This chapter took WAY too long to be written. Writer's block is a horrible thing. :/

Chapter 13 – Desperation

Patrick suddenly woke up with a start, feeling a sense of danger.

The feeling was swirling around his stomach horribly, making the starfish feel physically sick. While most people would have put the feeling down as mere anxiety (and of course, he had a genuine reason to be worried that day), Patrick knew that the ill feeling was some kind of warning – he didn't exactly know what warning, but he prayed that it wasn't related to his two friends.

Speaking of SpongeBob and Sandy... How did the mission turn out? Did they succeed? Was Plankton stopped? Did they both manage to get back home safely? Thinking of those questions only made Patrick feel worse, but he couldn't help it. There was something in the back of his mind that was essentially saying something terrible happened to them both last night. Wanting to forget the worst, Patrick got out of bed, got changed and made his breakfast.

As the starfish sat on his couch and watched the morning news (it was a slow news day), he couldn't bear to eat. He felt too sick to even try. Patrick knew that something must be severely wrong with him if he couldn't even eat something; yet he knew it wasn't because he was genuinely ill. It was fear – fear for the safety of his friends.

Unable to consume anything, Patrick conceded defeat and left his breakfast untouched – he had to see SpongeBob and Sandy right now; just so he could put his mind at rest. Clutching his whirling stomach as he stood up from his couch, Patrick left his rock and headed towards SpongeBob's pineapple, breathing deeply and shivering in the warm summer sea as he stumbled past Squidward's Easter Island head. He felt like he wanted to vomit – bile was rising in the starfish's throat...

...But fortunately, he didn't. Patrick managed to make it to the front door of SpongeBob's house without any consequences; yet it felt like an hour-long journey to him, instead of a few seconds of walking.

Even though Patrick was right in front of SpongeBob's door, he couldn't bring himself to knock it – he was frozen in place for no clear reason. Was it because he was scared? Most likely. But it was no time to back away from the truth now. Using all that he had of his strength, and trying his best to ignore the pains in his stomach, Patrick willed his right arm up and did his best to knock on the door loudly – so that at least SpongeBob could hear him.

But there was no response. No-one opened the door from the other side.

The alarm bells that had been waiting to go off since Patrick woke up finally sprung to life in his mind. Surely SpongeBob would open the door to him under any circumstance, even if he had to get out of bed? He was his friend! In desperate fear, Patrick knocked on the door again, and called out SpongeBob's name.

Still no response.

Patrick started to panic. Didn't SpongeBob come home last night? Oh Neptune, did something horrible happen to him and Sandy during the mission? Patrick tried the door one more time, his knocking turning into banging. Never mind that Squidward could probably hear him; this was now a matter of life and death.

Still no response.

After he realised that the door would not open, Patrick decided to run to Sandy's treedome – if she wasn't home, then the two of them would certainly be in danger right now. If she was home, then where was SpongeBob? I might be overreacting, Patrick thought. Maybe SpongeBob's really tired and he didn't hear me at the door? Patrick hoped, almost begged that his thoughts were true; and that he was just worrying over nothing.

Patrick banged on Sandy's door – he didn't mean to do that, but this situation was critical.

No response.

Suddenly, another feeling appeared inside Patrick – a gut feeling; and a strange gut feeling at that. It felt like it was trying to tell him something... Something like a direction...?

...His gut feeling was telling him to go to the Chum Bucket.

Patrick truly didn't know why, but he had a strong assumption that SpongeBob and Sandy were trapped in the Chum Bucket. Of course, the starfish was still too frightened to go back to the place where he almost died – but what else could he do right now; and who else would help him? If he went to Squidward for help, he certainly wouldn't care. The police were also out of the question; they wouldn't believe someone like him. Maybe Mr. Krabs would help? But that incident in the Krusty Krab...

It was a difficult decision, but Patrick chose the one that was the most dangerous – he would have to go to the Chum Bucket alone.

It was crazy; he knew it. He would be at risk of getting killed again. But this was about the possible fate of his friends now. And if he was wrong? Well...

As Patrick slowly headed towards the Chum Bucket, he could feel the gut feeling inside him grow stronger. He hoped it was correct about the assumption. He didn't want to be under the clutches of Plankton again, of course – possibly to die for real.

He looked up randomly towards the sky – grey clouds were gathering in a moody cluster. The change in weather was probably inevitable after all the sunshine in the past few days, but Patrick thought that it was another warning of danger...

...Where am I...?

Actually, this feels like deja vu... I feel like I'm back in the hospital with that huge headache. Yet this time, I know what happened to me previously...

Plankton knocked me and Sandy out with sleeping gas.

SpongeBob slowly woke up from what felt like the deepest sleep he had ever had – but in retrospect, he might as well have carried on sleeping. The prison he had found himself in was pitch-black, with not a window or a lamp to brighten the room up. If he could even see anything about his prison, SpongeBob would have thought it was in a dismal state.

Even though there was no light at all, the sponge could still tell that Sandy was in the same cell as he was – he could hear her breathing deeply. Crawling over to where he could hear her, SpongeBob managed to find Sandy's body and nudged her gently.

"Sandy! Sandy!" SpongeBob whispered.

The squirrel didn't budge.

SpongeBob shook her a little harder. "Sandy!" SpongeBob repeated. "Wake up, Sandy!"

"Hmm?" Sandy yawned a little.

"Sandy, wake up!" SpongeBob continued to repeat. "I know it's really hard to see, but I'm here! I think we've been locked up somewhere by Plankton."

Sandy groggily woke up, her memory trying to recall what had happened to her and SpongeBob previously. Absently, she asked him, "Ugh... what happened to us...?"

"Plankton knocked us out with sleeping gas," SpongeBob told her straight.

"Oh yeah..." Sandy recalled. She took an arm into her airsuit and rubbed her forehead with her hand, sighing. "I wish I could see where we are. Do I still have my flashlight?"

SpongeBob remembered the flashlight. It would be extremely useful if they had it right now, but Sandy most likely dropped it when she was knocked out by the sleeping gas. He couldn't remember that little detail – it was something too trivial. That, and it was much too dark in the cell to search for it properly, even if the flashlight did happen to be thrown in with them.

Sandy seemed to have realised the dilemma SpongeBob had noted – she sighed again. SpongeBob scooted a little closer towards her.

"It's clear that we're stuck in here for the time being," Sandy stated the obvious. "We don't know how long we've been here. It might be morning, afternoon or night. We can't tell because there's no window here."

SpongeBob muttered a "Yeah," to acknowledge what Sandy was saying.

"There's not much we can do now, but sit here..." the squirrel hunched her body closer. SpongeBob shuffled closer towards her and put an arm around her. He hated seeing Sandy like this - she was usually so much stronger.

Time passed, with not a word spoken between the two of them. The situation was too sombre for mere small talk. For all SpongeBob and Sandy knew, it could have only been five minutes, or as long as five hours – time didn't matter when you're locked up in a blackened prison cell. It took Sandy a simple question to finally break the long, painful silence:

"Do you remember when you accused me of knowing something about Plankton at your house?"

SpongeBob, who had been out of focus for a long time, snapped back to reality when he heard Sandy's voice. "Huh? Oh, yeah," he said, even though he didn't actually listen to her question properly.

"Well... there's a secret I've been keeping from you. From Patrick. From everyone in this town."

SpongeBob sat up, extremely curious.

"I'll think y'all most likely be horrified when I tell you this, though..." Sandy faltered. SpongeBob told her to go on – he was her best friend. Secrets shouldn't be kept hidden from best friends.

Sandy hesitated for a brief moment, then took a deep breath, still unsure whether to reveal her secret. SpongeBob remained patient – the squirrel was just as frightened as him right now. It wouldn't be right to pressure her to spill it out.

"I..." Sandy began, pausing again before regaining a bit of confidence. "I... knew what chum was made out of all along."

SpongeBob was obviously shocked by the revelation. He could only manage a "What?!" It couldn't be true – Sandy knew what chum was made out of all this time; yet she didn't tell anyone in Bikini Bottom?

"I knew what chum was made out of long before I came to Bikini Bottom," Sandy explained, her voice breaking. "A lot of people on land happen to know that chum is dead fish. But the sea is often isolated from the land, and I was pretty sure little to no sea-critter would know what often happens to them on land."

SpongeBob recalled the tales Mr. Krabs had told him about what happened to sea-creatures on the land – particularly, the part about being vacuum-packed into a tuna can. He then remembered the time when he thought he was going to die via "hooking", then later found out it was just a cruel prank by Krabs himself; with Squidward as an accomplice. Come to think of it, SpongeBob had had many close calls with death in the past.

"When I first saw the name of Plankton's restaurant," Sandy continued, "I assumed that he didn't know what the word 'chum' meant on the surface world. So I pushed that thought deep in the back of my mind. But it seemed that I was wrong. Horribly wrong. When we were all gathered in your kitchen, that thought completely came back out of the blue. That's why I acted that way – y'know, all defensive, crying..."

SpongeBob understood Sandy perfectly. It truly must have been hard for her to realise that her assumption had been right all along - especially since she never told anyone under the ocean what chum actually was before all this happened. The sad truth was, SpongeBob most likely wouldn't have believed Sandy if she told him the truth long before all of this. Chum is made out of fish? What a load of barnacles! But it was the cold, harsh reality – and Sandy felt completely awful for keeping the secret bottled away for so long.

The squirrel went silent again for a moment, thinking of something else to say.

"I'm so sorry the mission went all haywire..." she apologized.

"You don't have to apologize, Sandy," SpongeBob reassured her. "It's Plankton who should apologize for everything he's done." SpongeBob was never one for bearing grudges and swearing revenge on others, but Plankton was someone who had crossed the line in his book.

"No... it is my fault, SpongeBob," Sandy reflected back. "I was the one who planned the mission in the first place. And it's all gone wrong..." she started to sob. "And now we're locked up in here!" SpongeBob hugged his friend tightly – this wasn't like Sandy at all. Where was the Sandy that kicked butt at karate? The Sandy that could invent some kind of contraption to help them get out of the cell? This Sandy was merely a tearful shell – a shell that had been sealed away for a long time, until now.

As the duo sat there on the floor of the prison cell, SpongeBob then realised something – someone was bound to know sooner or later that they had disappeared at complete random. Maybe someone would start a search for them – most likely someone like Mr. Krabs, or maybe even Patrick - but he then remembered the fates of the previous missing fish. They had all "disappeared" without a trace via Plankton.

And it seemed likely that he and Sandy would be next.

He didn't know how long the walk took him – time meant nothing when your friends are possibly in danger - but Patrick was finally in front of the Chum Bucket's doors nonetheless.

It was now well into the morning. The sky had been completely covered by clouds threatening to rain - the starfish was now truly certain that the change of weather was another severe warning, alongside his aching stomach.

Patrick still felt ill, but he knew he couldn't back away now – especially since he still had the assumption that his friends were trapped under the Chum Bucket like him before. That, or his gut feeling had been lying to him the whole time. Patrick hoped that the latter wasn't true - the feeling was too strong, too convincing to be one huge lie.

Still afraid of entering the place where he almost died, Patrick took all what was left of his courage and entered through the doors of the Chum Bucket, stepping into the same darkness that SpongeBob and Sandy went through last night...

Oh my God, I've finally finished this chapter! Now I'm just gonna pass out. XD