Author's note: Hi everyone! Since I don't have anything to say: Please enjoy!

Chapter 23

"This is so hot! I feel like I can't breathe! Besides, you are literally squeezing me to death." Joe's voice was barely a whisper, but still, the only answer he got from his brother was "Shut up! We need to keep quiet!"

If Joe hadn't been a master on reading people's lips, he wouldn't have a clue what Frank was saying. His whisper was too soft to be heard at all. Despise rolling his eyes dramatically, Joe knew his brother was right. They really needed to keep quiet. Sitting in a way too small box in the trunk of a truck on their way to some crazy, addicts' customers wasn't ecaxtely the definition of luck. Especially not when the one driving was someone that wanted you dead.

However, Joe wasn't joking when he said it was hot. When they had heard people coming towards the cave, they had no potions but hide in one of the boxes. Having such a hurry, they had both jumped in the same box. It was big enough, yes, but not at all meant for living in. The air was slowly losing oxygen, and every muscle was tired of not being able to move as much as a centimetre. But what choice did they have? None.

Shortly after the brothers were placed in the box, Mr. Chuck and his men had arrived. They had heard Mr. Chuck's explanation about why he wanted revenge on them. His words didn't ecaxtely made them want him to find them. Therefore, they had remained as still as possible when they had been lifted inside the trunk.

Now, they felt they had been driving for eternities. According to the clock, it was more like 30 minutes, though. Still, it didn't really make things any better.

"When do you think this torture will end?" Joe asked as silent as possible. Noting the frustrated look on Frank's face, he wondered if it was better to just keep quiet. Before he came to any clear conclusion, though, the truck stopped. Moments later the sound of voices was much clearer. Someone was inside the trunk.

"Wow! This box is really heavy!" the surprised voice floated inside the box in the same moment as the boys felt themselves lifted from the ground.

'It is strange the man doesn't check it out' Frank thought relieved. What he also understood, was that the person, whoever it was, had to be really, really strong. To lift both himself and Joe at the same time wasn't ecaxtely an easy task.

After some meters, Frank felt rather nauseous. This was worse than a ship and a storm to be sure! Joe, his face greenish, seemed to have it the same way. But after all, it was still better than getting killed.

Riing, riing, riing. A doorbell.

"We have it, sir." The voice came from a place behind Frank and Joe. Judging by the slightly British accent, it was Mr. Chuck speaking. Someone, probably the customer, grunted something in reply. It was impossible to hear what he tried to say, but it didn't seem like anyone cared about that matter.

After a few more bumps and a final, loudly bang, the box was placed inside the customers door. If he had some oxygen left, Joe would have let out a sight of a relief. Since he hadn't, he settled with a huge grin.

The smile quickly disappeared, though. The door closed, and everything went silent. Not a bad thing in itself, but when the sound of someone trying to open the box followed, Joe was nothing but happy. He knew a scuffle was unavoidable. But would they manage? There was a huge chance the person had a gun. If he hadn't, he had the advantage of being ready while he and Frank needed to get up before they could do anything. And if both the gun-scenario and get-up-thing proved to be no problem, the fight itself most certainly would. He didn't care to admit it, but he did feel a little lightheaded now and then. And his shoulder? Well, it was okay, but yes, it burned. A lot. Nothing he couldn't handle, but still…

Holding his breath, Joe listened as the fingers worked with the lid. Suddenly, an icy chill ran down his spine. He couldn't help but feeling trapped in a coffin. Buried, dead. In the least, he felt really doomed…

F&J F&J F&J F&J F&J

"Okay Fenton, I know you don't know what to do. But listen: We need to finish this Logan. I have everything ready, all you need to do is show up. They will stroll straight in, deliver the evidences, and then go straight into our trap. It will all be over in 30 minutes. If we don't do it now, we won't get another chance, I am sure of it."

Fenton stared at the phone in his hand, his face pale. Slowly, he answered "Okay Sam, I suppose you are right. I just don't like giving up on finding my boys…"

"Fenton! You don't give up! You just take a 30 minutes break! They will understand. This man has been selling drugs for half a year, and wee need to get him locked up before he can do any more harm than he already has."

"Okay" Fenton's voice was tired "but I need to bring Vanessa and Callie as well. They will just wait in the car, of course. Point is, their cars has been stolen. They insist on helping with searching for Frank and Joe. Callie says something about needing to ask for forgiveness about thinking so little of him. Don't know what she talks about, but she seems to mean it seriously. Anyway: All I need to do is waiting with handcuffs, isn't it?"

"Ecaxtely" Sam answered "I have gone kind of undercover and asked for two boxes with drug. They will deliver it tonight to my apartment. When they get out, all you need to do is arrest them."

"Sounds okay to me" Fenton agreed. After saying goodbye, he hung up the phone. Begging for being able to speak to his sons once more before he died, he went to his car. Driving for Callie's house, he felt something warm and wet slid down his cheek. His boys couldn't be dead. They couldn't. His last image of Frank was as a criminal. The last thing he remembered of Joe was a pale, dying son. Thing couldn't end like that. They just couldn't.

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