Hey guys, HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! Hope you guys took time today to tell your loved ones how much you love them and had a lot of fun today. After a lot of thought about this chapter, here it is. So I'm going to do reviews, and leave it there. (PS I don't know alot about claustrophobia and panic attacks, so I'm going off like google and stuff, sorry if it's not that accurate...)

BMSH: Sorry I didn't have the next chapter ready, but here it is!

Joesgirlfriendandpercyssister: I hope they survive, that would suck if they didn't... and I don't know. Maybe they'll grow gills and become fish ;)

ErinJordan: Sorry for the wait, here you go!

Candylou: Thanks, that's really helpful. Thank you and all you guys for reviewing!

Enjoy!


Joe squeezed his eyes shut and prayed it was a dream. The tighter he squeezed, the less of him was actually there, right? The rocking of the boat didn't help, the sloshing of water already covering the floor of the closet, soaking right through his thin black t-shirt and denim jeans. He knew he needed to stand up, get off the floor and get out of the closet, but it was hard.

It was hard to move when duct tape is holding your limbs together so tight that it's going to leave a mark. It's hard to move when it's pitch black and you wouldn't be able to see your hands in front of your face, even though they were tied behind your back. It was hard to move when the walls were getting closer and closer together, threatening to fall down and crush you while you lay there thinking about all the bad things that could happen. Joe couldn't stop thinking about it.

He opened his eyes, hoping that some light would creep through, or something, so he wouldn't see all this black, but luck was not on his side. He kept his eyes open, even though it didn't make a difference in the dark, but in the hope that someone would find them and open the door for him.

He needed to get up, feel around. He needed to know how much space he had to work with. Trying to ignore the millions of butterflies in his stomach, he felt around with his hands behind him. The water was now about two inches above the floor, and he was starting to shiver from the freezing water. The only way he'd be able to do anything was if he got his hands from out behind his back.

Using a trick Frank had showed him a long time ago, he brought his knees and feet as close to his chest as he could, and tried to slip his arms out from behind his back. Normally, the trick worked pretty smoothly, being able to have his hands in front of him with no problem. But, since he had the pleasure of one of the guards dislocating his shoulder, it was very painful.

Joe bit his lip, tasting the blood that had started to finally harden again as he pushed his shoulder as far as it could physically go, before dropping it, crying out in pain. He was back to where he started, helpless.

Frank heard Joe shifting around in the closet over the roar of the water coming in, and he was very concerned. He pulled and tugged his arms as much as they could from the wall, but it was barely working. He stopped when he heard Joe cry out from the closet, losing all concern for himself.

"Joe, buddy, I'm going to get you out of there." He called, hoping Joe could hear him. He paused, and adding an afterthought. "Do your breathing!" He shouted, referencing the technique a therapist had recommended he do when he had an attack.

Joe could barely hear Frank from outside the closet from the pounding in his head. Half of it was from the pain in his shoulder, a throbbing, occasional sharp stab of pain. The other half was the frantic beating of his heart, getting louder each time he took a breath.

Feeling around with his hands behind his back, he realized how small the closet actually was. When he stretched his legs out and his back against the wall, the door was less than an inch from his foot. And whenever he shifted to his right or left, that other side of the wall was no more than a foot away. It was a tiny closet.

Joe felt his chest tighten. It was happening again. He was having an attack, in a closet, where the walls were falling, falling down around him. If the walls didn't get him first, the water was rising faster now, covering his legs completely as he sat on the floor.

Joe tried to get in more air, gulping in deep lungfuls of the air, trying to breathe. He thought he heard Frank say something about breathing technique, but he was too busy right now trying not to let the walls shrink down and crush him.

He needed to get out of there, but those thoughts were slowing being pushed into the back of his mind, as his subconscious started to take over, and he lost those feelings, being overwhelmed by his fear of being trapped.

His own voice in the back of his mind yelled at him to fight it, stay awake and stay conscious, but between the cold water, the walls falling around him and the darkness clouding his mind, it was a battle he was losing fast. Sooner than later, Joe Hardy would be lost.