Words words words

On with the story.

Chapter 4

(Frank's POV)

It's a library. What could possibly go wrong?

What I had been thinking?

Well, I thought we could be normal people for a while, I suppose.

I sighed as I ground my knuckles into my temples.

I had to think of a plan.

The winner of any situation is one who can stay calm and think things through before doing anything. Bonus points for having a backup plan for anything.

First, I had to get Joe.

He might have some idea of why those guys were there.

I sighed again, wishing I hadn't left my phone in my bag. I would have been able to call my dad, or even better, the police, what I would tell them, I'm not so sure since evidence of anything criminal at this point was lacking.

I thought about going to get it, but I didn't want to leave Joe in there with those men for too long. Who knows what could be happening.

I tried to put my worries at the back of my mind. Joe was brave, sometimes braver than me at times. Us being us, we've been through quite a lot of stuff already, but so far, we've managed to escape death. Something I'd like to keep that way for as long as I could.

"Oh, Frank." Someone whispered in my ear. "The two men have left the staff room."

I turned to Mrs. Thatcher. "Did they see you?"

"No worries, dear." She smiled and patted my arm. "This is my home, practically."

I nodded. "Did you see where they were going?"

"Here, actually."

I blinked. "Wait, here?! The archives?!"

"Yes." She said still smiling.

Old people, they were great to talk to… so sweet…but so …old…

"Then we need to get out of here before they see us!"

She patted my arm again. "Take a, what was that you young people say? Ah, a chill pill was it? Yes. Take one of those pill things, Frank dear. We can go out the back way."

Did she just tell me to take a chill pill? Do people even say that anymore? And wait. The back way?

"There's a back way?"

I kept from rolling my eyes. Joe would say I sound like one of those creepy app things that repeat words in those high squeaky voices.

"Of course!" Mrs. Thatcher took my hand and pulled me farther into the growing piles of dusty books. "What good would it do to have a room and only one way in, silly?"

I smiled weakly in an attempt to understand her. I don't, but it's fine. Sometimes you don't have to understand someone to respect them.

"Joe?" I whispered staring at the dark room in front of me after Mrs. Thatcher all but pushed me in the staff room, assuring it was fine and since she was here she allowed it. Not exactly what I was concerned about, but at least she was trustworthy. Somehow.

She stayed outside, saying she would keep a lookout and I made sure she promised to stay out of sight and be safe.

"Joe!" I hissed, anxious.

I hoped he was okay. I don't know what they would do with kids like us, but we have met people who didn't care if we were.

I moved my fingers along the walls till I found the light switch.

"Joe!" I stared in dismay at my little brother propped up against the wall, tied to pipe with a plasticuff.

I hurried over, and held his head carefully in one hand while tapping his cheek gently to wake him up.

I didn't see any blood, that was a good thing. But I did see the signs of a bruise forming along his jawbone.

"Dude, get that cronut away, I'm not in the mood for crabapple."

I stifled a laugh, forgetting the situation for a moment. "What?"

Joe opened an eye slowly and blinked blearily at me. "You heard me. I don't want no pineapple."

"You said crabapple." They gave him something. They must have given him something.

"Same thing." Yup. Definitely.

I shook my head. Trust Joe to get in the weirdest kind of scenarios. I thought as I tugged absently at the plasticuffs on his wrist planning out the next move.

Then Joe screamed in pain.

"What?!" I cupped my hand over his mouth, concerned again. "Did I hurt you?"

"Not you." Joe sounded more sober now through gritted teeth. "It was the elephant in the room."

Forget what I said about being sober. I removed my hand.

"What elephant? That's not how you use that phrase. But those guys you mean?" I looked at his wrists, careful not to touch anything, they seemed fine though. Where in the world did they get those plasticuffs from? That was new. Most of the time it was duct tape or rope.

"My shoulder, Frank." Joe growled. "He dislocated my freaking shoulder, Frank! How could he do that?! What a…a…jellyfish!"

"A …jellyfish?"

"You become one of those creepy repeating apps now?"

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up. Do you have still have that pocket knife?"

"In my shoe."

I took his knife out of his shoe and got to work on the cuffs. Why he decided to keep it in there, I don't know. But it comes in useful whenever we can remember it's there.

"They give you something?" I asked as I shrugged off my hoodie.

"Uh… I guess?" My brother blinked a couple of times. "The world isn't always this neon right?"

I exhaled and started folding a makeshift sling for him. "Do you know what they gave you? Like what kind of drug? Or poison? I need to figure out if you'll die or not." I didn't think it was deadly, but he was just so out of it.

"Um…"

"Did it knock you out?"

"No." Another growl. "They did fine on their own."

"Did it make you feel sick?"

"No. Just kinda floaty and um…less ouching."

Some sort of painkiller, huh?

Joe took my jacket and started rolling it gingerly over his right arm, grimacing and frowning at the same time, almost as if he couldn't decide whether it hurt, but he knew it did at the same time.

"Did they talk to you at all?" I asked, helping him tie it securely to his chest.

"A little." He gave a little strangled laugh. "Then they went all oranges on me."

What is with all the fruits? "Bananas." I corrected.

"No thanks. Not hungry." Then he paused. "Actually-"

"No." I said and pushed him out the door.

Disclaimer: I don't own the HB

Haha... I haven't written this in such a long time. I kinda forgot what I was doing.

Sorry about that. But there's this huge writer's block here.

I have the ending, but getting there is the problem.

Comments help! (Haha, kidding. A little)