With more confidence than he felt himself capable of, Sam ran down the street, across the park, and towards Christine's house. A stitch immediately dug into his side and the cold air had his lungs burning, but he didn't care, just pressed on, feeling the need to make sure Christine was either safe or gone. Because only then could he start thinking properly, decide what was to be done.

He reached Christine's door and rang the doorbell, fighting the need to bang his fist against the poor piece of wood. Please be home, please be home, please be home...

The door opened and the professor's moustached face glared at him. "What do you want?"

"Sorry," Sam panted. "Is Christine in?"

"It's a school day, young man. My daughter already spends enough time with you. I think it is about time you let her focus on her schoolwork."

"So she's in school?" Hope loosened the vice around Sam's heart.

"Yes, of course she is."

A long breath escaped Sam's lungs and his heart could finally beat properly again. At least until Tina appeared in the doorway. The worried look on her face put the giant frogs in his stomach back in motion.

"It's okay, Dad, I've got this," she said quietly.

The professor flinched and turned to his eldest daughter. He seemed to approve of whatever silent exchange went between them because he threw a 'good day' to Sam over his shoulder and retreated inside the house.

Tina watched him disappear and hugged her cardigan tighter around herself. "What happened, Sam?"

"Is Christine really in school?" he asked desperately.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I haven't heard from her in days. I know she was supposed to go to a sleepover, but she hasn't answered any of my text."

Sam banged his fist against the jamb. Tina jumped back.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to keep in another punch at an inanimate object, but the hurt inside him was morphing into anger just so it could become more manageable.

"You know something, don't you?"

"No, and that's the thing. She and Angie are both gone. I hoped you knew something."

She shook her head slowly, her hazel eyes growing wider with each shake.

He swore under his breath, making sure she wouldn't hear him because he didn't want to freak her out even more. He finally had his answer, and even if he'd expected it, he wasn't aware of how much he'd hoped until he lost it. This was it. The moment of truth. He had to do something.

"Stay inside," he said to Tina, his voice strong and confident. "If you need to go out, call one of us."

"I'm sure that's not really--"

"I think Christine and Angie were kidnapped. You need to stay safe. Okay?" He fixed her with the most serious gaze he was capable of and she finally nodded.

The moment he got her confirmation, he whipped around and headed back towards his house. His chest ached, his breathing was erratic, but his steps were firm. He had to focus, he had to come up with a solution.

How? You have no idea where she could be. Yes, true, but logically, if someone wanted something for him, they'd call. Why hadn't they called when it happened, then? That was a pretty good question and the one that scared the crap out of him. Why hadn't anyone called yet?

Like a given, his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He took it out, hoping against hope it was Christine. It wasn't. It was a private number. And that's when Sam knew he'd finally get his answers.

"Where is she?" he asked instead of a hello.

"Mighty impatient, aren't you?" a snide voice asked from the other end of the line.

"Cut the crap. I know why you're calling."

"The boss did say you were a smart kid. Fine, we have your girlfriend."

And there was his confirmation that it was Snitch Gravel at work. "Obviously. Now what do you want to give her back?"

The chuckle on the other end of the line made him want to teleport just so he could punch the guy in the face. "We want you to come and get her. Obviously."

Sam squeezed the phone in his hand so hard, he expected to feel it molding in his palm. He dropped on the curb, ignoring the thin sheet of snow seeping through the seat of his jeans. "How do I know she's still alive?"

He expected another smartass remark, but there was none. Instead, there was shuffling on the other end of the line, and after what felt like ages, someone actually spoke.

"Sam!"

His heart leaped and lodged itself in his throat. It was really her. Christine was still alive. And with the realization came the focus he'd been waiting for, as if the entire world had reduced to their conversation. Time was very limited and he had to ask the right questions.

"Christine, where are you?"

"Paris. They took me to France." Her voice was shaky and filled with tears. "Please do what they say."

Of course he would, he had no choice. And it annoyed him a little she didn't know that by now. "Listen to me. Don't be scared. I'm coming to get you."

"I am scared!" she shrieked, but then her tone lowered. "But I trust you."

"I'm not going to let them hurt you."

"Sweet, but such an empty promise." The snide voice was back together with Sam's desire to punch the guy. "So, now you know. One final piece of advice. Don't even think about bringing the dream team along. The boss wants you. Only you. We get a whiff of company and she's dead."

"Yeah? And how am I supposed to find you? Paris is huge!"

"You're smart. Be a tourist." And with those words, the line went dead.

Sam looked at his phone, fighting the need to fling it across the street. His hands were shaking. He'd never gone through anything like this alone, but now he had no choice. What the hell am I going to do? He wasn't the hero type. He was the sit down and read about it type. So sure, he might just figure out where Christine was, but what was he supposed to do about actually saving her? Because this wasn't a game that ended the moment he reached Christine. Unless end meant his death, then yeah, pretty much.

He got to his feet and started off towards the house. He had to book a ticket for the next flight to Paris. He had to pack something. He had to-- He had to stop feeling like he was about to throw up. But the more he thought about it, the queasier he became. Especially once he realized he couldn't tell anyone. Because there was no way in hell Jimmy and Kyle would let him go alone.

He had to run away from home.

Like in a trance, he moved through the front door, into the living room, then headed up the stairs to his room. He could hear sounds from the kitchen, but fortunately no one came out to greet him. If he was lucky enough, he'd pack his stuff and get out of the house in the next twenty minutes and thus avoid any interception. He could take care of the ticket and whatever else he needed on the way to the airport.

The moment he opened the door, he froze. Tom had taken their equipment backpack out and was busy making an inventory of their guns and other weaponry. Sam looked from the guns to his twin's deadly expression and the world seemed to lift the tiniest bit off his shoulder.

"Did you get called, too?"

Tom raised his gaze, and in the one second of surprise he saw there, Sam was sure he'd made a huge mistake. Tom narrowed his eyes and, before Sam could open his mouth to take back what he'd just said, rushed at him and pushed him against the closed door.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"Nothing. Was just wondering if you had news," Sam spluttered.

Tom propped his forearm over Sam's collarbone and pressed him harder against the door. "Bullshit, Sam."

God, that slightly unhinged twinkle in Tom's eyes was giving Sam the creeps. Why did he have to give up on the sunglasses? But Tom had a point. The likelihood of getting away with lying to his twin was zero and apparently dangerous.

"One of Snitch Gravel's goons called me," he muttered.

Tom let him go and took a step back, the crazy air around him vanishing as it morphed to complete focus.

"They took Christine to Paris and I have to go get her. Alone."

Tom nodded once and returned to the weaponry. Sam headed for the closet, pulled out his rucksack and started filling it with random clothes. When Tom passed him guns and smoke bombs, he took them and stuffed them in his luggage, no questions asked.

"Sam, we need to put these in the deposit boxes. How the hell do you think we'll pass airport security with them in your rucksack?"

Oh. Right. They had to pass airport security on their own this time seeing as the agency wasn't pulling their usual strings. Wait a minute. We...

"What we, Tom? I'm going alone!"

"Yes, you are," Tom said, his tone clam. "As soon as we land in Paris, you're on your own."

"Wha--?"

"Do you honestly believe I'm not coming along to search for Angie?"

"The guy didn't say anything about Angie."

Tom flinched and Sam bit his lip, realizing only too late how insensitive that piece of truth was.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm worried about Angie, too. But I can't risk Christine's life in any way."

"I know that. I don't want to risk Christine's safety either. But it would be plain stupid to take different planes. And I have absolutely no lead regarding Angie. She was with Christine the moment they disappeared so my best guess is that she's still at least in the same country as Christine."

Sam nodded. Tom had a point. And it must've been awful not knowing anything. At least Sam had a vague hint where Christine was and a possibility to find her. Tom had nothing but worry and a little bit of hope.

"Okay," was all he said, and it was settled.

They were both running away from home.

❄❄❄

And so it begins. Get ready for an adventure unlike any other... okay, now I'm being over dramatic... But anyway.

Yay for sorry moving it's butt after only 3 chapters. Of course I'm not done boring you but at least you can anticipate stuff happening.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Do you think Sam is breaking the rules by letting Tom tag along (Not that he could stop him).

Read, vote, and especially comment. I love talking to your guys!