Joost stifled a laugh at the sight of the grumbling troll stood in Elke's doorway. With her hair messy and her lips in a prominent frown, Elke said nothing as she let Joost into her apartment.

'I'm assuming you're not going into work today?'

'Not a chance.'

Elke trudged after Joost once she closed the door behind him. While he was dressed in his puffer jacket and wide-legged jeans, Elke still wore her purple pajama pants and an old t-shirt. Overcoming his initial reaction to her appearance, the bags under Elke's eyes and her pale complexion worried Joost.

As he went to grab himself a mug from the cupboard, Joost watched as Elke collapsed on a kitchen stool. He felt the sound of the metal scrape against the floor and the sigh from it's mover in his core. While the kettle boiled, Joost turned to lean his hands on the counter and address the woman who sagged in her seat.

'Are you still not sleeping?'

'No...' Elke said in a groan. 'Last night was the worst it's been. I left a message on my work's phone at 4am saying I wasn't going to be in.'

'You should see a doctor, El. This has been going on for too long.'

'No, no, I'm not doing that. All they'll do is say I'm working too hard or that I need to meditate. It'll pass. This is just a phase, I'm sure of it.'

The truth was that it was phase that Elke had complete control over. She had done nothing about the backpack in her car and she was suffering greatly from it. It tortured her, knowing that someone other than Roan could be looking for it.

Her ex-boyfriend hadn't shown his face again. Both Elke and Joost were convinced that this was from his and Daan's threatening. Elke was relieved but it hadn't solved her personal problem. She didn't want to make it known to Roan that she had found the backpack and she couldn't bring herself to call the police. What was stopping her, she couldn't quite tell, but it's existence was tearing apart her sanity.

While Joost was unaware of what really troubled her, he was worried for Elke. The lack of sleep was getting to her, he could see that. They had been venturing to each other's apartments in the mornings to have coffee or tea together and every time, Elke was exhausted. 

He wanted to suggest something bold. Maybe if they slept in the same bed for one night, they could see if Elke faired. Joost was yet to build the courage to ask this and from his understanding, her struggle to sleep stemmed from the worry that Roan would turn up at her door again. If Joost was there, directly next to her, with his arms around her and safe against him, Elke would have no reason to worry. 

Elke watched Joost make his coffee and look over his shoulder with raised eyebrows. His motion made her shake her head, already knowing that he was asking if she wanted one. A lot of their conversations were unspoken, just like what their relationship status.

'I'll make you dinner tonight,' Joost stated, stepping to be beside Elke's stool with his coffee in hand. Putting the mug down, he rubbed circles on her hunched back.

'That would be nice... can you make pasta?'

'I can try.'

The thought made Elke drag her upperhalf away from the counter and wrap her around his middle. She hummed while laying the side of her face against his abdomen. When she felt Joost's arms wrap around her shoulders, Elke thought about falling asleep then and there. He was so warm and the money fell to the back of her mind. 

Since their day in Leeuwarden, the neighbours had become incredibly close. The kiss at the canal had made the two realise how much they wanted to see each other. It was soft, slow and left Joost chasing Elke as she pulled away. He looked down at her, his eyes shifting between hers in admiration, wondering how someone like him had landed such a beautiful woman.

The only time their hands parted was when Elke got behind the wheel and drove them back home. They finished the day outside their apartments with Elke standing on her toes to kiss Joost's cheek. It made him grin and lean forward to kiss her forehead. 

Since then, Joost and Elke saw each other every day and weren't concerned with what their label was.

'Go back to bed and try to get at least a few hours,' Joost said, gently pushing Elke's shoulder to pull her out of his hoodie. 'You're dozing already.'

'Only because you're so warm,' she mumbled and Joost cooed at her drooping eyelids and her wrinkled nose.

'Don't do that to me, schatje. Stuntje needs me in today...'

'I'm not stopping you?'

The innocent pout on Elke's face drove Joost crazy. Leaning down, he cupped her small face with both hands and planted his lips on hers. The soft kiss put Elke in another spell of fatigue and she tilted her head to deepen it lazily. 

Joost was convinced he could kiss Elke all day, her cheeks in his palms and her lips brushing between his own. She had brushed her teeth and Joost had finished his coffee, the mixture of tastes not bothering them in the slightest. Joost's thumbs stroked Elke's cheeks and her hand stretched out to grab at his hoodie.

If Joost didn't leave now, Stuntje would be calling wondering where he was. In an attempt to pull away, Joost said,

'I'll see you tonight,' but Elke captured his lips again.

With a sleepy goodbye, Elke saw Joost off as he left her apartment. She got back into bed and welcomed the sleep Joost had prepared for her. She wouldn't be asleep for long, but Joost's effect did wonders for now.

---

Looking over his shoulder, Roan could have sworn that the same orange-haired man had walked by several times. When he walked past again, he had brown hair, then he was a woman, an old man, and then he was a single mother and with a child. To Roan, every face was suspicious and familiar, riddling him with anxiety.

His WRX was parked further down the alleyway where Roan desperately wanted to be. The two men that stood with the short, stumpy Russian spoke lowly. Nathan's instructions were clear; drive the duo that never left his sides to the location and wait for them to finish. 

It was an important deal that Nathan needed done and he was counting on Roan to get them to and from the alleyway in the heart of Amsterdam. The unspoken promise for another bag of drugs sat in the back of Roan's mind. He was dying for another dose but he was too afraid to ask for it in advance.

The drive was painful. Roan struggled to keep his hands on the wheel and shift the gears without stalling. Neither of Nathan's unfriendly accomplices spoke. Roan didn't know whether this was a good or a bad thing.

He perked up when he saw the two turn away from the Russian. His jittering hands stayed in his jacket's pockets as he waited for them to reach him. When they did, Roan turned to walk alongside them all while hearing slurred Russian saying,

'Pleasure doing business with you!'

Roan looked over his shoulder to see the man lean back against the bricked wall. His white tanktop bulged with his belly and he brought out a lighter and a packet of cigarettes. 

Roan was confused, wondering why the man would stick around after the deal had been done. Most would scurry away, not wanting to be caught by the police that just so happened to patrol by; especially when they had concealed weapons on them or pockets full of cocaine, forged documents or other evidence of illegal dealings.

Pushing away his confusion, Roan turned back to see that Nathan's men had gotten ahead of him. He jogged to catch up and couldn't take the torture any longer.

'Hey, man,' he called to one with a buzzcut. 'Do you have anything for me?'

'Yeah, I do.'

Whipping around, the man plunged three bullets into Roan's stomach at point blank range. The silencer dulled the shots and the noise made it no further than between them and the second accomplice. 

Blood rushed to Roan's crumpled t-shirt beneath his coat and his jittering paused for the first time in weeks. The choke from the man's throat was louder than the bullets' release and with wide eyes, Roan collapsed to the floor.  

Strained heaves filled the midday air of the alleyway. Roan's hand went to his middle and felt the damp fabric around his wounds. The shooting pain was beginning to sink in, distracting him from the second man who crouched beside him. His pockets were raided, his keys, phone and wallet now in the man's hands.

The buzzcut joined the man who straightened up, the both of them glancing to the Russian. The lit cigarette hung limply from his lips and he cried an exasperated 'Blyat!' at the sight. Ignoring the drunk, the two men watched as Roan struggled to breathe.

'Acid says "thank you",' one said down to him. 'But he doesn't give third chances. He barely ever gives two, so count yourself lucky.'

The jangle of his keys told Roan that he had been set up. He wanted to cry, scream and gather himself to his feet. But all he could do was strengthen his neck to see the two men get in his car, rev his engine and drive away at a slow speed. His head smacked against the tar as he lost feeling in his neck and the scuff of shoes accompanied his pathetic whimpers.

'That looks really bad, man,' the Russian appeared over him, his cigarette barely dragged and his squat unpleasant. Roan didn't understand the man and prayed, after all he had done, after all the neglect he had put Elke through, that someone would save him.

As Roan drifted in and out of unconsciousness, a new engine rumbled through the alleyway. The Russian looked up and let out another curse at the sight of a different car. He tried to straighten up but lost his balance, stumbling towards the wall in a drunken dance.

Screeching to a stop, all four doors were thrown open before the headlights dimmed. Joost, Stuntje, Apson and Tantu stepped out. The driver usually opted to stay in his car, but at the sight of the body on the floor, Joost joined the three as they bolted to the scene.

A string of Russian curses left the drunk's mouth. He turned to run, but Stuntje pushed him against the wall, causing him to fall back and flop to the ground. He let out a cry of pain and lost his cigarette to a nearby puddle. At the sight of the pocketknife held at his nose, the Russian recoiled and held his dirty hands up in defeat.

'Shit,' Tantu cursed, crouching down beside the familiar face. Apson and Joost joined him, their eyes wide and panicked at the sight of blood.

'Roan, hey, Roan, stay awake,' Joost rushed and ripped his jacket off to press against the wounds. He didn't like the man but seeing him pale, eyes rolling back and bleeding, Joost saw Roan as just another pawn in Nathan's game.

The ring of a phone made heads turn to Apson who rushed to silence it. He looked at the screen, say it was Alanis, then stepped away to answer it. If it had been anyone else, Apson would have ignored it in light of the situation.

'What happened?' Tantu tried to ask Roan but he got no answer. He looked to Joost whose jacket that was as useless as an umbrella in a hurricane. They exchanged a tight look, having been in the situation before, and did what they could in the moment.

Tantu checked Roan's pockets and turned up with nothing. Joost watched Roan's eyes still in a dulled agony. The rise and fall of his chest slowed and when Tantu mumbled 'nothing', Roan's heart stopped.

Turning away with a grimace, Joost called out to Stuntje.

'Anything?'

'Nothing but slurred Russian!' he called back, crouching in front of the drunk with his knife still between them. 'He's got what Enzo said he would but it looks like Acid got here first.'

Joost rejoined Tantu at staring at the corpse. He was getting sick of this, chasing after sullied deals and being lumbered with the aftermath. He hadn't wanted Roan to die but he knew that it was only a matter of time before Nathan tied up the loose end. Even though it was safer for Joost, his friends and Elke now that he was gone, Roan didn't deserve to die.

With a sigh, Joost pushed up out of his crouch. He had hoped that he would have gotten some more information out of Roan before he passed. His last words could have been the answer to their dying question; why was Nathan back in The Netherlands and why was he infiltrating their deals with inexperienced criminals?

'Can I leave this with you, Teun?' Joost asked, gesturing to the bloodied situation. The man peered up and nodded. Joost went to turn to the Russian man and Stuntje but paused when Apson stepped in front of him.

'Roan's phone just pinged.'

His eyebrows drew together in confusion.

'The dead man's phone?' Joost made sure and looked down to the body that Tantu was gathering into his arms. 'Where?'

'Heading through Jordaan.'

'We'll follow.'

'How do you know what we're looking for?'

Joost gave Apson a look and his friend understood that they would be looking for a black WRX.