So, yeah, it's been a bit longer than I was expecting to be able to update. All my homework sort of piled up during exam week last week so I had to get caught up before I could really work on a chapter. Hopefully you like this chapter, though. Lots of surprising things happening in this one. :) Also, for once, I'll have an AN at the end of this chapter so ttyl!

Chapter Seven

The Monday after, Diana glowered at her reflection, brushing her hair off her shoulder to reveal the mark once more.

Damn sadist, she thought vehemently, pointedly keeping her mind from drawing up memories of exactly how the mark had come to be.

She'd made a deal with her teacher after he'd spoken with the doctor. She was now exempt from the remainder of the trips and from the assignment, though now she had to do an alternative assignment of making a presentation on the last three chapters of their book, which they weren't going to have time to cover properly. She hated Drake Merwin.

Her eyes flickered from the mirror down to her cracked cell phone that was sitting by the sink. She sneered at it automatically. She hated Caine, too.

Both of them were psychotic, idiotic, narcissistic, uncaring jerks; self-absorbed beasts who would never be able to truly understand what it meant to care for another human being. And she was through with them both. Done. The FAYZ was over and she didn't need either of them anymore.

Not that she'd ever really needed Drake in the first place.

She scowled. She'd only had to deal with him because of Caine needing him for his stupid plans. She would have gladly walked away the day he started yelling all sorts of insults at her, only Caine holding him back keeping him from attacking her like a rabid animal. It was a bit different from the impression he'd made just the day prior, when he'd walked up looking nervous but gruff and tough at the same time, getting out the broken question of if she wanted help with her bags that her father had just dumped into the street.

She'd thought how lucky she was, already having captivated a quite attractive, clearly strong male in her grasp, and because of it she might have flirted a bit, pleased when he'd tried to hide the slight color that had tinted his face. She'd been really impressed when he'd picked up both of her suitcases without any trouble; she knew how heavy they were and it'd taken her dad some struggling just to lift one. She had thought, when he'd smirked slightly after placing them in her room, finally past his nervousness enough to talk with her normally, that he'd liked her too. At least maybe had some interest. The next day, when Caine had revealed that he was friends was Drake and he was meeting him for lunch, she'd been happy to take his offer to join them. But when she'd smile at him, she'd watched in confusion as his features had morphed into a frown. Never one to hold back her tongue, she'd made some comment—she couldn't really remember what she'd said—hoping to pull him out of his slump, maybe get another smirk for her trouble.

Only, she hadn't known that Drake didn't take lightly to someone mocking him. He'd blown up instantly, admittedly frightening her. She didn't really want to know what might have happened if Caine hadn't reacted as fast as he had, though now she figured he'd probably known that would happen. Had maybe even been counting on it.

She frowned at that thought, eyes moving back up to land on the bruise-like mark on her shoulder. Had Caine done that on purpose? He and Drake had known each other before she'd come into the picture; no doubt he'd had some idea of how Drake would react while in his presence. Had he planned it so that Diana wouldn't like Drake anymore? After all, any girl would steer clear of the angry boy who'd tried to kill them.

Whatever, she thought, ignoring it all as she moved her collar to hide the mark, grabbed her phone, and walked outside to drive to school. Caine certainly hadn't been there this time, and Drake had still blown up. Clearly Drake was just too sick to have any sort of relationship with another living thing.

"Diana," one of her friends—Leah—called as she stepped from her car in the school's parking lot, smiling slightly as Diana waved back before joining the group.

"Morning," she offered the three of them: Leah, Alexa, and Jen.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Jen spoke, getting right to the point. Diana frowned, leaning against Alexa's car and raising a brow.

"Tell you what, exactly?"

"That one of the psychos attacked you at the asylum," Jen told her, rolling her eyes. "I mean, that's something kind of worth mentioning."

Diana's brow furrowed. How did she know?

"And now I hear you're exempt from the whole assignment," Alexa added, pouting. "Which is totally unfair. This girl I'm talking to has amnesia and can't remember anything, so I have to repeat myself every five minutes."

"I knew there had to be some drawback to that hottie you picked," Leah stated, calmly. "I mean, no way someone with chains on their feet was a safe bet."

Diana rolled her eyes. "It was nothing really. Drake's just a sadistic, self-absorbed asshole," she summed up quite simply. Just then, the bell rang, making all four girls begin the trek to class.

"Still, I wish my girl would throw a yelling fit while I'm there. This is the world's stupidest assignment," Alexa grumbled, annoyed.

"Well, I have to make it up with a three-chapter presentation. Would you rather do that?" Diana replied, peeved. "Like it was my fault he can't control himself," she added in a mutter.

Alexa winced. "Okay, that sucks," she summed up, while the other two nodded.

"Just as long as I don't have to ever see him again," Diana spoke on the matter one final time, voice even.

The other three just shrugged, not really understanding her vehemence on the matter. They had seen that he hadn't actually hurt her; they just didn't understand why she was acting like she'd known him for all this time and he'd betrayed her or something. They'd been doing this assignment for, what? Eleven weeks? Twelve? How was that long enough to get this worked up over someone?

Instead, all three entered their classroom, taking their seats and talking about Leah's latest boyfriend, putting the entire incident behind them.

Or, Diana tried to.

-Break-

Drake wasn't brought to the activity room the following Friday. Neither was he brought to the basketball court. In fact, he hadn't left solitary since the previous Friday.

Not that it mattered to him. The look on Diana's face, so completely shattered…it still brought a grin to his face. He could feel the excitement flare up at the memory of the tears that had erupted from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks and washing her smooth skin in their salty distress.

He snickered to himself, rolling over and trying to get comfortable on the floor. He'd opted out of lying on the bed at the moment for whatever reason, instead staring at the ceiling with a peaceable look about him as he stretched out on the cool tiled floor. He was finding it pleasantly ironic that they'd started and ended their little…'tryst', or whatever it'd been, over the same thing.

No doubt he wouldn't be seeing Diana again. He was mildly disappointed he wouldn't be able to actually kill her, but he figured that he'd done enough damage that she might just be suicidal now. He grinned to himself once more; now wasn't that a pleasant thought? Maybe they'd even catch her before she finished it and sentence her here? He laughed out loud, though in his mind he knew he'd never be that lucky. For some reason, luck or karma or whatever had never really favored him.

A pathetic monster without a shred of self-control, she'd called him. He snorted. Who's pathetic now, Diana? He thought vindictively. He couldn't help but relish in the moment when she'd finally broke, remembering how her entire body language had screamed 'prey'. He could still see her fighting for oxygen, pressed as far back against the wall as possible. To get away from him! She'd been terrified of him! He grinned happily at the thought.

And then there was that moment. Just as the water had leaked over her eyes and begun its trail down her cheeks. Oh, how in that moment he'd wanted nothing more than to lean forward and lap up her salty pain. He licked his lips at the thought. He would bet it would taste delicious, surely almost as much as it was to actually kiss her.

Drake sat up suddenly, his entire mind screeching to a halt as he scowled.

Almost?!

No. No, surely it was better than kissing her. That's what he'd meant. Certainly something as stupid as swapping spit couldn't taste any better than the physical proof of Diana Ladris' pain and suffering. He'd have to be insane to think that—he paused those thoughts, mentally correcting them. He'd have to...to…he searched his mind for the word. What could possibly make him think that her pain could be almost as good as kissing her?

…the doctor seems to believe that you like me.

Drake's eyes widened. No, he denied vehemently. He didn't like Diana Ladris. He didn't like anybody.

…he started going over some comparison of you to normal people…Something about how normal people show their affection with kindness, while you show it through wanting to hurt that person the most. And then he mentioned how fixated you were on killing me as opposed to Sam or Caine, who actually did something to you, and somehow he made it all sound believable…

No, no, no, no, NO!

He roared angrily, clutching at his head in denial. He didn't like Diana Ladris! He didn't! The whole idea was stupid! She was a stupid, pathetic, sarcastic bitch who did nothing but mock him and hide behind people. He couldn't—wouldn't—ever like someone so weak!

In his mind, he could see every interaction between then, all the way back to their first meeting. He could remember the minute he'd first seen her, how he'd thought she was mildly pretty. How'd he'd thought she'd be so much prettier with tears down her face and blood covering her. And then she'd gone and opened that mouth, framed by those soft, full lips, and had insulted him. That was the first—and certainly not the last—time Caine had had to come between them. Only then, he hadn't had that freakish power. Then, he'd just been a normal boy, struggling to keep Drake's stronger frame from punching Diana in the throat. Let's see her mock him with a broken wind-pipe, he'd thought hatefully. From that day forward, he'd hated her. It'd only grown as they'd worked together, Caine constantly stopping him from harming her but also forcing him to stay close to her.

The FAYZ certainly hadn't made them buddy-buddy. And now…now.

He still hated her. He still enjoyed the sight of her pain. He didn't like her, dammit! What could possibly make him like her? What was any different now that hadn't been true then? If he'd had potential to like her, why was it coming up now and not back when he'd first met her? If she'd managed to so easily ensnare Caine in her hold then—and just about every other boy she attempted—why would it have taken her so long to lodge her wretched fingers into his mind?

He. Did. Not. Like. Her!

He roared again, standing and kicking at the bolted down chair, relishing in the painful throb that erupted up his leg sending every nerve on fire with the dull sting of pain. His fist slammed into the wall. As he stared at it, he noticed a single, minuscule drop of blood marring the perfect white of the walls. He paused, breathing heavily, angrily, as he raised his fist to his face to study the barely bleeding cut he'd made on his hand.

Without thinking, he began punching the wall again and again, mind ablaze with rage as his eyes took in more blood—his blood—marring the walls. He was yelling, almost screaming, though he didn't have a presence of mind to pay any attention to what he was saying.

Damn Diana. Damn Diana. Damn Diana! He roared in his mind, suddenly feeling restraining arms encircling him, keeping him from continuing his attack as a prick in his arm told him that he'd already been given a dosage of sedative.

Damn him, he was thinking, maybe talking out loud, he just didn't know anymore. All he knew was that he was suddenly oh-so exhausted. His eyelid fluttered as he fought sleep, mind not focusing on the doctor above him as he was placed on the bed. Neither was he thinking of the girl who'd started all this mess. Instead, he only saw one face. One, smirking, taunting, dark-haired-framed face looking down on him with a superior look.

"Drake," the vision spoke, mouth curving in distaste even as his eyes flashed with his holier-than-thou thoughts.

"Caine," Drake hissed hatefully, loathing swirling within him just before he slipped into unconsciousness.

-Break-

Dr. Raymond stared at the silent boy, pondering. Until today, he hadn't really reacted in any strange way since the whole Diana thing. But today, he'd completely lost it. He'd punched the wall hard enough to bust two of his knuckles and strain his wrist, which meant he was basically armless at the moment as he had to wear a sling to keep himself from jarring it and breaking the bone completely.

And then there was there at the end, just as the sedative had started to work and he'd been just about to slip under. He'd whispered a name: Caine. No doubt the same Caine from before, the one who'd gone to Coates Academy with both Drake and Diana. The one Drake hadn't liked. The one who was known, in addition to Drake himself, as one of the worst children who'd been in the FAYZ.

The doctor frowned, eyes narrowing. He was missing something, something important. It was clear that Drake had a problem with Caine, he'd sort of figured it, but he hadn't been expecting Diana's own breakdown the previous Friday. The fact that she, too, seemed to have much built-up hatred for this Caine confused him more than anything. Hadn't Drake said she'd been dating him?

"Are you going to tell me what triggered your episode?" he asked seriously, leaning forward just slightly and placing his connected hands in front of his mouth, his elbows on the table.

Drake didn't even react, mind elsewhere as his eyes focused on something only his mind could see. He wasn't tense in the least, though from the frown on his face he clearly wasn't thinking happy thoughts.

"Drake," the doctor spoke, drawing the boy's attention. The boy glared at the doctor, lip curling up defensively, like a wounded animal still trying to warn off predators.

"Was it that you couldn't see Diana?" he questioned, staring right into the boy's eyes and watching as they became more and more cold, hatred on such a great level stored just behind those dark orbs.

"Did it have something to do with Caine Soren?" he asked directly, watching as Drake's eyes widened slightly before he snarled animally, leaning forward to hiss angrily at the doctor. Still, though, the boy refused to speak. "Perhaps with the FAYZ?" he prodded, really just taking shots in the dark, trying to find the trigger. He felt so close to a breakthrough with Drake. If he could only get him to talk, to finally unleash all of the thoughts and anger he'd been holding in, perhaps they could finally make some progress. "Maybe something that happened in the FAYZ?"

"What the hell would you know about it?" Drake spat suddenly, eyes flashing with cold lightning. "What could you possibly know about anything?! Huh?! You weren't there, okay? None of you stupid adults were! You think you know what happened, think you understand, but none of you have a fucking clue what it was like!" Drake was ranting now, eyes livid as he yelled at the doctor. The doctor had to keep himself both from shrinking back and from smiling. Finally.

"You weren't there when everyone started getting their powers! You weren't there when the food started running out! You weren't there when the Darkness came, when Caine lost it, when I lost it!" he yelled, chest heaving. The doctor tried to soak everything that the boy was releasing in, knowing he'd been listening to the tapes of this session again later.

"You didn't feel the hunger, the thirst, the fear! Dammit, you adults don't know a damn thing! You weren't there during the war, you didn't see those damn bugs, you never felt yourself being cooked alive by some kid who can shoot fucking lasers from his hands!" The doctor blinked in confusion, having no idea what Drake was talking about but knowing it was all very very important.

"You never felt that thing in your head, telling you what to do, making you feel like you were being pulled apart when you didn't listen," he hissed, voice suddenly low but no less enraged. "You have no idea what it's like to be thrown against a ceiling by the force of someone else's mind. You don't know what it's like to watch and feel yourself burning, inch by inch, or to be cut apart into pieces, only to form back together seconds later. You don't get what it's like to go months without a single scrap to eat or a single drop of water, and you feel it, feel that burning aching pain deep in your bones, but you still don't die. You'll never have to share your body with someone else, never feel yourself morphing into something not even alive, something you killed, feeling your bones and skin shifting and then you're not you anymore and it's like you don't even exist, just floating around in no-man's land waiting for your turn to use your own damn body.

"You don't even know what I'm talking about," he finished, exhaling angrily, violently breathing as the doctor tried to process what he'd just heard.

Clearly, the doctor thought warily, this 'FAYZ' has caused Drake to exaggerate to exponential proportions as well as believe he was schizophrenic. He didn't think he was working with two different personalities, so clearly Drake had overcome the latter after the dome fell. But the rest of it…no one could live months with any food and water or have themselves cut into pieces and then be put back together and live. But still, this was a major breakthrough.

Perhaps Drake had thought he'd had a different personality to relocate him from difficult situations, perhaps to prevent himself from being blamed while his body attacked others. The exaggerations were surely just a way for him to express how horrible he felt things had been, though he did recall that many of the children from the FAYZ had either claimed powers themselves or to have known others who had possessed powers, though no one had witnessed anyone using these powers since the done had become transparent towards the end. Once it had fallen completely, it seemed everything supernatural had gone with it. Perhaps one of the children had burned Drake.

His eyes landed on the boy's missing limb. That was right. There'd been burn marks on the end, just before his skin had met the smooth, red skin of whatever that tentacle-like thing had been on his arm when he'd first arrived. No one had had a single idea as to where it'd come from or how it'd happened and Drake hadn't been forthcoming with information. They'd wanted to send it to a lab and have it studied, but the moment they'd cut it free from Drake's person it had shriveled up and disintegrated into dust. They hadn't been able to learn a single thing about it.

Of course, Diana or one of the others might know something, but it was like it was taboo to bring up Drake to any of the other FAYZ survivors. It seemed that many of the children had deep rooted traumas due to Drake specifically. They worked fine through their therapy, but one mention of Drake Merwin could send them screaming back into their nightmares.

"You're right," Dr. Raymond finally spoke, making Drake jerk his head up to look at him, the boy's long dirty-blond bangs falling in front of his eyes. "I don't understand anything of what you've told me, but I can't help you if I don't understand. So why don't you explain to me what, exactly, you went through in the FAYZ?" he questioned lowly, calmly. "I'm not trying to judge you, Drake. I simply want to help you move past this tragic event," he placated.

Drake was watching him like a hawk, eyes wary. But there was something else in there too and the doctor could see it. Exhaustion. Drake was tired, and if he was lucky, he was tired of holding things in. It might just be time to really begin the treatment of Drake Merwin.

"I…" Drake spoke, head bowed forward as he began hesitantly. "I…hate you," he finished anticlimactically.

"I realize that, but I'm the only person willing to listen," the doctor pointed out, not exactly kindly. But in this whole process, he'd learned that Drake did not react well with kindness. Instead, the boy seemed to prefer brutal honesty and harshness.

He heard Drake sigh, still not moving for a long time. Technically, the therapy session's time-slot had run out nearly twenty minutes ago but he didn't dare cut Drake off, not now.

"My dad was a police officer," Drake spoke. The doctor blinked, confused. He hadn't really expected that beginning. "My mom was a real estate agent. They were both busy a lot." He paused again. The doctor was getting the feeling that Drake didn't share this much.

"I...got bored with the sitters all the time. It was never the same one in a row. I'd scare them away. If mom and dad couldn't get a babysitter, then one of them would have to stay home with me," he spoke, sounding almost pleased. "One time, dad stayed with me and showed me his guns. They were so cool. I really like guns," his voice was getting easier, though he'd yet to look up. "He let me hold one and taught me the proper way to load it. He even took me to the shooting range that Saturday to practice. It was awesome." It was clear these were fond memories to Drake, as he sounded happier and more at peace than the doctor had ever heard.

"But then, this new guy came to the school. He was two years ahead of me. He thought he was going to rule the school. He grabbed my book bag and poured everything out into a puddle one day when I wouldn't give him my money." Drake's teeth must have been clenched, as the words were coming out tightly.

"Then he started shoving me into walls whenever he'd walk by, cutting in front of me in line, tripping me during gym. I hated him," he growled lowly, dangerously.

"So one day, he heard me talking to this other kid about this new game I had. He told me he wanted it and if I didn't give it to him he was going to beat me up. I had begged dad for months for that game, no way was I giving it away. Mom got mad and yelled at me when I came home that night and tracked mud in the house; she didn't say anything about the bruises, limp, or black eye that I'd had the next day though," he growled, vindictively. Dr. Raymond was quietly listening, beginning to understand where this was headed.

"At school the next day, he told me the same thing. For three weeks, I went home every day after school only to be caught in this alley or pulled behind this building. But then I remembered something: dad didn't keep his guns locked up. They were just in their case on the really high shelf in their closet."

"I told that kid the next day in class that I would give him the game, but he had to follow me home to get it. He did. I told him to wait in the living room while I went and got it. I dragged a chair over to the closet and stood on it. I was just barely able to, but I managed to pull the gun case down and got the gun loaded, just like dad had taught me. Then I walked downstairs and, when he asked me where it was, I pointed and shot. He was lucky I didn't hit his head like I'd wanted."

After that, Drake got quiet, not speaking again for a long time.

"And that was how you got sent to Coates?" the doctor prodded.

"That was how I got sent to Coates," he murmured, finally looking up to show unfeeling eyes to the doctor. "I wish I could meet that kid again, doc. I wouldn't miss this time," he stated evenly.

"I thought you were a…bully at Coates Academy. Why would you take up the personality of someone you hated?" he asked.

Drake smirked darkly. "I had always been a 'bully', doc. It was just that one kid who'd been above me. But see, at Coates, I had a fresh start, and I swore to myself that I'd be the ruler there. No one was going to mess with me because I was going to be the top of the food chain. And I had been. Until Caine," he seethed, angry.

"Caine was stronger than you?" he asked.

"No, he was a freak," he hissed. "He was nowhere near my level, but then he got those stupid powers and thought he was some big shot. Then he wanted to order me around, to tell me what to do. I don't like being told what to do, doc," Drake pointed out menacingly.

"So then Caine started treating you just as the first boy from your childhood had," the doctor concluded. "So you wanted to kill Caine too because he bullied you."

"I wasn't bullied," Drake stressed, eyes flashing angrily. "I was the bully. I was who everyone was afraid of. Me! Not Caine! But now I had to answer to the Great-and-Fearless Leader before I could do anything. Anything I had, everything I wanted, it was all Caine's!" he yelled angrily before huffing.

The doctor suddenly felt something click in his mind and he leaned forward a bit, face serious. "Everything you wanted was Caine's…like Diana Ladris?"

Drake stiffened, eyes widening. He was staring at the doctor in surprise, thrown completely for a loop. It was clear he hadn't been expecting that.

"No, I…I never wanted Diana," Drake refuted, struggling to gain control over his reactions.

"Or, maybe you had a crush on her, but Caine spoke with her first? Turned her against you? And then you wanted to hurt her, fixated yourself on her, because if you couldn't have her you certainly weren't going to let Caine have her. She was your game and, since you couldn't shoot Caine with your dad's gun, the only thing you could do was break the game before Caine could take it from you."

Drake was speechless, staring at the doctor like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of some way to deny it. No, that wasn't right. He hadn't…he didn't…

How had that first day gone again? Drake was having trouble remembering. He'd hated her because she'd made fun of him from the first moment. He'd never had a crush on her.

Only, he could remember…vaguely, something different happening. That hadn't been the first time. The first time had been the day before, on moving day, when all the new students came. Drake had been out front, looking for any new competition, when she'd stepped from her father's car moodily and slammed the door shut angrily. Not exactly a rare sight at Coates; it was almost always the parent's choice for the children to be here and none of them were really happy about it. The surprising thing had been when her dad had gotten out, scowl on his face, and stomped to the back of the car, throwing out two large suitcases as she glared at him. Then, he'd left without a backwards glance, the girl left standing in the middle of the road with two red, huge suitcases that she'd never be able to carry on her own.

Drake hadn't known what had possessed him, but he'd already been moving towards her. He'd had trouble speaking at first when she'd looked up to meet his eyes, her's a dark brown that had captivated him. After stuttering a bit and fighting back a blush, he'd managed to get out an offer to carry her bags for her. She smiled then, hand brushing against his arm flirtatiously. Then, the movement had made his skin spark with electricity, but now he knew it was just Diana knowing and expecting him to fall under her spell. He'd lifted the heavy bags fairly easy, telling her to lead the way.

She was beautiful. Her long hair falling down her back and swishing with every step as she walked in front of him. She'd been asking him questions and he'd answered her as best he could, quickly getting where he could speak to her like a normal person and not an embarrassingly pathetic wimp. When she'd turned around after he'd placed her bags in her room, looking up at him with a small smile on her face and brushing his forearm with her fingers, offering her thanks, he'd never felt so completely transfixed. He could remember going back to his room and—he paused, visage morphing as he growled lowly.

And he'd told Caine.

"She was mine," Drake hissed under his breath possessively. "She was mine and Caine took her. I saw her first. I talked to her first. She was mine," he repeatedly claimed, anger building.

"Do you think this is why you hate Caine so much? Why you hate Diana so much?" the doctor asked.

"She had to have remembered me. Why did she go with him?" Drake asked. "I've always been stronger. And Caine was such a stuttering embarrassing wimp. He never got over it; always caving to anything she wanted, always hesitant to even hold her hand. So why did she go with him?" he demanded. "Did he look better than me? Was it because he was nicer? Surely she didn't like him being so pathetic and spineless."

And suddenly, the doctor thought to himself, he sounds almost like a normal teenage boy.

"Perhaps it was because you started being mean to her. She must have thought you were no longer interested in her," he pointed out.

Drake frowned at that, eyes focusing on the table as he thought. From that second meeting, when she'd come over with that smile with Caine of all people, and then made that comment…he hadn't really thought. He'd only seen Caine's eyes flash in victory, his smirk at him claiming he'd won, and then he'd just blown up. But he could see it now; her face faltering just momentarily as he'd yelled at her, Caine's arms holding him back from under his own. Her smile had fell just slightly, seemed a bit more forced. Her smile…had it been for him? Had she been smiling at him and not because Caine? Had he ruined it in that moment?

Just like he had last Friday?

Drake didn't know what he was supposed to do now. Clearly he'd accepted that maybe he might kind of like Diana. But what did this therapy help anyone if they just made them realize stuff after they'd screwed everything up? And besides, even if he did meet Diana again—which was very unlikely, let's face it—it wasn't like he was going to suddenly change and be all nice. He wasn't about to become some pansy like Caine and bend to her ever wish and will. He would never be some weak, spineless plaything to her. And he definitely wasn't going to sit there and tell her all this. That was bullshit and his doctor would have to be bat-shit crazy to expect him to.

"I might…think that maybe…I didn't act in everyone's best interest last week," he grumbled out, refusing to meet with the doctor's eyes. The elder man was smiling slightly. That was the closest he'd ever heard of Drake Merwin coming to admitting he regretted something he'd done. This truly had been a breakthrough.

"I believe that perhaps you didn't also," he spoke. "But now that you can see that too we might just be able to figure out how you can move past it," he suggested.

Drake looked up, a frown on his face. His eyes though, which were really the telling points on the teenager's face, were looking almost…eager, at least slightly. Perhaps he really was ready to begin the process of healing and moving past the mental disease he'd lived under for so long.

So yes, I'm going to attempt what has never been attempted before (at least, I don't think it has. Correct me if I'm wrong). I'm going to try to make Drake Merwin normal while keeping him IC. Who thinks it's possible?

...

I might have bit off more than I can chew. But what the heck, right? Let's give it a shot!

Also a note: I apologize for the minor OCs appearing in here. They're not going to get much if any more screen time. I think the only OC with any lasting value would be the Doc. And sorry for the names; I suck at naming characters.

Another note: Okay, it's been a long while since I've read any of the books and I don't remember very much in terms of details. I also don't have time to read them all, as I've noted before. Thus, I apologize if I get any of Drake's back story wrong. You'd think I'd have my favorite character's history memorized at least but I just don't, so I'm sorry but I'm going to be taking some fanfiction writer's liberties. I'm trying to fit in everything I can remember, but as far as detailed scenarios...look, I don't remember what his mom was like (or even if she was mentioned in the books...I feel like she must have been), I don't remember why he shot that kid, and I can't really remember much of anything about any of these kids. There's too many back stories in this series, on top of all the other multitude of messed up shows/books I watch/read. So again, I apologize. Hopefully you like my rendition. :)