Disclaimer: Same as previous chapters.

A/N: Its been a while, I've been under a lot of stress, and one of my rats died… The end of the last chapter made me stop and think about where I want to go with the rest of the story, and I had to consider each path carefully. I feel all right about my choice, hopefully all of you will too...

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Devon swished the remaining alcohol around in the nearly empty bottle, watching the amber liquid move with grace. Like ocean waves. He'd seen the ocean a few times, he and Audrey would sit on the beach and watch the sun fall when she'd been pregnant with Drake. He'd had such hopes for his family then…

He thought of what he'd wanted for them, and where they were. That man didn't deserve his family. In the darkest corners of his imagination he imagined killing him. Strangling him slowly, watching the blood drip from the corner of his mouth. It was a warm thought. But he couldn't do it, he couldn't leave his little girl with no one to provide for her.

He turned his bloodshot eyes toward the window, staring into the noon-day sun. Drake had had enough time to himself. Devon lit a cigarette and pushed himself out of the chair.

Drake was on the floor, still deep in sleep. Even in that dark oblivion he could feel the ache in his body. Everything hurt, every bit of him was dying a slow, agonizing death. He could hear the floor creak as Devon entered the room, the vibrations in the floor waking him with their warning of pain.

"Open your eyes, Drake." Devon commanded.

Drake slowly lifted his heavy eyes lids, staring with hollow eyes into his father's cold eyes.

"Duty first." Devon said as he pulled Drake to his feet, sneering at him as his weakened legs gave out and sent him back onto the floor. "Pathetic." He growled as he lifted Drake again and held him up as he lead him to the bathroom. He removed the handcuffs and pushed him through the door, watching him fall on his knees. "Five minutes."

Drake stretched his arms slowly, they were stiff from being bound behind his back all night. He stopped and looked at his wrist. It was swollen twice the size of his other. He crawled toward the toilet, and instantly began to vomit. The act itself tore through his chest, burning and hurting more then before. What little he had was now gone, nothing more and an acidic blob laced with blood.

He cried empty tears as he lay on the floor, there was nothing left. He was empty and broken. Bruised and defeated. He'd never get home, see his family again. He just wanted to die. An end to the pain and nothingness that had become so familiar to him.

It seamed like forever before Devon opened the door, staring down at him with disgust. He didn't say anything as Devon helped him to his feet and ushered him back to the bedroom. He was an empty Shell. Drake made no act of protest as his arms were again restrained above him to the exposed pipe in the ceiling.

He felt the whip lacerate his back, again and again it reopened the old cuts and made new ones. He was numb to it all.

Devon threw the whip down. He dragged on his cigarette and stormed around Drake, standing in front of him. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"Yes sir." He responded quietly.

Devon looked over his bruised son, taking in the damage. It wasn't until now that he saw just how hurt he truly was. He'd gone very far too fast. "Some of those cuts might get infected…" he said to himself.

"Doesn't matter." Drake's voice was broken.

Devon smiled coldly. He knew how to get a reaction from the boy. He stepped toward Drake, taking a final hit from his cigarette before pushing it against the skin of his arm. Drake's eyes widened and he screamed. He could smell his skin burning and he felt his stomach churn. If there'd been anything left inside it, he would have thrown up again.

"That's more like it," Devon laughed as he left the room, returning moments later with the liquer bottle. "This may sting." He said, his eyes lighting up with cruel glee. He poured the remaining liquid over Drake's back, watching as he squirmed and screamed.

Drake turned his head, glaring as best he could at his father. "Just kill me!" He shouted. He couldn't take it anymore. "You've had your fun, just make it stop." He cast his eyes to the floor, squeezing them shut to try and hold back the coursing pain. "I'm sorry…" he said softly.

"For what?" Devon asked, watching Drake tremble.

"For everything." He choked. "I'm sorry I wasn't what you wanted me to be, I'm sorry I made you go to jail." He paused, feeling the familiar burn of salted tears over dry cheeks. "I'm sorry that I'm alive… Please, just make the pain stop dad…" he pleaded.

Devon dropped the bottle, listening to it shatter on the floor. He stared at Drake for countless minutes, and for a moment, he swore he saw him not as he was, but as the newborn creature that he had been. The one he'd loved. He shook the image away as quickly as it had arose.

"I'm not done with you." Devon said sternly. "Seven days for Seven years. That's how it works." He pulled the green cloth from his pocket and forced it into Drake's mouth. He knew what Drake was trying to do, trying to get out of his punishment early. He wouldn't listen to it. He was getting what he deserved.

"We're not done yet." He said before leaving the room.

Drake let his head fall limply toward his chest. He could feel his breath hitting his skin, but he couldn't feel himself breathing. The world around him blurred in and out of focus, and then everything went black.

Devon stormed out of the house, sitting on the broken front porch he lit another cigarette. The boy was broken now, he'd finally admitted that it had all been his fault. He used to think that that would be enough. Now he wanted more. He wanted Drake to suffer, but he was loosing him. He was dying, slowly but surly. Hadn't that been what he'd wanted all these years?

He pulled the cell phone out of his pocket, turning it on and waiting for it to power up. That image of Drake, that ghost from his past had strengthened his need for more then he had. He wanted more then just this overwhelming hate.

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Audrey was asleep on the couch, the phone still in her hands. These past four days she was never too far away from it. The police had nothing, no leads, and no solid trace. They were loosing hope of finding her little boy alive, and, a part of her was too. She knew Devon, and she knew how deep his hate ran.

She woke on the first ring, answering the phone quickly. "Hello," She said groggily.

"Morning beautiful." Devon's voice sailed across the line.

Instantly she was wide awake, pushing herself up she gripped the phone tightly. "Devon…"

"I was thinking about the past," he began. "I miss you Audrey. Your smile, your eyes."

"Where's Drake?" She asked.

"We're not talking about drake right now." He said sternly. "Drop that subject and just talk to me, then, I might let you see him."

See him. She knew that she'd heard those words. "What do you mean?" She asked quietly.

"In a moment, lets talk." He said again. "Do you remember those evenings on the beach?"

In a flash she saw them, memories of the two of them sitting on an old blanket, watching the sun set while he sang to her stomach. She could almost smell the ocean. "Yes…" She answered. "I remember."

"We were happy then, weren't we?"

"We were, very happy." She said, her eyes tearing up. "You used to sing while the waves came up and soaked our feet."

"And when we were married, and then when the kids were born?" Devon asked, lost in his own memories.

"I remember." Audrey said, trying to keep her voice calm. She hadn't thought about those days in years. "We had a good life…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"I miss you something fierce." Devon said, regaining his composure. "I, I need you Audrey."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want to see your son?"

"More then anything." She replied breathlessly.

Devon paused, taking a few moments to consider what he was saying. It would change everything. "Are you sure?"

The question taunted her. "Yes." She replied, looking around the empty house.

"I want you to drive to the mall." He said. "Don't tell anyone where your going, no note to the family, nothing. I want you to go there and wait. If I think you've told anyone, or if there are any police, you wont see him alive again, do you understand?"

She hesitated. She knew it was the wrong thing to do, but she needed to see Drake, to know that he was still alive. Maybe, maybe she could convince Devon to let him go, to let them both go. "I understand."

Devon smiled, caressing the phone in his hand. "Good. You've always been a wonderful mother." He said. "Now, go the the mall, leave your phone behind, and remember, if I think anything is out of place, I'll leave, and I will kill him while you're on the other end of this phone." He smiled. "And bring a recent picture of Meghan, I want to see my little girl."

The line went dead. Audrey stared at the phone for only a minute before jumping to feet and grabbing her keys. She grabbed a piece of paper, the only thing she wrote was 'I love you all.' And she placed it on the fridge. It might be the wring thing to do, but her child needed her, and she wouldn't leave him alone with her ex-husband.

Devon smiled as he jingled his keys. He knew Audrey well enough to know she'd do exactly as he said. She wouldn't risk Drake's life, what was left of it anyway. He got into his truck and listened to the engine roar to life, humming along with it as he drove.