Summary:
Typical Drake & Josh storyline. Drake and Josh plan to go to a concert where a famous singer will be, but get sidetracked when a mysterious box addressed to Walter shows up and Meghan's pranks take over. Drake also must deal with an annoying girl (who says everything with a "w") from his class, that also shows signs she has a crush on him. When he & Josh go to the concert, something terrible happens.
Disclaimer:
If you think I own anything, go to the nearest psychiatrist. Please. As a service to all humanity.
Note to Readers:
This chapter is creepy. Well, at least, that's what I want it to be. If it disappoints you, me sorry. Happy 2006 everyone! I hope I can make you freaked with this chapter. BWHAHAA!
Story: "Party in a Box"
Chapter: "Face to Face"; Nineteen
Written By: Ginger
Extras:
Italics in "quotation marks" symbolize thoughts of
Drake's.
Italic Bold paragraphs are flashbacks.
Italic, Bold, and Underlined "he's refer to the mysterious man.
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As Drake sat alone on his bed, facing the wall and focusing wholly on keeping himself together, he felt for the first time that he hardly ever wanted to see Anita again. It was a very deep and exhausting mix of emotions that he felt toward her—not pure hatred, but not quite love either. He wanted to love her, but he knew that he couldn't after what she had done to him. And even with his own brother. How heartless could she be?
But in Josh's case, he knew that he never wanted to have to look at his face again. If he had, he would have been so blinded by this rumor that he would have only seen a liar—a treacherer, not the truly innocent and worried brother that Josh really was.
Suddenly a sound behind him brought his eyes back in to focus and he snapped out of his thoughts, gasping an earnestly startled breath. He had begun to think it had just been his imagination and he wasn't going to bother turning around to look, but then, unexpectedly, another noise was heard closer behind him and something warm touched his back. He jumped and spun around, in a jittery snap, genuinely shaken. You would have thought that seeing the fact that it was only his brother that stood on the ladder to his bed, would have calmed him down, but indeed, it did nothing of the kind. "Hey, Drake—" Josh began in a soft, caring voice, but being instantly cut off by the other boy: "What do you want?" Drake sounded more helpless than angry. "…I want to listen." Josh answered, reaching over and laying a gentle hand on his step brother's knee. Drake froze and closed his eyes in pain, unable to move for a moment. When he managed to, he slid further back on the bed, out of his brother's reach: "Listen to what?" "Anything you're willing to talk about. I know you're really upset, but I also know that deep down inside, you're upset about something more than just this silly rumor. I can see it in your face." Josh answered, climbing to last step and sitting beside the vulnerable teen ager.
Drake frowned a hurt frown and shook his head, giving a weary blink, as he slowly rose and began to climb down from the bed: "I… I don't want to talk to you." Josh winced and felt his heart start to pump, at the sound of Drake's voice almost cracking. "Listen, you can't do this, brother—I would never even imagine hurting you like I would if I took Anita from you!" he said, also shaking his head, in disbelief: "You actually believe that—" "Josh, I'm not talking to you about it—or about anything! I just don't want to have anything to do with someone who would hurt me so much! If you wanted Anita, the half decent thing to do would have been to tell me, instead of going behind my back and trying to take her from me!" Drake cried, jumping down from the ladder and turning, taking a few steps from the bed and looking at his brother with a deeply wounded look. "Drake!" Josh replied, all of the sudden loosing his cool and letting out a harsh yell: "Stop it!"
Drake's eyes widened in fear and he stood stock still as Josh jumped down, coming face to face with him: "I'm not going to let you keep on believing stupid lies! I never did anything with Anita! I knew she was yours and I was never interested in her more than a friend! How can you do this to me?-! You of all people should know how it is to be blamed with something like that that you didn't know! You're—you're just as stupid as Anita was when she thought you were with Stephanie. I'm so disappointed in you, Drake Parker!" Josh finished his loud, heart stopping rant, and frowned deeply as he watched his step brother's face.
The next intense few seconds were gripped hard with almost unfathomable emotion. Drake's brown eyes were big and dilated with the same fear that had been instilled deep in him since he was only a little child, but that Josh had never seen. Even when he had seen Drake cry hard before, he had never seen such blatant fear written on his face. Drake just kept staring on, with the same shocked, terrified eyes, at his brother who stood only a few inches from him, breathing harshly.
Finally, after maybe twenty seconds, his eye brows moved in to a hurting, violated frown and his eyes closed as he bent over, falling to the floor with a loud thud. Josh felt his heart skip a few beats and he gasped, realizing that Drake couldn't have possibly been able to handle what he had dished out. "Drake…" he murmured, dropped to his knees beside the boy that lay beside him, in a heap on the floor. Josh felt everything melt in to a blur around him and he wrapped an arm around his brother's waist and the other around his shoulders, drawing him up and standing, with Drake's limp body draped in his arms. He carried his brother toward his own bed and had barely laid him in it before a voice made his head snap up: "Josh!"
Anita stood in their doorway, staring in shock toward the unconscious boy lying in the bed: "What—what happened?" she exclaimed, running over beside the bed and dropping down beside the boy whom she loved so much. "Anita, I lost control—I shouted at him—and he was so near the breaking point that he passed out in to the floor." Josh said, not taking his eyes off of his brother. Anita let out a worried breath and exclaimed: "Oh, my poor Drake…" She motioned for Josh to lift the boy's weary head and she slid beneath him, placing his head in her lap and stroking his face, trying to wake him. "What's his pulse like?" she managed to murmur. Josh, who was barely able to restrain tears, reached out and took Drake's thin wrist in his hand: "It's alright." But even after he told Anita this, he still held to him, gazing fearfully at his brother's closed eyes. "Josh—" Anita began, and he felt a hand on his shivering shoulder, so he looked up to see her looking back at him: "Don't worry, Josh. He had to process his emotions sometime, and if this was the way it had to happen, it'll turn out for the better. And when he wakes up, I bet you two will be feeling much better about talking it out."
"Anita... even if that's true, I don't know about it myself. I mean-- I've really emotionally hurt him! So bad that he even fainted! He's a healthy, strong sixteen year old-- he shouldn't just suddenly pass out." Josh said, standing and turning his face to the side, so he didn't have to look at the boy lying motionlessly across the mattress, to whom he'd caused considerable hurt. "Josh..." the girl's voice said slowly, as she carefully moved from under Drake and stood, walking beside the other teen age boy, laying a kind hand on his shuddering arm: "If ever had a more loving brother than Drake has of you, I haven't seen it. If you would actually care about him, even when he is accusing you of something terrible-- then there's no way he can go very long with out realizing how much that's true... and how much that rumor about us isn't." For a second, Josh actually let a little smile float to his lips and her turned to her, looking at her with thankful eyes: "He's got a pretty good girlfriend, too, Nita. ...Thanks for everything you've done for him-- even if you and I never understand what has hurt him so badly in his past." The girl only smiled back and then they both glanced back toward the boy on the bed.
Stepping over to him, Anita left Josh in the middle of the room, and bent to sit on the bed, beside him. Sadness filled her eyes and she shook her head slowly, whispering almost under her breath: "If only I knew what to do for you..." "Nita, I--I really don't think I should be here when he wakes up. Maybe if... maybe if you just stay with him for a while, while I go downstairs and wait. When he wakes up, you could maybe tell him how much he... means to you, and then try and talk with him about it. I don't think he wants to see me, anymore. Not until some of this is all cleared up in his mind." Josh spoke, quietly, shifting his weight and looking down. "Is that how you feel, Josh?" she asked, almost as quietly as he had. "I think it'd be better. ...Don't you?" he paused cautiously and looked up at her face for approval. "Of course." she spoke. "Good. And thanks again, Anita-- you don't mean anything to me as a romantic interest, but... I'd be happy to have you as a sister." as Josh spoke the last few words, he glanced toward his brother and let out a tiny, half saddened smile. With sweet tears welling in the young girl's eyes, she looked up at Josh: "You don't disapprove of me then?" Instead of saying anything, he took a slow step toward the bed and reached out, picking up her hand and with a heart melting smile of true caring, he placed it over the crown of Drake's soft, silky brunette hair, then letting go and stepping back as he murmured a soft: "How could I, sister?" before turning and walking through the door.
Anita looked after the brother, as he disappeared from the room, and then sighed, with a mixed shake of the head. She was staring in deep though for a moment after ward, but turned to tend to the boy beside her when she felt him move restlessly beneath her fingers entangling his hair, and heard him breath out a deep exhale.
Leaning over him, she saw his deep brown, caramel eyes blink once as he stared up at the ceiling with almost child like confusion. "Drake?" she asked, in a whisper, feeling her heart skip about as she reached for his hand and he gripped it tightly. "...Nita. What--what happened?" he said, collapsing back in to the security of her extended arm and closed his eyes for a brief moment, gasping in a breath. "You fainted. Do you remember? Are you feeling alright now?" "I... Josh was standing so close and yelli--" Drake murmured, stopping himself when with a sudden rush, all his knowledge and memory was restored to the fullest in his mind. At this, he sat up and cupped his forehead in the palms of his hands, managing a distress filled: "Oh, no..."
The girl who sat beside him could do nothing except stare on in worry as he sighed and stood, shakily taking a step away. Before he could begin to say anything, Anita stood and walked around in front of him, to look closely in to his face: "Drake, before you say or do anything-- I want to ask one, simple question." "...What is it?" he asked, feeling his heart beating almost erratically now. She stared in to his face for a long moment a with an earnest, melting look flashing through her wet eyes, she spoke: "Do you love me?"
Drake sucked in an almost painful breath and closed his eyes before gradually dropping his head down to stare at the floor. After a long quietness, he looked half way back up and shook his head in a deep twinge of heartache: "Yes, but, I don't know what to do about it..." The girl that stood only inches away from him felt his words vibrate through her throbbing chest and her arms go almost numb with anguish as she found words to speak: "Drake, please don't hate me for something I never did... I couldn't take you feeling such pain over a thing that never had happened." she murmured, grabbing her forehead with a shaky hand and beginning to sob against it.
All of the sudden, Drake felt a pain flit away from his heart and in it's place came a numbness over his entire body, along with a shiver of tenderness. He gasped in a sigh and reached forward, throwing aside any reservations and taking her in to his arms: "...Anita-- my poor Anita..." his voice began to sound serious and highly affected by his freely flowing emotions: "You do love me, don't you?" Anita had managed to stop herself from crying and at this question, she stared in to those beloved, dark eyes after a minute, giving in to her desire and leaning in to him, in a gentle kiss.
Both of the teen agers pulled from one another after another ground shaking shudder passed through them, and stood with their mouths slightly open, shocked smiles forming at the corner of their lips. "What just happened?" he smiled, shaking his head and catching her hand in his. "Something... something wonderful." she muttered, blinking hers soft green blue eyes shut for a minute, to take everything in.
But suddenly, amid the heavenly happiness, she gasped and snapped her eyes open, looking up at him: "Drake... your brother is so upset with himself! You have to go explain to him that you don't believe that rumor anymore." Instead of the surprised look she had imagined she'd see, she saw a look of hurt, making her back a step away: "...What--what's the matter?" "Josh." the boy answered, staring past her in to the blank space. "Drake, he didn't do anything. You have to go apologize for taking out such a silly rumor on him, so judgmentally." she replied, in confusion. "No! I mean-- I can't! He didn't do anything to you, as I had thought, but he did do something." the slim boy whispered, in a weary, detesting voice. "What?" Nita managed to whisper, he heart beating once more in pain, as she wondered if this stupid mess would ever be over. "He... he came at me!" "What?" "Not... to hurt me psychically, I guess, but the look on his face-- the tone in his voice-- Anita, I can't look at him! I'll start crying and breakdown, maybe even faint again if things get out of hand!" his stunned voice replied, looking down at the floor with a concerned frown.
"Drake... I know you have had bad things--very, very bad things-- happen to you in the past. But please, for one moment, use your head. This is Josh-- your brother, we're speaking of. He loves you more than he would love a blood brother, if he had one. I can't describe to you everything he said or did to show that to me today, but let me tell you with the deepest of honesty in my soul-- Josh didn't mean to hurt you so badly. If I hadn't have been here, earlier, when you passed out, he would have bawled his eyes out over you. So, please... please just give him one chance, again." "Okay, Anita. For you, I'll go talk to him. But... oh, thank God you're here for me." he exclaimed, biting his lip and looking at her through the edges of his amber bangs. "I will be here for you, sweetheart... forever." she murmured, shyly lifting a hand and brushing back the golden brown strands from his eyes, with a timid smile. He took in a recovering breath and then stepped toward the door.
The trip to the living room was maybe the most gut wrenching of anything that had happened yet. If nothing else, just the flashbacks that Josh had stirred up where driving the disturbed teenage boy out of his skull. As he ad and Anita slowly made their way down the stairs and went on in through the hall, stalling in a pause near the entry to the living room, Drake's stomach decided to leap in to his throat and bounce around, eventually conjuring itself in to knots, making him feel nauseous. But suddenly everything halted-- his stomach, his eyes, his breath and for a moment as his brother heard the and turned to stand up, even his heart.
Anita looked on at Josh with a hopeful facial expression and taking Drake by the hand, began to lead him across the expanse that fell between the two step brothers. But then, with out so much as a second of warning, Drake's worn mind flashed with a bolt of memories, suddenly pulling reality away and replacing it with a re-accurance of his past.
The sweet brunette boy ran quickly in to an upper room, swinging a door closed and locking it as best as he could. He refused to let go of the doorknob, out of his own fears, and finally realizing he had narrowly escaped, he melted toward the door which he had shut so tightly, in exhaustion. He stood there a moment-- just like this-- and then finally slid down the tall oak door, in a tired heap on the floor. He panted a breath and tried to calm himself, but he knew there was no way he could calm his soul. He sat back up after a long while, beginning to ache from laying on the cold floor, and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling in thought. "Some great birthday this is."
Across the small room, he saw the silver of a cell phone laying on the cluttered bed flash in the light, and he gazed at it for a long time before decided that he couldn't call anyone about this. He heaved a sigh and finally stood up from the blocked doorway, assuring himself that he was safe inside this latched room.
He lingered a moment, beside the door as he heard a muffled yell downstairs and felt his heart murmur. Shaking it off after a second, he knew that the best thing he could do was to stay in here, alone and away from trouble. He fell toward his soft bed and laid amongst the small piles of shirts that he owned, which were few and worn, but with which had somehow always managed to make people think he had much and all brand new. He blew a stray strand of auburn hair from his mysterious eyes and looked up at the wall behind him, as he folded his hands over his chest. It was covered in pinups and album covers of assorted people, but mostly the Beatles. Drake had a lot of stuff on his wall, it's true, and he had a whole collection of albums, but how he gotten them was a wonder to even him, himself.
His mother always had found a way to give him some things that he wanted, but they never had any money. A few times they hardly had enough for the sandwich dinners and the electric bill, but some how, they always got by with out living in the street, starving in a cardboard box. He went to public school down the street and had only a few friends, but he seemed pretty contented. Some of his friends that had it almost as bad as he did, would get upset because he could get an album or two from the Antique's store or a special cd or book from the mall from time to time, but the ones that did, didn't really realize how deeply the young boy was injured inside. The only things he had to light himself back up with were his albums and his guitar, and so he cherished them very much-- only maybe sometimes too much, making others jealous of him, for a while. But he would merely shake it off and stuff it in some recessed corner of himself until it eventually burst out, usually ending in a crying, hysterical, depressed mess.
Drake Parker had a tough side-- the cool, "whatever" side-- that he gave to people outside himself. He felt as if maybe if he played like life didn't bother him, it wouldn't really bother him after a while. He also knew that this plan had a long list of faults and usually ended up making him miserable-- but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how to escape from this endless cycle of torment.
Today had been bad. It was his thirteenth birthday. He had been very excited the night before, about turning thirteen and finally being able to be label a "teenager", but suddenly this morning everything had faded in to the bleak dismalness again. He hated to live like this, but who could help being so down trodden when someone was making everything so black, so hopeless for you. He didn't mind the screaming so much any more-- he more wanted to roll his eyes to that and retort with a snide comment, but when it came to mind games and other things of that nature, he began to slip from the false "tough kid" image.
Suddenly
something awoke him from his daze as he'd been staring up at his
beloved posters.
"HEY!"
The loud shout was accompanied with a growl and a rattled of the door knob. "Open this door, you trash!" he began to pound his fist on the door, making it shudder inwardly. Drake's eyes snapped open as wide and dilated as they would go and he flew from the bed, toward the throbbing door.
"OPEN IT NOW!" the voice on the other side shouted, so loud that the boy thought his ear drums might shatter. The fists continued to lay in to the wooden door, and cussing, in an earth shaking volume could be heard easily, coming from the opposite doorway. The harsh screams continued again and again with the same threats that he'd heard over and over before-- the same threats that secretly frightened him so much that he could hardly sleep at all. And finally, with almost a whole dictionary of bad language and one last, window shuddering pound, the man behind the door stomped down the stairs.
Drake felt himself breath in for almost the first time since the psycho rant had began and he sank again to the floor beside the worn doorway. He didn't feel like crying like he usually did, but he only let out a deeply darkened sigh and leaned his head against the solid surface beside him, wondering how long he'd have to do this.
With a snap, all of the sudden he was returning to the real world, almost as fast as his mind had transported him from it. With a shudder, his fudge colored eyes came back in to focus and he saw Josh standing in front of him with noticeable tears welling in his own, usually laughing eyes. And with a flash, Drake's heart sighed as he knew that Josh could never hurt him as bad as any of those things in the past had hurt him.
There was a rather long pause as Drake had mulled these things over and then for the first time in hours, he let out a tearfully happy smile: "...Josh!" Before hardly either of the two boys knew what had occurred, they were in each other's arms and both fighting back overwhelming tears. "Drake--do you really forgive me? I'm so, so sorry." Josh murmured, feeling his throat beginning to tighten in a choked up pain. "Forgive you for what? My being a looser?-!" his step brother exclaimed, leaning back to look in to the other teen's face. "No!" Josh exclaimed, and the shook his head, after gazing at his brother for a long time: "Aw, get over here!" He grabbed the thinner boy around the shoulders and hugged him until he had to let go, for fear he might suffocate.
"Aww!" Anita squeaked from the edge of the room, waving a hand in front of her teary eyes. "You get over here too!" Drake exclaimed, motioning to her as he watched her over his brother's shoulder. She let out a deeply affected chuckled and sniffled, running across the room and flinging herself in to a joyful group - hug with her two friends. Soon they all stepped back and sat down on the couch to rest and talk out their feelings, but most of all, to apologize.
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Drake sighed as he settled down on top of his bed's comforter, and laid his head back in to the cottony pillow. He was happy in a way, but in another way he had a mounting feeling of dread inside. Thinking about it to himself, he really couldn't understand it. "What's the matter with me? Everything is worked out—Josh wasn't lying, he didn't cheat with my girlfriend, Anita apparently likes me a whole lot… and Meghan isn't even here to torture us. So why am I so depressed?" He shook his head and scooted under the sheets, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep, but thinking that he might as well try.
Josh was downstairs somewhere, doing something, but Drake wasn't going to wait for him to come up to get in bed, he was too upset. He just felt like a big darkness had come to hang over him and he knew that the only way to get rid of it was to try and sleep.
--
Drake woke in the very middle of the night in a extreme panic. He jerked in to a sitting position and glanced around the dark room, feeling his heart beat almost out of his chest. He had a horrible feeling and he didn't know exactly why he had woken up, but something was terribly, terribly wrong. He only sat in the dark, listening to the dead silence for a few minutes and blew his brunette hair from his eyes as the bluish grey moonlight streamed across his bed from the cold window beside him.
He looked over, across the room and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, then seeing that Josh was still deeply asleep in his bed. With a thankful sigh, he waited for another long, silent period and then let out a tiny chuckle at himself. "How silly you are to get so freaked out over nothing! Sure, you and Josh are alone in the house, but so what? You're sixteen, Drake Parker! Good grief, what will you be thinking next—the Boogeyman?" Shaking his head, he let out another giggle and sat back in to the mound of pillows behind him. He was still quite curious as to what had woken him, but was sure that there was nothing really the matter.
After a minute more of just listening, he was beginning to think he was going crazy and perhaps needed just to chill out, but then, as clear as anything, he heard it—a slow, muffled scratching noise coming from some place near the hall, outside their room. It made Drake's ears perk up and sent a heavy shudder down his spine. Though their closed door partially muffled the noise, he was sure he had heard it, and almost found himself wanting not to believe his own ears—after all, the noise that had been something no one teen ager would have wanted to hear, while his brother slept unshakably in the corner and there was no other family member in the house.
Then suddenly, with out any warning, the sound came again—closer and louder. It was such an indescribable noise—almost as if someone was dragging heavy sandpaper slowly across the wall of the next room, for a length of about eight to ten seconds. Drake was sure this would wake his brother, but to his alarm, it didn't. It was once of the most bone chilling moments Drake had felt for a long, long time.
He was completely puzzled, terrified, curious and anxious all at the same time. What could this thing possibly be? He knew he had to do something, and not just sit there, waiting for some terrible thing to happen, and he decided upon trying to wake his brother. He was almost too freaked out to get up from the temporary safety of his bed, and certainly wasn't going to wake him by yelling. Finally he gathered enough strength and courage and jumped up, quickly sliding the ladder, as the frighteningly mysterious sound repeat.
When he reached the side of his step brother's bed, he quickly reached over and grabbed his arm, beginning to roughly shake it. "Josh! Wake up!" he hissed, in a whispering voice, afraid that if he spoke any louder, whatever was making that terrible noise might hear him. But even despite Drake's incessant shaking and whispers, Josh was too sound asleep. He half aroused for a moment once, but within maybe ten seconds, was once again unconscious. Drake groaned under his breath and tried feverishly to wake Josh, but to no avail.
Finally, he gave up the task and stepped back, glancing up toward the door, maybe ten feet away. The sound had momentarily ceased, but he knew it would come again. And he also knew that he would never be able to wake Josh up—and he had to find out what the noise was.
Inside his head he was battling with himself. The sounds that had been coming from the hall had stopped, it seemed, so maybe—he thought—that he'd be alright going to have a look by himself. After all, logically, it was probably only something brushing up against the heating vent, or maybe a squirrel in the attic, scratching around at the loose boards in the ceiling. The boy managed to smirk a smile at himself and roll his eyes at his still slightly lingering feelings of fear, then looking once more about the room and picking up his golf club from beside the wall. He convinced himself that wouldn't need it, but it was just for fun. Taking a deep breath, and wearing an alert look on his face, he strode across the floor and then carefully began to open the door that led in to the hall.
Everything before Drake was mostly dark, all except an eerie shaft of cool moonlight that fell from a nearby window across the floor. He gripped his golf club and stiffly lifted it to his eye level, glancing carefully around the room, from the doorway. He stepped in to the middle of the room and stood a few steps toward the stairs, simply waiting in silence, and after a moment of noticing nothing strange, he relaxed his grip on his weapon and sighed… but all too soon.
Suddenly, from behind him, he heard a giant thump and a cold hand clapped over his mouth, making him cry out in a muffled yell, against it. He kicked and battled his was in to being able to turn around, to see his assailant, but when he did, his eyes grew as big as saucers and he froze in fright. Something struck his shoulder hard, and he doubled over in pain for a moment, grabbing it, but quickly raised back up when he felt repeated blows against the back of his head. It hurt badly, but he knew he had to try and fight off his enemy.
He raised his arm, and was about to strike, but a deep, malevolent cackle carried back childhood fears and brought him to a screeching halt. With the tactical advantage, his opponent's hand snaked out, darting forward and knocking his golf club from his hand, behind him, down the stairs. Drake watched in horror, the club thud down every step, and suddenly, with a deep, involuntary gasp, he knew what awaited him.
As his attack neared him and his heart began to race, he backed toward the staircase and then, only a second before the expected blow, he managed to let out a weak and helpless yell: "Josh!..."
