Summary:
Things turn bad when Drake ends up in the hospital because of Josh; a mysterious stalker from Drake's past returns, stopping at nothing to get revenge, perhaps even murder. Drake falls for a sweet girl, but is scared to let her in his heart because of old heartbreaks. Read and review it!
Disclaimer:
I don't own Drake and Josh, obviously. But I might as well… I mean, since I have no life outside of things Drake related, and spend every second of the day either watching the show or writing this story…
Note to Readers:
This chapter is basically filler… it fills in gaps, etc. It takes place in the waiting room, mostly dialogue between Drake and Josh, and then another unexpected thing is initiated by his father. Enjoy… your veal! ….Yeah, um, it's from… "Drake & Josh Go Hollywood"… long story.
Story: "Party in a Box"
Chapter: "Biding Time"; Thirty
Written By: Ginger
Extras:
Italics in "quotation marks" symbolize thoughts of
Drake's.
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Time seemed to drag by for Drake as he lay back in the chair beside his brother's and stared up at the ceiling.
He was just as spent and tired as he had been an hour ago when he had hung up with his parents, but he had only once again shoved all his problems back in to a little, hidden corner so he could try and deal with everything.
He finally spoke up, breaking the stark silence, but immediately fell in to an indignant mood and shook his soft brunette locks once in disgust: "Why did he have to be my Dad? No, why did he have to be a Dad? I don't wish him on anybody! …How could someone be so heartless, and cold and conceited?-! Anita could've never done anything that deserved that kind of fate."
"Fate? …Drake, you know that she's going to make it out of this with flying colors. You can't actually tell me you believe that she could possibly—"
"Josh, do you understand what that man did to her? He stabbed her! And I don't even know what else he could have done. What kind of surgery are they even doing on her? Is it so bad that they couldn't even come up here and tell me? It's all just… exactly what he wanted."
"…What do you mean?" Josh finally asked, frowning in deeply emotional concern and leaning closer to hear the other teenager's quiet and quivering voice.
"I mean that he's gotten exactly what he wanted. Anita's probably dieing in there," with this, Josh began to argue, but Drake went on, "—Or even if she's not, she's still hurt. She'll always have that emotional scar, for the rest of her life. I just can't believe I let this happen…"
It took him a long pause of silence before he could say more, but when he did, it was meaningful and almost broken - hearted: "I seriously doubt I can ever be happy with out her. Even if she's fine… why would she want to be anything with the son of a man who might give her nightmares every night? Somehow he's managed to ruin my life even with out being married to my Mom."
Josh didn't know what to say. He knew that Anita would come out of surgery fine and eventually heal, but honestly, he had no idea what her attitude would be and what she would feel like about all of this.
"Drake, that's—that's just so stupid!" he finally exclaimed, becoming incensed with the very idea: "She wouldn't think that—she couldn't be like that! You're the best guy ever, and for her to be blinded by this so much that she couldn't see that—well, I just couldn't believe it."
"I know, Josh. But there's nothing you can do… don't get so upset over me." Drake whispered, looking away but still resting a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder: "…He knew that Anita meant the world to me, so he took her away. –Josh, he couldn't have hurt me worse than by doing that to her… unless it was you."
"You really mean that, Drake?" Josh asked, looking in to his face and frowning with sympathetic humility.
It was a slow silence that followed, before the slim boy finally responded with the most earnest of an answer that he could have given: "Yeah, bro—I don't think I could keep anything from falling apart if he had done that to you… you're the most important guy in my entire life. You know that, don't you?"
After a long moment, Josh began to speak in a voice filled with only gratitude: "I…I think I do, now. …Man, Drake—you're… the best brother ever. I wouldn't trade living with you in my life for anything."
"Hey, me neither, bro—no doubt." Drake nodded at last after a thoughtful quietness, supplying him with a cheerless yet still peaceful grin and a soft rub against his shoulder.
A few minutes went by with out either boy saying a word, letting the soft-hearted moment go by with only soporific quietness, until the silence was broken.
"Oh! Uh… Drake?" Josh began, after that moment of thinking about something.
The boy sitting quietly alongside, barely stirred enough to answer him with the half - effort - filled mumble, but eventually did: "…Mmm?"
"How uh… is your forehead where you cut it earlier? It was really kind of bad and I just remembered…" he asked, in reply, looking at his brother's face with kind worry.
"Oh—" Drake started, taking his hand and brushing his long, tousled bangs aside: "I really don't know… I'd pretty much almost forgotten about it myself."
"Does it still hurt?" the other teen ager's blue - green eyes blinked, as he watched his tired friend stroke the bandage.
"In a way, it does a little bit. …But let's just say—it doesn't hurts as bad as my ribs do." came the answer, affirmative to what Josh thought.
"I don't know why the doctor didn't check it, though—I mean it could have been pretty bad!" the raven headed teen seemed to become sort of angry at the fact that one of his brother's needs had not been met properly.
"Well, you really were right before about my hair covering the little bandage, Josh. With all the commotion over… Anita—and my ribs and everything, I'm sure he just didn't really see it. It's fine though. Really, I swear it doesn't hurt or sting bad at all."
"Are you sure?" he asked cautiously, still not feeling as if he had enough protection for the weak auburn – haired boy beside him.
"I'm positive. I'll—I'll be fine if I just rest and try to just relax for a little while." he added, with a reassuring nod.
"…Hey, there, you really must be tired. You poor guy! I mean, you haven't slept much at all since Mom and Dad left for the funeral. And with all of this, say, why don't you go ahead and lie down and try and sleep a little bit? I'll stay right here the whole time, I promise." Josh tried to bargain with him.
"Oh no—no, I really couldn't sleep. Not until Mom and Dad get here anyway."
"Aw, but Drake, it's only three in the after noon—they may not be here for several hours!"
Josh's arguments where all cut short by the steady, slow voice of Drake's gentle retort: "I know, Josh. I'll be alright. I just need to sit."
And so dragging the matter out no further, that's exactly what Josh let him do—try to sit, rest and relax as much as he possibly could.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The soft hum of the far away doctors and nurses busily running around and attending to lots of patients and things all at once was beginning to lull Drake in to a calm day - dream and he stared sleepily out of the window behind them, leaning his arms on the back of the chair and resting his chin on his fist.
The afternoon shadows where gently overlaying the lawn and parking lot, several floors below, outside, and the breeze blew through the yellowy - green California palm trees a long way off, across the wide highway in front of the hospital.
With a soft, short sigh, he blinked his eyes closed and tried to clear his mind of all the staggering, racing thoughts, but soon he opened them again, daring not to keep them closed long enough to fall asleep.
This day seemed not like any day Drake had ever lived in his whole life. The entire experience seemed nearly days long and it blew his mind to realize that it had all happened only today. He was so literally exhausted by all his emotional stresses that he had become almost feelinglessly numb, and only tried to keep from melting down.
He felt years older than he had the night before when he had fallen asleep, and having this feeling kind of scared him a little, but he supposed that it would be a good thing in the end. That's all he could do, to manage to hold on to whatever clinging sanity he had left.
He only could think over and over about how glad he was that he would never be like that man. That he couldn't ever allow himself to cause some one else such deep, traumatic pain as he had.
Josh was sitting nearby, restlessly flipping through a magazine he had found and trying to sort out his own jumble of mixed thoughts, in the back of his head.
He was angry. That anyone could do that to his own brother, that that man would dare to be so deadly heartless to his own flesh and blood, and hurt him so much for his entire life.
And he was sad. For both Anita and Drake. Seeing either of those two go through any pain hurt him a great deal. And at the unbearable thought that they might actually loose her… Josh didn't dare to think that way any more.
And besides being angry and sad—he was confused. Of course, until today he had known virtually nothing about Drake's past, nor about his real Dad. He didn't know much on either subject still, but from what he did know, he found a lot of questions and with every question, his mind spawned a new thought.
But most of all, Josh felt that his brother was a stronger person than he had ever expected. He always thought Drake led a charmed, perfect life, and in some ways it was true, but today he had learned that in other ways, it was drastically false.
Josh only knew that he admired him for being so strong, and that he was more thankful than ever that he was okay and sitting there beside him at this very moment.
"Hey bro," he finally spoke in a gentle voice, setting the magazine aside and brushing a strand of his soft amber hair back in to place with a optimistic smile: "Seriously, if you want to sleep, do it. I can wake you up whenever you want me to and it will be no problem."
"You're awesome to care so much about how I'm feeling, Josh. I will sleep, eventually. Just—not now. I think even if I tried to fall asleep now, no matter how tired I am, I wouldn't be able to." came the calm, slow answer from his brother's lips, causing Josh to nod his own answer.
"I—I know you're probably right. I just can't help but worry that you're not being taken care of well enough."
"Aw, come on, Josh, with you here, I can't 'help but' be taken care of." Drake returned, in earnest and then continuing: "Perhaps this drama will all end and be over with faster than we think."
"Sure it will. And hey, when Mom and Dad get here, it should all work out fine." Josh began, but hardly finishing his sentence before a knock at the door across the room made them look up.
Officer Becker stood there with two other men in tow, beside him. One was dressed in a police men's uniform and looked familiar to both boys, while the other was a new face and dressed in an all - black suit.
"Boys?"
"Yes, sir?" Josh replied, standing up and nodding the okay for the threesome to enter the room.
"Drake, Josh, I came back. This is Officer Keaton, if you don't remember him, --and this gentleman is an FBI friend of mine, Detective James Barlow." Becker spoke in a strangely darker voice, motioning to both figures beside him and making the boys stiffen in wonder.
"Pleased to meet you, Detective Barlow." Drake finally said, pulling himself together enough to stand and dipping his head in acknowledgement.
"Drake and I have talked to our Mom and Dad, Officer Becker. We didn't give them too much information because of Mom, but they are flying in instantly in a plane. It was about an hour or two since we spoke to them, so they should arrive very soon." Josh said, suddenly remembering it and letting out a sigh as he told.
"Very good, boys. I know that will be a great comfort to both of you, and a big help to us." The FBI agent replied, coming over to both teens and pulling up a chair for himself facing the brothers as did the other two men: "I'm afraid though, that something has come up and we must all have a long talk, alright?"
Drake's face suddenly lost it's color and the half - smile melted off of his face, and Josh began to speak for him, but he reached out a weak arm in front of him in apparent protest: "Not Anita."
"…No, actually. It has nothing to do with her. But it's still rather …upsetting." Becker said, at last.
The main look of dark fear slid mostly from the teen's handsome features and his deep brown eyes glittered in worried curiosity: "…What then?"
"Well, I know this may be a very painful subject for you to think about at the moment, but you have to be told." he returned after a moment.
"You see, an hour ago, your real father Joe Parker was incarcerated in the San Diego prison, but of course, he had his rights to one phone call." Keaton spoke, from aside the two FBI agents.
"…And?" Josh asked, wondering what strange thing they might be getting at, and pressing him on.
"Well, Drake, we had picked up your cell phone back at your house, off of the floor when we had been looking around for evidence and everything, and since I found it, I had handed to Jonathan—or Officer Becker, here." came Barlow's turn to speak.
"Yeah, it—it must have fallen out my pocket when I had started to… run." The boy responded, looking down and frowning, still in confusion: "But what has happened?"
Josh was thinking hard and suddenly he began to put two and two together.
"Well, actually, it's insane, but instead of placing a call to a lawyer or friend or anyone else, he called…"
Josh cut the officer off and answered for him: "Drake."
"…Yes. I didn't speak to him. He left a message to you on there, but I didn't feel it mine to listen to with out asking your opinion first." Becker replied, in slow explanation.
"Yes, Drake. We've all come to agreement that that would be completely up to you." Keaton nodded, looking him in the eye.
Sitting back deep in to his seat and letting out a heart - pounding sigh, the color drained again from Drake's already pale face and he whispered toward the sky: "Oh, dear God… I thought it was over."
"Drake, it's okay. You don't have to listen to that message, now. …And he can't get to you, any more. …Okay?"
Josh's comforting words came, and a hand resting softly on his arm made him know that atleast he wasn't going to have to do this all alone.
"I guess I need to hear it. It'll kind of be the… 'closer' to this thing." he finally sighed, closing his tired eyes and trying to gather his strength.
"…Are you sure?" Josh asked quietly, slipping from his own chair and kneeling in front of his brother's, to look him straight in the face, not quite caring anymore about the other people in the room.
It was a long time before he spoke at all; he simply stared in to the light - eyed boy face, with a glance full of thankful understanding and wordless gratitude. But at last, he sighed and nodded, placing a still shaky hand on his shoulder and speaking slowly, with a mostly cheer-less smile: "If you'll stay here with me, I'm absolutely sure."
Instead of replying back to Drake as he wanted to, Josh turned to Becker and remembering that time was very important said: "Look, if you could give us the cell phone, Drake will listen to it. …But we're going to need like a few minutes alone. Would that be okay, sir?"
Digging deep in to his coat pocket, Jonathan looked up and began to speak.
"Absolutely. Here it is—and please, take all the time you need, I know this is a delicate situation. We'll be outside—right down the hall, checking on Miss Prescott's current surgery report. Whenever you're ready, just come calling for me." he replied in an understanding voice, as Josh slowly drew the cell phone from his hand and nodded in grateful agreement.
With a knowing glance between them, the three men rose and turned to walk out of the large room, only pausing long enough for kind Officer Keaton to remind them: "Remember—we're only down the hall."
With that, all three were gone.
"Well, here it is. I guess this is kind of the last of it."
As Josh said this and sat down with the thin silver phone in his palm, before he could even say anymore, he was stopped by a quiet, weak voice and a shivering hand to his arm and looking up, he met the thankful, shimmering eyes of his brother, who was quietly tucked in to the small corner of the chair.
"…Josh—look, I don't want to sound dorky or stupid when I say this, but—just… thanks. You're really helping me, even if it means just sitting there beside me, or—or giving me a hug, or trying to fix my screwed up hair."
"Hey, Drake. Don't even say it—I mean… I don't want thanks, I just want you to okay." short but true and loving was the answer Josh gave him as he let out a long breath and looked down with a half - smile.
"Well… I think I'm ready to hear it." Drake sighed quite a long moment later, reaching out a little way to take the device from his brother's grasp.
"Okay. If you're sure, I guess you can go ahead."
It seemed as if Josh's words almost had time to echo back before Drake opened the phone and dialed to accept the message that had appeared on the screen—"1 New Voice Mail Message".
The phone was quiet a second before the automated operator voice spoke: "You have… one new voice mail message. To listen, press one."
With a last glance at Josh, and a reluctant finger, he finally pressed the key and heard the customary beep before the dread voice began.
And… at last it did.
"…Drake. I—I love you. I always will… I've just been through so much trauma and stress. I'm—I'm just afraid of being all alone. Drake… Please. …Help me."
"…N—nobody can ever help you." Drake heard his angry voice hiss through his teeth as the message came to an end and he snapped the phone shut, tossing it away from him and closing his burning eyes to lean against the window.
Josh grabbed the cell, being highly concerned about what had been said to Drake and quickly dialed again, to replay the message for himself.
The slow, "emotional" voice of the evil man drew fire in to Josh's rising heart and the last two falsely pleading words made his stomach lurch in to a deep feeling of sickness.
He waited a long moment after hearing it all, to let himself cool down and then letting out a sigh, he began and ended his short sentence: "Well, no matter what he says he thinks, Drake, I really do love you, and I'm not lying about it."
Before another moment went by, Drake leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Josh's neck, quite catching him by surprise, but bringing a thankful smile to rest on his lips as he hugged his weary counterpart.
"I love you too, brotha'." Drake's weak and still upset, but immensely sweet voice murmured, after a second.
Josh felt himself tighten his grip on his brother's trembling frame and he sighed again, leaning close to his ear and speaking in a soothing voice: "Look, I know I already told you, but I'm here for you Drake. And Mom and Dad will be here very soon. You know their going to take better care of you than I have."
"…Ah no, Josh. Nobody could take better care of me than you are." Came the firm argument, as the tawny - haired boy drew a large breath in to his tired lungs and sniffled back his impending tears, slowly setting himself back in to his own chair against the low wall.
"So, I'm just wondering. What exactly does that voice mail make you feel like?" was the cautiously interested question that Josh asked and looked in to Drake's direction as soon as he had had time to catch his breath.
"Agh… it makes me feel angry—" he began immediately, running a hand over his face and clutching his forehead as if trying to sort out the entangled mess scattered in his mind, through great concentration: "Angry for Anita. I—I mean, what kind of coward is he? He doesn't care about anyone, no matter what he wants us to think."
He paused for a second and tossed his bangs back, standing up and pacing the floor in fury: "And you heard him! He's been 'through trauma'?-! We see who the focus is really on, don't we? Even you see it! Now you can even see how he really is!"
"I've known how he is. I couldn't exactly watch him hunt down my own brother with out realizing what a sick, demented person he is." Josh replied, looking aside and shaking his head in disgust.
"Oh, yeah, but you just wait and see what kind of brain – twisting stuff he comes up with in court! That will be interesting." Drake's voice was full of tired apathy for that horrible man, and yet worry at the same time as he gripped his forehead again: "Oh, no…"
"What?" Josh quipped, looking up.
"…Just thinking about court… and Anita, and—just everything, I guess. Gosh—" he continued, sitting back down: "I'm so worried about her."
"I know you are. You look like it."
"I am." With a sad sigh, he shook his head and whispered: "…This is the craziest day in my entire life."
Josh sighed too, and wondered silently about what could possibly happen next.
"I guess we have to call the police back in here, now. But man, I can hardly stand it all. Hopefully they won't ask too much of me."
"They should understand, so hopefully they won't. I'm going to get them, though, okay? I'll be right back." Josh finally said, rising from his seat and quickly leaving the room.
