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 fall to my knees, screamin' Nickelodeon, please--let me own Drake and Josh... but they won't.

Note to Readers:

Oh. My. GOODNESS! This is the last chapter. I can't believe I'm typing that! I'm sad about finishing it, but I'm happy because I already have a killer idea for a new comedy Drake and Josh fan fiction story! Wow. So, I guess I want to thank all the people who have left me reviews and read my story! It makes me feel so good when I know I have readers out there who enjoy my stuff. And of course, I want to thank Drake and Josh! Ha-ha, I love those guys. THANKS YOU EVERYBODY! You rock! Somebody needs to come up with a way to type the "rockin" hand signal... I hope you liked my story very much, thanks for reading.

Story: "Party in a Box"

Chapter: "In the End"; Thirty - Four

Written By: Morgan (aka Ginger)

Extras:
Italics in "quotation marks" symbolize thoughts of Drake's.

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Drake tugged on the black-colored door's handle and waited for Josh to unlock it for him. Once the car was open, both of them got hurriedly inside and locked it back... the mostly dark parking garage at almost three in the morning wasn't the best place in the world and the boys were very glad for the safety of their parent's car.

Walter had originally parked it in the regular parking lot, but after nightfall, had given one of the younger police officers the keys so he could move it to the parking garage. The only trouble was, the officer hadn't made any note of what level he had parked it on and so Josh and his brother had had to search for it for at least fifteen minutes before discovering it on the third level from the top.

As Drake sat back against the seat, he breathed in deeply and caught the piney scent that the car had always possessed. Though at times, the odor got a little annoying, at this moment it actually calmed him considerably. Or if not the scent itself, just being able to experience something familiar--not so foreign and odd as the things he had endured today.

Josh closed his eyes as well and leaned back for a moment, thinking himself that the aroma was soothing. After sighing, he leaned forward to turn the keys and crank it up.

Soon he and his step brother were buckled in and starting down the long, winding trail leading out of the building.

Drake wasn't usually claustrophobic, but for some reason the dim light and the low-slung roofs in this place were making him almost sick, and he shuddered, snapping his eyes closed.

Josh was actually for the most part, the more claustrophobic of the two, but (as odd situations tend to do) now roles seemed to be reversed and it was barely bothering him.

"Ya' alright?" he asked his counterpart, after noticing his behavior from the corner of his own eye.

"Yeah, fine. Just feelin' a little closed in. I'll be fine." came his quick reply, as he kept his eyes shut fast.

"We only have like four floors to go and then we'll be out a' here. But... I do wish they would make the ceilings just a little higher."

The two boys did manage to make it out of the building pretty quickly, if by some mercy for Drake's sake, and they began to ride quietly down the road leading out to the San Diego interstate, thankfully leaving St. Schneider's hospital behind.

Josh expected that the hum of the motor and the gentle vibration of the car might just put his weak brother to sleep, and when he didn't make a single sound for ten minutes in the dark, he assumed he must have been correct.

But when a soft voice spoke, he realized he was wrong.

"Hey, Josh?"

"What is it, bro?" Josh replied (still a little surprised that he was awake) looking over and watching the street lights palely illuminate his face, for a moment.

"…My head hurts." he spoke, slowly swallowing and laying his temple against the car window.

"Is it your cut from the stairs?" Josh asked quickly, as a flash of concern drew across his face and he went on: "Because if it it's bothering you, I can just pull over at the next Zippy Mart and get something to put on it."

"No, no," he answered, letting out the closest thing to a chuckle that he could muster, "Not psychically--I mean, not really. I just feel like... in a little while, the impact of all this is going to hit me, and I'm going to totally break down."

Josh glanced at him again, expecting to see a feeble and nearly-in-tears form of his brother, but instead met the gaze of clear, composed chocolate brown eyes. Leaving that horrible hospital had obviously improved his state somewhat in the last ten minutes, (or atleast postponed his breakdown), but Josh was saddened to see that the glitter was still absent from his expression.

"I'm sure you're not going to be as bad off as you think you are. ...And anyway," he took on hand from the steering wheel and reached over to pat his shoulder: "If you ever had a 'breakdown', I'd be right there to pick up the pieces."

Drake let a smile peek from the corner of his mouth and he slowly shook his head: "How do you do that?"

"Whadda'ya mean?"

"I mean, 'How do you do that?'. ...How are you always ready to help me? What possesses you to be so sweet and supportive?" he answered, in a plain tone and with a faded grin.

Josh smiled and stared at the road ahead, feeling a flattered and slightly embarrassed blush rise in his cheeks, and he answered in a modest voice.

"I dunno. I guess I just like to help you 'cause... well I don't know! Just 'cause your cool, and you've been badly treated, and--well, I guess it's just a brother thing. I like it."

All was quiet in warm sentiment for a little bit, but then Drake managed to drop enough of his depression to smile, and he reached quickly over to muss his brother's thick black hair: "I love ya', Josh."

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The dark eyed boy had slipped in to a state so close to sleep by the time that they reached the entrance to their neighborhood, that Josh's voice sounded far off when he said: "Well, looks like we're home."

He sat up straight and felt a sigh escape him as he looked around, watching the trees blur past as they turned in to their street.

They slowed to maybe ten miles an hour and both seemed to hold their breath as the sight of their home appeared before them.

The front yard was completely bathed in the black of night, and only by the bit of moonlight that was shimmering down, was Josh able to pull squarely in to the drive with out running off in to the yard.

Not one light in the whole house was on, and because the garage door was closed and locked, Josh had to stop in the driveway and park the vehicle there.

"Wow... we're home. Finally back home." Drake murmured, and the boys must have just sat in the car for an entire minute before Josh replied:

"We had better go inside and try to turn on a few lights. It's so dark."

With that said, both reached to push their doors open and get out.

A cool, sixty-degree September breeze rushed upon them the instant they stood up, and chilled them, because neither had a jacket on at the time.

Josh locked both car doors (how he did, one must wonder because it was almost too dark to see your own legs below you), and started to step around the automobile.

Suddenly, a yelp of "Ah!" and a sudden, heavy crunch of autumn leaves made him stop and he quickly exclaimed in to the night: "Drake?"

"Oww..." came the voice not far from him: "I tripped and fell."

Josh whipped his cell phone from his pocket and opened it, using the light of the screen to see by.

He looked down and saw where the edge of the driveway ended and there, in the grass beside it was a thick, deep furrow where a heavy car's tire had sunk in. Not far away, Drake was sitting up on his elbows and trying to shake the dust from himself.

"Oh! Man, are you okay? Did you hurt anything?" Josh gasped, hurrying over to him (avoiding the ditch) and dropping to his knees to help him up.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm alright--just a bruise on my arm, I think."

His brother laced an arm around him and brought him to his feet, then brushing him off a little and linking arms with him, to ensure no more nasty falls as they made their way back to the drive and up toward the porch.

Drake had kicked several bits of ripped out notebook paper and trash as he walked with Josh, and he was very glad that the reporters who had caused such garbage had left long ago.

The two teenagers mounted the couple steps together and Josh pulled the right key to the dead bolt lock. The glass on the front entry was still broken, but heavy plywood boards were nailed behind the shards, to prevent the wind from blowing through, in to the house.

As Drake surveyed the smashed glass, memories of what had taken place here earlier filled his head and his mood switched in to quiet and even disheartened.

Josh fished the key out of the lock and reached down to swing the door open wide, loosing his brother's arm from his and walking in first.

Drake was in the dark for a moment, because Josh had gone further in to the living room to turn on a light, but he felt his way past the open door and stepped inside.

A lamp across the room came on and flooded the entire space with a yellow glow. The brother's eyes had to have a moment to adjust, but after that, it was much better than being in the dark.

Drake glanced around the room, now able to see what a mess had been made in the previous struggle.

It made him sick to have to look at, but somehow he couldn't help it--things had happened so fast before that he hadn't had time to see his surroundings, and now it was just too interesting.

Books lay scattered on the floor at the far end of the room where the bookshelf sat empty; nick-knacks and baskets had been flung from their places on tables and counters. One tiny lamp had been thrown to the ground in the dining room and a chair at the table was teetering precariously against the wall. Had the wall not been there, it would most definitely have fallen all the way.

Of course, the police had not left everything as it had been.

The couch had most obviously been professionally cleaned by a furniture expert (who Becker had been responsible for hiring) and was rid of any blood stains that had been there when the boys saw it last. Though they thought it wouldn't feel right for a while to sit there, they were still very glad it had been washed.

Josh had been moving about the room, and suddenly he called his brother out from his daze, in a quizzical and slightly odd voice: "Drake? L--look at this! Come look..."

The boy co-operated and walked several feet to where the other teenager stood, by the dining room wall.

"What?"

"You're not going to believe what I found--look at the wall." he answered, shaking his head in disbelief, as Drake turned his attention to it.

At first glance, he thought what he saw to only be a light smudge of dirt against the greyish paint, but when he looked closer, he found himself as dumbfounded as Josh.

"It's... it's a blood-print!"

"Yeah, it is! Look-- it's not a hand-print, there aren't any lines from the palm on it." his friend said, glancing at him.

"No, it's not a hand print... it was a print from my side."

Josh looked up in confusion and let out a "Huh?" before Drake explained.

He turned and stood with his back against the spot and said: "He had me penned like this, after he had dented my side. My shirt must have slipped up a little and the cut slid against the wall."

The darker haired boy's brows now knit together and a storm appeared in his eyes: "Wait, you didn't tell me you had a cut there."

Drake shook his head, stepping back in to the room and laying a finger against the side of his ribs: "I didn't want to bother you with it. It's just a little one, right here. ...It isn't much."

"Look, when we get settled, let me look at it--it's not good to let those things go un-treated."

He walked back to where Drake was and switched on the normal lights, then turning to him and sighing.

"How do you feel now, anyway?"

Drake broke another one of his stares at the room and glanced up, with saddish eyes.

"...A little sick."

The blue-eyed boy's heart ached for him and he rested his arm carefully over his shoulder, looking straight across in to his sensitive face.

"Why don't you come on upstairs? We'll turn on some lights, you can change from those clothes in to something comfortable and I think I'll throw together a couple cans of soup for us before we rest. Sound cool?"

"Yeah, that sounds great. ...Thanks Josh." Drake finally said, breathing a deep breath and producing a weak smile.

Josh dimpled a warm nod back to him in return and dropped his arm to walk with him in to the hall.

Turning lights on as they went, they proceeded slowly up the stairs.

Drake's tired mind seemed never to run short of flashing memories of the earlier battle, in each place in the house that they went. He found himself remembering how terrified he was when he ran up and down these same steps that morning, and with each vision his heart leapt in thought.

They came in to the upper hall and once again flicked on a lamp, finding themselves at the doorway to their bedroom.

It was strangely peaceful in the room when they entered and the yellow-gold light of their lamps filled the space. Drake could not rid the recollections of hiding in their wardrobe closet from his mind, but somehow being back in the room he shared with his brother made him feel cozy and almost better.

With the thought of being in the closet, Drake strode to it and opened it to take out the loafer shoes he had taken off while inside.

Josh leaned down to pick up a pile of papers, binders and notebooks that the man had tossed off of their desk angrily, and set them back in place.

"Ah. It looks like there'll be a lott'a cleaning up to do." he said, but after catching the brunette's worried glance, he continued, walking to him: "But there will be plenty of time to do that all later. ...Look, I'm going to go downstairs and call Mom and Dad and let them know we're home. I'll be back in a few minutes. Will you be okay?"

Drake nodded forlornly and managed to climb up his bed's ladder as Josh left.

He set himself down on the mattress and untied his shoes, slipping them off as a growing feeling of sadness came over him.

He sat thinking for a long time, and thought about changing in to some pajamas, but only gave up the idea.

How could he do such normal things when he was so messed up? He felt like he would burst with emotion, but yet he couldn't even bring himself to cry. His heart ached so badly that the sensation literally ran down his arms and he sat back against the wall, staring at the comforter blanket.

He was tired. Why couldn't he sleep? He didn't want to sleep... but he didn't want to be awake, either.

He was in what may have been one of the deepest kinds of hopelessness that he had ever experienced.

He reached up and flipped off the overhead light, by the switch next to his bed, and let the lamps give all the light. He felt really sad, and right then, too much light only made it worse.

"Ohh-kay," Josh came back through the door a few moments later: "I talked to them and told them we got home. They told me to tell you that they love you very much."

His voice was more serious and he said: "Anita's parents finally arrived. They were very, very upset but glad she was not hurt worse."

Drake whimpered: "Did... did they say anything about me? Are they... mad?"

"I don't know. I'm sure their not mad."

Everything was very, very quiet in the room and finally Drake murmured in a despairing and low voice, almost to himself: "...Oh, poor Anita."

He lifted his eyes to Josh who was now by the ladder of his loft bed and tightened his throat to choke back his feelings.

"Josh, what do I do? ...She--she really hates me."

Those words were so sad and lonely that Josh couldn't help but scramble up the rungs to sit beside him and touch his arm in warm care: "No she doesn't... she's as sad as you are."

"Because I... I made her that way."

The tears were gathering in his eyes now and he wanted them to stop, but they wouldn't.

"You're such a wimp. No regular boy cries. You're so stupid."

"I'm so stupid... I hate myself. I can't believe how horrible I have been to--to you and Mom and Dad lately, and... and especially her."

He hadn't even really realized he had spoken what he was thinking, and he continued to speak his mind.

"She has perfect reason to never want to see me again. I'm the son of a terrible man who lives to hurt people. I'm his son, and I caused the pain she's having to endure now. I don't want him and I don't want to hurt anybody like he's hurt me, because I know how deep it can cut you. ...But I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry..."

Drake shook his head again and looked away, trying to stop his watery eyes as he finished in a detested voice:

"And now... now I'm so pathetic that I'm crying..."

He let out a disgusted, cheerless laugh at himself and buried his head in his arms, as he drew his legs up in front of himself.

He was quiet for so long that it was beginning to cause worry.

But then finally, to Josh's relief, his shoulders began to shake and his deep breaths told his brother he was sobbing.

Josh wanted to scream a thousand things to him at once: how he wasn't pathetic or stupid; how it wasn't his fault; or how he loved him and would never imagine anyone good, hating him.

But not one of those sentences would have done well to stand on it's own, and he simply couldn't preach to him now... so he just moved as close as he could and wrapped his arm around him, smoothing his messy hair carefully and saying nothing at all.

"Oh... Josh..." the scratchy, muffled, tired words came, moments later: "Do you understand me at all? No one else does. Do you get what's going on?"

Josh sighed a long sigh and whispered softly to him: "Absolutely. ...Isn't that what brothers always do--understand?"

With a pause, Drake slowly drew his tear-streaked face from his arms and looked at his closest friend's face, amazed at his selfless nature and undying, steady encouragement for him. It seemed to always be welling inside of him, and he was always giving all he had.

The brown eyed boy's voice steadied and he gathered his brows together in bewilderment.

"...You are the most incredible person I know. I heard you say you wanted to be like me, when you were talking to Grammy on the phone." a tear trickled down his cheek: "But... no. Don't be me. Josh, you be who you are, because who you are is considerate and wonderful. I want to be like you."

His bluish eyes filled with his own tears and he reached forward to hug his brother, not feeling he should ever let go of such a sweet boy.

Both cried some, seeming to completely forget the notion of being "pathetic" and when Drake seemed too drained to bother holding in his feelings, he sat back and let himself cry, occasionally wiping his face off with a dry sleeve.

...And when he ran out of sleeve, Josh tried to use his own (unsuccessfully), until he had the idea to grab the tissue box from the floor.

Drake released a worn-out chuckle at Josh's offer of his sleeves as he tried to duck away from his brother, he sniffed back more tears.

To say the least, the next hour or two were filled to the brim with tears, tissues, hugs and serious conversations.

It was obvious Drake was convinced he would always be plagued with a suffering heart, and though Josh did his best to persuade him otherwise, he couldn't do much to ease the pain of the situation.

For sure, the auburn haired teen age boy's heart was slowly being broken... and it hurt Josh almost equally as bad to watch it happen.

"All because of him... It is all Joe Parker's fault. How can one man cause so much abuse? It's only evil. Nothing beside. How can he bear living with himself for one more moment? How can he let himself live on this earth after everything he's done to innocent people?"

Josh's thoughts seemed to echo through them both then, and they wondered what they would do next. What was next? Nothing? Was the future empty, holding only school-paper interviews and questions of what had happened?

How could they even start to explain? The paper-readers and gossipers only wanted to know about a murder... not about the most important lesson that had been taught. The two boys couldn't put in to words the kind of evil they had discovered, but how much they thought others should learn it.

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Drake sat against his pillows and looked very, very weak, but yet insomnia seemed to have found him.

Four forty five came around and still he was awake. He cried a few tears on and off, but for the most part he was too despondent and drained to cry anymore.

"Josh?" he asked, in an almost completely faded voice, after a long silence.

"Hmm?" he murmured, beginning to feel very sleepy himself.

A dark, deep voice spoke.

"Have you ever been so depressed that you didn't want to be able to feel anymore? Like you don't want to do anything--stay awake or sleep, or anything?"

"Not for a long time. ...Is that how you feel, Drake?" Josh laid a hand on his wrist and frowned.

"...Yes." he replied, at last, with a look sadder than any tears had been: "I think so. ...And I don't know if I'll ever want to even live again."

Josh's heart throbbed and he moved up to the head of the bed, to sit beside him again.

"You have to 'live'. You can't just give up on everything..."

"Why? ...I'll never be happy. He took her away to give me a final blow, and it worked. ...He won."

Now Josh's blue eyes were full of worried indignance: "No! No he hasn't! You don't even know what you're saying. He--he--he's horrible and heartless and full of evil, Drake, and he can't win over you."

"Then why am I so empty? Why is my heart so broken? Why does my girlfriend hate me? ...Why don't I want to go on?" he spoke, sinking in to the pillow behind him and a look of pain creeping over his brow.

Josh wanted to cry and find a way to make him fixed, very much, but before he could even try to come up with the words, the cell phone on the blanket next to the two distraught boys rang.

Horrible "what-ifs" rushed in to their heads and Josh snatched it up putting it on speaker phone, saying a "Hello?" before he could think about clearing his tearful tone.

Something has happened to Anita...

They both were supposing the exact same thing, and it scared them very badly.

"Josh? This is Doctor Thorton."

A groan of anxiety escaped Drake when he heard the name: "What is it? What went wrong, Doctor Thorton?"

"Drake? I'm very glad your there. I thought--"

"Please, sir, why have you called? Is something wrong with our friend?" Josh exclaimed, too afraid to wait for an explanation.

"No. But she is why I have called. I didn't think either of you would still be awake at this hour, but she wanted me to try anyway." the doctor said, calming most fears.

"What do you mean 'she wanted you to try'? Try what?" Drake's heart was racing ahead now and he felt a little like he couldn't get a breath.

"Miss Prescott has put in a special request to speak with you over the telephone, Mister Parker. She fears you have misunderstood something... but I'll let her tell you. She is very tired, so she can't talk long."

The physician's unbelievable words sunk in and Drake sat up straight, demanding: "Talk? ...Talk--to me?"

"Yes. Now here she is, I'll let her on now."

The brothers exchanged astonished glances and Drake moved to lean over Josh's shoulder: "...Hello?"

"Drake." her lovely voice (though coarse and weak in it's nature) came to his ears.

"Anita... hello! You--You're okay?"

"I needed to talk... I know you're tired. I'm sorry." her sentences were very short, but none the less entrancing to him.

"I'm not tired--not now. ...Please say what ever you want to, I'll listen." the shoulder he had pressed up against Josh's back began to quiver and Josh felt afraid for him.

"I'm very weak, so I'm gonn'a say it quick as I can." with that, she paused and finally went on.

"I'm sorry for throwing you out earlier. I was out of my head with medicine, and I was afraid of thinking about... everything. You..."

A long pause followed: "You didn't say anything wrong, and I don't hate you."

The words rang in his head and his heart leapt in unbelief.

I don't hate you...

"How--how did you--why did you think that I--?"

He stuttered, unable to make a sentence.

"You mother talked to me." came the simple words, telling him everything.

"Drake, this wasn't your fault."

Drake seemed to melt in to a strength-less slab of butter against his brother's supporting back.

"I love you very much. I'm too tired to say more. I'll talk to you again tomorrow... I'll talk to you very soon. Think of me."

"I... will."

"Goodbye."

Josh hung up the phone a minute later, (after talking thankfully with Doctor Thorton), and was surprised to turn and find his brother weeping again, quietly.

"Woah, Woah... what's this?" he gathered his shaking hand up in his own and shoved the almost-empty tissue box toward him.

After trying to dry his eyes, Drake turned his face to him and sighed a choppy sigh, holding back a shivery chuckle.

"I'm sorry. I--I know I'm wimpy, but I can't help it. I've had so much shock and ...I'm just too glad."

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The dark room began to fade in to a hue of blue, much like the moonlight but somehow very different. Black shadows slowly melted away, leaving the place bathed in a pale light. The entire house was quiet other than the occasional chirp of a group of crickets somewhere close by outside. It was this odd grey color all around for thirty minutes before the far-off hum of motors on the roads began and suddenly the colors began to change.

Saffron and red-orange mixed in to the blue and a soft, golden-pink ray of sunlight fell in a shaft from the window over the pale face of the figure laying gently on his back on the high loft-bed.

His cheeks were streaked in dry tears and by the way he was spread out, it was apparent he had fallen asleep suddenly, with out the strength to scoot under the covers.

A pile of tissues lay beside the bed, along with a book and a cell phone, and his arm was draped over the edge of the mattress, his hand lying limply on the floor near these items.

The little sun ray grew steadily brighter until at last, the boy's long, dark eyelashes flickered open.

Disoriented at first, he stared at the ceiling with burning eyes and suddenly it all came rushing back to his mind.

A song-bird in the distance seemed to wake as well, and within a moment it struck up the morning's very first song.

The teenager sat up against the mountain of pillows behind him (so the sun would leave his eyes) and let a deep, clear breath of air enter his lungs as the pain in his muscles appeared from nowhere.

He sent up a thankful prayer as his vision cleared completely and his gaze found his brother. He was lying across his own bed perhaps a distance of ten feet away and he was asleep. Strangely he wasn't wrapped in any covers himself, and Drake suddenly realized that Josh must have watched him until he had fallen to sleep, the night before and only then fallen asleep himself.

The digital clock within view read 7:36am, and Drake figured they had slept for about two hours. He felt like he had been sleeping for more like five or six hours, and was amazed at the actual time. ...But maybe that was only because he had been so tired before that any sleep felt great.

He laid thinking for a long, long time about some things. Then let out a groan and slowly sat up, feeling the full extent of his soreness as he began to climb gingerly down the cold, metal-piping ladder.

It must have only been sixty-five degrees in the house and the wood floor made his bare feet tingle. He shivered and pulled the long sleeves of his shirt down to his finger-tips as he walked across the now sunlit room, reminding himself to find some socks to put on soon.

A sigh escaped him and he reached Josh's bed, standing for a long minute just to look at him and think.

"You're a good guy, Josh. You've been there the whole time, even if it meant neglecting yourself..."

Drake felt a smile span his lips and he shook his head, reaching down to pull a blanket over him.

"You don't want to freeze, do you?" he hadn't meant for the words to come out aloud, but they had and there was no going back to silence them now.

All of the sudden, his blue eyes opened and seeing Drake he sat up, rubbing the sleep from them and asking in a concerned voice: "...What is it, Drake? Are you okay? Do you need me to get you anything?"

"Nah. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"No problem, it's fine."

It was quiet a moment and he went on: "Is it morning? I feel like I've been asleep for years... I think I had nightmares the whole time though." Josh said, with a yawn.

"I'm right there with you on the nightmare thing. It's only about seven-forty. You can sleep some more, I'll be fine just sitting by myself."

"Ahh nah, I'll just get up, even if just for a little while. I'm not very tired and the sunlight looks so cozy." but Josh suddenly frowned and shuddered, saying: "Woah... it's pretty chilly in here, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I know, but it's just 'cause the heat is turned off. I don't know, though. I kind'a like the cold-- it makes me feel like I can get a really good, kind'a' frosty breath." Drake replied, yawning himself, and sitting down on the edge of his brother's bed with a smile. "Then frosty it is!" exclaimed Josh, crossing his arms and then letting his brows furrow in glad confusion: "But, hey... what's gotten in to you? Look at yourself. You're actually smiling, you know!"

"I guess the sleep helped and..."

"And a phone call from a certain someone, last night, maybe?" Josh watched his step brother blush and then say: "Maybe that too."

Josh looked very contented and sat with his hands in his lap, finally looking up.

"Hey, why don't I go down and make those two mugs of soup I was talkin' about last night? I don't know about you, but I'm a little hungry."

"Starved!" Drake agreed, raising his eyebrows and standing with Josh.

"Oww... I didn't know my muscles would ache so much." he groaned as he almost tumbled from bed and turned to his friend.

"I know--it just hits you all of the sudden, before you even know you hurt." the amber haired boy shook his head.

"Well... ouch." the other spoke in a whine, leaning and grabbing his knees before finally straightening and hurrying down stairs to complete his mission.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Josh re-appeared through the door way within another ten minutes (two medium sized cups of liquid in hand) and found Drake sitting atop his bed, with his cell phone held to his ear and a very serious look on his face.

At first, the dark haired boy was worried something had happened at the hospital, but those fears mostly went away when he heard Drake's calm voice:

"Mrs. Prescott, whatever you think of me, I want you to know that I am more than sorry for what happened... and if I could have taken her place, I would."

Josh's face softened in understanding and he walked slowly over to the bed, all the while silently praying for her mother to have mercy on this innocent boy.

The voice came back clearly enough that both boys could hear it, and the weepy voice of the adult woman spoke kindly.

"Oh, Drake, Mister Prescott and I could never blame you for this. We are pained for our daughter, and we were very upset upon getting such horrible news. But... but our Anita will grow better every passing day. She will heal, and so will our hearts. As people living on this earth, bad things are going to happen, but lessons can be learned after it's all over with. So I thank you, for doing all you could for her and being so kind and humble through this."

Drake was apparently more thankful and relieved than he had been last night with the last call, and he sighed: "I--I don't know what to say, Mrs. Prescott. You are much too kind to me, and--I don't want to sound stupid, but I think I'm gonn'a cry."

"Don't do that, Drake. I want you to know that you have our forgiveness even though you have done nothing wrong. ...But most importantly, I want you to get something straight in your head."

"What is that?" he choked back his emotions, hearing the solemn tone in these words.

"You must remember that you had no control over this, and that you are not one percent responsible for our daughter's situation. You're a good boy, Drake, and we thank you again."

Drake took the woman's words very carefully in to his mind and shook his head:

"No, thank you. You have made me more happy than I can say."

Josh set the soup on the ledge of the bed and climbed up as Drake and Mrs. Prescott said goodbye.

And after Drake had snapped his cell phone shut, Josh smiled and said: "You are a good boy. ...And she's right."

Drake looked up, blinking back the threatening sobs and finally after succeeding, he smiled and laughed: "This day is crazy."

A few minutes later after the two talked a little about the conversation on the phone and Drake explained that their mother had given Anita's mom his cell phone number so she could call and talk to him; Josh leaned down picking the mugs of soup up again and handing one of them to his brother, along with a spoon.

Sometimes when emotions are running high, it helps to have simple distractions.

"Oh wow, thanks, Josh. This smells delicious." Drake spoke, in a voice just over a hungry mumble, taking it and nodding an appreciative nod.

Josh was glad he didn't cry as he had last night, and answered cheerfully:

"Just good ol' chicken n' stars. ...A pretty weird little breakfast, but hey, it's a special day and I think that calls for weirdness."

And neither of them cared that it was soup for breakfast, because it was any kind of food and the ache in their stomachs was gone by the time they finished.

The sun was just now all the way up, but the pink and orange clouds hadn't faded out completely yet, and the two boys set down their soup-bowls to look out at the window.

"How pretty it is out there... seriously." Josh sighed, just as the two slipped in to peace for the first time in weeks.

Quiet took over, apart from the growing song of early birds outside.

Drake and Josh were left to their own thoughts and actually didn't speak at all for probably almost ten minutes.

Drake was going over the whole longer ordeal in his mind and yet he saw how it all worked out well in the end. The thoughts he had of having to see Joe Parker again in court, and having to testify in front of so many scary people made him depressed and even a little sick, but he had to stop again and again to remind himself that he wouldn't have to do it alone. His Mom and Dad and especially Josh would be there to support him. ...And now even Anita and her parents were on his side.

At last, Drake sighed (for the thousandth time it seemed) and whispered: "It is alright... I didn't think it would ever be possible."

"Tell me what you mean."

"A lot of things. But mostly... it's not the end of the world. I'm so happy Anita's getting better and she doesn't hate me, her parents don't hate me and... Dad isn't going to be able to hurt anyone anymore. It's almost too much happiness to handle." Drake spoke, looking dreamily up at the clouds and leaning over to rest his arms on his knees.

"It's about time some happiness came your way, though, Drake, because you've had it rough for a long time. It's just time for you to feel okay again."

Drake turned his face to Josh and the difference the raven haired teen saw there was amazing.

His countenance was no longer white and sick-looking but alive and rosy. His most handsome smile was displayed on his lips and his posture no longer drooped.

But then Josh felt a thrill of joy pulse through himself...

His deep brown eyes held such a pretty twinkle that anyone would have noticed it, but to Josh who had missed that twinkle for days, it was like life had been restored to those dead eyes.

"You're the best, Josh. I know I said thanks before, but now I really mean it." the soft blue-grey light of a slightly storm-filled sky came through the window and made his face glow: "I can't think of where I'd be right now if you hadn't been there for me when you were. ...I know there will still be trials in court and I'll have to testify, but I can get through it as long as you're there."

"...Thanks Drake." a deep blush colored his own complexion and a peaceful roll of thunder was released in the distance: "But you know that I'm not the only one who has been brave lately. I mean… you fought him all by yourself. You must have been pretty scared."

"I was. But I had to—I couldn't just give up and let him get to you out there."

"Wait, that's why you did that?"

Drake flushed at his brother's discovery and looked down: "Um well, yeah… I guess at the time I just—"

Josh interrupted him by shaking his head and stopping his words with his own. "Apparently this whole little brother-thing has worked better than we thought it would, 'cause we seem to be ready to do just about any for each other."

Both were still for a minute, wondering if the other would move and finally with the release of a glad chuckle (perhaps if only to keep from crying), they both darted forward at the same time to grab him in a hug.

Gentle rain began to tap at the window and the storm-light flooded the room as Josh hugged his brother in his arms and he spoke in a quiet voice: "It's not over, but you've started to get better already. I always told you that you would make it."

"I didn't make it alone. ...I love ya, brother."

"I love you too, man."

"…But there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother."