A look at the clock confirmed the hands hadn't moved even two minutes forward. Drake sighed inwardly, desperately trying not to roll his eyes. He felt like this meeting had been endless. His manager droned on and on, but Drake didn't have a clue what the subject even was. He could only think about hitting the beach on this ninety degree day. He wanted to feel the cool of the ocean against his skin, maybe meet a hot girl in an even hotter bikini… Drake's daydreams took over, swallowing what little bit of focus he had left. His gaze fell to the window as he watched a butterfly lazily swirl over traffic. His brown eyes followed it down, over the street, to the people at the café across from him. It rode the breeze, settling just past a hobo devouring a cinnamon roll with both hands.

It was the hobo that held Drake's attention.

"Well! I think we have made very good progress today – or something- yeah. Bye." Drake shot out of the room without bothering to leave an explanation. He broke into a run, skipping down the stairs two at a time. Elevators were much too slow. Drake had places to be. He nearly crashed into an older woman as she arrived as he was exiting. He could swear he heard a very faint, "I hate you, Drake Parker!" as he bolted across the street.

The woman's voice was lost in the sounds of traffic. Honking horns roared with alarm as Drake carelessly forded his way through traffic, waltzing between cars as if he was indestructible. He scanned the café's crowd for his target, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw he still had time.

The cinnamon bun was about three quarters of the way gone when the hobo twitched. His hands tightened on the baked good as a shadow fell over him. Nervous eyes looked up from his meal, his lips parted wordlessly.

Drake placed a hand on his father's shoulders, making sure he couldn't run. "Walter," he breathed, his chest heaving. The dash across the road had taken a toll on him. "It's me. It's Drake."

The cinnamon bun splattered across the ground as Walter took off running.

X

Drake's shoes beat the pavement as he pursued Walter. He dodged a massive truck following the sight of Walter's poncho across street after street. Sweat broke out across his skin. His lungs burned with effort as he forced himself to keep up. Living on the street had made Walter tough. Drake's gym time hadn't done as much for himself. He groaned in frustration and kept moving. Walter ducked down an alleyway. Drake followed him, praying it was a dead end.

His prayers were answered. Walter came to a stop, staring at the wall that rose up in front of him. Drake nearly slammed into him. He skidded to a stop, raising his hands to surrender. "Okay! Okay. I'm done. Walter, it's me. You've got to recognize me."

"Of course I do." Walter replied, his voice startlingly sane for a man who had been acting with such lunacy. "Drake. It's so good to see you!"

Drake took a sidestep as Walter moved in for a hug. "I'll hug you later." He promised. "Right now… you need a shower. You smell like a trashcan."

"I've been sleeping in one, so…"

"…Oh, Walter."

X

Walter hadn't wanted to return home with Drake, not at first. It had taken a large amount of convincing, but finally Drake got Walter to agree to return home to his apartment. They'd sort out the rest later. Drake rested on the couch, plucking his guitar while Walter got cleaned up. His step-dad's terrible singing made him grimace, but he honestly didn't mind too much. He was just glad his father was okay.

A call to his mother put her mind at ease, and one to Josh eased his as well. Audrey promised to let Megan know, and Drake considered his job was done. He sat back against the arm of the couch, relishing the moment. He couldn't have been more relieved.

He ran through Bitchcraft just once, loving the beat that new song carried. He couldn't wait to perform it in front of a crowd and see their reaction live. As he played, he noticed the room had grown steadily more quiet…

"Hey. You all right?" Drake knocked on the bathroom door, but got no response. "Walter."

The shower was running, but Drake got no reply from Walter. He gritted his teeth, and placed a hand over his eyes. "I'm coming in."

Drake was greeted by an empty, steaming bathroom, void of Walter.

"Are you freaking kidding me!"

X

Drake caught Walter just one street over. Thankfully, the man had the good sense to grab his clothes before jumping out of the window and climbing down to the street. Drake pulled his mustang over, yanking Walter in. "Stay here." He growled, locking the doors. "You wanna run? At least tell me why. I want to know exactly why you've put mom, me, Josh, and Megan through all of this crap over the past few months. Now."

Silence was the only response he got. Walter stared out of the window, a forlorn look on his features.

"Hey!" Drake hissed. "Why are you like this? What happened to you?"

Walter turned a bit. He faced out of the windshield instead, his eyes not meeting Drake's. "Drop me off over there, please."

"No, I'm not going to drop you off! Do you even know how hard we've all been looking for you? Everyone's looking for you! Helen, Crazy Steve, Mom- poor Mom was so worried. Why won't you go home to her?" Drake remembered when Walter and Josh had first moved in with his family. He would have given anything to make them both disappear. Now, he would give anything to make Walter stay. "I'm not going to stop driving until you tell me the damn truth. Don't even think about jumping out, either." Drake slid off of an on-ramp and onto the highway. "You're not going anywhere."

Walter knew when he was trapped. His gaze slid downward. He swallowed, looking for words. "I just couldn't take it anymore."

"Couldn't take what?"

"I lost it. I got fired at work, and it kind of pushed me over the edge. You boys are grown, Megan's in college, your mom … I'm lucky to even know your mom, and she's only gotten better every year I've known her. I just felt, unneeded, I guess. Then work kicked me out, and I suppose I went out of my mind. I decided to become a drifter, and, well, here I am."

"That's bullshit."

"Drake!"

"No way, Walter. Listen to me. My mother loves you, for reasons I cannot imagine. She's been going out of her mind right now, and you need to go home to her." He checked his mirrors and moved over one lane. "Take some time to think. Find a new job. But don't go running off again. That's a pretty shitty reason to avoid your family."

Walter hesitated. He hadn't told Drake the whole story, but what he had said felt like enough for now. He decided to wait. What was left could be revealed another day. "Okay. I'll give it a shot."

"There are no shots. You're going to do it. Josh is going to come stay with you guys for a few days and help you re-adjust."

"What about you?"

"I have a number one song on the charts and a new tour to promote it."

"I'm so proud of you! That's great!"

"Don't ever do this to us again."

Walter sat back, a smirk on his features. "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"Somewhere, deep down, you always did care about me."

X

Dropping Walter off at his old house had gone exactly how Drake had imagined. He and Aubrey had had a tearful reunion, and Drake figured she could keep a good hold on him until Josh arrived. He slipped out, ready to head back home.

Before he hit the highway, he felt himself grow weary. It had been a long day. A caffeine boost would be the perfect way to ensure his drive home was a good one. The mustang nestled into a good parking spot right by the little café door. Drake opened the door, hearing the little bells chime to announce his entrance. It was a nice place, this shop. He used to get coffee here sometimes before school, or rather, when he was supposed to already be in school. His chronic lateness had scored him quite a few waitresses' phone numbers, though, so he couldn't complain.

He ordered his retired usual for old times' sake, and leaned against the counter as he waited for his drink. His phone buzzed in his pocket, signifying a new text message. As he reached for it, he heard a very familiar voice call his name.

"Drake? It's you, isn't it?"

He swallowed hard, his phone forgotten. "Hi, Carly."