Hey all of you readers, welcome to the newest installment of this lovely story! This begins a series of rather short chapters, so hopefully I'll be updating pretty quickly.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gone.

DEDICATION: To my good pal, Caris L. Clearwater!

Chapter Fifteen: Rock Show

"We waited for love...

But there wasn't anybody

around so,

we left town with the rock show..."

-Lady Gaga, "Rock Show"

Drake's eyes flickered open, and he stifled a groan. He was still in the dilapidated church, still in Nala's clutches, still in this alliance of sorts. Another groan came, and this time he let it out. Everyone was passed caring whether or not Drake Merwin groaned.

He rubbed his temples, trying to remember the dream. For the past month or so, he couldn't remember, it had been the same. A replay of his first-ever detention back at Coates.

The detention itself had been pretty horrible, just him and a Nazi-like teacher in Coates' dungeon (even though it had been called a "basement"), and he hadn't really even done anything worthy enough to get in trouble. That kid hadn't even bled that much.

And yet, Drake had dreamed about that detention for more then three weeks because it represented something. Not that he hated Coates, not even that he enjoyed causing people pain.

He dreamed about that detention because at the end, he had walked out of that dungeon-like room and was free. Drake longed to be free more then anything he had ever wanted. He hated the hopelessness and despair that was imbibed in this room, hated the days and lives ticking by, and hated Nala.

Even thinking her name made his vision go almost white with rage. She had used him, gave him a taste of what it was like to be powerful, and thrown him away like trash. Left him behind to try and reforge his existence among people who hated him enough to kill him, but feared him enough to stay away. Except for six kids and a dog.

Drake exhaled softly, looking around him at the filthy, sleeping bodies. Caine, immediately to his left, mouth open in a silent snore. Lana, deep circles under her eyes, flies buzzing around her head. Orc, hulking and monstrous, leaning back against a pew. Patrick, whimpering in sleep, curled up next to Orc. Edilio, hands under his head, sleep-talking quietly in Spanish. Astrid, hand on Little Pete's leg, her face serene as she slept. And Little Pete himself was in a deep REM state, sprawled in Drake's lap.

He quickly debated the pros and cons of moving the little boy, pros being no kid in his lap, but eventually decided to just leave him. In reality, Astrid started to wake up, so further action on Drake's part wasn't possible.

Drake leaned his head back before Astrid could see that he was awake, and watched through slitted eyes as she reviewed the situation in front of her. "Petey," she hissed as if the little boy could hear her, and Drake felt as Little Pete was lifted off of him. "Stay away from Drake."

So much for trust.

And there you have it. Sorry for it's shortness!

Review, please!

:Hyperactive Lioness: