A/N: This one goes to the reviews I got that made me think, and remember why I really do this. Writing Fanfiction has been a hastle for me over the last few years because I can only do it when my Fiancee is gone or asleep, I struggle to stay awake when I'm beyond tired to write these stories down, so that all of you can enjoy them. Really, I'm just glad that people are taking the time to read them. It makes it all worth it! :)

~An avid reader - I didnt think you were criticizing at all. Your review actually helped me out. I didnt realize untill I read what I'd written from another persons point of view how selfish and shallow it sounded. Thank you! I love to write, I do it to get through personal emotions and just out of a love of doing it. It's never really been 'just for the reviews' because people who've said they wont finish a fic without them have always bothered me. I like them for the help they give me with the subject matter of my fanfics. I never know, expecially when writing in a fandom like Drake and Josh, if the subject matter is too dark. There arnt many fics like the ones I write, so I'm very worried about how they're being recieved. I've gotten some mean PM's about some of the chapters that have made me question wether or not to continue them. Thank you so very much for helping me out with that.

~ l-Angel-of-Darkness - It's a great website for letting out the thoughts and emotions that your harboring. Don't give up on it. Criminal Minds is a great show, it's one of the only ones that I actually try to keep up with. What you wrote was really helpful to me, thank you!

And now, the next part of the story...

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He'd been in and out of sleep for what felt like hours. Drake didnt know how long he'd been in the trunk of the car, bumping againth the rough floor on sore limbs as he tried to pull free. He could feel the swelling in his wrists, the raw skin where the metal had dug deeper into the skin.

Countless possibilities had swam through his mind on what could be happening and almost all of them made him cry. Endlessly he cursed himself for getting into the car, for trusting someone...

Always his thoughts returned to Josh. He'd just wanted to apologize, to try and get things back to the way they had been. More then anything he hoped that Josh had accepted that apology. That Josh wouldn't be angry with him for dissapearing, for being an idiot and getting into a strangers car.

He woke up again when he felt the car stop moving, the sudden quiet as the engine shut off alerting him that something was happening. He listened as a car door opened and shut, as the keys popped the lid to the trunk. The sudden light stung his eyes as he looked up at the man who had abducted his best to glare daggers at the man.

Paul pulled a small knife from his pocket and cut the zip tie from Drake's ankles, none to gently pulling him out of the trunk and holding him up as he gained his footing.

"Let's go." he said roughly as he pulled Drake toward the house.

The house was enormous, towering over them as the approached the stairs to an enclosed porch. Red bricks stacked upon each other formed the outer walls, the shingled roof gleaming in the twilight sun. It stood with two upper levels on a well maintianed, landscaped yard. Whoever lived here had alot of money...

They entered the porch and Drake took a moment to look at the barely used furniture neatly arranged on it. The white whicker seats with detailed pillows sitting undisturbed upon them. The spotless glass table with its intricate iron designs streaching to the marble flooring.

"Take off your shoes." Paul said as he held Drake steady.

He did as he was told, shuffleing his way out of them and feeling the cold floor against his stiff socks. The moment his shoes were off he wanted them back on. Old and worn as they were, they were his. They looked so dirty in comparrison to the rest of the porch.

Paul pulled him into the house, every bit more beautiful then the porch where he'd just been. Expensive furniture and art hung from the clean walls, on the wrought iron shelves that gleamed and appeared to grow from the walls. Drakes eyes caught sight of the thick metal rings atached from those walls, the neatly rolled lenghts of chains that lay beside them and he shuddered.

He was led through a glass door beside the staircase into a wide room. The walls were covered with painting that looked as if they'd been made by a very sad person. Nummorous shelves held thinck books and a jumble of spiral notebooks. A stone fireplace sat against the far wall near a large bay window. To the left of it was an oak desk with a computer and stacks of neatly assorted papers.

The man sitting at the desk was in his early thirties. His black hair was neatly combed back, chisled features and well tanned skin shone against the tailored suit he wore. Bright, piercing blue eyes watched every move Drake made as he was lead to stand on the intricately woven rug under the desk.

Drake tried to step back as the man walked toward him, but Paul held his arm tightly. He shuddered as the man grabbed his chin, lifting his head to look into his frightened eyes.

"Why are his clothes damp?" He asked. His voice was soothing, yet firm.

"Don't know." paul replied. "He ran out of the school like this."

Carefully, the man peeled the duct tape from Drake's lips.

"What do you want?' Drake asked weakly.

The man smiled. "My name is Brendon Montgomery, this is my home." he said, gesturing to the surroundings. "I'm a collector of many fine things, and you have shone to be one."

Drake felt the chill race down his spine. he didnt like this. "Why am I here, what do you want?" he asked again.

Brendon smiled. "Some of my most prized ossesions are my slaves." He said casually."Some I've bought at auctions, others, like yourself I've had brought here. I adore talent, and until now I didnt have a musicion. You're here to keep my estate in order, to entertain me."

Drake shook his head. "You can't do that to people."

"I can." Brendon laughed. "The rules of this house are strickly enforced, and, if you abaide to them then you shouldn't endure too many unpleasentries. I do not rape my slaves." he said, his voice cold. "However, if you fail to abide by the rules, then other members of my 'staff' are free to punish you in any way they see fit. Understood?"

Drake shook his head. This couldn't be happening.

"Any time you are spoken to, you will end your mannerd response with the word Sir. You will keep quiet, and do your given word efficiently and without complaint. You will behave with your fellow slaves, no fighting. You'll do exactly as comanded, and you will obey, otherwise you will be punished. Is that understood?"

"Yes Sir..." Drake said, feeling weak as Brendon's words sank in.

"Good." Brendon said before returning to his desk. "You'll spend tonight in isolation, tomorrow morning you'll meet the others. I look forward to having you here." He said with a smile before turning toward Paul.

"Take him to the isolation room, make sure its uncomfortable." Brendon said, dismissing them.

Drake swallowed his fear as he was lead to a small cabmit sized space beside the locked door to the basement. There was barly enough room for both him and Paul to stand inside.

"What did he mean?" Drake asked as he was pushed into the corner.

Paul grinned. "This room is here to break you down." he answered simply.

He unlocked the handcuffs, all the while keeping a tight hold of drake's wrists as he forced them into the shackes hanging from the ceiling. There was barely enough lengh to allow him to sit on his knees. All though the room was allreay dark a thick blindfold was tied over his teary eyes so that the he couldnt see the light under the door. A whimper escaped his lips and he was hit. Then a rubber ball gag was forced into his mouth, keeping his soft cries quiet.

Paul left the room without another word, leaving Drake in complete darkness and discomfort as he cried.

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By ten o'clock that night everyone was getting worried. Drake's phone had been going straight to voice mail for hours, and none of his friends had seen him. He hadnt called to check in or even come home to grab dry clothes. there wasn't a sign of him anywhere.

Audrey was pacing the living room, wondering wether or not to call the police. It was possible that he'd just wanted to go somewhere to be alone, after all, he'd been so depressed all week. Maybe he was just telling his friends not to tell them he was there? She tried to accept any of those possibilities as the worry gnawed at her.

Josh was sitting on his bed, the ping pong paddle balanced over his outstreached hand. No one he had caled had seen Drake, or even heard from him. It wasnt like Drake to just dissapear and leave people worrying like this. He could do some pretty stupid, even selfish things, but this...

He'd been so sure that Drake would be here, waiting in their room for a chance to talk. He'd been in here all week, and now he was gone. It felt so empty without him. The paddle tipped over his fingers, crashing onto the floor and pulling Josh from his thoughts. For long moments he looked at it as it lay there, alone and waiting for the moment it would once again be used for its intended purpose.

Without another thought Josh pushed himself outvof his bed and grabbed his jacket. He was determined to find drake and repair their brotherhood. He'd go to every friends house, to every place where they usually hung out. Drake had to be at one of them.

"Where are you going?" audrey asked as she watched Josh head for the door, the phone held tightly in her hands.

"I'm gonna look for Drake." he said absently.

He could see how worried she was, and he felt like it was all his fault. If he'd just talked to Drake when Mr. Roland had offered to let him then things could be back to normal now. Instead of laying discarded on the floor, the paddle could be in his hands, and he and Drake could be playing a needed game of ping pong. They could be hanging out. He could know that Drake was all right.

Josh headed out into the darkness, glad that no one could see the silent tears in his eyes.