"Who's gonna pick you up when you fall? Who's gonna hang it up when you call? Who's gonna pay attention to your dreams? Who's gonna plug their ears when you scream?" -Drive, The Cars

Drive

Things had been going well before she came along. Things were . . . almost perfect, in a strange sort of way, before that brown-haired, blue-eyed girl stepped into Dwayne's life. She'd been the perfect spitting image of a celebrity without all the glam, picture-perfect in all her moments. She'd been one of the loveliest girls Dwayne had ever set eyes upon, even if to others, she was another normal girl with normal clothes and normal behaviors. To others, she'd been one of the single most hopeful (and different) people on the planet. She'd been the girl that could talk her way through anything, but also the girl that was stepped on. She was, and always had been, the girl that never said a word about the people to hurt her most.

They'd all been sitting in the cave, laughing and hollering and talking, with the radio on. Star gazed at David with loving eyes, one hand resting on his chest and another playing with his hair. Leddie was asleep on the bed while Dwayne kept a close eye on him, making sure he wouldn't find himself in any trouble or if he woke up from a nightmare, he'd be okay. He had to make sure Leddie was okay - he always had to. If he didn't, he'd be dishonoring her, and there was no way he would do that willingly.

"Is there ever anything good that comes out of that?" Dwayne turned to listen to Marko speak, wondering what he was talking about.

"No."

"Then why not try it?" Marko grinned then, and Paul returned it. The duo stood up - the two brothers, more likely - and walked out of the cave up the stairs. God knew what those two were possibly going to get into this time.

Dwayne stood up and stretched, figuring that Leddie would be alright for now. He ignored Star and David and focused his gaze on the wall, staring at one of the drawings hung up by himself. He hadn't drawn it, of course - he wasn't the best drawer in the world, and in fact, he couldn't draw a stick figure to save his life. At the most, he could maybe draw a tree. A tree that would be better drawn by a 7 seven year-old than himself. But, despite that, it didn't mean he had an appreciation for the arts. She'd opened his eyes to it, made him realize how important it really was.

Dwayne shook his head and looked away from the portrait - which was of himself and Paul standing next to each other - to the blank wall on the other side of the cave. He watched the flames of the candles flicker against the wall, creating grotesque shadows that otherwise would've been fearful if it wasn't for himself being what he was.

And then, he heard it. That gentle song, the one with soft lyrics that he'd heard her hum so many times before. The song that broke his heart every time he heard it. The same song that stopped him from moving, his eyes still gazing at the wall with intensity.

David and Star heard the song, too, and turned to look at Dwayne to see his reaction.

"Turn it off," he said, refusing to move at all.

He could see her now - the dark blue comb going through her hair, the strands glistening with water under the light of her bedroom. Her lips moving ever so slightly as she hummed along, applying a little hint of black onto her eyes. Her eyes . . . those blue eyes staring at him with ease, the hope still being found in them after years of suffering. Her fingers running gently through his hair, playing with the ends of them. Her laugh, oh, her laugh as she swayed to the song. Her standing in the window of her room and smiling down at him on the street, the way she would wave down before disappearing in the window. Her laugh, her smile, her eyes -

The song cut through his mind, singing the lyrics and making his grief worsen. How could someone like him be so devastated over one human? How was that possible?

"Turn it off!" he shouted suddenly, making Star jump as she rushed over to the radio and fiddled with one of the knobs. David didn't respond to the situation - if anything, he just stared at Dwayne with these unbelieving cold eyes. He would've never looked at her that way, although he did once upon a time. She'd eventually grown on him, and he'd grown to like her. Then . . . the thing happened.

Dwayne sighed and looked back down at his book, but his interest in it was suddenly lost. He couldn't quit thinking about the song, and he damned the radio for playing it, and Star for not turning it off quick enough.

He tossed the book across the quiet cave and stood up, storming over to the small crook she'd always be in. It wasn't too bad, considering the large size, but to him it was absolute hell. Everything that was hers was still there, untouched by her fingers or his for that matter. But then, he ruined the cycle of coming to the crook and just sitting there - he picked up one of her most prized possessions, a ring with a red diamond on it.

And then, as he stared at the stone, he began to remember all that had happened those two years ago.