TITLE: Scenes from an Unplanned Life
SPOILERS: Anything from the series is fair game here.
DISCLAIMER: I neither own nor claim to own anything relating to the show Drake & Josh. The powers that be from Nickelodeon and Schneider's Bakery own all. I am not making a profit except for the satisfaction of being able to play with words for a little while.
A/N: This is the last chapter! The moment you all have been waiting for has finally arrived. I hope it was worth the wait.
Chapter 11: Thicker Than Water
POV: Drake/Josh, 25 years old
It was a small place – a quaint Chinese restaurant that was as far removed from a chain as McDonald's was from fine dining. When Drake pulled into the parking lot, there were only four other cars there. Not knowing what kind of car Josh had, Drake had no idea if his brother was there yet.
He stepped out of the car and took a deep breath to calm his nerves, squinting into the late afternoon sun. The gravel in the small parking lot crunched under his boots as he walked towards the front door. Red paper lanterns, faded and tattered, adorned the front of the restaurant.
When he opened the door, the smells of stir-fried vegetables and ginger hit his nose and his stomach growled noisily, clueing him in to the hunger he had been ignoring since he left San Diego. A pretty Asian woman with smooth skin and brown, almond-shaped eyes smiled at him as he pulled off his sunglasses and blinked in the dim light. "Welcome," she said sweetly. "Just one?" She spoke English with an accent that lent authenticity to the establishment.
"I'm supposed to meet someone," Drake said, giving her a small smile. "He might already be here." He craned his neck to look into the dining room.
"A very tall man with black hair?" she offered helpfully, still smiling.
Drake's heart started pounding. "Sounds like him." He wiped his suddenly-sweaty palms on his jeans. "Where is he?" he asked, looking again.
"He's in the back," she answered, nodding. "He said he was waiting for someone. Maybe that's you."
"Yeah," Drake said distractedly, taking another deep breath.
"Right this way," she said and starting walking into the dining room, Drake following closely behind.
Their eyes met across the room and Drake felt a tiny smile pull at the corners of his mouth – an entirely inappropriate gesture, he knew, considering Josh didn't return the favor. "Hey," he said softly, a little unsure. He remained standing after the hostess had left.
Josh looked up at him for a moment, contemplating his words. Finally, one side of his mouth lifting in what Drake chose to believe was the faintest hint of a smile, he said, "If you're waiting for me to pull out your chair, you can forget it."
Drake's shoulders visibly lowered as a sigh escaped his lips. His fingers shook as he pulled out his chair and sat down. He looked across the small table at his brother, who sat in silence, his long fingers wrapped around an almost-empty glass of beer.
"I'm glad you called," Drake said softly, breaking the silence that was growing more formidable by the second.
Josh nodded almost imperceptibly. "I didn't mean what I said, you know," he replied, his voice so soft that Drake barely heard him, "about not having a brother." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about that."
"It's okay," Drake said hoarsely, relief stealing his voice. "I deserved it."
Josh studied him across the table, draining his glass. Then he said, "Yeah, you did." He paused a beat. "But I'm still sorry."
The server saved Drake from having to find something to say. The slim young man wore black pants, a white dress shirt, and a black tie – a uniform Drake knew well. Having asked for their drink orders, he stood waiting expectantly.
"Water with lemon," Drake said.
"Another beer," Josh replied.
Nodding, the server left and Drake fixed Josh with a wry expression.
"What?" Josh asked a bit uncomfortably.
Drake smiled slightly. "I had you pegged as a teetotaler." He grabbed a handful of crispy noodles, popped some into his mouth.
Josh just shrugged, giving Drake a sardonic smile. He didn't say a word.
It was Drake's turn to squirm. "What?" he asked around a mouthful of noodles.
"Nothing," Josh replied. "I just never thought I'd hear you use the word 'teetotaler'."
"Yeah, well," Drake began, chuckling lightly, "when you're kid's smarter than you are, you figure out fast that a dictionary is for more than just looking up dirty words."
At the mention of Jack, the mood got noticeably more serious. A silence descended that held until well after the server had returned with their drinks. The ice in Drake's glass clinked as he stirred his water nervously with his straw. "I should've told you about Jack," he finally said.
Josh let the comment pass, instead opting to ask, "How old is he?"
"Six," Drake answered. He could see Josh doing the quick subtraction in his head, the subtle look of surprise that colored his expression.
"Yeah," Drake said, nodding. "I get that a lot."
Josh didn't respond right away, just studied the man sitting across from him. He hadn't noticed it before – perhaps because he didn't want to see it – but Drake had matured. He looked basically the same, but there was a hardness to his eyes, a seriousness to his demeanor that screamed adult. The boy Josh remembered was gone, relegated forever to his memories.
"Do you have a picture?" he asked after a moment.
Drake shook his head. "Not with…" He snapped his fingers. "Wait! I think I do." He pulled out his wallet and opened it, searching the slots. A few seconds later he looked up, smiling triumphantly. He held out a worn strip of pictures, creased in the middle where they had been folded. They had been taken in one of those photo kiosks in the mall.
Josh wiped the condensation from his fingers and reached for the pictures, holding them close for a better look. There were three pictures. In the first one, Drake and a little boy grinned back at him, and Josh immediately saw the resemblance. In the middle picture, they were making funny faces to the camera, their noses wrinkled up, identical splashes of freckles across their cheeks. The third picture had Jack sitting on Drake's lap, Drake's chin resting on the top of the boy's head; they weren't smiling, but they looked happy anyway.
"He looks like you," Josh said, blinking back sudden tears. He couldn't take his eyes off the pictures – his nephew, his brother's son. He wanted to memorize every detail of the boy's face so that he would never forget it.
"Except for his eyes," Drake said. "He gets those from his mother."
The words drew Josh's attention back to Drake. He lowered his hands to the table, still grasping the pictures. "His mother," he said. "Did she come with you?"
Drake almost laughed. "She's not exactly what you'd call a hands-on mom."
"Where is she?" Josh asked softly.
"I have no idea," Drake said evenly. "And I don't really care."
Josh got the feeling he shouldn't ask, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Who is she?"
"Just another face in the crowd," Drake answered dryly, studying Josh's reaction. "In fact, the day she left Jack on my doorstep was only the second time I met her. I didn't even remember her name." He wasn't sure why he was revealing so much, except that sharing secrets with Josh had always come so naturally to him.
"And you haven't seen her since." It wasn't a question.
"Nope." Drake popped another handful of noodles in his mouth, looking around for the server. He was starving. Suddenly he sat up. "Crap."
"What?" Josh asked, startled.
Drake looked at him. "Jack," he said. "I told him I was on my way." He looked at his watch. "I better call him," he added, reaching for his phone.
Josh watched in silence as Drake flipped open his phone. He sat staring at it as an odd expression of mortified disbelief crept over his face.
"What is it?" Josh asked.
Drake dragged his eyes up to meet his brother's. "I don't have the number," he whispered, his hand falling to the table, fingers wrapped tightly around the phone.
"You're kidding."
Drake could only shake his head. It was one of those things that he had forced himself to forget over the years. He hadn't asked for it before he left San Diego and in his jumbled state of mind, he didn't think to look at his recent call list.
"Let me see your phone," Josh said gently, holding out his hand.
Drake handed it to him without a word, his fingers brushing Josh's palm. That was the first physical contact they had had in seven years and the significance wasn't lost on either of them – they held each other's gaze for a long moment.
Josh finally looked down, pressing the buttons of Drake's cell phone in rapid succession, the sounds coming together to create an odd sort of song. "There," he said after a few moments, holding the phone out to Drake. "Now you have no excuse not to call."
"Thanks," Drake muttered, taking the phone from Josh with another brush of his fingers. He held the phone in his right hand and opened his contact list with his thumb, smiling when he saw the first two entries – "AA Josh" and "AA Mom & Dad." Highlighting the second one, he pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear.
Drake's side of the conversation sounded like this: "Hey, Walter…I'm fine…Let me talk to Jack…Hey, bud…" Josh could see Drake's face soften, a small smile curving his lips. "I'm gonna be later than I thought…I know I said soon, but something came up." He flicked his eyes to Josh. "I've got someone here who wants to talk to you." Josh's eyes got wide and he suddenly felt very nervous, his heart pounding in his ears.
Drake laughed. "You'll have to ask him yourself," he said. "Hold on. Here he is." He held the phone out to Josh, who sat unmoving, staring in terror at the phone.
"W-What do I say?" he asked, looking across the table at Drake.
"Say hello," Drake replied, slightly amused, pushing the phone towards him. He lifted his eyebrows. "He's a kid, Josh, not the president."
Josh nodded absently and reached with trembling fingers for the phone. With one last look at Drake, he pressed the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
"Who are you?" Jack asked bluntly, his young voice clear through the phone.
"I'm Josh," he replied. "Your Uncle Josh," he clarified, the words tasting sweet on his tongue. He flicked his eyes to Drake, who had a tiny smile on his face. Josh mirrored the expression.
"Oh," Jack said nonchalantly, like he spoke to long-lost uncles everyday. "Are you coming back with my dad?"
Josh sat up straight, the question catching him off-guard. "Well, I…" he stammered. "I don't know." He took a breath, asked softly, "Would you like me to?"
He could almost hear Jack shrug. "My dad said you used to do magic tricks," the boy said, continuing like he hadn't heard the question.
"I still do," Josh replied.
"D'ya think you could teach me one?" Jack asked excitedly.
Josh closed his eyes and swallowed down the lump that was forming in his throat. "Sure," he managed to say.
"Cool," Jack said, then paused for a moment. "Can I talk to my dad now?"
"Sure." He opened his eyes and looked at his brother as he listened to his nephew's voice, trying to reconcile the two in his mind. "I'll talk to you later, okay? Here's your dad." He handed the phone across the table to Drake.
When Drake pressed the phone back to his ear, Josh heard him say, "Hey, bud…He is?" Drake met Josh's eyes, smiling. "That's cool…I'm not sure yet, but it'll probably be pretty late…I know…Be good, okay?...Love you, too…Bye." Flipping the phone closed, Drake slipped it back into his pocket.
"He sounds like a good kid," Josh said, not having anything else to go by.
"He is," Drake said. "Surprisingly enough."
"I'm not surprised," Josh replied seriously. "You were always good with kids."
Drake just looked at him. "Kinda like Peter Pan," he said softly, the hint of a smirk on his lips.
Josh winced at the reminder of his own words. "Look, I…"
But Drake held up a hand, stopping him. "It's okay," he said. A small smile appeared. "You were right. You were always right."
"Not always," Josh said softly, sitting back in his chair. He still held the strip of pictures in his hand and was absently bending one of the corners back and forth. "I wasn't right when I thought you'd never come back."
Drake didn't know what to say. How the hell was he supposed to respond to something like that? He was saved from his dilemma by the server, who was standing next to their table, smiling down at them. "Have you gentlemen decided?"
Drake's hunger, which had been forgotten in the last few minutes, reared its ugly head in the form of a loud stomach grumble that was heard by all three of them. "Um," he said, fumbling with the menu, his eyes scanning the selections. "I'll have some fried dumplings, two eggrolls, a side of chicken fried rice, and a bowl of wonton soup." He moved to close the menu, then said, "Oh! And bring some more of those crunchy noodles, too."
There was a pause as the server finished writing, then turned to Josh. "And for you?"
Josh, who had been staring in disbelief at Drake, finally turned to the server and said, "I'll just have a bowl of egg drop soup. Thanks."
The server gave a little bow and then turned on his heels and headed to the back of the restaurant, leaving the two alone once again. The tension of a few moments before had dissipated and Josh asked lightly, "You're not hungry, are you?"
Drake just shrugged, smiling a little. "I skipped breakfast. Too nervous," he said.
The server brought the crunchy noodles to the table in one of those holders that also included a bowl of spicy mustard and a bowl of duck sauce. Drake grabbed a handful before the server even set it down, popping them into his mouth and chewing noisily.
Several moments of almost companionable silence passed between them before Josh broke it by saying suddenly, "I wanted to hate you."
Drake looked at him in silence, the sound of his heart loud in his ears. "You have every right to," he finally replied.
But Josh shook his head. "I thought it would be easier, you know? If I hated you, then it wouldn't hurt so much. But I couldn't."
"Why not?" Drake asked, holding his breath, fearing the answer.
Josh looked him right in the eye and said, unwaveringly, "'Cause I missed you too much."
And for the second time that day, Drake felt like crying.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
It was almost dark and a balmy breeze was blowing. Drake's eyes followed the path of a paper cup as it skidded across the parking lot. He looked back towards the restaurant; they had turned on the lights inside the paper lanterns and they glowed festively in the growing darkness.
Josh stood next to his car – a dark blue Mercedes, Drake noticed – his keys dangling from his hand. They had finally reached the part of the evening where they had to part ways and both were reluctant. They had talked about most of the standard stuff and a little bit of the other, but they had danced around a lot of it. There was still a lot left to say.
But there would be time for that later.
"I don't regret it, you know," Drake finally said. "Leaving." It was something he had wanted to say all night, but hadn't had the right opening. But here, now, in the dying light of a day he'd never forget, he needed to say it.
Josh clenched his keys in his fist and fought the urge to say something that he knew would only be tinged with the bitterness he needed to let go of. So instead, he rested his arm on the roof of his car and forced himself to listen.
Drake took a breath and shuffled his feet against the asphalt. "I regret the way I did it; I never wanted to hurt you. And I know there's a lot I have to make up for. But I can't regret leaving; do you understand? I can't," he said, shaking his head. He felt his lips begin to tremble. "Because that would mean that I regret having Jack. And I could never do that."
"I know," Josh whispered, the bitterness draining away. How could he argue with that? He thought about the well-worn strip of photos in his pocket – Drake had insisted he keep them when he had tried to hand them back – and knew that his brother was telling him the truth.
They held their gaze for a long moment. During all the years they had been brothers, they had spent more years estranged than they had together. And yet, they could still speak volumes to each other without saying a word.
"If Walter hadn't told you about Jack," Drake asked suddenly, the question bubbling up from his subconscious, surprising even him, "would you have called me?"
Josh was taken aback for a moment, then heaved a heavy sigh. He was suddenly so tired. He looked up at the sky – the stars were obscured by the lights of the city, but the moon shone brightly, hanging three-quarters full. Finally, after a long moment of contemplation, he turned to his brother and said honestly, "I don't know."
Drake just nodded, thinking about the answer. "Fair enough." After a beat, he said, "Well, I better get going. It's getting late."
"Yeah," Josh said, standing up straight. "Drive safely."
"You, too." Drake turned towards his car, digging in his pocket for his keys. He had his hand on the door handle when he remembered one more thing he wanted to say. "Josh!" he called.
Josh, who had his door open and his right foot inside the car, stopped and looked at Drake over his car roof. "Yeah?"
Looking at his brother, Drake said softly, "I missed you, too."
Josh only managed a small Mona Lisa smile as he blinked against the sudden sting of tears. He nodded, but couldn't speak.
"Well, goodnight." Not goodbye. Drake turned away, pulling open the car door.
"Wait," Josh said softly and Drake closed his eyes against the undisguised emotion in that single syllable. When he turned around, Josh was standing at the back of his car, looking at him with solemn eyes.
"I want to forgive you," Josh said, the breeze snatching his words away almost before Drake heard them. He fiddled nervously with his keys.
"I'll understand, you know," Drake said softly, "if you can't."
"Mom and Dad already have."
Drake tried to smile, but it was brittle and crumbled away almost immediately. "Yeah, but they have to. It's in the rules," he said, trying to make a joke. He knew beyond reason that he would forgive Jack anything.
Josh looked at his brother – the breeze was blowing his hair up and it haloed around his head in the yellow glow of the street light. For a moment, he looked like the kid he used to be and Josh realized with sudden, startling clarity that he didn't want to lose him again. Drake was a part of him, as essential to his life as air, and over the last seven years, he had been slowly suffocating without him. But now, standing here, his eyes fixed on the brother he thought he'd lost, he could finally breathe again.
He took a step forward, then another, the gravel crunching under his sneakers, until he was standing right in front of Drake. "I'll get there," he said. "Just give me some time, okay?"
"Deal," Drake replied, hating that it sounded so casual, so nonchalant. But he couldn't trust himself to say anything more. He held out his hand.
Josh looked down at Drake's hand, noticed it shaking ever-so-slightly, and felt his doing the same. Their eyes met across the small space between them, the last seven years falling away like dust. At the core of it all, one thing had never changed – they were still brothers. And that was something they could build on.
Finally, Josh opened his arms, palms facing Drake. "Hug me, brother," he said softly, smiling despite the tears that threatened to fall.
This time, as he stepped into his brother's embrace, Drake didn't even look around to see if anyone was watching.
THE END
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