MY FIRST GONE FANFIC! Yay! The gone fandom is so small, but I love you all. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING, NONE OF THE CHARACTERS, THEY'RE ALL MG'S AND QUITE RIGHTLY SO.

Translucent

Chapter One: Whip Hand

It was a hot summer day. The sun was shining over the FAYZ for the first time in what felt like ages. The black inky spirals were no longer engulfing the kids day by day. The light was back. Safety was back.

And Drake Merwin had never felt worse.

Drake Merwin was tired - no, exhausted. His red whip hand was dry. His mouth was dry. His skin was dry.

The hot sun beat down on his face, making him growl and lift his arm to shield its brightness from him. He was in the middle of the desert where Lana Lazar's car crash had taken place. He didn't know that, of course. All he cared about was that the outsiders couldn't see him.

Drake didn't care about much, you see. He always put himself first. He always did things that would benefit him in the long run, even if it meant harming another person or harming himself for a short while.

Except now, he felt completely and utterly lost.

The FAYZ wall hadn't come down. But something else had happened. It had turned transparent so everyone from outside could see them.

Could see Penny's head crushed and battered by a rock Caine had threw in a fit of rage.

Could see Sam Temple, desperate and scared, shouting to a mother who couldn't, wouldn't, hear.

Caine, eyeing his mother with a look of disgust, anger, jealousy, misery all on his face before turning and walking away.

Astrid, apologetic because she'd killed her dumb retard of a brother and didn't really have an excuse for doing so. At least, an excuse those outsiders would understand.

Diana had run away too, taking the Gaiaphage baby with her.

With no Gaiaphage to guide him, Drake felt lost for the first time in ages. And kind of scared, too.

He didn't have anyone outside waiting for him. At least, he guessed that. He still remembered the looks of horror on everyone's faces as they took in his appearance, his evil face, his wild tentacle of an arm.

He was a monster.

He used to find being a monster fun. He ruled the kids. He knew they were more scared of him than they were of Caine, because Caine was at least mentally stable. Drake, however, was not.

He was a monster, an outsider, hated, not wanted and not needed.

Why did that no longer appeal to him?

Drake looked around. Apart from a few bushes and a couple of big rocks, there was absolutely nothing surrounding him.

No water. No food. He was going to die here.

Oh well. I had a good run, he told himself, before grinning slightly and lying on the gravel.

He used his whip hand to shield the sun from his eyes, holding it until the hand grew tired. Then, he turned over to sleep, even though it was the middle of the day, and even though he was hot and tired and hungry and dry and lost and also kind of scared.

He thought about everything he'd done, everyone he'd fought, all the pain and anguish he'd caused.

He waited for Brittney, innocent, helpless, good Brittney, to take over his body and do something about their situation, because Drake simply couldn't.

He waited for someone to come and fight him, even though the fight had long gone out of him.

Drake Merwin waited.

AN: Read and review, my babies, or I'll force-feed you redvines!