My first Drake and Josh fanfic I decided to put up here. Be nice and review. I need feedback.

A/N deals with abuse, self-mutilation (possibly), cutting. You don't want dreams about this stuff - don't read it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Drake, Josh, Mindy, Megan, Audrey or Walter.

Drake Parker sits bolt upright in his bed clinging onto his blankets and screaming the same way the little boy in his dream was. The teen boy clutches the blankets tightly and breathes heavily. Drake looks over at his stepbrother on the other side of the room and sees him still fast asleep. Drake sits back against his pillows and pulls his knees to his chest as tears stream down his cheeks.

Another memory dream to add to the stockpile.

His body shakes lightly with each sob. After he composes himself, he stands up and climbs the ladder down from his bed. He quietly walks out of the room him and his brother share and sees his little sister walking out of her room. "What are you doing awake Megan?" Drake asks, trying to keep his voice calm and even but failing miserably as it cracks. He silently curses himself as Megan walks over to him.

"You were crying," she says circling him. "Why?"

"None of your business, now go back to sleep," he says continuing his walk to the bathroom.

"It better have been because of something I did," she says slowly strolling back into her room.

"Don't flatter yourself," Drake says as he quietly shuts the bathroom door. He walks over to the sink and leans on it, looking into the mirror. He sees his tearstained face staring back at him, his eyes full of pain and fear, just as they were so many years ago. He turns on the water in the sink and splashes his face with the cold water now filling the basin before looking back into the mirror. He shakes his head and sits on the ledge of the bathtub with his head in his hands.

Why am I having all these nightmares? There's got to be some way to stop them…

Drake looks up and sighs.

Unless he's back again.

He slowly brings himself to his feet. He stands in front of the full-length mirror looking at his reflection. "Almost like nothing bad has ever happened," he says pulling the shirt he's wearing up and over his head. He looks in the mirror again, sees the reflection of his back in the far mirror, and shudders. Scars from every belt in the house. He lets his shirt fall back down on him and sees something shining on the sink. Drake walks closer and picks up the razor blade.

I can't do this, I swore I'd stop. I can't do this… it's not like anyone would care if I did though, and it might help…

Drake pushes the sleeves on his shirt up to his elbows and picks up the blade again. "What should I do this time?" he mumbles to himself as he brings the blade to his skin and drags it along the freckled porcelain white skin and sees deep red blood start emerging from the scratch. He picks the blade up and keeps scratching down his left arm and begins on his right arm, the whole time just enough to make blood come. When he's satisfied with his job, he takes a towel out of the bathroom closet and gently wipes the blood off, wincing in pain. He walks up to the mirror again, holds his arms out straight to his sides, and reads the cuts backwards. He smirks slightly. When he sees the blood is no longer coming from the cuts and pulls his sleeves back down. Drake walks back to his room and climbs back up the ladder to his bed. He lies down under the blankets, unaware of Josh silently watching him. Drake falls asleep within a few minutes. When Josh is sure Drake is asleep, he stands up, walks into the bathroom, and sees the bloody towel on the floor and a few drops of blood on the garbage can. He looks inside, sees the red stained razor blade, and goes pale. He cleans up the blood with a fresh towel, overlooking the mirror that Drake wished his image had been burned into. The image of him with his arms spread wide, fresh cuts on his arm reading;

See if you care this time.