A slice of Caike (GONE fanfic)

Aftermath

Drake had taken a shower. He scrubbed everywhere he could think of, hoping it all would go down the drain instead of lingering. But linger it all did. No matter how vigorously he he washed the dried blood from his hair, or touched the bite mark on his shoulder with stinging soap, he could never be rid of what had happened that night or any previous nightly endeavors.

He spent a long time in the shower, stepping out only when it's temperatures dropped way below comfort. He dried in a warm fluffy towel, but quickly felt way too naked and rushed for his night clothes.

He slid into them so that he never had to look. It would be a long time before he was comfortable in his own skin again. He hadn't, ever since he and Caine had begun their escapades.

The blonde despaired. Would he ever be Drake again? Comfortable in his own body that had lay with another. Drake didn't do those things.

The blonde grit his teeth. He was anguished, but above all, enraged that he was so easily manipulated and taken advantage of.

But he would do anything for Caine, and Drake guessed that was how he had ended up here. All because of Caine and his influence.

Caine would bring Drake gifts. The blonde didn't know how Caine got them, but he did know that he was rewarded with them for being loyal and taking care of business. They were bullets, and Drake was now torn between cherishing them or abandoning them.

Most nights, when he rejected sleep, he would line them on his window sill. He liked to organize them from lowest to highest in calibre. He enjoyed how the moon light would complement the sleek and refined curve of their casings.

He would imagine them chewing through people, and he would feel content. He pictured how their receivers would sob and beg and bleed, but wouldn't fathom how blessed they were with one of his bullets lodged in them. Sometimes he thought of kids from school, other times, his parents or his therapist.

Now, Drake ruthlessly thought of Caine. He saw little contentment in it like he did before. For the anguish and confusion Caine had caused, Drake only saw revenge.

The blondes anger was wearing him out. He could only stand, fuming, for so long. He crawled into bed, although he knew he wouldn't sleep, and pulled the thick covers over his head.

For once, he thought of the pills. They where small and oblong, granted to him in doses of one per night by his therapist.

Previously, he concealed them under his tongue and took a deceitful swig of water before leaving his therapists office, only to spit it out in the trash. However, when he was discovered, they made sure that he took them. Though, they couldn't stop him from brining it back up later. It wasn't appealing, but so much better than sleeping.

Now, he just wanted to put his mind to rest. Maybe the pills could help. There was so much he didn't want to think about, because it all surfaced when he was alone, and it made him more upset than simply angry. He could deal with anger, but everything else was a different story.

Drake hadn't realized that he was sniffling. He huddled beneath the blankets, pulling his legs to his chest, and tried to shut it out.

Despite him being utterly alone, he felt like he was being watched, speculated, and judged by Diana and most notably Caine. His covers were no match for the perceived prying eyes, and what he imagined they would think. Especially Caine.

He wanted to attack them, fend off not only his embarrassment, but his surprise tears as well.

But he couldn't find the will. He drowned in his discomfort and eventually slept. Tomorrow, maybe he'd have a better shot at coming to a conclusion about Caine.