A/N: Hello! Welcome to my very first Drake & Josh fic! Woo-hoo! I'm mucho excited. :D Hopefully you all will enjoy! Thank you so much for reading/reviewing, and God bless! :)

Silver, Black, and Maybe Crazy

Combing his shaggy black hair with his fingers, Josh was cheerfully smiling as he strolled down the school corridor towards his English classroom, when abruptly he halted in front of the doorway, jaw slackening. "Drake?"

A scowling, scrawny teen was preparing to enter the same classroom, and he wheeled around when he heard his name called. "Oh, hey, Josh. What's up?"

"You—you—you're actually going to be on time for Mrs. Hayfer's class? Or any class, for that matter?"

Drake shrugged. "So? What's the big deal?"

Flabbergasted, Josh blinked multiple times, mouth fluttering opened and closed until he finally managed to utter, "Why are you on time today? You're never on time to class, or to anything!"

"Well, I was going to hang out in the bathroom for awhile, but Madison walked in, so I figured I better beat it out of there."

"Madison? You mean a girl went in the boys' bathroom? And you weren't ecstatic?"

"No, not a girl Madison—Madison…Whatshisname. You know, the creepy goth guy who everyone avoids? New student this year? Madison." Drake shuddered as if the name was revolting.

"No, I can't say I know him," Josh replied.

"All for the better. He's a weirdo."

Suddenly the bell rang, and Josh adopted a look of shock. "Uh-oh…." He bolted into the classroom without another word, Drake trailing sluggishly behind him.

000

"Look, there he is," muttered Drake, nodding toward a corner of the cafeteria. He and Josh were seated across from one another as they ate lunch, surrounded by a group of friends. Josh glanced in the direction Drake had gestured, inquiring, "Who?"

"Madison."

Eventually Josh spotted a skinny boy donning black who was rapping his fingers against the lunchroom table in a steady rhythm as he slowly chewed a sandwich.

"Aw, he's all by himself!" commented Josh sympathetically.

"That's good," Drake responded, shaking his head. "The kid's a freak."

"Oh, come on. You know, it's always good to give someone the benefit of the doubt." After thinking for a moment, Josh stood, seizing his food as he declared, "I think I'll go sit with him."

"Don't! He's a nutjob, Josh. Just leave 'im be."

Ignoring his brother's warning, Josh headed determinedly for Madison's table, seating himself purposefully across from the gothic boy. "Hello. My name is Josh. Mind if I sit here?"

Madison was so startled at Josh's sudden appearance, he nearly dropped his sandwich, though he swiftly recovered, and, tensing, Madison nodded. Once more, he resumed with the rhythmic tapping of his fingernails against the table and his unhurried chewing.

"So what's your name?" Josh questioned conversationally, when he suddenly noticed the flawlessly-applied, silver, sparkly eye-shadow that the boy was wearing. Josh's stomach clenched. This boy couldn't really be some kind of freak, could he?

After swallowing slowly, the boy scowled and replied, "Madison. Look, if you want to make fun of me, just get it over with and leave, okay?"

"I'm not here to make fun of you," Josh answered, startled at Madison's candidness.

Still seeming suspicious, Madison took a final bite of his sandwich, then gazed down at it. Josh realized that although it had once been a whole sandwich, Madison had eaten part of it, leaving one half that looked as if the sandwich had been cut diagonally with a knife.

"Wow, you ate exactly half of that sandwich," blurted Josh before he could help it. Not replying, Madison rummaged through his lunchbox until he produced a metal knife. Using this knife, Madison squinted down at the sandwich half, which he lay upon the table on top of a plastic bag, and carefully began cutting into the eaten edge.

"What are you doing?" asked Josh curiously.

"Making it perfect."

"The edge?"

"Yeah."

Josh was truly beginning to feel a smidgen of regret at his decision to sit with this boy.

But I must give him the benefit of the doubt!

The bell signaling lunch's end rang, and Josh packed up the remains of his lunch and stood. "It was nice sitting with you. Maybe we can sit together again tomorrow."

Glancing at Josh skeptically, Madison said nothing and placed his sandwich into the plastic bag it had been sitting on. After storing this inside his lunchbox, the gothic boy stood and quickly exited the cafeteria, boldly jostling past his fellow students.

Somehow, Drake struggled through the crowd of students surging towards the cafeteria doors and managed to come to a halt next to Josh. "So was he an oddball or what?"

"He was pretty strange, but you know, I think he's a good guy. I feel kind of bad for him."

"Yeah, whatever. I think you should stay away from him, Josh. Nutters are never good to be around. They could be dangerous."

000

For many days thereafter, Josh found himself sitting across from Madison during lunch, and although the gothic teen remained suspicious of Josh's motives for quite some time, the two were eventually able to have normal conversations, to the point that Josh even enjoyed spending time with Madison. Seemingly Madison was enjoying himself too; he flashed a smile on rare occasion.

Following school one day, most of the student body had left, but Josh was hovering near Drake's locker, frowning. With Drake in possession of the car keys, Josh could not leave for home without him, and the black-haired boy was becoming rather irritated at having to wait for his brother, especially because….

"Drake," groaned Josh, "are you and Lola done making out yet?"

Surfacing for breath, Drake shook his head. "Nope."

Sighing, flustered, Josh threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine! I'm gonna go wander around school a bit, and you better come find me when you're done. 'Cause if you leave without me…." Josh threateningly shook his fist in Drake's direction, but the playboy merely waved him off, resuming his make-out session.

Sighing once more, the pudgy teen began ambling down the nearly-deserted hallways, grumbling to himself as he aimlessly roved.

"Make him touch it! He'll hate it!" yelped a male voice somewhere ahead of Josh. The blue-eyed teen paused and glanced around, but saw no one. Hysterical laughter reached Josh's ears from somewhere, but being unable to locate the source, Josh shrugged and proceeded in his stroll.

"Look! He's touching it! The little freak's touching it!" shouted another male voice.

Once more Josh halted, and finally he realized the voices must have been filtering into the corridor from the boys' bathroom. For a moment, he hesitated, gaping at the closed restroom door ahead, but as the gleeful guffaws carried on noisily, his conscience goaded him along. Clearly there was something amiss, and Josh felt it was his moral responsibility to humankind to put a stop to whatever cruelty was occurring.

Forcing on a brave façade, Josh marched towards the restroom, flung open the door, and paraded in, yelling, "Stop!"

A confused face poked out from one of the stalls, and Josh noticed there were at least four boys crammed into that stall.

"Ah, it's just Nichols," commented the boy who had peeked out, turning back to the others in the stall. "We can keep going."

Blinking, Josh shook his head. "What? No, you can't!"

"Come on, Nichols, join in the fun!" the boy said merrily, once more looking towards Josh. "Don't you wanna mess with the freak boy?"

"The freak boy…?"

One of the boys piped up suddenly, "Hey, Josh is just like the freak! They sit together at lunch!"

"Aw, probably having tea parties together!"

"Hey, Nichols, are you a germophobe too?"

"What?" Josh asked, now beyond perplexed, fear starting to mount within his chest.

"Freak boy here's a germophobe!" shrieked one of the guys happily as he exited the stall, coming slowly towards Josh. Another followed his lead. "He comes to the bathroom after every class to wash his hands, and after lunch too! Germophobia! So we're making him touch the toilets and the floors in here."

A third boy exited the stall, snickering. "Look, look, guys! The freak boy's, like, going into panic attack mode! He's spazzing out!"

The bullies gathered around the stall, and Josh, courage overtaking him completely, shoved past them so he too could look. He was horrified at the scene that met his gaze.

Madison was kneeling on the floor, facing the toilet, shaking as he stared at his hands. His clothing was splashed with what Josh supposed was toilet water, and some of his characteristic sparkly eye shadow was smeared. Nearly hyperventilating, Madison began whispering, "Oh, gosh, I—I—I must wash my hands…."

This only sent the boys further into hysterical laughter, and at last Josh freed himself from his daze. "Madison! Are you okay?" Launching himself into the stall, Josh grabbed Madison's shoulder, about to haul the trembling boy up, when Madison yelped, as though in pain.

"Don't touch me!" he howled, staggering to his feet desperately, closing his eyes. "Oh, I need to wash my hands! I'm—I'm…."

Despite Madison's pleas, Josh clasped his hand around the goth's arm and began forcibly dragging him from the restroom stall, past the laughing boys, and to the sink.

"Wash your hands!" Josh instructed, attempting to remain composed. Long ago had he guessed at Madison's true issue, and this incident was simply confirmation of his suspicions.

"Nichols, don't help the freak!" one of the boys yelled, yanking Josh towards him and away from the panicking Madison.

"Ah, leave Nichols alone," one boy protested. "He ain't the freak."

"If you hang with a freak, you automatically are one," countered the first boy, and before the other two could argue, he punched Josh's abdomen.

Through the surging pain that followed that, Josh heard a sink turn on and glanced up to see Madison scrubbing his hands furiously. Reacting quickly, one of the boys lunged at Madison and dragged him away from the sink, and immediately the wide-eyed Madison closed his eyes. "Help me!" he started screaming. "Help me! Oh gosh, I c-c-can't! Don't do this!"

"Yeah, don't do this!"

Josh and the bullies all turned, surprised, towards the doorway, in which stood a glowering Drake Parker. Smiling in relief, Josh wrenched himself from the bully's grasp and scurried towards his brother, confidently parroting, "Yeah, don't do this!"

After swiftly sizing up Josh and deciding he was fairly uninjured, Drake nodded towards the bullies, appearing satisfied. "Gentlemen, carry on."

"Wait, what?" gasped Josh.

"I saved you, so now we're leaving," Drake offered, pointing down the hallway.

"What about Madison?"

"What about Madison?"

Ignoring the stepbrothers, the bully continued dragging Madison across the bathroom until he had him pinned against a wall, holding him down by the shoulders.

"So what are you? Like, gay?" spat one of the bullies. "You wear this disgusting make-up."

"Oh, please," implored Madison desperately. "It's already smeared. But that's okay, that's okay, that's okay…."

The bully laughed. "The heck is wrong with this kid?"

"We need to help him!" Josh yelled at Drake, gesticulating towards Madison.

"Josh, just forget it," Drake insisted. "I told you not to get involved with nutters."

"Drake!" Growling in anger, Josh pivoted around, and, before he was able to truly realize the risk of his next move, Josh charged at the bully who had Madison pinned and slammed the boy in the spine with a fist.

"Ouch," Josh whined, rubbing his knuckles as the bully was forced forward into Madison, who yelped. Releasing the goth, the bully wheeled around and glared murderously at the black-haired youth. "You're dead, freak-in-training."

Abruptly, Josh was seized from behind by another of the bullies, and, despite his wild struggles, Josh was thrown headfirst against the wall. His skull made a loud crack as it collided with the hard surface, and as Josh crashed to the floor, fading into unconsciousness, he heard Drake's anguished voice calling his name.

000

Feeling groggy and somewhat lightheaded, Josh slowly awoke, opening his blue eyes to a scarcely lit room. He mused vaguely on where the scent of urine had gone, why the hardness of the bathroom floor had been replaced by cushiness, and what had happened to Madison.

Madison!

Snapping his eyes open, Josh shot up, then clamped a hand to his now-throbbing head. "Ow!"

"Josh!"

The black-haired boy felt the mattress beneath him sink down with the weight of a new person and looked up to see Drake kneeling on the edge of his bed, staring at him wide-eyed. "Dude, are you okay?"

"Mmm, um, yeah, I guess," Josh muttered. Surveying his surroundings, he recognized his shared bedroom and sank with a sigh into the comfort of his thick, soft mattress.

"Good. Apparently you don't have a concussion or anything either; do you remember that?"

"Remember what?"

"When you woke up before, and the doctor checked you out?"

"…No…."

"Do you remember waking up at all before? You always seemed so out of it. But you've woken up a few times."

"…No…."

Shrugging, Drake hopped off the bed and hustled towards the couch, vaulting himself over the back of it. "Okay, whatever." He picked up a video game controller and resumed a violent game, which Josh watched for a moment before registering something.

"Hey, Drake, why do you have bruises on your face?"

"And a cut lip," Drake pointed out proudly. "Well, after you got knocked out, I tried to fight those bullies, but three-on-one was no fair. I thought crazy Madison would try to help me, but no, instead he went running out of the bathroom first chance he got."

"…Really? Oh. You know, I really thought he was a good guy. I guess being picked on and being so lonely can really take its toll on a person…."

"…You know, maybe he is a good guy. 'Cause I thought he had just run away."

"But he hadn't?"

"When he left, he ran down to the school nurse and got her and a teacher, and they all three came down to break up the fight. So those bullies are all suspended and you, me, and Madison are off scott-free. Good deal, huh?"

"Wow. Yeah. So Madison really did that?"

"Yeah. So maybe he's a good guy, but he's still nuts. You never know with crazy people, Josh. They could just turn around and kill you at any moment."

"Uh, no, I don't think so, Drake. Besides, Madison's not crazy. He has OCD."

"…OCD?"

"Yeah. At least, I think. I mean, he has the rituals and stuff—like trying to cut the edge of his sandwich so it's perfectly straight—and then those bullies said he's a germophobe, which is a common thing for people with the disorder. So there you go. OCD. Not insanity."

Drake did not respond, and since he was unable to see the expression on his brother's bruised visage, Josh did not know Drake's feelings on this revelation.

"So is Madison okay?" Josh questioned.

"Yeah. I guess he went home. He said he was gonna shower."

"Cool. Hey, I think I'm gonna sleep now, mmkay?"

"Sounds good to me. It is, like, two in the morning. But I just want to finish this level, and then I'll go to bed. Or maybe I'll finish the level after that too…."

Happily, the final thing Josh remembered before drifting into this state of unconsciousness was the sound of his own laughter.

000

When Josh returned to school two days later, he was not surprised at Madison's absence, as he supposed the boy was in need of some mental recovery. But a week floated by, and then another, and then another, and finally, after a month without Madison, Josh was truly worried.

Asking a few students about Madison's whereabouts proved to be fruitless, as apparently the goth had not conversed with many other teens besides Josh, so the black-haired boy focused his search elsewhere. During his lunch break one afternoon, Josh strolled into the school's main office and after greeting the secretary, an elderly woman, he casually said, "I don't know if you could find out, but I was just wondering, do you happen to know if a student by the name of Madison—?"

Pausing, Josh realized he had no idea as to Madison's last name. Accepting defeat, he smiled at the secretary and shook his head. "Sorry, but never mind."

"Are you Josh?" asked the secretary. After Josh replied positively, the secretary started fishing around in a bottom drawer on her large desk. "You know, that boy, Madison Hawthorne, is the grandson of a friend of mine. She was afraid he might be mocked by fellow students due to his…habits…and I promised to look after him. Eventually he started checking in with me every morning, and he was such a pleasant young man, albeit a little quirky, but that was expected. Aha." Finding what she was searching for, the elderly woman pulled a tattered scrap of paper from her desk and handed it to Josh as she continued.

"Madison never mentioned any friends or acquaintances, but one day, he mentioned how there was a boy sitting with him at lunch now. After the incident a month ago, Madison's mother decided to move him to a different school, since he was being picked on, but he came in a couple weeks ago and asked me to give this note to the boy he sat with at lunch. The note was addressed to Josh, but I was never able to figure out which Josh. I apologize; I should have tried harder."

"Oh. Well, thank you very much," Josh said, opening the folded note as he turned to leave.

It read:

Josh—There were many times I wanted to die because I have to wear silver eyeshadow perfectly, and I have to tap my fingers while I eat, and I have to cut my sandwich edge flawlessly, and many more things. I wasn't sure if I should die or not. It was hard finding any indication of whether or not I should. But then I met you and we talked and you stood up for me. So now I've decided. I will not die. Thank you. –Madison

Startled, moved, Josh paused in his ambling down the corridor and reread the note carefully. 'I will not die.' 'I will not die.'

A pang of sadness resonated in Josh Nichols's heart that afternoon as he realized he would probably never see Madison again. At the thought that he could ask the secretary which school Madison now attended, Josh nearly backtracked to the office; he stopped himself. No. People enter our lives at just the right time, when they need us, or we need them, or we both need each other, Josh mused. And now he's left my life. I obviously helped him out. And he helped me. If only there was a way I could make 

people not be so judgmental! The suffering of Madison and other people is just awful…. Maybe I can't change other people, maybe I can; I can try. And what I can definitely do is make sure to watch my own conduct.

Smiling towards the heavens, Josh nodded a thank you, and, pocketing the note, continued towards the cafeteria, knowing it would be lonely due to the loss of a friend; yet it would be a friend and a lesson he would not soon forget.

End