Categories > Original > Drama > Beat of Their Own Drums
A/N: A'ight, you guys knew that a Rascal Flatts fan couldn't get too far into a songfic collection without this song. I tried something new, writing from Joe's point of view, and I'm not quite sure how it went. It seems wrong to make him depressed.
Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Holes"
Song Used: Rascal Flatts' "Holes"
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Fifty-Four: Holes
Puppet: Joseph Jonas
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There's three in the wall from those pictures in the closet,
Two in the bedroom from that night I lost it,
And one deep inside me determined to stay,
They don't get any bigger but they don't go away,
Holes in and around me I keep falling back into,
Holes dig in and surround me,
God knows what I'm gonna do,
To fill in these holes left by you,
Left by you...
I think everyone's a lot stronger than they think they are.
Take my brothers, for instance. Kevin always seemed so timid most of the time, but he led Nick and I whenever we weren't quite sure what to do like the eldest brother should. Nick always said that he couldn't live without his Paige and we believed him, and were naturally worried out of our minds when they broke up; but he was still breathing, still making it one day at a time. Even Frankie was a powerful kid; he was afraid of the dark, but when I dared him to go down into the basement without any lights, he did it because he wanted to impress his big brother.
I was stronger, too.
I really hadn't meant to punch those holes in the wall. It was Kevin's room, too, and I felt even worse than I had when I made the marks when he came in and saw me taking things out on the poor, defenseless wall. I can only imagine what he felt like, seeing that shattered glass from pictures laying all over the floor.
He probably thought I was crazy. Er...crazier...
But I couldn't help it. I really didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it. It was the only thing I could think of, the only thing I could do, the only thing I wanted to do. She'd hung up on me, told me never to call back, given up on me, shot a bullet through my heart...
How was I going to fix them all? I could patch up the wall, and I could clean up all the glass, but what about the one through my heart? “What am I gonna do about that one, Izzy!?” I howled at the ceiling, as if it would somehow answer all my questions.
“Joe!” Kevin snapped, taking hold of my shoulders from behind and giving me a rattle, “Take it easy, buddy!”
“Leave me alone!” I hissed back, wrenching free and rounding on my brother, “Just leave me alone!”
“Joe,” he said my name again, softer this time, “what's the matter with you?”
I tightened my hands into fists and had to hold myself back from launching myself at him, out of my right mind for the moment. Kevin seemed to know that he was in danger, but he didn't flinch. “What's the matter?” he repeated.
I poured drink after drink but nothing hit bottom,
I've been on my knees admitted my problems,
The love that we made still barely an echo,
I'll try anything in these vacant hollows...
It wasn't fair! I'd given her so much of my time, so much of my so-called boundless energy, so much of my soul, and she'd just left me! Over a phone call! There wasn't a good reason for it. There wasn't a real reason for it.
Or, at least, that's what I'd been thinking when I punched the wall.
I stared wide-eyed at Kevin, unable to find the words in my vocabulary to explain any of that, in a whole or just a part, to him. He didn't know anything about how I was feeling right now. He didn't know that Izzy had broken up with me about a week ago. He didn't know that I was feeling empty. He didn't know anything at all.
He blinked and cautiously put an arm about my shoulders. “C'mon,” he murmured, brotherly concern written all over his face as it usually was, “just relax. Sit down. I'll get you some water.”
So confused, so disconnected was I that I found myself wondering what the water would be for. Was he going to use it to wash the blood off my hands? They'd been cut up by the broken glass. Was he going to make me drink it? My throat felt dry and a drink, any kind of drink, preferably one that would help me forget all of this, sounded good.
Or was he just making up some excuse so he could go tell mom and dad that Joe finally lost his marbles? As soon as that thought occurred to me I felt myself bristling with resistance, but he sat me down on one of the big, over-sized bean bags we had with such force I didn't move.
“Ya' know what? Never mind that.” Kevin said, shaking his head and flopping down on the one next to me. He peered at me steadily, as if he was trying to put himself into my head and discover what it was that made me try to go all Hulk angry.
I stared at him for a long time and he stared back, neither one of us wanting to back down. I didn't want to give in because looking away would show that I was uncomfortable, and I still wanted to be angry at everything. I wasn't sure why he wanted to start a staring contest, but I think it must've been because he was trying to show me that I was stuck.
“Izzy's gone.” I murmured after a long, long silence, slumping back into the 'chair.'
Surprise flickered in his eyes for just a moment and I looked away, not wanting to look my brother in the eye. “Wait; gone like, dead gone? Or -”
I shook my head miserably. “Gone,” I repeated, the word tasting like poison on my lips, “like pumpkin pie after Nick's done with it.”
I laughed scornfully at my own joke. That was what I did; crack jokes. I couldn't escape that part of who I was, no matter how hurt I might've been, and I hated it. What if Kevin thought this wasn't as serious as it was, all because of a dumb joke I made?
Holes in and around me I keep falling into,
Holes dig in and surround me,
God knows what I'm gonna do,
To fill in these holes left by you,
Left by you...
“Do you mind me asking why?” Kevin prodded, his voice calm and soothing as ever. I couldn't help but think of the times when Nick and I were much younger and how he'd used that same tone whenever one of us was upset; he'd always been there, whether we liked it or not.
“She...doesn't think I trust her,” I muttered, running my fingers through my hair and realizing just how matted and greasy it was, “said she didn't want me to keep calling her and checking up like I was her dad or something.”
Kevin chuckled knowingly, even though a smarter kid would've known that I wouldn't have appreciated that. “It's that independent streak you gotta look out for,” he said, and I caught a smile out of the corner of my eye, “that's those Rokit girls for ya'.”
“Izzy's not a Rokit.” I pointed out sourly, scowling at him. Izzy had lost her parents in a fire when she was around eleven years old and had been adopted by the Rokit family, so technically, it was true.
“I know.” My brother replied calmly.
“You're no help!”
That was the end of that conversation.
We sat in silence then, and I found my eyes drawn to the Converse on my feet as if they could comfort me. In reality, though, they made it worse; all those drawings of tiny palm trees and miniature waves...she'd drawn them all there. The first week or so before college started we'd gone up to Hawaii together, just so I could meet some of her old friends and rest assured that she would be safe.
I hadn't been, but it was comforting to know she had people there who cared about her.
And then there'd been that night on the beach...
“K-Kevin?” I asked, my voice shaking with apprehension.
“Yeah, Joe?”
I chewed nervously on my lower lip, anxious and unsure if I really wanted to tell him about this. My breath shook but I managed to steady it, drawing in a deep breath. I slipped the purity ring I'd once been so proud to wear and showed it to him, tears brimming my eyes. “She told me...promised we could trade it in later,” I found myself chuckling at something that wasn't really all that funny, “she said she'd marry me, Kev.”
The first emotion I saw was relief; he'd obviously been horrified when I went for my ring, probably thinking I'd done something incredibly stupid.
There's two through my hands and one through my feet,
From this cross that I bare to the day that I see,
Its guilt and its blame, its shame and its love,
Seeking the truth, I dug them myself...
Then his face softened sympathetically. “And now she's broken the promise?”
I shook my head, all the fury I'd had just a few minutes before drained from my very core. It wasn't her fault that that soft spoken promise by the surf was never going to happen; it was mine, and now I'd always have these holes to remind me of it. “I'm not angry at her, if that's what you're thinking,” I mumbled, “it's not really her fault.”
“You looked pretty angry a few minutes ago.”
I shot him a look. “Has anyone ever told you that you should be a psychiatrist?”
He looked back at me without flinching. “A couple of times.” He said evenly.
I rolled my eyes skyward, not in the mood to fight with him for once in my life. “I'm not angry at her,” I repeated firmly, “I...I just...”
It had been my fault, but to admit to that seemed so out of character. Yes, I'd chosen to ignore her pleas for independence and now I had to pay for it and yes, I'd shown her that I didn't trust her enough to take care of herself and now I had to face the consequences. But Kevin knew, as well as I did, that I hated to admit to being wrong.
But if I didn't fess up now, I was going to have to carry it around with me for who knows how long.
Ohhh these holes dig in and surround me,
God knows what I'm gonna do,
To fill in these holes left by you,
Left by you...
“I just wish she'd let me tell her I'm sorry,” I said finally, gathering up the courage to look my older brother in the eyes, “I kept trying to, but she wouldn't let me explain myself.”
Kevin said nothing. His eyes were drawn over to the holes I'd made in the wall, but I knew he was listening because he was nodding slightly. I actually found myself wishing he would say something reassuring like, “don't worry, she'll come around eventually.”
But he didn't.
“I was just worried about her, ya' know?” I decided that if he wasn't going to say anything, I was going to do everything in my power to keep another silence away, “She's got that knack for getting into trouble...”
I smiled a little despite myself. She'd fallen out of a tree and broken her arm once...played hockey and was checked into the wall, dislocating her shoulder...
Left by you...
But it hurt, remembering.
I really didn't want to cry just in general. Boys weren't supposed to cry, I knew; it was a well known fact of society. We were supposed to be rough and tumble, ready for anything, and emotionless to some point. To cry was to show weakness, and that went against everything boys were supposed to be, didn't it?
I really didn't want to cry, especially in front of my older brother. He had seen it more than enough when we were little, and it was a matter of protecting one's pride for an older boy to cry while in plain sight of another guy.
But I cried anyway.
It was really more of an accident, really. Once I started revisiting old memories it was impossible to stop; it was like being swarmed by an army, every recalled image or quote being a soldier armed with something unbelievably sharp. They jabbed at my heart and soul, creating many more tiny holes around the bigger one that she'd created by leaving.
The day I'd met her, when she'd been looking at me with the most awestruck look on her face at meeting all three of the Jonas Brothers. The moment on IM when she accidentally slipped and said she liked me, and I'd brazenly returned the sentiment in front of our friends. The night she and I had meandered away from a food fight and kissed under the tree in her backyard; I'd lied, using the old trick of saying she had some whipped cream on her cheek...
The day she'd entrusted me with the information that she was adopted, when I'd held her and told her that she could always tell me anything. The time I had to leave for a tour and only after I left I decided I needed to tell her something, and abashedly called and said those three little words. The day when she told me she was leaving for college, and how I'd been heartbroken but willing to say goodbye if it was something she really wanted to do...
I couldn't help it. It hurt. It was the body's natural instinct to cry when faced with extreme pain, and I was too discombobulated to be able to fight them back.
And still Kevin didn't move or say anything. He sat, silent as a stone statue, watching me while I crumbled into tears.
I wanted him to say something, do something, anything but just sit there and watch me, but I didn't want to speak. No doubt it would only make things worse and I'd never be able to look him square in the face again, much less talk to him.
“I'm gonna see what I can do about these holes, Joe.” he said finally, standing up and patting my shoulder comfortingly.
“Yeah,” I muttered, “me too.”
Left by you.
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A/N: I really liked having Kevin there. If you haven't noticed already, I love having him be the one who comes and talks to his younger brothers and have him play the 'sibling shrink' role. I think it's fun, don't you?
Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Holes"
Song Used: Rascal Flatts' "Holes"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fifty-Four: Holes
Puppet: Joseph Jonas
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There's three in the wall from those pictures in the closet,
Two in the bedroom from that night I lost it,
And one deep inside me determined to stay,
They don't get any bigger but they don't go away,
Holes in and around me I keep falling back into,
Holes dig in and surround me,
God knows what I'm gonna do,
To fill in these holes left by you,
Left by you...
I think everyone's a lot stronger than they think they are.
Take my brothers, for instance. Kevin always seemed so timid most of the time, but he led Nick and I whenever we weren't quite sure what to do like the eldest brother should. Nick always said that he couldn't live without his Paige and we believed him, and were naturally worried out of our minds when they broke up; but he was still breathing, still making it one day at a time. Even Frankie was a powerful kid; he was afraid of the dark, but when I dared him to go down into the basement without any lights, he did it because he wanted to impress his big brother.
I was stronger, too.
I really hadn't meant to punch those holes in the wall. It was Kevin's room, too, and I felt even worse than I had when I made the marks when he came in and saw me taking things out on the poor, defenseless wall. I can only imagine what he felt like, seeing that shattered glass from pictures laying all over the floor.
He probably thought I was crazy. Er...crazier...
But I couldn't help it. I really didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it. It was the only thing I could think of, the only thing I could do, the only thing I wanted to do. She'd hung up on me, told me never to call back, given up on me, shot a bullet through my heart...
How was I going to fix them all? I could patch up the wall, and I could clean up all the glass, but what about the one through my heart? “What am I gonna do about that one, Izzy!?” I howled at the ceiling, as if it would somehow answer all my questions.
“Joe!” Kevin snapped, taking hold of my shoulders from behind and giving me a rattle, “Take it easy, buddy!”
“Leave me alone!” I hissed back, wrenching free and rounding on my brother, “Just leave me alone!”
“Joe,” he said my name again, softer this time, “what's the matter with you?”
I tightened my hands into fists and had to hold myself back from launching myself at him, out of my right mind for the moment. Kevin seemed to know that he was in danger, but he didn't flinch. “What's the matter?” he repeated.
I poured drink after drink but nothing hit bottom,
I've been on my knees admitted my problems,
The love that we made still barely an echo,
I'll try anything in these vacant hollows...
It wasn't fair! I'd given her so much of my time, so much of my so-called boundless energy, so much of my soul, and she'd just left me! Over a phone call! There wasn't a good reason for it. There wasn't a real reason for it.
Or, at least, that's what I'd been thinking when I punched the wall.
I stared wide-eyed at Kevin, unable to find the words in my vocabulary to explain any of that, in a whole or just a part, to him. He didn't know anything about how I was feeling right now. He didn't know that Izzy had broken up with me about a week ago. He didn't know that I was feeling empty. He didn't know anything at all.
He blinked and cautiously put an arm about my shoulders. “C'mon,” he murmured, brotherly concern written all over his face as it usually was, “just relax. Sit down. I'll get you some water.”
So confused, so disconnected was I that I found myself wondering what the water would be for. Was he going to use it to wash the blood off my hands? They'd been cut up by the broken glass. Was he going to make me drink it? My throat felt dry and a drink, any kind of drink, preferably one that would help me forget all of this, sounded good.
Or was he just making up some excuse so he could go tell mom and dad that Joe finally lost his marbles? As soon as that thought occurred to me I felt myself bristling with resistance, but he sat me down on one of the big, over-sized bean bags we had with such force I didn't move.
“Ya' know what? Never mind that.” Kevin said, shaking his head and flopping down on the one next to me. He peered at me steadily, as if he was trying to put himself into my head and discover what it was that made me try to go all Hulk angry.
I stared at him for a long time and he stared back, neither one of us wanting to back down. I didn't want to give in because looking away would show that I was uncomfortable, and I still wanted to be angry at everything. I wasn't sure why he wanted to start a staring contest, but I think it must've been because he was trying to show me that I was stuck.
“Izzy's gone.” I murmured after a long, long silence, slumping back into the 'chair.'
Surprise flickered in his eyes for just a moment and I looked away, not wanting to look my brother in the eye. “Wait; gone like, dead gone? Or -”
I shook my head miserably. “Gone,” I repeated, the word tasting like poison on my lips, “like pumpkin pie after Nick's done with it.”
I laughed scornfully at my own joke. That was what I did; crack jokes. I couldn't escape that part of who I was, no matter how hurt I might've been, and I hated it. What if Kevin thought this wasn't as serious as it was, all because of a dumb joke I made?
Holes in and around me I keep falling into,
Holes dig in and surround me,
God knows what I'm gonna do,
To fill in these holes left by you,
Left by you...
“Do you mind me asking why?” Kevin prodded, his voice calm and soothing as ever. I couldn't help but think of the times when Nick and I were much younger and how he'd used that same tone whenever one of us was upset; he'd always been there, whether we liked it or not.
“She...doesn't think I trust her,” I muttered, running my fingers through my hair and realizing just how matted and greasy it was, “said she didn't want me to keep calling her and checking up like I was her dad or something.”
Kevin chuckled knowingly, even though a smarter kid would've known that I wouldn't have appreciated that. “It's that independent streak you gotta look out for,” he said, and I caught a smile out of the corner of my eye, “that's those Rokit girls for ya'.”
“Izzy's not a Rokit.” I pointed out sourly, scowling at him. Izzy had lost her parents in a fire when she was around eleven years old and had been adopted by the Rokit family, so technically, it was true.
“I know.” My brother replied calmly.
“You're no help!”
That was the end of that conversation.
We sat in silence then, and I found my eyes drawn to the Converse on my feet as if they could comfort me. In reality, though, they made it worse; all those drawings of tiny palm trees and miniature waves...she'd drawn them all there. The first week or so before college started we'd gone up to Hawaii together, just so I could meet some of her old friends and rest assured that she would be safe.
I hadn't been, but it was comforting to know she had people there who cared about her.
And then there'd been that night on the beach...
“K-Kevin?” I asked, my voice shaking with apprehension.
“Yeah, Joe?”
I chewed nervously on my lower lip, anxious and unsure if I really wanted to tell him about this. My breath shook but I managed to steady it, drawing in a deep breath. I slipped the purity ring I'd once been so proud to wear and showed it to him, tears brimming my eyes. “She told me...promised we could trade it in later,” I found myself chuckling at something that wasn't really all that funny, “she said she'd marry me, Kev.”
The first emotion I saw was relief; he'd obviously been horrified when I went for my ring, probably thinking I'd done something incredibly stupid.
There's two through my hands and one through my feet,
From this cross that I bare to the day that I see,
Its guilt and its blame, its shame and its love,
Seeking the truth, I dug them myself...
Then his face softened sympathetically. “And now she's broken the promise?”
I shook my head, all the fury I'd had just a few minutes before drained from my very core. It wasn't her fault that that soft spoken promise by the surf was never going to happen; it was mine, and now I'd always have these holes to remind me of it. “I'm not angry at her, if that's what you're thinking,” I mumbled, “it's not really her fault.”
“You looked pretty angry a few minutes ago.”
I shot him a look. “Has anyone ever told you that you should be a psychiatrist?”
He looked back at me without flinching. “A couple of times.” He said evenly.
I rolled my eyes skyward, not in the mood to fight with him for once in my life. “I'm not angry at her,” I repeated firmly, “I...I just...”
It had been my fault, but to admit to that seemed so out of character. Yes, I'd chosen to ignore her pleas for independence and now I had to pay for it and yes, I'd shown her that I didn't trust her enough to take care of herself and now I had to face the consequences. But Kevin knew, as well as I did, that I hated to admit to being wrong.
But if I didn't fess up now, I was going to have to carry it around with me for who knows how long.
Ohhh these holes dig in and surround me,
God knows what I'm gonna do,
To fill in these holes left by you,
Left by you...
“I just wish she'd let me tell her I'm sorry,” I said finally, gathering up the courage to look my older brother in the eyes, “I kept trying to, but she wouldn't let me explain myself.”
Kevin said nothing. His eyes were drawn over to the holes I'd made in the wall, but I knew he was listening because he was nodding slightly. I actually found myself wishing he would say something reassuring like, “don't worry, she'll come around eventually.”
But he didn't.
“I was just worried about her, ya' know?” I decided that if he wasn't going to say anything, I was going to do everything in my power to keep another silence away, “She's got that knack for getting into trouble...”
I smiled a little despite myself. She'd fallen out of a tree and broken her arm once...played hockey and was checked into the wall, dislocating her shoulder...
Left by you...
But it hurt, remembering.
I really didn't want to cry just in general. Boys weren't supposed to cry, I knew; it was a well known fact of society. We were supposed to be rough and tumble, ready for anything, and emotionless to some point. To cry was to show weakness, and that went against everything boys were supposed to be, didn't it?
I really didn't want to cry, especially in front of my older brother. He had seen it more than enough when we were little, and it was a matter of protecting one's pride for an older boy to cry while in plain sight of another guy.
But I cried anyway.
It was really more of an accident, really. Once I started revisiting old memories it was impossible to stop; it was like being swarmed by an army, every recalled image or quote being a soldier armed with something unbelievably sharp. They jabbed at my heart and soul, creating many more tiny holes around the bigger one that she'd created by leaving.
The day I'd met her, when she'd been looking at me with the most awestruck look on her face at meeting all three of the Jonas Brothers. The moment on IM when she accidentally slipped and said she liked me, and I'd brazenly returned the sentiment in front of our friends. The night she and I had meandered away from a food fight and kissed under the tree in her backyard; I'd lied, using the old trick of saying she had some whipped cream on her cheek...
The day she'd entrusted me with the information that she was adopted, when I'd held her and told her that she could always tell me anything. The time I had to leave for a tour and only after I left I decided I needed to tell her something, and abashedly called and said those three little words. The day when she told me she was leaving for college, and how I'd been heartbroken but willing to say goodbye if it was something she really wanted to do...
I couldn't help it. It hurt. It was the body's natural instinct to cry when faced with extreme pain, and I was too discombobulated to be able to fight them back.
And still Kevin didn't move or say anything. He sat, silent as a stone statue, watching me while I crumbled into tears.
I wanted him to say something, do something, anything but just sit there and watch me, but I didn't want to speak. No doubt it would only make things worse and I'd never be able to look him square in the face again, much less talk to him.
“I'm gonna see what I can do about these holes, Joe.” he said finally, standing up and patting my shoulder comfortingly.
“Yeah,” I muttered, “me too.”
Left by you.
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A/N: I really liked having Kevin there. If you haven't noticed already, I love having him be the one who comes and talks to his younger brothers and have him play the 'sibling shrink' role. I think it's fun, don't you?
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