Author's Note: I don't own The Suite Life or any of the characters except for Casey and Mason and Mrs. Bolter. Erm, I have actually no idea where I was trying to go with this fiction. It's not amazing, I'm sorry. I hope you'll forgive me, but read it and tell me what you think, ok?

Warnings: Suicide

Dedication: This fiction is actually a birthday fiction for Sketchy Ghost that I started back in July but couldn't figure out what to do with it. So it's a super, super late fiction, (I'm sorry buddy), but perhaps once you read this and understand the message I've tried to convey, it will help. Maybe not. Oh well.

-

Sometimes people do things that are unexplainable. Unexplainable, unforgivable, unforgettable. And then when the others stand around them, unsure, they wonder if they could have stopped it. If it was their faults, if they could have changed that life that didn't make the person choose that road.

Some people will never be exposed to that, the heartbreaking decisions that could have been. That could have been changed. That could have been stable. That could have not been lost and still present.

Zack Martin was one of those people who it did touch. Who it did attack, and rip out from under him when he least expected. And when he saw what could have been, and thought maybe he could have stopped it, he was afraid. Afraid to believe. Afraid to think. Afraid to live.

"Dude," Zack looks down at the silent hallway. The usually rowdy aisle of his high school was quiet—strangely quiet, almost deadly quiet. He walks down the hall glancing casually to the side every once in awhile. He sees one girl crying, and looks worriedly at his brother. "Something's wrong today. What's going on?"

Cody looks nervously back at him, his fingers grasping onto his backpack strap as he flicks his head to get rid of the strand of blonde hair in his eyes. "I don't know." He bites his lip, something he tends to do when he is anxious.

Zack follows his brother into their English class, even more alarmed when he sees his usually noisy classmates sitting subdued at their seats.

"Dude, what happened?" he asks the first person he sees. Bob.

Bob's usually cheerful, freckled face is creased with worry. "I don't know—I heard rumors about a school shooting or something, but I doubt it. It's pretty safe here, you know."

Before he can say anything else, Mrs. Bolter enters the room, her face the epitome of seriousness. "Children, sit down."

The teens in the room sit down, looking rather shocked. They've never seen Mrs. Bolter—their usually fun-loving English teacher—so stern. Mrs. Bolter's face rests, ridding itself of the tenseness, as she looks at the kids. "I'm sorry you guys." The students relax, more used to this side of Mrs. Bolter.

"I think it's well known that at this school we value our students," Mrs. Bolter starts. There was a collective murmur from the students as Mrs. Bolter continues. "I have to say I was deeply shocked to hear that Casey Gibbons committed suicide last night. She shot herself, caught up in the moment of depression. I think we should take a moment to recognize how much this has impacted us all and what strength she must have had when she finally… killed herself. I cannot say for certain Casey is in a better place right now, but I certainly hope so," Mrs. Bolter's voice chokes up with emotion and she stops in mid-sentence, wiping a tear away from her eye. "Now, please, children, please don't do anything like that; it's throwing your life away, and I hope Casey will be missed. And that's about it—please do not lack sensitivity, be kind to those who knew Casey well… please, children—please. Respect her, respect yourself, but please be smart enough not to do what she did."

She sighs, her voice choking with tears, and then stops, opening a textbook on her desk. "Let's start the lesson for today now."

Zack squeezes the side of his desk hard, feeling the hard surface under his fingers. How can they just start the lesson now—a student has just died… my God, where is the sensitivity? How can they just move on like that, faster than it took Casey to pull the trigger and empty the bullet into her head? What…

He looks helplessly around at the other students who have quietly pulled out their textbooks, opening it to the assigned page.

His vision fogs before him, his fingers tremble, he can't breathe now, trying to understand why… why someone would do something like that. He wonders vaguely if he could have stopped her, stopped Casey—maybe by saying something nice, by being her friend. He could have stopped her from… ridding herself, from being… gone.

He suddenly has to vomit and he leaves the room.

In the bathroom, the silence echoes around him as he pukes into the toilet. His insides tear, and his nose runs with mucus as his eyes burn. He wipes his sleeve across his face, using toilet paper to rid his tears.

Pushing the stall door open when he finishes, he walks to the sink. The water feels so cool and refreshing against his heated face, and he just stands there, letting the trickles run over his skin. He stares at himself in the mirror, looking at his reflection in the water droplets that have landed on the glass. His figure is warped; does he truly look like that now? Is this the individual inside of him?

There is a sniffle, and he turns to see who it is. Mason Sayer is propped up against the wall, his eyes completely lost. Clutched in his right hand is a letter that is held so hard it is in danger of ripping, and with a pang, Zack remembers that Mason was Casey's boyfriend. He steps forward, about to offer his condolences, but he has no idea what to say, so instead he walks away.

And he can't forgive himself for it.

That is why later that night, Zack can't stop thinking of all that has happened. How a girl his age ended her life and he is still here. Why is it that he is content with his life, yet another person who is exactly like him isn't?

He can't focus on his homework, he can't focus on dinner. Even later as he bleakly brushes his teeth in front of the mirror, he can't seem to understand what he's doing until a streak of toothpaste runs across his cheek. In the other room, his brother is explaining to his mom what happened, and Zack doesn't want to get involved.

He washes his face and climbs into his bed without telling his mom "good night."

Shortly after, Cody gets into his bed, and the night is full of his soft snores.

Yet Zack stays awake.

He wonders how his twin can just sleep, how this incident of today doesn't affect his brother the way it affects him. How he can be impacted so hard and Cody remains oblivious.

He lays under his covers, feeling his heart race, and it seems like an hour he just thinks blindly about Casey and how he wishes he could have stopped it.

This leads him to get out of bed and climb onto his brother's. He pushes lightly on Cody's sleeping form, and Cody makes an unintelligible noise as he gets into an upright position and looks at his twin with bleary eyes. "What?"

"I… I'm sorry," Zack stumbles, and then starts to climb off his brother's bed, afraid to disturb his twin.

"No," Cody mutters, "I'm sorry, I…" he grabs Zack's arm and pulls him back onto his bed. "What do you need?" He rubs his eyes groggily and studies his twin.

"Why…" Zack stutters for the words, and then just blurts out what's on his mind. "Why did Casey kill herself?"

"I…" For once his younger brother is at a loss for words. He moves his body around on his bed and studies Zack. "I don't know," he admits.

"Do you think we could've stopped it?" Zack wants to know, but the real question is, Is it my fault?

"I don't think so," Cody tells him honestly. "I don't think anything we could've done would've convinced her otherwise."

There is silence as Zack struggles to grasp the concept that Casey's death isn't due to him. Yet he still can't help but think perhaps he could've done something…

All the sudden he needs to feel some security. "You wouldn't kill yourself, would you Cody?"

Cody stares at him, rather astonished. "You think I'd do something like that?"

"I… uh…" Zack pulls his brother's blanket in his hands absentmindedly, "I don't know." His voice cracks slightly as he reveals how truly confused he is. "I don't know."

"I can assure you that I'd never do something that stupid," Cody tells him. He takes one of his brother's hands in his. "I'd never do that."

"Thank God," Zack's voice breaks again, and he pulls his brother closer to him, finally being able to let out his feelings. He cries softly, and Cody only runs his hands over Zack's back, whispering out comforts.

"It's ok," Cody tells him, "it's ok."

And somehow in his brother's arms, Zack grasps that perhaps it is ok. Sometimes life doesn't make any sense, and sometimes it rambles on and takes away people who don't deserve it, but it's consistent in its flaws and people.

And then he understands why Casey rid herself. Because she felt as if there was no one else there to help her anymore, anyone to aid her through her troubles. But Zack has Cody. And maybe it will be easy because he has Cody there with him.

-

Review, please?

-Finn