Blood in the Bathroom by Rose Haze

Disclaimer: I do not own The Suite Life of Zack and Cody

Author's Note: Hey people. This story… it's not going where I want it to go. It's just not happening the way I wanted it to. This chapter… I don't know where it came from. I usually don't use outlines when I write long works of fiction because I find them to be so paralyzing. But I really wish I knew what I was doing with this story. Ahhh, enough of that. PM me if you're feeling charitable and want to let me vent my writing sorrows to you /

This chapter is dedicated to Bekll0Bella who is a very awesome and insightful reviewer. Words cannot describe how much I appreciate her criticisms and corrections and praise. This is my thanks : )

Chapter Four

Bleeding Through Seams

"Devil boy, what have you done?"- 7Mary3

Zack drifted in and out of a dreamless sleep as the force of his crying slowly drifted away. He opened his eyes and saw the late afternoon sunlight casting yellow rays through the window. He sat up, planning to get out of bed, and then the memories of his test grade came flooding back in, making him curl up in bed and force himself back to sleep. The last thing he heard was the phone ring before his mind went blank.

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Carey glanced at Cody from the kitchen. He was lounging on the couch reading a book, looking perfectly content. She sighed and went back to stirring the spaghetti.

She knew that as Zack got older she was going to have problems with him. He was stubborn and had a serious issue with following any sort of rule. And he got so angry sometimes. For awhile she worried that he was going to have the same anger management problems as his father.

'I never expected this,' she thought sadly as she added cilantro to the sauce. Zack rarely got mad about anything anymore. And that bothered her. She never thought she would miss the days of Zack causing trouble in the Tipton lobby or picking on Cody. 'He's so apathetic these days,' she mused, 'it's like he doesn't care about anything anymore—including himself.

Carey put a timer on the oven, then went to the couch and sat next to Cody.

"Let's talk," she said without preamble.

Cody looked up, "About what?" he asked, not putting the book down.

"Zack."

He sighed, placed a bookmark between the pages he was reading, and then set the book on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"I don't know what his problem is," Cody said, with anger on the edges of his voice, "I help him study, I practically did our entire project all by myself, and I keep our room clean and he doesn't appreciate any of it."

He finished with a huff and marveled in the fact that he managed to go from sounding like a normal teenager to sounding like an ignored housewife in the span of ten seconds.

"Do you think there's a reason he's been acting this way?"

"Because he's Zack," Cody replied, slightly annoyed, "He always thinks he can just glide through life without working at anything, but it doesn't work that way."

Carey rested her forehead in her hands, "I know you're mad that he blew up at you earlier," she said, "but I'm getting worried about him. He's been acting so different lately."

Cody bit his lip. The resentment he was feeling toward Zack vanished, and he began to feel sort of nervous.

"Maybe he's just stressed about school and stuff," he offered.

"You're probably right," Carey said softly. She didn't think it was that simple, but she realized that maybe Cody wasn't the best person for her to be discussing this with. For one thing, she did not want to worry him over something that could be nothing more than teen hormones. And beside that, she knew that Zack was the person she needed to be talking to.

The phone rang, interrupting the conversation that was on the verge of ending.

Cody leapt up from his seat on the chair and bounded toward the telephone, "Hello?" he asked eagerly.

Carey watched as his face fell.

"Yeah," he said glumly, "here she is."

Cody brought the phone over to his mom.

"Hello?" Carey asked.

"Hello, Mrs. Martin," the caller replied, "This is Jeff Cooper, Zack and Cody's history teacher."

"Oh," Carey said, trying to hide the surprise in her voice. It had been awhile since she received a call from the boys' school. It had not been long ago when she was getting calls pretty much everyday, from teachers complaining about Zack's behavior. He was always calling out in class, slacking off, and playing pranks. He even went as far as to trick the teachers into transferring him into a class where he thought he wouldn't have to do as much work. But recently, the calls stopped. Zack seemed to be doing better in school. Or was he?

"I'm calling about Zack's grades," Mr. Cooper continued, "He's in serious danger of failing History."

Cody watched his mother's face apprehensively. He recognized Mr. Cooper's voice when he called, and he had a pretty good idea about why he was calling.

Cody shook his head and walked out of the living room and into his bedroom. He was greeted by Zack's soft cries.

"Zack," he said, standing at the closed door, "What's the matter?"

He waited for an answer that never came.

"Zack," he said again, walking toward his bed, "come on, this is getting really old."

He sat down at the edge of the bed and looked at his brother. His heart skipped a beat when he saw why Zack wasn't answering him.

'He's sleeping.'

Cody looked around the room they shared. As usual, his side was cleaner. Everything was put away in its designated place. His bed was made, the sheets folded military style. It looked immaculate. But something was wrong.

Zack's side of the room was usually so messy that it was impossible to walk without stepping on clothes or magazines or CD cases or old textbooks or whatever else he had strewn on the ground. But it wasn't like that now… it was clean. Cody cleaned it the previous weekend.

"I should be happy," Cody muttered softly as he tried to ignore Zack's unconscious cries, "This means I won't have to do it all over next weekend."

But something felt wrong about it. And after a second of contemplation, Cody figured out what that was. Zack never did anything anymore except sleep. He was too busy dreaming life away to mess up his side of the room.

Cody looked down at Zack again and frowned. Tears were slipping down the sides of Zack's cheeks and he was whimpering quietly. Cody shook his shoulder, "Zack?" he asked softly, "Wake up."

Zack opened his eyes at the sound of Cody's voice. He did not even notice the tears staining his cheeks.

"What?"

Cody furrowed his brow, "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying; I'm sleeping," he brought his hand to his cheek and felt the wetness. He lowered his eyes, "oh."

"Another nightmare?"

Zack sat up, "I guess. I don't remember it though."

"Was it the same as yesterday?" Cody asked.

"How should I know?" Zack snapped, "I said I don't remember."

Cody rolled his eyes and stood up from Zack's bed, "Whatever," he said, "But you should know that Mr. Cooper's on the phone with Mom right now."

Zack climbed out of his bed, "So?"

He walked to the door. He was going to take a shower.

"So he's probably telling her about the history test you studied so hard for right now."

Zack stopped. He whirled around to face Cody, "Why did you say that?"

"Say what?"

He clenched his teeth, "Why did you say it like that—like you don't believe I studied for it. You know I studied! You were there, remember?"

His voice was growing louder with each word.

Cody averted his eyes.

"Forget it," Zack muttered. He walked through the living room to get to the bathroom. His mom was hanging the phone up.

"Zack," Carey said when she saw him, "We need to talk."

Zack froze.

"Come sit down," she said, patting the space next to her on the couch.

Zack took a few tentative steps and sat beside her.

"I just got off the phone with your teacher," she said sternly, "Mr. Cooper told me you're failing his class."

Silence.

"Do you have anything to say?" Carey asked.

He shook his head.

"Zack, this is serious," she said exasperatedly, "You could get held back if you don't bring your grades up immediately."

"I can get extra credit," he whispered, "and the project Cody and I did is worth a lot of the final grade."

Carey brushed a piece of lint off her blue Editor Pants, "That's something else I wanted to talk to you about," she said seriously, "You need to stop being so dependent on Cody for your schoolwork. You always expect him to help you with your homework and studying and—,"

"He offers to help," Zack interrupted, feeling defensive all of the sudden, "I haven't made him do my homework since like, last year at least."

Carey couldn't help but smirk, "Well that's definitely a step in the right direction."

"Look," he said, standing up, "I know I'm not perfect like Cody, but I'm trying. I don't know why I failed that stupid test, okay? I studied really hard for it, but then when I got to school I forgot everything."

Carey's expression softened, "I never said anything about Cody being perfect, Zack," she said.

"I have to take a shower," Zack said, dropping the subject. He turned his back on his mom and stormed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He turned the shower faucet on and changed out of his clothes.

He stepped into the shower. Scalding hot water flowed out of the shower head. Warm tears flowed out of his eyes.

"I can't do this,' he though desperately as the steam fogged up the shower door. He thought about what was happening to his life. On the outside he seemed normal. Nobody had noticed anything was different with him except for Cody and now his mom. It had taken them long enough to see that he was changing. For awhile Zack was able to hold himself together. He was able to put up a façade that hid how he was truly feeling. But now everything was falling apart. His emotions were like his tears, bleeding out of his body. They were an old coat of paint, seen through the chipped off, newer layer.

Heaving gasps escaped from his lips as he tried not to cry. He tried not to think about school. He tried not to think about how it felt like his family was moving on through life, leaving him behind. He tried not to think about how he could not seem to feel anything but sadness, no matter what happened.

He tried not to think about the fact that he hated himself.

To Be Continued

Up Next: Chapter Five: Happily Ever After

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