Chapter 10! As promised, this is where Zack visits Cody. This is also where a little more is revealed about George. Sorry it's so long; it's over 5,000 words.

Hope you like it! Please review!

Also, just so everything is clear, this story is NOT about twincest. Twincest has nothing to do with this story; it's just about a strong brotherly bond between Zack and Cody. I thought I should mention that. :)

Lastly, I thought you might like to know: Dr. Maps will return in the next chapter.

"So what happened out there?" Cody asked George, who now had a small, white bandage over the bridge of his nose.

"This punk came over to me and offered to pull his dick out," George told him indifferently. "He wanted me to blow him."

Cody looked at him incredulously. "Blow him? Like, suck his…?"

"Yeah, that's what blow him means."

"Well yeah, but…he wanted you to do it right then and there?"

"Yep."

Cody couldn't wrap his head around this. That big, brawny football player looking dude wanted George to give him a blow job? "You say that so casually."

George shrugged. "Ah, shit like that happens around here all the time. You gotta remember, the guys in this place are crazy sons o' bitches." He touched his index and middle finger gently to his nose.

"Is it broken?" Cody asked.

"Nah, but it hurts like a mother."

"So, I assume you told him no." Cody, who was sitting on his bed, straightened his legs out to prevent them from falling asleep.

George looked at him with a bemused expression. "Ya think?"

"He hit you pretty hard, didn't he?"

It was a rhetorical question, so George didn't answer it. Instead, he said, "I'm used to fighting. I got into a shitload of fights when I was a gang member. This is nothing. I've been in fights where I nearly died."

Cody decided to leave that alone. He'd already heard enough of George's back story and didn't have the stomach to hear any more of it. "What the hell was he yelling about after he hit you?" he asked. "He was standing there screaming like a raving lunatic."

"I don't know; I was a little busy scrambling to my feet. It was something about how no one loved him and the world was a giant piece of shit, and every person was a worthless little fucker. Something along those lines."

Well, that's curious.

Cody sighed. He'd been worried about George after the fight. He'd been worried about how dazed—or how angry—George would be. He also had wondered where the nurse had taken him when everyone else went back into the building. "Where did they take you?" he wanted to know.

"To the infirmary. They just checked to see if my nose was broken and put a bandage over it. Then they gave me my Depakote and sent me back. When I got here, I saw that you were gone."

"I had to go talk to my therapist."

"Ah! Yeah, that's right. You're a newcomer. Newcomers have early sessions." George stopped touching his nose and began picking at a small scab next to his elbow on his left forearm. "So how was it?"

"Boring…and somewhat amusing."

"Amusing, huh?"

"Yeah, the guy kept prodding me. He kept trying to pump me for answers he knew I didn't want to give."

"Well, what do you expect? It's his job to pump. He's your the-rapist."

Gee, you must hate therapists immensely, don't you George?

"I protested the outfits," Cody added. "Told him I wanted to add color back to my wardrobe."

George gave a little crooked smile. "That's my boy," he said. "Let the man have it."

"I was being sarcastic. I just didn't want to sit there, bored out of my skull."

"But I bet you got on his nerves, though. I bet you pissed him off."

Cody considered what Dr. Thompson's expressions and mannerisms had been. "I think so, but he seemed okay with me not wanting to talk. He said I could have all the time I needed to open up to him."

"Look man, that's what they all say. My doctor—he's been saying that same thing for nearly three years, but I can tell he's about ready to throw me out the window. He's convinced I have some dark secret that I'm not telling him; he can't get it through his thick, dumb-fuck head that I've already spilled everything."

But you haven't, George. I'm no psychiatrist, and I'm no the-rapist…but I can tell that you have a secret. I know you do. You can't convince me otherwise.

"But, George, I haven't told everything. I do have secrets. I just…I don't really know how to express them. I can't talk about them because I can't make them out. I don't think I could explain them if I tried."

"Doesn't really matter. Like I said before, they'll probably just wind up putting you on pills to keep you happy. They just have those talking sessions to make themselves look good, but that's it. Do what I do, man. Stay quiet. Let that doctor do his prodding. Throw him off, keep him busy. Tell jokes, protest…whatever. But don't say anything that's worth a damn."

Cody looked down, taking in the sight of his now fidgeting fingers, feeling ill at ease. He wanted to say something, but wasn't sure what. "So none of this is going to help…ever? I should just keep on resisting…even if I do someday want to talk?" He sounded so pathetic. So meager. He was almost surprised by his own voice.

It was rather peculiar that, in Dr. Thompson's office, he had been so sure of himself—so sure that he did not want to be there, in that position, with that man who was practically begging him to crack and confide—but now he was hesitant. A little fearful even. And Cody suspected that George may have had a little something to do with that. After all, George had told him that the price was of refusing therapy was a life contained within asylum walls, which Cody couldn't even begin to grasp. He'd been aware of what he would have to give in order to get out of that place. But still, it had been easy to defy his doctor.

You have a hold on me, George. I barely know you and, already, you have a hold on me. I don't know how this happened. Perhaps, subconsciously, I felt I needed you. Perhaps you just know people too well and I was drawn to that. Either way, I doubt you did this on purpose. And I know I didn't. But nonetheless, I am slowly modeling myself in your image.

I've never been a rebel before, George. It felt good earlier, in that room, with my doctor. I have to admit, it felt free. But I'm scared. I'm used to rules. I'm used to authority. I feel naked without it.

"That's right," George answered him. When he saw that Cody looked rather down about that, he went further by saying, "In the end, it's not real. All those illnesses they put on paper…all those disorders they turn to…they don't define who you are. They just exist so that rich, college-educated bigots sitting behind desks can make sense of the world. But, I promise you, they don't mean jack shit. All that matters is what you think of yourself. You can be the craziest person on Earth—a total fuckin' psycho—but if you think you're a good person, then you're a good person…if only just as far as you're concerned."

In his own little insensitive way, he was trying to make Cody feel better. And Cody knew it. However, he didn't succeed.

"But, people slam you if they don't agree with you," he pointed out. "It's dangerous to think you're good in a world that thinks you're bad…or crazy. We don't deal the cards, George. We just receive them."

"The world doesn't play the game for you, Cody. It doesn't live your life. You do. And living's not the same thing as just fuckin' standing there and breathing—living's what you make it. It's a blank canvas and you've got to paint it. You've got to make your life, Cody."

I think I know why you say that, George. You had to mentally construct your own life when you were younger, cause the life you were given was harsh. You weren't dealt good cards, so you told yourself that you had to stack the deck. Your canvas was painted black and you didn't like that, so you told yourself it was really red in disguise.

For the first time since Cody met George, George gave him an earnest expression. "You gotta shape it in your image…cause when you do that, no one else can touch it."

At that very moment, the metal door to their room opened and a nurse—frizzy-haired Nurse Richards—peaked her head in. "Cody Martin," she said, "you have visitors."

…

When Kurt pulled up to the front of Fairoaks Asylum, a vast sense of dread overtook him and seemed to spread to Carey and Zack. They had all decided to travel to Fairoaks together, in one car, because they were all going to the same place…for the same reason.

It was visiting day. And they were there to see Cody.

The assortment of buildings the place contained was daunting. The roofing was high-peaked, the walls were made of brick, the windows were all barred—all in all, it looked rather like something out of an old, classic horror story. The fortress where the ghost of a murdered person resided.

Kurt's fingers were trembling on the steering wheel. "We ready to do this?" he asked, his voice shaking a little. He was going to see his son in an asylum—a place where he'd never thought his son would end up. When fathers think of visiting their sons in the future, they generally think of college, and homes, and work places. Not asylums. Definitely not them.

"Yes," Zack replied. His breathing was unsteady but he managed to sound more calm than he really was.

I'm going to see Cody...and I have no idea what I'm going to say. But I know I want to see him. I at least know that much.

"Of course," Carey added. It was nearly the first time she spoke since Cody was taken away in the first place. "We need to see him."

Together, as if in one fluid motion, all three of them got out of the car.

…

The front door, which was typically kept locked, was kept unlocked during visiting hours. That way, nurses didn't have to constantly be locking and unlocking the door for people to come in and see their families. When Kurt, Carey, and Zack walked up to the front desk—a huge window at the far end of the room—in the unexpectedly homey lobby, they were greeted by a woman with a high cheek-boned face and skin that appeared to be unnaturally expanded. According to a plaque situated before them, her name was Margaret O'Donnell. She smiled at them, the edges of her lips creating curved lines on her cheeks. "Visitors?" she asked.

"Yeah," Kurt said. "We're here to see Cody Martin."

Margaret typed in something on a computer she was sitting at, and then picked up a phone and dialed an extension. "Dr. Thompson?" she said into it. "This is Margaret. Yes, Cody Martin's family is here to see him. Could you send a nurse to his room to go get him and bring to the visiting area? Thank you very much."

She put the phone down and then turned back toward the three anxious people in front of her. "The visiting area is practically directly behind this room. If you go through this door"—the gestured toward a door on the left—"and go down the hallway, and then make a quick right at the sign that says 'Visiting Area' with an arrow next to it, you can't miss it. There's a sign on the door and a big table inside. It looks like a board room."

"Er, thanks," Kurt said, unsure.

"If you have any problem finding it, just come back in here and I'll get someone to walk you down there."

Kurt went over to the door, opened it, let Carey and Zack step through first, and then closed it behind himself. They found themselves in a fluorescent-lighted hallway, and immediately began walking.

The visiting room wasn't hard to find. The main hallway branched off into another at the right, and there was a black sign on the wall next to it with the words "Visiting Area" on it, along with an arrow pointing to that secondary hallway. They all went down it until they came upon the room that the reception lady, Margaret O'Donnell, had described.

When they went in, they sat and waited patiently for Cody, all the while trying to subdue their anxiousness and think of what they were going to say to him when he arrived.

Cody was brought in four minutes later. He didn't really look like himself. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was messy, with split ends. And of course, there was the outfit he was wearing—the plain, white, pajama-like uniform that sagged on his body pitifully. To top it off was the bracelet—a strip of paper wrapped around his wrist claiming that he belonged where he was.

At first sight of his brother, Zack felt unnerved. He knew it was Cody he was looking at, but there was a part of him that was not willing to believe it. Then, as if a torrent came out of nowhere and engulfed him, he found himself struck with heartache.

My God, Cody, what has this place done to you?

Kurt was the first one to stand up, followed by Carey. Zack stood up last. He lagged behind his parents, but kept his eyes firmly on Cody. He watched attentively as Kurt and Carey both hugged their second son tightly and tried to hide the grief in their voices as they asked him questions like how he was, if he'd eaten properly, if he'd gotten enough sleep the night before, and if his room was comfortable enough. Cody did nothing except nod and occasionally mutter a "yes." Zack knew he was lying; he could always tell when Cody was dishonest. But he didn't say anything. He remained silent.

After a good two or three minutes, Carey acknowledged Zack. "Zack, don't you want to say hi to your brother?" she asked. Clearly, it bothered her that Zack hadn't done anything but stand and stare since Cody came in.

But Zack couldn't help it. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. He had to admit, seeing Cody gave him immense relief. But that was the only thing he was certain about. So, to make his mother happy, he slightly turned up a corner of his mouth to create a smile and said, "Hi Cody." As soon as the words were out, he wanted to smack himself in the head. They'd sounded so awkward.

"Hi Zack," Cody answered, just as uneasily.

His voice made Zack want to cry. Involuntarily, tears began to prick his eyes. Breathe, breathe. Don't cry now. Show Cody that you're strong. Breathe, just breathe. Don't show him how crushed you are; don't show him that you're destroyed. Hold it in and be brave.

Zack suddenly realized something: he needed to speak to his brother alone.

Zack gave his parents a whole ten minutes with Cody before bringing up the question he knew he had to bring up. When he did, it came out sounding firm and resolute. "Mom, Dad, could I please have a moment alone with Cody?"

His parents seemed unsure about that idea. "I don't know, Zack," Kurt replied. "I mean, we came here as a family. I think it best if we stay here as a family."

"Look, I understand that," Zack returned, which was true. He did understand; he understood that his father had driven all the way there to spend some quality time—if this could even be called quality time—with his depressed son. Plus, his father was worried that if he left Zack alone with Cody, Zack might do something he'd regret later. After that episode at the kitchen table the day before, there was no telling what he was capable of. Nevertheless, Zack was adamant. "Really, I get it. But I need to have a moment with him. It's…it's important." He gazed at his father pleadingly. "Please," he added.

Kurt looked down for a second, taking in Zack's request. Then he turned to Carey and asked, "Is it alright with you?" Carey seemed less than willing, but she nodded.

They both looked at Cody, who said nothing and shrugged. They took that as a "yes" and walked out the door, leaving their sons alone together.

For a while, neither of the boys spoke. They just stood across from each other, statuesque except for their breathing. Then, suddenly, as if drawn by instinct, Zack approached Cody and enclosed him in a tight embrace. He still needed to be careful because of Cody's heart surgery, but the longer he held on, the tighter his grip became. His hug was like that of a drowning man, desperately trying to survive. Clinging onto something that could keep him above surface.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd kissed Cody. Kisses had practically been nonexistent when they were younger—more so than hugs. And that was saying something because hugs were few and far in between. But he kissed Cody now. He turned his head and kissed his cheek, twice, and it didn't feel strange in the least. He still didn't consciously know what he wanted to say, but he didn't have to; his words escaped him without his awareness. "You don't have to lie to me, Cody," he said, his voice nearly a half sob. "I know why you lied to Mom and Dad, but you don't have to lie to me. This place sucks, doesn't it? I can tell it sucks. How have they treated you here? Have they hurt you? Are you on drugs now? Oh God…what have I done? I let you get sent to this place. I could have bailed you out. I could have stood up for you…but I didn't. I thought this would be good for you…I thought it was what you needed. But I was wrong. I'm so sorry!"

Cody knew that Zack was right. Every word he said was right. But it was still painful to hear him say it—still heart-breaking to hear the crack in his voice. The remorse. "It's okay, Zack," Cody told him, as convincingly as he could manage. "You didn't do anything wrong. I get it. I understand why you let them put me here. You were angry, and you were confused. You had every right to be."

"How can you be so okay with it?" Zack asked in devastation. "How can you not hate me?"

"I could never hate you, Zack," Cody assured him. "Not for real." That was honesty in its purest form. Cody had been angry at Zack for allowing him to be sent to Fairoaks; he'd planned on telling Zack just how offended he was about the whole thing, and asking him what he'd been thinking in the first place. But now he couldn't. Everything had changed. Zack wasn't going on and on about how good and helpful this asylum was like Cody had expected him to. And he wasn't gloating either. Zack felt guilty. If he was feeling anything it was hatred towards himself.

Cody didn't fully understand why, but he felt he had to counteract that hatred with love.

Cody turned his face and kissed Zack on the cheek in return. Gradually, they pulled apart. Zack's face looked uncomfortable.

"Sorry about that," he said.

"Don't be," responded Cody. He beckoned over to the table at their side. "You wanna sit down?"

"Yeah."

They sat down and took a moment to stare at each other quietly, both analyzing their situation.

Here you are, thought Cody. I've missed you so badly and now, here you are, right in front of me. Strangely enough, even though I just touched you, you feel like a mirage to me. Maybe it's just my mind playing tricks, but I can't ignore this fear. I'm afraid that the moment I turn my eyes away from you, you'll disappear. I'd like to tell you this, Zack…but I won't because it'd probably sound crazy to you. And I'm trying to convince you that I'm sane.

I'm not entirely sure I am, but I don't want to stay here. I want out. I want to go home…wherever home is. I don't even know anymore. But nevertheless, home could be anywhere other than here

Oh man, Cody, thought Zack. What's happened to you? I know you're you, but I can't make myself believe it. I think, in the long run, what it boils down to is shame. I look at you and I see an image that should be someone else. This isn't you, Cody. You're not the loony sitting here in white pajamas, with tangled hair and bags that resemble bruises beneath your eyes. At least, you're not supposed to be. You're supposed to be the bright-eyed, overly clean, college student—a know-it-all with ideas and plans, and a sure future. The nerd I'm proud to call my brother.

Underneath it all, the real problem is hatred. But not hatred towards you. I thought it might be hatred towards you at first…which is why I have this whole other identity now. This "new" Zack living inside me. But now I realize, the hatred I feel is all for me. Just for me, Cody. It's my punishment for not being a good brother to you.

Cody was the one who finally broke the silence. "So I assume you're staying with Mom and Dad now?"

"Yeah," Zack said. "We're staying at the Tipton."

"That's…heart-warming, I guess."

"We didn't do it because we wanted to. We just had nowhere else to go. We wanted to stay together, you know? To work through…all this." Zack and Cody both grimaced at that, but Zack continued. "And the Tipton just ended up being our best bet."

Cody nodded.

"I emailed Bailey," Zack blurted out. He wasn't originally going to tell Cody that, but he figured, why not? He thought maybe Cody should know about it. After all, Bailey might decide to come and see him. "I told her everything."

Cody didn't seem too pleased with the notion of his ex-girlfriend knowing about his current issues; but at the same time, he didn't exactly seem upset. "What did she say?" he wanted to know.

"I haven't checked my emails yet. I assume she'll be pissed…and shocked."

Cody's eyes shifted downward toward the table top. He pretended to be interested in the dark lines of mahogany running along its surface as humiliation grabbed a hold of him.

Zack had not wanted to reminisce over the negative things. Especially since the last time he saw his little brother, he'd lost his temper. He'd wanted to keep the shadows—the demons—in the back of his mind and just focus on Cody's well-being. But he could no longer do that. The new Zack was trying to share the driver's seat with the old, and he had to succumb to his wishes. They were too powerful to disregard. "I still don't understand what you've done," he told Cody tensely. "I just…I can't…"

"You'll never understand it, Zack," Cody interjected. "We established that days ago, in that recovery room. You'll never understand it and you'll most likely never forgive it." He kept his eyes firmly on the table as he spoke.

Zack took an unsteady breath. Part of him wanted to curse the new Zack for doing this—for reverting back to the past instead of focusing on the future. For being cold. However, at the same time, he had to thank him because the old Zack would not have been able to do that…and it had to be done. Sooner rather than later.

The new Zack was not the only one in control though. The old one was there too, taking charge when he could. "Look, Cody…I'm sorry I yelled at you in the recovery room. And I'm sorry I let you get sent here. Really, I am. But, Jesus man, you scared me to death!"

"I know, Zack. I know."

"How did you expect me to react? I come home and find my little brother on the floor of my room…dying." His voice broke at the last word. "Dying right in front of me, and I don't even know if I can save him. How did you expect me to feel?" Zack looked at Cody desperately, craving any kind of clarification. "What were you thinking? It couldn't have been all about that bitch. I know you too well for that. What was going on, man?"

Now Cody went on the defense. It wasn't rebellious defense, despite a twinge of indignation arising within him. It was simple explanation. "I was thinking I despised the world, Zack. I despised it and I wanted to show it that it didn't own me."

"So you were willing to break the hearts of everyone who loved you?"

"I didn't want to. That was the hardest decision I had to make. I would never want to hurt you, Zack. You or anyone else. But I figured I had no choice. I had to…free myself."

"Free yourself? Free yourself from what?"

"From everything. Everything."

Zack shook his head, confused beyond measure. "Okay, so you wanted to free yourself. And…you thought death was the only way to do that?"

Cody thought before answering. This was a question he'd asked himself multiple times, both before and after his attempted suicide. It came down to one thing—one debatable concept. "Why is death so horrible, Zack?" he asked, his gaze finally turning away from the table and meeting Zack's.

Zack appeared as though Cody had just stabbed him. "Because it's…it's…well, you know…it's death." Despite how easy to answer that question would seem, Zack found that he had a hard time answering it. "It's when…you're not here anymore."

"What's so bad about not being here anymore?"

"Here is…good, more or less. I mean, it's better than being in the ground dead."

"How? Death is only painful once, and then it's over. The pain doesn't last…not like in life. Life is crueler than death, Zack."

"That may be true." Cody was astonished to hear Zack say that. So was Zack. But no later than he said those words did he realize he meant them. Taking into account all the pain he'd been enduring lately, he reasoned that death couldn't be half as excruciating. "But it still doesn't give you free reign to take your own life," he added. "That's just selfish."

"Why is it selfish to want to put an end to pain?"

"Because it'll only cause more pain!" Once again, Zack's eyes welled with tears. He managed to hold them back, but it was nearly impossible. They blurred his vision and stung like needles. And he knew Cody could see them. "Do you have any idea how devastated we've been over all this bullshit? Mom, and Dad, and me—we've been miserable! No, scratch that. Miserable's not the right word. I don't even know what the right word is because I've never seen, or felt, this much pain before. I didn't even think this much pain existed! I wish you could have seen us after you left! We're…we're not even the same people anymore. Mom does nothing but lie around, Dad's completely silent, and I'm totally confused!" A tear spilled over and he wiped it away before it made a trail down his cheek. "I'm so fucking confused and I can't figure anything out anymore! Nothing makes sense like it used to! I thought I knew things—I thought I knew you—but evidently I don't!"

"Zack, please," Cody pleaded, empathy and guilt overwhelming him. "Don't do this to yourself."

"Why not?" Zack spat back, remembering that his father had said the same thing to him the day before. "Is it any worse than what you did to yourself?"

From behind them, the door to the Visiting Area opened and Carey and Kurt peaked their heads in. "Are you guys done talking?" asked Kurt. "Cause visiting time is going to be over soon, and your mom and I wanted to spend some more time with Cody."

"Yeah," Zack said, standing up. "Yeah, we're done." He turned around and headed towards the door. "I think I'm going to wait in the hall till it's time to leave."

"Sweetie, are you sure?" Carey looked disappointed.

"I'm sure," Zack told her.

Before he was out the door, he heard Cody say his name…rather loudly. He wasn't entirely certain if he wanted to hear what he had to say, but since his parents were watching, he turned back around and took one last look at Cody, who stared at him earnestly and said, "I love you."

A lump formed in Zack's throat but he gulped it down. "I love you too, man."

As Zack crossed the threshold of the doorway, a realization came to him: this was exactly how he'd left Cody the night before he shot himself.

…

When Cody's family returned to the Tipton, Zack immediately said he needed some time alone. Kurt initially was going to protest against that, but he thought twice. Seeing Cody had been both uplifting and emotionally straining for all of them, and Kurt was totally unaware of what his sons had talked about when they were alone. "Okay," he said, "whatever you need."

Nevertheless, he felt a pang of worry as he watched Zack grab his laptop and head out the door of 2330. He had no idea where he was going, or what he was going to do, and flashbacks of what happened the day before, at the kitchen table, filled his head. Please Zack…don't do anything that'll hurt me more.

Zack came down to the lobby and then walked out the front door of the hotel. He sat himself on the front steps, where his jeans were in the sun but his head and torso were shielded by the hotel's overhanging green sign. He placed his laptop on his lap, opened it, and turned it on. Luckily, the entire building, including the perimeter around it, had wireless connection. He was going to check his emails.

There were two new ones. One was from his boss, Mr. Hayman, telling him that since his work hadn't been the best lately, he should take a few days off to deal with whatever issues he was having. The other was from Bailey.

He held his breath as he clicked on it and read its contents:

Zack,

Oh my god! Are you serious? I can't believe it! I just don't believe it! How could Cody do this? He had to have known what it would do to us. Is he so stupid that he wouldn't realize how hurt we'd be without him? How are Carey and Kurt? I bet they're devastated. Does anyone else know? Moseby? London? Maddie? Are you okay, Zack?

Don't apologize. I'd want you to be honest with me about something like this. Oh Zack, I feel so bad for you. Cody told me you hated his girlfriend. He told me you didn't want him to date her in the first place but he didn't listen. If only he'd listened! But it can't just be her, can it? I know Cody and he's not the type to lose it like this. Is there something else?

Anyway, as soon as I can find a flight to Boston, I'm leaving. I'm coming over there and talking to Cody. I think he needs me. I think he needs all of us. Will I be able to visit him in the asylum? Oh, who cares? I'll break down the door if I have to.

See you soon, Zack.

Bailey

So Bailey was coming. Zack wondered when he'd see her. He wondered what she'd say to Cody.

One thing in her email that caught his attention was the part where she said that Cody needed all of them. It was completely true. After seeing Cody in the asylum, he knew he'd made a mistake. As did the doctors.

What was the name of that doctor who referred Cody to Fairoaks? Zack couldn't remember his name. It wasn't the woman doctor, he knew that; it was the man. The one who was in charge. But he just could not recall the name.

Suddenly, Zack heard his dad's voice come from behind him. "Zack?" he said.

As Zack turned around, Kurt took a seat beside him on the steps. "I thought we agreed I needed some time alone," Zack pointed out.

"I know," Kurt admitted. "We did. I'm sorry. I just…couldn't help it."

Zack was fully aware of what his dad meant by that. "You were worried about me, weren't you?"

Kurt didn't answer. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Zack's shoulders and gently nuzzled him.

Zack decided he should tell his dad about Bailey's arrival. He didn't know when exactly she would show up. "Guess what?" he said. "I emailed Bailey. I told her about Cody, and she says she's coming out here to visit."

Kurt didn't seem displeased. But he was rather astonished. "Really? Do you think that's wise?"

"I think so," Zack told him. "Cody could use all the support he can get. Maybe, if Bailey's here, he can get his mind off of…you know. Not that I think she's the real reason for what he did. But still…it might help."

Kurt nodded. "I think you're right." He stood up. "Well, I suppose I should go tell your mother, and Mr. Moseby."

"Dad?" Zack said before his dad walked back in.

"Yeah?"

"What was the name of the doctor who referred Cody to Fairoaks?"

"Dr. Maps. Why?"

Zack shrugged. "Just curious."

Kurt nodded again, and then disappeared into the lobby.

Maps. That was the name, thought Zack. Dr. Maps. He took another glance at Bailey's email, then logged out and turned his computer off. He'd come to an abrupt, final resolution: he was going to go back to the hospital and talk to Dr. Maps.