A/N: Okay. So. As an FYI and a little bit of a spoiler, Zackwill eventually get back to Boston. How, why, or when I can't tell you, but he will go back at some point in the story. I know last chapter was definitely Zack-centered, but there's a lot of Cody in this one, for all the Cody-fans out there. Enjoy!

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

Dedication: To strawberryfinn, because we're co-writing a new fic called Run (prologue's up now), and she's so much fun to work with ).Check it out if you get the chance!

Well I suppose we'll all make our judgment call
We'll walk it alone, stand up tall, then march to the fall
So we better be happy now that we'll all go home.

-Jason Mraz; The Boy's Gone

SIXTEEN MONTHS PREVIOUSLY

"Game room. You coming?"

Cody didn't even bother looking up from The Lord of the Flies. "No,"

Zack leaned over the couch with his puppy-dog face firmly in tact. "Come on, man! Get out once in a while; have some fun!"

"I'm reading," Cody answered, still not looking up from page six.

"Yeah, but it's no fun without someone else. Even you'll do." Zack said, adding in a signature sarcastic little quip at the end, as was his specialty.

"No."

Zack groaned. "What if I said please?"

Cody rolled his eyes as he turned to page seven. "You wouldn't. And I still wouldn't go."

Zack scowled. "Fine. But someday you'll be sorry."

"Great." said Cody. "I'll mark my calendar."

When Zack had left, Cody set the book down and yawned widely. Rubbing his eyes he meandered over to their bedroom and tossed the book on his bed. He turned to leave when something caught his eyes; a little bag of what appeared to be white candy stuck out from a trophy on Zack's shelf. Cody was strict on the rule of no food in their room; he didn't want the place to smell. He pulled it out and sniffed it. It looked like rock salt; white and flaky.

"What the hell, Zack?" Cody said, shaking it. Whatever candy it was, it looked disgusting. Cody didn't even bother sampling it before he tossed it on his brother's bed and left the room.

Cody never saw the bag again, but he could have sworn he saw Zack's hands shaking at dinner that night, and as the week wore on his twin began acting strange and Cody found himself avoiding his brother more often.

Grades, he thought. Or girls, guitar, games…

But not that bag of candy.

Zack had a strange taste in food, after all.

PRESENT DAY

Cody couldn't sleep. He'd just had the best day he'd had in a long, long time; Patrick-free, curtsey of the Boston School System and the goodness apparently found in the world. And yet, as he tossed and turned he found his mind going to other places. To Hunter, Connecticut.

Cody was a science-minded person. He believed in order and mathematical solutions and that logic always had its place. Ghosts, demons, horoscopes, palm-readers…He always dismissed them as trivial entertainment practices; never to be taken seriously, and always to be skeptical about.

But the one person who had always challenged his rigid stance on the left-brained principles of modern Utopia was Zack. Not because of Zack's own beliefs (Cody doubted his brother had any past guitars and girls), but because of the simple and outright undeniable fact that they were twins.

More than brothers, more than family members, more than just genetically related. They were identical twins. Four minutes apart maybe, but still born of the same night, of the same hospital, of the same mother.

Point blank.

For some reason it had never come to any surprise to Cody that he could often sense his brother's moods, or finish his sentences without thinking twice. And it wasn't so much that he could so much as it was that he did. They way he'd felt the deep, unexplainable and devastating pain Zack had experienced on the night of Sam's suicide, and the intense fear on that morning when they'd said goodbye nine months ago. It was more that improbable; it was downright impossible.

But so was love and evidently that was real enough.

And so as Cody tried to fall asleep his thoughts turned angry and confused, hurt and sad, he felt lost without any reason as to why.

Unless Zack felt the same way.

Filled with a foreboding sense of unease, Cody rose from his bed and left the room, deciding he'd have a nice, calming cup of hot chocolate to put his mind at rest.

He poured the mix into the cup and filled it with milk before sticking it into the microwave and punching in a minute and a half. Sighing, he sat leaned against the counters and closed his eyes.

"Cody?"

He looked and found his mom at the doorway. She had her robe on and looked as though she, too, had had sleeping problems.

"Couldn't sleep," Cody mumbled. Carey smiled sympathetically and walked over, taking another mix of hot chocolate and replacing her son's cup when the timer rang out shrilly.

"Why not?" Carey asked him when hers was heated and they had both sat down at the kitchen table.

Cody blew on his slightly to cool it. He shrugged.

Carey nodded. "Cody, I-I talked to your father earlier today," Cody looked up at her quickly in surprise. "And I'm going to bring Zack back this weekend."

"What?" Cody asked, setting his mug down. "Wait, did you-did you talk to him, or something?"

Carey took a drink. "No, not to Zack. But from what your father says he's more than ready to come home,"

"Yeah, but then why doesn't he want to?" Cody asked, frowning slightly.

Carey sighed. "I'm not sure if it's that he doesn't want to, or that he's afraid to." Cody looked at her strangely.

"Afraid? Why would he be afraid? He's not in trouble-?"

"No, no he's not, but think about it, honey," Carey took another sip. "When he left he wasn't feeling great, and now he's had the chance to make up for things in Connecticut. He's probably scared to face all of his old problems, you know?"
Cody bit his bottom lip. "He's angry," he said softly. "He feels like dad doesn't want him there anymore and that you're making him come back…" he recited the words as though they were practiced, when in reality he was rather surprised of what was coming out of his mouth.

"I-," Carey frowned at him. "What makes you say that, Cody?"

He slowly looked up at her, gaze unfocused, deep in thought. "He-he wants to stay with his new friends, but he feels guilty that he's not protecting me from Patrick, and he hates being told what to do, and dad must've told him you're coming this weekend. But," Cody frowned deeply. "But he took it wrong. He thought it was dad's idea and you just support it. He's mad. Really mad…"

Carey looked at him with an expression akin to alarm. She turned over her palm and pressed it to his forehead. "Cody? Are you feeling okay?"

Cody shivered, but not because he was cold. "Mom," he whispered, staring somewhere behind her. "Mom, he's gonna run away," he looked at her in fear but she shook her head and smiled calmly.

"No, baby, you're just…remembering a dream, or something. Zack's fine. He's at your father's house, but he'll be back with us this weekend, okay?"

But Cody was shaking his head, too. "No, mom, he's gonna run away tonight. I know Zack; I know what he would do." He shivered again and his mother rose from the table and led him away to his room. She paused at the door and Cody looked at her pleadingly; desperate for her to believe him.

"Get some sleep, okay? We can talk tomorrow. It's Friday."

"No, mom, listen to me!" Cody tried to tell her, but she just smiled once tiredly more and gently closed the door behind her. "Damn it…" Cody whispered, looking around his room for a solution.

If Zack ran away…he could get kidnapped or lost or fall back into drugs or be killed…Alone in Connecticut. At night. Without food, without money, without anything…It would take a little over two hours to get to Hunter, and if Cody took a cab there tonight he could intercept Zack…Find him before something happened…

It was crazy. It was insane. It was stupid and reckless and impossible to pull off. He would be chancing everything on a whim. Even if his connection with Zack had always been absurdly accurate, who's to say he wasn't just subconsciously guessing at means to an end?

Cody grabbed his wallet; his job at the bookstore paid well, and he had over two hundred dollars of savings.

For the second time that night, Cody went against logic.

He closed the door silently on his way out.

Zack had originally planned to take his dad's car (I mean, hey, he owned a dealership, for God's sake. He had plenty to choose from), but the motor would have woken everyone up and that would have ruined everything.

Once he got into Hartford he could hail a cab and go…

…Somewhere.

Once upon a long time ago they, Cody and his parents, had all gone up to a little cabin on a lake in Southern Massachusetts; about an hour west of Cape Cod and had stayed for a few days. It had been one of the last times they'd all been together as a family before his mother had filed for divorce when Zack and Cody had been six.

Maybe he could go and crash there…Until he figured out something else to…do…Jeez, his plan had a few holes. Gaping ones, as it stood.

He'd fill them later.

Pulling over the hood on his sweatshirt Zack readjusted the backpack over his shoulders and tightened his grip on his guitar case.

In forty five minutes he'd be in Hartford, and then, if he was lucky, he could reach the cabin by the next morning.

If he was lucky.

Cody himself had never snuck out of the Tipton at night before, but he'd heard Zack tell him about his own experiences numerous times.

Nothing was on, but the sliding doors still worked when he pushed and the security alarms only worked for people coming in. Zack had always climbed out the window, but Cody hated heights.

Boston was no New York, but it was still up and about at midnight. Cars whizzed past him and he stuck out a hand to signal a cab. In five minutes a taxi pulled up. Cody ducked inside, relieved when the driver was woman. He doubted she'd kidnap him. That was always a good thing not to be; kidnapped.

"Where to, kid?" she asked.

"Hartford." Cody said. "I have the money."

"If you say so," the driver said, pulling away from the curb.

And Cody lay back and closed his eyes. It was ironic, how he felt like he could fall asleep doing what was quite possibly (and quite undeniably) the stupidest andmost irresponsible thing he'd ever done before in his life.

But he had to find his brother.

He had to find Zack, because Zack could not find himself.

To Be Continued

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