Unloved

Summary: Everyone has left or ignored the eighteen-year-old Zack -- nobody seems to care for him anymore. But what happens when he decides to run away, then gets caught up in something bigger than anyone, even Cody, had expected? (Zack's POV)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that are in the episodes of the Suite Life of Zack and Cody. I do, however, own the bad guys. (Except one future "bad guy".)

I lifted my head up, but I wasn't sure if I was awake. Everything was still as dark as they could be. But when my head was hit by a swinging light, I knew I was awake. Suddenly, the light flashed on, and I looked around the room, trying to stay calm. At least five guys surrounded me, each one buff, like a football player, and somewhat like me. Most wore black leather jackets and white shirts, with blue jeans: this was most definitely a gang. And they had me trapped in a beat-down basement, with no windows, and a horrible stench.

One of the men laughed, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Took you long enough to wake up," he said, and the others nodded in agreement. He seemed to be the leader of this gang.

"How long was I out for?" I questioned, trying to sound calm. Trying being the operative word. But I did know that I had to appear calm, and unfrightened by these guys, or I would surely be in the hospital once someone found me -- if I was even alive.

"An hour," one of the weaker-looking men replied with a shrug. An hour was long? Geez.

"Ah," I said, adjusting my body into a more comfortable position. "Now, what am I here for?"

"You seem kinda tough, kid," one of the older ones said, kinda avoiding my question. "Let's see how tough you really are."

"We'll put you against Butch here,'' the leader said with a smirk, "and see how you do." He jabbed a thumb towards a tough-looking guy. But I could take him on.

"Alright then, you want to do this now? I'm ready anytime," I replied with a small shrug, rolling of the large slab of rock that I had been laying on.

"You sure, kid?" the older one asked, amusement dancing across his face.

"Hey, do you think that I wouldn't be ready? It's not like I'm in acoma or anything." I looked at Butch, then at the leader. "Tell me when."

"Now," the gang leader replied simply. "Butch, get ready."

"Yeah, Boss, I got it -- beat this weakling up to where he decides to lay there and stop breathin', Boss. No need ter explain nothin'."

"Except proper English," I retorted. I wanted to work this guy up, let him waste all his energy trying to beat me up while I dodged, then beat him up. Hopefully he was as dumb as I thought.

"Shut up," Butch snapped, running towards me with a fist closed, ready to punch. He let his fist towards my face, not stopping; I ducked, letting out my leg to trip him. I did all of this in one quick motion, spinning around to face him. My plan was working so far.

Butch got back up, running back to me, this time letting his fist come from the right and go towards the left, at my stomach. I sucked in my stomach and moved it backwards, his fist getting some of my shirt and pulling me slightly. But this was going way too well for me to back down now. With a smirk, I made my hand into a fist and aimed straight for Butch's nose. The punch was successful, and a crack was audible -- I had broken his nose! His head went back. Blood was all over his face and my fist, but he was visibly angrier. His fist went back, then came in contact with my nose. He did the exact same thing I did, except I staggered back a little bit.

I ducked from another punch, using my hands to support my weight as I lifted my feet to kick Butch in the stomach. His eyeballs widened at the contact, but he grabbed my feet and threw me into the air. I hit the wall and screamed slightly in pain. Breathing heavily, I muttered, "Now it's on." I got up on my feet and charged at the smirking Butch, my fists quickly punching him numerous times. He deserved it.

Finally, Butch punched at me, and I kicked him back, right across the eyes. He staggered back, hitting the wall. Then, the gang leader's voice flooded into the room. "I believe that this newcomer deserves a spot in our gang. But first, we need to decide on someone to take out." He smirked, and I felt an odd feeling. It wasn't bad, it was actually... good. For once, someone was recognizing me. A strong gang.

Everyone -- except me -- turned and looked at Butch. The gang leader noticed this, and said, "Well, I suppose that he did beat Butch, to an extent. It's final -- Butch is out, this kid is in. Now, kid, what's your name?"

"Zack," I replied, my heart beating like a drum. "Zack Martin."

"Hmm... Zack," he repeated. "We need a tough name for you, a nickname. We've got Viper, Cobra, Skullz, and I'm Bonez, or Boss. Think up a name, kid."

"Vulture?" I suggested. Why I picked that name was a mystery to me at that time. But Bonez seemed to think it was good.

"Welcome to the gang, Vulture. You're one of us now." Following that were some welcoming slaps on the back.

All I knew was that I had found something that was like a family -- and it was the only chance I had.