Author's note - I lied, daley and lex still aren't here, but I did show a bit of Nathan's reactiong...and! you find out what Eric did that was so wrong to Chad. So enjoy.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Cody Jackson?" Jackson glanced up from the black spot on his bed sheets to gaze evenly at the two federal men standing in his doorway. "We have a few questions for you," a blond haired man said, taking the initiative and entering the room fully. Jackson shifted slightly in his bed, somehow managing to sit up. "It'll only take a few minutes."

"Alright," Jackson offered. "What do you want to know?"

"This is your second violent offense," the second man, a shorter man with a crew cut, said, as he joined his partner beside Jackson's bed. "You are aware of your probation regulations, correct?"

Jackson nodded. "Yeah, but, it wasn't my fault this time," Jackson said quickly.

"You have violated the law twice, Mr. Jackson," the man with the crew cut said. "One more time and we will be forced to take you to court."

"I thought you said you had questions," Jackson stated evenly.

"We do," the blonde man said. "We would like to question you about Mr. Bueick's untimely death. The other witnesses say that your instigated the fight?"

"I guess so," Jackson admitted. "He had a gun, deadly force right? What would you have done?"

"What any one else would have done is not in question right now," the crew cut man said. Jackson couldn't help noticing that their professional voices of reasoning was slowly beginning to disintegrate. "Why did you attack the boy?"

"I just told you," Jackson said, struggling to sit up further with the aid of one hand. "He had a gun. I was a hostage. Attacking the shooter is just kinda something hostages do. Am I imagining this or do you really sound like you're about to defend him?"

"It is unwise to infere our reactions to this child's death, Mr. Jackson," the blonde man said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch you names," Jackson said calmly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the blonde one said. "I'm Calvin Leuwick and this is my partner Martin Filski."

"Do I need my lawyer for these questions of yours?" Jackson asked. He'd grown up watching the fairly fictional disputes that seemed to solve themselves in court. He knew if he was to questioned by law he did need a lawyer, last time he had needed a lawyer too. That lawyer wasn't good enough to keep him out of Juvi hall though. This time he could quite possibly go to jail.

"No," Calvin said. "We're just asking questions, you are not a suspect, you are not underarrest and you will not be booked. Lawyers are trivial."

"A suspect for what?" Jackson asked.

"We believe Mr. Bueick may have been under the influence the other day at your school. His death may be a homicide."

"You mean intentional murder, right?" Jackson asked. "Because it wasn't a homicide, it was probable cause for self defense."

"Have you been brushing up on your legal terms, Mr. Jackson?" Martin asked, but Jackson didn't like the teasing tone that presented itself in his voice.

"No," Jackson lied.

"Right," Martin drawled. "Do you know anyone that would want to drug your friend?"

"Besides every one?" Jackson asked. "No."

"You are being very resistent, Mr. Jackson," Martin murmured, as though he had almost anticipated Jackson's response.

"Dude, I know you know he was a victim of bullying. Nobody liked him, Mr. Filski. I didn't know him, I didn't know who hated him. Why are you asking me these questions?"

"Do you think that Mr. McGorill would have a motive to intoxicate Mr. Bueick?" Martin asked.

"I think primarily using surnames is ultimately confusing," Jackson stated.

"Answer the question," Martin pressed.

"No, I don't think Eric has a motive," Jackson snapped. "He's been isolated on an island for two months -- he's been back in school for two weeks, man. Why would he have a motive?"

"Sources have revealed they used to be friends," Calvin said.

"Yeah," Jackson agreed. "Melissa used to be his friend, that other kid that he shot used to be his friends. Friends don't have motives."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Melissa was pacing the span of the somewhat small hospital room. "Dude, calm down," Beaver said from the chair that he was seated in. They had taken refuge in Marshal's hospital room when the feds had told them to leave Jackson's room. Taylor remained in the seat she had been in for the past twelve hours and Marshal kept drifting in and out of sleep.

"What if they do something to him," Melissa asked worriedly, edgy.

"Right," Beaver drawled. "What if they beat him to death -- or worst, kidnap him!"

Melissa glanced over at Beaver. "There's things they can do to him," Melissa snapped.

Beaver nodded. "Yeah, since he violated his probation."

"What are we gonna do?" Melissa asked.

"Here's a better question - what can we do?" Beaver murmured, slouching down in the chair and kicking his feet up on Marshal's bed.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Nathan had been unsure of what exactly to do once he'd gone home that fatal day. His mother had insisted on him seeing a psychiatrist, like he wasn't already sure of how he felt. Now Nathan sat uncomfortably on the psychiatrist's leather couch. "So tell me how you're feeling," Dr. Brennan asked. They had insisted that Nathan see the same Doctor because then she'd already know about him, she'd already have enough information that he wouldn't have to elborate about his past and other unhappy memories.

"I just saw a class mate get killed," Nathan mumbled. "How else am I supposed to feel?"

"How do you feel about the prior events?" Dr. Brennan elaborated. "How are you digesting your class mate's reaction to bullying? How are you digesting your fellow classmate's demise?"

"I don't know," Nathan said. "I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one that needs counceling. Shouldn't Jackson be here too? I mean...he kinda killed a kid..."

"Side stepping questions mean you don't like the answer you have," Dr. Brennan pointed out. "You grew up with this nice, caring kid - Chad, and when you get into high school he's not as popular as he should be - judging by his big heart. But you drift from him, and his friends disperse, and everyone unintentionally leaves this poor caring kid alone. What do you think bullies will do to him? Eat him alive, right - because he actually cares. Are you surprised he finally broke?"

"I'm surprised he shot Eric," Nathan admitted. "You don't know their history," he added. "They used to be as close as brothers."

"Sometimes brothers cause rifts between themselves," Dr. Brennan said.

"I know that," Nathan said. "I have brothers. But I'd never do to any of them what Eric did to him."

"What did Eric do to Chad?" Dr. Brennan asked.

"He set him up," Nathan said. "It was very Carrie Rage. They used to crash dances -- Eric used to embrace his unpopularity. They'd go to dances and make this whole mockery of it, sometimes they'd actually make people feel stupid for ever buying into the whole scene. But I don't know what happened between then and the night of this huge eighth grade dance, but Eric changed. He still went to the dance, in his street clothes, with Chad. But suddenly Chad was this huge outsider, and he just stood there, as Eric made fun of him. People joined in, because...they were thirteen. And when Melissa tried to defend him, Eric made fun of her too. And Marshal. They were relentless and then there was this huge finale. They'd gotten Chad alone - when he'd tried to leave and totally dumped a huge vat of tar on him. Eric tarred and feathered Chad, Doctor."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000