Falling Through the Cracks
by Aimme,
with touches by My Note Book
Summary: His mask was flawless. His walls were perfectly structured. Protection and cautionary containment at its finest. Even a perfect pretend held fractures, though, and no matter how strong his glue, under the right circumstances, glue cracked and had to be gutted and filled in again.
Author's Note:I do not know what to say about this chapter. I did not have much time to write it, as a couple of friends came down last Thursday as a late birthday present, but it was a long, extended weekend. They stayed until Monday, and I enjoyed every minute of it, but that also meant no writing. I didn't have any time on Monday, either, because it was the 4th and we had family time. So, truly, I wrote this chapter between yesterday and today. I started off writing it in past tense, but, due to having written in present tense in other chapters, it kept trying to switch tenses on me. I think I caught all the places that happened and it is all in past tense, now, but if you notice anything, let me know!
BlackKeys96, it is indeed sad how much that "Voice" has control over Zack. He needs to be set free of it, but I am not sure when such will/would happen. I am glad the emotions came through, and you could feel it all right along with Zack. The "Voice" does indeed play with his head, tricking him and turning things back around on him, using his own insecurities as a person, himself as a human, against him, to destroy and ruin him. I am grateful for your review, and truly flattered that you were amazed at the work of the last chapter! I hope this chapter has a few answers, maybe some more questions, and definitely more enjoyment for you!
alexaokami, I wanted to thank you, also on behalf of My Note Book, for reviewing! Your review was very complimenting, and we appreciated you taking the time to tell us some of your thoughts! I hope you continue to enjoy it!
Hm...yay for more Cody?
-0-
Chapter Fourteen - Scattered In a Million Pieces In the Other Direction
-0-
Why do I feel I have missed something?
Why, when I have known so much,
Do I have this fear quietly whispering
That now more than ever, I have never been farther out of touch?
A tight ball of restless, agitated energy tightening his gut, he paced. And paced. He wasn't sure how long he had been, but a good five minutes had to have passed, right? Maybe it was only two, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was his predicament -namely, his brother- and his inability to resolve the situation from where he was, and as is, but his uselessness grated on his nerves, that he should be so idle, and thus he paced. He had to do something.
So why wasn't it helping? Why was there something, something…twisting, eating at him, turning his heart over on itself several times…something, something whispering and rubbing him the wrong way, so that all of his eased mindset had flown out the porthole a few feet away and sunk into the depths of the deep blue sea sparkling in the clear day outside.
He could not pin it down, nor could he squash the uneasy hollow gaping in his gut, bludgeoning him into pacing and worrying his lip and fretting. His disturbed persona filled the quiet, empty hall, but its lack of others did not register in his mind. A fisted hand rested against his mouth, the other at his side fluctuated between tensed as such and tightly stretched out flat, and his feet wore a path in the printed carpet.
In truth, he believed he would much rather have the gut-wrenching truth, the heart-cutting facts of the situation. However, he dared himself to believe he had them, and scarcely allowed himself to doubt his twin's story. And he may be in denial, but it was a comforting place, and in his state, it was his only consolation.
He refused to acknowledge any possibility that he was in denial, and he told himself off if he did any less than live up to his dare to believe and instead let himself give in to doubt.
What reason did he have to doubt his brother's words? Zack was a walking hazard, one accident after another simply waiting to happen.
Yes, this was fitting…and yes, he liked this explanation. This was one he could live with, so he would and he would do no less and no else.
'But what if not?' That slithery, slick-toned Voice caught him off guard, and he was shocked to feel his heart rush into harsh pounding.
No, no. He wouldn't listen to his doubt. That was all that taunting, cold Voice was…all. Nothing else. Nothing more.
Then why did his skin chill? Why could he swear he had heard the echo of a malicious laugh, far-off and faint, as if someone beside him had…No, the hall was empty.
Fantastic. Now he was losing his head because he was worried.
'Yeah, that's it…' now came the sarcasm. He really should…
No. He shook his head. What was wrong with him? He was being irrational and weird. His mind was too preoccupied, too much, too quickly, having happened today. It needed to be over, and he needed to set this Zack situation to rights and be on his way… Yes, because he could set it to rights, and they would forget it had happened… yes, yes, he liked that plan.
'Most excellent.'
He blinked. He had been over this, there was…
"Cody!"
Startled from his pacing and his thinking, his head snapped up, the hair on his chilled skin raising, goose-bumps running up and down his arms and his fast-paced heart shifting into a higher gear and revving its speed for all it was worth.
"Bailey!" he had scarcely had her name out of his mouth before his arms were full of upset, crying, shaking girlfriend. He really did not like this…and that bad feeling…
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she clutched him tightly and kept repeating, and his wide-eyed gaze stared down the hall behind her…down the hall towards the infirmary where his brother, his brother…
Terror-panic-pain.
Shaken, he snapped back from the odd flash, blinking his eyes. What…what was that?
"What's wrong, Bails?" he tried to ask as gently as possible, but his voice trembled in the wake of a sudden fear that gripped him. His blood ran cold, and he did not know what it was to not be so shaken and terrified.
Bailey was coming undone.
Since when did his Southern Belle burst at the seams in sobs and shakings?
"Cody…but Zack…Zack…"
Oh god, no.
He completely froze, his gaze locked down the hall she had rushed down, the hall which towards the other end, a locked door was between him and his dratted brother.
"What?" he asked in a tight voice, barely restrained emotions pushing to be let out.
"I'm so sorry about Zack," she hiccupped, trying to calm.
He felt all of his fear escalate, rising from its place at the back of his mind to fill his whole consciousness with screaming. Indeed, he feared the worst, and the fear was the worst he had ever felt. This was worse than the monsters under his bed that would not leave without his room being scrubbed with holy water (he knew now that his mother had never come by holy water, but that is beside the point); this was worse than the time Drew and his stupid crew threatened to haul off and knock him flat in front of the whole school cafeteria and ruin his homework because he and his twin had kicked them out of the Tipton (thankfully, they had only threatened him once, but that is neither here nor there). This was worse than the time their father had left them at the playground when they were four and they were there for two hours, alone, before their mother showed up (he barely remembers this, but the fear and feeling better that his brother was near are echoes in his memory).
And this was definitely worse than when Zack had tumbled off the monkey-bars at the playground when they were six and couldn't, at first, breathe again.
For Bailey had barrelled down the hall from the direction of the infirmary, sobbing over Zack, and he could not deny he was suitably terrified for his brother's wellbeing, or, as he feared, the lack thereof.
"Bails," he had to force her name out, past his tightening throat. "Bails, what about Zack?"
She sniffed and pulled back, confusion marring her smooth brow, running furrows between her eyes. "But, Cody…Cody, surely you know…"
"Know? Bails, what do I know?" he asked, a miserable note eating away at his heart.
She stared at him, and then, through trembling lips, pronounced, "Zack is dying."
The sun darkened, his world dropped out, and everything felt as though it had shattered. His chest caved in, his heart scattered in a million pieces in the other direction, towards the infirmary, and he felt as though this was a nightmare he wished he could -oh wished, if only he could- wake up from.
He stumbled back from her, as if she had punched him in the gut. "Wh…what?" he whispered, shell-shocked.
No, no, it couldn't be…
'Oh but it could.'
He did not know what was wrong with his brother -'certainly more than you are willing to admit'- and Bailey could only have come from the infirmary.
"Bails…what…what do you mean?" he stared at her, unable to comprehend the unthinkable. He was just with his brother…his brother who had promptly, unexpectedly, unexplainably keeled over in the infirmary after bleeding from an "accident"…
He felt trapped, unable to move. It was tight, so tight…claustrophobic…trapped…
He blinked, his mind jerking back to this moment. Confused, a little unnerved, he tried to wave off that sudden feeling of panic. But his brother dying was something to panic over…
His brother…dying…oh sweet life! Tears pricked his eyes.
"Cody, I'm so sorry," he heard her voice, he stared at her face, but it didn't really register.
Confined. And he hated being confined. But there was no way out…
He couldn't wake up from this, he knew. There was absolutely no way.
He wanted to run far away…so very far away…
'Maybe you should.'
Horror-revulsion-pain.
He bit back a sob, feeling his chest tighten. The air was stifling, thick, and he felt his mind shying away from the horror. Why had this happened to him? His brother couldn't be dying, he couldn't…
'Oh, stop denying it…'
He couldn't win. He couldn't.
Why did he feel so utterly trapped? He was helpless, useless. What had happened? Why?
He felt her hand on his arm, and something inside of him loosened, a weight, which still pressed heavily down, did not close in so closely. His mind surfaced, but still reeled.
"Bailey?" he pressed, looking for answers.
"Cody," she answered, waiting for him.
He licked his lips, trying to process what was going on. But he couldn't, couldn't…there was no way he could rise above this…
'There is no getting back up from here.'
He crumpled, slipping to the ground in disbelief, inability to take it in. His whole world had tunnelled into one aspect, and the words echoed harshly in his head in time with his pounding heart, which hammered in his ears and blocked out all other sounds. Zack is dying…Zack is dying…dying…
He shuddered, followed by a heartless sob…because his heart…his heart resided in that stupid room, behind that dratted door, with his infuriating…beloved brother…his heart cramped and ached in his chest, but it was with his twin.
'You're falling apart.'
Oh and he knows it. Well, so very well, does he know it.
The deadly promise of losing, losing, pressed down on him.
Had it always been this hard to breathe? It was hard, so very hard, to breathe…
He tried to force a deep breath into his lungs, willing something normal to happen, but it cannot relieve how heavy the weight is which was crushing his diaphragm. The air rushed into his dense lungs, but his chest was tight, so tight…
Surely he was sweating now, but regardless, Bailey's hand felt cool to his forehead and her presence something to anchor him.
He looked at her, feeling utterly miserable and he could not think rationally past that. Her eyes, red-rimmed and teary, met his and he willed himself to focus on that, something to ground himself to…
'Oh so useless…'
And he was. He was. His brother, dying? There was nothing he could do about it. He was useless.
'That's right…'
Where was a handy corner to curl up in? A place to forget the world? He wanted to fight back, but his will was draining away…there wasn't anything he could do, and so lazing in this misery seemed well enough…it was all he had.
But Bailey's hand running through his hair, her hitched breathing, her presence reaching him through the cloud around him, Bailey, was there. He had these things. He had something.
Not his brother, though. He felt so far out of touch, and he wondered when that had happened…then chalked it up to the pressing knowledge that all too soon, he would not be able to talk to his brother or speak to his brother or fight with his brother.
'And it's so fitting…'
He closed his eyes against the voice of his regret, a bile in his throat, as it whispered softly at the very edges of him. He didn't want to acknowledge it.
With a sheer amount of will, he pulled himself back, farther, farther, away from that edge, putting distance between him and what lay beyond it.
Finally, he opened his eyes to stare into Bailey's worried hazels, a helpless tear tracking down his face.
"H-how?" he managed to ask, only one word, but he needed to know…how did she know? How was his brother dying?
"Come on," she said instead, encouraging him to his feet, but he felt light-headed for a moment as he gained his feet. He feared he may not be able to stand, but the bout passed and he was steady.
"Bails," he intoned, gripping her arm. "How?" he reiterated, whilst firmly telling himself he can handle this, he can keep his head… He told himself to keep breathing, to simply keep breathing.
She searched his face for a moment, then turned him towards the bench he had abandoned, which still held a clipboard of patient information he was not, really, supposed to be filling out.
"I don't know, Cody," she began as they sunk down onto the bench. She stared at her hands, hitched breath telling of her own tenuous hold on her emotions. "I just don't know. This day has been so strange…I was waiting for you to come back, and then Woody came running up to inform me why you weren't there."
His own breathing hitched for a moment, a flash of panic and then it was gone. A distant echo, something to the effect of 'she knows' whispered at the cloudy haze between subconscious and conscious, but he did not pay attention to the resonant, past sound.
Her hand slipped into his, an anxious grip he quickly returned, for the anchor it provided him.
He tried to calm, to simply breathe, but something told him it was not working…it's not working…
"Bailey," he began thickly, forcing himself to speak, to get through. "Bailey, Woody told you what?"
"That Zack is dying. Cody, what is he dying of?" She tightened her grip on his hand, but he told himself to relax.
"Woody…Woody told you…" he repeated, trying to tell himself to feel relieved, to let the tension and fear and horror go. "Bailey, Woody told you…"
"Yes, Cody," she confirmed softly, as if he was not grasping what she was saying.
She was not grasping what he meant. "Bailey, how did Woody know?" he asked, and only after the words left his mouth, did he realise what it sounded like.
A hitched sob answered him for a moment, as his words confirmed her fears and nightmares. "He saw you dragging Zack to the infirmary," she began.
He groaned, nearly slapping his forehead.
He had nothing to fear. It was Woody, for crying out loud!
'Give up trying to convince yourself…'
As before, he ignored this snide voice, such a soft, far-off sound, barely heard—but this was one that was determined to steal his hope as vestiges of him, down so low he could hardly breathe, believed he was not worthy of hope. He hardly noticed it, pulling himself farther, farther, away from the edges of himself and all that lay beyond it.
He refused to let himself realise he was refusing to think about what lay beyond those edges.
But for one terrifying moment, lasting a time he could not pin-point, he couldn't breathe again, and then with an audible snap inside of him, he felt his withdraw complete; in fact, it happened so suddenly, it almost felt as if the air was knocked out of him.
Panic-horror-pain.
Claustrophobic, a weight, inability to breathe…to breathe…
Panic, panic, panic.
His head spun as his vision abruptly tunnelled, nearly the whole world blinking out in an expanse of dark, his stomach turning and his heart burning, then everything snapped back into focus, he grounded himself in the middle, but his heart lurched in the other direction and screamed a terrified cry.
"ZACK!"
There must be something more,
Behind all the mist and haze I thought to be clear view,
A vista stretched, detailed to the core,
But something taunts me, tells me, I don't know you
-0-
Author's Note: No, of course I couldn't give you readers more resolution and closure yet! Of course I have to drag out the suspense... Besides that, what did you think? Having had so little time, myself, to ponder this chapter and what has been written, plus sporting a magnificent headache that makes thinking about this all somewhat difficult, I am not entirely certain of this chapter yet, as I have not had time to learn it...if that makes sense. If it doesn't, blame the headache and be on your way to the review button or the "close this tab/browser" button...
If memory serves (which, even without a headache, I cannot always guarantee that), there was no interesting vocabulary for this chapter. Plain old, common, every day English...ah, well...what can you do?
Until (hopefully) next week, farewell!