I'm Right Here by Rose Haze

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

Author's Note: Remember me? If not, I can't say I blame you. It's been quite awhile. But I'll spare the sob story and just give you the actual story. Hope my readers are still out there…

Ooooh, I do have something to say to all my fellow writers out there! November is coming up. That is the National Novel Writing Month. I'm doing nanowrimo which is when a bunch of people all over the nation (world now) write a novel in one month. I think it would be really awesome if you guys did it too. I've never done it before, but I think it will be fun. So if you are interested go to Nanowrimo dot org and sign up! And PM me and we can be writing buddies and vent our writing sorrows and share our writing joys and have a wonderful time doing so, lol.

And while we're on the subject of Nanowrimo and writers in general, if anyone is interested in writing outside of the fanfiction world, could you possibly e-mail me? I belong to this writing website and it is on the brink of death and we need new members!

Now, onto the story!

Chapter 27

Into the Night

"I need a little room to breathe/ Cause I'm one step closer to the edge/ And I'm about to break" -- Linkin Park

The beeps and hisses and whirs of the various medical equipment were drowned out by the sounds of Zack's sobs. He was hunched over Cody's still body, crying in a way that he had never done before. His breathing was hitched. Every sob was tore a sharp pain into his chest, like a sword. Tears gathered like pools in his eyes and slid down his cheeks, a messy embodiment of emotional pain. His cries were loud, gut-wrenching wails. He cried until he could not remember why he was crying.

"Zack?" came a soft voice from above him, "Zack, what's the matter? Tell me what's wrong!"

A pair of hands rested on his shoulder and the back of his neck. He shrugged them away.

"Honey, talk to me."

Zack buried his face in the crook of Cody's arm. His entire body was shaking, as if he were cold. But he wasn't cold. He wasn't hot. He wasn't anything but the mess of tears and sobs that sent his body into convulsions.

Carey stared at him, wondering what could have possibly triggered the outburst. A quick, but thorough glance at Cody and all of his charts let her know that there was no change in his condition.

'He's stressed,' Carey realized, 'He's been through too much in the last few days—more than he's ever been through in his life. He's reached his breaking point.'

"Come here," she whispered, prying him away from the hospital bed and into her arms.

Zack gave up on his struggle and fell into his mom's embrace. He turned around to face her and wrapped his arms around her neck.

"M-mom," he choked out, "I'm sorry."

"Shh," she whispered, leading him to her chair. She sat down and pulled him into her lap. She ran her hand through his hair and rubbed his back.

"It's okay," she said over and over in her most soothing voice, "Everything's going to be okay."

Carey remembered back when she and Kurt just divorced, what an emotional wreck Zack had been. He would often cry himself to sleep, only to be reawakened by nightmares which would send him into another crying fit. It had been Cody who could instantly console him, but Carey herself had spent many nights holding him like she was now. As much as she hated seeing him so miserable, she loved being able to save him. And now, she realized how much she missed being able to comfort him when he was in pain.

"I'm so sorry," he wailed again.

She looked down at him and pressed her forehead against his, "What are you sorry for?"

He opened his tearful blue eyes which were bloodshot red, "Everything. Dad—I hate him."

Carey frowned, not sure how hating Kurt was aligned to Zack apologizing for "everything."

"He—he was never there," Zack continued. It was still hard to understand him through his tears, "You—he—I was worth it—to you—but not him. And I'm sorry I caused so much trouble all the time. I'm sorry I made you—Cody get hit."

"Oh, Zack," she said, holding him close to her, "You know I don't blame you for that."

"I—do," he sobbed, "I blame me."

Carey kissed the top of his head. She couldn't really understand what it was that Zack was trying to tell her—only that it had something to do with Kurt.

She squeezed Zack's shoulder as he continued to cry, "Let it out, Zack," she told him in her gentlest voice, "let it all out."

He did. For a long time, he cried in his mother's arms. He shed many tears for Cody, but more for himself. For the fact that his father hated him and the only person who truly loved him was clinging to life by an ever thinning thread.

When he ran out of tears, his breath still came out in soft, devastated yelps. Then finally, even that evened out.

Zack was asleep before he stopped crying.

Carey sighed and looked down at him. He was sleeping fitfully in her lap with his head against her shoulder. She knew that he was too heavy for her to move him, and she did not want to wake him up. It had been far too long since the last time he got a decent amount of sleep. She leaned against the back of the chair and closed her eyes.

'Might as well get comfortable,' she thought, 'I might be here for a long time.'

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Kurt stared out, into the blackness of the night. With Samantha at his side, he drove through the crowded Boston streets. Although he kept his eyes glued to the road, all he could see was the disappointment and hurt that dominated Zack's face.

"He must have overheard the fight," he whispered, breaking the silence that hung in the car.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Samantha said gently, "I shouldn't have fought with Carey."

"It's not your fault," he admitted as he flipped on the turn signal, "none of us did a great job at controlling our tempers."

"Talk to Zack when we go back the hospital tomorrow," Samantha whispered, "Explain to him the situation—you divorced Carey. Not the twins."

He sighed and turned onto the overpass that led to Cambridge Falls, "He won't listen to me. I've tried to tell him that I want to be apart of his life."

"You have to show him."

"Show don't tell," Kurt mused. He cast Samantha a sideways glance, "Good to see that your college Creative Writing courses paid off."

She smirked, "Too bad the same can't be said about the Intro to Floral Design class you took you junior year."

"I'm wounded," Kurt joked, "And I'll have you know that I can make round mounds and corsages with the best of them."

"Sure," Samantha laughed, "Keep telling yourself that."

Kurt smiled at her, relieved for the moment of normalcy. There had been a complete lack of flirtatious banter ever since they left for Boston.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Sam," he said seriously.
Samantha laid her hand over his on the stick shift, "Let's not find out."

"You know," he said, "My life was so much easier last week. All I had to worry about was making sure that Leena was pulling the right facts from the Stewart verses Todd case of 1976. Now… I have one son in a coma and another one who hates me."

"I guess this is what it's like to be a parent."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed as he pulled into the parking lot of the Tipton, "I guess you're right."

To Be Continued…

A/N Please review!

Up next: Chapter Twenty-Eight: The More I Hear