Chapter 8 – Beautiful Oblivion: Part I

Ladies and gentlemen here's part one of the chapter, Beautiful Oblivion. This chapter is split into three parts because otherwise it'd be a monster!

The title of this chapter is taken from a line of an Eve 6 song, but I can't remember which one. I don't really even like Eve 6, but "beautiful oblivion" is too good to pass up for a chapter name.

Thanks to those that reviewed the last chapter. Thank you to the new reviewers. Thank you drusillamalfoy. (HP and Buffy are awesome so you have a pretty much perfect name). Thank you Ashalit. (Sign in/sign up so I can reply to your reviews like I do everyone else (sorry 'bout that everyone else, if I get annoying, just tell me)) Thank you . No that awkward space wasn't a mistake. (I don't know who you are but name yourself and sign in/sign up!)

Anyway, before we get to this chapter I'd like everyone to know that I just (and I mean JUST) killed a spider that was crawling on my bed by punching it. It was the coolest thing that's happened all day for me, besides this three-part chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Suite Life series or any characters from the shows.

No one dared speak in the car. It became a silent war zone. Apprehensive eye contact and tense movements clouded the environment. Each Martin had a million things to say but no voice to say it. Each was too stubborn to be the first to say something.

When they arrived at the house it was Kurt who dipped his foot in the water. "We're home." He said. He visibly shook his head after he said it. Of course they were home. Everyone could see that. He felt stupid.

It wasn't until they all began getting bored and uncomfortable with the silence that they actually began talking. Each of them knew they had to address what happened during the day if any one of them wanted closure.

Of course, to Zack, closure wasn't a word.

"Zack, honey, do you want to talk about what happened today?" It was Carey's turn to test the shark-infested waters.

Zack didn't feel anger. Maybe he felt every other emotion, but there was no anger. He was happy that he had seen Cody, even if it was just in his head. He was sad that Cody wasn't real; at lease he didn't answer the question properly. He was embarrassed of what happened on the bus. He knew that everybody would laugh at him and look at him like he was crazy from this day on. Maybe it would be well-warranted.

"No."

Carey looked to Kurt for 'professional' input. He took the cue, "Zack I can understand you're scared and you don't want to talk about it, but if you want it to get better you need to talk about it."

Zack thought he knew exactly what Kurt was trying to do. "You think you're going to get in my head that easily? I'm not stupid! You don't even know what happened! It's not going to get better because I saw my nonexistent brother today. I'm going crazy!" Bile rising in his throat, he realized Kurt had struck again, manipulating his mind in almost scary ways.

"You saw Cory?"

Zack exploded, "Cody! It's not Cory! He hates when people screw up his name! Get it right!" His voice was cracking and breaking with emotion.

"I'm sorry. I just forgot."

"Zack, what did he look like?" Kurt went to the fridge and got Zack a soda and himself a beer, signaling this conversation was going to last a while.

"Just like he always had. Same blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes." Zack had never called any part of his brother beautiful before, but it seemed everything about Cody was beautiful. "He was the same height, maybe a little taller. Still skinny as a toothpick." Zack smiled at the memory, and then frowned. He knew it was a memory of something that proved he was going crazy – or already was. There was nothing funny about it. There was nothing funny about anything.

Carey smiled and nodded, "He sounds just like you. Very handsome."

Zack shrugged the compliment off. He knew that maybe he was being too hard on her. He knew that she was just trying to help. It wasn't her fault that she was married to a psychiatrist that could understand every way he thought about things. She was just trying to connect with him.

"So Zack, what happened on the bus?"

I just told you! "I saw Cody and I ran off." His voice was monotonous, void of emotion.

"They said you broke the door."

Zack stared in awe. He couldn't understand why his father brought that up, "What difference does that make?"

Kurt shrugged, "I just think that's pretty badass." Carey hit him on the shoulder, as expected.

Zack didn't comment. He was in no mood to be joking. He felt like he was being burned at the stake. The extremeheat of the flames that were devouring his insides were beginning to take control.

After a few seconds of letting his smile die, the conversation continued. "What happened after that?"

"I chased him for a little but there were too many people. A couple people got in front of me and then when I looked for him I couldn't see him anymore. I don't know what it means." Each word was a painful struggle. He didn't care about anything. He didn't want to care. All his life he had want, want, wanted and now he only wanted one thing. For everything to go away.

Kurt crossed one leg over another, "What, what means?"

"The hallucination."

Carey chimed in, "Maybe he was trying to tell you to forget about him and move on. The symbolism seems to-"

Zack was vacuously adamant, "No. He'd never want me to forget him. Ever. Even if he isn't real."

Kurt finished a long swig, "Maybe he is real, Zack. Maybe that hallucination wasn't actually a hallucination. Maybe it was a vision."

Zack paused for a moment considering the idea. He shook his head. He knew his father was just trying to help, just trying to make him feel better. The idea was so far-fetched that Zack nearly laughed. How could Cody be real? The doctors said he was just a dream. "Right. And next semester I'm going to Seven Seas High on the SS Tipton." Every word was tearing part of his soul away. It was becoming a chore to even speak. Zack knew this was called depression.

He never realized how quickly it could come on, depression. One moment he had been sad, yes, but there was still color in the world. Birds still chirped. Now, every detail was gone. He felt like a near-blind man taking his glasses off. Everything was blurry and dim.

"Then what happened, Zack?"

Zack took a deep breath, trying to clear the fire in his lungs. I didn't work. "Well then I started crying and I was punching the sidewalk-"

"Is that why you're knuckles are so bloody?"

Zack nodded, examining his colorless knuckles, coated in think and grey blood. The mention of his hands made them hurt with a new wave of pain. "Can I just go to my room? I just want to be by myself for a while."

An exchange of glances, then a nod, "Of course."

Zack took the stairs by ones instead of twos and worked his way towards his room. For the first time he noticed how grey the what-had-been-burgundy walls were.

He found some form of refuge in his bed, pulled the cover over his head and cried. He thought he had cried enough in that school bathroom but this time each eye released a torrent of water from God knows where. With some kind of disturbed humor Zack thought he might go dehydrated.

I'm crazy. There's no other word for it. I'm seeing things. I'm dreaming things. Why can't I just be normal? It's like someone is just laughing at me. Somewhere up in that big grey sky someone is laughing at me. How could I have thought that Cody was real? I knew he was too good of a brother to me. I didn't deserve him and look what happened.

The tears were soaking his shirt. As they dried on his face he could feel the salt residue forming a brittle plaster over his face.

Zack's mind shut down. He couldn't even think anymore. His body began shaking uncontrollably. With pained speed he grabbed the trash bin in the room and emptied his guts into it. The grey and beige chunks seemed to greatly represent what he was feeling.

Zack's life was just like that vomit. Stinking, dirty, an uninviting mess. The only purpose it served was to be thrown in the trash or flushed down the toilet.

At the thought of a toilet, Zack felt immense pressure on his bladder. He got up and plodded down the hallway towards the bathroom.

"What do you think is wrong with him?" Carey knew that her choice of words may have been a little harsh, but she knew Zack couldn't hear her.

"Nothing is wrong with him Carey. He's just troubled. He needs help. He's seeing things. He's paranoid. Literally, like he's got paranoia."

Carey sighed, "I just wish we'd have our Zack back."

"Carey, don't say that. We do have our Zack back. We should be thankful he's alive and not a vegetable."

"I've been wondering Kurt. Should we be thankful?" Carey didn't know where this sudden burst of pessimism was coming from, but she could feel it was real.

"Carey! Would you just look at the bright side?"

"What bright side, Kurt? Zack's gone. Mentally gone. He doesn't remember anything. We're just two faces to him. He's just a face to us. He's not our son."

Kurt was horrified. Never had Carey ever said something this plain mean, ignorant, and insensitive, "Stop it! Right now, Carey. Stop. Zack is right there up in his room and don't say he isn't! He's our kid. He may be a little different but he's our kid and that's something that will never change."

Carey shook her head through her tears. "A little different? Kurt, he's not the same. He's not our son. Zack died a long time ago. Our son died in that car accident, Kurt."

Both of them grew deathly silent as they heard a groaning and moaning creak. They both knew that the top stair was beginning to squeak. It was "singing" as Carey's mother would say.

Neither of them wanted to believe it. Neither of them wanted to turn their heads and look up that stairway, but for some reason, they both did. Carey's eyes remained cold and hard as she stared into the face of her dead son. Kurt's eyes filled with sorrow and embarrassment for his wife, and rage against her.

Zack choked back a sob and charged into his room, slamming the door. He locked it and barricaded it with a wooden chair.

Kurt flew up the stairs by threes.

Zack looked around his room. He considered jumping out the window and running away, but he knew he wouldn't be able to run after a two story fall.

Kurt reached the door way, knocking, "Zack? Zack let me in, please. Let's talk. Your mother didn't mean it."

Zack knew perfectly well what she meant. Then, gleaming and glistening, his eyes spotted the razor blade on his dresser. He didn't know where it came from, but in a split second he knew what had to be done.

Kurt banged on the door. He tried to turn the knob but it wouldn't work.

Zack made his way across the room. "Carey's right. I am dead. At least I will be soon."

Kurt heard his whispered comment and assaulted the door with desperate fervor.

Zack heard the chair creak once in effort of holding the door closed.

Kurt began kicking, pleased when the hinges began loosening.

Zack reached out for the razor blade.

Kurt threw his body weight against the door with the force of a pro-bowl linebacker. The hinges were completely separated from the frame but an unseen barricade still blocked him.

Zack gripped the blade and looked at it. He laughed dryly seeing the company's name. 'CM Industries'

Kurt broke the door down.

Zack pressed the knife to his throat, not wanting to take a chance on his wrists.

Kurt bunched his muscles to sprint.

Zack increased the pressure, about to slice. A bead of crimson meandered from a small scratch.

Kurt covered the distance in record speed and tackled Zack to the ground. Zack's head slammed against the floor and everything went black for him. For Kurt, there was too much color. Despite the razor blade falling to the floor, Kurt could see a small stream of blood was already escaping from a miniscule cut.

Kurt grabbed a cotton shirt and pressed it to his son's neck. Everything was moving in fast-forward. His brain didn't – couldn't – take the time to process details. It was a race against time.

Even though the cut was small Kurt knew that blood could pour out of it quite quickly. He slung the hardly-animated body over his shoulder and rushed downstairs.

"What happened?"

Kurt glared at her, "My son tried to kill himself. He was just trying to give you your wish."

"I never wanted…"

"But look what you got!" Kurt's voice cracked like a fourteen-year-old boy's, but he wasted no more time in setting Zack down in the back seat and getting into his BMW and tearing out of the driveway, leaving Carey reaching for the passenger door handle.

Hmm... I wonder what I'm planning? Will Zack live? Will Zack die? What's going on with Carey? What's Kurt's reaction to this whole thing? You will find answers to these questions, and the most important one, in the other parts of this chapter.

Did you guys like how I did the Zack/Kurt thing there? Or did you find it annoying and distracting? I'd like to know, just for future reference.