Chapter 12 – Coming True

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

When the doctor left Carey's interrogation continued, "So explain to me how you have a twin brother."

Zack just smiled. He knew he wasn't the one who needed to explain. He just looked at Kurt and smiled. He didn't really know why he found it so funny. It wasn't, but it just felt so right. To him, it was like he needed to hate his father for something. All his life, or what he thought was his life, he had resented the fact that Kurt nearly disappeared from their life. Now, he knew he was throwing away any chance of ever getting close with his father, but it felt right. And that might have been even more important to Zack. "I think I'll let Kurt handle this one."

Carey noticed that Zack said Kurt. While he still usually referred to Carey as Carey, Kurt had been Dad. At least until now. It was the small things she noticed, not always the bigger ones.

Kurt took a deep breath and braced himself for the coming storm. "Cody isn't Zack's twin. Cody is Zack's half brother."

Carey stared at him, she still didn't understand. "What? I don't get it? Like he's yours? Cause he's sure as hell not mine. I've only given birth once."

Kurt swallowed the visible lump in his throat, "Carey, I was young and stupid. It was sixteen years ago. I'm sorry. I know that's not enough. I know you won't ever-"

"Kurt, what are you telling me?"

Zack refrained from laughing. He didn't even want to shift his position in fear that they'd take the conversation elsewhere. He wanted to hear every syllable of this talk. It was his right.

"Sixteen years ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I… I had been drinking and this woman sort of… took advantage of me."

Zack fought valiantly against of snort or a scoff, it was impossible to tell.

"Took advantage of you? You mean you were with another woman?" Carey was just beginning to take a full understanding of the topic. Her voice was starting to rise, in volume and in octave.

"Yes, Carey. I was young and stupid. Her name was Margaret Wheeler and-"

"You were young and stupid but you remember her name?" Her face was reddening. Zack knew full well it did that when she got angry. He probably knew better than she did.

"Yes. The guilt wont let me forget it. It was just one time and I never thought… I knew it'd never happen again. I knew I loved you. I didn't tell you because I knew it would never happen again. I guess I didn't think it was important." He nearly did a face-palm after the last line. He knew he had doomed himself with that one. Of course it was important. A child could tell you that.

"Not important? Not important!" She threw her arms up and scoffed, "How is it not important?"

"That's not what I meant." Kurt tried to comfort his wife but she wouldn't let him anywhere near her. Truly he meant what he said. It had been the biggest mistake of his life and he really did regret it, but he knew that no amount of regret could turn back time. From the bottom of his stomach a feeling of hopelessness and apocalyptic change was emanating strongly. For him it was the end of the world, as he knew it. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he knew Carey and this was grounds for divorce.

"Kurt just…" She left the sentence unfinished and wiped the tears, hot and full of anger, that were beginning to blur her vision. She turned around and left the room in a blaze of glory, not realizing she was walking past the half-son she never knew she had.

Kurt made a sorrowful eye contact with Zack before noticing Cody was there. For a split second he debated staying and talking to Cody, but he knew if there was to be any closure he'd have to go after his wife.

Unfortunately when Kurt went for the door, he was stopped. Cody wasn't large, still tall and lanky, but he filled the doorway with the mass of ten men. He stopped Kurt by placing a palm in the center of his chest and brought his other hand, in a fist, across his face with all his might.

Kurt's head wheeled around and he raised his hand to the sore spot, "I suppose I deserved that."

Cody nodded and replied with another punch, straight into his gut.

Kurt doubled over, face filled with pain, and groaned. "I might have deserved that too."

Zack stared in awe. Cody, the one he knew, had never displayed any kind of angry violence toward anybody or anything – not seriously, at least. He found himself nodding as he realized that his world was going to be full of changes and it was going to be one hell of an adventure piecing it back together.

"Yeah, you did deserve that." Cody tried to put on an aggressive face and take a threatening stance, meeting eye level, with his father, but the pain in his hand nearly made it impossible.

"Cody, I'm sorry." Kurt changed his plan of action. He knew that maybe it was for the better. Nothing good ever came out of chasing after somebody when they storm out of a room.

"Sorry? Sorry for me being born? Sorry for leaving us?"

"You have to understand that I couldn't stay with you. I never meant for anything to happen."

Cody threw his arms out, all to similarly to the way Carey had done. "Well that just makes everything better."

"Cody-"

"You're not my father. You know how I can tell? When you say my name, that's all it is. It's just a name to you. Cody. It doesn't mean anything. When Zack first said my name, before he told me we were brothers, I already believed him. Maybe I didn't admit it to myself, let alone him, but I knew I already believed him. And I believed him because I could hear it in his voice. When he said my name, it meant something to him. To him, Cody isn't just a name. It's a person. It's a person you love. It's memories. It's you're whole life."

Zack did his best to catch his brother's eye, but to no avail. Cody was far too focused. Instead, Zack was reduced to tears. Cody words had been true. To Zack, Cody was everything.

"Cody, there's nothing I can say to make you forgive me, I know that. But I am sorry."

"You know, all my life I dreamt of meeting my father. I wanted to meet him and see what he was like. Maybe actually get to know him, you know? Be friends. But now, I know that was all just one big dream. Now I realize it doesn't even matter."

Cody gave Zack a, what could have been, never-ending look. In the eye contact he said sorry. He said I'll see you again soon. He said I believe you. He said I trust you. Then, he turned and left the room.

Both Zack and Cody's heads hurt – in unison – over what had just happened.

"Alright, Marion, you're a free man. Well almost at least, but that's good enough for you."

Moseby smiled, in pure joy. He stopped listening at 'free man'. The thought was like a myth to him. A jailblock legend. He had only been behind bars for two and a half years, but it was enough to make him want out. Badly.

He was escorted out of the building that had been his home for the past thirty months. That stone and cement and metal room held a single, blended memory. That's how he knew it wasn't a home. A home was where many memories, smiles and laughter were made. That room was a single day and time had been nonexistent. The only sense of purpose: three meals a day and an hour of outside time.

Marion Moseby knew he wasn't all the way free though, as the man had told him. Of course he wouldn't be allowed to drink for a while. And his license was probably going to be suspended, but it didn't matter. It was the dirt and the wind and the water – the rain – it was the sunlight and the moonlight and starlight. It was the freedom to move and to run and to stretch his nearly atrophied legs.

All those thirty months ago he had been drunk, driving. He hit a girl and she died in the hospital. Vehicular manslaughter and driving under the influence of alcohol. It wasn't a charge that warranted years upon years and a whole lifetime in prison but the sentence he had been given. Those five years – had seemed daunting at first. But he had only served half of the time, let out on good behavior. It was funny how it worked, really, he'd be back on the road and maybe back in bars and clubs before his original sentence was up. Crazy how justice works.

Those five daunting years, they had haunted him for a while. The first year, it had been the hardest. Adjusting to life behind bars was difficult. It didn't take too long, maybe a few weeks, before his body nearly shut down altogether. Twenty-four hours became twenty hours of sleep. He had been bored, that was the worst part. There was nothing to do, but sit and think. The boredom had consumed him like an animal, until he was one with it.

That had been the remaining time. His union with boredom itself had been the most liberating thing – a revolution of its own – during his entire time there. The time had passed with a dream-like quality: confusion, blur, and no sense of anything. He had receded into the depths of his mind and readjusted the core of his being. It was a renaissance. A new Marion Moseby had been born – at least the foundation. Then, the groundwork began. His good behavior and interest in every activity granted him freedom in half the assigned time. The foundation for the new Moseby had been laid. But there was still work to do.

He knew there was still work to do. He needed a job. He needed some money. He needed a sense of purpose and then he could begin thinking about other things. Friends would come and go along the way, as they always did. But family, that couldn't even be a word until he was stable and comfortable. A job. That's what he needed first. He prayed and prayed and prayed to anybody and everything that he'd find a good job quickly.

His prayers were answered upon exiting the building.

A black limo, like a bullet or a sign on the horizon. As he walked across the parking lot, inevitably towards the silently rumbling car, the window descended. A man holding a crystal glass filled with some transparent yellowish and brownish liquid, smiling from inside the climate-controlled car.

"Marion Moseby." The man's voice wasn't loud but it was one that commanded respect, a sort of dignified voice.

Moseby quick looked around before staring back into the man's eyes, "Yes?"

"Get in the car, please. I'd like to speak with you."

Moseby laughed, "Why would I do that? I don't want to get into any kind of trouble." He motioned to the prison, "I just got out."

The man nodded, "I know you just got out, that's why I'm here. I want to speak with you. And you'll get in because you want a job. Correction, need a job. And I can give you one."

Moseby nodded slowly, "Only if it's a legal job. I'm not doing anything that'll put me back in there."

The man smiled back at him, "Of course. That's precisely why you're so perfect for the job. I could find anyone to do it, but I need somebody that truly wants order and knows the meaning of the word discipline."

Moseby couldn't deny it. He did know the meaning of the word discipline. Between his childhood and the past two and a half years he knew the meaning of that word well. Without a word, he got in the car and it started driving away.

The man offered Moseby a drink. It was his last and final test. He knew Marion Moseby had been somewhat of an alcoholic and the temptation of a fine cognac would be hard to resist. "Brandy? French, about a hundred and forty years old." The man poured himself a glass and extended the bottle towards the man sitting next to him.

Moseby paused for a minute and wet his lips with his tongue. Then, he shook his head, "No thank you."

The man smiled and sighed as he put the bottle back. He sipped his drink and then started speaking, "That was a test, you know."

Moseby sat, still and silent.

"My name is Wilfred Tipton. I am the president of Tipton Industries. We are a relatively new company, but we're growing fast. We started out here in Boston and now we've got a few offices across the nation and even a few in Europe. We're the fastest growing American company right now."

Moseby nodded, "Congratulations."

"Oh come now, don't say things you don't mean. Anyway, at Tipton Industries I pride myself in taking ideas and combining them into new ideas, unheard-of ideas. My newest project," he projected his hands in front of him and spread them apart slowly as if unveiling something, "high school aboard a cruise ship. A privately-funded, independent school boasting some of the best teachers whom have been granted high-end resources. Of course tying directly into certain curriculums and to enrich the lives of students, the ship will make stops around the world for certain recreational and educational events. It's a boarding school of sorts, and a study abroad program of sorts. Quite original isn't it?"

Moseby nodded eyeing the cognac, "Yes, it is. Actually that's a very good idea."

Wilfred Tipton smiled, "Thank you. Anyhow, I've had assembled a cruise ship. The SS Tipton. The finer details of it are being added as we speak but she'll be ready in a few days. As of then, I'll need teachers, crew, and other staff, not to mention a few students to test-drive the program. But in the meantime I need a partner who would be willing to act as a medium between the project and I. Of course, after it's all finished you could undertake responsibilities of manager and chaperone aboard the ship. I've done some thorough background checking and I think you fit my bill just perfectly. What do you say?"

Moseby couldn't believe his ears. Suddenly, the cognac seemed so far away, so insignificant. He had just been offered a job. An important-sounding job. There were details of course, no doubt there'd be find print, but a job was a job. "Well, how does it pay?"

"Oh Marion, may I call you that? That's something you won't have to worry about. I'll happily pay you. No doubt it'll be more than you'd find anywhere else. I can't put a certain value on it, but depending on your work I'd say between eighty and a hundred-twenty-thousand a year sounds about right."

Moseby's eyes bulged. That was more money than he had ever made at a job. In his mind, the decision had been made. He was now officially an employee of Wilfred Tipton. He'd play skeptical, though, just seem like he wasn't desperate.

"Well that does sound about right, I suppose."

Wilfred laughed, "Good. Good. You don't mind if I bring you to the offices then?"

Moseby shook his head, smiling, and the two shrank back into the plush leather and tinted windows. Wilfred enjoyed the most expensive brandy he could find and Moseby enjoyed the sights and the smells. They were of success, not depression and failure. It was a good feeling.

"You could call it Seven Seas High." Moseby chuckled.

Wilfred nodded his head, "That's a fantastic idea. Originally I had just thought of Tipton High, but Seven Seas High… well that's ingenious."

Cody inserted a key into a door and walked into his house. Around him, the familiar smells and sights were a welcome change from the white and sterilized hospital. He had been volunteering at the hospital for a few years now. It was something to do, and is interest in the medical field had been further piqued. He wanted to be a doctor; he wanted to go to med school. His volunteering would look very good on college applications. Even though he still had the highest GPA his school had ever seen, better safe than sorry.

Cody liked school. He didn't have a lot of friends, only a few good ones, but he still squeezed a few laughs out of every day. Actually, he wasn't popular at all, the opposite. Sometimes he'd get pushed around or bullied. Only once had he actually been hurt, discounting being shoved into lockers, and the slashings of his pride. But still, he liked learning. His mind was like a sponge. He was at the top of his classes, and his teachers loved him. He wasn't, per se, a teacher's pet, but they liked him. They liked him a lot. He was a student straight out of a dream.

But now none of that seemed to matter. As had been one of his central moral values his entire life, what mattered right now was his family. Everything he had known as a child and as a teenager, for sixteen years, was being challenged. He had believed that it was he and his mother. Of course he knew he had a father. He knew his father left him, but he didn't know his father was married and he didn't know his father had another kid. He never knew he had a brother.

Well half-brother, really.

But Cody knew, and Cody believed that words like half or step or in-law didn't mean anything when it came to family. Family was family and there was simply no denying that. Everything was changing.

He looked at a picture on a shelf. Behind the black wooden frame and glossy, reflective glass, were two smiling people. It was his family. At least, what he knew to be his family. It was him, his mother, and his mother's boyfriend at the time. Cody had cut him out of the picture years ago. It wasn't much but it had always been Cody's favorite. Ever since he was a child the picture had been in his room. It was because he used to have nightmares and whenever he looked at the picture it calmed him down. The nightmares had gone. He had been peacefully dreaming ever since.

He sighed and sat up and began working on his homework. Today had been the longest day he'd ever had. It seemed like it was the end of everything he knew. But it wasn't over yet, now quite yet. There were still things to do. It was only the beginning of the end.