In case anyone who stumbles across this doesn't know (and didn't pay attention to the summary), this is a sequel to my story Boy, Disrupted. If you haven't read that, you might want to do so because otherwise you're going to be really confused by this. Of course I can't make you do that, but I highly encourage it. :)

Also, just to let my anxious readers know, I have no idea how long this story is going to be but I suspect it'll be shorter than Boy, Disrupted. I'm thinking anywhere from 10 to 15 chapters. If it goes over that so be it, but for right now I'm going to say 15 chapters will probably be the maximum. Even though this is an individual story in its own right, it is predominantly a continuation—an add-on, if you will. I'm creating this because there was so much I wanted to put in Boy, Disrupted but didn't get to.

Something to remember: this takes place a full year after the end of Boy, Disrupted.

Enjoy. And please remember, reviews are welcome. ;)

Disclaimer: You all know the drill.

Zack Martin came home from his construction job that Friday with grimy hands, an aching back, sore feet, a sweaty body, and a good dose of fatigue. He yawned as he closed the door of his family's suite behind him, and nearly toppled over as he set down his duffle bag. He needed sleep, badly. But even more than that, he needed a shower.

While on his way to the bathroom, he saw that his and Cody's bedroom light was on and decided to see why that was. He should have already known the answer, but he wasn't thinking straight at the moment. He never thought straight when he was groggy.

Sitting up in bed, hunched over a giant textbook that was propped on his lap, was his brother Cody, who'd heard him come in and looked up to greet him. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Zack replied. "Where are Mom and Dad?" He couldn't help but notice that their parents weren't in the suite. Their mom didn't typically have a show until 11:30 on Friday nights and their dad wasn't supposed to get picked up by his band mates until Saturday morning, so he had no idea where they'd be.

"Out," Cody said.

"Out where?"

"I don't know. Just out."

"You didn't ask them where they were going?" That was hardly like Cody.

"I asked them but they didn't tell me."

Zack cocked his eyebrow suspiciously.

"Don't worry, they took their cell phones," Cody told him assuredly.

Zack thought about that for a moment. This was the first time his parents had been "out" by themselves in a long, long time—that is, since he and his brother were little. He smiled at the notion (Aww, he thought, they're doing something together) but then gave a simple shrug and let it go. He was too tired to contemplate about it much.

"How was work?"

Cody's question nearly caught him off guard. "Huh?" he asked. Then when his brain registered what Cody had said, he answered: "Oh, uh, stressful. How was school?"

"Same." Cody turned the page in his textbook. "Ugh, I have so much studying to do! It's insane."

"Why are you studying so much? It's Friday. You have all day tomorrow and all day Sunday to do it."

Cody snorted. "I wish. Tomorrow I've got to work on my research paper for psychology."

Zack grimaced. "Eesh, that sounds…peachy."

Cody had changed his major. He was still going into business, but he'd dropped his law pursuit. Lawyers were just glorified liars, he'd decided. And nothing would change that.

First-hand experience with them had caused him to make that assessment.

"Yeah," Cody said matter-of-factly. "I've barely started it and it's due Tuesday."

"Yikes."

Cody nodded and released a long, slow breath. "I swear to God, this socio-economics class is going to be the death of me."

Zack cringed slightly at the word "death" (it had become a reflex for him to do that), but didn't say anything in return.

Cody continued: "It's not really the material that's hard. It's my professor, Mr. Mallory. He has no idea what he's talking about. He goes on and on and on about irrelevant stuff until class is over and then expects us to know everything. The only way to get the information is through the book, which virtually makes the class pointless."

"Do you know what your grade is?" Zack asked.

"So far I've gotten A's on all the other exams…"

Zack waved his hand carelessly. "Oh, well then you should be fine!"

"Well yeah, but that's not the problem. The problem is, I paid over three hundred dollars for that class, plus another hundred or so for this book"—Cody lifted up the textbook and then dropped it back onto his legs—"and this book is the only thing that's helping me learn anything. I coulda skipped the entire class and still gotten an A. It's bogus."

"Why is that bogus? Sounds pretty sweet to me—skip every single class and still get an A at the end."

"That's beside the point," Cody declared. "It's the principle of the thing."

Zack rolled his eyes. My brother, always the goody-two-shoes nerd.

"I paid for the class, Zack," Cody added. "I paid three hundred dollars for it to teach me something…and it hasn't taught me one damn thing." He sighed. "In other words, I guess I kinda feel like I just paid for a four hundred dollar book."

Zack didn't know what to say to that. Cody had a valid point, but there was nothing he could do about it at this point. It was nearing the end of spring semester and finals were just around the corner—two weeks away to be exact. "Well, look at it this way," he offered. "At least it's almost over."

Cody nodded. "Yeah, that's a plus."

There was a pause.

"How long have you been studying?"

Cody glanced at his wristwatch. "About four hours."

"Nonstop?"

"Pretty much."

"You should take a rest."

"I got up to take a piss."

"That's not a rest; that's a bathroom break. There's a difference. Man, what you need is some quality TV time." Zack pointed his thumb back towards the dark living room. "Why don't you go watch something for a while?"

Cody shook his head. "Nah."

"Come on, Codes. There's more to life then studying."

Cody thought for a second. Then yawned. "Okay, I guess so." He closed his textbook and stretched.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," Zack said.

He started to head out the door, but then stopped himself and turned around. "Oh, and one more thing: can you make dinner tonight?" He smiled pleadingly. "I promise I'll do the dishes."

Cody's mouth turned up at the corner in a why-am-I-not-surprised look. "You say that every night."

Zack's smile widened. "Yeah, because it works."

Cody shook his head. He wiped his fingers across his eyes. Forget TV, what he really needed was a nap.

"Look at it this way," Zack added, "if you don't, it's either take-out or my cooking. And we don't really have the money for take-out."

Cody considered that and was instantly won over. "For the sake of our health and well-being, I better do the cooking."

Zack grinned and left the room.

…

After Zack had taken his shower and eaten dinner with Cody (who had made them a simple dinner of spaghetti and garlic bread), the two brothers sat at the table in quiet contemplation. Neither one of them wanted to move or break the tranquility, though both of them knew they'd eventually have to.

Cody was the first to speak: "So how's the school coming?"

The construction company that Zack worked for, Rowland Moors Inc., had a contract to add a new section to a local high school that would include six new classrooms, a new science lab, an extra pair of restrooms, and 87 new lockers aligning the walls. It wasn't the most exhausting job Zack had ever had, but problems like inclement weather, accidents, miscalculations, and shortness of staff sometimes rendered progress at a standstill.

Zack shrugged. "It's coming."

"You guys have been working on that for months."

"Two months," Zack said defensively, "which really isn't all that bad considering the bullshit we've had to put up with."

"What kind of bullshit?" Cody hadn't really been paying attention to his brother's job lately. With final exams on the way and assignments to do that were piled sky-high, he couldn't afford to.

"Oh, you name it," Zack replied. "Just about everything that could go wrong has gone wrong. We had to remove a wall and redo it because somebody was off on the measurements…that ended up costing an arm and a leg; we were delayed several days because of rain; two of our guys had to be rushed to the emergency room thanks to faulty equipment and incompetence—I swear, the new workers there ain't worth jack; we've had complaints, arguments…"

"What were the complaints about?"

"Various things. Some of the teachers have been complaining about the noise, as if we can actually help that. One of the school administrators said he didn't like the size of one of the classrooms, even though it was the size we'd agree upon. And this other guy—I think he was the janitor—told us he was pissed off that we weren't putting in a new supply closet. It's just been…endless."

"Damn!" Cody exclaimed. "Sorry about that, man. That sucks."

"You know what the sad thing is?" Zack said. "That school doesn't even need a new section. It got one just two years ago."

"Then why are they putting one in?"

Zack shrugged again. "I don't know," he said nonchalantly. "The government needs to spend our tax money on something. I guess spending it on schools makes them feel good about themselves."

Cody nodded in acknowledgement. He yawned.

"Hey, thanks for cooking dinner tonight buddy," Zack told him, suddenly feeling a little guilty.

"No problem," Cody returned with a minor smile. "But remember, you're doing the dishes."

"I know, I know."

There was a pause.

"You gonna get up?" Cody asked.

"Yeah, in a minute. God, I'm so tired."

"You and me both. But the sooner you get done, the faster you can get to bed. And just think, tomorrow you're off."

"Hallelujah."

Cody chuckled but his eyes were laced with worry as his brother forced himself up from the table with a groan and began to pick up their dirty plates. For a guy who was just twenty-two, Zack looked like an old man. He walked slowly, measuring each step, and his eyelids drooped as though he couldn't keep them up.

Cody felt so much sympathy for his brother. College was one thing, but the work Zack did was something else entirely. While college was strenuous on the brain, which in turn could affect the body, Cody made sure to take good care of himself to the best of his ability. Zack, on the other hand, could barely afford to do that. And what he put up with every day was strenuous on the body and the mind, simultaneously.

Once the plates and the silverware were in the sink and Zack was running the water, Cody stood up from the table, went over to the living room section of their suite, and plopped down on the couch.

Zack heard the various sounds from the TV as his brother surfed the channels. "Take years off your appearance with the all-new Tri-Ultra Miracle Cleanse," said a lady advertising the latest de-aging skin cream. Cody clicked the channel button. "Are you one of those people who just can't seem to find enough closet space?" asked a man advertising a closet organizer. Cody clicked again. "Last year, America alone disposed of enough plastic bottles to circle the entire globe," remarked an adamant man, who then went on to say: "Living in a world that is diminishing in natural resources, such waste should not be tolerated. That is why I present to you a ground-breaking means to stay green, without going out of your way…" Cody clicked. He'd seen that commercial a hundred times before; all it really was was a DVD hosted by a man who claimed he had all the answers for why people didn't recycle like they should and who offered simple, already-known ways to help the environment. Cody had once looked it up on the Internet out of curiosity and found that it was nothing ground-breaking at all. Just a money-making scheme.

Eventually Cody began going to specific channels by punching in their numbers on the remote. He stopped when he tried TNT. A Few Good Men was on. He used to love that movie. Jack Nicolson's acting was superb, and Tom Cruise wasn't bad either (though he'd never been the biggest Tom Cruise fan).

Cody started to watch it. Zack finished doing dishes and decided to go straight to bed. He stole a quick glance at the TV screen to see what was on, but then disappeared into their bathroom and started brushing his teeth.

Cody heard the short, hurried strokes of his toothbrush from out on the couch. Poor guy, he thought. He goes through so much.

Almost instantly, his mind was thrown back to the year previously—when everything had changed, when their brotherhood had been compromised, when he'd made a self discovery that had altered the very foundation on which he'd known himself, when he'd broken his brother's heart, twice, and betrayed his trust. When he'd reached the end of his rope and realized he had to begin again.

Accompanying those irrefutable thoughts was the here and now—that is, where it all had led to so far. His life was fairly normal; he was continuing his college education (albeit at a different college than he initially had chosen) and the rest of his family was carrying on with their lives. On the outside, most everything had gone back to the way it was before. But only on the outside.

The inside was a different matter. Underneath some of his smiles was a twinge of guilt—guilt at the whole prospect of smiling, because he often thought he didn't deserve to. And what was infinitely worse than that he could feel that some of Zack's smiles were not genuine either. Sometimes he feigned them. It was easy to tell when he did. There was no light in his eyes, and there was a tiny, yet noticeable, quiver of his lips as they pulled upward, which made him look as though he was struggling not to cry.

Cody couldn't deny that he was worried about Zack. Sometimes he acted like two separate people—two independent identities living within one body. He'd be his usual self one minute and then a complete stranger the next. All at the drop of a hat. At the presence of a single thought or feeling.

Cody had cornered him about it once, when Zack had become particularly crabby one evening after acting happy throughout the rest day. "What's your problem?" he'd asked. "Why do you have these mood swings all the sudden? You never used to be like this." In the past, Zack would only get angry when something or someone had pissed him off. And usually Cody was the first to know the details. But that was not the case now; this was something totally new. "What is this?" Cody had implored. "A phase?"

Zack hadn't given him a proper answer. He'd simply shot back a moody retort: "I just feel like being pissed right now, okay? Jesus, I was fucking dandy earlier. Can't I have a moment to be pissed? Don't I still have the right to get pissed every now and then? God, Cody, what the hell do you want from me?"

Cody had apologized and let it go, but that didn't stop him from being concerned. What was up with Zack? If it had only happened once, he would have passed it off as a one-time thing. But it had happened several times, under various circumstances.

And what really frightened Cody—what he sensed with every bone in his body—was that it was directly connected to what he now called "That Day." As in, the day he'd picked up Zack's .45-caliber and tried to off himself. He knew Zack wouldn't tell him what the deal was so he constantly refrained from asking, but still…the idea that it was his fault haunted him.

Cody was a little over half-way through the movie before he realized he'd lost interest in it. When he brought his attention back to it, he saw that it was at a scene he'd forgotten about since the last time he'd watched it: Tom Cruise and Demi Moore were sitting across from each other at a restaurant, eating sea food and disagreeing on whether or not they were going to win their court case. Afterwards it cut to the military courtroom, where a marine by the name of Owen Barnes (or something of the like) was giving his testimony. Cody immediately thought about his own court case and again changed the channel. He now went to FX, which was playing a horror movie he'd never even heard of before.

He hoped it would get him distracted, but unfortunately it did just the opposite. Within moments, he'd totally drowned out the visuals and sounds of the TV and reverted back to his thoughts on his on-going lawsuit. It had officially started two months after he'd been released from Fairoaks and it was even worse than he'd imagined it would be. What started as a lawsuit that was intended to take a few months to settle had turned into a full-blown trial that would last for well over a year.

Those damn lawyers just can't leave well enough alone, can they?

Of course not. Money talks to them. The longer the case, the more doe-ray-me they get to salvage.

Dirty-ass crooks.

He'd been the first to take the stand. He'd given the judge a detailed rendition of what had happened on the day he was sedated, mentioning both his talk with Dr. Maps beforehand and his experience at the hospital. He didn't tell everything. Some things he left out—like the light he saw while lying on the hospital bed with the tubes in him, and the feeling of flying, and the fear of falling down into the dark abyss below, where he knew the cat was waiting for him. Needless to say, he didn't talk about any of that. Only the things that made sense in the world of logic—the world where lights had an explanation and strange feelings were the result of chemical secretions in the brain. He relived only the things that other people could verify.

Following his testimony was Jenny's, who told the judge everything as well. Her story and his matched each other perfectly.

After her was Dr. Maps, who was questioned about all his encounters with Cody. Both medical-related and not. He told about presiding over Cody's heart surgery, pointing out that Cody had initially flat-lined and was pronounced dead; he told about how he'd drained the Thorazine from Cody's body the second time he was rushed to the hospital, and then later met with his parents and explained the situation. He also told about his practice in general—how long he'd been a doctor, his educational background, the types of patients he typically received, etc. His testimony ended up being the longest.

Zack took the stand next and had to tell the judge about his arrest after trying to raise hell on the workers at Fairoaks. He promised that he hadn't been thinking straight at the time due to what had happened to Cody, and that he'd never planned to kill anybody (which were both true).

He was asked about Cody' attempted suicide, which was the last thing he gave testimony to. He made sure to mention at the end that Cody had reformed himself and was doing better.

The final person to take the stand was the male nurse from Fairoaks. His name, come to find out, was Ted Benson.

He had a lawyer; one by the name of Samuel Warren had been appointed to him by the court.

Cody had one too, and her name was Erin Kyle.

Cody didn't want one. The only reason he accepted one was because he was warned, time and time again, that not having a lawyer in a situation like this was unwise. He needed one because the situation was blowing out of proportion. Fairoaks was determined to make themselves look good to the public. They were liable to get sued so the best thing for them to do was fire Ted (which they did), point fingers at him, and try to make themselves look like victims by siding with Cody and urging him to "receive his deserved payment."

Plus, the lawsuit with Dr. Thompson—which had ended months beforehand—had put their name in the papers numerous times and had given them a bad reputation with the outside world. This was their chance to redeem themselves. If they formed any kind of an alliance with Cody, they could regain some measure of favor.

But in order for that to happen, Ted Benson had to fall.

It was all nonsense. Cody wasn't the least bit interested in punishing Ted Benson. Granted, he didn't have any warm feelings towards the guy. Quite the contrary. But if it hadn't been for his misdoing, he would not have gotten out of Fairoaks in the first place.

The charge was disorderly conduct and negligence. The prosecution had originally pushed for attempted murder, but that didn't fall through since Ted Benson clearly did not attempt to murder Cody. They also tried for voluntary manslaughter but that didn't work either because Cody wasn't dead. "Disorderly conduct," declared Judge Turpin, "includes any action that disturbs the peace, deviates from progress, or causes some form of harm to someone else. I believe that and negligence cover this case in full."

Cody was pleased. The whole thing was bad enough.

Ted Benson's lawyer, Warren, had heavily stressed Ted's nicotine addiction, claiming that he too had once "been a slave to the compulsive habit of smoking." It renders your reasoning skills useless, he argued, and transforms you from a level-headed, rational person into an irresponsible fool.

And as if that weren't adequate, he added (seeing that he wasn't convincing anyone), his smoking habit was amplified ten-fold due to his recent divorce and custody battle over his three-year-old daughter. Evidence was sought on that assertion and it was proven to be true. A divorce had been finalized as of six months previously between Ted Benson and his former wife Anya in which they had engaged in a "vicious" long-term dispute over who was to keep their daughter Misty.

Primary custody had been granted to Anya and Ted got the house.

"After she left," Ted said of Anya, "and took Misty with her, I felt like the world had ended. I didn't know what to do with myself. I tried burying myself in my work but that just made me feel worse, so I started smoking excessively."

That was no excuse, intone Kyle, for what he did to Cody.

Ted Benson had already acknowledged that. He'd pleaded guilty at the very beginning of the trial.

"Mr. Benson, have you ever tried to quit smoking?" Kyle asked accusingly, her hands behind her back, her shoulders straight and stiff like a Nazi.

What does that have to do with anything? Cody had wondered.

Ted Benson nodded. "Yes, but it didn't go as planned."

"Mind explaining that further?"

"Well, I—I went on Chantix for a while, but it made me sick so I tried replacing cigarettes with gum. When that didn't work either, I went to a special doctor that a friend recommended me to—a hypnotist, that is—and I had him help me. I managed to stop smoking for a while, but then Anya and I filed for a divorce and I couldn't take the stress, so I started up again. And as the divorce went on, it got worse."

"Now at the time of the incident you and your wife were already officially divorced, were you not?"

"Yes, we were. But my habit didn't decrease. It was out of control by then."

"Just how much were you smoking, Mr. Benson?"

"At the time of the incident? About a pack a day."

"That's quite a bit, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes."

"Do you still smoke that much?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

A pause. Cody saw a hint of a smile on Kyle's face. "Mr. Benson, you have a three-year-old daughter," she said. "Do you acknowledge her need to be raised in a healthy environment?"

"Of course."

"Does she ever spend time at your house?"

"Yeah, every other weekend."

"Wouldn't you say that's rather dangerous, given your habit? Being in the vicinity of a father who smokes a pack of cigarettes every twenty-four hours is hardly healthy…especially for a three-year-old."

"Objection!" Warren hollered, rising from his desk. He looked toward the judge. "Your Honor, that was a leading question."

"I'll rephrase that, Your Honor," Kyle amended, clearly wanting to cover her own ass. She repeated the question differently: "Mr. Benson, would you or would you not consider it imprudent to have a three-year-old child in the close proximity of an adult who smokes a pack of cigarettes per day?"

She's hitting him where he lives. Bitch. For God's sake, condemn him for almost killing me but leave his child out of it. She has nothing—NOTHING—to do with this.

Mr. Benson said nothing.

"Mr. Benson, please answer the attorney's question," ordered Judge Turpin.

"Yes…perhaps," Ted Benson replied, his voice indicating sadness.

"So you admit you're an irresponsible father." Wham. Just like that. Right in the heart.

"Your Honor!" Warren complained, rising from his seat a second time.

"I withdraw that statement, with apologies," Kyle said. But it didn't matter. The damage had already been done…just as she had intended. "Let me ask you this, Mr. Benson," she went on. "If a man is irresponsible at home, for whatever reason, is it not possible that he could demonstrate that same irresponsibility in the workplace?"

"Listen!" Ted exclaimed, desperately trying to reach for a severed thread. "I love Misty. I'd never do anything to hurt her. This is ridiculous! This has nothing to do—"

"Just answer yes or no, Mr. Benson," Kyle urged, her eyes gazing into his with a piercing ferocity.

Ted was helpless. He glanced at the judge, who responded by giving him a serious look, and then sighed. He knew now where Kyle was going with this; she'd backed him into a corner. A small corner, but a solid corner nonetheless. "Yes," he muttered. "I suppose so."

Kyle slightly turned her delicate head and cupped her hand behind her ear. "What was that?"

"I said yes!"

Kyle beamed in satisfaction and then turned to face the judge. Mr. Benson had admitted to being an irresponsible man, she remarked. And his irresponsibility was a burden to those around him. As was supported by his sedating Cody without good reason.

Typical lawyer move, thought Cody. You give them an inch and they stretch it.

After Kyle sat back down, Warren got up and began questioning him. Asking him about Cody's fight with Mr. Willner right before the sedation. "Mr. Benson, you claimed you sedated Cody because you saw him fighting with your client, Jeff Willner. Is that correct?"

"Yes, that is correct," Ted answered. "But I did not see the whole fight. Just the end."

"I see. And can you describe the end of the fight as you saw it?"

"Mr. Willner was on his knees. Cody Martin had him by the collar of his shirt—squeezing the life out of him. Mr. Willner managed to pry his hands away and stand up. When he turned to face Cody, Cody kicked him in the shin. Hard."

Warren nodded.

Cody felt the urge to defend himself. He bit his lip to keep himself quiet.

"Did you ever find out what caused the fight?" Warren persisted.

"Not until after the sedation," Ted Benson clarified. "My client, Mr. Willner, sexually assaulted Jenny Kroft. Cody was trying to help her."

On and on it went. For hours.

The last one to question Ted Benson had been Kyle, who'd practically called him (in her clever, subtle way) a deranged maniac…for being negligent.

Granted, negligence called for reprimand. But a deranged maniac? Fuck no!

On the living room couch, Cody felt his blood boil. Ted Benson had his downfalls, but Erin Kyle was far worse. Perhaps it was the fact that Ted had gotten him out of Fairoaks, but to Cody he didn't seem like that bad of a person. He'd pleaded guilty. The best he could hope for at this point was a shitload of community service, which was unlikely due to the charges against him.

He was going down. The question was how badly.

As far as Kyle was concerned, he could have been Ted Bundy reincarnate (it was a total coincidence that their names sounded similar). Cody couldn't stand her. He knew hate was a strong word, but he felt justified in using it to describe his feelings about her. She was a liar. A twister of words.

Just like Dr. Thompson had been…before he'd gotten his comeuppance.

Cody met with Kyle once every two weeks: every other Thursday, to discuss the case. She never fully explained her plans (she was sneaky that way), but she always assured him that "there would be hell to pay for Benson."

It was actually funny that she said that because she was the only one getting paid in all of this.

Cody had been tempted to ask her, So what does that make you? The Devil? Though he'd refrained.

He brought himself out of his thoughts. The TV was still going. The horror movie was nearing its end; a blonde girl with big breasts and thin legs was crouched in the corner of a warehouse, her hands covering her mouth as she prayed that the serial killer lurking around wouldn't find her.

Cody grabbed the remote and turned it off. He needed to go to bed. He was exhausted.

Zack was already asleep when he entered the bedroom.