Hey all faithful and/or first time readers. This is how it's going to work; I know some people reading this will be a little sensitive about…ahem "romance" scenes, and other more mature scenes. That's okay; it doesn't mean you can't enjoy the rest of this fanfic. Here's what I'll do; whenever there's a scene of the afore-mentioned persuasion, I'll put an A/N right before that kind of "activity" starts, warning everyone that it's one of those scenes. If you're not sensitive, feel free to keep on reading right through the scene. If you don't want to read it, skip right to the next chapter, and I'll put an A/N at the start of the chapter, updating you on any major events in the plot needed to understand everything that's happening, obviously leaving out the details of the scene you've skipped. Sound good?

Fly on,

NitnatRide

Chapter 1: Unexpected reappearance

Faythe's POV

Run, Faythe. Just run. Ignore your muscles, ignore your lungs, just run. You can rest later; just lose them first.

Groaning, I try to follow my own instructions and put the pain of my burning of my thighs, lungs and multiple bruises out of my mind. I can still hear Miguel and his cronies following close behind me, and I know I'll have to outrun them; no one on the street will stop to help when all six of them are holding baseball bats or crowbars, and I haven't passed many cops since I've been running from that club Miguel dragged me to. I'm still in one of the dodgy areas of LA, so this won't have the most concentrated number of cops – purely for professional safety – but by the time I get near the centre, where I'll have a better chance of running into a cop for help, these Jags chasing me will probably leave as they don't want to get caught. That is, if I can actually make it nearer the centre; they seem to be catching up, going by the sounds of their loud, arrogant, confident footfalls alone.

I made this plan a few days ago, when I first saw a news announcement of them on TV. In the picture of the four of them, I could easily pick him out. He was the second shortest out of all of them, with his trademark "I'm a cool kind-of geek" smile. It said Gustavo Rocque is his new producer, and I remember seeing a building called Rocque Records in the middle of LA when Miguel takes me out for his many "business trips". I immediately began to memorise the route we took from this club we were at just now to Rocque Records. I knew I was ready today, and I wanted to get away from him as fast as possible, so I just went for it when Miguel and his "colleagues" were otherwise engaged. With other women.

Paying no attention to Miguel's thickly-accented voice demanding that I stop – with a few obscenities added in for effect – I'm overjoyed to see that the house-quality is starting to improve; I'm nearer the centre, and I'm still ahead of the Jags!

Eventually the cars passing on the road start looking more expensive, and the sidewalks start to fill with more people, and I silently celebrate as I hear the thundering footsteps fade beneath the city sounds as the Jags hang back, cursing my name. But one man's cursing doesn't seem to be getting any further away; I decide to risk one glance over my shoulder, and swear to myself, frightened; if only one of the other Jags, and not Miguel, had continued to run after me, I might have had a chance if they caught up with me. If I'm grabbed by Miguel, I won't be able to beat him down or break his grip, and he won't have to drag me back to a boss to punish me. He'd just do it there and then.

I whimper to myself out of self-pity, but try to pour on speed as terror fuels my adrenaline. Making the sharp left I remember, I dash down this small alley – a shortcut to Rocque Records – throwing trashcans and any other objects I find into Miguel's path in an attempt to slow him down. All it seems to do is increase the severity of the punishment I'm going to get.

Finally, finally, the huge silver Rocque Records building looms in front of me, and I don't allow myself to slow down until I've burst through the double-doors; Miguel might have been able to catch me right outside the doors, but there's no way he'd follow me in here. Not with all the security in this place.

I've just read which studio he's rehearsing in on the information board when I hear a cry of anger from more than one person. I whirl around, stunned to meet Miguel's furious face inside the building, barging through many workers. I gasp in realisation as he continues his charge after me, and I bolt up the nearest staircase, the studio I'm looking for being on the third floor. I grab the banister as I shoot around the constant corners, my momentum carrying me around faster than I could turn by myself. No matter how fast I propel myself though, Miguel's ferocious sprinting always follows me soon after.

Barely stopping to read the directions on the third floor wall, I race to the right, spotting the correct studio at the far end of the wide corridor. His laugh, along with three others', leak under the door to my ears. Just before I burst through the doors, I feel a painful tug on my hair, hauling me backwards off my feet and into the air. As agonising pain shoots through my head, I let out a scream of pain, managing to call out one word before crashing to the floor.

"Logan!"

Logan's POV

The boys and I are just laughing at how amazing the new song we've just sung is when I hear a voice screaming for me, begging for me. I haven't heard this voice in two years, yet I can still recognise it. But I can't believe she's here. I silently list through all the reasons why and how she could be here, and I come to the conclusion that…she's run away from them. Then I look at reasons why she would sound so desperate, and again only come to one conclusion; she isn't safe yet.

All this takes me less than half a second, as the sound of someone landing heavily and painfully on the floor makes me throw my headphones off, not caring if Gustavo yells at me for breaking them, and sprint to the door. I throw it open with all my strength, and she's there…writhing on the floor and crying out in pain as a buff Mexican, with hair and eyes as black as his heart, tries to drag her back by her hair. I distantly hear my boys rushing out to join me at the sight, as red clouds my vision and I throw myself at Miguel, swinging my fist hard enough across his jaw that he falls back, releasing her onto the floor. Vaguely acknowledging Carlos kneeling by her sobbing, trembling side, I stride right past her, aiming a furious kick into Miguel's stomach.

I struggle as two pairs of hands restrain me, one from each side, as I never take my eyes off Miguel, attempting to burn a hole right through his head with my hate-filled glare.

"What," a powerful, obnoxious voice shouts over all the commotion, "is going on here?"

Gustavo and Kelly join us in the corridor, the former looking around for an answer to his question. Miguel picks himself off the floor, and I mentally make a note to thank Carlos later as he positions himself between Faythe and Miguel. Miguel jerks his chin to Faythe, and I resist the urge to pummel him again.

"Just trying to gain control of my responsibility, sir," the slime-ball lies. "She isn't mentally stable, and I wanted to stop her from trespassing on your property before she broke anything too valuable."

He's playing with Gustavo's protectiveness of his company and belongings to try to get him to think she was just trespassing on his property, and I exhale sharply in anger, trying to start forward again before James and Kendall tighten their grip again.

"She's not your anything," I spit, fury leaking through every one of my pores. "And you're not taking her anywhere, ever again!"

Quickly remembering his manipulation of Gustavo, I turn to my boss, and try to snap him out of his possible false thought processes. "Gustavo!" His eyes, under his stupidly and redundant sunglasses – we're inside, for crying out loud – flick to me and my pleading expression, trying to convey to him that this scum-bag is a big fat liar. There's a horrible silence as Gustavo makes his decision, turning back to Miguel and looking him up and down. He seems to find something to comment on in his appearance, and his voice takes on a fairly familiar victorious tone.

"Even an insane person surely doesn't need to be restrained with a baseball bat."

Miguel's eyes glance down to his right hand, like he's just remembered that it's there, and his nostrils flare in recognition of a defeat.

"Security," Gustavo calls, and Freight Train and another, equally-buff security guard step forward from the significant crowd we've managed to gather. Miguel takes a look at them both, assessing the risk, then resigns. He looks down at Faythe, who's still curled up in a ball in Carlos's arms.

"Buenas dias, mi amor," he sneers down at her. "I'll see you soon."

I stop myself from reminding him that he most certainly wouldn't be seeing her ever again, let alone soon; he should know that now that I've got her back.

James and Kendall don't let me go until Miguel is round the corner of the first flight of stairs, and as soon as they do, I rush down to Faythe's side. Carlos relents his hold on her.

"Shhh, hey. Hey, baby girl. Come here," I bring her into my own arms, sitting on the floor against the wall, and placing her across my lap. She doesn't move from the position of having her head against her knees, arms – covered in bruises, I might add – thrown over herself in defence.

"Come on, shhh, hush now. It's OK. It's OK, I've got you now. No one's going to hurt you. I won't let him hurt you anymore."

After a few minutes of my reassurances, she relaxes her position, cautiously peering up at me through her arms, her sobs only quietened slightly. It's only then that I see her fully, and it hurts in both a good way and a bad; she's still as beautiful as she was two years ago, but her light auburn locks seem dead, flatter than usual, and dirty. The pale skin that we've always shared is purple with bruises on her exposed arms, legs and face – basically every inch that we all can see; her short, tight-fitting pink T-shirt does nothing to cover her, and neither do the denim shorts at that ridiculously scarce length that I've only found in LA. And her eyes; the once magical green of the leaves of a young LA palm tree has dimmed, scared to reveal itself and its playfulness that I used to know.

Two years. Just two years, and he's done all this to her.

I try not to grimace down at her, and slide my arm behind her knees and back, picking her up bridal style. Attempting to ignore the curious stares from the others, I look to Gustavo, pleading him with my eyes. Thankfully, he's in a good mood; he gestures for us to follow him, and we go to his office, sitting down on the cloth chairs to the left of his desk.

"Can you get some ice for her bruises?" I ask Kelly. She nods, looking worriedly at Faythe before going to Gustavo's personal fridge-freezer combo. I gently lift Faythe's legs off mine and spin them, so she's sitting on her own seat, with me right next to her. The boys are sitting on the couch opposite our seat, and Gustavo is leaning against his desk. Kelly gives me the ice pack, and I smile at her gratefully before she goes to stand by Gustavo. I catalogue all Faythe's bruises, trying to figure out which one needs the ice more. I sigh, realising that they're all pretty bad. I choose the one on the apple of her cheek though, as she'd want that one sorted out first; girls always cared about their looks, and she's no exception.

She flinches as I press it just a little too hard. "Sorry," I whisper to her, thinking any louder would be uncomfortable in the thick silence that covers us all.

A few more minutes pass with me dabbing all around at her cheek, with her curled in on herself again, but she rasps out one word. "Faythe."

Kelly leans forward again. "What, sweetheart?"

Faythe clears her throat, obviously dissatisfied with how croaky her voice sounds. "My name is Faythe…" she looks to me for consent, and I nod my head at her, "…Mitchell."

"You're Logan's sister," Kendall states the obvious.

She nods. "Can I have some water, please?"

"Sure, baby girl," I tell her, starting to stand up to get it.

"No, dude; I'll get it. You stay with her," James says, surprising me.

"Thanks, man."

Faythe waits until James comes back from the fridge with a bottle of water. It doesn't escape my notice – or anyone else's for that matter – that she flinches back from his advance before she catches herself. No one says anything though, making their own silent assumptions for the reason to her actions. James unscrews the cap before handing the bottle to her gently.

"Thanks," she says quietly, taking it from him. James surprises me yet again when he smiles at her. Don't get me wrong; James is a great guy, but there's usually an ulterior motive as to why he's smiling at a girl. This smile – when he doesn't even know Faythe – is one of the warmest, gentlest and most welcoming smiles I've ever seen him give. It even manages to thaw Faythe a little, as she gives a tentative, shy one in return, before ducking behind both hands around the bottle. I see James's eyes soften – weird – before he moves back to his seat.

Once she has taken a few draughts, she puts the bottle on the floor and takes a deep breath.

"It started two years ago," she begins.

"Hush," I interrupt, stroking her cheek. "You don't have to talk about it now. It can wait."

"I want to though," she insists. "Besides, I interrupted your rehearsal, so I owe this to Mr Rocque, and I'm guessing you haven't told the guys, so we both owe it to them."

I sigh in defeat; I'd forgotten how smart she is. I hold my tongue, however, so I don't argue that we had in fact finished the rehearsal anyway.

So she continues, "Well, I guess I should say I'm Logan's twin. I'm only two minutes younger than him, and he still calls me 'baby girl'."

I have to chuckle at that – she's always complained about it – and the guys follow suit.

"Basically," she takes another deep breath, and I squeeze her hand in reassurance, "you guys may think Logan is never bad now, always thinking of doing the right thing, never stepping outside the line. That was the complete opposite over two years ago, same for me; we were always getting into trouble in Minnesota.

"Then we came across a gang who called themselves the Jaguars. I can't even remember how now – maybe we went onto their territory or something – but we pissed them off. Logan protected me that night, injuring a few of them before we got away. Since then, they'd been trying to get back at Logan somehow.

"Then, two years ago, they must have figured it out, probably remembering how he had protected me. But they kidnapped me, when I was doing Christmas shopping. I never saw them coming, and they knocked me out with some kind of chemical."

"I filed a 'Missing Persons", but the police never found anything," I tell the others.

"And so the guy out there was one of the Jaguars," Carlos guesses.

"The boss," Faythe confirms. "Miguel."

"And – Miguel – he did all…this…to you?" James tries to be subtle about his gesturing to her injuries.

"Well," she looks down, her voice suddenly agonisingly pained. "All of them did really. And…other…things…" she trails off.

James's confused expression matches how I'm feeling. Then Kelly gasps. And the pieces fall into place. The boys all have various expressions of horror, and red floods my vision as burning anger spreads through my system again.

"No," I hiss, sounding a lot like my old self. Faythe turns to me, tears in her eyes again. I grab both sides of her face, gently for the bruises. "Faythe, tell me they didn't."

"What did you expect, Logan?" she sobs again, and I feel horrible. "Why did you think I was dressed in a way that showed as much skin as possible? So that they could advertise how much they beat their little sex toy in one day?"

"You're not 'their' anything!" I cry, horrified. "And you're not just a sex toy! You're my sister!"

"To them I was barely a human being!" she wails at me. "If you're treated like something worthless and inferior, you soon start to believe that's what you are." She quietens her voice, both running out of steam and remembering our audience. "It's all in the psychology, Logan." She collapses against me again, attempting to control her quivering muscles.

I pull her tightly to me once more as I take in the others' reactions; Carlos looks ready to beat someone up (and I'd gladly join him), Kendall seems like he's about to cry, constantly staring at Faythe in sympathy and helplessness, and James has gone pretty pale, his wide eyes never moving from a faraway spot beneath the floor under my feet.

"You're staying," Kelly gasps, her own tears streaking down her cheeks. "At the Palm Woods, with the boys. There's no moral way I can let you back out on the street again."

"I've got no objection," Kendall agrees, and I smile at him in thanks. But he continues, "But Bitters said you have to be involved with the TV or music industry to stay at the Palm Woods."

My heart sinks as I remember the trouble Kendall's mom and sister went through to get an apartment. Another memory of Faythe springs to mind, and I start to smile as I gently shake her shoulders to get her to lean back and look at me.

"You still sing, baby girl?"

She shrugs, modestly. "I haven't practised in a while, but I can give it a shot. Why?"

I ignore her question. "Gustavo, think I could do a duet with her? Would that get Big Time Rush an even bigger audience?" And I accused Miguel of being manipulative towards Gustavo…

"Depends whether it's our usual type of music; something new will be risky but if the audience likes it, then we'd go global. But it'll take me a while to come up with something new as a duet, and we need to stick to the script Griffin gave us," my boss argues.

"Hey, it's OK, Gustavo. We've already got a song we can sing," I grin.

Five pairs of eyebrows are raised in surprise and curiosity. "You do?"

Turning back to my sister, I see the corners of her mouth turn up ever so slightly, her eyes finally sparking with a flame of life again. "As?" she asks. I nod, confirming her suspicions.

She starts to smile properly – halleluiah – but then stops, and despair mars her beautiful features again.

"Hey, come on. What's up, baby girl?"

"I don't have that confidence anymore," she murmurs, that heartbreaking tone returning. "It won't be as good. I mean, look at me; since when did I sit like this, two years ago?"

I must admit; seeing her curled in a tight ball with her arms wrapped securely around her knees seems way too scared and vulnerable for Faythe. The fact of her torture hits me again, and I curl my hands into fists on my knees, wishing Miguel was back here, tied up, so I could teach him what happens when you screw – literally – with my sister.

"Look," I tell her, trying to keep the anger, not even directed at her, out of my voice. "You were fantastic all the other times we sang this. You obviously had natural talent, and you can't get rid of that so I know you've still got it. Just try. Just at least try; it'll be great to hear you sing in person again, rather than just listening to the MP3 recordings we made back then."

I give her my best puppy eyes along with my best reassuring face. I'm not sure what the effect is, but it seems to work; I can see reluctant acceptance dawning on her face.

"Yeah," Carlos adds, trying to help. "And if you're half as good as Logan, it'll be awesome."

"You kiss-ass," I tease. "What are you after?"

The guys and Kelly laugh whilst Gustavo tries not to crack a smile. I turn back to Faythe.

"So what do you say, baby girl?" She still looks doubtful, so I decide to help her along a bit more. "After two years, you deserve to feel alive again. I remember how happy you looked when we were singing together; you deserve that feeling of power. Just give it a go. Please?"

She looks up at me through her lashes for a long while, just staring into my eyes, before moving her gaze to the boys and doing the same to them. They all give reassuring gestures. Neither James nor Faythe break their eye contact – seriously, what is going on with that? – before she answers me.

"You got the backing CD?"

James grins full on at her whilst the Carlos and Kendall make celebratory noises and slap each other's hands. I wink at her, elated.

"You bet I have."

"Let's go, then," Kendall smiles.

My boys all cheer, and I pick Faythe up by the waist, revelling in her delighted and surprised squeals as I spin her around in the air. The guys jump up, laughing at us both, then Carlos and Kendall race out the door. When I've put Faythe down and both of us have reached the door, James – OK, this is getting weird now – is standing there, holding the door.

"After you," he says kindly, speaking only to Faythe. Then, as I'm walking through the doorway with her, I try not to freeze and laugh out loud as it hits me. I can't believe I hadn't seen it sooner. Sure, my sister's drop-dead gorgeous, but so are many of the other girls at the Palm Woods, and they've never brought out this side of him. Maybe…just maybe…she means something different to him.

Smiling at this, I turn to him, preparing for the acid test of the theory. I smirk at him so Faythe doesn't see, teasing him. He makes a face back that says, "Oh, ha ha, now wipe that off your face before she sees." Hmmm…could have been a better response, but could have been worse too. It means he still has the confidence that he's going to win her over, but is worried about her seeing his feelings too soon. The fact that he wants to hide it definitely suggests she's not like the other girls, but he needs to be careful about the confidence; Faythe doesn't like arrogance, and she rarely did what I expected before, so he could end up crushed. He may crush her in the process too, considering the way she blushed and smiled when he held the door for her. They both need to be careful. But wow; one of my best buds and my sister. Who'd have thought?

Gustavo and Kelly bring up the rear, with James walking directly behind us. No doubt with some ulterior motive like staring at my sister. I try to hold in a laugh again; James has no worries about me knowing because he thinks he's actually going to get her. Faythe, on the other hand, used to freak if anyone found out she was crushing on someone. She'd get all embarrassed, even back then, and completely avoid them so neither he nor she would get a chance together. I'd hate to ruin either of their chances, especially considering how guys have treated her for the past two years.

Great; now I'm all angry again.

Shaking the horrifically graphic images out of my head, I smile as Kendall, Carlos and James give us both – but mostly Faythe – reassurances and "good luck"s again.

Faythe smiles to me – finally – excitedly. I grin back at her as I open the door to the recording room. When she enters, she stares around like a kid in a candy store; it had always been her dream before to be a professional singer, and now she's finally inside an actual recording studio. At Rocque Records, no less.

Whilst she spins around lovingly in the middle of the room, I turn to the screen the others are behind in the mixing studio, looking at Carlos. "Dude, can you look in my bag? Front zip pocket, there should be a CD with "As backings" written on the case."

Carlos turns away to the back of the mixing studio, disappearing from my sight before popping back up, waving a CD proudly. I nod to him, holding my thumbs up. Carlos hands the CD to Gustavo, who puts it in the mixing player. I call Faythe over, breaking her reluctantly from her reverie and leading her over to the mike. Pulling the headphones over her head, she speaks to me before I've got mine on.

"I feel so professional. It's really scary."

I laugh at her, pulling my own headphones on.

"You'll be great," I tell her through the mike so she can hear me through her headphones.

Through the glass, Gustavo presses the speaker button. "Okay, you two ready? It's all set up and clear to record. You can go whenever."

I raise my eyebrows in question at Faythe, and she takes a deep breath then nods. Smiling at her, I lace our fingers together and she squeezes my hand gratefully. I incline my head to Gustavo, and the backing music starts to play. (They sing 'As' by George Michael, by the way. Check it out; it's actually pretty good) I have to come in almost immediately. I sing my two verses, continuing into the chorus alone, singing about my eternal love for a girl. Faythe gets a smile on her face; probably because she's hearing me sing this song after so long. I wink at her, backing up a little bit to give her space to the mike. And then, she starts to sing…

James' POV

Whoa. Seriously, just whoa. Ever since I actually got a good look at her in Gustavo's office, I've been staring at her whenever I can. She is just…even with the bruises too! I don't know why, but I really just want to kill every single asshole who did all this to her. When she subtly suggested to us that she'd been raped – multiple times – I saw red. I really don't know why, but I was furious that anyone would want to do anything like that to this girl. I wanted to fling myself in front of her to protect her in any way I could.

I hope I didn't go too red in the face. Because it really won't have done wonders for my skin.

But yeah, now Logan knows. Great, just great; like that's going to end well. He's probably going to be all overprotective-big brother on me, saying how I'd better stay away from her because of all she's been through. I can kind of see his point, but surely some dating time with the face of Minnesota will help her out, rather than learn to hate all guys? I mean, she's already shown signs that she likes me, so the face is obviously doing its job perfectly. I bet I'll have her in no time.

And then, she starts to sing…Oh. My. God. I have competition; she is good. As soon as she opens her mouth, a mellow sound pours forth, sounding like she could put you to sleep with a lullaby. But this song needs some kind of rasp, some kind of confidence in the girl's part, and she delivers without fault. Oh, man, I'd love to do a duet with her. Then she can hear what a great voice I have, and then she won't be able to resist me.

This is going to be easy.

Oh, poor naïve James. Anyway, for the two people I promised would be in this; you guys will turn up in the next chapter, when Faythe first arrives at the Palm Woods :D Oh, and by the way; please, just pretend that none of the guys have girlfriends, as they may well do in the series. I've just finished season 1, so just pretend at least Stephanie and Jo and anyone else doesn't exist.

Fly on,

NitnatRide