Author's Note: This is just a shot one-shot/long-ish drabble. There's no shipping, just Carlos and his family. It's not exactly amazing, but it was a fun, quick thing to write. So please review and tell me what you think.

Warnings: Slightly angsty (barely anything).

Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush.

Carlos stood in his dark, silent room. The radiant light of the day was slowly ebbing away as the sun continued it's decent behind the horizon. The dull haze of night began to take over, bringing with it a huge moon and a unique assortment of stars scattered across the large expanse of sky. People were entering their homes, tired from a long day of work or play; however, Carlos and his mom have both been home for a couple hours. Mrs. Garcia was in the kitchen cooking up dinner for her family and eagerly waiting for her husband's arrival from his work at the police station. Even now through the thick, wooden door of his room, Carlos could hear the slow, out of tune singing of his mother. The teenager smiled to himself and shook his head minutely. His mother was definitely something else. But he loved her all the same. Truth was, his mother was one of his best friends, as lame as that might sound. The Latino couldn't help it; his mom was awesome. He even had all the friends that repeatedly told him so. Of course, his father wasn't exactly an anal paternal figure either, but still…Carlos just never really had that same connection with his father as he did with his mother. It didn't really matter though. He loved his father all the same and he knew his father felt the same way.

"Carlos! Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes!"

The Latino shook his thought out of his head at the call from his mom. He sighed deeply and trudged out of his room. He made his way through the living room and the dining room. He stood at the entrance to kitchen and for a second watched his mother's back as the woman moved around the kitchen stirring and tasting while still singing a Spanish rock song that was popular in 2006.

"So what's for dinner?" Carlos spoke up and his mom jumped a foot in the air before landing back on her feet and turning around to give him an evil glare.

"You almost gave me a heart attack! What if I had a knife in my hand? I could have used it thinking it was a robber!"

Carlos merely laughed at the thought. He was sure that if that his mom did have a knife at hand she wouldn't have hesitated to start swinging it around. Like he thought earlier…his mom was something else.

"Sorry."

"It's okay, mi hijo. We're having spaghetti and meatballs and some salad."

Carlos smiled softly at his mom and nodded thankfully.

"Sounds good."

"I know it's your favorite. We just have to wait about twenty minutes. What do you want to do to kill time? Watch TV or play a game of dominos?" Mrs. Garcia asked as she gave her son an excited smile. Carlos smiled half-heartedly and looked away shyly.

"Actually, mom, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Carlos' mom' smile didn't go away, but rather it shrunk slightly. She nodded her head and put her hand on her son's shoulder reassuringly.

"That's fine, Carlitos. Let's go to the living room."

Carlos nodded and they both walked off. They took a seat on the large sofa, Carlos looking down at his lap nervously as his mother patiently waited for him to begin speaking. His heart was speeding up. His throat felt like it was blocked by some foreign object. He was sure his face was flushed, even to the point where it was painfully obvious through his darker complexion. The small teen's hands began to shake on his lap. He stared down at his trembling fingers as his breath pattern deepened. It was gradually becoming more and more tedious to fulfill his greedy need for air, and Carlos was afraid he was going to have an asthma attack after three years of his inhaler collecting dust on his bedside table.

"'Litos calmate. What's wrong, baby?"

A lone tear fell from Carlos face and dropped down on his hand. He clenched his teeth and clenched his fists to keep from sobbing. His shoulders were now trembling as a series of spontaneous quakes and shivers travelled through his body.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone," Carlos cried, still looking down at his lap.

His mother covered her mouth and nose as her own eyes began to water. It hurt every mother to see her child cry and Mrs. Garcia hadn't seen her son cry since he was nine. She nodded her head slowly.

"Please, mami. Nadien. Not even papi."

"Carlos, I promise, just please tell me what's wrong."

The Latino's chest heaved slowly as he struggled to fill his lungs. His fist relaxed and he raised his hand to wipe the tears on his face. He sniffled and looked at his mom, his chocolate brown eyes fighting to stay in contact with his mother's identical worried ones.

"I'm not sure how you'll react, but I th-think you'll be okay with it. I'm pretty sure you won't be mad at me," Carlos' voice was quiet, but strong.

"Please, just tell me what you need to say. You're scaring me," Carlos mother smiled as she reached a hand over on Carlos' lap right over his own. The fun-loving Hispanic laughed quietly to himself before taking a deep breath.

"Mami…I'm gay…"

"Oh my god, Carlitos!" Mrs. Garcia exclaimed as she grabbed her son by the shoulders and brought him to her chest. Carlos let out a small, surprised squeak as his body collided with his mother's. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by his mother's rambling.

"Dios mio, Carlos! No me haga eso otra vez! I thought something was wrong! I haven't seen you cry since you were in elementary school! Muchacho, por poquito me matas!"

Carlos giggled as his mother let him go. He beamed at her.

"So you're not mad or anything?"

"Of course not! You know I wouldn't be mad over something like this! This is great news!"

Carlos raised an eyebrow at that. He understood how something like this wouldn't be a big deal to his mom, but he didn't exactly understand why it was "great news".

"And why is that, mami?"

"No when we watch television and a guy comes on, we can decide if he's cute or not!" Mrs. Garcia declared, probably over excitedly. Carlos groaned embarrassedly. He can't believe his mom just said that. Then again…

"Quick! What do you think about Channing Tatum?"

"Yes, mami, he's hot," Carlos answered, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. His mom squealed loudly as she jumped up and down excitedly. Carlos rolled his eyes. Only his mother. Suddenly, the sound of a key jostling in the door travelled through the house.

"That's your father. Let me get the table ready," Carlos' mother said as she made a move to stand up. Carlos' hand shot out and grabbed his mother's arm.

"Wait, mami, remember what you promised!"

"Carlitos, this is your father. He should know too."

Carlos shook his head quickly and frowned.

"No, you promised. I can't tell him. Not yet, at least."

"Pero, Carlitos-"

"Please don't tell him. I have to tell him myself."

"When will you tell him?"

"When I'm ready. Please…don't tell him," Carlos begged quietly as his father's footsteps approached the living room. His mother sighed quietly and nodded her head. Carlos breathed out a puff of air and let his mother's arm go just as Mr. Garcia, clad in his police uniform, walked into the room.

"La familia!"

"Welcome home, baby," Mrs. Garcia said as she walked over to her husband and gave him a small peck on the cheek before walking away to the kitchen.

"Hola, papi," Carlos smiled as he got up from the couch and gave his father a quick hug. Mr. Garcia smiled brightly at his son and ruffled his hair affectionately. Carlos gasped and shot his dad a half-hearted glare. His father chuckled to himself.

"So what did your mother cook today?"

"Spaghetti and meatballs," Carlos answered as he began to walk towards the dining room, his father keeping pace right next to him. The man groaned overdramatically.

"She always makes your favorites, but she never makes mine!"

Carlos laughed and nudged his father.

"That's because your favorite is Chinese food. She doesn't know how to make that."

Officer Garcia pushed his son as they reached the dining room.

"We have the restaurant number posted on the fridge. It's not that hard to dial a number and order."

"Don't you eat enough junk food at work? I think those donuts are starting to add up," Carlos teased as he patted his father's belly for emphasis. The man laughed and pulled his son into a headlock.

Mrs. Garcia stood at the entrance to the dining room from the kitchen smiling at her family. The two were laughing as they began a playful match of wrestling. She leaned her weight against the wall and crossed her arms. Her face was pensive for a second before the corners of her mouth slightly rose. They'll be alright. She was sure of it.

Bleh…there it is. Hopefully not too bad. Please tell me what you think in a review. Oh, and if anyone ever wants to just talk or wants to know about my writing, you can follow me on Twitter I'm Gohanrules1. Well, end of the story so…please review!

-Gohanrules out!