A/N: On August 7, 2010 Marine PFC Vincent Gammone III was killed in Afghanistan. He was shot while attempting to render aid to a fellow marine who had been wounded when they prisoner they had been escorting escaped. I might not have known Vincent all that well, but his death will effect my small community for some time. This is in honor of all those that have made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom.

A/N 2: This most definitely did not come out the way that I planned it to. There was so much more I wanted to do with it but it just never happened. I know not all of you are American or even support this war but this was just something that I felt that I needed to write. I graduated with Vincent and like I said above all though i didn't know him all that well, I came from a small school where it was impossible to not have at least a few memories with him in it.

His Sacrifice

So we laughed like the world wasn't at war

Said things to him we've never said before

And he teared up as he held up his glass

He said, "Boys if I don't make it back"

Laughter broke out around the table in the corner where four boys sat momentarily distracted from the reason that they were there. Wiping his eyes as the sound dissipated, one picked up his glass raising it in salute to the others.

"You guys are my best friends," he said, "and I don't know what I would have done without you. You've been there for me through thick and thin and I love you guys. You're the brothers that I never had," he paused, tears once more springing to his eyes as he choked back a sob. "I just wanted you guys to know that. Just in case . . . just in case I don't make it back."

Silent tears coursed down all four boys' faces as they contemplated their brother's fate. Finally one spoke. "Don't talk like that. You're a genius remember? You'll pull through without a scratch and before you know it you'll be back here with us and we'll look back on this night and laugh."

"Thanks Carlos, I needed to hear that, but all the same. Just in case, please don't cry for me. You know I can't stand it when one of you is upset. And guys, take care of Camille for me, you know how she gets."

They nodded and pulled him into an awkward four-way hug, never wanting to let him go.

Gasping, I sat up shaking off the last vestiges of sleep. It had been a long time since I had dreamed of that night and I wasn't quite sure why it had suddenly come back to me. One thing I did know however was the night was thick with a tension that I couldn't explain. I just had this feeling that something was going to happen and I couldn't shake it. It wasn't often that I got feelings like these but when I did, I was seldom wrong. Turning over I sighed, fruitlessly trying to fall back asleep, but my mind kept wandering back to my dream.

It had been nearly two years since that night and a lot had changed. Big Time Rush was no longer together, each of us having gone our separate ways. James had stayed in LA where he had a very successful solo career. Carlos and I had moved back to Minnesota where we took up professional hockey, but the biggest change of all was Logan. He had enlisted, becoming a field medic for the Marine Corps.

None of us had expected that and when he had told us of his decision, we were all floored. He had sat us all down and explained to us that this was something he felt that he had to do. He said that it was like a force calling to him and he no longer had the strength to resist it. The day Logan left for basic was one of the hardest days of my life. I was so used to being in control and now everything was changing. We all made promises to keep in touch but I knew that nothing would ever be the same. I still occasionally saw Logan when he was stateside but everything was different. He wasn't the same person I had known all of my life. He had grown up and became a man.

I was pulled from my thoughts by the ringing of the phone, and a feeling of dread grew within the pit of my stomach. Somehow, I just knew that this was a phone call that I really didn't want to answer, but my body seemed to be on autopilot as I found my hand reaching for the phone of its own accord. "Hello?" my voice sounded scratchy and it shook. I didn't know who was on the line but I was inexplicably nervous.

"Kendall." It was James and by the sound of his voice, I knew that there was something terribly wrong. He sounded like he had been crying. James never cried. "Kendall," he sobbed. Ok so he hadn't been crying, he was crying. My heart sank.

"What happened?" I asked my heart beating frantically from somewhere near the floor.

"It's Logan," he said trying to gain his composure. "I just got off the phone with his mom," he paused seemingly trying to gain the strength to continue. "He was killed in Afghanistan last night. She was going to call and tell you herself but I told her I would..."

James continued to ramble on but I had stopped listening. Dead? No. It was impossible. There was no way that Logan could be dead. I had to be dreaming. I must have fallen back asleep and this was just some kind of nightmare. Yeah that was it. I pinched myself, desperately trying to wake up, but it was no use. It was real. No, it couldn't be. God, I didn't want it to be real.

"Kendall? Kendall are you still there?" James' voice snapped me out of my denial bringing me harshly back into the present.

"Yeah I'm here, James." I said cringing at the way my voice now sounded hollow and empty.

"Listen, I have to go," he said. "I'll call you in the morning." I don't remember answering him, but I must have as the line went dead. Hanging up the phone, I pulled my knees to my chest and I cried myself to sleep.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the sun shining through my bedroom window making me groan and bury my face into my pillow. My mind was fuzzy and I wondered why my eyes stung like I had been crying. Then everything came flooding back to me. Logan was dead. My best friend was dead. I would never see him again. I would never see his smile, hear his laugh. I could never talk to him about my problems or listen to him as he rambled on about something random, because he was dead. My best friend was gone and he was never coming back.

It had been three long days since the phone call that had turned my world upside down. James had flown in from LA and for a while, it had been just like old times, but Logan's absence was like a gaping hole in our friendship. It just wasn't the same. We drove around for a few hours before we finally found ourselves in one of Logan's favorite restaurants. After a few awkward attempts at a stilted conversation, we sat silently, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

Suddenly, Carlos stood, "What are we all moping around here for?" he asked. "Logan didn't want us to cry for him, and I think he would be really disappointed if he could see us now. We've let his death change us and that's the last thing he would have wanted. Remember that night we all said goodbye? He told us he wanted us to have fun for him when he was gone. So why are we all still just sitting here? Let's go do something. Something in his memory."

I nodded and stood. Carlos was right. I picked up my glass and held it to the sky, "For Logan," I said slamming the contents back before I place it back on the table. "Come on let's go." Turning to go, I slung my arms around Carlos and James' shoulders and smiled for the first time in days. In the corner, a shadowy figure in fatigues smiled and faded from view.