Hey everyone! This is my first BTR fanfic. This story will have a slight crossover with CSI: Miami and the story does contain SLASH. If you don't approve of male/male relationships please don't read. I believe I covered everything anyway, enjoy the fic. This is Clock Out.

DISCLAIMER:I do NOT in any way shape or form own the charaters in the story. I just own the idea.

SUMMARY: When someone from Logan's past comes back to kill him, Carlos, James, Kendall, Logan's half brother Ryan and his good friend Eric will do everything in their power to help him.

CLOCK OUT

Carlos's POV

Tick tock.

The clock on the wall struck eleven thirty and Logan still didn't call me. This isn't like him so I began to freak out just a little. You see Logan and I have been friends since the beginning of elementary school, but we became official just a few months ago. We have a daily routine. We walk home together from hockey practice, allow each other a couple hours to themselves to unwind and around ten thirty talk on the phone until one of us falls asleep on the other.

Tick tock. Eleven thirty-five.

Now he is precisely an hour and five minutes late on our evening phone call and I can't help but feel that something is terribly wrong. So the idea to call him popped in my head. Just as I reached to pick up the phone, it rang.

Tick tock. Eleven thirty-nine.

It's about time.

"Hello." I answer slightly agitated

"…" There was no answer on the other side.

"Logan you better say some…"

"C-Carlos…it hurts s-so bad." He hissed out.

That horrible feeling that I had earlier started to grow stronger.

"Logie, babe what's wrong?" I ask trying to remain as calm as possible.

"I-I'm not g-gonna make i-it. She's gonna k-kill me." His was thick with fear and tears. "H-help me Car…" The line goes dead.

Tick tock. Eleven forty-five.

I drop the phone and race to my father's room. He was lying on his bed watching reruns of Hawaii Five-0.

"Papi! Call911Loganisintrouble." I screamed.

He looked over at me with confusion written on his face.

"Que?" He questioned.

"Papi Logan is hurt!" I yelled once more. "You have to call 911 while I run down the street to check up on him."

He still looked at me with that confused face.

Tick tock. Eleven fifty.

Finally he reaches for the phone and I throw on a sweat jacket, a pair of sweat pants and sneakers and rushed out the door.

Tick tock. Eleven fifty-five.

I made it to Logan's house in record time. I tried to calm myself as I neared the front door. The door had been broken open so I carefully made my way inside. What I saw scared the hell out of me. The living room was torn to pieces. Glass littered the floor and the furniture was tossed haphazardly about the space. Multiple tiny circular puncture marks and red splatter branded the wall. Tears filled my eyes at what I saw next. Four bodies. A bloody mutilated mess. I felt the need to vomit but I was able to keep it down. I was relieved when I noticed none of them were Logan. Among the debris I spotted a blood trail leading upstairs. I followed it until it stopped right in front of the bathroom. I opened the door with caution and flicked the light switch.

"Ohmidio." I whispered dropping to my knees, crawling closer to Logan's prone form. He looked awful. Blood matted his hair to one side of his head. A variety of cuts and bruises layered his body and his left wrist appeared to be broken. I reached out to touch him, being careful not to disturb his injuries.

"Logan." I gently whispered.

He didn't respond.

"Logan." I tried again, this time a little bit louder.

Again I got the same answer. Nothing.

"LOGAN!" I shouted. "Wake up please." Tears began to flow down my cheeks and I could hear the faint sound of sirens.

"Despertarse mi amor, por favor."(1) I begged reverting back to my native language.

The sounds of the sirens were louder, signaling that they were getting closer. I gave myself a moment to calm down. I wiped the tears from my eyes and warily gather Logan's limp form into my arms. I slowly made my way back down stairs and was greeted by police and the paramedics, who quickly took Logan away from me. They placed him on a gurney, saying complex medical things that I didn't quite understand. All I knew was that he had a faint pulse and they had to get him to the hospital a.s.a.p. I watched as he was loaded into the ambulance and prayed that he would be fine.

Tick tock. Twelve fifteen. Logan Mitchell's time is about to run out.

TBC

Did you love it? hate it? should I continue or stop? Reviews encourage me! :P

Translation

1. Wake up my love, please.