Just feeling a little low tonight, guys…so naturally I take my feelings out on poor Logie bear. Ha. Well, I hope you like this little thing I wrote down.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Big Time Rush or any of its characters.

WARNING: May be triggering

He was tired. So tired of being such a damned bother to everyone. He was trying his absolute hardest to be a member of this group. He was trying to be a pop star, a genius, a doctor-in-training, a good student, a good boyfriend, a good friend, a good son…he was trying so much that eventually things were slipping and he couldn't catch them.

It was so hard, trying to be this perfect person all the time. His friends were always coming to him with their problems—from little things like clothes or hairstyles, to things like girls and school, and to even bigger things—like their concerns for their future. Logan would always make them feel better and tell them that everything would be okay. That the future would be wonderful. But they never told him that. And truth be told, he was scared as hell of the future.

Could he be this person that fans thought he was? This charming, slightly nerdy but still really cute pop star? Logan felt so much pressure to measure up to even the biggest fan's inflated image of himself. He didn't want to let anyone down.

Things had gotten so difficult that, even though he did his best to hide his dark thoughts, sometimes his friends were catching glimpses of what Logan was really feeling. He'd snap at them, or he'd be unnaturally quiet. Uninterested in things he usually loved. Unable to put much heart into anything. They'd ask if he was okay, and he'd put on a smile and say yeah, he just wasn't feeling that great or that he hadn't had much sleep the night before, and then they'd accept that and change the subject. And he'd go back to the hell inside of his head.

No one understood him, he realized. I don't understand myself. Logan stared around him with wide eyes, feeling as though he had no idea where he was. His familiar surroundings were so foreign to him. Did he even really exist? I don't feel anything, he whimpered in his head. I don't feel anything except…except sad.

Logan tried to concentrate on the sound of Kendall breathing deeply in the bed on the opposite wall. The room was dark, and Kendall was only a lump under the covers. He's always happy, Logan noted. So are James and Carlos. Why can't I be happy like them? I used to be happy. I wish I remembered how.

They were happy. So happy, that Logan knew he had to keep his pain to himself. He felt so much sadness and pain, that he couldn't share it with anyone else, or he'd give it to them. He never wanted anyone to feel the way he did. If he told his friends how he felt, it would hurt them. They would tell him to "feel better" or "cheer up" and he just couldn't. And when he couldn't, they'd feel worse, or feel like it was their fault.

That would be the worst. He couldn't let them feel any guilt for what he felt. It wasn't their fault at all. It was his. His, his, his. He deserved this pain, somehow. And he'd take it in silence, because his friends didn't deserve it. They would leave him if he burdened them with this undeserved torture.

He felt a tear slip from his eye. He didn't stop it, only observed it with mild surprise. He hadn't realized he was crying. It wasn't a shock. That's all he felt like he did anymore. Because he wasn't anything. He was supposed to be everything—friend, son, boyfriend, genius, pop star—and he was nothing. It was all or nothing and he was nothing.

Trying to block out bad thoughts didn't work. His mind was nothing but bad thoughts anymore. He tried to find something less painful than the rest to concentrate on. Camille automatically came to his mind. She'd been what he'd concentrated on at his worst moments. But now…all he could remember was what happened earlier that evening.

"Why, Camille?" Logan could only just say, feeling like all breath had been knocked out of his body and like he was drowning.

Camille looked so sad. So sad for someone who was breaking Logan's heart. "Logan, I just…it doesn't feel the same anymore. I feel like you're not the same person. I don't know what it is."

"Camille, I swear, I just…I…" Logan couldn't find a defense for himself. He didn't feel like he was the same person either. But something hadn't changed. "Camille, I love you," he told her, his voice barely a whisper. He reached for her hand.

She bit her lip and folded her arms across her stomach. Logan stopped and slowly drew his hand back. "Logan, I love you too," she told him. "I…I did. I think I still do. But…I think that maybe the problem is that…I think we should just take a break. I'm not saying we should…see other people or anything."

"Camille, either you're breaking up with me or you're not," Logan said, slightly louder, fighting to keep tremors out of his voice. "I can't be led on with the possibility of having you back."

Her expression was one of an extreme struggle. "Then…then I'm sorry, Logan," she whispered. "I do love you."

Logan just stared at her, disbelief echoing through every part of his being. "You're lying to me," he murmured. He turned and walked away from the love of his life, so she wouldn't see the tears spill over in his eyes.

The pain was unbelievable. It couldn't stop. It bubbled up inside of him and threatened to smother him. Logan felt himself physically straining to hold the pain in, to not let it escape and cause him to wail and yell and wake his friends and then they'd know.

But it was too hard. The pain was bubbling over. He scrambled off of his bed, where he'd been sitting cross-legged and raced into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, barely taking the time to flip on the light before he sank to the cold linoleum floor. He felt sobs wrack his body, felt tears slide down his cheeks unchecked, heard the occasional quiet sob escape his lips. He couldn't take it. The pain was too much. He had to do something to stop the mental abuse.

Pushing himself up frantically from the floor, he pulled open the drawer on the vanity. In the back, he'd hidden his secret weapon. They were in a box, wrapped in tissue paper. He'd hoped no one would see them, and so far no one had. Now he pulled them out, almost in a panic.

As he shook them out of the tissue paper, the glint of metal caught the fluorescent light. The last razor blade fell into his hand. He'd cut up one of his face razors into pieces. He'd have to buy some new ones soon.

It didn't matter right now. All that mattered was that release was so close. He pulled up the sleeve of the thermal tee shirt he had taken to wearing to bed. All up and down his left lower arm had tiny scars, some new, some old. Since he'd been doing this, he'd had to wear long sleeves and jackets, even on the hottest of days. He was dreading the day they ended up having a photo shoot.

It didn't matter right now though. He held the blade to an undamaged area on his arm and slid it across the pale skin.

Pain, physical pain brought his respite from the mental pain going through his mind. Logan gasped slightly from it, but then sighed with the relief. He cut again…and again…and again. Longer. Deeper. He lost track of what he was doing. He only stopped when he realized he couldn't see his arm really anymore—it was covered in blood. Suddenly light-headed and dizzy, he slid down the wall and came to rest on the floor, holding his arm in front of him in slight shock.

The blood seemed to keep flowing from his arm. Some distant part of Logan was concerned that he might be losing too much blood, that he should try to stop it, hold it under water, apply pressure, do something, anything… but Logan could only seem to watch the blood, fascinated.

"Logan?" Kendall's voice came at the door. Logan felt his eyes widen and his breathing quicken as Kendall knocked lightly. "Are you in here?" Oh God, he hadn't locked the door. In his extreme panic he had forgotten to lock the doors. He reached half-heartedly for the door, but it was too far away and Kendall was already opening it.

"Don't come in," Logan tried to say, but found his voice was weak and trembling. Kendall came in and immediately saw Logan on the ground, clutching a bloody razor blade in one hand, his left arm covered in bright red blood stretched out in front of him.

"Logan!" Kendall cried, a look of pure shock coming over his face. "Jesus!" Kendall grabbed for the towel on the vanity and pressed it to Logan's bleeding arm. "What's happening? What happened?" Kendall's gaze fell again on the razor blade and his eyes filled with hurt and disbelief. "Did you do this to yourself?"

Logan couldn't answer. Tears just rolled down his cheeks. He couldn't stop the pain. The mental onslaught was back, now accompanied by the stinging in his arm. And now Kendall was witnessing it all. This wasn't supposed to happen. Logan freely sobbed and Kendall drew him in close, holding him in one arm while his other hand kept the towel firmly pressed on Logan's cuts.

"I'm s-s-s-so so-sorry," Logan sobbed, not even trying to keep his voice down.

"Logan, why did you do this?" Kendall asked desperately. "Why would you do this?"

The other door, leading to Carlos and James's room, opened. James was standing there, looking pissed off, with a sleepy Carlos just visible behind him.

"Excuse me, what is going on in here…" James's voice trailed off as he took in the scene in front of him—Logan sobbing and Kendall holding him tightly, one hand holding a blood-soaked towel to Logan's arm. "What happened?" James demanded anxiously, immediately coming and kneeling in front of the two. His eyes, inspecting Logan, also found the razor that Logan still had tightly clutched in his hand. It was, like Logan's arm, covered in blood. "No…" James whispered, his voice and face full of pure horror.

"Logan…" Carlos breathed, taking the scene in himself. "Logan…"

"Stop!" Logan sobbed, trying to push Kendall off of him. The blonde held him tight and didn't let go. "Get away. Leave me alone."

"Logan, you tried to kill yourself!" Carlos exclaimed.

"No!" Logan shouted, very serious. "I wasn't! I didn't! I was just…I had to let it out, you know? It was too much and I had to let it out." His eyes welled up again as his friends looked so confused and sad. "You don't understand," he sobbed.

The noise had by this time attracted Mama Knight and Katie. "What's going on in here?" Mama Knight demanded as she walked in through the door through James and Carlos's room. Her face went white as a sheet when she saw the boys gathered around a bleeding and hysterical Logan.

"Don't you all know it's the middle of the night?" they heard Katie whining as she started to come in behind her mother. Logan felt his eyes widen and he frantically scrabbled to get away. Not Katie. Katie couldn't see this. Not the girl who was almost his sister.

James had shot up as soon as he heard Katie's voice. "Don't let her see this, James," Kendall had ordered frantically, clearly torn between protecting his sister from the gruesome sight and staying with Logan.

They just barely saw Katie in the doorway before James grabbed her and pulled her away. But she must have seen enough. "What's going on?" she demanded. "James, let me go! I saw blood! Who's hurt?! James!" she shrieked.

"You don't want to see it, Katie, you don't need to see it," he was telling her. Logan felt his consciousness slipping as the combination of blood loss and complete and utter terror at the situation took over.

"Mom, the bleeding isn't stopping—"

"What happened?!"

"Logan, are you okay? No, Logan!"

"I think he's passing out, Mom we have to take him to the hospital."

"What's wrong with Logan!"

"Katie, I'm not letting you go in there!"

"Logan, sweetie, can you hear me? Logan?"

"He's not answering and he's still bleeding, I can't stop it! God, don't let him be dying please!"

"I'll call 911!"

"Logan!"

"Logan!"

"LOGAN!"

~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~

Sometime later—he didn't know how much later—he felt fogginess. His entire mind felt like it was wrapped in cotton and he was trying to fight his way through it. He couldn't open his eyes he discovered quickly, but he could hear the things going on around him.

First of all, there was a steady beeping. Like…a heart monitor? That was background noise though. Mainly what he heard was the whispers going on around him.

"When will he wake up?" That was Carlos's voice, Logan realized. It sounded raw, like he'd been crying.

"The doctor said the drugs will wear off soon, sweetie." Mama Knight. She was weary, tired…sad too.

"I don't understand, Mom." Kendall. He was lost, confused, his voice was desperate and pleading.

"I don't either sweetie," Mama Knight admitted. "I guess Logan was good at hiding things."

A sniffle and a sob that could only belong to Katie. "Hey, Katie, come here." That was James. Logan heard movement and the creak of a chair. "It's going to be okay. The doctor said Logan will be fine."

"But he did this to himself," Katie cried. Her voice sent aching spasms through Logan's chest. "You said he did that to himself. And there was so much blood, it was so awful."

"Shh, hey, I know," James comforted. "But he'll be okay. He's getting help now."

"I'm sorry you had to see that, baby sister." Kendall again.

Logan felt his mind clearing in just the slightest. He thought that maybe he could open his eyes if he tried really hard. The first attempt did nothing. The second time he tried, his lashes fluttered and then fell shut again. His eyelids were still so heavy…

"Shh, did you see that?" Carlos suddenly whispered loudly. "He's waking up."

Movement told Logan that everyone had suddenly leaned in closer. "Logan?" he heard Kendall's voice. It sounded…encouraging. "Can you hear me?" Someone—Kendall—grabbed Logan's hand. "If you can hear me…squeeze my hand."

That seemed simple enough. Logan gave Kendall's hand the lightest squeeze possible, and Kendall gave an encouraging squeeze of his own. "That's right! Can you open your eyes now?"

Of course. He had too. They were waiting for him now. Logan tried again to open his eyes. They fluttered a few times and finally managed to rest open. Everything was blurry and he blinked a few times to clear his vision.

Kendall sat in a chair pulled close to his bedside, one of Logan's hands wrapped firmly in both of his own. Mama Knight was on his other side and Carlos was beside her. Near the foot of the bed, James was sitting, holding Katie in his lap as though she were a small child.

Logan felt it all come rushing back. What he'd done. What they'd all seen. How much pain he must have put them through. "I'm sorry," he choked out, his voice weak.

Everyone immediately started shushing him. "Don't apologize, Logan," Carlos told him, grabbing Logan's other hand, but very gently. It was then that Logan noticed the heavy bandages on his left arm. He stared at them, shocked by what he'd done.

Kendall followed Logan's gaze. "You cut really deep, Logan," he told him gently.

"The doctor said…" Carlos stuttered. "…he said we could have…have lost you if Kendall hadn't found you…when he did."

Logan didn't know what to say. He had to make this better somehow. "I wasn't trying to kill myself," he told them pleadingly.

"We know, Logan," Mama Knight assured him. "Don't worry. Everything's going to be all right now. We're all here."

Logan felt his eyes drawn to Katie. The poor twelve-year-old girl he'd considered a sister for years. She looked up to him. What had he done to her? "Katie," he whispered. "I'm…I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you had to see this."

Katie climbed off of James's lap and came to Logan's bedside and wrapped her arms around him. "I just want you to be okay," she whispered in his ear. Logan felt her tear-filled eyelashes brush against his cheek and he gave a shudder, again realizing what he'd put them through.

"I just…" he whispered. "I just wanted to be perfect for you guys. But I couldn't. I just couldn't." He gulped. "And when I couldn't, I didn't want you to feel my pain. I couldn't make you feel as bad as I did."

Kendall squeezed Logan's hand tighter. "Logan, that's what we're here for. We're here for you to lean on. God knows we lean on you plenty."

"We want you to tell us when you feel like this," Carlos insisted. "It hurts worse to know you were hiding this from us."

Logan blinked back tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to burden you."

"You could never burden us, Logan," James murmured in a comforting tone, as he got up from his chair and sat on the end of Logan's bed. "We're not just your friends. We're your family."

"Brothers," Kendall picked up with a smile.

"And sister," Katie sobbed into Logan's shoulder.

Mama Knight smoothed Logan's hair. "And a mother."

Logan felt overwhelmed. "I…I…"

"Shh, sweetie, why don't you get some rest?" Mama Knight suggested.

"The doctor said you were going to be really tired for the next few days," James said. "Get some sleep. And we'll still be here when you wake up."

Logan felt himself drifting off to sleep again. And he was sure that James was right…they would still be there. They would always be there.

And it made him feel…safe.