Okay, it dawns on me that I haven't even LOOKED at the archives in FOREVER. This whole writing thing is so cutting into my reading time... Like, holy crap, I'm so stressed out about my four multichapters and I have all these requests and stuff... So, I was noticing how absolutely suffocated I've been feeling, and I came to this conclusion:
I. Love. This.
I love writing, I love all of you, I love sharing ideas, I love TALKING to you people, and I love Big Time Rush! I EVEN LOVE THE STRESS!
Oh, and another note to the longest AN ever (minus that one in BIDs... *wince*) This is for Anim3Fan4ever because he (being the amazing person he is) won that mini contest thing in HIS HIT.
It was always really hard to tell when Carlos was getting sick. The kid had absolutely endless energy, and it took someone who knew him extremely well's watchful eye to peg him as coming down with something. So when no one found out about how nauseous the Latino was feeling until he was actually throwing up in the pool, it wasn't surprising. As kids scampered out of the water, Kendall scooped Carlos up into his arms and took him up to 2J with James leading the way and an already stressed Logan checking his temperature with the back of his hand. "What should I do with him Logan?" Kendall asked as he entered the apartment.
"Stick him in the shower, he's covered in throw-up water." Whenever any one of them got sick, Logan was always thrust into the leader position. Despite countless attempts to teach them, Logan was the only one of his friends who knew anything about taking care of sick people. Kendall was always still pretty much in charge still, but there was a lot more looking to Logan, and checking with Logan, and asking for Logan involved.
Kendall obeyed and made way for Logan as he and James were shoved out of the bathroom, the pale boy with fresh pajamas for Carlos under arm. The two tall boys could only hear the sound of running water, some loud banging, and a few protests from Carlos as Logan stripped, scrubbed, and redressed him. When the door was opened, Logan was sopping wet and Carlos was pouting. "Why can't I go back to the pool?" he whined, and Logan gasped, exasperated.
"Because you're sick!" he answered, giving his friends a desperate look. If there was one thing Carlos didn't know how to do, it was stay in bed. The kid never woke up later than eight o'clock, and spending an entire day in his room was incomprehensible to him. James came to his rescue, but instead of trying to persuade him to rest like Logan had been attempting, he opted to throw the ill Latino over his shoulder and carry him off, dropping him in his bed.
"Now stay," he ordered as he dragged out and plugged in the air mattress. James knew Logan had plans to sleep in their room with Carlos that night. He liked to keep an eye on them when they were sick and make sure they were never alone. James smiled as her remembered one night when he couldn't stop throwing up, and Logan was up with him until he fell asleep, rubbing his back and comforting him at two thirty in the morning. When he woke up, Logan was there with a clean bucket and a bottle of mouth wash. He had somehow managed to stay well until Carlos and Kendall had caught it, and only let himself get the bug when they were feeling completely better.
"Gah, I'm BORED!" Carlos groaned, kicking at his sheets. James laughed at his frustration and punched him playfully. Looking at Carlos, he could now totally see that he was sick. Despite his desperation to get up and go, his eyes lacked the sparkle they normally had.
"You've only been sitting there for, like, two seconds!" he exclaimed, quite frankly amused by Carlos's impatience. Most people were easily annoyed by his friend's lack of an attention span, but years of being best friends had equipped the boys with a tolerance like no other for his inability to focus. It was almost unnatural how long they could put up with him, but that didn't stop the guys from occasionally getting flustered with him, especially when they were trying to keep him still. Carlos continued squirming and groaning. "Will you relaz? I'm sure Logan will be here to entertain you in just a second."
As if on cue, the pale boy walked into the room, hair damp from what might have been the fasted shower ever, clothes mismatched from hurried changing, and arms loaded with things to take care of Carlos with. From entertainment, to headaches, to fevers, Logan was prepared. He immediately upon enteriing stuffed a thermometer in the Latino's mouth and started cleaning up the room, but not before sticking a portable DVD player on the ill boy's lap. Carlos would be absorbed for a whole hour and thirty eight minutes. It was one of those moments where James was just kind of in awe of Logan. He really was going to make a great doctor one day.
"Is that for me?" Logan asked, nodding at the air mattress and folding one of Carlos's t-shirts. James bobbed his head up and down, and Logan blushed, embarrassed that his friends knew how seriously he took them being sick.
All too soon, Carlos's movie was done, but his friends were ready for him. James and Kendall were now officially puke-water free, Logan's bed was made, the room was clean enough for his liking, and James was off to buy saltines and applesauce. As the "Sticks and Stones" rolled on the screen with the credits, Logan tossed Carlos a gatorade before he even had the chance to open his mouth. "How are you feeling?" the taller boy asked, sitting on the edge of his bed and brushing Carlos's short bangs, plastered to his face with sweat from his fever, out of the way.
"Sick," he admitted. You didn't lie to Logan when you weren't feeling good, despite how often he lied to them when he felt ill. Logan had a habit of thinking it was okay for everyone but him to feel sick, hurt, or upset. It didn't make much sense, but that's how he worked. Carlos started to sit up. "Can I go play dome hockey?" he asked. Logan put a hand on his chest and lowered him back down, smirking a little bit.
"Let's play a board game here," he suggested, evoking a groan from Carlos, as board games were "bored" games in his eyes. Logan called for Kendall, who was in the middle of a very annoying conversation on the phone with his worrying mother, and was glad to end it to partake in "The Game Of Life" with his friends, despite them naming his wife Jo and his son Jett. He got back at them anyway by naming Carlos's wife and two daughters all Jennifer, and Logan's wife Camille and his son Steve (which in retrospect was sort of harsh, but so was naming his son Jett!)
After a rousing game, complete with a lot of complaining from James since he wasn't included, Kendall groaned, "I'm hungry!" Logan frowned, his stomach growling, too. He really didn't want to leave Carlos sick and alone, he could never, ever, do that to any one of his friends, but he also didn't want to eat with a nauseous Carlos in the room. He looked to Kendall.
"Why don't you and James go out since Mama Knight is with Minnesota with Katie this weekend?" he offered. "I'll just have toast here." Kendall looked at him skeptically, but reluctantly agreed, so long as he made the toast for him. Logan tried to resist, but if there was ever a stubborn person on earth, it was Kendall Knight. Logan sighed when his meal was delivered covered in peanut butter and sloppily cut banana slices. It was sort of charming to anyone who wasn't Logan how much Kendall loved his friends and tried to take care of them. He was always doing lots of little things for them, which just seemed to fluster Logan. He couldn't understand why people wanted to do things for him, and it confused the boys profusely.
The rest of the day with Carlos was sort of atrocious. He couldn't keep still, couldn't stop trying to get up to do something, and couldn't keep anything down. Logan had once watched over all three of his friends sick at the same time after eating gas station sushi that he had refused to even touch, but never before had he cleaned out so many puke buckets in such a short time in his life. He could barely take his eye off of Carlos, because the second he did, the Latino would leap out of bed and be found trying to bake a cake or on his way to the lobby. At around nine that night, Carlos slowed down, and his bug sped up. He spent a good two hours over the toilet because he would only be able to lie in bed for thirty seconds before having to throw up. At about one a.m. it really started to slow down.
"Logan?" Carlos croaked, voice hoarse after an exceptionally long case of dry heaving. It was two in the morning, and Logan was still sitting up with him, James snoring across the room. "You can go to sleep," he permitted when he caught the other boy's shining brown eyes in the dark. Carlos was extremely thankful for all Logan was doing, he would have never cleaned up anyone's throw up like he did, but he knew that the taller boy was probably getting tired from staying up all night with him. Logan shook his head.
"No, that's fine, I want to make sure you're okay." Carlos rolled his eyes.
"Logie, you've done enough," and it was true, he had. Logan had barely left the room that day, and when he had, it was only to go to the bathroom or get him something. Carlos was sure he could manage if Logan were to go to sleep for a little while. It was annoying that Logan would fight him on this, and it didn't make any sense. "I'm a big boy, go to sleep, I'll be fine." Logan shook his head adamantly.
"No, I wanna stay up, just in case," he said, and Carlos sighed. His head was thumping, but he ignored it, focusing instead. Despite most people's impression of him, Carlos was a pretty observant guy. Even though he was sick, he could still tell that there was more to why Logan wouldn't go to sleep or leave him alone, then what he was saying. He propped himself up on his elbow to get a good look at Logan, who was lying on his air mattress, not paying attention to the vertigo that passed over him.
"Why do you wanna take care of me so bad?" he asked flat out, making Logan jump a little. He stammered for a minute, and Carlos could tell he had surprised him, which was good. Shocking Logan with sheer blatancy was often the only way you could get him to admit things. The slightly taller taller boy looked down at his hands, fumbling with his sheets.
"C-c-cause, m-my d-dad never watched over me, and... and I didn't want that to be you," Carlos gave him a look, and Logan continued, rambling, "I don't know... I mean, you guys know that he wasn't always around all that much, and he really wasn't, especially when I was sick, and I hated being alone and stuff because it made me feel all lonely, and I didn't want... I don't know... I didn't want you to feel like I did, and stuff." Carlos sat up further, guilt and dizziness sweeping over him. He had been giving Logan grief all day about letting him get up and out, and otherwise trying to aggravate his friend until he left and let him do what he wanted. But the way he was looking at him, a fear burning in his eyes that belonged to that neglected boy in Minnesota, it seemed as if Logan needed him to be a patient as much as Carlos truely needed him to be a doctor. He had been whining and whining about going to the pool or hanging out downstairs, and Logan had been so patinet with him...
It made him feel ickier than his stomach did.
"Logan... your dad wasn't very nice to you," he said, resting his flaming cheek on his cool pillow. His fever was really high, at least that's what Logan said, and his head felt like someone was taking a pick ax to his temple. Being sick was officially his least favorite thing in the world, and he was tired of it. Even though he had felt guilty about it, he would much rather be outside moon-bather (AKA: skateboarding at night) than cooped up in his bed still. Logan chuckled nervously beneath him.
"He wasn't that bad," Logan defended, but Carlos shook his head, despite Logan not being able to see him from his spot below. He shook off a yawn as his bed seemed to envelope his aching body.
"You just didn't notice cause you didn't know what a good dad was supposed to be like," he said absentmindedly, things from his groggy brain just spilling over his lips. He closed his eyes. "Plus you had us," he murmured, falling into sleep. He could barely make out Logan's words before he was totally unconscious.
"He really didn't have to be there when you guys were," he said, not noticing how fast Carlos was going to sleep, "You were always there when he wasn't anyway." Carlos smiled to himself, instantly forgetting why he was happy, he was so far gone, but knowing that something Logan had said warmed him all the same. Truthfully, he was just happy that he meant that much to Logan, which is probably something he wished he could have remembered.
The next morning, when he woke up, there was Logan, standing over him with a fresh set of pajamas and another gatorade for him. Just like always.
Okay, I am REALLY hoping that likes this (and Anim3Fan4ever, duh, but oddly especially) because this is the first one I've written with someone sick, and oh my goodness...
Alright, so in case you haven't heard (AND OH MY GOSH, IF YOU HAVEN'T I'LL CRY AT THIS POINT! Just kidding, it's fine) 's Big Time Sickness was the first one BTR fic I ever read, and pretty much my inspiration, so you can see as to why I am concerned about her liking this one, as she is just the end all, the epitome, and the idol of a good Big Time Rush sick story... gah. I love her (or, if you're reading this, I love YOU) so I really want her to not hate it.
And if you guys haven't it, FOR SHAME! Go do it now, this is unacceptable.
