A/N: So this story is re-published...yeah. My cousin was playing on my laptop and he found the bookmarks. He was probably scrolling and FF intrigued him so he clicked on it and found my stories and then he deleted this one. Thankfully, I had saved it and now I found it. So, The Rescue is back, re-edited (because I had many mistakes too) and hopefully it will gain the response it got the first time it was published. I am sorry if one day you saw it missing from your alert/fav list, (I get upset when it happens to me anyway) but here it is. A better version of it I hope. You will be the ones to tell me...? (hint: review) :)

I do not own Big Time Rush. Just putting the disclaimer there and now you can read on.

Logan Mitchell is walking nervously up and down the waiting hall outside the doctor's office. His mind is making up scenarios that all these months the work he did was completely wasted.
He was sure, though, he saw some improvement. At least the slightest. From nothing at all.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the doctor's door squeak as it opened. Logan saw the doctor peeking from the door frame and gesturing to him to come in. He flew in the office closing the door behind him.

"Where is he?" he said, eyes wandering around the room a little bit worried.

"He'll be here in a few. Take a sit, please." The doctor suggested as he wore his glasses and started writing on a piece of paper.

Logan sat on one of the chairs opposite the doctor's desk and looked at him.
"So," he paused, "any improvement since last time?"

"Luckily, yes," the doctor looked up at him over his glasses, "I think you are doing a pretty good job," he continued returning his attention at his papers.

Logan felt a relief, his nervousness slowly being replaced with hope. The door opened and Logan didn't notice until he heard the familiar happy voice.

"Daddy!" Logan bent low on his knees to hug him.

"Oh, baby, are you okay? How do you feel?" he asked as the boy crushed into his hug wrapping his little hands around his neck.

Logan didn't really expect an answer. And he didn't get one. Although he hoped he would.

He stood up taking the boy along in his arms while he saw a nurse handing some medical papers to the doctor. She moved out as silently as she got in and closed the door behind her.
Logan was impatient to know. He pinned his eyes on the papers the doctor was studying as his little boy rested his head on his shoulder.

Finally, the doctor turned to them as Logan sat on the chair again, placing his son on his lap.
"Seems like his vocabulary is much better than last time and," he paused as he turned the page over, "he reacts to more than fifty new pictures, which is a pleasant surprise." He stated as he continued reading on the page his was on.

Logan smiled and kissed softly his son's dark hair.

"What about his writing?" Logan asked. He had spent days, weeks, whole months trying his best to help his son, practicing with him and trying really hard to teach him some basic words. There had to be some progress.

"Well," he paused again, "as I can see there's not much of an improvement, but what he already knows is quite encouraging considering his age and situation."

Logan let out a sigh of disappointment as he looked down to his son and stroked his hair. How could it be? They've been working so hard-

"It's normal, you don't need to worry."
Normal? Not to worry? That is ridiculous. He disliked doctors for this exact reason. They lie. They lie to comfort you and it's worse than speaking the blunt truth. His son was almost five and knew less than a two year old child. That is a fact and it's not normal. Or they wouldn't be here right now.

He held back the furious look he wanted to give, faking a smile instead, "It's not easy, I try."

"Okay," The doctor replied and handed the papers over to Logan. Logan took them, folded them and shoved the sad documents into his jacket pocket for later study, "See you in six months then?"

Logan nodded, obviously unhappy. He looked down at his little child.
"Let's go, Max." he murmured as he took the little hand in his and headed out of the office.

Logan fished the car keys out of the pocket of his jacket and unlocked the car. He opened the back door behind the driver's seat, lifted Max to place him on the child's seat and securely fastened him. He kissed the child's head before closing the door. Once he was in the vehicle too, he fastened his own seatbelt, turned the engine on and pulled out of the parking lot.

It was cold. A cold February night in Minnesota. Logan was driving on the highway back to their house. The hospital was an hour's drive and from the rear view mirror he could see his son falling asleep already. He smiled and returned his eyes on the road.

It was strange, in these thirty minutes that had passed he hardly saw one or two cars and those were driving on the opposite lane. Logan left out a sigh and continued driving even though his mind would wander. It would drift into thoughts quite often since their move, thoughts of the life he left back; the people he left back.

They just moved to Minnesota from Texas and it was a big change for them. The main reason was because they heard the best pediatricians for cases like Max's were in near Minnesota and secondly because his uncle – he passed away a few months prior – had left his house to Logan. So, since there was nothing holding Logan back there, he grabbed the opportunity of starting a new life with his son. He was dedicating all his time to his little source of joy that was currently sleeping peacefully on the backseat. And he was planning on doing this for as long as it takes, until Max could stand on his own feet no longer needing his father's aid.

Logan had been through a lot the last five years.

He was just turning eighteen when he fell for Jett, the love of his life – or that's what he thought back then. Jett was also eighteen. They went to college and moved in a small apartment together so their relationship blossomed quite fast. Their love seemed to have no end, each day growing bigger and bigger. They would spend whole days and nights together and yet they couldn't get enough of each other.

By the age of twenty they decided they wanted a child. When Logan told his parents, they were hesitant, telling him to think it again, that raising a child and at such a young age was not an easy task, that it was rather hard. That a child is not a doll. And he knew it. But Logan and Jett could do anything as soon as they were together; and that would be for the rest of their lives. Logan had made up his mind, he wasn't held back by his young age, the studies, the job he had to find, the sacrifices. He felt ready as long as Jett was by his side. He had found love, happiness and he wanted to be complete by starting a family.

After a month they had already figured who would carry their baby and they were even buying little clothes here and there because they were just very impatient. They were happy.

. . . .

The phone was ringing.

"Mmm," Jett whined in complaint. But the phone continued ringing.

"Logan. Logan pick it up," he mumbled while turning around to bury his head in his pillow.

Logan groaned, "Okay baby, okay. Don't bark," he mumbled back as he lifted himself on his elbows and got off the bed with difficulty. With eyes half open, he slowly walked to the phone on the little table across their bedroom.

"Hello?" he answered right before he yawned, "What? Now?" his eyes opened wide and his voice grew loud enough for Jett to hear. Jett turned over to Logan's direction to see him grin as he leaned his own body against the headboard of their bed, "Okay we are on our way!" Logan hang up quickly and before he could say anything, Jett spoke.

"Was it..? Are we...?" He was so excited he couldn't form the question.

"Yes baby, we are fathers!" Logan almost yelled and grabbed his jeans from the chair next to the table to wear them. "Come on, move your butt!"

Jett got off their bed and run to kiss Logan passionately. They kissed for a few seconds before Logan broke the kiss and put messily his shirt on. Jett stood there staring in a blank world when Logan's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Baby, you aren't coming naked, are you?" he giggled and Jett did too when he looked at himself.
"I'll wait for you in the car. Hurry up, our son is waiting!" Logan spoke again his voice fading as he moved towards the front door. Jett rolled his eyes but he was grinning too. He loved that man.

...

"Hey Jo," Jett bent over her visibly swollen body to hug her, "did everything go okay?"

"Yes, that's what the doctors say. Your baby is gorgeous Jett, simply gorgeous!" Jett couldn't hide a smile, his happiness was showing.

"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously.

"I've been better," she said, "it was all worth it, though. When you see him you will understand."

"Jo!" Logan called from the door and walked next to Jett, beside the bed, "how did it go? Are you okay? The doctor said you are okay but-"

"Logan, I am fine," she interrupted his train of questions, "what are you doing here, go see your son!"

Logan smiled, bent to kiss her forehead and whispered a 'thank you' before grabbing Jett's hand and storming out of the room.

...

"Just look at him," Jett whispered to Logan, "he is so perfect."

They were hugging now, looking through the window where all the newborns were.

"I can't believe we have a son."

In response Jett turned his head and kissed Logan, "Our son," he whispered through the kiss.

Logan broke the kiss and rested their foreheads together, "I am so happy," he whispered.

Jett nodded, "I love you," he pecked Logan's lips, "so much."

"I love you too."

...

"I should be the one complaining in here!" Logan yelled at Jett.
Max's crying was being heard through the door.

"Are you kidding me? I am doing a big effort here and you are just changing diapers and playing genius!"

Logan couldn't believe what was just said. He pointed a finger to Jett. "Don't you dare blame me I don't try hard, you spend more time with your mirror than with your family!"

Jett raised his hand, ready to connect his palm with Logan's face, when he suddenly stopped it midway.

Logan's heart was getting shattered even more as the moments passed, "Are you going to hit me now, Jett? Go ahead, what's stopping you? Do it!"

Jett bit his lip so hard he cut it. He was so angry, ready to explode.
Now the crying was more intense and loud, the only sound breaking the silence between them.

"It's your fault! It's your fault our child is completely useless!" Jett finally yelled back. Tears were staining Logan's cheeks at the words the man he loved just said. "I can't have a child like this," he continued, Logan's eyes were about to fall off.

"I tried Logan, I can't love him I can't-" Jett's sentence broke when Logan slapped him hard across his face.

"Leave. Now." Logan said in a low voice, tears streaming down his face, staining his shirt.

Jett glared at Logan, his hand cupping his red cheek.

"I was leaving anyway." he replied as calm as Logan had spoke to him.

Logan stepped aside to make way for Jett to leave and he did, slamming the door behind him so hard the whole house trembled.

. . . .

Now Logan was crying silently, big salty tears sliding down his cheeks. Every once in a while he wiped them away with the back of his hand.
Remembering the best and the worst days of his life wasn't something that happened rarely. Remembering how happy he was. How complete. It still hurt the same.

His mind got back in the car when he heard Max humming behind him. Logan turned for a second to see Max playing with his little airplane, so innocent, so beautiful.
Logan smiled. Nothing was more important than his child. Nothing and anybody.

He focused on the road now, all thoughts had flown away. It was almost 10pm. After a few miles it started raining. Actually no, it started pouring down.

The visibility gone bad and Logan struggled to follow the road straight. The water was hitting the car from all its sides. It couldn't be swept away, from the front window, fast enough for him to see forward. Suddenly a figure appeared a few meters in front of the car and Logan literally kicked the brakes. The car slipped on the wet road, swerving from side to side and Logan was trying to stop it, gain control of the wheel, but he lost it. Now the car was heading in the woods.

Then just…DARK.

. . . .

"Hey,"

"Hey!"

"Can you hear me?"

Logan opened his eyes in the slightest. Everything was blur, all he could see was a figure above him. Lips moving, letting out words as if they came from far far away.

"HEY,"

Now his hearing was recovering and everything was louder. Logan opened his eyes more, trying to adjust to the pictures around him. A blond head was blocking his view.

"Thank god, you are awake," a relieved sigh came out of the blond's lips.

"What happen- aah," Logan groaned, something like a brick hit his head from the inside.

"Don't move, you were in an accident and you are injured. An ambulance is on its way..."
Maybe this man was still talking, but Logan heard nothing. Everything came rushing to the surface now. The rain. The car. The dark figure. The sqeaking tiles. Everything.

Max. MAX.

"WHERE IS HE?" he yelled and sat up, eyes wandering around in terror, desperately looking for his son. Every inch of his body hurt, but he didn't notice. He didn't care.

"Calm down!" the blond grabbed his shoulders, struggling to keep Logan still, "Where is who?" he asked really confused, searching for Logan's eyes. Logan kept repeating the same question for the next few seconds until the blank look in the blond's green eyes panicked him even more.

"MY SON! Where is my son!" Logan chocked out his last words. He started crying now, fighting to break free from the blond's hold.

"I found only you, noone else," green eyes looked deep into shocked, full-of-tears dark ones. Logan stopped fighting, tears still falling from his eyes which slowly closed again.

Max was Logan's last thought before the dark consumed him for once more.