A/N: Well, I'm glad you all like the first chapter, even though I kind of didn't write a closing A/N. I'm a terrible person, I know. Never fear. I will bid thee farewell at the end of today's humble post. As a continuation of my shameless self-promotion, I do have Kames one-shot that you should all go read. (If you like that sort of thing.) And now, as I hear your battle cries for more, I shall let glorious words flow forth from the deep, dark, pit I call my mind.

Disclaimer: If I owned, d'you seriously think I'd have to post my stories on FF? No. They'd be episodes.

Chapter 2: What Even Matters

I tapped at the keyboard furiously, my eyes scanning the programming for any faults or defects.
Absolutely flawless.
James would be pleased.

My eyes flickered over to the wall clock briefly before returning to the screen.
It was nine a.m.

I wondered where James was.
What he was thinking about.
If I had even crossed his mind once in the previous twelve hours.

I stared at my phone, and then shook my head.
Work.
Don't think about him.
Don't think about how good he felt yesterday.
Don't think about how he tasted.
Don't think about how you want more.

It was like carving an ice sculpture out of an iceberg.

My phone rang, and I swear I jumped out of my skin.

"Hello?" I murmured quickly, running a hand through my hair.

"Logan."

"Carlos?" I stood and walked over to the window, moving aside curtains to make sure no one was creeping.

I rubbed my eyes and sat at the table in the kitchen.

"I thought you were still at the Hoag." I hissed, pushing some buttons on a device on the wall to jam any signals that could be roaming.

"I was. I escaped." He sounded hushed.

My cousin had been in a high-security prison for four years, ever since someone flipped his switch and taken Kendall from him.
So, he found Kendall.

Carlos was bodily thrown into prison, and Kendall unrightfully was moved into a mental hospital.

Well, almost unrightfully.
Kendall had been kidnapped and used for sex for six and a half months.
That knocked him off his rocker a little bit.

Carlos had killed everyone in the building Kendall had been held in.
I hadn't expected him to get out of the Hoag for another twenty years.

"What do you want, Carlos?"

"Well, a place to stay would be nice. Also, I need to recuperate. Escaping from a high-security prison was not without a struggle."

I sighed, but knew that my cousin would wind up on my couch anyway.
He was extremely reliable.
And maybe he could help with James.

"Alright. You in the city?"

There was a pained grunt. "Yeah. I'm almost to the house. Bye."

The tone went dead, and I set my phone on the table.
Grand.
Carlos would probably want to break Kendall out of the nut house.
Not that I was opposed, or anything.
It was just going to be insane.

-James' POV-

When I woke, all I could see was white.
My arms were pinned to my sides.
There was a muzzle over my face.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Diamond."

My eyes adjusted to the bright, harsh light in the white room.
When I saw the woman from the coffee shop, my shoulders tensed.
No, I did not begin to scream and yell.
No, I did not begin to panic.
Yes, I did realize that I was in a straightjacket.

I did try to speak though.

"Oh, no no no. You aren't allowed to speak. Here, in this penitentiary, you have no voice. Everyone thinks you're crazy. Even if you aren't. No one listens to crazy people." Her laugh was fluttery.

A thousand ideas flitted though my mind.
No voice?
Challenge accepted.

"Yes, that's right. Keep calm. The insanity will bleed faster." She squatted next to the plastic door of my white room. "If you aren't crazy already, you will be soon." She whispered.

I tugged at the straightjacket, irritated.

Her smile was that of a predator.

"Every. Little. Thing. Will start to bother you. The sound of cloth scratching against your skin. The squeak of the night guard's shoes against the floor. The vibration of a fly's wings. This is what you deserve. So you will endure."

I lifted a calculating eyebrow.
Did this ho really think she could get away with this?

"Your beauty does not matter in this place. Nor does your riches. Or infamy. You must understand that no one cares about you."

I just stared.

"However, I am not unkind. Across from you is a…cellmate of sorts. Kendall Knight has not spoken in four years. Maybe you two will become friends." She stood and walked away, leaving me to get my first look of the Kendall Knight. "This room?" She called. "It will be your grave."

I decided to ignore that.

The first thing I noticed was the vulnerability in his crystal green eyes.
Just like Logan.
He was in a cross legged position near the door of his cell, just gazing curiously back at me.
Dusty blonde hair.
Tiny frame.
The insanity flickered like a bad film in his eyes.
Like something too sharp.
Something that shouldn't be there.

But then there was a scary level of sanity and intelligence that I could see in him clearly.

I didn't know what to think of him.

-Carlos' POV-

I got to Logan's place, and passed out on the couch almost immediately.
My sleep was restless, though.
I suppose that was because I was used to sleeping with one eye open.
There were flashes of things, like Logan talking on the phone.
Logan freaking out.
Logan crying.
Logan tapping something up on his laptop ridiculously fast.
Logan crying some more.

When I finally came all the way to, my cousin sat on the edge of the table, hazel eyes hollow.

"S'wrong, Logie?" I mumbled sleepily, rubbing my face and sitting up.

His expression was that of a man who had everything, but lost the one thing, the only thing that mattered.

"They can't find James." He whispered huskily.

I watched as he buried his face in his hands.
An action I myself had committed so many times in the past four years.

I stood and wrapped Logan in a hug.

"Shh. I know how it feels. I know it hurts so fucking bad, you can't stand it." I whispered, rubbing his back soothingly. "You feel like, now that he's gone, you don't have anything to live for."

Logan nodded miserably.

"Logan."

He lifted his face upwards, a disinterested expression on his face.

"What are you going you do to get him back?"

A/N: There you go, hoes. New chapter ready for its routine review-molesting. Get to it.