Kendall is bored. Waiting has never been something he's good at, that wide-eyed, childhood impatience being something he's never outgrown. He fidgets like a four-year-old as he waits on Dr. Hollywood to come back in the room.

After much poking and prodding, the man told Kendall to wait a few minutes for his return. Kendall found the doctor's facial expressions odd, his stubbly upper lip curling towards his sunglass-covered eyes. "I have to go look at your piss," he'd mumbled while exiting the room.

That had to have been forty-five minutes ago, at least.

Wandering about the room, Kendall begins taking apart the anatomically correct mannequin as he waits. There's this removable door on the stomach which Kendall clicks off, revealing intricate intestines and vital organs. He squats down on eye level with the stuff and gets super close to the liver. Kendall starts thinking about how this is what he looks like on the inside, but with a lot more blood, a lot more goo, and he feels that rumbling in his stomach that has become all too familiar in the last weeks. He makes it to the adjacent bathroom just in time to heave his breakfast, and almost laughs when he recognizes the piece of gum he'd swallowed so he could eat his cocoa puffs. Almostlaughs, until he sees how disgusting the mess in the toilet is and heaves even when there's nothing left to heave.

Dr. Hollywood comes back in the room with a nurse just as Kendall is exiting the bathroom. He takes a moment to lean against the metal frame of the door, the cool temperature a balm to his overheated cheeks. He wonders for the hundredth time what the hell is wrong with him and hopes he's about to find out.

"Kendall," the doctor starts, removing his glasses and patting the examination table, "come lie flat on your back." Kendall thinks it's an odd request; he's been thoroughly examined. All this poking is beginning to make him irritable, but he does as the doctor asks.

The man starts pressing on his stomach, and it hurts, but Kendall keeps his mouth shut. It's when Dr. Hollywood starts whispering to the nurse Kendall can't keep quiet.

"Give it to me straight, Doc. I can handle it. What do I have? Melanoma? Diphtheria? The Clap? How much time do you give me? Six months?" Kendall thinks he's making a joke, trying to ease the obvious tension in the room, but the doctor just shushes him and mumbles something like probably seven. Kendall starts to get nervous now; is he actually dying?

Dr. Hollywood pulls a tiny contraption from his lab coat, a boxy shaped thing about the size of a radio with what looks like a flat topped microphone attached by a coiled phone cord. Weird. He squirts some gel crap on the flat part and has the nurse lift Kendall's shirt.

"What's she doing?" Kendall asks, wondering if he's about to be gang-banged in some kind of naughty doctor fantasy. Dr. Hollywood squeezes some gel crap onto Kendall's stomach, and he can't help the tiny giggle that escapes when he feels the frosty temperature.

"I'm supposed to have a lady in the room for these types of examinations…you know," Dr. Hollywood replies, gesturing to his crotch, then Kendall's crotch, then the nurses crotch.

"But I'm a guy," Kendall argues, the whole thing getting stranger and stranger as the flat microphone is pressed, hard, against his abdomen.

"See, that's what I thought!" the doctor exclaims. "You are a guy, right?"

"Well, yeah, last I checked," Kendall offers.

"Hmmm." He prods more, presses harder, a sound like a full washing machine agitating suddenly filling the room. "Hmmm. Strange. Hmmm."

"Hmmm," Kendall hums, dripping sarcasm. "Mind telling me what's going on?"

"I never get tired of using this thing," the doctor says to the nurse, smiling and laughing. "The sound of life. Great. So much more relaxing than that whale song junk my ex used to listen to while going to sleep. All that hrrrroong and whawhawha is just annoying."

"Hey!" Kendall waves his arms frantically. "What about me? What the fuck are you talking about?" He doesn't like dropping the f-bomb in front of a medical professional, but the professional part is becoming less and less believable as the moments elapse.

"Mr. Knight, Kendall, you really need to clean up your language since you're going to be a mommy."

Kendall snorts but his laughter fades when the doctor's expression doesn't change. It's like all sound is muted but the whooshing of the tiny box the doctor holds. This rapid, unearthly, underwater sound is supposedly a kid inside Kendall. It makes sense, but it doesn't. The vomiting, the puffy nipples, the random crying and fits of rage. How? How?

"But I'm a guy," Kendall protests, his voice quiet and feeble. Kendall is already formulating a plan in his head, a plan on getting a second opinion.

"I know, right?! Crazy."

Kendall looks to the nurse for support, looks for an aghast expression, something to indicate he's not the only normal person in the room, but he's disappointed. She's chewing her gum with a look on her face blanker than a blue L.A. sky.

"But I don't have a uterus."

"Well," Dr. Hollywood begins, running a hand through his perfect, wavy hair. No wonder James doesn't like coming here. Hair rival. "You don't really need a uterus to carry a kid. It's nice and safe and uteruses, or, wait, would it be uteri? I don't know. Anyway, uteri are for carrying kids and it gives the placenta a nice place to attach and all that, but a fertilized egg can really plant itself anywhere in the body. Hey, you should probably go see a doctor."

"You are a doctor!" Kendall shouts, still waiting on the punchline to the joke.

"I mean one of those special doctors, kid. Like, a gynecologist. Wait, no, for babies you need an OB-GYN. This is going to be so weird, because, like, you don't have a vagina. You don't have a vagina, right?"

"No. No. We've established—I don't know how many times now, like, forty—I'm a guy. I have a dick and balls. I'm a guy!" Kendall's voice goes higher and higher as he speaks, squeaking even worse than when he first entered puberty. He realizes how panicked he sounds, how the octave of his voice almost belies his protestations.

"You need to calm down. It's bad, you know, for the baby, or something." Dr. Hollywood shuts off the machine, the whooshing abruptly stopping and the room going quiet in time for Kendall's stomach to let out a gurgle.

Uncaring about the goo on his middle, Kendall shrugs the doctor aside, pulls down his shirt. "I'm so outta here," he mumbles, upset when the door doesn't slam the way he wants it to.

That doctor is whacko, fucked, inebriated, a quack. Kendall is, and always has been, a full-fledged dude. He's been kicked and kneed in the nuts enough to know they're there. He's held his cock in his hand more times than he can count. He's written his name in the goddamn snow every winter since he was seven.

Even knowing, without a doubt, he's a guy, it doesn't keep Kendall from stopping at the nearest pharmacy and buying no less than eighteen pregnancy tests, one of each brand.

He tries not to think it's odd when he stops at the grocery aisle to pick up sauerkraut and peanut butter.

~oOo~

"This is impossible! Impossible!" Logan hears from the bathroom. He's just come back to 2J after an interesting day at the Long Division Museum, still slightly disappointed he couldn't talk any of his friends into going with him. Usually, he can depend on Kendall for such things, even though the other guy complains most of the time. Still, it's nice to have someone to express his excitement, even though it's not returned.

Logan knows Kendall hasn't been feeling so hot, and he forgave him rather quickly. The shouts from the bathroom, however, don't sound like Kendall's usual vomiting routine. He shuts the door to the bedroom behind him, and walks over the bathroom door, wondering if he should interrupt. He taps his knuckles on the door, lightly, and hears a panicked yelp from Kendall, the rustling of some papers.

"Who is it?" Kendall asks, frantic. Logan can't help but become worried; Kendall is never frantic.

"It's me," Logan replies. "Can I come in?"

"No. No, don't come in." More rustling. "This is impossible!"

"Kendall, let me in," Logan demands, trying the door knob. He's surprised when it turns. So now, not only is Kendall frantic, but forgetful. Something big is up. When the door is fully opened, to say he is shocked is a huge fucking understatement.

"This is impossible!" Kendall says again, hands in his hair, face red and blotchy.

"There's piss everywhere." Logan points his finger to a spatter on the side of the tub, then to a puddle by the toilet, then some sprinkles on the sink. It takes him a few more moments, but he realizes there are at least a dozen—if not two dozen—pregnancy tests scattered across the toilet tank, the shower, the sink and the floor. It's chaos.

And it makes no sense. Not a bit of it.

Logan can't wrap his mind around what's going on, and Kendall just stares at him expectantly, as though he can confirm or deny that "this" (whatever "this" is) is impossible. His eyes flit around the sticks, the tabs, the droppers and cups of pee until he starts registering some results. One has a happy face. Another, a plus sign. Another, two blue lines. There are even a few digital ones, some reading "test is working" others, proclaiming happily, the single word "pregnant".

A timer goes off, and Kendall's crazy eyes dart to one of the digitals. He picks is up and snorts, throwing it down in disgust. Finally, he looks at Logan, his expression smoothed out, calmed. They stare at each other for ages until Kendall starts full out laughing. Logan is, maybe, a teensy bit frightened. So much for the temporary moment of sanity.

"Hey, Logan," Kendall starts between gulps of giggles, "what was in that stuff I fell on?"

Logan wracks his brain, taking inventory while also trying to find out what in the hell Kendall is doing with so much pee and pregnancy tests.

"Is Lucy pregnant?" Logan asks, thinking there has to be some reasonable explanation for what's happening, why Kendall is flipping his shit—or piss, rather—in the middle of the bathroom. Kendall only laughs harder.

"I wish. I wish Lucy were pregnant. Damn if that wouldn't be easier." His laughter stops as suddenly as it came on. "No, really, Logie, what was on that table I smashed?"

Logan starts spewing out everything he can remember, "Um, uh, carnitine, domifene, biosynthesized methionine." Logan pauses, squints. "Coffee beans, protein extract, ova. Oh, estrogen and testosterone, of course. Um, saline—"

"Wait, what? What are you even saying right now?"

"I'm telling you what was on the ta—"

"Let me rephrase. Tell me if there was anything on that table—anything at all—that on god's green earth could make me pregnant. Tell me that's not possible, Logan," Kendall deadpans, his voice going low.

It's like this high-pitched buzzing suddenly sounds off in Logan's ears and he sees black spots. He couldn't have. Could he? He was close to figuring things out. He wasn't looking to make a man pregnant, just the run of the mill woman having trouble, but damn if this wouldn't get him acclaim. For a second, a fraction of a half of a second, Logan sees himself on Dateline talking about the successful implantation of a fertilized egg in a man. Not even on purpose. Logan snaps out of it when he registers Kendall's worried expression. Kendall is right. It's just not possible. He thinks of the gash on Kendall's abdomen and absently looks toward the jagged scar. Kendall notices and protectively covers his middle.

"It's not possible, Ken. They cleaned out the wound when they stitched it up. It's all standard procedure. And the ova weren't fertilized when I…" he stops. He needs to sit down. Why is there no where to sit down that's not covered in piss or pregnancy tests?

"You see all these tests?" Kendall picks up a handful of the white sticks, tosses them in the air and they rain down like some sort of comical confetti, some kind of fucked up hailstorm. "They all say it's possible. So does Dr. Hollywood, although I trust these impersonal pieces of plastic more than him."

"I-I-I—" Logan tries speaking again. He threw his sperm at Kendall, and then he fell in the ova. There were something like six to eight eggs in one Petri dish. But they were frozen for the most part. Could his fertilization method be that effective? To still fertilize and implant so quickly, despite the ova being frozen, that by the time Kendall was cleaned and sewed up, he was already pregnant?

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Logan moans. This is bad. Very bad. Logan thinks of the complications, all of Kendall's vital organs being pushed around and misplaced already. He adds it up in his head—only a tiny bit smug that he can still do math under this type of pressure—and figures Kendall would be close to nine weeks along. "This is bad." He starts to pace, uncaring anymore about the urine he walks through, the multiple tests crushing under his feet.

"Logan," Kendall cuts in, but Logan keeps pacing, maniacally twisting his hair between his fingers, his face burning with shame and fear. "Logan!" Kendall shouts. Logan stops pacing to look at him, and how the fuck is Kendall so calm right now? It's like his panic has transferred to Logan, and all that's left in him is a firm resolve.

"What, Kendall, what?"

"It looks like you won the prank war, big time."

~oOo~

They keep it to themselves for another two weeks until Kendall can get in to see a real doctor. Logan makes the appointment, not mentioning the fact Kendall is a guy. Maybe that might've been important.

In the waiting room, they get strange looks, and Kendall feels like he might get sick again, despite the fact he's already thrown up twice this morning. How do these fucked up situations always happen to him? He picks up a Mommy to Be magazine and tries to feign calm despite the panic building. This should be fun to explain.

Despite his cool façade, Kendall is pretty damn pissed at Logan. He's trying his best not to be; Logan's intentions, as always, were good. He had been experimenting to try to help normal couples become families. But why did he have to throw sperm? God, wouldn't Kendall have done the same thing? Probably. But being rational is difficult at the moment.

"Kendall Knight?" the nurse calls. Kendall and Logan stand, and they're given an odd look as they follow the elderly woman to the back. She has the decency to hold her questions until the door to the lobby is shut.

"Hi," Kendall says, at a loss to even begin.

"Is this some sort of joke or prank?" she asks.

"No," Logan replies, "we're not allowed to prank anymore."

The nurse takes a long look at both of them and shrugs. "Follow me."

She takes Kendall's height and weight, blood, urine and blood pressure. She puts Kendall's pee on a strip that looks like several of the ones Kendall had used at home. Sure enough, it reads positive and she shows visible confusion.

"Forgive me for asking, I just need to be sure, but you are a man, correct, Kendall. The nurse winces, as though she might've asked this question before and gotten in trouble for it.

"Yes," he replies.

"No complications as a child? No problems during puberty? No intersex conditions at birth?"

"What?" Kendall asks.

"No external and internal genitals?" she continues.

"Huh?" And fuck if Kendall isn't blushing and confused as hell.

"She means, are you a hermaphrodite," Logan clarifies, whispering as though he's embarrassed as well. Which, when Kendall looks at him, he notices his cheeks are redder than a baboon's butt.

"Oh! God no. I'm a guy. Always have been, hopefully always will be."

The nurse goes, "Hmmm," and Kendall is so tired of that sound pretending to be a word. "Is this," she points to Logan and lowers her voice, "your boyfriend?"

"No!" Kendall protests.

"But he is the father?" She lowers her voice even further, "Is this one of those 'friends with benefits' things you young people seem to enjoy so much?" The nurse makes air quotes and everything. Kendall is too shocked to speak and the nurse continues, "When was your last menstrual period? Is there any pain when you have intercourse?"

"Geez, where do they teach you to ask these questions? The University of Nursing for the Blind and Dumb?"

The lady huffs and looks offended. Kendall feels shitty about behaving like a jerk. That's not him. Damn hormones. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm not like this normally."

"He's not," Logan chimes. "He's really, really not." The brunet shakes his head emphatically while Kendall nods. The nurse's lips thin out to a straight line.

"Well I'd be lying if I said you were the first person to snap at me in here. Come back to the room." She stands and gestures for the boys to follow her, stopping in front of an open door. She places Kendall's folder in the slotted space hanging by the entrance. She looks perplexed for a moment.

"Should I get on that table?" Kendall asks, eyes tracing over the stirrups, the pink plastic covered in a paper sheet.

"Normally, I'd ask you to undress and put this paper cover on." She holds up, what looks to be, a thin paper vest that opens in the front. "And you'd put this sheet over your waist."

"What's that vest thing for?" Kendall looks to Logan, tired of the nurse.

"Breast exam," Logan replies, biting his lower lip and looking mortified and kind of cute. Did he just call his best friend cute? Maybe he is turning into a girl. Anyway, he knows he doesn't want to be felt up by some stranger.

"Why don't you guys just have a seat and the doctor will be in shortly." She fiddles with her hands like she doesn't know what to do with them before sighing loudly and leaving the room.

An awkward silence settles over them as they wait; honestly, Logan seems to have been avoiding Kendall the last few weeks.

"I'm so damn sorry about this, Kendall, I mean, this is going to be a major medical procedure, getting that thing out of you, and—"

"What do you mean, 'getting that thing out'? I'm pro-life, dammit," Kendall huffs. It's not a decision he's come across lightly, and he doesn't have any crazy ideas about keeping a kid at seventeen—eighteen, actually, when this is all said and done—but he's not doing the a-word, if that's what Logan means.

"Kendall, you can't possibly carry a fetus full term. You're a guy, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. I've been trying too damn hard to convince everyone else to forget it myself."

Logan sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. He starts breathing hard, too hard to be normal, and he puts his head between his knees. Kendall almost wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Here is his, in a boy band, pregnant, not to mention celibate for months, and Logan is the one dissolving into a panic attack.

"How are we supposed to explain this to people? To Gustavo, the press? Are you planning on hiding it? What about the baby? Do you understand the likelihood of it having implanted anywhere near safe is improbable? This could kill you."

"Would you chill the fuck out, dude? Let's wait for the doctor before we freak out."

What the doctor finally comes in, Dr. Schenk (pronounced "skank" and can they really trust a doctor with that name?), he gives Kendall all the same warnings Logan already has.

"If the egg implanted in a place it can, for the most part, safely grow, your biggest worry would be hemorrhaging when the placenta detaches after birth. The delivery, for obvious reasons, would have to be a cesarean, which is a major surgical procedure even on its own." Dr. Schenk waves his hand. "Now tell me again how this happened?" And Logan goes through the explanation for the tenth time, the doctor looking skeptical.

"Do you know, if what you're telling me if true, you could be featured in any and every major medical journal we know of. You're how old again?"

"Seventeen," Logan answers.

"Wow. You're sure you don't want to make a case study of this? It's never, I mean never, been done. No need for it having been attempted, really."

Logan looks at Kendall; they've had this talk. To make a big deal of this, to draw attention to it from others in the medical field would put Kendall under a microscope and this whole thing would be everywhere. Kendall feels guilty, because this is huge for Logan, this is a breakthrough like Logan has been trying to make since he was big enough to handle a Bunsen burner. He tamps down the guilt, because he hadn't asked for any of this.

"I'm sure," Logan says, and Kendall thinks his fondness stretches a bit more, even though Logan knocked him up without even so much as a dinner date first.

Dr. Schenk whistles, long and loud. "Well then, I think we need to start by doing an ultrasound to find out where this baby is."

~oOo~

Kendall thought rectal probes only happened in alien abductions, but this is real life, and it's totally weird. The doctor explained most women at this point in their pregnancies had to have a vaginal ultrasound to be able to measure the baby, because it's so small. Kendall doesn't have a vagina, so they take the next best route.

His feet are in stirrups and they finally got him into one of those fashionable pink examination gowns. Kendall can tell Logan is trying not to laugh, despite the strangeness of this whole thing.

Having a condom covered probe shoved up his ass is definitely going on Kendall's 'Top Five Most Uncomfortable Things That Have Ever Happened, Ever' list.

The ultrasound technician wiggles and presses the probe around, and Kendall is having difficulty relaxing until she turns the screen towards him.

"Holy shit," Kendall breathes, awe clear in his voice. He can already tell that the baby is an actual thing, even through the blurry images. There's a tiny profile, bumps and ridges indicating a nose, a mouth.

"I think we could've done an external," the tech laughs, "but it wouldn't have been this clear." There's this pulsating movement she points to, and even Logan takes a disbelieving breath. "That's the heart." She presses some buttons, takes some screen captures.

"Well I'll be damned," Dr. Schenk says, shaking his head. He'd insisted on being around for the first look, obviously glad to know they aren't all taking crazy pills.

"There's a baby in there," Logan whispers, as though this is something he's just realizing. Kendall thinks he probably is just fully realizing it. He hadn't completely believed it until this moment himself. Kendall doesn't have any words to describe the mixed emotions he's feeling, but he knows one thing for certain. He's carrying this baby.

"I'd say you're right at eleven weeks. Due on February twenty-ninth, roughly." She laughs again. "How cool would that be?"

"Not at all," Logan replies, face stoic and void of any expression that isn't disbelief.

"So how's it look, Doc? Is it anchored in a good place?" Kendall asks.

"Could you move a bit to the left quadrant, please?" Dr. Schenk requests of the tech. She adjusts the probe, pans left and Kendall groans.

"Sorry," she whispers.

"Frankly, I'm surprised to see you this far along and still carrying. That alone, tells us the fetus is in a relatively good spot. It appears to have implanted right here," Dr. Schenk points to a spot on Kendall's abdomen, right above the jagged silver scar from the prank war, "which is about as good as we can hope for. With your permission, I'm going to check around with some of my colleagues—all confidentially, mind you—who deal with high risk pregnancies." He stops to raise his eyebrows, sigh and tilt his head to the side. "Congratulations, Mr. Knight, Mr. Mitchell. Looks like you're going to have a baby."

Kendall doesn't know whether to say "thanks" or "fuck you" or "what the hell do you mean by that?" so he leaves it to Logan who mutters, "Thanks."

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask," the doctor stops, halfway out the door, "where did you get the unfertilized ova for your experimenting, Mr. Mitchell?"

"Call me Logan, please."

"Logan," the doctor offers. Logan seems to be stalling and Kendall tries to think of a way this whole thing could be worse than it already is. He can't wrap his mind around a situation being any more clusterfucked.

He's proven wrong.

"I, uh." Kendall tries to meet the other boy's eyes, but Logan keeps looking away. Kendall tries telekinesis, the Vulcan mind meld, the Force, and Logan still manages to avoid him. It's a damn good question, one Kendall had wondered himself. He'd just assumed Logan had gotten them from some sort of donation place, but thinking of it, those things have to be expensive.

"Well, Logan?" Kendall prompts.

"Um, they were donated by a private party."

"And who would that private party be?" Kendall is growing impatient, those sassy girl hormones pulsing through his body.

"Oh, nobody you know very well. Just someone not using them."

"Spit it out, Logan," Kendall says, his voice low and dangerous, eyes flashing a creepy shade of snakey green.

"Your mom." Logan quickly looks to Dr. Schenk, as though he might save Logan's ass from getting chewed. "His mom," Logan says, pointing to Kendall.

~oOo~

"Mom, I'm pregnant with your baby. It's yours and it's Logan's and it's in my body." The words slipping past Kendall's lips feel surreal. It might be the first time those specific words have been spoken in such a way in the history of ever. Kendall is astounded at how unafraid he is to tell his mom what's happening, some unnamed feeling stewing in his gut. He tone is almost spiteful. "I'm going to try my best to carry full term, so don't try to talk me out of it.

The color is gone from Mrs. Knight's face as she takes in her son. "I told you guys, these pranks are to stop. This isn't funny." She looks to Logan—everyone always looks to Logan—to try to discover the truth behind this whole thing. Logan's eyes widen, and he gives Mrs. Knight a curt nod. It's all true.

"L-Logan?" Mrs. Knight tries to start, and Kendall can't remember a time his mother has ever stuttered. "How could this happen?"

"It was an accident. When Kendall fell—"

"I see." Mrs. Knight is too calm. Kendall wants her to shout and rage and ground him for a month. He wants her to reprimand Logan, chase him out of the apartment with a shotgun for impregnating her son.

Maybe Kendall is jealous. Maybe that's what the feeling is. How dare his mom donate eggs and Logan accidentally get them fertilized with his own sperm? It's crazy, but Logan and Kendall's mom have something together Kendall and Logan will never have. But why should he care? Logan is his friend, best friend, nothing above or beyond.

Instead of indignant fury, Mrs. Knight laughs, no mirth behind the sound.

"So you," she points to Logan, "got him," she points to Kendall, "pregnant with my baby?" Kendall and Logan both nod. "But he doesn't have a uterus."

"That's exactly what I said!" Kendall exclaims. "But apparently it doesn't matter. And how did Logan harvest your eggs, Mom? Nevermind. I don't want to know."

Mrs. Knight takes a deep breath, put both hands on her cheeks. "Kendall, I'm proud of you for wanting to do the right thing, but you're really too young to be going through this. A baby? Even if it is mine, I just can't see—"

"We'll give the baby up, Mom. As long as you're okay with that. I mean, I know this kid is more yours than mine, but, it's, like, in my body. So, since I'm this high-tech incubator I think I have a say so."

"I didn't get a say so—" Logan mutters.

"Shut up, Logan," Kendall says, looking at his mom expectantly.

"I can't believe you're not screaming at me," Logan says. "Will somebody please just let me have it!?"

"None of this was on purpose, Logan. I'm worried, yes, but angry, no. Uh, I mean, this is, well, it's odd. It's a shock. I'm pretty sure I'm in shock right now. I might blow up later when it all sinks in, but now is the time to be levelheaded. Okay? So, Kendall, honey, are you sure you want to go through with this? No one will blame you if you don't want to con—"

"I'm going through with it. This is my best friend's baby. And, ohmygod, my kid brother or sister. I'm doing it."

Mrs. Knight lets out a long sigh. "You're right, Kendall, you're right. This baby could really be a blessing to someone." She stops to give a resolute nod. "We need to tell the other boys and Katie. And Gustavo. This is—even if it's temporary—this is going to have an impact on everyone. Tell him soon. Especially since you'll need his help to keep this out of the press. You want this out of the press right?"

"No, Mom, I want to have a baby shower with Beyonce and talk about breastfeeding."

Mrs. Knight only gives him a stern look. "Don't put it off."

~oOo~

Logan is in full blown panic mode. Kendall is taking a nap, a nap for fucksake, while Logan's legs are already sore from all the pacing. The roots of his hair hurt from the tugging, and now he's just sitting on the sofa, banished from the bedroom when Kendall couldn't sleep from all the huffing and moaning.

When Logan had resolved to be more grown-up, he didn't think that meant becoming a father when he's barely eighteen.

He's worried more than anything, about Kendall, about the things this is doing to his body, the things this will do to his body. Logan is sure Kendall will wind up hating him. How could he not?

Staring blankly at the wall, Logan doesn't hear James come into the room, only realizing he's not alone when there's the clearing of a throat. He turns around to see the pretty guy standing there, concern pinching his brows.

"Can I help you?" Logan snaps, and he feels bad for sounding so harsh. "Sorry, James, did you need something?"

"Just wondering what's so interesting about that spot on the wall that you've been staring at the last ten minutes," James answers, taking a seat next to Logan. "Anything I can do?"

Logan shakes his head. He shouldn't spill everything now, not with Kendall sleeping and this being a problem shared between the both of them.

"Did you and Kendall fight?" James asks.

"What makes you think that?" Logan shifts a bit on the couch, turns to fully face James.

"You're only ever this upset when you two fight." Logan takes a moment to ponder the statement. That's not true. Can't be. There are plenty of other things he gets quiet and thoughtful about.

"Nuh-uh. When I'm off again with Camille I get like this, right?" Thanks goodness right now they're off again.

James snorts before taking in Logan's serious face, and he abruptly goes quiet again. "Oh, you're serious? Logan, you've never gotten upset over Camille. I mean, you've gotten upset, but never depressed. There's a difference."

James must be crazy. Since when is he observant? Logan shrugs it off. "Kendall and I didn't fight, although he should be furious at me."

"Why?" Logan, against his better judgment, wants to tell someone everything. True, they've told Mrs. Knight, but that's different. He needs a friend right now, a friend on the outside of this screwed up situation.

So Logan just blurts it out. "Kendall's pregnant."

James claps his hands as he lets out a loud laugh. Again, he sees Logan's face and stops. Logan launches into the whole explanation again, and by now he has it down pat.

"You guys just need to get married and get it over with," James comments.

"What's that supposed to mean?" For a moment, a teeny tiny moment, Logan had felt the huge weight of the situation lifted from his shoulders. James slams it back on with the strength of a wrecking ball.

"You guys totally love each other. Maybe you don't notice it because you've loved him from the beginning," James replies, and his expression is so earnest and sure Logan wants to punch him.

"Whatever, dude. Just because he's having my baby and all doesn't mean we're going to ride off into the sunset. There's only a few ways this can end."

"Just because you've decided to give the baby up doesn't mean you two can't be together."

Logan has never considered it, never even contemplated the way he felt about Kendall. Kendall has always just been Logan's best friend, someone he wants to impress, someone he looks up to. There's nothing deeper there.

"You're crazy," Logan laughs, masking his discomfort. James doesn't change his expression and Logan's laughter tapers off into nothing until they're only sitting there staring at each other.

"Do you need a hug, man?" James asks, opening his arms. Logan nods and falls into James, taking the small bit of comfort.