Chapter Five: Delusional Dreams
This is what dying feels like.
Silence so absolute he can barely hear his own harsh breathing past the stale air smothering his staggering chest. Darkness so overpowering he can't even see his fingers let alone prove they're even there. Trapped in an inescapable prison, alone and wanting. The hope and belief, that tomorrow will come, tomorrow will be better, that once burned brightly in his passionate eyes, is slowly extinguished by the harsh reality that today is all he has left. Pain so intense his heart beats sluggishly, ready to give up the long fight, ready to surrender to the enemy with no name, and no face, to a common fear called death.
There is nothing to reassure him that he is even still alive at all.
I…I don't wanna die.
Hands are clawing at his skin, tearing him apart, piece by piece, memory by memory, until there is nothing left, not even his sanity. And there are eyes, beady red eyes in the darkness, glaring at him menacingly, daring him to fall asleep. The monsters, corned in the closet like James and the rest of his fathers' junk, will devour him whole if he hazards closing his eyes, even for just one second.
He can't take his eyes off the beast trapped in the closet with him or tomorrow will never come. Kendall will never know, then, how sorry he is for leaving to protect him. Mama Knight will never hug him again; tell him how much he is loved and that this isn't his fault. It never was. Carlos and he will never pull a crazy stunt again. And he'll never have an epic study party with Logan that ends with them pulling pranks and staying up well past midnight on a school night.
There is no monster,he tries to reassure himself, but the beady red eyes remain, staring at him in anticipation, waiting for his eyes to slip close only to never open again.
Death is staring him in the face, literally.
Please god. I don't want to die.
His eyes falter shut. He's just so tired, and thirsty. His throat feels like desert sand under a harsh summer sun. Everything feels like it is spinning, like the whole room is twirling round and round. Though he's lying on the ground, curled up in a tight ball on his side, head resting on the cold ground, his body feels so heavy, so numb...
Lash upon lash reigns down on his naked back. He barely has a chance to breathe before the next blow forces the air from his lungs. The pain is so intense his vision is blurred, and it feels as if a fire has been set to his skin. Blood trickles down his back and it tickles despite the agony burning through his senses. He laughs at the irony, but it only makes his father angry…
The blood that dripped down his back has long since caked over, leaving nothing but a searing pain tearing through his fragile mind every time he dares to even breathe.
His father drags him to his feet by a tight grip on his wrist. With a sickening 'pop' he can feel his shoulder sliding out of place. Bone grinds against bone sending a lightning hot bolt of intense agony shooting down his arm. The pain is so intense, for a moment he passes out, but he is quickly revived by a sharp kick to his ribs…
His dislocated shoulder throbs in agony with every sluggish beat of his heart and it steals his breath away just to touch it, let alone move it. The broken arm is so swollen and numb that he can't even feel it, though.
Thank God for small mercies.
He can't move, can't bring his feet to cooperate, can't make his arms lift him up, can't even sit. His whole body burns in agony and yet it feels like he is floating on a rain cloud, drifting carelessly in the night sky, away from the cramped closet and death on a cold floor…
No! His eyes snap open. He can't give up, not yet.
He…he has to tell Kendall he's sorry.
I…I'm sorry, Kendall.
He's shivering in the hot, stuffy cage, a cold sweat dripping from his brow, stinging bruised and broken flesh.
The wall is closing in on him, the closet shrinking centimeter by tormenting centimeter, bringing him closer to the demon with emotionless red eyes.
He can't breathe, the air is so thick it won't go into his lungs. His gasps, panting harshly, hands curled tightly in fists over his hears to block out the screeching of the walls as they move in closer, crushing him slowly until there is nothing left.
This room used to be so much bigger, he panics as the ceiling inches closer to him. If he could move, he could almost reach his arm out and touch the smooth white plaster of the unfinished ceiling of what used to be his mother's closet.
It still smells like her.
James doesn't know how long he's been locked in the closet. At first he spent his time trying to quell his rising panic. His father usually only leaves him for a couple of hours, he tried reminding himself. Before long, though, he realized his father wasn't coming back. He was stuck here, forever. He started banging on the door, sobbing hysterically against the impenetrable barrier, begging for Kendall, for anyone to let him out.
Please Kendall, I'm so, so, sorry.
His strength quickly fled. He curled up on the floor and he knows, he knows it's been far too long. He's going to die here, he's going to…
Please god, I don't want to die.
He doesn't want to die in here, alone and unloved. He's just wants to tell Kendall he's sorry for disappointing him, he just wants to live. He can't be in here, he can't, he has to escape, he has to breathe and be alive and be walking in the bright sun, with the soft grass and first of the fall leaves sliding beneath his bare feet.
He'd even brave Minnesota's harshest blizzard if it meant he didn't have to be here anymore.
There are no more tears to cry, no strength left in his weak, tired limbs, so he lies on the floor, begging, whispering, over and over again for the door to please open, he'll do anything.
Please, just, let me go.
But it never does.
Two warm arms materialize out of the darkness and wrap around his trembling frame from behind. Long brown hair cascades over his shoulder and soft lips press a soothing kiss to the top of his head.
"Mama," he sighs contentedly, the pain in his chest easing away in her presence.
Smooth lips curve in small smile against the back of his neck.
"Mama, I've missed you so much," his voice breaks, a sob catching in his throat, all the pain and anguish of the last five years without her tightly laced in his words.
She doesn't say a single word. A hand leaves his waist and wraps around his fist still pressed to his ear. The screeching of the walls vanishes, the darkness brightens just enough for him to see two white arms wrapped around him, fingers interlaced. He feels the warmth and love spreading through him. There is a slight tingling in his spine, the agony of his broken body recedes like the tide.
She holds him, for a long time and he rests peacefully, the dark beady red eyes held at bay by her warmth and love.
But then suddenly she is gone, the arms vanish, her warmth disappears. "Please don't leave me," he pleads.
But it is too late. She is already gone.
James opens his eyes, not entirely sure when they slipped shut, or why he didn't have a say in whether or not they stayed open.
Beyond the haze of pain and thirst and exhaustion so deep, even his bones are sighing in fatigue, there is one thing he knows. Death is staring him in the face, still, two beady red eyes glaring in the darkness.
It had been two long days since anyone last saw James or his father.
Carlos wasn't really sure what was going on. No one liked to tell him anything, but he has a sneaking suspicion that his father thought James was dead. Either that, or James' father took off with him.
Carlos refuses to believe that. He refuses to believe that he's never going to see James again, that his energetic best friend is…gone.
He has to believe in something positive, even if it is just wishful thinking. So he tells Logan, when he sees him in class that morning, that Carlos trusts his father, that they will find James and he's gonna be just fine, like nothing ever happened.
Only Logan doesn't believe Carlos' childish lies.
They haven't seen Kendall in days either. Ever since James disappeared, the younger boy locked himself in his room, refusing to come to school or leave his house.
He hears the teachers whisper when they think he can't hear them. "Poor boys," he listens to them gossip, "just lost their friend."
But James isn't lost, he wants to tell them. He's fine, he's just waiting for them to find him.
By the second day, though, even Carlos' faith is starting to falter when the nurse pulls him and Logan out of class. "If you need to talk," the kind old nurse with grey hair softly says, "or if you feel like you need to go home, just let me know and we'll understand. I know this is tough for you boys, you just lost a friend…"
But Carlos doesn't let her finish. He snaps, like a twig under lead weight, hands balled into fists. "He's not gone!" he screams into the silent office. "He's not…" and suddenly he's crying the tears he's been holding back since he found out James was missing. Tears he never wanted to cry because James was fine, he was…fine.
He has to come back, he just has to.
Carlos can feel the tears dripping down his cheeks as he collapses to the bench along the wall, head buried in his hands. He doesn't understand why everyone keeps telling him that James is gone.
Why won't anybody believe that James is coming back?
He just wants everyone to go away. He wants the teachers to stop staring at him with sympathy. He wants Logan to look at him with something other than pain and sadness welling in his dark brown eyes. He wants Kendall to stop shutting himself away.
And he wants to do something reckless and stupid, with James encouraging him. The taller boy will laugh excitedly before joining Carlos on his new idea. It may end up being a stupid decision, and they may end up hurt, but they'll never regret doing it.
He just wants James to be here.
Nobody understands Carlos like James does. He can't go on without him. So he won't. He'll keep believing, until they find him.
Warm, comforting arms wrap around his trembling frame, and if it was anybody else, but Logan, Carlos would have shoved them off. But it is Logan, and there are tears streaming down his face too.
"He's not gone, Logan," he says between hitching breaths and gut wrenching sobs. "He can't be."
"I know, Carlos," Logan reassures, but Carlos can see the loss in the eyes. He can see that Logan doesn't believe his own words.
He's tired of arguing, tired of being the only one that thinks James isn't gone. So he lets Logan comfort him with false reassurances and he lets the other boy's tears soak through his shirt.
Carlos just feels numb at this point. He can't cry anymore, he can't feel, and he can't believe that Logan has given up already.
They're both excused from school early.
Logan doesn't want to be alone, though, and neither does Carlos, so they both head to Carlos' place.
After a few restless and uneasy moments alone together, they easily decide that Kendall shouldn't be alone either, so they take off for his house. Kendall may not want their help, but they're sure as hell gonna give it anyway.
The rain is finally starting to clear as they trek the short walk to the Knight house. It had been thundering and lightning, the rain pouring in thick bands ever since James' disappeared from Kendall's house.
Carlos takes that as a sign that something good is about to happen.
They're sitting in Kendall's room in complete silence. No one wants to talk, to share the dark thoughts dwelling in their minds.
For once, Logan doesn't feel like doing his homework. He's just sitting on Kendall's bed, staring at the blue stripes, trying to understand this situation logically and fit it into his perfectly ordered world.
"I have to face the facts. James isn't coming back," Logan quietly told him as they were walking to Kendall's house.
Carlos did not reply to him, because he doesn't believe Logan. He doesn't…
Kendall is sitting on the floor across from his bed, back against the wall. His eyes are red rimmed and the occasional tear slips from his puffy eyes.
And Carlos, well, he's sitting on the floor, back against the bed, sharing the occasional look with Logan. He glances worriedly at Kendall, unsure of what the other boy is thinking.
Carlos isn't sure he wants to know, though.
They have not said a single to word to each other, not one thought has passed any of their lips. For once, they don't feel like doing anything at all.
Carlos wants to say something, anything to dispel the tension that hangs in the air like dust particles over a factory. But every time he opens his mouth to reassure Kendall that Carlos believes James is still alive and his father will find him, he loses his courage and snaps his mouth shut.
It wouldn't help anyways.
Carlos feels eyes on his back, and he catches Logan staring at them. They share a look, but Carlos can't even begin to guess what Logan is thinking.
Carlos can't handle it anymore. This isn't Kendall or Logan. Kendall is never this upset, never this defeated, never this hopeless. And he knows Logan, he's just trying to hide how hurt and upset he is behind a curtain of logic. But it doesn't fool Carlos; he knows Logan still wants to believe that James is still out there.
Carlos suddenly angrily jumps to his feet. He can't handle all this negativity anymore. He can't be the only one to still have hope. "James is alive," he furiously states and glares at his two best friends in the room. "I know he is. He's just waiting for us to rescue him."
Carlos doesn't care how childish and naïve he sounds. He's panting after his tirade and he's so angry at his friends and himself for just giving up, for just sitting here and doing nothing, for not stopping this before things got out of hand even when they've know for a long time what's really been going on with James and his father.
They could have saved James, they could have… He falls to his knees and tries to hold back the tears in his eyes, but fails miserably. Before he knows it he's balling like a baby, and he realizes how embarrassing that is, but he doesn't care.
A soft hand is suddenly on his shoulder and he looks up into dark green eyes.
"Then lets go find him," Kendall states and Carlos' eyes light up. He nods and Kendall helps him to his feet, a silent look of understanding passing between them.
"Logan?" Kendall questions. Logan hesitantly nods. He doesn't know what Kendall is planning, but he's willing to go along with it.
Only Kendall doesn't get a chance to tell them his crazy plan.
Kendall's mother quietly knocks on the door and cautiously enters the room.
She's hesitant to say anything and that scares Carlos more than anything. "You're father just called, Carlos," she cautiously begins. Please don't let James be dead, he begs in his mind, please don't let us be too late. Kendall's breath hitches in fear and anticipation and he swears none of them are breathing.
"Mr. Diamond was in a terrible accident. He's gone boys. They just found his car because of the storm, but it seems the accident happened two days ago."
"And James?" Kendall hesitantly question.
"He wasn't in the car as far as the police can tell," she calmly responds, and there is a collective sigh of relief amongst the three boys, "but they still don't know where he is. The police are on their way to the Diamond house now to look for clues. I'm sorry, boys. I know how much you miss your friend."
Logan returns his gaze to the floor and nods tiredly. Carlos can feel the tears welling in his eyes again, but he still has hope. They hadn't found James, yet, but at least they hadn't found him dead yet either.
"Can we go to his house?" Kendall asks.
"I don't think that's a good idea, sweetie."
"I wanna," he starts and lets out a frustrated sigh, "I wanna be there if they find anything, even if...even if it is his body. Please," he begs and looks up at his mother, unshed tears glistening in his dark eyes.
"Okay," Mrs. Knight chokes out, but Carlos doesn't think this is such a good idea either.
She offers them a ride home, but Logan nervously shakes his head 'no' and Carlos finds, he wants to be there to. He wants to know. So he tags along.
And he thinks, maybe, this might be part of Kendall's plan.
The Diamond house is swarming with cops when they get there. Caution tape is spread across the lawn in a bright yellow warning to stay away. Paramedics are waiting outside the front door, stretcher ready, with anxious looks on their face.
A small crowd is already gathering and Carlos can see the local Channel 5 news team pulling up in their van. Carlos is pissed at that. How can they so easily exploit their pain like that? Just broadcast James' misery for the whole world to see.
It isn't fair.
"We found the boy," he faintly hears a cop say into his CB across the line. "He's alive, but he's badly injured and he's so delusional that he won't let anybody near him. See if you can't get a child psychologist down here."
Carlos' heart stops. James is alive.
James is alive!
The relief that floods through him makes him dizzy with excitement. James is alive.
He knew it.
The look on Kendall's face shows he's heard the news too, but he's not nearly as relieved as Carlos. The look on his face is one of heartache and pain and it finally settles in for Carlos.
James is injured, but how badly was the question. And where has James been these last two days? Why didn't he seek help sooner? Unless he couldn't, unless something was stopping him.
Carlos has the sudden feeling that Kendall knows something he doesn't.
"We have to go in there," Kendall says and Carlos doesn't know why they need to, but he trusts Kendall's judgement.
And, he realizes, he needs to see James. Hearing that James is alive and actually seeing it for himself are two completely different things, and he needs to see it.
"Yeah," Logan states and Carlos is momentarily surprised to hear him easily agree, "we do."
Logan nods to Kendall and Carlos isn't sure exactly what has passed between them.
"Thank you," Kendall whispers, though, and hugs Logan.
"Mama Knight, will you look at that," Logan is angrily shouting and suddenly causing a scene as he wildly and angrily points towards the News team. "I can't believe those bastards!" Logan yells and it draws Mama Knight's attention away from Kendall and Carlos.
As soon as her head is turned, Kendall takes off and Carlos follows.
Logan was a distraction, he realizes, as he sneaks past the police and into the back door.
He follows Kendall closely who seems to know where he is going. They manage to make it to the second floor of the Diamond house before they are caught.
"Where do you two boys think you are going?" a familiar voice asks and pulls both of them back by the collar of their shirt.
"Papi," Carlos guiltily mutters and looks down.
"We're just here to help," Kendall easily replies. "I can get James to come out," he begs and Carlos knows it's true.
His father sighs, his brows knitted in worry, and looks through the door Carlos and Kendall were about to go through. There is a young, blonde woman cop squatting near the closed closet door talking softly, though he can't make out her words.
His father looks distressed. A sudden pain twists in Carlos' gut and he almost doubles over from the sudden onslaught of intense agony tearing through him.
"James is in that closet, isn't he?" he suddenly gasps past the lump in his throat.
"You boys shouldn't be here," his father avoids the question. "This isn't something you should see."
Carlos knows what he needs to do. He put his helmet on, nods to Kendall and then suddenly he is dropping to the floor, limbs flailing.
"It hurts!" he screams. "Papi, help me!" he feels guilty for a split second as concern flits across his father's face before the man is kneeling next to him. The young blonde cop, confused by the commotion in the hallway, finds her way over to him as well, and drops to her knees.
Carlos hears her question what happened over the sounds of his screaming and from the corner of his eye he sees Kendall easily slip into the room.
After a view moments, his father notices the sudden absence of Kendall as well. The officer, realizing he's been duped, turns a stern eye towards his son.
"Carlos Juan Garcia, stop this instant."
Carlos immediately stops screaming and flailing, praying he gave Kendall enough time. He dashes to his feet and before his father can stop him, he ducks under the older man and rushes into the room.
The sight that greets him instantly stops him dead in his tracks, and for a second he swears even his body functions have stopped. His heart refuses to beat, his lungs refuse to take in air, and his legs refuse to take him further into the room.
Carlos feels his father walk next to him and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Air rushes into his lungs, the gentle rhythm of his heart returns, but his legs feel like jello still.
The only thing steadying him is the hand on his shoulder.
He finally gets to see James and it breaks his heart. James is alive. He's not missing or gone or lost, he's right there, under their damn noses the entire time, but fuck it all, he's alive and that's all that matters.
James is definitely not fine though. The younger boy is naked from the waist up, his dirty tan skin is covered in blood and bruises. There's something not quite right with his left arm; it hangs oddly and his arm is swollen and bruised and barely looks like an arm at all.
Kendall is sitting in the dark closet, back against the wall and James is curled along his side, head resting on the blonde's shoulder and right fist tangled in the front of his shirt.
The part that kills Carlos on the inside, like a parasite eating away at the layers of his heart, is that James is sobbing hysterically, the most pathetic sobs he has ever heard any creature make.
There are tears rolling down Kendall's cheeks too, though his eyes are shut, and he is whispering softly, comforting words, over and over again to the traumatized teen sobbing in his arms.
Carlos doesn't hesitate after that. His feet bring him as quickly as he can over to the pair sitting on the floor. He settles on the other side of James, wraps his arm gently around the cold injured body of his friend and comforts the hysterical boy as best as he can.
He doesn't know when Logan shows up, but suddenly he's there too. Logan joins them in the closet and settles on the floor, hands resting lightly on James top leg.
His father approaches them cautiously, eyes wide in surprise, unsure of how, exactly, they were able to get so close to a very delusional and injured James so quickly.
Carlos loved his father dearly. The older man has been his hero since the day he was born and delivered Carlos on the kitchen floor on Christmas Eve. But he knew this was one situation his father could not help in.
He nods to Logan who moves out of the way so Carlos can kick the door shut. The other boy then leans against the door, blocking the officer from getting in.
There's not much they can do for James, either. The younger boy is broken in body and spirit and Carlos doesn't even want to think about how long James was trapped in this dusty old closet, injured and alone, with nothing, but the spiders to keep him company.
It smells in here, like body odor, blood, and a few other things Carlos doesn't even want to mention, or think about. It makes his stomach churn and it is an effort to keep the bile from rising up his throat.
But this is James' hell, and probably has been for a lot longer than the last two days. Carlos is willing to brave anything for James, even a thirty foot drop into ice cold water in the middle of a Minnesota winter. (Which he promised his mother he would never do again.)
So he stays, arms gently draped around the miserable, shivering form of his best friend, as the younger boy cries for the pain he's endured and the father that never loved him.