A/N. I found a pretty sweet way to write/update quicker, so hopefully I'll be able to get on a sort of schedule with this story and my other stories. Thanks so much to everyone who has read and reviewed this story, it means more than I could ever say to have your support. Here's chapter seven, which is dedicated to Baxxie because she loves Carlos and angst and Carlosangst. Some day I will beat up on Carlos a little for you, but quite honestly, he is the one I have the most trouble hurting. He's just too adorable! In the meantime, emotional angst is pretty easy, so I hope you like this! I don't own anything,
When Carlos walked into Logan's hospital room the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the pamphlets about organ donation stuffed inside the plastic trash can. He swallowed back a wave of nausea and tried to keep his face blank. "Hi," he whispered, his voice cracking.
Kendall noticed right away. "It was Doctor Rodgers, Carlos." he said firmly. "We didn't even look at them, I promise."
Carlos nodded, the lump in his throat too big to speak at first. He took a deep breath and wiped at his eyes with a shaking hand. "So-" he began.
"No change," Kendall interrupted. "No change for the better, but no change for the worse either."
Katie who had come with Carlos, smiled in appreciation at the stretch for optimism. She walked up to Logan's side and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Hey, big brother." she whispered. "It'd be great if you could wake up for us now." She took his hand and waited.
Carlos waited too. He went back and forth between studying Logan and Katie intently, searching both of their faces for a reaction. Logan's face was blank and Katie's was hopefully. They both stayed that way. Carlos had to envy Katie for her ten-year-old innocence that held tightly to the belief that Logan would eventually wake up.
"Where's James?" Kendall asked after a short silence that was too uncomfortable for all of them.
"Home," Carlos mumbled in answer. "Sick."
Concern clouded Mrs. Knight's already tired features. "Is he okay?" she asked quietly.
He nodded. "He'll be fine in a couple of days," he said, repeating what Mrs. Diamond had told him just an hour ago. "He has that stomach thing that's been going around." He recalled how James had thrown up the night before.
"Poor James." Katie murmured half-heartedly. Carlos couldn't blame her. The stomach virus would last no longer than twenty-four hours plus a day it two to recover from being so sick. Today marked the sixth day of Logan's coma.
"He's really upset that he can't be here." Carlos added, feeling a little sorry for James. He remembered how awful he had looked the night before, especially when he realized that he had left without saying goodbye to Logan. Carlos couldn't imagine how he was feeling now. "So," he said, making an effort to lighten the atmosphere. He paused, struggling to go on. "So, Logan," Why couldn't he just wake up? "Are you having the best dream ever or what?"
Katie and Mrs. Knight and Kendall all gave him strange looks, but Carlos ignored them. He was tired of talking to Logan jut to beg him to wake up. He was ready for a new strategy. "I had a dream a couple weeks ago," he went on. "It was the best dream I had ever had. Everything was really beautiful and good. There were even all the corn dogs you could eat! And I was so so so happy, Logan." Carlos' left leg was bouncing up and down by itself even when he tried to steady it. "Then I realized that even though it was really cool and it felt like I had everything I wanted, it wasn't real. The happiness wasn't real. I couldn't figure it out at first, and then I knew."
No one else was even trying to speak. They were all listening intently to every word he had to say. Carlos prayed that Logan was listening too. "I wasn't really happy because I didn't have you guys. I didn't have you or James or Kendall or any of our families. I was all by myself." He was crying. Carlos slowly became aware of the tears that were steadily making their way down his face. He heard someone sniff behind him, but he couldn't tell who it was and he didn't turn around to find out. He kept his eyes locked on Logan. "And then it sucked, Logie. It sucked big time because I was all alone. Everything I once thought had made me happy. . . it didn't do anything for me, not really. I was so lonely." Carlos brushed away the falling tears. "Please, Logan!" he begged. "I don't care if you're having a millionaire doctor dream. I don't care how happy you are right now, it's not going to last! You're going to get bored and lonely. You have to snap out of it and wake up before that actually happens, Logan!"
"Carlos," Mrs. Knight said gently. She reached out slowly for him. "Sweetie, take a deep breath and calm down a little."
It was too late though. Carlos was on the very edge, his sanity slipping away like water through his hands. He was exhausted and frustrated and scared and- and angry. He yanked away from Mrs. Knight. "What was he thinking?" he demanded as the years continued to come relentlessly. "Why was he all by himself and why was he late and why wasn't his cell phone. . . charged."
"Carlos?"
Kendall was watching him more intently than he had been all week long. But Carlos hardly heard him. Everything came rushing back. Hearing Logan and following him to where his body had been dumped. Listening to everything Logan had told him and trying to process the impossible. If it had worked before, why not again? Carlos shut his eyes so tightly that he saw little black dot. "Logan," he whispered. "Are you there? Can you hear me?" He could tell that he was scaring everyone. One minute he had been rambling about his dream, and now here he was, falling apart, talking to Logan in a way no one else had tried yet. "Logan." he tried again. "Where. . . are you?"
There was a disconnect that had Carlos very shaken. It wasn't working. His last hope and last resort. . . it wasn't working. Nothing was working.
"Carlos, what are you doing?"
He looked up to find everyone still staring in disbelief. Immediately, he tried to think of how he could explain himself. But why would they believe anything he had to say? Especially when they were still concerned about his concussion. Carlos had a sinking feeling that if he told them the truth, it would only result in more negativity. He needed Logan here and conscious so he could back him up. Would Logan remember? That thought hadn't crossed Carlos' mind until now. It brought him up short and before he knew it, he was wondering if everything had really happened. Had he really heard Logan? Or had he just stumbled upon him like everyone apparently thought? What was the truth? Carlos wasn't sure of anything anymore.
"Carlos, are you okay?" Mrs. Knight sounded very worried about him, but Carlos still couldn't answer right away. He opened his mouth and tried to form words, but nothing came out. It was like he was losing function of all his body. First his brain, now his mouth, What was next?
"Carlos, answer me, please!"
Kendall's voice, laced with fear, was what snapped Carlos out of his thoughts. He looked up at everyone and felt a rush of guilt flood him when he saw how frightened they all were. They were frightened for him. "I'm okay," he choked out. "Sorry."
The tension that had been rising in Kendall, was suddenly drained away and he slumped back down in his chair. "What-" he began, obviously having trouble coming up with the correct question. "Why-"
"I was just thinking," Carlos rushed to explain. "I was thinking of another way to try and talk to Logan. I was thinking of something else I could say to him because nothing else has been working. I'm sorry I scared all of you."
Kendall looked like he wanted to ask another question, but ultimately, he decided against it. "Don't do that again," he begged quietly. "You scared me. You scared all of us. We thought that- I mean, I thought that something was really wrong with you."
Carlos felt terrible. He only had to look at Mrs. Knight and Katie to know that they had felt the same way as Kendall. They didn't need something else to go wrong right now. They needed something to go right. Before he could apologize again, the door opened and Luke walked in. Carlos still found in strange to see his dad's best officer dressed in plain ever day clothes. Even when he came over for dinner, it would usually be straight from the station and he'd be in his uniform. In a plain t-shirt and jeans, he didn't look as nearly intimidating and powerful, and for some childish reason, this upset Carlos. He wanted, needed, all the strength they could get.
"Any change?" Luke asked, even though all he needed to do was look at them for his answer.
"None since yesterday," Mrs. Knight answered quietly. She saw the questioning look in Luke's eyes and forced herself to explain. "They've been doing brain scans every day. . . just to monitor him. They're concerned about the lack of activity. And yesterday- Yesterday, there even more swelling than before."
Carlos watched Luke carefully for his reaction. He flinched when he saw the color drain from his face. He remembered his dad having the same reaction last night when he told him after he got home from the hospital. All the bravest of people were scared over what was happening and that scared Carlos even more. He felt Luke's hand on his shoulder and heard him speak in a tone that had forced steadiness in it. "Where's James?"
He was changing the subject, thank goodness. Carlos relaxed. He could handle this conversation. "He's home sick." Luke nodded and sat down next to Carlos. So much for that conversation. Carlos couldn't decide what was worse, the complete silence, talking to Logan and receiving no response, or taking about Logan's grave condition. Unfortunately, those seemed to be the only ones that lasted.
"My dad will be coming by in a little while and probably James' dad too." Carlos said after the silence stretched out too long. He sighed when the only answer he received were silent nods from everyone in the room.
Katie was
lightly tracing her finger down Logan's arm, staring at him intently. "He's ticklish, remember?" she asked them. "I was thinking that maybe we could wake him up this way." Carlos had to stifle the urge to tell Katie that Logan was the most ticklish near his rib cage. For one thing, she already knew, for another, his ribs were still to fragile. So he was silent along with everyone else as they watched Katie try to tickle Logan into waking up.
"It's hard to do when he's so hurt," she said, sighing in frustration. "I don't know what else to do though." Desperate, she very gently brushed Logan's side, waiting for an acknowledgment of either pain or even a small tickle.
Carlos wondered how aware Logan was. Could he hear them? Could he feel anything? Was he trying to wake up or to at least respond to them? Was he scared or frustrated? What was he thinking? Was he thinking at all? Carlos gasped as that last horrible though crossed through his mind. When the others glances at him, he simply shook his head. They let him go, too weary to press the matter.
"Logan, we really need you to wake up, bro." Kendall said softly, his voice a calm influence on Carlos' shattered nerves. "We're worried about you and we miss you. We miss you so much, Logan."
"We do." Carlos added because they had all run out of anything new to say. "We miss talking to you and having you talk back. We miss hanging out with you and doing everything with you. It's almost like that time when we were ten and you went on that business trip to Florida with your dad. We didn't see you for a week and a half and it was so boring without you. This is a lot worse though."
"We need you, Logan." Kendall sighed. "More than you could possibly know. I have no idea what we're suppose to do if-" The tears were starting up again. "If we lose you."
Carlos didn't understand. For the past six days now, they had sat by Logan's bedside all in tears, begging him to wake up or to at least give them some sign that he could hear them. If he was aware of them at all, then surely he must have found some way to tell them this. So why were things this way? Was it because he really wasn't aware of them at all? Carlos wanted to scream at Logan and shake him mercilessly until he woke. He was so mad at him for being so stupid and careless in the first place. He was mad at him for driving to the college all by himself. He was mad at him for getting a flat tire and running late and letting his cell phone die. He was furious at him for stopping to help the men who had hurt him. And most of all, Carlos was furious at himself for being mad at his best friend who was maybe dying.
"I'm going to go take a walk," he said quietly. "I won't go far, don't worry. I just- I need to be alone for a little while." Reluctantly, they let him go. Carlos breathed a small sigh of relief when he closed the door behind him. He wanted to be with Logan, he really did. But the atmosphere was far too tense and heavy for him to handle for very long. If he didn't get out to be by himself, then he was sure he would explode.
He walked quietly down the halls of the ICU. He remembered when they were twelve and how Logan had told him that ICU stood for Intensive Care Unit. It seemed like such a long time ago now. Another lifetime ago when they were all happy and healthy and safe. He was so stuck in the present that those memories had already faded away to an alarming degree.
Carlos hadn't gone very far when the tears started up yet again. As he rounded a corner, he reached up to stubbornly brush the persistent tears away, and promptly ran into someone. Whoever it was, they were considerably larger and stronger and in a better frame of mind than Carlos, because though the force of the collision was enough to knock him off his feet, he felt someone grab his arm and hold him steady. "T-thanks-" he started to stammer out.
"Carlos? What's wrong, son?"
And just like that, Carlos found himself crying hard into his father's chest. He had cried plenty of times in the past week, but this attack was by far the worst. His legs went out from under him and he was suddenly sitting on the floor and letting his father hold him and whisper words of comfort to him like he was six instead of sixteen.
"Carlos?"
His tears were scaring his dad, Carlos could tell. He tried valiantly to slow down and breathe enough so he could tell his dad that Logan was still with them, but it was of no use. He was far past the point of regaining his control anytime soon. So he cried. He cried hard and long, completely ignorant to the dozens of doctors and nurses that stopped by to see if everything was okay. Everything he had managed to hold in for six days had finally risen to the surface and he had no hope of suppressing it. He let himself cry.
Eventually, he did run dry of tears, at least for the time being. He knew there would be more to come later now, but at the moment, Carlos just felt completely drained. He laid limp in his father's arms, listening to the endless words of comfort.
"I'm mad at Logan," he heard himself say. His father didn't really say anything. He simply hummed in acknowledgement and continued to rub Carlos' back in a steady motion. "I'm mad at Logan," Carlos repeated, louder this time. "How could he have been so stupid? What was he thinking?"
His father stopped rubbing his back then and pulled away to look carefully at him. "What do you mean?" he asked.
Carlos poured out the whole story. Everything. He didn't care how strange it sounded, he couldn't stop if he tried. He watched as shock and disbelief filled his dad's eyes, but he continued as if he was completely blind instead of half deaf. And he ended with, "If you don't believe me, then that's your choice. I don't understand how or why it happened, but I do know that Logan probably wouldn't be alive if it didn't happen. Until Logan wakes up and helps me explain, that's all I can tell you right now. It's the truth though, really." Complete silence. Carlos sighed and let his head fall back to rest against the wall. He was too tired to argue. "I don't care if you don't believe me." he said, trying to sound final about it.
His dad brought him close again and whispered in his good ear. "I believe you, Carlos. Every single word. I promise."
Carlos stared up at him, searching for hesitation in his eyes and finding none. "You believe me," he whispered. "How?"
"I don't know," his dad admitted with a helpless shrug. "But I do."
It felt like Carlos could almost breathe again. The weight on his shoulders was considerably lighter now that his secret was out. "I'm scared," he said, resting his head on his dad's shoulder. "I tried to do it again. I tried to find Logan again and talk to him. I wanted to tell him to come back. But- but I couldn't find him, Dad."
"Shhhh," his dad started rubbing his back again. "I don't know, Carlos. I don't know what happened to you two, or why it happened. And I don't know what's going to happen to us now. Maybe you will find Logan. Maybe you just need to give him some time."
"Time?" Carlos repeated, his voice cracking. "Dad, Doctor Rodgers was in there last night talking about taking Logan off the oxygen machine. He was telling Mrs. Knight that the swelling in Logan's brain is getting worse. And today Doctor Rodgers gave them pamphlets about organ donation. Time? I don't know, Dad. We have all the time in the world, but I don't think Logan has much time left at all."
A/N. I won't be back until after Sunday, so Happy Easter, guys! Love you all!
