Author's Note: Hello, my dear readers. My sincerest apologies. I had hoped to get this up last week, but my boss and school are working overtime to keep me busy. Please accept this long chapter, filled with "bromantic" moments with a touch of angst, as my peace offering.

Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush and I am not profiting from writing this story.

Chapter 7 - When Fading Slowly, Friends Give You Strength

The snowfall picked up once again, the number of snowflakes falling doubling in quantity and speed. Logan noticed this as he watched the white particles touch his hand. However, he was unable to process what all that meant. The only thing occupying his mind was the blood coating his hand; he was amazed at the fact the snow didn't wash it away. As if to make sure he was correct, to ensure that he truly was coughing blood, he touched the side of his mouth. He wasn't surprised to feel a small trail of the blood at the corner of his lips. He quickly wiped the blood away as he allowed it's meaning to finally sink in.

Coughing blood after blunt trauma to his chest only meant one thing - he had been poorly mistaken. His ribs were not bruised; they were broken. Remembering the pain he felt at the right side of his chest when he coughed, he rose his right arm. He could feel the fragile muscles pull at the action and he could only raise it so far before the level of pain became too much. Nevertheless, when he was satisfied by the height of his arm, he used his left hand to gently assess the damage done to his ribs. Counting the times he felt sunken skin instead of the firmness of bone in his ribcage, Logan concluded he had fractured at least four ribs on his right side. However, broken ribs were not normally that serious; the pain being the worse thing he would have to deal and even that was tolerable unless he coughed. It was the troubling fact of what broken ribs and coughing blood meant when combined that caused him to worry.

One of his broken ribs had punctured his lung, most likely causing his right lung to collapse. He cursed himself for not realizing the signs and symptoms of the serious condition, however, if he were honest, he would admit the fact that he didn't feel any different. Yea, the coughing of blood was not normal, but other than that, he didn't have the normal chest pain, trouble breathing, or increased heart rate usually associated with a punctured lung. Not that he was asking to feel those symptoms. On closer inspection, though, he did notice some pain on the right of his chest when he took a deep breath and he did realize his breathing was shallow on that side.

There isn't much for me to do, Logan thought, understanding that what he needed more than anything was a doctor. Just great.

He had thought the worse thing he had to worry about was the piece of glass in his side, expecting to be on the look out for signs of the worsening bleeding or feeling weak due to prolonged blood loss. But, this was different, this was serious. The risk of going into respiratory distress from the injured lung was not just possible, it was probable. He would have to steady his breathing, keep it as even and unlabored as possible as not to overexert the damaged lung. He would have to be careful every time he coughed or expelled a deep breath, both of which could cause him to have difficulty breathing. It seemed to be a daunting task just thinking about all he had to do to make sure he didn't get worse.

Logan contemplated telling his friends how serious his condition had become, hoping they would provide him with extra sets of eyes when it came to watching his fractured ribs and fragile lungs. He doubted he'd be able to keep this injury a secret much longer anyway. He knew he would need their help. Their favorite saying came to mind at the admission, 'One is good, but four is better'. It would be better to have his three best friends look out for him, forcing him to acknowledge when he was pushing himself too far. The only question that remained was how he was going to tell them the truth. He knew they were going to be angry at him for keeping such a serious secret, but he would deal with their disappointment. He just needed his friends.

But, first, I have to deal with this cut on my side, Logan thought, looking down at his saturated shirt, knowing that blood caused it to stick to his skin.

Retreating to a more secluded area in the trees, away from the smoking car with the first aid kit, Logan began the task of tackling his own injury. He lifted up his shirt, exposing his torn skin to the cold air, the breeze harsh to the sensitive area. Realizing that he would have to clean the cut fast before his absence worried the others, Logan quickly grabbed the bottle of sterile water and poured the contents on the wound. He was grateful it wasn't painful, just an uncomfortable sensation as the liquid touched the sore skin. The disturbing fact was watching the pink tinged fluid fall from his side and stain the snow red, knowing that it was his blood that he saw on the ground. He looked down at his side, the foreign glass looking out place between his skin. It amazed him how the glass kept the wound from bleeding. While blood still trickled around the edge of the jagged object, it did not pool like it should, the glass effectively playing the role as stopper to prevent him from bleeding out. Logan was grateful for that. He had enough on his plate than to worry about blood loss.

After letting the water clean out the wound a little longer, he grabbed the gauze and pressed it to his side. That was when the pain exploded through his side. He had only meant to place the piece of fabric to start dressing the cut; he had not been prepared for the unbelievable wave of agony that came with it. He was able to stifle his cry, stuffing the excess fabric into his mouth. However, he was unable to stop the dizziness and the weakness he felt overcome him. His knees weakened and he threatened to sink to the ground. It took the last bit of strength he had not to pulled be pulled into the darkness. He had to be stay strong, he had to fight through the pain. His friends needed him.

It was that thought that kept Logan from dropping to the snow like a sack of potatoes. His breaths coming in quick pants of air, beads of sweat forming even in the cold temperatures, he continued to tend his wound. Gauze after gauze, he applied them to the wound until the slow trickle of blood had stopped and he realized that there wasn't much more he could do. He used the last remaining drops of sterile water to wet a piece of clothe. He pressed it firmly to his side and then grabbed another dry one to place on top of the wet one. Logan quickly freed his hand from the tree holding himself up to grab the large medical tape and tore a long piece with his teeth. Keeping the gauze as close to his side as possible, he pressed the tape to his skin, careful not to move the piece of glass out of space. He continued the process until his whole left side was a mass of tape, so thick that it impeded any movement in that direction, but not too much so that it would be detectable underneath his shirt and alarm his friends. He still hadn't decided on whether to tell his friends about the cut on his side as well.

Logan breathed a deep sigh, relieved that he had been able to at least complete that task. While it took a lot out of him, he was glad to have done it.

"One less thing to worry about," Logan muttered under his breath as he put all the supplies back into his first aid kit.

"What's one less thing to worry about?"

Logan was startled to see Kendall standing a few feet behind him and he felt his heart stop in fear.

Kendall had been patiently waiting with Carlos and James, absentmindedly paying attention to the conversation his two friends were having while trying to come up with a plan to get them home safely. He would respond to their comments here and there, his heart pulling when he heard the mention of Jo, but he kept his mind concentrated solely on figuring out a plan. It scared him how a plan wasn't readily available; he had always been able to think of things on the top of his head. A problem arose and Kendall came up with the solution in a matter of minutes. However, this was not one of those times. This time, his mind saw the problem, understood that a solution needed to be thought up, but his mind remained blank on what that solution might be. There was no doubt the shock of the whole experience was still affecting him, clouding his mind and preventing him from thinking clearly.

He still couldn't erase the images of the car crash from his mind, it seemed to replay every time he closed his eyes. Without trying, he would see his three friends' still and lifeless bodies and the feeling of grief and sadness would threaten to slowly overcome him. It would paralyze him, making it virtually impossible to think of a way out of this horrible situation. And the pressure - the pressure of knowing that his friends' survival depended on him and his plan - was suffocating. Knowing that if he said the wrong thing and took them the wrong way, he could cause his friends more harm than good. He didn't think he could swallow all of that responsibility on his own. He needed the "Big Time Brain" to help him.

It was then that Kendall realized Logan's prolonged absence from the rest of the group. He doubted that it took that long to gather the few items they were able to salvage from the car. He leaned over in his spot, hoping to see Logan on the other side of the burning metal impeding his line of vision, but he couldn't make out any movement on the other side. A feeling of dread slowly washed over him at not seeing Logan for such a long period of time, fearing that something serious might have happened. He remembered the terrible cough and quickly rose to his feet. Kendall stopped midway when the movement pulled at the sore muscles in his injured shoulder, but he continued soon after, pushing on until he stood straight.

He had muttered a quick "I'll be back" to Carlos and James to answer their puzzling looks and followed the path he saw Logan take minutes ago. He had reached the pile of their forgotten stuff, but there was no Logan in sight. He looked from side to side hoping it was just his imagination, that he was just overreacting. But when minutes passed and there was still no sign of Logan, the feeling of dread quickly turned to fear. Countless horrific thoughts came to mind of an unconscious Logan lying forgotten in the snow. He had to find Logan. He had prepared to call out for him in panic when he noticed a figure in the bushes yards away. Kendall prayed it was Logan, even though he was puzzled at the reason why Logan would be so far away from their stuff. He quickened his pace toward the trees and his heart rose in elation at the sight of his friend's raven hair. He opened his mouth to express his relief, but quickly shut it when he noticed the open first aid kit beside Logan.

Why did Logan need the first aid kit? He was fine. He only had bruised ribs and they didn't require much tending. So there was no reason for Logan to need first aid - unless he was hiding something, which knowing Logan could very much be true.

"Logan…"

"Kendall! How - how long have you been standing there?" Logan asked, his hand instinctively grabbing his bandaged side, fearful Kendall had witnessed him treating his cut.

"You were taking forever so I thought maybe you needed help getting our stuff together. But, you didn't answer my question; what's one less thing to worry about? And what are you doing over here? All our stuff are over there by the car," Kendall questioned, easily detecting Logan's defensive behavior and already on alert for something suspicious.

"Kendall, uhhh, you should be resting," Logan said, his voice shaky and his head looking from side to side, both clear signs that he was hiding something.

"It's my shoulder, Logan. It's not like I need to be sitting to rest my shoulder," Kendall replied, eyeing his friend suspiciously. "Now, answer my question, Logan."

"I had to pee, alright!" Logan answered, thankful he had thought of the lie so quickly off the top of his head.

"Oh," Kendall said, sheepily. "Well, why didn't you just say that?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know I had to tell you every intimate detail of what I do, Kendall," Logan answered, sarcastically.

"Logan, that's not what I meant. I was just worried when I saw you away from our stuff and hidden all by yourself with the first aid kit. Wait, why do you have kit with you?"

"Really, Kendall? It was an emergency! I couldn't hold it and I forgot the kit was in my hand. Any other questions?" Logan lied again with ease.

"Yea," Kendall replied. "You need any help?"

"I thought, you'd never ask. Yea, you're help would be great but no lifting with that shoulder buddy," Logan said, all anger at Kendall's session of twenty one questions gone. With that, they returned to area near the car, whose fire was slowly descending, and made their way to their belongings. "You and Carlos did I great job. You guys got a lot of important stuff out of the car. A lot of stuff we'll probably need to get home safely."

"I think the only thing Carlos is happy about getting out of that car was the cooler. He's been eyeing them every now and then," Kendall replied, settling down near the pile.

"Oh no, we better head back quick before it's all gone," Logan joked, even though in he knew it was very realistic possibility when dealing with Carlos and corndogs. Seeing Kendall's struggle with one of the larger suitcases, Logan reached out and helped him with the zipper. He tried not to notice the hint of annoyance Kendall displayed from the help.

"So, what are we going to need?"

"We're going to need to keep some blankets, maybe some of those ski clothes that we took with us, and any other clothes we can layer. Here, use this duffle bag. We'll put all the essential in this one bag that we can carry. We'll just keep all the other stuff neatly hidden until the help arrives to get us," Logan replied, his mind working to quickly figure out what to do next. He was glad Kendall was here to help him, seeing Kendall reminded him of all the important reasons for him to stay focused on getting his friends home safely.

Kendall quickly nodded his head in acknowledgement and quickly began looking through the clothes, choosing which to keep behind and which to take with them. Together they worked in silence each lost in their own thoughts. For Logan, it was dealing with the daunting task of telling Kendall just about the serious nature of his rib injury. It pained him to keep the wound on his side a secret and lie about what he was doing with the first aid kit, but he knew the level of worry would be worse once they found out the whole truth. In Kendall's head, the pressure of finding a way home continued to plague his thoughts, worrisome thoughts about his friends well being that threatened to consume him. Thus, they continued without saying a word to the other, each finding solace in the silence.

"Yes!" Logan yelled, startling Kendall out of his thoughts.

"What?!"

"I found my survival kit. I had packed it on a whim, just in case Carlos got lost on a ski trail or something like last time, and I totally forgot I packed. But, I found it! Oh, this is great," Logan said, happily, like a child on Christmas morning.

Kendall could only stare at him in amazement at the look of joy on Logan's face for a little box. "Really?"

"Yes, really. There's a compass, flashlight, flare gun, even a how to survive in the wilderness guide. These are all the stuff we'll need to get through this," Logan explained, glad when he saw his look of happiness mirrored on Kendall's face.

"This is great!" Kendall exclaimed, as he realized he had heard the first bit of good luck he had heard all day. "Wow, Logan, you never cease to amaze me. You really thought about everything."

"Not everything. Believe me, I would have never thought this would happen," Logan replied somberly, the mood changing instantly with that statement.

"I know, buddy. But we're okay. We made it. We survived everything that this crazy storm threw at us. Might not have been unscathed," Kendall said, as he looked toward the deserted car, knowing that James and Carlos were on the other side safe and sound. "But we survived."

Just the thought brought back a wave of emotions that Kendall had not realized he had left bottled in. The clothes in his hand forgotten, he became lost in the sea of his own thoughts, not realizing they were said aloud, until they left his mouth.

"I still can't believe it, you know? I mean, there was so many times we could have all died - from the crash, from the explosion, and yet, here we all are. I mean, yes, we still have to worry about Carlos's concussion, and we have to make sure that James's leg doesn't get infected, and even I have to look out for my stupid shoulder, but we're all alive and at least you are okay. Just bruised ribs, which I can tell hurts like hell, but you're okay. I have to admit I'm glad at that fact, I don't know what I would do if you were injured too."

Logan just sat listening to Kendall's words, shocked by his display of raw emotion. At his admission that he was glad that Logan had escaped serous injury, Logan felt a pang of guilty at the secret he had been keeping from his friends. He could tell that Kendall found comfort in that fact that Logan was not in harm's way and he began to doubt whether or not he should go ahead with his previous plan of alerting his friends of his rib injury. He didn't even know how to respond, he doubted he could come up with the words that would be able to deal with Kendall's pain. Fortunately, Kendall was not finished revealing his thoughts.

"I keep trying to think of a way to get us home, trying so hard to figure out a plan, but my mind keeps drawing up a blank. There is so much at stake, I have to make sure I make the right decision. The wrong choice and I could put you guys in danger. That's too much pressure, and uhhh - I don't think I can do it on my own."

"You don't have to do it on your own, Kendall. I'm here to help and so are James and Carlos. We'll figure out something, but you don't have to do this alone. Remember, 'One is good, but four is better," Logan replied with a smile, happy when he saw that smile spread to Kendall's face.

"Well, we should hurry through these stuff and see what's important for us to use so we could head back to the guys," Kendall said, glad that he was able to get those words off his chest. "James is waiting impatiently for another one of those make shift ice packs you made."

"He does know it's just snow, right?"

"He knows, but he swears it's only right if you make it," Kendall answered.

"James," both Kendall and Logan said at the same time under their breath, knowing that there was no way of understanding the inner workings of James Diamond's mind. They chuckled at the coincidence.

The quick expulsion of air irritated Logan's injured lung and before he had a chance to control it, he was overcome with another coughing fit. At the harsh sounds, Kendall dropped the clothes he was searching through and made his way to his friend.

"Logan!" Kendall yelled as he sat beside him, supporting him as his body was assaulted by the racking coughs. "Logan, what's wrong?"

Logan cringed at the sound of concern and worry that had filled Kendall's voice, hating the fact that the concern was directed toward him. He tried to fight through the cough, hoping to suppress the urge long enough to answer Kendall and stop the fear filled eyes that stared back at him. However, the cough had other things in mind, paralyzing him. He thought he would collapse in the snow from the force and he felt the taste of blood in his mouth. He used all his strength to swallow the blood down, his stomach turning at the metallic taste that assaulted his taste buds. He couldn't risk Kendall finding out just how serious he was truly injured.

Fortunately, as the minutes passed he was able to contain the cough to the point where he was able to respond to his terrified friend.

"I-I'm o-kay... It's just a little cough," Logan choked out, hoping that his words would be able to quell the fear that was obviously taking over Kendall. But, Kendall was way too smart to listen to that.

"You're lying."

"K-Kendall..."

"I can see the look of pain all over your face, Logan. Something is wrong! What aren't you telling me?"

"Fine! It's my ribs, alright?" Logan replied, annoyed. He had changed his mind about revealing the true nature of his injuries after Kendall shared the thoughts going through his mind. He doubted he had the heart to tell Kendall just how wrong he was and take away the last bit of hope he had in getting them home. Kendall needed a clear mind, free from worry and fixed on getting home. He knew that wouldn't happen if Logan told him how critical he was with punctured lung and the risk of suffocating. So, he concluded that he would keep the truth to himself, in order to make sure that a full proof plan was made. He had not intended on letting Kendall know about the rib injury, and would have much rather kept with his newfound plan, but Kendall's persistence got the best of him and he was forced to reveal what he didn't want to.

"What about your ribs?" Kendall questioned, eyeing Logan suspiciously.

"I underestimated them," Logan whispered, under his breath. "They're not bruised. A few of them are broken."

"What?"

"When my chest hit the steering wheel, I didn't bruise my ribs. I hit it so hard, that I broke a few of my ribs. That's why it hurts so much when I cough."

"Logan, why didn't you tell me before?"

"Honestly, I didn't know until after I started coughing and realized the pain I was getting on my right side."

"So, you're seriously hurt, too?" The lost look returned on Kendall's face, and Logan knew at that moment what he had to do.

"No. No, I can handle the ribs and I can handle the pain. You don't have to worry about," Logan replied, understanding that he couldn't reveal the more serious undertones associated with broken ribs. He couldn't let Kendall know about his damaged lung and definitely couldn't let him find out about the cut on his side. The look of hurt and the lost expression on Kendall's face when he admitted the broken ribs took the words right out of his mouth. He had told him about the broken ribs, he didn't need to know about everything else.

"Logan, are you sure?" Kendall asked, hoping that he was telling the truth but fearing that he would withhold the truth once again. Looking straight in his eyes, he hoped to convey to Logan just how much he needed to know the truth. But to Logan, all he saw was how much the truth would hurt Kendall.

"Yes, Kendall, I'm sure. It only hurts when I cough anyway. I'm okay," Logan lied, glad to see the sigh of relief Kendall expelled at his words, proof that he believed them to be true, but hating himself for how he was able to lie so easily. Before Kendall could say anything else or question him further, he quickly continued. "So, we should probably just finish looking through the stuff and come up with a way to get home - together."

"Alright, but, this changes some things. You can't carry anything too heavy; I don't want you to aggravate your ribs," Kendall said. He quickly dismissed Logan's attempts at trying to downplay his rib injury. "Look, I might not be a doctor, Loges, but I've seen a couple of rib injuries during hockey and I know they hurt like hell. The last thing you need is to carry a heavy bag and mess up your ribs even more."

Logan knew that Kendall was right, but he didn't want to seem too weak by carrying less than him. However, he thought it best not to argue, especially with Kendall who could be stubborn at times, and begrudgingly nodded his head in acceptance. "Fine," he muttered, returning his attention to stuffing the duffel bag.

"Good," Kendall replied with a smile. "Looks like we've got the essentials. We can pretty much leave the rest until - oh, wait, I think we forgot a bag over in the trees."

Standing, he made his way over to the trees. However, what he thought was a piece of luggage, turned out to be just a big boulder. The fast falling snow was beginning to interfere with his vision. He turned to tell Logan that he was mistaken, when something beyond the tree caught his eyes. Stepping forward slightly, he could make out the road and saw the outline of a car in the distance.

"Logan, look! It's a car," Kendall yelled, his feet moving faster than his mouth as he sprinted through the trees to where the car stood, not bothering to find out if Logan was following behind him. The only thing registering was their chance at rescue.

Logan, alarmed by the sound of Kendall's yell, rose to his feet and followed behind in hot pursuit of his friend. "Kendall! Wait up!"

He cut through the trees so quickly that he caught up to Kendall in seconds, slamming into his back at full speed, nearly sending them both into the middle of the road. "Kendall, why did you stop? I almost -"

"Logan, look," Kendall whispered, pointing in the direction of the car with his uninjured arm. The previous tone of hope and happiness that was in his voice just seconds before was gone, instead his voice was flat and void of emotion. Turning, Logan spotted the car and at that moment, the air seemed to leave his throat.

There. A few yards away from the two best friends was the gray van. The van that started it all, that caused the horrible nightmare that they were currently being forced to endure. It looked unharmed, just a few dents on the front bumper, clearly caused by its collision with their car. However, it looked to be stuck in large snow back in the middle of the road, its engine still running.

Kendall reacted first at the sight, and without hesitating, made his way over to the vehicle.

"Wait, Kendall, where are you going?"

"Maybe he can help us."

"Help us?! That guy is the reason why we were in the accident to begin with, Kendall," Logan said, incredulously, grabbing Kendall's free arm to stop him in place.

"It's worth a try, Logan. We don't have many options," Kendall replied, shaking his arm free and continuing his trek toward the van. Even though Logan huffed, he followed behind, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Hey! Hey, can you help us?! We're stuck in the woods, our car is pretty totaled and we need -" Kendall began, but the rest of his sentence never fully come out as he stared at the scene in front of him once he reached the driver's side of the van.

Once again, he stopped unexpectedly in mid-stride, causing Logan to crash into his back. "Kendall, you've got to stop doing that?!"

However, Kendall remained stoic, unmoving, his eyes fixated on inside of the van. So, turning his head, Logan took in the scene that had paralyzed his friend and he too was unable to believe what he saw with his eyes.

Kendall totally forgot that Logan had been following, hadn't even realized that Logan was standing next to him. It wasn't until he heard the quick and sharp intakes of breath did he realize that he wasn't alone and that the horrible sight in front of him was also being seen my Logan.

"Omigo- oh god, Kendall! Oh, God!" Logan gasped, unable to form coherent thoughts. He was shaking from head to toe and it wasn't from the cold.

"Logan, it's okay," Kendall replied, turning to his face his friend. He used his free hand to turn Logan toward him but while his body followed commands, his head remained stuck in its position, frozen in its spot. Kendall had to use his hand to physically pry Logan's glued eyes away. "Logan, look at me. It's okay. You're ok-"

"B-b-but he i-isn't, K-Ken-Kendall, h-h-he's - oh God," Logan stuttered. "Kendall, he's dead!"

Though Kendall already knew that fact to be true, the brown eyes that stared blankly at him when he first reached the driver of the car providing him that truth, hearing Logan's strained voice, still made the news difficult to absorb. He felt his strength on the situation waver slightly, and he had to mentally encourage himself to stay strong. He had to be strong for Logan, who lookjed like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown at seeing the dead body.

"I know. But it's okay. We're okay. You and me, and James and Carlos. We're all okay," Kendall reassured.

But Logan shook his head in denial, his eyes blank and ears not receptive to Kendall's words.

"N-N-No... No! We're not. No, we're not okay. We're going to die, too," Logan replied, gasping, as he struggled to catch his breath. Logan knew that he was thinking irrationally. That the van driver's death had nothing to do with his friends' fates. But, the shock of seeing his first dead body had his mind reeling, and nothing made sense anymore.

"No! Logan, no we're not going to die," Kendall shouted, after the initial shock of Logan's statement wore off. Though his voice was firm, he could tell by Logan's blank stare that he still didn't believe him. Taking Logan's face into his hands, he forced Logan to look into his eyes. "Logan, we are going to get out of here, alright? Look at me, buddy, I promise you, I'm going to get us out of this. Do you hear me? I'm going to get us home!"

He was elated to see a brief glimpse of understanding in Logan's eyes and the slight nod of his head told Logan that he agreed with Kendall's words.

"Okay, good. Why don't you go back over to the trees, okay, buddy? I'm just going to check to see if there's anything in there that we can -"

"W-w-wait, you- you're going to go through a dead man's car?"

"Maybe he's got a phone that works."

"But he's dead, Kendall."

"And we need help, Logan," Kendall answered, in a voice that meant any further discussion was closed.

Logan realized that Kendall was right. And, heeding his advice, he made his way back to the trees.

Kendall waited until he saw Logan disappear into the trees before he made any movement toward the inside of the car. He, at first, could only stare at the middle aged man, slumped over in the driver's seat, whose head rested on the steering wheel as if it were a pillow and whose eyes stared aimlessly at nothing. It was the first time he had seen a dead body himself, and it shocked him how it didn't trouble him as much as it did Logan. He decided not to dwell on that fact, and opened the car door to search through the van driver's belongings. From what he could make out without touching the body, there was not many things of importance, just magazines and old cigarette buds.

This warranted Kendall to assume that a cellphone was probably in the man's pocket. The idea however, of touching the dead man seemed to be more daunting that just looking through his car. He doubted he had the stomach to do it, but tried to will himself to perform the much needed action. He thought of his friends and remembered how he promised Logan that he would get them home. Holding his breath, and closing his eyes, he reached out and patted down the man's jacket for any sign of a small square object. The disappointment he felt when his search yielded no results crashed down on him as he realized that he had lost his last bit of hope.

"Shit," he whispered under his breath, pulling his hand away and wiping it as if it were soiled. Closing the door, he gave the van driver one last sorrowful look and followed the path back to Logan and their belongings.

Logan sat in silence as he finished packing their clothes into the duffel bag and only looked up momentarily to acknowledge Kendall's return. Kendall was happy to see that he seemed to have regained his composure; he was no longer shaking from shock. Kendall kneeled down beside him to offer more assistance.

"It all makes sense now," Logan whispered under his breath, but loud enough for Kendall to hear. Seeing the look of confusion on Kendall's face, he continued. "The accident. He didn't do it on purpose. He didn't mean to hit us."

"What do you mean? How do you know that?"

"Didn't you see the way his arm was clutching at his chest? The grimace of pain that was on his face? He probably had a heart attack behind the wheel. After he di- after it happened, his foot stay stuck on the gas and the car kept speeding on. No wonder, he kept hitting our bumper. Why he didn't stop when we were stuck in the middle of the road. He was already gone and there no one who could stop the car," Logan said, as if it were the easiest thing to understand.

Once again, Logan's ability to make sense out of everything amazed Kendall and then he realized what Logan had said. He felt guilty now for all the bad thoughts he had about the driver of the van before he knew the truth.

"Let's not tell the guys about the driver just yet? I don't want to scare them with the truth," Kendall said, clearing his throat to remove the lump that had formed from his previous thoughts.

"Sure. I understand," Logan shrugged. "Oh, wait, did he have a cellphone?"

"No," Kendall admitted, hating himself for the look of disappointment that flashed across Logan's face.

"It was brave of you for even trying. I mean, take it from the guy who almost had a nervous breakdown just looking at a dead body," Logan replied.

"It doesn't matter. I think I might have figured out -"

Kendall's words were cut off by James panicked scream and, without hesitation, he and Logan jumped to their feet, running in the direction of their friends.

James and Carlos tried to keep their conversation going, both trying to help the other through the separate pain they were both feeling. However, the topic of the Palm Woods wore thin, and silence fell on the friends as they both became lost in their thoughts.

"They've been gone for awhile," James said, breaking the silence and pulling Carlos's attention.

"Don't worry. Logan's probably trying to take everything but the kitchen sink and Kendall's trying to get him to rational," Carlos spoke up.

"I think you mean 'ration' buddy," James replied with a smile.

"Ration! Yea, ration. That's the word."

"They probably need help," James said, looking past the car to try and make out any movement, to get any proof that they were still on the other side. "I wish I could help them. But this stupid leg... I can't even stand!"

"Hey, it's okay, James. I'm sure Logan and Kendall can handle everything." Carlos said, hoping to lift James's spirits. He could tell that James was angry at the fact that he was unable to walk due to his leg injury; he never liked feeling useless when others were in trouble. Realizing that he would have to take his mind off that fact, Carlos asked, "You cold?"

"No, I'm fine," James responded.

"Liar. You're shaking like a leaf," Carlos said, shaking his head as he pulled the blanket up around James's shoulder. "Is that better?"

James smiled at the gesture, amazed by Carlos's desire to take care of him, and nodded his head in agreement, "Yea, Carlitos. It's much better. Thanks… again."

They both knew what he meant by that statement.

"You know, I heard what you said," Carlos said.

"What?" James replied, momentarily confused.

"I heard what you said while I was unconscious. About me saving your life," Carlos answered, surprisingly uncomfortable with the conversation he just started.

"Oh."

Carlos thought that would be the only response to what he had said, and picked at his brain for another topic. He was about to say something off hand about the snowfall picking up, when James muttered under his breath, "I didn't think you could hear me. I thought you were knocked out."

"I don't know where I was. It was like I knew you guys were around me and I could hear everything you guys were saying, but I just couldn't wake up. My eyes just wouldn't open," Carlos revealed, looking at James who stared back at him in awe. Again, that uncomfortable feeling returned. "Well, I just wanted to say that and you're welcome."

James couldn't help the laugh that escaped his mouth at what Carlos just said. "Carlos, you saved my life. I thought I was going to die. Heck, for a second there, I even welcomed death. And then, out of nowhere, here you come, totally going against my wishes may I add, and pull me out of an exploding car. And, all you have to say is 'You're welcome'?"

"Pretty much," Carlos replied nonchalantly.

"Carlos, I owe you my life. I can't thank you enough."

"James..."

"Honestly, Carlos, I am forever indebted to you."

"James, you don't have to -"

"You're my hero."

"James, stop it, alright? I get it, I saved you. And, you know what, I could say that I did it because that's what friends are for and all that. But, to be honest, I did for myself," Carlos said, cutting James off. His voice was full of sadness as if he wasn't proud of the words he said.

"For yourself?"

"James, you, Logan, and Kendall are more than friends to me. More than brothers to me. You guys are like a pieces of me. And if you di... If you didn't make it in that accident, it would have been like I lost of piece of myself. So, no, you don't owe me anything because I saved you to keep myself whole. I saved you to save me," Carlos said, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

James had to admit Carlos's words caused heat to build up behind his eyes as well, and he blinked a few times to prevent the tears from falling. Clearing his throat, he pulled Carlos into a sideway hug. "Come here. When did you get to be so mature?"

"I think it happened sometime during freshman year. All those free periods with Logan, he kind of rubbed off on me," Carlos joked, tears forgotten.

"Well, don't be growing up too fast for me," James smiled. Clearing his throat, he looked about the scene around him. "What is really taking them so long?"

"I don't know but I hope they come soon. I really want some corndogs," Carlos answered, even though he knew James didn't expect him to know the answer to his question. He eyed the cooler of corndogs, longingly. "I don't think Kendall and Logan would mind if I just took one."

Carlos leaned forward to reach the small rectangular box, however, the change in position altered his equilibrium and caused a sharp pain to radiate throughout his whole head. He couldn't stop the deep groan that escaped his mouth and placed both hands to his head to keep it together; he was sure his head had somehow cracked in two. James was at his side, he could see his mouth moving, forming words directed toward him, but the immense pain in his head making it impossible to decipher.

"Carlos!" James screamed, as soon as he heard the cry of pain. He was at his side a mere second later. "Carlos? Carlos, are you okay?" However, the questions went unanswered, as Carlos continued to hold his head and wither in pain.

Carlos wanted to answer James, help him understand that he was okay, tell him that the pain would quickly pass and he'd be okay again. But this pain was so unrelenting, he even doubted if those words would be true. It hurts, he thought. Oh, God. It hurts so much.

And then, it just wasn't the pain. In the pit of his stomach, he felt an unusual feeling. His stomach ached like it would if he ate too many corndogs and drank too many smoothies. Before he knew it, he felt the acid bile rise in his throat, and with warning, he threw up the little contents of his stomach, littering the pristine white snow with gastric juices and Fruit Smackers.

"Oh no," James whispered, as he remembered, deep in the recesses of his mind, how Logan warned about the signs of a concussion getting worse. He could swear that Logan mentioned something about nausea and vomiting being bad. Placing a hand of comfort on his friend's shoulder, he watched as Carlos turned sickly gray in color and brought up more of the little food he had been able to consume.

"Kendall! Logan! Guys, I need some help over here." James screamed.

He heard their quickened footsteps before he saw them, but when he did, his heart jumped in relief. Their eyes settled on Carlos, bent over in the snow, his body jerking involuntarily as he began to dry heave.

"Carlos!" Logan yelled, as he ran to his side. "Carlos look at me."

However, Carlos shook his head away from Logan's reach, turning to throw up once more.

"Kendall, this is bad," Logan said, looking up to their leader. "We need to find a way to -"

"It's okay. I have. I figured out how we're going to get home."

Author's note #2: Good? Bad? Horrible? Fantastic? Hit that little button below and let me know what you think. I write this all for you lovely readers and I would love to know what you guys are thinking about this story. Oh, and a virtual cookie goes to anyone who can correctly guess what Kendall's plan might be. And I make great cookies!