A/N: Hooray for fast updates! I'd kind of been working on this chapter between some of the others, because this chapter, though it may not seem like it right now, is actually pretty important, and I knew it would take a lot of work to get it to my perfection. I'm really pleased with the final results. It's kind of a break from the silliness that went on in chapter 6, and we get some insight on how poor Logan's feeling. The boy is a walking contradiction when he's confused! Anyway, the italicized quotes are things that Kendall has said in previous episodes of 'BTR', but I'm sure you could have figured that out. ;)
As always, your reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! :D
Warnings: Angst.
Chapter 7
Taillights
"Big Time Rush always sticks together."
Logan had never seen the interstate so barren of vehicles. At times it seemed like he was the only one on the road, driving on an infinite sea of black. He had seen a few cars roll past on the other side of the highway heading southward, though there were currently no headlights blaring brightly in his rearview mirror, and no red taillights shining in front of him.
James and Carlos were both asleep, James with his seat slightly reclined, head turned towards the door. The gentle lull of the vehicle caused Carlos to nod off in the backseat; his knees were pulled to his chest and one arm sagged limply to the side. His mouth hung open wide, making a tiny puddle on the seat.
Logan sighed. His eyes were also feeling heavy. He glanced at the dashboard clock, noting it was coming on two in the morning. The radio was playing a slow song, just loud enough to be audible.
He had become a bit more at ease behind the wheel. Logan had gone through his behind-the-wheel drivers' training programs and successfully earned his learners' permit; he wasn't a total stranger to the rules of the road. Driving through town was probably the most frightening thing he'd ever done, but at least now that he was a ways away from Los Angeles and the traffic had considerably lightened, he felt much more comfortable. Still, he maintained a wary speed of sixty-five miles per hour, cautiously letting up on the gas pedal when a rare car would pass him. By toying with some buttons and switches on the car, Logan managed to locate the headlights, air conditioning, windshield wipers, and the mirror adjustments. Everything in Mrs. Knight's car was set to his comfort.
From beside him, James let out a light snore, stirring a bit in his slumber. Logan looked at him, studying the way his chest rhythmically rose and fell. James was out like a light. Logan shifted his eyes to check on the road before turning his head to catch a glimpse of Carlos. The Latino, helmet still protecting his head, rested soundly.
Logan faced forward, sucking in a jittery breath and gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. Seeing James and Carlos asleep so deeply unnerved him. He wanted to know how they could be so calm and confident about the current state of affairs. They acted like they had absolutely no doubt that Kendall's reason for leaving was significant and selfless.
Logan shivered. For the sake of his own well being, he tried to forget about Kendall, though that notion proved difficult since Logan desperately wanted to remember. He understood it would be best to put aside all his negative thoughts and doubts about Kendall and force himself to be hopeful and optimistic like James and Carlos. The only problem was Logan's personality, which wasn't as sanguine. What he really needed to do was just go to a quiet place and think. He needed to sort out his thoughts and figure out what he really believed. Did Kendall leave for some sort of significant purpose? Or did he just pack up and hit the road because he was sick of where his life was headed?
Unfortunately, the quietness in the car allowed Logan his time to ponder.
"Oh little Logie. So pessimistic."
James and Carlos had a point when they said Kendall would never just run away. The guys had all known each other since preschool. Right from the start, Kendall was their unspoken leader, conjuring cunning, spur of the moment schemes to get the guys out of trouble, or coming to their defense when no one else would. Kendall was the one who could handle a little pressure (unlike Logan) and keep his cool composure through the most dismal situations. Kendall put his friends and family first and foremost in his life. He constantly encouraged teamwork and togetherness, and the fact that the guys needed to look out for one another. He invested extra time to help James with his slapshot, took the fall for Carlos when he got in a little too much trouble, and beat up the bullies bothering Logan. He helped his mother raise Katie, even though he was still a kid himself. He took a job the day he turned sixteen to help pay off things around the house, considering single mom Mrs. Knight worked as a waitress.
"We're best friends. We never turn our backs on each other."
The bottom line was, Kendall was the least selfish person on the face of the earth. But despite all that knowledge, Logan continued to have a sense of suspicion. The biggest, most important question had yet to be answered: why?
Logan gritted his teeth, shifting in his seat. He glanced into his mirrors, noting the road was still deserted. Setting his jaw, his fingers curled tighter around the wheel.
Really, there was no evidence that proved Kendall ran away for some sort of justified reason. It was all speculation. Logan needed something solid and concrete. His logic and rationality was always trusting, therefore he refused to rely solely on his supposed familiarity of his friend's character to decide if Kendall was innocent. Because what if Kendall wasn't the person they all thought he was? The only piece of actual, true evidence, was the letter. The small, six word note left on Kendall's pillow saying he was sorry. Was that supposed to make everything better? By saying sorry? Was that supposed to remedy Kendall's actions?
As far as Logan was concerned, Kendall's meager apology was incriminating evidence. James and Carlos were perhaps too credulous to realize it, but Logan was not.
Logan felt his heart beat a little faster. Suddenly uncomfortable, he fidgeted until he found a more suitable position, forgetting about James and Carlos asleep. Luckily, the rustling of Logan's clothes and the crunch of the leather seat did not wake them. His vision began to blur, and he wiped at his eyes.
Why? Why would Kendall just pack his things and leave? James and Carlos couldn't even think of a good excuse. They couldn't come up with a single, decent reason why Kendall would leave. How was Logan supposed to trust them if they could hardly defend their reasoning?
"A life without risk is a life unlived, my friend."
Logan sniffled. Granted, he did agree to go with James and Carlos. The way they talked, the hopeful looks on their faces, their delighted excitement—everything had him thinking for a second or two that James and Carlos were right for once. That the address in James's pocket was significant. That Kendall was chained up in the back of Fred Baker's bakery, or had stopped by for a slice of bread, or was at least someway connected with the mysterious man.
Logan never took well to peer pressure.
He was sitting behind the wheel of Mrs. Knight's car. Mrs. Knight, the woman who had acted like a second mother to him. Mrs. Knight, the most kind person Logan knew. Mrs. Knight, the woman who loved her kids more than anything in the world.
So what was so wrong in Kendall's life? What was wrong with having a mother and sister who cared about him so much? What was wrong with having three friends who considered him a brother? What was wrong with having a beautiful, attentive girlfriend?
The only things Logan could presume were discouraging. Like, maybe Kendall was sick of being the leader. Sick of being in charge all the time, and having to look after the guys and bail them out of trouble. Maybe he was fed up with living with them; sharing a roof, sharing a mother, sharing a sister. Maybe he was too stressed about work. Recording all day could certainly take its toll, and Kendall also had his relationship with Jo to keep in balance. Perhaps he was under the assumption that he had to be strong all the time. Maybe, Kendall somehow got the idea that because he was the leader, he couldn't tell his friends that he couldn't take this anymore.
"We've always promised since we were pee-wee hockey players that we would stick together."
Kendall had left them all. And now, Logan, James and Carlos were no different than Kendall. They were packing up and leaving, with nothing but a small, apologetic note in their stead. They had taken Mrs. Knight's car, abandoned her and Katie, and were traveling through the state with only a couple hundred dollars, a change of clothes, James's beauty products, Carlos's backpack of unnecessary underwear, and an address slip that was probably nothing.
Logan realized he was holding the steering wheel so strongly, his knuckles had turned white. He instantly loosened his grip, flexing his aching fingers. The speedometer told him he was now going eighty-five miles per hour.
He let out a small gasp and applied the brakes. The car slowed dramatically. He veered to the shoulder of the road, stopped the car and put it in park, though left the engine running. He knew he should switch his emergency lights on, but he didn't care. Logan leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the wheel, eyes stinging with tears.
"Mmmph…" James murmured. He yawned. "Are we there yet?" There was a rustling in the backseat, signaling that the sudden lack of continuous motion caused Carlos to wake as well.
Logan made a small whimpering noise. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing away his unshed tears. His heart ached, his stomach hurt, and his head throbbed. This was so stupid. If Kendall wanted to leave, they should have let him. Who were they to bring him back home so he could be unhappy?
"Hey." Logan was vaguely aware of a hand resting on his shoulder. "You okay?" James's voice was rough and hoarse from sleep, but the concern in his tone was still noticeably present.
Logan took a deep breath and managed to lift his head, shrugging away James's touch. He settled back into his seat, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. He focused his misty gaze through the windshield, staring at the dark road ahead. "Guys, what are we doing?" His throat was so tight with emotion that he could barely get his words out.
James narrowed his eyebrows and answered slowly. "We're going to find Kendall."
Carlos yawned, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth. "Wha's goin' on?" He was ignored.
"No, I mean what are we really doing?" Logan said to James. He raised his voice slightly more than he had intended. "We stole Mrs. Knight's car. We're driving without licenses through parts of California we've never seen. We caused a car accident back in LA, we've probably got cops after us, and to top it all off, we're going after Kendall, who may or may not even want to be found!" His voice rose more and more which each word until he was practically shouting, earning a surprised jump from James. The brown-haired boy was briefly taken aback, but quickly recovered.
"Hey, I thought we agreed that Kendall would never just run away," James said. "There's another reason-"
"No, James, we don't know that!" Logan snapped. He threw his hands up in exasperation. "We don't know what Kendall was thinking. Maybe he got sick of us! Maybe he wanted to leave!" As an unexpected tear rolled down Logan's cheek, he took a deep breath to calm himself. James looked like he had been slapped in the face, and Logan turned his head away. "Maybe… he doesn't want to be found," Logan whispered.
The interior of the vehicle fell into silence. The radio, still switched on, played no song, just a tiny buzz of static that could hardly be heard. Carlos was quiet in the backseat, sitting now upright, but not moving.
James finally exhaled, loudly. "That's what we're going to find out, man." He patted the pocket which contained the address slip.
Logan let out a sob. Feeling his face flush, he covered it up with a sarcastic grunt. "Yeah, and let's say Kendall did run away for some stupid reason, and we do find him, and he doesn't want to come back. Then what?" He furiously wiped at more tears.
"Well that's a dumb question," Carlos piped up. Logan rotated in his seat along with James, and Carlos shrunk back at their stares. He cleared his throat. "I mean, if all that stuff you're thinking is true…" He shrugged innocently. "Then we'll help him."
Logan sighed, running a hand over his face. His racing heart was beginning to regain its normal pace, and as the burning in his eyes slowly subsided, his eyelids reverted to feeling like lead. He closed them, nestling back into his seat. The jacket over his arms made his body warm and secure, and he wanted nothing more than to slip off into a dreamless sleep so he could forget about everything for a while.
"Look, Logan…" James finally said. Logan opened his eyes, but refused to meet James's. He peered out the window, watching as a yellow light flooded over the inside of the car. A large semi truck zoomed past; the first vehicle Logan had seen in a while. When the taillights disappeared into the distance, James continued. "We've pretty much talked about all the possibilities here. The bottom line is, either Kendall is at this address or he isn't. Personally, I believe he's fallen into the clutches of an evil baker." He paused, as if expectantly awaiting a response from the boy in the drivers' seat. When he didn't get one, James heaved a sigh and kept on. "But, I think, as Kendall would say… Whatever happens, happens. We're in this together. And we can't give up."
Logan shook his head. "How do we know Kendall hasn't given up on us?"
"Do you really believe that?" Carlos asked from the backseat.
"I don't know what to believe," Logan admitted.
James unclipped his seatbelt and leaned forward to face Logan in full, even though Logan still wouldn't look at him. "Okay. You can say whatever, Logan. But I know you don't believe Kendall would just leave. There has to be something. You're thinking it too, because if you weren't, then you wouldn't be driving right now."
James had a valid point. But wanting to believe and actually believing were two different things entirely.
"Besides," James said, gesturing to the clock, "we're like, two hours from home already. It would be stupid to turn around now."
"Okay, so say we get to the bakery," Logan snapped, finally facing his friend. "We arrive, and for whatever reason, Kendall's there. And he doesn't want to come back with us." Logan made sure to turn to Carlos. "And he doesn't want our help. Who are we to deny him of happiness? Maybe Kendall wants to be away from us."
James rolled his eyes. "Can you stop thinking up these ridiculous situations?" he reproached. "That's not going to happen."
"It might," Logan argued, taking offense at James's over-confidence. "Maybe Kendall has some sort of psych thing going on, you know?"
Carlos wrinkled his brow in confusion. "Kendall isn't psychic." He stopped, and his eyes widened. "Or maybe he is!" Carlos cried, leaning forward in excitement. "Guys! That must be why he left. He saw some premonition thing and had to go stop it. That's why his note said he had to—"
Logan cut Carlos off before he got his spirits any higher. "No, no. I said a psych thing, not psychic."
"Oh." Carlos's face fell, and he crossed his arms. "Well, what do you mean then?"
"Psych as in psychological," Logan patiently explained. He had to remember he was talking to the kid who sucks the chocolate off of peanut M&Ms and saves the nut for a later snack. "Maybe Kendall has some mental illness or something that's interfering with his logic—"
This time, James interrupted, voice dark and flat. "Kendall doesn't have a mental illness."
James could deny it all he wanted, but Logan knew it was a rational possibility. The boys fell into silence yet again, the dull crackling on the radio becoming more perceptible. Logan frowned and flipped a switch on the dashboard, ceasing the incessant noise. The car still motionless, Logan rested his hands on the steering wheel. His muscles were achy from being so tense all day, and all his worries had exhausted his body. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stay awake.
"Logan," Carlos finally said in a whispery voice. Logan flipped around in his seat to look at his friend. Carlos's eyes were trained on the floor of the vehicle, one hand fiddling with the strap hanging from his helmet. "I'm scared too, you know."
Logan stared at him for a couple moments. "You don't act like it," he murmured.
Carlos shrugged. "I just have a little more faith than you do." He sighed and looked up, placing his hand on Logan's shoulder. "You're right, buddy. This whole address thing is a long shot. But how would you feel if we were sitting at home doing nothing?"
"What would Kendall do if one of us had left?" James added.
Logan snorted. That was probably one of the easiest questions to answer: Kendall would go find them.
Outside, another car rolled past. Shadows crisscrossed over the inside of the vehicle, yellow beams lighting up the unusually earnest look on Carlos's face, and the determined one on James's. As Carlos withdrew his hand, Logan closed his eyes and shook his head back and fourth. Sometimes he really thought he needed new friends. If he didn't have James and Carlos suckering him into their bright ideas, his life would be so much more stress-free. But no. Some divine power decided to place him on Earth with a naïve, reckless, impulsive helmet-wearer and a dramatic, occasionally conceited fashion plate with an annoying sense of fortitude.
Logan huffed a sigh for the hundredth time. It was a good thing his wishes were never granted, because he hadn't a clue what he would do without Carlos and James.
"Be lucky I love you guys," Logan muttered. He made sure his seatbelt was snug, then put the car into drive. He instinctively looked over his shoulder before pulling onto the road, though another vehicle couldn't be seen.
"So we're good?" James wondered, buckling up.
Not really. But it was too late to turn back now. Besides, James and Carlos were stubbornly certain Kendall's reason for leaving was legitimate. If they wanted get their hopes high, Logan would let them. He couldn't say anything to get them to change their minds, anyway. "Yeah. We're good."
James smirked, reaching over and giving Logan a pat to the shoulder. "Alright, sweet," he said. "Wake me when we get there."
"Oh, no," Logan said. "If you guys want me to keep driving, I need to sleep for a little bit."
Carlos leaned forward between the two front seats, nearly close enough to touch the windshield. "What? No! We can't!"
Logan took a hand off the wheel to give Carlos a gentle push backwards. "Dude, put your seatbelt on," he chided. He didn't want a repeat of what had happened a few hours ago.
Carlos ignored him. "Kendall could be in trouble right now. We have to find him as soon as possible!"
Logan pressed down on the accelerator, closing in on his steady pace of sixty-five. "And we're never going to be able to do that if I fall asleep behind the wheel and we crash and die."
"Good point," James said with a nod.
Carlos smacked his arm. "Don't side with him."
"Carlos, sit down," Logan said again.
The boy in the backseat pouted like a two-year-old, rolling his eyes and flopping back on his bottom. He fumbled for his lap belt, angrily snapping it across his waist. "Then at least let me drive. That way you can sleep and we can switch again when you're rested."
"No," Logan and James replied simultaneously.
"Why not?" Carlos demanded to know.
"The words 'Carlos' and 'driving' should never be in the same sentence," Logan said matter-of-factly.
"I've driven a snowmobile before," Carlos pointed out. "It can't be that different from driving a car."
Logan rubbed at his eyes in irritation before focusing back on the road. "Look, I'll take the next exit and we'll pull off somewhere secluded. We can all sleep for a couple hours and get up at, say, four. Then I'll have gotten a little bit of sleep, and I should be good to drive, okay?"
James reluctantly shrugged, and Logan awaited confirmation from Carlos. The Latino at long last muttered, "Fine," though he seemed grudged.
As Logan continued driving, searching for an exit, James inclined forward to flip the radio back on. Some soft music floated in from the speakers, the beauty of the acoustic guitars absorbing Logan into a cold cloud of lament.
A tear slipped from his eye, and he wiped at it frantically, hoping no one saw. He was more frustrated now than anything, because James and Carlos were being so strong and confident, and here he was crying like an idiot.
Logan clenched his fists around the wheel, finally seeing an exit just ahead. In his blurred, peripheral vision he caught James glancing over at him. Logan ignored it, flipping on his blinker and pulling onto the ramp. When he slowed and came to the end of the road to pause at a stop sign, he spotted another marker. A town called Hermanville was eight miles east. Sniveling, Logan turned right, his headlights illuminating the sign as he passed it by.
He sobbed.
Darn it, why was he crying? Carlos and James weren't, so he shouldn't be either, right? Kendall wouldn't cry. Kendall never cried. He was the toughest and calmest of them all, saying that tears were inane and didn't help a thing, so really, there was no point to crying at all. It was illogical. It was senseless. It was… stupid.
But he couldn't stop. Shoot! Why couldn't he knock it off? Big, hot drops were raining down his cheeks and rolling off his chin, whimpers and gasps were spilling from his mouth. His heart was so far up his throat that it was beating against his tonsils, and each swallow he took made him nearly choke.
James was staring at him. Logan could feel his concerned gaze start to burn a hole in the side of his head. He blushed furiously, doing his best to concentrate on the road. There wasn't a vehicle in sight. The headlights of Mrs. Knight's car was the only sign of life on the inky plane. There was turn breaking off from the highway, and Logan took it before reaching up to swipe his sweater sleeve across his cheeks and nose. They didn't stay dry for long.
Gravel crunched noisily underneath the tires, and after spending two hours on the interstate, driving thirty-five seemed wearyingly slow. He kept the car going for a good mile before a cluster of skeletal-looking trees appeared off to the left. It seemed like a decent enough place to conceal the car for a couple hours, so Logan pulled off. There was no ditch on either side of the road, just a stretch of bumpy grass.
James and Carlos both jumped slightly (no doubt remembering the events that occurred back in town) as the car bounced up and down on the uneven field. Logan thought nothing of the possible PTSD he had inflicted upon his friends and continued onward, the beams ahead jolting with the movement of the car. The dark trees reminded him of a horror movie. He may have been concerned about a serial killer in a hockey mask bursting through the brush with a bloody butcher knife, but then decided if he couldn't prevent himself from crying, at least he could try to push away his paranoia.
A row of low shrubs spanned across the tree line. Logan drove the car forward, swinging in behind the protective wall. Figuring it was good enough, he rolled his window down just a crack and switched off the car, tossing the keys atop the dashboard. The stillness and the silence was unfamiliar to his ears.
Wiping his eyes, Logan unclipped his seatbelt and turned in his seat, resting his head against the cool glass of the window. "Night," he murmured.
There was a series of tiny beeps in the backseat as Carlos presumably set the alarm on his watch.
"Hey," James said.
Logan figured his friend was speaking to Carlos until he felt a gentle hand on his upper arm. With a tiny sigh he lifted his head and looked into James's eyes. The taller boy didn't say anything else, and he didn't need to. Logan nodded and was about ready to resume attempting to sleep when two arms latched around his seat, squeezing tightly across his torso. A ghost of a smile spanned Logan's lips as he gave Carlos's hands a pat. The Latino held on a few moments longer, then wordlessly released his hold and found a comfortable position sprawled across the back seat.
Logan mentally thanked him. He needed that.
Even though he had countless fears plaguing his spinning mind, Logan found that sleep came easy to him, especially with his skin still tingling with the memories of his friends' touches. He was out as fast as he had cut the engine.
