Guys, there has recently been so much goodness filtering into the BTR archives that I just want to force you all to read, that I can hardly handle it! So don't be surprised if I start making recommendations left and right. For example, you all should go read "Finding My Religion" by Rainboots because it's just a whole mess of super cute Cargan things. You should also read "First Time Lover" by The Savage Soul which is yet ANOTHER cute Cargan.

By the way: HAPPY CARGAN DAY! If you all wanna get in on it, write a Cargan!

Logan had known there was no way he could do it. There was no way he could make it to the end of the day in any sense of the word. The walk to school had been excruciating, and he entered the class panting, a permanent grimace etched into his face. He was terrified about the wounds on his back, knowing there was no way that he could have dressed them properly as he had only had a few minutes before he had to leave to wrap them, and they were, you know, on his back.

Logan had walked into his classroom with his head down, avoiding his friends, who thankfully left him alone, and sitting in his seat. He almost screamed when he leaned back, the chair murder on his injuries. Pain from the almost nonexistent pressure seized him completely, bursting into him and setting fire to his insides. He tried to resist the natural urge to yell out and settled on gasping and gaping like a fish out of water. James gave him a crooked look, but it hurt too much for Logan to even contemplate responding.

James was an issue for Logan. Not that he was really looking for it, but the taller boy seemed to be doing absolutely everything he could to avoid eye contact. He had expected the guys to hate him after finding out about his home life, but the way James was treating him was far worse. He couldn't help but catch the incredulous stares his rich friend had given him during the lessons, and it was driving him crazy. Was he really that bad? Was he really so horrible that James couldn't even believe it? The only good thing that came out of the way James kept looking at him was that he could take a break from worrying about his back, and instead worry about their friendship. It was definitely a more relieving thing to worry about.

Logan had struggled to focus on the lesson that day. His mind was obviously else where, but he didn't really care. He had already learned this lesson at least three times over. Instead, Logan allowed himself to concentrate on not wincing or making any sort of noise about how much his shirt and bandages against his back hurt. It was insane how painful it was. It honestly felt like something with claws was still trying to dig it's way into him, like pins were sticking into him down every tear in his skin, like someone had stabbed him with a hundred knifes and had just left them in.

It was recess that did him in.

In fact, it was always recess that broke him. The guys were playing tag, not unusually, and Carlos was racing after Logan, hard on his heels, when the Latino let out a loud scream. Logan quickly turned around to see his horrified face and asked what was wrong. He had only stammered and pointed, but it didn't take Logan long to realized he had bled trough his shirt, red seeping through the white cotton. He hadn't been able to read Kendall's face on their way to the nurses office, but it was evident that James was feeling nothing but guilt and nausea, and Carlos was completely confused.

Logan would never forget the sound the poor nurse had made when she removed his poorly wrapped bandages. She had dropped the spare shirt she had been holding for him and immediately fumbled for the phone, dialing 911 immediately. His friends faces were so pale, it made Logan wonder what he was missing back there. All he really new was that it hurt like a thousand things his mother would kill him for repeating. Then again, she would kill him for anything he said, let alone curses.

Now he was sitting in an ambulance, hoping for the best, and knowing it wasn't really an option. He knew his friends were all following him to the hospital in their parents' cars, but he didn't really want them, too. He also knew that the school hadn't called his mom, and that's what scared him the most. Something about old cuts and old bruises being mixed in with the new ones. Before he could really process everything about where he was, a paramedic was bent down in front of him, eyes wide and almost desperate looking.

"Can you tell me how this happened?" they asked, and Logan bit his lip, shaking his head. He didn't want to answer any questions about what had happened. He felt small and scared sitting on the gernie in the back of the ambulance as two people talked in medical terms he didn't understand over him. He was already wearing a big hospital gown that didn't have a back to keep him comfortable that practically swallowed him whole. "Why not?" the asked, and Logan just shook his head. A gentle shake on the knee goaded him to answer.

"I'm not 'possed to," he answered shortly, and the paramedic just looked at him sadly, standing up to talk with the other two people about some more things Logan didn't understand. That was okay, Logan didn't want to know what they were saying. He just wanted to sleep really, really bad.

The poor kid didn't even noticed when his eyes flickered closed, him falling sideways into sleep.

I'm a horrible writer. Gosh, I was rereading the chapters of this, and I feel like such a loser.

On a more positive note, I'm alarmed that I've actually gotten two belated birthday gifts today! I FEEL SO LOVED! Thank you!