Yes, another several months, it's so ridiculous I can't apologize anymore. But when I finish this story I'll get to finish reading Another Reason by HeavenRose so I'm working hard. It's just the boys continuously surprise me and then I have to write it. The end of this chapter, for example? Totally changed.

So, warnings for more Emo Logan angst than even he can handle, plus toilet humor and some questionable language. (I know, HR, it's not your fav but I can't help writing their dialog that way.)

Thanks to HeavenRose for reviews and really sharing a view on Logan & Kendall's dynamic, plus Mama Knight. Thanks to the loyal Child who is cool, Glee Clue Rock and Rockport268 for sticking with it, and to moon-soon, Tohruismyoneechan for discovering it. 2,446 words, hope they're good ones, let's go!

"Hey, Logan!" Carlos practically jumped on him in the hallway, latching a hand to the back of his neck and dragging him into Kendall's room. "Notice anything different about Kendall?"

"Uhhhm…" Logan wasn't sure what kind of reception he had expected after the scene in the lounge, but it certainly wasn't Carlos in full-on Tigger mode. "He… isn't covered in stuffed toys?"

"Oh!" Carlos paused appraisingly, "well, that too. But look lower."

"Car'os," Kendall whined pitifully.

Thoroughly confused, Logan cast about for a clue. Kendall was covering his face, apparently in embarrassment. James rolled his eyes and jerked his head toward the bed. Carlos bounced on the balls of his feet, making impatient hand circles to speed Logan's answer.

"He's unpluggggged…" he supplied by way of a hint.

"Uhhh…" Unplugged? IV's were still present and accounted for, as was the pulse ox. Behind Carlos, James began to mime speech, over-exaggerating each syllable so he looked more like he was trying to unhinge his jaw than impart an answer. "Aaah. Cah? Cat?" Logan guessed, baffled. "I already said the stuffed animals were gone."

"Agh!" Carlos burst. "His catheter is gone!"

"CAR'OS!"

"What?" Carlos protested. "That's good, right? I mean, man, probably feels loads better."

"Carlos!" they chorused, but he refused to look abashed. James gave him a shove and Logan took advantage of Carlos returning the favor to slip to the opposite side of the bed and focus on the big news.

"So, you're mobile! Since when?"

"This mor'in'," Kendall answered, trying for offhand but obviously pleased.

The genuine pride that shone in his broken smile triggered a mirror reaction from Logan, with the difference that his own grin was so broad he could barely get words out. At least, he chose to blame the involuntary dominance of his facial muscles, rather than the sudden tightness that gripped his throat. He finally managed a "That's great, Kendall!" Because it was. So why was he being such a girl?

"Yeah." Kendall left-smiled again. " 's comin' alon'."

Now that they had embarrassingly elevated the act of being helped out of bed and escorted to the bathroom to a hat-trick level of teary achievement, Logan was at a loss as to where to take the chat. Clearing his achy throat, he settled on drawing Carlos into doing something else rude and quickly lobbed the bait. "Well, if you're so self-reliant now, you might wanna watch how fast you drink that smoothie." He indicated the mostly melted drink clutched in Kendall's left hand.

"Shu' up. Sides, smoothie's worth it." Kendall slurped for emphasis.

"I say, drink away. Carlos can always take you," James volunteered.

Carlos shrugged. "I'd do that, if you needed me to. And if James gave me a bandana to use as a blindfold."

James mini-shrieked and Kendall laughed. "S'not necessary, than's."

"Still," Carlos repeated seriously, "I would do it if you needed me to."

Kendall shifted so he could see Carlos full on with his good eye, and gave him a long, considering look that ended with a gentle smile. "Than' you, Carli'os."

It was ironic, Logan would reflect later, how this understated affirmation of friendship would lead to his undoing. Because even as Carlos nodded quietly back to Kendall, Logan felt his innocent words tug a shroud of tension into the room and wrap it around them all. 'I would do it if you needed me to.' Hairs rose on the back of Logan's neck even as his stomach dropped. He knew without looking that James was watching him.

"So," he addressed Kendall brightly, "bathroom adventure aside, Aida wasn't kidding when she said you had a big day. Getting out of bed. Doctors in and out. No wonder we couldn't wake you up! We, uh, we could go if you want to sleep…"

"Don't you dare," James growled from across Kendall, and the shroud pulled tighter.

Snared, Logan ignored James and looked to Carlos and Kendall in supplication. But Kendall had closed his eye and, wounded lips pressed flat together, was gripping his smoothie so that it buckled slightly. Carlos was giving him a desolate look, the one where his questioning eyes were tinged with the world's hurt. The ache Logan had been fighting all week gave an experimental kick against his ribs. Neither he nor it enjoyed being trapped.

"I was just saying…" he faltered weakly.

"We can't leave now, Logie."

The thud against Logan's ribs grew stronger as the pressure rose toward his throat. For a second the room was quiet as Logan struggled mentally for escape. But even he knew he wouldn't follow it through. Somehow, in a way they'd been doing since they were in third grade, they'd all arrived at the same place by unspoken consensus.

Kendall sighed and opened his eye. "You know I needa know, Logan."

He was supposed to match Kendall's calm, but somehow "cornered" brought along its own impulses. The smooth, clinical answer in his head sharpened into a defensive swing as soon as it hit air.

"You're supposed to remember on your own."

"Yeah, 'cause tha's so much fun," Kendall slashed back.

"Kendall…" Did he think Logan wanted him to hurt like that? He didn't even want talk that hurt. And lately all talk had that potential.

"Logan." Kendall rested his smoothie-frozen fingers on Logan's wrist. "Loo', jus' tell me."

This was Kendall. Soothing Kendall, who saw everything about Logan. So why didn't he understand? "Kendall," he stuttered, staring at Kendall's fingers but thinking he should be looking for the emesis basin. "I can't. I don't have… I didn't see."

"Jus' tell me wha' happened," Kendall insisted. The plead was growing beneath the placating. Logan crumbled a little at the idea of staving him off.

"I wasn't even there for all of it. I was off saving my own skin, remember?"

"As a ma'er of fac', I don'," Kendall snarked, pulling his hand back.

"Don't be perverse."

"Logan," James warned.

" 'm no' per'erse, 'm brain damaged."

"Stop it." Damn, did his voice have to quiver? "Stop it. You are not brain damaged. You just need ti-"

"No? Heh, I jus' ha' a bi' chunk a m' mem'ry missin' for no reason. How 'bout you splain why?"

"No." Logan was hating himself more with each word.

"No?" James leaned over the bed, incredulous. "What do you mean 'no', Logan? Just tell him what happened!"

"I told him." His voice had pitched so high, his throat was burning. "Kendall knows what happened."

"Ken'all knows 's much as anyone who read thad ar'icle." Kendall gestured at the newspaper clipping. "Think I 'serve to hear more'n the general publi'."

"Don't you guilt me into this, Kendall." Logan stepped back, trying to hide his shaking. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"You don' thin'?" Kendall asked evenly. And oh God, he could see how pained Kendall was, how both summoning the words and forcing them out past the broken bones was hurting him. "Logan, I don' really care what you thin'! I wa'e up and my face is bro'en and my wris' is bro'en and my brain's fugging scrambled and all I'm asking 's for you to tell me how the fug it happen' so I don't ha' fugging post- 'raumatic stress disorder attac's e'ery fugging hour! "

"Kendall, easy!" Carlos darted in to move the smoothie cup out of harm's way, settling his own grip on Kendall's wrist as he did so. "Logan…"he pleaded but Logan was running right over his peacemaking.

"Don't you get it?" Logan dug his fingers into his hair. "I couldn't have helped with your wrist. I DIDN'T SEE IT. I WASN'T THERE."

"But you saw some things." Kendall kept pressing, his desperation slicing Logan into tiny ribbons. "Some things I can' 'member. You have t' tell me Logan. Please."

'Please.' Oh God. Logan spun on his heel, unable to look at Kendall. "I can't. Kendall, I can't."

"Logan, if you know something…"

"I don't want to!" Logan turned back and stared at them all. "Why would you want to? How in the world could we want him to remember that, James? To remember how scared he was for Katie? How we couldn't escape because the car wouldn't move? To remember how it felt and sounded when the bone snapped behind his back? What that car door looked like when his face was being smashed into it? Why does anybody want him to remember that?"

"Because dude." It was Carlos, gently approaching Logan and grasping his elbow. "They're his memories."

" 's OK. 's OK, Car'os." Kendall's voice was soft, sympathetic, the fury of earlier dissipated. "Logan. You can' protec' me from it."

Logan's laugh hurt his chest. "Look who's talking, Holden Caufield. That's exactly what you wanted to do with Katie, even though she'd already seen it all. That's what had you throwing things against the wall."

"Ka'ie is ten."

"And you're 16. I can do the math, thank you."

"So. I can han'le it. I can han'le 'memberin'. I wanna 'member. I don' wanna have somethin' – I don' wanna worry tha' any ran'om thin' coul' …ma'e me …thin' not good things. Anywhere." Kendall broke off, concentrating on a long draw from the straw Carlos has restored to him. That his speech had become almost unintelligible only added to Logan's misery. "I don' wanna wai' for the nex' frea'ou', Lo'an," he finished quietly, rubbing his thumb against the plastic cup. "I can' - it can' be like tha'."

"I know," Logan heard himself say. As he spoke, he knew it was true. Everything he knew about Kendall but had been trying not to acknowledge slipped clearly into place, and he knew. It was control, lack of control, that had Kendall terrified. Kendall, who braved all things without pause, who mentally maneuvered their way around all obstacles, was afraid of his memory ambushing him in Technicolor. Without a warning of what to expect, he had no defense. No defense, no plan. Logan envisioned a Kendall cringing at every sight and sound lest it cause a flashback; a Kendall forever treading softly, trying not to trigger the onslaught of high definition horror locked somewhere in his brain. Once again a Carlos quote came back to him: 'That wasn't Kendall.' But now Logan knew how to fix him. Even if he broke himself in the doing.

His chest was buzzing, tight with the desire to cry and puke and his own voice in his head was begging him not to go forward, not to talk, but it was what Kendall needed. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. In through your nose…

"…Logan?" The prompt was sure. Asking for confidence. Promising understanding. This was their Kendall.

"You were dead."

A gasp to his left and Carlos gripped his arm more tightly. Logan blinked once and continued. The dam was open. The flood was going to come out now and it would take all of his focus to stay above water.

"Katie screamed and I came around the car and you were laying on the ground, in this… heap. Blood on your face and your throat. Blood all over the car. And the way you…were. The way you looked. I knew. You were dead."

"I wasn't," Kendall whispered hoarsely.

Logan could not look up at him, keeping his eyes on Carlos's decorated IV base although what he was actually seeing was miles, and days, away.

"I couldn't know that, not until I got closer. All I had to go on was what I saw in front of me. And what I had seen, before I ran away."

"You di'n' run aw-"

"Don't."

Not now, they couldn't stop. The flood was loose and he had to paddle straight through to the end or he'd die on the rocks. He'd almost totalled a canoe on the rocks once with Kendall, back home, and that rush is all he can think about now as he's propelled forward with the same dizzy powerlessness. Of course, that time, Kendall had laughed.

"The last I saw you, you had blood running down your face from the guy breaking your nose. He punched you and knocked you into the backseat after you got Katie away from him. But then you were standing with one foot on top of the driver's seat and one on top of the driver's door, screaming like a madman, and you jumped" - his gut clenched with that same fear in the retelling - "jumped your stupid bleeding broken face through the air and right onto the guy's back and God, Kendall - he barely even swayed. And I knew it then, I knew you were a dead man. And I left."

Carlos had two hands on his arm now, and Logan gripped him back. He was almost done, almost. His chest burned and his throat ached and his head pounded and he knew he was covered with tears and snot and spit but it was almost over, almost all out.

"And when I came back - Katie ran away from me to get back to you and I chased her - and we found you… I was so afraid to go around the car but I had to follow Katie and then she screamed and… He had just dropped you in the dirt. Just dropped you in the dirt and I thought - Kendall, you were dead. And I'm so sorry. I left you - and you were dead."

Warm arms wrapped around his shoulder and he let himself be pulled in to collapse against James's chest, promptly giving up use of his legs in the trust that his taller friend was keeping him from hitting the floor. Plastic met the back of his knees, and he was settled into a chair, Carlos wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and his blood thrumming in his ears while James crouched in front of him.

"Logan." James, who was holding himself together remarkably well, was addressing him like one might a preschooler holding a grenade pin. "Kendall's right here. He's not dead."

"I know that." Because duh, he did. He wasn't delusional. He reached gratefully for the handful of tissues Carlos offered, trying to at least clean up his nose. "But I thought he was. I looked at him and I knew he was."

"Logan…" Kendall started, but stopped as abruptly. Because really, Logan thought, what was there to say? Kendall was Kendall, over and over and through and through. Logan was Logan, like it or not. And this Logan was going to see the image of that Kendall, that lifeless Kendall, for the rest of time.