A/N: Okay. You had to have seen this chapter coming. But don't worry. Things have to get worse before they can get better, right? There are three more chapters left after this one, and I'm certain the next one will be really long, and the following two will be relatively short.
Please make me happy by reviewing. I totally need some motivation to get the last chapters done!

Warnings: Intense-ness, angst, mentions of blood, and psychological... craziness. Yeah. I really had no idea I was capable of writing this.


Chapter 29
Everyone's Fine

Kendall awoke with a racing heart and a body drenched in sweat. He immediately stretched out an arm to locate his sister, found no one, then flung the covers off his body. Tossing his legs over the side of the bed, Kendall acknowledged Carlos asleep on the floor with a pillow under his helmet-clad head and a thin blanket wrapped around him. But there wasn't time for that. Kendall bolted out of the room.

James James James. The name pounded into his mind repeatedly, relentlessly, maddeningly, as it had so often before. Kendall skidded into the hall and rushed to his friend's door. Breathing hard, he burst in and found James soundly asleep, nearly buried under a tangle of sheets. Kendall wasted no time gliding to the bed and yanking the covers off James's body.

James stirred slightly, mumbling something unintelligible.

Kendall wadded fistfuls of James's shirt, shaking him and pulling him and desperately trying to get him to open his eyes. Kendall needed to see the liveliness in those hazel irises, needed to see for himself that they could stare back at him.

"What…?" James mumbled tiredly as he finally snapped awake. His expression morphed into one of surprise and utter confusion as he comprehended Kendall's hands gripping him. "Kendall? What's going on?"

Kendall couldn't hear him. The cracking gunshots echoing in his ears were just beginning to fade away to muted pops. Panting, Kendall dropped to his knees, nearly causing James to be pulled onto the floor.

The taller boy regained his balance and pushed himself upright on the edge of the mattress. He placed his hands on Kendall's, coaxing the blond to remove them. But Kendall was determined to hang on. He wouldn't let go. Not yet.

"What's going on?" repeated James, sounding frightened. "Kendall, talk to me."

The words broke through the barrier of nightmarish sounds lingering in Kendall's mind. Trembling, and with a thudding heart, he stammered out a response. "Y-You're dead."

Kendall wondered at which point concern became fright, or if the words were in fact synonymous. James displayed a mixture of both, which made Kendall hate himself for not having enough willpower to control his thoughtless actions.

"I'm not," said James, gently. "I'm right here."

"You were dead."

"But I'm not."

"James…"

"Look at me, Kendall. I'm right here. I'm okay." He grinned as though to prove it; a big, toothy smile, genuinely assuring.

Finally feeling his heartbeat calm, Kendall relented, managing a reluctant nod as he released his friend. He realized he'd been gripping James's t-shirt so tightly that a red ring had formed around the back and sides of James's neck due to the collar digging into the flesh. Sighing a breath of relief, Kendall fell back, his bottom hitting the carpet with a small thud. He rubbed at his face, still feeling nothing beneath his fingers.

"Kendall, ah, maybe you want to, you know, give that therapist a call?" James suggested, cautiously. He straightened his shirt. "Your mom made me, Carlos and Logan promise to go, so we can come with you, if you want."

Kendall shook his head.

James frowned. "She's going to drag you in there eventually. If not today, probably tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know," muttered Kendall. He slowly climbed to his feet and sat down beside his friend. "I told Mom I'd go when I was ready to talk."

James dropped his gaze to the floor. "Oh."

"I mean, it's not like I can't talk about it or something," Kendall said, quickly. "I can. It doesn't bother me." He wasn't sure if he was lying or not. "Therapy just seems pointless. What happened wasn't that big of a deal."

James turned to face him, mouth falling open. "What do you mean, not that big of a deal?" His voice lowered. "How could you say that?"

"I'm alive, aren't I?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

Running footsteps ended their conversation. Carlos sprinted into the bedroom, a blanket over his shoulders, something shining in his eyes. "Where were you?" he demanded, anger directed at Kendall.

Said boy shrugged, confused.

"You said you'd be there when I woke up. You promised you wouldn't leave, remember? You can't just… You're supposed to…" He blushed furiously when the words finally died on his tongue. Scowling, Carlos angrily cast his blanket to the floor, then stormed off down the hall, grumbling something under his breath.

Kendall and James remained in slightly awkward silence for nearly a full minute as Kendall stared at the empty doorway where Carlos had stood. Then he cleared his throat. "I think Carlos slept in my room last night."

"Your mom did too, actually. I heard her up at midnight and saw her bringing a blanket and pillow into your room. She must have woken up before you."

Kendall pushed a hand through his hair, thinking. His brain began to present every unsettling thought, starting with three 2J residents not wanting to leave his side and ending with the fact that no one seemed to be on the path to normal. The logic side of Kendall reminded him of how he should feel, but the emotional part seemed to be broken. He yearned for guilt to weigh him down, for grief to clench his insides, for fear to flood his senses. It was better than nothing.

James clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on." He rose to his feet and started towards the door. "You should probably change your bandages, anyway."

Kendall unconsciously placed his gauze-wrapped hand over the gash on his stomach. He'd forgotten the injuries were there.


By lunchtime, Kendall was fairly certain his mom and sister were going to suffocate him.

He'd been squished between them on the orange couch for half an hour. They didn't speak much, just clung to him like he'd disappear (or run away) if they didn't. Kendall did stick to his promise of watching TV again with Carlos, whose attention was focused more on Kendall than the screen. James seemed on edge, eyes constantly shifting from person to person, and Logan was alone at the kitchen table, poking at the skin of a bright red apple with his fingernail. Kendall tried to ignore the guys' stares, tried to ignore Logan's isolation, tried to pretend everything was okay. He owed them that much, right?

The program hit a commercial, and Mrs. Knight asked Katie if she was planning on getting dressed for the day. Kendall's sister still donned her pajamas.

"I didn't have a clean pair of jeans in my closet," Katie replied, shrugging.

Mrs. Knight tossed her head back and groaned. "Ugh, that's right. I haven't done laundry all week."

And so, after collecting all the dirty clothes in the apartment, kissing the head of each member of Big Time Rush, making sure the door was locked, and double-checking that each boy's cell phone speed dial listed Mrs. Knight as caller number one, the fretting mother regretfully left the guys alone and recruited Katie to help her with the laundry.

Kendall could clearly see the pain on Mrs. Knight's tired face as she exited 2J; how reluctant she was to leave her son without his mother. Single moms had to make sacrifices, and though Mrs. Knight had made plenty of those in her life, Kendall knew it would never get easier.

The guys were silent, as they'd been all morning. In the past, there was never a dull moment in the apartment. Why wasn't this day normal? Everyone was here, everyone was okay. Why couldn't they at least make an effort to seem like themselves?

Maybe they couldn't. But Kendall could. After all, it was his job. His duty. He stood from the couch, and immediately all eyes were on him. "I'm gonna get a snack," he declared, then walked to the kitchen. He wasn't really hungry, but at least making a sandwich would occupy himself. "Want me to grab you guys something?"

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" snapped Logan. "Any chance to treat us like we're five."

Kendall froze. Like the flip of a switch, the air was suddenly heavy with tension. Every other noise in the room seemed to fade out, leaving only the sound of his heart thudding in his ears. Slowly he turned, facing his friend, who'd shot out of his chair so quickly that it'd toppled over behind him.

Logan's eyes were like burning embers, and an uncharacteristic look of contempt was etched across his face. It was as though Logan had been waiting for them to be alone, waiting for his chance to release the unsettling thoughts building in his mind. He'd kept them inside far too long, and they were dying to break out.

Bracing himself for a vicious argument, Kendall swallowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Why?" Logan gritted out. He breathed in short, quick bursts of air. "Why would you do it?"

Kendall knew exactly what he was talking about. He looked towards James and Carlos, wide-eyed and petrified on the couch, then back to his seething friend. He began slowly. "I did it because I would do anything to protect you guys—"

"No!" Logan tossed his hands into the air, red-faced. "No, you shouldn't… You shouldn't have done that! I mean, why—? It doesn't make… I-I can't… I can't even…"

Kendall's logic told him to go comfort Logan; the smaller boy squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, shoulders quivering. Kendall always strived to make amends in the past. He searched for his heart, hoping it would provide him with some momentary compassion. There were feelings pumping, though not the kinds of emotions he wished for. The sensations were simmering, heavy and malicious. His hands twitched with a desire to be clenched, but Kendall managed to fight away the urge for now.

Instead, he took cautious steps forward as he spoke, hoping gentle, sincere words would get through to Logan. It was what Normal Kendall would do, and he was normal. For their sake, he was. "Listen to me, Logan. Listen."

Logan wouldn't look at him.

"I would never risk one of you guys getting hurt. Never. And those men were threatening to do just that if I didn't go with them."

"B-But…"

"But nothing." Kendall pressed on, inching closer, voice soft and controlled. "Don't think for one second that you didn't deserve it. A long time ago I promised myself I would protect my friends no matter what. I'm not going to start breaking promises now." He reached out a hand, intending to place it on his friend's shoulder.

Logan growled and smacked Kendall's arm. He angrily twirled away from the blond, screaming with a voice so strident that it bounced off the apartment walls. "Maybe I don't want you to protect me!"

"Logan—" Kendall tried to say.

"Shut up! I don't want you risking your life for me, okay? If you're going to die trying to save me, then I don't want saving!" There was so much hurt clouding Logan's eyes that Kendall figured if he wasn't so numb on the inside he would have felt his heart break.

"I know you're alive, but we didn't think so!" shouted Logan. "We watched you get dragged off by some guy with a gun! You were screaming and begging him to shoot you! What do you think we assumed happened to you, huh?"

Kendall was desperate. "Logan, please—"

"Shut up, Kendall, shut up!"

Carlos began to wail.

"I already thought we'd lost you once! I found your note, you know. Just a stupid piece of paper with a flimsy apology that was supposed to make everything okay. Is that what you thought? That once we saw your note everything would be alright and no one would bother to look for you? Huh?" He jabbed an accusatory finger at Kendall's chest, spiteful, pained eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You could have found a way out, but you didn't! We stole your mom's car! We drove through the entire state on 'maybe's and 'what if's! Have you ever spent twelve hours in a car with them?" The finger shifted to James and Carlos.

Kendall was rendered speechless as he listened to Logan's venomous tirade. His body tingled as his numbness slowly began to trickle away. Heat flushed his skin, all the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He bit the inside of his cheek to distract the furious words that begged to explode from his mouth. He knew these feelings. It was the same way he'd felt when he looked at Chris.

Chris.

Why couldn't Chris just leave him alone?

Then Logan was gasping through his bitter words; sobs of scorn, sobs disdain. His hands finally fell to his sides, but his fists shook and were tightly balled; the anger hadn't diminished. "And I was s-so scared, Kendall, I was so scared that even if we did find you, y-you wouldn't want to come back. Because we didn't know what had really happened. How could we have?" He swiped a hand over his eyes, then clenched his teeth together. "But then we did find you. We finally found you after everything we went through, and I was so glad that you were okay but I hated you. I hated you so much for leaving us, and for what you put yourself through. And for what? For us?" His voice cracked. "For us, Kendall?"

Kendall shifted uncomfortably where he stood, finding it progressively difficult to resist lashing out. How could Logan be Kendall's family, but Kendall not be Logan's? Logan should understand. Family always understood. Logan had been told of Kendall's reasons for leaving, so how could he not get it?

Maybe Logan didn't want to understand.

The thought made Kendall shudder with disgust. At least Chris had wanted to know. The man had practically begged Kendall to tell him why Kendall agreed to be a hostage. Chris may not have understood why the guys were considered family, but at least he was aware of their importance to Kendall.

Logan continued, still keeping a large distance between himself and Kendall. "Then suddenly you were gone again, and we had no idea where you were or if you were even alive. I had to lie to Carlos, tell him everything would be okay. I saw your mom sobbing and your sister crying and asking for her big brother, but he wasn't there! You weren't there, Kendall!"

He broke off sobbing—harsh, loud sounds that wracked his whole body. Kendall waited with limited patience, knowing Logan wasn't finished with his outburst.

"And how do you think we felt," Logan went on, barely getting the words out, "after w-we knew you put y-yourself through all this to protect us?" He shook his head back and forth. "It w-wasn't worth it, Kendall, it wasn't w-worth it…"

Kendall had witnessed rage several times during his captivity. He'd experienced it once himself, as he fought Chris in the apartment. The feelings in his chest were identical to the unforgettable ones he'd summoned several days ago. Logan was his target, and he didn't care. He wanted to hate Logan. Now that Chris was out of the picture, he needed to hate Logan.

The hate put words in Kendall's mouth, and his heart was powerless to intervene. "What do you want me to do, Logan?" Despite the intense flames continuing to manifest, his words were icy. "Apologize? Say I'm sorry for wanting to make sure my friends didn't die?"

"Shut your mouth, Kendall!" Logan screamed, sobs pushed away. "You think you're Superman or something? You're always trying to play hero. Is that what you thought? That you'd save the day?" He let out a loud, humorous laugh. "Well great job, buddy! You did it. You put us through days of wondering if our best friend cared about us, or was even alive, for that matter." He tapped his chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Oh, and don't forget being held hostage by three guys with guns and watching one of those guys get shot by the police. And then there's the fact Carlos now has some sort of separation anxiety but is in denial about it and James went through a personality change, but you probably don't want me to go through that."

Kendall stomped forward, opening his mouth to defend himself, but Logan wouldn't let him. He held his ground. "I mean, at least no one walked through the halls of the Palm Woods—which are monitored by security cameras, by the way— and came into our locked apartment to shoot us in our sleep. It's not like the place is filled with witnesses to hear the gunshot."

The sarcasm was Kendall's breaking point. He lunged forward, aiming to grab Logan by the collar, punch him, do something to shut him up, but the smaller boy stepped back at the last second, causing Kendall to grasp air. Panting in his failed attempts to stay level-headed, Kendall pointed his finger. "None of that stuff was my fault. I left to save your lives. I didn't ask you to follow me, Logan." Then, he shouted. "I didn't want you to come!"

"I didn't want you to leave!"

Kendall closed his mouth.

"Every cause has an effect, Kendall! It's simple science. You disappear, we find you. That's what family does."

His voice dropped an octave. "Well it was the wrong cause and effect, wasn't it?"

"Oh, what? It was supposed to be you leave and we survive? Is that it?"

"Yes, Logan, that's exactly it." Kendall suddenly felt the need to explain himself. "You can look at what I did from a hundred different standpoints, but I can save you the trouble of wondering and tell you right now that I did this because you, Carlos and James are some of the most important people in my life. You're my family, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat whether you like it or not, because I'd rather have you hate me for the rest of your life than have you dead."

His chest heaved up and down as he locked his narrowed eyes with Logan's. It was another staring match, only this time tears from Logan's unblinking eyes rolled down his flushed cheeks.

When Logan finally said something, his tone was low and hopeless. "Good. You got exactly what you wanted." Then, ending the confrontation, he turned and stalked stiffly towards the hall.

Kendall stared at his back, the fury flaring once again in his chest. It warmed him, and he wanted more. He wanted to grasp the feeling and never relinquish it. He wanted to feel the heat in his veins, the quake in his bones. The bandage on his injured hand was stained red; the wound had reopened, and he squeezed his fingers into a fist so he could feel the blood gush from the cut.

"Where are you going?" he growled at Logan. "Don't walk away from me."

"Leave me alone, Kendall!" Logan shouted over his shoulder. "I can't look at you right now."

Kendall started after him. "Come back here!"

"Go away!"

"Logan, I mean it!"

"Leave me alone!" From the hall, Logan's bedroom door slammed shut so hard that a picture on the wall shook and threatened to crash to the floor.

The tension still lingering in the room wanted to pull Kendall to the floor. The apartment was stock-still as Kendall stopped near the hallway entrance, catching his breath. His cut throbbed and stung, but it wasn't enough. He needed more feeling, more proof that he was alive. Hatred was the only thing that could crack the wall he'd subconsciously created as a defense mechanism, locking the other emotions out. It was his fuel, his drive, his drug. It would consume him, but what did it matter? If his family didn't want to understand his actions, then what was the point of trying to be normal?

Seeking another reason to submit to his darkest self, Kendall strode briskly to James and Carlos. Both boys were on their feet in front of the couch, Carlos looking horrified with his gaping mouth and teary eyes, and James appearing to be processing the blowup which had just occurred.

"Is that what you guys think, too?" Kendall demanded to know, voice raising with each sentence. "You think I was selfish for trying to do the right thing? You think you weren't worth it?"

James tried to speak, but no sound emerged. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and tried again after a pause. "Kendall, no. We…"

"You what?"

He sighed, eyes narrowed in sympathy. "Look, man, it's not that we're ungrateful." Each word was spoken with such gentleness that Kendall couldn't have tried to twist them into criticizing ones if he tried.

"You saved our lives," James continued, nearly whispering. "But… But you did go through a lot for us. You almost died for us." The tears in his eyes caught the light and revealed a shimmer identical to the wink of Chris's pistol. "It seems like you're always the one doing the saving. Maybe you could have talked to us, and we could've returned the favor for once."

Kendall laughed acidly. "Oh, well, that's fantastic, isn't it?" He tossed up his hands. "Okay, James, how about I tell the cops I don't want to press charges, get Chris released, and then let him have me again? Then you guys can come save me, and everyone can be happy."

"Kendall, that isn't—"

"Why can't you guys just let this go!" An abrupt surge of sadness hit him hard, and he struggled to keep his hate from morphing into grief. "I know you thought I was dead. Big deal! I thought James was dead! I thought those other freaks had Carlos and Logan! You don't see me acting any different!"

James sneaked a wary glance at Carlos.

"It's in the past," Kendall said, firmly. "I'm fine. You're fine. Everyone's fine. Don't dwell on it anymore."

"We're not fine," Carlos argued. Both Kendall and James turned to him, and Carlos shrunk back at the attention. He looked at his feet but spoke to Kendall, quietly, with no intentions of turning the dispute into a shouting match. "Sometimes it seems like pretending will make everything easier. But it doesn't. Because when you realize things aren't getting better, it makes life a whole lot harder." He sniffled. "You can't just forget about what happened."

Kendall couldn't have responded if he tried.

"What were you thinking when you left?" asked James, still retaining his tender, contempt-free demeanor. He was just trying to understand. "Did you ever think about what would happen if you made it home? Did you assume everyone would just look the other way and pretend this didn't happen? Yeah, Kendall, you saved our lives, but we didn't know that." James paused, swallowing. "When you walked out, you left wounds. And we haven't exactly had time to heal yet."

Kendall remained before them for nearly a minute, scrutinizing their every feature. How could they hate him for saving their lives? It wasn't like he'd died in the process. Yeah, he could have. But he didn't. So what did any of that matter now? It was history. Just a bad memory. Why couldn't they continue on with their lives? Why did they need time to heal? Heal from what? From him walking out the front door? That should have all healed once they realized why he'd done it!

Kendall gritted his teeth so hard they ached. With a roar of Logan's name, he spun away from James and Carlos and stomped across the living room to the hall. He slammed a fist into the closed door of Logan's bedroom, hearing the wood snap.

"Logan!" he bellowed, pounding forcefully. "Logan, open the door!"

"Go away!" a muffled voice shouted in response.

Kendall nearly choked on his own loathing. He wanted nothing more than to take the door down, as he had when he'd been trapped in the small closet. Balling his injured hand into a fist, he banged it against the door over and over again, feeling the gash throb pleasantly beneath the wet bandage. "Logan, I am not kidding! Open the door!" He screamed so loud his throat ached.

"Kendall, stop it." It was James, standing behind him.

Kendall didn't hear him. "Logan! Logan, I swear I'll break it down unless you unlock it right now! Logan! Logan, open the door!"

He swung and landed a hard punch to the surface. Something in his hand cracked. Stepping back, the door suddenly burst open with Logan standing on the other side, two trails of tears steaming down his red face.

"Just leave!" Logan cried. "I have nothing to say to you! Get out of my room!"

Kendall pushed past him, ignoring James and Carlos who lurked in the doorway. "Why don't you make me, huh?" he sneered at Logan. "I was going to give my life for yours, and you don't even care? You didn't want me to?"

"No, I didn't." Logan approached Kendall for the first time and hovered just inches from his face. "I don't want you looking out for us like we're little kids. We could have handled whatever problem came our way, like we always do. As a team." He was crying again. "You loved us enough to risk getting yourself killed. Don't you think we'd do the same for you?"

As Kendall stared at him, Logan backed up, finally letting his tense shoulders sag. He shook his head disappointedly, then gestured weakly to the door. "Get out."

"No."

"I said, get out." He spat the words. "I don't want anything to do with you right now, Kendall. I just…" He met Kendall's dark eyes and whispered, "I hate you."

Kendall punched him.

"Hey!" cried James, as he and Carlos started forward.

Logan stumbled into the wall, a hand racing to cover his split lip. He held out his other arm, warning his two friends to not intercede. "Did you…?" Logan slowly straightened himself from the blow, facing Kendall with a look of incredulousness. "Did you just… hit me?"

Kendall turned his attention to the hand which had been used to strike Logan. He focused on the knuckle, pink and swollen, and realized it didn't hurt anymore. His heart was beating calmly, like he'd never been angry at all. It was gone, all gone, in the split second it had taken him to punch his friend.

"No," Kendall said.

"What?" Logan wiped the back of his hand over his bleeding lip. He narrowed his eyes confusedly as he chanced a cautious step forward. "What did you say?"

Kendall began to repeat himself, but stopped when something dark moved in his peripherals. He turned his head and saw nothing, but it had been there—a shadow. Just like the ones in Chris's eyes and across his face, just like the ones under the closet door. "Kendall," Logan panicked, snapping his fingers to catch the blond's attention. "Look at me."

Kendall slowly obeyed, feeling as though there were a hundred eyes on him.

The shorter boy spoke as though he were afraid of the answer. "Did you say no?"

Kendall didn't respond.

Letting out a sob of despair, Logan gripped his hair with both hands. "Oh, man, Kendall, you need help."

Another shadow darted into Kendall's vision. He whipped his head, trying to follow the ominous mass. When he realized his effort was in vain, he turned back to Logan. "What's wrong with you? Why are you crying?"

"Kendall, you need help," Logan wailed.

Bewildered, Kendall stiffened as Logan seized him by the shoulders, then gripped his shirt in a desperate attempt to keep Kendall focused. "I didn't mean to say I hated you," he murmured around his tears. "I swear I didn't mean to. Kendall, I'm sorry."

"Okay."

Logan refused to release his tight hold. Kendall was hardly aware; Logan, Carlos or James could have been speaking to him, but he didn't hear it. Fleeting shadows continued to dart around the edges of his vision. But it couldn't be Chris. It couldn't be. Chris was in jail, right?

Suddenly drained and exhausted, Kendall shut his eyes. Sweat rolled down every inch of his skin. In the dark world around him, screams and gunshots rang ceaselessly.

When his eyes opened and met Logan's, the noises were still there.