A/N. I'm going to try and finish C51 early today and then upload it tonight. Then hopefully, the last chapter tomorrow before I go away. If not, I'll do it wjen I get back. Anyway, special favor to ask: We're closing in on 900 reviews. Think we can do it? I love you guys. -heart- I don't own anything.
"Logan!" James stared in horror at his best friend. Logan was on his knees on the carpeted floor, his face pressed to the ground, and his fingers digging into his scalp, pulling at his short hair. He was screaming in sheer agony. "Logan, look at me! What's wrong? What's the matter?"
Logan didn't answer him. Instead he twisted away from the hands James had set on his shoulders and lay there, writhing in pain. James caught a glimpse of his face, drained of all color and filled with something he didn't understand. He had released his hair with one hand and was now pressing that fist up against his right eye. "Ja-" he started to speak and then cut himself off with a sharp intake of air. His other hand shot out and grabbed at James, pulling at his shirt. "Help," he finally managed to get out through gritted teeth.
"What?" James cried frantically. "What do I do?" He winced slightly when Logan suddenly found his hand and held it in a death grip. "Logie, please." he whispered, fear making his eyes water.
Instead of answering him, Logan screamed again and let go of James to curl into a fetal position. The right side of his face was exposed and James could see that his eyelid was drooping a bit, the area underneath it red and teary looking. Sobs shook the smaller boy's body and he convulsed slightly as if he was suffering from a seizure.
It was the spasmodic jerking of Logan's body that convinced James to leave his friend. He jumped to his feet and pounded over to where they kept the land line. He yanked the phone from its cradle, sending a nearby dish crashing to the floor, spraying glass everywhere.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"My best friend," James rattled off, now in tears himself. "I don't know what's wrong with him. I think it's his head. He's in so much pain. Please-" A dull thud interrupted James and he turned just in time to see Logan lift his head and slam it into the floor for a second time. "Logan, no!" he yelled. Panicked, he dropped the phone and ran back to his friend's side. "Logan, don't do that! You'll hurt yourself!"
"St-stop," Logan groaned, his forehead covered in a sheen of sweat. "Make it s-stop, James. P-please!" Instead of trying to hit his head again, Logan practically climbed into James' lap, twisting his fingers in the cotton t-shirt. Instantly James' shoulder was soaked with tears "Help m-me,"
James held Logan in his arms, trying in vain to stop the violent tremors. He was torn, uncertain as to whether he should stay or go make sure that his emergency call went through. "Logan," he whispered, as he sought in vain to comfort his friend. "I'm here, Logan. I'm right here."
"James," Logan sobbed. He fumbled around and found James' hand again, gripping it tightly. "It h-hurts so m-much!"
"Shhh," James murmured, growing desperate. "Help is coming. Just hang in there, okay?" Thankfully, he was telling the truth and there was a sharp knock at the door before paramedics stormed into the room. They quickly assessed the situation and set about laying a stretcher out for Logan. James unwillingly backed up and watched helplessly from afar, tears streaming down his face.
"Coming?" one of the men asked kindly. He helped James to his feet and put a caring arm around the distraught boy's shoulder. He steadied him when he staggered and walked with him all the way out to the waiting ambulance and then helped him in the back.
James settled in quickly, and took Logan's hand. He swallowed hard and watched as his friend fought against his restraints, trying to somehow escape the pain. Tentatively, James smoothed back his damp hair from his forehead. "Almost there, Logan," he soothed, feeling far from soothed himself. "Just a little longer."
Logan's teeth were ground tightly together, grimacing. He no longer seemed to be aware of James' presence and could only grip the sheets tightly. A cry of pain escaped from between his lips and he bit the bottom one so hard that blood appeared. "Please," he moaned, focusing slightly on one of the paramedics.
"All right, sweetie," the one woman in the back with them took his free hand and rubbed it in her hands. "Almost there. Then we'll get you some help."
"W-when?" Logan asked, his voice pleading, begging. "H-how much l-longer?" A strong spasm hit him and he cried out, arching his back as far as the restraints would allow him.
James couldn't believe that it was happening yet again. For the fourth time in a year, Logan was being taken to the hospital in the back of the ambulance. James didn't know what was happening or what would happen and perhaps that was what made it so horrible. To see Logan in so much agony when he usually had a fair tolerance for pain was nightmarish. The short ride to the hospital seemed ten times longer than usual. By the time they had arrived, Logan had become oblivious to anything but the searing headache that had come out of nowhere. But he had stopped screaming and crying and even taking. He had taken on a glassy eyed expression, staring into nothingness as if he was delirious.
James gave his hand one last squeeze and then gently set it over his chest. Then, helpless to do anything else, he stepped aside and let the paramedics wheel him out of sight. He barely made it to a chair himself before he collapsed. He shook so hard, that a woman waiting in the ER with what appeared to be a broken hand, informed the receptionist that there was a boy having a seizure. "I'm fine," he said, brushing concerned hands away. "It's my best friend."
He had no idea how long he waited but it actually didn't seem that long. Time didn't seem to exist from the time Logan had been taken away from him to the time James finally saw Doctor White walking his way. He didn't bother standing up knowing that his legs wouldn't support him. He waited.
"James," the kind man rushed to ease his fears. "Logan is perfectly fine right now. Is his family here?"
His family. James hadn't called anyone. They were probably back at the apartment, worried sick. "Um, no." he said shakily. "I never actually thought of it. I don't have my cell phone with me either. Can I- can I please just see Logan now?"
"Yes, of course. I'll have a nurse call the Knights. James, before I take you to see Logan, I need to tell you something." Doctor White pulled a chair closer and sat down in front of James. "What I'm about to tell you is not going to be easy to hear," he cautioned. "But I can assure you that Logan's condition is not technically speaking, life threatening."
"Condition," James repeated heavily. "What do you mean that it's not technically speaking life threatening?"
The doctor sighed and touched James on the shoulder. "I'm afraid that Logan just suffered from what is known as a cluster headache. Put simply, cluster headaches are recurring headaches that often cause the victim debilitating pain."
"Recurring?"
"I'm afraid that the reason they are called cluster headaches is because they can come and go several times a day for several weeks at a time before the victim goes through a period of pain free rest." Doctor White fell silent, waiting for James to respond.
"You mean," James said, dragging in a ragged breath. "That this will happen to Logan for the rest of his life? More than once a day for. . . weeks or even months at a time?" This could not be possible. This wasn't possible. It absolutely could not be happening to Logan. "Isn't there anything you can do?"
"There are steroids and other medications that he can take that will help him cope," Doctor Walsh said quickly, hoping to ease the pain in James' eyes by giving him some hope to hold onto. "But at present, there is no known cure for cluster headaches. Just treatment. It's a lifelong condition."
James felt like he was falling through empty space. There was a heavy weight, crushing his lungs. "Is this. . ." he started. "Because of the accident?"
Doctor Walsh shrugged. "There's actually no way of knowing for sure. To be perfectly blunt, I wouldn't be all that surprised if the accident was the cause. Logan has dealt with a significant amount of head trauma. However, the fact that this is happening now instead of just after the accident. . . well, unfortunately, cluster headaches can happen to anyone. So it may not be a result of the accident."
"It probably is," James whispered. "How is he now?" He couldn't fall apart yet. He needed to be strong for Logan. "I need to see him, please."
Doctor Walsh nodded and stood up. "Come with me." As they walked down the hall, he kept a careful eye on James' questionable balance while filling him in on Logan's current state. "As I said before, he's just fine right now. He's completely drained and exhausted but that's to be expected. He should be resting, sleeping even, but we'll see. I wouldn't be surprised if he was waiting for you." They stopped in front of a closed door and Doctor Walsh opened it slowly, telling James that the others would be informed shortly.
James nodded, whispered an automatic thanks, and stepped into the room. He couldn't help but cringe when he saw Logan laying in the hospital bed. His face was gray with exhaustion, the spark in his brown eyes gone and exchanged for red rimmed and swollen lids. A tiny smile transformed his dreadful appearance a little bit but it didn't last. It was as if it were too great an effort for him to keep up. "Hey," he whispered, his voice hoarse from screaming and crying. Slowly, he lifted one hand, and eyes on James, beckoned weakly.
James reached the bed in only a few long strides and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Carefully, as if his friend was made of the most fragile kind of glass, he leaned forward and brought Logan into his arms. He felt Logan lay limply in his embrace and tears filled his eyes when he realized how little strength the other boy had left. "Logie," he whispered as tears began to run down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Logan."
Logan had his eyes closed, resting in the safe circle of James' arms. He heard his friend crying and wanted so badly to comfort him. But his headache had drained him of nearly all his strength and it was only because James was holding onto him that he could remain upright at all. "Jay," he managed weakly. "It's okay now."
But James shook his head, using all of his self-control to keep from crying harder. "No it's not," he disagreed. "It's not okay, Logan. You were in so much pain and it's just going to keep happening over and over again. It'll never be okay again."
"Shhh," Logan soothed wearily. "I'll be okay though as long as I'm not alone." Using what little energy he could work up, Logan tipped his head to look up at James, his expression fearful and uncertain. "Please don't leave me, James. I need you. We all do. Please don't leave us after all this time and everything that's happened."
Again, James shook his head but this time it was to ease his friend's fears. "Logie," he whispered, lifting a hand to run his fingers very carefully through the matted dark hair on Logan's forehead. "I'm sorry I ever thought I could leave you. I'll always be here for you. I'll always take care of you. I promise."
Sighing in relief, Logan closed his eyes again and rested his head on James' chest. "Thank you," he whispered, grateful tears filling his eyes. "That makes everything okay, James."
"But you-" James started to say.
"No," Logan shook his head and then released James to lay back down. "Let's not talk about anything right now, James. It hurts you too much and I'm too tired. You look horrible," he shifted very slightly in the bed and patted the empty space.
James climbed onto the bed and instantly wrapped Logan in his arms. "Okay," he whispered. "The others will be here soon. Close your eyes and get some rest for now, okay?"
Logan nodded wearily, his eyes already closing. "Thanks for staying me, James. It helped to know that you were there."
Though Logan had been unaware of him for part of the attack, James felt just a little reassured. "Okay, Logie." he replied softly. "I meant that I said before. I always will be with you to take care of you."
"I know," Logan said as his eyes fluttered shut. He laid his head on James' shoulder and exhausted from his attack and now relaxed with James at his side, he was asleep within seconds.
While he slept, James held him, watching over him. He wondered when the others would arrive. He wondered when Logan's next attack would be. He wondered how much the medication would help. He wondered why he couldn't seen to have a happy birthday anymore.
It wasn't long before the others arrived, rushing into the room as quietly as possible. Mrs. Knight went instantly to the bed and began stroking Logan's hiar soothingly, careful not to wake the sleeping boy. Katie went to her side and watched with wide, tearfilled eyes. Carlos went over to the other side of the bed where James was and looked over both of his friends with a solemn expression on his weary face. "Are you guys okay now?" he asked quietly.
James shrugged lightly. "As good as we could ever be, I guess." he whispered, his voice sounding haunted even to his own ears. "Carlos. . . Carlos, it was so awful. He was in so much pain. Did. . . Did Doctor White talk to you?"
Mrs. Knight nodded sorrowfully. "He told us everything," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. "Let's just do what we have been doing and take one step at a time, okay?"
"Okay," James nodded and then looked over at Kendall who was still standing in the doorway, his eyes rivited on Logan. "Kendall, are you okay?" he asked, suddenly concerned for his older friend.
Kendall's eyes never moved from Logan as he gave the tiniest shake of his head. "No," he whispered. "L-Logan-" Suddenly, a sob interrupted Kendall and he turned and fled from the room.
At first, no one moved, too in shock to react right away. Then, everyone moved. "I'll talk to him," James said quietly. "You guys stay with Logan since you haven't seen him yet." He carefully eased Logan's head from his shoulder to the pillows and got off the bed. "We'll be right back," he promised, smiling slightly when Carlos immediately took his place on the bed next to Logan. "Thanks, buddy." Then, with one last look at the now peaceful Logan, he turned and hurried after Kendall.
He didn't have to go far at all. Kendall was right outside the room, sitting on the floor, crying. He was shaking hard with sobs and at first glance, all James could remember was when Logan had first woken up with his brain injury and Kendall had left the room in tears. It was exactly the same. Then, he shook himself a little and knelt down beside his best friend. "Kendall," he whispered.
"J-James," Kendall stammered. "He l-looks so a-awful!" He shut his eyes in an attempt to block the image of Logan from his mind. The sickly grayish cast to his face, the red, swollen areas around his eyes, the pinched look on his forehead as if he was, even in sleep, afraid of the pain returning. He had never seen something so frightening. Even when he had been in a coma, Logan hadn't looked quite so horrible.
"I know," James said quietly. "But Kendall, he looks a lot better." Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because Kendall cried even harder. Swallowing, James reached out a put a hand on a trembling shoulder. "Kendall," he said gently. "He's going to wake up soon. I think it'll help him to have all off us there."
But Kendall shook his head, almost frantically. "I c-can't," he said, his voice still broken. "James, I can't go in there and be strong for him right now. I just can't. I can't see him so weak and. . . I can't be strong this time. I'm too scared right now."
James knew exactly how Kendal felt. But he knew something that Kendall didn't know. "Hey," he said gently, his voice a little bit stronger. "Kendall, listen to me for a second. Look at me, buddy." He waited until Kendall had lifted his head from where it had been buried in his folded arms and then smiled encouragingly. "Listen," he repeated. "Right now , Logan doesn't need you to be strong for him. Right now, he just needs you to be there for him. Okay?"
Kendall nodded and took a deep breath. "Okay." he paused to wipe at his face and then stood up slowly, letting James help him. "Thanks, James."
"Ready?" James asked patiently.
"Ready." Kendall took another deep breath and straightened his shoulders, determined to be as strong as he could for as long as he could. The strength lasted until he walked through the door and saw Logan, awake this time, but looking like he was dying. "Logie," he whispered.
Logan turned from facing Carlos to look toward the door. A smile inched its way across his face. "Hey, Kendall," he whispered.
Kendall slipped out from under James' supporting arm and crossed the room. His mother and Katie moved away so that he could sit on the edge of the bed and pull Logan into a gentle embrace. Sobs that felt like they were tearing him apart, shook them both and he started to pull away from Logan.
"No," Logan protested, holding on as much as his strength would allow. "I'm okay now, Kendall."
As much as Kendall doubted him, he stopped trying to pull away and held onto the other boy as he cried. Everything hurt so badly, his heart, his lungs, his eyes, burning from the constant stream of tears. He couldn't believe that this was happening to Logan. To all of them. Hadn't they had enough heartache in the past year to last them a lifetime? The thought of Logan, his best friend, his younfer brother, facing a life filled with excruciating pain, was almost too much for him to bear. There wasn't a thing he could do about it either and that made everything so much worse.
Logan caught yet another glimpse of the pain his friends and family had suffered in the past year. That awful, crushing helplessness and fear that brought down even the strongest of them. He hadn't seen Kendall cry so much since the boys were eleven and his parents had divorced. He was scared too. He was scared of so much. Scared because only a few weeks ago he had woken up and been informed that for nearly a year, he had lived with a severe brain injury that had made him talk, act, and think like a six-year-old boy. Scared because he had missed out on a whole year of his life. Scared because everyone had suffered so much. Scared because at any moment, the pain in his head could return, without warning. There was so much to be scared about.
At last, Kendall stopped crying and simply held onto Logan while he cried because everything was so horribly blurry and confusing and terrifying for him. His thoughts were the same as everyone in the room. When would Logan get another headache? It was only a matter of time. Time, Kenda decided right then and there, was the most terrifying thing that existed.
"Can we please go home?" Logan asked, his voice still a mere whisper.
"We can if you want, sweetie." Mrs. Knight said. "I can get the medications you need right away and according to Doctor White, they'll help. But it won't be as good as what they can give you here. Would you rather wait a few days?"
Logan shook his head carefully. "Please," he said softly. "I just want to go home. I'm tired of being in the hospital." Tears had filled his eyes. He didn't want to face the inevitable pain again. To become unaware of everything but the torment. He didn't know when it would happen or how well his medications would help and that was yet another thing to be scared about. But for the time being, all he wanted was to just be home.
"I'll go get the doctor then," Mrs. Knight stood up and kissed Logan on the forehead. "I'll be right back."
Logan sighed and rested his head on Kendall's shoulder. "I'm afraid," he finally admitted aloud to all of them.
"We know, Logie." Carlos murmured. "We are too." There was nothing he could really say that would make a difference or make Logan feel any better. Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his face. "We're right here though," he managed to add.
"That helps," Logan assured him with a tiny smile. "More than anything else, even the medications."
Doctor White and Mrs. Knight reappeared with a wheelchair then. Without a word, Kendall stood up and lifted Logan into his arms, ignoring the weak protest he got from his startled and embarrassed friend. He set him gently, carefully, into the chair and then took his place behind it, ready to take Logan home.
"All right, Logan." Doctor White said gently. "I've given your mother a prescription for some very strong pain killers. They should help make the headaches a little more bearable. But you have to be very careful with them. Follow the instructions exactly, all right? No matter how much you may be tempted to take another one, you can't do that. The pills are very strong. Also, don't do anything strenuous after you take them. They'll make you extremely drousy. It's probably best if you laid down and rested as much as possible. If the pills don't help at all, come here and we'll help you out. There are other medications to treat cluster heaches, we just have to find the one that works best for you. In the meantime, don't be ashamed to come in and get something from us. It'll be safe and monitored very carefully, all right?"
"Thank you," Logan said gratefully. "For everything."
Doctor White nodded and put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Good luck," he said softly. "You're an incredibly strong young man and you have the support of some amazing people. I have faith that you'll be just fine no matter what happens."
So, armed with a presciption that they were all praying would work, the boys and the Knight family left the hospital, relieved that Logan was alive and well all things considered, but weighted down by the despair of what was still to come.
A/N. TWO MORE CHAPTERS! Then I'll get to work on wrapping up "How to Save a Life". That should have about twelve chapters left.
