Hi, everyone. Before I say anything else, I wanted to recommend some BTR stories that I've been reading recently. Corrupt by Kames111, Sometimes We Forgive by downtonabbey15, Big Time Undead by Foundtoarvvie, and Make it Right by Rainbow Diamonds. If you're able to, check them out! They're all pretty great, in their own way. :)

Without further ado, here's the next chapter of Heart Stopping Comeback. I hope you enjoy. :)

Trigger warning for mentions of abuse.

"How long do you think it'll be until she wakes up?" James asked from where he stood by the foot of Mrs. Knight's hospital bed. He looked down at her motionless body, feeling a heaviness in his chest that he couldn't quite put into words. He tore his eyes away from her to stare at Logan, who sat on a chair beside her bed, to her left. Carlos sat to her right, head leaning against the back of his chair, eyes closed shut.

Logan shrugged and pushed himself to his feet. "She'll probably wake up soon."

"She's gonna be devastated," James said, choking on the last word.

Logan was quiet for a moment, as he moved to where James was, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "I know," he whispered, tears pricking at his eyes. "I'm gonna go see if there has been an update on Katie."

"Okay."

"I'll be back."

James nodded wordlessly and slipped into the chair Logan had previously been occupying. He sighed as he leaned his elbow against its armrest, cheek pressed against the palm of his hand.

Logan closed the door behind him, pressing his back against the wall beside it as he allowed his eyes to slip shut. The hallway outside was almost completely empty, aside from a couple of nurses that were talking amongst themselves a few feet away. He intended to only stand there for a moment, but he soon found himself sliding down the wall, until he met the floor. A quiet sob clawed up his throat, raw and painful, as a tear managed to make its way out of his left eye.

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching him, but he didn't open his eyes until he felt a hand land on his shoulder, a soft voice asking if he was okay. One of the nurses – one with dark brown skin, curly black hair, and warm brown eyes hidden behind round glasses – was staring at him with worry.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" she asked, but all he managed in response was a nod of his head, the words he wanted to say dying on the tip of his tongue. "Are you sure?"

This time, he couldn't even manage a nod. A ragged breath slipped past his lips, more tears running down his cheeks.

The door beside them was suddenly pulled open, and James poked his head out to see what was happening. His eyes immediately landed on Logan.

"Logan." He dropped to his knees in an instant, his hands pressing against Logan's shoulders, and then sliding down his arms, until they found his hands.

"You know him?" the nurse asked James.

James nodded, not tearing his eyes away from Logan. "Yeah, he's my best friend."

The nurse nodded, seeming unsure of what to do.

"Come on, Loges," James said, standing up on shaking legs and pulling Logan along with him.

"If either of you need anything, please let either of us know," she said, pointing towards the nurse she was talking to before. "We'll be here."

"Thank you," James said, finally turning to look at her. He gave her a small smile, before pulling Logan back into the room.

He helped Logan into the empty chair and kneeled down in front of him again. "Are you okay?"

Logan swallowed hard and briefly turned to look at Carlos, who was still sound asleep. "I… I don't know."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, I just—" Logan looked down at James, and then at his hands, which were clasped together on his lap. "How are we gonna find him, James?"

"There's not much we can do," James said quietly, laying one hand on top of Logan's. "But he'll be found."

"I hate not being able to do anything. I hate being stuck here. I hate that this even happened in the first place. I mean, how could things get so messed up in just a few days?"

"I don't know," James whispered. There were now tears swimming in his eyes too, just about ready to fall.

A small groan to their right caused both of them to snap their heads in that direction. Their eyes first landed on Carlos, but the smaller boy was sleeping, completely still.

"Where… Where am I?"

Their eyes then landed on Mama Knight, whose eyes were now tightly scrunched up, facial expression contorted into one of pain.

"Mama Knight," Logan said under his breath and rose from the chair before James could even move a muscle. He took Mrs. Knight's hand in his and gave it a small squeeze, his own hand shaking as it held on to hers.

"L-Logan?"

"Yeah, it's me. James and Carlos are here too. Are you in pain?"

"A-A little."

"Call someone," Logan told James, who stood up quickly, almost tripping over his own feet, and ran out the door.

"Logan?"

Logan froze at the sound of Carlos' voice. He slowly turned to look at him, his heart breaking at the look Carlos was sending in his direction. His eyes were blown wide, bottom lip slightly trembling.

'It's okay,' he mouthed, but it seemed to do nothing to put Carlos at ease.

"Where-Where am I?" Mrs. Knight repeated, earning Logan's attention once again.

"You're… in the hospital," Logan said slowly, unsure of what else to say.

Mrs. Knight stared at him in confusion for a moment, opening and closing her mouth, like she wanted to say something. But whatever it is that she wanted to say got cut off by the door suddenly opening. The nurse he had seen in the hallway just minutes before walked in through the door, James following closely behind her.

Logan stepped aside as the nurse began asking Mrs. Knight a couple of questions. He walked around the bed, to where Carlos was still seated, looking more still than Logan had ever seen him. He placed a hand around Carlos' arm, gently pulled him to his feet and to his side, wrapping one of his arms tightly around him.

"Hey, it's okay," he whispered as Carlos buried his face against Logan's shoulder, his tears dampening the fabric of his shirt.

"Maybe the two of you should step out," James whispered in Logan's ear.

Logan shook his head from side to side. "We can't leave her alone."

"I'll stay."

"But, James—"

"You go check on Katie. See if there's any news on her. I'll be fine."

"I don't want to leave you by yourself."

"I'll be okay, Loges. Seriously."

Logan's frown deepened as he tried to figure out what to do. On one hand, he didn't want to leave James and Mrs. Knight by themselves, especially not when she had just woken up. But on the other, he really needed to get away from there, and from the looks of it, so did Carlos.

"Okay," he said finally, "but we'll be right back."

James nodded. "I'll be here."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Logan pulled Carlos towards the door. He opened it, allowing Carlos to step out first. He took one last glance at James, before stepping out as well, into the brightly lit hallway.

When Logan and Carlos made it to the waiting room, they found Antonio, Kelly and Gustavo talking to a doctor. Not wanting to intrude, the two of them took a seat on some chairs that were behind them as they waited for the doctor to leave.

"...but if she only has a concussion, why would she have a seizure?" Kelly was asking.

"That can happen sometimes with concussions, too," the doctor responded. "That being said, she did need some stitches. Nothing too bad, though. It definitely could have been much worse. She's lucky."

Lucky? Logan thought, the frown on his face growing in size. Her brother was missing. Their father had taken him, hurt her and her mother in the process, and he thought she was lucky? The rational part of him knew what the doctor meant. She was lucky to not have sustained a worse injury. She was lucky to be alive, considering her father could have done worse things to her and her mother. But she was unlucky in so many other ways, and Logan couldn't help but feel anger at the doctor's words.

Seeming to sense his anger, Carlos gripped his wrist, grabbing his attention.

Logan bit on the inside of his cheek and turned his wrist over, so he could grab Carlos' hand.

It wasn't long before the doctor was gone and the two of them were standing up in anticipation.

"Is she okay?" he asked, to no one in particular, his gaze moving between the three adults in front of them.

"She will be okay," Kelly told them reassuringly. "She has a severe concussion, and—"

"A severe concussion?" Carlos asked, his fingers tightening around Logan's hand. "That sounds serious…"

"It can be serious," Kelly said, "if left untreated. That's why the doctors needed to run some tests on her, to make sure nothing else had happened."

"She should be able to go home in a few days," Antonio added. "The doctor wants to keep an eye on her, but she's awake now, and he said that we can see her. We just have to be gentle with her."

"Gentle?" Carlos asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

"We can't make a lot of noise or do anything that might make her feel worse," Logan said before anybody else could get a word out. "She's probably going to be in pain for a few days, even with the morphine."

"Oh." Carlos frowned at his words and pried his hand from Logan's. "Can we go get James? He'll probably want to see her too."

"Of course," Antonio said softly.

"Wait, what about Mama Knight?" Logan asked.

"What about her?" Antonio asked in confusion.

"She woke up, right before we came down here. James stayed with her."

Antonio let out a soft sigh and patted Logan lightly on the back. "I'll handle that. You boys go on ahead and see Katie. I'm sure she must be scared and could really use the company."

"Are you sure, papi?"

"I'm sure, Carlitos. I'll go on up and get James. The two of you can head over to her room, if you want."

After getting the room number from Antonio and asking the receptionist for instructions on how to get there, Carlos and Logan headed for the third floor.

"What are we gonna tell her?" Carlos asked as they entered the elevator. He pushed the button for the third floor and turned to Logan, who was leaning against the elevator's wall, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

"The truth," Logan said in a monotone voice. "There's not much else we can do."

"I know, it's just…" Carlos trailed off, his eyes locked on the door in front of them. "She shouldn't have to deal with any of this."

"I know," Logan said quietly just as the elevator gave a soft ding, indicating that they had arrived at the third floor. "But that's why it's important that we're here for her," he added, as they both walked out.

"Yeah, you're right," Carlos said with a sigh.

"Your dad said room 301, right?"

"I think so."

Logan nodded, and together, the two of them walked down the hallway, until they reached the end, where the room with those exact numbers was located.

"Ready?" Logan asked and reached for the doorknob.

Beside him, Carlos swallowed, and gave a firm nod. "Ready."

Kendall wanted to cry. He wanted to rip his hair out, watch it fall into clumps on the floor, and then step all over it. He wanted to punch a wall, to scream until his throat felt raw, to do something that would bring him some kind of release from the excruciating pain he felt on the inside.

It was now nighttime, and the only reason he knew that was because Trey and his father had gone to sleep, his father taking the bed and Trey sitting up on the chair in the corner of the small motel room. He, on the other hand, was still tied to the chair, the bandana once again wrapped around his head.

The ropes around his wrists dug into his skin, succeeding in keeping him in place. Instead of locking him back in the motel closet, his father had insisted on keeping him in the same room as him and Trey. As if Kendall would somehow be able to escape.

He thought he could. He thought he could come up with some kind of escape plan – break out of his restraints and find someone who would help, but deep down, he knew it wouldn't be that easy. It didn't help that he was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. He was pretty sure that if his wrists weren't tied to the chair, he wouldn't be able to hold his arms up. He hurt all over, and he knew it was bound to get worse from here.

He wanted to escape. He had the fleeting hope that maybe, just maybe, his mom and Katie were still alive. He knew his father lied, a lot. For years, he lied to his mother about who he was. He lied to Katie. He made them believe that he was the perfect husband, the perfect father, all while abusing their own son and brother when they weren't looking. He could never blame them, of course. They didn't know. He put on the perfect act, hit him in places where nobody would be able to see, for the most part. And whenever someone did see, Kendall lied to cover it up, because he too was a good liar, but they lied for different reasons. His father lied to cover up the horrible things he did to him. Kendall lied to protect his family from being hurt by him too. They were not the same.

But because he knew his father lied, he hoped that he had lied about his mom and Katie too, though him killing them is not something he would put past him. He was a horrible person that would do anything to get what he wanted, even if it meant hurting the people he supposedly loved at one point.

However, he knew that he wasn't going to be able to escape, at least not tonight. That was only confirmed further when he heard the rustling of bed sheets.

He opened his eyes to see his father sitting up in bed, his legs swinging over the edge of it. He grumbled something under his breath and then walked to where Trey was, shaking his shoulder with force.

The other man mumbled something in his sleep before bolting up in the chair, now appearing to be fully awake.

"We gotta go," his father said in a gruff voice, before making his way to the chair that Kendall sat in, motionless.

As Kenneth crouched down in front of him so he could untie his wrists from the chair's arms, Kendall couldn't help but flinch. Things didn't get much better when his father's hands made contact with his own. Nausea began to build up in his stomach.

He wanted to get out of there. He needed to get out of there.

Seeming to sense his panic, his father grinned but didn't look him in the eye.

With how tightly his wrists were tied, it took a few minutes for him to untie him from the chair, and for Kendall, those minutes seemed to be the longest ones of his life.

When he was finally free from the chair, his father turned to Trey, who was watching them from where he sat in the chair.

"Are you going to just sit there or are you going to help me?" he growled, pulling Kendall to his feet.

With his legs feeling weak, the teen lost his footing and almost crashed to the ground. He felt one of his father's arms wrap around him, catching him before he could do so. Instinctively, Kendall pulled his arm back and elbowed his father on the side.

A small gasp left Kenneth's lips, but it didn't take long for him to grab Kendall's arm and yank it towards him, causing Kendall's whole body to move in his direction.

"You are going to pay for that," he whispered in his ear, causing a chill to run down Kendall's spine.

"Tie his wrists together," he said to Trey, who hurriedly moved to where they were standing and proceeded to do as Kenneth said.

Feeling trapped between the two of them, Kendall knew there was nothing he could do. He simply kept his head down as Trey got to work. Tears pricked at his eyes as a rope was fastened around both wrists, causing them to feel even more sore than before, if that was even possible.

Once his wrists were tied together, his father grabbed his knife, from where he had set it on a small table near the bed, and held it up to Kendall's neck.

"Jackson, hand me the gun."

Jackson. Trey Jackson? Kendall pondered for a moment, before he saw the shiny weapon being placed into his father's open palm. For a moment, Kendall thought he was going to use it on him, but he was slightly relieved when his father just slid it into his holster. However, he knew that if prompted, his father wouldn't hesitate to use it on him.

"Open the door. Make sure there's nobody outside," he said to Trey.

The shorter man nodded and opened the door, peeking his head out for a few seconds, before stepping back inside. "The coast is clear."

Turning towards Kendall, his father nodded forward, the knife's sharp edge digging deeper against the side of his neck. "Move," he instructed.

Kendall swallowed and forced his legs to move towards the door. Outside, warm air and a dark sky greeted them.

Kenneth dug his hand into his jean's pocket, took out his car keys, and tossed them in Trey's direction. "Unlock it and start the car," he said.

Nodding, Trey did as Kenneth said and started walking towards the vehicle. Once the car had been unlocked, Kenneth pushed Kendall forward.

Kendall fought the urge to glare in his direction and forced his legs to move forward, until he was seated inside with the van, his father sitting next to him, too close for comfort.

"Am I driving again?" Trey asked from the front seat, a sigh slipping past his lips.

"Somebody has to keep an eye on him," his father said, tightening the hold he had around Kendall's arm.

Trey grumbled something under his breath but started up the car.

"You really thought you could escape me, didn't you?"

Kendall froze as he felt his father's warm breath against his skin. Feeling sick to his stomach, he pushed away from him and scooted as close to the window as he could manage.

Beside him, his father chuckled and reached for him, using his thumb and index finger to force Kendall to face him. "You will never be able to escape me," he said, before letting go of him and leaning back against his seat, as if nothing had even happened.

So… where could Trey and Kendall's dad be taking him? Anyone want to take a wild guess? There will be more of him in the next chapter (I hope), and also of Mama Knight and Katie.

Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you thought. :)

~ BigTimeRush-BTR :)