I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I hope you enjoy reading it. :)
Trigger warning for references to anorexia (although it's not mentioned, there are certain lines in the first scene that might allude to it) and anxiety.
"Hey, I brought you a muffin."
James looks up at the sound of Kendall's voice, his eyes landing on the blueberry muffin and bottle of apple juice that have been placed in front of him on the table. He feels his stomach sink at the sight of them, nausea making itself present. Despite this, he shoots Kendall a smile, but it vanishes once he takes a seat in front of him.
"You don't have to watch me like a hawk," he says quietly as he pinches off a small piece of the top of the muffin and brings it to his lips.
"Who said I was watching you?"
James rolls his eyes, holding back the urge to throw the muffin at Kendall's face. "You don't have to say anything. I know you."
Kendall seems to think over this for a minute, before leaning forward, with his arms pressed against the table, head in his right hand. "And I know you," he whispers. "I know when you're trying to hide something."
"Do you now?"
Kendall presses his lips together into a tight line. His eyes shift down to look at the table, as if he's unsure of what to say to that. "Look, James," he says slowly, while still not looking him in the eye, "I know things are hard right now, but I hope you know that you can come to us, for anything."
"I know–"
"Do you actually, though?" Kendall looks up this time, forcing James to look away.
James opens his mouth to respond, but it's as though he has forgotten every word he has ever learned, his mind going completely blank. He doesn't look up until Kendall has rested a hand on top of his, his fingers tightening around his own.
"I'm sorry," he finally manages, his voice cracking and eyes stinging. He blinks to get rid of the tears, but they keep coming and he can't do anything to stop them. Being aware of the fact that they're in the hospital cafeteria, surrounded by other people, he hides his face in his hands, wishing the earth would just swallow him whole right on the spot.
"Hey, it's okay." No sooner has Kendall said this that he's sitting right next to James, his arms wrapped tightly around him.
As much as he wants to pull away, James doesn't move away or try to get out of Kendall's grasp. Rather, he shifts his body so that he's leaning against Kendall, his head resting on his shoulder. Beside him, Kendall is whispering something in his ear, but he doesn't hear it due to his own sobs, that have him almost hyperventilating. He feels like he's choking; like everything around him is caving in on itself, and it's only a matter of time before it crushes him to pieces.
He almost hopes that it does.
"James–"
With a small gasp, James looks up at Kendall, taking in the look of fear in his green eyes. He tries to push away from him, but the hold Kendall has on him only tightens as he does this, so he allows his body to slump back into the familiar hold. His chest is still rising and falling noticeably, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He doesn't say anything, just tries to get his breathing back under control and allows his eyes to drift shut, even if only for a moment.
Even though Kendall doesn't say anything to him, he can feel his fingers carding through his hair, and he tries to relax against the touch. He tries to focus on that and nothing else.
"Are you okay?" Kendall asks once James' breathing is no longer coming out in harsh gasps, his hand moving from James' hair to wrap around his forearm.
"Yeah," James responds, though his eyes are still closed and his left hand is formed into a fist, clutching at Kendall's jacket. "I'm okay."
"Are you sure?"
Opening his eyes, James opens his mouth to respond. What he plans to say is, Yes, I'm sure, but the words catch in his throat, and what he says completely contradicts what he had been wanting to say.
"I feel like such a failure." He tears himself away from Kendall's grasp, putting at least a three-inch gap in between the two of them. "And I'm terrified. Terrified out of my mind. I mean, what if… what if Carlos doesn't get better? What if-What if he dies?"
Beside him, Kendall takes in a shaky breath and stares at his lap, his lips parting, but he says nothing. For once, the king of speeches has nothing to say.
"I'm sorry," James says after a moment of excruciating, awkward silence. "I'm just so tired."
"No."
"No?" James looks up in confusion, his eyebrows knitted tightly together. "What do you mean 'no'?"
"I mean, don't be sorry. You shouldn't be sorry. You have nothing to apologize for."
"But–"
Kendall holds up a hand to silence him and shakes his head. "You're allowed to say how you feel, James," he tells him. "Whether good or bad, you shouldn't have to hold anything back."
"Oh."
"And, you are in no way, shape or form a failure. I know it's easy to feel that way because of, well… everything, but it's not true."
James doesn't say anything – he doesn't think he'd be able to, even if he tried.
"I'm terrified, too. I don't want…" Kendall trails off then, using his left hand to wipe at his eyes. "I don't want him to die either. I mean, of course none of us want that, but… I guess now that the doctor's brought it up and his parents are starting to lose hope, it feels…"
"A lot more real?"
Kendall nods, surprised James had taken the words out of his mouth. "Yeah."
"I know what you mean. E-Every day I come in here, hoping there will be some kind of change, and every day there is none, it's like… it's like a piece of me dies. The hope just keeps shrinking and shrinking and shrinking… And I'm scared it'll keep happening, until there's none left."
Feeling a hand on his shoulder, James looks up, his heart wrenching at the look Kendall is giving him. He doesn't have to say anything for James to know that there's a war going on inside of him and that he is not as okay as he has let on for the past week.
"Thank you, for telling me."
James manages a nod, but he stays quiet. His hands, which are placed on top of the table, are shaking. He's cold all over and he feels sick, and deep down he knows it's probably a side effect of not sleeping or eating enough, but at the moment, he can't be bothered to care. His thoughts are consumed by Carlos and nothing else.
"James?"
"Yeah?"
"I know you don't want to, but… please eat something."
James opens his mouth to protest but decides against it and gives Kendall a smile. He doesn't know when something like smiling became a shield to hide the pain buried in the inside, and he doesn't know how something like eating – something that he needs to survive – became such a painful and near-impossible task.
"Sure." He feels his hands tremble even harder as he reaches for the muffin and takes a bite. As soon as it's in his mouth, he feels like spitting it out, not being able to handle the texture or the taste of it. Regardless of this, he forces himself to swallow it and take another bite, knowing fully well that Kendall is watching him, even if he says that he isn't. The knowledge of that alone has his anxiety skyrocketing and does nothing to diminish the upset feeling in his stomach. He feels like he's being watched through the lens of a microscope at all times, not just by Kendall but by Logan as well. And while he knows that his friends are just doing it because they care, he can't help but think that his problems are nothing compared to the bigger problem at hand; that the one they should be worrying about is Carlos and not him.
"Where's Logan?" he asks, trying to divert the attention away from himself.
"I think he said he was going to see Carlos," Kendall replies with a shrug of his shoulders. "I think he needs some space."
"Space?"
"Yeah." Kendall frowns, his gaze shifting to the table. "I asked him if he wanted me to come along, but he said he was fine."
"Do you believe that?" James puts the muffin down, feeling even more nauseous now. He had noticed the way Logan had been distancing himself from the two of them, and while Logan had always been very introverted and independent, he knew there was more to it than that.
"Honestly?" Kendall fidgets where he's sitting, maneuvering his body so that he's facing James. "No."
"Maybe we should go check on him."
"Maybe," Kendall says, eyeing James suspiciously, "once you finish your muffin."
"But I'm full…"
Kendall sighs and runs a hand through his hair in frustration, as if unsure if he should keep pushing James or not. "You did eat more than half of it," he says after a moment, though it doesn't sound like he's satisfied. "Alright, let's go."
Though James should feel relieved, he feels a sudden pang in his chest. He can see the disappointment in Kendall's eyes, in the way his shoulders slump, defeated. He wants to say he's sorry, wants to make things okay, somehow. He wants to make him happy, but he can't, and it feels like it's all his fault.
"It's okay," Kendall says once he has stood from his seat, as if having read James' mind.
James swallows hard, grabs the remaining piece of muffin, and throws it into a nearby trashcan. He then grabs the bottle of apple juice Kendall had given him earlier, which he had yet to uncap, and stuffs it into the pocket of his jacket before following Kendall out of the cafeteria.
Logan's head is buzzing as he starts the walk to Carlos' hospital room, his mind jumping from one thought to another. He would probably be able to find his way to the room with a blindfold on by now, after being there so many times since Carlos was admitted.
When he arrives, he stands in front of the door awkwardly, unsure if he should go in or not. Carlos' parents are most likely inside, still talking to Carlos' doctor, and he doesn't want to interrupt. With a sigh, he leans against the wall beside the door and lets his back slide against it, until he's sitting on the floor. His knees are drawn up to his chest almost instantly, his arms moving to rest on top of them.
Despite it being only a little past ten in the morning, the hospital is already quite busy, with patients being wheeled past corridors and nurses and doctors rushing to aid those in need. He watches the people all around him with a blank expression on his face, his heart feeling heavy in his chest. He's torn between feeling nothing and feeling everything all at once. It's like a switch is constantly being turned on and off inside of him, and there is nothing he can do to stop it from happening.
"Logan? Sweetheart, are you okay?"
He jumps at the familiar voice, his eyes travelling upwards to meet warm brown ones. Sylvia, Carlos' mom, is standing in front of him, a concerned look on her face. He can't help but notice the bags under her eyes, the tiredness in her posture. It's as though someone has sucked all the happiness from inside her, and that realization hurts to think about, because for as long as he's known her, she has always been a cheery, heartwarming person, full of life. Now, when he looks at her, he can barely recognize the person standing there.
"I'm fine," he says as he pushes himself up on shaky legs and hugs her. "How are you?" he asks once they have parted.
At the question, her eyes flood with tears, causing him to feel instant regret. "I'm sorry." Unsure of what to do, he pulls her back into his arms, feeling her shake against his hold. He wants to do something to take away her pain – to take everybody's pain away – but he knows there's nothing he can really do.
"Logan."
This time, it's Carlos' dad who has spoken, having just emerged from inside the hospital room. His hair is disheveled, and his eyes are red-rimmed. He looks lost and absolutely heartbroken as he pulls his wife against his side, leaving Logan to stand there awkwardly.
"D-Did something happen?" He hears the unsteadiness in his own voice, can practically hear the drumming of his heart in his ears, convinced it'll beat out of his chest any second now.
Antonio, Carlos' dad, shakes his head, and Logan is unsure if he should feel relief or dread at the action.
"You can go in and see him."
"Are you sure?"
Antonio nods his head. "Yes. I think we need a break, anyway."
Logan nods in understanding and pushes the door open with one hand. He manages one soft "thank you" in return, before forcing his feet to move inside the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
Once inside, he takes a seat on the chair next to Carlos' hospital bed, after pushing it so that it's as close to the bed as possible. He grips Carlos' hand in his own, the skin feeling clammy and the hand feeling like dead-weight in his hold.
"It's day nine," he chokes out the words as he keeps his eyes on the light blue blanket covering Carlos, not wanting to look at his face. The bruising has gone down noticeably, but there are still scratches covering it from when his face hit the pavement when he was hit. "Everybody misses you and wants you to get better. You-You need to get better, alright?"
Aside from the constant beeping coming from Carlos' heart monitor, nothing but silence follows.
"Your mom and dad talked to your doctor. They… they don't know if you'll wake up. But, Carlos, you need to wake up. You need to." He's crying now, tears streaming down his face at a rapid face.
Behind him, he hears footsteps nearing the bed, and then feels two hands on his shoulders. A sob disrupts the silence in the room, and it takes him a moment to realize that it came from him as he throws himself at the person behind him, holding on for dear life.
"I've got you." It's Kendall, his arms now wrapped tightly around him, holding up most of his weight. "It's okay."
"I want him t-to wake up. I need him to wake up. I can't–" He takes in a huge gulp of air, but it doesn't help. It feels like his lungs are on fire – like every part of him is on fire and there's nothing that will put out the flames. "I can't do this anymore."
Suddenly, there's another pair of arms around him, sandwiching him in between the person they belong to and Kendall. Logan doesn't have to look up to know it's James.
It's moments later when he finds himself sitting back on the chair beside Carlos' bed, his usually-spiked hair matted to his forehead. From the corner of his eye, he watches as James takes a seat on the chair on the other side of the bed, his expression blank and unreadable.
"You okay?" he asks, eyeing the other boy.
"I'll be okay." James doesn't look up as he says this, his eyes glued to Carlos' face, until he opens his mouth to speak again. "Are you?"
"I'm fine."
"You know," James rises from his seat and sits down on the very edge of the hospital bed, right in front of Logan, "ever since this whole thing started, you're the one who's managed to hold it together better than any of us… And I guess all I want to say is, it's okay to not be okay, Logan. No one expects you to be."
"I could say the same thing to you."
"Yeah, I know." James sighs, his arms moving to wrap around himself. "I guess we've all been… a bit distant from each other lately."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too."
"I guess I just…" Logan trails off, his shoe pressing hard against the floor to stop his knee from bouncing up and down as anxiety takes over, though the action doesn't do much to help. "I don't know. I guess I just thought I could handle it all on my own."
"You don't have to." James' voice is soft, his eyes glassy. It looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn't, and Logan doesn't push him.
"Mom's leaving," Kendall says, suddenly appearing in the doorway with the car keys clutched in one hand. He had stepped out of the room a minute prior, when his mom had shown up. "I think I'm gonna head out, too."
James and Logan share a look, before the two of them stand up, their gazes immediately turning to Carlos.
Logan watches as James gives Carlos' hand a squeeze and then walks to where Kendall is standing near the door.
Kendall then moves to stand by Carlos' bedside, leans down, and places a kiss on Carlos' bandaged forehead. "Bye, Litos," he says softly, a stray tear slipping out of his right eye. He's quick to wipe it away as he steps back to look at Carlos one last time. "We'll be back later."
"I think I'm gonna stay," Logan says abruptly, not looking Kendall in the eye.
"Are you sure? I can stay a bit longer, if you want..."
"No." He shakes his head and forces a smile onto his face. "I'll grab a taxi back home."
Kendall heaves a heavy sigh, his left hand running through disheveled, dark blond hair. "Okay," he says uneasily, the frown on his face still present. "But call us if you need us to pick you up, okay?"
"I will."
Kendall nods and walks out of the room, with James on his heels. Logan waits until they're gone and the door has closed behind them to sit back down, moving his head to rest against Carlos' chest. He allows his eyes to drift shut then, exhaustion threatening to pull him under.
It's when he's in the verge of falling asleep that he hears it – a small groan that has him raising his head in surprise, his heart feeling as if it's beating three times as fast as normal.
He lets out a shuddery breath as his eyes turn in the direction of the noise, meeting dark brown eyes that are a shade darker than his own. For a second, he's quiet, a lump having formed in the middle of his throat. Then, without a second thought, he's pressing the call button beside the hospital bed, with tears welling up in his eyes as he lets a single word escape his lips.
"Carlos?"
So... it only took twenty chapters, huh? Way longer than planned. To those of you who have stuck with this story up until now, thank you. I started this story when I was in a really dark place, and it's truly been a cathartic experience for me. I've put a lot of myself into this story - my experiences and emotions - and although there are a lot of things I wish I could change about it, it is easily one of my favorite stories I've ever written.
Things may seem bleak right now, but they will get better - and I mean that in reference to the story, as well as to any one of you who needs to hear it.
Once again, thank you for sticking with this story. I appreciate you all more than I can put into words.
~ BigTimeRush-BTR :)
