Disclaimer: I'd like to point out that I do not and I never will own Big Time Rush, Kendall Schmidt, Logan Henderson, Carlos Pena, Jr., and James Maslow. I do own, however, Catalina "Cat" Aragon, Michael and Andres, and Junior Detective Keller. I semi-own Detective Spencer.

Author's Note: Please enjoy my first official Big Time Rush Fan-fiction. It was originally going to be 84. Out Cold of the 100 themes challenge I'm doing for Big Time Rush, but it expanded to something much more than that.

Downhill From Here

Chapter 6

Mikkal

James rested his elbows on his knees and ran a shaking hand through his hair, the adrenaline rush of "rescuing" Logan finally leaving him and making him feel drained. He should just go to sleep so he was rested up for the horrible days (or hours, hopefully hours) he had ahead of him waiting for Michael to be caught, but he wanted to be awake to see Logan open his eyes and smile.

If he smiled, pain doesn't usually make people smile.

"Why would someone do something like this?" Carlos muttered, he regretted asking what the hell was going on. "Did he target Logan? Was it random?"

"I'd rather have it be random than anything else," Kendall admitted. "I don't think any of us could handle if he was actually aiming for Logan."

Carlos and Logan: babies. Kendall and James: protectors. Logan: Everything in their world. It was weird, because no one back home expected Logan to stay in their group for long, but eventually they shocked everyone when they went from second grade to high school closer than ever.

And it was really thanks to Logan.

Kendall was the leader and over-protector, James kept them slightly on track and was the co-leader, and Carlos was the fun and smile. Logan? Logan was the one who calmed everyone down with things got a little out of hand, who listened without judging, who was the rock whenever something bad happened, who was as wild and crazy as the rest of them when he wanted to be, he was everything that could be perfect for the group.

Sure, he had his screw ups, but they all did. They were human.

Logan was their best friend, their brother, sometimes he couldn't see that but they knew the truth and they hoped to get Logan to see that one day.

"I just know I want to strangle Michael's neck," Jame squeezed the back of his neck. "Is that bad? Does that make me down to his level?" He asked fearfully, wide hazel eyes looked at his friends for them to deny it.

"No!" Kendall exclaimed. "Not at all, we all feel the same way." He clenched his hands into fists, James had no idea how much he was having similar thoughts to strangling that jerk-butt. Actually, he was thinking more like...dissemination. And he even voiced that out loud—"Scatter him around, so no one could ever find him again."

"Wow," Logan joked softly. "I didn't even know you knew what that meant."

"Logan!"

He winced and rubbed his throbbing head, at least his headache went from playing Boyfriend to I Know You Know...though he wasn't sure if there was much of a difference. "Who do you want to disseminate?"

The guys had fallen silent when Logan winced and now they were just plain uncomfortable. In all honesty, they didn't want to tell him the truth. But then again, he didn't like it when people lied.

"Michael," James finally said.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "The stable hand? What does he have to do with any of this?"

"He's the one who put the wrong bit in your horse's mouth and let us go on the wrong trail," Kendall explained. "Something about hating us because he tried to get a deal with Gustavo but got turned down, then we got it a could years later. Not to mention, he's just crazy!"

"Oh."

"'Oh?'" James repeated in disbelief. "That's all you can say? Man, you were seriously hurt all 'cause of him, there's gotta be more than just 'oh.'"

He looked up at them. "I just dunno what to say. Do you guys know why it was my horse?"

"No," Carlos spoke for the first time since he woke up. "The LAPD are looking into that right now." He grabbed his friend's hand. "Logan...are you okay?" He had to know, he needed to know.

Logan gave him a small smile. "A little sore, but I feel fine."

"That's good to hear," the doctor said, walking in with a clipboard. "You should really thank your friend here, he did an amazing job of taking care of you while you two were lost."

"I know." Logan's smile got wider and he squeezed the younger teen's hand. "Thanks Carlos," he said softly.

The doctor nodded. "Okay. Your arm is dislocated but pretty cleanly. Your fall out of the tree made it worse than it was going to be but if Mr. Garcia hadn't caught you then you'd have a broken leg, possibly a fracture in your spinal cord."

He semi-ignored the way three of the boys tensed up, Logan just looked confused. "Your back is fine, several deep bruises and it's going to be sore for a while but it'll be fine. You also got a rather serious concussion, but considering the fact you were coherent for everything and could remember what you should remember we decided to let you sleep, we checked your pupils every two hours though."

Logan frowned. "If I remember everything that I should remember then why can't I remember Carlos 'catching me?' Why did he have to catch me?" He turned to his friends. "Guys?"

Tears suddenly came to his eyes, Carlos gripped Logan's hand tighter. "You were hurt and...and there were wolves...there was no where else to go so I...I got us in a tree but...but you fell and I caught you. You arm," he swallowed. "You said your arm was sprained...earlier...but when I caught you...it...it..." His breath caught painfully.

God. He could remember how awful Logan's scream—shriek—was, the tears, the blood, everything.

"Shh," Logan soothed. "It's okay. I'm going to be fine. And you heard the doctor, if you hadn't caught me then I'd be in a wheelchair with either broken legs or a broken spine. And neither of those sound very pleasant." He teased that last part, hoping to brighten the mood.

He chuckled at the teasing tone. "No, they don't," he muttered.

"Your guardian had been inform that you've waken up and she'll be here in a little bit to see how you're doing," the doctor said. "Boys, I'm sorry but visiting hours will end in a few. And I can't make exceptions if Mr. Mitchell isn't in serious condition."

Kendall nodded, he understood completely even if he didn't like it. "Makes sense. We'll be sure to leave exactly five minutes later than we should, ten minutes at the most." He flashed a sickeningly mock smile at him, exaggerating his looks...the eyebrows helped a bit whether he wanted them to or not.

That made Logan laugh, which encouraged Carlos to laugh, and it turn gave the two older teens a chance to smile. Everything was much more depressing when Carlos was sad.

The doctor, even with all of his medical glory, rolled his eyes, a grin on his face, and left.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Logan grabbed his head with his free hand. "Note to self, no laughing." He moved to rub his shoulder gently. "So, have they caught Michael?"

"Wh-What makes you think they haven't?" James asked, startled.

He gave them a look that said really? "'Cause you guys are more depressed than you usually are when someone gets hurt and you would've mentioned it earlier. Also, and I quote 'What makes you think they haven't?' Who says that when they have?"

Kendall smiled wryly, Logan's logic never failed, but frowned seconds later. "No, we had him but he knocked Andre out and got away."

"Great," Logan groaned. He hated being out of the loop, it made him feel like everything's been explained millions of times over. He glanced at the too pale, too quiet Carlos.

"Hey Kendall." James grabbed his friend's shoulder and started tugging him out of the room. "Come on, I'm thirsty and you're the only one with money besides Logan."

Logan watched them go with a small smirk on his face, James always knew when to leave so someone could have a 'heart to heart' (or, as Katie liked to call them, 'chick flick moments'). He turned to Carlos, the smirk melting into worry lines on his forehead. "Carlos, are you okay? You're kinda quiet."

The younger teen stared at him in disbelief. "You're really asking that?" Tears came to his eyes again. Logie," he choked out. "I don't think you realize how awful it was to see you like that. You looked...you looked dead."

"But I'm not," he reminded him. "I'm not dead. And, like I said, I'm going to be fine. I won't say anything stupid like 'forget all about this' 'cause I know that's gonna be impossible but there's a chance that better things will happen so it'll be pushed back." Logan tapped the younger teen's forehead. "That's not gonna happen, though, if you think too much about now."

Carlos smiled. "You really are the smart one."

"Are you just now figuring that out?"

Logan woke to a small noise next to his bed, at first he didn't think anything of it. It was probably just one of his friends, but then...then he remembered that the three of them were forced to go back to the apartment.

His arm throbbed painfully, but he ignored it in favor of peering through the weak light from the hallway.

"Hello?" Logan's voice sounded weaker than he'd like...great. "Is anyone there?" God, he felt so worthless.

"Yes, in a way." That voice...sounded off, like they weren't all there. And it sounded scarily familiar.

He struggled to a sitting position. "Who is it?...Michael?"

"Wow!" Michael came into view, a strange glint in his eyes. "You really are the smart one, aren't you?"

"What are you doing here?" He reached for the call button, but his hand was grabbed in a tight grip and yanked away. Logan faltered on the edge of the bed, pain traveling from his arm to across his shoulders. "What the hell?"

Michael leaned in close. "Ya know, it's not good for a nice boy like you to cuss. I should really wash your mouth out with soap."

Logan tried to take back his hand, tried to take back control but not only was Michael stronger than him but he was already too weak to do anything. "The guys said you were touched in the head, but this is just plain ridiculous."

The older man scowled. "I'm not crazy!" He took his chin and pulled it up so they were face to face. "I just need to talk to you. Come with me."

He glared at him. "I don't think so," he hissed.

Michael swung and back handed him across the face, earning a small yelp and blood flying. He dragged the teen out his bed, a thud sounding over the noises of wires snapping.

"Oh, I think you will."