A/N: At long last, this is the chapter I've been itching to write when I first came up with the idea for this story. I just hope it turns out as good as I envisioned it would.

Disclaimer: Me? Own anything? *imitates Kendall's laugh* Ha!

Til I Forget About You

Intervention

I was back at The Palm Woods now. Everyone decided that it would be in my best interest to return to Los Angeles. Everyone but me that is. That was the thing; everyone seemed to be making all of my decisions for me like I was somehow incapable of making my own decisions or something. Oh well. I suppose it was all for the best. There really wasn't anything for me in New York City anyways.

The only physical reminder that I had even been in a car crash was the brace on my right knee. I had been prescribed pain medications for my knee, and while they helped, there was always a dull pain in my knee. I had both crutches and a wheelchair. Crutches seemed like the lesser of two evils. Don't get me wrong though. Both were humiliating to use. I was mortified that I couldn't get around without the use of some sort of assistance.

Detective Morgan had called fairly recently. I don't even remember when. Anyways, she told Mrs. Knight that she had the brakes of the car I had been driving when I tried to kill myself checked out, and there wasn't anything wrong with them. That just confirmed what everyone had suspected all along-it was no car accident I was in.

From then on, everyone watched me like a hawk, even more than before they received that phone call from Detective Morgan. Here I thought that wasn't even possible. Everyone babied me. Everyone was afraid to leave me in a room by myself. The only time I really got to be by myself was when I was in the bathroom going to the bathroom or taking a shower. Kendall, James, and Carlos all insisted on helping me take a shower, but I stubbornly protested. The task was much more difficult on basically one leg, but I sucked it up because it was better than having Kendall, James, or Carlos help me take a shower.

I was currently in the bathroom "using the facilities." Really, I just wanted to be alone. I was quickly getting fed up with everyone hovering over me. I was getting annoyed by everyone going out of their way to do things for me that I was perfectly capable of doing myself. I was growing tired of everyone constantly asking me how I was doing.

"Logan, are you okay?" Kendall called out.

I guess I now knew who was standing guard outside the bathroom door. Since I returned to The Palm Woods, Mrs. Knight started enforcing a new rule. Razors were not supposed to be left in the bathroom. They didn't want to risk me having access to them. Frankly, I thought they were being pretty ridiculous; It's not like I would take them and use them to slit my wrists or anything. Contrary to popular belief, I was not suicidal.

I wiped the tears from my eyes. I knew it wasn't possible, but I just wanted things to go back to the way they were. I didn't feel like their friend. I felt like their charge. I felt like someone they had to baby sit. I didn't need a baby sitter.

"Logan, can you hear me?" Kendall asked through the door.

"Yeah. I'm fine!" I shouted back.

That was a complete and total lie; I was far from fine. However, it wasn't anything that they could solve by smothering me further. They were getting carried away. I hadn't once thought about killing myself since waking up in the hospital. Of course, not that anyone would believe me. Everyone was convinced that I was some sort of ticking time bomb, ready to self-detonate at any given moment. That couldn't be further from the truth.

I gazed at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes were red and puffy from all the crying I had been doing while in the bathroom. I don't get why everyone insisted on treating me differently. From what I could tell, I still looked the same. I took a deep breath, before opening the door.

"You're okay. Thank goodness!" Kendall remarked, pulling me in for a hug.

What did he expect? Did he expect to find me a broken and bloody mess on the bathroom floor? How? There was nothing in the bathroom I could use to kill myself. Everyone made sure of that. Not that I wanted to kill myself.

I followed Kendall into our bedroom. The clatter of my clutches echoing throughout the apartment. James and Carlos were already there, sitting on their respective beds. They both smiled warmly at me upon seeing me. I gave them a half-hearted smile in return.

"So, we were wondering if you wanted to play some dome hockey," Kendall said.

"Not today," I replied.

Kendall tried to hide it, but I still saw the frown that flickered on his face after hearing my response. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James and Carlos exchange a look with one another.

"Well, how about playing some Biohazard Blast 4 then?" James suggested.

"No thanks," I answered.

Try as he may, James couldn't mask the disappointment on his face either. I felt bad because I knew that I was the reason for his disappointment.

"Are you up for a little swirly slide action?" Carlos asked hopefully.

"Not really," I admitted.

Why couldn't they understand that what I really wanted was to get out of this apartment? I felt like I was a prisoner here. Ever since I got back, I hadn't step one foot outside of Apartment 2J. I felt like I was on house arrest or something. I might as well have an ankle monitor strapped to my ankle.

I heard the front door open, but whoever it was didn't say anything, so I couldn't even tell who the newcomer was. However, soon, Mrs. Knight stood in the doorway to our bedroom. She wore this uneasy expression on her face. She exhaled deeply.

"It's time," she told us.

I wasn't sure what Mrs. Knight had meant by that, but I saw both Kendall and James nod their heads in acknowledgement. Using my peripheral vision, I couldn't help but notice Carlos stare at the covers on his bed, suddenly fascinated by them.

"Come on, Logie. Let's go," James said, grabbing my arm, and gently pulling me to my feet.

Kendall handed me my crutches. I glared daggers at the offending walking implements before begrudgingly stuffing them under my armpits. Mrs. Knight led the way, followed by Kendall and James. I reluctantly hobbled off after them.

There was this strange man waiting for me in the living room on the couch. I had never seen this guy before in my life. Also in the living room was Camille. We locked eyes with one another for the most fleeting of moments, before I averted my gaze.

I heard the shuffling of footsteps as Katie joined us in the living room as well. I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something about this didn't feel…right. This all seemed…unnatural. So many people in the living room at one time. Something was up. I wasn't sure I even wanted to know what that something was.

The stranger stood up from his seat, and walked over to me, offering me his hand to shake.

"Hello, Logan. I'm Dr. Hough from the Sycamore Treatment Center," the stranger said.

I hesitantly shook the good doctor's hand only because it was the polite thing to do; only because that was they way I had been raised.

"What is all of this? What's going on here?" I asked, my eyes darting around the room wildly from person to person, frantically seeking some explanation-verbal or otherwise.

Everyone in the room gave me small smiles that betrayed the grim expressions they wore on their faces. My breathing started to accelerate rapidly. It felt like my crutches would slip from my grasp at any given second because the palms of my hands were suddenly sweaty.

"Logan, everyone in this room is concerned about you. Everyone in this room wants to help you get better," Dr. Hough explained.

"Get better? I don't need to get better. I mean, yeah my knee is a little worse for wear, but I'm fine," I replied.

I had a hunch that it wasn't my knee that everyone was so concerned about. A feeling of dread hit me like a ton of bricks, nearly causing me to lose my balance entirely. My hold on my crutches tightened so much that my knuckles turned white.

"At the Sycamore Treatment Center, we help people like you get better. After staying with us, patients go on to lead healthy, productive lives, and you can too," Dr. Hough said.

People like me? What was this guy talking about? People like me! What was that even supposed to mean?

"You've got to be kidding me! Rehab? Really?" I asked, offended.

"Technically, it's a psychiatric institute," Dr. Hough corrected.

"Oh, in that case, sign me up!" I remarked sarcastically.

After much effort, I managed to turn myself around. I started to hobble my way back to the bedroom. I felt someone grab me by the arm. I looked to see who it was, ready to give whoever it was a piece of my mind for going along with this sham. It was none other than Kendall.

"Logie, wait. You tried to kill yourself. You may be able to dismiss that, but I can't. I don't want to lose you. Frankly, you're starting to scare me," Kendall said with tears in his eyes.

I shook myself free from Kendall's grasp. I wasn't sure quite what to make of our fearless leader crying. Out of the four of us, he had always been the least emotional. He had always been the rock that was strong for the rest of us. I felt tears threaten to spill from my eyes at the sight of Kendall being so emotional, but I somehow managed to choke them back.

Mama Knight walked over to me, and placed a hand upon my shoulder.

"Sweetie, I know you're scared, but you have to do this. I just want you to get better. I love you so much; I love you like you were my own son," Mama Knight told me as tears rolled down the sides of her face.

"I don't have to do anything! Besides, you can't tell me what to do! You're not my mother!" I retorted.

Mama Knight pulled her hand that was on my shoulder back as though she had just got burned or something. I kind of sort of felt bad that I was being so cross with her when she had never been anything but kind to me.

Katie appeared in front of me.

"Logan, please? With you, James, and Carlos, it's like I have four big brothers. The four of you are the best big brothers in the world. I've always looked up to you because you've always been such a good role model to me. I don't like new Logan. I want the old Logan back," Katie said, before giving me her best puppy dog face.

That look might work on Kendall and Mama Knight, but I was immune to it. I knew better. I knew that she just used it when she tried to get what she wanted.

"You already have a big brother, Katie. Kendall. So let me get this straight; now I'm not a good role model to you? Well, guess what? I don't care! I never asked to be your role model in the first place!" I exclaimed.

I firmly grasped my crutches, before jostling my way past Kendall and Mama Knight. I was now back into the living room area when James walked up to me.

"Logie, come on man. I know you hate asking for help. I know you hate admitting you need help. You do need help though, even if you don't want to ask for it or admit it. You're my best friend. Even more than that though, you're my brother. I'm willing to do whatever it takes for you-even if you don't want me to," James said.

"Yeah, says the person who didn't even say goodbye to me when I left Los Angeles for New York! Says the person who not once picked up the phone to call me while I was in New York! What kind of a best friend does that make you? No, what kind of a brother does that make you?" I retorted.

A torrent of tears cascaded down James' face. Maybe if I actually thought James cared about me I would feel guilty for making him cry, but I knew that James didn't care about me. Actions speak louder than words, and his actions said plenty.

Camille made a beeline for me. She pulled her hand back and slapped me hard across the cheek. The sound was more reminiscent of a gun being fired.

"Wake up, Logan! Do you even hear yourself right now? Snapping at the people who care about you the most. This isn't you! When I heard that you were in a car crash, I about died! My world as I knew it came crashing down all around me! It was then that I realized how horrible I had been to you in New York City. Who knows? Maybe if I had been the girlfriend you deserved, then none of this would have ever happened. Then again, maybe this would have happened no matter what. I don't know. All I know is that I love you. I would much rather be a part of this so-called 'sham' and have you hate me, than ever hear that you tried to take your own life again," Camille commented, tears streaming down her face.

"Okay, I don't know who you people are, or what's gotten into you, but I don't have to take this anymore. This has been…fun…but I'm out of here," I remarked.

The rhythmic sound of my crutches was the only sound that could be heard as I hobbled my way to my bedroom faster than I had ever hobbled before. This just wasn't fair! They were ganging up on me! Nobody had my back! Not a single one of them! I had entered the threshold of the bedroom before I nearly collided into Carlos.

My heart broke when I took in the sight of my best friend. He was trembling like a leaf. His eyes were red and puffy. The top of his head was naked without his lucky helmet, which lay discarded on the bedroom floor.

"Logie, when they told me about their plan to put you in rehab or whatever, I told them that I wanted no part of it; I told them that I couldn't do that to you-that I cared about you too much," Carlos said before he had to stop to sniffle.

"I totally get why you're mad at everyone else. I do. Camille ignored you. Kendall and James didn't even say goodbye to you when you left. No one even bothered to call you while you were in New York City…except for me," he continued, tears falling unchecked from his eyes.

"We used to talk on the phone everyday too. Then, it became every other day. Then it became once a week. Then, it was every other week. Finally, you just stopped calling. I thought about calling you, but I don't know, I thought you were mad at me or something. I thought maybe I had done or said something to upset you. So instead, I just waited for you to call me. I waited and waited, but you never called," Carlos recalled, his eyes glistening with tears.

I felt a pain resonate from the left side of my chest. I balanced on my good leg, and clutched my heart with my hand. I remembered that. Hearing how Carlos took it just tore me up inside. I felt like the worst person on the face of the planet.

"Then we received a call that you had been involved in a car wreck. I didn't know what to think at the time. All I knew was that it had to be just some terrible accident, because you would never try to kill yourself or anything. I remember praying-so much-that you would just live. Only, come to find out, the car crash was no accident," Carlos said.

Carlos had to take a few moments to regain his composure before he continued. I felt tears leak out of my own eyes listening to Carlos. I wanted to say something to him-anything. What could I say though? I was at a complete and utter loss for words.

"Somehow though I thought you and I were still cool. Then, not only did you kick everyone else out of your hospital room, you kicked me out of your hospital room. I think that's when it hit me that something was wrong with you. As much as we all want to fix you, as much as I want to fix you, I'm afraid this problem is too big for all of us. We can't fix you, but you can be fixed. Who knows? You may never try to kill yourself again. If so, that's great. However, if something really is wrong with you, then you have to go to that treatment center. Please? If not for anybody else, then for me? I just want my best friend back," Carlos whimpered.

I pulled Carlos in for a hug. My clutches fell to the floor as I didn't need them anymore; Carlos had a hold of me now, and he wasn't about to let me fall. We both cried as we held onto each other as though our lives depended on it. My vision was blurred by tears. My body was racked by sobs.

"Okay, Carlos. I'll go. I'll go," I replied.

To Be Continued…

A/N: All I can say is Cargan FTW!