For any of you who are pained about Kendall being a villain, I'd just like to say that I'm sorry. He is my favorite of the four and I didn't even mean for him to be one of the antagonists, it just sort of happened... But never fear, he's not totally evil, and eventually maybe he won't be so horrible... maybe...
Also, I don't say it enough, but thank you all for the lovely reviews, they make my day every time I read them!
I hope you all enjoy the chapter :)

Chapter Fourteen

"I don't understand this!"

"What's not to understand?" Reasoned Logan; "it's basic trigonometry."

"This is basic?" Asked the Latino, raising his dark eyebrows. Logan let out a chuckle, falling back onto Carlos' bed. It was nearing seven o'clock and Logan was trying his best to coax the Latino into studying.

"Come on Carlos, we need to get this done," insisted the brunette, "how else do you expect to pass maths?"

"But I don't want to pass maths," moaned Carlos, climbing up from his desk to join Logan on the bed, "I just want to spend time with you."

The brunette ducked his head, trying his best to conceal the traitorous blush that invaded his cheeks.

"Really?" He asked, staring into the Latino's eyes.

Carlos grinned, pushing Logan down into the bed, so the two were lying next to each other.

"Of course; there's no one else I'd rather be spending time with, I mean what I said that night, Logan," he said, referring back to the scene in the cabin, "I love you."

Logan smiled thinly, resting his head on the Latino's chest, listening to the thud of his heart.

"I love you too Carlos," he whispered. The two became lost in eyes of differing shades of brown, chocolate and burnt umber. Mesmerised, Logan leant in, feeling the tingling sensation of Carlos' breaths against his lips. The distance was swiftly closed, the Latino pressing their lips together. The kiss was deep and slow, tenderness laced with a lingering desire. Carlos wrapped his arms around the petite brunette, hands rubbing up and down the length of his slender back. Logan moaned at the touch, pressing himself into the Latino, the brunette grabbing fistfuls of Carlos' shirt.

"Carlos- oh, um…"

The couple lurched apart, the Latino's eyes wide with shock, Logan biting his bottom lip, embarrassment heating up his features.

Sylvia stood in the open doorway, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"I didn't realise; the door was open…" She said, giving the two a small smile.

"No, no, it's okay…" Muttered Carlos, eyes downcast.

A silence, awkward and tense fell over the three for a moment, nobody making any move to speak.

"I think we need to talk about this," said Sylvia finally, "come join me down in the kitchen in a few minutes."

The Latino nodded, watching as his mother disappeared from the room. The two stared at the empty doorway in silence, too shocked to neither speak nor move.

"I'm really sorry about that…" Mumbled Logan, averting his gaze from Carlos' eyes.

"Don't be sorry, there's nothing to be sorry for," said the Latino with a smile as he rubbed the brunette's shoulder in comfort, "I'm not sorry."

Carlos stood up, stretching.

"But I guess now we have to go downstairs and face a very awkward conversation."

Logan nodded ruefully, allowing the Latino to lead the way out of the bedroom, the now rumpled bed sheets the last thing the brunette glimpsed before leaving the room.

The kitchen was quiet and dim as the couple entered it, Mrs Garcia stood at the bench brewing a pot of what Logan assumed was tea. She took a seat at the small breakfast table, the two boys following suit.

"Now," started Sylvia, pouring the tea into three separate ceramic mugs, "I need to know what's going on, would someone mind explaining?"

The Latino grasped Logan's hand in his own beneath the table, giving it a squeeze. Logan smiled, nodding for Carlos to begin speaking.

"Well, ah, I guess we're t-together…" He mumbled; eyes focused on the table, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

For a moment Mrs Garcia didn't answer, and Carlos grew fearful, this is exactly what he'd been dreading; a bad reaction. But when Sylvia did finally speak her tone was curious and as the Latino looked up he saw the smile dominating her features.

"I just have one question," was all she said.

"Yes?" Asked Carlos, squeezing Logan's hand again.

"Are you two going to adopt a little girl," she questioned, "because I've always wanted granddaughter."

Logan watched as the Latino's jaw dropped, blood rushing to fill his cheeks.

"M-m-mum!"

Sylvia held he hands up in defence.

"What? I was just wondering, it's a perfectly legitimate question."

Carlos only shook his head, trying furiously to quell the blush that heated his cheeks.

"What about your parents Logan? Have you had a chance to mention Carlos to them?" Sylvia inquired, ignoring the mortified state of her son. The brunette went to answer but found that words wouldn't come; he didn't know what to say. Carlos, noticing Logan's panicked look, answered.

"Well about that… Logan's been having some trouble at home and I was wondering if he could stay here for a while?"

Carlos sounded hopeful as he spoke, watching as his mother tilted her head to the side, thinking.

"Well I don't see the harm in letting him stay…" She answered with a smile. Logan grinned at her, the Latino jumping up from his seat, pumping his fists in the air.

"But," said Sylvia, the word causing Carlos to pause in his celebration, "if I'm kept up at night by you two I may have to reconsider."

Logan stared between Sylvia and her son, shocked at her blunt statement. Carlos was frozen, spluttering out an incoherent sentence.

"M-m-bu-b-wh-what...?"

Mrs Garcia only laughed, standing up and leaving the room, pausing at the doorway and saying:

"make sure you put the mugs on the draining board when you're finished."

"Well that was the single most awkward thing I've ever experienced in my life ever."

The two were sat back in Carlos' room, lying on the bed staring up at the plain ceiling; the only part of the Latino's room that was relatively clean and orderly.

"I think I like your mother," was all Logan said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Carlos pulled Logan into his arms, chuckling.

"Of course you like her."

The couple spent a few minutes in a comfortable silence, Logan quickly lulled into a relaxed state by the steady rises and falls of Carlos' broad chest.

"Carlos?" The brunette said after a few minutes, the ceiling still holding the two in its simplistic thrall.

"Mmm?" Replied Carlos, Logan feeling the resonating vibrations as he spoke.

"Thank you for letting me stay, I was scared I wouldn't have anywhere to go."

"Logan, as long as I'm by your side you'll have a place to go, which will be always."

"Always?"

Carlos, shifted into a sitting position, furrowing his brow.

"Of course, Logie, why do you sound so doubtful?"

The brunette sighed, drawing his knees up to his chin.

"Why me Carlos?" He asked, staring down at his feet, "why did you choose me, the kid with all the baggage, when you could have had anybody?"

The Latino's eyes went wide, disbelief lacing his features.

"Logan, why not you?" He replied, clambering over to the boy's delicate frame.

"I would rather have you than anyone else in the whole entire world, don't you ever forget that, not in a million million years."

The brunette only nodded, Carlos could tell he didn't believe it.

"Come on," said the Latino, jumping up from the bed, "I've got something to show you."

Logan followed obediently, allowing Carlos to lead him out of the room and into the hall; before he knew it, the two were in the upstairs bathroom, staring into the wide mirror that hung above the vanity.

"What do you see?" Asked the Latino, hands resting on Logan's shoulders.

The brunette, glancing up at Carlos' dark eyes could tell he was completely serious; this wasn't any kind of joke.

"I see Logan Mitchell and Carlos Garcia," answered Logan hesitantly, unsure of where this was going.

"Okay," said Carlos, staring straight ahead at their reflections, "describe Logan Mitchell to me."

"Umm…" Logan suddenly became uncomfortable, he didn't want to be in here, stood before the mirror, a tool his father had unknowingly utilised for years to remind the brunette of just how pathetic and worthless he was.

"Come on," prompted Carlos, awaiting a response.

"Carlos, can we go back to the bedroom, I'm not comfortable with this."

The Latino shook his head defiantly, urging Logan to describe himself. The brunette finally gave in with a sigh, beginning to speak.

"Logan Mitchell has brown hair," he began, "and brown eyes, his skin is really pale and he's quite thin. There, is that enough?"

Carlos shook his head, jaw set firm.

Logan had turned to look up at the Latino as he spoke, and now, as he turned back to stare into the mirror it was like a blow to the stomach, if Carlos hadn't been holding him he was sure he would have fell. Without even realising it, the brunette once again spoke, words surging forth.

"I see a pathetic excuse for a person," he whispered, eyes wide, "I see someone who's weak, who isn't worth anybody's time, I see someone who doesn't deserve to live."

His breath hitched and Carlos let go of his shoulders, catching Logan by the waist as he crumpled to the cold tiles beneath their feet. Silent tears traced their way down the brunette's cheek, his frame shaking violently.

"It's okay, it's okay," cooed Carlos, "what you saw in the mirror, I want you to know, you're wrong, what you're seeing, it isn't right, you're absolutely perfect, I live for you Logan."

He stared, wide-eyed, at the ceiling. The room was dark, the shadows creeping in with every passing second he gazed up. A duvet was pulled up to his chin, and the curtains were closed tightly over the window, just the way he liked it, but still Logan couldn't sleep. His mind, being the analytical construct that it was, kept wondering over the events of the past week or so. He knew it was an unproductive thing to do, the only thing that would come of it would be less sleep, but the brunette couldn't help himself; he was amazed at how things had unfolded. Here he was, sleeping in the guest bedroom of the Garcia residence, staring up at their simple celling, white paint muted to a grey in the darkness. Carlos, Kendall, Jett, his newfound friends, his parents. It was like the brunette was living one of his novels, but he didn't think there'd be anyone twisted enough to write such a terrible narrative. For such a long time his future had been guaranteed as nothing much more than bleak, but now, despite all that had happened, there was a pinprick of light at the end of the labyrinth.

What Logan had experienced in the bathroom, Carlos forcing him to speak those words aloud, something he'd never dared to do before had somehow helped him. The Latino had knocked them back so easily, was so confident that the brunette, for once, was completely wrong.

It was a nice feeling.

For the first time in his life Logan Mitchell was properly loved, something he'd feared he'd never experience as long as he lived.

He was glad he'd been wrong about that too.

Logan, as quietly as he could, climbed from his bed, creeping out into the hall, trying desperately not to make a sound.

He stood before Carlos' bedroom door for a few moments, fighting an internal battle. Maybe he should just go back to bed, he'd hate to disturb Carlos, they'd been late getting to bed in the first place. The brunette was about to turn around, resolving to himself to go back to bed, but froze, a hushed voice drifting out from behind the closed door.

"Logie?"

It opened to a few moments later to reveal the silhouette of Carlos, whose eyes were wide.

"Logie, what are you doing up?"

The brunette blinked, startled by the Latino's apparent sixth sense.

"I-I couldn't sleep." Muttered Logan, staring down at his bare feet; even in the darkness Logan could sense Carlos' smile.

"Come to bed with me," he murmured sleepily, taking Logan's hand in his.

The Latino lay under the thick duvet, Logan's back pressed firmly against his bare chest. He listened to the brunette's contented sighs and utterances, which brought a smile to his lips. Carlos couldn't be happier, laying here, he realised he was more or less contented with his life; Logan filling a void that he had never thought could be mended. The brunette was perfect in every describable way, Carlos only wished Logan could see that. The Latino pressed his lips against the milky skin of the brunette's neck, muttering,

"I love you Logan."

Logan shifted, nestling further into the warmth that Carlos provided.

"I love you too Carlos."

Science Lab, now.

Logan stared down at the screen of his phone, gulping. He'd never bothered to save the number, be he hadn't needed to, the brunette knew exactly who the text was from. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the cool metal of his locker, trying frantically to calm his pounding heart.

Everything would be fine; he would be fine.

"Logie, there you are!"

The brunette lurched into a standing position, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Carlos didn't seem to notice the jerking movements, grinning as he practically ran over to the brunette.

"I was looking all over for you," he continued, "I was talking to Stephanie and you just disappeared!"

Logan gave the Latino a rueful smile, "sorry, I just needed to grab some books." Carlos grinned, "it's okay Logie, I was just a little worried, I thought that maybe you'd been kidnapped by a ninja or something."

Logan tried his best to make the chuckle he gave Carlos sound authentic; his heart was beating wildly; he knew exactly what Kendall wanted.

The brunette had been so busy last night with being besotted with Carlos that he'd more or less forgotten about the threat that hung over his head, almost as if it had never even existed in the first place. But here it was, bigger than ever before and looming right before him. Reality just loved to play its twisted games.

"Carlos," Logan said, a little shakily, "I've got to go and grab one of the chemistry textbooks from the science lab for study, I'll be back in a minute."

"Well I'll come with you," said the Latino amiably, making to follow the brunette as he started off down the hall. Logan jolted to a stop and spun around to face Carlos.

"No!" He said, so forcefully it came out as more of a shout.

The Latino looked taken aback, chocolate eyes wide with shock.

"Logie…"

"I-I'm sorry," he said, taking Carlos' hands in his, "I just thought that you should go find your friends, hang out for a while before class, I won't be long."

The Latino's frown turned into a smile as he nodded his head in understanding.

"Okay, I guess you're right, I'll see you in a couple of minutes then?"

"Of course," answered Logan, who pressed a chaste kiss to the Latino's cheek. Carlos grinned, returning the sentiment. As Logan pulled away and continued on down the hall he tried his best to look composed and calm, but his mind was a chaotic mess of terror and apprehension. He didn't have the study notes, what was Kendall going to do to him?

"You took your time."

He stood, golden blonde hair shining in the glare of the fluorescent lights. Kendall stood on the opposite side of the room, numerous benches adorned with collections of glass vials the only things that divided the pair.

"Where are the notes?" He asked, emerald eyes expectant.

"I-I…"

Logan could hardly breathe. What was he to say? Kendall on his own was imposing enough, the brunette hated to think of what he'd be like when he was riled up.

"You didn't bring them."

It wasn't a question.

Logan gulped, legs quaking as Kendall advanced, taking slow and purposeful steps towards the paralysed brunette. Logan wanted nothing more to run, but his legs wouldn't comply, rooted to the floor by the ever-traitorous feeling of terror. All he could do was stare as Kendall continued to close the gap between them.
"Why didn't you bring them Loges?" He enquired, in that scarily casual tone of his. Logan could sense that he was angry, a broiling rage contained just beneath the surface.

"I-I…"

Nothing would come out; no coherent thoughts or words could be strung together. Fear had taken over and shut down the brunette's brain. It was as if his body knew the small boy didn't stand a chance.

"You know Loges," Kendall said, clapping his hands together as he came to a stop a few feet from the brunette, "frankly, I'm surprised. I thought you were a conscientious worker, that you took pride in your work, and that you kept true to your promises. But here we are; you failed to deliver my simple request. You failed Logan."

"I-I…"
"No, no," said Kendall with a smile, "don't say anything. I know my threats don't really hold any weight anymore, but you still didn't do what I asked, and I can't let that go unpunished."

It was like Logan was back in his home, standing before his father, waiting to receive that almost customary blow to the face. He thought he'd escaped, but not really, he could never really get away.

It was so sudden; Logan never really saw it coming, only felt it. The brunette wasn't even exactly sure what had happened, had Kendall punched him? Had he thrown something? All he felt was a screaming pain that blossomed on his forehead, the tiles of the science lab cold as he collapsed upon them. He wasn't sure how quickly he blacked out, but the last thing the brunette remembered was the sound of Kendall's laugh and the soft curtain of red that swept over his eyes.

James sat in the library, trying his best to focus on the literature essay that sat before him. He knew his efforts were in vain, and that really he was wasting his time here, but he couldn't help it. All he was really trying to do was stay away from Carlos, and in turn, avoid Logan. He couldn't stand to see the couple together, all smiles and happiness; it hurt him too much. Once or twice James had been tempted to approach Logan but the Latino never seemed to leave his side.

"Why do I fail at life so badly?" He muttered to himself angrily, tapping the pen he held in his hand furiously against the table.

"Oh please, you have prefect grades and the most flawless skin I've ever seen, I don't understand how you could possibly fail at life."

Glancing up, James saw Lucy leaning against one of the shelves, smiling.

"Hey," she said, taking a seat opposite him.

"Hey," he sighed, rubbing at his heavy eyes.

"What are you doing hiding in here anyway?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Would you believe me if I said I was studying?" He asked.

Lucy grinned, shaking her head, "no, in all my life the James Diamond I've known has never needed to study, not for anything."

"So what's really up," she questioned, folding her arms across her chest.

"It's nothing," James muttered, glancing down at the essay, "I'm just, I don't know…"

The brunette was so tempted to just admit everything to Lucy, he was so tired of keeping it all to himself, he wanted someone to talk to.

"Jamie," she said with a simper, "you can talk to me, I can see you've got a problem, let me help you."

James leaned back in his chair, allowing the weariness that had been slowly eating away at him to wash over his entire being.

"It's Logan," he said finally, after a few minutes of silence, "it's Logan."

"Logan?" Lucy asked, sounding taken aback.

"Well, Logan, but not Logan…"

"James, you need to give me a little more here," Lucy said with a laugh, "I'm sort of lost."

"It's just that I-I…" James began to feel his heart rate pick up, what was he supposed to say? He didn't think the small girl would react badly but he was still hesitant to reveal the truth to her.

Screw it.

"IreallylikeLogan."

"What?" Asked Lucy, squinting, "I didn't hear you, slow down!"

"I…"

"You what?" She demanded, giving the brunette an impatient look.

"I really like Logan…" He answered finally, letting out a dejected sigh.

"Are you serious?" Lucy said incredulously, "Like, really?"

James only nodded, sighing again.

"Of course you're gay," she said exasperatedly, rolling her eyes, "everyone is gay!"

"What's that supposed to mean? " Demanded James, tensing.

"Nothing," Lucy said with a smirk, "it's just that all the hot ones are gay, but really, with the amount of skin care products you use, and not to mention the mirror you carry around, it really isn't all that surprising."

"Oh," said James, having no witty reply for what may be the first time.

"Sorry are you playing the recluse because it's too painful to see Logan and Carlos together?" She asked after a few moments.

James nodded, "you could put it like that I guess, although it sounds a bit dramatic."

"Not nearly dramatic enough for you James."

James only rolled his eyes, "I've just, I've just always thought that I would be good for him, and then when those two started dating, I don't know… Logan needs nurturing but with Carlos, it's like he's a full time babysitter for an over grown child. I want to be able to look after him."

Lucy gave him a sympathetic look, "Logan is happy, " she said, "you should be happy too."

"I know," murmured James, "but I don't think I can be happy without him."

Logan opened his eyes, groaning, met with the sight of a swirl of blurred and muted colours.

"Logie…"

The voice was choked, tortured almost; he felt his hand being squeezed softly. The brunette turned his head; eyes coming into sharp clarity as he was met with the sight of Carlos' tear streaked face.

"Hey," whispered Logan, closing his eyes momentarily as he smiled. He heard a collective sigh wash through the room, looking around he saw that everyone was there, Mrs Garcia, Jo, Lucy, Camille, James and; Logan paused as his eyes connected with Kendall's; emerald orbs brimming with a fabricated concern.

"We were all so worried," breathed the Latino, bundling Logan up into his arms and carefully pressing a kiss to his cheek, "I was so worried."

Logan could hear the thump of Carlos' heart, erratic and wild as he held him; Logan, despite being safe, felt far from it; his assailant stood right in this room with him, and nobody appeared to be any wiser.

"How long was I unconscious for?" Logan asked, feeling the rawness of his throat as he spoke.

"A day," croaked the Latino, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Logan said, "you have nothing to be sorry for."

The two settled into silence, the tension that hung around the room settling. The brunette knew everyone was thinking the same thing, well expect for Kendall of course. They all wanted to know what happened to him; but he wasn't prepared to talk about it.

"I'm so tired," muttered Logan, "I think I need to get some sleep."

Carlos squeezed his hand again, smiling softly, "okay, we'll leave you alone for a while, I'll go and tell the doctor you woke up."

Everyone followed the Latino from the room, muttering condolences to the brunette, James still looking somewhat distressed. Kendall hung back, smirking.

"If you say a word," he said, "about what happened I'll make sure you'll never speak again. Not that any of them will believe you, but still, I can't have people doubting my good nature."

He left the room chuckling, the sounding lingering long after he had disappeared. The doctor soon entered the room, checking Logan's vitals, advising him to get some rest. The brunette tried, but it was futile, what was he to say to everyone? If he said a word about Kendall then there would be a confrontation, and Logan felt that the blonde would have no trouble staying true to his promise.

Logan let a stray tear fall from his eye, feeling it's salty heat run down his cheek.

He was trapped.

Thank you all for reading!
Just as a note, my updates will be a little irregular for the next couple of weeks or so, I just have a bunch of assignments and stuff I need to get through, but I hope to be updating relatively soon.