a/n: hi guys! sorry i took so long lol
but i'm on break which means i can update more often YAY
anyway, before you read this chapter, RE READ CHAPTERS SEVEN AND EIGHT.
just trust me, ok? you probably forgot everything. xD
They tear him apart, the demons do. With gnashing ivory blades in their withering snouts and white eyes open and rimmed flourescent red, they shred him to pieces. James is awake for the entireity of it, has to watch and feel as the stuff of his childhood strips his flesh away, watches as the red ribbons fall. The entire time, he's making eye contact with them, their unnaturally round eyes bore into him with small pupils. James can't handle it, he's not capable, and yet, he does- he has to.
He doesn't know how he survives the torture, the constant sight of his innards exposed for him to see in all of their bloody, pus-encrusted glory.
(But each day they come, he gets through it, wishing all the while he would die. But on the multitude of drugs they inject into his bloodstream, he couldn't be more alive.)
\
Kendall loves James, he does- or, he did. He loved the leaf-green memories, the smell of crisp cologne and the feel of well-maintained skin. He's not really sure how he feels about this new James, the one who's hair is matted with sweat, the one who's heart can be heard galloping from the end of the hallway, the one who doesn't look anything like himself anymore. It's beautiful, sure, it is- pretty and beautiful in a shattered way, that whole cliche of being broken artfully. But mental cases aren't really Kendall's thing, and the more he tries to convince himself he still loves this James, the more he realises it's not true.
He was in love with James, with the imagines burning bright in his mind- but now, all that's left is an idea, and Kendall has no clue what to do with it.
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"Carlos," Logan begins slowly, already feeling the cosmic energy building behind the walls of his lungs, pressurepressurepressure in his chest. "What happened last night?" He's trying not to panic, he's trying to keep his voice steady, even, but he can't, who could after waking up next to your best friend in bed?
"Uh.." Carlos says sheepishly, staring into Logan's eyes with uncertainty ignited behind his whiskey irises. Logan looks down in time to see Carlos' hand move towards his own and sharply snatches it away before he has the chance to feel the burning sensation of the contact. The tanned boy before Logan looks straight at him and slowly retracts his hand, looking slightly hurt and maybe a bit battered by Logan's reaction.
"I think.. Maybe we got drunk?" Logan stares fiercely into Carlos for one seems like minutes, searching the depths of coffe-stained eyes for a spark, a scintilla, any change that would alert him to fabrication. But Carlos just stares right on back, a sea of whiskey calmly rolling deep within his returned stare. The paler one looks away, dark eyes skittering wildly as he sees the past and the future both at once. He hears Carlos sigh exasperatedly, but doesn't look back up.
"Logan, you're the smart one, you should know this. Not me."
"No, Carlos." Logan groans, burying his head in his hands. "The problem isn't that I don't remember." He gets up and faces towards the window, and Carlos admires the way the sunlight jumps in gold beams off his skin, the way that when he runs his fingers through his amber-coloured hair, it refracts silver light all over the room.
"It's that it shouldn't have even happened."
\
The first time James tries to escape, it's easy.
Too easy.
He wriggles the tips of his fingers through the rough ropes holding them down, agonized by the fact that the only reason they slip through is due to the lubrication from his own blood; He slides himself out of the large belt binding his torso to the table, and winces as the leather and metal scrape over his gaping wounds. With his heart about to beat out of his mouth and his larynx suspended like a frog in his throat, James puts his foot down on the ground, wobbling slightly because it's been hours? Days? Months? Years, even? - since the last time he'd had the pleasure of being able to walk. He looks around wearily, thumpthumpthumpboomboomboom and slowly takes another step.
Nothing happens.
It's completely silent, not a single movement in the room save for the gentle to and fro of the small hanging lamp fixed to the ceiling. James watches as the pale cone of light projected by it sways slowly along the floor, a visible column of mesmerising rays that only make him more alert.
He takes another step.
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"DISNEY PARK CONSTRUCTION HALTED AFTER LOCALS REBELLION KILLS MASCOT"
Carlos looks at the screen in disdain, his pupils quaking from side to side as he rapidly reads the long excerpt. Kendall bites his nails agitatedly, bouncing up and down slightly as he waits for Carlos to read the article. As he sees his friend getting lost in the reading, Kendall looks down and notices his friend gently stroking lines down the length of his own sweater sleeve, but the green eyed boy thinks nothing of it.
"So?" Kendall presses. The shorter of the two reaches up unsurely and scratches the back of his neck with striped sleeves too long, looks down at Kendall and sighs.
"I don't know, Kendall. It looks like it's a real source, but.. voodoo? You actually think this could be true?"
"It's the only thing I could find, Carlos!" Kendall's eyes widen exaggeratedly as he speaks, and Carlos notes the wild fear burning in them. "I have- We have to find something that proves James was right, otherwise he'll end up... you know where he'll end up."
(It's right then that Carlos realizes, Kendall must really, really love that boy with hazel eyes.)
And it's true; having spoken to the doctors earlier, they'd explained to them(all of them, from Katie to Lucy and Logan) that James was probably(probably, Kendall scoffs) undergoing dementia from the trauma he experienced of being 'lost in the jungle'. If his mental state didn't pick up soon, their best option would be to institutionalize him.
Kendall called bullshit on that.
"He told us what happened!" He snaps, stepping forth and staring the old doctor straight-on with a fierce jade gaze. "It's not our fucking fault if you don't believe him, but don't give us that 'he's insane' crap."
James is hooked up to an IV, still in bed, fast asleep. The doctors had sedated him because of a particularily bad panic attack that he had had(as if they weren't all bad) where he ended up almost rupturing a vein, so he was asleep in an awkward position, with bandages wrapped around his arm. The room is dark, but not dark enough for Kendall to see the doctors expression of pity directed straight at him.
"Sir-" The doctor begins, but Kendall hears none of it.
"No! If you guys are going to be this shitty at your own job, then don't even bother trying to help him at all." He turns on his own heels and walks out of the room, leaving smudgy cloudy scuff marks on the linoleum.
"Kendall, if this is true," Carlos starts slowly, careful not to set off his temper, "You should probably look more into it." He enunciates, uses an adult voice, because they're in their twenties now- they're falling apart at the seams, sinking through the cracks of their own immaturity, and it's about time they start acting their age. "What's this newspaper called? We can look more into it."
Kendall turns and stares at the screen. With a furrowed brow, he points out, "It's in malay or something. I don't know, I can't read it."
"Google translate?"
"I can't, it's a picture." Carlos frowns and turns away, pacing a little bit.
"Okay, we can't read it.."
"But you know someone who can." Kendall points out, tipping his head in the direction of the living room. Carlos sighs and nods.
"Yeah, probably."
"Well?" Kendall asks incredulously, shoving him off. "Go! James isn't going to end up in the whackhouse because of us, okay?"
And off he goes. As he walks away, he hears Kendall mutter, "I hope."
\
"James?" Kendall begins awkwardly, standing in the doorway of the tiny room, shifting his weight from side to side and looking everywhere but the blood-stained bedsheets, the tear-stained cheeks, the sun-stained hair on James' head.
Kendall feels, doesn't see, but feels James' gaze settle on him- he can feel the confusion and apprehension reverberating towards him in epileptic waves. He walks towards the bed. Time lapses, stutters, lapses. It's surreal, the time stretch. Every millisecond is a decade, and Kendall is old and prune-like by the time he sits down at the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.
"I.. we should probably talk."
"About?"
"What happened."
\
James slowly walks to the edge of the room, doing his best to ignore the steady cant of pain shooting up his leg and back down again, searing every nerve ending in it's wake as it climbs along. He has a hand wrapped tightly around his burned, scarred, scabbing, bloody torso and the other on the small of his back. He creeps along the edge of the room, looking for a door, and sees one across the room. He begins to make his way towards it.
The shadows move behind him.
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"You think I'm lying, too?" James immediately puffs up, pushes his back flat against the headboard behind him and stares at Kendall with dark, blown pupils.
"No, James. You know what I'm talking about."
"Oh. Uh, actually I don't."
"Oh." Kendall still hasn't looked up. "Um.. nevermind then, I guess." He can see James smirking out of the corner of his eye, sees his thin pink lips stretch out into a pleasant curve. "What?" He asks incredulously, and James shakes his head.
"Are you going to tell me?"
"Fine." Kendall snaps, turning his head completely away so he can't see James' reaction when he says, "Remember that night we got.. eh.. slightly intoxicated?"
"You mean the night you got so wasted that you puked in Camille's purse and then threw it at me?" Kendall cringes, but a smile crosses his face. He leans slightly and puts out his arm to support himself, feeling the curve of the thin bedsheet right next to James' body, feels as the warm heat just out of his reach shuffles slightly closer.
"That's not the memory I was talking about, but sure, we can start there."
"Oh, were you talking about how we spent half the night making out in the back bathroom?"
"I'm pretty sure it was a closet."
"I'm pretty sure you were shitfaced drunk." James retorts mockingly, and Kendall doesn't respond- he just flops down next to James unceremoniously, shuffling on the bed so that he's curled up away from James. He's careful not to touch him- not to feel the twin sparks of lust and guilt that ignites whenever he does so. James' confused and tired gaze doesn't bounce off Kendall- it burns through his skin, eats away at his insides and then passes through.
Kendall writhes under it's heat.
\
One month.
Thirty-one days exactly.
All gone down the drain.
(along with his self-confidence and a flurry of carmine, too.)
\
His fingers clasp the doorknob tightly, shakily; he slowly twists it, relieved at the way that it's almost silent as he does so. This is it, he thinks. He quietly pulls the door back and steps through.
Freedom.
(only, it's not.)
It's dark, but James just assumes that it's nighttime. Cautiously, he makes his way forward- not noticing the way that the door clicks shut behind him, the way that the sky is starless, moonless. He creeps forward, both drunk and high all at once; his mind an overload of I'm out, I'm actually out ringing through his head. He keeps walking until he bumps into something. It must be the gate, he thinks. He reaches out and feels it up and down for a knob-
it moves against him.
\
"A-anyway.." James shuffles away from Kendall, and the burning sensation fades. Stealing a glance upwards, Kendall sees James staring at the ground, much like he was earlier. "What about it?"
"Do you ever think about it?"
"I- I mean," Kendall tries to cover up his verbal fumble, but really, how are you supposed to cover up an impulsive outburst like that? It wasn't like James didn't hear, the way his head snapped towards Kendall and his mouth dropped slightly was enough to make it obvious. "Like, because it was signifi- um, I mean because it was impo- we never talked about it, okay?! And I never knew weather or not to bring it up or not-"
"Kendall."
"And even if I did, what if you said that you had only done it because you were horny or something?! Because I've liked you for a really really long time and I don't actually want to know if you're up for doing it again-"
"Kend- wait, you what?"
\
"Wait, what do you mean?" Carlos is sitting cross-legged on the couch, staring up at Logan with an unreadble intensity in his eyes. "Are you saying that the entire time we made out, you knew we were going to have this conversation?" His voice is sharp and icy and slick and it rubs Logan the wrong way. "You knew that it didn't mean as much to you as it did me?"
"Look, Carlos-" Logan's not entirely sure why he's talking so sweetly- maybe it's the broken look on his face, the dejected tone of his voice or the way he's glancing down with this expression like he's trying to be angry, like he's not in love with Logan and that it was just a one-night stand went wrong.
(Well, that's what it was for Logan, anyway.)
\
"Oh, Shit, James, I-" Kendall looks up at the heartrate monitor and cringes as he sees James' heartbeat increasing by almost double.
"Kendall." Even though he can talk, James' heartbeat is still too quick for Kendall's liking.
"Don't freak out! I mean, you've already got a lot of stuff on your plate, and I probably shouldn't have said that, yeah, but at least you haven't rejected me or anything yet! I mean, I don't actually know if I still like you or not but-" The beeps got faster, louder- "No, don't freak out! James- I- oh my god." Kendall is panicking with him now, his breathing is quickening and he looks around frantically(everywhere but James).
"James, should I call a doctor? Where's the button-y thing?" He leans forward, hovers over James and feels around on the side of the bed for the pager button.
"Kendall, I'm fine." James says slowly, pushing Kendall off him. The beeping intervals slow down considerably, and when Kendall finally looks over at James, he's wearing a weird expression- something between shock and confusion and amusement. He doesn't know what it means(he knows what he hopes it means), but he's pretty stoked that James isn't actually having a panic attack like he'd thought. James smiles at him, slightly teasingly, and Kendall grins back in embarassment.
"Do you still want to talk?" His expression is serious now, and Kendall recoils from it- he's seen that expression too often for his liking, and sobriety is not a good look on James. Well, everything's a good look on James, but sobriety is kind of a cold beauty that scares Kendall more than it entrances him.
"Um," Kendall's gaze darts to the monitor and back to James' face. "No. No, I'm good. We can talk later."
\
The trip back to the apartment is filled with 'why did I do that's and 'i can't believe i told him's for Kendall, and it's not that fun, so when he gets back home, he's glad to be away from the mental torment and the drama of normal life.
Except, he isn't. This becomes apparent when he approaches the door, has the key inside the lock and suddenly he hears-
"Yes or no, Logan?" It's Carlos' voice, and he sounds.. different. Angry. Not in a joking way, but in a genuinely hurt way. Kendall's eyes narrow. He loves Logan, he loves Carlos, too, but if Logan hurt Carlos enough to make him deflate so badly that Kendall can literally hear the difference.. that wasn't okay.
"Carlos, I-" Pause. "I love Kendall, okay? Or- I mean.. I like him a lot-"
Wait, what?! No, God no. Kendall steps back from the door, prepares to run off and hide(all he does is hide) but as he's deciding which way to dart off to, the door swings open to reveal a very upset looking Carlos, who pushes past him before a single thought can fall out of his mouth. Logan shows up not too long after, and as soon as he makes eye contact with Kendall, his jaw drops and he wordlessly turns back and darts out of sight. Sighing, Kendall walks in after him and shuts the door behind him.
This was going to be a long day.
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(This time, Carlos cuts just a bit too deep.)
a/n: EVERY SHIP THAT HAS EVER EXISTED EVER IS GOING TO BE IN THIS STORY
I CAN FEEL IT