A/N. It's past 3 am and there is literally no way I can say anything intelligent. Except for the fact that i apologize for all the dumb spelling mistakes in the last chapter. I had two drafts, one with mistakes and one I had proofread, and i submitted the wrong one. Hopefully this one turned out better.

Kendall can count on one hand the amount of times that he's been at a loss for words. Being rendered speechless just isn't something that happens to Kendall, especially when it has something to do with someone close to him. But now, all he can do is stare at Logan, his mind racing at a million miles an hour while the connection between his brain and his mouth seems to be nonexistent.

Katie and Carlos are far from silent however. Katie is in tears, not from joy like she was earlier or the day before. These tears are far from happy. Kendall catches a glimpse of her terrified, grief-stricken face before she hides it from them behind shaking hands. Carlos is almost crying himself, but he's trying to hold onto that slim hope that it's just a dream and not a real memory.

"What happened?" he demands in a choked whisper. "What happened in your dream, Logan?"

Logan looks completely horrified at the result of his question. His eyes dart all around the room, staring at everyone. "I-I don't know," he says falteringly. "It was k-kind of a b-blur. It wasn't j-just one time, it was like this mini m-montage."

"Montage," Kendall repeats, finding his voice. "What do you mean montage, Logan? Like it happened more than once?"

"Kendall," his mother says gently. She touches his shoulder and then looks over at Logan. "Logan, look at me, sweetheart. Tell us what you remember in your dream."

Her voice is calm and quiet, soothing to Logan even though it isn't to Kendall. Logan takes a deep breath and tries to explain. "I just. . . last night before I fell asleep, I was thinking about my dad. He seemed to be the key to me getting memory back yesterday so I thought that I might remember even more if I concentrated on him."

Kendall can feel guilt fighting for a place in his heart along with fear, hurt, confusion, anger and jealousy. He doesn't understand anything. Why was Logan thinking about his dad before he went to sleep? Why hasn't he told anyone about his father's apparent abuse?

"I don't know how old I was," Logan admits, and Kendall refocuses back on his brother, listening intently. "I just remember him being angry and. . . me being scared. And it. . . it hurt."

"Why didn't you ever tell us though?" Carlos asks shakily. "Logan, did this really happen?"

Looking pressured, Logan runs a hand through his hair and shrugs helplessly. "I don't- I don't know." He looks at them hopefully. "Maybe it didn't. Maybe it was just a dream. That's possible, right? Don't I tell you everything?"

"I thought you did," Kendall replies quietly. "but now I'm not so sure."

He regrets it the instant the words are out of his mouth and the hurt flashes across Logan's face. But at the same time, anger, directed at a dead Ryan Mitchell, has no place to go except at Logan. As hard as Kendall tries to rein his temper in, he knows he's failing.

"Logan, this can't be a real memory," he says, shaking his head. "It doesn't make any sense. Your dad was a loser yeah, but-"

"Stop calling him that," Logan protests weakly. "It's not fair because-"

"Logan, you're saying that your dad used to hit you!" Kendall shouts, the tension rising at an unavoidable rate. "You know what's not fair? The fact that your dad might have been abusing you when you wasn't neglecting you. The fact that you didn't tell anyone. Why? Because you didn't trust us?"

"Kendall," his mother steps in a tries to intervene.

"We've given you everything, Logan, and the one thing we wanted in return was for you to trust us. How do we know anything now? Is there anything else that you haven't told us?"

"Kendall, please-"

Even the sound of Logan practically in tears can't stop Kendall. Not yet anyway. "I'm just wondering, Logan. Because all this time I thought you told us everything. I thought you trusted us. And now we find out that you were hiding the most important part of your life from us!"

"Kendall, that is enough!" Mrs. Knight raises her voice. "This isn't helping anything. I want you to sit back down and stay quiet while we sort everything out. You getting angry is only making things worse right now."

It's only when his mother snaps at him that Kendall can really see again. Then he sees Logan crying and everything stops. "Logan," he says, forgetting his anger for the time being. "Logan, I'm sorry."

He reaches out and for an instant, Logan flinches away. Kendall catches his breath. Not again. They just got over this. Refusing to give up right away, Kendall tries again and sighs in relief when this time, Logan lets him put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he repeats.

"It's okay," Logan says forgivingly. He drags a hand over his eyes, wiping away tears. "You were angry. I just- Kendall, maybe it's not real. Maybe it was just a dream."

He's been saying that, but the more he does, the easier it is to believe him. He doesn't remember his dad like he used to and anything can happen in dreams. All he's heard is bad things about his dad. The longer Kendall thinks about it, the more it all starts to make sense.

Except for James. Because James hasn't said a single word since Logan's question. Kendall turns to look at his friend and feels his heart sink. James is crying. Not like Katie or Carlos with the fear and uncertainty. He looks about eight years old and truly heartbroken.

"Jay," Kendall says gently. "James, listen to me. Logan is right. It could have been just a dream. It makes sense if you think about it because-"

"No," James interrupts, shaking his head. "It's not just a dream. I'm almost positive that it isn't. It's real."

Silence. Finally, Mrs. Knight steps in again. "James," she says, trying to sound calm and quiet. "What are you talking about, honey? How do you know that Logan's dream is a memory?"

James looks up at them and the expression on his face is something Kendall will never ever forget. The image is burned into his mind for the rest of his life. His hazel eyes, usually lit up with a fiery passion, are filled with a childlike horror that has been well hidden for years. "Because," he whispers, sounding eerie and trancelike. "I used to think it happened. The. . . abuse."

"What are you talking about?" Kendall asks him, feeling sick to his stomach. He's never seen James look so upset or frightened before. Not even after Logan's accident when they were in the hospital. There's something about this fear that's different and scares even Kendall.

"When we were eight or nine," James says faintly. "Logan stayed home sick from school for two or three days straight, remember? The first day, I volunteered to take his homework to him so I could ask him a quick question about something i didn't understand in school."

Next to Kendall, Logan sits up straighter in his chair, eyes widening. "James-"

"What happened?" Kendall demands, before Logan can say anything else. He leans forward and grabs James' arm, holding onto him tightly so he can't move. "James," he pleads. "What happened that day?"

James is shaking so badly that Kendall is almost afraid he's going to have a seizure. His face is unnaturally pale and he can't look anyone in the eye. "You came downstairs," he says to Logan while staring the table. "and you opened the front door, but not all the way. I could hardly see you."

Finally. Finally, James looks up, but only at Logan. It's like no one else is even there. "You were acting so weird. . . your voice. . .it sounded so different. I never saw anything, but something just wasn't right."

His voice fades into a whisper that they can barely hear. "And then after that. . . after that I would sometimes hear you. . . crying at night. Like when we had sleepovers. I've always had trouble, sleeping, remember that? Sometimes I'd be laying awake and. . . you would cry. . . and say things."

What kind of things? Kendall wants to scream. This can't be happening. They're just starting to get things back to the way they should. Logan's memory is coming back and even though not all of those memories are good, how can they be this bad? How can they be real?

"You would say things like, "Please stop," and "Don't" and "I'm sorry." I tried to wake you up once or twice, but you pulled away and you just seemed so scared that I didn't want to keep trying. I didn't want to scare you more, Logan. You were already so scared and so sad and I wanted to help you, but I couldn't. I tried and I-"

"James honey, I need you to calm down and take a deep breath," Mrs. Knight moves from Logan's side to James' and a hand on his shoulder. But James is past the point of immediate comfort. He's crying too hard to speak now, but trying to choke out some sort of apology.

Kendall feels Katie crawl into his lap and unconsciously, he wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly, as if to shield her from a disaster that no one saw coming. "I'm sorry," he says, echoing James' apology with no idea of who he's apologizing to at the moment. All he knows is that he's sorry for everything and there's no way that he can make any of it up. There's no going back. They can only move forward. He just wishes that he knew how.

"Listen to me," he can hear his mother saying to James.

"It's all my fault," James says, shaking his head. "I should have said something that first day, but I didn't. I was scared and confused and what if I was wrong? I would have caused so much trouble and it would have all been for nothing. But. . . but now. . . I just made it worse."

"It's my fault," Logan breaks in, unable to take his eyes off his shattered friend. "James. . . you were eight, what were you supposed to say? You. . . you didn't even know for sure."

Kendall wishes he could be eight so he could hold his hands over his ears. This is it. Logan and James are confirming Ryan Mitchell's abuse of Logan. They've gone from questioning it to confirming it. It's true. It really happened. Logan was abused by his father.

An icy cold steals over Kendall, making it difficult for him to breathe right. His mind is trying to process the awful truth and he holds Katie and watches his mother try to comfort both James and Logan at the same time.

Logan suddenly moves towards James who nearly falls backwards. "James," he whispers. "James, don't do this."

"But it's my fault," James repeats, shaking his head violently. "I could have stopped it. I should have stopped it, Logan. All I needed to do was say something and instead I put you through six years of hell because I was too cowardly to speak up. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me. . . if all of you hated me. I hate myself."

Again, Logan reaches out to James, this time succeeding in wrapping his arms around his older friend. "I don't hate you," he murmurs quietly. "I could never hate you, James."

Kendall watches James slowly return the embrace and hold Logan so gently that it's as if he's made of glass. As if he still has bruises. He watches as his friend look at him from over Logan's shoulder, his hazel eyes full of pained regret. He's asking him, Kendall, if he hates him.

Of course he is. It's a logical question to ask. But the answer is just as logical to Kendall. He looks James straight in the eye and slowly, but firmly shakes his head. No. There's no way. He's not going to hate James for Ryan Mitchell's sins.

James practically melts in relief and looks like he might cry. Kendall opens his mouth to say something, but is stopped when his mother speaks first.

"Where is Carlos?" She stands up from James' side and looks around the room. "Did anyone see him leave?"

"I'm here," Carlos walks back into the room, his face strangely blank. "Sorry. I had to leave for a minute." He holds up his cell phone and in a scared tone of voice that Kendall never wants to hear from him again, says, "I called my dad."

A/N. It's extremely short, but the next chapter should be a lot longer. In the meantime, thank you for reading and get some sleep for me! Have a nice week, guys!