A/N So after crying for about 12 hours straight because in 14 days I get to experience BWU tour I decided to put my angst into a new chapter of Trapped. Excuse me because this AN might be rated T but skcfndioi holy mother nut buckers I can't take it! The rhinestones, and there's a blimp and the pyro and the ramps, and Logan's a stripper and the covergirls and a fucking trampoline! A trampoline! And their initial hats and the tight pants and FUCKING BUCKET HATS and Logan's fucking hair and I am going to jump him and do things to him and my stomach feels like jellow and I can't think and I totally spelled jello wrong and I need help! Help me! *melts into a pool of exploded ovaries*

ANYHOO Omg thanks for all the heart-warming reviews and for reading my story. Yay. *excited dolphin chitter*

"Dude, what are you doing out here? You have been sulking for hours."

James turned around at the sound of Kendall's voice, breaking his gaze on the swirling blue water. He wasn't expecting for anyone to come find him, but especially not Kendall.

"Kendall! Why are you out of bed? You can hardly walk!" James exclaimed, jumping to his feet to help his injured friend. Kendall was hunched over and limping with his arm around his middle and he could barely talk.

"Ah, I'm fine," Kendall insisted, but James ignored him and led him to a chair to sit down in inside one of the cabanas.

"You don't look fine," James said.

"Neither do you," Kendall shot back. James growled and sat on a chair across from Kendall, watching the floating tealight flicker back and forth. There were a couple moments of somewhat awkward silence, which was weird because James never felt awkward around Kendall. Kendall always made him feel comfortable, no matter what. But now he couldn't help but feel like Kendall was watching him, scrutinizing him, waiting for him to spill everything.

"Carlos seems really upset," Kendall finally said. "He was crying earlier, in his room."

James gripped the arms of his chair with anger. He wasn't angry at Carlos at all. He was angry with himself for making his little buddy cry. He would never, ever think of doing that to Carlos, yet he was doing it right now. "He was crying?"

"Yeah dude. Do you know why?"

James shrugged, staring at the tealight. "I don't know, maybe he ran out of corndogs?"

"James," Kendall said disapprovingly. "We both know that's not it." When Kendall received no answer, he sighed and just decided to move the conversation along. "What happened last night, James?"

"Nothing," James said, a little too quickly. His stomach was churning now. He could feel those electric green eyes burning into the top of his head, trying to gain access into James' hazel ones.

"I know that's not true," Kendall said, and James let a tear roll down his cheek. Kendall was alarmed by this, and wondered maybe if he should stop interrogating his friend, but he figured this was the only way to get anything out of him.

"I found this today. I sent Camille and Tyler out to destroy every copy they could find," Kendall said, reaching into his inside jacket pocket and pulling out a folded square of newspaper. He shoved it under James' nose, and the brunette looked at him questioningly before taking the paper and unfolding it. His wet eyes scanned the black ink words and he cringed. It was an article in an entertainment magazine about Lil' Crank-Crank's birthday bash and how he and Carlos ruined the party by starting a brawl in the middle of the dance floor. And there were actual photos of James getting the shit knocked out of him by a dude twice his size.

"Uh-oh," James squeaked. Kendall chuckled.

"Gustavo is going to kill you!"

"Hey any publicity is good publicity right?" James asked. Kendall rolled his eyes and snatched the paper away from him, sticking it back into his pocket.

"Not for a boyband," Kendall said. James attempted a smile, but it looked feeble and weak. Kendall tried to lean across the table, but whimpered and pulled back at the pain in his ribs.

"Look, James, I know something's up. You don't fight. You're like a… Like a chinchilla."

James raised his eyebrows. "Did you just say I was a chinchilla?"

"Chinchilla's are very docile creatures, I think," Kendall said, wrinkling his nose. "Anyway my point is, is that you are not a fighter and lately you have been fighting a lot. You keep snapping at us and Carlos is emotionally wrecked, which doesn't take much to do but you know, still… And you're just not acting very chinchilla-y lately."

James didn't really know what to say. He was tired of having to constantly tell people he was fine. He loved Kendall, but he kind of just wanted to be alone now.

"Kendall, please stop worrying. I'm perfectly fine," James said. He refused to look up. He couldn't face the hurt look in Kendall's eyes that he just knew was there, not after the whole ordeal with Carlos. He couldn't stand the fact that he was hurting his friends.

"James, don't lie to me! I know something is wrong," Kendall said, his voice a bit high pitched now. "Just tell me. Tell me what it is that I can do to help you and I'll do it. You haven't been the same since the incident and… I need you to get better now. Please let me help you get better."

James blinked slowly, willing the tears that were welling up to go away. His head pounded with every word Kendall spoke. He didn't want to talk, he wanted to go to sleep.

Kendall let out a huff of air that he didn't realize he had been holding. He was getting frustrated now. James just held his gaze on that stupid tealight, refusing to give Kendall a proper answer.

"James, look at me," Kendall said. His tone was low and gentle, but James could hear the command in his voice. Still, James just stared at the candle through a veil of auburn hair. He blinked, startled, when Kendall suddenly blew out it. A tiny wisp of black smoke appeared in place of the flame, and James watched it twirl up above the Kendall before it finally disapparated into the air.

"James," Kendall whispered, and this time it was a plead rather than a command. Finally, James looked at his scared best friend. "Please tell me what to do, James. I've never dealt with anything like this before, ok? I mean, I always help you guys out when Gustavo is mean, or when one of you 'accidently' walks into the girl's locker room. Silly stuff like that. I'm supposed to be the leader, I'm supposed to be the one helping you right now but I don't know how this time."

James was heartbroken to find out that Kendall felt this way. He leaned forward and squeezed Kendall's hand, trying to offer him some sort of comfort. Kendall sniffed, his cheeks turning pink. He didn't mean to suddenly blurt out all that stuff, but he couldn't help it.

"I don't need help, Kendall. I'm fine, just stressed. That's all. And I'm sorry, ok?"

Kendall nodded, but he didn't seem very satisfied.

"Do you trust me?" James asked in a small voice.

"Of course I trust you," Kendall said quickly, wondering what kind of question that was.

"Than just… Trust me, ok?" James said, releasing Kendall's hand and scooting his chair back. He gave Kendall a small smile and left the cabana.

A/N Oh I know that was sooo short I am sorry! I am so stinking tired like I fell off my bed twice writing this because I kept almost falling asleep. Sorry there wasn't much action!

Ok so I was thinking that at the merch table at the show they should sell tiny stuffed replicas of Fox.

Reviews are fluffy bunnies.