Disclaimer: Right, I didn't put one last chapter, and I'm too lazy to do it for all the chapters, so just put it this way: If I owned BTR there'd be a new episode every night, and they would all be two hours long. Therefore, no, I do not own Big Time Rush.

Breakdown

Chapter 2: Cracked

"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!" Logan cursed quietly as he glared down at his fist. Carlos and Kendall's hands were flat, indicating paper. Since Logan didn't match them, he was the loser.

"Kendall...you're stronger than me..." the smart boy whined. He was desperate to get out of this. It was the one thing the three dreaded when it was their responsibility more than absolutely anything else they could ever possibly have to do.

Kendall gave Logan his signature smirk and eyebrow raise. "True. But I'm not stronger than him, which means I don't want to do it, either."

"Yeah, but you're not afraid of anything."

"Actually, there are two things I'm afraid of. A lucky comb-less James and a tired, early morning James." The blonde turned a friendly pat on the back into a rough shove toward James and Carlos' room.

"Good luck," Carlos whispered, grinning.

Of course he'd be happy, he's not the one about to be mauled by a six foot one cranky teenage male, Logan thought bitterly.

His legs were shaking so bad he could hardly keep upright by the time he got to the closed door. He turned to see Kendall and Carlos' heads peeking around the corner. They waved him forward encouragingly.

Logan sighed. "There's no getting out of this," he grumped.

Logan sucked in a shaky breath and placed his hand on the knob. Then he turned it, ever-so-slowly, pointlessly procrastinating. He was going to be killed no matter how long he stalled. He knew from experience though, that it was better to just get it over with as quick as possible. The sooner the pain came, the sooner it went away.

Logan entered the room, which was still dark except for the teenie amount of light coming in from the blinds, creating slits of dim sunlight on the blue carpet. James hated waking up to the sun trying to destroy his corneas. Actually, he hated waking up. Period.

Especially when it was this early, but it was important, and Logan knew James would much rather deal with a little blinding sunlight than a screaming, raging producer who could fire them at any given moment for being mere seconds late.

Logan crept silently over to the bed, not caring that it was pointless to be quiet when he would be waking the brunette in a second, anyway.

Logan reached a tense hand out, ready to jerk back at the slightest detection of any sudden movement. "James," he whispered, so quietly he could hardly hear himself.

A small giggle from the doorway caused him to spin around and glare. Carlos stood there with his hand over his mouth, while Kendall leaned against the frame beside him, still smirking. Logan mouthed a few choice words, making the smirk transform into a grin that mirrored Carlos', and now Kendall was almost laughing.

Logan shook his head and turned back to the still form buried under the sheets. "James," he repeated, about one decibel louder. He began shaking James' shoulder, gently at first, then rougher. "James! Wake up!"

Hazel eyes peeked up from beneath narrowed brows, and Logan gulped, backing up a step or five. He smiled sheepishly. "Please?"

James sighed and rolled onto his back, gazing up at the ceiling. "You're lucky I have no energy to be mad, Logan."

Logan laughed nervously. "I, uh, um, sorry. G-Gustavo called and said he wants us at the studio in an hour and a half. I know he said we'd have the day off, but apparently something important came up," he explained, growing more confident when he realized that James wasn't about to roll out of bed to deliver his death sentence...just yet.

James groaned and snatched his pillow from under his head and smushed it over his face. The one morning he wakes up with a killer headache, and they have to go into the studio when he was expecting to have been able to sleep it off for another four hours. Lovely.

"James, hey, come on, you know suffocating yourself won't help. Gustavo would probably have Freight Train give you mouth-to-mouth, then make us sing ten songs. Get up."

The pillow was pulled forcefully off of James' head, and he groaned again and tried to hide under the blankets when Logan turned around. James heard the shades being pulled up, and he squirmed deeper beneath the covers, which were automatically flung to the floor by a now irritated Logan.

"James, come on, the rest of us are just as tired as you, but we've been up for half an hour. So just suck it up, okay?"

Logan almost never got snappy like that, and he immediately felt bad, especially when he noticed how considerably pale James looked now that he could see him. "Hey, are you alright?" he asked, softening his voice.

James sat up and gripped his head in his hands.

"James?"

James forced himself to smile reassuringly up at Logan. "I'm fine, just a little overwhelmed I guess. Last night hardly seems real, you know?"

Logan nodded, not convinced. "Right. I do know. Is that it, though? Nothing else is bothering you? You feel okay? Stressed, over-tired? Just plain sick? You need to tell us these things."

"I-I'm fine." James stood up and instantly regreted his choice of words when he found himself collapsing back onto the bed, fighting dizziness. That was one way to show he was lying.

"James!" Logan sat on the bed next to his friend and pressed his wrist against his forehead, relieved when he felt no sign of fever. Then he scrutinized his friend. His eyes were closed, head resting in his hands, and his breaths were slighty laboured, like he was forcing back nausea. He looked the furthest thing from fine.

"James, the truth, now."

James opened his eyes and fixated his gaze on Logan's serious face. "It's just a little headache, that's all. I swear. Like I said, I'm still feeling a little overwhelmed from this past week. I'm sure that's all it is." He stood again, slower, and this time the room didn't swirl around him. "I have to get ready." He moved to leave the room.

"Wait!" Logan grabbed James' wrist and pulled him back.

"What?" Now James was irritated. Logan knew how long it took him to get his hair to fall just perfect. He needed every last second of his remaining hour and twenty-six minutes.

"First you said you're feeling overwhelmed from last night. Then you just said from this week." Logan stared suspiciously into his friends eyes. "What's going on, James?"

James mentally kicked himself for slipping up like that. He didn't want his friends to know what was really bothering him. He wasn't sure what that would cause, and he didn't want to find out.

"Yeah. I mean, all the rehearsals and practice and...stuff. It's no cake walk, Logan. You were there."

"James. That stuff was all last week. This week was...well, you know what went on this week."

James nodded, eager to end this conversation as quickly as possible. "Yeah, yeah, right. I know. I meant to say last week."

"James-"

"This hair isn't going to style itself," James blurted, and before Logan could react, the taller boy raced out the door and was gone.

Logan sighed and looked around the room. One of James' pillows had fallen to the floor. His blanket was all crumpled up, and the sheet was halfway off the bed. Logan frowned at this. James had always been a pretty sound sleeper. It wasn't like him to wake up and move around in the night.

And the way he'd acted when he woke up. Headaches? Not a James Diamond type of thing. Not attempting to weasel his way into five more minutes of beauty rest? Strange...

Yep. Something was definitely bothering him. That much was easy to see. Now came the hard part: figuring out what it was.

How was it? I tried to make it longer. Hope it's okay!

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