Wrote one of my fave scenes from the entire story in this chapter. I think it's an easy guess as to which one.

Exciting Fact: It's 2:30 in the morning and a flock of geese just flew over my house and scared the crap out of me. Now you may proceed.

BIG TIME MOVIE! ! ! ! ! Just saying.

Breakdown

Chapter 34: Repression

Jo walked into the waiting room of the LA Hospital and was instantly awash with worry. Kendall, Logan, Carlos, Katie, Mrs. Knight, Mrs. Diamond and Mrs. Garcia were sitting tight-lipped and pale-faced, visibly troubled. Jo gulped nervously. Something was up.

She knew it had to be James. She was aware of his return to consciousness; Kendall had called not long ago, but his voice had been seemingly strained, like he was exasperated but also holding back a much more somber emotion. The only thing Jo could come up with was a complication of some sort, involving James.

Jo hurried over to where the weary, somber group waited. All Kendall could offer her as she came over was a nod of acknowledgment. Not even a smile. Not even a half a smile. Yes, something bad had happened.

As if the exhausted, discouraged expressions on the faces of them all wasn't proof enough, the tension was a dead give-away. The air was thick enough to slice through with a single word; nobody spoke. Even the other habitants of the waiting room seemed to be silent. Jo was not the one to break the silence as she sat down; Dr. Anderson was as he appeared.

Before he'd even approached them they knew. The look on his face said it all; apologetic eyes, mouth set in a thin line, a grim demeanor chasing him around like it had been all of them for a ridiculously long time.

Dr. Anderson stopped in front of them as they all stood up, except for Kendall and Logan, both of whom had been pacing restlessly. They looked wearily at Dr. Anderson.

"We ran the tests," he stated. "There is no sign of head trauma causing a lapse in memory. It's repression."

Brooke shook her head as she turned away. That was it then. She had to tell him. They couldn't fix it; it was all a waiting game, unless she chose to save him the suffering and torture of remembering at the worst possible time, as opposed to just telling him now and getting it over with. It was the only way that made sense, and even though none of her limited options would do him any good, telling him before the memories resurfaced on their own at any random moment would do him best.

...Wouldn't it?

James flicked his gaze up from where it had been steadily trained on the big needle stuck into the top of his hand to the door when Dr. Anderson and his mother came in. He could see everyone else gathered in the hallway by his door. He was a little surprised to see Jo there as well, but he pushed his curiosity aside and asked if his friends could come in before Brooke or the doctor had a chance to speak.

"It'd be best not to-"

"Yes," Brooke interrupted. She nodded firmly at Dr. Anderson. "Those boy's are practically James' brothers. I honestly think them being in here when James hears this will make it easier on him. Besides, they were there for everything. They know more than you or I do."

Dr. Anderson supposed that was a fair point, and he went back to the door and called the boys in. While the females remained waiting in the hall, respectful and understanding of the request, the boys followed Dr. Anderson over to James' bed with fake smiles plastered on their faces.

"Hey bud, how are you feeling?" Logan asked.

"I just want to know what happened." James' voice was quiet, sustained. He could have yelled if he wanted to. He did want to. But he didn't have the energy.

Logan nodded. "I know. That...that's what we're here to tell you." He took a shaky breath and backed up a step as Dr. Anderson took over.

"First of all, James, you need to be aware that this may be very hard on you. If at any point you want us to stop speaking, just interrupt. We won't force you to listen if you feel you can't."

James nodded. He understood. But was it really that bad? He was beginning to have second thoughts. Maybe he didn't want to know. With the way everyone was acting and talking, he felt more and more nervous. Was it worth hearing?

Yes, it is, he decided. No matter how bad it was, he knew that not knowing would bother him even more.

So James gave a firm nod and said "I'm ready."

"You remember your suicide attempt."

Nod.

"And you remember everything that happened after that."

Nod.

"Except for any mention of counseling."

Pause. Head shake.

"We...we talked about counseling?"

"Yes. Throughout all those weeks you remember, the discussion of therapy was a major one."

James shook his head again. "I don't...I don't remember that."

"Well, there's more, so sit tight."

"We didn't just discuss counseling." Logan picked up from where Kendall had left off. "You actually attended counseling. You thought you wouldn't like it, but you didn't actually mind it that much. And it was helping. You were getting better..." He trailed off. James had been getting better. Then Dr. Clark had gone and threatened him and messed him up again. But James didn't remember that. And now, making him relive it...it just wasn't fair. It was even more unfair to James than letting him suffer through the loss of memory would be.

"You were getting better," Logan repeated in a whisper. "...and that's why we can't do this."

Four heads jerked sharply towards him, and James' eyes, already having been staring at Logan, narrowed.

"What?" Kendall took an angry step closer to Logan. "Logan, we agreed already-"

"I don't care. We can't make him relive that! Are you forgetting something: how messed up he's been? ! I'm not going to let him go through that again, the nightmares, the screaming, the helplessness-"

"That's not your decision to make, Logan!"

James watched the engagement with growing impatience and increasing worry. He didn't want his friends to be fighting over this, but with the things they were saying, he wasn't so sure he did want to know. Maybe Logan was right. Maybe he shouldn't try to remember; maybe he should let them protect him. It seemed serious enough, whatever it was, and even though that only made the wonder more intense, maybe it was worth it.

The nightmares? The screaming, the helplessness? Those certainly sounded like things associated with horrible, terrorizing memories.

But then again, Kendall had a point, too. It wasn't Logan's decision; it was his. All his. He, ultimately, was the one to decide whether he wanted to know what had landed him in the hospital or not. And though that concern had been the first thing on his mind when he'd woken up- the only thing on his mind- he wasn't so sure it was all that crucial to know anymore.

Shouting and arguing brought James back to present events, and just as he was about to shout himself, to get Logan and Kendall and now Carlos to stop hollering, he saw it.

Dr. Anderson's face. It was warped, altering, twisting and melding into someone else's face. His thin bronze hair thickened and lightened. The slight wrinkles in his forehead smoothed out, and he took on a more youthful appearance, appearing now to be between thirty and thirty-five, as opposed to just over forty. And his smile...that smile. It grew and grew and grew, and his lips pulled apart to reveal sparkling white teeth. But they weren't shiny with health and happiness. No, they glinted. Glinted evilly, with contempt. James could see it in the eyes, once brown, now chillingly icy blue. It didn't matter that this new man was smiling; James could feel the immorality radiating off of him. He was the opposite of Dr. Anderson; harmful, sinister, a monstrosity. James didn't know how he knew this. He just did.

But wait...wasn't this man familiar, somehow? From somewhere? Wasn't he part of the reason James was...

James choked on the gasp that tried to force its way from his throat. Not because he'd realized who this man was, but because he realized why he was staring at James with such a reproachful smirk.

Everybody else was gone. They had simply disappeared without attracting his attention. Now it was just him and this horrid being Dr. Anderson had turned into. James' eyes went from the menacing smile to the object in Dr. Clark's hand.

Dr. Clark? Where did that name come from?...

James couldn't dwell on it, because he'd made the fatal mistake of blinking, and now the gun was already smoking...

Sylvia's heart stopped. Jennifer's skipped a beat, Jo's dropped to her feet, and Katie's nearly slammed out of her chest when the spine-tingling, pulse-racing scream ripped from the room and pierced the air. The entire hospital had to have heard it, and now there was pandemonium. Nurses were bustling down the hall, appearing from nowhere and everywhere, rushing into the room.

James' room.

The shrieks didn't cease, only grew in volume, and Katie instinctively slapped her hands over her ears. She didn't want to hear her brother's best friend wailing like that, but her small hands offered no protection from the awful sound, not even the faintest smothering. She spun and buried her face against her mother's chest, feeling her heart match Jennifer's in it's rapid thrumming.

Jo's hand went over her mouth, and tears quickly sprung to her eyes. She wanted, exactly like the rest of them, to run in there after the nurses to find out what was accounting for the horrible, horrible noises coming from her friend. But she felt Sylvia's arm on hers, preventing her from bursting into the room, despite the fact that Jo already knew better than to get in the way of the nurses even though every fiber of her being was crackling with the tension of restraint.

Katie sobbed loudly. She didn't care if she looked weak; the concern never even crossed her mind. This wasn't about her. It was about James, and right now, he was being broken down, and therefore, so was she, and everyone else here for him.

They stood there and listened to the screams and the shouts of the nurses and doctors, until, at length, the screeches died down, and a soft sobbing could be heard.

Katie lifted her head from her mother's shoulder as Jo shakily asked "W-what do you think h-happened?"

Mrs Knight shook her head as she pulled Katie even closer to her. "They told him."

Jo spun and began pacing, taking five steps down the hall and five steps back, over and over in succession. She'd only recently found out about this entire thing; it had only been a week. She never knew that James' counseling sessions had all been part of a plot for revenge. Sick, twisted, inconceivable revenge.

She'd felt bad enough when Kendall had told her, but now this; hearing, not even yet seeing, James in a state of sheer terror. How was he supposed to go on? How would he ever trust again? And worse yet, how would he get help? He clearly needed it, but it was impossible for anyone to expect him to go back to another counselor. He'd be haunted by nightmares every night; he'd flinch every time he passed by a stranger, have a meltdown if ever he saw someone who resembled Dr. Clark...

It just wasn't fair. Jo was sure all four of the boys had thought that too many times to count already, but it was so true, and though Jo knew sympathy would do nothing for the shattered boy, it was all she could offer. No words, no gentle touch, would ever soothe the internal agony or heal the scars of his mind. He was truly, utterly broken.

Maybe beyond repair.

Clark. Why is that name so familiar? I know this guy...

He's a doctor? How?

Oh, god, he wants to kill me. Wait, he already did kill me.

So I must be in hell. But if I was, wouldn't he still be standing there?

James' thoughts raced around in his head, crashing into each other, blending together, but ultimately leading him to realize two things: Dr. Clark was gone. And James had no idea why he was so scared of him.

Gradually James' senses returned. He could hear voices, a multitude of them, far more than just those of Dr. Anderson, his mother, and his three friends.

And now he could see the source of the voices: Several nurses were crowded about the room, attempting to calm him down. It wasn't until then that he noticed just how worked up he really was.

He knew he'd been screaming, but he also felt himself trembling hard, and sweat had broken out upon his entire body. He felt very hot yet was experiencing unsettling chills simultaneously. Only his face felt cool, and wet. He wiped hastily at his tears and blinked the remaining ones from his eyes, peering up at the group of unfamiliar faces.

"James, my baby, what happened? ! Doctor, what happened to him? James, please, answer me!"

He saw, looking past the new nurses, his friends, all with panic-stricken expressions, holding onto his mother as she struggled in their grasps to reach out for him.

Brooke took notice of James' sudden calmness and relaxed a tiny bit herself. The boys released her, and she hurried up beside Dr. Anderson, who was telling the other nurses that they could leave; the teen didn't need to be restrained, or crowded.

James' eyes went wide, and he winced. Had they really been planning on restraining him?

Everything seemed sped up. One of the nurses said something to Dr. Anderson that was inaudible to James, and then she and the rest of the nurses filed out of the room.

It seemed like only a second had gone by since James had returned to reality, and already he was composed again. He wasn't even sure why he'd been freaking out in the first place. One moment Kendall and Logan had been fighting, the next James was screaming his head off. But at what? Another thing he couldn't remember.

"James? Are you with us?"

James stared at the remaining occupants of his room. They looked worried. Right, because something was wrong with him. He should probably answer them.

James nodded slowly, though he wasn't sure he really was with them. He just felt so out of it. But he affirmed his awareness with a small nod.

Brooke hovered closer over the bed. "Sweetie, what just happened? Are you okay? Can you speak? Are you-"

"Mom, I..." But what was he? He wasn't fine like he was going to say. He was far from it.

Fresh tears welled up in James' eyes. He may not know what he was, but he certainly knew what he wasn't.

Himself.

Sylvia and Jo glanced over at the door as it opened and the gloomy looking- no, gloomy was an understatement- scared, hurt, frustrated, confused, exhausted, wrecked-looking boys slumped out, minus James, of course. Logan, the last one out, closed the door behind him, a sign that Dr. Anderson and Brooke had some private or more serious matters to discuss within earshot of James.

The other three boys of the suffering Big Time Rush were pale and visibly shaken up, but how could they not be? The four ladies in the hall had been horrified enough themselves when they'd heard the screams; Logan, Kendall, and Carlos had been in the room. It was no wonder they looked so deeply, deeply disturbed.

Kendall went to Jo and she wrapped her arms around him in a embrace that was not remotely comforting.

Carlos shuffled over to his mom and let her half hug him the best she could with his injury and sling in the way, and she stroked his hair and whispered soothing words to him as he silently wept. Logan was left standing awkwardly in the middle of the hall, but he didn't think too much of it. His mind was on more pressing matters, like the one Jo voiced not a second later.

"What happened in there?" she murmured, leaning her head on Kendall's shoulder.

Logan sucked in a lungful of air and expelled it before replying, "He's starting to remember...at least, that's what I think. We hadn't even told him anything, and he just...went off like he remembered himself."

Kendall shook his head and glanced down the hall to avoid making eye contact with anyone. In the middle of the chaos, he'd forgotten about his and Logan's quarrel. He still wasn't sure about what Logan had said, but he didn't want to think about that now. James had just remembered something on his own, possibly. Probably. Would he remember all of it in time? And if so, in how much time?

"Is he...alright?" Sylvia questioned.

Logan shrugged. "He calmed right down after a minute. It was as if it hadn't happened. It was so..."

"Awful." Carlos sobbed loudly, but he only allowed that one to escape. He didn't want to cry; he wanted to be strong. For James. It was just so, so hard.

They fell into silence then, unsure of what to say, unable to think of anything to say.

Finally Kendall asked where his mother and sister were.

"Your mother took Katie to the washroom to freshen up. She was a bit of a mess after we heard..." Sylvia trailed off, not eager to mention the heart-stopping shrieks.

Kendall just nodded vaguely and continued to stare down the long white corridor.

After a few minutes Katie and Mrs. Knight still hadn't returned, and Brooke and Dr. Anderson were still in the room with James. Logan was the only one facing Carlos and his mom, and him being Logan, it was no surprise that he spotted it; the crease in Carlos' forehead, the way his lips kept twitching, and the unusual paleness that washed out his normally tan complexion. He was in pain.

"Carlos, what's wrong buddy? Your shoulder bothering you?"

Carlos glanced up sharply, not expecting to hear that question. He figured everyone was so lost in their own thoughts that nobody would notice. Honestly, he hadn't really noticed it himself; he was scarcely aware of the pain, but now that Logan mentioned it, he realized that his shoulder was throbbing with a unpleasant burning sensation.

But he figured it wasn't his place to complain; he'd taken a bullet, yet he was still in better shape than James. His best friend lying in a hospital bed, suffering both mentally and physically alike, that was where all their concerns should lay, and only there. Carlos' injury was a scratch compared to all of James', in a broad spectrum. Carlos was stable mentally.

But all attention had been called to him, and he was beginning to think that maybe he should just admit that his bullet wound was causing him a fairly great amount of discomfort. After all, it wasn't like they were helping James by just standing out here, and it wasn't like Carlos informing them that yes, he was in pain was going to cause James more harm.

So Carlos sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. A bit."

"Of course," Sylvia muttered suddenly. "We've been at the hospital all day; you didn't take your pain medication."

Carlos squirmed as a particularly violent wave of pain washed through his entire arm, and he gasped, his face going completely white, and he held his arm tightly against his body.

Sylvia shushed him gently through the pain, and when it was over, some colour returned to Carlos' face, and he nodded at his mom to show her he was okay now.

"I'll run to the apartment and grab it," Sylvia said once she was sure her son was better.

"No, I'll go," Logan interjected. "You stay here with Carlos."

"Are you sure?" Sylvia asked.

Logan nodded. "It's no problem. They might be a while in there-" He tilted his head in the direction of James' room. "-and I'll be quick."

Sylvia smiled. "Thanks, Logan."

"It's no problem. Carlos, do you want anything else from the apartment?"

Carlos didn't even have to think for two seconds. "My helmet," he said decidedly. Then, "Wait. Two helmets. One for me, one for James."

Logan chuckled. Carlos was too sweet. "Two helmets and one bottle of pain killers. No problem. I'll be as quick as I can."

Logan hurried off, and Sylvia continued to soothe her son, and Kendall and Jo remained silent.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" Sylvia asked her son.

"Yeah. Thanks, Mom." Carlos adopted a frown. "But...I'd be a lot better if I knew James was okay."

"We all would," Kendall piped up, in a low monotone. At this point he wasn't even trying to display his emotions through his voice. He was defeated, and he was past being sad. He just wanted this all to be over.

But he knew, and Logan knew, and Carlos knew, and everyone else knew that over it was far from.

"You-you turned into someone else. But I don't remember what he looked like, or who he was. All I know is that I was terrified of him..." Tears welled up in James' eyes, but they weren't from fear. They were from frustration. He was sick of being afraid of what he didn't know.

"James, I am deeply sorry to have to tell you this," Dr. Anderson began, genuinely sorrowfully. "But this very well may happen for some time. There is no telling how your mind is going to handle this. Right now you should rest, but soon we are going to need you to make the ultimate decision of whether you truly want to know or not. I don't believe witnessing your friends fighting over the matter is going to help you any."

James nodded in understanding. He was calmer, and therefore more rational, but he was still a bit shaken up. His trembling hadn't completely ceased.

Brooke ran her fingers through his hair gently, sighing. She had no idea what her baby had done to deserve this. Any of it. She wished she had the power to stop it, to stop the memories from returning to him. But it wasn't something that could be controlled.

James pushed his mother's hand away wearily. His entire body was hurting, and her stroking his hair was only exacerbating his headache, which in turn caused him all the more all-over discomfort.

Brooke forced a weak smile, for his sake, and pulled her hand back.

"Try to go to sleep, sweetie," she suggested. "You don't have to decide right now."

James nodded. His mother mother placed a kiss atop his head, then she and Dr. Anderson quietly left the room.

James lay on his back, the position that caused him the least amount of pain, though he was still miserable and quite uneasy, for obvious reasons.

He didn't feel tired. And he certainly didn't feel like going to sleep. But he wasn't avoiding sleep because he wasn't sleepy. He was avoiding it because he was afraid.

If he had terrifying visions when he was awake, how could he expect to be nightmare-free in sleep?

Maybe he wouldn't even need to decide whether or not he wanted to be told. Maybe his dreams would tell him. And- no maybe about this- that would be worse than hearing it.

Logan pushed the key into the lock of 2J. He turned the key and swung the door open, entering and shutting the door behind him. He hummed to himself as he fished Carlos' medication from the cupboard and picked up a helmet that Carlos had lazily tossed onto the couch at an earlier date.. Then Logan headed to James and Carlos' room, knowing that was where the rest of Carlos' helmets would be stashed.

Logan made his way into the dark room and flicked on the light. He saw another helmet laying atop Carlos' bed, and he smiled. That had been quick and easy. He'd be back to the hospital before Dr. Anderson had even come out of James' room. Maybe he wouldn't miss anything.

Logan turned for the door and stopped humming. A noise. A gentle thump, from the kitchen. He paused, holding his breath and listening hard. Nothing.

Heart pounding nearly through his chest, Logan crept silently out of the bedroom and tiptoed cautiously down the hall. He stopped again at the end of the hall and slowly, ever so slowly, peeked around the corner and peered into the kitchen.

Empty. Nobody there.

Logan remained standing hidden behind the wall for a moment more, continuing to strain his ears. He knew he had heard something. Someone was in the apartment with him.

Logan began to tremble. He actually wished the noise would repeat itself, just so he could determine the location of the intruder. But all was silent.

Finally, after nearly five minutes of shaking in the hallway, Logan stepped around the corner and into the kitchen area. He spun, head snapping to look every which way. At first he saw nothing. But then he noticed. The door. It was open.

A shiver of terror nearly sent Logan into convulsions. He was one hundred percent certain that he had closed it when he'd entered. But he hadn't even thought about locking it. He hadn't needed to. At least, he thought he hadn't. Now he really wished he had. But it was too late.

Fighting the urge to burst into helpless tears, Logan moved to the counter and slid open the drawer with the knives. And notthe butter knives. The long, sharp, meat-hacking knives that glinted with deathly promises in the light.

Logan took one out, feeling along the dull side to make sure he grabbed the biggest, most lethal one, without taking his eyes off the door.

Someone was standing behind it.

It took everything Logan had to keep his legs from collapsing beneath him as he made his way over to the door.

He wished he could scream, loud enough so that every single person in the Palm Woods would hear him and come running to his rescue. But he knew that would be stupid. The intruder behind the door would swing it closed and have Logan on the floor and most likely dead before anyone made it to 2J.

The knife suddenly felt useless in Logan's hand, but he kept his grip on it anyway, despite the fear that it might be turned against him, and took one step closer to the door.

And then it swung shut, slamming loudly. Logan yelped and jumped in surprise. His fingers twitched, and his grip on the knife loosened, but he didn't let it slip from his grasp.

He gasped. The man standing before him chuckled darkly, and even if Logan had closed his eyes before he'd seen Hawk, he would have known it was him from that evil, demented laugh.

Logan's mouth went dry. He couldn't speak. His mind was on the verge of shutting down. Movement wasn't possible right then.

Hawk's teeth glinted even more menacingly than the blade of the knife as his lips pulled apart in a sinister grin.

"Ah, Logan Mitchell, the so called 'brains' of BTR." Hawk tsked with his tongue and shook his head in a disapproving manner. "You may want to rethink your title. Going anywhere alone is stupid enough, but not locking the door..." He trailed off, and, as if furthering his point, locked the door behind him.

Suddenly breathing became a privilege Logan had lost to his stupidity; his chest tightened, and his vision went hazy and grey with the lack of oxygen. Only when Hawk stepped toward him did Logan's mind heed the warning, and sensation returned to his weakening body.

Logan stumbled backwards. He regained his balance and held the knife out in front of him. Its wavering in his hand betrayed his fear.

"Wh-what the hell do you want?"

Hawk glanced about the apartment casually, as if completely unaffected by the threat of a knife pointing at him. He travelled closer to Logan.

"I want the same thing I've been after since Gustavo brought you fools out here: Revenge."

Logan swallowed back his revulsion. Hawk was the sickest man he'd ever met. "James is in the hospital. Thanks to you and your psychotic, fucked up henchman, he's totally messed up. Carlos was in the hospital a week ago. We're never going to get the band back on track. Gustavo is going to lose his business. You've won. What more 'revenge' could you possibly need? !"

Hawk's eyes darkened. "Your friends got my acquaintance killed. I think I deserve more satisfaction due to your suffering, don't you?"

"I think you've done enough to us!" Logan shouted back, his fear morphing into rage. He steadied the knife in his hand and raised it higher.

Hawk saw Logan's faltering resolve itself, and so he went no closer to the knife-wielding boy, but still he did not retreat.

"You shouldn't worry so much," Hawk went on, each word he spoke amplifying the red hot volcano of fury bubbling inside Logan's stomach. "What I have in store for you next won't physically harm any of you- Well, I suppose that depends on how well or poorly behaved the new 'roommates' will be."

What? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Logan decided he didn't care. Not right then, at least. All he cared about was getting this despicable man out of their lives, forever.

Motivated purely by blinding rage and adrenalin, Logan surged forward with a cry, and he thrust the knife toward Hawk.

Surprisingly quickly, Hawk shot his arm forward and grabbed hold of Logan's wrist. He twisted, and Logan cried out and let the knife fall from his grasp so that his wrist would not snap. To his surprise, Hawk didn't dive for the knife. Instead, he backed away from Logan.

"Shocking as this may sound, my intention here is not to hurt you," he began. "I'm not innocent if I lay a hand on you any more than I just did. I've already plotted my revenge and put my plan into action. All that's left to do is wait. I just want to give you a little advice."

"And what would that be?" Logan spat, his chest heaving.

Hawk grinned again. "Start packing."

Before Logan could react to that, Hawk had unlocked and was out the door with a caw! Caw!, leaving Logan to wonder with a panicking mind what revenge he was talking about this time, and what the hell 'start packing' meant.

As it turned out, Logan wouldn't find out until after everyone else. He hadn't yet returned to the hospital when it happened.

Brooke and Dr. Anderson had come out of James' room and explained to them what they'd told James; that they were going to let him sleep on it, then decide, himself, whether or not he wanted to be told.

They were sitting in the waiting room, anxiously anticipating Logan's return. Every time they heard the sliding doors open, each of them leaned forward in their chairs to see if it was him.

After several minutes of nobody entering the hospital, the door slid open again. Everybody leaned forward expectantly, but Logan did not appear.

The police did.

There were two of them. Kendall didn't recognize either of them from when he'd seen the LAPD before, but he still felt his breath catch in his throat. His heart raced. This was too much like last time...

And then a different thought crossed his mind, one that filled his every pore with dread.

Had something happened to Logan?

Kendall turned and caught Carlos' and Jo's glances. They were the only other ones who had seen the cops. Everyone else's heads were down in thought. Both looked equally as confused yet slightly afraid as Kendall felt.

They saw that the police had spotted them all, and the officers headed over at a brisk pace. Murmurs filled the waiting room as most of its occupants detected the uniformed men.

They stopped in front of Kendall.

Mrs. Knight, obviously now having noticed the cop's presence, moved to stand up and ask the officers what was going on. But one motioned for her to sit while the other sized up Kendall and nodded to the other officer.

"It's him."

His fellow officer stared Kendall right in the eye and asked "Kendall Knight?"

Kendall glanced at his mom, gulping loudly. She opened her mouth to protest: "What do you want with my son?"

The officers ignored her. "Kendall Knight?" the same one repeated.

Kendall nodded, not trusting his mouth to be able to form coherent words.

One officer grabbed his arm and gruffly hauled him to his feet.

"Hey!-"

The other produced a pair of handcuffs and slapped them around Kendall's wrists.

"What is going on-"

"Kendall Knight, you are under arrest for the assault of one Phil Hawk."

Yeah, Hawk's name is Phil cause that's what it is in real life and I didn't feel like getting creative enough to come up with a name for a psychopath like Hawk. What exactly is a psychopath name?

Yup, Kendall's in trouble! :O

Haha, I used 'whom'. I'm officially 70 years old.

So I know I haven't said much about the current state of the band, other than the fact that it, obviously, is taking a loooong break. I promise in the next chapter more will be revealed about the potential fate of BTR.