A/N: So, on April 5th I reached 100 reviews on this story.

Wow. Just, wow. That's never happened to me before, and I cannot TELL you guys how honored I am. Thank you SO MUCH. You are all important to me, and your opinions, good or bad, rock my world. This chapter is for all of you. Thank you for getting me this far! Thank you so much!

Enjoy!

Carlos didn't know why he hurt so much.

He stretched and then gasped as his shoulder protested harshly. His eyes flittered open. White greeted him from all sides—bright light, white walls, white sheets. With the white came the panic. Where was he? What happened? Why did everything hurt?

His eyes fell on Logan.

He already looked dead.

Time seemed to stop, completely and utterly, as he took in his best friend's state. The scariest thing was probably the tube down his throat, whirring and whistling like a ghost. Carlos' eyes traveled to Logan's ashen gray face, slack and lifeless. It was kind of ironic, having their future doctor lying in a hospital bed, unable to support his own body, forced to rely on a machine to help him breathe. Ironic, and terrifying.

Everything flooded back. The earthquake. The screaming, crying, falling. Blackness. Terror. Logan, James Kendall, Katie. The hospital. That's where he was—he was at the hospital. Morning light flitted through the blinds on the window. He'd been here all night, after coming in to see Logan. The exhaustion was too much, and seeing his best friend like this had pushed him over the edge. Sleep was the only option, the only thing that could make it better.

Carlos sat up in the chair he'd fallen asleep in, next to Logan's bed. Ms. Knight was already up—or maybe she'd never slept, he couldn't tell. She had Katie's head in her lap, stroking her hair. As she noticed Carlos' gaze, she gave him a faint smile.

Carlos returned it, but it was weaker than hers. He looked back at Logan.

What had the doctor said? He'd been hit in the head too many times. Carlos' heart sunk in his chest as he remembered the railing he'd loosened. It had hit Logan in the head the first time and who knew how many times after that?

"This is all my fault," he whispered. It sounded even more impossible as he heard the words out loud. Impossible, but true.

Ms. Knight rose carefully from the seat and crossed to him so fast he almost didn't register how close she was until she placed both hands to either of his cheeks and forced him to tear his eyes from Logan.

"This is in no way, shape, or form your fault," she said firmly.

Carlos averted his gaze, but his clenched fists tightened just enough to let her know that he didn't believe her in the slightest.

Ms. Knight pursed her lips, unsure of what to say to make him feel better.

"I left him in the elevator," Carlos went on before she could start. "And again when I went to go get help. Left him twice. And now he can't wake up." A tear dripped down his ruddy cheeks, and he scrubbed his good arm against his eyes.

"Oh, honey," Ms. Knight sighed. She grabbed Carlos' shoulders gently and pulled him into a hug. And as Katie woke, stood, and wrapped her arms around her mother and Carlos, she hugged her too.

They could've stayed like that for hours, but a knock on the door interrupted them. Carlos pulled away first, spotting the nurse on the other side. She was petite and fragile-looking, with reddish brown hair and bright blue eyes. Sheepishly she opened the door.

"Sorry to intrude," she said genuinely. "I have some tests to run on…" She looked down at her clipboard. "… Logan Mitchell."

Ms. Knight put a hand on Carlos' shoulder. "Come on," she said. "Let's go see James and Camille."

"Are you Ms. Knight?" the nurse asked.

"I am," she replied, giving her an odd look at being recognized.

"Is your son Kendall Knight?" At Ms. Knight's nod, she continued, "He's just been taken into surgery."

"Is he okay?" Katie demanded before Ms. Knight could.

The nurse pursed her lips. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "I only caught a glimpse as he was coming in."

Carlos bit his lip. "Will you… will you let us know when he gets better?"

Giving him a soft smile, she said, "All things going right, he should be out of surgery in a few hours."

"Thank you, nurse," Ms. Knight said as she started to steer Carlos and Katie out of the room.

"Call me Debbie," the nurse said. "We'll take good care of them both, don't worry."

…

James heard the door open, but he kept his eyes closed, too tired to turn.

"James?" Carlos' whispered voice floated to James' ears.

He opened his mouth to say something, but a round of coughing wracked him from head to toe. His head spun, and his ribs felt like they were snapping, healing, and then snapping again each time he coughed.

Opening his eyes tiredly, he looked up at Carlos, who stared down at him with a horrified look on his face.

"S'okay, Carlos," he murmured. "I've had pneumonia before, remember? I'll get better."

"You didn't sound this bad," Carlos responded, worry in his eyes.

James took in his friend's state. He'd been given a short sleeve shirt to cover his bare chest and some gray sweatpants, and his arm was in a sling. Other than cuts and bruises, he looked remarkably well, but his eyes—they glistened with terror and concern and pain.

"You okay?" James asked tiredly.

Carlos shook his head. Figures. He was never one to lie. "You?"

"Been better."

"I'm fine too, thanks for asking," Camille said good-naturedly from her spot in the bed across from James'.

Carlos looked at her but didn't smile at her joke. James frowned. Something was seriously wrong. "What's up, dude?"

The Latino took a deep breath and said the words to Camille. "Logan is in a coma."

Camille didn't respond again aside from the occasional coughing fit. James stared at Carlos, feeling like whatever breath he could draw had been punched out of his lungs.

"Isn't that…" James' mind raced to find the words. "Like, when you fall asleep, and—"

"You never wake up," Camille snapped.

"That's not true," Carlos protested. "The doctor said it could be hours."

"Or years."

Everyone turned their heads to look at Katie, who was standing in the doorway with Ms. Knight. Her mother frowned disapprovingly at her, but Katie crossed her arms over her chest.

"They don't know when he's going to wake up," Katie continued. Her voice broke at the end of the sentence.

"He'll be fine," Carlos said, pulling her into a one-armed hug. "We're all going to be fine."

"How can you know that?" James demanded. He coughed, felt his ribs stab into his lungs again, and tried to breathe so he could talk more. "This isn't like the movies, Carlos. What about Kendall?" His eyes widened as he realized that Katie was here, but Kendall wasn't. "Guys. What happened to Kendall?"

Carlos looked at Katie, Katie at Carlos.

Ms. Knight spoke up, saving them both from answering. "We don't know," she said. "He was… trapped under a piece of ceiling. He's in surgery right now."

James wished everything would just go back to normal. He closed his eyes and pretended that no one was talking, that he was back in his own bed the night before the earthquake and not in the hospital with his friends.

And then the urge to cough overcame him, and before he knew it he was coughing so hard the nurse came in and helped him roll onto his side. Every time he tried to breath his chest crackled like he had something loose in his throat. He'd had pneumonia before—it was almost a given being a hockey player in Minnesota—but he couldn't even remember how it felt then compared to now.

"We should get some food," Ms. Knight said, putting an arm on Carlos' shoulder as the nurse helped roll James back onto his back.

James felt a pang of jealousy. There was no way he was getting to eat anything other than pudding and Jell-O and other things that slide down the throat easily. He would kill for a pizza.

Carlos looked ready to protest, but his stomach growled in protest and he looked down sheepishly. "I haven't had anything since breakfast yesterday," he admitted.

"There's something wrong with that sentence," Camille said, and for a brief moment James could smile at the joke. Carlos looked at her, and she gave him a nod. "Go on. It's not like we're going anywhere."

When Carlos turned to James, James gave him a smile and a nod. He still didn't look convinced, but he allowed Ms. Knight to lead him and Katie out of their hospital room.

Camille sighed as soon as they were out of hearing range. "I swear, that boy would cuff himself to this bed if he had to."

James would've answered. But he was too busy coughing his lungs out.

…

Unfortunately for Carlos, he was recognized the minute he set foot in the cafeteria. It was jam packed with people—and maybe it had been the more well-known celebrities that had drawn the crowd of paparazzi. But as soon as someone put a face to a name, they were all over him.

"Carlos! Carlos!"

"Mr. Garcia, what are the conditions of the members of Big Time Rush?"

"What happened to Kendall, James, and Logan?"

"Is the Palm Woods destroyed? What of the other up and coming stars still trapped in the building?"

Carlos was completely unprepared. Blinding lights flashed in front of his eyes and the questions all jumbled together. He stumbled back from the brunt of it all, trying to reach for Ms. Knight and Katie. Much to his shock, they'd been separated. He tried to look for them, but all around him people were shouting and yelling, flashing lights and cameras and microphones into his face.

"LEAVE MY DOG ALONE."

The booming voice cut through the jumble of words like a laser, shocking everyone into silence. Carlos, though he never thought it possible, felt a swell of relief with the familiar voice as the crowd parted to reveal Gustavo and Kelly, walking briskly towards him.

Kelly took Carlos' good arm gently as Gustavo turned to face the press. "Carlos has nothing to say to you," he barked, only lowering his voice a fraction. The reporters started to push closer, opening their mouths to ask something else, and Gustavo took off his ever-present sunglasses and glared daggers at them. "And neither do we."

Kelly spoke up then. "The only reason you're in here is to get an update on the conditions of well-known people, not mob a teenager who is obviously in a state of shock. You need permission to be here, and I can have you escorted off the premises if you bother us again."

None of them spoke up again. Carlos didn't know if it was because of how scary Gustavo was, or because Kelly really did have the ability to have them thrown out, or what. But he was grateful when they started to back away enough for Katie and Ms. Knight to run to him and envelope him in a hug.

"Are you okay?" Ms. Knight asked as Kelly helped him sit at a table. "I'm so sorry, I should've checked—"

"It's okay," Carlos said quietly. He gazed up at Gustavo. "Thanks."

Gustavo looked embarrassed. "Vultures," he said gruffly.

"They're not usually allowed in hospitals, but enough patients gave their consent to be interviewed that they were let in," Kelly explained, sitting down across from Carlos. "They were probably waiting here in the cafeteria for someone they knew."

"I didn't know I was so easy to be recognized," Carlos muttered.

She smiled at him. "Face it. You guys are becoming more and more popular."

Carlos didn't answer. Ms. Knight steered Katie by the shoulder over to the food. "I'll get you something, Carlos," she called over her shoulder.

He gave a nod of acknowledgment, even though she was already gone, and faced Gustavo and Kelly. "Where were you during… you know."

"In my limo," Gustavo grunted. "Which is completely destroyed, by the way. The good news: Rocque Records is in pretty good shape for an earthquake."

"Bad news?"

Kelly put her hand on Carlos', and he didn't move away. She gave him a kind look. "You guys were in the earthquake."

Carlos looked at her hand on his and searched for something to say.

Kelly saved him. "How are you?"

"Fine," he said, looking at his sling. "It's, um, dislocated. I was in the elevator with… with Logan."

She looked at him in concern, waiting for him to continue. And once he started to talk, he couldn't stop. "Logan's… he hit his head so many times, I guess, there was too much damage, and… he's in a coma." He stumbled over the words. "James was in the pool with Camille, and they both got pneumonia. And Kendall… Kendall was, I don't know, trapped… they called him a 'crush victim', or something…"

Kelly drew in a silent breath, but Carlos heard it. She knew what a crush victim was. Good, because he didn't, and he had a feeling it was bad—really bad.

He took a breath and refused to cry in front of them. "Kendall is still in surgery. I got lucky. The doctor said I could go home, but…"

Kelly nodded. She understood. Maybe on a normal day, if he absolutely had to, he would return home. But the only home available was hundreds of miles away. The doctor meant the home he had here in California. But ever since yesterday afternoon, in less than two minutes, that home had been reduced to rubble with him and his friends trapped in it.

There was no home anymore.