Shut Your Eyes - Chapter Nine
Did I just make the second update to this fic today? You bet I did.
Title: Shut Your Eyes
Authors: goten0040 and garnetice
Chapter: 9
Rating: M
Ship(s): Kendall/James, Carlos/Stephanie, maybe more.
Summary: Future!Fic. Kendall returns to L.A. six years after Big Time Rush disbanded. James has been missing for years. Imagine how things change when James reappears in his life. And he needs help.
Chapter Nine
I don’t know why I incessantly cleaned when we returned to my apartment. There wasn’t anything too clean, but some weird part of me wanted to make everything perfect for James, almost as if I could remind him that things could be cleaned up and okay sometimes. His eyes followed me as I moved things and cleaned things and all together didn’t really get much accomplished, but continued babbling on about how he could shower and get cleaned up and borrow some of my clothes and all that shit.
When he finally slinked off to the shower, I felt a mixture of relief and utter dread. I didn’t want him behind a closed door. That door was a barrier that allowed him to go right back to what had destroyed him, and my mind wouldn’t stop telling me that he was probably shooting up, even though the water was running. Shooting up, fuck that was an awful verb. It infected my mind with poison like it infected his veins with the same.
I ended up lying on the mattress, staring at the ceiling and wishing for a TV to break the silence.
The shower stopped.
After what seemed to be an eternity, James came shuffling out in a pair of my jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. Both of them swallowed him, but I’d lucked out in that we were about the same height. Still, he was holding my jeans up by the waistband.
“Your clothes don’t fit me,” he said, and it felt like he was offended by the very idea that they didn’t.
“Oh… I’m sorry. I’ve… got some sweatpants you can borrow instead.”
He nodded and I got up and dug in my bag for them, tossing them over my shoulder. I heard them hit the floor. James’ hockey reflexes weren’t what they used to be, that was for sure. At least he was clean. His wet hair still stuck to his neck in places, but even in the dark tinge that came from soaking it with water, I could tell it would be a different color completely.
“Cool. Thanks.” He didn’t sound thankful at all.
“You’re welcome.”
A long pause.
“I didn’t shoot up if that’s what you’re wondering. Christ.” He popped a cigarette and I noticed his hands were shaking. “Haven’t had any all fucking day. Hope you’re happy.”
I bit my lip. “Why not?”
“Good fucking question. Maybe I figured I should be lucid when I talk to you so you don’t have me doing anything stupid.”
Yeah, like he wasn’t doing anything stupid. But that wasn’t the argument I needed to make at the moment. Once he had the cigarette burning between his lips, he dropped the jeans to the floor and began to pull on the sweatpants. I saw track marks on his legs. It made me nauseous.
“Well, excuse me for that then.” I couldn’t fight the sarcasm in my voice. I think I had a right to be a little pissed off.
“Whatever, dude,” James replied, rubbing at his hair with the towel and taking a long drag on the cigarette. “So I’m assuming Logan and Carlos will be showing up over here soon and weeping over letters about how they want me to be better?”
I glared. “No. They don’t even know you’re here. I don’t know if Carlos even knows you’re… um…”
“Fucked up? Yeah, I’m sure he knows. Everyone fucking knows, obviously.”
“We’re all fucked up. That doesn’t mean we go around sticking needles in our arms.”
“Yeah, some of us prefer to run away and pretend their life never even happened.”
That stung. I clenched my fists. “I didn’t run away. God forbid I do something for me and not for anyone else all the time.”
“Hey, you’re the one that decided to be the go-to guy, asshole. You don’t just walk away from that because one day you decide to be selfish.”
“Selfish?! I didn’t have anything going for me here! We all knew that once Big Time Rush was over that I would be going to play hockey-“
“Yes, cause you obviously have so much going for you right now.”
“Yeah, you too.” A pause. I felt my throat running dry. “You know, James… if I had stayed here… I might have ended up just like you. So sorry if I give a crap about living.”
“So if you like playing hockey so much, why aren’t you still up north playing it?”
“I-“ I frowned. “I got hurt, okay? Nearly got my head bashed in.”
“So you were playing a game in which you could have died. Yeah, big difference.”
“I don’t choose to get my head bashed in. Don’t even try to compare what you’re doing to me.”
James seethed. “You know what? Fuck this. I’m out.”
James headed for the door.
“Why did you even bother to come here then? If I get in the way of how you’re living, your fucking drugs, and everything’s going just the way you like it, why did you even bother coming here?!”
“I needed money.”
“And I gave it to you. But you still came back. Why?!” I grabbed him by the sweatshirt and I found myself screaming it in his face over and over again. “WHY?!”
James’ fist cracked across my jaw then and I stumbled backwards a couple of steps. He’d always had a mean right. Then, suddenly, rage exploded behind my eyes and I was attacking him, knocking him to the floor, fists flying. I guess I just wanted to blame him for everything bad that had happened to me, because it seemed like everything had gone to shit in my life about the same time it had in his. And I was just so fucking mad, because he could have been something. And he wasn’t. And it just… it infuriated me. I just kept punching him, wailing on him, and I couldn’t even feel whatever hits he delivered to me because I was just so mad with rage. James kneed me in the stomach, flipping me over and slamming his fists into my chest. And he was screaming. Just… screaming like all the pain in his heart would dissipate with every punch. And then his hands were on my throat and we weren’t kids anymore. Everything turned very real. James had been living on the street, fighting for his life on a daily basis.
And his hands were on my fucking throat, crushing my windpipe. I gasped for air, trying to roll the skinny boy off of me, but his adrenaline was rushing and keeping him strong. My lungs started to burn for oxygen and I flailed under him.
“Ja… Ja…” I sputtered, feeling my eyes trying to roll back in my head. “Ja-“
Then his hands were gone and I was left coughing and holding my throat. Sparks were still bursting before my eyes.
I finally managed to crane my head to see James, the pain starting to seep in where I’d been hit when my adrenaline began to quell. He was sitting against the wall, all bruised up and bloody and pale, staring at me with wide, frightened eyes. I’d done a bit of a number on his face. His nose was bleeding and his eye was bruised and swelling. And judging by the way my face and neck and body hurt, I was probably in the same shape, or at least close to it.
“Fuck…” I whispered, and my throat burned. My voice sounded muffled to my ears.
I managed to sit up, and my head spun momentarily.
“James?” I questioned.
He bowed his head, strands of wet hair flopping into his face.
“Son of a bitch,” he whimpered. “Why did you… why did you have to push it? Why?”
I touched my neck again. It was insanely tender. I wasn’t sure if I should go see a doctor or not.
“You… you tried to…”
“Shit,” James cried out, burying his head in his knees. “Shit, shit, shit!”
I don’t know if he felt guilty or if thought I was gonna call the cops or what, but I crawled over to him, my arms aching under me, grabbing him by the arm with half-numb fingers. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? He’d basically just tried to kill me, hadn’t he? I could still feel the sting of anger in my gut.
“Would it have been worth it?”I asked. “Would it have been worth this shit?!” I yanked the sleeve up and smacked the track marks on his arm.
“Stop it. Just stop it.” He was shaking so hard that he almost seemed to be vibrating against the wall. I saw that his cigarette had burned a hole in his sleeve some time during the fight and had ended up butted out on the floor.
We sat against the wall for a long time, bleeding and breathing and wondering how the fuck we got to that point. Or at least I was. I couldn’t speak for him.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
A glimmer of hope struck me. I thought he meant the drugs, the heroin, the fucking mind control that had him even thinking strangling me would be a good idea.
But when he got up and headed for the door, I realized that I wasn’t even close to being right.
The door slammed behind him.
…
“What the fuck happened to you?!”
Logan was pretty pissed off to see me in such bad shape, especially when I shrugged like it was nothing.
“I’m not going to touch you until you tell me what happened.”
There was a joke in there somewhere, but he was fuming, so I decided against it. “I got mugged.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah. Bunch of guys. Beat the crap out of me.”
“Obviously,” Stephanie said, groaning as she picked up a piece of the crib she and Carlos were currently trying to assemble. I had kind of just walked in on their fun with blood all over my face. “And here I thought you were a big tough man.”
“These were big tougher men.” No they weren’t. It was James, and James didn’t strike me as all that tough, but I’d had a habit of underestimating him in the past.
“God, look at you. And your neck! Did one of them try to choke you? You could have died! Don’t you carry any mace or something?”
“Mace is for girls,” I responded, then after a look from Stephanie, “Girls who… can’t punch my lights out.”
“I like him Carlos. Let’s keep him.” She was definitely Carlos’ wife.
Logan began disinfecting my wounds and I flinched. “Did you seriously catch a cab looking like this? I would have been afraid you were a serial killer or something.”
“It’s my blood. Serial killers don’t hurt themselves. At least I don’t think so.”
“Did you pay any attention in that criminal justice seminar we had to go to in high school?”
“It was a requirement, right?”
“Right.”
“Yeah, so no.”
“Kendall…” Logan scolded.
“Hope you gave ‘em a few licks of your own at least,” Carlos said with a grin. It amazed me how Carlos bounced back from binge drinking. “Wow, why is this thing so hard to put together?”
“I did.”
“Well, Logan, honey, patch him up a little. I’ll make him something to eat. Are you hungry?” Stephanie cooed, going into her preemptive “mommy-mode.”
“Not really. All I’ve been tasting is blood.”
“How about a little hot chocolate then? Warm you up a little. You’re shaking.”
I was? I was. I looked down at my hands and damn, they were definitely shaking. I supposed the adrenaline, even after that amount of time still hadn’t gone away completely. I nodded so no one would ask any questions.
“Wow, they really did a number on you.” Logan said, arching his eyebrows worriedly to where they creased his forehead. I found myself wondering if those wrinkles had always been there. “Poor thing.”
Logan worked at mending my wounds and it made me feel a little warmer, a little less hollow. He’d always been my best friend, and suddenly I was struck with a complete sense of longing and loneliness and wanting him to never leave and always be my right hand man. He was just such a good person. To have someone that amazing look up to me… it was a gift.
“There we go,” he said. “Good as new. Well, almost.”
I smiled at him and fought the urge to throw my arms around him and spill my guts. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, man. You know I love you.”
He did. It was a love that was genuine, not sexual. Though, given, I’d thought about it when I first started to figure out that I preferred stubble and a strong jaw over the plump pretty lips of a woman. But there was something about Logan that made him off limits. I mean, not just the fact that he was straight, of course, but that he was just too close, too much of a comfort, to risk fucking it up. And when I looked at him through the eyes of trust, admiration, caring, brotherhood, he looked different. Better, really. But different. It was kind of like that with Carlos, but not really. I guess I never really could take him seriously, and he never really wanted to be, so we just remained good friends. I wondered how they saw me. How James saw me.
I hated it. I hated that James couldn’t be a part of it.
Stephanie came waddling in with a mug of hot chocolate for me and I smiled at her, even though it hurt my face all over. It was true what everyone said about pregnant women. They really did glow. I took the mug and drank heartily, even though it scalded my tongue pretty heftily. I considered it my punishment for lying to them when they were all trying to help. I didn’t want to lie, but I had to lie about getting mugged to cover up the fact that I had sought out James alone. Carlos probably wouldn’t have spoken to me ever again if he’d known that.
“How’s your face?” she asked.
“Ugly, as always,” Carlos laughed, then went back to cursing at the crib because it just wouldn’t go together.
“I think you’ll be okay,” Logan said. “I couldn’t find anything broken, but we may want to go to the ER just to get your neck checked out. It’s pretty bad.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve got Dr.Logan to take care of me.”
Logan made a face. “You know, I didn’t come to L.A. to just keep you out of trouble.”
“Yes, you did,” Carlos and I answered simultaneously.
“You love it and you know it,” I finished.
“Carlos, why don’t you put that down for a minute and help me in the kitchen?” Stephanie said, then turned to me and Logan. “Need my big strong man to get pots and pans down for me.” And she laughed, because we all knew she was probably ten times tougher than Carlos, but liked to give him the ego boost. And the baby belly had the tendency to get in the way, I supposed.
Carlos finally came strolling out of the room with the mobile somehow tangled around his neck and hanging off his shoulder and two splintered pieces of crib in his hands.
“Baby? I think I broke it.”
It was then I knew that Stephanie was perfect for Carlos. Because she laughed. She held that swollen gut of hers and just laughed and laughed. And Logan and I did too, until I started wailing about how my face hurt and Carlos decided to laugh at me.
Maybe I was looking for something in James that wasn’t there anymore. Because it seemed like before I’d come across him again, life was trying to be a little better. But it had taken a turn for the worst. Still, I didn’t know if it would have been worse or better if I hadn’t seen him again, because knowing he was alive was a relief, and seeing him was almost a dream. Just because he wasn’t who he used to be didn’t mean I didn’t care for him. So it was hard for me to deny myself of wanting to help him. The child inside of me wanted to believe that I could fix him and everything would be okay, that he really did want to see me.
Logan put his arm around my shoulder in good humor. I stared at my almost empty hot chocolate mug, leaned my head against his. His laughter started to die a little bit. I just needed the moment.
…
I ended up falling asleep on Carlos’ couch, and when I stirred, I could hear people talking in hushed voices and smell dinner cooking.
“You know how Carlos is, Logan. He’ll be fine. Just give him a little time.”
“Stephanie, I’m not really worried about how he’s taking it. I’m more worried about Kendall. He’s… he’s been weird since he got back. Something’s off.”
“You don’t think he’s on drugs too do you?”
“No. It’s not the same. It’s just… I’m worried about him. Did you see that scar in his hairline? And how clingy he was with me? He hasn’t acted this strange since… well… his dad walked out. Think I should talk to his mom?”
“Logan, you need to trust what he’s capable of. Kendall’s a big boy. He can handle himself-“
I made a bit more noise than I usually would to wake up to signal the end of their conversation. My body ached with every movement, and I could still feel James’ hands on my throat.
“Oh, you up?” Logan asked with that nervous chuckle that meant he was hiding something. “Hungry? Steph’s making dinner.”
“Mm,” I responded half-heartedly. “Where’s Carlos?”
I was feeling just a touch betrayed that Logan would talk about me behind my back, but I knew it was because he was worried.
“He made a run to the store. We’re out of milk and he wants to make chocolate malts for everyone. Says it cures all that ails. I certainly hope he’ll choose medicine over chocolate for our baby.”
“I’m sure he will,” I said, and I meant it. “He’ll be a great dad.”
“God, look at you. Your face is all swollen,” Stephanie said. “Want a steak for that eye?”
“It’s fine. A little late to try and get rid of this swelling.” My voice still sounded weird in my throat. James had done a hell of a number on me.
“Well, don’t go walking around L.A. alone, okay? Don’t want you getting anymore hurt,” Stephanie said.
“I can handle a little pain, Stephanie. But thanks.”
“Well, you’ve got a pretty face. Don’t go messing that up, okay? We need to get you a lady somehow, don’t we?”
I smiled. “I don’t really know if any ladies would be interested in me. I think we’ve been through this.”
“Alright, alright. Go sit.”
“He’s not… still mad at me, is he?”
“Who?”
“Carlos. Because of James.” I don’t know why I asked. Maybe my guilt was too strong.
“Kendall, honestly, I don’t think he remembers being mad at you. He was pretty drunk.”
“But he remembers James.”
“Yeah.”
“So he’s probably mad.”
“Kendall,” Logan said. “It’s not worth it. James… he’s… well, Kendall, he’s gone. I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again anytime soon.”
I wanted to punch Logan. But I’d gotten my fair share of punching for the day. He’d given up on James awfully fast.
Then again, maybe I should have too.
But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Title: Shut Your Eyes
Authors: goten0040 and garnetice
Chapter: 9
Rating: M
Ship(s): Kendall/James, Carlos/Stephanie, maybe more.
Summary: Future!Fic. Kendall returns to L.A. six years after Big Time Rush disbanded. James has been missing for years. Imagine how things change when James reappears in his life. And he needs help.
Chapter Nine
I don’t know why I incessantly cleaned when we returned to my apartment. There wasn’t anything too clean, but some weird part of me wanted to make everything perfect for James, almost as if I could remind him that things could be cleaned up and okay sometimes. His eyes followed me as I moved things and cleaned things and all together didn’t really get much accomplished, but continued babbling on about how he could shower and get cleaned up and borrow some of my clothes and all that shit.
When he finally slinked off to the shower, I felt a mixture of relief and utter dread. I didn’t want him behind a closed door. That door was a barrier that allowed him to go right back to what had destroyed him, and my mind wouldn’t stop telling me that he was probably shooting up, even though the water was running. Shooting up, fuck that was an awful verb. It infected my mind with poison like it infected his veins with the same.
I ended up lying on the mattress, staring at the ceiling and wishing for a TV to break the silence.
The shower stopped.
After what seemed to be an eternity, James came shuffling out in a pair of my jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. Both of them swallowed him, but I’d lucked out in that we were about the same height. Still, he was holding my jeans up by the waistband.
“Your clothes don’t fit me,” he said, and it felt like he was offended by the very idea that they didn’t.
“Oh… I’m sorry. I’ve… got some sweatpants you can borrow instead.”
He nodded and I got up and dug in my bag for them, tossing them over my shoulder. I heard them hit the floor. James’ hockey reflexes weren’t what they used to be, that was for sure. At least he was clean. His wet hair still stuck to his neck in places, but even in the dark tinge that came from soaking it with water, I could tell it would be a different color completely.
“Cool. Thanks.” He didn’t sound thankful at all.
“You’re welcome.”
A long pause.
“I didn’t shoot up if that’s what you’re wondering. Christ.” He popped a cigarette and I noticed his hands were shaking. “Haven’t had any all fucking day. Hope you’re happy.”
I bit my lip. “Why not?”
“Good fucking question. Maybe I figured I should be lucid when I talk to you so you don’t have me doing anything stupid.”
Yeah, like he wasn’t doing anything stupid. But that wasn’t the argument I needed to make at the moment. Once he had the cigarette burning between his lips, he dropped the jeans to the floor and began to pull on the sweatpants. I saw track marks on his legs. It made me nauseous.
“Well, excuse me for that then.” I couldn’t fight the sarcasm in my voice. I think I had a right to be a little pissed off.
“Whatever, dude,” James replied, rubbing at his hair with the towel and taking a long drag on the cigarette. “So I’m assuming Logan and Carlos will be showing up over here soon and weeping over letters about how they want me to be better?”
I glared. “No. They don’t even know you’re here. I don’t know if Carlos even knows you’re… um…”
“Fucked up? Yeah, I’m sure he knows. Everyone fucking knows, obviously.”
“We’re all fucked up. That doesn’t mean we go around sticking needles in our arms.”
“Yeah, some of us prefer to run away and pretend their life never even happened.”
That stung. I clenched my fists. “I didn’t run away. God forbid I do something for me and not for anyone else all the time.”
“Hey, you’re the one that decided to be the go-to guy, asshole. You don’t just walk away from that because one day you decide to be selfish.”
“Selfish?! I didn’t have anything going for me here! We all knew that once Big Time Rush was over that I would be going to play hockey-“
“Yes, cause you obviously have so much going for you right now.”
“Yeah, you too.” A pause. I felt my throat running dry. “You know, James… if I had stayed here… I might have ended up just like you. So sorry if I give a crap about living.”
“So if you like playing hockey so much, why aren’t you still up north playing it?”
“I-“ I frowned. “I got hurt, okay? Nearly got my head bashed in.”
“So you were playing a game in which you could have died. Yeah, big difference.”
“I don’t choose to get my head bashed in. Don’t even try to compare what you’re doing to me.”
James seethed. “You know what? Fuck this. I’m out.”
James headed for the door.
“Why did you even bother to come here then? If I get in the way of how you’re living, your fucking drugs, and everything’s going just the way you like it, why did you even bother coming here?!”
“I needed money.”
“And I gave it to you. But you still came back. Why?!” I grabbed him by the sweatshirt and I found myself screaming it in his face over and over again. “WHY?!”
James’ fist cracked across my jaw then and I stumbled backwards a couple of steps. He’d always had a mean right. Then, suddenly, rage exploded behind my eyes and I was attacking him, knocking him to the floor, fists flying. I guess I just wanted to blame him for everything bad that had happened to me, because it seemed like everything had gone to shit in my life about the same time it had in his. And I was just so fucking mad, because he could have been something. And he wasn’t. And it just… it infuriated me. I just kept punching him, wailing on him, and I couldn’t even feel whatever hits he delivered to me because I was just so mad with rage. James kneed me in the stomach, flipping me over and slamming his fists into my chest. And he was screaming. Just… screaming like all the pain in his heart would dissipate with every punch. And then his hands were on my throat and we weren’t kids anymore. Everything turned very real. James had been living on the street, fighting for his life on a daily basis.
And his hands were on my fucking throat, crushing my windpipe. I gasped for air, trying to roll the skinny boy off of me, but his adrenaline was rushing and keeping him strong. My lungs started to burn for oxygen and I flailed under him.
“Ja… Ja…” I sputtered, feeling my eyes trying to roll back in my head. “Ja-“
Then his hands were gone and I was left coughing and holding my throat. Sparks were still bursting before my eyes.
I finally managed to crane my head to see James, the pain starting to seep in where I’d been hit when my adrenaline began to quell. He was sitting against the wall, all bruised up and bloody and pale, staring at me with wide, frightened eyes. I’d done a bit of a number on his face. His nose was bleeding and his eye was bruised and swelling. And judging by the way my face and neck and body hurt, I was probably in the same shape, or at least close to it.
“Fuck…” I whispered, and my throat burned. My voice sounded muffled to my ears.
I managed to sit up, and my head spun momentarily.
“James?” I questioned.
He bowed his head, strands of wet hair flopping into his face.
“Son of a bitch,” he whimpered. “Why did you… why did you have to push it? Why?”
I touched my neck again. It was insanely tender. I wasn’t sure if I should go see a doctor or not.
“You… you tried to…”
“Shit,” James cried out, burying his head in his knees. “Shit, shit, shit!”
I don’t know if he felt guilty or if thought I was gonna call the cops or what, but I crawled over to him, my arms aching under me, grabbing him by the arm with half-numb fingers. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? He’d basically just tried to kill me, hadn’t he? I could still feel the sting of anger in my gut.
“Would it have been worth it?”I asked. “Would it have been worth this shit?!” I yanked the sleeve up and smacked the track marks on his arm.
“Stop it. Just stop it.” He was shaking so hard that he almost seemed to be vibrating against the wall. I saw that his cigarette had burned a hole in his sleeve some time during the fight and had ended up butted out on the floor.
We sat against the wall for a long time, bleeding and breathing and wondering how the fuck we got to that point. Or at least I was. I couldn’t speak for him.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
A glimmer of hope struck me. I thought he meant the drugs, the heroin, the fucking mind control that had him even thinking strangling me would be a good idea.
But when he got up and headed for the door, I realized that I wasn’t even close to being right.
The door slammed behind him.
…
“What the fuck happened to you?!”
Logan was pretty pissed off to see me in such bad shape, especially when I shrugged like it was nothing.
“I’m not going to touch you until you tell me what happened.”
There was a joke in there somewhere, but he was fuming, so I decided against it. “I got mugged.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah. Bunch of guys. Beat the crap out of me.”
“Obviously,” Stephanie said, groaning as she picked up a piece of the crib she and Carlos were currently trying to assemble. I had kind of just walked in on their fun with blood all over my face. “And here I thought you were a big tough man.”
“These were big tougher men.” No they weren’t. It was James, and James didn’t strike me as all that tough, but I’d had a habit of underestimating him in the past.
“God, look at you. And your neck! Did one of them try to choke you? You could have died! Don’t you carry any mace or something?”
“Mace is for girls,” I responded, then after a look from Stephanie, “Girls who… can’t punch my lights out.”
“I like him Carlos. Let’s keep him.” She was definitely Carlos’ wife.
Logan began disinfecting my wounds and I flinched. “Did you seriously catch a cab looking like this? I would have been afraid you were a serial killer or something.”
“It’s my blood. Serial killers don’t hurt themselves. At least I don’t think so.”
“Did you pay any attention in that criminal justice seminar we had to go to in high school?”
“It was a requirement, right?”
“Right.”
“Yeah, so no.”
“Kendall…” Logan scolded.
“Hope you gave ‘em a few licks of your own at least,” Carlos said with a grin. It amazed me how Carlos bounced back from binge drinking. “Wow, why is this thing so hard to put together?”
“I did.”
“Well, Logan, honey, patch him up a little. I’ll make him something to eat. Are you hungry?” Stephanie cooed, going into her preemptive “mommy-mode.”
“Not really. All I’ve been tasting is blood.”
“How about a little hot chocolate then? Warm you up a little. You’re shaking.”
I was? I was. I looked down at my hands and damn, they were definitely shaking. I supposed the adrenaline, even after that amount of time still hadn’t gone away completely. I nodded so no one would ask any questions.
“Wow, they really did a number on you.” Logan said, arching his eyebrows worriedly to where they creased his forehead. I found myself wondering if those wrinkles had always been there. “Poor thing.”
Logan worked at mending my wounds and it made me feel a little warmer, a little less hollow. He’d always been my best friend, and suddenly I was struck with a complete sense of longing and loneliness and wanting him to never leave and always be my right hand man. He was just such a good person. To have someone that amazing look up to me… it was a gift.
“There we go,” he said. “Good as new. Well, almost.”
I smiled at him and fought the urge to throw my arms around him and spill my guts. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, man. You know I love you.”
He did. It was a love that was genuine, not sexual. Though, given, I’d thought about it when I first started to figure out that I preferred stubble and a strong jaw over the plump pretty lips of a woman. But there was something about Logan that made him off limits. I mean, not just the fact that he was straight, of course, but that he was just too close, too much of a comfort, to risk fucking it up. And when I looked at him through the eyes of trust, admiration, caring, brotherhood, he looked different. Better, really. But different. It was kind of like that with Carlos, but not really. I guess I never really could take him seriously, and he never really wanted to be, so we just remained good friends. I wondered how they saw me. How James saw me.
I hated it. I hated that James couldn’t be a part of it.
Stephanie came waddling in with a mug of hot chocolate for me and I smiled at her, even though it hurt my face all over. It was true what everyone said about pregnant women. They really did glow. I took the mug and drank heartily, even though it scalded my tongue pretty heftily. I considered it my punishment for lying to them when they were all trying to help. I didn’t want to lie, but I had to lie about getting mugged to cover up the fact that I had sought out James alone. Carlos probably wouldn’t have spoken to me ever again if he’d known that.
“How’s your face?” she asked.
“Ugly, as always,” Carlos laughed, then went back to cursing at the crib because it just wouldn’t go together.
“I think you’ll be okay,” Logan said. “I couldn’t find anything broken, but we may want to go to the ER just to get your neck checked out. It’s pretty bad.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve got Dr.Logan to take care of me.”
Logan made a face. “You know, I didn’t come to L.A. to just keep you out of trouble.”
“Yes, you did,” Carlos and I answered simultaneously.
“You love it and you know it,” I finished.
“Carlos, why don’t you put that down for a minute and help me in the kitchen?” Stephanie said, then turned to me and Logan. “Need my big strong man to get pots and pans down for me.” And she laughed, because we all knew she was probably ten times tougher than Carlos, but liked to give him the ego boost. And the baby belly had the tendency to get in the way, I supposed.
Carlos finally came strolling out of the room with the mobile somehow tangled around his neck and hanging off his shoulder and two splintered pieces of crib in his hands.
“Baby? I think I broke it.”
It was then I knew that Stephanie was perfect for Carlos. Because she laughed. She held that swollen gut of hers and just laughed and laughed. And Logan and I did too, until I started wailing about how my face hurt and Carlos decided to laugh at me.
Maybe I was looking for something in James that wasn’t there anymore. Because it seemed like before I’d come across him again, life was trying to be a little better. But it had taken a turn for the worst. Still, I didn’t know if it would have been worse or better if I hadn’t seen him again, because knowing he was alive was a relief, and seeing him was almost a dream. Just because he wasn’t who he used to be didn’t mean I didn’t care for him. So it was hard for me to deny myself of wanting to help him. The child inside of me wanted to believe that I could fix him and everything would be okay, that he really did want to see me.
Logan put his arm around my shoulder in good humor. I stared at my almost empty hot chocolate mug, leaned my head against his. His laughter started to die a little bit. I just needed the moment.
…
I ended up falling asleep on Carlos’ couch, and when I stirred, I could hear people talking in hushed voices and smell dinner cooking.
“You know how Carlos is, Logan. He’ll be fine. Just give him a little time.”
“Stephanie, I’m not really worried about how he’s taking it. I’m more worried about Kendall. He’s… he’s been weird since he got back. Something’s off.”
“You don’t think he’s on drugs too do you?”
“No. It’s not the same. It’s just… I’m worried about him. Did you see that scar in his hairline? And how clingy he was with me? He hasn’t acted this strange since… well… his dad walked out. Think I should talk to his mom?”
“Logan, you need to trust what he’s capable of. Kendall’s a big boy. He can handle himself-“
I made a bit more noise than I usually would to wake up to signal the end of their conversation. My body ached with every movement, and I could still feel James’ hands on my throat.
“Oh, you up?” Logan asked with that nervous chuckle that meant he was hiding something. “Hungry? Steph’s making dinner.”
“Mm,” I responded half-heartedly. “Where’s Carlos?”
I was feeling just a touch betrayed that Logan would talk about me behind my back, but I knew it was because he was worried.
“He made a run to the store. We’re out of milk and he wants to make chocolate malts for everyone. Says it cures all that ails. I certainly hope he’ll choose medicine over chocolate for our baby.”
“I’m sure he will,” I said, and I meant it. “He’ll be a great dad.”
“God, look at you. Your face is all swollen,” Stephanie said. “Want a steak for that eye?”
“It’s fine. A little late to try and get rid of this swelling.” My voice still sounded weird in my throat. James had done a hell of a number on me.
“Well, don’t go walking around L.A. alone, okay? Don’t want you getting anymore hurt,” Stephanie said.
“I can handle a little pain, Stephanie. But thanks.”
“Well, you’ve got a pretty face. Don’t go messing that up, okay? We need to get you a lady somehow, don’t we?”
I smiled. “I don’t really know if any ladies would be interested in me. I think we’ve been through this.”
“Alright, alright. Go sit.”
“He’s not… still mad at me, is he?”
“Who?”
“Carlos. Because of James.” I don’t know why I asked. Maybe my guilt was too strong.
“Kendall, honestly, I don’t think he remembers being mad at you. He was pretty drunk.”
“But he remembers James.”
“Yeah.”
“So he’s probably mad.”
“Kendall,” Logan said. “It’s not worth it. James… he’s… well, Kendall, he’s gone. I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again anytime soon.”
I wanted to punch Logan. But I’d gotten my fair share of punching for the day. He’d given up on James awfully fast.
Then again, maybe I should have too.
But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.