So, it's been 3 years. I'm really sorry. That's all I have to say.

Also I don't own Big Time Rush.

It was interesting, Linda thought, that when she threw the door to room 436 wide, wide open, the TV was on. The news, actually; something about the weather and how nice it wasn't.

Logan had jumped, and for the first fraction of a moment, his eyes had been a little wider, a little more frightened than they'd been the last time that Linda had seen them. But then his smile was back.

"Did you hear about Phil Robertson? Big scandal or something. Personally-"

Linda didn't quite remember crossing the room, but somehow she must have made it to his bed because now she was holding him and he was real. His hair, his face, his hands… all real. All alive.

"He told us you were dead." Her voice broke into his shoulder. "Baby, I thought-" She couldn't finish, but she didn't let go.

"Well, I'm- I'm not," Logan cleared his throat and used one hand to hug Linda back, "I'm fine, see?" He gently pushed her back and smiled his brightest for her, all teeth and as gleaming as ever. Of course, the contrast against the black eye and busted lip may have made them seem a little whiter. "It'd be a good focal point, I think, for the album cover. You know, if Gustavo wants to try the bad-boy thing again."

"Logan…" She ran her fingers through his hair- gently, just in case- and paused with her hand resting on his forehead, which was still warm.

"Really, Mom," He pulled her arm down, "I'm okay. Just a little sore. Tired. You know."

"Just a little sore?" The corners of her mouth turned up enough to show that she was calling his bluff, but not enough to imply that she thought anything was funny. Linda found herself staring at his other arm, the one taped to his chest, and her tiny smile fell back down.

"Only a little." He was better at the quick grins than she was. "It'll heal. It's fine."

"I'm not so worried about that as I am about this," she tapped his chest, "and this." The second time, she tapped his temple.

"I'm fine, Mom, okay?"

Linda sighed and put her hands in her lap. "You don't need to-"

"Don't tell me to be honest, I swear to God."

'Don't tell me to be honest, Linda, I swear to God…"

That's what He'd said, the night she left with Logan. Exactly what Derek had said.

"You swear what, Logan?" She met his eyes. "Because a lot of people before you have made promises and broken them, and that's why you're here." She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't cry, she wouldn't cry… "So I will tell you to be honest, and you need to listen to me, okay? You will not break promises or tell lies and you will not be in my position, ever. You won't ever know what it feels like to hit your son, or to be the reason he's in a hospital bed, and you will be honest, Logan. Do you understand me?"

Logan closed his eyes and the question hung in the air and Linda was sure it was hypnotizing her, swinging back and forth. She could nearly see it.

"There are going to be secrets, Mom." He opened his eyes, cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."

Almost before he'd finished talking, Linda had forced her eyes to dry and changed the subject.

"You have more visitors, by the way."

"Do I?"

Logan, for his part, had not shed a single tear and Linda couldn't tell whether that made him brave, or afraid, or something, somewhere else.

"You didn't think I'd come alone?" She smiled. He didn't. "Do you want me to get them?"

"I'd rather you tell them that I'm sleeping."

He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the TV.

"Lotta drugs in those IV's, you know?"

Linda nodded. "I know."

The TV flicked off, and Logan put the remote back on the table beside him.

"I'm not supposed to be watching anything. Concussion and all."

"Get some rest, Logan," Linda stood and kissed the top of his head, ruffling his hair just a little bit. "I love you. Very much."

She'd been afraid that she would be met again with silence, so when he said 'I love you, too', Linda felt a thousand pounds fall away.

Logan hadn't thought he'd fallen asleep until the door opened and woke him up. He snapped his eyes open and then shut again, freezing. When he heard Carlos's voice instead of Derek's, he could breathe and realized that as uncomfortable as the hospital's bed may have been, it was better than a basement floor. He was okay.

He opened his eyes again and kept them that way, and pushed himself more upright.

"Oh, crap, sorry, Logie, I didn't mean to wake you up, just wanted to bring you this donut because they were handing them out and-"

"You're good, Carlos. Don't worry about it." When Logan smiled for Carlos, it was a real one.

"So… how're you feeling?" Carlos found the chair by the bed and sat down, handing Logan the donut. "Look, it's got those weirdo red sprinkles that you like and everything."

"That is absolutely discriminatory, red sprinkles have never done anything to you," Logan's first bite was bigger than it should have been, which was perfect for getting out, "Wyke I gof fhot" without being too blunt.

But Carlos looked like he'd been punched anyway.

"I tried to catch up, I swear, I-"

"Carlos. Stop." Logan swallowed the rest of the donut bite. "Nobody can outrun a car. Not you, or me, or, Kendal or even James. Plus, he shot me before you got there, so…"

He took another bite, ignoring Carlos's look of, 'Wow this is really unlike you, have you gone insane?'.

"You seem really… calm, and stuff."

"I've been told it's a defense mechanism." Logan raised his eyebrows, staring down the wall. "There was a lot of psychological 'counseling'," He made quotation marks with his fingers, "Going on in the hour or so in between when I woke up and when my mom came in. Apparently, this is called 'being in denial', which is arbitrary, because I have yet to 'deny' anything."

"Oh." Carlos nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees and folding his hands. Logan watched him out of the corner of his eye, and knew that he needed to not talk so much.

"Sorry. Lotta drugs."

"What?"

"IV. Painkillers."

"Right."

"You ever been high?"

Carlos stared at Logan, tapped his foot inside his shoe, and contemplated whether or not Logan would remember this the next day.

"Once or twice."

"Really?" Logan nodded, and Carlos could almost hear the 'Interesting' behind it.

"I mean, c'mon, man… what sober fool tries to feed marinara sauce to root beer?" Carlos laughed, just one, tiny puff of air and he was amazed because it felt kind of good to say it. "You?"

It was Logan's turn for a discreet smile.

"Once or twice."He was kind of grinning, but then very quickly, kind of not. "My dad used to, so I used to, around when I moved from Colorado."

"Well, hey, Colorado." Carlos nudged him, and tried to bring the laughing back.

"Can I ask you to do something for me?" Logan had already moved on. Carlos bit his lip, because there was something about the way Logan was talking that made him nervous.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure."

"When I get older, get married, have kids… If I turn out to be a father in a way like my dad turned out to be a father, take care of them. Kick my ass and take care of them." Logan's hands were betraying him, shaking.

"Logan, you wouldn't-"

"I could." He swallowed back the rock, the boulder, the solar system in his throat, "I could, Carlos. I am a lot like him sometimes, and that scares me- to hell, it scares me- and I just need to know that they'll have someone."

Carlos dipped his head and let his eyelids fall. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…

"Carlos."

Carlos pulled gaze back up. He'd never seen a more desperate look in his life.

"Yeah. Yeah, man, you've got me." Blessed are thou among women…

"They've got you."

"They've got me." And blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus…

"Thank you." Logan took a deep, deep breath in. "But, Carlos…"

"Yeah?" Holy Mary, mother of God…

"I don't wanna be that kind of father." He choked on the very last word, and seemed to be trying very, very hard not to cry.

"Ah, c'mon," Carlos punched Logan in the shoulder, very lightly. Pray for us sinners…

Logan's entire body was shaking, and he looked to Carlos, almost like he was apologizing for something.

Now, and at the hour of our death…

Carlos nodded, and put his hand over Logan's fist. "You won't be."

Amen.

He watched the first tear fall, and halfway through the second, got his act together and gave the best side hug he knew how over the rail of the bed.

"You're a good man, Logan."

Amen.

Oh lawd. Back in business. I wanted to make this longer but I've spent the past like 4ish hours doing this instead of studying for my AP English midterm tomorrow regardless of how impossible I've heard that it is, or for the French exam which I mean my French teacher is crazy so I'm sure that it'll be hard too. Oh well. I'm 3 years and 2 months behind on a promised update so I figured... sorry for taking so long. I do plan to finish this, because I haven't finished anything before and I think that it would be good to do that once. I missed you guys, by the way :) Now, hopefully, I can find the publish button because apparently has done a bit of rearranging since the last time I was here so yeah... Anyway the chapter may or may not have made sense so I apologize ALSO VERY IMPORTANT ABOUT DRUGS AND CARLOS I'm not sure about that. I might get rid of it. Let me know what you think, 'k? I can't decide and I kind of hate it but kind of like it so yeah help. Loveyoubye.