A/N: Hey guys! Here's a multi-chapter for your enjoyment! It is finished, so no chance of discontinuation. I apologize for any errors grammatically or otherwise...I'm trying to squeeze in posting and writing after work. Have fun!

Disclaimer: Don't own BTR.

Notes: Yes, I know James' b-day is in September in the show, but I went with July for the sake of fluidity.

Panic
Chapter 1: Year 14

No matter who you were or where you lived, there was one sad, terrifying truth that was universally accepted by everyone (except maybe one or two strange cases): age 14 was always a horrible year. Boy or girl, rich or poor, it was the year everything changed. Your voice cracked, your body ached, none of your clothes fit right, and, on top of it all, you became a high school freshman. No matter how good the previous summer may have been, all of your previous popularity and cafeteria rights get flushed down the toilet in a blur of zits, body odor, and bullies.

James Diamond thought that he could be one of the few exceptions to this pathetic truth when he turned the cursed year. His birthday was in July; right at the beginning of summer. He'd been quick to grow so far—of all the guys, he was already a full head above most of the kids around, and thanks to hockey, his body was filling out nicely with the curves and tone of an athlete. His voice was still a little awkward at times, but he was okay with that…especially after Mindy Johnson down the street said she thought it was cute. And let's be honest, he had the greatest hair of any teenager, ever.

On top of all of this, he had the three best friends in the whole world. As far as James was concerned, there was nothing that could ruin his first year of high school. He would be one of the lucky ones.

Oh, but how wrong he was.

When the bus pulled up to the county High School and the guys piled out with all their "first day" jitters, they instantly found themselves frozen on the sidewalk. They'd passed the place before, of course, but to stand in front of it actually having to go in, nothing but fear burst through them.

The building was huge. Enormous, actually. Kids from all around the county flocked there for their forced education. Last year, as Logan read, there were over 700 in the senior class…and that's not counting the drop-outs. Even from outside, it reeked of awkward and misery.

Stealing quick looks at each other, the guys took a deep breath, stepped forward, and promptly fell on their faces.

Ruthless laughs and giggles echoed all around them as a group of senior jocks admired their trick. Kendall barked and cursed when he looked down to see his shoelace tied to Logan's, Logan's to Carlos's, and Carlos's to James'.

"Ha! Welcome to your worst nightmare dweebs!" Marc O'Reilly howled, clapping his teammates on the shoulders before sauntering off.

James rolled his eyes. It would have to be those bullies that would haunt them all year. Ever since grade school, Marc and his gang thrived on attacking James, Kendall, Logan, and Carlos. It was a battle for territory, really. And this year, Marc was the senior hockey captain; Kendall was the rising hockey star. As far as Marc was concerned, there could only be one star in every school, and he did everything in his power to make sure it was him.

Before anyone could stop him, Kendall ripped out his tied shoelace and bolted across the schoolyard shouting bloody murder. James and Carlos were quick to follow, leaving Logan to pick up the rear begging them to "let it go."

And so James realized, as he and his friends ended up bloody and bruised in the principal's office on the very first day of their freshman year, maybe he wouldn't be one of those glorious exceptions after all.

The time to come only served to prove that fact so solidly in James' mind that he all but gave up hope completely that any part of year 14 would be enjoyable. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into cold Minnesota months. By December, James was failing four classes, two penalties away from expulsion of the hockey team, and so beyond exhaustion he barely cared anymore.

The guys noticed, of course, even though James refused to admit that life was anything but fine—that things weren't exactly as perfect as he made them out to be. But they knew whatever was wrong went far beyond school difficulties and irritating bullies.

"We need to do something," Logan finally announced one day between classes. He, Kendall, and Carlos were gathered around Kendall's locker. An uncharacteristically heavy silence had been hanging between them all day. James was still in class, held back by the teacher. If there were any time to have this conversation, Logan figured, right then was it. "I think something's really wrong with James."

Kendall sighed, forgetting the books he'd been searching his locker for. "I know, but we've tried everything already. Whatever it is, he doesn't want to talk about it."

Logan rolled his eyes. "That doesn't mean he shouldn't. I mean…if we don't figure out how to help soon, he's going to explode…or drop out. Either way, we've got'ta do something."

Carlos looked worried. It was an expression that settled particularly heartbreaking on his innocent face. "He'd do anything to help us."

"I know that, Carlos," Kendall agreed softly. There was silence again as Kendall thought. And then, lightbulb. "Look, we have a four day weekend starting tomorrow. Four days, just the four of us doing everything James loves the most. Maybe that will cheer him up?"

Logan and Carlos grinned. Kendall always had the best plans. "Movie marathons, hockey, and cocoa!" Carlos exclaimed triumphantly.

"The perfect weekend," agreed Logan.

"What's perfect?"

Kendall, Logan, and Carlos jumped as James suddenly appeared behind them with a small smile.

They all saw the sadness lingering deep in his eyes. Carlos took it upon himself to make it better, as he often did. "Only what will surely be the most epic four-day-weekend ever!" he grinned, throwing an arm around his tall friend.

James chuckled. "Do we have plans?"

Logan and Kendall shared a knowing glance. "Oh, we have plans," said Kendall, they grew serious. "Hey, what'd the teacher want?"

James shrugged as his friends stared at him expectantly. "Oh nothin'…just told me if I fail another test, I flunk the class."

He said it as if he said he needed to do laundry, but Logan saw through it. "Flunk?! But you've always gotten good grades in health class!"

James just shrugged again, expression blank. "It's no big deal. I just have to ace Tuesday's test, that's all," very quickly, James faked a peak at his watch. "I got'ta run guys, see ya' at practice later."

And off he went, casually bolting down the hall without a trace. "Well that was strange…" Kendall muttered.

"Yeah," Logan's brow creased with worry. "He's not even wearing a watch."

3:25 rolled around quickly that day. Logan met up with Kendall and Carlos outside the locker room just as they came out, changed for practice. "Hey, where's James?"

Kendall's deep brows furrowed. "We were hoping he was already changed with you? Practice starts in five minutes!"

Logan shook his head. "No, I got caught up in chemistry earlier! He can't be late again, Coach'll kill him!"

Carlos hopped up and down nervously as his two friends freaked out. He was about to volunteer to find their missing brother when—

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" they heard James yelling as he bolted down the hall, backpack whipping painfully as he ran. "I know, I know, I'm late. I got it. Just got'ta change!" he didn't even stop when he reached the boys, just rushed through them and into the locker room at a speed only his long legs could muster.

Meanwhile, the other three sighed in relief and made their way to the rink. If nothing else, maybe they could delay Coach a minute to give James a chance to sneak in. He'd been late five times in the past month; something their coach simply would not tolerate, no matter what the reason. Besides that, he'd already gained more penalties and warnings then Kendall and Carlos put together. Many were undeserved and mattered little to the Coach, but the 'unsportsmanlike conduct' strikes put him on Coach's bad side forever.

That was the great downside of this particular hockey season: the Coach was also Marc O'Reilly's uncle. So, when Marc threw a punch at Kendall last month and James beat the crap out of him for it…let's just say that what was a slap on the wrist for Marc turned into a federal offense for James. He'd been benched for three games, and warned that just two more penalties would have him kicked off the team for the rest of the year.

That being said, James couldn't afford to be late again.

In the locker room, James changed in record time, getting out his gear and lacing up his skates with just enough extra seconds to take a deep breath. He was trying desperately not to think about why he'd almost been late, but he couldn't help it. The school guidance counselor had cornered him after math class. The kindly old woman's face was solemn and concerned. She mistook his sudden turn for bad grades as a lack of responsibility. She berated him quietly, warning that if he didn't pull it together before the semester's end, he'd likely get held back a year. He tried to convince her that he had everything under control, but her expression quickly turned hard as steel.

"This is your freshman year of high school, James. If you mess up now, you'll ruin everything for yourself."

Her words haunted him as he changed for hockey practice. Absently, he felt his heartbeat fluttering in his chest when he breathed and the slight tremble to his hands as he furiously tied the laces of his skates. Before he could dwell on it, James shook his head and slapped his cheek lightly.

"In the moment, Diamond. Don't think about it. You got this," he instructed himself quietly as he grabbed his hockey stick and left the quiet room for the ice rink.

The guys had covered for him, as he knew he would, and practice started without trouble. Still, James just couldn't shake the trembling beneath his skin. Every movement, every thought seemed to electrify itself inside his veins, and suddenly concentrating on hockey drills seemed hopeless.

Risking a look at the LED clock above the rink, James counted the minutes until practice was over. 60, 59, 58…even as he rushed from one side of the rink to the other with the rest of the team, he could feel himself slowly losing control.

He wasn't paying attention. He hadn't even been looking where he was going until bang! James' skates ripped out from under him. He swore he's just collided with a brick wall. But looking up, he caught the angry red stare of one Marc O'Reilly. Eyes widening, James realized what he'd done. All the sudden, he was wishing there was a brick wall.

From afar, he heard his friends calling his name, but they were on the other side of the rink. Too far away to save him.

"What's your problem, Diamond?!" Marc boomed in a deep, growling voice. Abruptly, the enormous senior grabbed a hold of the collar of James' jersey and ripped him to a wobbly stand.

On a normal day, James would have no problem defending himself. He might be smaller than the bad-tempered senior, but he was also faster…normally. That particular day found James weak at the knees and bordering on hyperventilation. Forcing a nervous smile to his face, James tried to talk the big boy down. He already knew it wouldn't work. "H-hey Marc…I am soo sorry about that. Ha…guess I j-just blanked out for a min-minute, ya' know?"

Marc grinned, but it wasn't comforting. "Yeah," he began, grey eyes piercing like lasers. "I do. Why don't you go blank out somewhere else, huh?"

Before James could even react, Marc's fist plowed through his cheek and pushed him back. Dazed, James lost his balance and crashed to the ice.

Vision spotting with black, James lay sprawled on the ice, relishing the coldness on his cheek. Even through the growing slowness of his consciousness, he could hear yelling and fighting all around him. He tried to look, tried to watch, but if Marc had one thing, it was a solid knock-out punch.

Around him, Carlos, Logan, and Kendall had arrived to his rescue, all though a little late. The team was squared off in a battle between sides: those who liked Kendall and those who followed Marc. In a flurry of seconds, the rink echoed with the sounds of punching, yelling, and hockey sticks cracking. Blood spotted the ice and splinters tripped up skates, but the rage of the team was far too gone to notice.

Until, that is, the piercing echo of an air horn exploded through the air and silenced the boys frozen.

"What on Earth is going on in here?!"

James groaned, recognizing the voice in a heartbeat.

Coach.

"I leave you rats for one minute and this is what you do!" the intimidating ex-marine was screaming. There wasn't a boy on that ice who didn't shrink back in fear. Even Marc twitched. The big man stomped onto the ice and shoved his way to the center of the fight.

There he found two things: James, barely conscious with Logan hovering protectively beside him, and Kendall holding Marc in a fierce headlock.

"Explain. NOW!" he screamed, making Kendall jump so bad he released Marc.

Logan knew it was his turn. "James knocked into Marc, and he punched him for it," he stated simply, voice steady and eyes glaring fearlessly at the bloodied senior.

Coach's eyes narrowed and glare settled on his nephew. "Is that true, Marc?"

Suddenly the big bad jock was cowering. "H-he was attacking me for no reason!" he yelled, shoving an excusing finger in James' direction. "He started it!"

James tried to get up, tried to defend himself, but his head was splitting and the slick wetness dripping down his cheek was making him nauseas. He wanted to be strong and take the hit like a man, but Kendall beat him to it.

"Oh, right!" the blonde started, temper exploding. "Like James would actually run into you on purpose! Cut the crap, O'Reilly! You just want him off the team because he's better than you!"

That struck a bone. But just as Marc was about to pounce, Coach ripped out his air-horn again. This time he aimed right in front of the boys' faces. Kendall yelled, Marc covered his ears, and silence fell around them again. "That's ENOUGH! I've had enough of you maggots today! Go home, all of you! NOW!"

Most of the team scattered quickly, some not even bothering to grab their things in the locker room. Marc would have stayed behind to finish the fight with Kendall, but his uncle had other plans. With only Marc and Kendall and his friends left on the ice, Coach's glaring deepened. "You," he pointed to Marc. "Wait for me in my office. Go."

Marc sulked and pouted, but did what he was told. As he left the ice, Coach turned back to the last four boys left. He looked at each of them, staring them down. Carlos had a black eye already forming, but was still standing strong with broken hockey stick in hand. Kendall was worse for wear, but also standing; his lip was split and cheek was bruised. Logan didn't seem to have any injures. Coach imagined he'd forgone all the fighting in order to check on his fallen friend. Internally, the Coach's military background respected the boy's loyalty.

And then there was James.

James. Coach shook his head. Of course he wasn't an idiot. The kid did have talent on the ice, but he simply wouldn't follow the pecking order. Marc was a senior. Coach needed him to be the star this year. Not a bunch of scrawny freshman. Currently the kid was slowly picking himself up from the ice, eyes glazed and blood streaming down his cheek from Marc's solid punch.

"You four have been a thorn in my side all year. Knight, Garcia, Mitchell, I'm writing each of your up with warnings. One more and you're out," he added, directing to Kendall and Carlos.

"Diamond," he drawled out, eyes boring into James' just to scare him.

James held his breath. His heart was already fluttering; he knew what was coming.

"You're done."

And suddenly, all the boys were up in arms screaming a chorus of 'What?!' and 'that's not fair!' Only Coach's air-horn shut them up again.

He looked back to James, who seemed close to tears. "I don't care who's fault this whole mess was. You've been warned more than once, Diamond. You're off the team for the rest of the season. Fix your attitude and try again next year."

Before even giving them a chance to fight back, Coach turned and walked off the ice, leaving them alone and more than a little depressed.

James, for his part, was determined to take this latest disappointment well. His heart was pounding in his ears, and it was a little hard to breathe, but he knew he had it under control. Taking a deep sigh, he ran a trembling hand through his hair and shook his head, ashamed. "I'm sorry guys, this's all my fault," his voice was quiet and strained. They could see just how hard he was trying to hide it.

All three of them acted at once. Logan put a gentle hand on James' shoulder. Carlos and Kendall both skated close, expressions sad and riddled with unplaced guilt. "No way, man," Carlos started. "It's not your fault the O'Reilly clan's a bunch of jerks."

Kendall was steaming; his temper was still overflowing from the fight. "That a-hole should've gotten dropped, not you!"

James forced himself to smile. "Don't worry about it. There's only a couple months left of the season anyway," he was desperately trying to lift the guys' spirits, and his own. "Besides, maybe now I can pick my grades up!"

With his proclamation, James jumped up. Maybe a little too fast. "Whoa there, buddy," Logan yelped, rushing to support James when the taller boy swayed. "Are you sure you're okay? You should really see the nurse."

James shrugged him off. Yes, he appreciated the gesture and (honestly) would rather have Logan's help, but he was more concerned about his clever friend noticing how he was trembling; how his heart felt as if it was about to explode.

"Naa…I'm good, really," he grinned, pulling away. "Listen guys I got'ta get home. Mom wanted me right after practice, and I got'ta clean this up first," he added, gesturing to his cheek.

Kendall sighed. He'd really thought James was finally going to tell them what was going on, but alas. No luck today. "You still comin' over tonight? Movies and cocoa, remember?"

For a fraction of a second, James' eyes widened. "Oh, yeah, yeah…right. Lem'me check with Mom, and I'll text ya'," not waiting for an answer, James quickly skated off the ice and made for the lockers.

Carlos, Kendall, and Logan shared looks. Logan huffed, "I'm telling you, man. Something is seriously wrong with him. I mean…he's actually shaking. I know James's always been sensitive, but never about a fight."

Carlos nodded. "Yeah, and I feel like he's gon'na blow us off later, too."

Kendall sighed again and shook his head. Sometimes he felt more like a worried father than a friend…and he was the youngest. "I know, I know…but we can't force it out of him. He'll tell us when he's ready," then, smirking, added "our job is just to make sure he's ready sometime this weekend."

TBC

A/N: So, interested? Please review! It will make me post the next chapter sooner! :) Thanks!