Hello everyone, the next and last chapter is up! I know that comes as a letdown to some of you (Yay! They like me, they really like me!), but I found a good place to end it. Never fear I shall write more. Thanks one more time to everyone who reviewed. I love you all, and I sincerely appreciate the sentiments. I might actually try writing for real one day, and it helps to know there are at least a few people out there who believe in me.

Disclaimer: Je ne possede rien.

Warning: This is a little more graphic than I usually get. I don't think it's too bad, but if you're super squeamish, just watch out, okay?

I flew down the hallway, dodging people in suits as they spilled out into the corridor. Nobody paid me any attention, as they were more concerned with the blaring alarm. I was wondering why everyone seemed so panicky when I heard the first explosion. A wall a ways ahead of me blew out, showering the area in ashes and plaster.

I heard another explosion, this one from behind me. Oh god, the facility was self-destructing. This must be my father's contingency plan. If he knew that his trust had been betrayed, and discovery was imminent, he would have to destroy all evidence of any wrong doing. I had to get out of here.

I turned a corner and was thrown backwards, by the blast from a room a few yards away. I saw a body hit the wall and slide down to rest crumpled on the floor. I scooted back in horror, frantically scrambling to my feet. No wonder everyone was so scared, they weren't supposed to make it out alive. My father wanted to get rid of all the evidence.

Where was the exit? There had to be a way out of here somehow. I ran down yet another hallway, dodging chunks of the ceiling as it rained down me. I sucked in hot ash, and smoke made my eyes stream. A particularly large chunk of plaster landed right in front of me, and I tripped over it, falling sprawled on the tiled floor.

I hauled myself back up and kept going. It was growing unbearably hot in here, just like my desperate flight this afternoon. I tried to think logically. I'd entered the small office, taken a left, then a right, and then a final left into the operating room. When I'd run out of there, I'd gone left then taken two rights. The building was a warehouse, it was huge, but if I kept going in one direction I should reach on exit. If I took a left at the end of this corridor, then took the next available right, and repeated this every time I reached an end, I'd be continuously going in the same direction and should be able to find a way out.

Satisfied with my plan, I instigated it. Running down the halls, I passed more bodies and more debris. I could hear explosions going off in the distance. This place must be bigger than I thought. Maybe it connected to another warehouse. I really hoped not.

I hastened down a stark white hallway, and passed a door just as it was blown off its hinges. I ducked, but felt something connect with my forehead. I stumbled forward and slid a foot on my knees. My fingers probed the cut on my head. It was maybe two inches long and bleeding profusely. It wasn't serious.

I picked myself up and carried on. It felt like I'd been doing that a lot lately. Suddenly, the red light of the hallways was broken by a flash of blue. I picked up my pace, approaching the end of the corridor. Yes, I'd reached the edge of the building. A row of windows ran along this wall. Outside, I could see cop cars parked, with police swarming all over the area. Behind them was the ocean.

I felt rejuvenated, and for the first time in the past hour, I felt like I might actually survive this ordeal. My friends had come for me. They'd found me. Now all I had to do was get to them.

Door, door, I needed a door. More explosions rocked the foundation, but this time the rumbling didn't die out. It kept going, growing louder and louder. Part of the building was collapsing. I sprinted desperately faster. I was too close. Too close.

There. A set of double doors sat two-hundred feet down. I somehow pushed myself even faster. My legs burned in protest. I threw myself at the doors, feeling the bar depress, the latch click, and then feeling myself being yanked back inside.

I was thrown down in a heap facing the doors and the man who'd detained me. I looked up into a nightmare. My father stood before me, but he looked as if he'd been caught in one of the explosions. The left half of his straight, brown hair had been burnt off, leaving a blackened scalp. His scrubs were scorched and darkened, pockmarked with holes. His left arm was covered in blisters and blackened flecks of skin were peeling off. One of his shoes was partially melted.

He grabbed the front of my button-up and slammed me into the wall. His eyes burned into mine. The flesh from his face sagged grotesquely. "You did this."

I flinched back from the stench of burning flesh. "Let me go!"

He slammed me into the wall again and I saw stars. "You did this! You ruined everything I ever worked for!"

"Let me go! I did nothing! You brought this on yourself!" I brought my knee up and smashed my foot into his stomach. He released me with a shriek and fell to the floor clutching his stomach.

"You're insane! You killed all those innocent people!" My chest heaved with the emotion I'd been repressing. He was on his feet faster than I could follow and tackled me. We both hit the wall, hard. Bracing myself against it, I shoved off, pushing my father away. He stumbled over some rubble and went down, but his hand snaked around my wrist taking me with him.

Going down, I noticed flames licking their way up the corridor. The air was slowly becoming un-breathable.

We rolled through the plaster and ashes, each struggling to pin the other. My father gained the upper hand and pinned me to the floor. His hands wrapped around my throat. I twisted underneath him and tried to force his hands off, but I couldn't get any leverage. I saw black spots and struggled more desperately. My chest burned painfully, both from the smoke and the lack of oxygen. In one last attempt I bucked my hips, trying to launch him off. It worked, and he flipped over me.

I staggered to my feet, coughing. There was an ominous creaking, and I stumbled over towards the door. The whole ceiling, weakened from the explosions and the all-consuming flames, fell. My father gave one last screech before he was buried in the wreckage with a sickening crunch. I stood still for one second, feeling the hot ash rain down on me, staring at the place where the man who used to be my father lay buried. I didn't know what I felt, but none of it felt good.

I pushed the door open. Cool, night air bathed my face. I breathed it in, covetously, feeling the ache in my chest ease slightly. I looked out at the sea of cops, but couldn't see past the blaring headlights. My eyes watered.

A figure broke free from the crowd and came sprinting towards me. I braced myself, unable to identify the shadowy form. It slammed into me, and I felt arms wrap around me. Carlos.

"Logan! Are you okay? What happened? Is the building blowing up? I thought I'd never see you again!"

"Carlos-"

"Wow look at all the smoke. What was in there?"

"Carlos-" I tried again.

"Why is it blowing up? Were they making bombs?"

"Carlos!"

"What?"

"You're crushing me." His arms were painfully tight against my battered body.

"Oh, sorry!" He jumped back.

By this time I could see, Kendall and James sprinting towards us. James reached me first and enveloped me in another tight hug, but he released me long before Carlos had. Kendall was the most gentle, but he didn't let go.

"Logan, are you alright?"

"Yeah… mostly," Kendall pulled back a little, but didn't let go.

He searched my face then said, "No you're not."

James and Carlos crowded around us. I felt them wrap their arms around us in a group hug. I just buried my face into Kendall's chest, feeling his arms tighten slightly. In a few minutes we'd have to break apart, we'd have to face the police and answer an endless stream of questions, but for the moment, in my best friends' arms, I was safe.

{/}

Julian Sweetwater was rescued from the rubble eight hours after the first explosion. He would have burn scars across his right arm and chest, and had permanently lost the use of his left arm. He will not serve any jail time.

Numerous unidentifiable bodies were found on the scene, but two were found perfectly preserved being held in a refrigerated area underneath the compound. They were identified as William Avery and Jeffrey Jonsom.

Kyle Mitchell's body was never recovered, but it is believed that his remains were burned beyond anything recognizable.

Dr. Emily Amherst ended up being the doctor on call almost every single time later that one or more of the boys needed to be rushed to the emergency room. She got to know them all quite well, especially Logan, whom she let ply her for answers to all his medical questions.

Officer Henderson wrapped up the case, and was given a commendation by his superior officer. He went on in life to marry the woman of his dreams and have three kids, all boys.

Originally, there wasn't this little epilogue thingy tacked on the end, but you guys all loved Julian so much that I couldn't just leave him buried under the rubble. This is it, the end of "Burned." Don't look for me too soon. I promised my sister I'd write her a James fic, plus I think I'm going to actually write a few chapters of a story before I just impulsively post something. As always, leave me a review and thanks one more time for all the support!