Author's Note: Let's see…started this one a while ago, but I never really finished it. I kind of just got a sudden bout of inspiration (which I have been lacking of lately) and decided to finish it! I actually really like how this one ended up. I really tried getting inside Carlos' head and I'm not sure if I did a very good job doing it, but it was really fun nonetheless. So go on, read, and tell me what you think.

Warnings: Abuse, language, slash.

Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush.

Carlos' breaths were deep and ragged under the thick blanket covering his form. His unclothed chest rose and fell with the effort of breathing beneath the suffocating covers. The natural light streaming through the opened window next to the bed easily permeated through the warm fabric and reflected off his light brown eyes. The Latino sighed quietly to himself.

He's been up for at least twenty minutes now. Of course, he wasn't exactly poking his head out every five minutes to look at the time, but Carlos had a knack for these sorts of things. That, and the offending light was beginning to get stronger. The teen knew he should be getting up for school, but he just couldn't find the energy to do so. Surprisingly, he actually managed to get a couple peaceful hours of sleep, but his body seemed just as sore as ever. His muscles ached with a dull intensity that no miracle patch could soothe. The bruise behind his right shoulder was particularly painful, but it was already starting to fade. The smooth skin of his left pectoral was also tender but yellowing as well. Overall, Carlos didn't really have any room to complain. With one, sudden movement the raven pulled the sheets off of him and onto the floor. He sat up carefully, resisting the urge to stretch. He knew from experience that the action would only bring a slight burn instead of the desired relaxing effect.

The teen carefully hung his toned, hairless legs over the edge of the bed and looked down over his knees at the floor. It was times like these he hated being so short and having such a high bed. He closed his eyes expectantly and jumped down the couple few inches to the hardwood floor. He barely hissed even as the hot fire travelled up his body from the small impact.

"Everybody knows that I want you.

If you want me, baby, show me!

Roll the windows d-"

Carlos' eyes widened as his head snapped to the right. The alarm clock! He forgot to set it off! He completely ignored the pain in his body, his heart pumping a small dose of adrenaline into his bloodstream as he ran to his bedside and yanked the alarm clear off of the wall with an unnecessary amount of force. For a long minute, all Carlos heard was the sound of warm blood rushing to his ears. Soft, vulnerable brown eyes remained glued to the polished gold knob of the wood stained door. Time froze. The Latino was motionless until he was able to convince his fear struck body that no one was coming. He was safe for the time being.

The teen rubbed his hands up and down his face as he let out a sigh of relief. He couldn't help but to think of how pathetic he was. It was the same every morning. Every day. Every night. His life seemed to have become some warped, cynical form of what it used to be. He wasn't positive when everything had begun to fall apart, but one thing was for sure. Things weren't going back to the way they were. No, that was too much for even Carlos to believe.

The Hispanic dropped his hands to his sides as he walked to the small bathroom inside his room. His bare feet thudded against the cold floor quietly until he reached the even colder tile floor of the bathroom. He completely ignored the mirror, the sink, and the toilet as he peeled off his brown and orange boxers. He stepped out of them and into the shower before turning on the water without so much as a second thought. Instantly, freezing cold pellets bombarded his tanned skin. His shoulders slumped and his head tilted back. The chilly water ran down his bruised body like rivulets of tears diverging into separate paths.

He allowed his mind to drift into the choppy waters he often desperately tried to avoid. Faces began flashing through his mind. The first one a middle-aged woman with a light brown skin complexion and straight, dark brown hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. The woman was silent and motionless as her moist, hazel eyes pierced through his blank, brown ones. Deep lines seemed to be permanently sketched onto her face, giving her an unfitting, worried expression. Carlos' lips parted slightly. The water sliding down from the top of his head travelled along the ridge of his nose and off his body from his full, upper lip. Then, just like that, the woman was gone. In her place was a completely different figure. Carlos wasn't ready for this one. Without another thought, the Hispanic's arms flew up and covered his face as he released a small whimper into the cold, moist air. His eyelids shut forcefully in apprehension of what he believed to be coming. His knees begin to tremble beneath the weight of his own, battered body and not too long after that, the teen finds himself sitting on his own legs.

The frosty water, now completely missing his body, sounded through the bathroom as it continued its course until reaching the side of the tub and hitting it like rain on a tin roof. The heavy noise was enough to pull at the Latino's attention, slowly but steadily bringing him back to reality. Carlos' eyes focused once more. He looked around, seeing nothing but the purple shower curtain and the clear water beneath him. He released a shaky breath. He could feel it coming. This barrier. This barrier he always held up to protect him from his own feelings. He could feel it succumbing to this particularly strong salvo of emotion.

Carlos' palms flew up to cover his face just as the first sob escaped his lips. This can't be happening. The hits he could take. The constant fear he could deal with. But not this. Not now. Why? Why after so long was this happening to him now? Carlos hated that word, why. It never led him anywhere. It only made things worse. Like now. The brunet's shoulders trembled weakly as his cries increased in volume. He covered his mouth, trying to quiet down, but it was to no avail. His salty tears mixed with the cold water of the shower and rand down his cut, swollen knuckles. The tears were too much. They'd leave his eyes red and puffy for sure. He had to calm down.

Carlos closed his eyes. He desperately racked his brain for any source of comfort. Almost instantly, he came across a beautiful face. Pale skin and dark brown, passionate eyes. Gelled, spiky hair and a crooked smile. A soft voice and even softer laugh. The Hispanic's sobs ended. His quivering quelled completely. He wrapped his arms around himself in a sad hug. He imagined it was Logan's thick, muscled arms around his bruised body that were comforting him. Yeah. That's it. Logan was always there for him. He cleared his throat, inexplicably embarrassed by his breakdown. His jaw tightened and he stood up off the shower floor. He let his arms fall to his sides before reaching forward and cutting the water off. His eyes finally opened. In place of the glazed, hurt look they held minutes ago, they were now hard and angry.

This is all his fault! If it weren't for him, everything would be fine! His life would be normal, he'd be normal! He was the reason he woke up bruised and aching, the reason he dreaded getting ready to go to school in the morning. He was the reason he dreaded going back home even more. Home. The Latino's anger seemed to simmer down at the thought of the word. Could he really call this cold, lonely place his home? Did it still count as one if the people living outside it went unaware of the things that happened within it? Carlos wasn't exactly sure anymore.

He stayed there. He could feel the small drops of water on his skin cooling down, but he ignored it. He thought back to the first face he had seen through the mist of the hot shower. God, he missed her. He wished more than anything that she was still here. But then he thought back to when he was younger, the way she had protected him from the blows. Never once did she hesitate to wrap her weak arms around his small body to absorb the pain aimed at him. She was the one thing in his life that had any semblance of a normal life: a mother that would do anything for her child. He was being selfish, he knew it. If his mother was still here, she'd still be suffering alongside him. He was sure that if she was still here, the roles would have been reversed. He'd be the one protecting her from the heavy blows. But he'd never be able to block all of them. Even she was unable to do that for him. This way, she was safe.

A small shiver ran down the Hispanic's drenched back, bringing him back to awareness. He reluctantly got up and out of the shower, reaching for the big, fluffy towel hanging off the rack to dry himself off. Every movement was cautious and timid due to his current state. Once he was dried off, he made his way back to his room. As opposed to how quiet he was being earlier, Carlos couldn't force himself to care anymore. He shook his head and scoffed as he stomped to the small closet and pulled out his clothes. Getting dressed took longer than he'd wanted it to, but what else was new?

Once he finished tying the laces of his shoes, he grabbed his house keys and cell phone off of his side table and walked out of the room. He walked down the eerily quiet hallway towards the stairs, but stopped just as his foot landed on the first step down. A loud squeak echoed through the house from the noisy wooden floor, but the sound went unnoticed by the Latino as he turned his gaze further down the hall. His eyes narrowed at the dark, stained wooden door at the end. His jaw clenched furiously. He'd never done this before. He'd never allowed himself to stay in the house longer than he had to. Never once had he allowed himself to be so blatantly stupid and walk around this house like it was a home. But beyond all that, never once had Carlos felt this uncontrollable, unimaginable, insufferable rage. Something was definitely different today. He found himself rooted to the spot, and unlike other times he's found himself in this situation, fear wasn't the thing keeping him in place. There was no question about it; the fear was still there, lingering under all the hate and resentment like a cancer refusing to go away. But strangely enough, it was barely registering in the Latino's heated glare.

He pulled himself away from the spot and calmly walked down the stairs. What was going? Usually he'd be tip-toeing his way out of here with his tail between his legs, but now…now what? What made now different from last year? Last week? Yesterday? This morning when he woke up? Carlos thought back to his breakdown in the shower. It was the first time something like that had happened. He'd never allowed himself to fall apart like that, but he couldn't hold it in any longer. Even then, the Latino had done it unintentionally and unwillingly. He could fell the wall he built around himself to protect him from his pesky emotions crumbling. Maybe that was it? Maybe that was all he needed in order to start fighting back? Could he even do that, fight back? The Latino grabbed his backpack next to the door and gingerly swung it over his pained shoulder. His hand rested on the shiny, gold doorknob for a second. If he fought back, what would happen? Would he be free to do what he wanted? Would he be able to go to sleep and wake up knowing that he was safe? Or was that too much to expect? Maybe it was too late. The short teen glanced back at to where his father's door was upstairs. There was a wall in the way, but he could just imagine the burly man lying in bed, mumbling nonsense in his sleep with the covers strewn messily over his body.

A short minute passed by while the raven contemplated his future actions. Why was he still here? What was holding him back? Was there anything he could even do, or was he just helpless? It all seemed to come back to his earlier question. Was he home? His eyes travelled down to the hand that was now squeezing the doorknob in a deadly hold. He skimmed over the small, reddened lacerations crossing over his jagged knuckles. His shoulder's fell instantly and his hold softened back to normal. He'd made his choice.

Carlos finally opened the door and slammed it closed behind him as hard as he could, not even bothering to lock up afterwards. He grinned to himself before he noticed someone staring at him from just a few feet away on the sidewalk. Logan. The brunet had both hands holding onto the straps of his backpack as he gave the smaller teen a loom of confusion. All Carlos could think of was how cute he looked. He smiled genuinely at the braniac that had apparently been waiting for him before jogging up to him.

"Why di-"

Logan silenced himself immediately as he felt Carlos' smaller frame crash into his own. He recognized the gesture as a hug, but the realization didn't help him at all in figuring out what was going on. Regardless, the pale teen dropped his hands from the backpack straps and circled them around Carlos' middle tentatively. He didn't miss the way the Latino's body relaxed as he reciprocated.

"Mind telling me what's going on? Maybe why you slammed your front door like that? Or how about why we're standing in the middle of the sidewalk hugging when we should be running to school before the bell rings?"

Carlos felt his eyes watering out of nowhere, but surprisingly, he didn't hold back. Letting go was what got him this far, maybe it would aid him further. Despite himself, he chuckled into the toned brunet's chest. Logan would always be Logan. He finally let go of the taller male and stood back a foot. His gaze was directed to the area between his feet for a second before he forced it back up to meet the brunet's curious gaze. God, he was beautiful.

"I just…I've made a few decisions."

Logan raised an eyebrow at the vague answer.

"And those decision are…?"

"To do something about it."

Still confused, Logan sighed impatiently and rolled his eyes. They were definitely going to be late again. Carlos released a shaky laugh at the other's actions before going on.

"I have so much to tell you," he said.

"Right, well, you think you can tell me after we get to school?"

The Latino's lips quirked up into a small smile. This was it, he could tell. He was finally away from him. He had finally done something about it. Or at least, he was going to as soon as he told Logan. He wasn't so sure how Logan would take it, but he knew the brunet would be supportive no matter what. That's just the way Logan was. It was the reason Carlos fell for him.

He couldn't hold it back anymore. These feeling running through Carlos were just too much to control. This happiness was just too good to hold back. The Latino jumped forward resituated himself against Logan's firm chest. This time the taller teen didn't miss a beat and hugged Carlos closer to him. He rolled his eyes as he directed one of his famous crooked grins to the top of Carlos' head. Carlos shifted his gaze up and met Logan's eyes. They shared the same, caring smile. From this position, Carlos could perfectly hear and feel Logan's quick heartbeat drumming against his ear. He closed his eyes and listened closer, everything but a single word washing away from his mind. Home.

Don't forget to tell me what you thought about it. Been a while since I've written Cargan and it was great to do again. Go on, leave a review! Or chat me on Twitter saying anything you want! I'm Gohanrules1. Hope you enjoyed the story. Please review!

-Gohanrules out!