Title: Behind Closed Doors
Chapter 1
Word Count: 1,375
Rating: T, Possibly M later on

Pairings: Eventual James/Carlos, otherwise general.

Disclaimer: As much as I would like to, I do not own these boys… The only thing I own is the plot line and whatever OC's come up. This makes me sad, but oh well!

Warnings: Abuse, implied rape, self-harm
Summary: AU His friends only saw the happy, peppy, playfully crazy him. They never saw the broken, pained, dying him. He wouldn't, couldn't let them. They couldn't know what happened behind closed doors.
Author's Note: I have no idea where this came from, but it did, and I decided to actually act on it… Which, well, never happens. This is my first story, so I'm sorry if it sucks. Anyway, reviews would be great. I'm prepared for anything, even flames *pats helmet*. So yeah. :) R&R please. It's highly appreciated! So here I go with the first chapter!

Have a great day!


A four-year-old Carlos Garcia sits huddled in the corner of his room with his two-year-old brother, Mateo, in a desperate attempt to hide from their furious father. He Is on a rampage because Carlos' mother had not cooked dinner, too busy handling the two boys and the newborn baby girl, Belicia, to do it. Carlos could hear the baby crying from the room over, his father screaming at his mother, and his mother's screams of pain and fear. He put his hands over Mateo's ears, not wanting him to hear any of this. He can tell his father is hitting his mommy, and it's terrifying.

His mother's screams get louder and Carlos pushes his tiny hands harder onto his little brother's ears, hurting the smaller boy. Carlos' eyes well up with tears when he hears his mommy go quiet, suddenly. And the next thing he hears is his father stomp down the hall into the room right next to his, and his father starts screaming at the crying baby. Carlos doesn't know what's happening, but the baby sounds like she is coughing or not being able to breathe. Carlos holds his breath. His father is still screaming as the baby goes quiet. The tears spill over and, though he is not quite sure what, he knows something is really wrong with the baby. She almost never stops crying.

Carlos holds his brother tighter as his father stomps past their room, silently praying that he doesn't do anything to them. It seems God has answered his prayers when his father lets out a frustrated growl and goes into his room, slamming the door behind him. Carlos quietly lets out the breath he had been holding for what seemed like forever and drops his hands from his brother's ears. The bigger boy holds a finger up to his mouth, telling the younger to remain quiet before he crawls to the door.

He looks at his father's closed door before quickly making his way to the nursery. He quietly pushes open the door and goes in. The baby is lying in the crib, unmoving. Carlos stands up and runs silently to the baby. She is quiet and still. Carlos can't see any rise or fall in the tiny chest. More tears slip from his eyes as he makes a horrible realization for a four-year-old. The small baby that had been born just recently was dead. He falls to the floor, silently sobbing at the sight. He wipes off his eyes and crawls back to the door.

Taking one last glance at the small child, he crawls out of the room and into the hallway. He decides to check on his mommy, quickly, before going back to little Mateo.

He speedily goes to the living room, where he sees his mother lying on the floor. Her right arm is bent at an awkward angle and she is bloody, extremely. She's bruising all over her body very quickly, the deep purple color all over her face and arms. Carlos lets out a sigh of relief when he sees her chest rise up slowly. She is at least alive. He crawls over to her and hurriedly kisses her cheek before speeding back to his room.

Mateo hadn't moved an inch; he still sat cuddled in the corner of the room. Carlos ran over to his brother and wrapped his arms around him. "What wong, Cawwos?" The little boy asked his brother, noticing the tears on his face.

Carlos squeezed his brother and avoided the question. "I wuv you, bwothah." He whispered into the smaller's hair. There they sat until finally falling asleep on the floor.

Sixteen-year-old Carlos Garcia ran a comb through his hair before slipping on his helmet. He quickly checked himself in the mirror. His arms and legs were completely covered, his face had enough foundation on, no one would be able to tell anything. He practiced his smile again and then his laugh. He checked his bag for his extra foundation, his just-in-case cover-up. He did this all as quietly as he could, even in knowing his father had already left for the station, out of habit.

He quickly checked his bag, making sure he had everything he needed. "Carlos, you ready?" The boy jumped slightly at the sudden voice. He looked up to see Mateo leaning against the beige wall of their small apartment in Jackson, Minnesota.

"Yeah, as ready as I can be. Did you make lunches?" His brother nodded, holding up two brown bags. "Okay, let's go." Carlos tossed the comb into his bag, before slinging them into his pocket. He grabbed is apartment key and phone as he walked to the door. He locked the door behind them and began the twenty minute walk to the Jackson Senior High School. Carlos was a junior, Mateo a freshman.

Mateo was big, towering over his older brother a good foot and a half. His hair was much like Carlos', dark and straight. It clung to his tan face and hung to his chocolate eyes. Carlos never understood why he refused to cut it, but didn't argue much with his brother about it. He fought enough with his father.

The pair walked in utter silence. One would occasionally look at the other, as if to make sure they were still there. When they reached the school the nodded a good-bye to each other and went their separate ways. Mateo to his ever so wonderful druggie friends and Carlos of to his friends on the hockey team.

"Yo, Carlitos!" One of his best friends, James Diamond, hollered upon seeing him, waving subtlety. The two he was talking to, Carlos' other two best friends, Logan Mitchell and Kendall Knight, turned to face him. They waved and quickly made space for him inside their circle.

"Hey guys, what's up?" Carlos asked as he set his bag down.

"Oh, the usual. Logan is freaking out about some test he has in AP Calculus. James is freaking out about his hair, worrying that a certain someone won't like it. Don't ask, he won't tell. And I'm trying to calm them both down. What about you, buddy?" Kendall said, calmly.

Carlos laughed. "Just running late, as always. Mateo took forever this morning." He lied smoothly, they didn't need to know why he was actually late. "I really don't understand how he can. It takes him five minutes to get ready. But, no. That boy refuses to get up in the morning." The boys laughed and Carlos smiled at them.

"You boys excited for the game tonight?" Someone said suddenly from behind Carlos. He jumped slightly, earning him a few confused looks. "Sorry, dude." The guy stepped beside him. It was the team goalie, Dak Zevon.

Carlos nodded, and remained calm. At least on the outside, for on the inside, he was going crazy. How could he have forgot about their game? They had been talking about it all week during practice. It was away, he wouldn't be home until eleven. It was one of the biggest games of the season, deciding whether or not they would go to play-offs. It was his night to make dinner. There would be hell to pay when he got home. "I totally forgot about the game! My dad's going to kill me!" Possibly literally, he thought to himself.

"I'm sure he'll understand," James told him, patting him on the shoulder. "I mean, it's hockey. What could be more important?" Let's see. Making his food, cleaning up after him, keeping Mateo safe.

"Yeah, of course. Hockey, no big deal. Dad'll understand…" He said, more trying to convince himself of that than anything else. His friends smiled at him and made a couple of jokes before the first bell rang. They did a quick high-five with everyone before heading off in their different directions.

The whole way to his first period history class, Carlos let his face slip into the fright he now felt. His father would never understand, his father cared so much more about himself and his needs. Carlos nervously pulled at his helmet straps as he sat through history, not really paying attention. Much more worried about his situation when he were to get home tonight.

So? Great? Good? Bad? Terrible? Just let me know! Reviews would be great! Thanks for reading. I'll try and get another chapter up soon, if y'all like it. Like I said, just let me know. I'm sorry if that was horrid, but oh well. Have a good day ev'ryone! Peace!:)