Oh my gosh! Yes! Guess who finally remembered how to use a computer and update!? Yes. It has literally taken me this long to get my butt into gear and get my laptop fixed and write a new chapter for you guys.

It's amazing! All of you have kept on reviewing and PM-ing and subscribing and everything, even though I haven't updated in forever! Shows how awesome some people are! (You know who you are…)

Wow. Okay, so here is a chapter I have been writing in random bits and pieces for about four months. It probably doesn't make sense, but, well, I tried. I have had everything, and I mean everything in the world going on in previous months, (Christmas, exams, birthdays, flooding, bushfires, babies, everything!) and to be honest, updating wasn't my main priority, and it has only settled down enough now for me to be able to update properly. I could have chucked up some half butted chapters, but I would have hated myself for doing that.

So here is, a full, completed chapter, that I am proud to say I managed to write! I really, really hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own BTR, obviously. If I did, the boys would have died from neglect by now, don't you think?

If there was one thing that Carlos hated more than being lonely, it was being sick. He had known he was sick, or at least going to get sick, all day, and he hadn't been happy about it. So when he woke up, on the couch, choking on a thermometer, he was more than unhappy. He was positively miserable. He folded his arms grumpily and spat the thermometer across the room, hearing a satisfying clunk on the hardwood floor. He heard stomping footsteps and winced. He knew he was in trouble, lots of trouble. That was the problem with Carlos. He was always in trouble. He didn't think about things. He just did what he felt, and that often, if not always, resulted in him getting himself into trouble. This was one of those occasions.

"Carlos!" Mrs. Knight tutted. He shrunk down under the thick blanket that was covering him. He was sick. He didn't want to be yelled at. He buried his head beneath the covers, in some way hoping that Mrs. Knight would forget he was there, and he would avoid a stern scolding. He could feel her glare burning through the covers. He heard her stomp away, before stomping back past him. He peeked out from his underneath his blanket, to see Mrs. Knight rinsing the thermometer under the tap. Carlos wondered what the point was. He already had the plague, what was the point in getting rid of the other germs. He couldn't possibly become sicker than he already was. Mrs. Knight padded silently back to the couch, grasping Carlos' chin and poking the thermometer underneath his tongue, silently warning him with "the look", before walking to the bathroom. Carlos heard her messing around in the medicine cabinet. He groaned. He hated having his temperature taken. As if being sick wasn't bad enough, now he had something stabbing him on the inside of his mouth. Great.

Mrs. Knight returned, with a glass of water, which was fizzing. Carlos knew what that meant.

Soluble aspirin.

Disgusting, vomit inducing soluble aspirin.

Carlos was never one who could swallow pills. Whenever he got sick, he always opted for the "liquid kind" of drugs. Preferably bubblegum flavored. But once he reached a certain age, doctors told him that it was no longer an option. They basically told him,
"That stuff is for kids. You're a big boy now," and handed him a blister pack of whatever pill it was that he needed to feel better.

Well, wasn't it an effort to get him to take them? Firstly, he had insisted that he wasn't too old to take the liquid kind, and had pleaded with Logan to talk to his "doctor friends" (who exactly they were, nobody ever knew) and get them to prescribe him some. When that didn't work, for the reasons that

a) Carlos was definitely too old for bubblegum flavored medicine, and

b) Logan hadn't a clue who these "doctor friends" were

he kicked and screamed until he didn't have a voice, and James and Kendall were holding down his flailing limbs, as Logan forcefully shoved a pill down his throat.

Yep. That didn't end well.

The trouble was, Carlos could literally not swallow pills, of any sort. This confused everybody, as he managed to be able to swallow all of his food whole, at any given time. Unless it was that time where his sandwich happened to have a pill hidden in it. He had once swallowed four marbles no trouble, which required a trip to the ER to remove, but one tiny pill made him cough and gag until he promptly threw up on Logan's hand.

The only way he could manage to keep one, tiny pill down, was with about four cookies. So every time Carlos required any kind of pill, or antibiotic course, it was off to the store for fifteen boxes of cookies, which would undoubtedly cause him to be hyperactive and kind of ruin the effects of the medication anyway.

They usually tried to avoid him having to take medication of any sort, but when necessary, they tried to find whatever he needed in liquid or soluble form. It wasn't easy to find, and would usually result in Logan driving all over town to find it, but whatever it took.

This wasn't much better for Carlos, as it took a lot longer to take, and tasted horrible, but anything was better than pills for him, even if it wasn't much better. There was still a lot of gagging involved, but he could at least keep it down.

He took the thermometer out of his mouth. Mrs. Knight read it and frowned, walking away silently. Carlos studied the glass, the floating white specks disgusting him more than he already had been at the sight of it. He decided to just attack it and swallow it.

He tried to knock it back like a shot. That didn't work, as he suspected it wouldn't, as it was a full sized glass, and not a shot glass, and he ended up drooling it all over himself. Mrs. Knight rolled her eyes and took the glass from him, walking it to the sink and taking him some paper towel. He mopped himself up, grinning at her. She cracked a false smile. She was in a strange mood. He could understand why. Taking care of four sick boys could definitely take its toll on somebody, especially when those boys were hard to manage as it was.

Carlos was feeling terrible. Maybe if he had have tried harder, he wouldn't have gotten sick, and he could at least help Mrs. Knight out a little, you know, he could have taken care of the boys, or run some errands, or even just kept out of her hair. But now she had one extra person to care for. Carlos watched Mrs. Knight walk over to him, and he gazed up at her with his large, chocolate eyes.

"I'm sorry." He coughed. She glanced down at him, touching his forehead.

"For what?" she asked bitterly. Carlos flinched at her tone.

"For… you know, getting all sick and stuff… maybe if I hadn't have gotten sick then you wouldn't be so tired and you'd feel better." He whimpered. Mrs. Knights face softened, and she sat beside Carlos' legs, rubbing circles on his back gently.

"No, no sweetie, it isn't your fault at all. Oh I'm so sorry. You poor thing. It isn't your fault that I'm tired and it certainly isn't your fault that you're sick. I'm fine, I was just up all night last night, and all day too." She said. He frowned.

"Why don't you take a nap. I'm going to." He offered. She mulled it over for a second, all her mothering instincts going out the window as she accepted.

"Yeah. You know what, I think I will." She said, sitting down on the other side of the L shaped sofa. Carlos tossed her a pillow, and she curled up, asleep in seconds. Carlos rolled over to face the back of the couch, drifting off.

There was peace, as everyone in the apartment slept. Not a noise could be heard, except for the faint snores and creaking of bedsprings from the four band mates.

The peace was short lived, however, as Carlos woke up with a terrible stomach ache. He managed to prop himself up into a sitting position, clutching his aching stomach. He doubled over, as a surge of nausea hit him like a train. He groaned and nudged Mrs. Knight with his foot, in hopes she would wake up and take notice that he wasn't feeling good, and, well, Carlos didn't know exactly what would happen after that; but maybe she would be able to fix it. She was good at fixing it when he was hurt, or hungry, so maybe it would be the same when he was sick.

But, Mrs. Knight hadn't slept for quite some time, and her body had completely shut off. She wouldn't wake, no matter how much foot nudging Carlos tried. He whimpered as he tasted acid in the back of his throat. He leapt up from his curled position on the couch and dashed through the kitchen, bursting through the bathroom door and, collapsing on the tile next to the toilet.

He lifted the lid and retched. He was cold. Why did he feel so cold? He began shaking, and gagging. He heard somebody padding towards the bathroom. Thank goodness.

Carlos always hated throwing up. Nobody liked it, he supposed. He hated getting sick, full stop, but going through it alone wasn't something he wanted to do. He began to cry, gagging over the toilet, as he heard footsteps entering the bathroom. He heard a scratchy voice whisper

"Carlos?" and a dry cough, followed by a sniff. He looked around, and through teary eyes, he saw a short, raven haired boy, clutching a blanket. He wanted to say something, but his stomach stopped him, as he turned back to the toilet and retched.

Logan knelt beside him. He was shocked to see Carlos so poorly.

"Carlos is sick now? What? When did Carlos get sick? Is James okay? Oh god. Why did I have to get sick? This is all my fault…" Logan muttered. He unfolded the blanket, placing it over Carlos' shaking shoulders, smoothing it over his back. Carlos whimpered gratefully.

"It's okay buddy." Logan whispered, rubbing circles on his back. Carlos retched again. Logan reached around and placed his hand on Carlos' forehead, wincing at the heat. He firmly pressed and held his hand there, supporting under his head, so that he didn't hit it on anything. He had noticed that Carlos was retching particularly violently, and he didn't want him to hurt himself any more than he already probably was. He continued rubbing circles on his back, through the blanket, with his other hand.

"Come on 'Litos. Just let it come up. You'll feel better." Logan whispered. Carlos retched one last time, and vomited violently into the toilet. Logan grimaced, doing his best to keep everything down himself. He would have liked to have left right then, Carlos being sick causing him to feel worse, but he couldn't leave his friend. He knew Carlos was grateful for him, and he wanted to be there for him.

Carlos vomited again, resting over the toilet for a moment, before dropping back against the bathtub. He gazed up at Logan, his eyes glassy with a fever. Logan removed his hand for Carlos' forehead, frowning and turning on his knees to retrieve a washcloth. He dampened it, and helped his friend get cleaned up.

"You alright, Carlos?" he asked. Carlos nodded weakly.

"I… think so…" he whispered.

"Oh 'Litos." Logan sighed. He pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back. He heard Carlos whimper, and let go. He stared at him, a thousand things running through his mind. Why was Carlos sick? Carlos barely ever got sick? Why did he have to get Carlos sick? He got everyone sick. Was James sick? Was everyone going to be okay? Oh, this was all his fault, he thought. He displayed his concern with a simple forehead touch, sighing in distress at the warmth of Carlos' forehead.

He was stressing out about everyone now. It wasn't enough that he should be sick, now they were all sick, and it was all Logan's fault. He was the one that was supposed to keep his friends safe and take care of them, and now he had gone and gotten them all sick. He frowned at Carlos, touching his forehead again.

"You done buddy?" Logan asked. Carlos shook his head, wrapping his arms around his aching stomach and whimpering, shaking.

"My tummy hurts, Logie." Carlos whispered.

"I know it does buddy." Logan sighed, leaning back against the bathtub beside Carlos, wrapping his arm around him. Carlos shook violently, leaning back over the toilet and coughing. Logan raised himself to his knees, wriggling over to where Carlos was, rubbing his back.

All that either of them wanted to do was fall asleep, but while Carlos was vomiting, he couldn't, and Logan definitely wasn't going to leave him. He would sit in that bathroom with him, all day and all night; whatever it took to make sure he was alright.

Well, did it make sense? Did you enjoy it? Am I asking random questions again? Yes. Yes I am.

I really, really hoped you enjoyed that chapter. I tried really hard to pick up where I left off, even though I basically had to read the entire story again to figure out what I was meant to be writing about. I didn't realize how much I had actually written! Wow, I amaze myself sometimes. Wow, that sounded conceited.

I am devastated to announce, that I will have to end this story soon. It's getting super long and hard to write, and I love this story so much I don't want to part with it! It's definitely my favorite thing I have ever written, and also, I suck at endings! Like, absolutely suck. Most of my other fics just, don't end because I can't be bothered thinking up and ending…

But anyway, yes, a few more chapters and this story will be done with… NOO! But don't worry. I will be writing new stories, taking BTR requests and generally keeping more up to date in the future. I hope.

Thank you too all my lovely reviewers and the people I have become friends with over the time this story has run! Also, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Australia Day, and for everyone this year, Happy Birthday!
Please let me know how I did with a review! All are appreciated and it will probably motivate me to update sooner if I get some ideas on future chapters, stories, or especially any ending ideas.

Thanks again! XX