A/N: From the author who brought you stories such as "Big Time Disaster," "Brotherly Love," "My Best Friend Is a Vampire," "Til I Forget About You," "Big Time Sick," and "Three Little Words," comes "Doppelganger." Viewer discretion is advised as it does include Logan torture.
Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush. By the time you finish reading this story, no, once you start reading this story, you will be insanely glad about that.
Logan was driving the Big Time Rush Mobile back to The Palm Woods. Mondays through Fridays, he had a tutoring job at a community college in addition to his workload at school and his band duties. Logan was taking the back roads home in an effort to avoid the infamous L.A. traffic. Sure, that meant that he had to drive in the boonies, but it was worth it; it made the drive home much quicker.
Logan was about halfway there when he heard a popping sound that could only mean one thing; he had acquired a flat tire. He pulled off the side of the road, out of the way of the nonexistent traffic. He turned off the ignition, before clambering out of the vehicle, not even bothering with opening the door. It didn't take him long to spot the flat on the front driver's side.
"Seriously…" Logan muttered under his breath as he walked towards the trunk.
He opened the trunk, and of course with Logan being Logan, there was a spare tire inside. However, first, Logan thought it would be a good idea to call Mrs. Knight to let her know that he might be home a little late. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out his cell phone. After dialing "M" for "Mommy," on his speed dial, the phone was ringing.
Back at The Palm Woods, Mrs. Knight was in the middle of making dinner when she heard her cell ringing. She walked over to the counter where it was setting, and retrieved it. She looked at the caller ID, and saw that Logan was calling her. She didn't think much of it; After all, Logan always called her when he was on his way home or when he knew that he was going to be a little late. She answered the phone, holding it up to her ear.
"Hey Logan," Mrs. Knight greeted.
Logan heard a car pull off the side of the road behind him. He just automatically assumed that the person saw that he had a flat, and came over to lend a helping hand. However, he was soon in for a rude awakening. Before he could even answer Mama Knight, Logan felt a syringe being plunged into the delicate skin of his neck. He instantly felt himself in freefall. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back looking up at the blue sky. His cell phone was lying beside him, having fallen out of his hands.
"Hello?" Mrs. Knight said into her cell phone.
No answer. Mrs. Knight was starting to get a little worried. It wasn't like Logan to prank call people, especially her. The entire eight years she had known Logan, he had always treated her with nothing but the utmost respect. Since the boys had been out in L.A., she had become like a second mom to not only Logan, but Carlos and James as well.
"Logan? Are you there?" Mrs. Knight asked.
Still no answer. A knot had started to form in her stomach. Her maternal instincts were kicked into overdrive as she began to think of all the worst case scenarios. What if Logan was hurt? What if he was in trouble? What if he was…dying? Mrs. Knight pictured Logan trapped inside an overturned car, his face streaked with blood, twisted pieces of metal impaling him, vehicle ablaze as he desperately tried to get a hold of her. She shook her head, clearing those horrible thoughts. No, that wasn't it at all. She was merely overreacting.
Logan was barely cognizant of the fact that he was now being dragged by his ankle. Tiny pebbles dug into his dorsal side, causing him to clench his teeth in pain. He wanted to fight, to resist, to do something, but he just didn't have the energy to; his body just didn't want to cooperate with him like that.
Mrs. Knight's eyes started to pool with tears. "Logan, sweetie, you have to talk to me. What's wrong?" she asked. Once more, there was no answer. She pulled her cell back from her face so that she could get a better look at the screen. Maybe the call had accidentally been dropped or something. After looking at the screen, and seeing that the timer was still going, recording the duration of their conversation, Mrs. Knight's heart sank even more.
Carlos entered the kitchen, nose in the air, sniffing. He took a seat at one of the bar stools. "Something smells good, Mama Knight! What is it? More importantly, when will it be ready?" he asked. That's when he noticed that Mrs. Knight was crying. "Hey, what's the matter?"
The word "Logan" seemed to be stuck in her throat. Her tears fell unchecked. She wasn't sure what to do; staying on the phone only to hear more of Logan not answering her would only send her on even more of a downward spiral. However, she couldn't just hang up on Logan, could she? What if he couldn't answer now, but he could later? If that was the case, she didn't want to drop the call.
Carlos scrambled off the bar stool, and bolted towards the bedroom that Kendall and Logan shared with one another. On his way, he called out, "Kendall, something's wrong with your mom!"
The next thing Logan knew, whoever it was that was doing this to him had stuffed him inside the trunk of a car. Words percolated on the tip of his tongue as he desperately wanted to cry out in protest, but they never were able to escape his lips. Soon, the trunk was slammed shut, and he was surrounded by nothing but darkness.
Kendall came rushing into the kitchen as soon as he had heard Carlos. He was in such a hurry that he nearly bowled over Carlos who was moving equally as fast. Kendall wasn't the only one who heard Carlos though; James and Katie were right behind him.
Kendall scanned the kitchen for his mom as soon as he got there. He quickly found her frozen in terror, tears streaming down her face. Remarkably, she was somehow still managing to hold her phone against her face. Kendall was quickly at her side.
"Mom, what is it? What's wrong?" he asked, panic in his voice.
Kendall had to physically pry his mom's cell phone from her hand. He glanced at the screen to see who she was even talking to. He had been fully prepared to go off on whoever it was that was bothering his mother, but when he saw that Logan was on the other end, his pent up rage dissipated. He held the phone to his ear.
"Logan? Is everything okay, buddy?" Kendall asked.
The only thing he could hear on the other end was the sound of rubber tires on gravel. Based on how the sound grew fainter and fainter, Kendall gathered that the sound he heard was that of a car driving away.
A plethora of questions raced through Kendall's mind. Why wasn't Logan answering? Why had he called in the first place? Was he in some sort of trouble? Was he in the car that apparently was driving away? Was the car that was driving away Logan's car?
Mrs. Knight was barely aware of the fact that Katie was at her side as well, a hand resting on the small of her back. Katie wasn't much of a crier. In fact, she was remarkably emotionally tough for a girl her age. Seeing that something was apparently wrong with her mom, seeing how unreachable she was, Katie's resolve started to weaken. She blinked back the impending tears. She wouldn't allow herself to cry. She needed to stay strong for her mother.
"Mom, you're starting to scare me!" Katie remarked, grabbing her mother's arm, and shaking it.
"What's going on? What's Logan saying?" James asked frantically.
Kendall knew that this was bringing out the same protective instincts in James that it was bringing out in himself. Kendall would be surprised if the same thing couldn't be said of Carlos. Though Kendall and James were more of the protectors of the group, Carlos wasn't just going to sit by and let harm come to any of his friends either.
"He's not answering," Kendall reported.
"What do you mean he's not answering? Give me that," Carlos said as Kendall passed the phone to Carlos.
Carlos' bottom lip was quivering. He was on the verge of tears himself. Deep down, he realized that Logan couldn't possibly be playing some sick sort of joke on them, but that didn't stop Carlos from hoping that was the case anyways. Carlos found it was much easier to be angry at Logan than terrified for him.
"Okay, Logan, quit messing around! This isn't funny anymore!" Carlos reprimanded. Then, he completely broke down, and he couldn't keep up his charade any longer. "You have to be okay, Logie! You just have to!"
James took the phone out of Carlos' hands as he walked over to Carlos. The shorter boy buried his face in James' chest as he wept into the taller boy's lucky white v-neck. James held the phone to his ear now. With his other arm, James held a sobbing Carlos.
"Logie, if you're hurt or in trouble, you have to let us know. You need to tell us. We're all starting to get really worried here," James said before looking at the time on the microwave. "You should have been home fifteen minutes ago."
Just as was the case with Mrs. Knight, Kendall, and Carlos, James received no response from Logan. James knew that this wasn't some sort of practical joke. Logan wouldn't take a practical joke this far. James had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that something had gone terribly wrong.
Logan woke up to the feeling of slushy, ice cold water saturating him from head to toe. In no time at all, his teeth were chattering, and his body was shivering. Logan soon found that he was incapable of locomotion. He was quickly aware that he had been duct taped to a wooden chair; strips of the adhesive bound both his ankles and his wrists. He was held firmly in place by his restraints as duct tape around his torso kept him captive.
Logan desperately tried to remember what happened and how he ended up here. All he recalled was getting a flat tire and calling Mrs. Knight, but that was the last thing he remembered. The next thing he knew, he was getting drenched with frigid water.
"Help!" Logan cried out.
Then Logan saw who he could only assume was his kidnapper. He was a man in his late twenties, possibly early thirties. He had a somewhat pudgy build. His hair was a fiery red and pulled back into a ponytail. Freckles adorned his round face, and thick glasses framed his dark brown eyes.
"You thought you could escape me, but I found you," Logan's captor said in a deep, booming voice.
"What are you talking about? I don't even know you!" Logan replied, fear creeping into his voice.
Logan's kidnapper circled around Logan, drawing nearer with every lap. Soon, he was towering over a terrified Logan. The teenager saw that this guy was even taller than James. He could feel his captor's hot, foul-smelling breath on his face. He could see his kidnapper's yellowing teeth. Logan recoiled in disgust.
"Liar!" the kidnapper roared, slapping the boy with one of his meaty paws.
Logan's face felt like it was on fire as his head was rocked to the side. His kidnapper sure wasn't pulling any punches. Logan wanted to do nothing more but massage his newly sore cheek, but given his current predicament, he couldn't even do that.
"Do you know how long I've been looking for you? And now I've finally found you," Logan's abductor said matter-of-factly.
The Big Time Brain wasn't quite sure what to make of that last statement. Was this some obsessed stalker fan he was dealing with? Or maybe this guy was some sort of pedophile. A chill traveled up and down Logan's spine as he wondered what his kidnapper would do with him now that he found him.
"Please let me go! People are probably worried sick about me. Whatever I did to upset you, I really am sorry!" Logan said.
Logan's thoughts drifted to his best friends: Kendall, Carlos, and James. Did they know he was missing? Were they looking for him? Were they worried about him? Would he ever see them again? Logan's eyes started to get moist at the prospect of never seeing them again. What if they never found him? Or what if by the time they found him it was too late?
His kidnapper saw that he was crying, and scoffed obnoxiously.
"I see you're still a baby! You're pathetic!" Logan's abductor spat, saliva misting the teenager in the face.
There it was again. Still? Why was this guy acting like he has known him for quite some time? Logan could've sworn that he had never seen this guy before in his life. The worst part was, Logan couldn't even wipe the spit off his face. All he could do was let it slowly trickle down.
"You don't even remember what you did to me! Unbelievable! I've been on the run for the last decade because of you!" Logan's captor said menacingly.
Logan blinked his eyes in confusion. Whoever this guy was, he claimed to have known Logan for ten years, but that would mean he has known Logan since he was what, six or seven years old? That would have been before Logan even moved to Minnesota and met Kendall, Carlos, and James. He still didn't look familiar though.
"What do you have all over your face? We better get you cleaned up before Father sees you like this," the kidnapper said, his tone of voice suddenly gentle.
He pulled out a tissue and started to wipe the spit off Logan's face, the teenager flinching from the contact. There was something different about his kidnapper. Not only was his voice kinder, but even his touch was tender.
Confused couldn't even begin to describe how Logan felt about his kidnapper. As weird as it sounded, it was almost like he was dealing with two entirely different people: one bitter, vindictive, and hell bent on revenge and the other kind, gentle, and caring. The only problem was that Logan never knew which one he would be dealing with.
"Everything's gonna be okay. Your brother's here now," Logan's kidnapper said.
Logan's blood ran cold. This guy was delusional, not to mention a nutcase. Logan didn't have any siblings, least of all a brother. Didn't this guy realize that he was the one who kidnapped him and tied him up in the first place?
"You're not my brother! I don't even have a brother!" Logan commented.
He quickly realized the error of his ways. There was a sudden shift in his kidnapper's demeanor. His posture suddenly became stiff and rigid. His eyes were ablaze with fury. He unleashed a withering gaze at Logan that had him cowering in fear.
"You would think that, wouldn't you, Lucas?" his captor remarked. "Why is it that you get everything, and I get nothing? You're the one with the good looks! You're the one with the brains! You're Father's favorite! What about me?"
The next thing Logan knew, he was toppling backwards, his kidnapper upending the chair he was sitting in. Logan could do nothing but brace himself for the inevitable impact. He couldn't even break his fall. The back of his skull collided with the cement floor with a jarring impact. Logan noticed a warm stickiness seem to emanate from the back of his head.
"I got rid of our old man, so don't think for one second that I can't get rid of you too!" the kidnapper threatened.
Logan gulped nervously. His vision was blurred around the edges. His head was throbbing, and no doubt bleeding from the fall. His clothes were sopping wet, and he was still shivering. Once more, he thought of his best friends.
"Please find me, you guys! I need you! I'm scared!" Logan uttered in a voice marginally louder than a whisper.
To Be Continued…