Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush.


Logan's pulse accelerated. It felt like there was a small boulder lodged in his windpipe. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of his captor. He couldn't see how anything remotely good could come out of this.

"I was just uh…opening the window. The smell of blood in here is…um…a little much…" Logan answered nervously.

However, based on the look on Trevor's face, he was far from convinced. His eyes darkened, and Logan could see the rage bubbling to the surface.

"Do you take me for a fool? You were trying to escape, weren't you? Tsk, tsk. Lucas, why would you go and do something stupid like that?" Trevor asked.

Logan's heart was pounding against his chest so viciously that Logan feared it might break through any second now. He was trying to think on his feet, but that feat was remarkably difficult when he was overcome by fear.

"Of c-course I w-wasn't! Y-you're my b-big b-brother! W-why w-would I w-wanna l-leave y-you?" Logan stuttered.

Apparently, he just couldn't win though. Even though he had been trying to take his cues from Trevor, evidently, he had just said the wrong thing. Trevor angrily snatched Logan's ankle in an iron-clad grasp.

"Are you mocking me?" Logan's captor screamed.

Logan's eyes filled with tears. He was trembling severely. He didn't want to avert his gaze, but at the same time, he was afraid of what he might find if he looked Trevor in his eyes, so he looked elsewhere anyways.

Before Logan could so much as answer, Trevor gave one violent tug, and Logan was yanked off his feet, his head snapping back after his jaw came into contact with the back of the chair. Immediately, Logan could taste blood in his mouth. He coughed, misting the cement beneath him with a spray of blood. One of his teeth came out as well.

Logan groaned as he was on all fours. Unfortunately, this left his ribcage exposed, which Trevor took full advantage of, punting him in the ribs like they were some sort of football, and he was trying to kick a field goal. Logan instantly clutched his latest injury, hissing in pain.

"You leave me no choice. You must be punished," Trevor stated.

Punished? What do you call getting a tooth knocked out? What do you call having a potentially dislocated jaw? What do you call getting kicked in the ribs? If all that didn't qualify as punishment, Logan feared what would.


"Carlos, slow down!" Officer Garcia said.

Carlos had called his father after his unsuccessful 911 call. He had rushed through explaining Logan's dire situation. Now that he had though, he was out of breath. He blinked back the tears that threatened to pour from his eyes. In these types of situations, people would say things like Logan was tough; Logan was a fighter. But he wasn't. At all. And the worst part was there was no telling what the sick freak that took Logan was doing to him.

"Logan's missing, Papi! His car and cell phone were abandoned! The keys were still in the ignition! I tried calling 911, but they said they can't do anything until he's been missing for 24 hours, but what if by then it's too late? Who would do this to Logan? What do they want with him? What are they going to do to him?" Carlos speed-talked.

James draped an arm over Carlos' shoulder, pulling him close. Carlos welcomed the closeness, yet it only reminded him that one of his best friends was missing.

The only thing Officer Garcia got from the jumbled mess was that something bad had happened to Logan; he was missing. It made no sense to him whatsoever. Logan was a good kid. Who could possibly wish ill will upon him?

Kendall had clambered into the driver's side of his mom's rental car. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the blood seeping from them turning a pinkish color. Fresh, hot tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He was shaking with unbridled anger and frustration.

"Please help me, Papi! Please help Logan! If not as a police officer, then as my dad!" Carlos pleaded, his voice breaking.

"I'm gonna get the next flight out of Minnesota. Until I get there, do not touch anything of Logan's, do you hear me? If whoever took Logan touched them, then their fingerprints should be on Logan's belongings," Officer Garcia said.

"But what are we supposed to do until you get here? Nothing? How can we do nothing when Logan's missing?"

Carlos felt so useless. Surely, there was something more they could be doing other then sitting around waiting for his father to show up. But the question was what? They didn't even have a solid lead yet. Logan could literally be anywhere…if he was even still alive…Carlos wrapped his arms around himself at the sobering thought.

"It's just an idea, but you could spread the word that Logan's missing. Maybe print out some flyers to put up around town. You could get the word out on the internet through Scuttlebutter and such. Just because the L.A.P.D. aren't willing to listen doesn't mean others won't," Officer Garcia said, his resentment of the lax attitude of his fellow men and women in uniform evident in his voice.


Logan was being dragged by his forearm to what looked like a kitchen. There were various kitchen appliances in the room: a dishwasher, a refrigerator and freezer, and a gas range. The latter was what Logan realized with horror he was being taken to. He struggled in vain to get Trevor to let go of his forearm, now knowing what was coming.

"No! Let me go! Please, don't!" Logan cried out in a pathetically small voice.

"I think not. You need to be taught a lesson, little bro!" Trevor replied, with a sinister smirk.

Logan knew that his only saving grace would be to get Trevor to flip his switch. If only he could get Trevor to be his caring, compassionate self rather than his cruel, sadistic self.

"What do you think Father would say?" Logan asked.

"How quickly you forget that our dear old dad is six feet under because I killed him! So you see, Lucas, Daddy can't say anything! He can't save you! No one can!" Trevor replied.

The pilot was turned on, accompanied by rhythmic clicking as the range was turned on. Soon various hues of orange, red, yellow, and blue encompassed the one burner as it was set ablaze.

Logan tugged and tugged with all his might as he was literally being dragged ever closer to what was soon to be his torture device. His vision was compromised by a haze of tears. At that moment, he didn't think about his injured ribs, the gash on his torso, his slit wrists, his possibly dislocated jaw, his missing fingernail, or his missing tooth. All he could think about was what was about to happen.

The only thing Logan could do was clench his hand into a fist, reducing the surface area that would soon be scorched. This didn't deter Trevor in the slightest. He just stuck Logan's fist into the flame instead. Logan's anguished screams bounced off the walls.

The smell of burning flesh filled the kitchen. The skin on Logan's hand bubbled as it quickly blistered. The seconds that ticked by were agonizingly long. Logan wondered how much longer his hand would be held over the open flame.

Then, mercifully, Logan's hand was removed from the fire, and the burner was turned off. Logan fell to his knees on the kitchen floor, holding his hand against his chest, cradling it. He slid on the floor away from his tormentor. Logan had never been more afraid of anything in his young life than he was afraid of Trevor right now.


Mrs. Knight was faced with the unenviable task of informing one Joanna Mitchell that her only son had been kidnapped. How does one break such tragic news to one of their best friends? The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.

"Hello?" Joanna answered.

"Hi, Joanna. It's Jen," Mrs. Knight responded.

"Jen! It's so good to hear from you! How are things?"

Mrs. Knight sighed. Joanna sounded so happy too. How could she just go and ruin her happiness? What kind of friend did that make her? But she deserved to know, didn't she? If roles were reversed, and it had been Kendall that was kidnapped, Jennifer would want Joanna to tell her. Mrs. Knight took a deep breath, mustering up her courage.

"There's no easy way to say this, but Logan's been kidnapped," Kendall and Katie's mom said, getting straight to the point.

For a good deal of time, there was nothing but silence on the other end. Mrs. Knight wished Joanna would say something, anything if for no other reason than to know that she was still there. Jennifer couldn't even imagine how Logan's mom was feeling right about now.

Joanna wanted to hold someone responsible, and as easy as it would be to blame Jennifer, Logan's guardian while they lived in L.A., she somehow knew that it wouldn't be fair to blame her. Besides, she was one of her best friends. They had been through too much together to let something like this come between them.

"H-how? W-when? W-why?" Logan's mother stammered.

"I'm so sorry! He called me on his way back from his tutoring job yesterday. Only when I answered, he wasn't on the other end," Jennifer answered.

"Y-yesterday? Th-this h-happened y-yesterday, and y-you're only n-now t-telling m-me?"

"Joanna, I was going to tell you, I just didn't…hello? Joanna? Are you there?"

But Logan's mom had already hung up on Kendall's mom. Jennifer buried her face in her hands and cried. What if this was the end of her friendship with Joanna? What if she never forgave her? What kind of a guardian was she?


Logan found himself back in the basement. He was in pain. So much pain. He just wanted it all to stop. He just wanted to die so he wouldn't have to suffer anymore. Then the faces of Carlos, Kendall, and James flashed through his mind. It was then that he vowed to himself that no matter how bad it got, he would hold on for them. He would see them again one day. Hopefully that would give him all the strength he needed.

"Lucas, that's why you shouldn't play with fire," Trevor said, his voice surprisingly sweet now.

Play with fire? You held my hand over an open flame, you sick freak! Logan didn't care how caring Trevor's voice sounded, he was terrified of him. He didn't see that changing anytime in the immediate future either.

"Here. Let me see it," Trevor stated.

Just so no further harm would come to him, Logan obliged without giving it a second thought. Trevor lowered his face to Logan's hand, his chapped lips feeling like rough sandpaper as they kissed seemingly every square inch of Logan's blistered, burnt hand.

"Feel better?" Trevor asked.

Logan nodded his head, lying. The truth of the matter was getting his blisters kissed did zero, zip, zilch, nada. Somehow though, Logan figured that wasn't the answer Trevor wanted to hear.

"You know, you didn't have to try and run away," Trevor said.

"I-I know. I-I w-won't d-do th-that again," Logan stammered.

Trevor shook his head. Logan was unsure if this was a good sign or a bad sign. His body tensed with anticipation. He pushed the static of pain to the back of his mind for the moment. If Trevor was going to harm him again in some way, Logan needed to be completely focused; he couldn't let something like pain distract him and make him less alert.

"No, I meant all those years ago when you walked in on me killing Father. You didn't have to run away. I would never hurt you; you're my brother; we have to stick together," Trevor commented.

Logan had an inkling to make some sarcastic remark about how untrue Trevor's last statement was. Perhaps he would show Trevor some of the injuries he inflicted on his "brother." However, with the way Logan's luck was going as of late, it would probably just make Trevor hurt him even more, and Logan wanted to avoid that as much as possible, so he said nothing.


Carlos had printed out some missing person flyers and he, James, and Kendall had been busy putting them up. Carlos was putting them up at The Palm Woods. James had gone to the Palm Woods Park. Kendall had gone into town.

Seeing Logan's face on the flyer was so surreal. Carlos still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that someone had taken Logan; that someone wished to harm Logan. It wasn't right! It wasn't fair! What could Logan possibly have done that was so bad? No, Logan probably didn't do anything wrong at all. How could he? He's Logan!

"Carlos, what is this?" a familiar voice that made Carlos' heart break asked.

He spun on his heels, coming face-to-face with none other than Camille, whose eyes were sparkling with tears. She was Logan's on-again-off-again girlfriend. Frankly, Carlos wasn't even quite sure where the two of them stood with each other. Were they back on again?

"We think Logan's been kidnapped," Carlos replied.

"No! Say it isn't so! Carlos, please!" Camille begged.

Carlos couldn't bring himself to look at Camille anymore. He didn't want to see the unadulterated sadness that mirrored the raw emotion he himself was experiencing. He hadn't wanted to be the one to tell Camille; he didn't want to be the bearer of bad news.

"It's true," Carlos responded.

"No! I won't believe it! You're wrong! You have to be! Maybe Logan just had to go somewhere and clear his head! Maybe he's perfectly fine wherever he is!" Camille exclaimed.

"Camille, Logan's car was abandoned with the keys still in the ignition. His cell phone was on the ground nearby. Logan called Mama Knight on his way back from his tutoring job, and Kendall later heard the sound of a car driving away. Logan never said anything. He…he…probably couldn't."

Camille didn't want to believe that Logan was missing. She didn't want to believe that any harm was coming to him. The only thing she wanted to believe was that Logan was on his way back to them; on his way back to her.

To Be Continued…