A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back with another little one-shot. I recently watched Four Brothers and I got inspired to do a little one-shot. So here it is! Give it a read and tell me what you think! Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: Own Four Brothers I do not.

Summertime Blues:

…

Sometimes I wonder what I'ma gonna do but there ain't no cure for the summertime blues.

…

"Devon….you are NOT the father."

The loud-mouthed black lady on the TV jumped to her feet in a huff, knocking her chair over and startling Maury. She was screaming her brains out now and jumping up and down on the stage like an idiot. The man—one assumes to be Devon—was smiling and making "I told you so" faces to the audience. Thankfully the show went to commercial.

But Jack was hardly paying attention anyway. He heard the voices droning on and on but his attention was elsewhere for the moment. He was slouched low on the couch, one leg pulled underneath him and the other resting on the coffee table. He hadn't bothered to change into his clothes that morning. Why would he? Where the hell did he have to go? It was his third week sitting at home like a loser with no life. So there he was, sitting on the couch in a t-shirt and boxer shorts playing with his black Zippo lighter. He stared intently into the flame and was mesmerized. He flicked it open and closed, watching the flame come up and disappear and then come up again.

To put it in the simplest terms—he was bored. Ever since school let out three weeks ago he had absolutely nothing to do but lie around on the couch and watch television. That or sleep away most of the day. His friends weren't available, his mother worked all day and sometimes nights, Angel was in the marines and Jerry was enjoying wedded bliss with his new wife. Not that he would have much to do with them anyway—they were adults with their own lives. And then of course there was Bobby. But who knew where he was these days?

Bobby was off being—Bobby. That's the best Jack could describe it. Who the hell knew what his brother did when he was gone (which was basically seven or eight months out of the year). He was most likely playing hockey and knocking out someone's teeth or sitting in the office of the bar that he owned. Jack had only been to the place once—in the summer when he, Angel and Jerry decided to visit Bobby—and the place didn't really make that much of an impression on him. They didn't even have live music for Christ's sake! Jack scoffed when he thought of Bobby and what he would say if he saw Jack at that moment.

Oh yeah, he could hear Bobby's voice in his head; clear as day. Bobby would yell at him for being lazy and tell him to go and do something productive with his life. Never mind that Bobby could be just as lazy as him or even lazier, as a matter of fact. Bobby was the typical older brother of course and no doubt used his 'rank' to get his points across. But Bobby wasn't here, right? He was living his life and he wouldn't be able to boss Jack around and force him to get up and do something. Right?

Wrong.

"Look at this lazy little shit!"

Jack had fallen asleep sometime after the white woman on Maury insisting her black ex-boyfriend was the father of her red-headed children and his lighter running out of lighter fluid. He was having a weird dream about being on Maury when he became aware of someone standing over him. When he heard the voice he woke up completely and his eyes snapped open. He jumped nearly out of his skin when he saw his older brother's face looking down at him, his mouth twisted in a smirk but his face full of disapproval. Jack groaned and sat up straighter. He lifted his arm to block the sunlight that was coming from the open curtains. Bobby must have opened them when he came in. Then confusion took over and Jack squinted up at his brother. What the hell was he doing home?

"Bobby?" He ran a hand through his hair and yawned. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I decided to drop in," Bobby said. He flicked his hand at Jack until he got the message and moved over to make room for Bobby to sit down. He looked around the room with a half-disgusted look. "Where the fuck do you think you live in, a barn?"

Jack's expression turned sheepish when he noticed the state of the family room. Coke cans littered the table and an empty pizza box rested on the easy chair. "I was gonna clean it up before Mom got home," he said defensively. Then he just sighed and shook his head. "Don't start in on me now, man."

"Fuck," Bobby said as he rose from the couch. He headed for the kitchen and Jack heard the familiar sounds of the fridge opening followed by the cap being popped off a can of bear. Bobby continued to talk, yelling from the kitchen. "Kid, you're fucking pathetic!"

"I'm not pathetic!" Jack said. "I'm just bored, Bobby."

"Bored is another word for lazy," Bobby said as he walked back into the room, beer in hand. He already gulped down half of the can's contents.

Here we go, Jack thought to himself. He knew this would happen if Bobby was home. Sure enough it took him less than five minutes from when he walked in the door to start. It was definitely a personal record for him.

"What do you want from me?" Jack asked dryly. His lack of something to do left him tired and despite it being early afternoon he wanted to take a nap.

"I'll tell you what I fucking want," Bobby said, pushing Jack's leg off of the coffee table. He ignored Jack's insult and pointed a finger at him. "I'm going upstairs to take a shower and when I'm done I want this fucking mess cleaned up and you to be ready to go."

"Ready?" Jack echoed, looking at his brother incredulously. "Where the fuck are we going?"

"Just be fucking ready," Bobby said and left, grabbing his duffel bag and disappearing upstairs.

"Great."

Jack sank back into the couch and scowled. The irony of the whole situation wasn't lost on him. Bobby, the man who played hockey in the house, was messier than him and who makes his brothers do everything for him because he's too damn lazy wanted him to clean up and be ready so they could do something productive—whatever the hell that may be. But what would complaining accomplish? At least he'd get out of the house and go somewhere that wasn't the couch or his bed. Still—Bobby was so fucking annoying!

Jack forced himself to get up off the couch and began to pick up the Coke cans while muttering a few choice phrases under his breath. He could only imagine where Bobby would take him.

…

Jack heaved a great sigh and it felt like his chest was gonna crack down the middle. Fine, maybe he was being a little dramatic but he didn't want to leave the house! He was perfectly happy lying on the couch and doing nothing all day. He thought about that a moment and then shook his head. So that was a lie; he wasn't happy living in a state of perpetual boredom. But Bobby just had to come home and annoy him and force him to move. So he was going to stick by his first thought-he was perfectly happy doing nothing.

He took a slow drag on his cigarette and exhaled even slower, letting the smoke curl around him until he was in a sort of smoke-filled haze. Bobby appeared behind him on the doorstep as he was taking the last drag. He threw the cigarette down, ground it with the toe of his Converse shoe and looked up at his brother with a slight scowl on his face.

Bobby smiled at him like he had smiled first. "Ready to go, princess?"

Jack groaned in protest but he stood up and followed his brother to the car. When they were inside and Bobby had begun driving, Jack turned to him.

"Where the hell are we going?" he asked. He felt like he was asking the same question ever since Bobby woke him up. And each time it went unanswered made him increasingly nervous.

"Out," Bobby said, turning right at the end of their street. He still had the same smirk on his face from before and Jack wanted to smack it off of him.

"Where?" Jack pressed. He wasn't going to put up with Bobby's bullshit now. "It's summer, the hockey rink is closed."

"Is that all you think I do?" Bobby asked. "Play fuckin' hockey?"

"It is all you do."

Bobby lived for hockey; he played it all the goddamn time! Every winter he'd drag him and his brothers to the hockey rink to play and as he put it "show some of those pansy-ass, sorry excuse for men some fuckin' skill!" So yeah, all Bobby did was play hockey. More often than not he had no one to play with so he dragged his three brothers along for the ride. More so now that they kicked Bobby out of the league all together.

"Maybe," Bobby said with a shrug. He gave Jack's shoulder a slight push. "Now shut up and don't worry about where we're going." He smirked. "Or I'll mess up your pretty hair."

Jack rolled his eyes and turned to look out of the window. He sighed as they passed his high school. It was empty now that it was summertime. The old brown building looked deserted and kind of scary with its rusted gates, fragile windows and a football field with grass so dry that it was brown and looked more like mud. For half a second he wished he was in school. At least he'd have something to do; no matter how much he hated it.

Five minutes later Bobby pulled into a place that Jack recognized instantly. After all, Bobby had been going there for as long as Jack could remember.

"Johnny's bar?" Jack asked dryly, his eye-brows raised. He unbuckled his seatbelt but didn't move.

"I want a drink," was Bobby's reply. He exited the car without looking back and Jack had no choice but to follow him.

"Bobby, do we fucking have to-"

"Stop fuckin' whining, Jackie," Bobby cut him off. "Or I'm gettin' you apple juice!"

With an exaggerated eye roll Jack followed Bobby inside. He was 17 and nowhere near the state's legal drinking age but Johnny, the bar's owner, never cared when he came into the bar. He even poured Jack's drinks personally sometimes. The perks of being a Mercer!

"Okay," Jack said after they were sitting at the bar with their beers in front of them. "Now what?"

"I'm disappointed in you, Jack," Bobby said, quickly draining his first beer. He signalled the waitress to give him another. "You gotta learn to relax and appreciate the beauty of things.

"Right," Jack said sarcastically. There was so much beauty in watching his brother drink and leer at girls to appreciate!

"Better than staying at home isn't it?" Bobby asked. The waitress brought him his second beer and he happily drank it.

"I like staying home."

"'Course you fucking do!" Bobby muttered with a shake of his head. "Where are your friends?"

"Away."

"Get a job!"

"Don't want to."

"Find a boyfriend to play with."

Jack glared at him. "Fuck off." He finished the contents of his own beer bottle and sighed.

"Well don't get too comfortable, princess," Bobby said. He stood and put his money down on the bar. "Pay the bartender. I'm goin' to the bathroom and then you're coming with me to the store."

Bobby didn't give Jack a chance to protest. He turned and headed for the bathroom. And it was then, in the middle of groaning, that Jack came up with an idea that made him smile. So Bobby wanted to drag him all around town did he? Jack was going to do just that.

He didn't have much time. He grabbed Bobby's wallet, hopped off of the bar stool and headed for the door, quickly sending Bobby a text as he did.

'Better come find me before I max out your credit card.'

When he got outside he ran around to the side of the building. He was covered enough so that Bobby wouldn't see him but he was in full view of the car. A minute or so later Bobby angrily came out of the bar and did a quick look around. He shook his head and got into the car, slamming the door harshly. Bobby fumbled with his phone for a second and almost instantly Jack received a message.

'You're fucking dead.'

Jack suppressed a laugh and watched as Bobby pulled out of his parking spot and took off down the street. As Jack saw it he had two options: Stay at the bar for an hour or so and then tell Bobby where he was or he could purposely lead Bobby all around town, have his fun making Bobby think he was spending all of his money and then reveal his location.

Jack's mind was made up in less than a second. He smirked to himself and began walking in the opposite direction down the street.

Oh it was so on.

...

It took Jack over half an hour to reach the music store on foot. It was one of his favorite places in the entire world. The Noise Box was a small store sandwiched between an Italian bakery and a pawn shop. From the outside it didn't look appealing or even remotely special. But the inside was entirely different. The concrete walls were covered in various band posters and lights on strings decorated the entire ceiling giving the impression that the entire room was glowing. It was a two-story store; first floor had rows upon rows of cds and the second floor was full of old vinyl records. Jack could easily spend hours in there.

"Hey Jack!"

"Hey Steve," Jack said, greeting the tattooed man behind the counter. He headed to the second floor.

Five horizontal rows of vinyl albums adorned the big second floor space. All along the walls were floor to ceiling shelves with boxes upon boxes of .45s and there was a record player in the corner where you could sample records before buying them. Surprisingly the Mercers owned a record player and even more surprisingly it worked. Even after Bobby managed to hit it with his hockey stick in a particularly rough game of house hockey. Not that Bobby cared. Jack was the one who used it the most anyway.

After browsing through the various genres and artists for nearly twenty minutes, Jack pulled out his phone and sent another text to Bobby.

'I'm getting bored. If you don't find me soon I'm gonna have to start spending.'

Instead of a reply his phone rang a few minutes later. He answered it on the fifth ring; why not make Bobby wait a bit?

"Hello?"

Bobby didn't waste any time. "Where the fuck are you?"

Jack could hear distant car noises and figured Bobby was driving. "Oh, just hanging around. Seeing if there's anything worthwhile to buy."

"Listen, kid," Bobby said. "You fuckin' touch my money and I'll hang you upside-down from the goddamn roof when we get home!"

Jack felt himself grin. "Bye Bobby!"

"You little shit I'm gonna-"

Jack hung up before Bobby could finish his sentence. He looked around the store for a few more minutes and then he was on his way, trying to find a new destination to go to. This was way too good to give up yet.

...

DING-DONG!

Bobby stood on the doorstep of Jerry's house and waited for his brother to come to the door. When he spoke to Jerry the week before he had told him that he had had the week off. When no one came to the door, Bobby rang the bell impatiently two more times.

DING-DONG! DING-DONG!

"Jesus! I'm coming!" a voice on the other side of the door said. Jerry opened the door and was shocked to find Bobby there. "Hey Bobby! What the hell are you doing here, man?" When he saw Bobby's face he said, "Whoa, what's eatin' you?"

"Jack," Bobby growled. "I came home and all the fuckin' kid was doin was being lazy and lying on the couch."

"Shoot," Jerry said, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Let me guess-you dragged him out of the house and he ran off and now he's screwin' with you?"

Bobby looked at him for a second with a surprised look and then scoffed. "I don't know where the fuck he went! And he stole mu fucking wallet!"

"He stole your wallet?" Jerry burst out laughing, leaning against the doorframe for support. A death glare from Bobby made him reduce his laughter to a cough. "Sorry. So why are you here? I can't come and help you look for him. I'm working in the backyard and-"

"Calm down," Bobby said, cutting Jerry off impatiently. "I just wanna know where the fuck the kid would go."

"How the hell would I know?" Jerry thought for a moment. "Oh! There's that old music store. Next to the pawn shop, you know?"

"What, that shitty place across from the hockey store?"

"Yeah I guess."

"All right," Bobby said. "Thanks, man. I'm gonna kill that fuckin' kid!"

"Go easy on him, Bobby. It is pretty funny." Bobby didn't answer. Jerry watched him drive off and then laughed as he shut the door.

At the record store Bobby didn't find Jack and the tattooed freak behind the counter didn't help much either. He left the store angrier than when he walked in. He was actually and quite literally going to kill his younger brother. In the car, just before he was about to drive off, he sent a text message.

"Where the fuck are you?"

His phone beeped less than three seconds later. Jesus, how fast could that kid type on a tiny little phone?

"There's no fun in telling you."

Bobby growled angrily and threw his phone down onto the seat. It bounced, hit the dashboard and then slide under the passenger seat. He slammed his fist onto the steering wheel.

"Fuck!"

He drove off in the opposite direction he came from, hoping he'd see Jack along the way. He'd have to remind himself not to run over his brother with the car.

...

It went on for another two hours. Jack timed it, gleefully laughing to himself as every half hour went by. Bobby of course was getting more pissed as the time went by and Jack was almost completely sure that he was going to get killed when Bobby finally caught up with him. Still he couldn't help but enjoying it.

After the record store he went to a coffee shop then to guitar store and then finally to an old hole-in-the-wall-type store where Jack preferred to buy his printed t-shirts. He briefly thought about spending some of Bobby's money-there was a really cool black and red shirt he wanted-but then Bobby would really kill him.

Each time he arrived at a new place he text messaged Bobby, giving him clues to where he was before so Bobby would always be one step behind him. He decided not to be too mean; Bobby should at least be somewhat on his trail. It made it funnier anyway. He had gotten to the point where he had stopped answering Bobby's calls, forcing Bobby to text message. It made Jack laugh because Bobby couldn't text message for shit. It was pretty much the best "prank"-could he call it a prank?-that he ever thought up.

When it was four 'o'clock, Jack began to walk back towards Johnny's bar. Right back to where it all started. He wanted to get home before five. Evelyn came home from work at six and he still had to clean up the house. He flipped open his phone and dialled. Bobby didn't even bother answering with a 'hello.'

"Jack this is getting fucking ridiculous!"

"What?" Jack asked innocently, walking into the parking lot of Johnny's bar.

"Where the fuck are you?" Bobby asked. He swore at someone in another car and then came back on the phone. "I'm gonna kill you."

"Fine, fine," Jack said with a smirk on his face. If Bobby could see him he'd surely smack him upside the head. "I'm at the bar now."

"What?" A few more curses, this time directed at Jack. He made an exasperated, growl-like sound. "Stay there and don't even fucking think about moving." He hung up.

Jack pocketed his phone and took a seat on the raised ground in front of the bar. Bobby took fifteen minutes to get there, speeding no doubt, and when he got out of the car he didn't look too happy.

"Fuckin' fairy!" he growled. Jack stood to meet him. "I oughta fuckin' tie you to the car and drag your ass home."

"Well you wanted to go out didn't you" Jack asked, a full smirk on his face.

Bobby was gonna say something more but then finally shook his head and said, "Whatever." He held out his hand. "Can I have my fucking wallet back before I have to get it myself?"

"Okay, okay." He shrugged. "I didn't actually spend anything."

"Good. For your fuckin' sake."

Jack stuck his hand into his back pocket and immediately a panicked look crossed his features. He slowly looked up at Bobby.

"What?" Bobby asked. "What is it?"

"Bobby I-" Jack began nervously. He grimaced and with an apologetic look said, "It must have fallen out somewhere along the way. I'm-I'm sorry."

Bobby's face went through a range of emotions before finally settling on anger. He screamed a few obscenities at Jack and then sort of lunged for him, hands ready to strangle the hell out of him. Bobby stopped short when Jack pulled the wallet from his pocket and held it in front of his face. Bobby stared incredulously and then ripped the wallet from Jack's hand, cursing loudly. Jack could hardly contain his laughter.

"Get in the fucking car, Jack!" Once they were in the car he said, "You fucking say one thing or laugh and you can fucking walk home."

"All right," Jack said and turned away to hide his smile.

The drive was completely silent. Jack tried turning on the radio but Bobby slapped his hand away when he reached for the dial. After the second attempt he just sat back and tried to keep from laughing.

"So, Bobby," Jack said after they had been driving in silence for five minutes. "What do you want to do tomorrow?"

Bobby shook his head and through gritted teeth said, "You can fuckin' stay home all fuckin' day. I don't care."

Jack snickered and the laugh he had been so desperately trying to hold in finally erupted. It was the kind of laughter that you couldn't stop no matter how hard you tried. It keep coming out of him until he was practically gasping for air. Bobby's angry face seemed to make it funnier and Jack had to look away. He laughed as Bobby stopped the car and made him get out, finally stopping when Bobby's car turned the corner.

He sighed to himself contentedly as he began to walk towards home. Thank God he had his iPod with him. He put the earphones in his ear and cranked up the volume as high as it could go. Images of the past few hours flooded his mind and every time he thought of Bobby's reaction he laughed to himself. Honestly? He couldn't imagine a better way to spend a summer day.

...