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Yeah, well. I should be working at my HSM fiction, but I just can't make myself.
I'm posting this with much much much credit for veiledndarkness, who actually made me want to write and whose Four Brothers fiction I adore the most. Hope you'll like it!
Yeah. They're not mine. If they were, I would make Jackie suffer a lot, but I wouldn't let him die. And I wouldn't delete the scene with the tongue-ring.
Warning: None, I think. If you REALLY want to, you can try to see some slash in here. And, I'm not a native speaker, so beware of bad English.
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For the last couple of hours Jack didn't speak a word to anyone. Only when he was buying the ticket he talked to the bus-driver; but since then – not a single word.
He tried to ignore those who bothered him on his way. He was already used to being teased or offended. His brothers made sure of that when he was younger and still living in Detroit.
He shuddered at the thought. He hadn't seen any of them for a long time already.
As long as he hadn't seen Ma.
The simple thought about her made him want to cry. He hadn't seen her; no.
And he will never see her again.
That was another reason of his silence. And he was quite happy that Bobby was supposed to pick him from the bus-stop only in five hours after his arrival there.
Lots of time to think, he decided.
So, when he arrived, it was the middle of the night, he was alone, hungry and depressed. For a split second he considered calling Bobby or Jerry and ask them to pick him up now.
But only for a second. He needed to think. He wasn't sure if he was ready to face them so quickly.
And if Bobby or Jerry found their peaceful sleep that night, they would be pissed if he woke them up.
He couldn't sleep at all since he got the bad news. He hoped that at least his older brothers were sleeping well.
When Bobby finally came to get him, he looked like he just had a hard night.
Jack couldn't find his voice after so many hours of keeping silent and struggling with tears. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would burst out crying.
Bobby looked at him, curiosity mixed with concern. "How long have you been waitin' here?," he asked raising his eyebrows.
Jack didn't answer. He just looked at him sadly, unable to form a word out of his mouth.
"It's good to see you again," Bobby added to break the silence.
Without another word, Jack threw himself on Bobby and hugged him firmly. A low sob escaped his throat and Bobby gently rubbed his back, whispering soothing words to Jack's ear.
"Come on, Jerry's waiting," he led Jack to the car, taking his bag from him. He felt a bit uneasy about Jack's silence, but he didn't comment on it. He remembered too well how sensitive could Jack be sometimes and how easy it was to unintentionally break his heart.
But when he heard Jack whisper softly, "The funeral?", he smiled. A sad smile, but a smile anyway.
"In about three hours," he simple answered, feeling the small twinge in his stomach when he heard Jack's voice, hoarse and soft, but still steady and gentle.
...It's been such a long time.
After that Jack fell silent again, seating himself comfortably and leaning against the window.
Bobby looked at him anxiously. He looked so helpless and young, just like when he was a scrawny little kid that day he arrived at the Mercer house. So helpless and hurt Bobby found it painful to look at him. It brought back the memories when Jack was still getting used to being a Mercer.
It took Jack five months then. Five months to utter even one single word to any of them.
They drove in silence for some time which seemed to Bobby like hours. But as the minutes passed by he realized that the silence became more comfortable. It reminded of the times when they were both sitting together in Jack's room, just quietly enjoying each other's presence. Jack would strum his guitar then and Bobby would pretend he's not humming alongside the music.
But when he pulled up in Jerry's driveway, he noticed that Jack was fast asleep, tear tracks marking his peaceful face.
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