Disclaimer – I do not own Four Brothers or the characters, I just wish I did . . .

Author Notes – This is my first fic for the Four Brothers –fandom and I just want to say, in my defence, that I'm Swedish! I have absolutely no idea how to write the way Bobby speaks! I hope it isn't too terrible but if it is feel free to give me some advice on how to make it better.

I also want to say that I have pictured Jack to be about 13 years old. In case you're wondering.

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Sometimes

Sometimes tears say all there is to say

Sometimes your first scars won't ever fade away

In the beginning – The Script

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The snow fell slowly towards the white ground – millions of unique beings coming together to create a whole – as Jack sat perched on the windowsill watching in silence. It was in the middle of the night and if it had not been for the snow or the few streetlamps that had not been broken yet it would have been completely dark. Sighing, and feeling calmer by the second, he watched as his warm breath fogged up the cold glass. He let his head fall to the side, his temple resting against the window, and reached up a trembling finger to trace intricate but unimportant patterns on the glass.

He had always had trouble sleeping at night and a small shiver went through his body as images from his latest nightmare flashed before his eyes, but he blinked his eyes rapidly to clear them away and make sure that no tears had the chance to fall. He had cried enough for a lifetime and the only thing he had got for it was the knowledge that it did not help. No one cared if he was hurt or scared; they only got annoyed that he showed them how weak he really was. Boys do not cry.

The sound of the front-door being opened and closed reached his ears. He pulled his legs closer against his chest and wrapped his free arm around them to try and preserve what little warmth that had not left him yet.

He had not been in this house long, just a bit over a month, and he was still trying to get used to it. Everything was so strange here. All the things he had learned during his short life seemed to somehow be wrong and everything he expected to happen just did not. It left him a bit confused but more then anything it made him anxious. He did not really trust that he was safe here, no matter how many times the lady, Evelyn, told him that, because as far as he knew you could not be safe anywhere. He felt certain that as soon as he let his guard down they would pull the rug out from under him and prove, once again, that he was right.

His first day here he had hardly dared to breath. Sure, Evelyn had seemed nice enough and was not really that intimidating but the other boys that lived here . . . Jerry was the oldest and was apparently going to move out soon. He was tall and black with eyes that seemed to just look right through you. He acted nice and seemed to always have a smile ready but Jack had seen the muscles on his arms and knew to keep his distance.

Angel was just a couple years older then Jack but was practically twice as big. He was black too and already as tall as Jerry, but unlike Jerry he did not think he had ever seen Angel smile. Oh, he pretended to smile but to Jack it only looked like a dog barring its teeth before it ripped your throat out. He had made sure that he always stayed as far away from Angel as possible and felt pretty relieved that Angel never bothered to pay too much attention to him anyway.

But as intimidating as the brothers were on their own Jack thought they were down right scary when they were together. They were always so loud and physical, always yelling and fighting and breaking stuff, and Jack made damn sure to stay out of their way when they started wrestling in the middle of a room. He was always waiting for Evelyn to finally get sick of it and lock them in the closet or throw them out in to the cold without their jackets but she always just smiled and shook her head as if it was nothing.

It did not make any sense to Jack at all. He had always been taught to be quiet and to fade in to the background as if he was not even there and the few times he had actually broken something . . . well, he did not like to think about that.

A car drove past outside the window, tires spinning when they momentarily lost their grip through the curve, before it continued on down the road and out of sight.

The snow had slowed down a little now and it looked like it might even stop before morning. Jack did not really mind the snow that much – at least as long as he was allowed to be inside – because he liked the fact that it never got as dark when there was snow on the ground.

The almost quiet creaks of someone coming up the stairs made Jack tense and hold his breath. He was pretty sure that whoever it was would not come in to his room but instead heed for their own bed, but he still felt that sliver of fear that told him that he had been right, that this house was just like all the rest.

To his horror the footsteps came to a stop just outside his door and he closed his eyes as he heard the door open slowly. His heart was beating rapidly inside his chest and sweat gathered in his hands as he wished with all his heart that he could be anywhere but here. He should have known better then to even have the fleeting thought that this house might be different from all the rest.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever and when Jack felt sure that several minutes most have passed he finally dared to sneak a peek at the door, eyes hidden beneath his bangs. It was dark inside the house, much darker then it was outside, but he still felt his breath catch in his throat as he made out the shape of Bobby standing quietly in the door.

Bobby Mercer, the oldest brother that had apparently moved out a few years ago and had only yesterday come home to visit for a week. Bobby who, even if he was shorter then both Jerry and Angel, seemed to be larger then life and tougher than both of the other brothers together. Bobby who had already proved to be just as loud as the others, just as physical and with a temper so short he seemed to get ticked of by the smallest things. Bobby who, Jack had learned, was nicknamed the Michigan Mauler for a reason.

His eyes flicked back to the window immediately, his whole body trembling as he tried to hug his legs closer to his body. He had hardly said a word to Bobby during the short time he had been here and it did not feel right that he had suddenly and unexpectedly shown up in his room in the middle of the night.

"What you doin' up, kid?"

Bobby's voice was quiet, probably not to wake the others, but it still made Jack flinch. He tried to hide it by once again reaching up to trace patterns on the window but he could not stop his hand from trembling.

"Couldn't sleep or somethin'?"

Jack turned his head to fully face the window and hoped that Bobby would just go away if he did not answer him. It was in the middle of the night after all and Bobby had obviously been out, he should be too tired to want to talk to someone who did not listen.

Jack felt his heart sink when he heard a quiet sigh and saw out of the corner of his eye how Bobby stepped further in to the room before closing the door behind him. He then moved over and sat at the edge of the bed, hands clasped and elbows resting on his knees. Jack turned back to the window again, his finger pushing harder against the glass in a falling attempt to stop his hand from shaking.

He did not know what Bobby wanted from him but he could think of a hundred different things, none of them pleasant. He had seen and experienced a lot in his life – first with his parents and then with different foster parents and in group homes – and he thought he knew most ways in which the body could hurt. He knew what it felt like to get a slap to the head, a fist in the stomach, a knee in the groin or a belt to the back. He knew what it felt like to have his hands tied together so hard that they lost circulation, how his back would hurt after he had been locked in the trunk for hours or how it felt like to be pushed down and –

He blinked his eyes quickly and drew in a ragged breath. Yeah, if there was one thing Jack knew about then it was what pain felt like.

"Ma's worried about ya, you know."

Jack tensed for a second, having almost forgotten that he was not alone in the room, before he blew out a long breath and watched how the glass fogged up again. His finger kept tracing patterns and he was happy to see that it did not tremble as much anymore, ignoring the fact that it was most likely because he was too exhausted.

"She's tryin' to help but you're not makin' it any easier when you won't talk to her."

Jack ignored him, focusing his eyes on the finger moving across the glass as he started humming softly under his breath. It was not a real song just a random melody that popped up in his head. He always found it easier to pretend that the world was not real if he used music to block it out with.

"Hey kid, you listnin'?" Bobby said, his voice finally losing its calm and raising in volume.

Jack flinched, the humming stopping abruptly and his finger pausing on the window. He waited a second, letting his heart calm down and making sure that Bobby was not moving towards him, before he let his finger keep moving over the glass. "What do you want?" he whispered, his voice scratchy from lack of use but he knew that Bobby would hear him anyway.

"So it speaks," Bobby said and Jack bit his lip in irritation. "Just tryin' to tell you that Ma's a good person. I know you probably haven't met too many of those but she really wants to help ya."

"Yeah," Jack whispered, "they're all just trying to help."

Bobby sighed behind him and he heard the bed groan as he shifted for a better position. "I mean it, kid. I know that there're a lot of fuckers out there that make promises that they've never intended to keep but Ma's not like that. She wants to help but she can't if you won't even talk to her."

"Maybe I just don't wanna talk." Jack said, blinking his eyes rapidly again to clear his vision from the unwanted memories. Talking never did anything anyway. His social-worker always tried to make him talk but the few times he actually cracked and opened his mouth he could see that she did not really want to hear it. It was all just pretend, they asked because they thought that they had to but they did not really want to now what had happened to him or how he felt. No one really cared.

"Well, you're gonna have to," Bobby responded and suddenly stood up. Jack tensed in anticipation for what would come and flicked his eyes fearfully towards Bobby when the other just sat down next to him on the windowsill. He was so close that Jack could feel the heat coming from his body and the faint smell of beer on his breath.

"Jeez kid, breath will ya! I'm not gonna hit you or anythin', I just wanna talk."

Jack flicked his eyes towards him again before he drew in a small breath. He could feel his body starting to tremble again but this time it had more to do with tension then simple fear. At the first sign of danger he was ready to run, get as far away as possible as fast as humanly possible and if that meant through the window then that was the way he would go. He gave a quick look out the window, noting that the ground under the window was clean from bushes or anything else that might make the fall hurt even more, before he looked back at Bobby again.

"Just leave me alone," he said, trying to sound tough and hating how his voice broke. "I don't wanna talk."

"Yeah, well I say you're gonna have to," Bobby responded.

"Fuck you," Jack hissed, his own heart skipping a beat when he realised what he said but he was too scared and too tense to back down now. "You don't even care! No-one fuckin' cares!"

Bobby looked a little taken back with his outburst but collected himself in a second and then Jack could see the anger coming alive in his eyes. "What do you know? Maybe I care a whole fuckin' lot, maybe Ma does to, but how would you ever now if you behave like a grumpy little kid?"

"I'm not a little kid!" Jack snarled. "I just don't wanna talk, alright? I'm so sick of everyone pretending like things get better if you talk about it because it doesn't! It never does! It doesn't . . . It doesn't make everything go away!"

He could feel the first tears escaping his eyes now and he swiftly brought a hand up to wipe them away. Boys do not cry, he reminded himself.

The hand on his shoulder took him by surprise and he threw himself away, landing in a heap on the ground and scooting backwards as fast as he could. "Don't!" he yelled. "Don't, I'm sorry!" His back hit the wall and he quickly brought his knees up and curled in to a little ball. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry," he whispered, voice breaking as he started rocking back and forth. "I'm sorry . . ."

It was silent for several minutes, the only sound Jacks broken sobs and heavy panting. He started to hope that Bobby might have gone away, left when he realised what a little freak Jack was, and that he was alone but then the soft shuffling of feet made his breath hitch again and he hugged his legs closer to his chest. "Go away, please just go away," he whispered pleadingly.

He heard the ruffle of clothes as Bobby kneeled down in front of him and the heavy sigh that left the older mans lips before he spoke. "I'm not gonna hurt you, kid," he said softly. "Whatever you've been through, whatever you think, I promise I'm not gonna hurt you."

"I'm sorry," Jack tried again. "I'm sorry."

"You got nothin' to be sorry about," Bobby said and Jack flinched but did not move away as the man's hand came to rest upon his knee. "You ain't done nothin' wrong."

"I just don't wanna talk," Jack whispered through the tears. "I just . . . I don't wanna talk."

"Yeah," Bobby said and Jack felt him scooting closer and leaning against the wall beside him. Their shoulders rubbed against each other and Bobby's hand stayed gently on Jack's knee. "Yeah, I got that."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright, kid," Bobby whispered. "I'll be here when you're ready. Everything's gonna be alright."

Jack felt a shiver run through his body at the words and wished with all his heart that he was telling the truth. He drew in a ragged breath, willing his heart to calm down, and then rested his forehead on his knees. His silent tears kept running.

Bobby stayed beside him, hand still on his knee, long after Jack fell asleep.

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