So this is my story. I enjoy trying to get into different characters heads and attmepting to flesh out what they're feeling and thinking in different moments and in different situations. Whether I'm any good at it remains to be seen, but I've avoided posting this for long enough. Any and all reviews will be greatly appreciated. With that said, onward into the mind of one brooding Bobby Mercer.


By all rights he should have been happy.

He and his brothers had finally achieved the one thing that their lives had been revolving around for the past…the past what? Who the hell knew how long it had been? As far as Bobby was concerned it could have been years…it could have been days.

Bobby turned away from where he had been talking with Angel and Jerry and started up the dusty street; his surroundings basked in the warm glow of the setting sun. Victor Sweet was dead, along with everyone else who had ever even considered going anywhere near his family. His mother avenged, his baby brother avenged. He should be at peace now. But he wasn't. In fact, Bobby thought that he was feeling everything except peaceful at the moment. He had so many emotions whirling around inside him he felt like he was going to explode.

First and foremost, Bobby was still angry. But not the reckless rage that usually overcame him. This was a deep simmering anger and while he may have been able to keep it from boiling over, he couldn't quell it completely. He was, it seemed, mad at everyone. Furious at Victor fucking Sweet for harming his family. Angry at Evelyn and Jack for leaving him…forcing him to continue on without them. And even though he knew that it wasn't fair, part of him was angry at Jerry for ever getting them all caught up in this mess to begin with. But most of all, Bobby was mad at himself, for not being able to keep his family safe. Not being able to save the two people in his life that actually needed his protection. They were innocent in all of this. None of it should have ever involved them. So of course it was them who suffered. It was they who paid the price for everyone else's sins.

Bobby's anger was deafening. He could swear his ears were literally ringing from its intensity. But beneath that fury raging within him, was something else. Something that went much deeper. Bobby was sad. He was devastated; torn from the inside. How could things have gotten so bad? His mother was dead. Never again would Bobby hear Evelyn singing to herself softly as she went about the house, cooking, cleaning. Never again inevitably lose to her when she would con him into a game of scrabble. Never again would he be reprimanded for mundane and behaviors like chewing with his mouth open. Never again be gently scolded out of concern for his unstable lifestyle.

Then there was Jack. Jackie, his baby brother was gone and wasn't coming back. Jack had had so much to live for. He had endured so much hardship, so many horrors, only to be literally gunned down. He already missed his brother so much it hurt. Missed his soft spoken personality. Missed hearing that damn fairy softly strumming his fairy music on his beloved guitar. A sad laughed escaped his lips. He didn't know how any of them were going to ever eat at home again without suffering some form of food poisoning since none of them could cook for shit.

Bobby sighed heavily. Even deeper still; beneath his anger…beneath his pain…Bobby was lost. And he wasn't sure how to find himself again. How could he go on after all that happened? Who did he have left to keep going for? Cause he sure as hell didn't give a rat's ass about himself. Jerry had his family, Camille and his two little girls. Bobby shook his head. He would never understand it but Angel had Sofi…La Vida fucking Loca. What did Bobby have? Sure he had his brothers, but they didn't need him; hadn't for a long time. And Bobby needed to be needed.

Bobby was just passing the front porch of the house when he caught a glimmer of movement in the corner of his eye; felt the softest creak of his mother's rocking chair tickle his ears. Wind. He thought to himself, and nonchalantly glanced towards the house and had halfway turned away again before what he had seen finally registered with his brain.

Bobby twisted his head back around so quickly he felt his neck crack. Bobby was obviously hallucinating. Shit. He really was nuts.

Evelyn Mercer was there, knitting in hand, nonchalantly rocking in her chair. She smiled at him gently, eyes ever bright and full of intelligence.

"Ma?"

"Bobby, you gonna stick around this time?"

Bobby felt a lump rise in his throat, making it hard to talk.

"I'm thinking about it Ma" He cleared his throat roughly. "I'm not really sure what I'm gonna do now."

"Oh Bobby" She smiled at him. "I believe in you. I know you have the strength to keep going forward in your life; really make something of yourself."

Bobby wasn't so sure and damn it if he felt his throat constricting again. "But Ma how can I, after I…you…and Jack…"

"Honey, you know I'm proud of you. You did all you could. As much as you would like to think so, you aren't invincible. Don't carry all of that weight on your shoulders. Bobby, it's not your fault."

Bobby glanced down at his feet, unable to meet her gaze.

Evelyn paused. "You know Bobby. I'm not the only one who thinks so."

Suddenly Bobby heard the soft chords of a guitar being strummed. His head jerked up fast enough to give himself whiplash. There was no fucking way. But there he was. Jack was sitting cross legged on the porch beside Evelyn's chair, his cherished guitar resting in his lap. Bobby started at him and once again felt the sting of impending tears. But these were tears of a different kind. His brother, for the first time, in a long time, looked genuinely happy. No shadows clouding his features, his eyes were clear and bright, no longer haunted with a not so long forgotten past. Jack lowered his guitar and look up at Bobby. He grinned.

"Hey man"

Shit…Bobby Mercer did not cry God damn it. He didn't. What was that foreign sensation in his eyes? Why was Jack's face blurring? Why the hell did it feel like someone had just literally shoved their damn fist down his throat?

He managed to choke out his brother's name.

"Jackie"

Jack laughed at him. "Come on Bobby, no cracks about my clothes…my music? Don't tell me the great Bobby Mercer is speechless. I'm flattered."

Bobby snapped out of his reverie and glared at his brother, eyes narrowing. But, somehow the snappy retort he had planned got lost before it could pass through his lips. He settled for a cough. "fucking fairy."

Jack seemed to like that, his grin widened. "There ya go Bobby, I knew you had it in you"

Bobby didn't say anything. How could Jack be so happy, just sit there and talk to him like Bobby hadn't just sat on his ass and let him die right in front of him.

The grin slipped from Jack's face, a more serious look taking its place.

"Bobby…you know that shit wasn't your fault right? I don't blame you, and you shouldn't either. Besides, now I'm with ma, and believe me man, I'm great. Look at me bro, just let it go."

Bobby stared at him. He couldn't believe the forgiveness he as being offered. The chance to walk away guilt free. But could he accept it?

He decided that he could. Ma had always said you shouldn't look a gift horse it the mouth. "Thank you"

Jack smiled again. "Don't mention it"

This time, Bobby smiled back at him. "You know I'm gonna miss having you 'round here cracker Jack. Won't be the same without having your fairy ass following me around like some lost puppy, always fucking shit up."

"I know…I'm gonna miss you too Bobby. Don't worry about me though, don't get caught up in all this shit and forget to keep living." Jack glanced up at Evelyn who smiled down at him lovingly. "We're both fine."

Bobby opened his mouth to respond but before he got the chance he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He turned around to see Jerry walking towards him.

"Hey, Bobby. Angel and I are gonna head downtown for a game of hockey, Mercer style. You in?"

Bobby turned back to the porch only to find it empty once again, Ma's old chair rocking gently in the light wind.

"Bobby? You okay man?"

Looking again at Jerry, Bobby was unable to find any of his earlier anger and frustration. He felt a warm breeze wash over him, strange for this time of year. But with it he felt a sense of peace settle over him. He hadn't felt this way in a long time.

"Yeah man. I'm good. How 'bout that game huh? Let's go show those bitches what Mercers are made of.


So there it is. I tried to tone down the language a little, but hey. It's Bobby, and he demanded that if he was going to let me explore his psyche, it at least had to sound a little bad ass. Let me know what you think. It doesn't have to be a long winded analysis on my grammar usage, a simple good or bad will suffice, although any suggestion's for improvement would be gratefully accepted as well.