A/N: Welcome one, welcome all to my lair.

I'm attempting a new style for this story, so please don't hesitate to let me know whether you love it or hate it so I know whether it's a good idea to continue with this style. I left a lot of stuff vague for a purpose and if anything seems weird it's probably for a reason; feel free to ask for an explanation.

I have this story planned to contain roughly 4 or 5 chapters and then if I get a good response for this work I have a full length story in the works (though not in this style) that I'll post.

I'd love for any comments and constructive criticism you've got and I tend to post faster when I get lots of responses nudge-nudge-wink-wink

Also, I didn't write this as a slash, but it doesn't take much to see it that way if you wish.

Obligatory Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me (though probably fortunately for them) Four Brothers does not belong to me nor does 'Never too late' by Three Days Grace, whom I don't own either…for now anyways. Muahahahaha!

Now, back to your regularly scheduled broadcast…

Aperture, Chapter 1

This world will never be
What I expected
And if I don't belong
Who would have guessed it

And you don't know what's wrong with Jack this time except that it's two in the morning and he just came home and he didn't notice you sitting on the couch so he didn't notice when you saw him wiping his eyes and sniffling and he didn't notice you stand from the couch as he crept up the stairs or the creak of that sixth step as you climbed the stairs after him but you know he'll notice the turn of the knob and the squeak of the door as you open it.

Hey Jack, don't you think two is a little…

And your voice dies in your throat as the door swings slowly open to reveal a scene that makes your insides turn to ice and your shoes fill with cement and no matter how clichéd and cheesy that sounds it's the only way you can think to describe it.

Jackie what are you doing?

And that seems like such a dumb question even to you because it's obvious what he's doing but you don't know what else to say and it just comes out and you just want him to know you're there because you think he missed the door.

Even if I say
It'll be alright
Still I hear you say
You want to end your life

I'm done Bobby, I'm so fucking tired of this shit, I'm just done with it.

And his voice is calm as he supports himself against the wall and he doesn't even seem surprised that you're there and he doesn't even try to hide the gun that he's got shoved up under his chin and got a death grip on like it's the last life jacket on a sinking ship and his eyes stay straight ahead and you don't think he's drunk or high which scares you even more because okay people don't do this when they're sober and clean, not unless they mean it and he doesn't want Jackie to mean it.

Jackie, how about you just put the gun down and we can sort this out. Everything will be alright, just put the gun down.

And he doesn't put the gun down but then again you didn't really expect him to and you think that if you could just get him to tell you what's wrong you could fix it and you want him to believe you because you're Bobby and he's Jack and that's just how it is, how it's been for years.

Jackie, can you tell me what's wrong at least, so we can talk about it?

And his nostrils are flaring and his breath is hitching as he tries to calm himself enough to catch his breath and he's sobbing harder and shaking his head and you know that's all you're going to get but you want more and you're not ready to give up on him yet and your scared stiff that he'll pull that trigger as you watch his Adams apple bob from behind the artificial assassin that's threatening to take away your little brother.

And you start to try again but you're violently interrupted.


The world we knew
Won't come back
The time we've lost
Can't get back
The life we had
Won't be ours again

It hurts too much Bobby, just make it stop! Please!

And his voice is pleading and he's falling, sliding down the wall, that stupid wall that mom made you wallpaper when Jackie came, the wall you had to fix when Jackie hit a hole through it with his baseball bat, the wall you had to repair when Jackie's bong caught it on fire, but this time is different, because you can't fix bullet holes.

Jackie…

And you pause because this is hurting you too, more than you'd like to admit but this isn't about you this is about Jackie and you have to pull yourself together because if you don't it'll be Jackie that pays, not you, not this time.

We can beat this and I promise it'll stop, I promise.

And your voice is breaking and your hands are shaking because now you're reaching for the gun and his eyes follow your hands but you want them on your eyes.

Look at me Jackie.

And his eyes stay on your hands and his grip on the gun tightens and you're scared shitless of what that could mean. You can't help but to think that this should be Ma, not you. You hate yourself for wishing it was Angel or Jerry or anybody but you who has to deal with this right now because you don't know if you're doing this right and nobody is here to help you and if Jackie blows his brains out it'll kill you just as surely as it'll kill him and you're not ready to die.

Jackie, please look at me.

And he does, he turns those ever shining windows on you and for a second you wish that maybe he hadn't because they're not Jackie's eyes anymore, they're the red-rimmed pits that he wore once before, years before when you first saw him and you don't really want to believe that he has regressed that far and you haven't noticed.

It's too late Bobby, I don't want to feel this way anymore.

And you stop reaching because his voice is dead and his finger is on the trigger now and you can see the pressure start to seep from his quaking finger onto the minute crescent that could end it all and you get desperate because this sure as shit feels like the end and you didn't want to do this but you're out of ideas.

Jackie. Just hold on for a fucking second. What do you think this is going to do to Ma, huh Jack? Did you even think about that? What about Jerry and Angel and Ma, they need you here, what about them, don't you care about them?

And you pause because this is going to be harder than you thought and you're not sure you're ready but you have to be because this is Jackie you're talking about and you'll do anything for Jackie.

And what about me Jackie? What about me, huh? I need you Jackie, I need you.

And even though you thought it wasn't possible Jackie starts to cry harder, the sobs rack his impossibly thin frame and you're sure that one of these times his finger is going to slip and it'll all be over then, too late for both of you.

Bobby!

And it comes out as something between and sob and a scream but you barely hear it because all you see is the gun and all you know is that it's moving away from Jackie's head and as his arm goes limp and hits the floor your moving and he fights your presence but you don't care because you've got your arms wrapped around him and he's safe and that's all that matters and you softly whisper into his hair…

Maybe we'll turn it around
'Cause…

It's not too late, it's never too late.

Let me know if you want the next chapter…

Racquet.