Hello friends! I know, another fic? Indeed. This was another request from Mickey00... or anyone who read my "Here's To Many More" Christmas One-Shot. You don't have to read that one to understand this story, but I recommend it. I mentioned in my author's note some headcanons that I had for the boys in this universe, one of them being that Albert has an eating disorder. This one hits pretty close to home for me. I started writing this a few weeks ago when I found out that one of my baby cousins is in the hospital. She's going through something similar to this. It's going to be a long recovery for her, but God is on her side and she is one of the strongest kids I know.

I hope you all enjoy this short story!

Worry was eating Jack alive. It was supposed to be better now, at least that's what he'd thought. Their days with Snyder were done and gone and everything was supposed to be okay now.

Jack wasn't naive. He knew it wouldn't be easy. These things never were. He worked two jobs, getting maybe one day off every week, taking every shift that he could to give his boys everything they wanted. Though the older boy's rarely ever asked him for anything, knowing how much he was struggling. Jack was putting a roof over their heads and food in their mouths; more food than they'd had in years. They were content with that.

But the horrors weren't over yet.

Screams still echoed through the night. Race hadn't slept the night through since they'd moved in. Subconsciously, he must've known this would happen, else Jack would've set a bed for him with a few of the littles. It wouldn't do any good. Not when the young man was getting up in the middle of the night just to climb in bed with him and lay with him till he calmed down.

It was a tight fit. Five in one room and four in the other. If one of them was up with a nightmare, they all were.

Specs still hadn't spoken. Jack knew there wasn't a great chance of ever hearing his voice, but the boy was getting better about communicating in some fashion, whether it was the bits of sign language he'd picked up or simple notes left on scraps of paper he could find. Jack had tried to get him a whiteboard a few weeks back, but Specs didn't seem interested, barely using it to doodle when he got antsy. It was tearing Jack apart inside.

The twins were acting up, of course. Those boys were either at each other's throats or raining havoc on the others with wild, immature pranks that typically resulted in a mess. Jack was happy to laugh it off but it didn't change the fact that he didn't know how to make it stop. He wasn't there all the time. Those boys could do some real damage, and though he'd explained that to them before, they were just kids. They didn't understand.

Every so often, a hiss would make everyone tense. Jack was desperately trying to save up for a brace for Crutchie. The kid's leg was only getting worse. He insisted it was fine, but Jack had taken him to a doctor before. The brace would ease the pain, make it easier to walk and stand. The boy needed it after all Snyder did to make him hurt.

Elmer and little Romeo we're slowly adjusting, which Jack was grateful for. Race was good about taking care of them when Jack was at work. When he wasn't at work, he did his best to take them with him wherever he went. They were so young. Jack wanted them to go outside as much as they could, with both of them starting school for the first time. They were rarely ever allowed outside with the Spider. Jack was going to change that. They needed to be as socialized as they could, because despite Elmer's small stature and Romeo's ADD, they were the youngest. They still had somewhat of a chance to turn out normal.

But what worried Jack the most, above everything else, was how painfully skinny his fiery red headed brother was. Albert hadn't eaten in days. When he did eat, he immediately began to do some kind of work out. Either that, or he'd run to the bathroom and get out what little food he'd put in his stomach. Jack was never one to act like he didn't know, like he wasn't paying attention. But anything he tried left him feeling more helpless and worried than before.

Talking to the boy hadn't gotten him far. Albert got defensive quick, and though the older boys could tell something was off, none of them wanted to press.

Today though, all Jack wanted to do was cry for his brother. It was his day off. Sunday. He always did his best not to work on Sundays. Sunday was their lazy day. He'd let his brothers lay around and play games, watch old movies on their small television that Jack had found at a thrift shop down the street. It was supposed to be carefree and fun.

His boys sat in front of the small screen, cuddled together on their small couch. Jack sat in his designated chair beside that, watching them. His eyes lingered on Albert as tears stung at his eyes. Just a month ago, he'd- at the very least- looked to be a healthy weight. It scared Jack to death how quickly he was losing that. He feared one day the boy would wake up and realize his legs weren't strong enough to carry him out of bed. He was so ready to take the kid to a hospital, get them to knock some sense into him, tell him if he didn't start eating life would only get harder. But he knew in the long run the boy would only end up pushing him away. Not to mention, money was tight. It killed him that he had to wait till it was a true emergency. Until Albert's body decided to give out on him. That was dangerous.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Jack stood to his feet, holding out his hand to Albert, who barely even glanced up at him. "What, Jack?" he asked, clearly exhausted. Jack hated it. The kid was withering away. Soon, a small gust of wind would be able to carry him off.

"Dinner," the young man answered easily, like this was a normal occurrence. "Your choice, pal. Whateva' sounds good," he smiled. At this point he didn't care if the boy requested chocolate pie. At least it was something.

Albert rolled his eyes, but took his big brother's hand anyways, letting himself be pulled to his feet before stumbling into Jack. He would never admit how weak he felt. He wasn't stupid. He knew all of his brothers were watching him, worried for him. Albert didn't turn to them. He just let Jack wrap an arm around his shoulders as the older boy led him to the kitchen.

He knew what was coming. He'd tried to keep it as quiet as possible, but the apartment was only so big. He knew he couldn't hide it forever. So the second he made it to the kitchen, he stopped. Jack stopped with him. "I don't wanna talk about it, Jack-"

"Albert," Jack sighed, shaking his head. He grabbed the boy gently by his shoulders and turned him so they were facing each other. Those deep brown eyes would not meet his own. It scared Jack even more how bony the thirteen year old's shoulder's were. "Look at me, kid." Still, the boy refused. It was so hard to see the boy like this, especially when Jack had known him for so long. Snyder had taken his toll on everybody. For Albert, he'd taken an adorable, fun loving, funny kid and made him so cautious and tense. "Al... I really need you to look at me right now," he basically begged.

Hesitantly, the child lifted his head, his weary eyes meeting those calming green ones that he depended on for so much. "What?" He didn't really mean to sound so harsh. But he was tired. He just wanted Jack to leave him alone for a little while. He'd be fine.

But Jack didn't seem to like that idea. "Albert... do you have any idea how scared I am for you right now?" There it was. The truth. Something that Jack always tried to keep as hidden as possible. His fears. If he was scared, it meant his boys were scared too. "You n' I both know you ain't eaten since Wednesday... that ain't good, pal..."

It should've been obvious. Jack hated that he had to do this. He hated that he had to have this conversation with a boy that should be able to just be a kid. He was thirteen, for Christ's sake.

But the redheaded boy just rolled his eyes like the juvenile he was and crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest. "Just leave it, Jack..." He wanted to sit back down. He didn't want to think about it anymore. He just wanted to forget about the concept of food in general.

"I cannot just leave it anymore, Albert!" Jack winced at the volume of his own words. His heart skipped a beat with the child flinched a little bit. Jack silently scolded himself. He knew better than this. He couldn't yell at these kids. They'd already had enough of that. Eventually the shouts would just make them shut down. That's what happened to Race. Jack couldn't yell. It would get him nowhere. So, after dragging a hand over his face, he gently grasped his brother's wrist, leading him to a chair and gently pushing him down.

Albert looked shaken, but he didn't resist Jack. He looked to tired to fight against him at this point. And Jack's heart broke. "Red... hey..." he called gently when the boy's eyes trailed down to his hands rather than Jack's eyes. "Bud... this ain't somethin' we can just ignore. This ain't you forgettin' ta do your homework from last night..." he tried to explain. "What can I do, kid?" He sounded desperate. He was. "I'll do anything. Just tell me what to do to get you to eat somethin'?"

Silence claimed the room for a moment as Jack reached out for the thirteen year old's hand. The boy watched as their hands laced in each other, playing around with the new weight around his palm for a minute as his throat started getting tighter and tighter. He felt a sense of relief flow through him, knowing Jack would never hurt him, or any of the boys. The worse he did was wrestle with them when they needed to blow off some steam. Even then he made sure not to hit them in any way.

The tears made their way to his eyes before he could stop him. "I-I don't know..." he whined out, his voice shaking as he tried desperately to stop. He didn't want to cry. Jack already had enough to worry about. "I-I... I don' want it... I j'st... I'm sorry-"

Jack shook his head, tightening his grip on his little brother's hand. "No... hey... this ain't somethin' ya need ta be sorry for..." At that, the boy let out a sob, his whole body slouching further as he tried to figure out what to say. But Jack took over first. "Hey... you think I don't know when this started?" he asked, praying to God the kid didn't think that was true. He knew almost everything about all of these boys. But when Albert didn't answer, he sighed. "Kid... Snyder ain't the one takin' care a' you's anymore. He neva' was..." With his free hand, he reached up to wipe at a tear on the redhead's cheek. "He don't get ta tell you what you gotta look like. No one does. But I am your guardian. I'm your big brother. I get ta tell you ta take care a' yourself cause I don't wanna see you in a hospital bed, understand?"

He knew it wouldn't stop the tears. If anything, it only made them fall harder. "I don' know how ta fix it, Jackie..." he admitted, brokenly. It hurt how honest it was. "I just... I don't like it..."

"I know, pal... but... could ya try? For me?" he asked quietly, begging the boy to just take the deal, to try and be better, to not starve himself to death. It was a long shot. "Please, kid..."

For a long moment, Albert just sat there, sniffling and wiping at his face, trying to make the tears stop with Jack's help. It wasn't working. He hated it. He hated that a man he hated made him hate the way he looked, made him absolutely despise food. He hated it. It always made him feel disgusting. But for Jack... he thought maybe he could do it. "Maybe... uhm... could you... could you tell me a story?" he asked, his voice quiet, almost like he was afraid to ask.

A small smile spread on Jack's face at that. "Of course, pal..."

So, after preparing a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich and cutting off all the crust, Jack sat down in front of the boy, pushing the plate towards him, feeling a tug in his chest when the boy looked more nauseous by the second. "Which story ya wanna hear, Albie?"

With a shrug, the kid leaned backwards in his seat, eying the sandwich like it had done something wrong before looking back up at Jack. "The one with the time machine?" he suggested shyly, only for Jack's face to light up with excitement.

"You got it, kid," he winked, before beginning to launch into a made up story that he enjoyed drawing so much. Making up stories had almost become a second nature at this point. It was the easiest way to distract his boys from nightmares and monsters under their beds. And now, it was apparently a way to coax Albert into eating.

As Jack continued on his tale of a few characters saving history, his brothers began filing in. Race first, with little Romeo up on his hip. Jack didn't say anything as his Italian brother set the baby of the family down on the counter and began making him some eggs. It was when Race gave into Romeo's begs of bacon that the rest of the boys came filing in.

Jack didn't mind. He just kept on talking, standing and gesturing to make the story even more alive and believable. It took almost ten minutes for Albert to be distracted enough to take the first bite. Jack tried his best not to look at him as a wide grin spread across his face.

That night was the first night in a long time that Albert ate a whole sandwich and did not walk straight to the bathroom. It was the first night in a long time that Albert had even the slightest amount of energy to laugh with his brothers at the different voices Jack used. It was the first night in a long time that Jack felt like he could do this.

This was the first step. It was a step towards healing.

He could do this.

Full disclosure: I was watching Back To The Future and Timeless while I wrote this story. Hence the "Time Machine story".

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this. It definitely was great to write and I hope to be writing more from this universe soon.

As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, fansies!