A.N: Just watched the movie, loved it, and am now writing fanfiction for it.

I know this has been done before but, can you blame me for doing it again?

Summery: Jack, a traumatized kid, is placed with the Mercers and works towards healing, with the help of a saint and her three little devils.

"Her name is Evelyn Mercer, she has three boys, all older than you, and she's your last chance." Where the only words Marcus Grainger, his social worker, said to the young boy as they drove down the street, the man had learned long ago that his young charge wouldn't reply, and had given up on trying to drag speech from the boy. True to form, Jack didn't answer, merely continued to stare out the window as the houses passed by. He didn't expect to stay long, so he didn't work very hard at memorizing street names or land marks, staring out the window was just something to do.

After a few more minutes of driving they pulled into the driveway of a rather nice looking two story house, made mostly of brick. There was hockey gear spread out across the small lawn, Jack assumed that it belonged to Evelyn's three boys. He felt a small tremor of fear course through him; older boys had never boded well for him, and after being nearly beaten to death at his last home young Jack was not eager to meet his newest batch of foster brothers. He shifted in his seat, deliberately putting pressure on the new bruises that covered his back; the pain was a reminder to keep his guard up.

Mr. Grainger turned off the car and barely shot Jack a glance as he slid from his seat, the only sign that he was even aware of the boy was the gruff, "stay here" Marcus grunted in his direction before he closed the door and headed up to the house. Perhaps if Jack had been a normal eleven year old child who'd had a normal life, this would have bothered him, as it was he was happy with the arrangement, being ignored was less painful then being paid attention to.

He watched through the windows of the sub-porch as the door was opened and Marcus was ushered inside. He briefly considered running for it, just grabbing his bag and taking off into the cold Detroit night, he even amused himself with the thought of the look on Grainger's fat face when he came back out only to find him gone. One of his hands was on the door handle and the other was clutching the strap of his ragged duffel when his social workers words came floating back to him.

"She's your last chance."

At age eleven Jack was considered un-place able, the judge who had seen him after he'd been caught stealing from his foster mother a month ago had decreed that if he didn't manage to adjust adequately to a foster home in the next three months he would be permanently assigned to a group home until his eighteenth birthday. Marcus had looked for a place that might work for him, but the last one that been terrible, worse than most of the others, and his time was running out. This little brick house and the old woman inside it really was his last chance; the last turnoff on the highway to hell before the final destination.

Swallowing hard, Jack closed the car door, and forced himself to wait patiently for his fate.

"It's to cold to runaway anyhow." He mumbled quietly, telling himself that he wasn't afraid of the idea of a group home until he was eighteen, but not quite believing it.

Meanwhile, inside the house.

The three Mercer brothers where watching the hockey game as they waited for the newest addition to there family to arrive, barely concealed excitement in every line of there bodies. They where so absorbed in pretending that they weren't interested that they almost missed the long-awaited knock on there door. Before they could even get to their feet Evelyn was there opening the door for a balding man in an ugly brown suit who was so wide he filled the entire doorway, there was no sign of a child. The boys wandered over to sit upon the stares behind there mother as she invited the man in. They watched as she quickly scanned the stoop for the newest Mercer, and they could tell as she closed the door that she was confused and worried at his absence. She turned to address the man, obviously hoping for some answers.

"Miss. Mercer?" Evelyn nodded, and the man continued. "My name is Marcus Grainger; it's a pleasure to meet you." Mr. Grainger offered a hand, witch Evelyn quickly shook.

"It's good to meat you, Mr. Grainger, but where's Jack? Did something happen?" She asked, fearing the worst. Marcus on the other hand looked…sheepish.

"He's waiting in the car; I wanted to talk to you for a moment before bringing him in." He shot a glance at the tree boys on the stairs, but obviously decided against asking them to leave.

"You know about Jack's past, of course, but I felt it was necessary to give you some kind of warning about what you're going to be dealing with." He paused for a moment and took a deep breath.

"I don't know how to say it except to just say it, I think he's beyond help, and so does every therapist, parole officer, judge, and social worker he's interacted with. The poor kid's got more issues than any other case I've handled. I'm afraid you're going to find yourself butted up against a wall." He met Evelyn's eyes squarely, and was surprised to see a gentile kind of amusement there.

"I'm sure he's not a bad kid, he just needs an older brother," she gestured to the boys behind her, "and I have three right here." Mr. Grainger didn't reply, but his face clearly showed his disbelief. He nodded and turned to the door, leaving quickly.

He returned a minute later, this time with a young boy in tow, he was thin, with messy sandy blond hair and green eyes that held no small amount of fear. He had a spot in Evelyn's heart immediately, and she could tell by the look on Bobby's face that her eldest was already feeling protective; good, if Bobby put his mind to making this boy family then there was nothing that could stop it from happening.

Jack was silent throughout the introductions, his jaded eyes sizing up his new family, calculating the damage they could do to him and making notes of places to hide. Once Grainger left there was a heartbeat of silence before Evelyn instructed the boys to show him to his room.

"Come on kid, room's upstairs." Bobby said turning to walk up the steps, only to be tripped by a well placed foot from Angel. He fell face first on the steps, cursing the other boy out the whole way down and the whole way back up. The eldest Mercer tackled his younger brother, intending to show him on no uncertain terms why messing with him was a bad idea. Angel retaliated, and fought his older brother as Jerry cheered in the background and Evelyn just stood there, looking bored.

She shot a glance at Jack and instantly her eyes grew troubled.

"Boys." That's all she said, one word, she didn't even raise her voice, but the wrestling match immediately stopped. It wasn't until all eyes rested on him that Jack realized that he'd backed himself up against the door. His eyes where wide in his face, he looked absolutely terrified. Bobby felt a stab of guilt go through him, but he quickly pushed the useless emotion aside. Standing up he brushed some imaginary dirt off of his shirt.

"Come on Jack, let's get you settled in." When the other boy didn't move he sighed, this kid was way too skittish for his tastes.

"Look kid, I'm not going to hurt you, Angel and I, we where just playing." Jacks eyes flicked to Angel, who was by now sitting back on the stairs with Jerry, watching them. The dark skinned youth flashed a grin and waved, showing that he was okay. The boy's eyes returned to Bobby, with maybe just a smidgen less fear.

"Now can we go upstairs to your room?" The older boy asked, as if he was talking to a much younger child. Jack nodded finally, and Bobby turned around and started up the stairs, this time with no mishaps, and Jerry and Angel followed him. When Jack hesitated at the bottom of the stairs Evelyn spoke up.

"Go on Jack, go see the room, I hope you like it." This statement earned her the first sign of any emotion besides fear shed yet seen on her new charge's face, happiness. He gave her a thin, watery smile that seemed to make the whole room brighter, and Evelyn found herself wondering how brilliant his real smile must be, for that tiny smirk to be that beautiful. As she watched Jack climb up the stairs she sent up a small prayer that someday she would get to see him grin. A hopeful look upon her face, she turned go make some food for her boys.

Upstairs, in Jack's new room.

Angel pushed open the door with a tiny flourish, and stood back to allow the young newcomer entrance. Jack stepped into the room, his eyes wide in shock. The room as by no means fancy, but to him it was a palace. Soft blue carpeting covered the floor, and the walls where a clean white. Furniture was simple; a desk and chair rested beneath the window, a bed rested up against the wall next to the door, and a small dresser held a place beside the head of the bed, next to it was a door to what he presumed to be a closet.

"So what do you think?" Jerry's voice came from behind him, making Jack jump. In his excitement he had forgotten there was anyone else around. He shot another awe filled look around before turning to face the youth.

"All this is mine?" It was the first time they'd heard his voice; it was light and somewhat hoarse, like it hadn't been used in a long time. For a moment the three Mercers where silent then they broke into simultaneous noise. Angel chuckled and shook his head, just as Jerry and Bobby spoke to the bewildered Jack.

"Yes it's yours."

"So you do speak, I was beginning to think Angel's ugly face had scared your voice away." Angel, upon hearing this, scowled at Bobby.

"If anyone around here's ugly, Bobby, its you." He replied, his scowl intensifying.

"That so, fish-lips?"

"Yeah that's so, shit-face." Angel flipped his brother off, and Bobby tackled him in retaliation. Jerry quickly tried to intervene but he, to, was pulled into the fray. Jack watched as the tussle migrated from the small space of his new bedroom to the even smaller space of the hallway, he was getting the feeling that this was a common occurrence.

Ignoring them for a moment he walked over to the dresser, opened the top drawer and placed his stuff, still in the duffel, in it. He didn't bother to unpack, in his mind unpacking meant you expected to stay, and he'd learned long ago that it was a painful mistake to have expectations. By now the fight was over and the boys where straitening themselves out, Jerry stuck his head in the door, a smile plastered to his face.

"Jack, dinner." Then he was gone, and the others with him, heading downstairs. He realized abruptly that he had no clue where the dinning room was and quickly rushed to catch up with them, afraid that he wouldn't be fed if he didn't get there fast enough.

When they reached the dinning room Jack was surprised at the wealth of food spread across the table, large amounts of chicken, salad, and rolls, as well as juice and milk. He'd seen this much food, and more, at the group homes, but it was strange that there would be such a large amount for only five people, as soon as grace was said and the older boys began to eat, however, he understood why; the three of them ate enough for a small army. Before Jack could even think of getting food for himself Bobby, Angel, and Jerry had filled his plate with more food that he would ever be able to finish and Evelyn had poured him a glass of juice. He wasn't about to question why they would willingly give him food, he was too hungry, and besides, who knew when he'd be allowed to eat again. Without wasting another second Jack attacked his dinner, eating as fast as he could.

Bobby watched in awe as Jack shoved food into his mouth almost faster than he could see. When was the last time the kid had eaten? He shot a look at his mom, who was sitting opposite him at the other end of the table and saw that she, too, was watching Jack eat with a concerned look on her face. He looked at his brothers and wasn't surprised to find that Angel was to busy stuffing his face to notice anything, but he could tell that Jeremiah was aware of Jack's eating habits. He met his brother's eyes, and watched as Jerry shot a quick glance at Jack then looked back at him and quirked an eyebrow. Bobby took this to mean, what's up with him? Bobby replied with the tiniest of shrugs, not sure. Both of Jer's eyebrows rose this time and he gave his head a little jerk in Jack's direction, should we do something? The eldest Mercer nodded, flicking his eyes quickly to Evelyn, yeah, its bothering mom. Jerry nodded in return then gently touched Jack's hand as he moved to put more food in his mouth. Instantly Jack dropped the fork and yanked his hand away from Jerry.

"You know Jack, you can slow down, no one's going to take it from you." Jerry said, a smile intended to reassure the boy on his face. Jack's only response was to nod. Bobby put a hand to his ear, trying to improve his hearing.

"Sorry, didn't catch that, what'd you say?" Bobby was tired of Jack's whole non-verbal thing; if the kid was going to be a Mercer he was going to have to learn how to be loud. Jack gulped, and then said something that sounded like 'okay' but it was so quiet that Bobby couldn't be sure. He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around.

"Man, I must be goin' deaf, what was that?" Bobby grinned at Jack, who was now giving the older boy the tiniest of glares. After a moment, though, he took a deep breath and repeated, louder this time, what he had said before.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?" Jack didn't say anything and Evelyn shot Bobby a look that clearly said 'don't push your luck.' Bobby grimaced but let it drop, for now.

The rest of dinner went smoothly, and Jack soon found himself being led to his new bed by Evelyn. She was careful not to crowd him, she merely told him goodnight and wished him sweet dreams, and turned out the light. She paused, though, just before she closed the door and spoke softly to the small figure that had already captured her heart.

"Welcome home, Jack." With that she left, closing the bedroom door behind her.

He lay there for a long time, trying to get to sleep, but he soon realized it was impossible, the bed was much softer than he was used to, and he couldn't get comfortable. Sighing, he rose and pulled the comforter off the bed and grabbed the pillow, he lay down on the carpeted floor and wrapped himself in the fluffy comforter. Much better, he thought as he drifted off to sleep at last, his new foster mom's parting words drifting though his mind just before oblivion claimed him.

"Welcome home…"

A.N: Yeah, yeah, I know. Boring, sappy, the character's personalities were off, but it's only the first chapter okay? I think it will get better. Just review and I'll write more.