A/N - Hi guys, Just wanted to make it clear that this is not a new fic. It was previously 'Untitled' and, well, the title I've chosen isn't a great improvement but it'll do. To try and combat a little bit of writers block I seem to have caught I thought I would revist this fic and clean it up a bit. Nothing new is going to happen and the ending is going to stay the same but there are a few less spelling mistakes now and some of the paragraphes have been compressed. Anyway, thanks for reading!

"Are you sure this is the right address?" Mark queried, taking his attention from the I pod in front of him for the first time since he got in the car. "Looks like they've had a drive-by or something."

"It's the right address. It's just not quite how Evelyn described it." Rachel replied, hoping she didn't sound as confused as she felt. She knew that Evelyn wasn't from the best neighbourhood in Detroit but when she talked about her home she invoked visions of happy times spent in a cosy family home. Rachel had definitely not pictured the beat up house that was in front of her. Half of the windows were without panes and there was evidence of serious repair work being carried out. "Look, just stay here while I go and see if anyone's in. Maybe I wrote the wrong house number or something when I copied it from the details in the office."

"Whatever" was the half-hearted reply she got from the sullen teenager sitting in the passenger seat as he plugged his headphones back in and cranked up the volume to a dull thud.

As she stepped out of the car, the icy wind blowing down the street whipped up her clothes and hair causing her to grab her coat lapels and pull her hat further down over her red curls. It had finally stopped snowing but the temperature had continued to drop. It looked as if they were in for another hard frost and it was not the kind of weather to be loitering in the street. Grabbing a cardboard box from the back seat she made her way to the front lawn where a figure wrapped in numerous layers had appeared, busy at the sawmill with breath colouring the air almost as much as the sawdust floating around him.

"Excuse me?" She tried to shout above the whining of the power tools "I'm looking for the Mercer residence?"

Getting no reply, or any indication that she had been heard, Rachel decided that she would need to change her position. If the man in front of her couldn't hear her, she would just have to hope that he would see her before her hands started to turn blue. However, stepping into his line of sight caused more of a reaction than she was expecting.

"Jesus, lady! Didn't anyone tell you not to sneak up on people when they're working," shouted Bobby Mercer, eyes hidden behind plastic goggles but scowl firmly in place, "Scared the shit out of me - I could have cut off my fucking hand or something. This isn't a toy, you know!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you but you didn't hear when I called out. I'm looking for the Mercer residence. Would you be able to point me in the right direction?"

"This is the Mercer residence, well, what's left of it anyway. Who are you?" came the gruff reply.

"My name's Rachel Robinson. Evelyn Mercer volunteered at the drop-in centre I run. Some of her things were in the office, pictures of her family and some odds and ends. I was told that some of her sons still lived here and thought they might want them."

Rachel cast another glance at the house, wondering what could have happened the two-story in front of her, unsure that the information she had been given was right. Surely no one would be living in a house so open to the elements at this time of year. While she looked away, Bobby took his chance to give her the once over. He vaguely remembered the face and the hair from his mother's funeral but didn't think she'd gone to Jerry's house after the service with the rest of his mother's friends. If she did, they definitely hadn't been introduced. Unfortunately, the thick winter coat and scarf wrapped around her prevented any further inspection of her possible attributes.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Bobby," he replied, pulling of his plastic goggles. "I'm sorry but I don't remember Ma telling me about you."

"Well, I only knew your mother for a few months but she told me plenty about her boys. She talked about you all the time." Now that he had given his name and she could see his face properly, Rachel knew that the man before her was the eldest of the Mercer brothers even if he was somewhat different to the pictures Evelyn kept on her desk. He still had the essence of the smiling eighteen year old, standing proudly in a gleaming hockey uniform, that Evelyn had shown her but his features were a bit more worn around the edges, his eyes had lost some of their youthful shine and, while she wouldn't quite describe them as cold, they were definitely world weary. "There are some really great pictures in here and she told me the stories behind them all. I didn't have Jeremiah's address to pass them onto him so when I found out that you and your brothers had moved home I wanted to make sure you got them."

"Yeah, Ma really used to like to talk about the old days. Seemed like she remembered everything any of us ever did - good and bad. I'll never know how she kept track of all of us" he smiled sadly, a mixture of fond memories and grief clouding his expression as he took the box from her. Without looking, Bobby knew which photographs would be inside. His photo would be the one she took before he went out on the ice for his first professional hockey match, determined to get the snapshot before he got his uniform messed up from playing too rough; Jeremiah would be standing proudly in cap and gown, clutching his high school certificate with pride after graduating 4th in his class; Angel would be dressed in a tux, Sophia on his arm, on the way to the senior prom and thinking more of what they would get up to afterwards than the actual prom itself; and Jack would be strumming his guitar, on stage for the first time at an open mike night, half way through a song he wrote and dedicated to Ma, a song Bobby would give anything to hear one more time. "Thanks for bringing them over. I'm sorry I shouted at you." he said, hoping his voice didn't sound as choked with emotion as he felt.

"Your welcome," she replied, not sure what to say to someone who obviously considered themselves to be a tough man but was just as obviously suffering from the loss he felt.

Before either of them got the chance to try and fill the awkward silence that had developed the air was filled with the sound of a car horn being pounded. They both turned to her beat up, old Nissan where Mark was glaring at them through the fogged up passenger side window, and rolling his pale blue eyes in an 'are you done yet?' expression. To Bobby, the kid looked no more than fifteen although he had a lean, hard edge to him. The fading bruises and split lip certainly didn't help to give him a youthful, innocent appearance but Bobby had met kids like him before. In fact, he used to be a kid like him - saw too much and did too much far too young. Who knew what would have happened to him if Evelyn hadn't given him a home and a family to care for?

"He with you?" He asked

"Yeah," Rachel replied, offering no more details but voice filled with concern for the young boy. "I'd better go before he decides to hot-wire the car and take off. It was nice to meet you, Bobby."

As she drove down the street , she looked back at the Mercer house where Bobby had sat down on the front steps to open the box she had delivered, and she wondered what could have been. The boy sitting beside her had thankfully switched off his ipod and was now gazing out at the neighbourhood.

"Was that really the right place?" he asked, clearly confused. "Evelyn seemed like nice, old lady. Why would anyone want to shoot up her house like that?"

"I don't know, Mark. Evelyn was one of the sweetest people I've ever met. That was her eldest son I was talking too. He seemed nice too." She was just as confused as he was but hadn't wanted to quiz Bobby about what had happened. After all, she didn't know him or his brothers at all.

"Maybe I had a lucky escape," Mark offered, "There was blood on the street outside the house. If Evelyn hadn't been killed in that robbery and I'd moved in with her like she said I could, maybe I would have been shot too."

Before she got the chance to reply, his ipod had been switched back on and the earphones were firmly back in place. The rest of the journey back to her drop-in centre was spent in silence but she couldn't help thinking that if Evelyn was still here, Mark would now have a safe home. He wouldn't be the bruised and battered teenager that she wanted desperately to protect, being bounced from home to home in welfare system that didn't work.

As Bobby opened the door and stepped into Jerry's house he could just about smell the remains of a home cooked meal and immediately felt guilty, sure that he said he'd be back in time to eat with his family. He'd been staying at Jerry's place for the past few weeks while he finished up the repairs on his mother's house. He knew he would always be welcome but he couldn't help thinking that Camille must be getting sick of having him, Angel and Sophi to cook for and clean up after as well as his two young nieces.

He made his way into the dining room where he knew they would all be congregated.

"Hey Guys, I'm sorry I'm late. I kind of lost track of time" he said as he entered the room, getting a glare from Jerry and raised eyebrows from Angel.

"That's ok, Honey. There's plenty of left-overs if you want me to heat something up" said Camille, eager to keep the peace. She loved having her husbands family in their house but knew that once they started arguing it was hard stopping them. She'd already let the girls stay up past their normal bed time and the last thing she wanted was for them to be woken up at this time of night by the sound of their father and uncles shouting at each other. "You're going to wear yourself out if you keep working on the house as late as this"

"Like hell he's been at the house. I can smell the JD on him from here!" Jerry liked a drink as much as the next guy but Camille had spent hours in the kitchen and while Bobby was in their house he should have more respect. "You could have phoned or something, let us know where you were and when you'd be back. This isn't a damn hotel, you know."

"Sorry, Dad!" Bobby replied sarcastically. "If you must know, I ran into a few of the guys from the neighbourhood. Once we got talking about the old days it was kind of hard to get away."

"Jesus, Bobby! I thought you said you weren't going to get back into all that shit. Angel heard you say it too"

"Yeah," Angel said, "You said that after everything that happened, we needed to lie low, let the dust settle. You're crazy if you think the cops won't be all over your ass as soon as you even think of doing something illegal."

"I'm crazy? You're the one dating La Vida Loca! Where is that mad woman anyway? She found a new man to fuck with already?" Bobby asked. She could be the most annoying woman in the world and she had gotten Angel into a lot of trouble in the past but Bobby didn't really have anything against the girl anymore. She came through for them when they really needed it. Bobbie didn't know many people who would willingly walk into a cop shop and keep a level head when there was so much at stake. However, when it came to creating stupid arguments with his brothers, she was still an easy target.

"She's in work - and don't you go trying to change the subject," Jumped in Jerry, just as Angel was starting to raise to the bait. "I don't want you bringing any trouble to my house. I remember the guys you used to hang with. They were no good then and they're no good now. I've got a family Bobby. I don't want them getting hurt!"

"Relax, Jeremiah. I'm not going to do anything stupid, I promise," Bobby replied, hoping he sounded as sincere as he felt. Bobbie knew he would never be the kind of person to hold down a normal 9 to 5 job and with his record, he probably wouldn't be able to get one if he tried, but he was making an effort to keep on the straight and narrow. His family was the only thing that kept him sane. Losing Evelyn, and then Jack, was the hardest thing he'd ever had to deal with. He knew he was a hot-head who took chances when any normal person would back away, but maybe he was finally growing up. Maybe he was realising that when the consequences were serious, it was often the people he loved that had to pay for them.

Sensing a calm in the storm, Camille decided that this was the right time to step in. "Well Bobby, at least you made it back in time to have some dessert with us. Why don't you stop hovering in the doorway, and take a seat? Don't leave that box in the hallway through, I don't want the girls tripping over it in the morning." she said as she headed into the kitchen to grab an extra bowl.

"Almost forgot I'd brought this back with me." he said, as he took the chair next to Angel, and opened the package "Someone brought this stuff round to the house this afternoon, think she said her name was Rachel. Anyway, she said Ma had been doing some kind of volunteer work and she wanted to give this stuff back to us. Guess they needed to clear out her desk or something. Check it out, Jerry! Angel had a 'fro to be proud of, man!"

"Oh, please! Like you have any right to dis my hair. From what I remember you spent the first half of the '90s sporting a Mullet, dude!" replied Angel as his older brothers both started laughing. Reaching inside the box he grabbed the rest of the photos and started leafing through them. "Man, I remember when Ma took these. Look at Cracker Jack in this one - he was so nervous he pucked three times before he managed to make it on stage but ,once he got going, he didn't drop a chord. Ma was so proud of him"

"Hey, she was proud of all her sons. She wouldn't have kept all these pictures if she wasn't." said Camille, putting her arms round her husband to look over his shoulder at the snap shots they were passing around. In their grief, she knew the brothers were all feeling guilty for both the trouble they caused their mother while they were still living under her roof and the infrequent family reunions once they grew up and went their separate ways. "It was nice of Rachel to bring them over. Lord knows how she found the time, poor girl's rushed off her feet."

"You know her?" asked Bobby, "She said she only brought them to the house 'cause she didn't know your address. What kind of work was Ma doing anyway?" He always meant to call home more often. When he did call, his mother always wanted to fill him in on what his brothers had been up to or talk about what was going on in his life. Bobby guessed he'd just assumed that things were the same at home as they always had been. He never really contemplated the fact that Evelyn might be doing new things or meeting new people.

"There's a youth centre on Lincoln Avenue. Keeps the kids off the streets and out of trouble. Rachel runs the place and Evelyn started working there after she read an article in the local newspaper about it. She said was getting all restless with the house being empty and helping out with the kids stopped her from feeling old." Camille explained

"She had some kid with her when she came to the house. He stayed in the car but he looked like he'd had ten kinds of crap beaten out of him."

"Sounds about right!" Evelyn had told Camille about the frustrating circumstances of some of the teenagers she met at the centre. "The city council give the centre hardly any funding. Rachel's the only full time staff member and has to rely on volunteers and donations just to keep the place going but when they can't find a foster placement at short notice, they just send the kids over to her to patch up. 'Emergency placements' they call it."

"Sounds just like Ma to get involved in something like that. She always was a sucker for a lost cause" smiled Angel.

"Speak for yourself, little brother. The only lost cause in here is you!" Joked Bobby, happy that he had yet another reason to be proud of the woman who raised him.

The rest of the evening passed quickly as they tucked into Camille's chocolate cake and talked about the old days, reminding each other of the pranks they pulled and how Evelyn would always figure out who was responsible for the jokes they played on each other.