This is inspired off of the picture of a hockey player Jack has on his bed. If you look closely in the picture of him holding his guitar you can see it. I'm assuming it's Bobby because I'm a fangirl like that. Also-there will be lots more fics to come based off that same idea so please let me know what you think!!
It's only until after his baby brothers' death does he notice the picture of himself on Jack's bed.
They're cleaning the house…. fixing window, repairing walls. It's a team effort; each brother does what he does best. But Jack's room is left for Bobby.
Without even agreeing on it no one enters that room…it's a shrine to them. The house may symbolize everything they had but that room will always be everything they lost.
His room stays the way it is until the rest of the house is finished. Then Bobby enters it, tools in hand, tears in his eyes.
He stares, standing in the center of the room, looking at everything. Despite the shattered window, the bullet holes that allowed the cold winters air to enter, Bobby was sure he could still smell his little brother. He wanted to so badly. He sets the boxes of tools on the ground and walks toward the bed…. and that's when he spots it.
To be honest, he doesn't even remember the photo being taken…but there he is. He lifts the frame, holds it for a long moment then throws it to the floor.
The glass shatters, the sound, the mess, only adds to the disaster.
Bobby falls to the bed, ignoring the jabs of glass pressing into his skin, ignoring the fact that his brother's smell is in fact long gone….he tries to go back.
He closes his eyes, resting his head on the worn down pillow, he wants go back to when his brother trusted him. Loved him, when they could go out and rent movies then come home to mom already having made popcorn. He wants to go back to the nights where he'd lay in this exact same position with his body curled around his brother's.
He wants to go back to a time when he could have been proud to have his brother hanging his picture.