Disclaimer: nope, don't own four brothers… though I wish I did…
a/n: I know, I don't usually do oneshots. But I felt like doing one, so here you go! Happy late Christmas! Or happy holidays. Whatever you celebrate, hope you have/had a good one!
Bobby sat at the bar, shot in hand. It's been two whole weeks. Two weeks since he saw his baby brother shot down. Two weeks since he took out the man responsible for not only the death of his baby brother, but that of his mother and countless others as well.
Two weeks since Bobby'd been able to get a decent night's sleep.
Which was why he was at the bar this particular night, rather than snug in his bed. Or someone else's, for that matter. With a sigh, he tipped the shot back into his throat before slamming the shot glass onto the bar. With a nod to the bartender, he slid from the stool and made for the door. The cold Detroit air hit him like a brick as he stepped out into the night and began the walk home.
Home. It had been a long time since he'd thought of any place he stayed at as home. And it figured that it would be the same place it's always been. Bobby was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the shouts of the brawling pair until he was nearly on top of them.
"Stupid bitch!" the man shouted as he held the woman against the wall by her collar. His face was inches from hers. "What the fuck's your problem?"
"What are you talking about, Derrick?" the woman asked, her voice shaky.
Bobby ducked into the alley to watch them, doing his best not to get involved.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Derrick shouted. "Don't even try to deny that you've been fucking Jason!"
"What?" the woman cried. "Where would you get that kind of idea? I'm not sleeping with Jason."
"Don't you lie to me!" he yelled, slapping her across the face. She cried out and he reared back to do it again when Bobby made himself known.
"Is there a problem here, miss?" he asked, no longer able to watch.
Derrick looked around until his drunken eyes landed on Bobby. "This is none of your business," Derrick slurred, pointing at Bobby before turning back to the woman.
"I was asking the lady," Bobby said, ignoring Derrick, whom had let her down from the wall. The lady rubbed her throat and looked from Derrick to Bobby, her face hardening on the former.
"Lady?" Derrick scoffed. "I don't see no lady."
"Do you think you would mind walking me home, sir?" she asked Bobby, completely ignoring Derrick.
"Not a problem, ma'am," Bobby replied, offering her his arm
"Now wait just a minute," Derrick started. And that's as far as he got, because then it was his turn to be held up against the wall by the throat.
"Now you wait just a minute," Bobby said. "The lady asked me to walk her home, and that's what's gonna happen. You got a problem with that?"
Derrick shook his head, and Bobby set him down. Bobby again held out his arm to the woman and she led him back the way he had come.
"Thank you, sir," she said about a block later.
"Not a problem," Bobby said. "And the name's Bobby."
"Emily," she said. They walked in silence for a few more blocks before she turned to a rundown old building. "Thanks for saving me back there," she said, turning to him.
"Any time," Bobby said, staring at what appeared to be the beginnings of a shiner. "Are you gonna be okay alone?" he asked.
"Oh I wasn't planning on staying," she said. "I was just gonna get some stuff and sleep in my truck."
"In the middle of December in Detroit?" he asked, astounded. Emily nodded. "I don't think so. You can come stay with me for the night."
"Really?" she asked. Bobby nodded. "Thank you!" She said, throwing her arms around him in a hug.
"Uh, no problem," he said, uncertain at the show of affection. "How 'bout we go get that stuff of yours before what's-his-face shows up?"
"Good idea," she said, letting go instantly. She turned to unlock the door, and, at the same time, hiding a blush.
They made their way inside and up three flights of stairs before reaching a white door with a brass '3A' front and center. She unlocked a series of deadbolts before opening the door and motioning him into the small, one bedroom apartment. She left him in the living room as she went around gathering some of her things and putting them into a small luggage set. She walked back into the living room to see Bobby lounging on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
"You ready?" he asked, no looking at her. Emily nodded, and he jumped off the couch. "Let's go then."
Emily grabbed a set of keys off the kitchen counter and led the way out of the apartment, not bothering to lock it back up. She led him out a back door and into a parking lot, to an old beat up Chevy truck. She threw her bags in the bed and they got into the cab.
"Where to?" she asked, turning on the truck. As the truck idled, Bobby gave her directions to the house that was his mother's before she died. They rode in silence to the house, and Emily parked in the driveway. This time it was Bobby's turn to lead her to the door. He led her into the living room and tossed a blanket and pillow on the couch.
"The kitchen's over there, the bathroom's upstairs," he said, pointing in the proper directions. "If you need anything, my rooms upstairs, second door on the left. Oh, and one of my brother's and his girl live here too, so don't be surprised if you see them in the morning." Emily nodded.
"Thanks again, Bobby," Emily said. Bobby shrugged.
"It's what Ma would've done," Bobby said, heading up the stairs.
"Good night!" Emily said after him.