-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Sounds in the Air

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Summary: Detroit may be a hard, violence-ridden place to live, but someone has to call the cops during a gunfight, right? Well, someone did, and the cops arrive in time to break up a fight that might still claim the life of Jack Mercer.

Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Four Brothers. I do not own the characters of the Mercer boys. I do, however, own common sense, which makes me question why these are necessary. Does anyone think they've found John Singleton on FFN trying to right his Jack-killing wrongs? No? I didn't think so.

Rating: PG-13? Light R? Honestly, if you've seen the movie, you're safe with me.

Chapter Count/Updates: There are five chapters to the story, but I reserve the right to fiddle with things later on. They're all written, I just need to go back over them to edit. I think I'll end up posting something like once a week.


-o-

-0-0-0-0-

Chapter One: Ringing

-0-0-0-0-

-o-

Bobby Mercer had been through more fights than he'd ever bothered to count. He might be a screw up in nearly every conceivable way, but he had always been in his element during a fight. Knives, fists, guns… none of that mattered to him. His mind could wrap around his opponent's and clear out any background noise or his body's own pain – just to win.

Never before had he been in this situation. Glass and bits of brick rained down on him and the bullets were flying around him so loudly he was sure his ears were going to ring by the end.

He had done this before. He'd gone to prison for this before.

Still, he could barely focus on anything but Jack's frantic, choked cries for him. He wanted to rush over there, to stop the bleeding, to get Jack to safety – to do anything to keep the Mercers from losing anything more than they had already. He couldn't do any of it though, and with every second that Jack was laying, dying, in the snow without Bobby, something inside of him was tensing tighter and tighter.

Get a grip, Asshole. Jack needs you focused, he needs you to end this, he needs you to win.

Bobby shot out of the hole that had been made in the brick, forcibly focusing his mind on the stakes. Between the bullets and La Vida Loca's shrill screaming, he almost missed a sound he'd never thought he would be happy to hear.

Sirens

The cops, an ambulance – any official short of the Animal Control guy was more welcomed than they had ever been. "Hang on Jack!" Bobby screamed as he took precious seconds to glance back at Angel shooting out of the front window. Their eyes locked and Bobby could see the relief in Angel's eyes.

Bobby crawled forward, intent on getting a visual on Jack. The bullets were gradually stopping, as the remaining thugs that they'd not yet killed – fucking bastards – heard the same sounds as Bobby and Angel and started heading to their van.

He refused to let them get away. If he couldn't kill the bastards that had hurt his little brother and shot up his mother's home, then he wanted to make sure that the cops could lock their asses away. He took aim at one of the van's tires and pulled the trigger.

Click

"Fuck!" Bobby quietly swore. Of course he'd run out of fucking bullets. The gunfire had almost completely faded as the cops' sirens got louder and he knew that the ones responsible were in their van.

It seemed almost like a joke when Jerry's family piece-of-shit van came out of nowhere, jumping over the snow covered curb to smash into the van trying to get away before the cops could get there. How often did answers to prayers include some Detroit version of a monster truck rally and, hopefully, severe injuries?

Bobby didn't think twice. He threw the gun aside and ran to Jack, barely bothering to turn his head to see Jeremiah getting out of his wrecked van without a scratch on him. Jack lay on his side in the snow, blood streaming out of the wound on his chest. Bobby dropped to his knees before his little brother. "Jack, Jackie, let me see."

Jack didn't say anything, his breathing already coming in painful sounding gasps and Bobby immediately knew that the bullet had somehow hit Jack's lung. Even though there looked to be blood coming down from Jack's hair, like he needed a god-damned head wound on top of everything else, Jack's eyes latched onto Bobby's and he pulled the hand that he'd had the presence of mind to clamp over his wound down to let Bobby see the rush of blood before his own hand covered his brother's wound. "Breathe, Jack, don't you dare fall asleep on me, you little fairy." Bobby said, not caring that his voice was shaking and that he was crying.

Blood started dribbling out of Jack's mouth as the cops pulled onto their street and Jerry collapsed into the snow next to them. Behind them, Bobby could hear Angel yelling for the ambulance to hurry.

"Bobby…" Jack gasped, more blood falling from his lips.

"Jerry, help me pull him up." Bobby commanded, trying to gently pull Jack forwards towards him. Jerry said nothing, tears streaming down his face too as he slid behind Jack while Bobby pulled.

Jack let out a strangled gasp, his face scrunching up in agony.

"Breathe Jack, you gotta breathe." Bobby pleaded.

Jack coughed, the wet sound making Bobby's heart beat faster. Jack was literally choking on his own blood. He hoped that sitting Jack up would help, but all the cough brought was yet more blood out of his little brother's mouth.

"Over here! Jack!" Angel yelled and Bobby heard, rather than saw, the EMT's suddenly surrounding them.

"Sir, please step back." One of the EMTs said, as if Bobby was going to leave Jack. Jerry, however, did as he was told, relinquishing his hold on Jack to let the other EMT move in.

Angel's hands pulled at Bobby. "Let them help him, Bobby. Get back."

Jack's eyes fluttered. "Jack!" Bobby barked and his brother's eyes snapped back open. "Stay awake. Don't you fucking die on me."

"Is his name Jack?" The EMT asked, "You need to give us room, sir."

Jerry nodded from above them. "He's Jack. He's our little brother, you have to help him."

"Is he allergic to anything?"

Bobby felt Angel's hands again, this time insistent, even as Jerry stood his ground to answer the EMTs' questions. He allowed Angel to pull him to his feet and a few shaky steps back from Jack, although their eyes never left their brother or the EMTs saying things to each other that made no sense to any one of them. Jerry staggered over to them. "Is he going to be okay?"

Neither of the EMTs said anything at first, trading grim looks. "We'll try our best." One finally said as they lifted Jack on the gurney.

"I'm coming." Bobby announced, stepping forward and out of Angel's grasp.

"We need room to work," The EMT said, pulling Jack away from them. Bobby could see that his brother's eyes were barely open, just slits leading to unfocused, pain-filled eyes.

"We'll follow." Jerry said loudly. Then, quietly to Bobby, he added, "They know how to save him better than us. Let them go."

"I'll drive you myself," Lt. Green said from behind them. "As soon as you answer a few questions."

Angel whirled around. "Are you fucking kidding me? Jack is going to the hospital and you wanna chit-chat?"

"I need to know what happened here." Green said, glancing at Bobby, who hadn't moved an inch since the doors to the ambulance closed. "Who fired the first bullet, Bobby?"

Bobby's jaw clenched. "Them," he said, watching the ambulance speed away, his little brother inside it. "They rang the doorbell, got Jack outside and shot him before we could do anything."

"They fired first?" Green repeated.

"You think I've got a habit having fucking shootouts at my house?" Bobby growled, turning around to face the other man.

Green held his hands in front of him, "I didn't say that. I don't think it either. I'm just getting things straight. Doorbell rang, Jack answered it, ran out…"

"And some asshole in a hockey mask shot him. Van pulled up and opened fire." Bobby finished as Sofi walked up, still crying, and put her arms around Angel.

"You don't know why they came? Who they work for?" Green asked.

"Victor Sweet" Jerry said, instantly.

Bobby turned to him, trying to glare. It was harder than it normally was. He was just that fucking relieved that Jerry and Angel were alive, it was hard to stay too mad.

Jerry didn't look bothered by Bobby's halfhearted glare. "Come on man. What's it matter?" He said, shooting his eyes between Bobby and Angel. He turned back to Green. "I didn't want to work with Sweet. I wanted to do things clean, turn Detroit around. I don't fucking care anymore. He had my mother killed, he might of ki-"

"Shut your fucking mouth, Jerry." Bobby ground out.

Jeremiah closed his eyes. "I ain't lying." He said, opening his eyes and fixing them on Green. "He's got people in his pocket all the way up to DC, Green. What are you gonna actually do about it?"

Green looked suddenly tense, as if he was piecing things together and didn't like the picture that was coming out. "I'll drive you to the hospital. This was self defense." He said, glancing at the bodies being zipped up in bags.

Bobby didn't turn away from the sight of his mother's lawn being defiled by the dead. He couldn't, not when he didn't regret a single bullet he fired or life he'd ended. They'd brought hell down onto his house and he'd given it right back.

I don't care who dies, as long as it isn't Jack.

Reviews are deeply appreciated. More Soon!