TITLE: Fear and Responsibility

CHAPTER/TITLE: Chapter One/ Changes

RATING: T (language and mature content)

A/N: Okay, okay, so similar stories have been done, but this one is just a little something I cooked up. I couldn't get it out of my brain so here it is, on paper, or computer screen, technically. It's going to be short and sweet, nothing dragging out. It's about Bobby, yes, but it is VERY heavily focused on the Bobby/Jack brother relationship.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Four Brothers or anything witty to say here.

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Chapter One: Changes

Jack absentmindedly rubbed his knee as he lay lazily across the couch. He had endured the seemingly endless surgeries and had long since completed his infuriating physical therapy sessions. Still, almost a year after two bullets had taken up temporary residence in his left leg, he could still feel the pain from the day. Sometimes it was severe, but mostly it was minor. The doctors had told him it was a miracle he could walk and his current discomfort was nowhere near what he had suffered that day in the snow. Now it was merely an echo of the agony. And every time the aching echoed, so did the memory. If that's all he had to bear after being shot four times, then Jack would gladly take it. That day could have ended far differently and each brother knew that.

That knowledge drove the four brothers to make a few changes in each of their lives. Jerry came over to the family home as often as he possibly could to assist in the repairs and spend time with his brothers. He also realized his dreams were still in real estate, but from a much different setting. He returned to his childhood love and began working as a construction worker. He promised both his families that he was going to become an architect. When Angel was asked to return to the Marines he declined and took a job alongside his older brother, his eye on a project manager position. He even proposed to Sofi, who had all but taken up permanent residence in the Mercer home. Jack didn't return to New York when he was finally healed. He wasn't that person anymore. There were enough clubs, bars and venues in Detroit to allow him to continue playing for the public, but on a smaller scale and closer to home.

Bobby, they all believed, was the most changed of them all. It had been almost a year and still here he was, not making plans to leave or even mentioning it. Bobby Mercer rarely stayed in one place for too long. He had been hopping around the country ever since he turned 18, and by Evelyn's contingency, received his GED. Most of the times he was forced to leave a city were due to his inherent knack for getting into trouble. Since putting Sweet down and lying to the police Bobby had been the closest to a model citizen he was probably capable of being. He stayed out of fights and hadn't been in a single high speed chase since they hunted down their mother's killers. The eldest Mercer was even holding down a mechanic job, picking up shifts at Johnny's when he needed the extra cash and sometimes helped out Jerry and Angel if they were running behind on a job.

It seemed that the Mercer brothers were all finally settling down.

Jack was still massaging his leg when the banging erupted. He flinched at the sudden sound. Jack would never not start at the knocking of a door, not anymore. Jack grunted and heaved himself off the couch. Peeling back the curtains, Jack peered out at a woman and small boy standing outside their door. With a confused curse, Jack cracked open the door and squinted out into the midday sun at the strangers.

"Is Bobby here?"

She didn't offer Jack a greeting, or even a smile. She was disheveled, to say the least. Her hair was thin and almost too straight. It hung lifelessly around her possibly once pretty face. She possessed the eyes of someone twice her age, but also of someone who was once beautiful. Jack could almost envision them the way the once were, sparkling with fire and life. Now they were dead, vacant chasms of hopelessness, of too many things seen. Jack recognized that look. He also recognized the way her clothes hung off her almost skeletal body. Her striking ivory skin that years earlier was most likely flawless, was now decorated with marks. Jack knew those too.

"Who –"

"Is he here?" The woman demanded defiantly, yet with a hint of desperation.

Jack backed away inside the house and cocked his head toward the stairs, calling out for Bobby. His eldest brother would be far from pleased for being awoken after bartending the previous night. Jack just hoped he wouldn't kill him in front of the woman and child.

It was several very long and very awkward moments before a grumbling and staggering Bobby made his sleepy descent down the stairs.

"I swear, Jack, if you –" Bobby stopped mid-sentence, and then mid-step.

His previously heavy and sleep slathered eyes were now wide and staring at the woman in such a way that Jack had never seen Bobby look at anyone.

"Hi, Bobby," the woman's voice was far more fragile when she addressed Bobby than how she had spoken to Jack.

There was an entire world of fear and pain and guilt behind those two words.

Bobby forcibly swallowed, his eyes almost mechanically shifting from the woman to the boy at her side and then back.

"Jack," Bobby's voice was far too controlled for Jack's comfort. "Go upstairs."

Jack didn't hesitate. Bobby was about to explode and Jack didn't desire to be caught in the blast. He turned just a bit took quickly and his knee painfully protested. A white flash of agony coursed through his entire body. The next thing Jack knew, he was in his brother's arms at the foot of the stairs.

"–ack, you good?"

Jack blinked away the blindness and nodded as Bobby helped him to his feet.

"You takin' your meds?" It was more of an accusation than a question.

Jack shook his head. There was no point in trying to lie to Bobby.

"Damn it, Jack," Bobby's focus had entirely shifted, nearly forgetting about the duo on his doorstep. "You're supposed to be usin' that cane, too, on your bad days."

"Like fu –" Jack paused, eyeing the kid, "I ain't usin' no da – stupid cane."

"You will or I'll beat you over the head with it," Bobby warned. "You already bailed on therapy."

"They said I could go," Jack shrugged.

"Yeah, but they also said you shouldn't," Bobby added with a shake of his head but then took his brothers shoulders and spoke in almost a whisper. "We talked about this, Jackie. You, Jerry n' Angel are all I got. I can't lose you. We got to get it together. All 'a us. You got to take care 'a yourself, man."

This was something else that had changed since the shooting. Bobby would never stop ribbing his brothers, but he allowed for more of these moments now – and so did they.

Jack just nodded, bowing his head solemnly as he did so.

"Now get the hell upstairs, take your damn meds and play some 'a that fairy music I hate."

Jack silently obeyed as he headed up the steps.

"And use the rail!" Bobby barked up at his brother who was bounding up the stairs far too fast for his liking.

Bobby turned back around and was swiftly reminded of the shock he had received mere moments earlier.

"I knew I was right," the woman smiled almost sweetly.

"What the hell are you doin' here, Lisa?" Bobby paused and looked her over properly this time. "And what the hell happened to you?"

"I knew I was right," she repeated, ignoring Bobby's bathing of questions. "You were always so good with Jack, with all them, all your brothers. I knew I could count on you with this."

"With that?" Bobby demanded, ignoring the screaming voice inside his head that already knew the answer. "What're you doin' here?"

"Bobby," Lisa brought her trembling hand down on the boy's shoulder. "This is your son."