A/N: So I just the movie Four Brothers and am somewhat in love. I wrote this. I guess it's crappy, but it is my first go in this fandom.
If I write anymore, I think the recurring theme song will be "Breathe Me" by Sia. Listen to it while you read, if you can.
Please read and review. Thanks.
(need i say no slash intended?)
Forced Into a Nutshell
All Jack wanted was Bobby.
He was afraid... so afraid. He was cold, lying out here alone while these strangers filled the air with bullets. His chest was weighed down with pain, and the noise was greater than he had ever heard before. He was scared, he was just scared.
"Bobby!" he screamed. "Bobby!"
Please come get me. Please don't let them hurt me anymore. Please.
He screamed and screamed, but inside he was whispering. Why wasn't Bobby with him? Why wasn't his brother coming? He was coming – right?
It was too loud. It was all too loud, and these men were strangers without real faces. Too many guns and too many gunshots. He was scared. So scared. He just didn't want to be alone. Not like this.
"Bobby!"
Please come save me.
"I'm coming, Jackie!" he heard his brother say, faintly.
He stopped screaming. He let the snow beneath him sink into his bones and begin to numb him. He let himself bleed and cry. But he stopped screaming. He believed his brother.
Bobby.
A devil warmth began to rise into his throat, spread across his chest, sink down into his stomach. He felt his arm failing, and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hold Bobby's hand.
When his brothers reached him, he was still afraid and still in pain and cold. But comfort washed over him, and he edged toward readiness. He felt their presences like a new warmth, covering his insides and beating that devil kind. He had never seen Bobby cry like that, and it made him feel guilty.
He wanted to say – so many things. He wanted to tell Bobby and Jerry and Angel – but especially Bobby – that he loved them. He wanted to thank them for being his only family. He wanted them to hold him before he grew too numb to feel anything.
But all he could do was look at Bobby. That warmth – devil's and brother's – bubbled out of his mouth. He cried now because he couldn't speak, not because of fear. He looked and looked at his brother, because Bobby was the last thing he wanted to see on this hell of an earth. His brother – crying for him, out of love.
Call me Jackie one last time.
He wanted to thank Bobby for touching him because it felt like salvation. He wanted to ask him not to let go.
Damn it. Damn this for ending the wrong way.
He wept and felt free.
This warmth was always supposed to be for you, Bobby. The good warmth. I was always saving it for you.
Bobby was begging him to breathe. But Jack couldn't, he couldn't, he was too cold. His lungs were numbing up, and he decided it was okay. If he had to die, there was no better way than this: surrounded by the only three people left that loved him, the only three people who he had ever loved.
Besides – his ma. She was waiting for him.
