Disclaimer: I don't own Four Brothers, or it characters, or anything else that isn't mine (no duh!)
Warning: There will be mentions of Jack past throughout the story, so if you any issues, with that kind of stuff, here's your warning. Also, Bobby Mercer also appears in this story (Thank god!), so yes, there will be bad language.
Bobby was disappointed. He would never admit it, but that didn't make it any less true. He couldn't explain why, but he had hoped that Jack would be awake when they came back. When it was all over. When Sweet was dead. He felt like Jack should be awake, so they could finally move on. Hell, they might even get a chance to fix up the house. They all had tried to do some work whenever they weren't at the hospital with Jack, or in Angel and Jerry's case, with Sofi or Camille. If Jack were awake, maybe Bobby would feel so alone?
As Bobby walked into Jack's room, he silently clenched his fist. He couldn't help the anger he felt upon see his brothers broken body. He was so pale, and so still. It was unlike Jack. He always seemed to be moving, or fiddling with something. It annoyed the hell out of Bobby. He remember when Jack got his first guitar. The house wasn't silent until Bobby had threatened to break the god damned thing into two.
Bobby sat down in his usual spot, by Jack's bed, while Angel stood near the door. Jerry had gone home to be with Camille and the girls. Angel muttered something about going for coffee before leaving the room. Then again, he had never been comfortable with just sitting around. Slowly, he reached forward, taking Jack's hand in his own. Shutting his eyes, he squeezed Jack's hand.
"Come on Jack…Wake up, wake up.", he quietly begged.
The next day Bobby was still sitting in the chair. He was slouched back, with the remote in his hand, eyes on the television. The small screen was showing a hockey game, or trying at least. The screen flickered between black and white, and colour. Angel moved to reposition the aerial, again. The picture disappeared completely, before returning, completely black and white. Bobby waved his hand at Angel, making a face. Angel made one back, before returning to his seat.
"Bobby Mercer."
"Ya?", Bobby said, rising from his seat. Angel also stood. A man entered the small hospital room. He was white, tall, slim, and had dark hair. He was wearing a suit and Bobby automatically knew he was some form of detective.
"My names Detective Cooper", Bobby smiled to himself. "Do you mind if we step outside for a moment?", Cooper asked.
"Why?", Bobby replied, playing dumb.
"I'm sure you know why I'm here, Mr. Mercer .. I really think we should step outside.", Cooper persisted.
"The cops already talked to us, Detective", Bobby mocked. "Anything else you want to say you can say right here.", Bobby's tone was almost challenging.
"We have some follow up questions for you and your brothers, now if you would mind…?", Cooper gestured to outside the door. Bobby just stood there, a small smile of his face, just to piss Cooper off. Bobby continued to stand without moving, while Cooper shifted his weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortably. "Ok, then", Cooper muttered, moving towards Bobby. "I am placing you and your brothers under arrest in connection to the case of missing persons Victor Sweet.". Grabbing Bobby's arm, he secured his hands with handcuffs. Another cop entered the room and handcuffed Angel.
"All my bro's? 'Cos I really don't think Jackie-poo here is up for it", Bobby glanced at his little brother, as the detective pulled him out the door. He was just getting started.
"I really think now would be a good time for you to be quiet.", Cooper muttered almost to himself. He had heard about the Mercer brothers. Nearly every law enforcer in Detroit had.
"Unless you want to wheel him out with us? Maybe push him down the fuckin' street to the station?", Bobby was getting agitated. Cooper started to think that maybe handcuffs hadn't been the best idea.
"Bobby…", Angel warned, sensing his brother was going to get himself in trouble.
"You arrest Jerry too?", Bobby questioned, as Cooper lead him out of the hospital. "Bust into his house? Arrest him in front of his wife and kids? Maybe if the cops around here could do their fuckin' jobs for a change, you wouldn't need to be coming after us, who solved your fuckin' case, while you were in some club with a fuckin' hooker wrapped around your waist!"
"That's enough!", Cooper demanded, clearly pissed. He shoved Bobby's head into the back of the car.
"You fuckin' wish!", Bobby shouted, as he spotting Angel being pushed into the back of the car beside the one he was in. He leaned his head against the cool window, as the car pulled away. He watched the condensation on the window where his breath met the cold glass. He smiled, reminded of his little brother.
"Get me my property!", Bobby shouted over the desk. Jerry and Angel both walked over towards him, having been released earlier.
"You tell them anything?", Angel asked. Jerry stood beside him, clearly worried.
"Nope", Bobby said, not bothering to look at either of his brothers.
"Hey Bobby", Jerry started. "Angel and Sofi are coming over to my place for a while…Camille made dinner. And we were just thinking maybe you'd like to come to.? Get a decent meal, shower, maybe even catch a couple hours sleep?", Jerry suggested.
"Nope", Bobby replied, still looking over the counter.
"Come on man, you're a mess!", Angel argued. "Jack'll be fine by himself for a little while. He's got all those doctors and-" Angel stopped, spotting the look on his brothers face.
"I said no!", Bobby swiped the small plastic bag off the counter, containing the few bits and pieces that was in his pocket when they had taken him in. He ripped through the plastic, and quickly putting the contents into his pocket, before turning and walking away. One of the items caught Angel's eye. Jack's rosary beads.
"Bobby, I really think it would be a good idea", Jerry persisted, Taking a few steps to catch up with his brother. "What would Ma' say if she saw you like this?"
"What would Ma' say?", Bobby stopped and turned to Jerry. He was pissed. "What would Ma' say if she knew I got Jack shot? What would she say if she saw what we let happen to her house? Or Jack's blood on the sidewalk in front of it? It wasn't your name that he was screaming Jerry! It wasn't you name that he was screaming in pain as he bleed out on the fucking sidewalk!" With that, Bobby turned and walked out the front door. Jerry or Angel didn't go after him. It was pointless, and they knew where to find him, if they needed him.
It had been ten days. Ten days since the last time Jack was awake. Ten days since shooters had shown up at their mother house. Ten days since Bobby had a decent nights sleep. Ten days, and Bobby was fucking sick of it.
It was just him at the hospital tonight. Angel and Jerry would come visit during the day, although Jerry would never be able to stay for long. He would "have work", or need to "pick up the girls", from whatever crazy activity they had on that particular day of the week. Last time Bobby actually bothered to listen, it had been dance lessons. Angel would usual stay most of the day, only going home to be with Sofi in the evenings. Bobby on the other hand would spend all night in the hospital. He would sleep in the morning, only leaving once Angel or Jerry had showed up, and return in the afternoon, not to leave until the next morning. He had established a routine, and now he was sure what we would do if Jack woke up. When Jack woke up, he reminded himself. The toll of his routine was clearly showing. Bobby's hair was in need of a hair cut, and he could do with a shave. There were black bags under his eyes, and they appeared sunken. He had lost weight too. He had tried his hardest not to make it obvious, but Jerry and Angel had noticed.
Glancing over at his brother, Bobby had no way to tell if Jack was doing any better then he had been. He was still hooked up to machines, and wires, and drips, and god knows what else. The only visible change was that the doctors had taken the ventilator out a couple of days after Bobby's second visit to the police station. Bobby had hoped that would have meant Jack would wake up - his lungs were strong enough to breath on their own - but there was still no sign of life behind Jack's closed eyes.
Bobby sat back in his chair. Digging into his pocket, he'll pulled out Jack's rosary beads. Spinning them around his fingers, he wondered where the fuck Jack had got them? It sure as hell wasn't from a church. Religion wasn't big among the Mercer brothers. He probably got them off some groupie chick in New York. Bobby couldn't help but smiled at the thought. Back when things were easier. When his biggest worry was running a strip joint in Chicago, not wondering if his little brother was still going to be there tomorrow. The only reason he came back to Detroit was to bury the fucker that killed his mother. He never thought that he might lose a brother too. He couldn't lose a brother too.
After a few minutes the rosary beads slipped through Bobby's fingers, and onto the ground. His head rested on his chest, as he, unable to get his eyes open any longer, drifted into a light sleep.
Jack hugged his knees closer to his chest. It was cold, and dark, and damp, and his clothes were far too light for his liking. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Anywhere but here.
Jack had dived into the wardrobe when he heard the heavy steps coming up the stairs. So heavy that they could only mean one thing: drunk. Or worse. Jack had tried hiding under the bed before, but now he knew to check there, that hiding spot was no good anymore. Hopefully this new spot would take longer to find. Give Jack a few moments more. Maybe, if he was really drunk, he might pass out before finding Jack, Jack dared to hope.
"Jack!", Jack opened his eyes, as he heard the voice enter the room. He looked through the slits in the door in the wardrobe, to see a large silhouette standing over his bed, where he had been just moments ago. His chest began to rise and fall quicker and quicker. He could hear his own heartbeat. It felt as if it was going a hundred miles an hour. He resisted the urge to vomit as the panic settled in his stomach.
"Come out, come out wherever you are…", the voice taunted. Jack pushed himself further into the closet. Anything to get away. He shut his eyes, and slowly rocked himself back and forth.
Not real, not real, not real… he repeated his mantra over and over again in his mind. He retreated further into himself, further into his mind, leaving reality behind. But the problem was it was real, and reality always came back to bite you in the ass. No amount of wishing was going to make it go away.
Jack slowly opened his eyes, to see the large silhouette blocking any light from entering the wardrobe. Jack readied himself to fight, knowing what was going to happen next. What always happened. Jack couldn't suppress the shudders at the sound of his voice.
"Got'cha."
"Ma' …", Jack groaned. Bobby suddenly sat up straight in his chair. It was the middle of the night, and he was the only one at the hospital, as usual.
"Jack?", Bobby questioned, struggling to keep the hope out of his voice. Reaching forward, he grasped Jack's hand. "Jack?"
"Mom…", Jack cried out, flinching in his sleep.
"Jack wake up! You gotta wake up!", Bobby squeezed his hand. He could recognise one of Jack's night terrors anywhere, even if Jack hadn't had one in years. "Wake up Jackie. Open your eyes.", Bobby begged. Slowly, Jack opened his eyes.
"Bobby?", Jack tried to say, his voice hoarse, and scratchy. Bobby quickly handed him the cup of water on his bedside locker, helping him to drink from it. Bobby furiously blinked back the tears as he watched his little brother, up and awake again.
"You look like shit.", Jack stated.
See! Longer then Chapter 1!
I wasn't really happy with this chapter :/ It took me a long time to get out, but it was necessary to set up the rest of the story, so I hope you'll stay tuned for the next chapter, which hopefully, will be posted a little bit quicker :P
Please read and review! Even a word or two is appreciated!
R&R
