Jack looked out, and gave a small smile. 'Snow' he thought a memory from his past coming in his head. He never heard what was being said or any sound. When he did flash to the time at the orphanage, it was like watching a muted film.

He was playing with his best friend, both boys were nine. When the boy turned his back to watch some of the other children, Jack had gathered some snow in his hand, rolled it into a ball, and thew it at him, hitting his target. The second boy turned, clenching his fist, his silver eyes flashing angrily at Jack, who was rolling on the ground, silently laughing. Then, his face took on a mysterious look.

Without Jack noticing, he had gathered as much as the wet, cold snow he could and thew it on him. Jack yelled something, and chased after his friend. Both boys were grinning as they ran. Jack eventually caught up, and tackled the taller boy.

A crash coming from the door jarred Jack from the memory. He took an fighter's stance as soon as he saw the men. There were six of them. "If only Spenser was here,' Jack shook his head. He had not seen his friend or even heard from him since they had that fight three days ago.

One of the men headed for him, but Jack blocked the blow before it landed. Mentally he considered how long he could fight before he was over powered. He knew he could take three men on his own before he grew too tired. Like the rest of his family, Jack was solidly built, and a very skilled fighter. As soon as he got the chance, he aimed a blow at one man's temple. as planned, the man crumpled. They kept coming right at him. For Jack, it was like a whirl-wind. He blocked blows, and dodged when he could, making sure he was able to land some of his own.

Suddenly a cloth was over his mouth and nose, a sickly sent assaulted him. He then knew what was going on. They were not trying to rob the house, they were kidnapping him. Jack tried to pull the hand away, but it was too late.

Spenser sighed as he closed his eyes. Of the past three days, he could not shake the feeling Jack needed him. Maybe it was how depressed Jack sounded on the radio program he did. Maybe he should go see him tomorrow. No sooner did he think that he fell to sleep.

He was eight as he listened to his father talking excitedly with his best friend on a case. Suddenly his dad turned to him. "Spenser, why don't you go to your mother. What Joseph and I need to talk about is important, my son." Spenser pouted, but agreed.

"Yes, Father."

When he was in the room with the girls, his mother, Savanna laughed.

"I know what you mean, Annie. But you are going to have to accept it eventually. Sotos started preparing Spenser here when he was just six. It is only fair for Joseph to start Jack's training at the same time. He will have to come here eventually."

"Who's Jack?" Before his mom could answer, there was a sound as if someone was trying to kick open the door. They ran to where the men were. Joseph was loading his revolver while Sotos was cursing under his breath. "Savanna, Annie, take Spenser and hide. Joseph," Before he could tell his friend to go with them, he shook his head.

"I am not leaving you, my friend. Nothing you say is going to change that." Sotos, sighed in defeat, knowing the determined look in his friend's eyes. Hurriedly the girls went into an enclosed space.

"Don't come out, no matter what happens."

"But,"

"Don't come out no matter what happens!" With that, Sotos left. The door sounded like it exploded. There were shouts and the sound of guns firing. Suddenly, there was a click. 'One of them must have run out of shots.' Spenser thought. Then there was another shot and a offt. "Joseph!" Spenser never heard such fear and pain in his dad's voice before.

He looked at Annie, she was pale white. "No, NO!" she ran out, despite his mom's cries.

"Spenser, stay here." She ran after her friend. "Savanna, Annie! What?" Suddenly there was three more shots. Spenser whimpered after the door closed. Then he started to scream.

"NOOO!" Spenser sat straight upright, and ran his hand through his short black hair. He looked up. Standing in the doorway was a twelve-year-old version of Jack. He closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them again, the memory was gone. He laid back down, though he doubted he would get anymore sleep tonight.

Okay, um yeah just a little back ground at the end.

Italic= Spenser's memories

Italic bold= Jack's memories

bold= Spenser's dream