Summary: After suffering a brutal attack, Jack is left alone in a dark alley.
Warnings: language
Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Author's Note: WOW! Once again I can't believe the response I've gotten! I'm a little short on time, so I can't leave everyone a personal message, but a HUGE thank you to everyone who left a review!! And an especially big thanks to Shanobi for making sure I didn't make any dumb mistakes! ;)

Vulnerable

Chapter Three

The shady figure hovering over Jack turned and motioned to another man, who emerged from the shadows and began his way toward them.

"Hey look, the piece of shit is still here."

Jack recognized the face, recognized the nauseating voice. It was the Nameless Man, and as the other figure stepped from the shadows he recognized his face, too. He was the quieter one of the two, more like the Nameless Man's personal sidekick, but he was equally terrifying.

A new wave of fear and dread washed over Jack, rising from the pit of his stomach and spreading through his body like poison. He did his best to scoot away from the men that were now towering over him, but his body wasn't working right and he only managed to move to the left a few inches. The two men laughed at his efforts, and all the hate Jack already had for them rose to a new high.

"Well ain't that something."

"He was waiting for us to come back for seconds," the Nameless man responded as he crouched down, placing two fingers under Jack's chin and raising his head so Jack would look him in the eye. "Ain't that right, pretty?"

Jack shut his eyes tightly, knowing that if he looked into the Nameless Man's fiery eyes any longer he'd vomit. He swallowed thickly, trying to find his voice, but then realizing he had nothing to say.

I need to get out of here.

Where the fuck is Bobby?

Is anyone going to save me?

The Nameless Man straitened to his full height once again. "It looks like our little toy here has gone mute."

Both men began to laugh at the lame joke, sending chills down Jack's spine.

A few tears escaped from his tightly closed eyes. "Help me... please..." he managed to barely whisper, but his small voice was drowned out from their cackling. He was quickly beginning to lose the little hope he had left.

&&&

Bobby returned to the car, slowly opening the door and sitting inside.

The blood wasn't Jack's.

He wasn't sure whether he should feel relief that it hadn't been his brother's blood splattered all over the sidewalk, or worry and frustration that Jack was still missing.

"Bobby?" Jerry asked softly, cutting into his brother's thoughts.

Bobby didn't answer him for a long time. He was too exhausted, too overwhelmed.

"It wasn't him."

Jerry let out a long sigh. "Thank God." Then, realizing that the trail had to lead to somewhere, or someone, he looked at Bobby again. "Who was it?"

Bobby just shook his head. "It wasn't him," he repeated again, more to assure himself than anything. With shaking hands, he fumbled with the keys until he found the right one to start the car. He felt like he was trapped in a nightmare, one where no matter how hard you try to wake up, you can't, and your worst fears keep playing over and over again in your mind.

"Maybe we should call it a night, Bobby," Jerry suggested, hoping his older brother would take it better than the last time he recommended that they go home. He saw Bobby's hands shaking, and it was starting to scare him slightly knowing just how wound up he was becoming. Now matter what, Bobby always kept his composure, making sure that no one ever saw his tough exterior falter.

Bobby rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He felt as if he had aged ten years in the past few hours. The unknown whereabouts of Jack was almost more than he could handle.

"Yeah," he said after another long, tense pause. "Maybe we should call it a night."

The drive home was eerily silent, and seemed to last hours. The empty, abandoned streets and buildings seemed to reflect the empty sadness in their hearts. Each was lost on what to do, what to think, and what to even say to each other.

"We're gonna find him," Bobby said suddenly as he turned the car off after parking in the street in front of their house.

Jerry nodded but said nothing, letting the silence fall back between them. It was almost like a cushion. If neither of them spoke, then they could pretend longer that everything would be okay.

Once inside the safety and familiarity of their home, Jerry quickly headed up to bed and Bobby opted to stay down in the kitchen. He was exhausted, but there was no way he would be able to fall asleep, not with the knowledge that his baby brother was missing and nowhere to be found.

After a few hours of sitting in the silence of the room, his thoughts began to switch from worrying if Jack was still alive to if it hurt when he was killed, but he quickly stopped himself. It had only been one night.

There was still a ray of hope that they'd find Jack before it was too late.

&&&

As the two men looked down at his pitiful form deciding what to do with him next, Jack wondered how anyone could be so cruel and heartless. He didn't even know these guys, and they sure as hell didn't know him.

So why'd they have to pick me?

"Get up," one of the men ordered. Jack's vision was starting to get blurry and dark around the edges, making him unsure of which one was talking to him.

Unable to do as he was told, Jack continued to limply slouch against the wall behind him that was currently serving as his entire support system.

"Are you fucking deaf now too? I said get up."

When Jack once again sat still, a pair of large, angry hands latched onto his shirt, pulling him up in one effortless motion. Jack began to scream out in pain, a deep, blood curdling scream, but one of the angry hands quickly covered his mouth, muffling his desperate cries.

"Shut up you little bitch."

Pain, hate, rage, and paralyzing fear all overwhelmed his body at once as the obscurity around the outside of his vision began to close in on him.

The pain was unbearable.

"Please God, just let me die..." he begged before succumbing to the darkness.

"Just let me die."

&&&

Glancing at the clock, Bobby found that it was already 7 in the morning. Realizing that Ma would be up soon, he decided he better pull himself together so he could be strong for her. She already had enough to worry about without adding him to the list.

Slowly making his way upstairs, Bobby walked into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind him. Looking in the mirror he saw how terrible he really looked.

"No wonder Jerry looked so freaked in the car," he mumbled aloud.

Turning on the faucet, he splashed cold water on his face to wake himself up a little, hoping it would somehow help his outer appearance. His mind wasn't ready to rest, but he knew his body desperately needed it after such an emotional night. He had already made a mental note to begin calling all the local hospitals and police stations to see if they'd brought in anyone matching Jack's description.

Pausing for a moment, he closed his eyes and whispered quietly, "Don't give up, Jackie. Please... don't give up."

&&&

When Jack opened his eyes again, he found himself in the same, dark van he had been thrown in before. They were taking him somewhere, probably some abandoned town where they could dump his dead body and know it would never be found.

Both men were sitting in the front seat, listening to the radio at an obnoxiously loud level. Clenching his teeth against the pain in an attempt to make as little noise as possible, Jack changed into a position that allowed him to see out the window. Relieved to find there were plenty of buildings and people around, Jack slouched back down in the seat. Neither of his kidnappers noticed he was awake, and Jack thought it'd be best to keep it that way. Closing his eyes once again and seemingly playing dead, he began to think of a plan.

He needed to get out of here and it was now or never.

He could open the door and jump out... there was enough people around to notice and come help. Lucky for him, the two men were dumb enough to leave him untied, thinking there was no way he could escape considering he was in such bad condition.

Seeing no other way out, Jack decided it was his only chance. After all, the van was a piece of shit and could probably only go about 45mph tops on a good day.

He took a deep breath, said a silent prayer, opened the door and jumped, landing on the concrete road with a loud thud and rolling several feet before coming to a complete stop. The van swerved slightly, but didn't stop, conveniently speeding away. Other vehicles dodged his body, and it was probably a miracle he didn't get hit.

People were rushing over to him now. A few were checking to see if he was even still alive while others were frantically dialing 911.

I made it, he thought, now glad God hadn't taken his life when he had begged him to.

Memories of his family began to float through his mind. Like the time he brought home his first A on a report card and Ma had been so proud of him that she actually picked him up in a gigantic hug and spun him around. And like the time when Bobby bought him his first guitar to make up for accidentally breaking his nose in a hockey game.

Maybe this is what they mean when they say you're life flashes before your eyes...

No, he couldn't die now. He had too much to live for.

That's the end of Chapter Three! Don't forget to let me know what you thoutght in a review!