A/N: Alright, so a little short, but it was the right place to end it. : ) Besides, I figure with all the updates, I'm entitled to a few short ones here and there. Anyways... Thanks for reading, thanks for all the GREAT reviews! I really really appreciate them all, and special shout-outs to (as always) Al Harris, ducttapeandladybugsandboredom, and all of my other reviewers. Y'all are great. : )


Evelyn gave Bobby a few minutes, before following him outside. As she expected, he was sitting on a bench, a cigarette dangling from one lip, a vicious expression on his face as he tapped one foot against the pavement. Other than the tapping foot, he was completely still.

She sighed as she sat down next to him. "Bobby… I'm not going to try and give you the usual comforting nonsense that people say at times like these. Like 'sometimes, life just isn't fair'. 'Can't change the past'. 'Life goes on'. Or one of my favorites, 'everything happens for a reason'. Do you know why I'm not going say any of that to you, Bobby?"

Bobby scoffed as he moved just enough to flick his cigarette. " 'Cause it's fuckin' bullshit?" He offered sarcastically, his voice low, and practically humming with anger.

Evelyn nodded. "That's right, Bobby. Because they're all just so much fucking bull shit. Life is never fair in your favor. People could have stopped what happened in the past if they cared enough to try. Sometimes, life doesn't go on for some poor unfortunate soul. And every time I look at you, or one of your brothers, I'm reminded that sometimes, people do things just because they're sick, twisted people, Bobby."

Bobby rolled his eyes, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he flicked his cigarette again. "Ma, this ain't about me, so don't try and make it 'bout me, a'ight?" He snapped, not looking at her.

Evelyn smiled as she set her hand on his back. "But it is about you, Bobby. When I was sitting with Jack earlier, looking at him… In a way, Bobby, it was like looking at you again. And at first, I thought maybe that was why you wanted to help this boy so much. But then I realized, that –while there were similarities –Jack wasn't like you. Not really. And do you know, I spent the better part of two hours trying to figure out why this boy, out of all the children I've ever helped, you decided to latch on to like this.

"I mean, you get attached to all the kids, Bobby. I know that. But there's something different about this one. I mean, you're actually willingly working with Conor Britton, and that's something I thought I'd see only when Hell froze over. So I couldn't figure it out. Then, just a few minutes ago, I realized what it was."

Bobby snorted as he lit another cigarette. "Really. Care to share? 'Cause I'm at a fuckin' loss here, ma."

"I realized… Jack's what you could have been, had somebody stepped in sooner. Had Jenny not died. Had I gotten to you just a little bit sooner. He's got the potential to turn into you, Bobby. How much more would it have taken to push Jack down the same path you traveled? A few extra 'clients'? A few more months? One more time of their step-father going after his brother? What do you think it would have taken, Bobby?"

Bobby was silent for a few minutes, puffing away at his cigarette, before he finally looked over at the woman who'd been the only mother he'd ever known.

"I gotta go talk to the kid."


"Hey! Jackie poo! Up and at 'em, kid."

Bobby allowed himself a small smile as the kid flew off the bed he was sitting on.

"What?! What the hell?!" Jack demanded, glaring at Bobby.

"Listen up, and listen good, kid, 'cause I don't got a whole hell of a lotta time. Your folks disappeared. Weren't at the house when we went to get 'em. Any idea where they'd go?"

Jack's face paled. "They left? With Mikey? Did you –"

"Check the basement? Yeah, Jackie, checked the whole damn house. Nice room by the way. But look, if we wanna find your brat brother before step-daddy disappears into L.A., we gotta move fast."

Jack looked up, tears in his eyes, but a hopeful look on his face. "Do you… do you really think you can find him?"

Bobby shrugged. "Depends on how much you tell me, and how fast. Pete a dealer?"

"Drug dealer?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "No kid, a fuckin' car dealer. Yeah a drug dealer."

"Uh… not a dealer, but he uses."

"Uses what? Blow, smack, crack, acid, Mary J, speed, angel dust?"

"Mostly H, and acid. Sometimes coke and weed," Jack said uncomfortably, his mind seeming to slip away.

"Hey! Take a trip down nightmare lane later, kid. We gotta move fast. You know Pete's dealer?"

"Dunno his real name. Everybody always calls him Little T."

A feral smile came to Bobby's face. "How often Pete use?"

"I dunno. Couple times a day. Why, you think you can track down Little T, and see if he knows where they are?" Jack asked excitedly.

"Can do one better, kid. Don't have to track him down. Just gotta find a phone. If Pete ain't already grabbed his dope, we're fuckin' golden."

"Really?!" Jack jumped off the bed in excitement. "For real?"

"Yeah. Me and Tyrone grew up together," Bobby said, moving towards the exit. "We're gonna get your brother back, kid. I promise. And I'm gonna get you outta here."

Jack looked at him, a mixture of curiosity and hope on his face. "Really? But your mom said –"

"I know what she said. But I ain't my ma, kid. I'm gonna get you outta here."

"Find my brother first. I'll be alright," Jack said, and Bobby grinned at the tone of his voice. Kid wasn't trying to convince Bobby, he was trying to convince himself.

"Yeah, I know you will, kid. Just… keep to yourself, and don't look anybody in the eye, a'ight? You'll be fine. I shouldn't be more than a couple of hours."