A/N: Hello there you awesome, spectacular readers! I can't believe I reached my last chapter already! I've never written something so fast and efficient in my entire life. You guys were a big part of that so thank you a million times! And now, without any further ado, here is the twelfth and final chapter….

Chapter 12:

"This it?"

"Yeah."

Bobby drove past the house, turned and then parked across the street. He cut the engine and for a few moments they just sat there in silence. The house was completely dark and there were no cars parked around it. To anyone else it would look deserted. Anyone else would have turned and went back home, deeming it a lost cause. But Bobby Mercer knew better.

"Bobby," Angel began, looking back and forth from the house to his brother.

Bobby was turned in his seat, his gaze fixed on the house. "What?"

"Do you think Chester skipped out?" he asked, a tiny hint of nervousness in his voice.

Bobby shook his head without speaking. His fists were clenched and white-hot anger coursed through his body. Jerry shared a look with Angel and then turned to his brother, his voice soft and tentative.

"He could have skipped out," Jerry said. He sure wanted it to be true. He had a bad feeling about it and he didn't want to go through with it.

"He didn't fucking skip out," Bobby snapped, finally looking at them. He was annoyed and it showed. "Chester knows I'm coming. He's fucking ready and waiting." Bobby pushed open the door and got out only looking back in for a second to say, "Let's fucking go."

Bobby slammed the door and began to make his way across the street to the dark house. Jerry and Angel shared another look. Jerry shrugged and then opened the door to follow Bobby, the black bag weighing him down slightly. Angel sighed to himself and muttered under his breath before getting out.

"Fuckin' Bobby!"

Once they were almost much at the front door, Bobby stopped. Jerry raised his eye-brows but didn't speak. Were they supposed to just waltz through the front door like they owned the place? He studied Bobby, wondering what his brother's idea of "winging it" would be this time. He and Angel stood a few inches behind him, sharing glances constantly. There was a tense silence for a few seconds. Then suddenly Bobby took a step back and kicked the front door open with full force. It burst open and slammed hard against the wall inside. Jerry and Angel stared at him in awed disbelief as he walked inside the house. They followed him silence. The first floor seemed empty though it was hard to see with no light.

"We should have bought a fucking flashlight," Angel said.

"Shut-up!" Bobby snapped, leading the way through the house.

A deep, evil voice suddenly came out of the darkness behind them

"Bobby Mercer."

...

Jack rounded the corner of the street just as Bobby and his brothers were walking up to Mark and Chester's front door. He made a mad dash for Bobby's car and he dove behind it, crouching low so no one would see him. If Bobby saw that he had followed him, he'd smack him upside the head, call him a fucking idiot and make him wait in the car. Jack wasn't about to let that happen. He was sixteen for Christ's sake; he could take care of himself-his being kidnapped notwithstanding. So he waited. When Bobby kicked the door open, he jumped in spite of himself. Bobby's sheer strength and aggressiveness still frightened him at times.

His brothers disappeared inside and it was time to keep going. He stood up suddenly and for moment had to brace himself against the car. Another dizzy spell hit him and for a few moments he felt like he might throw up. He shut his eyes tight and forced himself to breathe deeply; in and out, in and out, until the pain went away. He knew he should be at home resting but this was something he just knew he had to do. After another few steadying breaths, he opened his eyes and stood upright. He wasn't going to give up now. He looked around to make sure no one was watching him and then took off towards the house.

I need a weapon, Jack thought to himself. He stopped and looked around. Where the hell was he going to get a weapon? The only things around him were an empty pizza box, a stack of newspapers and some old soda cans; nothing he could do any damage with. Then he remembered that Mark had once told him about the shed he had in his backyard. It was where he kept his broken bike and random sports stuff he had picked up over the years. Without a moment of hesitation, he started towards the back of the house.

The shed was small and broken down. The wood that held it together was half-rotted and the whole shed seemed to slant to the side. Jack opened the door with ease and stepped inside. It was dark and dusty and he coughed while swatting at the air in front of him. He could barely make out anything in the small space. He pushed the door open further and the moonlight lit the room a little better. He scanned the small space again. Jackpot! In the corner, against the flat-tired bike was a baseball bat.

"Perfect," he said to himself and grabbed it silently.

Closing the door behind him, he walked towards the side of the house. He figured Bobby and his brothers would still be in the foyer so opted for the side door. He only hoped it would be open. Jack was a bit dizzy and shaking slightly. He would kill for a fucking cigarette right then. But he didn't have time to smoke and he ignored the craving. He was a man on a mission.

"See," Jack muttered to himself as he neared the door. "I can fucking take care of myself!"

Having said that, he moved forward and tried the door. To his surprise and delight it was open and he slowly and carefully made his way inside the house. He said a quick prayer and hoped that everything would turn out okay.

...

"Well, well, well," Chester said as Bobby turned around. "For a while I thought I'd never see you again."

"Oh I'm so fucking glad you found me," Bobby said sarcastically. Anger filled him as he looked at someone he once called his friend.

Jerry and Angel stood behind Bobby nervously watching and waiting. Bobby looked past Chester into the living room and saw Mark sitting on the couch. From what he could see, the kid was pretty beat up. He looked down at the floor, guilt and shame on his face. Bobby felt a new surge of anger flood through him at the sight of this kid. Chester must have forced this kid to obey him and do what he wanted him to do like a little soldier. It made him feel sick. Where did Chester get off doing that to his own brother? How could a person even do that?

Chester followed Bobby's gaze. "Kid don't listen," he said, his face expressionless and his tone even.

Bobby shook his head. "You're a fucking prick, you know that?"

Chester yawned in mock tiredness. "Did you come here to kill me or talk me to death?"

Bobby didn't answer right away. He could take out his gun and shoot Chester through the heart right there. It'd be over before it even had a chance to start. And Lord knew he just wanted to waste that motherfucker more than anything. But Bobby saw right through Chester and his facade. That was all Chester wanted-a reason to kill Bobby and his brothers and then play it off like self-defense. 'Gee, Officer, these men just stormed into my house and I fought them and took one of their guns and I shot him in defense.' Bobby scoffed internally; Chester would probably say something identical to that. And that sure as hell was not the way it was gonna go down.

"No," Bobby said finally. He took the gun from the waistband of his jeans, took out the bullets and dropped everything on the floor. "Drop the bag," he said to Jerry.

"What?" Jerry asked incredulously. "But Bobby-"

"Just do it," Bobby said sharply, cutting him off. Jerry lowered the bag onto the floor. Bobby kicked it aside.

"What's this?" Chester asked, amused. "Giving up already?"

Bobby stared him right in the face. "I'm not gonna make it so fucking easy for you. I am gonna kill you for what you did to my brother. But I'm gonna do it with my bare hands."

Chester's eye-brows rose and Jerry and Angel stared at Bobby like he was crazy. Chester searched Bobby's face to see if he was joking or if there was a catch but Bobby's expression was stone-cold serious. Chester was taken aback for a few seconds.

"You want to fight?" Chester asked, his words slow and deliberate. "Just fighting?"

"Just fighting," Bobby said, staring Chester right in the eyes. "No weapons."

Something in Chester's eyes changed but a small smile appeared on his face and he nodded. "Fine. Let's go then." He turned to look behind him. "Mark!"

Mark rose from the couch slowly and walked towards them. Bobby nodded at Angel and Jerry and they grabbed Mark, albeit gently, and stood on either side of him, one hand on each of his arms. Chester did a sweeping hand motion towards the stairs and Bobby followed him down, Angel, Jerry and Mark close behind.

There was no going back now.

...

Jack made his way stealthily down the hallway after entering the unlocked side door. He held the bat tightly in his hands, ready to swing if anyone suddenly stumbled upon him or jumped out at him from a dark corner. He wasn't afraid; he could do this. He was going to do this for the simple reason that he was a Mercer; something Bobby had kept telling him ever since the day he moved in. Jack never understood the importance Bobby put on their name. He could have been a
Smith or a Diamond or a Roberts but he'd still be the same old Jack. Bobby made it sound like the Mercer name was magic; like it was something they had to live up to and maintain. Jack found the name important; it was a symbol of his identity and the home he lived in. But, like most of the time, he didn't understand Bobby's point of view. Who did, really?

A noise coming from ahead of him made him stop in his tracks for a few seconds. He was frozen for a moment but relaxed when he realized it was only the house creaking as he walked. He hurried towards the front of the house and when he stepped into the foyer, he was struck with confusion. Where did everybody go? It was completely quiet and empty. He did a quick scan of the area. Even though it was dark he could see that no blood had been shed; at least in that part of the house. He didn't know what to do next. He stood in the middle of the foyer, shut his eyes and listened.

There it was! His eyes flew open and he threw himself towards the basement door. It was open a crack and the dim light was pouring out from it. He can't believe he didn't notice it at first. He got on his knees and carefully put the bat down on the cold tile floor. He peeked through the crack in the door and down into the basement. He couldn't see much but he could make out two figures standing in the middle of the basement. He knew it was Bobby and Chester. He felt a twinge in his stomach; it was about to go down and it was going to get ugly.

Jack looked around as far as he could see but he couldn't see his other brothers or Mark. He imagined they were off to the side and out of his line of sight. He clutched the bat in his hand once more and settled down to keep watch. If it got really bad and for some reason Bobby couldn't handle Chester, Jack would be ready to pounce. His only hope was that it would be over before it really started. He sat still, sucked in a breath and waited.

In the dim basement, surrounded by nothing but concrete walls and a rickety wood shelf, the air was tense. So thick, in fact, that a razor sharp blade would struggle to cut through it. Off to the side stood Angel and Jerry, Mark standing the tight space between them. The bag of weapons Angel acquired from Julian lay at Jerry's feet, unopened. Their eyes stared straight ahead to Bobby and Chester. The men were standing in the middle of the dank basement, staring each other down. They were shirtless; the more clothes the harder the fight became. It was pretty much Fight Club; only one of them was getting out alive.

For the time being both men just stood there, watching each other. It was customary in any fight; stare the other person down and banter until someone decided to throw the first punch. Bobby wasn't sure how long they had been standing there. It felt like hours but in reality it was probably no more than three minutes. He took that time to size up his opponent; trying to figure out his strength and speed. Bobby had been in hundreds of fights in his life. Hell, he'd been in more fights than Mike fucking Tyson. But this was the first time his opponent was staring at him with so much hate and the need to kill. It fueled his anger but also made him uneasy. Chester was one sick puppy; he had been waiting all this time to get Bobby and now the look on his face would be enough to make the devil turn away. Bobby held his ground though. The devil had nothing on Bobby Mercer anyway. He smirked at Chester.

"You just gonna stare at me?" Bobby asked; his body ready in a fight stance. "I thought you wanted to kill me."

"Oh I do," Chester said as they slowly began to circle each other. "I'm just figuring out how I want to kill you."

"If you don't know that yet," Bobby said with a scoff, "then you are pathetic at holdin' a fucking grudge."

Angel was growing nervous as he watched his brother and Chester circle each other. His stomach was a bundle of nerves and if it twisted itself anymore he was sure he would throw up on the concrete floor. He looked at Jerry who just gave him a quick nod. He was feeling the same thing. The anticipation was the worst part. Mark stood still and silent like a puppy that had been kicked one too many times. All through this, Jack sat at the top of the stairs, his grip on the bat getting tighter and tighter as the tension increased.

"Only one of us is making it out of here, you know," Chester said; his smile evil.

"I'll be sure to send flowers to your funeral," was Bobby's smart-ass reply. He was getting tired of this talking bullshit and so he pushed the one button he knew would set Chester in motion. It was mean and he felt bad but it had to be done. "Your funeral will be empty," Bobby said. "Just like Sid's."

It worked. The colour drained from Chester's face for a few seconds before anger flushed it with red. With a loud animal cry he lunged at Bobby, catching him around the waist and taking him down. Bobby had underestimated Chester's strength and was surprised when he hit the floor. His shoulder hit the concrete and he felt a burst of pain but he ignored it. Chester was able to get two punches in.

"Don't you ever talk about my brother!"

Before he could land a third punch, Bobby grabbed his arm and used his momentum to flip him completely over. Bobby was on top of Chester now and in control. He punched him five times and then stood, giving Chester the chance to stand up. Bobby Mercer was a fair fighter if anything. Chester stood, spat out blood and readied himself for another round. He swung at Bobby but it was swiftly blocked. Bobby grabbed Chester's arm on his second swing, twisted the arm behind his back and threw him forward. Chester landed on the steps, banging his face against one of the splintered pieces.

Jack jumped a little and prayed Chester wouldn't see him. But Chester was preoccupied. He was a sore loser and he hated Bobby having the upper hand. With an inhuman growl he pitched forward and landed a punch on Bobby's already hurt shoulder. Bobby hissed in pain and in that one split second of recovery, Chester tackled him and they landed on the cold floor. Once again Chester had the upper hand and he mercilessly pounded Bobby. Bobby saw an opportunity a few punches later and he managed to get on top of Chester. He punched him, this time breaking his nose; blood sprayed everywhere and Chester let out a strangled cry. Chester pushed Bobby and he fell backwards, rolling away from Chester. They both stood, bloody and tired but ready to go another round.

From the sidelines, Angel and Jerry watched silently but nervously. Their tension lessened when Bobby was winning and it came rushing back when he wasn't. Mark still watched silently. Part of him didn't want his brother to get hurt yet the other part rooted for Bobby to put an end to the whole vicious cycle of revenge. Jack, unnoticed in all the commotion, waited for the right time to make a move.

"You know," Bobby said as they circled, "I gotta give you credit for coming up with this plan. Who knew you were fuckin' smart?" Chester threw a punch at him and after blocking it, Bobby continued. "Pretty smart using your brother's name as your last name."

"It worked didn't it?" Chester growled, another punch easily deflected by Bobby.

Bobby shrugged and punched, Chester barely managing to block it. "Not really. Jack's still alive." Bobby paused and then smirked a little. "That must fucking eat you up inside, huh? Knowing you failed to do what it took you eight years to plan."

"No," Chester replied though he was visibly fuming. He wanted to tear Bobby apart and it showed. "Killing you is what I want, Mercer. And I'm going to get it!"

"Sure," Bobby said. He ducked when Chester swung and then kicked him in the back of the leg when he lunged on him. He looked down on Chester who was down on one knee. "You're about as good at killing me as you are a brother."

Chester swung around surprisingly fast and he kicked out his leg, tripping Bobby. Chester was on top of him in a second and this time, instead of punching, he wrapped his hand around Bobby's throat and squeezed. For a moment Bobby was stunned. He underestimated Chester again. He saw Angel and Jerry get ready to intervene from the corner of his eye and he waved them off. He was going to finish this himself. He was losing air fast and the edges of his vision were beginning to go black. As he stared into Chester's face, he imagined all that Chester did to Jack. And as he did the anger began to build up inside of him and with one burst of strength he pulled Chester's hands from his neck and pushed him backwards. As he stood, trying to catch his breath, Chester glared at him and jumped to his feet.

"You don't give up!" Chester said, his frustration showing. "Too bad you ain't like your brother. I had the kid screaming and crying in two seconds."

Bobby looked up suddenly, his eyes blazing with anger. Something inside him snapped and Chester saw it. He threw himself at Chester and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him forward. Bobby tore into him mercilessly. He punched him over and over like Chester was just a leather punching bag. And then with one uppercut to the jaw, Chester went sprawling backwards. He landed on his back and remained still. Bobby stood over him, breathing hard. He turned for a second to look at his shocked brothers on the sidelines. Mark looked conflicted; relieved and saddened at the same time.

That's when Jack saw Chester stir and he knew he had to make his move. As Chester stood, ready to attack Bobby, Jack pulled open the basement door and shouted,

"Bobby, watch out!"

Jack threw the bat with all his might and Bobby caught it swiftly, turning and swinging before fully understanding what was going on. The bat caught Chester in the temple and he crumpled to the concrete floor in a heap. He was dead, this time for real. Bobby let the bat fall from his hand and it landed with a loud clank. He looked towards the stairs as Jack walked down. When Jack reached Bobby, Bobby slapped him upside the head.

"Ow, fuck!" Jack said, rubbing his head. "What the fuck was that for?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Bobby asked, his voice a mix of incredulity and surprise.

"I figured you might need my help," Jack replied with a shrug.

"Jesus, kid," Bobby said with a chuckle. "If I wasn't so fucking happy to see you I'd kill you for being stupid!"

Jack chuckled as Angel and Jerry made their way over. They both asked Bobby if he was all right and Bobby shrugged them off in his typical tough guy way.

"I'm fine," Bobby said. "I've been worse."

"He sure ain't fine," Jerry said, nodding towards to Chester.

Mark knelt beside his now dead brother, not knowing how to react or what to feel. After a few seconds he stood and walked away. He saw Jack and immediately all the guilt he felt came rushing back to him.

"Jack, I-" he began.

But he didn't get a chance to finish. Jack swung hard and landed a punch on his jaw before an apology could escape his lips. He fell backwards to the ground and he looked shocked. Jack shook his head and offered Mark his hand and he pulled him up when he grabbed onto it. Mark silently rubbed his jaw where a dark bruise was already forming.

"Just go," Jack said. "Start over somewhere that's not here."

Mark nodded silently and muttered his thanks before running up the stairs and disappearing into the night. Jack turned to his brothers who looked identically shocked. Bobby's expression was a mix of pain, shock and pride.

"What?" Jack asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Nice right hook, kid," Bobby said. "Maybe you aren't such a fairy after all."

Jack just rolled his eyes but the compliment did make him happy. Angel cleared his throat then and nodded towards the body.

"What do we do with him?"

Bobby grabbed his shirt from the floor, slipped it on and grinned. "Angel-go get the gas can."

A while later, the four Mercer brothers drove into the night, putting the revenge and the flames of the burning house behind them.

...

2 Weeks Later

"Ma, come on," Angel said as his mother held him in a tight hug.

Stuff like that sometimes made him uncomfortable-especially goodbyes. He had had his "good-bye" with Sofi the night before and it ended on a hood note, thank God. He didn't know how the hell he'd survive in the Marines, with a bunch of guys, without a woman to call or talk to. The good-bye he had with Sofi he could handle. But this one, standing in the foyer with his mother and brothers made him uncomfortable. He didn't like seeing his mother cry. She smiled when she finally pulled back from the hug.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes. "It's hard when your children leave home."

"Bobby leaves home all the time, Ma."

"Yeah but Bobby's Bobby," she said and they all laughed when Bobby made a cry of protest. "Seriously," she said. "You be good and be safe and we'll see you soon."

"I'll be home for Christmas," Angel said and hugged her one last time.

"Yeah," Bobby added, clapping Angel on the shoulder. "So will I."

Evelyn hugged him and gave him the same advice-be good and be safe. She hugged them both once more and then ran off into the kitchen before she went in full mother-mode and really started crying. The four brothers were left standing in the foyer; Jack leaning against the stairs, Jerry standing in the middle, Angel and Bobby near the door. They were silent for a few seconds.

The last two weeks passed quickly and they were filled with relaxation and happiness instead of worry and drama. Evelyn went back to work and the brothers enjoyed the time to themselves. Jerry even convinced them to help him with more wedding planning and he took them to get fitted for suits; another story for another time. All in all, the two weeks were a good time, something to make up for the horror they all went through only a short time before. But like most things, the two weeks came to an end and everyone had to go back to their lives. Angel had been called up and he had to report for duty in two days. Bobby stayed home longer than he planned and he had to get back to the bar.

"I'll help you out, Angel," Jerry said, grabbing one of Angel's bags.

Angel gave Jack a good-bye hug and then followed Jerry to Bobby's car. Bobby was giving him a ride to the airport. Bobby and Jack were the only two left standing in the foyer.

"So," Bobby said.

"Say it," Jack said, his voice dry but a smirk on his face.

"What?"

"What you always say before you leave," Jack said.

Bobby scoffed and leaned against the door. "Enlighten me."

Jack's smirk grew. "'Jack, don't do anything stupid or I'll kick your ass back to fairyland.'"

Bobby laughed loudly. "That's good advice. You should take it."

"I can take care of myself, you know," was Jack's reply. He half-scowled.

"One good punch don't mean shit."

Jack shook his head. "Fuck off, man."

"Kid, you let yourself get kidnapped," Bobby said with a laugh. "Be grateful that I didn't but a fuckin' leash on you!"

Jack scoffed. "You would."

"I will," Bobby said seriously and then laughed. He and Jack shared a hug. "Be good, all right?" Bobby said when they pulled apart.

Jack nodded. "I will. And you-come home more than once a year."

"Hey!" Bobby said in mock protest. "I come home more than once a year. Sometimes." He picked up his bag and opened the door. "See you at Christmas, Cracker Jack."

"See you, Bobby."

Jack watched as Bobby said good-bye to Jerry and then got into his car. Bobby drove away and Jerry waved, getting into his own car. Jack shut the door and headed into the living room. He thought of all that had happened and how lucky he was to be alive. But his main thought when he plopped onto the couch was something different.

Finally he had the TV to himself.

...

A/N: Waaaah Ommg it's over! I can't believe it. I'm definitely gonna miss writing this, it's been like clockwork for me almost. But I am so extremely happy that I started and finished a story and I couldn't have asked for better reader/reviewers than all of you. Thank you so much for reading! Please review one more time. Until my next story (whenever that may be)…. -Addie