A/N: I watched Four Brothers the other day, and Jackie was my favorite character. As soon as I saw him I was like 'Okay, he's officially my favorite character', and I liked him more and more as I continued watching the movie. And then, like almost all my favorite characters in books or movies, he died. I cried and got angry, and I shouted 'Jackie can't die!', but of course that didn't bring him back. When I went into the Four Brothers fanfic section, I saw a lot of fics that made it so that Jackie didn't die. So I decided to try something new, and I don't believe I've seen this done before, so I'm going to try and do my best with this. Hope you all enjoy it.
Disc.: I don't own Four Brothers. If I did, Jack would be alive.
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It had been five years since the Mercers had buried their mother and youngest brother, but the agony was still fresh in the mind of Bobby Mercer. He had avenged them, but he still couldn't get rid of the guilt that wreaked havoc on his mind. Most of this guilt was over Jack. He was often plagued with nightmares of his death, where he would always hear Jackie's voice, screaming for Bobby to help him. And as always, he was never able to save him. He knew that he had let Jack down. Even though Jeremiah and Angel would tell him that he had done all he could, Bobby knew that he could've done more. He was Jackie's older brother damnit, it was his job to protect him! But in the end, he'd just let him down, like everyone else in his life had.
Now Bobby was visiting the graveyard again, two bouquets in hand. One for his mother and one for Jack. When he reached Evelyn's grave, he laid the flowers down on it, his dark eyes showing the pain that he still felt over his mother's death. "I'm sorry Ma," he whispered again. He always did when he visited her grave. "I'm sorry that I couldn't protect him. And I'm sorry that I wasn't here to save you either." He waited in silence for a few seconds, saying a silent prayer for his dead mother. Then he moved on to Jackie's grave.
But to his surprise, he saw a tiny figure huddled before his brother's tombstone, shaking. As he got closer he could hear small whimpers being emitted from the small child, and he felt something akin to alarm shoot through him. What would a little kid be doing at Jackie's grave? He knelt down next to the kid and lightly touched it's shoulder.
"Hey, kid, what are you doing here?" He asked, trying not to alarm it. The kid looked up at him, and Bobby was taken aback for a moment. It was a girl, with wild, dirty blonde hair and dark green eyes. She had on a short-sleeved black shirt, and a pair of ragged blue jean shorts. But the weird thing was that she had a stunning resemblance to Jack.
"I don't have anywhere else t'be," the girl said softly.
"Well you shouldn't be here in those clothes. You'll freeze," Bobby said, shaking his head. He took off his long, gray jacket and put it on the girl, who instantly clutched it around herself to keep warm. "Shouldn't you be at home?"
The girl tilted her head, and her next words sounded sad. "I don't have a home."
"Well, do your mommy and daddy live around here?" He asked. He hoped to god that she said yes.
"I don't have a mommy and daddy," she whispered, her sorrowful green eyes boring into Bobby's dark brown ones. He swallowed, feeling his heart go out to the younger girl. He remembered how he had barely had a home or parents when he was her age.
"How old are you?" He asked gently.
"Five," she answered, holding up all the fingers on her left hand to illustrate this.
"And what's your name?"
This time the little girl looked at the tombstone, staring at the engraved words 'Jack Mercer, Beloved Brother and Son.' "I don't know my name."
Bobby stared at her in disbelief. How could a girl her age not even know her own name? Was that even possible? "Well, my name's Bobby Mercer. Do you want to come to my house with me?" Bobby almost smacked himself for asking that. Sure, he didn't want to leave the poor kid out in the cold, especially since they lived in Detroit, but he couldn't just take her to his house. He had never taken care of a kid before, not since Jackie had been little himself. And even if he did take her, he would just have to hand her over to the orphanage the next day. But the small girl looked at him and nodded. He sighed, not able to back down on what he'd said now.
"Alright then, let's go," he said, offering a hand to help the little girl stand up. When she did, he realized that he hadn't done what he'd meant to do when he came in the first place. "Hold on a minute, okay?" He said to the girl. She simply nodded, and Bobby turned back to the grave, setting the bouquet down on top of it.
"Those're for you, ya fairy," he whispered. "I love you Jackie; we all miss you." Then he made another silent prayer for his brother. When he turned around, there was a strange, pained expression on the girl's face. "You alright?" Bobby asked in concern. The look disappeared and she nodded.
"I'm okay," she said quietly. Bobby didn't push the matter, and he lead the young girl to his car. She nearly tripped a few times on his jacket, but Bobby adjusted it so that the coat went above her feet. He helped her into his car, buckling her into the front seat carefully. When he got into the car himself, he looked over at her again, eyebrows furrowed. He couldn't get over it; something about her made him think of Jack.
"Wha'sa matter?" She asked, her head tilted in confusion.
"Nothin'," Bobby said, shrugging it off. An odd look passed over the girl's face, one that Bobby couldn't quite understand. But she didn't say anything, and the look was gone as soon as it came. Bobby sighed, gripping the steering wheel as he began driving back to his house. He'd lived in the house his mother had left him since her death. Angel and La Vida Loca had lived with him for awhile, but moved out after Angel had found a place of his own. He looked over at the girl again, who was staring intently out the window.
"You know, we gotta figure out what to call you," Bobby said, feeling like an idiot because he couldn't call her anything other than kid. She looked up at him curiously.
"Whaddya wanna call me?"
"Well…how about Jackie?" The name was out of his mouth before he even really thought about it. He was about to take it back; he couldn't name her Jackie, that was just stupid of him. This girl wasn't Jackie, even if she looked a little like him. But the small girl nodded enthusiastically, her green eyes shining with delight.
"I like that!" She said. Bobby's own eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly smiled and ruffled her hair.
"You like it, huh? Alright then, from now on, you're Jackie." Jackie's eyes were sparkling, and she grinned.
"So, do you know the name of the city we're in?" Bobby tried to start another conversation. Jackie nodded.
"De…Detroit," she replied, although she pronounced it a little odd. This didn't surprise Bobby though, considering that she was only five. Bobby went on with a few more questions, like what her favorite color was (black), if she knew how to read (a little), and what her favorite animal was (rabbits). Finally, however, they reached their destination. Bobby helped her out of the car, and she walked with him to the front door, stumbling a little on the way up the porch steps. When she got inside, Jackie stared up at the pictures on the wall.
"Who are they?" She asked Bobby. Bobby smiled and lifted the girl up, surprising her.
"They're my family," Bobby said, smiling. He pointed to each picture, naming off the people who were in it. "That's my mother, that's my brother Jeremiah, that's my other brother Angel, and that's…" he swallowed. "That's Jack, my youngest brother." Jackie studied the pictures, tilting her head.
"But Angel and Jer..eh..Jereh…" "Jeremiah," Bobby said for her. She nodded. "They have different skin. How can you be brothers?"
"Well, we're all adopted."
"What's 'dopted?"
Bobby smiled. "Adopted means that our real parents died when we were little, and then we get new parents." He decided not to add that he and the other boys had gotten pretty bad foster parents before they'd come to Evelyn Mercer. She was five; she didn't need to know about it just yet.
"Oh. So are you 'dopting me?" She asked. Bobby was surprised by the question.
"What?"
"I don't have 'ny parents, so are you gonna 'dopt me?" She asked again. The innocent curiosity in her eyes made Bobby feel strange. Was he going to adopt her? He didn't know. Bobby was used to living by himself, if not with other, fully-grown men. Never had he even thought of raising a kid. He didn't know the first thing about it, really, especially since she was a girl. He didn't even have a girlfriend. Besides, would someone like him even be allowed to adopt her? He rubbed his temples with his free hand. He would ask Jerry about it later. For now, he would just take care of her.
"I'm tired," Jackie announced, resting her head on Bobby's shoulder sleepily. Bobby sighed and carried her upstairs, a little relieved that she would be going to sleep. It gave him time to call Jerry, and more importantly, it gave him time to think on if he could really handle taking care of a little girl. He set her down on the top of the stairs, and with a smile told Jackie to choose whichever one she wanted. She ran down the hall and into Jack's room. Bobby followed her, and found her curled up on Jackie's bed, smiling in content.
"I like this room, can I sleep here?" Bobby nodded, feeling a slight pang as he watched the girl fall asleep almost instantly. It felt like just yesterday that Jack himself had been sleeping there, in almost the exact same position as Jackie was now. God…he couldn't get over how much she reminded him of Jack. And it was weird how she'd immediately chosen Jack's room to sleep in, without even looking at any of the other rooms. And to have chosen Jack's specifically, after being named Jackie…Bobby shivered and shook off the thought. It was a coincidence. Just a simple coincidence, not worth thinking too much about. But it still lingered in the back of Bobby's mind just the same.
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Okay, there's the first chapter. Has anyone figured out what I'm trying to do…? Hm. Anyways, tell me what you think of it.
