Thanks to: dreamcatcher33, Pip3, Valandil Eluch, kipperoo453, candice, onefreetoroam, and PreppieKhmerGal for all the great reviews.

Title: Something Was Wrong
Rating: PG13 (WARNING: REFERENCE TO RAPE)
Disclaimer: Any familiar people and/or places belong to Annie Proulx. No profit is or will ever be made off of this.

Enjoy!

Jack knew when he knocked on the oak front door and got no answer that something was wrong. He had figured the girls, who had not wanted to be there in the first place, would be eagerly awaiting his arrival by the front door. He tried the door knob and found it was locked. A sudden sense of urgency overwhelmed him and he started banging on the door. Pounding it with fair sized fists. Eventually a hoarse voice started escaping his throat, yelling the girls' names. Finally, Francine came to the door.

Her hair was disheveled, tears flowed freely over pale cheeks. She looked like she was about to be sick. "Jack..."

"Francine," his voice was soft, full of a father's worry. He knelt down and swept the tears off her face with a thumb, put a hand on her shoulder, "What's wrong, honey?"

"I don't...I cain't...You got here too late."

"Too late fer what, honey?" He stood back up and looked over her shoulder, "Where's Jr.? Where's Monroe?"

"They're...He..."

Jack's stomach hit the floor, he too felt he would be sick, "Francine, where's Jr.?" He hoped he was wrong, his head started pounding, he couldn't feel the porch beneath him.

Francine started to cry again, "Jack..." she choked out the words between sobs, taking in deep, wheezing breaths, "He made us promise not to tell."

"Tell what? Where's Jr.?" He knew the girl was frightened, but he wished she'd just tell him where her sister was, and he couldn't help getting a little annoyed. Francine took a breath, and pointed to the door closest to her.

Jack walked swiftly past her and smashed the door open with a loud bang. Monroe was sitting on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his hair. His pants were undone, sitting comfortably around his hips. Junior, on the other side of the room, was crying quietly as she pulled a skirt on, bare chest and stomach still exposed. Both of their heads jerked up at the sound of the door.

"Jack!" she cried out, forgot her shirt on the floor and ran over to him. He wrapped his arms around her; she hugged his waist tightly and sobbed into his denim shirt.

"Shit." Monroe stood and pulled his jeans up, gold belt buckle jingling as it hit the metal button on the pants.

"What in hell're yeh doin', Monroe?" Jack rubbed the young girl's back, she continued to cry, and grasped the fabric of his shirt in small fists.

"Jack, it isn't what it looks like," his face begged Jack just to walk away.

"What is it then, 'cus I shore know what it looks like. It looks like yeh weren't treatin' these girls like a Daddy should."

"Well, that may be 'cause I'm not their Daddy!" He yelled, pulling a tight undershirt on.

"No man should do this." Jack pushed Junior away from him, put his palms on her hot cheeks. "It's gonna be ok, Jr. I promise." He put his jacket on the girl's shoulders and pulled it tightly over her exposed torso. "Go out to the truck with Francine, I'll be there in a second."

Jack came out to the truck 5 minutes later, blood on his knuckles, Junior's rumpled shirt, bra, and underwear in his hand. "Here," he handed it to her with a gruff voice, and swiped a fist over his bleeding nose.