A/N: Just so I don't confuse anyone, this story takes place after the movie. ((Jack isn't dead, though.))
And thanks for all of the reviews! I hope you like this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters...

Chapter 1

Jack couldn't stop shaking. He couldn't catch his breath. He felt trapped in his own skin. "I thought I was done dealing with this shit..." Jack wondered aloud. God, why couldn't he stop shaking?

What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't just sit there, but he was in no condition to walk anywhere right now. He probably needed to go to a clinic and get checked out, but there was no way he could do that either. He needed Bobby to come get him. How was he going to lie himself out of this one? He was never good at lying.

Sighing, he pulled out his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Bobby's number with a shaky hand. He really didn't want to call him, but he didn't know what else to do.

"Bobby?... Yeah, it's me, Jack… I need you to come pick me up ... Yeah, I know, I'm sorry... I'm in the alley behind the bar... Okay. Bye..." Jack hung up the phone. He did his best to make his voice sound normal, but chances are, Bobby picked up on the uneasiness of it.

About five minutes later Jack heard Bobby's car pull up. He cut of the engine and got out of the car, looking for his little brother. "Jack!" He shouted. He was worried about him. Something wasn't right.

"I'm right here." Jack said quietly, emerging from the shadows.

"Thank God." Bobby sighed in relief. However his relief was short lived when he saw Jack's appearance. His face was completely white and his bright blue eyes now seemed dull and void of all emotion.

"Jack, what the hell happened to you?"

"Nothing." Jack responded, a little too fast. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. It was a wonder he didn't burn himself. God, he needed to stop shaking. He glanced up at Bobby. He didn't believe him. Damnit. Why couldn't Bobby just believe him? "I got mugged, okay? No big deal. I just didn't feel like walking home."

"Cut the bullshit Jack and tell me what's going on." Bobby was losing his patience.

"It's not bullshit Bobby!" Jack yelled in response. He was starting to get mad; now wasn't the time for 21 questions. Jack ran his fingers through his hair and heaved an irritated sigh.

"What's that mark on your arm from?" Bobby asked, noticing a reddish, purple mark around Jack's wrist. He knew Jack had plenty of scars from his childhood, but he had never seen that one there before.

"Fuck you, man. All I needed was a ride." Jack knew it was a mistake calling Bobby. He turned and started to walk in the direction of the house.

"Jack, wait." Bobby said, catching Jack's arm as he walked past.

"Don't touch me!" Jack said, spinning around in alarm. He was unusually jumpy. At least he wasn't shaking as much. It's a wonder what cigarettes will do.

"I'm sorry... Just get in the car." Bobby said, giving in. He knew Jack wasn't telling the truth and he definitely knew that Jack was in far worse condition then what he was letting on.