AN: Here's chapter four, better late than never! Finals week is finally over, although I'm pretty sure half my brain was removed in the process, and winter break is finally here! Which means more time to write, and more writing means more updating! I'm still in the process of writing chapter seven, but I thought I made you guys wait long enough, so I posted chapter four early. Anyway, chapter five is finished, chapter six is being edited, and chapter seven is coming along nicely. Updates will come sooner, I promise! On to your chapter...and thanks again for the reviews! You guys are great!
"Ma? I'm home!"
Bobby slipped off his shoes immediately upon entering the house, kicking them to the side, away from the door, before continuing down the hall towards the kitchen. He looked behind him, making sure that Jack was still following, and saw that Jack was lingering by the door, hands shoved in his jacket pockets and eyes wide.
"You gonna come in or what?" Bobby asked, and Jack nodded uncertainly, falling in step behind him. They made their way into the kitchen and Bobby shrugged out of his coat, tossing it onto the table with his keys. "Ma? Hello?"
"I'm coming, I'm coming," came a female voice from behind them, and Jack felt his shoulders tense. He turned around slowly and came face to face with an elderly woman, her kind features and white hair making her seem more like Bobby's grandma than his mom. She carried a wicker basket of laundry into the kitchen, setting it down on the table next to Bobby's jacket and smiling warmly at Jack. "You're home early from work, dear. Who's this?"
"Mom, Jack," Bobby stepped behind Jack and pushed him forward a little, ignoring Jack's reluctance to move. Jack stumbled, looking at the woman with wary eyes. "Jack, this is my mother, Evelyn Mercer."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jack," Evelyn said, still smiling and extending her hand towards Jack. "I'm always interested in meeting a friend of Bobby's."
"Don't start, Ma," Bobby warned as Jack shook her hand, sauntering over to the fridge and grabbing a beer. Evelyn patted Jack's hand, leaning in closer to the younger boy.
"He's always had very interesting friends, my Bobby," she murmured, her voice teasing and full of mirth. Jack couldn't help but smile as well, noticing how warm Evelyn's hands were around his. "Why, I remember this one time, when Bobby was younger, he brought home..."
"Okay, okay," Bobby cut in, waving a hand. "Stop right there. Don't you think we at least need to feed Jack before we tell him my childhood horror stories?"
"You haven't had dinner?" Evelyn asked, looking to Bobby first, who shrugged around a mouthful of beer, then to Jack. "Would you like something to eat, Jack?"
"Oh...no thank you, Mrs. Mercer, I..." Jack began, but was cut off by Evelyn's laughter.
"Please, dear, call me Evelyn," she chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. "No one under thirty has called me Mrs. Mercer in years. How old are you, anyways, dear?"
"I'm, um, nin..." He began, but Bobby coughed loudly, shooting him a glance from the other side of the room. "I'm sixteen."
"Oh," Evelyn said, sounding surprised. "Did you meet Bobby at the bar? Sixteen's a little young to be hanging out at bars, don't you think? Bobby, did you have something to do with this?"
Bobby snorted. "Right, Ma, like I have nothing better to do with my life than corrupt sixteen year olds while I'm supposed to be working."
"I'm in a band, Mrs...Evelyn," Jack offered as Evelyn shot Bobby a look that clearly said don't give me that tone. "We played at the bar where Bobby works tonight."
"I see," Evelyn said, smiling. "Well, are you boys hungry? I can heat up some leftovers."
"That's alright, Ma," Bobby said. "We can heat them up ourselves. It's late, you can go to bed."
"Alright, sweetheart, don't stay up too late," she said to Bobby, walking over to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, boys. Nice to meet you, Jack."
Jack nodded, still feeling a little awkward. Bobby hadn't even mentioned the fact that Jack was homeless, hadn't even asked if Jack could stay. He didn't know what to make of this...this woman, this house...the entire night...
"Bobby," Jack blurted out when Evelyn was out of earshot, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "Um, are you sure...are you sure it's okay?"
"What?" Bobby asked, walking over to the refrigerator and opening it, looking for something to eat. "You mean is it okay that you stay here?"
Jack nodded. Bobby sighed, leaning on the refrigerator door. "Of course it's fine, why wouldn't it be fine?"
"Um...are you sure...are you sure she knows that I'm...staying?"
"Fuck, Jack, do you want me to ask? Would that make you feel better?" Bobby asked, exasperated. Jack nodded again. "Fine," Bobby said, rolling his eyes. "Hey, Ma!"
"Yes, Bobby?" came the replay from upstairs.
"Jack's staying in Matt's old room tonight."
"Bobby!" Jack hissed, his voice low. "You could at least ask..."
"That's fine, dear."
"See?" Bobby said, turning back to the refrigerator. "Nothin' to worry about. Now let's eat."
Jack nodded, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, not sure of what he should do. Should he sit down at the kitchen table? Or did they eat in the living room, maybe? He didn't even feel that hungry, but was it rude to refuse the food that Bobby was offering? Was it rude to even be here?
"Any preferences, kid?" Bobby asked, head buried in the fridge. "I'm warnin' ya, we don't have that grand of a selection."
"Um, actually," Jack mumbled, "I'm not really that hungry. I'm just...kind of tired."
Bobby lifted his head of the refrigerator, looking back at Jack. "Well, you don't have to eat if you don't want to. Go ahead and go to bed. Upstairs, second door from the bathroom."
"Okay," Jack said, turning towards the stairs. "Thanks, Bobby."
"No problem," came the muffled reply as Bobby's head was back in the fridge.
Jack walked up the stairs, looking around when he got to the top. He saw the bathroom to his right, and a closed door straight ahead that he figured was Evelyn's room. The door to the left was cracked open, and he assumed that was the room he'd be staying in. He walked forward, pushing the door open all the way, and took in the sight of the small space.
It was relatively empty and remarkably clean, with a bed next to the window and a chest of drawers along the other wall. The walls were white, too white for Jack's liking, but the bed looked so incredibly inviting that he didn't care what the room looked like at all. It had been a long time since he'd actually slept in a bed. At Chad's it was usually the couch, and at his last home...well, there wasn't a whole lot of sleeping going on there...
Jack sat down on the bed, shaking his head. He didn't want to think about that right now. He had a roof over his head, and was going to sleep in a real, clean, soft bed. For tonight, he couldn't complain. But what about tomorrow night? And the night after that? He couldn't stay here again, and he couldn't live with Chad forever...
"Wall givin' you trouble there?" A voice from the doorway disturbed his thoughts, and he looked up to see Bobby leaning in the doorframe, an amused look in his eyes. Jack gave him a confused glance. "You're staring at it like it's gonna tell you the fuckin' mysteries of life."
"Oh," Jack mumbled, shaking his head again. "Sorry."
Bobby shrugged. "Don't apologize to me. It's the wall that's gonna be pissed if you keep it up." Jack just looked down at the floor. "It's a joke. Laugh. It's funny." When Jack still didn't respond, Bobby moved into the room and sat on the bed next to him.
"Okay, so it wasn't funny," Bobby said, trying to catch Jack's gaze. "Something on your mind, kid? Wanna talk?"
"I thought you were tired," Jack's voice was barely above a whisper.
"Yeah, I was," Bobby said, shrugging again. "But now I'm not."
"I was just thinking," Jack said, his voice exhausted. He felt his eyelids beginning to droop.
"About what?"
"Bobby," Jack's began, his tone a borderline whine. "All I wanna do is sleep right now. I can't even see straight."
Bobby nodded. "Sure, Jack. Whatever you want." He stood up, stretching his arms above his head. "You need anything, I'm downstairs. Otherwise, I'll see you in the morning."
"Yeah," Jack replied as Bobby left the room, closing the door behind him. "Night."
Jack sighed, kicking off his shoes and pulling down the blanket. He crawled under the covers and curled up, not caring that the light was still on. He willed himself not to think anymore, and was asleep within seconds...
When Jack opened his eyes, the light was off and it was still dark outside. He curled up into a tighter ball under the blankets, shivering. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was, and lay very still, trying to remember...
The band...playing at the bar...the bar...Bobby...
Oh yeah, Jack thought. I'm at Bobby's house. He sat up, yawning, looking around. The room looked different in the dark, in the middle of the night. It looked bigger, emptier, lonelier...
Jack suddenly didn't want to be in that room anymore. It was too cold, too impersonal, and he felt like he was intruding in some way. The room had belonged to someone else, someone named Matt...this wasn't his room...this wasn't his home...
He stood up, padding across the room and pushing the door open. He was physically uncomfortable, realizing that he'd fallen asleep fully clothed, in his t-shirt, jacket, and jeans. He slipped out of his jacket, throwing it back onto the bed, and tiptoed quietly past Evelyn's door. He made his way almost silently down the stairs, wincing as one of them creaked loudly.
As he walked into the kitchen, his rumbling stomach reminded him that it had been far too long since he'd had a decent meal. Jack didn't want to take food now, in the middle of the night, though...for some reason, it felt like stealing. It wasn't as if he'd never stolen before. Quite the opposite, actually: when money was low, Chad was gone or feeling particularly spiteful, and food was completely necessary that day, Jack had been known to steal a decent haul with a skill that only practice could perfect. He didn't want to steal from the Mercers, though. Something in the pit of his stomach told him it was like stealing from his own family...
"Cracker Jack." Bobby's voice from the living room made him jump, his heart racing and his breath quickening suddenly. He whirled around to face Bobby, who was slouched on the couch, elbow resting on the armrest and his head propped up in his hand. The blueish light from the TV illuminated the room in a soft glow. "You gonna get something out of the fridge or just stand there and stare at it?"
"What are you doing up?" Jack asked, shuffling into the living room, ignoring the question. Bobby laughed.
"It's my house, I can get up when I want," he said, sitting up a little straighter. "The better question is what are you doing up? Thought you were so tired you couldn't even see straight?"
"I still am," Jack said, yawning, leaning against the wall. "How long was I asleep?"
Bobby looked up at the clock. "Not long, it's only three." He patted the couch cushion next to him. "Have a seat. You look like you're gonna pass out."
Jack trudged over to the couch, collapsing next to Bobby with a tired sigh. He yawned again, rubbing his eyes before resting his hands across his stomach, fingers intertwined, legs stretched out in front of him.
"Hungry?" Bobby asked. Jack shook his head instinctively, but was contradicted by his stomach, which reminded him of its presence by growling loudly again. Jack blushed, grateful for the dim lighting so Bobby couldn't see it. Bobby laughed again. "Your stomach seems to think otherwise."
"I'm fine," Jack muttered. "I don't want anything."
"Why not?" Bobby asked. "If you're hungry, eat. Mi casa es su casa."
I wish, Jack thought, his body sagging tiredly further into the couch cushions. He just shook his head, and Bobby shrugged. "Whatever," he said, leaning his head on his hand again and yawning. His eyes were fixed on the TV, where a late night replay of a Redwings game was showing. "You like hockey?"
"It's okay," Jack said. "I like to play it more than watch it."
"You play?" Bobby asked, genuinely intrigued as he lifted his head again.
"Kind of," Jack said, sitting up a little straighter himself. "I mean, not really...just for fun, you know? I used to play a lot when I was littler, in my first home."
Bobby nodded. "You should come play with me and my boys sometime. Me and Jerry get a vicious game of Turkey Cup goin' on thanksgiving."
"Sounds like fun," Jack said. "Who is Jerry, anyway?"
"What do you mean who is Jerry?" Bobby asked, and Jack noticed that his voice was also laced with fatigue. "I introduced you to Jerry. You met him already."
"No," Jack said, rubbing his face again. "I mean, who is he? How do you know him?"
"Oh," Bobby replied, resting his head against the back of the couch. "High school. I needed a math tutor, and the teacher recruited Jerry, because he's good with numbers and shit." Bobby chuckled at the memory. "I wanted nothing to do with him, fucked with him mercilessly for the first three days, insulting him, calling him names. On the fourth day, he insulted me back. We've been best friends ever since."
Jack couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped from his throat. "He insulted you and that's how you became friends?"
"Yeah," Bobby said, smiling. "I knew he had balls then."
Jack laughed again, genuine, amused laughter. Bobby grinned wider at him when he yawned suddenly in the middle of his laugh, unable to control his tiredness. "If you're so tired, why don't you go to sleep?"
"Can't sleep," Jack replied. Bobby's grin was rapidly disappearing as he looked at Jack.
"Too much thinking?" he asked, and Jack suddenly felt like he'd said something wrong. "About John Davis?"
Jack was taken aback, the sudden mention of the name making him nervous. "What? No..."
"You wanna talk about him?" Bobby asked sincerely.
"No," Jack said adamantly, shaking his head, trying to appear confident although his heart was beating frantically in his chest. "I can't...not right now..."
"Why not?" Bobby asked as Jack refused to look at him. "Don't trust me?"
"We just met." Jack was still shaking his head, although his voice was softer.
"You think it feels like we just met?" Bobby asked, and Jack finally looked up. He tried to keep his voice calm, so as not to spook Jack. "Because to me, it feels like I've known you a lot longer than a couple of hours."
"It's only been a couple of hours?" Jack asked wearily, looking up at the clock again. It seemed like it had been forever...
"Yeah, a couple of hours," Bobby repeated, turning sideways on the couch to face Jack. "I don't know what the fuck is goin' on, okay? Something weird, something...something I can't even comprehend right now because I'm too damn tired. But we both know that it's goin' on. I felt the spark too, okay?"
"Okay," Jack whispered, his eyes watering. He wanted to tell Bobby...
"Okay," Bobby said, trying to coax Jack without being too pushy. "Who's John Davis?"
Jack took a deep breath, wiping his eyes. "My foster father." his voice was almost inaudible, and Bobby had to lean in to hear him. "I ran away, didn't I? Doesn't that tell you enough?"
"Not really," Bobby said, but something about his voice told Jack that he wasn't going to push the issue. "You said something about your first home...was that with him? Or before?"
"Before." Jack was grateful for the slight change of subject. He didn't want to cry in front of Bobby. He wanted to talk about playing hockey with his friends, about getting his first guitar with the money he'd saved from his allowance, maybe about smoking his first cigarette in grade school...
"Why'd you leave?"
Shit. Jack felt the tears welling up again. I didn't want to talk about that. He mumbled something inaudibly, and Bobby leaned in again, cupping his hand around his ear dramatically. "Come on, Jackie. You gotta learn to speak a little louder than that if you want anyone to take you seriously."
"I said they didn't want me anymore!"
Bobby recoiled, startled by both Jack's raised voice and what he'd revealed. "Oh," he said, sounding guilty as he reclined back again. Jack's shoulders slumped, embarrassed by his outburst and the moisture that was threatening to spill out of his eyes. He kept his head down, suddenly nervous around Bobby. Was he angry that Jack had yelled?
"Sorry," Bobby continued, and Jack nodded, rubbing his eyes.
"It's okay," he said miserably, trying unsuccessfully to make his voice sound nonchalant. "Not your fault."
"Yeah, well it's not your fuckin' fault either," Bobby spat, and Jack was surprised at the anger in his voice. He'd never had anyone get angry on his behalf...he'd had plenty of people get angry because of him, hell, it was pretty much the story of his life...but never for him. His face scrunched up in confusion, and he quickly wiped away a tear that happened to escape.
Bobby watched him closely, as if to gage his quickly changing emotions. "Come here, ya little fairy," he finally said, wrapping an arm around Jack's shoulders and roughly pulling him to his side. Jack's immediate instinct was to pull away, but Bobby's arm was warm around him, suddenly giving him more comfort than Bobby could have known. He resisted the urge to rest his head against Bobby's shoulder, knowing that would be drastically pressing his luck. Instead, he settled for leaning slightly into Bobby and letting his tired eyes close.
This must be what it's like to have a brother, was the last thought that crossed his mind before he drifted into unconsciousness.
Kool-Aid Girl: So, this is actually an answer to your review from chapter one, because somehow I missed it the first time around and I feel really bad about it. Many apologies! Anyway, I'm glad you like this story, and please don't die! Here's another chapter for you!
Rogue21493: Hehe, I loves my angst. It keeps me going...and I can't tell you what happens next! But I can promise that the next chapter will be updated a lot quicker. Winter break time!
Ebz: Oh, my grammar skills are far from perfect, but I work hard at it. Being an English major, paper writing is my life. Bad grammar means bad grades. More updates soon, winter break means more time to write!
pwrhungryjr: Thank you, I'm glad you liked it!
xXJackxXmy3rdXclassXrockXStarX: Thank you very much! It try to write in a way so people can visualize what's going on in their minds, like the characters are really up there having a conversation. At least, that's how I like to read. More updates very soon!
Sparks Diamond: Thank you! Updates soon because finals are over and winter break is here!
Ophelia Hyde: Of course I'll forgive you, I don't care when I get reviews! I'm just glad to get them at all! I'll definitely take that as a compliment, with many many thank you's attached to the end. And the reason I don't write romance...is because I can't. I've tried, it's no good. The angst part of my brain takes over and kills the story. So powerful, my skills are not. Just...limited. But thank you, anyway! As for the theory...well, I think that was answered in this chapter. Good guess, though! More updates soon!
Eva Deanna: Jack in a Santa hat? Yay! I'm looking forward to that story! I loved the protective vibe that Bobby gave off in the movie, and I really had a good time portraying that in the last chapter and in this one. To answer your questions: I'm pretty sure the John Davis one was answered in the above chapter, though you will learn more about him as the story progresses...the random memories thing will start being explained in chapter six, I believe, if everything goes according to plan (chapter five has been saved to showcase my OC)...but the real scoop behind Jack and Bobby's connection won't be until closer to the end.
anime-queen46: Thank you, I will try!
Death By Teacup: I'm glad you like it. More updates coming sooon!
BrittneyRose: Thank you, I'm glad you like it! Updates will be coming sooner, since it's winter break time!