AN: Wow, you guys! Thank you so much for your reviews for last chapter! They were awesome, and amazing, and there were so many of them! I'm really glad to know that you guys are enjoying this story, and that you're intrigued about what's going to happen next. I also hope you all had a Merry Christmas! Here's the next chapter, were the real juicy stuff begins. Thanks again! You guys make this story so much fun to write!

"Cracker Jack."

Jack moaned, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow as Bobby's voice penetrated his sleep. Without opening his eyes, he was aware of two things. Firstly, he knew that it was way too early to be awake. His eyelids were still heavy, staying closed easily without any help or protest. Accordingly, there was very little sunlight pressing against the comforting darkness his closed eyes created. Secondly, he knew that Bobby was sitting on the edge of the bed, poking him in the arm, very awake and enjoying himself far too much.

"Jackie. Wake up."

"No." His head remained in the pillow as he tried to ignore Bobby's presence and will himself back to sleep.

"Yes. Get up."

"Why?" Jack realized that he was whining. He was not a morning person, by any means, and he didn't care who knew it.

"Because, it's time to get up." Bobby poked him with enough force that he actually lifted his head out of the darkness, propping himself up on his elbows and opening his eyes, blinking wearily up at Bobby. Bobby chuckled, ruffling Jack's already messy hair as his tired eyes wandered around the room, resting on a clock in the far corner. "Aren't you a sore sight in the morning?"

"Are you insane?" Jack dropped himself back into the pillow, closing his eyes again. "It's six in the morning. It is not time to get up."

"Yes, it is," Bobby insisted, pulling the blanket off of Jack's body and throwing it across the room. Jack curled up in response, his legs folding and his arms wrapping around his chest. "Come on. Up."

"No."

"Up."

"Go away."

"Not a chance."

Suddenly something hard and heavy smacked against Jack's arm, and he shot up into a sitting position, rubbing the offended body part and glaring at Bobby. "Fuck, Bobby, that hurt."

"Got your attention, didn't it?" Bobby laughed, watching as Jack leaned against the headboard, letting his head fall back limply. "Mornin', sweetheart."

"Shut up," Jack mumbled without much anger, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "Can I ask why you're waking me up at six in the morning?"

Bobby shrugged, still grinning. "It looked like fun. And you said you wanted to talk last night. So let's talk."

"I didn't say I wanted to wake up at six and talk." Jack moved to lie down, but Bobby pushed him back up. "What? You didn't wanna talk last night, anyway."

"Well, I do now."

"About what?"

"About this." Bobby held up a book in his hand, the one with which he'd hit Jack in the arm. Jack mentally read the title, feeling his stomach start to churn. Oh great...

"Parallel Universes and Alternate Realities," Bobby read aloud, looking back at Jack with raised eyebrows. "What is this shit?"

"It's nothing." Jack kept his eyes down, watching his own hands toy idly with the edge of the pillow.

"It sure seemed like something last night," Bobby said, placing the book back down into Jack's line of vision. "You said you wanted to talk about it then. Why wouldn't you wanna talk about it now?"

"Because, it's nothing," Jack repeated, not looking at the book. Yesterday, the concept had seemed completely plausible. But now, this morning, with a clear head and after a night to sleep on it, it seemed like nothing more than a ridiculously fantasy. And what was he supposed to say to Bobby? Hey, remember those weird feelings we've been having? Well, I think it's because...

"That's not true," Bobby's voice was stern, almost demanding. "Tell me what this is, Jack."

"Forget it, you'll think it's stupid," Jack shrugged unconvincingly, knowing there was really no way to avoid the situation if Bobby wasn't going to let it go.

"Try me," Bobby said resolutely, and Jack looked up into his eyes. He seemed completely serious. Might as well go for it.

"Well," Jack began, taking a deep breath and trying to recall the way he felt yesterday, when he'd found the book. "I was at the library, and I just...found this book. I wasn't looking for it, I wasn't even looking for anything, it just kind of...jumped out at me. So I started reading it, and it said some pretty crazy stuff, but I kind of believed it, because I thought about...about the stuff that's been goin' on...with you and me and...it made sense at the time..."

"Whoa, Jack," Bobby said, holding out a hand to stop him, not able to prevent the amusement from creeping into his voice at Jack's fragmented speech. "You're not making any sense. What are you talking about?"

"Here." Jack grabbed the book, flipping through the pages until he found the chapter he was looking for. He held it out to Bobby, who took it skeptically, shooting Jack a wary glance. "Just read it."

"Okay," Bobby said, giving Jack another doubtful look before reading aloud, almost mechanically. "Parallel Universes. How the decisions you make and don't make..."

"...affect the world around you and the worlds of others," Jack finished for him, reciting the title of the chapter by memory. Bobby looked up from the page, shrugging.

"I don't get it," he said, glancing back down at the book. "What's this all about?"

"Well," Jack started, his hands starting to wring nervously. He knew there was no way that Bobby was going to believe this. "Basically, what the book says is that when we make a decision, the choice we don't make creates another...universe...I guess. Where your life kind of...happens differently...or something."

Bobby stared at him blankly. "What?"

Jack shook his head. He was going to have to approach this from a different angle. "Okay, you decided to become a hockey player, right?"

Bobby snorted in amusement. "You make it sound like I'm a damn professional."

"Fine, whatever, you decided to play hockey one day, right?" Jack asked, and Bobby nodded, uncertainty still clear in his eyes. "So, let's say, that day you decided to play hockey...you didn't. You never decided to play hockey. You never touched a stick, a puck, a pair of skates...nothing."

"I wouldn't have done that."

"Let's just pretend you did."

"But I wouldn't..."

"Bobby, please," Jack was starting to get exasperated. "Just...work with me here, okay? If you had never decided to play hockey, your life would have turned out a little differently, right?"

"You could say that," Bobby said, shrugging again. "So...what? Where's this going?"

"Well, this book is saying that...somewhere," Jack paused, not knowing how to continue without making himself sound like a complete lunatic. "Somewhere...there's another...another universe, and another...you...another Bobby...not playing hockey, and living your life as if you'd never played hockey before." He stopped and looked up at Bobby, who continued to stare at him, his expression unreadable. Jack continued, looking back down at the book. "So maybe, someone...you or me, I guess...made some decision somewhere along the line, and there's another universe created out of that decision...out of the choice we didn't make...where we're...friends, maybe. Or relatives. Or...or something. And maybe that universe...and our universe...are kind of...crossing over."

Jack took a deep breath, his chest feeling lighter now that he'd said all of that. He looked back at Bobby, who was still staring at him in complete silence, making him feel a little uneasy. He wanted Bobby to say something...anything...to indicate that he understood what Jack was saying. Something...anything...

Suddenly, Bobby burst into a fit of laughter, startling Jack so much that he jumped back.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Bobby choked out, shaking his head. "This is nuts. Absolutely insane, Jack. This is a joke, it has to be."

"It's not," Jack said, watching Bobby laugh and feeling a little hurt. Bobby had asked him what the book was about, and Jack had been honest with him, no matter how crazy it seemed...and now Bobby was making fun of him.

Bobby, realizing that Jack wasn't smiling and definitely wasn't joking, suddenly made a drastic effort to control his laugher. He looked at Jack, bewildered, his head titled slightly to the side, letting one last chuckle escape his throat. "You're serious? You can't be serious."

"I am." Jack was looking back down at his hands now, feeling a blush creep across his neck and cheeks. It was ridiculous, he knew it, but it felt so right last night. He was hoping, on an off chance, that it would feel right to Bobby, too. Apparently not.

"Jackie," Bobby said, his tone chastising, like that of a parent who'd just caught their kid telling a lie. "You can't tell me you believe any of that shit. This entire thing," he picked up the book for emphasis, "is just one big elaborate product of someone's crazy, twisted, overactive imagination. This isn't real. Why would you think this is real?"

"It felt real," Jack mumbled, his face feeling even hotter than before. He didn't like being criticized. "It felt...right. It sounded crazy, but it felt...I don't know, like I should pay more attention to it."

Bobby shook his head. "Sometimes feelings are just that, Jack. Feelings. Not anything special, okay? Maybe...I don't know, you're turning into a sci-fi nerd or something, and that's why you freaked out about this book. But you can't take every feeling you have and act on it and think it's a hundred percent fact. I should know...sometimes, doing that can get you in a lot of trouble."

"Okay..." Jack was suddenly confused. "You're saying that I shouldn't trust these feelings. Then what's so special about my feeling like I know you? And when you feel like you know me...why don't you just blow that off, too?"

"I'm not blowing anything off," Bobby said adamantly. "I want to figure out what's goin' on as much as you do, but I'm not gonna go around and make up stories and theories about it, saying that some crazy alternate parallel reality shit is the reason why we're suddenly more familiar than we should be." He paused, shaking his head. "I trust myself to decide which feelings are worth looking after."

"So do I," Jack had more conviction in his voice, feeling the embarrassment seep away as his argument strengthened. "Believe me, I've gotten myself out of a lot of...situations...because of instinct. Because of feelings. And I know it sounds crazy, but I trust my feelings about this book." He paused for a minute, looking at Bobby with searching eyes. He voice softened. "Why don't you?"

Bobby sighed. "It's not that I don't trust you, Jack. It's just...it's not realistic, okay? I mean, you make a million decisions every day. So...so you're sayin' that because, one morning I woke up and decided to have toast instead of bacon, or milk instead of orange juice, or to put my left shoe on first instead of my right shoe...you're sayin' that every one of those decisions creates some kind of parallel reality universe thing?"

Jack shrugged half-heartedly, looking back down at the pillow, where his hands were pulling at a few loose strings. "Maybe."

"I'm sorry, it's just doesn't make sense," Bobby replied, in a tone that said this conversation is over. "I just don't believe it. So either you can keep tellin' yourself that this crap is true, or you can forget about it and we can work on figuring it out together." He searched for Jack's eyes, trying to catch his gaze while Jack continued to stare at the bed. "Okay?"

Jack nodded, knowing that a further argument would only upset Bobby, and only make him feel worse. "Okay."

"Okay," Bobby repeated, patting Jack once on the leg. "Enough of this. I owe you a hockey game and a McDonald's run, don't I?"

"Whatever," Jack murmured, keeping his head down to hide the sudden glint of happiness in his eyes. He tried to sound nonchalant, but in reality, he was ecstatic that Bobby had remembered the hockey game. "Doesn't matter to me."

"Alright, that's gotta stop," Bobby said, suddenly standing up and looking back down at Jack. "Look at me." He waited until Jack's eyes met his, and continued. "We're gonna stop this 'I don't care' bullshit right now. You're gonna to learn to make decisions."

"I do make decisions," Jack said defensively, sitting up a little straighter. Bobby just rolled his eyes.

"Right, like when you made the decision to lie to me about where you live, that was a good one." Bobby's tone remained teasing, even though his message rang clear. "And the decision you made about not eating when you were really starving the other day? That was a good one, too. Oh, and when you decided to..."

"Where's this going?"

"If you want something," Bobby leaned down, surprising Jack and grabbing him by the shoulders, shaking him slightly, "ask for it. Say it. For Christ's sake, assert yourself. Do you want to play hockey?"

"Yes," Jack nodded.

"Do you want to go to McDonald's?"

Jack smirked. "Not really."

Bobby grinned, releasing Jack's shoulders and standing straight again. "There ya go. Where do you wanna go, then? Burger King?"

"Not really..." Jack looked up, pretending to be in deep thought. "Wendy's?"

Bobby shook his head, heading towards the hallway. "Sorry, kiddo, you can assert yourself all you want, but I'm not goin' to Wendy's. McDonald's in ten minutes, get dressed."

"Ass," Jack mumbled, forcing himself out of bed and stretching. Bobby just flipped him off and closed the door.

Jack couldn't refrain from smiling as he unlaced his skates, a flush of red coloring his cheeks from the amount energy pumping through his veins. Playing hockey with Bobby and his friends had been the most exhilarating thing he'd done in months, and he couldn't remember having that much fun in a very long time. True, Bobby's skates were a little too big, and his hockey stick felt awkward in Jack's hands at first, but after a couple of minutes Jack had been too absorbed in the game to care. The only time he'd felt an adrenaline rush like that was when he was on stage, and even that was beginning to pale in comparison.

"Hey, slowpoke." Bobby pushed himself up onto the picnic table where Jack sat, nudging Jack's skate with his own foot. Jack noticed that Bobby had already changed into his tennis shoes. "About done there?"

"Almost," Jack said, finishing with the laces on his right skate and moving to the left one. He heard Bobby chuckle at him softly, and he looked up, still smiling. "What?"

"Nothing." Bobby shook his head, grinning. He rested his arms on his knees, watching Jack unlace his other skate. "You looked like you were havin' fun out there."

"I was," Jack nodded, slipping off his skates as Bobby reached over to grab his shoes. "I haven't played hockey in so long."

"Yeah, it shows," Bobby teased, handing Jack his shoes. Jack took them, sticking his tongue out at Bobby, who shoved his arm lightly in response. "No, really, you weren't that bad. A little rusty, nothin' we can't fix."

Jack beamed. To him, that sounded like a promise of hockey games to come. "Oh yeah? I don't think I looked too rusty when I checked you into the fence."

"You think that was a check? That wasn't a check...remind me to teach you how to hit like a real man, not like a..."

"Don't," Jack interjected, glaring mockingly at Bobby as he started to tie his shoes. "Don't even say it."

"Say what?" Bobby feigned innocence as Jack shook his head. "I wasn't gonna say anything. Jesus, kid, you're fuckin' paranoid."

"Bobby..." Jack warned.

Bobby just shook his head, mumbling under his breath, "Fuckin' fairy."

"Alright, that's it!" Jack was up on his feet on top of the table, pushing Bobby's arm with his foot, throwing his hands up in the air in an exaggerated manner. "Come on, Mercer, show me what you got!"

Bobby snorted, staying seated and looking up at Jack with amusement. "You're fuckin' insane. Hyper as shit, I'm tellin' ya."

Jack laughed loudly, dropping back down next to Bobby and running a hand through his tousled hair. "Man...I feel like I could run a marathon."

"You should have come with a warning label, Jackie," Bobby smiled as he watched Jack breathe heavily through his mouth, his eyes following the wisps of condensation that resulted. "Do not expose to physical activity. Side effects include general weirdness and a crazy adrenaline rush."

Jack sighed, taking a deep breath of the cold winter air and looking around contently. "I could stay out here forever."

"We don't gotta go yet," Bobby said, but he wasn't grinning anymore. His sudden change in demeanor made Jack slightly nervous. "We could stay out here and talk."

Jack nodded, looking down at his feet. The energy rushing through him made the forthcoming discussion seem less daunting than before. "Okay. What do you wanna talk about?"

Bobby shrugged. "Whatever you want to talk about. Whatever you...need to talk about."

"I don't need to talk about anything," Jack said huffily. "You're the one who wanted to talk in the first place."

Bobby nodded. "I see how it is. I get to call the shots." He paused for a minute, thinking. "Okay. Let's just start from the beginning."

"The beginning of what?"

"Of you," Bobby said, and Jack looked at him like he was crazy. "You know, where you came from and shit. I figure if we talk about it now, we can avoid more of those weird feelings later."

"Okay," Jack took another big breath, trying to decide where to begin. He was flattered that Bobby wanted to know more about him, about his past, but...his past wasn't a pleasant one. "Well, I grew up without a mom or dad. I don't know what happened to them, if they're dead or just didn't want me or couldn't take care of me...but I moved around a lot. Group homes, sometimes...or I'd stay a month here, a couple of weeks there, you know how it is."

"I do," Bobby confirmed. "Welcome to my childhood."

Jack nodded. "Yeah. That's how it was until I was about ten. I'd never really been placed in one home for too long, and no one had really offered to adopt...I had some people offer to take me in when I was young, as sort of a...trial run. To see if they wanted to adopt me, I guess." He laughed bitterly at the thought. "Anyway, for whatever reason, they always fell through. But when I was ten, this family...the Robinsons...they took me in. Me and Chad."

"The bassist?"

"Yeah," Jack continued. "We'd both grown up in group homes, so when this couple said they wanted two kids, our social workers planned it out so we could go together. It was a pretty good deal for a while. I'm not really sure how long they kept me...long enough for me to think it was permanent, I know that much." He paused for a minute, kicking at the leg of the table, his faced twisted in thought, in remembrance. "But the Robinsons...they worked a lot. Business trips and all that shit. And Chad...he was almost sixteen then, and raising a ten year old...well, it just wasn't working out for them."

"Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson," Bobby said sarcastically, and Jack couldn't help but chuckle at that, even though there were traces of moisture in his eyes. He left out some details, like how much he'd liked the Robinsons, how much he'd wanted to be Chad's brother, how much it hurt when he was told he wasn't wanted anymore...

"So Chad became a full fledged Robinson, while I got shipped back to group homes and one-weekers," Jack continued, sighing regretfully. He looked up at Bobby, suddenly not wanting to finish his story. He didn't like what came next. "What about you?"

Bobby raised an eyebrow, his expression clearly stating I know you're not done there. But he ignored Jack's attempt to dodge the subject and began his own story.

"Well, it's pretty much the same at the beginning...shitty group homes and a bunch of bullshit people who think they're doing the community a service by takin' in kids for a week and then dumping them back where they found them." Jack was surprised at the amount of anger in Bobby's voice. He speculated that Bobby didn't talk much about his childhood. "I grew up pissed, and stayed pissed, and landed myself in trouble more times than I can remember. People would try and take me in, thinkin' they're fuckin' saints because they're rescuing the poor little misguided orphan child." Bobby chuckled, although Jack noticed the lack of actual humor in his laugh. "I just made their lives a living hell until they got rid of me."

Bobby paused, with a little grin that Jack realized was sincere. "I was...thirteen, I guess...when Evelyn found me. Took me in straight away, and refused to let me go, no matter what kind of shit I did. Told me she was gonna help me or die tryin'...I always thought she'd die before I calmed down...guess I was wrong."

"I spent the next year and a half actually tryin' to stay out of trouble," Bobby continued. "I let it slip to Ma that I'd always wanted brothers...three brothers to be exact." When Jack looked at him quizzically, Bobby just shrugged. "It just seemed like a good number, four of us in all. Four brothers. Anyway, she promised me she'd get me some brothers if she could. I was fifteen when she told me she had this kid in mind...younger than me, so I'd have to help take care of him. I was all for it, ready to seal the deal...until I got mixed up with some bad people, got in trouble with the cops. Ma asked how I was supposed to take care of a little brother when I couldn't even take care of myself."

"So you didn't get a brother?" Jack asked, feeling a sudden wave of pity for Bobby. He'd always wanted a brother, too, and never got one.

Bobby shook his head, continuing to look straight ahead, not really focusing on anything. "Nope. When I was seventeen we were gonna try again, with a kid a little older, only two years younger than me. Someone adopted him straight away, though, before we even had a chance. By that point I was so pissed off that I didn't even want a brother anymore. Ma started takin' in kids for a while, but they'd always get adopted in the end. Angel was the only one who stayed...he was too quiet for everyone except Ma. I was nineteen by that time...and I wasn't around much then." The last sentence was delivered with a definite air of regret. "Thought I was a big shot, was gonna make somethin' of myself." He snorted sarcastically. "Look where that got me."

Jack remained silent, watching Bobby's expressions change. He went from regretful, to pissed off, to sarcastic in a matter of seconds, and it made Jack dizzy. "How'd you end up back here?"

Bobby shrugged, rubbing his hands together. He'd almost forgotten for a moment that they were outside, and the winter chill was beginning to get to him, the energy from their hockey game wearing off. "I worked my way through Chicago for a while, fixing cars here, bartending there, same shit, different day. In the end, I just got tired of it, ran out of money, and moved back here." The corners of his mouth turned upwards in a slight smile. "Kind of sad, to be 25 and livin' with your mom."

"Nah," Jack protested, making a quick mental note of Bobby's age. "It's more pathetic to be sixteen and living on the streets."

"Not pathetic," Bobby corrected, blowing air into his hands for warmth. "Not if there's a reason." He paused, looking at Jack pointedly. Jack felt a shiver go up his spine, not solely from the chill. "You cold? You wanna go back now?"

"No," Jack shook his head adamantly. He knew he needed to talk about this, and now was the first time he'd ever been willing...or at least semi-willing...to say anything to anyone about it. He'd never told anyone, not even Chad. "No, I wanna stay."

"Okay," Bobby agreed. "So...you're not finished, then."

It wasn't really a question, but Jack shook his head anyway. "I moved in with John Davis and his girlfriend, Shannon, when I was thirteen..."

"Jack, wait," Bobby's voice was suddenly hesitant, cautious. He leaned forward a little, making sure that Jack was looking at him. "I'm not tryin' to push you into doing something you don't wanna. I know I kept asking about him, but if you really don't..."

"No, I do!" Jack raised his voice, suddenly frantic that Bobby was going to make him stop. He needed to tell someone about this, as much as he denied it earlier. Something about today made him feel more at ease with Bobby than with anyone else he'd ever met, and if he stopped now, he might never get the chance again. "No...really, I can. If you...if you want to know, I can tell you."

Bobby nodded, brows furrowed at Jack's sudden outburst. "Okay, Jackie, okay. Whatever you want to tell me, I'm listenin'."

"Okay," Jack breathed, momentarily relieved before he started to feel nauseous again. It seemed like such an overwhelming task, telling someone about his past. He'd always just kept it to himself, not wanting to create an awkward situation...or at least, that's what he told himself. In reality, Jack didn't exactly know why he'd never told anybody. He'd just never wanted to say it out loud. Maybe because it made it less real, that way...

"Shannon left John a couple months after I got there, saying that she didn't want the responsibility of taking care of a child...of me...anymore," Jack said, not knowing where else to begin. "She was...wild, I guess. She wanted a kid to prove that she could be responsible, but after awhile she just...took off. Couldn't handle the pressure."

"Shouldn't have taken it out on you," Bobby's voice was low, threatening. "She used a fuckin' kid as a damn experiment in responsibility."

"Whatever, it doesn't matter," Jack mumbled, but Bobby's words made him realize how much it had hurt. Shannon definitely hadn't been the first person to not want him, to give him up after a so called "test run." "Mattered to John, though. He started drinking, a lot...and yelling. Saying that I was worthless, that he never wanted me in the first place, that it was my fault that Shannon left..."

"It wasn't," Bobby cut in sharply. "It wasn't your fuckin' fault."

"I know," Jack responded, although he couldn't help but admit that it felt nice to hear someone say those words. It's not your fault. He could probably count the number of times someone had said that to him on one hand...perhaps on one finger. "Still made me feel like shit. I'd almost rather have the beatings...almost."

He paused for a minute, composing himself. He realized his hands were beginning to shake. "I was fourteen when they started. One night he just came upstairs and started beating the shit out of me...with a belt, with his hands, sometimes with a bottle of whatever alcohol he'd just finished. Anything he could find, really. He'd fuck me up until he passed out or I passed out, whichever came first. Kept tellin' me that I deserved it, that I was..."

"You didn't deserve it." Bobby was practically growling by this point. His hands were clenched together tightly, the whites of his knuckles standing out, and his face was contorted with anger.

"Yeah, well...whatever," Jack said, not trusting himself to say anymore because of the tears that were welling up in his eyes. He was partly touched by Bobby's reaction...he'd never had anyone become so protective of him. On the other hand, he was scared shitless of what he was about to tell Bobby. "That went on, for a while. I never...I never knew what to do. I felt like I was trapped. I couldn't run away, live on the streets at fourteen. I didn't want to tell my social worker, he'd stick me back in a group home and I'd never get adopted, with how old I was. So I stayed."

"And then," Jack took a deep breath, suddenly feeling the cold air for the first time. He started to shiver as he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep warm and to keep from shaking too much. He wanted desperately to be back in bed, curled up under the blankets, asleep. This was too much... "And then, they stopped. The beatings just stopped, all together. No more yelling, no more...no more anything. I couldn't believe it. I thought it was too good to be true." Jack looked down, feeling another tremor pass through him. "And it was," he whispered, not daring to look at Bobby. His stomach churned, a lump forming in his throat.

"Jack..." Bobby began, his voice suddenly filled with apprehension...and maybe a trace of fear, if Jack detected correctly. "Jack...what happened?"

Jack's vision blurred, and he refused to look up, suddenly embarrassed. What was Bobby going to think of him? His heart began to beat frantically in his chest, and even though the air was cold, his palms were beginning to sweat. Is he going to think that I'm pathetic, not being able to stop it? Is he going to think I'm disgusting, that I let it happen? Is he going to hate me?

"Jack," Bobby cut through his thoughts, and Jack wiped at his eyes with a shaking hand. "Are you okay? Just...what happened, Jack?"

"I didn't want him to, I swear," Jack began, his shaking voice pleading. His hands were trembling almost uncontrollably now, and the lump in his throat was making it hard to breathe. "He just told me...just told me to..." He took a deep, hiccupping breath, struggling to get air into his lungs, his chest heaving.

Bobby rested a hand on his shoulder, trying to get Jack to look at him. "Jack, listen...breathe, man. It's okay. You don't have to..."

"No, I do have to!" Jack almost yelled, still keeping his eyes locked on the ground. He took another frantic breath. He had to say this...he'd explode if he didn't. But Bobby...he didn't want Bobby to leave, to hate him. "Please, I can't...I don't...I didn't know..."

"Didn't know what?" Bobby asked gently. When Jack didn't answer right away, he nudged his shoulder a little. "Jackie? Didn't know what?"

"He just told me to...to take off my clothes...and when I asked why...he said...he said..." Jack took a big, gulping breath, wiping his eyes again. "He said...it was because he...loved me. Too much. He loved me too much. He said he couldn't...he couldn't...he said he loved me more...more than a father loves a son. He said he had to! He made me! I didn't know!"

Bobby remained silent for a moment, Jack trembling next to him, his breath coming in barely contained sobs. Then suddenly, he was up off the picnic table, his back to Jack, his fists clenched at his sides. "Fuck..." His voice was filled with anger.

"Bobby," Jack couldn't stop the tears that were trailing down his face. His nose was beginning to run, but he found he couldn't do anything about it. He was frozen in place, watching Bobby's back, pleading mentally that he would just stay...that he would understand, that Jack could make him understand. "Bobby, please...you have to...you have to..."

"Fuck!" Bobby yelled, his head titled up towards the sky. Jack suddenly noticed that it had started to snow, light flurries fluttering down from the gray clouds above. "Goddamn it..."

"I'm sorry," Jack whispered, not even trying to stop the sob that followed. His chest hurt, the lump in his throat feeling like it was going to explode while the knot in his stomach twisted tightly. He gasped, shaking hands covering his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"No, Jack! No," Bobby was suddenly at his side again, arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Jack felt Bobby's hand run up and down his arm slowly. "Don't you fuckin' apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. Do you hear me?"

Jack shook his head, sniffling. "No, no, I'm sorry. You're mad, and I'm sorry..."

"Jack...fuck, no!" Bobby suddenly grabbed his wrists, removing his hands from his eyes. Jack looked away immediately, but Bobby grabbed his chin and forced their eyes to meet. "Listen to me. Look at me and listen." Jack stared at Bobby, his breath still hitching every so often. Bobby's hand was still gripping his chin, but his eyes were soft. "I'm not mad at you. I will never be mad at you for something like that...for something that pervert did to you."

"But you're mad," Jack observed, his voice sounding like that of a frightened child. Bobby nodded, letting go of his chin.

"I'm fuckin' mad as hell," Bobby said, but although his words were harsh, his voice was calm. "At him...I'm fuckin' more than mad at him. But not at you. Never at you."

Jack nodded, wiping his eyes. He hunched his shoulders against the wind, shivering. "I got out, as soon as I could. But I couldn't...he wouldn't let me..."

"I know, Jackie, I know." Bobby rested his hand on Jack's back, feeling him tremble from the cold. "You're freezing, kid. Wanna go back to the house?"

Jack nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, the lump dissipating and his stomach beginning to settle. When he opened his eyes, Bobby was still there, watching him. "Yeah," he breathed, wanting nothing more that to just curl up on Bobby's couch with a blanket and sleep.

"Alright," Bobby said, standing. He grabbed Jack's skates and carried them to the car, Jack following close behind, wiping at his eyes to clear any remaining moisture. Bobby opened the car door, throwing the skates in the back seat with the rest of the gear he'd loaded before sitting down to talk with Jack. He dropped himself heavily into the driver's seat, resting his head back against the headrest wearily. When Jack slammed the passenger's side door shut, he looked over. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Jack's voice was only slightly above a whisper, but relief shone on his face. He gave Bobby a little smile. "I will be now."

Dicefreak: Thank you very much, I'm glad you're enjoying it! Poor Jack...how I torture him, making him think he's not worthy and such ;( We'll have to fix that later. That's such a compliment, saying that this is the best Four Brothers fic you've read! Thank you very much, but I'm sure there's definitely stories out there better than mine. I'm glad that you're intrigued about Chad...I was really apprehensive about writing an OC, but I think I'm okay with it now. Thanks for reading!

GavinVenom: Thank you! I'm glad I didn't wait to post the after Christmas, as well, because then I wouldn't have had as much motivation to write the next chapters. I know how hard it is to wait for the next chapter of a story to get posted, so thank's for being patient!

Rogue21493: Yay! I'm glad everyone is making theories about what's going to happen! I can't wait for you to see what really happens, and to see if you're right! Oh my, but Garrett does have a cute ass...possibly the best addition to the movie. I am envious that you have that picture. I hope you had a good Christmas, and I hope you have a happy New Year, too!

Ebz: Thank you very much! Glad you're still enjoying it! Yes, go you! Good work! You'll find out what's up with Angel very soon.

uandme72: Thank you, I'm glad you like it! More soon!

xXJackxXmy3rdXclassXrockXstarX: Thank you! Your reviews always make me blush with your compliments! I'm glad I have you faithful readers to give me your critique!

Sparks Diamond: Merry Christmas to you too! Thank you, I'm glad you liked it! Yes, the plot does thicken, and it will thicken even more...(insert evil laugh here). More coming soon!

jill: I'm glad you like it! More updates soon!

Pen Liddin: I love it when people make theories! Sorry, I can't tell you...I can tell you that the library thing will play a role later, but I won't say how! Thanks, I'm glad you like it!

anime-queen46: Thanks, glad you like it! I'll write more soon!