AN: I know I've been saying this almost every chapter, but you reviewers are too awesome. You've really given me the motivation to continue this story as fast as I have been, instead of procrastinating and letting it die (which I promise won't happen!). I did actually have a question that you guys could help me with...I took a break from fan fiction for a while, and when I came back, they had the new ratings system in place, which I admit I'm still a little shaky with. Right now, I have this story set at T, but if it needs to be moved up a rating because of some of the content (like Jack's past), the language, and the violence and such, I won't hesitate to move it up a notch. So one or two of you that are familiar with the rating system and how it works, if you could just include in your review your opinion, I'd really appreciate it! I don't want to offend anyone!

Okay, now that that's out of the way, here comes chapter eight! It's kind of a beast, so brace yourself for a long and bumpy ride! (p.s. Happy New Year!)

Angel shuffled out of the living room, rubbing the back of his neck and yawning as he entered the kitchen. He'd gotten up around ten that morning and had come down to watch some TV; however, finding that he could barely keep his eyes open, he'd fallen asleep on the couch a couple of minutes after he sat down. Now, he saw Evelyn sitting at the kitchen table, clipping coupons from the newspaper.

"Mornin'," he grumbled, scratching the side of his head as he sat down across from his mother. Evelyn smiled, not looking up from her busywork.

"Afternoon, you mean," she corrected, gesturing to the clock with an absent wave of her hand. Angel looked up, noticing that it was already after one. "Did you have a nice nap?"

"Mmmhmm," he murmured, suddenly recognizing the fact that he was extremely hungry. He realized he hadn't eaten dinner last night, and had slept straight through breakfast. Standing, he made his way over to the refrigerator and opened the door. "Anything to eat in here?"

"There's fruit in the bottom drawer," Evelyn answered, turning the page of the newspaper, "and some lunch meat on the shelf above it, if you'd like a sandwich."

Angel nodded, grabbing an apple and some ham out of the refrigerator and moving to the counter to make his sandwich. He got the bread out silently, placing a couple slices of ham onto each half before grabbing a paper towel and sitting back down at the table. He set the sandwich down on the paper towel, staring at it thoughtfully.

"You're quiet," Evelyn remarked, pushing the paper aside and folding her hands on top of the table, looking up at Angel. "Is everything alright, dear?"

Angel shrugged, picking at the crusts of his bread. "Just tired. I didn't get much sleep last night. Kept wakin' up." What he didn't say was that every time he'd woken up, he thought he was back in Iraq. He also didn't say that he'd been having nightmares for a couple of weeks, and although he'd expected them to stop upon his arrival back home, he'd had another one last night.

Evelyn nodded, seeming to know all of Angel's unspoken information even though he refused to share it. "It'll get easier with time, sweetheart." She reached over and rested a hand on his arm gently. "You know I'm here for you if you want to talk about anything."

"I know," he said, not looking up from his sandwich. "I just need...a routine. Somethin' to get back into."

"Well, like I said, Angel, I'm here to talk whenever you need me. Your brother is, too."

Angel couldn't hold back a sarcastic snort. "Yeah, I'm sure he is."

Evelyn shook her head disapprovingly. "So I'm correct in guessing that you and Bobby had an argument last night?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"No need to get smart with me, Angel, I'm not the one you're angry at," Evelyn chided. When Angel mumbled an apology, she smirked. "It's hard not to get that idea when you two come in slamming doors and not even speaking to one another. I'm sure you startled the daylights out of poor Jack."

"Yeah, poor Jack," Angel repeated, a note of bitterness apparent in his voice. He paused, letting Evelyn watch him in silence for a moment, before speaking again. "What do you think of him?"

Evelyn shrugged. "He seems like a nice boy. Polite...very quiet, but so are a lot of the kids that come around here."

"You alright with him stayin' here?"

"Of course," Evelyn began. She paused, as if she was choosing her next words carefully, before continuing. "Now I may be wrong, Lord knows I have been about these kinds of things before...but I'm guessing that Jack hasn't had too many people in his life that care about him."

Angel gave her a curious look. "Why do you say that?"

Evelyn smiled softly. "After you've seen as many children as I have...as many cases where a child comes to you, lacking the attention he or she needs...you tend to get a sixth sense about it. I think what Jack needs is someone to care about him...a friend."

"Yeah, well Bobby's got that one covered," Angel mumbled, finally picking his sandwich up and taking a bite. Through a mouthful of bread and meat, he said, "I don't get it."

"Close your mouth when you chew," Evelyn reprimanded, and Angel swallowed before continuing.

"I don't get what's up with Bobby and him. I mean, how long've they known each other?"

"Bobby brought Jack here from the bar after work about two nights ago," Evelyn stated, puzzled. "Why?"

"Well, you know Bobby," Angel said, taking another bite of his sandwich, chewing, and swallowing before elaborating. "He ain't really the type to make friends easily. Especially with sixteen year old kids he's known for two days. But he treats this kid like...I don't know. It don't add up."

"Ah, I see," Evelyn nodded, her voice knowing. "This is what your fight was about."

"What?"

"Sweetheart, you know that Bobby loves you." Evelyn stood and cleared the newspapers from the table as Angel chewed his sandwich, his apple still sitting on the table, untouched. "He's just trying to help Jack. Trying to be a friend to someone who desperately needs one. You're his brother, and he's very happy to have you home, as am I."

"Yeah, well it sure as hell couldn't hurt to act like it," Angel murmured, and Evelyn moved over behind his chair, placing a kiss on top of his head.

"Angel, if you're angry at Bobby, I think you should talk to him about it," she said, taking his paper towel as he finished his sandwich. He picked up his apple, moving it between his hands.

"Oh, we tried that," Angel said, mentally recalling the night before. "Bobby's version of talking wasn't exactly productive."

Evelyn rested her hands on his shoulders. "Then try again. You've both had a night to rest and cool down. Just tell him how you feel, dear. He'll understand."

"Maybe," Angel nodded, standing up from the kitchen table and moving towards the stairs. "He still asleep?"

"Actually, he was gone when I woke up this morning," Evelyn said. "Around eight."

"Bobby was up at eight?" Angel asked incredulously, halting in the living room. Bobby was usually never awake before noon. "Where'd he have to go that early?"

"I'm not sure. He mentioned wanting to play hockey the other day. Maybe he and Jack went to play a quick game."

"Right," Angel remarked bitterly with a roll of his eyes, sinking down into the couch cushions and staring blankly at the TV. "With Jack."

"Honey, you were asleep," Evelyn voiced from the kitchen. "He knows you need your rest."

"Whatever," Angel mumbled, taking a bite of his apple. Bobby and he would definitely be having that talk later.

The next time Angel opened his eyes, the living room and the kitchen were submerged in darkness, the light from the TV providing the only illumination the downstairs had to offer. Someone had draped a blanket over his legs, and he pushed it away as he sat up, looking at the clock. Finding that it was well past eight, Angel rubbed his face tiredly, shaking his head to clear the sleepy fog from his brain. Fuckin' jet lag.

He stared at the TV in a daze, trying to remember how and when he'd fallen asleep. He looked for the remnants of his half eaten apple, but found no trace of it anywhere around the couch. Deducing that Evelyn must have taken it back to the kitchen, he stood stiffly, yawning, and padded towards the stairs. It was relatively early, but he planned on immediately telling his mother goodnight and crashing until late the next day.

Dragging himself up the stairs, Angel paused when he heard voices coming from the room next to Evelyn's. He lingered outside in the hall, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the wall, trying to catch any fragments of the conversation that was going on behind the half closed door.

"...so you and Chad stayed in touch?" It was Bobby's voice, sounding tired but intrigued.

"Yeah," replied a voice that Angel guessed was Jack's. He hadn't heard Jack talk much, but he figured, slightly irritated, that where Bobby was, Jack probably wasn't far behind. "I never told him about John, though. He used to call pretty late at night...usually drunk or stoned or something. He'd wake John up, and John would get pissed and..."

"Yeah, I fuckin' get it." Angel was surprised at the distinct growl in Bobby's voice. "And this Chad character...he's still a friend of yours?"

"We're in the band together, you know that."

"That's not what I asked."

Angel heard Jack sigh. "Sure, we're friends...he's got my back."

"He gives me a weird feeling. One of those fuckin' Victor Sweet kind of things." Angel was completely shocked to hear Victor Sweet's name come up. He knew that Sweet was no good, and any mention of his name usually meant trouble. Why are they talkin' about him? Bobby isn't fuckin' around in Sweet's shit, is he?

"He...means well." Jack sounded hesitant, but sincere. "Chad's just a little...eccentric. He's always watched out for me, and he was the only friend I had for a while. I trust him."

"Not enough to tell him about John, though."

There was an awkward silence between Bobby and Jack, and Angel yawned, suddenly wishing he was asleep in his room. He knew that the sooner he had his conversation with Bobby, though, the sooner he could stop thinking and worrying about it. He reached out and knocked on the door.

"Yeah?"

Angel pushed the door open and saw that Jack was sitting on the bed, fingering a guitar pick and looking up at him awkwardly. Bobby, on the other hand, was sitting on the floor, head resting back against the bed, legs stretched out in front of him.

"What?" Bobby asked, and Angel almost flinched at the harsh tone of his voice. Apparently he's still angry.

"Um, Bobby, can I have a word with you?" Angel asked passively, motioning to the hallway. Bobby shrugged.

"I think you just had a couple of words there, so unless you'd like a couple more, I'm kind of in the middle of something here."

Angel's eyes narrowed, but he strived to keep his cool. Remember what Mom said. Productive talking...try again. "Listen, I just wanna talk for a second. I don't wanna fight. So can we please just have a decent conversation and figure some shit out between us?"

Bobby shook his head. "Well, Angel, like I said, I'm kind of in the middle of somethin' here. I also think it's a little rude that you interrupted me and Jackie's conversation, so whatever you have to say, you can say it right here."

"Bobby..." Jack spoke up, his voice a little nervous as he looked between the two brothers apprehensively. "You can go talk to him. Really, I don't care."

Both Angel and Bobby ignored Jack, and Angel clenched his fists together at his sides, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Productive. Stay calm. "I'd rather talk to you in the hall. In private."

"Well, I'd rather talk to you here," Bobby shot back. "Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it in front of Jack."

"Come on, Bobby, it doesn't matter," Jack pleaded, recognizing the argument that was about to take place. "Just go..."

"Why are you bein' such an asshole?" Angel suddenly lost his resolve, glaring at Bobby. "You've been on my goddamn back since I got home."

"I dunno what you're talkin' about, Angel," Bobby insisted.

"You're even bein' an asshole right now. I know you're still pissed at me about last night, but that's why I wanna talk about it."

"And all I'm sayin' that you can talk about it right here."

"I would rather not," Angel mumbled between clenched teeth. He was about this close to completely losing his cool...

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way," Bobby shrugged. Jack looked at Bobby in disbelief, not knowing what to say or do. "Because I don't really see why you can't say it..."

"Because he's not family!" Angel finally blurted out, making an angry motion towards Jack with his hand. Jack flinched like he'd been struck by a physical blow, glancing at Angel and back at Bobby with a look of hurt bewilderment. "Because I would like to have a personal conversation with my brother without having someone I don't even know listening in!"

Bobby stood, glaring daggers at Angel and motioning towards the hallway. "Outside. Now."

"Fine," Angel spat, following Bobby out of the room as Jack watched them both forlornly. When they entered the hallway, Bobby slammed the door, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Talk," Bobby demanded in a strained whisper, staring at Angel with an angry snarl. "You wanna fuckin' talk so badly that you gotta go around pissing people off to do it, then say whatever the fuck it is you wanna say, right now."

Angel let out a groan of frustration. "Come on, Bobby. Stop bein' such a fuckin' prick about this."

"Oh, so now I'm a prick?" Bobby raised his voice a little, leaning forward towards Angel. "I'm a prick because you had a hissy fit..."

"You know what? Forget it," Angel huffed, turning his back to Bobby. "I'm not gonna talk to you like this. Mom's asleep."

"Ma's out."

"I said forget it."

Bobby let out an irritated snort. "Right, because it was so fuckin' important a minute ago..."

"Alright, fine!" Angel whirled back around, suddenly in Bobby's face. "You wanna know what I'm pissed off about? I come home from Iraq, from fightin' a war, almost getting killed, and when I wanna talk to my own brother, who I haven't seen in almost a year, he completely blows me off for someone else he just met."

"I'm not blowing you off..."

"Yes, you are!" Angel insisted. "Just now! I wanted to talk, and you had to be a complete asshole about it."

"Jack's had a rough day..."

"Jack's had a rough day?" Angel asked unbelievingly. "I don't think you understand the shit I've been doin'. I killed people, Bobby. I'm wakin' up in the middle of the night thinking I'm still back in that shithole."

"Angel," Bobby's voice was suddenly calm as he placed a hand on Angel's chest. "Let's not do this now. Let's not fight over who's shitty situation is worse, that's gonna get us nowhere. We'll talk tomorrow, okay? I promise."

"You promise to stop bein' an asshole?"

"If you promise to stop..." Bobby began as he pushed open the door again, but stopped dead when he looked inside. Jack was no longer sitting on the bed, and his backpack, his shoes and his jacket were all absent from their previous locations. What was even more disheartening, though, was the fact that the window was wide open, the frigid winter wind blowing into the room and creating a sudden ominous atmosphere.

"Shit," Bobby mumbled, hurrying over to the window and shoving his head out into the night air, looking around. There was no trace of Jack anywhere. "He's fuckin' gone."

"Where the hell'd he go?" Angel asked, following Bobby into the room. Bobby just shook his head, leaning his arms against the window and staring out into the street.

"Goddamn it, Jack."

Jack walked quickly down the middle of the street, his shoulders hunched and his head down. His face was hot and flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and distress. Angel's words rang in his ears, an icy feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. He's not family. I don't want him listening in. He shivered, pulling his jacket around him tighter and walking a little faster. Jack wanted to get away from the Mercer house as quickly as possible, before Bobby could come looking for him. He'd climbed out the window in desperation, jumping from the roof to the ground in an unsteady, but harmless, leap.

He wasn't angry at Bobby, or at Angel really, but to say he wasn't upset would have been a flat out lie. The day had been long enough as it was, with Jack using an enormous amount of mental strength to tell Bobby about his past. When he'd gotten back to the Mercer house, all he'd wanted to do was sleep. Of course, when Bobby had come into his room...

Not my room, Jack's mind told him. He kicked a rock angrily, watching it bounce down the street as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

When Bobby had come into the room where he'd been sleeping, looking to talk, Jack had, of course, agreed. Talking with Bobby, he found, didn't require much effort. Not like talking with his social worker, where he'd been forced to listen to the redundant speeches of how "Maybe this time will be permanent," and "I know you'll find a good home someday." Not like talking with Chad, where he was constantly criticized and looked down upon, made to feel inferior and painfully young. Not like talking to John, where every word could mean a beating...or worse.

No, Bobby hadn't treated him like a stupid street kid, or an orphan looking for a home, or pathetic loser who couldn't stop bad things from happening to him. Jack couldn't help but feel that Bobby and he had some kind of connection, not just because of the weird feelings they'd been having, but because of something else entirely. Bobby, from the moment they'd met, had treated him like a friend, almost like family, and Jack, never having a real family of his own, had grasped onto that blindly, throwing any reservations to the wind and trusting Bobby wholeheartedly.

Which was a big mistake, Jack thought angrily. Bobby already has a family. Of course this doesn't matter as much to him as it does...as it did to me.

The way Jack saw it, the little fantasy world he'd been living in for the past couple of days was now gone. The time when shared weird feelings in a bar, late night hockey games on the living room couch, and burnt breakfasts in the kitchen were normal occurrences was over. Jack figured he was now doomed to his previous life once more: where every night was a struggle to find something to eat and a dry place to sleep.

Angel made it very clear. Jack wiped at his eyes, frustrated at his blurring vision and shaking hands. I'm not part of their family...and they don't want me as part of their family.

By the time Jack looked up from the ground, his train of thought had led him to believe that Bobby had only befriended him out of pity, as a sort of good deed for the year. As for the weird feelings, Jack was suddenly embarrassed for revealing his suspicions about the book to Bobby. They're just feelings, like Bobby said. Nothing to take seriously. Maybe there's no explaining what happened between us...and neither of us have had one of those feelings lately, anyway. Maybe there's just no explaining it at all. It's nothing, just some stupid...

Jack looked around, suddenly noticing that he was standing on Chad's front porch, without having any idea of how he got there. He wondered how long he'd actually been walking, realizing that the Mercer house was quite a long distance from Chad's. Shaking his head in disbelief, he looked over at Chad's front window, noticing that the living room light was on. It's better than sleeping on the street.

Reaching up and knocking on the door, Jack felt his stomach drop, a feeling of panic abruptly washing over him without any explanation. His palms began to sweat, like they had earlier that day, and the lump returned to his throat. For some reason, Jack suddenly wanted nothing more than to be miles away from Chad's house. Something in his mind told him that this was a bad idea...a very bad idea...

As soon as the door opened, Chad appearing in front of him wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a loose long sleeved shirt, Jack snapped out of his panicky state. He wiped his hands on his jeans as the lump disappeared from his throat. What the hell was that?

"Hey," he mumbled, shoving his hands back into his pockets and refusing to look Chad in the eye. Chad leaned against the door frame, yawning, gazing at Jack through half lidded eyes.

"What do you want?" he asked lazily. Jack shrugged

"You know what I want, man," he said, his voice strained and tired. He'd had an emotionally exhausting day, and wanted nothing to do with Chad's mind games right now. "Just let me crash here tonight."

"Why? Boyfriend kick you out?" Chad asked, raising an eyebrow, while Jack shook his head, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Please, not tonight, okay?" Jack insisted, moving to push past Chad into the house. As Jack approached the doorway, Chad stuck an arm out, blocking his path into the living room. Jack stopped abruptly, shooting a confused look at Chad before turning his outstretched hands upward in a bewildered gesture. "What?"

"Maybe I don't feel like givin' you a place to sleep tonight," Chad crossed his arms again, but Jack was too startled to move inside. "Maybe I don't like the way you've been treating me lately."

"Chad, please," Jack started, feelings his legs begin to shake from a mixture of the cold and the exhaustion that wracked his body. "Please, not tonight. I'm just really tired, and I wanna go to bed. I don't know what you're talking about, but I swear we can fix whatever it is first thing tomorrow morning."

"Don't think so, man." Chad shook his head, his tone unenthusiastic and uncaring. "Go stay with your bartender buddy."

"I can't. Not tonight."

Chad shrugged. "Not my problem. Hate for you to have to learn these things the hard way, Jackie."

"Please." Jack was close to begging now, feeling like he was going to collapse with fatigue. His head hurt, his stomach ached, his legs shook, and he hadn't been this miserable since...well, since before he'd run away. "Please, Chad, just tonight. I thought we were friends."

"So did I. But you've been treatin' me like shit lately, so I think you need a little time to reevaluate this friendship."

"How, Chad?" Jack pleaded. "How have I been treating you like shit? Tell me and I'll stop."

"Yeah, you'll stop tonight." Chad backed further into the living room, placing a hand on the side of the door. "I don't like bein' taken advantage of, Jackie. I offered you a place to stay here, and I expect a little gratitude for that."

"I am grateful!"

"Well, you don't show it," Chad started to close the door, but Jack reached out, stopping him in the process. Chad sighed exasperatedly. "I said no, Jack. If you're gonna blow me off for someone you just met two days ago, then you're gonna pay the consequences. Go stay with him."

"I told you, I can't!"

"Then find somewhere else to sleep." Chad pushed the door closed, and Jack stared at it for a moment, blinking. He placed a hand on the door, resting his forehead against the wood.

"Chad, please!" He waited, listening, for an answer. There was none. "Chad!" Nothing. "Goddamn it!" he yelled, kicking the door with a sudden renewal of strength. He bounded down the stairs, jogging away from the house and down the street until he felt like he was going to pass out. He turned into an alley, falling sideways against the wall as he struggled to breathe around the lump in his throat.

Jack, listen...breathe, man. It's okay. Bobby's words from earlier that morning flooded his mind, causing his eyes to well up with tears as his knees gave out. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to be sitting with Bobby on his couch, watching hockey, wrapped up in a warm blanket. Instead, he was kneeling in a dirty alley, freezing, hungry, and beginning to cry.

He scooted into the darkest corner of the alley, pushing his back against the brick wall and curling his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. He swallowed thickly, wiping angrily at the tears that wouldn't cease from running down his cheeks. Fighting a sob that was lodged in the back of his throat, he shrugged off his backpack, setting it down next to him. For a moment, he considered getting up and finding his way back to the Mercer house, but quickly dismissed it.

I've already fucked up my life, he thought miserably. I'm not gonna fuck up theirs.

Shivering uncontrollably, Jack spotted a small metal trash can on the other side of the alley, and stood shakily, grabbing a pack of matches out of his pocket. He struck one, watching the flame dance for a moment, transfixed by its light, before tossing it into the barrel. He waited as the flames engulfed the contents of the trash can, then stretched his hands out over the warmth, letting the heat soothe him and diminish the chill. He shuffled back to his backpack, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from inside and lighting one up. He sank down to the ground again, smoking slowly as his hand shook, rubbing the tears off of his face. The nicotine calmed his nerves slightly, but he found that it couldn't get rid of the way his stomach hurt or the way his chest felt too tight.

After finishing the cigarette, he flicked it into the burning trash can, grabbing his backpack and placing it closer to the barrel. He moved to lie down, resting his head on his backpack and tucking his legs close to his body for warmth. Without the soothing warmth of the fire or the cigarette in his hand, another sob built within his throat as the tears he'd worked hard to wipe away returned.

I'm sixteen, homeless, and sleeping in an alley in the middle of winter in Detroit. The only family I've ever had took advantage of me, and the only friends I've ever had I pushed away.

Jack closed his eyes tightly, rubbing his hands up and down his arms, trying to create some more warmth than what the small fire could offer. For the first time in a long time, he was truly concerned with whether he could survive living on his own anymore.

Then again, he thought, it's not much of a life I have, anyway.

The next morning, Jack found himself back on Chad's porch, pounding angrily on the door. He was now wearing a long sleeved shirt and a hoodie from his backpack under his coat, finding the cold unbearable last night in just his t-shirt and jacket. His eyes were red rimmed, bloodshot and tired. After practically crying himself to sleep the night before, Jack had woken up with a new sense of clarity. If he was going to survive on his own, he was going to have to take control. When Chad opened the door, he didn't say a word, just pushed past him into the house.

"Mornin'," Chad mumbled as Jack barged in, closing the door and meandering back to the couch. He grabbed a half eaten bowl of cereal off the coffee table, stirring the last few of his Cocoa Puffs absently. "Have a nice night?"

"Shut the fuck up," Jack said harshly, walking over to the basement door and turning the knob sharply, finding it locked. "Open the goddamn door."

"Well, aren't we a little pissy..." Chad began with a smirk, putting the bowl back down, but Jack cut him off, slamming his hand against the door.

"Just open the fucking door!" he yelled, feeling an inward spark of satisfaction as Chad blinked, taken aback. "I'm serious, Chad. I'm getting my shit and getting the hell out of here. Unlock the door, I want my guitar."

"What's your problem, Jackie?"

"Don't call me that!" Jack felt himself growing angrier and subsequently more confident as he continued to speak. "I'm so sick of all your shit! Pretending you're my friend, and then feeding me some bullshit about how I'm taking advantage of you! You left me out in the cold, Chad! I've had enough, okay? I'm getting the fuck out of here before you do any more shit to me like you did last night!"

Chad regained his composure, standing and nodding, walking slowly over to Jack. "Okay. While I appreciate the sudden display of balls, I can't let you leave."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because you're sixteen, you're stupid, and you need to get your ass off the street before your ignorance gets you killed."

Jack snorted, sneering at Chad. "So what are you saying? That out of the fuckin' goodness of your heart, you're just gonna pretend that last night didn't happen and have me live here and leech off of you for the rest of my life?"

"Of course not." Chad grinned eerily, sending a shiver down Jack's spine. He grabbed Jack's shoulders, their eyes meeting in a sudden chilling display of wills. "I called your daddy."

Jack's insides froze, his mind reeling as he threw Chad's hands off of him. When he spoke, his voice shook. "What?"

Chad chuckled, watching Jack's face turn pale. "You're ridiculous, thinking that you could run away and live on your own. I respect whatever little argument you had with John, but I think it's about time to..."

Bur Chad couldn't finish, because Jack suddenly punched him in the mouth so hard that his head whipped around and he doubled over, grabbing the side of his face. "Fuck, Jack! What the hell was that for?"

"You asshole!" Jack screamed, beginning to panic. John was coming...John was coming here, to this house, to find him. "You fucking asshole! Why would you do that?"

"It's for your own good," Chad murmured, straightening up and wiping his now bleeding lip. "You'll thank me later, I'm sure."

"Shit," Jack swore under his breath, his hands trembling as he ran his fingers nervously through his hair. He had to get out before John got there. Before John could take him away... "When did you call him?"

Chad shrugged, seemingly unfazed by Jack's anger. "He should be here any minute."

Jack shot one last longing glance at the basement door, knowing he'd have to leave his guitar behind if he wanted to make a quick exit. He had only one thought on his mind now: get to Bobby. Bobby was the only one that knew about John, and he was sure that Bobby was the only one that could, and would, help him, despite what Angel said or thought. Jack grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders and hurrying to the front door, preparing to make a run for the Mercers' house as he mentally mapped out his route. However, when he reached the door, Chad grabbed his arm roughly.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" Chad asked, and when Jack pulled his arm away, he pushed Jack up against the door, digging the heels of his hands into Jack's shoulders. "I don't think so. It's called an intervention, Jackie. I told ya, I gotta keep you here for your own good."

"Fuck, let me go!" Jack was becoming hysterical now, trying to squirm out of Chad's grip as the older boy kept a tight hold on him. "Let me go! You don't understand! I have to leave! I have to fuckin' leave before he..."

Suddenly, a knock on the door cut Jack's yelling short, and he ripped himself out of Chad's grasp, darting to the other side of the room. He pushed his back flat against the wall, his entire body shaking. He was trapped. He was trapped inside the house, with John Davis on the other side of the door, waiting to take him back to the hell he'd lived through once before. He closed his eyes, bracing himself as Chad opened the door.

When he reopened his eyes, a tall man, well over six foot, loomed in the doorway. His hair was longer and thinner than the last time Jack had seen it. His arms, however, were larger, more muscular, causing Jack to gasp in apprehension. One side of his mouth turned upward in a twisted grin as he placed his hands on his hips, watching Jack tremble with an odd sense of accomplishment in his eyes.

"Well, well," John murmured. "Ready to go home, son? It's about damn time."

Gavin Venom: Thank you! Poor Jack, how I torture him...

Br00klyn Babe: Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it! Protective Bobby is my favorite :) I'm definitely going to write more, this damn story won't leave me alone, and with the way I'm writing it's never going to end! I'll update again soon!

Dicefreak: I'm not entirely sure what the M. is for (if it's for anything at all, or just a type), but thanks for reviewing anyway!

jill: Thank you, I'm glad you liked it! I also love it when people make theories...and I hate it that I can't tell them if they're right! You'll have to wait until the end to see! Updates coming as soon as possible!

Ebz: He is indeed an evil man, to hurt poor Jackie like that...sometimes I hate these characters I create! Thanks for reviewing!

nina: Thank you very much! I'm really glad you like it! I love angsty Bobby and Jack as well. I'll be posting new chapters soon!

Sparks Diamond: Yes, indeed, poor Jack...and don't worry, the plot will thicken more in the next couple of chapters! Thank you very much!

Ophelia Hyde: Okay, babe, since you had two lengthy reviews, you get one very lengthy answer. (deep breath) I'm glad your not apoligizing this time, so I won't refuse to answer your review...or something like that. I'm glad you liked my characterization of Angel, I think he was definitely the hardest to write because they didn't delve too deep into him in the movie. As for Jack reading, that was just one of those that wouldn't let go until I wrote it...and it helped me develop a major plot point, too! Poor poor Jack, the things that I do to him...(sigh) oh well, it'll all get better eventually, right? Protective Bobby is love, and as for your theory...I can't tell you! You'll have to wait and see! I thought that the parellel universes things wouldn't be something Bobby would come right out and believe, no matter who told him about it. We'll see if we can't work on him, there ;) Alright, I think that about covers it! Thanks so much for reading and for your wonderful reviews and compliments!

xXJackxXmy3rdXclassXrockXStarX: I'm glad you liked it! (blushes) A masterpiece, it is not, but I'm really glad you're enjoying it! I use a lot of detail so that the reader can invision the scene in their head, and I hope its working! Thank you so much!

anime-queen46: Thank you! Let's just say, I don't think Bobby's gonna let that one go easily, if you know what I mean ;)

Wolf10: The internet is a tricky thing, isn't it? Thank you very much, that's such a compliment! I really appreciate it, and I'm glad you're enjoying it! Jack and Bobby were definitely my favorites in the movie, as well, and its been really fun developing their already strong personalities that they had in the movie. Next update coming soon!