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Sounds in the Air

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Summary: Detroit may be a hard, violence-ridden place to live, but someone has to call the cops during a gunfight, right? Well, someone did, and the cops arrive in time to break up a fight that might still claim the life of Jack Mercer.

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Chapter Four: Breathe

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Bobby kept his attention split between Jerry's conversation in the hall with Camille and Angel's recount of his army exploits for Jack. Angel's was more interesting, sure, but there was always something wonderful about hearing one of his brothers try to sweet talk a woman and fail miserably.

He had absolutely no problems with Camille. They all got along as best as anyone could probably hope for considering she was a respectable lady and her husband's brothers were, well, them. He appreciated that she was concerned for Jack, but understood why she didn't want Jerry spending all of his time at the hospital.

Still, Jeremiah was determined to stay with Jack, at least until he woke up and Bobby wasn't going to pull him aside to convince him otherwise, even if he and Angel had sent him home to spend time with their nieces.

No matter how many hours of conversations went on around Jack, he didn't stir. It had been five days since he'd been shot and over a full day since the doctors had taken him off of what Angel called 'coma juice'.

Bobby had never been a patient man, even if he'd been the one to remind his brothers that Jack would need a long time to recover. They were all going insane, waiting for Jack to open his eyes.

"So there we are, in the middle of fuckin' nowhere, with some dude, a goat and a grenade launcher. Man you have never seen a General of the United States look like such a…"

Angel kept on, laughing at his own story and mixing it up with repeated mentions of Jack's name, as they'd been instructed.

Outside, Camille didn't seem to be making much headway. "What happens if Jack needs you all and you're too exhausted to do anything for him?"

"I seem to recall making the same damn argument to you in September when the girls had the flu. What'd you say? Jeremiah Mercer, my babies need me, I can sleep later!" Jerry mimicked Camille's voice. "Well, Jack ain't my baby, and this sure as shit ain't a cold, but I think you hear my point."

Camille put her hands on her hips and Bobby quietly chucked, sliding down in his chair to watch as the show got better.

"Jack?"

Angel had said Jack's name over a hundred times in the last hour, but this was different. Bobby's head snapped back to Angel and Jack. "What happened?"

"He scrunched his nose up. I saw it man, I swear I did." Angel said, staring at Jack as if he was about to break out into a dance. "Yo Jerry!"

Bobby didn't pay attention to the others, his whole being focused on Jack. "Jack? Come on, Jackie. It's Bobby and Jerry and Angel. You're in the hospital, but you're going to be okay." He whispered intensely. "Open your eyes, Jack. Please."

Slowly, Jack's eyes fluttered open and lolled around, obviously out of it and confused. Bobby didn't care much either way, so long as they were open. "Hey, Jack." He greeted, voice choking up in a way he'd swear never happened later.

Behind them, Jerry whooped. "Don't fall asleep again, Jackie. I'm getting a doctor."

Angel gently messed up Jack's hair. "Good to see you again, Jack."

Camille merely beamed, leaving the moment for the brothers.

Jack's eyes scanned the room briefly before locking on Bobby. "Bobby…" He whispered when he seemed to realize who he was with. Bobby found himself profoundly grateful that they'd taken Jack of the ventilator the day before, just so he could hear real confirmation that Jack was still Jack.

"What's up with the Sleeping Beauty act, Cracker Jack?" Bobby teased.

Jack shifted in the bed, or tried to, at least. His eyes widened as he did, probably becoming aware of the pain for the first time. Angel immediately pushed a gentle but firm hand on Jack's shoulder to try and keep his still broken body still.

"Easy, Jack." Bobby said, putting his hand in Jack's and letting his little brother grip it to help with the pain he'd inadvertently awakened. "The doctor is coming, he'll give you some real good stuff, okay?"

"Bobby?" Jack repeated a little breathlessly.

"Don't talk, okay? Your lung got torn up a little." Bobby explained. Jack didn't seem to comprehend and let his eyes drift over to a grinning but obviously concerned Angel.

"Jerry is going to be right back, Jackie." Angel promised. "Doctor is probably going to give you something that'll put you right back under, as if we haven't been waiting for you this whole time."

"Whole time?" Jack asked, his voice barely a croak. Bobby wanted to give him water, but wasn't sure what the procedure on that was. The kid did have fuckin' holes in him, after all.

Luckily, he was spared both an answer and having to wonder about how to help Jack with the pain when Jerry showed up, doctor and nurses in tow.

Dr. Bowen smiled at Jack like they were old friends, even though the kid had no clue who he was. "I see you're awake at last, Jack. Your brothers were probably going to go mad if you didn't open your eyes soon." He greeted, not even joking. "I'm going to need them to step out for a second while we look things over." He let his eyes drift to Bobby, who completely admitted to being an asshole about leaving Jack for exams.

This time, he wasn't going to put off Jack getting some more pain meds. "Jack, we're going to be right outside…"

"No…" Jack said, holding tighter to Bobby's hand.

"It's okay, Jack." Jerry said, smiling at Jack as though there was nothing wrong in the world at all. "We won't go far."

Jack still looked upset, his eyes pleaded with Bobby to stay and dammit if Jack wasn't breaking Bobby's heart. "Jack, trust me. You're safe, we'll be right outside." Bobby whispered, leaning in close to Jack. "Trust me." He repeated.

It was a long moment before Jack nodded a little, his eyes still troubled and confused, but he was no longer tensely gripping Bobby's hand. He didn't say anything and neither did his brothers as they slowly backed out of the room. Bobby glared at the nurse that closed it, but she didn't seem to be taking him very seriously.

"I'm going to call the girls," Camille said, giving each of them a kiss on the cheek. Amelia and Daniela probably didn't need to be notified of Jack's consciousness immediately, but she was obviously using the excuse to give them a moment.

Angel, out of nowhere, pumped his fist in the air and yelled, "Fuck yeah!"

"Keep your voice down, man." Jerry half heartedly scolded.

Bobby grinned at them both, finally able to. He'd been so afraid for Jack… But now, with his boy awake, they could finally start to get him healed enough to go home. "That Sleepin' Beauty joke is going to happen a lot, just to warn you guys."

"Aw, lay off him." Jerry said, smacking Bobby on the shoulder and ducking when Bobby swung back. They were all grinning like fools, but none of them could bring themselves to care.

Jack was awake.

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Two hours later, after Jack's exam and the initial burst of drugs that had made Jack loopy wore off a little, they were finally able to talk, though Jack was still in a kind of a 'no worries' frame of mind, to put it mildly

"I can't wait to see your face when you see her, Jack." Jerry grinned, laughing. He was, of course, referring not to Camille or Sofi, but to the linebacker nurse that they joked was giving him sponge baths.

"Her?" Angel said with his eyebrow raised, "Try 'It' or maybe even 'Him', ya know?"

Jack smiled wide, but didn't dare laugh. He'd learned the hard way that it just wasn't worth it yet. "Shuddup," He told them, still a little breathless, "… liars…"

Bobby shook his head, "It's true, Jackie." He assured the younger. Really, the nurses had been good to them and Jack, but teasing his brother felt as close to home as they were going to get anytime soon.

It was probably something on his face that tipped Jack off. "Bobby?" He asked, a little hesitant.

Jerry shot him a look that roughly translated out into What the fuck are you doing getting him nervous, quit being an ass and Angel silently seconded him.

"Yeah, Jackie?" Bobby drawled, leaning back into his chair as though he didn't have a care in the world.

Jack looked down at his hands as he twisted them around in his lap. "I know it was stupid."

Cocking an eyebrow, Bobby slid his hand into Jack's, keeping him from fidgeting much more. "You're always stupid, Jack, you're gonna have to be more specific."

Angel rolled his eyes, but Jack didn't seem to notice the insult. Bobby told himself it was because he was distracted, not because Jack got insulted by his older brother so much that he didn't pay him much mind anymore.

"Running out like that, just 'cause some little asshole threw a snowball at me." Jack said.

The brothers traded glances. A snowball? Jack got shot over a fucking snowball?

"So some kid rings the doorbell, throws a snowball at you and you ran out for like, revenge?" Jerry asked, sounding a little surprised. Why should he be though? Jack was barely twenty, he should be able to chase after some little shit and throw snowballs if that was what he wanted to do. He shouldn't have to worry about that little shit turning around and opening fire on him.

Jack didn't say anything, but the suddenly miserable look on his face said it all.

"It was a mistake, Jack." Bobby said evenly, not willing to let Jack worry about the past that long, especially when he was still so weak. "A stupid one, you're right, but still a mistake. Angel's made stupider ones."

Jack smiled a little, but he still looked pretty pathetic. Angel glared at Bobby, but it was only half-hearted. "Yeah, Jack. Bobby, the dickwad, is right. How you were supposed to know that he was going to attack you?"

"We were asking around about some guy willing to put a hit out on Mom, I should have know that it wouldn't take long for that to get back to him." Jack said. Of course it had to seem so reasonable now, when he was already shot and out of it on medication in a hospital they probably couldn't afford.

Bobby could easily sense the direction of Jack's thoughts. He smiled and held the back of Jack's head, forcing his younger brother to look at him. "Listen, Jackie, what's done is done. I don't want you obsessing over it. All you've got to worry about now is getting better and coming to terms with your homosexuality. That's it. Let us worry about the rest."

Angel rolled his eyes and Jerry groaned, but Jack didn't seem to mind (must be some fuckin' awesome drugs…). Later, they'd probably have to hash it out for real, but right then Jack's brothers and half-shut down brain concurred: leave it for later.

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Bobby was exhausted and that was the only reason why Jerry and Angel had won their argument. Go home they said, get some rest. Yeah, as if his sleep was going to be any kind of peaceful. The house was in shambles, bullets and broken glass everywhere. It would take a hell of a clean-up crew to fix the thing. Bobby knew his way around a hammer and nails, but it was beyond him. He hoped Jerry wasn't going to get bitchy when most of Mom's life insurance money was going to go towards the house and Jack.

Angel, quoting Bobby's earlier insistence that he get some real rest, had insisted that he not return for at least five or six hours. It had been four, but no jarhead was going to keep him out.

Making his millionth circuit around the hospital to the ICU helped clear Bobby's head. The second that Jack had opened his eyes, he'd been so genuinely happy – the sort of happy that he'd been sure he hadn't felt in years… that he was sure he wouldn't feel again after their mother's death. Jack was still in a lot of pain, had some trouble breathing and was constantly under the influence of a shit-ton of drugs, but he was Jack and he was alive. That was all that mattered.

When Bobby opened the door to Jack's room, he tried to be as quiet as possible. If Jack was sleeping, he didn't want to wake his little brother up. The scene he opened the door to, however, made him forget that he was trying to be quiet. "What's wrong?"

Jerry was sitting at the head of the bed next to Jack, who had on an oxygen mask that hadn't been there before Bobby had left. Jerry was talking quietly to Jack, who seemed to be awake. Angel was sitting on Jack's other side, holding Jack's hand but otherwise leaving him to Jerry. When Bobby came in, Angel let Jack's hand go and stood to meet him at the door.

"His fever went kinda high and he started having trouble breathing." Angel explained, looking as tired as Bobby felt.

Bobby's eyes narrowed as he took in the oxygen mask, "They said his lungs were strong enough to be off the ventilator."

"They are, but I guess he just needs a little extra help." Angel said. He sounded like he was quoting a doctor and Bobby knew that he probably was.

Without another word to Angel, Bobby walked over to Jerry's side. His first brother was talking quietly to Jack, little jokes mixed in with a steady stream of encouragement and comfort. "Shove over, Jeremiah. Let a veteran handle this."

The words were maybe a little untrusting, but Bobby gripped Jerry's shoulder, letting him know that Bobby approved, but just wanted to be close to Jack for a bit. Jerry whispered something else to Jack and stood, but not without shoving Bobby for a second.

"Asshole,"

Bobby sent the barest of grins Jerry's way before sitting down in his seat. One good look at Jack and he had to use all of his control to keep even that tiny smile on his face. The kid's eyes were glassy and unfocused, like he wasn't really seeing anything and his face was flushed. Obviously, there was a reason Angel hadn't mentioned just how far his fever had climbed.

"Hey, Jack." Bobby said, getting in close to help Jack see him. He wasn't sure if it did anything, because Jack didn't seem to notice that he'd been pawned off to another brother. Not that it really mattered, but it would have been nice for Jack to notice that he was there or even that someone had moved in front of him.

Jack didn't answer, but Bobby didn't expect him to. "What, I go away for a few hours and you decide to punish me for it? Not cool, Jackie." The minute Bobby said it, he decided it was a bad idea. Jack was known for his intense guilt complex and the lasting legacy of Detroit's finest foster parents (yeah fucking right) left him with the belief that everything ever was his fault. It took a lot to get him out of that mindset, but Bobby knew he revert back at the first sign of stress, and their last few weeks had been nothing but stress. Fuck, their entire lives were stress.

Before Jack could process what Bobby had said, hopefully, he switched tracks and kept talking. "It's okay, Jack. You'll feel better soon." He said, laying a hand on Jack's forehead. He almost swore when he felt the intense heat coming off of him, but held it back. "I know you're hot, but it'll pass, Jack."

Bobby kept talking softly to a little brother who obviously didn't really get his words. Early on with Jack, Bobby had realized that a lot of the time it didn't matter what he said to his brother, but the tone of voice that he said it in. Now, it was definitely a useful lesson.

Time seemed to slow as the fever wracked Jack's already exhausted and injured body. By the time the fourth hour had passed, Bobby was getting hoarse (but no less willing) talking and Angel was sitting as close to the bed as he could get, running his hand through Jack's sweat-soaked hair. Jerry was in the hall, talking to the nurse and darting his eyes back to them every few seconds.

Jack interrupted Bobby's litany by whimpering, the sound cutting though his two brothers.

"Shh, Jack." Bobby said, trying to sound as soothing as possible. Mom and Jerry were way better suited to bedside vigils than Bobby, but he hadn't relinquished his spot since he'd gotten there. No way was he going to.

Jack wasn't having it, his eyes moved around the room listlessly before landing as close to Bobby has they'd gotten in a while. There was a strange shuffling sound under the mask and for one awful second Bobby thought that Jack was having trouble breathing even with the extra oxygen. They couldn't put him back on that fucking ventilator…

"Tell us later, Jackie." Angel said and Bobby's eyes narrowed in on what Angel had noticed first: Jack's lips were moving. He was talking underneath the mask.

"Yeah, Jack, you need to keep that on." Bobby said, reaching up and grabbing Jack's limp hand when he made a move that looked like he was going to try to take the mask off. Like that would have gone over well.

Almost frantically, Jack shook his head and tried to reach up again. Sighing, Bobby decided that letting him get upset was probably worse than a few seconds without the mask. If it seemed like Jack was gearing up to say a lot, for what would possibly be the first time ever, then Bobby would have to cut him off. "Okay, Cracker Jack. What's up? Thirsty?"

Gently, Bobby lifted the mask off of Jack's face. Jack whispered and, like some lame-ass sitcom, Bobby and Angel had to lean forward just to hear him.

"Mom? Mom… please…"

The second the words really registered in Bobby's brain, he reared back. He barely even noticed when Angel, hands suspiciously shaking, fixed the mask back on Jack's face. Jack's whispered request kept repeating in Bobby's head. If the situation wasn't what it was – Mom dead, Jack shot and sick, their home littered with bullets – Bobby probably could have made a joke about Jackie and his Mommy, but he couldn't do it now. He couldn't even speak.

Bobby kissed Jack's forehead and mumbled something that might have been words and might have been barely-intelligible swears and scraped the chair back. He went into the bathroom, shut the door and left Jack to Angel.

He didn't mean to, he didn't even realize it was coming, but the second the door was closed, Bobby could do little else but drop to his knees quickly or risk getting sick all over the ICU bathroom.

"Fuck, fuck…" Bobby whispered. "Mom,"

I'll fix this… Bobby thought, breathing heavily through being sick, I don't know how, but I'll fix Jack and I'll fix Angel and Jerry and I'll fix the house. I'll fix me. I'm so sorry, Ma.

I swear.

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