"This lullaby is only a few words

A simple run of chords

Quiet here in this spare room

But you can hear it, hear it

I will let you down

But this lullaby plays on…even if I let you down."

-Sarah Dessen

Detroit wasn't the same without her. Hell, the world wasn't the same without her…but Detroit just seemed that much smaller without her here, it was darker, more ominous even from when I was a little kid coming to her house.

Bobby pulled up in front of the house, the light was off, something that wouldn't have happened if she were still alive, even when we were all gone she still kept the light on for us…just in case we ever wanted to come home. And currently, there was nothing that I wished I had ever done more than to have told her on the phone a week ago that I was coming for Thanksgiving. I would have meant it too, I didn't lie to her, she had this knack of knowing when she was being lied to and she didn't stand for that kind of thing. I hated going onto the screened in porch, especially when I knew that she wouldn't be in there cooking something, wanting my help in the kitchen so that I would talk to her about something.

I could remember when I had first come here and she would do just that…get me to talk to her just by distracting me with cooking, sometimes she would turn on the radio and sing, using whatever cooking utensil that she had in her hand at the time as a microphone. She was the one that got me into music, the one that taught me to play guitar…the one that taught me what it was like to have a family and to be safe.

"So, shit, Bobby, what've you been up to?"

"Oh I'm a freakin' college professor Jack, what d'ya think I've been doing?"

"I doubt that." I gave a small laugh, trying to make it seem that I was okay. Being strong in front of my brothers until the moment I could go up to my room and let it all out.

"What about you?" Bobby opened the screen door, looking back at me, "You still sucking a little cock left and right or what?"

I gave a small, uncomfortable, laugh, "Fucker."

Of course I hadn't been sucking anyone's cock. I wasn't gay, I'd never been gay…but it was one of the only things that Bobby and Angel had ever found that could piss me off enough to get into a fight for. I could still remember the first time Bobby had called me gay, I'd been so angry that I'd punched him in the face, stunning the older eighteen year old long enough to give myself sometime to throw in another shot. I punched him in the stomach the second time, but after that Bobby had gotten his shit together and blocked it, throwing one that caught me in the eye and sent me sprawling back on my ass. The fight had been so bad that she had had to break it up and she was so angry with both of us that I had thought at that moment that she was going to send me back into the system.

Bobby turned the light in the porch on, revealing Angel. We all greeted him before walking into the house and quietly, a difference from how loud we were on the porch, looked around the house. This wasn't the safe haven of our teenage years anymore. This had turned into a place where memories, both good and bad, flooded into our minds when, really, we didn't want to remember. We didn't want the memories right now…didn't want anything to do with this house now.

"Jackie, take your old room." I nodded at my oldest brother and went upstairs without listening to the end of his sentence.

Though I didn't want to be in the house now, I wanted to be in my old room, the one closest to her room, so that, when I'd had nightmares, she would be able to get to my room as fast as possible. I wanted to see the things that she had gotten me that I hadn't been able to take to New York when I left. I wanted to see the memories of times when I'd hidden my toothbrush in my sock draw and she had come and explain to me what having a last name meant…what having brothers meant. And most importantly, what being safe meant.

As I entered the room, I threw my bag on the floor and placed my guitar case against the wall. I still had my acoustic here, and I wanted to hear the sounds of that rather than the somewhat harsh sounds that I normally produced on the one I used now. I wanted to hear the mellow sounds that she had taught me to play…the simple lullaby she used to play for me when I had trouble sleeping at night.

I left the door open, I left over habit from living here, when I knew I was safe I was perfectly fine leaving the door open, it was almost a metaphor for when I opened myself up to the family…at least that was how she had explained it to me. She explained everything in ways of poetry and music because she knew that it made sense to me…knew that I wouldn't want to understand it any other way. I laid down on my bed, my back against the headboard and found that it was too small for me. The bed that I had grown up using had finally gotten to small…just like how Detroit was starting to feel.

The lullaby was a simple one, the first thing that she had ever taught me, it only used on string, one little string that was played in the same six notes over and over again. It never ended really, at least she'd never taught me an ending to it and I had always fallen asleep before she had started it a third time. It was calming to play, the simple six note melody that always stayed the same, even if you changed the pitch of the song…it was still the same, the only constant in a life that had felt more pain than happiness until his teenage years.

I didn't look up as Bobby walked out of her room and quickly slammed the bathroom door shut. I knew what he was doing, I already felt the tears falling down my face, no matter how much we all wanted to be strong for one another, and we couldn't be strong forever. We all needed to be able to break down once before Bobby's plan of revenge was set into motion. All of us needed the time to grieve for her in our own ways. I could hear music coming softly from Angel's room, the stereo in his room had a bad quality, but I didn't really care. It was a nice bit of vocal and background music to the lullaby that I was playing.

The door to the bathroom opened and closed quietly, and Bobby entered my room, making me suddenly notice that the string was definitely off key. The sound was distorted…it didn't sound as pure as it had before Bobby had come in.

"You been cryin' in here ya little fairy?"