TITLE: Flashes

CHAPTER/TITLE: One/The Morning After

RATING: T (language and mature content)

SUMMARY: Pre-Movie. "I ain't Ma. I ain't gonna hold your little hand. I'm gonna kick you in the - until what I want to hear comes out your mouth. It's called tough love… Deal with it or see what happens…" Jack's hiding something, from everyone. Time for a little intervention, Bobby Mercer style.

A/N: Here we go…

DISCLAIMER: I own Angela. Sadly, nothing and no one else.

Please read and REVIEW! Thank you. Gracias. Or as my new Latvian friend would say… Paldies.

Chapter One: The Morning After

Jack sat on the couch lazily, barely paying attention to the channels he was flipping through or the mug of coffee in his hand. He was a coffee fiend compared to his brothers, but at this current time, Jack was thirsting for something quite different and the empty beer bottles hidden underneath the couch hadn't been enough.

He had gotten out of bed once more after only thirty minutes of intent ceiling staring and shuffled his way to the kitchen and then to the living room. He had listened, watched and been a part of Bobby doing the same thing in the middle night for so many years that he could maneuver throughout the entire house without making a sound. He had every squeaking step, creaking floorboard, and whining drawer memorized.

But now others in the house stirred about and his time of drinking the previous day away was cut short. Evelyn had already awoken, prodded her son in her own firm and loving way until she was satisfied, gotten ready and went to work. She was barely out the door when the last of the household finally greeted the day.

"Where's Sofi?" Jack asked casually as Angel came down the stairs.

"Shower," Angel nodded toward the ceiling. "And where is – " he trailed off and glanced around.

"Angela," Jack reluctantly finished for him. "She – uh – I didn't bring her home."

"I saw you bring her inside, idiot," Angel scoffed. "What the fuck did you do to screw it up?"

"Nothin'!" Jack shot off the couch in uncharacteristic anger but then just stood awkwardly with nowhere to really go.

"Get in a fight?"

"No."

"She say 'no'?"

"No."

"Well then, shit, maybe Bobby's been right all along and you do play for the other team." Angel chuckled and began to make his way to the kitchen.

"Just shut up," Jack spat with a venom Angel had never heard and stormed off, grabbing his coat.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Angel turned around, his thoughts of coffee and scrambled eggs vanishing. "Ma ain't home to drive you anywhere and –"

"I'm going to Jerry's."

"What for?"

"To get away from you."

"Jack, sit your white ass on that couch." Angel stepped forward, a long index finger extended toward the piece of furniture. "Now."

Jack considered bolting but did not enjoy the idea of Angel hauling him forcefully back inside, having experienced it before. He complied, falling back into the cushions.

"Alright, Jackie-poo, spill. What's up your skinny ass?"

Jack again leapt from the couch and pushed Angel as hard as he could before swiftly telling his brother where to go.

"Look, Jack," Angel nearly barked, grabbing his brother's arm. "We can talk or I can beat whatever this is out of you."

"Don't fucking touch me!" Jack ripped away from Angel's grip.

There was a look in Jacks eyes that Angel hadn't seen since Jack was a small child when he first moved in with them. His blue eyes became clouded over with such a mixture of emotions that he looked like a scared, beaten, wild and raging animal all at the same time. He remembered those eyes. Jack took a few steps backwards and glanced away from his older brother.

"Shit, man, I thought you and me, we were past all that." Angel's voice was now soft, a fraction of the volume it had just been and laced with concern and hurt.

"Whatever," Jack mumbled. "Just leave me alone, man."

And that was when Angel knew this battle was over. Jack hastily stomped across the room and out the door, but not before flashing Angel that other look Angel knew so well. It was the dark gaze that told him Jack had shut himself down and off from everyone. It was the look he gave before not speaking for hours or days. Something seriously was wrong and Angel hadn't the slightest idea what it was. He was pulled away from his thoughts by the ringing phone. He barely muttered a 'hello' as he answered.

"Angel?"

"Bobby? Well, son of a bitch. Bobby Mercer callin' home. Mark your calendars and shoot off the fireworks."

"Shut up and just tell me how happy you are to hear my beautiful voice."

"What's up man? Something wrong? You don't do phone calls unless Ma begs you."

"She there?"

"Nah, she's at work. Been workin' a lot 'a Saturdays since she got stuck with this fucked up family with like eight kids or some shit."

"Is Jack home?"

"Am I not good enough to talk to? The little girl just ran out the door all worked up about who the hell knows what."

"Damn."

"What? You know something about the princess' latest PMS?"

"No. He called me and was upset 'bout something. I blew him off but – shit – I couldn't stop thinking 'bout it."

"Jack has issues. What's new?"

"You have your fair share of issues too, little brother."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You really think somethin' is up with him?" Angel's voice was quickly losing all jesting nature and genuine concern was seeping through.

"Dunno. Just got this feeling I can't fucking shake, man."

"Shit," Angel collapsed into the nearby chair. "That feeling."

Angel knew that feeling. It was the same feeling Jerry had when Angel was back to his old tricks on the street and in deeper than his pockets or charm could handle. It was the same sense Angel got when Bobby took some of his own medicine by being handed a cheap shot in a hockey match and was knocked unconscious for two whole days. Angel had been at work but somehow simply knew his brother was hurt. He called home to find Evelyn in the same panic, as she too sensed something was wrong. The five of them might not have been bonded by blood, but they were connected on another level that somehow seemed stronger.

"I think it's time for a little vacation," The eldest brother stated simply and Angel knew then that whatever Jack was dealing with was soon to be ripped into the open Bobby Mercer style.