TITLE: Flashes

CHAPTER/TITLE: Five/Little Talks

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: We're getting there! Bobby isn't going to wait for Jack much longer…

DISCLAIMER: I-own-nothing

Please read and REVIEW! Reviews inspire Jack to write a song for the reviewer.

Chapter Five: Little Talks

Bobby was ready to make a house call the moment Jerry finished telling him about Angela. If anyone knew what was going on with his baby brother, he reasoned it would be her, and if she was the cause, well, Bobby could handle her easily. Jerry convinced him otherwise, and in the end, Bobby knew Jeremiah was right. The entire Mercer household knew that dealing with Jack required a different approach than how they handled the other brothers' problems. They all had their trust issues, but if any one of them went behind Jack's back and talked to this girl with such motives, Jack would be cut deeper than they knew. It would merely push the troubled teenager farther away they might never discover what was truly going on. It was difficult enough to get Jack to converse about anything on normal terms. It would be near impossible if he was purposefully not speaking to them out of betrayal, hurt or anger.

Evelyn returned shortly after Bobby had been talked down and her presence helped stabilize the household. Jack eventually slinked downstairs and slipped into the kitchen before any of the brothers could open their mouths. The day progressed and Bobby merely waited, quite impatiently, for the opportune moment to strike as he sat with his eyes glued to the television, but his mind elsewhere. Angel left after about an hour of eavesdropping on his mother and little brother as he had promised, and now regretting doing so, to meet Sofi's parents at a holiday family gathering they were hosting. He suffered a few quips from Bobby but then cut the jesting short with a hard look. Bobby and Jerry agreed to his demand to call him if they found anything out and needed him. Jerry, on the other hand, was giving Camille time with her mother as they were spending the day baking cookies together. In reality, they had eagerly pushed him out the door after he burnt two batches in a row.

The two brothers were in the middle of catching up when Evelyn summoned them to the kitchen to help transport several baskets of baked goods for local shelters to her car.

"Is Angela still coming over for dinner for Christmas Eve?" Evelyn questioned casually as she stirred another round of ingredients and her sons entered the kitchen.

Jack nearly dropped the apple he had just scooped out of the fruit basket and glanced at his family. Jerry and Bobby were sharing their own knowing, yet curious look. Apparently, momma's boy Jack had not even broken the news to Evelyn, Bobby thought internally.

"Uh," Jack fumbled to put the piece of fruit back, "We – uh – broke up. I mean, I broke up – with her."

"Oh," Evelyn frowned, "that's a shame. I liked her. Such a nice young lady." Evelyn stopped there and continued to bake in silence.

She knew pressing her son would only push him away, especially under the eager eyes and hungry ears of his brothers. She also knew full well that the two had separated weeks ago but had been waiting for Jack to make the first move in the conversation. Her seemingly normal inquiry of dinner was merely Evelyn gently forcing her son to finally admit it to her.

"Christmas Eve dinner," Bobby whistled and raised his brow dramatically. "Sounds serious. Must be to get that invite."

"Bobby, leave your brother be," Evelyn warned in that tone of hers.

"I'm just curious, Ma," Bobby grinned mischievously, yet secretly feeling guilty about openly disobeying his mother. "So, Angela? A little close to 'Angel', don't ya think? Isn't it weird banging someone with such a similar name as your own brother's? Then, you might be into that, Jackie. Hope you never screamed the wrong name –"

"Bobby Mercer!"Evelyn snapped in that voice that was yelling without actually hollering. "That is enough!"

Evelyn's interruption had come too late as Jack was already stomping out of the kitchen. Evelyn shot her eldest son a look that did not need words as Jerry nudged him disapprovingly.

"I got this," Bobby stated simply and exited, following his teenage brother.

Everything was working perfectly in the scheme only Bobby would have thought up. The youngest Mercer had been hiding in that kitchen with Evelyn all day, and not because he secretly enjoyed cooking and backing, which he did, or because he was hiding from Bobby's hangover antics, which he was. She was his shield. It had always been Jack's escape route to tail Evelyn like her shadow when he wanted to avoid confronting one of his brothers. Bobby was at least slightly pleased that some things hadn't changed while he was away. The only way to separate Jack from Evelyn was for one of them to go to the bathroom, Evelyn to go to work, or Bobby to thoroughly enrage Jack. Jack's tactic was always to avoid, run, or hide. If using Evelyn wasn't working to deter whatever it was he was avoiding, he would bolt. That, and the fact that Jack didn't want to say anything in retaliation in front of their mother.

Bobby could hear the muffled melancholy tune as he ascended the stairs and padded towards his old bedroom. He was half surprised Jack hadn't taken off out of the house entirely as he used to. The plan still worked in those days as Jack usually didn't get too far before Bobby found and confronted him. He thought his rapping against the door was being purposefully ignored until a mumbled 'go away, Bobby' came from inside the room. Bobby merely shook his head and entered without invitation.

"Now, when has that ever worked?" Bobby teased.

Jack sat on his bed, pushed up against the wall so his feet hung over the side. He strummed a few chords and then quickly scribbled inside a small notebook that was lying open next to him.

"You writin' love songs to you boyfriends, Jackie?" Bobby questioned. "When did you become a full on freakin' musician? Last time I saw you with that thing, you could barely play the beginning of 'Hey Jude'."

"Last time?" Jack huffed, obviously attempting to suppress rage. "Last time you were heard me play, I was thirteen and you were only here for a week during one of your damn suspensions."

"Whoa, hey, don't get your panties all in a bundle there sweetheart. Can't a guy give his brother a compliment?"

"You? No. And that was supposed to be a compliment? You might want to work on your delivery, Bobby."

Without another word, Jack went back to his music with intense focus, signaling he was done with the conversation. Bobby, though, wasn't. He stepped away from leaning against the threshold and shut the door behind him. Jack glanced up as he heard it close and glared in annoyance, confusion and anger at this eldest brother; though the back of his mind went reeling to a faded memory that he desperately pushed away, praying Bobby didn't see it playing behind his eyes.

"What?" Jack snapped sharply, trying to hide the unnecessary fear.

"What you mean, 'what'? You know damn well what."

"Subtle." Jack murmured crossly.

"I ain't gonna beat around the fucking bush the whole damn time I'm here. Either you tell me what the fuck is going on with you and where all this teen angst, I-hate-the-world-and-my-family-attitude bullshit came from or I'll have to find out on my own, using my own methods."

"I ain't talking to you about this."

"Why not?" Bobby demanded, congratulating himself on at least getting his brother to admit, if not by accident, that there was, in fact, a problem.

"Because! You're my brother – and – I can't."

"Want me to bring Ma into this? She's worried about you, Jackie. You like givin' her gray hairs?"

"Don't do that. Don't you fucking do that. Don't bring her into this."

"She's already in it, Jack. She knows something's wrong. She's our mother. Would you rather me drag you downstairs and make you discuss your new lifestyle choices and attitude with her?"

Jack merely slouched and shook his head.

"Then how 'bout this Angela, huh? How's 'bout I go talk to her?"

Jack slammed the guitar on the bed and leapt up, as if to verbally, or quite possibly, physically attack Bobby. He opened his mouth and then snapped his jaw shut suddenly. Turning around, Jack crossed his room to the window.

"Whatever, man," Jack's voice was deeper and calmer than it had been, and for Jack, that was far more dangerous.