Four Brothers

[veiledndarkness]

Title: Another Life 6/?

Author: veiledndarkness

Rating: R

Pairing: None

Summary: You can change your name, but you can't change who you are.

Disclaimer: Not mine, no harm intended, no profit made.

Four Brothers/Death Sentence Cross-over

For littlewitch34 cause she's all kinds of awesome.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5



XX

Jack crept into the house, his backpack clutched tightly in one hand. He could hear the sounds of chopping coming from the kitchen, smell the cooking roast beef in the oven and it made his eyes water. He closed the door behind him silently. As he tugged his knit hat off, he leaned forward, peering into the living room.

Billy sat on the couch, one knee to his chest, gnawing absently on his thumbnail. His eyes were focused on the flickering television in front of him. Jack took a step back, the floorboard creaking. He glared at the offending wooden floorboard. Billy stared at him, his eyes narrowed.

"Uh," Jack gripped the bag tighter. "Hey.."

Billy studied him for a long moment. He blinked and looked away, burrowing deeper into the large hooded sweatshirt he had on. Jack shifted on his feet. Billy's silence unnerved him. He unwrapped his scarf, slipped his mitts off and hung his coat up, ready to bolt if Billy suddenly rushed him.

He toed his boots off, carefully avoiding the carpeted area with his slushy boots. The past days had been confusing to say the least. Billy had spent much of his time sleeping or curled up in the corner of the couch, avidly watching the television. He flat out ignored Jack most of the time, only darting pointed looks at him every so often. It was a very uneasy truce.

Jack walked into the living room, eyeing Billy warily. He was, in fact, quite afraid of the boy. Billy towered over him, making him feel small and weak. The age difference was only a few years but Jack felt every month of those years when he stood near Billy. He put his backpack down by the end of the coffee table, already thinking of the homework he needed to complete.

"Jackie?" Evelyn poked her head into the room and smiled at them both. "Good, you're home."

"Yeah, I stayed behind to help Mrs. Roberts with the books in the library," he nodded. "She needed the donations sorted."

She smiled proudly at him. "Glad to hear it, Jackie. You have homework to finish?"

"Yeah," he made a face. "Math an' history."

"Get started on it then. Dinner'll be ready in forty minutes or so."

He nodded and sat down near the couch. Jack glanced at Billy, his heart skipping a beat at the look on his face. He unzipped his backpack and pulled out his binder and history textbook. 'I will not panic,' he chanted silently. 'He wouldn't dare...not with Mom right here...please God.'

Billy made a sound and shook his head. "Suckass," he muttered under his breath.

Jack froze, his ears burning with embarrassment. He gripped his pencil and chanced another look at Billy, a white hot ball of anger sparking inside him for a moment. He exhaled, willing the anger to fade. "I like helping," he whispered.

Billy turned his head, smirking at him. "I bet. I bet ya love the attention, don't ya?"

"Shut up!" Jack hissed back at him. "You don't even know me, you...you wanna-be thug!"

Billy's smirk vanished and a ugly sneer replaced it. "One more word outta you, an' even Bobby ain't gonna be able t' piece you together when I'm done with ya."

Jack bit his lip and looked down at his history textbook. He hunched his shoulders up, blinking rapidly. The words on the page blurred before him, hot, angry tears gathering in his eyes. "I-I'm not afraid of you."

There was a moment's pause before Billy chuckled. "Ya should be, Jackie boy. Ya should be."

Jack flinched and kept his head down. A thick silence filled the room, both very aware of the others presence.

XX

Billy burrowed down deeper into his blankets, cozy and warm. He listened to the sound of his breathing, enjoying the delicious warmth of his bed. He smiled sadly. He remembered far too many freezing cold nights when he'd been glad to have one of the men in bed with him as it meant more body heat to keep him warm. Billy's stomach twisted. "Don't think 'bout it," he whispered.

"Billy? Billy, come on now, it's time to get up," a voice called into his room. He poked his head out, his hair sticking up every which way.

"Do I hafta?"

Evelyn nodded from the doorway. "Yes. We're going to the school to get you registered and tested and then out for some quick shopping. You need supplies for the school year and I only have so many hand me downs still in good condition."

Billy sat up a little, biting his lip. "I don't need no schoolin'. I can work, do a job or some shit."

"Billy, language please," she crossed the room in a few brisk steps and pushed the dark blue curtains back, letting the weak morning sunshine trickle in. "And yes, you need to attend school. You're only thirteen after all. There's not many places that would hire you at thirteen, at least not anything too serious. A paper route maybe," she mused.

He frowned, tugging the blankets closer to him. "But..."

"What?" Evelyn paused by the dresser.

"How..." Billy's thumb strayed near his mouth, the urge to bite on it very strong. "How am I s'posed t' pay you back if I ain't workin'?"

She nodded slowly. "Billy, listen to me real good right now, alright?"

He bit down on his lip, forcing his hand back from his face. She smiled a gentle smile at him and crossed her arms casually. "You don't have to pay me back. I get money from the state for taking care of you. They send me money to help cover your expenses, to help take care of you. You owe me nothing."

He shook his head stubbornly. "No one does nothin' for free," he mumbled.

"I know it sounds strange to you, but the money isn't the reason I do this. Every cent of that amount goes towards taking care of you. I also work a regular job at the hospital to pay my bills. And even if I never received a nickel for this, I'd still do it in a heartbeat."

Billy swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. "Why?"

"I have my reasons," she said with a kind smile. "Now, up please. You need to get ready. Go grab a shower before Bobby wakes up and uses all the hot water. Breakfast will be waiting for you downstairs."

He nodded, his fingers twisting and clenching in the sheets. Evelyn left the room, a faint scent of lilacs in the air. Billy pressed his hands to his eyes, rubbing tiredly at them. "Damn it...Damn her...Stupid bullshit lies...I ain't fallin' for this," he muttered. "I...I can't."

XX

The nasal tones of the Principal's voice made Billy's ears twitch. He sighed loudly and drummed his fingers along his thigh. Evelyn touched his shoulder, a silent reminder to keep quiet. She nodded along to the Principal's words, a polite but strained smile on her face.

"I understand," she interjected finally, stopping the man mid-sentence. "I know that Billy's case is a, well, unique one, but I'm sure he'll be able to assimilate into a regular classroom."

The Principal sat back on his squeaky chair, clearing his throat. Billy's fingers itched to make fists. He glared at the nameplate on the desk. Mr. Terrin, it read in shiny gold letters. He pictured himself driving the nameplate into the fat man's skull and grinned.

"Surely then, you must understand, Mrs. Mercer," Mr. Terrin leaned forward, tenting his fingers. "It's not only that he's not been in a school before, but also that his test scores are so very low. He'll need months of remedial classes before he can join a regular classroom."

Billy gritted his teeth and rubbed his fingers over his jeans. Evelyn sat up straighter in her seat. "Yes, but as I've explained to you, Billy's scores reflect his upbringing. He is a very smart child and he will do well in any learning program." She pointed to the opened folder on the desk. "As you see, he has basic writing and math skills."

"I see," Mr. Terrin rubbed one thick finger along his double chin. "The best we can do right now is put him into our remedial program for a few weeks and then re-test him. At that point, we can re-assess whether he can be moved to a more current classroom."

Evelyn nodded. "If that's the best we can hope for right now, then I'd like him enrolled as soon as possible."

"We'll arrange for his schedule to be made up. He'll be able to start on Monday."

"Thank you," she gave him another tight lipped smile. "I appreciate the time you've taken to see us."

She shook Mr. Terrin's hand. "Oh, by the way, Mrs. Mercer," he said, his rubbery lips flicking into an odd smile. "Jack's shown a small improvement in his public speeches for his English class."

Evelyn nodded. "Yes, we're all quite proud of him."

Billy rolled his eyes and bit down hard on his tongue to keep his vicious words safe in his mouth.

"Yes, quite an improvement. Though he's quite reluctant to speak in class, we have seen some progress."

Evelyn stood abruptly, drawing herself up, her shoulders thrown back. Billy sneaked a glance at Mr. Terrin, snickering silently at the unease in the man's face. "Thank you," she said. "Jack was another of your 'special' cases, Mr. Terrin, if I'm not mistaken. It's wonderful to see my boys flourish when given a chance, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes of course," Mr. Terrin stood as well. "We'll see you on Monday, then?"

"Absolutely," she flashed a smile at him, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Billy, come please."

He stood up and leaned over the desk a little, his eyes dark and very unamused. Mr. Terrin stared up at him, a fleeting look of fear on his sweaty face. Billy followed Evelyn from the room, his shoulders hunched.

"Uh...E-Evelyn," Billy stumbled a bit as he walked. He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. "You...ya really don't like that guy, do ya?"

Evelyn's lips thinned and she shook her head, white hair gleaming in the dim hallway. "Not very much. He's not my first choice for Principal at this school. Stay under his radar, Billy. I've had problems with him in the past and you'd do well to avoid provoking a suspension. You mind me, Billy, is that clear?"

"Yes'm," he mumbled.

She shook her head again. "He's...not a nice man. Now, I believe you need some school supplies and some newer boots."

Billy kicked at the tiled floor, his boots badly scuffed and well worn. He shrugged. "Don't need nothin'. They're fine."

"Nonetheless, you still need a proper pair." She held the door open for him, a bolt of sunshine from outside illuminating her for a brief moment. Billy felt his breath catch in his throat. She looked...He blinked, stepping out onto the pavement, his eyes stinging. For a brief moment, he'd seen love and understanding in her eyes. He fisted his hands in his pockets, clinging to the idea that she'd meant that look for him.

XX

Bobby stood back in the garage, muttering to himself. "Damned car," he wiped his hands clean and reached for the funnels that lined one shelf. He heard the door creak open and paused, smiling slowly. "Jackie, that you?"

"Yeah..." was the answer after a moment.

Bobby took one of the funnels and the bottle on the next shelf. "C'mere, I need your help."

Jack popped up, a big smile on his face. "Yeah?" He dropped his backpack by the door and hurried over to his side. "Help with what?"

"Hold the funnel steady for me," Bobby handed the orange cone to him. He uncapped the bottle. "Need more fluids, y' know? Car can't run without them."

Jack nodded, listening patiently as Bobby described how to check the fluids of the car, when to refill, when to flush them out. Most of it he didn't really understand, but he didn't mind. He held the funnels steady as Bobby refilled from each bottle, soaking up the one on one attention from him.

Bobby passed him a roll of paper towel and some Windex. "Here, go clean the inside windshield."

"Alright," Jack hopped into the car. He separated the sheets and lined them up on the dashboard. He eyed the windshield and triggered the nozzle of the bottle, starting the spray. "Bobby?" he called as he began wiping the glass clean.

"Yeah?" Bobby leaned back against the old wooden cabinet that doubled as a desk. He dug his cigarettes out, lighting one.

"Do you..." Jack licked his lower lip nervously. "How come Billy's here?"

Bobby inhaled, letting the smoke puff back out in small drifts. "You know why. Ma's helpin' him the same way she did for us."

"But he's not a foster kid, he's a runaway." Jack squirted the glass again, his forehead furrowed.

"So, what're you sayin'? That he doesn't deserve no help?" Bobby walked over to the side of the car. "Jack...That isn't very nice."

"He isn't very nice," Jack mumbled. He wiped at the glass, the paper towel crumpling in his hand. "He should just go back home with his family. He's got family so why does he need ours?"

Bobby stared at him. Jack shrugged a little, scrubbing harder at the glass, his heart pounding under the weight of Bobby's stare.

"His family is the reason he ran away," Bobby flicked his cigarette, disappointment etched deeply in his face. "Jack, man, you don't even know what he's been through. I'm surprised you're bein' so damn cold. He needs a proper family. How would you like it if we made you go, just cause you got some asshole uncle that might hurt you but still wants to keep you with 'im?"

Jack dropped the handful of paper towel. "I...I..." he swallowed hard.

"Yeah, it would hurt, wouldn't it?" Bobby took a long drag on his cigarette. "Look, I know he's rough an' kinda nasty but you would be too if you grew up like him. Try an' remember what it was like when you first got here, huh?"

"Bobby..." Jack whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Me too. I thought I taught you better than bein' like this." Bobby shook his head, flicking the ash loose from his cigarette. "He's scared, Jack, I can't stress that shit to you enough. Everythin' he knows, it doesn't count here. It's damned scary to leave the world ya know."

Jack nodded numbly. He slipped out of the car and walked around the vehicle, searching for his back pack.

"Jack...Jack, damn it, I'm talkin' to you."

"I got homework, I hafta go start it," Jack grabbed the bag and took off, the door slamming behind him.

XX

Billy wiggled his toes in his boots. His new boots, he corrected himself. The boots came up just under his knees, snugly wrapped around his legs. He looked at Evelyn, smiling somewhat shyly. "Uh...thanks. They're fuckin' great."

She arched an eyebrow at him. He felt heat creep into his neck. "Um, sorry, they're great, honest."

Evelyn patted his shoulder. "I'm glad you like them," she gathered up the hat, scarf and mitts from the hand basket along with the box for the boots. "You can wear those home if you want," she added, grabbing the tag from the boots.

He stood up, wiggling his toes again. His feet were so warm. "I...thanks. For...uh, everythin'. You don't hafta be so nice."

"Being kind isn't a matter of whether or not we have to," she said, leading him to the cash register. "It's something we do because it's the right thing to do."

Billy nodded, his fingers trailing over the rows of candy bars. He flicked two fingers expertly, the candy bar slipping up his sleeve with an ease that came from years of practice. Evelyn set the items on the checkout and looked back at him. "I'll need to pay for the candy bar before you eat it," she said.

"What candy bar?"

"The one that you're holding onto."

Billy took a step back from her. "I didn't steal nothin'."

"And I suppose you think I'm going to believe that it happened to jump into your coat sleeve on its own free will?"

Billy glared at her. "I said, I didn't fuckin' steal nothin'!"

She touched one hand to his curled fingers. He flinched, his eyes closing in anticipation. She slipped the package down his wrist and placed it on the conveyor belt. "If you'd like something, tell me," she said, as calm as if nothing untoward had occurred. "Please don't steal; you have no reason to anymore."

Billy stared down at the floor, his cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. "I...s-sorry."

"Not everyone is going to be so lenient," she advised him. "There's consequences to shoplifting, even if it's only a candy bar. You don't want to end up in jail over sticky fingers, right?"

"No..." he mumbled.

"Billy, look at me," she touched his fingers again.

He jerked back from her, frightened blue eyes staring at her. "I'm not going to hurt you," she soothed. "But there's reasons why we don't break the law. Stealing is wrong, no matter what."

Billy nodded, dropping his gaze again. He was a thief; he'd been one for years. "Yeah..."

She turned back to the conveyor belt, making polite chitchat with the cashier. Billy trudged along after her, confused and frustrated once more.

XX