Four Brothers
Aug. 4th, 2009 09:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veiledndarknessTitle: Strays 3/?
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Bobby/Jack
Rating: R
Summary: What’s it all worth when you’re alone?
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit made and no harm intended.
Notes: AU, the brothers were not raised together by Evelyn.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
x
The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, both studying each other. Jack licked his chapped lips and ducked his head a little. "So...So, what is all this, really? Like a shelter? Cause it sure doesn't seem like one."
"I wouldn't call it a shelter. More like...a place for people."
"I hate to tell ya, but a place for people, that's a shelter,' Jack cracked a grin at him. He wanted to ease the pinched look of tension from Bobby's face. "'Except, well yours doesn't look like any shelter I ever stayed in."
Bobby leaned back in his chair. "They don't all have to look the same. Look, it's gettin' kinda late in the day, so I'll make this quick before dinner. You don't hafta stay here, you're free to go if you wanna. You'll get your own room an' you'll help out around here, understood?"
Jack nodded rapidly. "Yeah, yeah that's fine."
"It's not hard work but I don't let people fuck me over. If you stay, you gotta pull your weight." Bobby took a key ring out of his pocket and held it in his palm. “There are a few people here; you’ll meet them all in the next day or so. I’ll warn you once an’ once only about this, so listen good.”
“I am listenin’,” Jack picked at his ragged jeans, annoyed under his lingering fear.
“One, there’s Em, she runs the kitchen. Don’t piss her off,” Bobby held up one finger. “She runs a fuckin’ tight ship in that kitchen an’ she won’t hesitate to put you in your place.”
“That makes her like…the female you, then?” Jack curved his lips in an almost smirk.
Bobby snorted. “Man, you don’t even know how close you are. Two, is keep your distance with Lucy.”
“No problem there, she took off like her ass was on fire when she saw me earlier.”
Bobby frowned then. Jack tried to suppress the instinctive cringe, prickles of fear resurging. “I…I didn’t do nothin’, honest. She saw me and ran, I swear.”
“She’s afraid of most people and she doesn’t speak much English,” Bobby said finally. “Leave her be, you’re only gonna scare her more if you try an’ talk to her.”
“Yessir,” Jack mumbled. “Anyone else I shouldn’t talk to?”
Bobby flicked the keys, a smile passing his lips briefly. “No. Just Lucy, that’s all.” He stood up then, pushing the chair back. “You wanna see your room?”
“Yeah,” Jack stood up as well. He grabbed his guitar case and held tightly to the handle. With a bone deep weariness, he followed Bobby out of the office and down the hall. It was dizzying, the amount of doors and corners and hallways, the staircase that stretched on for miles it seemed.
Bobby took the stairs in silence, his hand lingering on the banister. “This way,” he nodded, indicating the hallway.
Jack shifted his guitar case, his eyelids drooping with exhaustion. Something about the warmth in the house, Jack felt so damn sleepy. Bobby stopped in front of a door, opening it.
“This one’s yours,” he pushed the door open all the way. “There’s a bathroom attached to this room. I figure, ya might want a little privacy.”
Jack stared at the bedroom for a long minute, his eyes wide. “Seriously?” he managed to ask.
“Mhm,” Bobby tucked the keys into his dress pants pocket. “Nothin’ too fancy, and I don’t do girlie colors so, yeah, this oughta be ok, right?”
He nodded. The room was incredible, he decided. Simple wooden furniture, soft off white carpeting and blue curtains that framed the windows, Jack blinked rapidly, certain that he was dreaming, that he’d fallen asleep on his way up the stairs.
He set the case down on the carpet and glanced at Bobby, shifting from one foot to the other. “I….If you want sometime…I could play again for you,” he offered. If Bobby didn’t want sex from him in exchange for living there…Jack forced a tired smile. “Any time at all.”
Bobby nodded once, his face solemn, his eyes creased a little, as though he was fighting a headache. “I’d like that. Not now, you need to rest or somethin’. Em’ll have dinner ready in an hour.”
Jack looked to the bed. He’d bet the last quarter in his pocket that the mattress would be perfect. “Yeah, I think I’ll nap or whatever until then.”
“That’s fine,” Bobby let his gaze wander over Jack. “You think you can find the kitchen, ok?”
“I’ll find it,” he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Um…what, uh, that is, what should I call you?”
“What?” Bobby blinked, caught off guard.
Jack cracked another grin at him. “Well Mr. Mercer sounds so…formal, y’ know?”
Bobby smiled ever so slightly and shrugged. “Just Bobby then, that’s fine. Don’t be callin’ me Sir; I hate that, ‘cept for outside the house.”
“Alright…” Jack murmured. “Bobby…Thanks, for everything.”
Bobby turned away, his back stiff. “Yeah, no problem,” he said as he grabbed the doorknob. “Sleep, Jack. See ya later.”
Jack waited until the door closed before he let out a pleased sigh. “Goddamn…” He kicked his boots and worn socks off, wiggling his toes in the plush carpet. With a grin, Jack stripped his coat and sweaters off, peeling back the layers of clothes, down to his shorts and t-shirt. He draped them all over the edge of the bed and flopped down on the blankets.
He slid under the thick blankets, reveling in the heavy warmth around him. “He’s gonna have me spoiled,” he mumbled drowsily, drifting off to sleep in a matter of minutes.
x
Jack yawned, one hand clasped over his mouth. He sat on the wooden chair, one long leg up to his chest with his head resting to his knee, watching Em bustle about the kitchen. She moved fast despite her size, her long braids swept neatly back into a large bun.
She looked over her shoulder at him. "Boy, you are some kind of skinny," she clucked her tongue at him. "When was the last time you ate properly, hey?"
Jack shrugged. "I had a big meal last night. He gave me a lotta money, so I went to McDonald's and ordered half the menu."
"Boy, that's not a meal!" she clasped one hand to her chest, horrified. "You sit right there an' I'll show you what a real meal is, yes, I will, you wait an' see."
Jack flashed a somewhat shy, but charming grin at her. "I bet you will."
She shook her head and grasped her wooden spoon, stirring whatever was in the pan. Jack smiled and covered another yawn. The whole kitchen smelled of spices, delicious ones that made his mouth water. It was painted in warm yellow, orange and brown colors, spacious but comfy somehow. He hugged his leg, watching her cook. She’d welcomed him within seconds of his arrival in the kitchen, fussing over him in her motherly way.
He'd napped for the better part of an hour before finding his way back downstairs. Lucy had come into the kitchen a moment later. She'd taken one look at Jack and had kept herself close to Em, her eyes studiously on the food she was helping to prepare.
"So, does he uh...y' know, eat with you guys?"
"Sometimes, sometimes yes, other times, no," Em stirred the mixture and grabbed a bottle, coaxing a few drops out. The liquid hit the pan and sizzled, releasing a fresh burst of enticing spices. "Not tonight, boss man won't be. He's got the pains t' night an' he won't be eatin' with us."
"The pains...?" Jack raised one eyebrow.
Em set the spoon to the side and wiped her fingers clean. "Pains in the head, he don't need no noise or distractions when he needs the pills, understood boy?"
Jack frowned. He had a feeling she was scolding him as well as warning him. "I'm not doin' nothin'. I'm just wondering is all."
"An' I'm tellin' ya not to be wanderin' the house and makin' noises or distractions when he's got him head pains," she nodded once to Jack. "Only make him mad, it will, so you steer clear then, yeah?"
"Yeah," Jack licked at his lips and nodded. "But, I mean, he's ok, right? It's not all the time that he has head aches?"
"Ain't no headaches, they're migraines, an' they hurt him somethin' fierce."
Em turned to Lucy and gestured to the cupboard. "Lucy girl, get the silver tray an' bowl for him," she said slowly. "Soup's ready for him."
Lucy nodded silently and went to the nearest cupboard. She pulled the silver tray out and set it on the counter, along with a bowl and a small plate. Em took the lid off one of the pots from the stove and ladled out spoonfuls of hot soup. Jack sniffed the air, his stomach rumbling. The broth smelled delicious.
Em filled the plate with small sections of sandwiches. "Put the lid on, keep it warm for him."
"Si...I...y-yes," Lucy whispered, placing the lid on.
Em nodded and patted her shoulder. "That's a girl. Si is yes, you say yes for me?"
Lucy darted a glance at Jack and then whispered a barely audible 'yes' to Em. She lifted the tray and carried it out of the kitchen, moving quickly.
Jack watched her go, his curiosity piqued. "Can you tell her that I ain't gonna hurt her?"
"Boy, there ain't nothin' I can tell her that'll make her believe that none," Em stirred the mixture once more. She held out the wooden spoon, heaped high with rice. "Come taste this."
He slipped off the chair obediently and crossed the room to her, taking the offered spoonful. "Jesus fuck, Em," he mumbled after eating the mouthful.
"Ah!" she slapped his hand with the spoon. "Don't ya be takin' the Lord's name in vain, boy!"
"Ow..." Jack rubbed his sore hand. "Sorry."
She clucked her tongue at him. "You watch what you be sayin' around here. I don't take no guff from skinny boys, clear?"
“Yes’m,” Jack pouted a little.
Em smiled and pointed to the chair. “You go sit an’ I’ll feed ya. Worry about the boss man, later. He’s gonna be fine, he will.”
x
"Sir..." Lucy appeared in the doorway of Bobby's office, her gaze respectfully lowered, a silver tray grasped in her trembling hands.
Bobby looked up, the harsh lines on his face relaxing somewhat. "Lucy," he murmured. "Leave the tray on the desk."
She gave a small nod and slipped into the room, pressing the tray onto the desk blotter. "S' head hurting?" she asked in broken English.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, nodding. "Pills?"
Lucy lifted the lid off the tray and set out the plate and bowl of food for him. Bobby wrinkled his nose and looked away from the food. "Pills, Lucy," he closed his eyes, willing the pangs to fade.
She jumped, startled. "Si," she whispered, hurrying from the room. She returned a moment later, bottle in hand, her fingers shaking. She apologized in rapid Spanish, her words jumbled and frightened.
"Lucy....Lucy!" Bobby reached up and gently clasped her wrist in his rough fingers. She let out a small sound, her brown eyes wide with fear.
"Shh, it's ok," he plucked the bottle from her fingers. "Calm down, alright?"
Lucy fidgeted with the tray; her cheeks stained a light red. "Si..."
"Go help Em with dinner," he said before dry swallowing two of his pills. She nodded and fled the room. He sighed, resting his head to his hands. His migraines were getting progressively stronger.
He fumbled with one hand, hitting the speaker button and then the first speed dial. The phone on the other line rang a few times before Jerry picked up, annoyed. "This is not restin', you callin' my ass every other hour."
"Shut the fuck up," Bobby mumbled. He breathed in the smell of the foods on the tray and felt his stomach roll. "I said I'd take a day off, that doesn't mean I ain't checkin' up on you."
"Now ain't the best time."
Bobby made a face at the shiny wood desk before him. "Money spent well?"
"Don't man, don't even," Jerry very nearly growled. "Aren't you s' posed to be sleepin' or somethin'? Too early for one of your bedtime cocktails? Little booze, little sleepin' pills?"
"I can make you and your paid pussy disappear if you don't shut the fuck up!" Bobby snarled, a flash of blinding pain ricocheting through his head.
Jerry swallowed his response. "Sorry, sorry, Bobby," he smoothed his voice out in the next beat. "I'm...y' know, with her and...And...yeah. Look, go lie down, man, you're gonna end up on the floor soon if you don't sleep."
"I can't sleep," Bobby clutched his head, shaking. "I keep seein' his eyes..."
"Whose?"
"The kid's....he came here today. Angel let him in while I was with you."
Jerry hesitated for several seconds. ""What kid? Bobby...you gave out your card again, didn't you?"
Bobby sighed. "Maybe..."
"Maybe," Jerry snorted. "Maybe you ain't learned your lesson yet. Picking them offa the streets like that? Christ, the kid'll probably stab you soon as you turn your back."
Bobby closed his eyes, thinking of Jack, of how fast he'd assumed what Bobby might want from him, the spark to those perfect baby blues. "He won't, I know he won't."
"You remember what happened last time, don'tcha?"
"Night, Jerry," Bobby pressed the speaker button, ending the call. He swallowed hard, forcing his head back up in the dim room. He dragged the tray over and picked at the food, swallowing the broth with small mouthfuls.
x
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Bobby/Jack
Rating: R
Summary: What’s it all worth when you’re alone?
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit made and no harm intended.
Notes: AU, the brothers were not raised together by Evelyn.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
x
The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, both studying each other. Jack licked his chapped lips and ducked his head a little. "So...So, what is all this, really? Like a shelter? Cause it sure doesn't seem like one."
"I wouldn't call it a shelter. More like...a place for people."
"I hate to tell ya, but a place for people, that's a shelter,' Jack cracked a grin at him. He wanted to ease the pinched look of tension from Bobby's face. "'Except, well yours doesn't look like any shelter I ever stayed in."
Bobby leaned back in his chair. "They don't all have to look the same. Look, it's gettin' kinda late in the day, so I'll make this quick before dinner. You don't hafta stay here, you're free to go if you wanna. You'll get your own room an' you'll help out around here, understood?"
Jack nodded rapidly. "Yeah, yeah that's fine."
"It's not hard work but I don't let people fuck me over. If you stay, you gotta pull your weight." Bobby took a key ring out of his pocket and held it in his palm. “There are a few people here; you’ll meet them all in the next day or so. I’ll warn you once an’ once only about this, so listen good.”
“I am listenin’,” Jack picked at his ragged jeans, annoyed under his lingering fear.
“One, there’s Em, she runs the kitchen. Don’t piss her off,” Bobby held up one finger. “She runs a fuckin’ tight ship in that kitchen an’ she won’t hesitate to put you in your place.”
“That makes her like…the female you, then?” Jack curved his lips in an almost smirk.
Bobby snorted. “Man, you don’t even know how close you are. Two, is keep your distance with Lucy.”
“No problem there, she took off like her ass was on fire when she saw me earlier.”
Bobby frowned then. Jack tried to suppress the instinctive cringe, prickles of fear resurging. “I…I didn’t do nothin’, honest. She saw me and ran, I swear.”
“She’s afraid of most people and she doesn’t speak much English,” Bobby said finally. “Leave her be, you’re only gonna scare her more if you try an’ talk to her.”
“Yessir,” Jack mumbled. “Anyone else I shouldn’t talk to?”
Bobby flicked the keys, a smile passing his lips briefly. “No. Just Lucy, that’s all.” He stood up then, pushing the chair back. “You wanna see your room?”
“Yeah,” Jack stood up as well. He grabbed his guitar case and held tightly to the handle. With a bone deep weariness, he followed Bobby out of the office and down the hall. It was dizzying, the amount of doors and corners and hallways, the staircase that stretched on for miles it seemed.
Bobby took the stairs in silence, his hand lingering on the banister. “This way,” he nodded, indicating the hallway.
Jack shifted his guitar case, his eyelids drooping with exhaustion. Something about the warmth in the house, Jack felt so damn sleepy. Bobby stopped in front of a door, opening it.
“This one’s yours,” he pushed the door open all the way. “There’s a bathroom attached to this room. I figure, ya might want a little privacy.”
Jack stared at the bedroom for a long minute, his eyes wide. “Seriously?” he managed to ask.
“Mhm,” Bobby tucked the keys into his dress pants pocket. “Nothin’ too fancy, and I don’t do girlie colors so, yeah, this oughta be ok, right?”
He nodded. The room was incredible, he decided. Simple wooden furniture, soft off white carpeting and blue curtains that framed the windows, Jack blinked rapidly, certain that he was dreaming, that he’d fallen asleep on his way up the stairs.
He set the case down on the carpet and glanced at Bobby, shifting from one foot to the other. “I….If you want sometime…I could play again for you,” he offered. If Bobby didn’t want sex from him in exchange for living there…Jack forced a tired smile. “Any time at all.”
Bobby nodded once, his face solemn, his eyes creased a little, as though he was fighting a headache. “I’d like that. Not now, you need to rest or somethin’. Em’ll have dinner ready in an hour.”
Jack looked to the bed. He’d bet the last quarter in his pocket that the mattress would be perfect. “Yeah, I think I’ll nap or whatever until then.”
“That’s fine,” Bobby let his gaze wander over Jack. “You think you can find the kitchen, ok?”
“I’ll find it,” he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Um…what, uh, that is, what should I call you?”
“What?” Bobby blinked, caught off guard.
Jack cracked another grin at him. “Well Mr. Mercer sounds so…formal, y’ know?”
Bobby smiled ever so slightly and shrugged. “Just Bobby then, that’s fine. Don’t be callin’ me Sir; I hate that, ‘cept for outside the house.”
“Alright…” Jack murmured. “Bobby…Thanks, for everything.”
Bobby turned away, his back stiff. “Yeah, no problem,” he said as he grabbed the doorknob. “Sleep, Jack. See ya later.”
Jack waited until the door closed before he let out a pleased sigh. “Goddamn…” He kicked his boots and worn socks off, wiggling his toes in the plush carpet. With a grin, Jack stripped his coat and sweaters off, peeling back the layers of clothes, down to his shorts and t-shirt. He draped them all over the edge of the bed and flopped down on the blankets.
He slid under the thick blankets, reveling in the heavy warmth around him. “He’s gonna have me spoiled,” he mumbled drowsily, drifting off to sleep in a matter of minutes.
x
Jack yawned, one hand clasped over his mouth. He sat on the wooden chair, one long leg up to his chest with his head resting to his knee, watching Em bustle about the kitchen. She moved fast despite her size, her long braids swept neatly back into a large bun.
She looked over her shoulder at him. "Boy, you are some kind of skinny," she clucked her tongue at him. "When was the last time you ate properly, hey?"
Jack shrugged. "I had a big meal last night. He gave me a lotta money, so I went to McDonald's and ordered half the menu."
"Boy, that's not a meal!" she clasped one hand to her chest, horrified. "You sit right there an' I'll show you what a real meal is, yes, I will, you wait an' see."
Jack flashed a somewhat shy, but charming grin at her. "I bet you will."
She shook her head and grasped her wooden spoon, stirring whatever was in the pan. Jack smiled and covered another yawn. The whole kitchen smelled of spices, delicious ones that made his mouth water. It was painted in warm yellow, orange and brown colors, spacious but comfy somehow. He hugged his leg, watching her cook. She’d welcomed him within seconds of his arrival in the kitchen, fussing over him in her motherly way.
He'd napped for the better part of an hour before finding his way back downstairs. Lucy had come into the kitchen a moment later. She'd taken one look at Jack and had kept herself close to Em, her eyes studiously on the food she was helping to prepare.
"So, does he uh...y' know, eat with you guys?"
"Sometimes, sometimes yes, other times, no," Em stirred the mixture and grabbed a bottle, coaxing a few drops out. The liquid hit the pan and sizzled, releasing a fresh burst of enticing spices. "Not tonight, boss man won't be. He's got the pains t' night an' he won't be eatin' with us."
"The pains...?" Jack raised one eyebrow.
Em set the spoon to the side and wiped her fingers clean. "Pains in the head, he don't need no noise or distractions when he needs the pills, understood boy?"
Jack frowned. He had a feeling she was scolding him as well as warning him. "I'm not doin' nothin'. I'm just wondering is all."
"An' I'm tellin' ya not to be wanderin' the house and makin' noises or distractions when he's got him head pains," she nodded once to Jack. "Only make him mad, it will, so you steer clear then, yeah?"
"Yeah," Jack licked at his lips and nodded. "But, I mean, he's ok, right? It's not all the time that he has head aches?"
"Ain't no headaches, they're migraines, an' they hurt him somethin' fierce."
Em turned to Lucy and gestured to the cupboard. "Lucy girl, get the silver tray an' bowl for him," she said slowly. "Soup's ready for him."
Lucy nodded silently and went to the nearest cupboard. She pulled the silver tray out and set it on the counter, along with a bowl and a small plate. Em took the lid off one of the pots from the stove and ladled out spoonfuls of hot soup. Jack sniffed the air, his stomach rumbling. The broth smelled delicious.
Em filled the plate with small sections of sandwiches. "Put the lid on, keep it warm for him."
"Si...I...y-yes," Lucy whispered, placing the lid on.
Em nodded and patted her shoulder. "That's a girl. Si is yes, you say yes for me?"
Lucy darted a glance at Jack and then whispered a barely audible 'yes' to Em. She lifted the tray and carried it out of the kitchen, moving quickly.
Jack watched her go, his curiosity piqued. "Can you tell her that I ain't gonna hurt her?"
"Boy, there ain't nothin' I can tell her that'll make her believe that none," Em stirred the mixture once more. She held out the wooden spoon, heaped high with rice. "Come taste this."
He slipped off the chair obediently and crossed the room to her, taking the offered spoonful. "Jesus fuck, Em," he mumbled after eating the mouthful.
"Ah!" she slapped his hand with the spoon. "Don't ya be takin' the Lord's name in vain, boy!"
"Ow..." Jack rubbed his sore hand. "Sorry."
She clucked her tongue at him. "You watch what you be sayin' around here. I don't take no guff from skinny boys, clear?"
“Yes’m,” Jack pouted a little.
Em smiled and pointed to the chair. “You go sit an’ I’ll feed ya. Worry about the boss man, later. He’s gonna be fine, he will.”
x
"Sir..." Lucy appeared in the doorway of Bobby's office, her gaze respectfully lowered, a silver tray grasped in her trembling hands.
Bobby looked up, the harsh lines on his face relaxing somewhat. "Lucy," he murmured. "Leave the tray on the desk."
She gave a small nod and slipped into the room, pressing the tray onto the desk blotter. "S' head hurting?" she asked in broken English.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, nodding. "Pills?"
Lucy lifted the lid off the tray and set out the plate and bowl of food for him. Bobby wrinkled his nose and looked away from the food. "Pills, Lucy," he closed his eyes, willing the pangs to fade.
She jumped, startled. "Si," she whispered, hurrying from the room. She returned a moment later, bottle in hand, her fingers shaking. She apologized in rapid Spanish, her words jumbled and frightened.
"Lucy....Lucy!" Bobby reached up and gently clasped her wrist in his rough fingers. She let out a small sound, her brown eyes wide with fear.
"Shh, it's ok," he plucked the bottle from her fingers. "Calm down, alright?"
Lucy fidgeted with the tray; her cheeks stained a light red. "Si..."
"Go help Em with dinner," he said before dry swallowing two of his pills. She nodded and fled the room. He sighed, resting his head to his hands. His migraines were getting progressively stronger.
He fumbled with one hand, hitting the speaker button and then the first speed dial. The phone on the other line rang a few times before Jerry picked up, annoyed. "This is not restin', you callin' my ass every other hour."
"Shut the fuck up," Bobby mumbled. He breathed in the smell of the foods on the tray and felt his stomach roll. "I said I'd take a day off, that doesn't mean I ain't checkin' up on you."
"Now ain't the best time."
Bobby made a face at the shiny wood desk before him. "Money spent well?"
"Don't man, don't even," Jerry very nearly growled. "Aren't you s' posed to be sleepin' or somethin'? Too early for one of your bedtime cocktails? Little booze, little sleepin' pills?"
"I can make you and your paid pussy disappear if you don't shut the fuck up!" Bobby snarled, a flash of blinding pain ricocheting through his head.
Jerry swallowed his response. "Sorry, sorry, Bobby," he smoothed his voice out in the next beat. "I'm...y' know, with her and...And...yeah. Look, go lie down, man, you're gonna end up on the floor soon if you don't sleep."
"I can't sleep," Bobby clutched his head, shaking. "I keep seein' his eyes..."
"Whose?"
"The kid's....he came here today. Angel let him in while I was with you."
Jerry hesitated for several seconds. ""What kid? Bobby...you gave out your card again, didn't you?"
Bobby sighed. "Maybe..."
"Maybe," Jerry snorted. "Maybe you ain't learned your lesson yet. Picking them offa the streets like that? Christ, the kid'll probably stab you soon as you turn your back."
Bobby closed his eyes, thinking of Jack, of how fast he'd assumed what Bobby might want from him, the spark to those perfect baby blues. "He won't, I know he won't."
"You remember what happened last time, don'tcha?"
"Night, Jerry," Bobby pressed the speaker button, ending the call. He swallowed hard, forcing his head back up in the dim room. He dragged the tray over and picked at the food, swallowing the broth with small mouthfuls.
x
