Four Brothers
Jun. 10th, 2008 11:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veiledndarknessTitle: All For Him 1/?
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Bobby/Jack
Rating: R
Summary: Billy Darley wants his baby brother back.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no harm intended, no profit made.
A big thank you to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
littlewitch34 for all your help, inspiration and answering of my endless ideas and questions.
*Cross-over with Death Sentence *
xx
"You sure that's 'im?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," Colin fidgeted, swaying a little on his feet. He watched the tall man before him lift the dog eared photo from the messy, cluttered desk and compare it to the new photo in his gloved hand. "I checked t' be sure."
Cold blue eyes met his, lips twisted in faint amusement. "Good thing."
"The guy I spoke with, Mike, told me that he'd moved t' Chicago 'bout a year ago. Gonna be a rock star or some shit like that," Colin shrugged.
The man's gloved finger traced over the newer photo, sliding down the glossy sheet, the shine of it reflecting obscenely in the poorly lit room. "A rock star..." he chuckled dryly, "O' course."
"He's got a family now, some old broad adopted 'im," Colin said as he dropped another photo on the desk, "Couple brothers too."
The man glanced at the photos, a sneer replacing his almost grin. "Not blood, s'not the same, now is it, Colin?" he drawled.
Colin bit back the urge to flinch. "No, Billy, it ain't," he agreed. "I only got a bit on the brothers. One's in the marines, 'nother works in construction or housing, shit like that, all unionized, still in Detroit."
"That's it?" Billy scooped up the photo of the white haired woman, a pure smile on her face.
"Nah, one more," Colin put down the last photo, a copy of a prison mug shot. "That one there, that's the oldest, his name's Bobby."
Billy glanced at it and snorted. "Stupid enough t' get caught?" he grabbed the photo and tucked it with the others inside his red leather jacket. "He some sort of con?"
"Yeah, in and outta jail more n' a few times," Colin said. "Last name's Mercer."
Billy paused and looked at Colin speculatively. "Mercer," he said flatly, "As in Bobby fuckin' Mercer?"
Colin nodded warily. "Yeah," he said.
Billy barked out a harsh laugh and ran a hand over his smooth scalp. "Oh yeah, I fucking love this," he waved to Colin. "You did good, man, real good. C'mon, let's go find my baby brother."
Colin dutifully followed Billy from the room, the manic smile on Billy's face more than a little unsettling to him.
xx
Jack packed his duffel bag with shaking hands, the occasional tear running down his pale cheeks. He grabbed random shirts and tossed them in the bag, jeans and shorts, his belts, a few handfuls of rings and necklaces before he stopped and looked down at the mess on his bed, Evelyn's words about always packing neatly echoing in his ears. Without warning, Jack crumpled to the floor and dropped his head to his knees, weeping softly.
Jack rested his weary head on his arms, staring at nothing as he replayed the phone conversation he'd had with Jerry not more than twenty minutes before. Jerry's voice had been hoarse; his words plain and sharp somehow, cutting through him.
Jack blew out a quiet breath and stood up, wiping at his wet eyes with the backs of his hands. He reached for his duffel bag and overturned it, repacking the items neatly and carefully. The funeral...Jack steadied himself. The funeral was in two days, he had two days to get back to Detroit.
Once he was packed, Jack gave his small apartment a final once over, his gaze wandering over the bare walls and the cold wooden floor, all his meager belongings stark in the early morning light. He shrugged his coat on and shouldered his bag.
As he did so, he felt a cold trickle of unease slide down his back, a bolt of fear running through him. Jack turned back, looking at his bed. He hurried over and dug his journal out, a faded picture slipping from the sheets as he tucked the book into his bag. He smiled thinly; satisfied that he had his most prized possession aside from his guitar with him.
Jack locked the door behind him, wiping at a stray tear as he did so. He hadn't been home for over a year despite his situation, regardless of how much he had desperately wanted to crawl back, tail between his legs and admit that he was a failure. Jack breathed in shakily and walked to the dirty stairwell at the end of the hall, not trusting the unreliable excuse for an elevator.
The door closed behind him just as the elevator doors screeched open, two tall, bald men stepping out.
xx
Billy tried the doorknob and twisted it, the metal squeaking under his fingers. He grunted and let go of the doorknob, gesturing to it irritably. "Colin!"
Colin stepped forward and pulled a small black box from his pocket. He opened it and withdrew his tools, picking the lock easily. Billy pushed on the door with one long arm, the cheap wood falling back against the frame. He stepped over Colin and strode into the tiny room, his eyes narrowed.
"What a fuckin' hole," he muttered. He dug his cigarettes out and lit one, exhaling a plume of smoke.
"We gonna wait till he comes home?" Colin asked as he slid his lock picking tools back into the container.
Billy clamped down on the cigarette between his lips. "Look 'round," he said. He eyed the pitiful excuse for a bed, the metal frame chipped and rusted, a messy nest of thin blankets tossed over the lumpy mattress. He shook his head and began searching the room.
He opened the drawers of the dresser, moving the clothes aside. He frowned at some of the t-shirts and various jewelry items. Colin opened the closet and flipped through the few boxes there, journals, papers and other assorted junk. He wandered through the cramped bathroom and tiny kitchen idly.
"Nothin' in here, Billy," Colin called.
Billy stood, facing the window. "He ain't comin' back," he said, "least not any time soon."
Colin brushed his hands off, the dust motes floating in the dim morning sunshine. "You think?"
Billy nodded and flicked his cigarette, the ash falling carelessly to the wooden floor. "Most of his shit is gone, he took off somewhere," he murmured. He glared at Colin. "You cover your tracks when you asked 'round?"
Colin nodded. "Yeah, I was careful," he assured him.
Billy inhaled deeply and sat down on the bed, a faint rustling drawing his attention. He looked down, the edge of a faded photo sticking up from the blankets at his side. He lifted the picture up, his blue eyes widening in recognition.
"The fuck..."
Colin leaned in cautiously, keeping his distance from Billy's free hand. "Yeah...that's him alright," he said. "Well, him a few years ago."
Billy clutched the photo in his gloved hand, his eyes devouring the details. The picture was of Jack and another man, the man's red jersey clad arm around Jack's waist, a possessive glint to his eyes, Jack cradled to his chest. Jack had a shy smile on his face, his eyes amused, and a hint of white teeth showing as he leaned against the man.
"That's Mercer?" Billy all but growled.
Colin nodded. "Mhm, that's the oldest brother."
"The fuck is he doin' holdin' Jack like that?" Billy stood up, a furious scowl on his face.
Colin took two steps back from Billy, accustomed to his sudden rages. "I don't know, Billy, I swear, I didn't hear nothin'..."
Billy folded the picture and pushed it into his pocket. "The fuckin'...I swear to God, if he..." he seethed, storming over to the dresser again. He rifled through the stack of letters on the top, spotting one with feminine writing on the envelope. He memorized the return address and then pocketed the stack of letters as well.
"C'mon," he said, waving one hand at Colin.
Colin paused when the phone rang. They both waited until the shrill ringing faded, a crackly, robotic voice instructing the caller to leave a message. Billy's eyebrows rose when a low male voice came on.
"Jackie, it's Jerry again. Listen, I'll pick you up from the bus terminal, got it? Jus' wait for me, don't be trying to take a cab, I'll get you before her funeral. Just...Just be there, it's gonna be ok, Jack, I swear. You be careful, man, you hear me? Bye Jack, see you."
Billy's lips curled into a nasty smile. "Aw, that's a damn shame. C'mon, he's headin' back to Detroit."
Colin nodded curtly and closed the door behind them, jogging to keep up with Billy.
xx
Jack pushed the crumpled bills at the tired looking lady in the ticket booth, her crimson lipstick faded and stained over her mouth, her eyes weary and worn. Jack mumbled a ‘thank you’ when she passed the ticket stub to him along with his change. He stuffed the loose coins in his jeans pocket and hunched over as he walked over to the row of plastic orange colored chairs that lined the walls of the waiting area.
He sat down with a sigh and crossed his legs; his duffel bag protectively wrapped under one arm. Jack closed his eyes, his eyes prickling with unshed tears. The sudden awareness kept coming, small waves of pain that made his stomach clench. Evelyn…He shuddered and gripped his duffel bag with white knuckles.
Evelyn…The first woman to be truly kind to him, to not expect anything in return, to be so kind, so loving…
Jack opened his eyes and blinked stubbornly until the urge to cry faded. His stomach growled lowly, protesting the lack of food in the past day. Jack contemplated the meager amount of money he had left, the vending machine in the far corner calling his attention.
He counted out two dollars in quarters and forced himself up and across the faded, stained tiles. He pumped the quarters in and selected one of the chocolate bars, scooping it up from the tray of the machine. He bought a bottle of water next and carried his breakfast back to the plastic chairs, eating the candy bar slowly, trying to make it last.
Jack drifted into a light sleep, each memory of Evelyn floating along in his mind. She was the reason that he was still whole, the reason that he could function properly, even the reason that he had a guitar, the one possession he guarded with his life. She made him feel like he was worth it. A tear trickled down his cheek in his half sleep.
"Jackie..."
He can see her, white hair glowing in the sunshine; her hands clear in front of him, no weapon hiding, and no malice to her smile. He leans against her, smelling her lilac scented perfume, the feel of her rosary beads around her neck pressing against his cheek.
"It's better now," she whispers, one delicate hand rubbing his back in soothing circles.
He looks up at her, his eyes wide and stinging with tears. "No...Ma, please."
"Hush now," she murmurs with a gleam of sadness to her faded blue eyes.
"You promised," he croaks, tightening his grip on her. "You promised..."
"I'm not gone, not really, Jackie," she presses a kiss to his cheek, the sunshine flooding the space they're standing in, and Jack can feel his grip loosening.
"No..." he pleads, his shoulders shaking as she smiles at him.
"I love you," she says, kissing his forehead. Jack's eyes close, unable to watch her leave.
"No..."
A sudden, shrill voice announced the arrival of the bus, the muted rumble of the bus’s engine nearing the station. Jack awoke with a start, his chest rattling with each harsh breath. He groaned and stood up, his long legs wobbly from his sleep. He shouldered his bag and walked towards the entrance, his face carefully blank.
As he joined the cue line for the bus, Jack thought fleetingly of Bobby, another bittersweet wave of memories flowing over him. Jack trudged forward, a glimpse of something pale catching his eye. Jack paused on the bottom step of the bus, two bald men coming around the corner of the bus station just then.
Jack caught a hint of too-blue eyes and then stepped up the rest of the stairs into the bus, a barely there tug of recognition passing him. He slid into a window seat, his duffel bag pushed under his chair securely. Jack pulled his legs up carefully and rested his head on his knees, watching the people milling about outside. He caught another glimpse of blue eyes, the smooth scalp a startling sight in the midst of the crowds, the tips of a tattoo swirling along the man's neck.
The man stared at him through the window, a cigarette trailing smoke at his side. Jack blinked slowly, the flicker of recognition pulling again as the bus engine started up. Jack closed his eyes and looked away, sleep calling for him. The bus lurched away from the sidewalk and started off down the road.
Colin cracked his knuckles on one hand, both he and Billy watching the bus leave. "He see you?" he asked, breaking the strained silence.
"Yeah..." Billy murmured, flicking his cigarette. "He didn't recognize me, but he saw me."
"It's been a long time since he saw you, y' can't expect him to remember everythin'," Colin rubbed a hand over his head, holding back a sigh.
"They took him from me," Billy took a final drag from his cigarette and dropped it to the pavement, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot. "They fuckin' took him, fourteen goddamn years, Colin!"
"We'll get 'im, Billy," Colin turned and headed for the parking lot where they'd left Billy's car. "We'll bring him home, man."
Billy glared at the back end of the bus as it merged with the local traffic. "Yeah," he whispered. "Lil' Jackie..."
xx
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Bobby/Jack
Rating: R
Summary: Billy Darley wants his baby brother back.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no harm intended, no profit made.
A big thank you to
littlewitch34 for all your help, inspiration and answering of my endless ideas and questions.*Cross-over with Death Sentence *
xx
"You sure that's 'im?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," Colin fidgeted, swaying a little on his feet. He watched the tall man before him lift the dog eared photo from the messy, cluttered desk and compare it to the new photo in his gloved hand. "I checked t' be sure."
Cold blue eyes met his, lips twisted in faint amusement. "Good thing."
"The guy I spoke with, Mike, told me that he'd moved t' Chicago 'bout a year ago. Gonna be a rock star or some shit like that," Colin shrugged.
The man's gloved finger traced over the newer photo, sliding down the glossy sheet, the shine of it reflecting obscenely in the poorly lit room. "A rock star..." he chuckled dryly, "O' course."
"He's got a family now, some old broad adopted 'im," Colin said as he dropped another photo on the desk, "Couple brothers too."
The man glanced at the photos, a sneer replacing his almost grin. "Not blood, s'not the same, now is it, Colin?" he drawled.
Colin bit back the urge to flinch. "No, Billy, it ain't," he agreed. "I only got a bit on the brothers. One's in the marines, 'nother works in construction or housing, shit like that, all unionized, still in Detroit."
"That's it?" Billy scooped up the photo of the white haired woman, a pure smile on her face.
"Nah, one more," Colin put down the last photo, a copy of a prison mug shot. "That one there, that's the oldest, his name's Bobby."
Billy glanced at it and snorted. "Stupid enough t' get caught?" he grabbed the photo and tucked it with the others inside his red leather jacket. "He some sort of con?"
"Yeah, in and outta jail more n' a few times," Colin said. "Last name's Mercer."
Billy paused and looked at Colin speculatively. "Mercer," he said flatly, "As in Bobby fuckin' Mercer?"
Colin nodded warily. "Yeah," he said.
Billy barked out a harsh laugh and ran a hand over his smooth scalp. "Oh yeah, I fucking love this," he waved to Colin. "You did good, man, real good. C'mon, let's go find my baby brother."
Colin dutifully followed Billy from the room, the manic smile on Billy's face more than a little unsettling to him.
xx
Jack packed his duffel bag with shaking hands, the occasional tear running down his pale cheeks. He grabbed random shirts and tossed them in the bag, jeans and shorts, his belts, a few handfuls of rings and necklaces before he stopped and looked down at the mess on his bed, Evelyn's words about always packing neatly echoing in his ears. Without warning, Jack crumpled to the floor and dropped his head to his knees, weeping softly.
Jack rested his weary head on his arms, staring at nothing as he replayed the phone conversation he'd had with Jerry not more than twenty minutes before. Jerry's voice had been hoarse; his words plain and sharp somehow, cutting through him.
Jack blew out a quiet breath and stood up, wiping at his wet eyes with the backs of his hands. He reached for his duffel bag and overturned it, repacking the items neatly and carefully. The funeral...Jack steadied himself. The funeral was in two days, he had two days to get back to Detroit.
Once he was packed, Jack gave his small apartment a final once over, his gaze wandering over the bare walls and the cold wooden floor, all his meager belongings stark in the early morning light. He shrugged his coat on and shouldered his bag.
As he did so, he felt a cold trickle of unease slide down his back, a bolt of fear running through him. Jack turned back, looking at his bed. He hurried over and dug his journal out, a faded picture slipping from the sheets as he tucked the book into his bag. He smiled thinly; satisfied that he had his most prized possession aside from his guitar with him.
Jack locked the door behind him, wiping at a stray tear as he did so. He hadn't been home for over a year despite his situation, regardless of how much he had desperately wanted to crawl back, tail between his legs and admit that he was a failure. Jack breathed in shakily and walked to the dirty stairwell at the end of the hall, not trusting the unreliable excuse for an elevator.
The door closed behind him just as the elevator doors screeched open, two tall, bald men stepping out.
xx
Billy tried the doorknob and twisted it, the metal squeaking under his fingers. He grunted and let go of the doorknob, gesturing to it irritably. "Colin!"
Colin stepped forward and pulled a small black box from his pocket. He opened it and withdrew his tools, picking the lock easily. Billy pushed on the door with one long arm, the cheap wood falling back against the frame. He stepped over Colin and strode into the tiny room, his eyes narrowed.
"What a fuckin' hole," he muttered. He dug his cigarettes out and lit one, exhaling a plume of smoke.
"We gonna wait till he comes home?" Colin asked as he slid his lock picking tools back into the container.
Billy clamped down on the cigarette between his lips. "Look 'round," he said. He eyed the pitiful excuse for a bed, the metal frame chipped and rusted, a messy nest of thin blankets tossed over the lumpy mattress. He shook his head and began searching the room.
He opened the drawers of the dresser, moving the clothes aside. He frowned at some of the t-shirts and various jewelry items. Colin opened the closet and flipped through the few boxes there, journals, papers and other assorted junk. He wandered through the cramped bathroom and tiny kitchen idly.
"Nothin' in here, Billy," Colin called.
Billy stood, facing the window. "He ain't comin' back," he said, "least not any time soon."
Colin brushed his hands off, the dust motes floating in the dim morning sunshine. "You think?"
Billy nodded and flicked his cigarette, the ash falling carelessly to the wooden floor. "Most of his shit is gone, he took off somewhere," he murmured. He glared at Colin. "You cover your tracks when you asked 'round?"
Colin nodded. "Yeah, I was careful," he assured him.
Billy inhaled deeply and sat down on the bed, a faint rustling drawing his attention. He looked down, the edge of a faded photo sticking up from the blankets at his side. He lifted the picture up, his blue eyes widening in recognition.
"The fuck..."
Colin leaned in cautiously, keeping his distance from Billy's free hand. "Yeah...that's him alright," he said. "Well, him a few years ago."
Billy clutched the photo in his gloved hand, his eyes devouring the details. The picture was of Jack and another man, the man's red jersey clad arm around Jack's waist, a possessive glint to his eyes, Jack cradled to his chest. Jack had a shy smile on his face, his eyes amused, and a hint of white teeth showing as he leaned against the man.
"That's Mercer?" Billy all but growled.
Colin nodded. "Mhm, that's the oldest brother."
"The fuck is he doin' holdin' Jack like that?" Billy stood up, a furious scowl on his face.
Colin took two steps back from Billy, accustomed to his sudden rages. "I don't know, Billy, I swear, I didn't hear nothin'..."
Billy folded the picture and pushed it into his pocket. "The fuckin'...I swear to God, if he..." he seethed, storming over to the dresser again. He rifled through the stack of letters on the top, spotting one with feminine writing on the envelope. He memorized the return address and then pocketed the stack of letters as well.
"C'mon," he said, waving one hand at Colin.
Colin paused when the phone rang. They both waited until the shrill ringing faded, a crackly, robotic voice instructing the caller to leave a message. Billy's eyebrows rose when a low male voice came on.
"Jackie, it's Jerry again. Listen, I'll pick you up from the bus terminal, got it? Jus' wait for me, don't be trying to take a cab, I'll get you before her funeral. Just...Just be there, it's gonna be ok, Jack, I swear. You be careful, man, you hear me? Bye Jack, see you."
Billy's lips curled into a nasty smile. "Aw, that's a damn shame. C'mon, he's headin' back to Detroit."
Colin nodded curtly and closed the door behind them, jogging to keep up with Billy.
xx
Jack pushed the crumpled bills at the tired looking lady in the ticket booth, her crimson lipstick faded and stained over her mouth, her eyes weary and worn. Jack mumbled a ‘thank you’ when she passed the ticket stub to him along with his change. He stuffed the loose coins in his jeans pocket and hunched over as he walked over to the row of plastic orange colored chairs that lined the walls of the waiting area.
He sat down with a sigh and crossed his legs; his duffel bag protectively wrapped under one arm. Jack closed his eyes, his eyes prickling with unshed tears. The sudden awareness kept coming, small waves of pain that made his stomach clench. Evelyn…He shuddered and gripped his duffel bag with white knuckles.
Evelyn…The first woman to be truly kind to him, to not expect anything in return, to be so kind, so loving…
Jack opened his eyes and blinked stubbornly until the urge to cry faded. His stomach growled lowly, protesting the lack of food in the past day. Jack contemplated the meager amount of money he had left, the vending machine in the far corner calling his attention.
He counted out two dollars in quarters and forced himself up and across the faded, stained tiles. He pumped the quarters in and selected one of the chocolate bars, scooping it up from the tray of the machine. He bought a bottle of water next and carried his breakfast back to the plastic chairs, eating the candy bar slowly, trying to make it last.
Jack drifted into a light sleep, each memory of Evelyn floating along in his mind. She was the reason that he was still whole, the reason that he could function properly, even the reason that he had a guitar, the one possession he guarded with his life. She made him feel like he was worth it. A tear trickled down his cheek in his half sleep.
"Jackie..."
He can see her, white hair glowing in the sunshine; her hands clear in front of him, no weapon hiding, and no malice to her smile. He leans against her, smelling her lilac scented perfume, the feel of her rosary beads around her neck pressing against his cheek.
"It's better now," she whispers, one delicate hand rubbing his back in soothing circles.
He looks up at her, his eyes wide and stinging with tears. "No...Ma, please."
"Hush now," she murmurs with a gleam of sadness to her faded blue eyes.
"You promised," he croaks, tightening his grip on her. "You promised..."
"I'm not gone, not really, Jackie," she presses a kiss to his cheek, the sunshine flooding the space they're standing in, and Jack can feel his grip loosening.
"No..." he pleads, his shoulders shaking as she smiles at him.
"I love you," she says, kissing his forehead. Jack's eyes close, unable to watch her leave.
"No..."
A sudden, shrill voice announced the arrival of the bus, the muted rumble of the bus’s engine nearing the station. Jack awoke with a start, his chest rattling with each harsh breath. He groaned and stood up, his long legs wobbly from his sleep. He shouldered his bag and walked towards the entrance, his face carefully blank.
As he joined the cue line for the bus, Jack thought fleetingly of Bobby, another bittersweet wave of memories flowing over him. Jack trudged forward, a glimpse of something pale catching his eye. Jack paused on the bottom step of the bus, two bald men coming around the corner of the bus station just then.
Jack caught a hint of too-blue eyes and then stepped up the rest of the stairs into the bus, a barely there tug of recognition passing him. He slid into a window seat, his duffel bag pushed under his chair securely. Jack pulled his legs up carefully and rested his head on his knees, watching the people milling about outside. He caught another glimpse of blue eyes, the smooth scalp a startling sight in the midst of the crowds, the tips of a tattoo swirling along the man's neck.
The man stared at him through the window, a cigarette trailing smoke at his side. Jack blinked slowly, the flicker of recognition pulling again as the bus engine started up. Jack closed his eyes and looked away, sleep calling for him. The bus lurched away from the sidewalk and started off down the road.
Colin cracked his knuckles on one hand, both he and Billy watching the bus leave. "He see you?" he asked, breaking the strained silence.
"Yeah..." Billy murmured, flicking his cigarette. "He didn't recognize me, but he saw me."
"It's been a long time since he saw you, y' can't expect him to remember everythin'," Colin rubbed a hand over his head, holding back a sigh.
"They took him from me," Billy took a final drag from his cigarette and dropped it to the pavement, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot. "They fuckin' took him, fourteen goddamn years, Colin!"
"We'll get 'im, Billy," Colin turned and headed for the parking lot where they'd left Billy's car. "We'll bring him home, man."
Billy glared at the back end of the bus as it merged with the local traffic. "Yeah," he whispered. "Lil' Jackie..."
xx
