Four Brothers
Aug. 24th, 2009 07:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veiledndarknessTitle: Strays 5/?
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.
This story will contain slash.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
X
"That is one big stack of pancakes," Jack eyed the plate in front of him with much disbelief. "You can't seriously expect me to eat all this."
Em pushed a bottle of syrup closer to him. "Ya better eat an' eat fast 'fore it gets cold. You nothin' but skin an' bones, boy. Eat."
"I'm not that skinny," Jack muttered. He grabbed the bottle and drizzled syrup over the stack.
"You boy, you look like a zipper been turned sideways."
Lucy let out a soft huff, an almost silent laugh at that. Em flashed a wide grin at Jack and waved her wooden spoon. "Don't make me hafta smack ya so early on this mornin’. You eat till Em say you full."
"Yes'm," Jack mumbled, mouthful of pancakes. They really were delicious. He licked his lips, holding back a groan.
Heavy footsteps echoed above them, bringing a lull to the general noise of the kitchen. "Boss man be up," Em wiped her hands on her apron. "Hopin' he slept some..."
"Oh, he slept," Angel said as he walked into the kitchen. "Got himself tucked in real nice." He flicked an amused glance at Jack, a knowing look to his eyes.
Jack glared at him and dropped his gaze to his plate; his cheeks stained a light pink by the implications of Angel's words. Angel gripped Jack's shoulder, squeezing a bit. "Yes, he even slept the whole fuckin' night. Musta been some kinda fairy magic or somethin' t' help him along....Ow!"
Em pointed one finger up at Angel. "No swearin' in this here kitchen, boy, or you gonna get another slap! An' you leave Jackie boy alone, y' hear?"
"Aw, Em, don't be so mean," Angel rubbed his sore hand.
She scowled at him. "Go eat, ya overgrown toddler."
Angel opened his mouth to protest, only to fall quiet when Bobby entered the kitchen, a frown creasing his forehead. "I...yeah, you got it, Em," he said, dodging her wooden spoon with great ease.
Jack lifted his gaze slowly, a flash of warmth rolling through him when he caught Bobby's attention. He smiled a little and broke the eye contact, returning his attention to his food. Lucy darted off to the side, almost behind Em.
"You eatin' in ya office, sir?" Em asked finally.
Bobby shook his head. "Nah, I'll stay here this mornin', Em. That pancakes, I see?"
"Yessir, the best ones to date, yeah they are. You sit an' give this a taste," she bustled about the kitchen, preparing his plate. She turned to Lucy and handed her a plate of her own. "Here Lucy girl, you sit an' eat now. I wantcha to finish at least half," she instructed her.
"Si...yes," Lucy whispered, staring at the tiled floor.
"Good, you go sit now with Jack an' eat up."
Lucy sat at the table, her shoulders hunched inwards, as if she'd rather be invisible. Jack curled his fingers around his fork, watching and absorbing the scene before him, very aware of Bobby watching him intently as Em placed the food and a large mug of coffee in front of him. Em shooed Angel over to the table after a moment, her plate in hand.
His stomach turned, flipping at the sudden feel of 'family', that they were a family, in a mixed way. He blinked and looked away, feeling very much like a stranger intruding on it all.
x
“I gotta say, you don’t look so shitty today,” Jerry remarked, his eyebrows twitching with amusement as he drank his coffee. “Not hung over, neither. What’s the occasion?”
Bobby grunted and signed a check, his signature a blur across the line. “Fuck off.”
“Still grumpy as all hell, but we can’t ask for miracles, now can we?”
He shot Jerry a dirty look and set his pen down. “I’m not hung over,” he muttered. “Kid got rid of my headache.”
“Headaches go away with Tylenol or Advil or some shit. What you got, those aren’t no fucking headaches. Those are migraines.”
“Gee, really?” Bobby drawled, rolling his eyes. “The point is that my head doesn’t hurt, ok?”
Jerry sipped the strong coffee, his lips curving up into a smile. “What’d he do?”
“Never mind,” Bobby placed the check on the right side of his desk and reached for another, filling in the details carefully. “He fixed the headache. End of story.”
“Oh c’mon, Bobby, man, you can’t leave me hangin’ like that,” Jerry protested.
“I can an’ I will. Do I ask how you fuck Camille?” he asked with a slight shudder. “God, even sayin’ that…”
“So you fucked him?”
Bobby growled under his breath. “Jeremiah, you’re treadin’ on such thin ice.”
“Is that a no?” he asked, raising one hand when Bobby’s glare went up a notch, “Alright, alright…sorry. What’s he like, anyway? Not like, uh, well…”
“He’s nothing like him,” Bobby spat, his face dark with banked fury.
Jerry waited several minutes before setting his mug down. “Look, I know you said you didn’t wanna talk about…before, but I really…”
“I really don’t wanna repeat myself,” Bobby tugged the check loose from the book. “It’s in the past and it doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah it does, cause you’re still not over it all.”
Bobby’s jaw clenched. He reached for his mug and drained half of the strong, heavily sugared coffee. “It’s over, ancient fucking history.”
“Bobby, its ok to be hurtin’, I mean Billy was-“
“One more word, Jerry, one more and I’m cuttin’ you loose.”
Jerry sighed. “So, you really sure about this, with…what’s his name?”
“Jack,” Bobby mumbled, his gaze landing on the desktop blotter.
“Jack what?”
Bobby’s lips twitched, “Just Jack, or so he tells me. And yeah, I am sure.”
“It’s not cause he’s pretty, right?” Jerry asked in careful tones, wary of pushing Bobby to the limit.
Bobby frowned. “What fucking difference does it make how he looks?”
“Cause you never pick the ugly ones,” Jerry smirked.
“Fuck off,” Bobby rolled his eyes and finished his coffee.
Jerry paused, staring at nothing. “Is that…do you hear that?”
Bobby looked up to the ceiling and a small smile flitted across his face. “Yeah, he plays the guitar.”
Jerry laughed quietly and shook his head. “Bobby…Be careful, ok? That’s all I’m gonna say. You…you can’t fix what’s wrong with some people.”
“There’s nothin’ wrong with Jack!” Bobby sat back with a sigh and rubbed a hand over his face. “C’mon, let’s get this goddamn shipment settled out. You sent to the warehouses, right?” he asked abruptly, signaling a clear end to the topic of conversation.
“Sure, Bobby…”
x
"C'mon, Em, you don't think he's kinda weird? I mean, weird for a skinny lil' white boy?"
"Boy, you lookin' for some smackin' or what?" Em leveled a glare at Angel. "Jackie boy ain't like...like you know what. You blind to that? Not everybody wanna hurt somebody, boy. Here," she lifted a large bag off the floor and handed it to him. "Make ya self useful an' take this to the garage."
Angel clasped the heavy bag with both hands. "Useful, she says," he rolled his eyes. "Last I checked, you don't sign my paychecks, I work for Bobby, not you."
"Maybe he do, but I know how much a' food poisonin' it'll take to bring boys like you down, cryin' for their mama's," Em smirked and lifted a second bag, walking slowly down the hall with it. "He's a good boy. I say so, an' Boss man thinks so too. Whatchu think don't matter."
"Em..." Angel sighed, following after her. "It's not that, man; we don't even know this kid. He goes an' finds them like this, only fucks him up more in the end. How many times do we gotta see it happen?"
"Angel boy, you gonna feel some kinda hurt if you don't stop the swearin'." Em dug a set of keys out of her apron pocket. She unlocked the side door from the hallway that led into the garage. With one hand she flipped the light switch, muted light flooding the room. "You don't got nothin' to be jealous over."
"Jealous?" Angel sputtered, his eyes wide. "Em, I love him, but I don't love him! He's like a brother!"
Em snickered and set the bags alongside one of the black luxury cars. "Ahh boy, you rile so easy. No one's sayin' you wanna be in the Boss man's bed. Jus' sayin' you don't gotta be jealous cause he got someone new."
Angel gritted his teeth. "I am not jealous. I'm worried. There's a world a difference, Em!"
"Worried 'bout what? Put the bag with the other," she instructed. She selected another key from the key ring and unlocked the trunk lid of the car.
Angel placed the bag in the trunk, along with the one Em had carried. "You like it when Bobby's hurtin'? When he's miserable an' you can't go near his room cause he might have a breakdown on ya? Huh? Well, I don't! I don't know this kid an' I smell trouble comin'."
"I smell someone who needs t' relax a little," Em shot back. "Go call one o' your lil' girlfriends, go spend some time with them."
"And when he breaks Bobby's heart, Em?" Angel crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw clenched.
"If that happens, we pick up them pieces like before," Em closed the trunk with a satisfying thud.
Angel grumbled and stalked away from her, annoyed. Em shook her head, "Stubborn asses, the lot of them."
"Em..." Lucy ducked into the garage, a basket of towels in her hands. "The washer," she said in carefully spoken words. "I...I have," she held up the basket.
Em smoothed the annoyed look from her face and nodded. "Good," she smiled. "C'mon, Lucy girl, we're gonna wash the sheets t' day too, ok?"
Lucy smiled tentatively. "Jack, he p-plays, I hear him," she tilted her head, looking up at the ceiling.
"Yeah, I seen his guitar case. I betcha he'd play somethin' for ya, if you asked him, I know he would," Em flicked the lights back off, guiding Lucy back out of the room. She locked the door behind her and dropped the keys in her pocket.
"S’ music, is beauty," Lucy whispered, her smile growing wider, "I hear, I hear now."
Em led her up the stairs, rubbing at her lower back as she went. "Uh huh, I hear Jackie boy now."
Strains of the guitar being strummed floated down the hallway. Em knocked on the door with two knuckles. "Jackie?"
"S' open," Jack called.
She opened the door, Lucy a few steps behind her. "Ahh, there's that noise," she grinned.
Jack ran his thumb along the strings. "Am I bein' too loud?"
"No, no, not even a little, boy. I love the music, ya body was made to feel the music, my mama always said," Em gestured to Lucy, bringing her forward. "Lucy likes it too. How 'bout you play somethin' while I grab your clothes for a wash."
"Uh well...y' see, the thing is, Em, I don't got a lot of clothes," Jack mumbled. He ran his fingers along the strings again, his head down, "Pretty much what I got on an' the sweaters an' coat is all."
Em frowned and nodded. "I getcha a robe, you wear that an' I'll wash what you got. Boss man'll getcha what you need."
The thought of protesting crossed Jack's mind until he saw the look of stubborn determination that she wore. "Um, yeak ok," he nodded.
"Stay put, I'll getcha the robe."
Jack nodded and plucked a string, listening to the muted echo. "Lucy," he looked up at her, watching her shift and fidget with the basket. "You like the guitar, right?"
Lucy swallowed and nodded, fidgeting more. "S' the sounds...an' you play...beauty," she managed to say.
"Aw," Jack shrugged, smiling. "Thanks." He played for a few minutes, no set pattern of sounds. He closed his eyes and let his fingers wander, creating the melody as he went, lost in the moment. His fingers slowed and he ducked his head to the side, opening his eyes. "That ok?"
A shy smile lit up Lucy's face and she nodded rapidly, "Oh si, yes, so...a-again?"
"He can play after he change outta them clothes," Em said as she entered the bedroom, a long robe draped over her arm. "Ya sing any songs when you be playin', boy?"
Jack set his guitar on the bed beside him. "Yes'm, I do. I play anythin' anyone asks me to. I make more money in the summer that way."
"I s' posed as much," she held the robe out to him. "'Ere, put this on, boy, an' let me see if I can save them clothes."
He took the offered robe and headed for the attached bathroom. "Aw Em, they aren't so bad. I mean, ok, they're dirty but it ain't like I rolled in the dirt every day."
"Safety pins ain't no excuse for zippers," she called back to him. "Lord," she shook her head as she examined Jack's worn leather jacket. "This been through a beatin' or two."
Jack stuck his head out of the bathroom. "Be careful with my baby," he grinned at her. "That jacket's older than me."
"An' looks it too," she muttered. "You got stuff in here that ain't for my eyes?"
"Nothin' I'm hidin' but a switchblade in the left pocket," he emerged from the bathroom a moment later, the robe tied tightly at his waist.
Em frowned. "I know why, but that don't mean I approve, boy." She handed the small blade to him. "Ya keep that tucked away an' I won't tell Boss man where I found it."
"Hey, it's saved me more than a few times, ok? You don't last as long as me by bein' unprepared," Jack grasped the blade, the weight of it comforting and familiar in his hand. "And if he don't like it..."
Em shook her finger at him, "Easy boy, don't be gettin' riled. He don't like no weapons in here, 'cept for his own, so you best tuck that away good n' proper, understand?"
“Yeah,” Jack set the switchblade on his bedside table and sat back down on the bed. “I will, no worries, Em.”
“Now you play somethin’ good for us,” she demanded with a smile, sorting through his ragged clothes.
Jack chuckled as he picked up his guitar. “You always this bossy?” he asked. “I thought you only ran the kitchen.”
She waved one hand, snorting. “Hah, that’d be the day. Mr. Boss man, he needs Em to do jus’ about everythin’ in this here house. Since his mama passed, he needs someone mindin’ after him.”
Jack blinked. “His….wait, I thought he was from the streets like me.”
“What, you think he popped outta some alleyway fully grown?” Em laughed and emptied the pockets of Jack’s jeans. “We all got mamas in the beginnin’, don’t we? Even big man like him had a mama once. His birth mama, she don’t count, an’ she’s burnin’ where it counts for what she done.”
Jack swallowed over the hard lump that formed in his throat. “So…so, what happened?”
“Ain’t my story to tell,” Em draped the jeans over Lucy’s basket. Lucy crossed herself and turned away, whispering something Jack couldn’t make out. “But him mama that found him when he was a street boy, she saw the child inside, you know? Not the outside, but the inside. That’s the mama who counts, Miss Evelyn Mercer, God rest her soul, yes.”
“Oh,” Jack whispered. He moved his fingers, breathing unevenly. He strummed the guitar, a slow, gentle tune starting, an almost lullaby.
“Sometimes, we gotta hurt for a long time ‘fore the hurt starts to heal, Jackie. And him, he’s hurt plenty; jus’ like us, and maybe even worse, so you see what I sayin’ to you?”
“Maybe,” Jack hummed a little, a song without words at first. “Em, I’m not…I don’t do bad stuff to people, honest.”
She favored him with a warm, bright smile. “I know, Jackie, I know you a good boy. You hurtin’ like him did, like him does still.”
Jack breathed out and studied the plush carpet beneath his feet. He closed his eyes and played for them, lost in the moment of the song once more.
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.
This story will contain slash.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
X
"That is one big stack of pancakes," Jack eyed the plate in front of him with much disbelief. "You can't seriously expect me to eat all this."
Em pushed a bottle of syrup closer to him. "Ya better eat an' eat fast 'fore it gets cold. You nothin' but skin an' bones, boy. Eat."
"I'm not that skinny," Jack muttered. He grabbed the bottle and drizzled syrup over the stack.
"You boy, you look like a zipper been turned sideways."
Lucy let out a soft huff, an almost silent laugh at that. Em flashed a wide grin at Jack and waved her wooden spoon. "Don't make me hafta smack ya so early on this mornin’. You eat till Em say you full."
"Yes'm," Jack mumbled, mouthful of pancakes. They really were delicious. He licked his lips, holding back a groan.
Heavy footsteps echoed above them, bringing a lull to the general noise of the kitchen. "Boss man be up," Em wiped her hands on her apron. "Hopin' he slept some..."
"Oh, he slept," Angel said as he walked into the kitchen. "Got himself tucked in real nice." He flicked an amused glance at Jack, a knowing look to his eyes.
Jack glared at him and dropped his gaze to his plate; his cheeks stained a light pink by the implications of Angel's words. Angel gripped Jack's shoulder, squeezing a bit. "Yes, he even slept the whole fuckin' night. Musta been some kinda fairy magic or somethin' t' help him along....Ow!"
Em pointed one finger up at Angel. "No swearin' in this here kitchen, boy, or you gonna get another slap! An' you leave Jackie boy alone, y' hear?"
"Aw, Em, don't be so mean," Angel rubbed his sore hand.
She scowled at him. "Go eat, ya overgrown toddler."
Angel opened his mouth to protest, only to fall quiet when Bobby entered the kitchen, a frown creasing his forehead. "I...yeah, you got it, Em," he said, dodging her wooden spoon with great ease.
Jack lifted his gaze slowly, a flash of warmth rolling through him when he caught Bobby's attention. He smiled a little and broke the eye contact, returning his attention to his food. Lucy darted off to the side, almost behind Em.
"You eatin' in ya office, sir?" Em asked finally.
Bobby shook his head. "Nah, I'll stay here this mornin', Em. That pancakes, I see?"
"Yessir, the best ones to date, yeah they are. You sit an' give this a taste," she bustled about the kitchen, preparing his plate. She turned to Lucy and handed her a plate of her own. "Here Lucy girl, you sit an' eat now. I wantcha to finish at least half," she instructed her.
"Si...yes," Lucy whispered, staring at the tiled floor.
"Good, you go sit now with Jack an' eat up."
Lucy sat at the table, her shoulders hunched inwards, as if she'd rather be invisible. Jack curled his fingers around his fork, watching and absorbing the scene before him, very aware of Bobby watching him intently as Em placed the food and a large mug of coffee in front of him. Em shooed Angel over to the table after a moment, her plate in hand.
His stomach turned, flipping at the sudden feel of 'family', that they were a family, in a mixed way. He blinked and looked away, feeling very much like a stranger intruding on it all.
x
“I gotta say, you don’t look so shitty today,” Jerry remarked, his eyebrows twitching with amusement as he drank his coffee. “Not hung over, neither. What’s the occasion?”
Bobby grunted and signed a check, his signature a blur across the line. “Fuck off.”
“Still grumpy as all hell, but we can’t ask for miracles, now can we?”
He shot Jerry a dirty look and set his pen down. “I’m not hung over,” he muttered. “Kid got rid of my headache.”
“Headaches go away with Tylenol or Advil or some shit. What you got, those aren’t no fucking headaches. Those are migraines.”
“Gee, really?” Bobby drawled, rolling his eyes. “The point is that my head doesn’t hurt, ok?”
Jerry sipped the strong coffee, his lips curving up into a smile. “What’d he do?”
“Never mind,” Bobby placed the check on the right side of his desk and reached for another, filling in the details carefully. “He fixed the headache. End of story.”
“Oh c’mon, Bobby, man, you can’t leave me hangin’ like that,” Jerry protested.
“I can an’ I will. Do I ask how you fuck Camille?” he asked with a slight shudder. “God, even sayin’ that…”
“So you fucked him?”
Bobby growled under his breath. “Jeremiah, you’re treadin’ on such thin ice.”
“Is that a no?” he asked, raising one hand when Bobby’s glare went up a notch, “Alright, alright…sorry. What’s he like, anyway? Not like, uh, well…”
“He’s nothing like him,” Bobby spat, his face dark with banked fury.
Jerry waited several minutes before setting his mug down. “Look, I know you said you didn’t wanna talk about…before, but I really…”
“I really don’t wanna repeat myself,” Bobby tugged the check loose from the book. “It’s in the past and it doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah it does, cause you’re still not over it all.”
Bobby’s jaw clenched. He reached for his mug and drained half of the strong, heavily sugared coffee. “It’s over, ancient fucking history.”
“Bobby, its ok to be hurtin’, I mean Billy was-“
“One more word, Jerry, one more and I’m cuttin’ you loose.”
Jerry sighed. “So, you really sure about this, with…what’s his name?”
“Jack,” Bobby mumbled, his gaze landing on the desktop blotter.
“Jack what?”
Bobby’s lips twitched, “Just Jack, or so he tells me. And yeah, I am sure.”
“It’s not cause he’s pretty, right?” Jerry asked in careful tones, wary of pushing Bobby to the limit.
Bobby frowned. “What fucking difference does it make how he looks?”
“Cause you never pick the ugly ones,” Jerry smirked.
“Fuck off,” Bobby rolled his eyes and finished his coffee.
Jerry paused, staring at nothing. “Is that…do you hear that?”
Bobby looked up to the ceiling and a small smile flitted across his face. “Yeah, he plays the guitar.”
Jerry laughed quietly and shook his head. “Bobby…Be careful, ok? That’s all I’m gonna say. You…you can’t fix what’s wrong with some people.”
“There’s nothin’ wrong with Jack!” Bobby sat back with a sigh and rubbed a hand over his face. “C’mon, let’s get this goddamn shipment settled out. You sent to the warehouses, right?” he asked abruptly, signaling a clear end to the topic of conversation.
“Sure, Bobby…”
x
"C'mon, Em, you don't think he's kinda weird? I mean, weird for a skinny lil' white boy?"
"Boy, you lookin' for some smackin' or what?" Em leveled a glare at Angel. "Jackie boy ain't like...like you know what. You blind to that? Not everybody wanna hurt somebody, boy. Here," she lifted a large bag off the floor and handed it to him. "Make ya self useful an' take this to the garage."
Angel clasped the heavy bag with both hands. "Useful, she says," he rolled his eyes. "Last I checked, you don't sign my paychecks, I work for Bobby, not you."
"Maybe he do, but I know how much a' food poisonin' it'll take to bring boys like you down, cryin' for their mama's," Em smirked and lifted a second bag, walking slowly down the hall with it. "He's a good boy. I say so, an' Boss man thinks so too. Whatchu think don't matter."
"Em..." Angel sighed, following after her. "It's not that, man; we don't even know this kid. He goes an' finds them like this, only fucks him up more in the end. How many times do we gotta see it happen?"
"Angel boy, you gonna feel some kinda hurt if you don't stop the swearin'." Em dug a set of keys out of her apron pocket. She unlocked the side door from the hallway that led into the garage. With one hand she flipped the light switch, muted light flooding the room. "You don't got nothin' to be jealous over."
"Jealous?" Angel sputtered, his eyes wide. "Em, I love him, but I don't love him! He's like a brother!"
Em snickered and set the bags alongside one of the black luxury cars. "Ahh boy, you rile so easy. No one's sayin' you wanna be in the Boss man's bed. Jus' sayin' you don't gotta be jealous cause he got someone new."
Angel gritted his teeth. "I am not jealous. I'm worried. There's a world a difference, Em!"
"Worried 'bout what? Put the bag with the other," she instructed. She selected another key from the key ring and unlocked the trunk lid of the car.
Angel placed the bag in the trunk, along with the one Em had carried. "You like it when Bobby's hurtin'? When he's miserable an' you can't go near his room cause he might have a breakdown on ya? Huh? Well, I don't! I don't know this kid an' I smell trouble comin'."
"I smell someone who needs t' relax a little," Em shot back. "Go call one o' your lil' girlfriends, go spend some time with them."
"And when he breaks Bobby's heart, Em?" Angel crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw clenched.
"If that happens, we pick up them pieces like before," Em closed the trunk with a satisfying thud.
Angel grumbled and stalked away from her, annoyed. Em shook her head, "Stubborn asses, the lot of them."
"Em..." Lucy ducked into the garage, a basket of towels in her hands. "The washer," she said in carefully spoken words. "I...I have," she held up the basket.
Em smoothed the annoyed look from her face and nodded. "Good," she smiled. "C'mon, Lucy girl, we're gonna wash the sheets t' day too, ok?"
Lucy smiled tentatively. "Jack, he p-plays, I hear him," she tilted her head, looking up at the ceiling.
"Yeah, I seen his guitar case. I betcha he'd play somethin' for ya, if you asked him, I know he would," Em flicked the lights back off, guiding Lucy back out of the room. She locked the door behind her and dropped the keys in her pocket.
"S’ music, is beauty," Lucy whispered, her smile growing wider, "I hear, I hear now."
Em led her up the stairs, rubbing at her lower back as she went. "Uh huh, I hear Jackie boy now."
Strains of the guitar being strummed floated down the hallway. Em knocked on the door with two knuckles. "Jackie?"
"S' open," Jack called.
She opened the door, Lucy a few steps behind her. "Ahh, there's that noise," she grinned.
Jack ran his thumb along the strings. "Am I bein' too loud?"
"No, no, not even a little, boy. I love the music, ya body was made to feel the music, my mama always said," Em gestured to Lucy, bringing her forward. "Lucy likes it too. How 'bout you play somethin' while I grab your clothes for a wash."
"Uh well...y' see, the thing is, Em, I don't got a lot of clothes," Jack mumbled. He ran his fingers along the strings again, his head down, "Pretty much what I got on an' the sweaters an' coat is all."
Em frowned and nodded. "I getcha a robe, you wear that an' I'll wash what you got. Boss man'll getcha what you need."
The thought of protesting crossed Jack's mind until he saw the look of stubborn determination that she wore. "Um, yeak ok," he nodded.
"Stay put, I'll getcha the robe."
Jack nodded and plucked a string, listening to the muted echo. "Lucy," he looked up at her, watching her shift and fidget with the basket. "You like the guitar, right?"
Lucy swallowed and nodded, fidgeting more. "S' the sounds...an' you play...beauty," she managed to say.
"Aw," Jack shrugged, smiling. "Thanks." He played for a few minutes, no set pattern of sounds. He closed his eyes and let his fingers wander, creating the melody as he went, lost in the moment. His fingers slowed and he ducked his head to the side, opening his eyes. "That ok?"
A shy smile lit up Lucy's face and she nodded rapidly, "Oh si, yes, so...a-again?"
"He can play after he change outta them clothes," Em said as she entered the bedroom, a long robe draped over her arm. "Ya sing any songs when you be playin', boy?"
Jack set his guitar on the bed beside him. "Yes'm, I do. I play anythin' anyone asks me to. I make more money in the summer that way."
"I s' posed as much," she held the robe out to him. "'Ere, put this on, boy, an' let me see if I can save them clothes."
He took the offered robe and headed for the attached bathroom. "Aw Em, they aren't so bad. I mean, ok, they're dirty but it ain't like I rolled in the dirt every day."
"Safety pins ain't no excuse for zippers," she called back to him. "Lord," she shook her head as she examined Jack's worn leather jacket. "This been through a beatin' or two."
Jack stuck his head out of the bathroom. "Be careful with my baby," he grinned at her. "That jacket's older than me."
"An' looks it too," she muttered. "You got stuff in here that ain't for my eyes?"
"Nothin' I'm hidin' but a switchblade in the left pocket," he emerged from the bathroom a moment later, the robe tied tightly at his waist.
Em frowned. "I know why, but that don't mean I approve, boy." She handed the small blade to him. "Ya keep that tucked away an' I won't tell Boss man where I found it."
"Hey, it's saved me more than a few times, ok? You don't last as long as me by bein' unprepared," Jack grasped the blade, the weight of it comforting and familiar in his hand. "And if he don't like it..."
Em shook her finger at him, "Easy boy, don't be gettin' riled. He don't like no weapons in here, 'cept for his own, so you best tuck that away good n' proper, understand?"
“Yeah,” Jack set the switchblade on his bedside table and sat back down on the bed. “I will, no worries, Em.”
“Now you play somethin’ good for us,” she demanded with a smile, sorting through his ragged clothes.
Jack chuckled as he picked up his guitar. “You always this bossy?” he asked. “I thought you only ran the kitchen.”
She waved one hand, snorting. “Hah, that’d be the day. Mr. Boss man, he needs Em to do jus’ about everythin’ in this here house. Since his mama passed, he needs someone mindin’ after him.”
Jack blinked. “His….wait, I thought he was from the streets like me.”
“What, you think he popped outta some alleyway fully grown?” Em laughed and emptied the pockets of Jack’s jeans. “We all got mamas in the beginnin’, don’t we? Even big man like him had a mama once. His birth mama, she don’t count, an’ she’s burnin’ where it counts for what she done.”
Jack swallowed over the hard lump that formed in his throat. “So…so, what happened?”
“Ain’t my story to tell,” Em draped the jeans over Lucy’s basket. Lucy crossed herself and turned away, whispering something Jack couldn’t make out. “But him mama that found him when he was a street boy, she saw the child inside, you know? Not the outside, but the inside. That’s the mama who counts, Miss Evelyn Mercer, God rest her soul, yes.”
“Oh,” Jack whispered. He moved his fingers, breathing unevenly. He strummed the guitar, a slow, gentle tune starting, an almost lullaby.
“Sometimes, we gotta hurt for a long time ‘fore the hurt starts to heal, Jackie. And him, he’s hurt plenty; jus’ like us, and maybe even worse, so you see what I sayin’ to you?”
“Maybe,” Jack hummed a little, a song without words at first. “Em, I’m not…I don’t do bad stuff to people, honest.”
She favored him with a warm, bright smile. “I know, Jackie, I know you a good boy. You hurtin’ like him did, like him does still.”
Jack breathed out and studied the plush carpet beneath his feet. He closed his eyes and played for them, lost in the moment of the song once more.
X
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Date: 2009-08-25 12:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-09 10:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 03:26 am (UTC)I really liked how you've gradually been working more of Bobby's past into the story - I'm curious about what all happened with Billy. (Also, I know you've written a Death Sentence crossover before - is this Billy Darley we're talking about here, or did you just like the name?)
Anyway, amazing work! I'm looking forward to chapter six!
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Date: 2009-09-09 10:02 am (UTC)As for Billy....keep reading to find out :)
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Date: 2009-08-25 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-09 10:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-26 04:38 am (UTC)Hmmmm I wonder if this Billy here is Billy Darley? ;)
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Date: 2009-09-09 09:59 am (UTC)And thanks :)
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Date: 2009-08-29 06:31 pm (UTC)MORE SOON!!
-shadow
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Date: 2009-09-09 10:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-06 05:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 02:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-02 04:07 am (UTC)