Note: This is my first Four Brothers Fan fiction. Rated T for language and drug use. Enjoy.

Summary: Twelve year old Jack finally has the two things he's always wanted in life: a family and a home. However he finds out the hard way that being a Mercer isn't always a joy ride. Old habits die hard, and Jack's finds himself wishing that his new family would give him some space and let him hold onto his destructive vices. But they're a family now, and that means being there for him, whether they're wanted or not. Will Jack continue to live in the psychedelic world of drugs, or will his new family help him face his inner demons? And when his childhood nightmares resurface, at what lengths will Jack go to, to remove the plague they carry with them?

I want a new drug.

One that won't make me sick.

One that won't make me crash my car,

Or make me feel three feet thick.

I want a new drug.

One that won't hurt my head.

One that won't make my mouth too dry,

Or make my eyes too red.

-Huey Lewis and The News

I Want a New Drug

My watch says it's two oh nine in the morning, which means it's really two oh four. My watch is always five minutes fast.

I lean my head against the backseat's window, watching the other passengers through squinted eyes. Married men coming back from their girlfriends' houses, mothers getting off their second shift of work, teens mentally counting the money they've made from tonight's big drug sell. Welcome to Detroit; the largest city in southeastern Michigan, one of the most important car manufacturing centers in the world, and home to over 925,051 people. I am one in almost 100,000. Not a very encouraging number to an individualist.

The bus comes to a halt at it's last stop of the day; the ever pleasant subway. The bus quickly unloads, the late November air slicing through jackets. At least, those of us smart enough to have one on. I push through the emotionless people and step onto the escalator, taking us down to the boarding area. Luckily for me, the wind isn't welcome in the confined tunnel, and I'm able to warm myself up with the friction of my hands against my arms.

"You're a fuckin' genius, Jack Mercer." I curse myself again for wearing nothing more than a black long-sleeved shirt. I ignore the looks I get, and step into the subway train uneasily. I'm tired, frustrated, worried, cold, hungry, and most importantly, high. Not to mention stupid.

When the train stops, I unload once again and prepare myself for the winter night above ground. Four more blocks to my house. Four more blocks to my bed, to heat, to food, I tell myself. I walk swiftly through the parked cars and cursing taxi drivers.

"Guess sleeping is a thing of the past." I say out loud as I dodge after-Thanksgiving shoppers and noisy tourists. Why people want to come to the north in the winter, I'll never know. Just two more blocks, I encourage myself, sticking my hands into my jean pockets. I finger the small amount of cocaine and pills of Valium that I convinced Freddie to let me have. Freddie always gives me freebies when he's high.

I cringe when my house comes into view, noticing the living room light is still on. That means someone is waiting up for me, and that someone is mostly likely Bobby. Ma is easy. I can tell her I missed the ten oh clock bus, had to walk to the subway, and forgot the right stop to get off at. After all, I've only lived here a month and a half. Ma would nod her head, not quite believing, but not having energy to call me out on the lie. Then I could grab something to eat, sneak up stairs to my room, and fall asleep under the warm covers. Bobby Mercer isn't as easily charmed.

Bobby, who turned twenty-four last month, will call me out on the lie before I even have it out of my mouth. He'll know right away I'm on drugs, know who've I've been with, and lecture me on how I'm a Mercer now and a twelve year old kid has no business popping pills and snorting coke. It won't be the first time I've heard this lecture, and it won't be the first time Bobby's threatened to follow me around, night and day, to make sure I don't do any more drugs. I sigh, taking in a deep breath and preparing myself for a long night.

"Well, it's nice of you to finally show up, Jackie." Bobby's voice welcomes me as soon as the door is opened. I close it shut tightly behind me, being sure to lock it firmly.

"I-I uh, missed the bus." I tell him, biting my tongue in frustration. Why do I always fucking stutter around him? He stands up from his place on the couch, stretching his legs and back.

"I-I uh, don't believe that bullshit for one fucking second." He answer mockingly. He holds out his hand before I can answer, demanding me to give him whatever's in my pockets.

"And don't say you don't having anything either." He warns. "Jus' cause I dropped outta high school, doesn't mean I'm a moron." I dig around in my pockets, handing over the coke. He snatches it out of my hand angrily, dragging me into the downstairs bathroom.

"Snort it or flush it." He order sternly, daring any bullshit. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Instead, I take the bag from him and dump it into the toilet, watching longingly as it disappears.

"Don't ever let me catch you with this shit again." He hisses, pushing me out of the bathroom and towards the stairs. I nod mutely and take the stairs two at a time, anxious to get to my room. The lecture has been saved for tomorrow.

I shut my bedroom door behind me and kick off my shoes. Taking the three pills from my pocket, I look over my shoulder self-consciously, and down them quickly. Then I climb into bed, not bothering to change clothes, and start counting backwards from one thousand.

I roll over lazily on my side and fling my feet over the side of my bed. I sit up slowly, in no hurry to answer the head-throbbing wake up call, courtesy of eighteen year old Jerry. How's anyone supposed to get any sleep around here?

"Jack, get your lazy, white, ass the fuck down here right now!" Jerry screams. Again. I cradle my head in my hands, and wiggle my toes that are starting to fall asleep. I can hear Ma admonish Jerry, for cursing most likely, and pounding footsteps heading towards my room. Fucking hell, I think, here it goes.

"Jackie, I swear to God kid if I gotta drag your ass downstairs I will!" Angel threatens.

"What time s'it?" I mumble. Angel looks at me unsympathetically.

"Nine in the morning, Kiddo, and if ya didn't spend all night on the streets you wouldn't be so fuckin' tired!" He lectures. He grabs my arm and yanks me off of the bed.

"Get up. Get dressed. There's doughnuts downstairs. Bobby wants to play some hockey today, and you can bet your ass he's gonna repay ya for keeping em' up all fuckin' night." He tells me, slamming my bedroom door behind him. I sigh and flop to the floor, laying on my back and staring up at the ceiling. It's gonna be a long day.


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