I'm almost giddy with excitement. With exam week in school there isn't much time to write, and it drives me crazy. But now I'm here! And it's the first chapter in the sequel to the story that I loved writing more than I have loved writing anything else. As always, Lucy thank you so much for your continued support, you have no idea what it means. And thanks to everyone who reviewed and read "Loss of innocence" and decided to tag along to this story. As usual I still don't own four brothers.
Bobby's voice was hoarse, and a bit gravelly since he hadn't used it for awhile, but it was still so familiar that Jack could do nothing but press his head tight to Bobby. He didn't feel anything but that, that familiarity. He felt like home.
"I don't know..." Bobby's voice, so confused, finally made Jack lift his head to look at him.
"You don't remember?" He asked quietly, his eyes searching Bobby's.
Both Jack and Bobby's eyes turned to the door at the sound of Angel's voice. He and Jerry quickly disposed of their coffee and then they were right there beside him, grasping his hands, tears in their eyes.
"Who died?" Bobby tried to joke, but it somehow felt wrong. His laughter caught in his throat, and he couldn't prevent a cough.
Jack had turned pale, his wide eyes locked on Bobby's face.
Jerry pressed the button, and soon enough a nurse was in the room, paging the doctor and smiling at Bobby, who looked at her like she was nuts. His coughing soon stopped and he sighed and leaned back, suddenly so very tired. He just wanted to sleep. His eyes locked on Jack's. "What, you were saying something..."
"It dosen't matter" Jack swallowed hard.
"Bobby. We've been waiting for you to wake up"
Bobby's doctor stepped inside. After introducing himself to Bobby he began his exam.
"Do you remember what happened? Why you're in the hospital?"
No one noticed when Jack took a step back, leaving the group. He had waited for this moment for so long, prayed for, begged for it, and now that it was here he couldn't help but wish that maybe Bobby wouldn't remember... maybe he wouldn't remember how everything was Jack's fault. Maybe he wouldn't remember how Jack had almost gotten him killed.
"No... Why am I here? I don't know..." Bobby trailed off, looking more confused than the brothers had ever seen him.
"That's okay Bobby, it might be the drugs too. Are you in pain?" The doctor asked.
"A little, maybe..."
That was a bad sign. Bobby admitting he was in pain meant he was in a lot of pain.
"Alright" The doctor pushed the button that controlled the dosage of morphine entering Bobby's arm.
When Bobby noticed he tried to protest, but his weak body soon felt even more heavy and his eyes wanted to close but he fought it with all his might. There was something he needed to know, something he did know, something important. "No, don't I need to know..."
The doctor placed a hand on Bobby's arm trying to stop his movements. "Bobby. What you need right now is to rest, and to heal, that's all that matters now".
Bobby tried to shake off his arm but it came out weak. He glanced around at his brothers, the one he was searching for standing off to the side. "Jack"
When his name was called Jack took a step forward. He feared the words he thought would come from his brothers mouth but was at the same time unable to ignore the fact that he asked for him. He took another step until he was at Bobby's side once again, grasping the hand that reached for him. He met his brothers worried eyes with his own. He wondered if the guilt shone through them as much as it burned inside him.
"Jack" His hand in his had calmed him but he didn't know why, suddenly he had just had this weird feeling in his chest, that worry. "You okay?"
His words were slightly blurry now, as the drugs were beginning to work their way through his body. His body hurt, but for some reason he needed to know that Jack was alright.
Jack swallowed. Was he... had he ever been. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just rest, okay Bobby? We'll be here when you wake up".
Bobby didn't answer, he was asleep before Jack had finished talking.
"Damn stupid bastard... Can't you do anything?"
He hung his head low. He hated being reprimanded.
"Can you fucking answer? Or are you too stupid? Yeah that's it. Thank god your moma offed herself huh boy? She'd cry seeing what a waste she carried around"
His mom. Yeah. The woman who left him. That one.
"Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you!"
A hard blow made him drop to the floor. He tasted blood an for a moment he felt something he had never felt before. It was intense, the pure rage, but he pushed it away, what right did he have to feel anything... He felt the tears well up and tried to force them back. It was pointless to cry and it only served to piss his Dad off anyway. He hated seeing weakness in anyone, especially his bastard son.
"It's completely normal. His body needs to heal"
The doctor tried to convince them that the likelyhood of Bobby slipping back into a coma while he was asleep was very slim unless something happened, but the brothers were still worried and didn't want to leave his room. Jack was once again in his usual chair next to Bobby and Jerry and Angel were gathered around.
"I can't help but wonder... is there someone we should have called?"
"That day?" Angel asked, his voice low, an unsure look in his face"
"Yeah... I mean his work? Friends? I just don't know..."
"There's no one" They looked at Jack, who continued staring at the wall. "You know Bobby" He cleared his throat, it suddenly felt so very very dry. "No close friends".
"Except us" Angel declared, smiling slightly.
"Yeah" Jack didn't move his eyes from the wall. "Except us".
He could barely move. His body hurt all over from the beating he had received the night before. Robert, he didn't call him dad anymore, had come home drunk and pissed, having lost all his money at the local poker table, and had once again taken it out on his son. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the pain. Work through it, just work through it, don't try to push it away, go through it. He dragged himself to the kitchen and found Robert on the floor. Empty bottles littered the floor around him. He sighed when he saw the contents of the fridge. Something that once may have been bread was the only thing there, just like it had been for the last few days. Still he couldn't help but check everyday. With one look at Robert he took his jacket and left, not bothering to lock the door behind him. He was sure no one would willingly enter that shithole anyway.
Walking down the street he soon found himself outside Denny's. He wasn't allowed to drink, but Denny usually didn't mind if he came inside to warm up. Walking in he spotted Denny behind the bar and he headed over.
"Bobby" He took in his blue eye and cut lip. "Rough night?"
"You could say that"
Denny just nodded. He didn't mind if he hung out there, but that was as far as his generosity stretched. As he had once told Bobby, stupid people never got anywhere, an dealing out drinks for free and to those underage fit in that category.
He sat down at a table in one of the corners. He was so hungry his stomach ached, or maybe that was from the hits he'd taken, he didn't know.
He spent the rest of the day there, watching people come and go. The day had turned into night before anyone took any notice of him. He'd seen the guy watch him, so he was prepared when he sat down in front of him.
"You look like you could use some money"
It's strange the things we remember and the things we forget, Jack mused. He couldn't remember when he'd last told Bobby that he loved him. He tried to sort through his memories since he arrived back in Detroit and before that, before he left, before Bobby left, but he couldn't remember. He knew he'd said it, he remembered the first time he said it, but he didn't remember saying it after that time. Why hadn't he? The brothers were still sitting around Bobby's bed but Angel and Jerry had fallen asleep some time ago. Jack was surprised that no one had entered the room with a stun gun to silence the loud snoring noises coming from Angel. He chuckled a little at the thought but soon turned silent again.
Looking out the window he observed the citys tall buildings. For so long he had wanted to escape this town. Not his family, but his memories of all the shit that had happened here. He had thought New York was what he needed, but shit had continued there. If he was honest with himself he had needed his family, despite claiming that he needed to be independent. And now they were all back in Detroit. For how long he wondered. Strange how despite everything he felt home here, more than he ever had in New York. He started humming.
"These broken city lights..."
Sorry for the short chappie but exams took a lot longer than I expected and then I went home for the weekend since it was my birthday yesterday (yay), but consider this the start. Lucy don't worry, when I'm 75 and sitting in a home I'll still be asking the other elderly what they think Jack should do now, and they'll be like: Who? Lol.