"When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long" is not mine, it belongs to an unknown person. Another story about Bobby sitting by Jack's bed in the hospital, waiting for him to wake up. I don't own four brothers.
He's thinking about Thanksgiving. About what he said at the table, that he was thankful that they'd been brought back together. He had been. Despite his mother being killed and the reason they were all there, he had been thankful.
Jesus Christ our lord and saviour, thank you for this day. Thank you for this food we're about to receive and thank you for bringing us together. Amen.
He wasn't anymore.
Some days he stares silently at his brother, watching and waiting for a sign, he waits for it with a patience he didn't know he had, and he tells himself that he can do this, he can fix this, for Jack he'll fix everything. As the days pass a part of him starts to realize that the sign he's waiting for may never come.
Some days he plans. He thinks about them, about what he'll do to them when he finds them. About him. He thinks most about him. He's always been impulsive in his fights, he plans and then he just... let go. He knows this isn't like that. This he wants to savor. When the time comes, and he knows it will, he'll savor every minute of their pain. He's angry, but he's detached from it. This isn't about anger. It's about blood and family and pain and justice, everything he wants. For probably the first time in his life he's ready to wait for it. He hates them with a ferocity he didn't know he could possess. For all that he's done and every fucked up thing he ever saw, he can't ever remember hating like this before. He hates them almost as much as he hates himself for letting this happen.
Some days he cries.
They talk about him. The Doctors and the nurses, even Jerry and Angel. He don't care. The Doctor continues his nagging, telling him he has to eat, and sleep in a bed for at least one night. That he's no good to Jack if he can't stand on his own feet. He probably never was any good to Jack, at least not if you look at where he ended up. The Doc is patient, trying to reassure him, we're not trying to take you away from him Bobby...
Like you fucking could.
He's losing it. The days pass and Jack hasn't woken up. He don't want to believe it, he can't, but a part of him knows that Angel's words from the day before may be true. That Jack's simply tired of fighting. Tired of fighting just to stay alive. Tired of fighting for something Bobby knows he's not sure he even wants. Jack's always had a complicated relationship with life and death.
He's tired, and for every day that pass his heart breaks a little bit more, it gets a little harder to breathe and he wonders if he's dying too. He never thought he'd see anything as horrible as the video of his mother being killed, and then Jack was shot in front of him and he knew he was wrong. Now he wonders if this isn't worse, watching his brother slowly transform into a lifeless corpse while he sits by and watches, unable to stop it. Yeah, he's sure nothing has ever hurt like this before.
Some days he wants to give up just from the sheer agony of it. He wants to lay down and die, just so he dosen't have to feel this pain anymore, this guilt. Just so he dosen't have to watch his little brother die. He dosen't, because when he wants to the most he remember Evelyn's gentle voice and remember her stroking Jack's hair and Bobby sees his scared young eyes and he knows he can do this, for Jack. Because Jack's holding on, and he will too. When you feel like giving up remember why you held on for so long...
The day Jack opens his eyes is the happiest he's ever been. He's alive and even though it'll take time before he's alright everything feels lighter. The Doc is happy too, or happy for him at least, but he's worried about Jack's knees. Jack's eyes cloud and the hole in Bobby's heart which has almost started to close just a little bit, opens again. He chokes back the sudden lump in his throat and tells Jack he better get up an walking soon cause he refuses to cart him around, even though they all know he would.
It's night and everyone's asleep. Everyone but him. He sits by Jack's side silently, once again watching him. His hand lingers as he strokes his hair back from his face, wondering how someone who's seen so much can look so young. A big part of him dosen't want to leave, not now, not when Jack is here with them again, but another part of him burns, and he leans his head against Jack's, silently telling him that he'll take care of everything.
I wanted a different look on Bobby, like almost losing Jack almost made him lose his mind. Thinking about posting a companion piece to this one, about Bobby dealing with Sweet. Will probably not be on the ice if so. Hope you like it!