Write Your Own Song

Chapter 5

"Who the hell did this?" Bobby demanded from the front steps as he stared down at the top of the kid's head and his ragged mop of hair. It was not the view he preferred. What he wanted was a better look at that bruise that was blossoming across his cheek and the other one darkening his eye. He thought he saw a split lip, too, but the kid had ducked his head so quickly that he couldn't be sure.

"Was it Angel?"

The kid shook his head, at least he thought he did. It was hard to tell under all that damn hair.

"Jerry?"

Another no.

"Goddamnit, kid … Jack - tell me who did this and I'll take care of it."

Jack finally looked up and glared at Bobby. He wasn't expecting that - he was used to him being all timid and scared around him.

"Why do you care?" Jack said it so softly that Bobby had to lean in to hear him.

"What?"

"Why do you fucking care?" His voice was stronger now and he fired off each word like a violent gunshot. He gave an angry tilt to his chin, the blood streaming from his cut lip, staining the top of his t-shirt, as he silently dared Bobby to say something.

"I care because you're a Mercer now and we look out for our own."

The kid laughed and rolled his eyes and Bobby fought the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him.

"We look after our own," he repeated with conviction. "I'm your brother now and I'll fucking protect you from whatever shit made it look like you got in a fight with a truck and lost."

The kid pushed past him, heading for the front door, but Bobby grabbed his arm before he could get away. Jack violently pulled his arm away from him, his breath hitching in his chest and Bobby could see the fear that flashed in his eyes. He forgot - the kid didn't like to be touched. Well, Bobby didn't like to be ignored, so Jack was shit out of luck.

He waited, expecting Jack to rush into the house and into Evelyn's waiting arms, but instead he stood there, his breath spilling out in hectic cloudy puffs in the cold air.

"You'll protect me?" Jack said with a laugh far too cynical for someone so young. "You'll take care of me? Right, where have I heard that before?"

"I mean it Jack - I won't ever let you get hurt. I promise you'll be safe."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Jack said as he turned on his heel and went into the house, the door slamming behind him.

Bobby was alone on the porch steps but the scene around him had shifted and changed. Snow covered everything and the air was even colder than before. A useless shotgun dangled in one hand and soundless bullets ricocheted behind him, shattering brick and wood in their wake. There were people all around him, but he couldn't focus. The lack of sound was disorienting and everything seemed to tilt and spin without reason.

"Bobby!" A scream suddenly ripped through the silence and the world righted itself, the scene taking on a sharp clarity. That scream was the only sound Bobby could hear and the anguish and pain in that single word tore at his chest, driving the air from his lungs.

He frantically scanned the front yard, looking for the source of the screaming. There, not fifty feet away from him, lay his baby brother, the snow around him stained with blood. Disregarding the flying bullets and ignoring the black clad men surrounding the house, Bobby ran for Jack, but he didn't seem to be getting any closer. It felt like he was running through chest deep water, his legs growing tired as he tried to get closer but something was holding him back. The harder he tried, the louder the screaming got.