A/N: Dedicated to Brandi N. Jones. Because she did it for me. Random idea I had. Please review!
Bobby couldn't remember the last time he had felt like this. Oh, wait, he could. In fact, he could remember nearly every agonizing minute of it and he wanted to forget. He had just paused by the end of an aisle when an employee finally noticed his frantic look and asked, "Can I help you, sir?"
He turned to glare at the fresh-faced girl who seemed to shrink in the face of his frustration. "What?"
"Are you looking for something in particular?"
"Yeah, a kid. A kid about this high—" Bobby raised a hand just above his waist "—with fuzzy hair, scrawny, wearing a black sweatshirt. You seen him?"
"I'm sorry, perhaps you should alert the manager. He can call on the intercom for your…"
"Brother," Bobby quickly supplied, ready to continue searching on his own. Who needed store managers and employees who didn't give a— He broke from his mental tirade and waved a hand at the girl, explaining as he turned away that he would do fine, his brother would show up.
But Jack was good at hiding.
Why would he do this? Bobby repeated for the thousandth time, wondering at the spirit that seemed to possess his little brother every so often, right after they'd just made some progress with him. He hadn't disappeared in a long time. Three months ago he would vanish weekly. Nobody knew where he was and they'd pretty much stopped caring once they found he would at least partially respect their rules and not leave the neighborhood. It had always turned out okay. Few thugs or dangerous people hung around the Mercers' section of town. And most knew better than to mess with a Mercer, even if he was a defenseless little guy with the biggest eyes Bobby had ever seen…
Stop it, Bobby, you're making it worse. Just find the stinking kid and get him in the car. You can lecture him on the way home. Oh, boy, is he going to get a lecture…
Bobby skidded to a halt, strode down an aisle and grabbed a kid by the shoulder, turning him around to see—not Jack. He didn't bother to explain or apologize. Hardly. He had to find Jack. There may not be thugs hanging around in their neighborhood, but that didn't mean they couldn't hang around in the local supermarket.
Jack twisted his hands in the inside pocket of his sweatshirt. Somehow he'd lost track of Bobby and now he was trapped in a maze of tall aisles and towering can pyramids which all looked the same. He tried not to make eye contact with the strangers that meandered through. Some looked at him curiously. Others shuffled by, grunting when they wanted him to move so they could grab something. Nobody had actually said anything to him until now.
He wasn't sure that he should trust his luck. Sure, the woman seemed nice enough. But he'd seen past a kind face before and still had the scars to prove it. She was crouching down, smiling a little and asking his name softly.
"Are you lost?"
Lost? No, of course not. He just couldn't find Bobby. But, really, any person could see the sign: they were in Aisle 12 with the tomato sauce jars. How could he be lost?
He shook his head.
The woman looked around. "Where are your parents?"
Parents? He'd never had any. Evelyn, sure, but she was just Ma. Not this formal word: "parents." And Bobby…well, Bobby couldn't really be considered a parent, but he was pretty close as far as authority went. Bobby would probably get angry if he started talking to someone strange. Jack could envision his older brother, coming around the aisle corner with that swagger of his that said just as clearly as the hard look on his face: "Stand back. I'm a Mercer."
"Listen, Beulah, let's go."
Jack's head jerked so hard he thought it might fly off his neck. A man who he thought had been shopping for grapefruit was looking at the woman kneeling in front of him impatiently. The man turned to Jack and said shortly, "Look, kid, are your parents around?"
Jack didn't move. He froze, but not because he was afraid. He was just wary, now, and he wanted even more than before to find Bobby. The man was impatient and looked like he could become angry very easily.
Tired of Jack's silence, the man scanned the produce section again. "He's here alone. They probably left without him. Come on, let's get going."
The woman sighed and stood up, taking Jack by the arm as she did so, not unkindly. "Come with us, sweetheart, and we'll help you find your mom and dad," she said, leading him after the man as they headed to the front doors.