Note: I don't own Four Brothers or The End by Pearl Jam

Chapter 36

My dear
The end
Comes near

Angel kept glancing over his shoulder at the door every time it opened.

"I told you, man, no strippers," Bobby said, tilting his chair back on two legs, shaking his head.

"But …" Angel gestured to the door, confused. "This is a bachelor party, right?"

Bobby let the chair drop to the floor with a thunk. "This ain't enough for you – chillin' with your brothers, good whiskey, good conversation? Not a bad send off for your last night of freedom, if you ask me."

"Boobs, Bobby. I want to see boobs. And I don't mean you three." He leaned back in his chair, glowering his best glower as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Johnny G's was jumping for a Friday night – well, as close to jumping as a dive bar in Detroit could get - couple of rowdy twenty-somethings at the bar, Motown on the jukebox, and a scattering of couples at the tables. It was clear that everyone had one thing in common – get drunk fast, as cheaply as possible. Good ol' Detroit.

Johnny ambled on over to their table with a bottle of whiskey. He sloppily poured it into their shot glasses, clapping Angel on the shoulder. "This round's on me, guys." he said and Jack couldn't help but notice that he poured each shot slightly less full than he normally would.

Angel nodded his thanks and Johnny laughed and shook his head. "Never thought I'd see the day …"

"What day would that be?" Jerry asked, twisting the glass on the table. Jack could tell he was contemplating whether or not he should drink it – after all, he'd reached his three drink limit within thirty minutes of sitting down and Jerry hated leaving his precious Volvo behind and taking a cab. Jack didn't give a fuck and downed his seconds after Johnny had poured it.

"Another Mercer, getting hitched. Your mom would be proud." Johnny gave a sentimental smile. "I remember when she adopted each and every one of you. You know the grief the neighborhood gave her?"

Jack looked up, startled to hear Johnny talk about Evelyn in such a personal way. He really had no idea the guy knew her as more than just a sweet old lady who lived a couple of blocks away and had a reputation for taking in strays.

Johnny sighed and Jack had a brief flash of worry that he was going to start crying. Talk about awkward. "She was a great lady," Johnny said, gruffly.

"That she was," Bobby said.

Johnny sat the bottle of Jack Daniels in the center of the table. "On the house. For Evelyn," he said as he made his way back to the bar.

"Thanks, man," Jack said as he picked it up and refilled his glass. He heard Bobby growl next to him. Old habits die way too fucking hard. Despite being mostly healed from all the stupid injuries he'd received during Bobby's shitty road trip, his oldest brother still found it necessary to police every goddamn thing he did. Light a cigarette: Bobby scowls. Pour a drink: Bobby growls. Sleep past noon: Bobby bangs on his door like the house is on fire.

Jack downed the shot and then, just to piss off his brother, picked up the bottle to pour another. Bobby snatched the bottle out of his hand. "You're cut off, Princess."

"You can't tell me what to do," Jack said, his words slurring slightly.

Jerry looked down at the table, his fingers lightly tapping on the surface and he laughed.

"What?" Jack asked him.

"Nothin', man. Just that you sounded all of about five there." Jerry shook his head and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Some things never change."

"You know, Jer, you're right," Bobby said, a glint in his eye. Jack didn't like that glint. "You want a timeout in the corner while you think about your behavior tonight, Jackipoo?"

"Fuck you, man," Jack said, digging his fingernail into a gouge on the table.

"Just give him the damn bottle, Bobby," Angel said.

"You want him puking on the crazyass blushing bride as she says her 'I do's'?" Bobby asked and then he paused, a sinister grin forming. He slid the bottle in front of his youngest brother. "On second thought, drink up, Buttercup. Puke away."

Angel growled and grabbed the bottle.

"Hey," Jack said, his head starting to swim. He may have had a little too much … five, or was it six? Maybe seven? … but that didn't mean they had the right to treat him like a little kid.

"You ain't fucking up my wedding," Angel said steadily.

Bobby cackled, wincing as he rubbed the healed wound on his chest. Being an asshole had its consequences sometimes. "Leave the fucking up shit to La Vida Loca - her eight thousand bridesmaids and the Cha Cha band playing La Cuckoo Racha on a constant loop."

"La Cuckoo what?" Angel asked, confused as hell.

Bobby tossed back the amber liquid in his shot glass in one swallow and then leaned back in his chair, tipping it onto two legs. "Trust me, it sucks."

XxXxXxXxXx

Jack, Angel and Bobby all fidgeted in their tuxes as they stood next to Angel at the front of the church. The husband-to-be looked like he was about to have a full blown panic attack – weird breathing, sweating, clenching and unclenching his fists. Jack ran through his best man duties – basically they amounted to "don't lose the fucking ring" – and couldn't figure out what he should do.

"Jerry," he whispered. "Is Angel okay?"

Jerry leaned over and clasped a hand on Angel's shoulder. "You okay, man?"

Angel nodded on an exhale and shook his head, like he was prepping for a match in a boxing ring. Seemingly satisfied, Jerry shrugged and moved back to his spot.

"You bought that?" Jack asked.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Well, you know about this stuff."

"There's no instruction manual."

"Will you two shut the fuck up," Bobby said from behind them. He was third in line, not for any reason other than everyone agreed it was best to keep him as far away from Sofi as possible.

"Bobby, you can't say fuck – we're in a church," Jerry scolded.

Bobby pulled at his bow tie and grimaced. "That dumb bitch put me in a hot pink shirt, I'll say what ever I fucking want."

"Fuchsia," Jack said suddenly, without meaning to.

Bobby growled and Jack took a step closer to Angel. "Don't think I've forgotten your little role in this, sweetheart." Bobby's voice dripped with menace and Jack remembered Sofi asking for advice and … him giving it. Shit.

Two bridesmaids shushed them from their side of the stage and the maid of honor glared so fiercely that Bobby may or may not have been rendered sterile at that very moment. Their part of the ceremony was done – Daniela and Amelia as flighty flower girls, a ring bearer who got distracted halfway down the aisle, and a parade of what seemed to be one hundred bridesmaids. Jack had to keep shifting his weight to keep his bad knee from giving out on him. It had been a long ceremony already and no one had even seen the bride yet.

Speaking off … the wedding march started, silencing everyone, even Bobby. The doors at the back of the church opened and Sofi was on the other side, her arm linked with her father's, her giant grin visible through her veil. Angel gave a strangled moan that sounded like air escaping from a tire, like he was slowly dying.

Jack swore he heard a metal clanking sound as Sofi made her way down the aisle. It was just under the Wedding March, keeping time with the beat of the song.

Dun-Dun-Da-Da-Clang-Rattle-Dun-Dun-Da-Da-Dun-Dun

It was like Sofi was dragging a ball and chain down the aisle with her. He shook his head, and banged the heel of his palm over his ear to clear it. He was obviously going insane.

"You're next, Jackie," a voice whispered in his ear and he almost fell off the stage. Great, Evelyn was back.

"Next for what?" he whispered back and Angel gave him a funny look over his shoulder.

"You'll see," she said with a chuckle.

XxXxXxXxXx

Bobby clanged his beer bottle with his knife and then stood up - everyone in the room fell silent. Like a car crash, you didn't want to look, but you absolutely positively couldn't tear your eyes of the impending destruction.

Taking a breath, Bobby spoke, his voice booming out across the tables of wedding guests. "Sofi, no bullshit, just welcome to family." He took his seat and the whole wedding party table was staring at him, Sofi had her mouth hanging open.

"That's it?" she said, narrowing her eyes, gripping her fork, like she wasn't sure if she should drop it or hold onto it in case he was lying and she'd need to stab him for saying something awful.

Bobby stood again and cleared his throat. "Yes, that's it."

She visibly relaxed, her shoulders drooping as she sank back into her chair.

Bobby was about to sit, when he stopped, raising his fingers to the buttons of his shirt. "Oh, wait there is one thing." He quickly unbuttoned the row of buttons, easily finding them admist the ruffles. "If you ever think about putting me in a hot pink shirt again –"

"Fuchsia," she interrupted with a smug twist of her lips and he glared at her as he tugged the shirt off his shoulders.

Jack leaned over to Angel. "There's that stripper you wanted."

"Man, shut up, Jackiepoo."

Bobby leaned over and tossed the shirt, hitting Angel square in the face. "She's all yours, sweetheart."

XxXxXxXxXx

Needing some air, Bobby snuck out the back, through the kitchen of the restaurant Sofi's dad had shelled out a small fortune to rent. He wasn't the least bit surprised to see Jack out there, sitting on the steps, beer bottle in one hand, cigarette in the other.

"Those things'll kill you," he said out of habit.

Jack held up both hands. "Gotta be more specific, man." He laughed and took a long drag off his cigarette. Bobby rolled his eyes, lowering himself with a groan to the empty spot next to his brother.

Jack glanced over at him with concern. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Bobby said.

Jack gave a lopsided grin. "Just getting old?"

A smack upside the back of his head was his answer. "I can still whup your ass."

Jack winced and rubbed the back of his head and figured it would be wise to change the topic. "Wedding turned out okay."

"Still can't believe that woman is a Mercer."

"Seriously?" Jack gave him a look that told him his baby brother thought he was off his rocker. "Sofi's almost as much a Mercer as you are. Stubborn, loud, loyal … she belongs with us." Jack leaned back, his elbows braced on the step behind him.

"Don't ever let her hear you say that," Bobby said as he grabbed Jack's beer and took a long sip from it. "Don't give her an inch …"

"You should give her a break – she was really worried when you were in the hospital."

Bobby snorted a laugh. "Probably worried the wedding would be postponed for my funeral."

"Nah, we would have had it anyway."

Bobby sat the now empty bottle on the step next to him, his shoulders hunched as he looked out across the alley the kitchen opened into. He could make out the shadowy figure of a bum of few doors down and a rat was playing keep-away with a pigeon. He couldn't decide if he loved the grime or hated it. Maybe a little of both.

"It's just going to be the two of us in that house after Angel leaves," he finally said.

"Yeah," Jack answered. "I know. Weird, huh?"

"Are you staying?"

Those three words hung in the air – almost like everything they'd gone through – Evelyn, Victor, Jack almost dying, the shit with Victor's dad and then Bobby almost dying – whether it was worth it or not hinged on Jack's answer. He took a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm staying. You?"

Bobby nodded after a few beats. "For a while. We'll see how it goes."

Jack grinned as he lit another cigarette. "You ain't going nowhere."

"Whatever you say, Jackie."

He was about to bitch at Jack for smoking just because, like with Sofi, you can't give the kid an inch, even if he really didn't care anymore. But he didn't get a chance because an unexpected visitor stepped out of the shadows and from the side of the building, stopping right in front of where they were sitting.

He looked up, mildly surprised to see who it was. "Remy?"

"Mercer," she answered, her gaze darting down the alley way before coming back to rest on him.

"Hey," Jack said with a lame wave.

"Hey, kiddo," she said, her smile shaky. Bobby narrowed his eyes as he studied her. He knew his bartender as well as just about in his life who wasn't one of his brothers – she was calm, cool, collected - even after she'd shot a guy in the head, she'd kept her wits about her and didn't freak out. Sure, shit rattled her, but she looked downright spooked standing there in front of him.

"Remember how I said you were going to owe me?" she asked, jamming her hands in the pockets of her jacket and shivering despite the fact it wasn't cold out.

"No," he said bluntly.

"Well, it's time to pay up, Mercer," she said, tilting her chin like she was bracing for a blow, a determined gleam in her eye despite her obvious nerves. "I need help."

The End

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A/N - It's really and truly over - it only took five years lol. And as for those five years, thank you so much to everyone who stuck by this story and my terrible updating habits. I'm so thankful for each and every reader, review, alert and favorite. You guys have all been amazing - new and old readers alike. Thank you for taking this rambling journey with me - I was writing it for you guys almost as much as I was writing it for myself. As for the cliffhanger - I'm sorry, I couldn't resist - those last couple of lines have been written in a file for almost two years now, so there was no way I wasn't going to use them. And you never know, maybe there will one day be a short story called "Bobby and Remy's Excellent Adventures" ... It could happen ...

And the little moment with Evelyn at the wedding talking to Jack - that's foreshadowing for my other series of stories about Jack and Kathy. If you haven't read them, the main story is Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk and I'm very proud of it.

Anyway, thanks again for everything - I hope you enjoyed it!

~ Laura