Because I love this movie so much, I finally decided to do a Fanfiction about it.
I own NOTHING of what David Elliot and Paul Lovett had written. I do own Olivia Friedman
Text in Italics are memories
Reviews would be extremely nice!(:

After discovering the death of Evelyn Mercer, Detective Olivia Friedman of the NYPD comes back to her home town to pay her respects to the woman who made her childhood tolerable. But after events start to happen and an old flame starts to ignite, can she handle being back home? Secrets start to reveal, feelings start to come out, and the truth is all that can be heard. A Four Brothers Fanfiction!

Some things just never change, and Detroit is no different. The snow stained streets still smelled like gasoline and dirt while the buildings still looked abandoned and run-down. It felt, just for a moment, like I was seventeen again, driving through the city; oh the memories. As much as it felt good to be welcomed back to my hometown, I wished it was under different circumstances. Looking at the time, I realized I was already a little late to the service, causing me to push the gas pedal harder. Most wouldn't expect for me to show, but this wasn't just any old lady that had passed away, this was Evelyn Mercer' the woman who basically raised me. After my mother had passed away when I was the age of seven, my father took it very hard. Because of this, he drowned himself in his work and left me to fend for myself. When Evelyn saw this, she quickly changed that and offered to help take care of me, seeing as I was her neighbor and all. But living with my father was no picnic; the monster that he was.

Finally finding a parking spot, I looked to the cemetery where everyone was huddled together. I started my way toward the crowd, instantly recognizing those I grew up around, I averted my gaze to the ground. It was different seeing them in such a manner; I didn't want to be part of the crowd – partially because I mostly like to mourn alone, but also because I didn't want the Mercer brothers to know I arrived.

I stood away from the crowd, up on a slight hill as I watched while little Jackie stood at the podium, giving his testimony about Evelyn Mercer. In my head I did the math and calculated he'd be about twenty-five now, making me fell old. Little Jackie was always my favorite Mercer, mostly because he was the most troubled, but also because we had shared the same horrific childhood. Although he was the youngest brother and I am six years older than he, we bonded as we grew up. Because of our past, it pained me to watch as Jackie began to cry while at the podium. Playing with the loose change in my coat pocket, I watched as the older Mercer brother, Bobby, helped his sibling. "Thank you all for coming, there will be a reception at Jeremiah's house, you are all welcome to come." It took a few minutes before the crowd began to disperse, but my gaze was held on Detective Green, who was also staring in my direction. I could tell he wasn't surprised to see me, but something puzzled mea bout his partner's stare' I didn't like it.

As I moved my way toward Green, he also began to move in my direction. The wind picked up quite a bit, pulling my auburn hair in all directions. Moving a piece of my hair behind my ear, I put on a fake smile as Green approached me. "Well look who it is; I never thought I'd see you again," Green greeted, pulling me into a tight hug. "It's nice to see you Detective." Raising a brow, I looked toward Greene, confused. "Do you really think I wouldn't check up on you every now and then?" Stuffing my hands back into my pockets, I smiled.

"You know Green that can be considered stalking." He smiled and looked to his partner.

"Oh I'm sorry; this is my partner Detective Inspector Fowler. Fowler, this is Special Victims Detective Olivia Friedman." Shaking hands with Fowler, I still didn't get such a great vibe off him, so I kept my shake short and simple. "How long you going be in town?" Looking back to Green, I shrugged.

"Because I accumulated so many vacation days, I took two weeks off at the station."

"I still can't believe you, out of all people, made it to be a detective."

"I wanted a new life," I responded. "And I knew I wasn't going to get that in Detroit."

"So you moved all the way to New York?"

"Green, I think you need a new hobby." And with that, I turned on my heel and started toward my car. I didn't like the fact that he knew so much about my new life; whether or not he was just 'checking up on me', he shouldn't be digging. Getting to my black '07 Nissan Acura, I quickly took a glance around me. Looking into the same deep brown eyes I used to love, all I could do was stare back. Before he could make a move toward me, I entered my vehicle and started off. Passing him, I knew he was irritated with my actions, but could he blame me? The last time we talked, we didn't really leave things at a great place.

After a long and hard day at work, it felt like a blessing to finally be home again. I knew Bobby would be waiting inside with dinner waiting in the microwave while he'd be doing pull-ups on the bedroom doorframe. And as I opened the door, there he was – his toned body being pulled up, only making every muscle in his body pop out. With a small smile I walk over to the kitchen, setting down my purse. Looking to the microwave, I noticed nothing was in there. "Uh, where's my food?" I asked, quite confused. It was as if he didn't hear me, just continued to work. "Bobby!" Finally he stopped and dropped to his feet. Turning, he looked toward me and smiled. "My food?"

"Oh right, I forgot." Rolling my eyes, I walked in the bedroom, walking passed him without a kiss. "I'm sorry, damn." I started undressing, slipping myself into my pajamas. In doing so, Bobby made his way over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Pulling away from him, I made my way to the kitchen to fix myself something to eat before going to bed. Bobby followed, irritation looming in the air. "I said I was sorry Livy."

"I spend over twelve hours a day working my ass of trying to make ends meet for us to keep this apartment, the car, food on the table, while you sit on your ass and do nothing all day. The only thing I ask is if there would be food done, a clean house and a perfect escape from my job every day. And what do I get? Food hasn't been made for two weeks, this place looks like a tornado hit twice after a stampede of elephants destroyed it and it's hard to turn your head away from the TV set."

"So I haven't done a few chores, sue me." I could tell he was pretty pissed off now, but he was keeping it under control.

"No Bobby, it's not just a few chores. You've gotten too comfortable with me holding this place down on my own while you're doing only God knows what. After you got fired you promised me you'd look for another job."

"I've been looking," he interrupted, only pissing me off even more.

"The classified aren't behind your eyelids, Bobby!" My voice was raised and I dropped everything I was doing. "For a whole month you've been feeding me the same fucking bullshit every day about you finding a job and saving me from working my damn ass off just so we have a decent income. Sixteen hours a day, Bobby Mercer, that's how much I work to get us on your feet. I'm fucking tired of this." I stopped, letting my breathing settle down a bit. He had nothing to say, mostly because he knew everything I was saying was the truth. We stood in silence for what seemed like hours until he finally spoke.

"I'm leaving," My face dropped as he turned to pack. This wasn't my intention, my intentions were good; to try and get him motivated to find a job and live his life the way it should. I didn't want him to leave. But because of my hard exterior and my walls quickly rebuilding, I simply nodded.

"Good, I'm tired of supporting your ass and you being under appreciative. I'm not your mother, and if you wanted her, you know exactly where she is." Bobby turned to look at me but kept his mouth shut. While he stuffed his belongings in bags, I quietly made my good seeing as I was still starving, but while the smell of the food filled the kitchen, I began to feel sick.

"I'm leaving my phone here since it's yours." Averting my gaze to Bobby, seeing him with his bags only made me want to cry.

"As well as you should," I said, keeping my composure.

"Have a good life, Olivia." And with that, he walked out the door, closing it behind him. I watched the wooden frame, expecting a knock on the door and for him to be crying back, apologizing and promising he'd change; neither happened.