Title: Distorted Eyes

Fandom: Four Brothers

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Blah blah, not mine. Yes, this isn't a very professional disclaimer. How about; all Character mentioned in this story belong to their respected writers. This piece of fiction is in now way connected to the movie or the actors or makers of said movie. Like I said, blah blah blah.

Summary: He hated dirt. And all the people that littered the floor were dirt… except for one.

Bobby's face rolled into a sneer as he pushed the unlocked door open into the drug house. The smell invaded his nose full force leaving him with his stomach clenching tightly. He hated the smell that seemed to come with every drug house he had ever been in. Dirty and unclean. It smelt as if mold had fixed it self on every surface; as if the blankets that bodies laid under hadn't been washed since they were first bought, the bodies laying under them having forgotten to bathe in their drugged stupor not helping. He felt as if had he dared to touch anything his fingers would slide away with grime and grease only succeeding in making his stomach tighten even more in disgust.

He hated dirt.

And all the people that littered the floor were dirt… except for one. His eyes scanned the heads that were seeable from under the blankets for the unruly brown hair that was Jackie's signature. It was always what Bobby looked for first; he could spot it a mile away.

Except he wasn't here; in the living room at least.

He climbed over the bodies, not caring if he i accidentally /i kicked any of them. Maybe they'd go back to their homes instead of wasting their lives on their empty releases. That's why he was here to get Jack… he was tired of seeing the boy throw it away when he indeed had a home to go back to, unlike some of the unlucky few here… the ones who looked just a tad bit more dirty than the others. He was actually careful not the kick or step on those ones because in the back of his mind he felt sympathy for them because he had lived on the streets before but never would he admit this pity or that twinge in his heart that let him know he wanted to help them, out loud. He'd keep that to himself because he was only here to help one person not all of them, not that he could help any of them had the need been more than just a twinge, more like a pull; he kept it to himself because along with the sympathy and pity was disgust. He had helped himself, he had taken care of himself which these people seemed incapable of and they looked – most of them anyways – older than he had been when he had taken to the streets for the first time.

He refused to think that some people just weren't him, weren't as strong as him as Jackie put plainly before walking out the door only a few nights ago demanding that Bobby or anyone not come looking for him because they wouldn't find him.

Yet he had. Bobby always found what he was looking for and he refused to let his i brother /i just walk out on the only good thing in his life. And in Bobby's eyes Ma was the only good thing that had ever happened to any of them despite the protest that Jack would give, hinting towards his drugs and maybe towards memories of his childhood before he was so dutifully abandoned.

If parents abandoned their child then despite any happy memories they were nothing but dirt. And yet again, Bobby hated dirt.

He fought the urge to slam the door to a bedroom open and instead just slid it open, touching it as little as he could, dark prints from dirty hands and un-cleaned walls lining the door knob and the door frame where in their hazes people had fallen against.

Bobby was starting to hate this place.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw three people laying in a bed, wrapped tightly around each other and his eyes instantly spotted the brown hair sticking out in the middle of it. A girl who was too skinny to be anything but an addict laid on one side of the boy and a man who looked like he might be able to put Bobby up for his money in a fight on the other side and this somehow angered Bobby that this i man /i had his arms wrapped tightly around Jackie's bare waist as if Jackie belonged to him.

And a growl escaped his lips but it no one stirred at the sound and his mind wrapped around the fact that this room seemed cleaner than the rest of the house and Bobby's eyebrows furrowed as he looked around it knowing instantly that this was where the owner stayed, the one who supplied and housed the pathetic excuses of addicts. Which Jack was slowly becoming. His eyes trailed the thin form in the middle, noting that he would make the small boy eat more once they got back to the house because really, no man should be that thin that they looked almost feminine. His eyes scanned the old scars that lined the defined chest, scars that they held in common but came from different people.

Abuse would never be forgotten. Never, physically marks only left it that much clearer.

He rolled his eyes as the blanket covered the lower half of Jackie's body; at least he could see black boxers underneath the thin white sheet. "Jackie, wake up!" He barked, already dismissing the man who might be able to put a fight up against him. He wouldn't be able to though. Bobby new, with a wide smug look, that not many people could even bruise him anymore.

He watched in amusement as Jack jerked awake, his whole body jumping upwards into a sitting position and the two people beside him moaned before turning and cuddling up to a pillow instead. The amusement didn't leave his eyes as he watched Jackie glare at him before the small, brown haired, boy shook his head in annoyance at the fact that Bobby had indeed found him. "We're going princess, get your ass up and dressed."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack mumbled, rolling his eyes once more before carefully climbing off of the bed, grabbing a bag of something before pulling his pants on

--

It was some God forbidden time in the morning the next night when Bobby was awakened to the sound of his bedroom door opening. He had always been a light sleeper, it was a part of survival in the system.

Any system.

His eyes locked on the thin form that gracefully made it's way towards him, climbing onto the bed next to him. Cold hands moved to rest on his face only to jerk away but that didn't stop the onslaught that was coming as he felt the chapped lips push against his

He sat in shock as he felt the delicate lips move against his, kissing him softly before a warm tongue touch his lips and he jerked away once more, "Jack," He hissed putting his hands onto the thin shoulders and pushing him away, almost off of the bed.

'Hmm?" Was the only response he received before he felt the body move back towards him, hands moving to rest on his waist causing Bobby to scoot against the wall to escape the lips that were coming for him.

"What the hell are you doing, fairy? Go back to your own damn bed." He hissed, his hands moving to grip the way too thin wrist and pull them away from his waist, fingers having slipped under the waistband of Bobby's boxers.

"No one's there," he heard Jackie whisper and he shivered as the warm breath hit his neck the slur so evident in his voice that it actually tore at Bobby's heart and that was no small feat in it's self. Bobby didn't have a heart if you hadn't heard.

He felt a wrist be yanked from his grip with more strength than he had been aware that the small boy owned and before he could stop it he felt it pressing against him, rubbing his crotch and eliciting a moan from him. He couldn't help it, if someone was rubbing your dick in such a perfect way you'd moan to.

"Jack, stop," He said; he didn't hiss or bark, he said it softly, not wanting to scare him now that he was sure the boy was on something. The last thing he needed was to have to chase after the boy at this time of the night and Jackie was in no state of mind to be running out in the middle of the night either.

He felt the motions stop but the hand didn't leave and the body didn't move to get off of his bed, instead it collapsed next to him, making the bed shake in a noisily fashion that grated at Bobby's ears, making his jaw clench for some unknown reason because he wasn't one to get aggravated with sounds and he knew that right now he wasn't annoyed at Jack for his behavior, maybe in the morning but right now he was worried as he heard the soft sobs.

i Bad hit /i rang through his head and his stomach twisted because he had only made it worse apparently. His arms wrapped around the quivering form, pulling him tight and he heard and felt as Jack's voice rang out between the tears twisting Bobby's heart only farther, "I'm sorry… I just wanted… w-wanted to help you out. Help you our 'cuz you actually came and got me… t-to thank you."

The words were so slurred that half of them were guesses in Bobby's mind; blank until his mind wrapped around the parts of the words that came out understandable and efficiently finished the words of his little brother.

His little brother who was, just as plain as all the others, an addict in every sense of the word wanted to thank him with the only thing he believed he had.

Bobby hated dirt but he loved Jackie even if in his ramblings through out the night he tried to convince Bobby that he was indeed dirt like everyone else.

Tomorrow there would be hell to pay on Jackie's part. Tomorrow he'd get a beaten of a life time from his older, new big brother. Tomorrow Bobby would lock him in a closet – even if he dreaded even the idea of it, the mere thought of locking anyone in a closet bringing back memories he liked to shove aside – and force him off the drugs. Tomorrow Bobby would show what a real big brother did to their asses of little brothers when they got in to something too deep.

But tonight he would hold him and comfort him; whispering soft words of comfort and encouragement, soft words of love and belongingness. Bobby told himself this wasn't because he cared just a bit too much than he should about the thin boy but because he knew that Jackie needed to know that someone was there when tomorrow came.

He told himself that Jackie was nothing more than his fairy of a brother but the mind never readily accepts lies, now does it?

The End

A/n: Inspired by Newtoyou shrugs I i was /i trying to do a whole little short, drabble thing and that's what the inspiration thing is but nooooo, can I write any short drabbles? No, this thing was 1856 words and I was looking for, oh, less than a thousand. I wanted a short useless drabble/scene but no. It goes to be 4 pages. The idea wouldn't let me sleep (Mainly the drug house scene and the second part).

I apologize for any mistakes, typo's, misused words, etc because I started writing this an hour ago and it's now 6:50 in the morning and I haven't slept and I'm just plain out too lazy to read over it.

Keep in mind I have never ever ever been in a drug house and I'm sure there's not people littered on the floor of most of them but shush you.

Slight touches of Bobby angst o.o weirdness. Pfft, I didn't get inside Jackie's mind like I wanted to but I seemed to touch at Bobby's…. hate on dirt lmao.