Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Four Brothers characters. I take credit for Brittany and Brittany only.
Note: Yeah, this chapter is so overdue its not even funny O.o All of my faithful reviewers have probably abandoned me and moved on to authors who keep up with their chapters lol But hopefully I'm better about getting the next few chapters done because I'm almost finished. Just three more chapters to go, and then I can move on to the sequel! Yay sequel! I think the sequel will be pretty nifty. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I wanted to finally give Brittany and Jack a real moment in the spotlight, really show them act like how in love they really are before this story ends. Well, I think thats it. Now go on, read and review!
Chapter Seven: Two Lovebirds
Brittany woke up of her own accord, but she didn't try sitting up right away. She prodded her ribs with her fingertips and was unable to hold back a loud hiss of pain. She hadn't thought to check for breaks last night. Way too much on her mind then. Oh well, nothing for it. She glanced sideways to the floor, and noted that Jack was gone. She could hear voices in the other rooms, telling her that she was the last one to wake up. She was sure Bobby would have something to say about that. But for now it was a good thing. She could tend to her injury quickly without anyone freaking out about it. Especially Jack. He didn't need to see the gigantic bruise she was sure existed on her torso.
"Damn car," she mumbled as she gingerly sat up, her face contorting in a wince. She couldn't blame anyone for her pain, so she decided to blame the car. When the pain had ebbed to a dull ache, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, and repeated the process for standing up.
Taking off the double layer of sweatshirts that she had been wearing for about two days, Brittany glanced at herself in the mirror that hung on the wall. She knew she usually looked a little ragged from staying up with Jack in recording studios or partying with the band mates, but this was a different kind of tired. The bags under her eyes were terribly dark, and her skin was not looking as flawless as it once did. As much as she disliked using makeup, she thought she may have to do something to make herself look a little less like a corpse. With a resolute sigh, she proceeded with the inevitable and lifted up the bottom of her black t-shirt. She grimaced, but it didn't look as bad as she'd feared it might. The impact point was an angry reddish purple, and a large bruise radius surrounded it, already yellowing from time.
"Damn car," she repeated, not able to think of anything else to say, and then she went about covering up the bags under her eyes as much as she could. Brittany peeked at the door to the bedroom, making sure no one was about ready to burst inside, and quickly grabbed a large wad of gauze bandages from her backpack. She stood back in front of the mirror, shed the tee shirt she was wearing, and carefully began wrapping the bandages around her torso. Ideally, this would require two people, but since that was out of the question, she continued the sloppy work, and finished off with an untidy knot. It didn't look that great, but it would at least provide padding while it healed.
Feeling a little better, she sat back down on the bed and grabbed a clean tee shirt from her bag. She was slipping it on when Jack walked into the room. Brittany froze with just the top half of her head poking up through the collar. She gazed up at him, but his eyes were locked on her bandaged ribs, which were still exposed. When his eyes moved up to meet with hers, she finished putting the shirt on. Things were silent for a few moments, and then they heard Angel shout something from the back door.
"Yo, police in the house!"
Forgetting about her wound, Brittany stood up quickly, and paid for it. She grabbed her ribs with an arm, wincing in pain, and Jack rushed to her side. Still neither of them spoke. She just waved him off and then headed for the stairs, knowing he was right behind her. Green and his partner, Fowler, were already in the living room with Bobby and Angel. Brittany almost couldn't hold in her laughter when she saw what Bobby was wearing, it looked like something she had seen Sofi in some morning, but she managed and leaned against the doorway, trying to be careful of her ribs. Jack sidled up next to her, and surprisingly he didn't look like he was worrying about her. He was paying attention to the exchange going on with their brothers and the cops. Brittany didn't know whether to feel good about that or worried, so she copied Jack and focused on what was going on in the living room.
"You know when I'll know you got my hair of a dead body right?" Bobby was saying to Fowler, who had just tried fishing for a confession to the murder of the two shooters last night with a phony hair. Brittany rolled her eyes. Amateur. "When I hear the jail house doors slam behind me, girls."
"Alright," Green said, "Then you tell me what they said. You think these thugs were hired to shoot Evelyn?" Apparently, the cops had found their little crime scene from last night.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Bobby answered casually, running a hand over his hair.
"Green," Angel spoke up, "How do you go from petty thugs, to contract killers? And if they were professional shooters like you say, they wouldn't have told us who they were working for anyway?" Brittany smiled discreetly at the floor. Her brothers were such smart asses.
"You think you're real cute don't you?" Fowler said to Angel, "Yeah, everyone thinks they're cute till I bust them in the mouth." He then started moving towards Angel who was sitting on the couch with Bobby. Green, Jack, and Brittany all rushed forward to get between them. Someone's arm must have collided with Brittany's injured ribs because her side flared with pain and she quickly stepped backward. Thankfully, everyone seemed to occupied with Fowler and Angel to notice. Except Jack, of course. She saw him look over at her, that concern in his eyes that crushed her heart.
Unnoticed, Brittany slipped away from the living room, back up the stairs, and into the bedroom she shared with Jack. She spread out on the bed, exhaling deeply as she gently rubbed her ribs. It wasn't long until Jack joined her, shutting the door behind him. He stood there, staring at her with that hurt look in his eyes. That look that told her how worried he was. It wasn't long after that till she couldn't take it anymore.
"I'm fine, Jack," she said, looking determinedly away from his gaze.
"Tell that to your ribcage," he said flatly, "Why didn't you say anything last night about being hurt?" Brittany sighed and sat up gingerly so she could lean against the wall and look at him properly.
"Well, honestly," she told him, "I was way too tired last night when we got home to care. Look, I examined them this morning and there's nothing broken. I just bruised them a bit." Jack arched and eyebrow at her, but he said nothing. Brittany knew that he couldn't refute that information, because there was no way he could tell. He heaved a sigh and then sat down on the edge of the bed.
"I just worry about you, that's all," he mumbled. Brittany gave a groaning sigh, feeling that tearing feeling in her heart when she saw him so subdued. She slowly and carefully crawled over to him and sat beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"I know you do," she said gently, grabbing one of his hands and wrapping the arm around her waist. Her ribs made no objection, and they just sat like that a while.
Later that night, Brittany, Jack, Bobby, and Angel were all sitting in the living room. Brittany and Jack were curled up on the couch. Bobby and Angel were looking through the wallets they took off the two shooters. Sofi was in the kitchen cooking something. She'd been in there for hours. Whatever it was didn't smell entirely appetizing. Brittany's ribs felt better, making her think that it really was just bad bruising. She didn't want to think about how yellow her skin looked by now. She was watching the hockey game on television, it seemed to be the only thing ever on in the Mercer house, but she was also trying to listen to what her big brothers were talking about. She heard Bobby say something about the waterfront, and Angel agreeing with him.
"Well, let's go take a look." Bobby stood up. Brittany quickly got up from the couch. Jack looked up to see what the commotion was, and then followed Brittany. All four of them made to leave, but they hit an obstacle. Sofi rushed to the living room doorway, standing in front of Angel. She looked pissed.
"Angel, sweetie," she said in an overly sugary voice, "Wasn't there something mentioned about a dinner together? Because I seem to remember spending two hours in the kitchen." Angel seemed to be struggling.
"Baby, we got some heavy shit to deal with." Bobby, of course, had to chime in at this point which sent Sofi into a fit, and the two of them began yelling at each other. The three, Brittany, Jack, and Bobby, finally had to leave Angel to deal with his girl while they took care of business.
It didn't take long to get to the waterfront house. The brown paint was peeling from the house, making it look like a snake shedding its skin. Some of the windows had been knocked out, probably by rock projectiles, and had been repaired by a garbage bag taped up on the inside. Without a car, the Mercers had to there, and it was still freezing outside. Bobby entered the house first, his gun out and at the ready. Brittany and Jack stood at the end of the walkway, arms around each other for warmth, waiting for the "all clear" sign. When Bobby gave it to them they all crept around the back of the house. Brittany stepped up to the back door and took a bobby pin from her pocket. Lock picking had always been a specialty of hers. Just a few seconds later the door was open and they entered a small laundry room.
"Eww," Brittany said as she walked into the main part of the house. The sound broke the silence so suddenly that both Jack and Bobby leaped into the air and turned around. Brittany looked at them, embarrassed as she scraped what looked like animal feces from the bottom of her shoe. She mouthed 'Sorry' and they continued on.
"You two take the living room," Bobby instructed when they got to the kitchen doorway, "I'll check the bedrooms. Grab, anything that you think might be helpful, just be careful. God knows what these scumbags have lying around." The living room was directly in front of them, so Bobby headed off to the left. As though as an afterthought he looked back over his shoulder at them. "No screwing around." Then he disappeared into the other room. Brittany rolled her eyes.
She and Jack spent a few minutes scouring the living room. Jack looked in the drawers, Brittany poked around under the cushions of the couch. Somehow during the search the two managed to back into each other as they worked their way around the room. Jack jumped a little, and Brittany hissed in pain from her ribs, though the pain wasn't as bad as it had been that morning. Jack spun around quick as lightning and stared alarmingly at her. Her face was still screwed up in a wince, but she raised one hand to wave like 'I'm alright'. Jack paid the gesture no heed, however, as he gently wrapped his arms around her in a loose embrace. The pain slowly went away and Brittany looked up into those beautiful blue eyes that were so filled with concern.
"I said I was OK, Jack," she said quietly.
"You always say that," he replied just as softly, not removing his arms from around her. She noticed a lock of his hair had fallen out of its carefully positioned spot on his head and brushed it back with one of her hands. Their eyes locked again, and once more Brittany was struck by the absolute power those azure eyes had.
Before she even realized it, she and Jack were kissing, arms wrapped tightly around each other, Brittany not even noticing that her ribs were protesting the sudden contact with Jack's body. She could only remember a handful of times they had ever kissed like this. They had never been a normal couple in that aspect, or in many aspects. They just simply loved each other and left it at that. Unless they were drunk. Now here they were, completely sober, standing in the living room of the two men who had shot their mother and they were kissing each other. They were kissing each other and enjoying every moment of it. Then, of course, in true Mercer fashion, Bobby walked back into the living room, a large bag in one hand now.
"What the hell do you two think you're doing?" he asked sharply, though not as cruel as he could have sounded. Brittany and Jack sprung apart like they were on far and stared at him wide-eyed. Bobby shook his head. "Did you lovebirds at least find anything while you were fucking around?" The truth was they hadn't, but thankfully for them, Jack spotted something on the side table they had overlooked next to the couch. He snatched it up and held it out to Bobby.
"Look a camera," he said brightly. Bobby grudgingly grabbed it and led the way out of house, mumbling inaudible curses under his breath. Brittany and Jack followed him, they're hands clasped together, both smiling widely.
To both Brittany and Jack's great relief, Bobby kept his mouth shut the entire ride home and let them trudge up to their room without a word about what had happened. She wondered if there was something wrong with him. Other than the obvious, of course. She and Jack, still grinning from ear-to-ear whenever they looked at each other, curled up with the sleeping bags on the floor and fell into a peaceful sleep, perhaps the first real peaceful sleep they had gotten since arriving for the funeral. Before she closed her eyes, however, Brittany wondered momentarily where this dangerous journey into the investigation of their mother's death would take them next. Two men had already been killed. How many more people in this town would be added to that list?
Waking up the next morning, Brittany felt better than she'd felt since arriving home. It was still early according to the clock on the wall. She was probably the first one awake, so she decided she would make Jack breakfast. She groaned, not unhappily, and stretched her arms above her head, smiling through a yawn. She had dreamt of Jack and the kiss they had shared the previous night, as though the scene had been playing on a loop in her head. Still smiling, she reached beside her where Jack has slept next to her on the floor and felt her hand sink into the empty blankets. Her brown eyes, which had only been slits open to the world since she woke up, shot open in a wild stare. Sitting bolt upright, Brittany ignored the dull ache in her ribs, which were still sore, and looked alarmingly around. She became suddenly aware that not only were the blankets empty, but she was completely alone in the room. A brief memory of the dream she had had the night after the funeral surfaced in her mind and all logic was lost.
"Jack!" she called as she scrambled out of her blankets, though not as loudly as her voice would have been if she wasn't so suddenly frightened. She sprinted out the door and down the hall so fast she didn't even register that it still dark outside, and she only wearing a t-shirt and her underwear.
"Jack!" A little louder this time as Brittany went through the doorway of the living room. The television was on. A middle-aged man droned on about the local news, and she felt her throat close up. She stopped in front of the couch, trying hard to swallow the lump in throat. The feeling of panic was quickly rising in his chest, causing her skin to tingle and her breath to stop short in her chest.
"Jack!" she called for the third time, her voice no more than a strangled cry now. She felt like she was watching everything in slow motion. The news anchor's lips definitely didn't look like they were moving as fast and she thought they should be. The pendulum on the nearby clock seemed to be swinging at a more sluggish pace than normal, and she was aware of a more than usual pause between her breaths. It was like be body was shutting in on her and she was drowning in herself.
"Brittany?" Still in slow motion, Brittany lifted her head at the voice, and she would never be able to describe the almost painful feeling of relief that swept over her body in one massive wave as she saw her messy-haired Jack standing in the doorway leading from the living room to the kitchen. She couldn't even say anything, she just placed her hands over her mouth, closed to her eyes, and sank down into the comfort of the couch, letting the effects of the adrenaline slowly work itself out of her body. It was mere seconds before she felt Jack sit beside her. At least her sense of time was back to normal.
"Are you okay?" he asked his voice heavy with concern. The question seemed suddenly absurd to Brittany, and in spite of the terrible emotions she had been through in less than a minute, a smile turned up the corners of her lips and she breathed a single laugh into her cupped hands.
"I thought you were gone," she said quietly, as though she didn't believe the thought had crossed her mind, "It thought you were gone." She breathed laughter again, leaned back against the couch, groaning and moving her hands to cover her entire face as the last traces of the panic attack left her and she realized she could breathe easily again.
"You thought I was gone?" Jack asked, as though he didn't believe it either, "Was it a dream?" Now that was a good question, and Brittany took a moment to ponder it's answer. Had it been a dream? Or had something deep down in her gut told her that Jack had really been gone?
"Yeah," she answered, "Yeah, it was a dream." She said it without really believing it, but not knowing what to believe otherwise. She let her hands drop into her lap and turned to look into Jack's still worried face. She reached one of her hands up and let it rest against his cheek, feeling the warm flesh beneath her palm and finally feeling as normal as was possible these days. She broke into a grin, and was please to see him grin back. For a long moment they gazed lovingly at each other, and then they leaned forward. Brittany was so ready to kiss him she was shocked when she realized it. Almost there...
"What the hell is going on down here?" said what could only be the very groggy voice of Bobby from the stairs. Both Jack and Brittany pulled their heads back quickly, looking out of the living room to where their brother stood peering blearily at them from the steps.
"Nothing, Bobby," Brittany replied calmly, "I just had a bad dream is all." She supposed that would have to be the truth as far as anyone, even herself, was concerned. There would be no explaining what she had really experience, since she didn't even know. Bobby managed to look a little concerned through his fatigue.
"You alright?" he asked gently. She nodded and he looked to have seen it, even though she was sure his vision was slightly compromised at the moment. "Okay, well, you two get back to bed. We got stuff to do tomorrow." Brittany nodded again, and Bobby ascended back up the stairs. She looked over at Jack and they both stood up from the couch, wordlessly walking over to the stairs and climbing back up to the room they shared.
With the door shut behind them, and still without a word spoken between them, they shared the kiss that was interrupted moments earlier. It was softer, more tender than the wild kiss from the living room at the waterfront. Together they padded the floor with blankets and their sleeping bags, wearily crawling into bed. As they curled up together Brittany wrapped her arms securely, but comfortably, around Jack as they both drifted off into sleep. A thought occurred to her just as she was slipping into slumber land.
"Jack, what were you doing in the kitchen?" she mumbled, almost incoherently, but Jack was already asleep, and soon she forgot she had even spoke, and then was fast asleep next to him.