Title: Vulnerable
Summary: After suffering a brutal attack, Jack is left alone in a dark alley.
Warnings: language, mentions of violence

Author's Note: I'm not sure if the first chapter is confusing or not, because no one else has read it besides me. I thought I would let everyone know that I intentionally wrote what was happening very vague because Jack is so disoriented. You'll find out more of what happened as the story goes on. Sorry the first chapter is a little short! Oh, yeah, and Jack is 18 in this story.

Disclaimer: UnfortunatleyI don't own Four Brothers, except for the DVD : D

Vulnerable

Jack slid down to the filthy ground, no longer able to hold himself up. Feelings of complete degradation and humiliation rose thickly in his stomach, partially exiting his body in a pile of vomit that stained the concrete to his side. He rested his back against the cool brick of an abandoned building and pulled his knees close to his chest, wanting to disappear.

A somewhat familiar feeling of emptiness filled his body as all the pain he had held in during his attack fell from his eyes in steady streams of tears. He wanted to scream, to yell and run until he couldn't do it anymore, but his physical state was preventing him from doing much of anything more than sitting and crying.

Every breath caused an excruciatingly sharp pain in his chest. His head was pounding from multiple blows to the head and he could barely see out of his swollen right eye. His arms and thighs were badly bruised from the forceful restraints placed on him, and his face still stung from where he ripped off the duck tape from his mouth.

To say the least, he was in pretty bad shape.

He looked around, taking in his surroundings for what seemed like the first time. The back alleyway in which he sat was dimly lit, making it hard to accurately make out the shadows that moved around in the darkness. Failing to find any symbols to let him know where he was, Jack closed his eyes in defeat.

No one would ever find him in here.

"Fuck," he softly muttered aloud. This wasn't good. In fact, he couldn't think of anything that could make this situation even worse.

He gently maneuvered his hands through his jean pockets, but found nothing. They had taken his wallet too, but now that he thought about it, his wallet wouldn't have done much good. Even if he did have money for a pay phone, there was no way he would be able to get off the ground to go look for one.

He was officially fucked.

Shivering as the cold of the night seemed to settle in his bones, he pulled his torn sweatshirt tightly around his body and noticed how bloody it was.

There was no way all of that could be his...

Jack tried to focus on the cause of the loss of blood, but it was becoming harder and harder to focus. The pounding in his head increase and he blinked his eyes rapidly in an attempt to clear his blurring vision that marked his slip into unconsciousness.

He could hear the footsteps behind him, but refused to turn around. He couldn't show them the fear that unmistakably flashed behind his bright blue eyes.

The steps behind him quickened and he felt two pairs of hands grab him, one set immediately slamming a piece of duck tape over his mouth, the other painfully tying his hands behind his back.

Jack's eyes flew open abruptly, the bleeding from his hidden wound worsening with each passing moment.

"Oh God..." he whispered. "I'm going to die here..."

: D