A/N: Hey guys! Here is my attempt at a chaptered Four Brothers story. Another attempt anyway. Hope you like it. Please review when you're done! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own Four Brothers or anything else I may have mentioned in this story that did not come from my own mind.

Thanks to: My cousin. Not a Four Brothers lover like I am. But she helped me with some of the character names and some of the details. So thanks to her, you know who you are.

Note: I'm not sure of the exact ages and age difference so I just put the brothers as four years apart. Also, I didn't know what bands Jack would like so I went with what popped into my head lol.

…

Chapter One:

Colorado, 1992

Bobby Mercer sat on the ground with his back against the cold alley wall. The events of the past week were running through his mind and while he was glad it was over, he couldn't get rid of the feeling in his stomach that told him he had made a grave mistake. When he was given the job, his instincts screamed at him not to do it. But he had no choice. If Bobby had learned anything in his 21 years it was that you needed to do whatever you had to in order to survive. But in doing whatever was needed to survive didn't always mean doing the right thing.

Hearing his name being screamed in the distance made him jump to his feet.

"Bobby! Bobby!"

Looking down the dimly lit alley behind the bar he spent many nights in, he saw a figure coming towards him. As the figure got closer and closer, he recognized who it was and he let his hand drop from the gun tucked into the back of his jeans.

"What the fuck happened?" Bobby asked his friend upon seeing the utter shock and grief on his face.

"It's Sid, man," the shorter boy choked out between sobs. "He's gone, Bobby, he's gone!"

The feeling in his stomach turned into a knot and for a brief moment, Bobby felt like he was going to be sick. But he pushed it down. He couldn't possibly be responsible for this. He would have noticed Sid and he would have told the kid to get the fuck out of there.

No, no, it couldn't be possible. Sid wouldn't….

But then Bobby remembered something that made him want to be sick again. It was less than half an hour ago and he was beyond exhausted. He just wanted to get it over with and by that time, he didn't even look at the teenagers and other customers that approached him. At the time, he didn't pay any attention to the five boys that were his last customers. All he wanted to do was get out of there and finally get a chance to go back home. Thinking back now, he remembered seeing a short kid with a grey hoodie standing with the other four boys. His face was covered by his hood but Bobby noticed his yellow shoes and thought himself that a kid wearing something like in this neighbourhood was sure to get beat up.

The transaction took a few minutes and the group of boys disappeared around the corner. Bobby didn't give them a second thought. He wished he would have now.

"They found drugs on him and they said he OD," the boy, who was now on his knees, said. He was crying and his words were coming out in a jumble. "Drugs on him. Sid would never. Sid was smart. Sid is dead. Drugs."

Bobby grabbed his friend by the shoulders and pulled him up so they were almost eye to eye. He shook him a few times to get him to stop.

"What was Sid wearing?" he demanded frantically.

"What—what are you talking ab—"

"What was he wearing?" Bobby shook him again; hard. The other boy finally stopped and focused for a few seconds.

"I—he was wearing a grey sweater and-yellow-converse—"

Bobby gasped involuntarily and let go of his friend at once. Realization came rushing at him and the force of it made him turn and be sick in an old crate. When he was done, he once again met the eyes of his grieving friend. But grief was no longer there; it had been replaced by anger. Bobby's reaction had given him away.

"You did this to him?" the shorter of the two demanded. "You gave him that shit?"

Bobby shook his head; all words in his vocabulary failing him. His friend came towards him with his arms outstretched, ready to attack. So Bobby Mercer did the only thing he could. He turned and ran as fast as he could.

He ran all the way home. But the last words he heard were ones that would never stop haunting him.

"I WILL GET YOU FOR THIS BOBBY MERCER!"

…

Detroit, 2000

It was good to be home.

When a person has been away from home for a long amount of time, they tend to forget how comforting the sights and sound of a familiar place can be. While they're gone, they won't be homesick. In fact, they'd probably never even think of home that often; wrapped up in the things that took them away in the first place. But when one finally returns home, the sense of joy and familiarity that washes over them can never be replicated. To know that you are home is to know that you are happy.

And Bobby Mercer was happy to be home. The seven months spent sleeping in random motels and eating questionable diner food three times a day everyday had gotten old fast. All that was on his mind then was eating a home-cooked meal and sleeping in his own bed. And of course, seeing his family.

Sure, he had kept in touch while he was away but talking on the phone wasn't as good as seeing someone. Home was definitely where he wanted to be at the moment.

A few minutes later Bobby was parking his old, sputtering brown car at the curb in front the house he was glad to call home. Turning off the car quickly, Bobby exited the car and grabbed his worn-out duffle bag from the trunk. It was black and had many patched up holes and he gave himself a mental note to get a new one. He walked up the steps and tried the doorknob, not surprised that the door was unlocked.

"Angel," he muttered to himself.

Angel couldn't remember to lock the door to save his life! Bobby threw his bag near the stairs and hung his jacket on the coat rack. He accidently made Jack's leather jacket fall and he left it there, snickering to himself. The little fairy would just have to get over it. Poking his head into the living room, he was greeted with silence. The room hadn't changed much—magazines on the table, TV in the corner and a glass that someone had left behind.

But no family.

"Where the hell is everyone?" he muttered to himself, beginning to get a little discouraged. He comes home after being gone for half a year and there's no one to greet him!

"Jack, get your ass in here and do the fucking dishes!" came a voice from the kitchen. Bobby immediately recognized it as Angel's.

Bobby walked silently through the living room and stopped in the kitchen doorway. Angel was at the sink, looking at the pile of dirty dishes that was stacked there. He had his hands on his hips and Bobby couldn't help but laugh. Looking around from where he stood, he eyed a tennis ball that someone had left laying around—probably from a round of indoor hockey-and he grabbed it. With a chuckle, he threw it at Angel, knocking him square in the back of the head.

"What the—"Angel began, turning around. He stopped when he saw Bobby and his eyes went wide for a moment.

"What's the matter?" Bobby said, laughing. "No hug for your big brother?"

Angel laughed along with him and hugged Bobby. After they broke apart, he shook his head at his brother and smirked.

"You always show up like this, Bobby," he said, shaking his head again but chuckling as he did. "Never calls just shows up!"

"The fuck do I need to call for?" Bobby asked, grabbing a beer from the fridge and sitting down at the kitchen table. He twisted off the cap and gulped down half the bottle. He wiped his mouth and looked around. "Where's everyone?"

"Ma had some meeting at work," Angel said, leaning against the wall. "Jer is with Camille. You know they are getting married right?"

"Yeah," Bobby said, nodding his head. "Jerry called me after he proposed. Told me I gotta wear a fuckin' suit!" A laugh followed by a few seconds of silence passed between then. "And how about your little sister?"

Angel scowled at the mention of Jack and nodded his head towards the back door. Bobby lifted himself from his seat and looked out the window. Sure enough, he saw his younger brother sitting on the back steps smoking a cigarette and looking surly as usual. Bobby rolled his eyes at Jack's choice of attire. He sat back down and took another swig of beer.

"It's fucking September," Bobby said, throwing his empty beer bottle at the garbage can and getting it in. "Why the fuck is he out there in just a fucking t-shirt?" He stopped Angel before he could sit down. "Get me another beer."

Angel shrugged his shoulders and his got Bobby and himself a beer. Sitting down at the table, he shrugged again.

"You know him," Angel said, clinking his beer against Bobby's and then taking a long drink. "Stubborn. I fucking hate teenagers."

Bobby grinned. "You know, Ang, you were a teenager just last year…."

"Fuck off, Bobby," Angel replied. He turned to look out the window at Jack for a second. "I'm telling you, Bobby. The kid's a stubborn, moody little shit." He turned back around and had another swig of beer. "I told him to come and fucking clean the dishes five fucking times already."

"What else is new?" Bobby said with a roll of his eyes. A smile then appeared on his face. "Let me go get him."

Bobby rose from the table and headed for the back door, beer bottle in hand. Slowly, so as to not catch Jack's attention, he opened the door and stepped onto the small back porch. He half wanted to laugh and half wanted to shake his head at his younger brother. Jack, clad in only a t-shirt, was smoking and staring out into the open air in front of him. From where Bobby stood, he couldn't see Jack's face but he imagined the little fairy looked zoned out as he usually did; lost in his own world.

Holding back a laugh, Bobby held the beer bottle over the unsuspecting Jack's head and tipped it over. The remaining contents from the bottle spilled all over Jack and he jumped up suddenly.

"Angel—what the fuck? I said I was coming—"

He stopped when he realized that it wasn't Angel standing there. His eyes did the same "wide with surprise" thing that Angel's had. And then he just stood there for a few seconds, looking dumbfounded.

"Bobby?" he said finally, wiping the beer from his face and shaking his head to get it out of his hair.

"That's right," Bobby said, pulling Jack into a hug. When they parted, he said, "Shocked to see me, you little fairy?"

Jack scowled at the name. He hated when Bobby started the name-calling. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh get over it," Bobby said, ruffling his brother's hair. "Don't make me lock you out here."

Jack shook his head but finally cracked a small grin. He was happy to have Bobby home again. To him, it didn't seem like the family was complete when one of his brothers were gone. He threw his now wet cigarette down on the ground and joined Bobby on the small little porch area. Bobby looked at Jack with his eye-brows raised and whistled.

"Shit, Jackie, when did you get so fucking tall?"

Jack shrugged. "One day I woke up tall."

Bobby snorted and clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder. His little brother was definitely a man of few words. "I could still kick your ass, though," Bobby said. When Jack just shrugged, Bobby added, "Come on, let's go inside."

"So you're home now," Jack said, a thoughtful expression on his face. Bobby stopped to look at him.

"Yeah that's right," he said. "I'm home now."

Jack nodded. Silence passed between them for a second. "Does that mean you'll do the dishes now?" A smirk appeared on his face as he said it.

"Get your fairy ass in there and wash the dishes!"

Bobby laughed and pushed his brother into the house. With a sigh and a smile, he walked into the house and closed the door behind him.

Yeah. It was definitely good to be home.

…

Bobby finished flipping through the channels for a third time before coming to the conclusion that nothing good was on TV. He left it on some random reality show and threw the remote towards the table. It bounced off the edge and fell onto the floor. After realizing there was no more beer left in his bottle, he groaned in frustration.

He thought he'd at least have one person to talk to but everyone had gone their separate ways. Angel claimed he had important business to take care of. Bobby knew he was going out with Sofi and only lied about it to escape being made fun of. Jerry showed up for all of about five minutes before rushing off to continue planning his dream wedding with his bride to be. He was surprised and genuinely happy to see Bobby but his having to leave didn't warrant for a good catching up conversation. Jack went to his room after washing the dishes like a pissy little girl, claiming he "had stuff to do."

So, in short, Bobby was fucking bored out of his mind.

He picked up the beer bottle again; hoping beer had magically materialized out of nowhere. He knew there was a whole other six pack in the fridge; he was just too lazy to get up and get it.

The sound of the front door opening made him perk up and he was thrilled at the thought of someone; anyone being there to keep him company. God, he thought, I've gotta get a fucking life.

Making his way to the front door, he inadvertently bumped into the person who had just walked through it. Evelyn Mercer jumped, not having seen him there, and almost dropped the bag of groceries she was holding. She put her hand over her heart.

"Bobby?" she exclaimed, happiness filling her features. "What are you doing here?"

Bobby chuckled and took the bag from her. "Boy, I seem to be getting a loving reception tonight."

"I'm sorry, honey," she said with a laugh. She hung up her pale blue coat and walked over to hug him. Pulling away, she smiled up at him. "It's good to have you home, Bobby." She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen with the groceries.

Bobby set the brown paper bag onto the counter and began taking the items out. He looked down at the various fruit and vegetable items with disdain. "Don't you buy cookies anymore, Ma?"

"It doesn't hurt to eat healthy," Evelyn replied. Off Bobby's look, she laughed and took pity on him. "Third shelf in the cupboard," she said as she began putting the food away. After contenting himself with a box of cookies, Bobby sat at the table. Evelyn turned to look at him. "How long are you planning on staying this time, Bobby?"

Bobby shrugged and stuffed another cookie into his mouth. "Don't know. Two weeks, maybe a little more."

Evelyn nodded at this but then a look of concern crossed her face when she saw the cut over Bobby's eye. She rushed over to him quickly and looked at it, touching it as gently as only a mother could. Bobby moved his head out of her grasp, giving her a little chuckle.

"Ma, it's fine," he said. "Hockey's a rough sport."

"I worry is all," Evelyn replied, going back to the groceries after he assured her he was completely fine.

"Well, don't!" Bobby said. "I can take of myself!" He stood and threw the now empty cookie box into the garbage. "How's everything been here?"

"Everything's fine, Bobby," Evelyn said, closing the fridge. She leaned against the counter next to him. "Your brothers are doing good for themselves."

"Jack?"

"He's okay, honey," Evelyn replied, giving Bobby a reassuring look. Bobby always looked out for Jack and even though he wouldn't admit it, he worried about him. "He starts school tomorrow."

Bobby scoffed and shook his head. "That explains his mood, then." After a few seconds of silence, he pushed away from the counter. "I think I'll go have a talk with the fairy."

"Bobby…." Evelyn's tone was playfully scolding.

"Don't worry, Ma," Bobby assured with his all too familiar grin. "I won't ruffle his feathers….too much."

Evelyn watched as he made his way upstairs with a smile. She was glad to have all her sons home and safe. It was all a mother could ask for.

Bobby didn't bother knocking on Jack's door. He threw it open like usual and walked in. He couldn't help but make a face when he saw the state of the room. Clothes were all over the floor, the bed spread was half off the bed and there was a collection of glasses on the dresser; some empty and some half-full and one that looked so disgusting it might as well had something growing out of it. Bobby shook his head.

Typical Jack.

But Jack wasn't in the room. The window was open and Bobby wondered for a second if Jack pulled his climbing out of the window shit again. Bobby never understood why the kid couldn't use the front door like a normal person. It's not like it was late and he had to sneak out. But he heard a door open from behind him and a few seconds later, Jack walked past him and sat on his bed. He didn't say anything but rather raised his eye-brows in a way that said "Can I help you with something?"

"Oh come on, Jackie," Bobby said, sitting on the edge of his brother's bed. "Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Of course I am, Bobby," Jack said. "I'm just…." He trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"All right, that's it," Bobby said, giving Jack's shoulder a little shove. "No more fucking princess of the dark moodiness shit. What's your problem? Is starting school really that fucking scary?"

Jack scoffed at that and shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's stupid, anyway."

Bobby rolled his eyes. He forgot how much he hated this. Getting Jack to talk sometimes was like pulling teeth. And he would start pulling teeth if Jack didn't just come out with it.

"Well?"

"Some car was following me today," Jack said finally. He leaned back onto his headboard and pulled his guitar onto his lap. He softly plucked at the strings, waiting for Bobby to answer.

"What?" Bobby was struck by the stupidity of the situation at first. But then his internal worry alarm went off and his view changed. "What do you mean following you? What did the car look like?"

"Umm…." Jack began. He was still absentmindedly playing random chords on his guitar. "It was following me everywhere I went today. It was a black car."

"A black car?" Bobby echoed.

Jack nodded. "It was black with tinted windows."

"Damn it!" Bobby said. His anger rose as he began to worry more. This was all he needed now; someone going after Jack. "So I guess you didn't see the driver then?"

Jack shook his head. "Tinted windows." He thought for a few seconds. "But it wasn't really following me as I walked or anything. It was just there; parked wherever I was."

Bobby got up from the bed suddenly and made his way over to the door. He turned in the doorway to look at his younger brother. His anger was definitely starting to flare up now. He wanted to know who the fucker that was following his younger brother was. Another part of him told him that it could be nothing, just Jack's paranoid side playing tricks on him. Regardless, he'd be on the lookout.

"Don't worry about it, Jack," Bobby said. "I'm here now."

"Right," Jack said with a slight roll of his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Jack…."

"You're here now," Jack said without looking up. His voice was near a whisper. "But how long will you stay?"

Bobby bristled at that. Before shutting the door behind him, he said, "Like I said, Jackie, don't worry. I'm here."

…

The next morning, Bobby stopped Jack at the front door before he left to catch the bus for school.

"Jack, I can give you a ride."

"I'm fine," Jack said. He attempted to leave a second time but Bobby grabbed his arm to stop him. Jack huffed. "Bobby, really it's fine."

Bobby thought about it for a few seconds. He stuck his head out of the door and looked up and down the street both ways before letting go of Jack's arm. "Just be fucking careful," he finally said. "If you see any black cars, call me and I'll come pick you up."

Jack rolled his eyes but nodded. He quickly made his way down the steps before Bobby had the chance to change his mind and force him to get into the car so he could drive him to school. Jack had to admit that being followed rattled him and he understood Bobby's reaction. But he was used to doing things on his own and doing what he wanted. He hated how Bobby could be so damn overprotective sometimes. He saw the old yellow bus pull up to the corner and cursed under his breath, running as fast as he could and getting on just in time.

And over in the next neighbourhood, a similar scene was being played out by two brothers at the exact same time.

"Are you ready?"

The younger of the two was delayed in reacting. He let out a long stream of breath and fidgeted from foot to foot before finally nodding. "I get it. Really, I promise."

The older brother didn't look completely convinced. "You remember exactly how we planned this? You know what to do and what to say? You know what name to use?"

"Yes!" He immediately looked reproachful for speaking in the manner he did. He nodded again. "Please, we've been over this. I know exactly what to do. I won't fail you."

That seemed to placate the older one for the time being. As the younger brother walked down the steps of the old house, he could feel his older brother's eyes on him as he went along. With one hand in his pocket and the other tugging at the silver cross he always wore around his neck, he sighed, silently prayed for the strength he needed and ran to catch the bus that was just rounding the corner.

…

School was one thing that never greatly interested Jack Mercer. He hardly paid attention and he hated doing homework that he was sure was only given to teenagers to torture them. All he wanted to do was play music and work on his music career but he promised his mother he would graduate high school first. So there he was, sitting in class and waiting for the hour to be over, when someone poked his shoulder. He looked up from the doodle he was drawing in his notebook and locked eyes with the person that poked him.

It was the new kid in school, a short kid with spiked brown hair. The teacher introduced him at the beginning of the class but Jack couldn't recall his name. He didn't know what to say so he just waited.

"Cool sticker," the kid said, nodding his head towards the Metallica sticker on Jack's worn-out blue binder. He stuck out his hand for Jack to shake it. "I'm Mark Sidney."

Jack looked at his hand for a few seconds but finally shook it and replied quietly, "Jack Mercer."

After the introduction there was small-talk during which Jack spoke low and in a cautious tone. He was always one to be a bit untrusting at first but as they began to speak about the music they both liked, Jack began to relax. Jack found himself liking Mark by the time the class was over; he didn't usually make a whole bunch of friends but there was something about this guy that Jack liked. They ended up having all the same classes and so they saw each other all day. The more they talked, the more it appeared that they had in common and the more it made Jack glad to have a friend that wasn't a poser or someone whose biggest worry was climbing the social ladder.

After school was finished, they hung out and talked until Jack got a call on his cell phone from Bobby, demanding to know where he was and why he wasn't home yet. After talking to him and trying to calm him down, he hung up and turned to Mark.

"Guess I gotta go," he said, pocketing the cell phone with an annoyed sigh.

"Your dad?"

Jack shook his head. "My brother."

Mark nodded in understanding. "I know how that is."

"Yeah," Jack replied. "Anyway. I better get going. See you later."

Mark watched as Jack walked away. When he was sure Jack was out of earshot, he took his phone from his pocket and pressed the first number on the speed dial. It rang six times before a gruff voice answered. Mark stiffened at the voice immediately.

"I did it," he said. "Yes, I—no I swear. I'm not lying. I really did talk to him and I think—I think he's my friend."

Mark listened for a while before he answered again.

"Yeah, I know. Okay. Yes I'll be home soon."

As he hung up, he felt a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. He fingered the silver cross around his neck and prayed once again that he would have the strength to go through with this.

…

A/N: Okay! And there you have it. I hope it's good and I hope it makes sense. I hope you guys liked it. Anyway, please review and tell me what you thought. Thanks! -Addie