TITLE: The Mini Mauler

CHAPTER/TITLE: Chapter One/ And Then There Was Jack

RATING: T (language and mature content)

A/N: A short little Halloween treat. Can you tell I just LOVE Halloween? And Jack/Bobby Halloween scenarios?!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Four Brothers or Halloween. This year I don't even own a pumpkin. Sad.

Chapter One: And Then There Was Jack

Jack's small laughter rang like bells, cascading softly, yet beautifully, through the house. Evelyn's soulful and rumbling hooting and snorting followed in happy harmony.

Bobby couldn't help but crack a grin at the sweet sounds as he stepped through the front door, no matter how syrupy or sappy that made him. His mother worked far too much for his liking and the nature of her job rarely called for humor, or even smiles.

And then there was Jack. He hadn't been with them for very long, but they seized every opportunity to draw any emotion out of the child. Bobby still was overtaken by chills whenever Jack reverted to his natural, or more accurately, adapted, cold and vacant state. Bobby had used violence and rage. Angel employed the same to a lesser extent, coating himself healthily in layers of lies and schemes and icy brooding silence. Jerry had been quiet too, but he resorted to small, discreet acts of rebellion. Bobby had wanted to rip out his hair at his younger brothers' antics, but would gladly prefer and deal with those terrors than with Jack's apparent defense mechanism. It was as if he shut himself down. Physically, he was there, but they all knew his mind was somewhere else, back behind those haunting hollow eyes.

Evelyn attempted to reel Jack back to reality with activities. She would put music and have him help her around the house with any and everything. The busyness helped distract Jack from wherever it was he went when left alone with only his thoughts.

Jerry used projects, similar to Evelyn's tactics. Jeremiah had already taught Jack how to build a birdhouse and a small wooden toy plane. Of course, Jerry swore Jack to secrecy as he didn't need Bobby or Angel learning he was teaching Jack such things. Making toys, even if it was with tools and wood, could be made into a joke. That actually seemed to excite Jack more than the work itself. It made him feel like he was truly part of the family.

Angel had a different approach at cracking the child's shell. At first, he hadn't been too keen on obtaining a younger brother and didn't like Jack's odd behavior. He was almost downright cold to Jack before a stern speech from Evelyn, and a glimpse into Jack's past through witnessing one of his nightmares, softened Angel's icy exterior. He taught Jack a few simple card games and tricks. He didn't think the method was working until Jack beat Bobby in a game and the boy beamed brighter than any of them had ever seen. Bobby resisted calling a rematch and Angel went on to instruct Jack in more kid-friendly games when Evelyn discovered her new sever year old son gambling. The kid was now the king of checkers and Pictionary in their house.

Bobby's methods were by far the most questionable. He was firm with Jack, almost too much so for Evelyn's comfort. Evelyn was in no way a meek mother, but also didn't have Bobby's – charm. The eldest Mercer teased Jack relentlessly his first week there. That was, until Jack finally screamed at him, tackling Bobby in the process. It was the one fight Bobby Mercer allowed himself to lose. He pretended to be taken down by Jack's lunge and proceeded to let the kid kick and scratch and punch, rage and tears pouring out. To Bobby, that emotional release was as satisfying to see and hear the boy's laughter.

Anything was better than that void.

A sudden silence pulled Bobby away from his musings. A hush had fallen over the house. He waited for his mother's voice, footsteps, anything. Curiosity and worry fueling him, Bobby padded through the hall and froze just before the threshold to the kitchen. The sight stunned even stoic Bobby Mercer. Entrails were strewn sloppily all over the countertops, dropping and staining the tile. Evelyn's form was motionless.

And then there was Jack.

He stood over the entire scene silently, knife clutched in his small fingers.