TITLE: Flashes

CHAPTER/TITLE: Prologue

RATING: T (language and mature content)

SUMMARY: Pre-Movie. "I ain't Ma. I ain't gonna hold your little hand. I'm gonna kick you in the - until what I want to hear comes out your mouth. It's called tough love… Deal with it or see what happens…" Jack's hiding something, from everyone. Time for a little intervention, Bobby Mercer style.

A/N: Another little something for Four Brothers because I love the movie that much and know you all love Jack. So this is a Jack-centric, with a large amount of Jack/Bobby. NOT slash.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Four Brothers…all rights are reserved…all that jazz.

Please read and REVIEW! Loved it? Hate it? Wishing you could regain the last minutes of your life? Let me know.

*****A/N #2: ATTENTION. IMPORTANT SELF-PROMOTING NOTICE. Ha. I feel lousy doing this, but I just wanted to let you all know that I started a FOUR BROTHERS/DEATH SENTENCE crossover fic! It's in the Four Brothers "crossover" section, entitled "SECOND LIFE". I only make this note seeing as the story does not come up under Four Brothers. It is a very heavy Jack/Bobby (NOT SLASH) story. You don't have to have watch Death Sentence to read it. Jack is the main character, but don't worry Darley fans. It is a bit of a twist compared to other crossovers between these two I have seen. First two chapters are posted. More to come!*****

Prologue

Night had long since spilled out over the neighborhood. The streets were quiet, only disturbed by the sporadic few vehicles filled with those returning from a late evening of work, heading in for an entire night of work or swerving home from the bar. A few hoodlums, dealers and prostitutes peppered the roads. Some houses were alive and vibrant with parties or the screams of infants or quarreling couples. The light from television screens illuminated some homes.

The Mercer house sat comfortably amidst all of this, now dark and still after a day of lights and noise. Angel Mercer snoozed happily in a tangle of blankets while down the hallway the matriarch of the household tossed and turned as if sensing something amiss in her seemingly slumbering home. The last bedroom was void of light, sound, and its occupant.

Jack Mercer was perfectly silent and perfectly still, but he was very much awake, and very much not in bed.

Jack stood by the phone in the kitchen for some time. He wasn't waiting for a call. He wasn't pacing like he sometimes did when working up the courage to do something. He also wasn't fidgeting or beating a rhythm out on his legs as he tended to do when nervous. Jack just stood. His head hung low as his eyes studied the crème colored device as if it was a new concept. The blonde boy had been frozen there for almost an hour now and finally his fingertips twitched. His wrist twisted and with one final hand clenching of hesitation, Jack picked up the phone.

Each ring was like a chord of Jack's heart beating into the telephone lines. The shrill noise seemed to drag out longer than Jack could ever remember and it felt like a lifetime before a low voice came through the other end.

"Yeah?"

The sleep caked voice sent Jack back into his paralysis. He couldn't do this. His voice faltered and he almost dropped the phone back on the receiver when the familiar voice spoke again.

"Hello? Ma? What –"

"Bobby," Jack breathed, unable to say anything more.

"Jack? What's goin' on? Are you okay? Is Ma –"

"Bobby – I'm not – I don't –"

"Fuck, Jackie, spit it out. You're fucking scaring me here."

"It's not – we're all okay."

"Then what is it, Jack? It's damn near four 'o clock in the morning."

"I'm sorry, Bobby."

"Jack, if you're high or drunk or something right now, or callin' me to bail you out, I swear I will beat your ass."

"No – I'm not – I just –"

"Aw, fuck, Jackie," Bobby sighed and paused, "was it a damn nightmare?"

Jack was silent and he knew his older brother would take the lack of an answer as a 'yes'. Jack had lost all nerve. He couldn't tell Bobby what was happening. He couldn't tell Bobby anything. Letting Bobby believe it was all just a nightmare was better than the truth.

"Shit, Cracker Jack. You can't do this. You know I love you, man, but you ain't a kid anymore, Jack. I thought you were past all that, at least the nightmares. It's been years since your last one, I thought. Besides, Ma is there. So is Angel. I'm not always gonna be around for these things. Look, I got to get my ass outta this bed in less than two hours. Can this wait?"

"Whatever."

Bobby should have seen it then. The fully awake Bobby Mercer would have. The Bobby Mercer who was living at home and accustom to Jack's middle of the night awakenings would have. But this Bobby Mercer was coming off of a full day of practice and nursing a dislocated shoulder. In his haze of pain medication, beer and sleep, this Bobby neglected to sense anything off coming from his youngest brother.

Jack wordlessly clicked the phone back on the receiver and began the sleepy ascension up the stairs to his bedroom. He knew it was in vain. He knew no rest would come to that room tonight, or to him. He didn't bother turning on his light or even getting undressed. He merely sank into his bed, immersing himself in the covers and vague comfort.

The night rolled forward and now three Mercers spent the night in unrest. Evelyn was tossing harder than before. Jack was simply staring far away at his ceiling. And in another neighborhood altogether, Bobby Mercer listened to the echoing of his brother's voice in his head again and again as he silently and subconsciously muttered a prayer he had thought he had long forgotten.