Jack and Bobby

Jack stared at his plate, not wanting to eat. It was the Mercer Brothers' new tradition that they spend every Thanksgiving together at Evelyn's house, and every year it made Jack sick. It had been three years since their mom's death, and it still hurt as if it had just happened sometimes. Usually, it killed him the most around the holidays.

"Jackie, why aren't you eatin'?" Bobby asked from the head of the table.

Jack looked up at him and sighed.

"My stomach's upset," he lied.

Bobby knew very well that Jack wasn't telling the truth…he just wasn't sure what was eating away at him. He'd been acting weird for the past few months. Even though he knew Jack was lying, he decided not to press the matter.

"If you ain't gonna eat it, I will," Angel said as he picked up Jack's plate and put it at his section of the table. Jack simply watched him do so and picked up his beer to take a swig.

"Angel," Jeremiah warned after he'd watched him take Jack's food.

"What, he wasn't gonna eat it."

Jeremiah just shook his head and looked at Bobby, who was still staring at Jack, concerned.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," Jack said, suddenly, as he got out of his chair and started up the stairs.

Once they all heard the bathroom door closed behind him Bobby spoke.

"Do any of you guys know what's bothering him?"

"Probably just thinkin' about Mom," Jerry offered.

"No…he always gets weird around this time, but there's something different about him."

Jerry nodded. He knew Bobby was right.

"Angel, calm down!" Sophie said as she slapped the back of his head. He had been pile driving Jack's food.

Bobby laughed. He'd been getting along better with Sophie since she'd married Angel. She wasn't as obnoxious and controlling. Probably because she knew Angel was hers, where as before she had to fight for him.

---

Steam quickly started to rise out of the shower as Jack stood inside of it, soothed by the warm water pouring over him. His head was spinning as he ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes.

"God damn it…" he whispered to himself as he leaned against the wall.

Suddenly, Jack heard the bathroom door open and he poked his head out from behind the shower curtain.

"Bobby…what are you doin'?" Jack asked, irritated.

"I came up here to see what the fuck's wrong with my little brother, you okay with that?"

Jack sighed.

"Nothing, man. I'm fine. It's just…you know…mom and all."

Bobby closed the door behind him and sat on the sink counter, raising his eyebrows at Jack. Jack raised his eyebrows back at him, to show that he wasn't going to change his story.

"Alright, fine," Bobby said as he held his hands together and breathed out, showing that he wasn't going to move.

Jack let out a frustrated growl and turned the shower off, then got out and put a towel around his waste quickly. Bobby watched him carefully and noticed the scar just below his right shoulder from where he'd been shot. Jack caught him looking at the scar and offered him a light smile.

"See, you'd miss me if I was gone."

Bobby shook his head.

"I never said I wouldn't," he replied, a very serious tone in his voice.

Jack's smile faded as he realized Bobby was honestly concerned. He walked over and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Bobby…I'm gonna be ok. I've just got some shit goin' on right now."

Bobby nodded.

"You sure you can handle your shit?"

Jack chuckled a bit.

"Yeah…yeah I can handle my own shit."

Bobby smiled at him and then they hugged for a moment before pulling away from one another.

"Now get you're ass dressed…We're gonna go out and fuck with Detroit."

Jack shook his head and smiled.

"Yeah, sure. Let's go fuck with Detroit, Bobby."

They smiled at each other again before Bobby left the bathroom and Jack proceeded to get dressed.