Four Brothers
Title: Pretzels and Beer
Author: veiledndarkness
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: None
Summary: Explaining Christmas is not Bobby’s strong suit.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no harm is intended and no profit has been made.
Pre-movie, about ten years prior.
X
He could feel the weight of Jack's stare from across the table, and to tell the truth, it was unnerving at times. The kid was his shadow, he followed him everywhere, always a few steps behind, both cautious and wary but determined to be wherever Bobby was. Hero worship, Bobby thought with a touch of smugness.
"Here, this one's yours, kid." Bobby tossed one of the red stockings along the table, in Jack's general direction, a pile of decorations scattered about them.
Jack crunched on the end of a candy cane, solemn blue eyes watching him. He dropped his gaze to the velvety red fabric and blinked. "What for?" he asked, rubbing his pinkie finger along the edge of the stocking slowly
It wasn't the big things that caught him off guard with kids like Jack, or hell even kids like he'd been once upon a time. It wasn't the obvious scars, both visible and invisible, the emotional baggage or the fucking hurt that always lingered in their eyes, no, it was the littlest things that made him pause and grit his teeth. Like not understanding why Bobby had given him a stocking.
With a patience rarely seen by others, Bobby pointed back to the living room where Evelyn had strongly 'encouraged' Angel to help her hang tinsel garlands along the wall. He nodded. "See that fireplace?"
"Uh huh," Jack took another bite of the candy cane, the scent of peppermint wafting in the air.
"We hang the stockings there, and on Christmas Eve, when Santa drags his ass down here, he's gonna fill them with gifts and shit. So that's why we hang them up. We all get one."
Jack regarded Bobby with a sceptical look. "Santa's not real."
"Says who?"
"Tommy Miller."
Bobby snagged a candy cane for himself and glanced quickly back at the living room. "Tommy Miller's a dick then. And he's gettin' reindeer shit in his stocking this year."
Jack snickered, covering his muffled giggles. "Eww..."
"Bobby..." Evelyn glared at him. "I heard that."
With a satisfied grin, Bobby unwrapped his candy cane and took a bite. "Totally true, anyone who says he isn't real is a dick. We're gonna leave pretzels an' beer out for him this year."
"Milk an' cookies, Bobby," Jack said, smiling then.
"Nah, I know what he'd prefer, he told me so," Bobby took out his own stocking and nodded to Jack's. "Now write your name on it, huh?"
Jack did so, carefully printing his name in permanent marker on the white ruff of the stocking. Bobby watched him, feeling sad for the moment. He remembered when Christmas meant nothing. This year was different. This year it meant everything.
X
Author: veiledndarkness
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: None
Summary: Explaining Christmas is not Bobby’s strong suit.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no harm is intended and no profit has been made.
Pre-movie, about ten years prior.
X
He could feel the weight of Jack's stare from across the table, and to tell the truth, it was unnerving at times. The kid was his shadow, he followed him everywhere, always a few steps behind, both cautious and wary but determined to be wherever Bobby was. Hero worship, Bobby thought with a touch of smugness.
"Here, this one's yours, kid." Bobby tossed one of the red stockings along the table, in Jack's general direction, a pile of decorations scattered about them.
Jack crunched on the end of a candy cane, solemn blue eyes watching him. He dropped his gaze to the velvety red fabric and blinked. "What for?" he asked, rubbing his pinkie finger along the edge of the stocking slowly
It wasn't the big things that caught him off guard with kids like Jack, or hell even kids like he'd been once upon a time. It wasn't the obvious scars, both visible and invisible, the emotional baggage or the fucking hurt that always lingered in their eyes, no, it was the littlest things that made him pause and grit his teeth. Like not understanding why Bobby had given him a stocking.
With a patience rarely seen by others, Bobby pointed back to the living room where Evelyn had strongly 'encouraged' Angel to help her hang tinsel garlands along the wall. He nodded. "See that fireplace?"
"Uh huh," Jack took another bite of the candy cane, the scent of peppermint wafting in the air.
"We hang the stockings there, and on Christmas Eve, when Santa drags his ass down here, he's gonna fill them with gifts and shit. So that's why we hang them up. We all get one."
Jack regarded Bobby with a sceptical look. "Santa's not real."
"Says who?"
"Tommy Miller."
Bobby snagged a candy cane for himself and glanced quickly back at the living room. "Tommy Miller's a dick then. And he's gettin' reindeer shit in his stocking this year."
Jack snickered, covering his muffled giggles. "Eww..."
"Bobby..." Evelyn glared at him. "I heard that."
With a satisfied grin, Bobby unwrapped his candy cane and took a bite. "Totally true, anyone who says he isn't real is a dick. We're gonna leave pretzels an' beer out for him this year."
"Milk an' cookies, Bobby," Jack said, smiling then.
"Nah, I know what he'd prefer, he told me so," Bobby took out his own stocking and nodded to Jack's. "Now write your name on it, huh?"
Jack did so, carefully printing his name in permanent marker on the white ruff of the stocking. Bobby watched him, feeling sad for the moment. He remembered when Christmas meant nothing. This year was different. This year it meant everything.
X