Disclaimer: Do I look like Matt Groening? I don't look like him 'cause I ain't him so keep your blood-sucking lawyers to yourself!
AN: Watched the episode where Lisa steals all the teachers' edition textbooks and really, when all is said and done, Bart would do anything for his sisters. It's a side that doesn't come out very often, and in 'Confession' I tried to channel that. I think I succeeded because I got such encouraging reviews! So I decided to try another Bart one-shot.
Sacrifice
Eyes closed and leaning on the outside wall by the open kitchen window, he grimaced as he listened to the conversation inside. "Damn." He muttered under his breath as he pushed away from the wall and hopped the fence to the street behind it. Normally, he was a selfish son-of-a bitch and anyone would be hard pressed to find a reason to say otherwise, but this was his family and despite what he often said about them, he genuinely loved them. It was something he rarely showed, he had an image and a reputation to maintain after all.
The night he spilled his guts to Lisa, he suspected now that she'd been awake after all. She'd changed, she'd stopped being a suck up while maintaining perfect grades. As a result, colleges and universities had been slobbering at the prospect of getting her. She'd gotten a full scholarship to the university of her choice. Now it was Maggie's turn, she was almost as smart as her sister, focusing more on the visual arts than the musical and would graduate high school within the year. There were no offers for her.
Things were different with Lisa away, Homer couldn't work anymore and his pension was a joke. There wasn't anything his parents could do, they were almost broke and the house should've been condemned ages ago. Thoughtfully he rubbed the stubble on his jaw and chin, there was a man he knew, long ago, that had told him there would always be a job waiting for him. While rumour had him not in the best of health, he was still alive. His stride turned from one of aimless wandering to one with a purpose and took him to Little Italy. Down the stairs to a basement level entrance, he gave a sharp knock on the door and after his proof of identity he was let in and led to a dark, smoke filled office.
"Why Bartholomew, what brings you to my humble abode?" The older man gestured toward a chair, he remained standing and leaned forward with both hands on the desk.
"This ain't a social call Fat Tony, I'm here to take you up on your offer." Blunt and to the point, no need for bullshit. Fat Tony paused, studying him.
"Things have changed since then Bartholomew. You are no longer a ten year old purveyor of mischief."
"I need the money Tony."
"Very well. Have a seat and we shall negotiate." Behind him, the door closed.