A/N: Hello, everyone- well, here it is! I've been working on this for quite some time now, and I've finally gathered the courage to publish. This is pretty much the first thing I've written after about five years of writer's block, so... be kind. Constructive criticism and suggestions are welcome, just no flames, please.

This takes place about 12 years in the future, give or take a little.

Warning: This will eventually be a happy fic, but... for a while... it's fairly sad. There are some pretty heavy issues addressed in this fic, centering on abuse and abusive relationships.


Chapter 1


As the wind hit his face, Bob released a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding-and inhaled his first breath as a free man in over a decade. The sunlight was harsh on his pale, freckle-kissed skin, and he shielded his eyes against the glare as he searched for the car that should have been waiting to pick him up. Cecil hadn't answered his last few calls, but when they'd spoken previously, they'd made arrangements for his release date- apparently, he'd forgotten his commitment to his older brother. The gate buzzed closed behind Bob, leaving him alone outside the remote prison. As far as the eye could see in all directions stretched endless desert- not a tree or shred of other cover in sight. He pulled his sleeves as far as they would yield and flattened his mass of ginger hair to cover himself as much as possible, but knew it wouldn't be even close to enough protection. With a sinking heart and rapidly reddening dermis, he started walking in the direction of the nearest civilization.

He barely made it halfway before collapsing. He wasn't sure how long he lay in the ditch, baking like road kill in the sun, waiting for a motorist to drive by and notice his plight, or the droves of desert scavengers to set upon his flesh. He could feel the sun's rays burning his throbbing skin more and more, but lacked the strength to even roll onto his stomach, let alone drag himself any further. He'd just begun to accept his less than dignified demise, when a school bus full of children on their way to the prison for a (rather tasteless) field trip noticed the unnaturally auburn bush and convinced the driver to investigate. Bob was certain that he'd already expired as the paramedics lifted him onto a stretcher and into the ambulance; the journey to the hospital was a blur of bright lights, strange faces, and, mercifully, morphine.

When he regained consciousness, the pain was the first thing that registered- a dull burning on his face and torso, accompanied by an uncomfortable stretching sensation that made it seem like his skin would split apart with even the most minute movement. He opened his eyes and became aware of the gauze bandages covering the entirety of his upper body, face, and arms. He started to look around, but immediately stopped moving when the dull pain intensified. As long as he stayed completely still, it was bearable. Noticing his activity, a doctor came into Bob's limited line of sight, peering at him through the eyeholes in the bandages.

"Good morning," he greeted Bob, his voice pleasant. "I'm Doctor Davis. Please, don't try to talk, or move at all, for that matter. The more motionless you remain, the faster you will heal. You received serious burns on a good portion of your body, as well as severe dehydration, heat stroke, and sun poisoning. It's quite fortunate that those children found you when they did; a few more hours in that sun, and you may not have survived." Bob was wondering if perhaps death wasn't preferable to the agony he was experiencing- not to mention the almost certain melanoma down the road. "Now, it looks like you lost your wallet, so we weren't able to find your identity, but don't worry- as soon as the skin on your face heals a little more, we'll be able to loosen those bandages, and you'll be able to speak freely again. We just need to restrict mobility in your face and hands as much as possible for the next few weeks to prevent scarring. You've been transferred to Springfield General, and you'll be in the recovery ward, where myself and our excellent staff of nurses will attend to you. If you experience too much pain, press this button with your foot, and we'll do our best to make you as comfortable as possible." The doctor gestured to a large red button at the bottom of the bed, conveniently positioned to be in reach of Bob's long feet. "Now just lay back, and try to relax." Bob thought bitterly that he didn't have much choice in the matter. The doctor went back to his rounds, leaving Bob alone with his (slightly drug-muddled) thoughts.

He wondered what had become of Cecil. Although their relationship had had its share of rough spots, he'd always considered their bond of brotherhood rather unbreakable. Now, he was beginning to wonder if he'd taken his younger brother for granted a little too much. His prison mates had told him stories of how they'd been forsaken by even some of their most loyal friends and family upon release. He had assumed that Cecil had forgiven their past grievances, but in retrospect, all of Cecil's setbacks had, in one way or another, been thanks to Bob. Perhaps he'd finally tired of his older sibling, and decided to simply abandon him... Whatever the reason for his absence, Bob wasn't going to be able to find out for sure for some time now, so he tried to put such speculations out of his mind. Soon enough, of course, his thoughts inevitably turned to a more familiar subject: who else, but Bart Simpson?

Just the thought of the young boy's face was enough to cause his heartbeat to spike with rage (audibly, thanks to the machines monitoring his vital signs), and he took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Although he'd tried to forget the boy, forgiveness had been difficult in prison, where every second, his very surroundings were a reminder of the foiled murder attempts. The rest of the Terwilliger clan had been released ahead of schedule, due to good behavior and overcrowding in the prisons, but Bob, a repeat offender, had been forced to serve a much longer sentence. Not a day had gone by that he wasn't plagued by the image of Bart's smug face, laughing as Bob was once more hauled off to confinement, and, now finding himself again imprisoned (this time with far less to distract him from his hatred), he found his thoughts returning to morbid fantasies of revenge. He imagined the look of surprised horror on Bart's face when he finally delivered the killing blow, his vengeance only made that much sweeter by the long wait. Bart probably thought himself safe at this point, had most likely moved on with his life, forgetting that he had ruined Bob's. The most difficult part would be deciding upon a fitting death: he'd had a long time to plan, and he had so many ideas. Bob only hoped that he would recognize his foe; Bart was in his twenties, and had probably changed at least a little over the years. What if he found himself face to face with his nemesis, only to let him walk away unscathed due to ignorance?

The answer to his worries came far sooner than expected.


A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you're liking it so far… Bart will be in the next chapter, don't worry.

Honestly, I usually hate OCs, but I felt like they were necessary to make this work.

A few things you should know:

-As mentioned in the start of the fic, and as I'm sure you've gathered, this fic will get sad before it gets happy. It will be happy eventually, I promise, but... there's a lot that needs to happen before that. I'm warning you now, there are some intense moments, and references to emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. There's nothing too terribly graphic, but it is pretty emotionally heavy at times.

-I did quite a bit of research for this fic, but I'll be the first to admit that I'm not an expert on abusive relationships or the legal system. I tried to be as accurate as possible, but if you spot any outright discrepancies or errors, please let me know. Also, keep in mind that this is Springfield, so sometimes things don't quite make sense (that's my excuse, anyway).

-I tend to be a little wordy, and this fic is pretty long. I've been working on it for a little over a year now, and I'm still not finished, although I do have enough to do quite a few chapters as it is.

-This was intended to be a Bort fic, and eventually there will be Bort, but that doesn't happen for a long time. Honestly, it might end up being in the sequel (because yes, I have parts of a sequel written before I've even finished this one. That's just how my mind works).

-I'll be updating, hopefully, about once a week- I'm going to aim for Sundays, but it might end up being Monday, depending on what's going on. I'm posting the first two chapters right now, just for kicks.

So... please let me know what you think. I really hope you enjoy this, and I look forward to hearing from you!

~A