Marge stared back at Bart with a nervous eye. It was now a little past eleven o'clock and he should have been in bed about an hour ago. She sensed that he was still up because he wanted to make sure she got home safe which was kind of him, but now he had seen something that should have never been seen. Marge knew she had to find a way out of this and tried to bring about a different subject.
"So Bart did you have a nice evening with your sisters?" asked Marge as she set Maude's coat on a chair to help dry it.
Bart did not respond but continued to glare as Marge walked through the rooms making sure everything was tidy. To her surprise, everything had been cleaned up and everything looked spotless. Definitely a nice thing to come home to. She then walked out of the kitchen and towards the steps, hoping that she could avoid a conversation with Bart, perhaps it would all blow over in the morning.
"I saw what you did," he said in the most spiteful tone as she walked past him.
Marge turned around and stared back at him, she now knew that there was no way out of this tonight, his eyes were set on hers and he wanted an explanation.
"Bart don't worry about it, it was nothing," said Marge hoping that he would get it and leave her alone.
"Like hell it wasn't!" he said as he jumped up full of anger.
"Bart don't you dare use that language in front of me, I am your mother and you have no right to pry into my private life," said Marge remembering that she was the leader of the house and the one who made the rules, not a twelve year old.
"You love him don't you?" said Bart with a stare so angry that it made Marge wonder if he could bore a hole into her forehead.
Marge stared back amazed by how angry Bart was and amazed he would even ask such a ridiculous question. But it was one a twelve year old would probably ask when his whole life was being turned around. Strangely though this was a question she was having trouble with tonight.
"Love is a strong word Bart," sighed Marge after she stared back at her son for a few moments.
This was when Bart suddenly went over the edge, he had not received a straight answer from either Ned or Marge and it was making him very angry.
"Then what the hell is love? Why the hell did you kiss him? Why have I seen him hug you? What the hell is going on?" asked Bart.
Marge gave a heavy sigh, she really did not want to get into a fight with Bart, it was late and things weren't making sense as it was. She did wish Homer was there to straighten things out but of course he would probably give Bart a good throttling. She knew he was still taking his death pretty hard, yet he had kept his emotions locked tight. It made her wonder how he could handle all this, probably what he was doing right now. She knew she had to tell him to stop.
"Bart, it's late, I'm exhausted and you are too, maybe if you sleep on it, what you saw won't seem as bad," said Marge as she began walking up the stairs again. She really wanted to get out of the wet clothes she was wearing and take a warm bath before bed.
"No! We need to talk this over right now," said Bart eyes fixed on her and his arms crossed in anger.
"Bart!" said Marge as calmly as she could.
"Dad said I was the man of the house now and as man of the house I say that hanging out with Flanders is a bad idea. When I see him with you, you just seem to forget that Dad was ever a part of us. You come home and look extremely happy like he erased Dad from your mind; it's as if you want to marry the guy. I know he makes you feel better but finding someone new so soon is just wrong," said Bart, to Marge he seemed to be rambling about nothing but she could tell that he was frustrated by his voice.
"Bart, calm down, I will never forget your father, Ned has just helped me through a very difficult loss. If you talked to him, he would probably help you out as well," said Marge.
"But I don't want him to help me, I don't care about him. He's just a goody two shoes, who's trying to get at you. One day you'll forget Dad ever existed because he will warp your mind with all those Bible verses and howdilly doodillys," said Bart who now looked angrier than ever.
Marge stared back at him, she could not believe what he was saying, it hurt her deep inside and she knew that she had to silence him somehow. And she knew the best response to that.
"So what about when you spent time with Ned before we left for Alaska. I remember you even told your father you wished that Ned was your father, you even went to him before the bomb blew off," said Marge hoping that this would be the nail on the coffin.
"Yeah well that was different; Dad was being selfish just like you are being right now. You are only thinking about what is right for you and not how I, Lisa, or Maggie feel. You Just……" Bart began but before he could finish, Marge, in all her frustration and anger, grabbed Bart by the shirt cuff and pinned him against the wall as hard as she could.
"Listen here little man, if you ever call me selfish again I swear you will get a worse throttling than your father ever gave you," said Marge as she pointed at him and her face was so full of anger that even Lisa would be afraid to go near her.
Bart stared back, amazed that his own mother would turn on him like this. He tried to show no emotion, he did not want to loose this fight and he did not want to stop now no matter what.
"You don't even care do you?" he said in a serious tone.
Marge stared back at him, not even a tear had fallen; only his eyes showed that he was unhappy with what was going on. She could sense that he was not going to give up.
"I do care; I am just tired, especially of your attitude right now. And if you don't leave me alone then consider yourself grounded for a month," said Marge whose voice started to rise with every word.
"That's fine by me, why would I want to spend time with a whore like you!" Exclaimed Bart who made sure he emphasized on the word "whore" while his face was so close to Marge's that she could feel his breath.
Marge stared back in shock at Bart; never in her wildest dreams did she ever think he would say that. She looked into his eyes, hoping to find some remorse, but none came, only that angry stare that he had given since she came home.
"You seriously mean that?" asked Marge her eyes now watering up at the thought of her only son treating her this way.
"I don't know, you tell me what love is and maybe I will apologize," said Bart as loudly and as angry as he could, he did not care if he was hurting his mother's feelings.
Marge was now more frustrated than ever, never in her life had Bart been this difficult. Suddenly she did something that she never imagined doing, luckily they were only standing on the fourth step or Bart would have really hurt himself. As hard as she could, she pushed Bart down the stairs causing him to land heavily on his bottom knocking the wind out of him. Marge watched him fall and then saw the pain in his eyes when he finally landed, her maternal instincts suddenly kicked in and she gasped in surprise at her sudden horrible actions. She could not believe she had done that.
Once Bart regained his breath, he looked up at Marge, and his eyes were still filled with hate but this time, they had tears flowing freely because of the sudden shock of his mother's actions. Marge stared back at him for a moment before deciding that enough was enough, she had to escape to her room away from any more attacks. She reached the top stairs when Bart let out one more retaliation.
"I hate you!" he said with spite.
Marge turned around and looked back at her son, her only son who stared back like little Nemo in that fish movie.
"I wish Dad was here instead of you!" he screamed.
Marge stared back, did Bart really mean this or was he just exhausted from being up so late. She hoped it was the latter she did not want Bart to stop loving her.
"You want to know what he told me two years ago before anything bad ever happened, it was when you were on the police force, you want to know what he told me?" asked Bart who was now shaking with emotion as he slowly climbed the steps.
"W-what did he tell you Bart?" asked Marge who was now shaking as well.
"He told me that if he ever lost you, he would never know what to do with himself. He said you were the only one for him; no one else would ever take your place. You were his greatest treasure. He said that if you died his life would be over and that the only thing he would look forward to was us coming home and making his day, that's how much he cared about you," said Bart his voice shaking with emotion as the tears finally showed themselves after months of keeping them in.
Marge stared back, crying for the first time in many nights. She could not believe what Bart had just told her and it made her wish that Homer was standing right there just to comfort her from the words Bart had just told her. Finally she could not take it any more and ran as fast as she could to her room, locking the door behind her. She soon found herself weeping uncontrollably on the bed. She could not believe she just flung her son down the stairs, it was something she would never do, her feelings had finally got to her and it hurt the ones she loved. Why did she do what she did? Why did Homer have to leave her so soon? She wanted to grow old with him, not watch him decay so soon like he did. So much was going through her mind now and she wondered if she would ever forgive herself for it.
Bart made his way to the top stairs and stared at the closed door before noticing that Lisa was standing by her door in her room. Tears falling down her face, he knew she heard the whole thing.
"How could you say such things Bart?!" Lisa proclaimed before she slammed the door behind her.
Bart let out a heavy sigh, he now felt guilty, but he wanted his mother to know how he felt and he knew that sooner or later it would have to come out. Too bad it was with a fight. He believed he was right though, he didn't want Marge to fall in love so soon after loosing his father, his only father that he was now missing terribly. Bart quickly slammed the door to his room behind him and made his way over to his bed. He stared down at it with a gloomy face while his guilt began to rise and a feeling of hopelessness overcame him. Finally he grabbed his pillow and hugged it tightly as the tears began to fall heavily for the first time.
Never had he cried like this, during the those two years in which his father fought for his life, he would only cry softly letting it last for a few moments before wiping the tears away. Boys didn't cry, he always told himself, they had to be strong and brave through even the toughest situations. Holding it in meant that you could handle anything and that's what Bart believed in until tonight.
He lay there on his bed, covering his head with his pillow and wishing with all his heart that things would be okay. As he sobbed under the pillows, he heard Lisa in the next room playing her saxophone and he wondered how she was handling everything that was going on.
A/N: Okay I will admit that this was a hard chapter to write and it's short too which is kind of nice since my chapters have been long. Yeah Bart's pissed and Marge had a little too much wine, I hope they were not too out of character, if they were please slap me. I hope you all thought it was okay because this chapter is kind of important for the rest of the story, you will see why when I get to the end of chapter 12. And I keep adding things so yeah this story might reach 20 chapters, I'm still sorting through details.
Also I was surprised that only two readers reviewed the last chapter, I thought I would get quite a few people gasping at what had gone on. I guess it wasn't as surprising as I thought it was. But please review, I love getting critiques and reactions to what is going on, it makes me feel all warm and gooshy. I will shut up now and let you all go on with your lives and be prepared for the next chapter; I can't wait to share it. See you all in about a week.