Disclaimer: I do not own The Simpsons characters; only the original characters listed in this fic.

I accept constructive criticism. c:

~•~•~•~

"And then I said, well buddy, that's a darn-diddly-arn shame because if you wanted a regular citrus zester, there's a few nice places where you can get them: anywhere but here!"

Ned's tale of an irate customer at his Leftorium was followed by a few laughs and smiles, some half-hearted and some genuine. Marge was one of the latter, always amused by her neighbor's optimistic attitude when it came to dealing with the worst of the worst.

"Jeez Flanders, you've gotten a backbone over the years, eh? I'm surprised you didn't just grin and tell him you'd make one from scratch." Homer's voice carried over the table after he finished chewing and swallowing a piece of prime rib.

Ned chuckled and adjusted his glasses nervously. "Well, retail will bring the devil out in you, I hate to admit it. But for every sin I commit, I say five extra prayers before I go to bed."

The Simpson man laughed and pointed his fork at his neighbor. "Now there's that pious guy that I know!"

The two men grinned at each other before turning their attention to Reverend Lovejoy's droning voice as he not so subtly complained about one of the parishioners giving a meager than usual donation last Sunday. Sure enough, like clockwork, Helen piped in with her usual chitchat about what said parishioner was up to that led to such a 'scandal'. Marge couldn't help but roll her eyes as she sipped her glass of wine. Her tolerance of Helen Lovejoy had dwindled over the years as the gossipy hen became well…unbearable. One second she was trying to have a civil conversation with her (though her idea of civil was giving and taking info about others to spread rumors), the next she was turning her pointed nose up at her and making sly comments about whatever shenanigans the Simpson family had gotten up to. The blue-haired woman could only take so much of her; she was glad they were on opposite sides of the table.

Riiiing. Riiiing.

Marge's eyes widened as the muffled sound of her phone rang out. Reaching into her purse, she held it up to see Bart's name on the caller ID. Frowning a bit as maternal instincts kicked in, she excused herself from the table, telling Homer that Bart was calling them. Walking over to the hallway that led to the restrooms, she picked up the call before holding the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Mom! Thank God you picked up, we have a… well, a situation."

The blue-haired woman's breath caught in her throat as countless scenarios flashed through her head.

Did something happen to Bart or Lisa?

Did one of their friends get hurt?

Or did something happen to Maggie and Patty and Selma were somehow unable to reach her?

"Sweetie, what's going on? Are you hurt? Are your sisters okay? Did-"

"Mom, mom, we're fine! Well, physically, at least… I-"

A mixture of voices could be heard in the back, cutting off her son's voice. Soon after they started, the sound of a door opening could be heard along with the sound of…sirens?

"Bart? Bart, what's going on? Why do I hear sirens?"

Before Bart could respond, a few more voices sounded, some of them sounding familiar. They didn't sound like her kids' friends but adults. Marge could hear her son responding to those voices, presumably answering their questions; what questions they were, she didn't know.

"Bart!"

His voice came back onto the line at his mother's shout. "S-Sorry mom…I was talking to the cops…"

A gasp escaped. "Cops?! What on Earth is happening over there?!"

"Mom…Chief Wiggum said I can give you a briefing but it's best if you and dad come back straight away." The voices sounded again and Bart gave a small groan of frustration. "Mom, after this, I have to hang up, okay?"

"Wh-What? Why?"

At this, her son let out a harsh exhale. She could picture him rubbing the back of his neck right now. "Well…the cops are here because…Alex has been kidnapped."

Marge couldn't help the horrified gasp she let out, causing a passing patron to give her a quizzical look. Her son continued while she took in the information. "The thing is is that the guy who took her…he's in the area…actually, he's in the treehouse. We had to call the cops so they could help us…"

Something about the way Bart trailed off bothered her; almost like he was hiding something.

"Bart…d-do you know who kidnapped her?"

A deep breath was sucked in. "Yeah, it's…do you…remember someone named Jack Crowley?"

That sentence nearly caused Marge's phone to slip from her sweaty hand as her mouth gaped open. Her recent fears and nightmares had become a reality. Despite her insistent denials and ignorance in thinking he wanted anything to do with her, Jack Crowley had reentered her life. But he decided to barge in and cause an innocent girl to suffer; that was just too far.

The sounds of Bart's shouting brought her back to reality. "I-I…do…Bart, please listen to the police officers and keep everyone safe. Your father and I will be there as soon as possible." Bart gave his affirmation before hanging up.

Once that call ended, Marge's knees buckled before making contact with the tiled floor. She raised her hands up to press them against her temples, wishing with all her might to not have a breakdown in front of the restaurant bathrooms. This wasn't the time to lose it. Her children and their friends needed her. She had to get up and grab Homer so he could drive them both home. After a few deep breaths, the Simpson woman stood up, albeit shakily, and began making her way back to the table, masking the distress on her face with indifference. She didn't need more gossip to go around town.

Leaning down close to his ear, she whispered. "Homer, we have to go home. Now."

Her husband looked up at her in confusion, his jovial conversation with another parishioner being cut short. "'Huh? Marge, what's wrong? Did that ravioli not sit well with you?"

"N-No, it's just…look, the kids really need us right now. Please, let's just go."

Giving him the most pleading look with her eyes while keeping the rest of her face stony, she prayed he would pick up on her distress without making a scene. God must have been taking pity as Homer's eyes narrowed a bit before he nodded. "Alright…I'll go get the car." Standing up and reaching into his back pocket, he handed her his wallet to pay for their portion of the meal before turning to the table with a grin.

"Well, guys and gals, I hate to be that person but we've gotta head out early."

A couple of the occupants frowned, Ned especially. "But Homer, we didn't even have dessert yet. What's the ru-diddly-ush?"

For a split second, the Simpson man was tempted to say 'screw it' when he was reminded of dessert but the turmoil in his wife's eyes was too great to ignore. "Heh, well, uh…Maggie sounds like she's got some stomach bug or something…gotta go get her from the demons' place."

Ned's eyes flashed with sympathy. "Well, that does sound like a doozy. Go help her out and get home safe, neighborino!" Homer nodded at him and everyone else before walking towards the exit.

Marge pulled Homer's credit card out of his wallet and flagged down a waiter to pay their bill, her hands shaking with nerves and anxiety as she gave him the plastic. Once it was approved and she left a good tip, she gave her goodbyes to everyone else and walked out quickly to the exit. Sure enough, Homer's pink sedan pulled up in front of the curb. Quickly hopping in, she began to inform her husband about what was really going on as they made their way home. She just hoped the situation wouldn't get worse before they reached.

~•~•~•~

Lisa wished desperately that Professor Frink's time machines actually worked right now. She would've jumped into one of them, traveled back to Thursday and told everyone to not have this slumber party. When asked why, she would tell them that some psychopath, fixated on her mom, kidnapped one of her best friends and was currently holed up in their treehouse, leading to Lisa, Bart and their friends standing outside the house, waiting with the cops as they figured out how to quell the situation.

The blonde couldn't help but bring one of her hands up and start fiddling with her pearls, a nervous habit she had picked up a few years ago. Her other arm was wrapped around her own waist, hoping to calm the uneasy feeling that churned her stomach. Turning her head both ways, she groaned internally as all the commotion had brought an audience of neighbors, curious as to what madness the Simpsons had gotten into this time. Thankfully, the police had the sense to set up barriers, barring anyone else from entering the crime scene. That wasn't much fun for the two officers on each side who had to stand guard and ward off the nosy queries; the looks on their faces screamed 'I don't get paid enough for this!'.

"Well, mom and dad are on their way now."

Jumping a bit at her brother's voice, she looked up to see him standing next to her, a troubled look on his face. "How did they take it?"

Bart sighed deeply and ran a hand through his shaggy spikes. "Mom sounded kinda calm…but I'm sure she's gonna lose it once she reaches."

Lisa winced at her brother's reply. "I wouldn't be surprised…"

Silence fell between the siblings, contrasting the noise of officers running around in front of them as they set up their megaphones and bulletproof vests. The two ended up studying their group of friends, scattered on each side of them as they tried to comfort each other in the madness.

Allison and Nina were conversing with Lewis and Richard, their folded arms and stressed expressions belying what would look like a casual conversation. Allison's hair had only been half down, the rest of it still lying up in the pin curls carefully crafted by Sophie. Whatever was down was being rubbed between her fingers; a nervous habit of hers. Nina's hands were buried in the pocket of her oversized hoodie; luckily she had the sense to pick it up before going out into the chilly air. Lewis was standing next to said girl, an arm resting over her shoulders. Whether it was to keep her warm or an excuse to get close, that was a question for a later time. Richard had seemed to mostly sober up by now; Lewis had to help him up the basement stairs, cursing his best friend out for getting carried away while on mixing duty. His back now stood straight as a rod as he kept looking between the group and the house.

The other group consisted of Donny, Milhouse and Nelson having their own conversation while Sophie and Becky sat on the curb. Sophie had her arms still wrapped tight around her friend, rubbing her back and giving her words of comfort. Becky had been prone to crying fits ever since they left the house, being shaky yet quiet before going to sobs as she thought of worse case scenarios for what Jack had done, and could continue to do, to Alex. The boys were a contrast with looks of frustration and anger. Nelson was no doubt venting about how badly he wanted to hurt the criminal to teach him a lesson, his arms waving wildly and hands balling into fists. Donny surely felt the same but hid his anger better than the former, folding his arms across his chest while a stony frown stayed across his face. Milhouse was the meekest of the three, trying his best to calm down the Muntz boy from doing something that could endanger him or get him arrested. The blue-haired boy could be seen flinching a few times whenever the other redirected his fury onto him for a moment.

The Simpson kids felt even more helpless now. Why did this have to happen to them, especially to Alex?

"Bart! Lisa!"

Their eyes shot up as the voices of their parents rang out, spotting them running frantically towards them. "Mom! Dad!"

Homer and Marge nearly ran into them, Marge especially as she pulled the two into a tight hug. "Oh, my babies! You're okay! I-I was worried something happened to you, I-I…"

Bart and Lisa quickly returned their mom's embrace as her voice began cracking. "Mom, it's okay, we're here…"

The mother pulled away and wiped a few tears from her eyes. "Thank God…but Alex…how did this happen?"

Bart and Lisa quickly explained to their parents exactly how things had gone down while they were gone, from Lisa's discovery of the break and enter to contacting the police to talking to the perpetrator himself. As they kept on, Marge's face grew paler while Homer's twisted in anger. "This guy's got some nerve, busting into my house and kidnapping one of my daughter's friends! Who does he think he is, Jason Bourne?"

"I don't understand…why is he going to all this trouble?"

With the question that left Marge's lips, the kids looked at each other uneasily before focusing on her. "Mom…" Lisa licked her dry lips for the hundredth time that night. "He was asking about you…he said he would-" She lost her words but her brother was able to continue. "He said he'd come for all of us if he didn't get what he came for…what does he mean?"

The blue-haired woman's eyes and open mouth widened further as her kids told her Jack's words. Get what he came for? He couldn't have meant Marge herself…could he? She knew that back then, she had fought for him and gave him the second (well, third) chance to express his feelings through painting, not fist fights or petty stabbings. But he blew it and threw away whatever progress he made over pride…however, she never considered just how much of an impact she could have made on the convict. Maybe the years of prison and insanity had caused him to have a twisted fixation on the housewife. Marge shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself at the thought; Homer took her trembling as her being cold and wrapped his arms around his wife.

'No…that couldn't be it. That would mean…it's my fault that Alex is in danger?'

"Mr. and Mrs. Simpson."

The voice of Chief Wiggum, flanked by Eddie and Lou, rang out and the group turned to look at him, a surprisingly stern expression on his round face. "Looks like your daughter was right; Jack Crowley is hiding out in the treehouse."

Lou then butted in. "We sent an officer in to peek at it from a safe distance and they spotted two heads through the window."

Eddie decided to join in. "Now the problem is getting them down safely. According to the kids, this guy is armed and dangerous."

"We're gonna try to talk him out first before we go jumping in there but uh…well, we can't really afford to lose any men…"

Homer's eyebrows knitted together at the chief. "Don't you guys have any Kevlar vests or something?"

"No, actually. Funny thing is, we used them as flotation devices at one of the patrol officer's pool party a week ago. Turns out they don't hold up very well once they're wet, heh heh!" Wiggum's snorting laugh was met with irate looks from the Simpson family, causing it to die out before clearing his throat. "But, um, we are looking for substitutes in order to ensure that the girl will be rescued with no casualties tonight."

Lou spoke up once more, having to do damage control for his superior yet again. "The good news is that it looks like Crowley isn't holding any firearms. One of our boys found the stolen car he was driving down the road and no ammo or gunpowder residue was found inside. At least if he wants to hurt someone, it would have to be close range."

At this, Lisa gave a fretful cry. "But Officer Lou, Alex is the one who's in close range! He's already hurt her, you have to stop him before he does something worse!"

The dark-skinned man gave her a sympathetic look, feeling the frustration she had. "I know, little lady. Don't worry, we should be able to get in contact with him any second now with our hostage negotiator."

"Chief, we're ready!"

The officers turned as one of their own yelled for them, standing next to a cop car with another man next to him, wearing a rumpled dress shirt and tie and creased slacks along with a serious expression. The family assumed that was the hostage negotiator due to his lack of uniform.

Nodding at the officer, Wiggum and his boys gave the Simpsons a small reassurance as they went over to deal with the situation.

~•~•~•~

Jack was this close to blowing a gasket.

Those sirens that he had heard ended up stopping right in front of the Simpson house and were throwing a wrench in his plan. He was positive that they knew he was here; one of those brats must have snitched after he hung up. Another growl rumbled in his chest.

He wished he could get his hands on the rest of the punks and snap their necks.

Hearing shifting from the right of him, his dark eyes landed on his hostage as she sat up on her knees, staring out the window. The red and blue lights illuminated half of her tear-stained face, her eyes wide with a glimmer of hope. 'Oh no missy, we can't have that.'

The convict reached a foot out and kicked her back into the corner, a muffled cry escaping through the gag. "Sit your ass down, brat. Those pigs ain't gonna save you anytime soon." The girl narrowed her eyes at him again, that spark of hope now replaced with hatred dashed with fear. Jack's smirk widened at how much fire this kid still had in her.

Before he could taunt her again, the sound of a nasally voice rang out throughout the night sky.

"Jack Crowley! This is the Springfield Police Department! We have you surrounded and know you're hiding out in the treehouse. Surrender and let the girl go or we will be forced to use…uh, Lou? How do you pronounce it? …Oh. We will be forced to use coercion!"

Jack rolled his eyes as the incompetent Chief of Police began making demands. The fatass couldn't even touch his own toes, what made him think they could lay a finger on him? So long as he had his hostage, he was invincible.

Alex, however, felt her hopes raise as Chief Wiggum's voice boomed out. Her friends had gotten someone to save her! While the local police department wasn't exactly a beacon of light, it was better than being next to this lunatic. Static filled the air again as he spoke once more.

"Aw come on, we're giving you an easy choice!"

Wiggum's whining was cut off as the voice of Lou replaced his own. "Jack, you're already facing a ton of charges, you don't want to make it worse by adding assault or murder to it, do you?" Alex's face paled further at his implication. "If you won't come out immediately, at least let the hostage go."

Jack refused to move forward yet again. He was in enough deep shit as it is, what was another charge or two? Until…

"Jack…this is Marge Simpson…"

At the sound of that hesitant and scratchy voice, his back went ramrod straight and his eyes widened. 'Marge? She's here?'

"Jack, please, don't do this…that girl is innocent. It's me you came for, isn't it?"

Sucking in a sharp breath, the criminal's eyes closed as his heart rate continued to climb. She was finally here. So close yet so far. 'Yes Marge…you are the reason I'm here…'

"I know we didn't leave off on the best terms but…please, let's talk. The police are going to throw a megaphone into the backyard…just speak through that."

True to her words, a megaphone was thrown over the fence onto the grass, tumbling for a few seconds before landing a few feet away from the foot of the treehouse. Jack stared down at it for what felt like an eternity. On one hand, he could get his wish of finally speaking to her after all these years. On the other hand, it wasn't quite face to face and the threat of the pigs nearby made it dangerous to even attempt walking past the fence.

He swore loudly and clenched his fists. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, dammit! Their reunion was supposed to happen face to face, filled with radiant smiles and warm embraces and maybe, just maybe, whispers that led to reddened cheeks and coy laughter. But he still had a chance; if he could get through to her, it just might all work out.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Jack turned to his hostage. "Oy, turn around."

Raising an eyebrow, Alex slowly complied, confused as to what he had up his sleeve. Jumping a bit when she felt his rough hands resting over her wrists, her startled response was replaced by shock when she felt the rope loosening before falling away. Immediately, she brought her abused wrists in front of her to rub them, the yellow skin reddened with ugly marks. After that, she quickly untied the gag in her mouth and threw it into the corner, breathing in the night air.

"Now listen up."

At his rough command, the teen reluctantly turned back to face him. "We're gonna go down there so I can talk to these people but we ain't goin' anywhere near that fence. If I so much as catch you takin' a step towards it, I will slit your throat. Got it?"

Alex winced as his explanation segued into yet another threat, the look on his face suggested that this time, he really wouldn't hesitate. She could do nothing but nod.

Satisfied with her response, he slipped his knife back inside his inner jacket pocket and scooted himself backwards out of the entrance to begin climbing down. Before his face disappeared, he motioned to the girl with his head to begin following him. Alex sighed internally and prepared herself to make her way down, wondering just when this nightmare was going to end.

~•~•~•~

Marge was gnawing on her bottom lip, the red lipstick that was once there fading away to show the natural pink hiding underneath. She couldn't believe that she was doing this.

Marge Simpson doing a hostage negotiation!

Had the situation not been so dire, she would've laughed at how someone as unqualified as her was performing a job that definitely should have been left to a professional. However, it seemed like only her words would be able to get through to the criminal in her backyard. But it had been a couple of minutes since she had made her offer to him…did he change his mind? Did he run away without anyone noticing?

A screech cut through the night air, answering her question.

"Hello…can ya hear me?"

The Simpson woman's breath caught momentarily at the gravely voice that came through the other megaphone. And so she faced her demons…

"Y-Yes…"

A humorless chuckle rang out. "Well, well…hello again, Marge. It's been a long time…toolong. Did ya miss me? I sure missed seein' your lovely face."

Marge's skin crawled at how silky his voice sounded; had it been Homer or any man but him, the goosebumps on her would've been ones of delight. Ignoring his question, she cleared her throat before holding the megaphone up to her lips again. "Jack, you're making a big mistake. I know… I know you came all this way to see me again but you're going about this the wrong way! Can't you just let the girl go and give yourself up?"

"Now Marge, you of all people know I can't do that. The second I step foot past this fence, my ass is either gettin' shot or sent to fry. Once I get what I came for, then maybe…just maybe I'll face the music."

She knew it wasn't a good idea. She should have just kept her mouth shut and kept pleading but the compulsion was too strong. Her mouth began moving before she could tell herself to stop.

"What…what did you come for?"

Silence.

"What I came for…is you, darlin'."

The blue-haired woman squeezed her eyes shut as her mouth turned down in a grimace. Next to and behind her, she could hear gasps of shock and the muttering of the nosy bystanders, speculating and making up their own scenarios for what Jack's words meant.

Lowering her megaphone, she whispered to herself. "So it is my fault…"

A meaty arm wrapped around her waist, causing Marge to look up and see her husband's face close to hers. His usually jovial face was now stern, his lips pressed into a tight line as his brow furrowed. "Marge, don't say that kind of stuff. This nutjob clearly has a few screws loose and is trying to get under your skin."

"Homer…"

"It'll be a cold day in hell before he gets to you. He's gonna have to go through me…and about twelve police officers before he lays a greasy finger on you!"

Marge's lips quirked a bit at her husband's semi-confident promise. "Thank you, Homie."

Turning her head to look at the house once more, her lips pressed tight as she tried to figure out how to take her next step. The smart decision would've been to pass the megaphone to the hostage negotiator to let him try to talk Jack out; but with the way he was acting, rationality wasn't going to work. With the gears in her head turning, the Simpson woman soon came up with her next course of action.

She brought the megaphone up once more. "Jack…if…" A lump formed in her throat before she swallowed to get rid of it. "If I…If I gave myself to you…in exchange for that girl…would you let her go?"

"Marge!"

"Mom?!"

Ignoring her family's protests, the determined woman's eyes narrowed. "If I walked into that backyard, looked you in your eyes and said 'you can have me', can you promise me that you'll let her go and let this madness come to an end? …Please."

~•~•~•~

"You can have me."

He couldn't believe his ears. Marge was willingly giving herself up to him. He was betting on his granny's grave that she would've put up some kind of a fight before she would dare go near him. His lips stretched into a voracious grin as excitement began to take over.

'This is goin' well…a little too well.' Jack's lips relaxed a bit as he became skeptical.

He knew from first-hand experience that not everything you wanted could be given to you on a silver plate. He could recall when he was young, one of the many nights his mother walked out after a violent spat with his father. Little Jack had asked him out of desperation why they couldn't be like a normal family for once. He remembered the strong stench of whiskey as the man leaned down and slurred in his face.

'We ain't normal, boy…ya want normal? Ya gotta go out and work for it 'cause ya sure ain't gonna find it here. People don't give shit out for free unless they want somethin' off of ya.'

Shortly after, the drunk told him to get out of his face before he gave him a beating for free. He was glad the bastard drank himself to an early grave.

Coming back to the present, he cleared his throat and raised the megaphone to his face. "Marge…how do I know you ain't lyin'? How do I know you're not just sayin' what I wanna hear so the pigs can take me down?"

His question was met with a few seconds of silence before the housewife replied. "Jack…I mean what I'm saying. No cops, no interference. I mean it with every fiber of my being."

The convict grumbled to himself as he weighed his options. Looking at his captive, he could see the girl was practically buzzing with adrenaline at the prospect of being let go. A part of him really didn't see the harm in letting her go; she was just collateral damage. But the other part of him screamed that something wasn't right and he was walking right into their trap. The promise of having Marge next to him was telling that negative part to shut up, though.

Taking in a deep breath, he made his decision.

"Alright Marge…I accept your proposal. But whatever business you gotta do out there, do it and then get back here. Then I'll let the girl go and we'll be on our way. But if I see those cops step foot near this backyard, I'll take this girl out quick."

"...Okay, Jack. Just…give me a few minutes." Satisfied with her answer, Jack dropped the megaphone to the ground and gave a low chuckle. His dreams were about to become a reality.

To his right, Alex's emotions were in overdrive as the situation began to sink in. She was this close to freedom but it was hard to be completely excited about it. Mrs. Simpson had given herself up in exchange for her. She wrapped her arms around herself as she gnawed her bottom lip. The woman who always invited her into her home with love and that she considered a second mother was risking her own well-being for her. One of her daughter's best friends! The thought almost made Alex want to cry.

She glared at her kidnapper while he smiled smugly to himself. This guy was bringing nothing but misery to everyone just for the sake of his own satisfaction. His crazed obsession. For a woman who most likely wanted nothing to do with his insane ass. And of course, he decided to bring herself into this madness, all because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Asshole…"

His head whipped as he heard a murmur come from the teen, his eyes narrowing a bit. "What was that?"

Shaking her head, she looked him in the eyes with a blank look. "Nothing."

Tapping the left side of his jacket pocket while staring her down, Alex rolled her eyes at his threat before looking at the wooden fence. Her gates to freedom and they were so close yet so far…

~•~•~•~

Bart was damn near shaking with fury.

Jack Crowley had taken their friend, their sense of safety and now he was planning to take his mother?! He was wishing he could get his hands on him and teach him a lesson on messing with his family and friends.

Speaking of family, he watched as the other three members argued amongst each other on Marge's decision to be a martyr. Homer's face was red with anger as he bellowed but with a closer look, his eyes could be seen brimming with tears. Lisa was shedding said tears for him instead as she wrapped her arms tight around their mother's waist, begging her not to go. Bart felt for his sister; she must have been conflicted. As badly as she wanted her best friend back, she never would've dreamed that she'd have to give up her own mother in exchange.

He turned away and stared at the house as he racked his brain for ideas, no matter how desperate they may be. Jack had to be stopped somehow but without the cops getting involved. The Simpson boy believed him when he said he would kill Alex if there was any interference. After a few minutes of deliberation, Bart came to a decision.

He'd have to take matters into his own hands and save Alex himself.

The blond wasn't stupid…at least, not as stupid as everyone thought. He knew it was extremely risky for a teenager who got his only exercise in gym to face off against a seasoned convict who had a few kills under his belt. But as much as he tried, that daredevil in him told him to try to be a hero, even if he ended up getting hurt. If he got out of this alive, hell, he would be able to sleep a bit better at night knowing he saved a life.

Sucking in a deep breath, he let it out before walking over to Donny, Nelson and Milhouse. "Hey guys."

Stopping their conversation, the three looked at their friend with thinly-veiled sympathy. "Hey man…sorry this got wild…"

Milhouse nodded in agreement with Donny. "Yeah Bart…I know your mom is always doing stuff for others but this is insane."

Nelson grumbled and kicked a nearby rock away, still stewing with hatred. "Mrs. Simpson's a nice lady…can't believe this jackass is bringin' her into this mess…"

"Actually…" Bart swallowed hard and lowered his voices enough for only them to hear. "I kinda need you guys to do a big favor for me." To his expectation, the trio gave him confused looks.

"What is it, Simpson?"

"I…" Scratching the back of his head, he glanced at his feet before giving them all a hardened stare. "I'm gonna go and save Alex myself."

"Wh-"

Before Milhouse could finish his scream, Bart jumped forward and slapped his hand over his mouth before hissing. "Keep it down! You wanna blow my cover?"

Ignoring the blue-haired boy's muffled protests, he looked at the other two's surprised faces. "Look, I know what you guys are gonna say. I know it's risky and I know I'm a dumbass for even thinking about it but I can't sit by any longer! He's involving my mom now and I'm not gonna let him take her away!"

With his hand still on Milhouse's mouth, he watched as Donny and Nelson's expressions became conflicted before the latter spoke up. "I don't know, Simpson…can't ya at least let me back ya up? This guy wouldn't be able to take on two of us at once, ya know."

Donny nodded in agreement, his arms still folded over his chest. "He's got a point, Bart. Plus he's got a knife on him…I'm pretty sure he wouldn't think twice before gutting you like a fish."

Sighing in frustration, Bart shook his head. "I appreciate the offer guys, but I don't want you getting hurt because of me."

With nearly all of his strength, Milhouse tugged Bart's hand off before glaring at him. "Bart, are you crazy?! Why can't you just stay with us and let the cops figure something out?"

"Dammit Milhouse, stop being a wimp for once! Wouldn't you do the same thing if it was your mom instead?" After a receiving a blank look from his best friend, he rolled his eyes. "Alright, if it was Lisa instead." This did the trick as his eyes widened behind his bifocals before looking side to side nervously.

"Uh…oh…fine! Just be careful, okay?"

Smiling as Milhouse relented, he glanced behind him to see his mom and the police discussing the next course of action. "There actually is something you guys can do for me. I need you to distract them for a bit so I can sneak away." The boys pondered for a few seconds before nodding.

"Alright, we'll cover for you."

"W-We've got your back!"

"Go get Alex back, Bart!"

Satisfied that his friends were on board, Bart smirked and gave them a three-finger salute before turning to head to the backyard. "Oi, Simpson." He twisted his head around to see Nelson with his fist rubbing into his open palm. "You better give him a good thrashin' for me."

Nelson never failed to amuse him. "You got it, Muntz."

Happy with Bart's reassurance, the brunette grinned. "Alright men, let's go do our job."

Motioning them to follow with his hand, Nelson led the two other boys towards the group of cops. Once he saw them conversing, the blond waited until Wiggum and his subordinates had their eyes focused on the teens, especially Nelson with his aggressive arm movements, before he saw his opening and carefully snuck away. When he reached the fence that was adjacent to Flanders' house, he gave one more look behind his shoulder before sucking in a deep breath. This was the point of no return. He had to be smart with every step he took lest Alex or himself ended up hurt…or even dead.

Shaking the morbid thought out of his head, he quickly hopped over the fence, landing lightly on his feet and staying still as a statue. After a few seconds of silence, he pressed his back against the wall of his house, carefully scooting along until he was a few inches away from the corner. Peeking around the corner, his eyes narrowed as he saw the backs of Alex and Jack; he could practically see the tension in them.

'Alright Bart, it's time for you to use what little smarts you have. I've gotta wait until he walks away or at least has his back turned.'

As if whatever entity was up there answered his prayers, he heard Jack speak before fixing Alex with a hard stare. "Now, I'm gonna go up there and get my stuff down but I'll be right back to tie you down. …Oh, don't give me that look, I'm not stupid, brat."

The lightbulb went off in Bart's head as he saw an opening. Continuing to stay still and hidden, he watched the convict climb up into the treehouse before reemerging with a large loop of rope. He pushed the teen so her back hit the trunk of the tree and looped the rope around her body and the tree a couple of times before tying it into a knot. He gave the rope a few experimental tugs then grunted in approval before making his way back up into the treehouse.

'Now's my chance.'

Steeling his resolve, Bart quickly but lightly stepped over to Alex before stopping a foot away from her. "Alex…hey."

The girl's eyes widened at the hushed whisper before she looked around frantically, her eyes eventually resting on his familiar face. "Bart, wh-"

Quickly motioning her to keep quiet, he looked up at the tree and then back to her. "I'm gonna get you out of here, don't worry. We've gotta be quick though."

Biting her lip, she looked down at her confines with worry. Picking up on what she was trying to say, Bart pressed his lips together before patting his pockets down, hoping to find his Swiss army knife. Nothing. Swearing under his breath, he hastily scanned the backyard, hoping to find something to aid in Alex's escape. Thankfully, he spotted Homer's hacksaw lying on the grass under the kitchen window. He thanked his father in his head for being forgetful, for once.

After grabbing it, the teen began sawing at the rope, quickly yet efficiently. To his dismay, his hand slipped a couple of times, thanks to his sweaty palm but with a little more work, he managed to loosen the ropes enough to leave a few threads. Holding the thick ends with both hands, he used all his strength to pull the weakened threads apart, freeing Alex.

It took everything in Alex not to squeal in elation as Bart freed her from her confines. She knew that any loud sound could blow this whole rescue to smithereens. Throwing the ropes down to her feet, she gave her savior a grateful smile, despite her cheek still aching from Jack's blow. She couldn't help but give the tiniest of whispers. "Thank you, Bart."

Giving her one of his boyish grins, he took her hand into his and began leading her to the fence where he entered. Making sure to keep their steps light, the two teens were soon less than two feet away from freedom. The Simpson boy couldn't help but boast in his head at how smoothly this went.

'And to think the guys didn't wanna let me go! This was a piece of-'

A sharp blow to the back of his head knocked him down to his knees, pain blossoming and spreading throughout his body. "Bart!"

Alex's horrified cry sounded before a gravely voice cut through. "You sneaky little shit. Thought you could play hero and I wouldn't notice, huh?"

Blinking the spots of black out of his vision, Bart turned to see Jack towering over him, a crowbar nestled tight in his fists. His sneer twisted further at the boy. "Your mama's comin' peacefully and yet you pull this stunt? You must have a death wish, boy."

Glaring up at this attacker, the blond growled out through gritted teeth. "I'll be damned if you take my mom from me. She's only doing it to save Alex, she doesn't give a damn about you, assh-" Jack made sure to shut him up with a boot to the face, knocking Bart onto his back on the grass. He groaned as he started to taste blood inside his mouth.

"Leave him alone, you psycho!"

Shortly after hearing Alex's indignant shout, Bart heard the sound of a scuffle and quickly looked up, gasping at what he saw. The fashionista was gripping onto Jack like a monkey on a banana tree, bashing her small fist on top of his head repeatedly. The convict didn't appreciate this sudden attack and began fighting to get the girl off of him by using his own fists on her though this didn't phase her.

She was sick of the hurt he had inflicted on her body. Sick of the hurt he had inflicted on the Simpsons. Sick of the hurt he was inflicting on Bart for doing the right thing. So sick that she was willing to ignore the pain for now.

Seeing that his face had an opening, Alex took the opportunity to bring a hand up and rake her manicured nails across his right cheek. Jack screamed out as four red lines appeared on it before using his right hand to ball into a fist and connect with the teen's stomach. The wind was knocked out of her and for a split second, Alex thought she was going to vomit. That became the least of her worries though as the convict took the advantage and pushed her off of him and onto the hard stone of the terrace. Before she could register the pain crawling up her spine, Jack was on her immediately and took to resting his boot on her throat, cutting off her breathing. Gasping, she began clawing frantically at his pant leg as she tried to get him off, but to no avail.

"I knew I should've just taken you out already but noooo, Jack, you just had to leave the kid alive!" Pressing his foot down more, he bared his teeth at the suffocating teen. "You should say your prayers while you have the chance, you little-"

He never got to finish his threat as a solid force connected with his side, knocking him down onto the grass. Opening his eyes back up, he growled in fury as Bart pinned him down by the shoulders. "Get the hell off of me!"

Bart pressed down further and turned to Alex, sitting up and coughing as she tried to suck air back into her lungs. "Alex, get out of here, now!"

"Bart, I-" A cough. "I can't just leave-"

"Dammit, don't worry about me, just go!"

At his bellow, the platinum blonde recoiled before shakily standing up and running towards the fence, looking back a few times before hopping over to salvation. Bart's celebration of seeing Alex get to safety was interrupted by a rough shove to his chest, pushing him off of Jack and back onto the grass. He quickly stood up and balled his fists in front of him, getting into a fighting stance as the criminal brought himself to his feet, his cold eyes boring into the teen's fiery ones.

Now that he was in front of the mastermind himself, the boy realized that the mugshots didn't do him justice. Despite only having an inch or two on him, Jack's body was packed with solid muscle from years of lifting in the yard; the black hoodie and t-shirt couldn't hide it. His muscular legs nearly made the dirty, baggy jeans he was wearing look like skinny jeans instead. The moonlight casted shadows on his rugged face, highlighting high cheekbones and frown lines from years of turmoil. Looking a bit closer, Bart could see a mattering of faint scars, some were small and straight, some were a bit larger and jagged. He swallowed. This guy could put Sideshow Bob to shame.

Jack smirked and chuckled humorlessly as he pushed back a few strands of hair, the cap on his head having fallen off during the scuffle.

"Life just can't give me a break, huh? My childhood was shit, my adolescence was shit, my adulthood continues to be shit. Then I meet this amazin' woman who doesn't see me and think 'what a disgusting individual'. She actually sees my talent and takes me into her home." He sighs wistfully. "Such kindness and warmth…and then it went all down the drain." His fists balled tight at his sides, the veins starting to pop through the yellow skin. "That pompous principal…if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have had to do what I did back then. Because of him, I ended up back in that hellhole called prison." He hissed that word out through clenched teeth.

Bart's eyes narrowed in confusion as the man rambled off. "Look, Skinner was an ass but no one told you to torch his car, man-"

Jack's face twisted in rage as he bellowed at the teen. "That bastard deserved it! Thanks to him, Marge hated me. She wanted nothing to do with me anymore. I still remember that look of disgust she gave me…I ruined my third chance." To Bart's surprise, a shadow of regret crossed the man's face as he looked down. "But I couldn't just let her go like that…surely she'd give me another chance. It was just a silly, little mistake."

Uneasiness began filling the Simpson boy's stomach as the convict looked back up with a crazed grin. "I could see her in my dreams, givin' me that lovely smile of hers and tellin' me to come back here. So I did all this work to come here and she's nearly in my grasp…" As he trailed off, his grin morphed into curled lips as his eyes narrowed further. "But it's one thing after another, after another, after another!"

Bart subtly backed up a bit, his fists still up. The man in front of him was starting to lose it; the mask of sanity on his face was slipping and anything could happen next.

"Well, I'll tell ya somethin'. I'm sick of all you sons of bitches keepin' me from gettin' what's mine! If I'm gonna go back to prison-" Jack reached inside the left side of his jacket pocket and pulled out a Bowie knife, causing the teen to swallow hard. "I might as well cause some collateral damage, eh?"

Now his expression was that of an unhinged man with nothing to lose.

Bart had to force himself not to cower in fear at the weapon the convict was brandishing but it was hard not to; the knife was nearly a foot long and hurt just to look at. He had to be careful with his next steps lest he end up bleeding out onto the grass. 'Come on Bart, think! …Wait. Where's that crowbar he used on me?'

Looking around with his eyes, he spotted the weapon lying adjacent on the grass next to the convict. If he could just get to it without Jack gutting him, he might get the upper hand. The second he finalized this decision, Jack lunged at him with a roar, causing Bart to sidestep to the left and narrowly miss the blade aimed for his torso. The man quickly recovered and turned towards the teen before striking again, holding the knife over his head this time and aiming for his face. Noting that he was a bit closer to the crowbar now, Bart purposefully jumped backwards to avoid the attack, placing himself in grabbing distance. 'Just a little more…'

To his delight, the criminal went straight with his jab this time, leaving Bart with the only option of ducking down to the ground. Before another second passed, he quickly reached out for the crowbar and wrapped his fingers around it before swinging upwards at Jack. The hit missed but it managed to give him some room as Jack stepped back a bit to avoid the attack. The Simpson boy jumped up and began fighting back with double-handed swings, putting as much of his strength into them as possible. Unfortunately, only two out of his five swings connected with his opponent's body; they barely seemed to faze the man anyways. Jack snarled at the boy before charging at him once more, managing to swipe the blade along the side of his right arm, cutting through the fabric and leaving a gash.

Bart cried out in slight pain as the cut began stinging. Blood started to soak his sleeve but he pushed aside his injury and swung towards Jack's head. The weapon managed to connect with the side of his head, causing him to let out a grunt of pain and stumble to the side a bit.

'Now's my chance!'

Taking advantage of the opening, Bart raised the crowbar higher and put his all into hitting the same spot once more. But before it could connect, the convict's hand shot up and grabbed the weapon, stopping it a mere few inches from his head. The Simpson boy's jaw dropped open.

'How the hell?!'

Shooting the baffled teen a sadistic grin, he used the momentary lapse and yanked the crowbar from him with minimal strength but Bart refused to let go. His tight grip caused him to stumble forward towards Jack and before he could realize his mistake, a thick fist came up and connected with his left eye, causing him to see stars. Another blow struck under his jaw, making him loosen his grip and fall back, ending up on the grass once again. As blood started to dribble out and down his lip, Bart sarcastically noted to himself how he was starting to get too acquainted with the greenery tonight. His quip was cut short as his attacker's shadow loomed over him. Looking up, he swore under his breath as Jack was now brandishing the crowbar, tapping the end of it into the open palm of his other hand.

"Looks like the tables have turned, boy. Now, let me teach you a little lesson before I slit your throat."

He gave no longer than a second of pause before he swung the object down onto the teen's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. "You shouldn't-"

The next swing connected with his non-injured arm. "Be interferin'-"

The next one made contact with his shin, pulling a shout of agony. "With grown folks' business!"

To solidify his point, Jack took a shot at the left side of Bart's torso. He was rewarded with an even louder cry, cackling as he was sure he cracked or even broke a rib or two. Satisfied with his lesson, he tossed the crowbar off to the side before walking back to where his knife lay. Picking it back up, he chuckled as the moonlight glinted off the blade; the stainless steel was only marred by a few spots of the boy's blood.

Bart couldn't remember the last time he felt such blinding pain like this; not even that time he jumped from the water tower could compare, at least he was knocked unconscious then. He was pretty sure a couple of his ribs were cracked or broken from the force of the blow. It hurt in so many places that it was torture to get up and flee from the psychopath. For a few seconds, Bart Simpson was sure he was going to die in his own backyard.

Jack soon came back with his trusted knife held tight in his right hand. He crouched down above the teen's battered body and shot him a cruel smile, his dark eyes deranged and thirsty for blood. "What's the matter, son? Can't move?"

The blond growled out through clenched teeth. "You asshole…even if you kill me, you're gonna get caught."

Jack tilted his head in mock confusion. "And? Like I said, you're collateral damage, boy. If I go back, I can at least tell everyone I took out some kid who thought he could play hero and I watched his eyes slowly lose their light." To say that Bart was extremely disturbed at the blissful look on the criminal's face would be an understatement. "It's a shame it had to be Marge's kid but what can you do?"

Anger bloomed inside the teen at how this man claimed to care for Marge but was doing one of the things that would surely break her heart. Defiant to the end, the blond spit into Jack's face, happy that some blood ended up in there. The man's face became blank as he wiped the spit off with his sleeve. With an eerie calmness, he backed up slightly before kneeling above Bart, raising the knife high above his head before holding it with both hands.

"Still a little bastard to the end…I'm sorry I have to take out someone with balls of steel. So long, kid."

With his muscles tensing up, Jack prepared to bring the blade down, aiming for the boy's heart. Bart looked up in slight fear as the situation began to sink in. He could no longer bear the sight and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable. How he hoped for a miracle.

'Dammit…someone, anyone, save me!'

BANG.

His eyes flew back open as a loud noise filled the night sky and was followed by a yell of pain. Gasping out loud, he saw Jack's hands now stained in blood and most importantly, without the knife; said object was lying next to him. Quickly trying to piece together what happened, he looked behind his body to see Eddie and Lou standing in the open gateway, their pistols held up high and aimed towards the convict. Lou's was smoking, signaling that he was the one who fired that shot.

"Jack, get off the boy and put your hands where I can see them!"

In his state of fury, Jack clutched his bloody hands to his chest and turned his head towards the cops, baring his teeth. "Fuck off, pigs!"

"Crowley, this is your last warning! Get off and step away from the kid or we will take you down!"

Standing up and turning around, the convict roared in rage, the veins in his neck bulging through the yellow skin. "Take me down? Take me down?! You coppers can't do shit to me, I'll slit this kid's throat! I'll slit all of your-"

BANG.

Jack's rant was cut off as a burning sensation started spreading from a point in his right pectoral. Looking down, he saw blood starting to seep out and soak his black hoodie. "W-What the-"

BANG.

One more shot rang out and the pain was now coming from his left knee, causing him to scream out and fall to his side next to Bart. "Son of a bitch!"

Eddie took the opportunity and quickly holstered his gun before running over to the criminal, grabbing him by the arms and pinning him face down to the ground. Pulling a radio from his belt with his free hand, he called for backup and let them know the threat was eliminated. In contrast, Lou ran over to Bart and carefully tried to sit him up, stopping when the teen cried out in pain. "Where does it hurt, son?"

"Ngh…my jaw, my shin…he got my ribs pretty good too…"

Eyes flashing with sympathy, the officer pulled out his own radio and called for medical assistance. After getting a response, he put it back and looked at the Simpson boy again. "What you did was very brave, Bart…" His eyes then narrowed as his face became stern. "But it was also very reckless. You could've been killed, kid! How would I tell your parents and sister that you died?"

The blond felt a twinge of shame at Lou's lecture, knowing that he had a point about this stunt he pulled. However, his busted lip curled up into a grin. "Wouldn't you have done the same thing if you were in my shoes, man?"

Lou grumbled a bit and looked to the side. "Well…yeah...but I'm trained for this kind of stuff and you aren't."

Bart shrugged lightly, wincing a bit at the agitation of his injuries. "Fair enough."

Within a few seconds, four EMTs came into the backyard with two stretchers. One half went over to Jack and carefully loaded him onto it before wheeling him out quickly. The other half came over to Bart and Lou and eyed the boy quickly to assess his injuries. "Son, do you have any broken bones or internal bleeding that you know of?"

"Yeah, I think something is up with my ribs…not sure if I'm bleeding or not."

Nodding at his brief answer, the two medics eased Bart up with the help of Lou to place him on the stretcher before strapping him in. At the teen's questioning look, one of them, a man in his 20s with cropped black hair, explained it was to limit his movement and to keep the fractures from worsening. Satisfied with that answer, Bart leaned back against the incline of the stretcher and waited until it was wheeled out to the front yard. Not even a second after they passed the fence, the faces of his family and friends showed up, expressions of anger, worry and relief mixed in.

Marge's cheeks were wet with tears as she sobbed. "Oh my baby, you're okay!"

Homer's face was reddened with anger but the worry in his eyes was potent. "Bart, you've done some stupid things in your life but this has to top the cake! You had us worried sick!"

Lisa's eyes were brimming with unshed tears as she tried to keep her composure. "Bart, you did something so idiotic…idiotic but noble!"

Their friends gave equally emotional responses but Milhouse seemed to be the most erratic of them all, fearing that his best friend was never coming back. The commotion was swiftly cut off by the other medic, an older man with graying red hair who looked like he was used to dealing with hysterical family members and friends. "Folks, I understand you're all happy to see him but we need to get this boy to a hospital for some X-rays, stat! Where are his parents?"

Homer and Marge held their hands up before the medic nodded at them. "You guys can come along in the ambulance with him."

"But wait a minute, his sister is here too! Can't she-"

"Mom, it's fine. Besides…" Lisa looked to one of the other ambulances where Alex was sitting at the end, being treated by a female EMT. "I think I should be there for Alex right now."

Marge's face twisted in concern as she looked back and forth between the two girls. "But…"

"Mom." Bart's voice spoke up quietly, bringing her gaze to her only son. "It's alright. I've got you and dad…Alex could really use her best friend right now."

Mouth opening and closing a few times, Marge accepted his words and nodded at her daughter. "Go be with her, Lisa. Give her my love." Nodding, Lisa gave her brother's hand a squeeze before running over to Alex with the rest of their friends.

After giving his goodbyes to his friends and a couple of joking apologies that the night went to hell (much to Marge's dismay but Homer's humor), Bart was placed into the ambulance with his parents on either side of him. As the EMTs began preparing IVs for him and pulled out charts to jot down his medical history, the teen looked out the small window and spotted Chief Wiggum giving an earful to a bleeding Jack Crowley. He was strapped into his stretcher as well, face painted with a dark scowl as his plans were foiled. Bart couldn't help but smirk to himself at how the criminal was currently suffering; it sure wasn't going to compare to the punishment he was going to receive once he was released from the hospital.

Getting caught up in his spying, he blinked in surprise as the vehicle started up and began to move. Until now, Bart didn't realize he had been holding his breath in since his rescue.

The nightmare was over and this was going to be one hell of a story for the future.

~•~•~•~

Hello, hello, hello!

So, uh… *wipes forehead* This chapter was hell to write, to put it shortly. I lost track of how many times I opened this document only to get distracted by other things or type only a paragraph. Quarantine gives you time to do things but the drive just isn't there some days.

I also was touching on new territory with the fight scene, I hope it was satisfactory. The most important thing is that Jack is finally done terrorizing the Simpsons! But what's coming up next for them?

Either way, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Reviews and constructive criticism is always welcome! :)