Disclaimer: I do not own The Simpsons characters; only the original characters listed in this fic.
I accept constructive criticism. c:
~•~•~•~
Bart was swearing up a storm under his breath. Swearing at Jack Crowley for his injuries, swearing at his brace, swearing at life, swearing at any passersby who eyed the boy talking to himself.
All because he left his phone upstairs.
He got scrambled up when packing his bag due to Mr. Seppel stating that they needed their textbooks for homework tonight. Making a mental note, he realized that he'd have to take home three heavy books in total, Calculus and Physics included. Luckily his locker was in the same hallway but he had to brainstorm on how he was going to grab everything and get to the elevator in time to make his bus; Donny left early due to a dentist appointment and the others were in separate classes. Making the decision to get up and out as soon as the bell rung, he eased himself onto his crutches and made his way out as quickly as he could. Unfortunately, he didn't notice the MyPhone sitting on his desk.
'Ugh, I don't need this crap right now. There's no way I can get myself up with all this shit I'm carrying!' Scowling at the elevator door a few feet down the hall, he didn't notice the figure approaching him from behind until they spoke.
"You look like you're going through it."
Freezing at the silky voice, Bart's eyes narrowed before he turned around to see Jessica eyeing him, her tote bag hanging from her shoulder and an inquisitive look on her face. "None of your business, Lovejoy."
She hummed and raised her eyebrow at him, clearly intent on finding out what his issue was. "You sure about that? You were staring at the elevator like it took your first born son."
"Look, I told you it's-" His voice rising in irritation, the Simpson boy's sentence cut off as his lungs expanding caused his two healing ribs to scream in pain. Alarmed a bit at the sharp breath he sucked in, the raven-haired girl stepped forward with a look of concern. "Bart? What's wrong?"
Composing himself after a few seconds, he waved his hand to her and straightened himself up. "M-My ribs…they're still pretty messed up…" Realizing that he was supposed to be standoffish towards her, his scowl returned, forcing her to step back. "Anyways, like I said, it's none of your business. I was just figuring out how I'm gonna get back up to get my phone with all this shit I'm lugging around."
Jessica frowned at his attitude and explanation. "And you're gonna get back down in time for the bus? With your crutches and heavy bag?" She sighed and shook her head before looking into his eyes. "Bart, why don't you let me help you go get it?"
"Hell. No. Why would I trust you of all people? Knowing you, you'll probably leave me locked in the elevator for shits and giggles!"
Her patience running thin now, Jessica's eyes narrowed at the stubborn boy, her hands resting on her shapely hips. "Bart Simpson, are you going to keep acting like a jackass and miss your bus or are you going to suck it up and let me help you out for once? I've gotta get home too, you know, I could just leave your ass here to fend for yourself but I'm going out of my way to help. Your choice."
Bart couldn't help but be a bit shocked as well as miffed at her mild outburst, having dealt with a timid attitude from her since her comeback (minus her bogus apology). Alas, he realized that she had a point and time was ticking away. With an irate sigh, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out the elevator key, holding it out to her. "Don't lose it, alright? I left my phone in homeroom."
Her pink lips tilting into a triumphant smirk, she took the key from him, holding it between her manicured fingers. "I'll treat it like it's gold. Be right back!" She wasted no time and ran down to the elevator, using the key on it and hopping inside once the lift arrived.
The blond kept staring at where the raven-haired girl previously stood, his thoughts running rampant now. Jessica was the last person he expected to do a favor for him today, especially after his treatment of her. He couldn't fully appreciate it though since he kept imagining all the worst case scenarios of what could happen. She could keep the key for herself and abuse the easy transport, she could steal his phone and attempt to hack into whatever he was hiding on there or even never come back, leaving the disabled teen to have to ask the office to call his mom for a ride. Hell, he wouldn't even be surprised if she said he owed her a favor now for her 'kindness'. Once a snake, always a-
"Here."
Jumping a bit at the sudden voice, he looked up from his head trip to see the object of it standing in front of him, his skull and crossbones case-covered phone held out to him. He slowly reached out and took it from her, wondering if he was caught in a dream. "Oh, uh, that was fast…thanks, I guess."
Rolling her eyes before shaking her head with a humorous smile, Jessica also removed the elevator key from her back pocket and handed it off to him as well. "Like I said, we've both gotta get home too." Taking her cue to leave, the teen gave him a wave before heading off towards the south exit to head home. Bart couldn't help but stare once more, even after she was gone, head trying to wrap around what just happened.
Jessica Lovejoy helped him out without asking for anything in return.
The idea would've made him laugh his ass off previously but now that it happened in front of his face, he couldn't so much as chuckle now. She had to be cooking something up, there was no way she didn't have some major plan brewing behind her good samaritan act! But Father Time was poking him in the neck and reminding him that he had a bus to catch and so he carefully walked to the same doors she escaped through and to his transportation.
After the usual ride and stops for other students, Bart reached 742 Evergreen Terrace. With no Lisa around right now (she had an orientation for her new internship), he had to ease himself down the stairs with care and make it to his front door without getting a crutch stuck in a crack or something. Ringing the doorbell, it only took a couple of seconds before the smiling face of his mother answered it, poorly hiding how she had been eagerly waiting for his arrival. "Hello sweetie! How did you manage getting on the bus?"
The teen shrugged as she bent down and helped ease his one shoe off. "I managed, it wasn't so bad. Just a couple more days of this damn brace and I'll be free, thank God!"
Marge murmured slightly at the minor profanity but brushed it off for now. "Hopefully it continued to heal well, now you'll have to get used to walking normally again." Setting his sneaker to the side, she stood back up and placed her hands on her hips. "Now, I'm sure you're hankering for some food right now, what'll it be?"
Looking up in thought, Bart shrugged again once more. "A ham sandwich and some chips sound nice, nothing too fancy."
Nodding at his request, Marge helped him over to the family room couch (much to Bart's protests) before walking off into the kitchen to prep his meal. Leaning back into the cushions with a sigh, the Simpson boy grabbed the remote and switched the TV on, grinning as he saw a marathon of old Itchy and Scratchy episodes were on. However, as he watched the cartoon violence, his mind drifted off as he reflected on how much things had changed since that fateful night.
For the most part, his issues stemmed from physical injuries rather than mental trauma. It was extremely inconvenient to go about his daily activities and keep in mind the parts of his body that were still healing. His concussion had disappeared after a few days of close monitoring, his bruises were yellowing and his cuts had scabbed over. However, the most annoying part was his ribs; every wrong move, laugh or cough and too deep of a breath brought him stinging pain. He almost had a laughing fit the other day when Milhouse accidentally took a bite into one of his dad's wasabi spread sandwiches and ran around sweating bullets and chugging water. Sadly, he had to hold it back or else he was sure he was going to have to go back to the hospital.
Although, putting that aside, he had to wonder if his stubborn mind was downplaying his current mental state. He hadn't told anyone but once his painkillers finished, his nights were no longer full of straight sleeping and consisted of a few nightmares. The scenarios that occurred in them were always different but it revolved around one theme: Jack hurting or killing one of his friends or family members. The first time it happened, Alex was the victim and instead of getting away like she did, her body was lying on the grass, broken and bloodied; some of her limbs were bent at an unnatural angle. He had tried calling out to her in desperation (it felt like his body was being held down by an unseen force) but her hazel eyes were half-lidded and stared right through him. Jack was standing above her with his knife, gleaming in the moonlight and speckled with drops of blood. His scarred face was stretched into a malicious grin, eyeing the injured girl like a lion watching a wounded gazelle. But before he pounced, his head turned to give Bart the most menacing look while his gravelly voice spoke.
'Some hero you turned out to be, boy.'
And then in slow motion, he gripped the knife with both hands before raising it and plunging it down towards his victim. But right when the tip pierced the skin, Bart woke up with a start, skin drenched with sweat and a scream caught in his throat. After taking a few deep breaths to calm down his rapid heartbeat, the Simpson boy would lie back down and close his eyes, falling back into a restless sleep. Sometimes it would be within minutes, other times it would be hours (to his annoyance, too often he saw the first crack of sunlight before sleep claimed him). But the nightmares continued each night, with him being helpless to help whoever was in trouble.
Next it was his mom. Then it was Homer. Then Lisa. Then Maggie. Then Milhouse. And the new faces continued cycling through everyone he knew and loved.
His eyes were often left bloodshot and his appetite had dwindled but when his mom asked why he was like this, he would just blame it on the pain from his wounds, keeping him from a proper sleep. She somehow managed to take the lie and offered to get another prescription for him but he refused, stating that he didn't want to risk getting addicted to them. Bart was sure this could be solved by simply telling someone about what was happening but his pride and ego was an obstacle in itself; his fear of being ridiculed or pampered even more than he already was was a reality he didn't want to face any time soon. He was damn sure his parents would try to send him to a therapist and the blond was never the kind to sit still in some overpriced leather chair while some shrink pretended to care about his problems.
Keeping it in for a few more days wouldn't hurt him.
~•~•~•~
It was Friday afternoon and Lisa sat in the passenger seat of her mom's station wagon, her right leg bouncing in place as she did her best to contain her anxiety and excitement. Before she knew it, it was time to begin her internship at the Lazy I Ranch.
The day after she had handed in her application to the guidance counselor, she had received a call on her cell from Luke, asking if she would be interested in starting on Friday rather than Monday. She had asked him why so soon to which he responded that he had a meeting on Monday and figured since she was familiar with the ranch, he would just have to give her a quick runaround and then they could do some work as part of her orientation. Lisa nearly jumped out of her desk chair at finding out she was basically hired. Thankfully, before he hung up, she remembered to ask him if there was a specific dress code; with a chuckle, he told her to wear something comfortable that she wouldn't mind getting a bit dirty.
Lisa looked over her outfit for the umpteenth time; after skimming through her closet and drawers (along with Maggie's help), she picked out a red and black flannel shirt she used for yard work, a pair of dark wash jeans that had a few bleach stains from science fair experiments and brown cowboy boots that Bart had gotten for her as a gag gift last year (only now she was wearing them). Satisfied that she looked the part of a ranch hand, she ironed everything and hung them up before going to bed. Unfortunately, her nerves refused to let sleep claim her until almost an hour after her intended bedtime. Luckily, she had gotten up on time and prepared herself for the school day and the new job. Of course, her outfit of choice had gotten some humorous comments from her friends (minus Alex, who usually would be the first to say something, much to the blonde's dismay) and resulted in Lisa waving her plastic fork at them in mock threatening.
"We should be there in five minutes, sweetie. I never thought we would be visiting this ranch again! It seems like yesterday we escaped to get away from that awful song…"
Lisa smiled at the memory. "Tell me about it. I wasn't really jumping to go here but a lot has changed since then so I'm willing to give it a chance."
Marge nodded with her own little smile as well. "That's a relief. But…" The teen turned her head to see her mom with an uncertain expression now. "That man who hired you, Mr. Stetson, would he happen to be that boy you had feelings for back then?"
The blonde looked to the side for a second. "Um…he actually is. His dad is a co-owner of the ranch and he got upgraded to senior wrangler so they made him the internship recruit. Mom, why do you ask?"
"Oh, no reason! It's just, well…how do I put this? I just hope when I say 'had' feelings, I'm using the right term?"
At her implication, Lisa's jaw dropped and her cheeks reddened. "Mom! N-No, no, I don't like him like that anymore! B-Besides, he's older than me, not only is it weird, it's illegal!" Marge's eyes widened at her daughter's outburst before she quickly waved her hand in the air. "Honey, relax! I just want to make sure all intentions on both ends are professional and innocent, I'm sorry if I upset you…"
The teen's body relaxed, shoulders sagging as she got her emotions back in check. "I-It's alright, mom…trust me, I'm doing this to get some work experience, not dating experience. It was a childhood crush, nothing more, end of story." Under her breath, she mumbled. "Besides, he's probably only being nice for professional reasons…"
Not having heard her daughter's comment, Marge gave a firm nod and pressed her lips together, the rest of the ride shrouded in awkward silence. The blonde couldn't believe this subject was brought up by not only her friends but her mother as well; was that what they really thought she was aiming for? Thankfully, the wooden arch with the iron letters forming the ranch's name appeared, making Lisa give a silent 'thank you' to Buddha for ending this tension. Once the car pulled to a stop, she gathered up her backpack and turned to her mom. "Well, here I go…time to get a taste of actual working life…"
Marge smiled and patted her shoulder. "Good luck, dear. You're going to do great, I just know it. And if you need anything, don't hesitate to call."
"Thanks mom, see you at 8!"
Hopping out of the car, Lisa gave a wave to her mom once more before turning and facing the ranch, sucking in a deep breath. As soon as she let it out, her heartbeat began to race. Seven years ago, she had come here unwillingly with her family, denounced its problematic nature, met and fell for a nature-conscious boy, nearly led a girl to a watery grave and got her heart broken in just a week. Now she had returned of her own volition and hoped that things would go smoothly.
Readjusting her backpack straps, she began walking into the ranch, taking in the sights. It looked like not much had changed in appearance, minus some minor renovations and paint jobs. 'No more cow tongue barrels, either.' Smiling to herself at the observation, she recalled Luke's instructions and headed to the visitor check-in, clearing her throat as she approached the receptionist who was typing away at her computer furiously. The woman looked up in surprise before her red lips stretched into a friendly smile.
"Hello there, darlin'. Forgive me, just tryin' to sort out some mishaps. How can I help ya?"
"I'm Lisa Simpson, I'm here to intern with Luke Stetson. He said to just mention that at the front desk and wait."
The receptionist clapped her hands together in delight and quickly stood up from her chair, her cowboy hat nearly falling off in the process. "Oh yes, he mentioned we were gonna have a wrangler-in-training! Just wait right here darlin', I'll go grab him for ya." Before Lisa could give her thanks, the woman ran off in a blur of green and denim, leaving the teen alone in the room. Tilting her head at her eagerness, the blonde shrugged and looked around, studying the surroundings as she waited. The wooden interior gave the reception area a rustic yet cozy feel, lined with (what she hoped were) faux fur rugs and knitted tapestries along the wall. Above the desk area, there was a row of identical dark wooden frames with a different picture in them. After seeing some of the same men in the first couple of pictures, each looking older in the following ones, Lisa deduced that these had to be pictures of the ranch's owners over the years. She kept looking at each one until she saw one with three men in it, one of them holding a little boy up on his shoulders. The boy looked to be no older than four and had light blond hair peeking out of a ten-gallon hat on his head and a beaming smile on his chubby face. The teen couldn't help but smile at the precocious picture; it grew wider when she looked at the next two and saw that same boy, taller and starting to near the height of who she presumed to be his dad, and realized that Luke was the boy. 'Aww, look how cute he was!'
Libido: But not as cute as he is now, hehe!
Conscience: Libido, how the heck did you escape your cage?! Get back in there!
Libido: You'll never silence me, ruthless oppressor!
A clearing of the throat brought the Simpson girl back to the present, causing her to jump as she looked to her right and saw said boy standing next to her, looking amused. "Sorry to scare ya, didn't want to keep ya waitin' any longer."
Lisa smiled bashfully and shook her head. She couldn't help but notice how his light blue Western shirt brought out his eyes. "No worries, Luke. I was just admiring the decor."
Following what had caught her attention, he looked up at the frames and groaned. "Aw shucks, ya saw me in those pictures, didn't ya?" At her nod, Luke's cheeks flushed a bit as he reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "Dangit, I told pop he should change that…"
As he complained, the receptionist returned and clapped a thick hand on his shoulder. "Hey kid, I keep tellin' ya, it could've been worse. Heck, it could've been the one picture where you're in nothin' but your hat, boots and a diaper!" The woman threw her head back and roared with laughter, prompting Lisa to giggle as the man's cheeks darkened further.
"Martha, you're lucky I love ya. Anyways, I gotta get Lisa settled in before it gets too late."
"Alright, alright, don't let me distract ya. Good luck Ms. Lisa and if the boy gives ya any trouble, you just come lookin' for Martha, yeah?"
Luke gave the woman a look of mock annoyance while the teen returned her grin. "Thank you, Martha." Sensing that her new boss was getting sick of the woman's antics, she turned to him. "Lead the way?" Letting out a sigh of relief, the senior wrangler nodded and motioned her to follow him, walking back out of the entrance.
"Alright missy, welcome back to the Lazy I Ranch! I'm sure you've done your research before applyin' but I still gotta give ya the grand tour. So that was the visitor check-in building; Martha and Ruby take turns gettin' everyone settled in and out of their rooms on time." He then motioned to two buildings sitting next to each other, both larger than the previous one. "That's the dining hall and recreational area, we usually take our breaks in both of them." His hand then moved to a trail that led to rows of cabins. "That's the cabin area down there. Most are reserved for guests but us workers have our own designated ones. Some live far away so they can spend a night in case they're too tired to head home." Walking further down, the duo approached a familiar building that caused Lisa to swallow hard. "This here's the barn where we have our dances and typical hootenannies, depending on what we're celebratin'." Shooting the teen a pearly grin (causing her stomach to twist against her will), he tilted the brim of his hat. "Now to show you the best part of the place."
Curious as to what was next, Lisa followed closely as he led her to a more open, rural area with less buildings. She couldn't help but make a sound of awe as two, large and fenced-off areas ended up in her sight. The one on the left was half grass and half dirt, occupied with roaming chickens and pigs gobbling from a trough; it impressed her that they had such a large amount of space where the animals weren't on top of each other. On the right, it was mainly grass with large patches on the edges where cows were munching from. Noticing how intrigued she was, Luke spoke up. "So this is the free-range area for all the farm animals. The left is for the chickens and pigs and the right is for the cows, goats and sheep."
"Goats and sheep? Where are they?"
"Ah, this area actually stretches back further and goes up at an incline so they prefer hangin' out up there. I'll take ya in later and show them off, if ya want." Lisa nodded eagerly, bringing another wide smile to Luke's face. She was starting to get annoyed at how her nerves kept betraying her professional mindset.
"Oh, before I show ya the last part, ya know about how the natives are part owners now, right?"
Lisa nodded. "Yeah, I was pretty curious about that. Where are they exactly?"
Motioning her to continue trailing behind him, the older man walked away from the free-range area and down the trail to the area where she remembered the beaver dam used to be. Below the cliff area laid a gathering of tepees with a more modern building to the west with a large sign labeled 'Gift Shop'. Along with the natives, a few tourists were in the gathering as well, taking pictures of and talking to those familiar with the land. The area definitely looked more developed since years ago, the ground now a healthier shade of brown due to the lack of water and a trail twisting up the incline to allow a safer way to enter and exit.
"Wow…"
"Yup. Now that they got more land back and some funds from part ownership, the natives were able to spruce up their reservation and dip their toes into the tourism industry. They give tours to visitors, allow them to stay overnight in tepees and sell their own handmade goods in the gift shop down there. It helps keep them thrivin' and happy plus they can inform outsiders of their culture."
The teen was just itching to ask two questions that were bothering her. "And what about the whole trying on ancestral headdresses and lack of acknowledgement about the lost native lives?"
"They stopped that years ago and we helped donate a monument towards the fifty-six natives. It was tough gettin' all of their names but we managed and its one of the first things visitors see when they step into the reservation."
Lisa couldn't hide how impressed she was. "Wow, this place really has changed for the better. You know…" She looked up at him with a confident grin. "I think I'm going to like working here, Luke."
The blond threw his head back and laughed in good nature before giving the teen a mischievous smile. "Only like? Missy, I've got one more thing to show ya that'll change that like to love."
Curious as to what he was talking about, she followed him as he turned around and started walking past the free-range area. After a couple of minutes, what stood in front of her brought a sound of delight out of her; a long row of stables housing a few horses. "Oh, how could I forget about the stables?!"
Luke chuckled at her excitement. "I knew ya would like it."
All of a sudden, Lisa remembered something and looked at the other with curiosity. "That pony I rode back then, is she still…?"
Sensing her apprehension at the possible answer, he rested a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, she's still alive and kickin'. She's out on a trail ride at the moment but I can bring ya later when she returns. Gonna need a feedin', anyways."
Giddy that her pony (well, now a horse) was still around, she suddenly became hyper aware of the strong hand on her shoulder. 'Oh my...it's so firm and calloused…' Before her gushing could get out of control, the senior wrangler removed his hand and looked down at the watch on his wrist. "Well shoot, look at the time, we've gotta mosey on and start gettin' the cattle feed together. Let's go, missy."
Nodding at his words, she walked next to him as they headed back to the main ranch area. As hard as she tried, Lisa couldn't keep the pleased smile off of her face. Satisfaction at the ranch's changes and promises that weren't just for show bloomed inside along with the excitement of her first day of work. However, the rational part of her brain was chastising her for the couple of slip-ups regarding the handsome man next to her. She had hoped he would make a rude comment or express how disgusted he still was for her past antics but to her dismay, he was nothing but the typical gentleman, keeping it professional and telling her everything she needed to know about her workplace. It almost made her feel guilty for thinking that this man would still be holding a grudge after seven years but she had seen people being vengeful for more petty things before.
But to the teen's delight, the rest of the day went by smoothly as she was taught the ropes of the ranch, from sheep wrangling to hay collecting to delivering ingredients for the cooks. Maybe one of these days, she could ask Luke how he truly felt about her after all this time.
~•~•~•~
'Oh man, is it time to leave yet? I'd give anything to be done soon!'
Homer groaned after lamenting in his head on how slow the time seemed to be going today. There wasn't such a thing as an easy day at the plant anymore but today was particularly trying. He had to write up a few employees for being late more than once, two accidents occurred (which he had to fill out all the paperwork for) and they had run out of regular coffee, leaving nothing but decaf. The Simpson man would rather die than drink decaf.
Hearing his phone ring for the umpteenth time, he growled under his breath before picking it up and answering. "Simpson speaking."
"Homer, sorry to trouble you but I need some more details on Johnny's accident report before I sign off, can you come into my office?"
"Sure thing, Mr. Stoolwell."
Hanging up, Homer sighed before standing up from his chair and cracking his knuckles and stretching his arms in front of him. Even the comfiest chair in the world can become hell when you were confined in it for hours. Walking out of his office and a few feet down the hall, he stopped in front of the wooden double doors and knocked before opening them and stepping inside, shutting them behind him. He walked until he stood in front of his boss' desk. "Yes, Mr. Stoolwell?"
"Ah, Homer! I apologize for the interruption, I know you've got your hands full of other things right now but I just wanted some details to give to the insurance company so they can figure out how to deal with Johnny's medical costs." Before Homer could speak, Mr. Stoolwell made a slight sound of discomfort and gently hit his fist against his chest.
"Sir, are you alright?"
The man waved off his concern with a smile. "Ah, don't worry, son. It's just some heartburn, those gyros always do those to me. Now, about the report…"
As the two men conversed on what else needed to be done, the Simpson man couldn't help but notice that his boss' jovial personality wasn't matching with his physical appearance. His normally yellow face was a bit reddened and dotted with sweat at the edges (Homer spotted the damp handkerchief out of the corner of his eye on the desk) and his breathing was slightly labored, causing him to pause in his long sentences to catch his breath. After the report was done being looked over, Homer spoke up once more. "Sir, are you sure you're okay? You don't look so good…why don't I get you some water?"
The older man opened his mouth to insist he was fine but seeing his assistant so concerned prompted him to stop. "Well, that doesn't sound so bad right now, actually…"
Not wasting a second, the Simpson man ran over to the water cooler against the adjacent wall and filled a cup with the liquid before running back to the other, handing it off to him. Giving his thanks, Mr. Stoolwell quickly chugged it before placing the empty cup to the side. "Whew, thanks for that, Homer. I didn't realize how dry my mouth was."
"No problem sir. Here, let me go drop this off at-"
Homer was quickly waved away as the other stood up, holding the report in his hand. "No no no, you relax, Homer. I need to stretch my limbs anyway, they were getting a bit numb." Walking around the desk, Homer noticed that his breathing seemed to become more strained. "A little…walking could be…good…oof…"
Now the man slowed down and stumbled a bit as he made his way to the doors, ringing all sorts of bells in the balding man's head. Something was seriously wrong with his boss but he couldn't put his finger on the exact cause; the signs seemed very familiar though. "Sir, really, you should sit down, I-"
"N-Nonsense, don't baby me, Homer! I-I just…oh-"
Almost like it was in slow motion, Homer watched as the other began clutching his chest before his knees buckled, allowing his body to fall down onto the mahogany carpet. Giving one of his trademark screams, Homer ran over to his boss' body, kneeling down and resting his hands on him. "Mr. Stoolwell, what's wrong?!"
"M-My heart…ugh…it's like someone is squeezing it like a sponge…" Unable to talk any longer, Mr. Stoolwell curled into a fetal position as he desperately tried to deal with the onslaught of pain. Seeing how serious this was now, the Simpson man stood up and sped over to the desk phone, quickly picking it up and dialing 911. After he bellowed to the operator what was happening, they let him know that an ambulance was on the way and to keep a close eye on the victim.
Amidst all the chaos, Homer couldn't help but lament that this wasn't what he meant when he would give anything to finish the day early.
~•~•~•~
Marge sat up in the bed, her eyes glued to the TV across the room as a breaking news segment came on. Normally, she would be gasping and tutting at whatever the shocking news was but since her husband had called and frantically told her what had happened today, she merely watched as Kent gave the details on the hospitalization of John Stoolwell, owner of the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant.
While she was in the process of preparing dinner, the kitchen phone rang. She ran to answer it with a chirpy hello but the smile on her face faded as Homer's voice rambled in panic on the other end. Fearing that something happened to him, she quickly urged him to calm down and tell her exactly what was going on. To her slight relief, he said that he was fine but was on his way to the hospital; Mr. Stoolwell had suffered a heart attack right in front of him. Sympathy had flooded her at the news; she was much fonder of Homer's current boss than Mr. Burns and was aware that he had a wife at home as well, surely she was worried sick about her husband and his condition. Marge had offered to come to the hospital but Homer shot the idea down, stating that she should stay home with the kids in case he ended up coming home later than usual. Seeing that he had a point, she agreed and asked him to keep her updated on his boss' condition and give him her prayers.
That was nearly seven hours ago and the Simpson woman eyed the alarm clock, brandishing the current time: 11:56 PM. Her nerves caused her to let out a sound of worry, debating if she should give Homer's cell a call to see what was going on. She hoped to God the worst case scenario wasn't the reason for her husband's late arrival. Out of nowhere, the bedroom door slowly opened, revealing a weary and slouched over man.
"Homer, you're back!" Jumping up from the bed, she ran over to him and grabbed his arms, hesitant to ask her question. "How…how is Mr. Stoolwell doing?"
Looking into his wife's eyes, Marge's heart sank at the exhaustion in them, fearing the worst. "He made it, Marge…just barely but he's still alive."
The sigh of relief she was holding came out heavier than expected as she moved her arms to wrap around Homer's waist. "Oh thank heavens! Y-You didn't call back after the first time, I-I thought he may have…"
"No, thank God. I was just trying to give the doctors all the details of what happened and keep his wife from having an episode in the waiting room." His own arms wrapped around Marge's waist tight before whispering. "He's gonna be okay, Marge…"
"Oh Homie…" The blue-haired woman could see and feel how shaken up he was from this incident. Had this been Mr. Burns instead, the Simpson man would have left the centenarian on the floor and went about his day like nothing happened. But because it was Mr. Stoolwell, the man who had treated him with nothing but respect and equality from day one, Homer had nothing but love for the man and was hurting at seeing the lively man hooked up to machines.
"Here, why don't you lie down? You deserve to relax after today."
Not disagreeing with her suggestion, Homer nodded and plodded over to his side of the bed, sitting down and kicking off his shoes before falling back against his pillows. A heavy sigh escaped his lips before he closed his eyes. Marge quickly joined and laid next to him, stroking her hand over his balding head. The couple sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the TV as the subjects switched from restaurant recommendations to an accident on the highway.
"Hey Marge…I gotta tell you something."
Turning her head, she tilted her head. "What is it, Homie?"
Looking to the side for a split second, Homer then looked back at her, his face now showing uncertainty. "The doctors said that my boss is gonna have to take it easy for a while…he's too old to be working those long hours, what with the way his heart almost gave out. Which means, well…someone is gonna have to take his position for now until he's cleared to come back."
"Oh really? I'm not surprised but how come you're telling me? Do you have to go find someone who can take over temporarily?"
"Actually, um…" At her husband's visible faltering, Marge's suspicion grew and her face became inquisitive. "That's the plan I was thinking of but the committee said that could take weeks, so, uh…I might have to fill that position for now…"
There it was.
At his suggestion, the blue-haired woman's expression morphed into one of disbelief at first. Thinking that he was merely throwing the idea out for fun, she opened her mouth to tell him not to worry about it. However, the wariness of his face and the way his eyes refused to meet hers turned her disbelief into exasperation. "Homer, you can't be serious right now. You're talking nonsense…look, you need to get some sleep and we can talk about it in the-"
To her shock, he sat up and gave her a defiant stare. "Marge, I am being serious! It only makes sense, I'm the next qualified person to take the job! Besides, I could get my own assistant to help so it won't just be me taking all the workload, so-"
"I can't believe you."
Homer's eyes widened as his wife folded her arms and stared at the TV now. "Wha? Marge, what's wrong?"
Her gaze returned to his but with fire behind them, her lips turned down into a glower. "I'll tell you what's wrong, Homer. For the last three years, I've had to deal with you being gone all hours of the day stuck at work, coming home and leaving when I'm sleeping and not seeing you for days at times! You keep promising me that you'll ease up on the workload and yet you haven't! Now you want to take on even more responsibilities? Why not just leave a bed at the plant, I feel like it's your second home, anyways!"
Grumbling under his breath at how fast the other became irate, his own temper flared as his hands curled into fists. "Marge, how many times do we gotta do this? You act like I'm doing this to avoid you and the kids or something, I'm just trying to step up and do what's right for once. This man has done so much for me, the least I could do is pay him back so he doesn't have to worry about the plant going down the crapper. Give me a break!"
"No, I will not! You said yourself that the committee can find someone else to take over, why not just wait it out until they come and keep doing what you're doing already?"
"And leave everyone to their own devices for that long? I might as well set the whole place on fire!" In his anger, he couldn't help the words that then came out. "It's nothing like being a homemaker, Marge, I've got three hundred kids to watch over instead of three!"
Homer knew he messed up when Marge gasped at his implication, insulted that he considered her job to be inferior to his. Before he could apologize, she leaned forward and poked her finger into his chest, baring her teeth. "Now you listen here, mister, I've been raising and feeding our kids more than usual since you took this position and you have the nerve to say that I don't work as hard as you?! How dare-"
A knock on the door cut their argument short.
The couple turned to look at the door, clearing their throats before Marge called whoever was knocking to come in. The door opened to reveal the small form of Maggie, looking between the two with caution. "Oh Maggie, what are you doing up still?"
"I was sleeping but I got up to use the bathroom. I heard Dad's voice so I wanted to say hi…"
Homer's heart couldn't help but sink a bit. Out of all the kids, he saw Maggie the least since she usually had an earlier bed time than her siblings; sometimes he would call on his break if the family was home just so he could talk to her a bit. Motioning her to come over, the girl quickly scurried over to her father's side of the bed before he picked her up, sitting her on his lap.
"Aw, thank you, honey. I'm sorry daddy's so late today…"
She shook her head. "It's okay, Dad. Mom said that your boss was sick and you were taking care of him."
Eyes darting to Marge for a second at her vague explanation, he looked at his daughter again and nodded. "Yes, he is sick but he's gonna be okay. Daddy managed to get him to the doctor so they could help him out." Wanting to change the subject (he didn't want the eight year-old prying for details that would give her nightmares), he grinned and poked her stomach. "I see you're wearing the Happy Little Elves pajamas I got you!"
Maggie giggled as he tickled her and fiddled with one of the buttons on her shirt. "Yup! Mom said I had to wait until it got colder to wear them and I had to turn the heat on in my room today so she let me!"
"Way to go! Now, I think those pajamas would be put to better use in bed, no?"
At his suggestion, Maggie groaned and pouted before sliding off his lap. "Okay, Dad. Are you going to be gone when I wake up?" Homer grew a bit uneasy at the how easily she asked that question (also because he could still feel his wife's piercing gaze on him). "I don't know honey…I might leave a little later than usual so I'll do my best to say bye, okay?"
Satisfied with his answer, the Simpson girl gave a thumbs up before hugging him once more. "Good night, Dad." She then ran to the opposite side to give her mom a hug as well. "Good night, Mom." Heading to the door, she waved at them before shutting it behind her, leaving a room filled with silence and tension.
Homer was secretly grateful for Maggie's interruption; he had a feeling that their argument would have gotten even worse and ended up with someone on the couch. Now that his exhaustion was finally starting to set in, he sighed heavily and stood up before walking towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna go take a shower."
"Homer…"
"Get some sleep, Marge."
Before she could speak again, the bathroom door had shut behind him, leaving Marge with nothing but the background noise of 'I Love Lucy'. Not in the mood to watch Lucy's antics, she laid down and turned onto her right side, staring at the window. Her vision started becoming blurry as tears began to fill her eyes though she quickly got them under control by shutting them; one managed to escape down her cheek though. These fights were becoming too frequent for her liking and always left her heart heavy and her mind with anxiety on what the next day was going to bring. Would Homer leave for work and never come back? Would she not allow him back in the house for breaking his promise once again? Or would they just carry on like nothing was wrong?
Those were the questions that plagued her restless sleep of the night.
~•~•~•~
"Alright folks, make sure you take your textbooks home with you and read sections 4-6 of the Cold War chapter! There's questions after each section so write or type them up and bring 'em in tomorrow! Enjoy the rest of your day!"
As soon as Mr. Seppel's instructions were done, each student began packing up their bags and made their way out the door. Bart eased himself up and onto his crutches once his things were in order before sighing in frustration at the empty seat next to him. Once again, Donny wasn't there to help him down; his dentist appointment earlier this week resulted in him having to get a couple of cavities filled today. Making a mental note to text Donny that he owed him big time, the teen began making his way out into the hall. Before he could start making his way towards the elevator, a familiar voice called out to him.
"Bart, wait up!"
Grumbling obscenities under his breath, he turned his head to see none other than Jessica making her way over to him, her hips swaying side to side. Bart mentally slapped himself for taking notice of them. The dark-haired girl stopped in front of him, raising an arched brow. "Flying solo again?"
"Mm…yeah."
"I see…want me to carry your bag for you?"
Bart sighed with impatience and waved her off before heading towards the elevator. "Jessica, enough of the babying. I've got everything under control, I don't need your help."
She followed close behind him, a small frown on her face at him brushing her off. "Are you sure, Bart? I think you might really need my help right now."
"What the hell? Quit bugging me, I told you, get lo-"
His bark was cut off when he reached the steel doors and saw one of the last things he wanted to see today: a piece of paper with the words 'Out of Order' written and taped on. "What the fuck, man? It was working when I came up for class!"
Jessica scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I tried to tell you but you kept blowing me off. I noticed the groundskeeper working on it when I went on my bathroom break and figured I'd give you a heads up."
"Oh, just great." The blond kicked the doors with his non-injured foot before staring daggers at the girl standing next to him. He hoped that if he gave her enough of a dirty look, she would give up and walk away, allowing him to ask anyone but her for help. But for those few seconds, Bart forgot just who he was dealing with as she returned his gaze with nothing but composure, the jade irises clear and piercing. Realizing that he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, he sighed deeply before turning his back to her. "Just help me get this off, okay?"
Her face now lit up in triumph as she carefully maneuvered his backpack off and slung the straps over her left shoulder. "Alright, lead the way. Just try not to fall down and break your other leg, okay?"
"Shut up."
The laugh she let out irritated him even more as he started heading to the stairwell with her, making sure to press himself as close to the wall as possible to allow others to pass by. Things were quiet between the duo until Bart finished the first set of steps. "How much longer until you get that brace off?"
"Tomorrow, actually. At least, if the doctor thinks I healed up right. Then I have to see a physical therapist for a few weeks to make sure I can still walk like I used to."
The raven-haired girl made an intrigued sound next to him, barely dodging a boy who was running down the stairs. "Must be a relief, huh? I'd lose my shit if I were in your position."
Despite his animosity, Bart couldn't help but chuckle humorlessly. "Tell me about it. If I have to keep this brace on and these crutches under my pits any longer, I'm gonna just throw myself out of a damn window."
Jessica 'tsk'ed and shook her head at his declaration. "Bart, I think you'd end up making things a lot worse for yourself by doing that. One leg brace is better than a full body cast, y'know?"
"Oh, wow, really? Thanks for your wisdom, master." He was expecting her to call him something deplorable for his harsh behavior but when he looked to the side, he only saw the girl roll her eyes before warning him to watch out for the discarded paper cup on the next step. To his surprise, his attitude was rolling off of her like water.
The rest of their journey down the three flights of stairs was like this; Jessica would ask a question or bring up a casual topic, Bart would respond either with short answers or sarcastic ones, much to the other's humor. But though the Simpson boy was loathe to admit it, he was getting deja vu of the good times they used to have together back then. Instead of vandalizing brick buildings though, they were merely talking and taking their sweet time getting down the steps. Her quick wit was still there after all this time as she met his rude responses with quips or humorous words and her smile seemed less flirty and more relaxed…almost like she was happy just to spend time with him. Even worse, he couldn't deny that the minister's daughter had become even more beautiful with age. She had also filled out in all the right places…
It took everything in the blond not to physically shake his head; no amount of reminiscing could erase what she had done. He was supposed to be angry at her!
'Why the hell did you let her help you, man? You could've told her to get bent and ask someone else to help you down. But nooo, you accepted and now look at you, you're checking her out and thinking back on the 'good 'ol days'! You're such a dumbass, Bartholo-'
"Helloooo, earth to Bart Simpson!"
After his inner self decked the voice in his head for berating him, his eyes widened as Jessica waved her hand in front of his face. Looking around, he was shocked to see that they had already reached the first floor. 'What the hell, was I out for that long?'
"Oh, uh…I guess we made it down safe?"
The other teen placed her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "No Bart, we both fell down the stairs, snapped our necks and are now in purgatory, which happens to look a lot like our high school."
"...I deserved that."
Jessica looked surprised that he wasn't acting like a smartass for a second before her smile came back. Not wanting to keep him back any longer, she began taking his bag off of her shoulder before he held a hand up to stop her. "Hold up."
"What's wrong? Don't tell me you forgot your phone again."
He shook his head, swallowing hard as the head voice came back and started screaming at him for what he was about to do. It should've been common sense for Bart to just take his bag, give a quick 'thanks' and head to his bus. But something had been itching at him since that day she had cornered him and apologized and he wanted to get to the bottom of it instead of making up all kinds of scenarios. It was always better to get it straight from the source itself.
"No, it's in my pocket. Look…"
Looking around and seeing too many people roaming around for his liking, he motioned for the girl to follow him back into the stairwell. Although she looked confused at his request, she complied and walked with him to the very back, away from the foot traffic. "What is it?"
"Jessica…just what is it you're up to?" At her puzzled exclamation, he quickly continued with his question. "I mean, helping me out with getting my phone last week, carrying my bag for me down the stairs today, not telling me off for being a dick to you…what's the deal?"
Thinking that he was setting her up to coldly rebuff her once more, the raven-haired girl steeled herself to snap at him until she saw the genuine look of bewilderment on his face. Relaxing with a sigh, she leaned against the concrete wall, folding her arms across her chest. "Bart…you can choose to believe what I'm about to say. If you don't, I don't blame you." Her jade green eyes met his blue ones with intensity. "I really am trying to do better this time around. My reputation still precedes me after all these years and well…in case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly winning in the 'making friends' department right now. Honestly, I don't give much of a shit about that, I've never been able to make and keep friends for long." She then held one of her hands out, motioning at his person. "I only give a shit about changing your mind."
The Simpson boy's head tilted as she continued on. "That first apology of mine was so stupid of me to do…to think you'd just be like 'Sure Jessica, I forgive you for getting the town to hate me and refusing to confess because you wanted daddy's attention!'." She let out a bitter chuckle at the memory. "You're a simple guy, Bart, but you're not stupid, especially when it comes to your feelings. Which is why I want to propose this-"
Jessica pushed herself off of the wall and straightened up. "I'll keep acting the way I have since I returned and help you out- whenever you desperately need it, of course- and you just keep observing. Like I said before, I'm not going to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness. The only way I can change your mind is if you come to that conclusion yourself."
Bart raised an eyebrow. "And what happens if I don't?"
Her glossed lips turned into a smile that contained a hint of sadness. "Then our little story is over for good. I'll leave you alone from now on and we'll both go our separate ways."
Bart thought his emotions before were conflicted but now he was extremely unsure. On the one hand, he could brush her off for the final time and consider her sob story to be complete bullshit; it was just a way for her to get her claws into him once again. On the other hand, the tone of her voice, the downcast expression and her words caused his heart to twinge in sympathy a bit. He had noticed since she came back that she always sat by herself at lunch and never seemed to talk to any other students outside of helping with classwork. Taking the blame for the poor timing of her first apology also softened him up a bit, seeing as how she had snapped at him for not accepting it. But that last promise of hers was intriguing; if he decided that she was merely putting on a show of redemption to get in his good graces, he could have her out of his life…well, at least outside of classes with her. The thought was tempting yet there was a part of him that wondered if he should give her that second chance she was dying for…there was only one way to find out.
"Alright."
At his voice, the raven-haired girl's eyes widened. "I'll keep an eye on you from now on…but one slip-up and we're through, Jessica."
Jessica sighed in relief and pressed a hand to her heart. "Thank you, Bart…I promise I won't disappoint you."
Nodding at her promise, Bart thought better of it for a second but then held his right hand out to her. She eyed the appendage in confusion for a second before a realization dawned on her, prompting her to reach her own out and clasp it, noting how calloused and larger it was than her own. The two firmly shook on their deal yet neither let go. The blond looked at them and couldn't help but notice how soft her hand had felt. Cursing at himself for that last thought, he looked up to tell her to let go now but the words died before they could leave his open mouth. Her jade green eyes were boring into his face with such emotion that it took his breath away, making him forget their current status. He felt like he was ten again, after that disastrous dinner with the Lovejoys, standing outside in the dark with her. The boy was convinced he blew his chance at dating this beautiful girl until she spoke in a wicked tone.
"You're bad, Bart Simpson."
"No I'm not, I'm really-"
She stepped closer. "Yes you are, you're bad…and I like it."
His blue eyes locked onto hers with pleasant surprise. "I'm bad to the bone, honey."
Ding!
"Attention students. Due to unforeseen circumstances, buses 4, 28 and 57 will be running about ten minutes late today. Please continue to wait on school grounds until further announcements."
The volume of the PA system caused the duo to jump and break the trance they had on each other. Bart shook his head furiously before letting go of Jessica's hand, looking away with reddened cheeks. 'Bart Simpson, blushing? What is this girl doing to me?'
Thankfully he wasn't the only one embarrassed as the other ran her now released hand through her dark locks, cheeks slightly rosy as she cleared her throat. "Are you stuck here?"
"H-Huh?"
"They said buses 4, 28 and 57 are running late, are those any of yours?"
"D'oh!" The blond smacked his forehead. "Yeah, it is. Guess we rushed down for nothing."
Jessica hummed. "Oh, I don't think it was for nothing."
Before Bart could ask her what she meant by that, she eased his backpack off her shoulder and held it out to him. "I'd like to hang out with you some more, Bart, but I promised the Rev I'd get home early enough to help with…sermon ideas."
The Simpson boy grabbed his bag and couldn't help the smirk on his lips at the sheer disgust coming from that last part. "Sucks to be you, Lovejoy."
"Tch, like a vacuum. Later." Giving one of her trademark smiles, she waved with her fingers before turning to head out of the stairwell. Now that she wasn't in his presence, Bart ended up releasing a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Somehow, he ended up talking to and being around Jessica Lovejoy for more than five minutes without cursing her out or giving her hints to get away from him. Now he really wondered whether her little purgatory joke was real or not, there was no way he would do this unless he had died. Although, the offer she had made was pretty fair; he'd just have to be wary and make sure she was being genuine in her good deeds and not doing it only to impress him. The only way someone could show that they had honorable intentions was if they helped anyone in trouble, regardless of whether they benefited them or not.
'Guess we'll have to wait and see if Ms. Jezebel has turned a new leaf.'
The blond readied himself to walk out to the exit to sit on the steps and wait until he spotted a familiar figure stepping off of the stairs. Her platinum blonde hair was in uniform curls as always and bounced as she walked away from him; before she could get too far, he shouted her name.
"Alex, wait!"
The girl jumped visibly at the sudden noise and turned to see who was shouting like that. Seeing that it was Bart, her cautious expression morphed into a relieved one. "Oh, Bart, you scared me! What are you doing hiding in the back of the stairwell like that?"
"Oh, I was…talking to someone just now. Shouldn't you be on your way home by now?"
Alex reached a hand up and nervously twisted a curl around her index finger. "Um, usually but uh…Winston said he's stuck in traffic so I took my time getting ready." The shaky tone of her voice wasn't lost on Bart but not wanting to pry, he brushed it off for now. "Gotcha. My bus is running late, actually, I was just gonna go hang on the steps for now." Adjusting his backpack, he gave the other a two-finger salute before starting to head off. "Welp, see ya around, Alex."
"...Bart, wait."
The Simpson boy stopped in his tracks, just before he exited the stairwell, and looked behind him. "What's up? Something you wanna tell me?"
"Yes, I…um…" Her mouth opened and shut multiple times before she managed to get anything out. "I do have to tell you something…it's about, well…that night."
He couldn't help the way his body stiffened at the reminder of what the two teens had gone through.
The subject had become taboo to him in the last week and he had begged everyone he knew not to bring it up anymore, covering his anxiety up with a facade that acted like he was bored of talking about it. The truth was that his palms started sweating and his heartrate skyrocketed any time it came up; it was almost like he was transported back to that night he had faced the madman known as Jack Crowley. The night he nearly-
Sucking in a sharp breath, Bart turned back around and eased back into the stairwell, lowering his voice. "What about it?"
Alex bit her lower lip and avoided his gaze for a few seconds before managing to return it. "I…I haven't been able to talk to you since then so I just wanted to know…if you were okay? W-well, aside from…" She motioned to his crutches and leg as she trailed off.
Forcing a goofy smile onto his face, the blond shrugged and playfully wiggled his brace-covered leg. "Oh, this thing? Heh, doctor said I should be free by tomorrow. Hopefully he doesn't change his mind and makes me wear it longer, I'd rather die than-"
"Bart."
The smile on his face dimmed when her voice came out stronger, her hazel eyes boring into his with nothing but sternness.
"Are you okay?"
"Heh, Alex, I-I heard you the first time…I'm healing up…hell, my ribs are still giving me trouble though, I-"
"Dammit Bart!" The sound of her heeled boot slamming into the concrete floor echoed throughout the empty stairwell. "I'm not talking about your injuries, I'm talking about…about how you're feeling! Are you sleeping well, eating normally, going about your daily life like you didn't almost get killed by some maniac?"
Bart's eyes narrowed as he felt those unwanted feelings come back, gripping the handles of his crutches tight to keep himself composed. "I'm feeling just fine, Alex. You're worrying too-"
"Really? Are you sure you're fine? Or…" The fire in her tone was replaced with one of anguish and pain. "Are you putting on a brave face, pretending that you're okay when you're really not? Like…like me?"
There it was.
His heart sank lower than ever at the hurt showing in her hazel eyes as they looked up at him, Without saying anything more, he could see her begging him to confirm that her words were an unspoken truth. Bart tried hard, really, he did. But the buildup of stress, constant nightmares and physical and emotional pain that plagued him caused something in him to snap. His shoulders sagged in defeat as he looked down at his worn red Converses, ready to spill it all.
"...So you're suffering too?"
The shorter teen let out a mirthless laugh, nodding even though he wasn't looking at her. "Suffering doesn't even come close to it…every day that I wake up, I keep hoping what happened was just a bad dream…I keep thinking I'm still stuck in it and once I open my eyes, things will go back to normal…"
His head lifted, blue eyes weary. "But it's not a bad dream…it actually happened and we have to carry on with life…right?"
"Yeah, that's exactly how I feel…but…" Alex wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head. "No matter how hard we want to act like we can just laugh and brush off that crap-"
"It's not possible."
Once Bart finished her sentence, the platinum blonde's hands tightened on her arms, clutching the sleeves to get some sort of comfort. They continued to stare at each other with tense silence, understanding that Jack's attack had affected them more than they knew. The two of them had too much pride to ask their family and friends for help; either they pushed away their concerns or put on a faux smile to show that things were as normal as could be. But now that they had finally interacted with each other since that night, everything they were feeling was put on the table. Licking his suddenly dry lips, Bart broke the silence with a quiet voice.
"Lise…she's been real worried about you."
Alex sighed shakily. "I know…I know. All the girls have been…but I keep pushing and pushing them away…" Her voice wavered now. "They care so damn much and I-I just…I just don't want to be treated like…"
"Like you're…delicate? Fragile?"
She nodded. "Exactly! I'm still Alex Whitney, dammit! I'm a fifteen year-old girl who knows fashion like the back of my hand, n-not some porcelain doll that you can only look at and not touch!" Her momentary outburst was heated but it was quickly extinguished as she sighed again. "I want that so bad…but I don't think other people see that."
The Simpson boy watched the girl in front of him closely, her emotions fluctuating wildly as the buildup from the last two weeks started coming out. It was almost like he was watching a manifestation of his own feelings. Hearing no more words coming from her, he took in a deep breath and let it out before resting a hand on her shoulder. Until he could vent, he had to be the one to give her some rational advice.
"Alex, listen to me." She looked up at him. "I know how you feel…you're angry, scared, anxious…you want everyone to keep treating you the same way they did before. You just want it all to be normal...but I'm gonna say something that we both need to hear." His blue eyes steeled a bit. "The fact is that we almost died. If the cops hadn't stepped in that night, we'd both be six feet under right now. Everyone is acting like that out of fear and love…sometimes when you lose someone important, you think to yourself that you should've been nicer, helped them out more, or lent an ear more often." His grip on her shoulder tightened a bit. "They want to make sure that if we did kick the bucket that they had no regrets about how they treated us and that they did their damn best in showing they care. So we'll have to suck it up and stop holding it all in…we have to tell them how we're really doing."
With his words sinking in slowly, Alex's eyes narrowed as she processed them. What he was saying was getting to her more than the shallow condolences of strangers or the heartfelt worries of her good friends. She began to understand why after a few more seconds of thinking; Bart wasn't just speaking to her, he was speaking to himself as well. Without getting too into detail, the teen was letting her know how badly he was affected.
'Of course…he's the only other person who understood what happened. He must've been hurting all this time also but didn't want to say anything out of shame.'
"Bart…"
Her manicured hand slowly reached up and rested on top of his before squeezing gently. "I get what you're saying now…it's not going to be easy but I'll…I'll do my best to let it out. I need you to promise me something, though."
Bart's head tilted. "What is it?"
Her gaze became stern and focused onto his. "You have to promise me the same thing…talk to someone, anyone, about what you're going through. Forget being embarrassed, prideful, all that bullshit. It's not worth your sanity. Actually…" The sternness softened a bit as her lips quirked up a bit. "You can always talk to me if you feel like no one is understanding…my ears are always open."
The offer brought a look of shock to the older teen's face before it turned into one of his boyish grins. "I'll hold you to that, Alex. And uh…the offer's open on my end too…but uh, I'm not exactly the best listener so I'll try but if I say something stupid then-"
Alex laughed before she cupped her hand over his mouth, cutting off his rambling. "Okay, okay, Simpson, I get it, you suck at listening. At least you'll try."
Bart chuckled at her gentle insult before realizing his hand was still on her shoulder. He knew he should he probably remove it but he didn't really want to break the moment they still had going on. He had known the fashionista for years through Lisa but they had never had any meaningful conversations outside of casual 'how's life' and advice for what to expect in the future grade levels. But confessing their inner demons to each other had lifted some weight off of his shoulders and left him looking forward to the possible vent sessions they could have in the future. To his luck (and slight annoyance), the PA system crackled to life once more.
"Attention students. Those who are waiting for buses 4, 28 and 57, they are now pulling into the south parking lot. Please make your way to your respective buses. Thank you."
The Simpson boy took the advantage and reluctantly took his hand off. "Looks like my bus finally decided to come."
"Lucky you. Oh, wait! Before you go…"
Bart raised a brow. "Yes?"
For a couple of seconds, Alex hesitated but then her arms wrapped carefully around the waist of the taller teen, her head resting close to his neck. In a barely audible whisper, she spoke with gratitude. "I never got to tell you in person…but thank you for saving my life. You really are a hero, Bart Simpson."
The sudden embrace threw him off but what she did next nearly gave him whiplash. Her lips pressed chastely to his cheek before the younger teen broke the hug and gave a wide smile, resembling her usual demeanor, her straight, white teeth showing. "Get home safe. Tell Lisa to call me when she gets back."
She readjusted her bag and began walking out of the stairwell before he could respond, her curls bouncing behind her and the clicking of her heels fading into the half-occupied hallways. Bart's mouth still hung open as he watched Alex disappear, his cheek burning slightly where she had kissed him. The word hero had been thrown at him by everyone since her statement on live TV but he had always brushed it off or downplayed it, stating it was just the right thing to do.
But hearing it come from Alex's mouth herself brought a large smile to his face and left him heading to his bus with a pep in his step.
~•~•~•~
Yo, yo, yo, new chapter!
I went through some serious writer's block while doing this one, even with my summary notes (I blame the heat and work life :|), but it's here! Looks like Jessica and Bart are making some progress and Alex and him finally talked to each other again. Things are also going smoothly for Lisa so far but I can't really say the same about Homer and Marge…you'll just have to wait and see what's gonna happen in future chapters.
As always, reviews are welcome!