Bart forced a grin and popped up to his feet. "I'll be right back," he said, and disappeared out the window.
Taking the luxury of going the long way--that is, across Europe and Asia--instead of the more direct route, Bart used his speed to get himself back under control. He was horrifically embarrassed that he had broken down like that on Cissie, even though he knew she didn't mind and only wanted to help. He had thought he was more together than that.
Grabbing the photo album from his desk at the motel, Bart zipped back to Pennsylvania and into Cissie's room, settling himself back on the floor, and opening the book across his lap.
"This is Shannon," he said, pointing to a picture of a woman with curly blonde hair and dark blue eyes, one eyebrow cocked towards the camera as she rolled her eyes, smiling in exasperation. "She hated having her picture taken, but I kept pestering her. And this is us getting married." Strangely enough, it wasn't weird at all to see himself at thirty. Bart decided not to think about it. "And this is when the twins were born," he said, turning the page over to a picture of two red-faced bundles with a shock of auburn hair on both their heads. "And their first birthday." The boys were almost dwarfed by their cake. Bart's head was only just visible over the top of the cake, his hands prominent only because he was supporting the twins' backs where they sat. "And this--" he broke off and had to clear his throat. "This is Halloween," he said, pointing to a picture of the boys, around age eight, dressed up as Robin and Superboy. "Thankfully, Conner was the one who wanted to be Robin, and Tim wanted to be Superboy. I don't think I could have handled it if it was the other way around. Even so, Shannon was the one who had to do most of the preparations that year." He shook his head, laughing. "It's still hard to see." After a moment, he flipped a couple pages, turning to when the boys were teens. "Their first cars," he pointed to two similar-looking sedans parked on a street, nose-to-nose. "They wanted a sports car, but Shannon wouldn't let them get it. I wanted a sports car too, but that was also shot down," he added with a chuckle. "Graduating high school," he pointed to the boys in their black robes, their signature Allen hair poking out from beneath their mortar boards, identical grins splitting their faces. "Going to college" Here they looked exasperated (an expression they had obviously gotten from their mother, Bart knew he could never pull off that amused irritation) and excited, obviously not listening to their mother as she explained something. Conner was looking imploringly at the camera (and therefore Bart), a duffel bag under his arm and Tim had his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised as he nodded at Shannon, not paying any attention to her.
"...And that's--that's as far as I've gotten," Bart admitted quietly, hand resting on a blank page. He blinked a few times, trying to stave off tears. He didn't want to cry again.
no subject
Taking the luxury of going the long way--that is, across Europe and Asia--instead of the more direct route, Bart used his speed to get himself back under control. He was horrifically embarrassed that he had broken down like that on Cissie, even though he knew she didn't mind and only wanted to help. He had thought he was more together than that.
Grabbing the photo album from his desk at the motel, Bart zipped back to Pennsylvania and into Cissie's room, settling himself back on the floor, and opening the book across his lap.
"This is Shannon," he said, pointing to a picture of a woman with curly blonde hair and dark blue eyes, one eyebrow cocked towards the camera as she rolled her eyes, smiling in exasperation. "She hated having her picture taken, but I kept pestering her. And this is us getting married." Strangely enough, it wasn't weird at all to see himself at thirty. Bart decided not to think about it. "And this is when the twins were born," he said, turning the page over to a picture of two red-faced bundles with a shock of auburn hair on both their heads. "And their first birthday." The boys were almost dwarfed by their cake. Bart's head was only just visible over the top of the cake, his hands prominent only because he was supporting the twins' backs where they sat. "And this--" he broke off and had to clear his throat. "This is Halloween," he said, pointing to a picture of the boys, around age eight, dressed up as Robin and Superboy. "Thankfully, Conner was the one who wanted to be Robin, and Tim wanted to be Superboy. I don't think I could have handled it if it was the other way around. Even so, Shannon was the one who had to do most of the preparations that year." He shook his head, laughing. "It's still hard to see." After a moment, he flipped a couple pages, turning to when the boys were teens. "Their first cars," he pointed to two similar-looking sedans parked on a street, nose-to-nose. "They wanted a sports car, but Shannon wouldn't let them get it. I wanted a sports car too, but that was also shot down," he added with a chuckle. "Graduating high school," he pointed to the boys in their black robes, their signature Allen hair poking out from beneath their mortar boards, identical grins splitting their faces. "Going to college" Here they looked exasperated (an expression they had obviously gotten from their mother, Bart knew he could never pull off that amused irritation) and excited, obviously not listening to their mother as she explained something. Conner was looking imploringly at the camera (and therefore Bart), a duffel bag under his arm and Tim had his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised as he nodded at Shannon, not paying any attention to her.
"...And that's--that's as far as I've gotten," Bart admitted quietly, hand resting on a blank page. He blinked a few times, trying to stave off tears. He didn't want to cry again.