notarrowette | Bart's Back!

Bart breathed a laugh out his nose. "Understandable, I suppose. Even so, let's keep this our little secret, yeah?" He tilted his head just enough so that he could see Cissie out of the corner of his eye, smiling conspiratorially.

Cissie smiled back at him, smirking a little. "I don't know; I'm not very good at keeping secrets," she teased. A bit more seriously, she added, "Or, you know--Tim's got some kind of secret-detecting radar."

"Well, in that case..." Bart grinned. "You gotta pinky-swear." He held out his hand, his littlest finger crooked, and waited expectantly for Cissie to link fingers with him. "A pinky swear is binding. Even Tim can't manage to see past the shield of a pinky swear." The words came almost automatically to him now, after spending so many frustrating hours trying to get his sons to talk to him. Conner would always refuse to say anything because Tim could 'read' secrets. Bart finally remembered something about pinky swears from a book he had read once, and that had managed to end that strange habit.

Cissie laughed and bumped shoulders with him. "First of all, I think you're underestimating Tim," she said with a wink. "And secondly, you're asking me to pinkie-swear to lie to my boyfriend. I'm not sure that's the best relationship advice."

Bart kept his hand where it was. "C'mon, kid, swear!" He laughed. "Also, I'm not asking you to lie to your boyfriend, just don't tell him! Tell him whatever else you want. Tell him my hair's getting too long and I really need to get it cut." He arched an eyebrow, a skill he got much better at over the past thirty years. "It's not lying if you just don't say anything. And when have I been known for giving good advice? I'm terrible at advice!"

Cissie laughed and ruffled Bart's hair again. "If you cut your hair, it won't be nearly as much fun to do this. And honestly, I can't promise not to talk to Tim, since--I pretty much tell him everything these days," she said in a rush. "But I do promise to leave your dignity in tact." She hesitated a moment and then gave him a sheepish smile.

"In the spirit of honesty--I'm a little worried about you, but I'm also stuck on being happy that you're alive and back. So I'm not pushing and I'm focusing on the happy, rather than the worry," she admitted. "And it might take me some time to get used to you being... older. Because the Big Sister mentality is really hard to switch off."

Bart chuckled, leaning his head towards her to make messing up his hair easier. "Yeah, it's okay. He's pretty much stupidly head-over-heels for you too. It's cute." It was cute, and it made him feel a little empty inside, but he didn't mention that. It wasn't Cissie's fault that she could manage a successful relationship while he couldn't. "Well, thanks anyway," he added, returning her smile.

Bart sighed, looking away from where Cissie was watching him worriedly. "I'll tell you about it sometime, Ciss, I promise. Just... not right now, okay?" He blinked a few times in rapid succession, just in case he had gotten a little 'dust' in his eyes. "I nearly broke down on Kon, I don't think I can handle doing it again so soon. It's hard to get used to for me too. And don't worry about it," he added, chuckling softly. "I like it. Being fussed over." It was nice, after so long of being the one doing the fussing.

Cissie played with Bart's hair a little more to give herself a chance to stop blushing. She was relieved that Bart seemed to be okay about her and Tim--she hadn't really known what he would think. She didn't want to tell him that after he died, she and Tim had needed each other. "Anita says we're disgusting," she admitted shyly.

She stopped messing with his hair when he looked away and stroked it instead, smoothing her hand over his head gently. "I'm glad you like it," she said. She hesitated a little, not sure how Bart would take what she wanted to say--she'd never really told him this, and she wasn't sure if she should, but--she had learned a few things about saying things before it's too late. "Because--you're the closest thing I've got to a brother, Bart. And I've missed fussing over you." She managed a small smile. "Tim gets frustrated when I do it to him, and then he starts in on me and it's not at all the same. I'll be good--I'll wait until you're ready to tell me. Just say the word, okay?"

Bart snorted slightly. "Yeah, Tim is apparently prone to gushing. It's almost embarrassing." Of course, he couldn't say this without a smile forming on his face, but that was the whole point. He didn't mind that his friends were happy. He was pleased, in fact.

Scooting down so he could rest his head against Cissie's shoulder, Bart sighed, wrapping his arm more tightly around her waist. "I'm... Thanks, Ciss. That means a lot." Even if he was mentally thirty years older than her, the sentiment remained the same. "You'd be a great older sister." He sighed. "I promise I won't make you wait too long."

Cissie smiled sheepishly--maybe Tim's behavior was a little embarrassing, but it was really nice to hear about, especially given her recent raging insecurities. It seemed like every time Tim managed to reassure her, Stephanie came along and made some snide, backhanded comment to her or to her friends. Cissie knew herself well enough to know that she was not exactly rational where Tim's ex-girlfriend was concerned.

None of this was worth getting into right now, though. Not when Bart so obviously needed a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her cheek against the top of his head. "Whenever you're ready, Bart," she said again, rubbing small circles over his back. "I can wait. I'm just--so glad you're back." She just wanted him to be okay.

Bart snuggled unconsciously deeper into Cissie's side, closing his eyes. "I don't want to depress you," he muttered softly. "You're finally so happy... with Tim, and the rest of your life, I don't want to bring you down with my melodrama." He sighed, pushing back slightly against Cissie's hand on his back. "I want you to be happy." He could deal with crushing depression, it's not like he didn't have to before, but seeing his friends sad? Not something he wanted to see. Ever.

"Oh, Bart," she murmured, pressing her face into his hair. "I want you to be happy too."

Bart whuffled an embarrassed laugh, thick with unshed tears--much to his shagrin. "I'd ask you not to tell Tim about me acting like a little girl, but you've pretty much negated that option, haven't you?" He squeezed her waist lightly to show he was joking as he sniffed as inconspicuously as possible.

She hugged him closer and continued rubbing his back. "You're not acting like a little girl, and I won't tell Tim if you don't want me to," she told him. If Tim asked, she knew she wouldn't lie to him, but she hated hearing Bart so upset. "We love you and we've missed you--we don't want you to be unhappy."

Bart smiled softly. "I know, Ciss. I just--I don't want things to change between us. The way we used to be. And the most scary thing is..." He trailed off and had to clear his throat, shaking his head. "The scary thing is that I can hardly remember how that was." He shivered involuntarily, pressing even closer to Cissie's warm body.

Cissie didn't answer at first, holding him close and hiding her face in his mop of hair. After a quiet moment, she started talking. It was hard to say out loud. "I think... I think we've all been through too much, for things not to change. That doesn't mean it's a bad thing," she added quickly. "It just means... we're all a little more grown up." He couldn't see, but she smiled sadly into his hair. "Maybe it means we appreciate each other a little more this time around."

Bart sighed, awkwardly twisting his arm to pet her bicep. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's for the best." He tried to sound decisive, but was sure he only managed 'hesitant' at best. After a beat, he swallowed hard. "I'm scared, Ciss," he admitted in a small voice. "I missed you guys so much that I didn't even really think the whole leaving thing through. What if I made the wrong decision? Don't get me wrong," he added quickly, "I'm thrilled that I'm back and that we're all here, but... I've left so much behind. Maybe too much. I don't know if I'm going to be able to function in this universe anymore. I don't think I know how..."

"Bart..." Cissie whispered. She tightened her arms around him without thinking, as if doing so would hold him there. "What... did you leave behind?"

Bart sat silently for a few minutes, trying to gather his thoughts into some semblance of order while using Cissie's warm bulk and strong arms to keep him grounded. After a while, he cleared his throat. "It took me years after I was sent to the Speed Force to realize that I was chasing something unattainable," he began. "People rarely ever manage to leave, and when they do, it's only when someone else dies and joins us. Eventually I gave up." He sighed. "I was a wreck, Ciss. I didn't eat, I barely slept, I was too depressed to even shower or make any kind of effort to support myself. I spent a long time sponging off Max." He made a face, even though Cissie couldn't see it.

"After about ten years, I met this woman, Shannon. She was nice... reminded me a lot of Kon. Stubborn, beautiful, more caring than she'd like to admit. She had some of Tim's methodicalness, your caring. It was almost more than I could stand, being around her. But, you know. She was the closest thing I had to you guys. We got married two years later, and another three after that, we had twins. Boys." He smiled fondly. "Tim and Conner. Shannon wouldn't agree to Kon. She said it was a stupid name, and none of her children would be called that." Honestly, Bart thought it was because she knew that he was more than a little bit in love with Kon, and that was just too much for her to handle.

"I wasn't the best father to them, but I tried. And even though Shannon and I weren't all that compatible in the end, I still love--loved--my family. And now..." He swallowed hard. "Now I'll never see them again." He turned, pressing his face into Cissie's neck. "Oh, Ciss," he wailed, clutching at her as he finally allowed the tears that had been threatening him almost all evening to fall. "What have I done?"

"Shhh," Cissie murmured, soothing him as best she could. She held him close and stroked his hair, closing her eyes against her own tears--she ached for him. "Oh, Bart, shh. It's okay."

She held him for a while, letting him cry, before she spoke quietly. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you were so unhappy--but I'm glad you had a family. And... I'm sorry you had to leave them. But--oh, Bart." She swallowed and thought for a moment before speaking again.

"When you were gone--when we thought you were dead--we still loved you, just as much as when you were here. And we knew you loved us. We never doubted that. Your family," it was hard not to trip over that--not to be sad that they had missed out on so much, that Bart had a whole life without them, "they love you. And they know you love them. I'm sure you were a wonderful father, Bart."

She kissed the top of his head, taking a moment to find the right words. "You'll see them again," she said softly, as hard as it was to vocalize. "They're still there, in the Speed Force, right? That's--you'll see them some day."

Bart sniffed unattractively, trying to stop the tears that were busy drenching Cissie's pretty shirt. He remembered why he hated crying as a teenager: he could never seem to manage it in the stoic, neat way that he always imagined someone like Tim would do if he ever cried, he always ended up crying like a six year-old, all snot and drool and huge, hiccuping breaths. "What kind of father abandons his children, Ciss?" he asked between sobbing breaths. "They'll grow up without me. I'll never see them graduate college, buy a house, get married... I'll never hold their first child and claim completely falsely that it looks just like me, isn't that lucky?" He hiccuped a rather hysterical laugh. "Time moves so much faster in there, Cissie... They were already nineteen when I left. Who knows how old they've gotten since I ran away?"

He sighed, trying to calm his breathing. "Even if I do manage to see them again, they'll be old. I'm already younger than them--which is still ridiculous--in three or four years here, they'll be grandparents. How am I supposed to deal with that if I can even find a way to get back?"

He shook his head a little, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm scared, Ciss. I'm really fucking scared."

"It'll be okay, Bart. They'd want you to be happy, just like you want them to be." Cissie held him tightly, rocking him gently back and forth as she rubbed his back. It hurt to see him so heartbroken and scared and have no idea how to fix it. She made comforting shushing noises, letting him cry.

"We're here, Bart. We love you, we'll help you. However we can. I promise," she said, quiet and intense. "You're not alone, okay?"

Bart laughed again, the sound only lessening slightly in it's hysterical quality, shaking his head and disentangling his arms from around Cissie's waist to grind the heels of his palms into his eyes. "God, what am I doing?" he asked, wiping at his cheeks and rubbing his eyes. "There's nothing I can do about it now, I just have to suck it up and get over it. They'll be fine without me, they always were." He heaved a shuddering sigh, still leaning into Cissie's embrace, even as he shook his head in denial. "Crying doesn't fix anything. I don't think anything can fix it. Not really. But I appreciate the offer," he added, closing his eyes.

After a few minutes of getting himself under control, almost hours for him, Bart straightened a little, scrunching up his face until it felt right again. "I have some pictures, if you want to see," he offered.

Cissie held him quietly, letting him try to gather himself again. She was a little grateful that he didn't seem to want or expect her to have an answer for him--she didn't have one, and didn't know what to say. She wanted so badly to make this easier--better--for him, but she wasn't sure anything could, except time. So she held him and didn't say anything, just continued stroking his hair and rubbing his back and being with him.

It didn't seem fair, that things had to be this way.

When Bart finally pulled away and offered to show her pictures, Cissie smiled back at him sincerely. "Of course I want to see."

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.

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