#bartpreston

Through All of Time and Space:

The subject’s name is Tim. Bipedal human creature. Non-childbearing. Blue eyes, dark hair, and fewer organs than documented in human literature. I believe something in him is broken. I wonder if he’ll be useful to me in the future despite this. For now, he’s chosen to keep me a secret. I believe this is for his benefit. He doubts his mental faculties despite my original subject, Bart’s declaration of his intelligence. I needed his assistance to assimilate into Earth's culture. 

Tim’s expressions change when he looks at me. His heartbeat slows and his eyes waver as he studies my form. He fails to understand that Bart is my blueprint for appearance and nothing more. I tried to explain it but the explanations only upset him. Human emotion feels complicated. I took the form of someone he had a fondness for, but he looks at me with pain in his eyes and a heaviness in his heart. I apologize to him for it, and he smiles. I don’t understand him. But I want to.

A Love For All Seasons:

Day One: As she lay on my chest, I remembered touching her little head. It was the size of my palm. My heart skipped a beat and found the rhythm of hers. I glanced at Joan as she slept peacefully in her hospital bed, wondering how she could remain so calm. I felt her hands and feet, counting her fingers and toes as tears streamed down my cheeks. How could I ever sleep again? How could I ever relax, knowing her tiny life was in my hands? Her little head that couldn’t fill up my entire palm? Her tiny fragile body with her perfect little face—. She had a full head of hair. It was the last thing I noticed. I spent so much time worrying that I didn’t notice my daughter’s full head of beautiful brown hair. I didn’t notice my eyes and nose and mouth translated onto her little face. It all sank in at that moment. I would love her forever.

magic yellow lightning:

I put his red rubber rain boots on as he sat with his hands stretched out. “Grandpa? Am I magic now?” Bart questioned. 

“Huh?” I asked in reply.

“I got shocked-ed by lightning. Am I magic now?” Bart asked. I smiled as I held his hand. 

There was no harm in letting him see the accident in a fun light. He survived and that was all that mattered. “Yup… And now that we’ve both been struck by lightning, I can tell you all my magic secrets. You can help me make my potions,” I answered. Bart smiled with his eyes shut. “You can open your eyes. If you keep them closed, we won’t be able to tell if you’ve gotten your sight back.” 

“It’s not bad to open them?” Bart questioned. I kneeled beside him, rubbing a smudge on his cheek with my finger. 

“No, it’s not bad. It’s helpful. You’ll start to see lights again, then shapes, and your sight should come back fully in a few days. It happened to me, too. You’re so brave, Bart. I was really scared when it happened to me, but I’m so proud of you. You’ve been such a big boy,” I commended him. He reached up for me to carry him, and I felt his body go limp in my arms. 

“Not seeing makes me sleepy, Grandpa,” Bart mumbled. I rubbed his back, wondering if I upset him. “How am I gonna watch SpongeBob?” I held back a laugh. 

in between seconds:

Time is a lot like origami paper to me. If I use the speed force like fingers, I can fold a straight line into a three-dimensional object. And in those folds are points in time. When Bart was born, I could feel all the creases in time where he touched. So, I searched for a crease in time where he would understand. I kissed my Bart goodbye and ventured through the folds of time until I saw an opening. A pocket in time where he and I could talk. I waited for him to feel my presence in his time. Bart. 

I felt him before I recognized his face. The speed force carries unique energy for all of us. Dawn felt like cool air like the inside of a tornado. Wally felt like the rumble in a thunderstorm. Bart’s energy felt like rippling rays of sunlight, almost like water. Uncontrolled but uniform. 

He met me in a space between milliseconds. “You’re not supposed to be here,” Bart stated. It wasn’t accusatory. It was an observation. My breath caught, and I wanted to cry, but I had an urgency in me that wouldn’t allow it. Not yet. I touched his face, and he gasped. 

“Dad?” Bart questioned as tears streamed down his cheeks. He knew me by energy alone. I nodded. 

“Hi, Bubs… We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Don’t we?” I asked, still holding back my tears as I held his face in my hands. I was pure energy, but he was flesh and blood. My flesh and blood. 

Comfortably Wrong, Painfully RIght:

“Okay… Let me get this right: You have a crush on Kon. You have a crush on Preston. You couldn’t decide which one you wanted to ask out, and you were so baked you sent them the same question. Am I getting this?” Cassie questioned. 

Bart nodded. “Oh, you’re fucked. Like this is better than TV,” Cassie laughed. 

“You’re not helping,” Bart half-shouted before lowering his voice, “They’re both coming tonight. I can’t cancel on Preston because he went through a lot to come here, and—.” 

“Cancel on Conner,” Cassie interrupted. 

“I can’t. How do I tell him I take it back?” Bart replied. Cassie groaned. “Exactly!”

A Joyful Rebellion:

I sat there next to him, hiding in a brand-new HDPE pipe for my father’s new construction project. He pushed his feet out, attempting to roll us, and I laughed. “Hey, amnesia boy… Do you wanna do something bad?” I questioned. He grinned, moving to take off his jacket and shirt while I took a lighter out of my pocket. His eyes widened, and he backed away.

“Kinky… But I prefer my pleasure without pain,” he chuckled. I shook my head and climbed over his lap and out of the tube. He followed me, and I reached down into his pocket for his flask. 

“Wanna see something cool?” I questioned. He bounced his head from side-to-side, and I walked toward the wooden structure of the building and took a swig of his ancient alcohol before spitting and lighting a fire. He hooked an arm around my stomach and pulled me away from the blaze as he laughed. 

He rocked as he walked me back and away with two strong arms wrapped around me. “Good on ya! Fuck that building,” he smiled into my neck. He understood me. Even if it was on a base level, he could accept my actions without any explanation. He didn’t care who my father was. All that mattered was me and what I wanted, and I wanted him. 

“It’s my dad’s,” I replied. He froze, resting his chin on my shoulder. 

“Fuck him,” he whispered. And the weight fell off of me. “Yeah, fuck him. What does he matter? Whatever he did to make you feel this way… Fuck him.” 

Nothing But Time: