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bluejaysandblackbats · 4 months ago

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It Takes A Village

Fandom: YJ98, Flashfam, DC Comics

Summary: After witnessing Bart murder someone, his friends scramble to cover Bart's tracks and stumble upon an international scandal as a result.

(Minor background: Bart took a gap year, and Conner did two years of community college. This starts shortly after Bart's 19th birthday. So, Conner and Jenni are 20, Bart and Cissie are 19, Tim and Cassie are 18, I made Greta 17 for the sake of the fic, and Judy is 15. I decided to make Owen 22 and Thad 16 for plot reasons. Clark and Conner are brothers in this fic, and Clark is 12 years older for the sake of this fic, so he's 32.)

Chapters: 9/?

Characters: Bart Allen, Conner Kent, Judy Garrick, Jay Garrick, Joan Garrick, Cissie King-Jones, Cassie Sandsmark, Tim Drake, Greta Hayes, Jenni Ognats, Thad Thawne, Owen Mercer, Meloni Thawne, Clark Kent, Wally West, Linda Park, Courtney Whitmore, President Thawne

Relationship(s): KonBart, CissieCassie, WallyLinda

Additional Tags: Serial Killer AU, No Powers AU, Angst, Dark Comedy, Bart Allen Kills in This Fic, Minor Thad Thawne, Separated in Childhood, Some Smut in This

Chapter Nine: Rubber Band

Bart played with Conner’s hair while he slept, naked and warm in the summer heat, a leg draped over Bart’s. Conner tucked his body inward, almost in the fetal position, breathing heavy, even breaths. He rolled closer inward, throwing an arm over Bart’s lap, hugging him like a cherished childhood toy. Conner pulled him in close and when Bart couldn’t be pulled any closer, he shifted his body, slowly climbing on top of him to share his endless warmth. The fan oscillated, buzzing low and slow, keeping the room cool and comfortable while Conner clung to him.

When he was sure Conner was fast asleep, he pulled his file from underneath the bean bag chair, and he started to read through the thick stack of pages detailing his psychological health. It all seemed foreign to him until he read a name. It shouldn’t have been familiar, but it was. Dr. Michael-Marie Pearson... And for some reason, that name reminded him of the previous summer when he came to the Kent house soaking wet.

“Bart?” Conner mumbled, his eyes still closed. “Bart, you’re shaking.”

Bart exhaled, breathing hard as he strained for a memory that bubbled just beneath the surface. His memory was near-perfect when he wasn’t in a dissociative state but the past two summers were spent in a dulled state of consciousness even when he was aware. He didn’t hear Conner’s sleepy whispers or feel the shift in Conner’s weight. Dr. Pearson. Michael-Marie Pearson. Dr. Michael. She noted Bart’s propensity for violence, and his explosive outbursts. She called him a ‘terrorist in the making’ and a ‘potential threat to the Interlac government’. He thought he almost drowned the night he stumbled to the Kent farm, but it was clear now.

Flashes of a struggling woman, her dress floating as he pushed her shoulders down. She coughed and gasped, struggling against him as he drowned her. She couldn’t grasp his arms to scratch his skin, and he was far too strong for her. And then, he came across a picture showing her face. He remembered her hands, holding him down, bruising his skin. Just a little boy. Helpless. He asked her how it felt to be helpless as he tried to drown her. It took so long to drown her, that he wasn’t sure she died from the drowning. Maybe it was the cold.

“Baby,” Conner loudly whispered as he sat up in Bart’s lap, sitting face to face with him. Bart shut the file, setting it aside as he looked at Conner. “What’s that?” Conner put his glasses on and sat next to him.

“I’m going to say something, and I want to know if it sounds familiar to you,” Bart whispered.

“Okay,” Conner whispered.

Bart took a deep breath. “ I killed her. I need you to come with me, ” Bart replied. Conner nodded.

“What does it mean?” Conner asked.

“It was a confession,” Bart answered before kissing Conner’s cheek.

“What were you reading?” Conner asked. Bart shook his head.

“My medical records,” Bart answered. Conner lay on his side, settling back into bed. Bart reopened the file and continued to read through the pages. Conner grabbed his phone and started scrolling while Bart read quietly. “Conner, I’m sorry that I woke you up.”

“It’s alright… I don’t mind. I noticed something,” Conner whispered, “You’ve been sober all weekend. What gives?”

Bart didn’t answer immediately. He was so preoccupied with getting answers from Jacob, that he didn’t feel the need to smoke to calm his nerves. And he already had his sights set on another person. “I wanted to spend time with you,” Bart replied.

“Baby… It’s getting late. Let’s get some sleep,” Conner whispered as he plugged his phone up and set it aside. “Bart, can I tell you something?”

Bart nodded as he put the file away and turned toward Conner. “You can tell me anything,” Bart answered, still looking into Conner’s eyes, still wearing his glasses. “There’s nothing you can say that would change the way I feel about you. I love you so much.”

Conner took a deep breath. “For the longest time, I didn’t feel like a person… Like… I don’t know. I guess I’ve always just felt less important than other people. I didn’t really know who I wanted to be, so I tried to be what everyone liked. I’m—.”

“You don’t have to be anything with me. Be yourself. We were best friends first, remember?” Bart whispered. Conner smiled.

“That’s what I’m saying. This feels safe. This feels right,” Conner answered. Bart grinned as he pulled Conner into his arms. Conner took his glasses off and wrapped his arms and leg around Bart, holding on tight as he pressed his face into Bart’s chest.

Bart tossed and turned, mumbling in his sleep. He groaned and whimpered, waking Conner out of his sleep. Conner lay there, listening. “Kill me, not them… Me… Not—.”

“Bart,” Conner whispered. Bart opened his eyes, his body rigid as he tried to differentiate between the dream and reality. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… My nightmares… I guess they’re different now. It almost makes me miss the old ones,” Bart replied as he sat up and took a sip of water. And the rage he thought he’d beaten came creeping back. It started in his shoulders, stiff and aching as he trembled.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Conner asked. Bart shook his head. The sun peeked through the blinds as Bart’s phone vibrated. Conner’s eyes didn’t leave Bart.

“It’s my cousin,” Bart whispered as he answered his phone.

“ Jenni, what’s wrong? ” Bart asked in Interlac.

“ Nothing… Bart, I—. I wanted to check in. What time is it for you? I know it’s later over there than—. ”

“ Jenni, it’s six o’clock… But, you didn’t wake me up. I’m alright. How are you? ” Bart asked.

“ I’m good! Why are you awake so early? ” Jenni asked.

“ Conner’s visiting, ” Bart answered.

“ Oh! I’m sorry! Call me later and tell him I said hi, ” Jenni replied before hanging up. Bart laughed, chewing his lip as he looked at Conner.

Conner squinted before putting his glasses on. “What’s so funny?” Conner asked.

“Jenni thought she was interrupting ,” Bart laughed.

Conner took his glasses off, his eyes wide as he covered his face. “Terrible,” Conner laughed, “I’m gonna get dressed and hit the gym. Wanna come with?”

“Okay… Maybe it’s time for a shower, too,” Bart suggested as he kissed Conner’s neck.

“Quit,” Conner laughed.

Bart pulled away, looking into Conner’s eyes. “Too much?” Bart asked.

“I’m not saying that… If you start here, we won’t make it to the bathroom,” Conner whispered.

Bart’s doctor cleared him to run the previous year , but he couldn’t muster the emotional energy to get back out to the tracks. He’d almost forgotten how good it felt to let the wind whip his cheeks and blow through his scalp. Conner took it easy, knowing Bart wasn’t ready to run at their old pace, and they stopped at a park bench to sip their water and watch the ducks. “How’s the knee?” Conner asked.

Bart nodded. “It’s fine. I might feel it later, but I’m good right now,” Bart answered. Conner kissed Bart’s cheek, and Bart recoiled. “No, I’m sweaty—.”

“You were sweaty in the bathroom, too—.”

Bart laughed, but his smile quickly faded as he noticed a man on the other side of the pond, feeding the ducks frozen peas. His throat tightened as he remembered the physical sensation of a needle in his lower back. He remembered a hand holding his head down, a palm pressed firmly against his ear, and a man cursing at him in Interlac. The pain was unbearable. His jaw tightened as he remembered the scream that escaped his throat. No anesthetic. A spinal tap. God! A spinal tap with no anesthetic. He didn’t know that then, but it was in the medical records. It was poorly done and resulted in an infection that nearly killed him. He was seven. The man in the park nearly lost his eye in the struggle. Bart could never forget that man’s face. The one that held his head down while the others helped restrain him. The one that ordered the procedure be done without anesthetic.

Conner touched his arm. “Are you in there?” Conner asked. Bart blinked hard and nodded. Bart leaned forward with his head between his knees as he tried to pull himself together. “Do you feel like you’re gonna pass out?”

Bart nodded. His blood ran so hot, he thought he’d explode if he moved, so he let Conner believe it was something else. He couldn’t bury his rage, so he masked it as illness. Conner rubbed his back. “Stay here, I’m gonna go across the street and get you something to eat,” Conner whispered. Bart nodded.

Bart scarfed down half a pizza when they got home while Conner explained everything to Cassie and Cissie. “He okay?” Cissie asked. Conner glanced at Bart, watching as he devoured slice after slice.

“I don’t know… I can’t tell if he’s out of it or if he’s just worn out,” Conner whispered, “Will you look out for him when I leave? I’m worried… He seemed like he was doing so well.”

“What do you mean? Did something happen this summer?” Cassie asked.

Conner chewed his lip. Bart took a sip of water and dove back in. “Baby?” Conner asked in a slightly raised voice. Bart didn’t budge. “Like that.” Conner lifted a hand, gesturing in Bart’s direction.

“How long has that been going on?” Cassie asked.

“A long time… He just told me before the end of the summer, but it’s been going on for longer than that. Please don’t tell him I told you. He’d hate that,” Conner pleaded, “I only told you for his safety. I don’t want anything to happen to him because I stayed silent.”

“Should we slow him down?” Cissie questioned as she watched Bart eat.

Conner stood up and walked over to Bart, rubbing circles on his back. “Bart? Can you look at me for a minute?” Conner asked as he reached for the pizza box. “Stop… Okay?”

Bart blinked hard. “Conner?” Bart whispered. “Do you have a soda?”

“Yes, baby. I’ll get you a soda. Do you feel a little better?” Conner asked.

Bart nodded. “Mhm… Can I have my box back now?” Bart replied. Conner nodded, sliding it over before grabbing a soda from the fridge.

“Scared me for a minute there… Bart, maybe you should catch some z’s after your shower,” Conner suggested. Bart shook his head.

“No… No, I’m good. You’re leaving soon. I’ll sleep after you’re gone,” Bart replied.

“Bart—.”

“Please don’t baby me, Conner. I’m okay,” Bart insisted.

After Bart showered, he fell asleep beside Conner in bed, despite his insistence on staying awake to say goodbye. Conner waited until Bart was in a deep sleep to leave with Cassie. Cissie slipped into the room to check on Bart. He groaned and turned on his side, reaching for Conner.

“He’s not here,” Cissie replied.

Bart covered his face. “Do you wanna hang out for a little bit?” Bart mumbled as he patted the bed. Cissie climbed in beside him.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Cissie asked. Bart made a soft noise.

“Why am I so tired?” Bart mumbled as he pushed up on his forearms. He turned and grabbed Cissie’s arm. “Did Conner seem upset when he left?” Bart asked. Cissie shook her head. “You wanted to talk to me about something before Conner came—?”

“Oh no… I wanted to know if you had a crush on Conner… Are you okay, though? You’ve been so muted lately,” Cissie whispered.

“Muted?” Bart asked.

“Like I don’t know—. Like something in you isn’t as bright as it was when I met you,” Cissie replied.

Bart sighed as he grabbed his laptop and picked a movie. “I don’t like change… But I’m trying to adjust to how things are now,” Bart replied. He tried to recall the events of his day, poring over useless details until he remembered the man feeding ducks. The microwave beeped, and Cissie climbed over Bart to get it. While she was gone, Bart started thinking about the man and his face. The memory of the pain he felt played in his head over and over. Without realizing it, Bart started to shake.

Cissie returned to the bedroom, and she set the pizza box to the side. Cissie opened the box and stopped to run her cold knuckles against Bart’s cheek. “Hey? You okay?” Cissie asked.

“Mhm… I think—. I think maybe I’m coming down with something,” Bart mumbled as he lay on his side, facing away from her. Cissie frowned, and she felt his forehead.

“Hm… Yeah. You look like you don’t feel good. I’ll put the food away, and I can come—.”

The memory played over and over as he stared at the cracked door. It overwhelmed his senses as he rolled out of bed. He barely made it to the bathroom to throw up, and Cissie followed him, sitting outside, politely waiting for him to calm down. “Maybe you should call in tomorrow?” Cissie whispered.

“Nuh-uh. I’ll be alright,” Bart mumbled as he clutched his stomach with one hand. “I’m sorry… Maybe we can watch a movie another time.”

“Okay… You want me to sleep in there with you?” Cissie asked.

Bart flushed and stood up, checking the mirror before rinsing his mouth, and he rinsed his face. “Cissie, don’t tell anybody I’m sick. I’ll take vitamin C in the morning… I—.” Bart leaned forward and dry heaved. “God…”

“Bart, I don’t think—.”

“I’m alright… I think it’s just the onset of a migraine. I’ll be okay once I go to sleep,” Bart answered. He spit in the sink and released a shaky breath.

He knew it would take time to do what needed to be done. His jaw clenched, putting pressure on his teeth until they started to feel loose, and Cissie knocked on the door, pulling him back to the current moment. “Bart? You want me to sleep in there with you tonight?” Cissie asked.

“It’s okay… I don’t want to bother—.”

“I’ll see you in there,” Cissie interrupted. Bart smiled, but his eyes were sad. He had amazing friends. He knew that… But it wasn’t enough. The desire to hunt and kill consumed him. He knew what he wanted wasn’t entirely realistic, but he knew it’d grab someone’s attention if he could kill a few more. Maybe six people. Maybe all the ones on the east coast. He didn’t see them as people. He saw them as nightmares. Shadows given shapes and faces. Shadows given names and voices. They had to die.

Bart went to work the next morning, his head pounding as he set aside regular customers’ subscriptions in a box of files under the counter. The shop was mostly empty in the early hours, so Bart took that time to organize subscriptions and update the figures on display. His boss was laid back about how the store was set up, but she insisted on organizing the boxes in an intricately specific order. She insisted each section be organized by franchises or companies, which didn’t bother Bart. He liked the challenge, but his headache kept him from enjoying his work.

He hadn’t eaten, so his stomach growled, adding onto the stress he already felt. It left him in a daze, keeping him from noticing everything going on around him. He almost didn’t notice the customer approaching the counter. “Good morning,” Bart answered without looking up. Holding the counter in a white knuckle grip did nothing to hold him together. Between the anger raging through his already feverish body like a forest fire and the physical pain he felt in his head and stomach, he could barely walk let alone hold a conversation. “Bart?” a familiar voice questioned. Bart looked up, wondering why the person at the counter knew his name, and he painted on a smile, trying to appear normal for a moment.

“Grant? What are you doing here?” Bart asked. Grant set a Star Trek omnibus on the counter while he dug through the pins, looking for a horror-themed one.

“My friend’s dad has a fight here tonight. I didn’t expect to see you here. How’s it going?” Grant questioned.

“I’m doing alright,” Bart lied, taking a breath before he continued with something true. “I’ve got a split shift here today, and I’m about to go to my foundational design and drawing classes.”

Grant leaned forward, getting a better look at Bart. “You don’t look so good—.”

“I’m fine,” Bart interrupted to keep his mind off how he felt, “What time is the fight?”

“Nine,” Grant replied, “I’ve got another ticket if you wanna go after you get off work.”

“Sick. I get off at five. I’ll shoot you my address. If I’m running late my roommate, Cissie will let you in,” Bart smiled.

“Cool,” Grant replied as he paid for his book, “I’ll text you way before then!”

“See you later,” Bart smiled and waved, slumping over the counter only after Grant was out of sight.

Cissie stopped by a few minutes after Grant left to bring Bart a gel cap pill for his fever and aches, touching his forehead with the back of her hand. “You’re burning up… Bart, you should let me drive you home,” she whispered.

“I’m fine… But thanks for the pill. I didn’t expect you to come here so early,” Bart replied.

“Bart, you can’t get through a whole day like this. You should come home. I’ll explain it to your boss—.”

“You won’t. Because I’m fine. Don’t baby me, Cissie. I know what I can and can’t handle,” Bart interrupted. He didn’t raise his voice at her. He couldn’t. Bart knew Cissie didn’t mean any harm, so he contained his anger, saving it for his task. Cissie smiled with her soft, relaxed eyes, and she kissed his forehead.

“Okay… I work late tonight, so I might not get home until you’re asleep. The leftovers in the fridge are for you. I’ll be in the car waiting for you to clock out,” Cissie whispered. Bart smiled at her. It wasn’t her fault. He had to keep reminding himself of that, but the tension in his body felt exactly like a rubberband. He had to snap sooner or later.

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