If Looks Could Kill (Sideshow Bob Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

"Bob. I'm really, really sorry. Nothing I say will ever be able to express just how sorry I am," Bart gabbled.

"Whatever do you mean, Bart?" Bob asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Bart took a deep breath and said, 

" I was the driver. I was the one who ran over Gino. I-I killed him," Bart hung his head even lower.

Bob froze. His thoughts froze. His emotions froze. Then, regaining movement, he stood up.

Bart watched Bob rise out of his chair, his heart racing with fear. He watched in confusion as Bob's face contorted into a smile. Then he snickered. Then laughed. He continued laughing, manically almost. Uncontrollably, so it seemed.

"Bob?" Bart whispered.

Bob lent against the bed frame, leaning over, laughing.

"This-is-just-too," Bob gasped, "The irony is killing me!" 

Abruptly, Bob laughter stopped. Bart heard Bob snarl, and watched him turn to face him.

"You. Killed. My. Son?" Bob asked, though it was more of a statement, his fist clenching and un-clenching. 

"YOU! YOU ARE THE REASON WHY I'M DYING IN HERE!" Bob roared, stabbing angrily at his chest.

"I'm sorry," Bart whimpered.

"YOU'RE SORRY? THAT'LL BRING HIM BACK!" Bob exploded. He stood over Bart, his clenched fists shaking. Bart willed himself to stay put. He was NOT about to provoke Bob to chase him.

Bob's fists un-clenched, falling limp by Bob's side. Bob fell to his knees, shaking. Tears stung his eyes, and it felt like heart was tearing in two. All over again. It was as bad as the first time.

Bart sat there, onlooking. This was much scarier than Bob's rage. Much scarier. He was expecting Bob to be angry; he was ready for it. He wasn't ready for Bob to fall apart, right in front of him.

"You d-destroyed my l-life!" Bob sobbed, " You ruined everything! You'd already ruined e-everything, but no! T-th-that wasn't enough! You just h-had to take my son too!"

"I'm sorry, Bob," Bart whispered.

"Franchesca left me b-because of you! I was imprisoned SO many t-times because of you! I have to take b-bloody medication every day, because of you!"

Bob continued, but he was sobbing so hard that Bart couldn't understand him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Bob!" Bart cried.

Bart got off the settee and walked over to Bob. He watched as he sobbed nonsensically, thumping the carpet repeatedly in anguish.  Bart couldn't just watch anymore. He dropped to his knees and reached out to Bob. Bob didn't react, even when Bart hugged him. He wasn't pushed away, or hit. He wasn't embraced either. Bob was still quite a lot bigger than Bob, so it was difficult for Bart to properly hug Bob, but he tried his best. He squeezed a little tighter, feeling tears trickling down his own cheeks. Bob stopped babbling.

Bob took deep breaths between his jerky sobs, trying to calm himself. But he couldn't. Opening his eyes, Bob turned to Bart. He saw that Bart was crying too; he wasn't in as bad a state as Bob was, but he was upset. In a way, seeing Bart hurting made him feel even more guilty.  

Bob gently pried Bart off and stood up, wiping relentless tears from his sore eyes. Bart stayed on the floor, at Bob's feet for a few moments.

"B-Bart?" Bob spoke, his voice taught, but audible, just about.

Bart looked up at Bob.

"Stand up, Bart."

Reluctantly, Bart arose, and was stood beside Bob.

Bob pulled Bart into a fierce hug.

"I'm sorry," Bob whispered.

"I'm sorry too," Bart mumbled into Bob's shoulder. 

The two of them broke apart.

"Thank you, Bart. I needed that," Bob said quietly.

"Me too," Bart replied.

"So... Will you be going to the police?" Bart asked, slightly fearful of the answer.

Bob shook his head lightly, his crisom curls bouncing.

"Bart. You have hurt me. A lot. A very lot. But I could never put you in jail. I know what it's like in there, and you never, EVER want to go there."

"You really are a gentleman, Bob," Bart chuckled. Bob grinned, amused.

"I'll just have to turn myself in," Bart sighed. He saw Bob's  terrified look and paused. Bob grabbed a violent hold of Bart's shoulders and shook him fiercely.

"Bart, no!  You can't turn yourself in, Bart! Prison is the WORST place on this Godforsaken Earth!" Bob cried. He took a deep breath, regaining what little composure that he had, and continued, "Sorry. But seriously, Bart. I cannot allow you to do that. The police force in Springfield are laughable. They'll never find out that you are responsible. It's nothing short of a miracle that they caught me so many times. Please, Bart, promise me. Promise that you won't tell anyone about this, especially not the police."

Bart gulped.

"Can I tell Lisa?" Bart asked nervously.

"If you think that you can trust her. But don't tell anyone else. I won't tell anyone else. Except Caitlyn. Maybe. But I won't tell anyone else."

"Okay. I...I promise."

Bob smiled the same smile that he'd been wearing when Bart first arrived. The only thing that gave away that Bob had been emotional was the sore-looking, swollen redness around his eyes.

"I must be going, Bob," Bart said.

"Of course!" Bob chuckled brightly, leading Bart to the door, " I do love it when you visit, Bart! Do come again!"

"See you later, Sideshow Bob!" 

Both of them smirked as Bart left the apartment.