Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hey everyone.

I am back with yet another one-shot fanfiction.

This time, it's a Simpsons story — a show that was an integral part of my and many other people's childhoods. So, this is a rewrite of the ending to the episode Barthood.

Before I go any further, I want to state that I have not watched the episode. I have read other fanfiction stories, several reviews, a transcript and a summary about it, and once I got the gist, I was not happy with the ending.

With that, the creative gears in my head started working and produced this story, which I intend to share with all of you.

Right then. With my introduction out of the way, it is time for the usual.

Synopsis: An alternative take on how the episode Barthood should have ended.

Setting: The story starts at the end of Bart and Lisa's argument during Milhouse's party but then takes a different route.

Rating: This story shall be rated T for Teen. It contains scenes of mild violence, family fallout, disownment and favouritism. If these concepts offend you, please do not read this story. YOU HAVE BEEN FAIRLY WARNED.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Simpsons, quotes or anything associated with them. This is a fanfiction written purely for entertainment purposes.

Now, let us begin …

Simpsons: Barthood The Alternative Ending.

"…So if that's all my fault, you're welcome!"

And with a smug smile still plastered across her face, Lisa Simpson walked away. Milhouse van Houten, Bart's supposed best friend put his arm around her and led her over to the main table, where the refreshments, drinks, and presents were still standing. The rest of the guests followed and soon enough, the party had returned to its original buzz and vibe.

Bart Simpson was left alone, with nothing but his thoughts. He stood rooted to the spot for several moments, processing what his sister had just said.

On the one hand, he was taken aback by the fact that Lisa had faith in him. She'd said that he could be a great artist and he realised that there was some truth to these words. He was good at drawing and painting but spent years burying his talents under layers of sarcasm and pranks. With this in mind, Bart took a step towards his bike, which rested on the fence at the back of Milhouse's garden.

For a brief moment, he contemplated just leaving the party and thinking about what Lisa had told him.

But something stopped him...

...the way she had said it.

As he thought about the rest of their argument, Bart suddenly realised something. Despite venting his feelings and making it clear how much she had hurt him, Lisa didn't acknowledge or apologise for it. Instead, she turned the comment around to make herself look like the victim. She had called him an idiot and essentially told him that he deserved everything that had happened to him.

That did not sit well with him.

As he stood there, several images flashed through Bart's mind as he remembered every time Lisa had intervened in everything he did or outshone him. But what made it particularly hard and painful for him was that everyone else just rolled with it. Everybody, including their parents, jumped on the bandwagon and supported Lisa, giving her praise and attention, whilst completely ignoring him.

As a familiar sense of detachment and bitterness started gnawing at him again, Lisa's closing words rang through his head once more.

"You're welcome."

That's what she said, her tone full of sincerity.

Bart Simpson saw red.

Whipping around, he saw that Lisa was once again the centre of everybody's attention. She was talking animatedly to the man he once considered his best friend, who'd openly declared her the best Simpson. Or rather, she was talking whilst Milhouse listened enthusiastically, a small crowd gathering around them, eavesdropping on their conversation.

Bart hesitated only for a second.

He was done with Lisa's attitude and sense of entitlement.

He was not going to let her walk all over him or disregard his feelings any more.

If she thought he deserved a poor life, then he would teach her some humility.

With that in mind, Bart turned around and made his way towards the refreshment table, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Long story short," Lisa continued to explain, "Professor Algers and I are already discussing potential research projects for my third year."

She and Milhouse were now sitting at the place of honour, on a simple blue bench at the centre of the graduation table. On their left were the refreshments whilst Milhouse's presents, still waiting to be unwrapped, sat in a big pile to the right behind Lisa. The celebration cake had not been brought out yet, but above their heads was a big banner which read GRADUATION in big golden letters.

The blue-haired boy continued to stare at his best friend's sister dreamily, soaking up her words like a sponge. He had dreamt about this moment for years, and now, it was finally happening. Lisa, however, either had not noticed his expression or was choosing to ignore it. Instead, she continued to tell him excitedly about her upcoming university course. Not that the lovestruck Milhouse seemed to realise it.

"Now I will have to wait two years before we can do any actual research. Once I start my dissertation, however, it will involve a lot of studying and practical work. Plus, some people might not take it seriously because my age– "

"Oh, I would not worry about it" Milhouse chimed in, resting his hand on top of hers and speaking in a way that made people surrounding them giggle. "If it's you, everything will be ok."

"Aaawww, thanks Milhouse," Lisa said, genuinely flattered. The boys in the crowd grinned at one another knowingly. Everybody was so engrossed in Milhouse and Lisa's flirting that they didn't notice a second figure reach the table and pick up two items.

"Anyway," Lisa continued, acting as if she had not been interrupted. "my studies will involve a lot of work at the hospital, but if my calculations are correct, it could potentially–"

SPLAT!!!

Something cold and sticky struck them from the side. The party ground to an immediate halt as Milhouse and Lisa cried out in shock. Even the music stopped. As the guests looked around, they saw that Milhouse and Lisa were now drenched in punch (non-alcoholic, of course).

Before either of the victims could recover –

BONK!!!

SPLASH!!!

Their assailant dumped the empty punch bowl atop Milhouse's head, then threw a jug of water all over Lisa. The Simpson girl spluttered, leaping to her feet. Both she and Milhouse now stunk of orange juice and lime. Blackcurrants and raspberries were stuck to their clothes or tangled in their hair. Lisa's dress was ruined.

Bart glared at the pair, the now empty water jug still in his hands. With a loud clatter, he threw it onto the table between Milhouse and Lisa.

"Bart, what the hell?" Lisa gasped.

"What's the matter?" her brother responded, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "You said I had artistic talent. Well, how do you like my debut? I call this one: 'S****y sister and Ex-friend get their Just Desserts'!"

The crowd stared at him, flabbergasted by both his actions and his statement. Lisa, looking furious, tried to wipe the fruit from the front of her dress. Failing miserably, she glared at her brother and moved to retort, but Bart cut her off.

"SHUT UP, LISA!" he shouted, his voice full of hatred. "I'm sick of your selfishness. If you think you can say whatever you like to me and get away with it, you've got another thing coming."

Milhouse, still blinking punch out of his eyes, replaced his glasses, which he had just wiped clean. Now that he could see again, he shot a savage look at Bart, before turning to Lisa reassuringly.

"It's okay Lisa, I'll—"

"Oh can it Van Houten!" Bart snapped, refusing to address Milhouse by name. "You aren't capable of doing anything, so don't embarrass yourself trying to impress anybody here, least of all my stupid sister."

Milhouse flinched at Bart's comment, but following a quick sideways glance at his crush steadied himself, squaring his shoulders. "I'm not going to let you talk to Lisa like that. She's—"

"She's what?" Bart demanded, his voice laced with mock curiosity. "The same girl who just told me I'm nothing? The same girl who's too good to spend her time with either of us? At least I was there for you. Where has she been for you these last few years, hey, Milhouse?"

Milhouse flinched visibly at this declaration. "That's – that's irrelevant" he barked, his voice faltering.

"No, it isn't. Look what happened a minute ago when she started ripping into me!" Bart retaliated, his comment touching a nerve. "You're supposed to be my best friend, and you just stood there and did nothing! All because she gave you a measly kiss on the cheek!"

Deep down, Milhouse knew he could not deny that accusation, but since Lisa was involved, he still tried to.

"You started it!" he insisted, placing a hand on Lisa's shoulder. "Lisa was just –"

"THERE YOU SEE!" Bart yelled triumphantly, pointing at them. "YOU'RE STILL DEFENDING HER. AFTER EVERYTHING I'VE DONE FOR YOU AND EVERYTHING SHE SAID. YOU'RE ACTING LIKE I'M THE BAD GUY HERE. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE MY FRIEND!"

"EVERYTHING YOU DID FOR ME?" Milhouse asked, his temper starting to rise.

"That's enough Bart!" Lisa interjected. "Just because I told you a few home truths, doesn't mean you can just –"

Bart silenced her with a hand gesture.

"I WAS YOUR BEST FRIEND FROM KINDERGARTEN TO GRADUATION. I HUNG OUT WITH YOU AFTER SCHOOL. WE WENT TO THE ARCADE AND COMIC BOOK STORE. WE DID STUFF TOGETHER EVERY WEEKEND. I –"

"YOU GOT ME SENT TO JUVIE!" Milhouse yelled

"ONLY BECAUSE THE COPS DIDN'T DO THEIR JOB PROPERLY" Bart shouted back. "GRANDPA GOT ME TO MAKE AMENDS. I APOLOGIZED FOR WHAT HAPPENED AND STUCK WITH YOU. WHO VISITED YOU IN PRISON EVERY WEEKEND? WHO SPOKE TO YOU WHEN NOBODY ELSE IN OUR YEAR WOULD? WHO CAME TO ALL OF YOUR PARTIES? BUT HEY I GUESS THAT DOESN'T MATTER AS LONG AS LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE OVER HERE IS INVOLVED. OH, AND LET'S NOT FORGET ALL THE PRESENTS I GOT YOU. Speaking of which –"

Forcing himself between them, Bart reached out and grabbed a small box wrapped in blue paper. The contents rattled slightly as he seized it.

"I'm taking this back," Bart said firmly. "If you'd rather be friends with Lisa, then you don't deserve it!"

Milhouse and the rest of the guests froze in shock. But then, the blue-haired boy's expression darkened.

"Fine! Go ahead and take it!" he snapped. "Lisa's gift is all I need." He put his arm around her shoulder again. "Like I said, she's the best Simpson and the only good thing to come out of this party. Her smile is—"

"OH, WOULD YOU SHUT THE HELL UP!" Bart exploded, stepping right into Milhouse's face. Lisa took a frightened step back, Milhouse's arm slipping from her shoulders.

"GET IT THROUGH YOUR THICK HEAD ALREADY! LISA. DOESN'T. FANCY YOU!" Bart declared, jabbing a finger into Milhouse's chest with each word.

"And don't think she doesn't know how you feel, Milhouse! Lisa knows. She's known for years. And guess what? She doesn't care. You've been obsessed with her for a decade — I've lived with her for sixteen years. I know my sister a hell of a lot better than you do."

Bart took a step back, scoffing. "Here's a fun fact: Lisa doesn't know anything about you except that you were my best friend. That's it. That's all you are to her — her brother's friend."

"Need proof? Think about it. When has my sister ever been there for you? In all these years, how many times has she visited, gone out with or even shown the slightest sliver of interest in you before tonight? News flash: you can count it on one hand. But do you know who she has dated or shown interest in? Numerous other boys, including Ralph Wiggum and Nelson Muntz."

"That's right. The girl you worship so much picked your bully over you!"

Milhouse paled, his confidence now gone, but Bart wasn't done.

"And here's the kicker — she didn't even get you a gift for tonight." He held up the box. "This? This was from me. Not us. Not her. Just me. That's how little you mean to her, Van Houten. It's your high-school graduation, a once-in-a-lifetime event. And my sister, the one you consider the 'best' Simpson couldn't even be bothered to get you anything."

"No gift. No card. Not even a damn gift voucher or a bit of paper with the word 'Congratulations' hastily scribbled on it!"

He let those words hang in the air for a moment before delivering the final blow.

"Wanna know what she said when I pointed that out?" He cleared his throat and then mimicked Lisa's voice in a mocking falsetto. "Oh, come on, Bart. This is Milhouse we're talking about. He'll be happy just to see me."

Silence fell over the party. Lisa, who had been glaring at Bart moments ago, shrank under the cold, knowing look he gave her. Milhouse himself stood frozen, his mouth open. The other guests stared at Lisa, dumbfounded. A few began whispering amongst themselves.

"That's not what I said, Bart!" Lisa snapped, her voice defensive as she tried to salvage her dignity. "I told you I was busy. Unlike you, I have to prepare for university. And I did agree to chip in for your present," she added, jabbing a finger at the box in his hand. "There just wasn't time for me to pay you."

She folded her arms across her chest.

"Not that it matters. Knowing you, it's probably just something cheap and tacky you grabbed from the comic book store."

A few people, mainly the ones who knew Bart, murmured in agreement, and some, like Sherri and Terri, even chuckled.

Bart's expression darkened. Without a word, he ripped off the wrapping paper and held up the contents for everyone to see. The laughter died instantly.

In Bart's hands was a sleek, top-of-the-line smartwatch — one they had all seen advertised on TV and social media. It was the latest model, cutting-edge, and the cheapest version cost over fifteen hundred dollars.

"Does this look cheap and tacky to you?" Bart challenged, throwing Lisa's words right back at her.

He flipped open the box and pulled out the watch, displaying it to the crowd. Then, pressing a button on the side, he activated the device.

A small hologram flickered to life above the screen.

"Greetings to the new owner of this device!" an AI voice announced in a smooth, feminine tone. "Your new watch has been activated. Before we begin setup procedures, you have one notification."

The entire garden fell quiet.

"The person who purchased this device wishes not only to congratulate you on your graduation but also to apologise for being such a poor friend these last few years. He acknowledges this isn't enough, but he wants you to know that he is genuinely sorry for everything that happened. He promises to be a better friend to you from now on—to never let you down or betray you again."

There was a pause, then a soft chime.

"This was a one-time message and will now be deleted. Message deleted. Shall we begin the setup procedure?"

Bart ignored the AI and turned to glare at Lisa and Milhouse, his voice cold as ice.

"That message cost me an extra three hundred bucks."

The guests remained deathly silent.

"Bart, where did you even get the money for that?" Lisa breathed, shaken by what she had just witnessed.

Bart's jaw tightened. "From Grandpa's inheritance," he said stiffly. "It was meant as a gesture to my best friend."

Lisa swallowed nervously at that comment. She knew how much Bart had adored their grandfather, how crushed he had been when Abe passed. The fact that he had even touched that money — money she knew he had been reluctant to spend — only reinforced how much this gesture had meant to him.

Bart ignored her, however, as he fixed the watch onto his own wrist.

"Guess I shouldn't have bothered, though, should I?" he spat, tossing the now-empty box onto the table between Lisa and Milhouse, before turning to glare at the latter.

"Because it turns out I don't have a best friend. Do I?"

Milhouse opened his mouth, but before he could utter a word, Bart stepped back, shaking his head. He fixed a steely glare on his former friend.

"I hope you enjoyed that kiss she gave you Van Houten, and that Lisa's smile is truly worth it. Because that's all you're ever going to get from her."

Without another word, Bart turned on his heel, marched over to his bike, got on and rode off into the night.

For a moment, nobody spoke. Then, all eyes slowly drifted back to Lisa — and this time, they weren't looking at her with admiration or intrigue.

Lisa felt the weight of their stares, her stomach twisting uncomfortably. She turned to Milhouse, desperate to salvage the situation.

"Oh, Milhouse, I'm so sorry," she said, reaching for his arm. "I didn't know Bart would act like that. I never—"

"Lisa…" Milhouse cut her off, his voice unsteady. His eyes flickered with uncertainty and confusion. "Is it true? What he just said? Did you… really not get me a present?"

Lisa froze. Her fingers curled against his bicep as she looked away, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

"I did—" she started, then sighed. "I didn't have time, Milhouse. What with everything going on," she admitted, her voice small. "But don't worry, I'm sure I can find a way to make it up to you."

These words did not have the intended effect.

Milhouse stiffened, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He stared at Lisa for a moment — as if he was seeing her for the first time. Then, slowly, he picked up the box that until a minute ago had contained Bart's new watch - a gift originally intended for him. He looked back at Lisa again. Then, with a heavy sigh, Milhouse pulled his arm out of her grasp and stepped away.

The crowd, which was already buzzing with murmurs, now watched Lisa with quiet condemnation.

From the back door, two figures stirred. Kurt and Luann Van Houten, their previous argument now completely forgotten, finally stepped forward. Kurt placed a comforting hand on his son's shoulder and muttered something that only Milhouse could hear, before leading him inside.

Luann gave her son an affectionate squeeze, then lingered behind, turning sharply towards Lisa.

"Young lady," she declared, her voice and expression firm, "I think you should follow your brother's example and leave. Now!"

She pointed at the gate for emphasis.

Lisa gaped at Luann, not used to hearing that tone directed at her. But as she looked around, reality set in. The party and its guests had turned against her, and it was clear from their expressions and barely muffled whispers that nobody, not even Milhouse, wanted her there anymore.

A few hours later at the Simpson residence…

"…and then, then – they just – they just threw me out!" Lisa sobbed miserably, finishing her recount of the evening. "He humiliated me in front of everybody," she choked out, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks, "and I – I didn't do anything wrong!"

She sat hunched on the couch, still wearing her ruined dress, her shoulders trembling, face now buried in her hands. Marge, seated beside her, let out a sad sigh, gently stroking Lisa's hair.

"Hmmm, I know, sweetie. I'm sorry," she murmured. "Bart can be so difficult sometimes. But we'll sort this out, okay?"

She turned to Homer for support, and he nodded. "Yeah, we'll take care of it," he assured Lisa.

Across the room, however, Maggie wasn't so convinced.

The 10-year-old, sitting curled up in the nearby armchair, frowned in suspicion. She should have been in bed by now, but two things had kept her awake.

First, about an hour ago, the front door had slammed shut, jolting her from sleep. Seconds later, heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs, followed by another door slamming. That was Bart, storming into his room.

Then, twenty minutes later, Lisa arrived home in tears, weeping loudly enough to make their parents come running. Curious, Maggie had crept downstairs to watch from the sidelines as Lisa dramatically recounted the night's events to their bewildered parents.

Or, more accurately, her version of events.

Maggie might be the youngest Simpson, but she wasn't stupid. She knew her siblings well and, having been on the receiving end of Marge and Homer's frequent neglect, had always felt a stronger bond with Bart than anyone else.

Now, watching Lisa's performance, Maggie's eyes narrowed. Lisa was hiding something.

Not that their parents had noticed.

Tired of the tears, Homer stomped into the hallway, planting himself at the foot of the stairs.

"BART!" he bellowed, shaking the house. "GET DOWN HERE, NOW!"

Silence.

Homer's scowl deepened. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, finally, they heard a door open, followed by slow, deliberate footsteps on the landing.

Marge helped Lisa to her feet, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Together, they turned to face the approaching figure.

But Homer and Marge's frowns faltered when Bart came into view.

His expression was dark. He had thrown a green jacket on over his party clothes. A backpack was slung over one shoulder, and under his other arm, he carried a worn sports bag.

"What?" Bart asked coldly.

Glaring at him, Homer pointed towards Lisa. "Apologize to your sister. Right now."

"No!"

Homer looked shocked for a moment but quickly recovered. "I said apologize!" he repeated in a commanding tone.

"Why don't you make me, Homer?" Bart shot back, his voice cold and unyielding.

"Bart, do as your father says!" Marge demanded, trying to keep her composure. "Don't you understand what you did? You threw punch all over your sister at your best friend's party!"

"Milhouse is not my friend anymore," Bart replied matter-of-factly. "And she deserved it."

"You take that back this instant, boy," Homer snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at his son. "Whatever this is about, nothing gives you the right to —"

"Oh sure, take her side, like you always do," Bart cut across him, his voice dripping with resentment. "What about what shedid, huh? Has Lisa even told you why I threw the punch and water on her?"

Marge hesitated for a moment, glancing at Lisa uncertainly. When she saw how miserable her daughter looked, however, her doubts faded, and her resolve returned.

"Bart, whatever you think happened, it doesn't excuse—"

"LISA SAID THAT I DESERVE A POOR LIFE!" Bart interrupted angrily, pointing at his sister, his eyes blazing with fury. "She told me, in front of everybody at the party, that I have no potential, called me an idiot and said that I'll amount to nothing. She stood there, smug as hell, telling me, right to my face that I got the life all 'good artists' deserve, and acting like she is the victim because she's going to Yale and doesn't have friends. And after all that, you know what she told me? That I was welcome, welcome for being excluded, overlooked and treated like an afterthought!"

"That's how little she thinks about me, Mum. Lisa thinks she deserves all the glory and attention, whilst I should be cast off to one side and that my feelings don't matter!"

The room fell into stunned silence. Marge's mouth dropped open. Maggie's eyes widened before narrowing into a glare as she turned towards Lisa, her suspicions confirmed. Even Homer, who had been gearing up to scold Bart, looked momentarily taken aback.

"L-Lisa," Marge breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, as she stepped away from her daughter. "Is that true? Did you actually say those things to your brother?"

Lisa sniffled, wringing her hands nervously as she avoided eye contact. "I – I didn't mean it like that," she insisted. "I was just upset … I didn't think he'd take it that way."

"Oh, come on, Marge," Homer said, waving a dismissive hand. "It's not like what she said isn't true. Besides, Bart's just overreacting."

He'd said the wrong thing.

"Overreacting?" Bart repeated, his voice deadly quiet. "You think I'm overreacting?"

"Oh, come on, boy," Homer said, rolling his eyes. "You're a grown man now, and kids say mean things all the time. It's not Lisa's fault you're misinterpreting a few simple comments."

The silence that followed was unsettling. Bart's face hardened, his fists clenching at his sides. Marge stiffened, realizing that Homer had just crossed an invisible line. Lisa, seeing the shift in Bart's demeanour, took an uneasy step back.

Marge opened her mouth to intervene. "Bart–"

But he dropped his bags onto the floor, cutting her off.

"All right then, Homer," Bart said, his voice eerily calm. Cracking his knuckles, he took a slow, deliberate step forward, locking eyes with his father. "Challenge accepted."

Homer frowned. "What the hell is that supposed to –"

"You think I'm overreacting?" Bart said, tilting his head mockingly. "Well then. Let's see how you like it… You fat, lazy oaf!"

Homer flinched.

"What did you just call me?" he gasped.

Bart smirked. "Yeah, not so nice, is it?" He folded his arms. "But it's only fair, right? You just said words don't matter. That I'm overreacting. So why are you getting upset?"

Marge looked frantically between the two of them. "Bart, please!" she pleaded, her arms raised placatingly. "Don't talk to your father like that –"

"AND WHY NOT?" Bart shouted, rounding on her. "It's only fair after everything he's done!" he yelled, pointing a finger at Homer.

"You know what, while we're on the subject, what about you, huh, Mum?" Bart declared, his eyes burning with years of pent-up frustration. "You're just as bad in your own way. No matter what these two say or do, you enable them. You let them get away with anything."

He jabbed a finger toward Lisa and Homer, his hand trembling with anger. "You're supposed to be my mum too, but that doesn't matter, does it? Because I'll always come second to your husband and your 'precious' Lisa."

Marge's mouth fell open. "Bart, that's - that's not true! I love you with all my heart, and I've always –"

"Then where were you on my twelfth birthday, huh?" Bart shot back, his voice rising. "Or any other day that really mattered?"

He walked towards her, his voice raw with emotion. "The moment Lisa announced she'd won another award, who got all the attention? When was the last time you and I did something together – just the two of us? When have you ever looked at me and said, 'I'm proud of you, Bart'? Do you even remember the time I actually won something at school? I got second place in the science fair once, but you barely even looked at my project before running off to help Lisa prepare for her 'big' debate."

Marge looked stricken, clutching at her arms as if holding herself together.

"Did you ever stop to think about what that felt like to me or Maggie?" Bart asked, glancing from his younger sister to his mother. "Did you ever notice how many times we walked away, thinking that we weren't worth your time? Or consider that maybe, just maybe I was acting out so that you would pay attention to me for more than five seconds?"

Marge opened her mouth, but no words came out. She swallowed, her hands tightening into fists at her sides.

"He's right," a new voice interjected.

Marge looked over at Maggie. Her youngest daughter's expression was as cold and serious as Bart's. Arms folded across her chest, Maggie looked at her brother, then back at her mother and nodded.

"You've always neglected us, in favour of her!"

Marge felt a cold shiver run down her spine as those words shattered her heart.

Prompted, Bart turned toward Lisa.

"Hey, Lisa, you want to know something?" he asked mockingly, his eyes burning with an anger that had been simmering for years.

"I held back at the party. Despite how I feel about you, I only showed a fraction of it. But since you have no problem tearing into others, allow me to return the favour. Here's what I really think about you…"

He paused for effect before spitting out the words.

"You're a brat! A selfish, entitled, spoiled, attention-seeking brat!"

Lisa looked as if she had been slapped.

"You act like you're the moral compass of this family. That you're smarter, kinder, and better than everyone else. But you're not. You're just as selfish and entitled as anyone else – maybe even more so, because you think you're above it."

"Maggie and I? We never mattered as much as you. It's always been about you and your accomplishments. And you know what? Fine. You're smart, you're talented – no one's denying that. But it was never enough for you, was it? The moment the attention shifted, you had to claw it back. If someone else did better than you, suddenly you were the victim; the poor, mistreated, misunderstood genius who the world just didn't 'understand.' And if you had to hurt someone to stay on top? So be it."

Lisa's lips parted as if to argue, but Bart didn't give her the chance.

"That's why nobody at school could stand you. And you think Yale will be any different? You think the people there won't see through you, too?"

"That's not true!" Lisa snapped, her voice shaking. "I'm just –"

"Oh, it's true," Bart shot back. "And the fact that you're already trying to defend yourself instead of listening? That proves it."

Marge let out a small, wounded noise, but Bart ignored her.

"When was the last time you actually acknowledged someone else's accomplishments without making it about yourself? I'll tell you when – never. Because you only care about winning. About being the best. And anyone who doesn't share your opinions, or fit into your little world of perfect grades and classical music? You look down on them like they're beneath you. It's not just me - it's everybody you've ever known."

Lisa's expression crumpled slightly, but Bart wasn't done.

"You really hurt Van Houten's feelings tonight by not getting him a present. Did she mention that, by the way?" he asked, turning to his relatives.

Marge and Maggie's confused expressions told him all he needed to know.

Bart snorted. "Yeah, didn't think so. Because all you cared about was how embarrassed you were, Lisa. Not the acquaintance you humiliated. Not the brother you brushed off when he told you how much you'd hurt him. Just you. Classic. Narcissism!"

Lisa recoiled, her hands clenching into fists. She looked at her brother in disbelief, struggling to hold back tears.

Bart watched his sister with an almost bitter amusement.

"Yeah, it stings, doesn't it?" he said, moving in front of her. "Hearing how little somebody in your own family thinks about you? Well, guess what? Maybe it's time you learned the truth about the world, Lisa. Life isn't some dumb cartoon where everything magically works out in your favour. Actions have consequences, Lis, and I am loving how, for tonight at least, you don't get to walk away from them."

"And you know what?" he asked sarcastically, pointing to himself as his voice adopted a familiar, mocking tone. "If it is my fault for making this happen. For giving you a dose of karma and showing everybody what you really are. For giving you a reality check that, maybe, makes you look properly in the mirror for once, you're welcome!"

Lisa swallowed hard, her entire body rigid with shock. Bart folded his arms across his chest, looking down at her triumphantly.

For the first time ever, Lisa had no retort for him.

"Knock it off, boy!" Homer yelled, grabbing Bart by the shoulder and spinning him around. "Don't talk to your sister like that. Lisa's special, and you need to –"

"Oh, don't worry, Homer, I'm done with her now," Bart said, his voice now cold but eerily calm again. "I saved the best for last, however. Let's talk about you now – the great defender of the golden child."

Homer scoffed, crossing his arms. "Oh yeah? And what are you gonna say about me?"

"That you're a complete and utter failure," Bart replied without hesitation.

Homer's smugness evaporated. Marge sucked in a breath. Lisa looked stunned. Even Maggie, who had been supporting Bart throughout the argument, shrank back slightly.

"You're a fat, lazy man who stumbles through life screwing up everything he touches. I used to look up to you when I was younger, you know that? I thought you were funny. Thought you were cool. But as I got older, I realized the truth - you're not cool. You're not funny. You're just … pathetic."

Homer's jaw tightened.

"You're supposed to be my father. You were supposed to be Maggie's father. But instead, you chose to be Lisa's biggest fan, her number-one cheerleader, while Maggie and I were just … there. Did you ever once stop and think about us? Did you ever wonder what it was like to grow up knowing that no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I'd never be good enough for you?"

Homer offered no response, not that Bart gave him the chance to.

"Remember what you said to me once? About how being a parent cost you your innocence? How you thought I'd end up just like you – another loser?"

Marge, Lisa, and Maggie all turned to look at Homer, their eyes wide with disbelief. But Bart wasn't done.

"Well, guess what? Grandpa figured out the truth about you a long time ago. He taught me to never be like you. He told me that even when you were growing up, he knew you were a screw up and that you'd amount to nothing. And you proved him right in the end, didn't you?"

"You slack off at a job you hate, spending more time trying to avoid work than actually doing it. You treated your father like a burden and your son like an inconvenience. And when you're not failing at work or being a terrible husband, father and son, you're down at Moe's, drinking with the same losers you've been hanging around with since before I was born."

Homer was standing deathly still, his breathing growing heavy.

"You wanna know the worst part?" Bart continued. "You had a chance to change. You had a chance to be better. But you never did. And you never will. Because deep down, you don't care. You don't care about anything or anyone as long as you get to sit on that couch, drink your beer, and pretend your life isn't a complete joke."

Silence. Absolute silence. Then Bart dealt the final blow.

"That's why Grandpa left everything to me."

Homer, Marge, Lisa and Maggie all flinched.

"Fifty thousand dollars. That's how much he thought my life was worth," Bart lamented appreciatively.

"And what about you? His son? His only child? He left you a pile of old junk. A couple of boxes of clothes that nobody would wear, some partially-used toiletries, and a bunch of worthless trinkets you ended up selling for a grand total of what – two hundred bucks?"

Homer pulled his lips back, his balled-up fists beginning to shake as he stared at his son without blinking.

"Wanna know why he did it?" Bart asked, taking another step forward, looking his father dead in the eye. "Because he knew you. He knew you were worthless and weren't worth a damn."

"And you know what? ... He was right!"

Marge, Lisa and Maggie all gasped silently. Homer, his body trembling, glared at his son, his teeth bared.

"Why – YOU LITTLE —"

He lunged forward, his arms outstretched. The Simpson women all screamed, but Bart did not back down. He caught Homer's wrists before they could latch around his throat, and for a brief moment, they struggled. That was when Homer realized something. Bart was stronger than him.

With a sharp movement, Bart threw his father aside. Homer staggered, tripping over his own feet, before toppling over and crashing into the back of the sofa with a loud cry. Marge gasped, rushing over to kneel at his side. Lisa covered her mouth. Maggie stood wide-eyed, rooted to the spot.

Bart on the other hand, didn't move. He didn't hit Homer again, shout at him, nor show any sign of aggression. He just stood there, fists clenched at his sides, staring down at the man who had been the centre of his resentment for so long. As Marge held his uninjured shoulder, Homer looked up at his son, rubbing the back of his head.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Homer," Bart said matter-of-factly. "You don't get to strangle me and pretend it's just a joke. You don't get to ignore me anymore or push me around and expect me to take it. You lost that right a long time ago."

For a moment, nobody said anything.

"Bart -" Lisa finally started to say in that disappointed voice she often used.

"NO!" Bart yelled, his voice cracking across hers like a whip, refusing to be manipulated any further. "No! I've had enough. I'm done!"

He reached into his pocket, pulled something out, and threw it at his father.

"D'oh!" Homer grunted as the object bounced off his forehead and clattered to the floor. Everyone's eyes fell on it.

It was a key.

The key to the front door.

"I'm done," Bart repeated, his voice calm but absolute. "I'm out. I am not going to live under this roof any longer."

"Wha -" Marge gasped.

"No, Bart. Wait -" Maggie pleaded, her voice small but desperate.

Bart ignored them. His hands curling into fists as he glared at his parents.

"I've known where I stand in this family for a long time, and it's not here. You two have made it abundantly clear that Lisa is the only one of us who really matters to you. Well, fine. If you want her so badly, she can have you!"

He threw up his arms in a mock gesture of surrender. "I give up. I surrender. I won't get in your way, trying to win your love or affection anymore. Enjoy your perfect little family."

"AND I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!" Bart shouted as Lisa stepped forward, her lips parted in protest. He raised a finger towards her, his expression cold and unforgiving.

"As far as I'm concerned, we are no longer related. Lisa Marie Simpson, as of this moment, you are no longer my sister."

Lisa recoiled, her breath catching in her throat.

Bart turned to Homer, his voice full of hatred and resentment.

"And you are not my Dad anymore either. Ned Flanders has been more of a parent to me than you ever were. My real father, however, was Abraham Simpson, and he died three years ago. You, Homer Jay Simpson? You're not even worth calling an acquaintance, let alone a fellow Simpson."

Homer, who had never cared about Bart's opinion – dismissing him as someone who would always be present – felt something inside him twist in a way he didn't understand.

"Wha – wha – what?" he whimpered, his voice thick with shock.

Bart ignored him and turned to Marge, whose hands were trembling.

"Mum…" He hesitated, his voice softer. "With time and a bit of effort, maybe… maybe I could forgive you. But until then, as long as you stand by these two? As long as you keep enabling them? Just stay away from me."

Marge gasped, tears spilling over. "Bart, you – you don't mean that! You can't mean any of this!"

Bart's lips curled into a humourless smile. "Yes, I do. You've never cared about me. You've neglected me my whole life, passing me over in favour of Lisa. Well, so be it. You made your bed. Now lie in it."

Then his gaze shifted to Maggie. The only one in the room who wasn't staring at him in shock, horror, or anger. The only one whose eyes weren't full of disbelief – but sorrow.

Bart's expression softened immediately. Walking over to her, he knelt at her level before wrapping his arms around her smaller frame. She clung to him, shaking.

"I'm sorry, Mags," he muttered sincerely, stroking the back of her head. "Sorry, you had to see all that."

"Bart, you're not - you're not really leaving, are you?" Maggie sniffled.

Bart sighed. Pulling back, he cupped her small shoulders, his voice gentle but firm.

"Yeah, I am. But listen to me – no matter where I go, no matter what happens, there'll always be a place there for you. You hear me? You're still my sister and, as of now, my only remaining relative. Remember that."

"Your family is toxic. So whenever your parents neglect you in favour of her, you come to me, alright. I'll always have a bed waiting for you. Okay?"

Maggie swallowed hard but nodded.

Marge, Lisa, and Homer, however, were more concerned about Bart's statement.

It wasn't just what he had said.

It was how he'd said it.

"Your family."

Not our family.

"Your parents."

Not our parents. Not Mum and Dad.

"Her."

Not Lisa. Not our sister.

The realisation hit them all like a thunderbolt.

Bart wasn't bluffing.

He had already erased them from his life.

Letting go of Maggie, Bart stood up. He gave his youngest sister a final, sympathetic look before turning to his ex-family. For a long moment, he simply glared at each of the relatives he had disowned. Then, without another word, Bart strode back into the hall and picked up his bags.

"No! Bart, please - WAIT!" Marge cried, scrambling to her feet.

Bart ignored her. Yanking open the door, he stepped outside. Marge rushed after him, but Bart didn't even glance back.

Maggie ran to the window, pressing her small hands against the glass. She watched on sadly as her brother awkwardly piled his possessions onto his bike and then rode off into the night, ignoring their mother's desperate pleas and protests.

The darkness soon swallowed him.

Once he was gone, Marge collapsed to her knees on the porch, sobbing uncontrollably.

Maggie meanwhile turned her head, her face twisting in fury as she glared at Lisa and Homer.

Lisa, who had been helping Homer to his feet, froze when she saw her youngest sister's expression.

"Don't look at me like that," Lisa said nonchalantly. "This is Bartwe're talking about. He'll come back once he gets tired or hungry."

Maggie didn't say anything. She just continued to glare at Lisa.

(AN: AN: AN: For this part, insert a song that you believe to be uplifting, motivational and a symbol of change for the better. To avoid any copyright issues, I won't suggest any titles.)

Lisa was confident in this declaration. So much so, that when she came down to breakfast the following morning, she expected to see her brother sitting at the table, tucking into a bowl of cereal or a hot meal their mother had prepared for him. When she arrived, however, Bart's chair was empty.

Homer, walking in behind her a few moments later saw the same thing and came to an abrupt halt. Marge, whose eyes were still red and puffy and Maggie, who had been eating a bowl of Krusty O's looked up at them silently. For a long moment, the quartet just stared at each other.

Then Maggie, taking her bowl in both hands, stood up and exited the room without a word. Marge, still looking miserable followed after her. Lisa and Homer glanced at each other nervously but didn't say anything.

(AN: AN: What follows next is a description of the images accompanying the music to show what happened to each character over the next seven years. To make things easier, I shall list each character and let you fit them together).

Homer Simpson

Following Bart's departure, Homer tried to talk to his wife and youngest daughter but was rejected at every turn. The sour mood did dissipate with time but it was clear that Marge and Maggie only tolerated him now. Homer tried to do what he had always done, and indulge Lisa's interests but she left the house for university not long afterwards. With Bart gone and Maggie not interested in him, Homer began to feel lonely.

Plus, you know when life sometimes plays tricks on you? When karma pays you back for the mistakes you've made? That's what happened here.

As the years went by, Homer began to see strangers and people he knew having good father-son relations. Whether it was seeing an invitation to a father-son picnic. Watching them share a meal whenever he went for takeout, or share stories with each other over a pint at Moe's. He saw fathers coaching their son's teams on the playing field or heard his work colleagues talking about their children and how glad they were to have them.

This began to make Homer realise just what he had missed out on with Bart and his own father.

Milhouse Van Houten

Milhouse fell into depression following the party. In addition to losing the opportunity to own the best watch in the world, he had lost his best and only real friend and learnt just how little Lisa considered his feelings. His parents tried to cheer him up, but nothing they said or did worked.

Then one morning, a few weeks after the party, there was a knock at the door. It was Lisa!

She had come to apologise and, to make up for not getting him a present, offered to take him out on a date before going to university. Upon hearing this, Milhouse snapped out of his depression and became instantly elated. After years of waiting, his dream of going on a date with Lisa had finally come true.

He eagerly accepted the offer and left the house with her. As the day dragged on, however, Milhouse's joy dissipated as he began to realise that Bart was right: Lisa knew absolutely nothing about him. They spent the day going to the places SHE liked and getting the things SHE wanted. Throughout it, Lisa talked animatedly about what they were looking at (e.g. fossils, diagrams and paintings) letting him pay for the event and ignoring all hints that he was bored.

Finally, late in the afternoon, they went to Krusty Burger, where Lisa made him order vegan food. By now Milhouse was miserable, but Lisa, still talking animatedly, didn't notice. She continued to ramble excitedly whilst he played quietly with his vegetable fries.

His fortunes changed, however, when Lisa's stomach began to rumble. She'd eaten a bad burger and was eventually forced to leave the table. As Milhouse sighed sadly, a young brunette waitress with glasses suddenly came up to him with a fresh tray. On it were all his favourite foods. He was shocked to hear that the meal was on the house and when he looked over, spotted a familiar figure behind the kitchen counter. That person held up a napkin, pointing at it. Milhouse looked at the tray and saw a note scribbled onto his own napkin.

'Her name is Bella'.

Milhouse looked at the waitress, then at his former acquaintance, who nodded encouragingly. That was how Milhouse got talking to Bella. To his astonishment, he soon learned they had a lot in common. After about 10 minutes of talking, Bella's watch beeped, indicating it was time to clock out.

Seizing her chance, Bella asked if Milhouse wanted to go somewhere. He immediately said yes, and as she left to get ready, Milhouse quickly finished his meal. As he wiped the grease from his mouth with a fresh napkin, he looked over at the kitchen gratefully, where a certain someone gave him a thumbs up. When Lisa returned 10 minutes later, Milhouse was gone.

Milhouse got together with Bella soon afterwards. He renewed his relationship with his friend, and within a few years, they both had identical watches.

As for Lisa, she eventually hooked up with Nelson, and although she remained part of his life, Milhouse never looked at her in a romantic light again!

Maggie Simpson

Maggie felt sad following her brother's departure. She missed him dreadfully, especially when Lisa and Homer began acting like their usual selves again. Marge, mercifully was a little better, but years of favouritism had affected not only their relationship but Marge's ability to break out of bad habits. As such, Maggie spent most of her time on her computer and phone.

Then, about two years after Bart moved out, Maggie came to his doorstep crying. It turned out that Lisa had done so well during her second year at university, that the board had decided to let her skip the third year and go straight into masters, with a full scholarship. (Note: I don't know if this is a thing but hey, it's a Fanfiction). This wouldn't have been a bad thing, had she not chosen to announce it on MAGGIE'S BIRTHDAY.

Upon hearing the news, their parents, who were talking to Lisa on a video call, dropped everything they were doing and rushed out to hear more. Maggie was so distraught that she ran out of the house and across town to Bart's apartment. It was some time before the rest of the family even realised that she was gone!

Fortunately for Maggie, her big brother was there for her. For lunch, he got her a free meal at Krusty Burger (you'll learn how soon enough), then took her to the bike shop where he currently worked. After getting her the latest model, with all the extras (for a discount) Bart took Maggie to her favourite restaurant, making his little sister feel truly special.

Before that, however, Bart treated her to a little display of acrobatics on both the bike and his skateboard. This caught the attention of the other skate park attendees who asked if he could teach them how to perform those tricks. Soon enough, Maggie and Bart had made new friends. After that Maggie began splitting her time between home and Bart's residence. Later, when she expressed interest in becoming a singer, Bart, unlike Homer, encouraged her

Marge Simpson

Marge spent the first week following Bart's departure sitting in his room, looking through photo albums. As she stared at the pictures she hadn't looked at in years, Marge began to realise something. There were very few with Bart in them, and the family or group pictures that did include him, especially from the age of twelve upwards, always showed him glowering at his family, particularly Lisa. Although she did eventually recover enough to return to her usual routine, Bart's absence remained noticeable to her.

Then, two years after he left, something happened that made Marge recognise the truth about herself. For the first time since he left, Bart contacted her. It was a simple message, reminding her that she had forgotten her youngest daughter's birthday and how HE had taken care of it. Marge was horrified when she heard this, as it made her realise that she was about to start the cycle of neglect all over again. Thus, when Maggie finally came home, Marge apologised profusely and, following a severe verbal lashing asked her youngest daughter for a favour.

A few days later, Marge and Maggie showed up at Bart's apartment with a casserole dish containing one of his favourite meals. Bart let them in and had a tearful reunion with his mother. A long conversation followed, in which many harsh truths were pointed out. In the end though, Marge told him how much she missed him and how sorry she was for treating him as she did. Recognising her sincerity, Bart forgave her and the pair began to work on rebuilding their relationship.

Bart Simpson

After leaving the house, Bart cycled across town until he found a cheap motel. His room was dark and had few essentials, i.e. no TV, cooker, washing machine etc. Life would be difficult those first few months but whenever Bart thought about giving up or returning home, he remembered Lisa's words and that inspired him to keep going.

The morning after he checked in, Bart went into town, bought a second-hand suit and then went around looking for a job. He was rejected countless times due to his past actions, poor references and low grades, but eventually, he managed to land a job at Krusty Burger, working in the kitchen and the drive-thru-till. It wasn't a high-paying job, but for the first time in his life, Bart became financially independent. Plus, as a big fan of Krusty, working at one of his idol's establishments was like a dream come true for him.

Bart worked at that particular branch for just over 2 years. Initially, it was just a means to an end, whilst he tried to decide what to do with himself. However, two things happened that made the job not only beneficial but memorable. The first was that he was able to fix his friendship with Milhouse, with a bit of help from his co-worker Bella.

The second happened when a young child had a massive tantrum in the middle of the store one day. The limited edition Krusty Burger and toy he wanted were no longer available. Nothing that the parents or manager did would calm the boy down, until Bart had a sudden inspiration. Realising that the child shared his love for Krusty, Bart rearranged the lettuce, tomato sauce, gherkin and onions inside the burger to make it look like Krusty's face. Presenting it to the boy Bart asked if he would like to be the first customer to try it. The plan worked like a treat, fixing the issue and earning Bart a commendation from his manager and co-workers.

There was, however, a small hitch. Several other customers demanded the same merchandise even though it wasn't on the menu. Over the next week, Bart was forced to make hundreds of the burgers until finally, corporate got involved!

He was summoned to the head office, where to his shock, he met Krusty, several high-ranking executives and a team of lawyers. To Bart's astonishment, the group made him a proposition. Since Bart had created it, they wanted to buy the rights to the burger, making it look as if they had come up with the idea themselves. The negotiations were long, but in the end, Bart settled on an upfront payment of $50,000, a lifetime supply of free food from the Krusty Burger chain, a small monetary compensation whenever the burger came back out and finally, a signed photograph of him shaking hands with his idol.

This picture went straight into a photo frame on his wall and, somehow, made its way to the front page of the local newspaper!

Not long afterwards, Bart, now living in a proper apartment, started attending Springfield Community College. He originally took night lessons, trying to see if there was any merit to Lisa's comments. As loathed as he was to admit it, her words were born out. His repressed talent for drawing was given a free reign and soon began to flourish. He began to express himself through his drawings and paintings, some of which were put on display in art galleries and temporary exhibitions.

One day, his tutor took him to one side and asked if he had ever considered graphic design. Bart hadn't but after enrolling in a short course found that he really enjoyed the subject. Taking his tutor's suggestion, he enrolled on a 2-year course.

It was around this time that Bart decided to leave Krusty Burger. He enjoyed working at the shop, but if he was going to make it as a graphic designer he needed more experience in a relevant field. Fortunately, Abraham Simpson was watching out for his grandson from beyond the grave. Gummy Joe, an old acquaintance of his late grandfather, offered to employ Bart as an assistant in his bike shop, helping to assemble and repaint the bikes.

Joe turned out to be a good boss. In addition to teaching Bart the works, he allowed him to redecorate the walls with his art, adding a bit of colour and life to the establishment. Bart used this opportunity to pay tribute to the man he considered his real father. He drew a large portrait of Abraham on the back wall by the children's bikes, along with happy memories from his childhood and an important quote Abe used to say to him (AN: I'll let you choose one). Later, Bart added a picture of Maggie and Marge on the security shutter (NOT Lisa).

All in all, Bart's schedule was hectic. Between college, his job and coaching the skateboarders/cyclists, he had hardly any free time. Yet somehow, he managed to balance his professional and social lives, meeting up with his friends, mother and youngest sister whenever possible.

His only bad encounter during this time frame was with his former frenemy Nelson. At first, it seemed that Muntz had, for some inexplicable reason, come to return the money he had stolen from Bart during their youth. Bart was initially grateful but then Nelson revealed that Lisa had put him up to it. Although secretly pleased to hear that his estranged sister had found somebody who loved her, Bart kicked Nelson out of the shop and cut him out of his life (for now).

Finally, after two long years, Bart graduated. Bella, Maggie, Marge, Milhouse and Joe all attended the ceremony, clapping along with the others and Bart for the first time ever felt content. That night, Joe announced that he was retiring. He bequeathed the business to Bart, saying it was in good hands. With that, Bart became a business owner and not long afterwards he started his own company: - El Barto Designs.

Lisa Simpson

Meanwhile, Lisa's transition into university and adulthood was not so pleasant.

Following her failed attempt at reconciliation with Milhouse, she left for Yale. At first, it looked as though everything would be alright. She settled in well, made new friends and took to her subjects extremely well. A little too well in fact.

Just as she had done in school, Lisa strove to come out on top and, whenever she didn't, set out to improve herself. She always made sure that she was the one in the right, filling her room with accolades and trophies and even objecting to her lecturer's opinions on more than a few occasions. By the end of the first year, all of her friends had left her.

Her life at the Simpson residence wasn't much better either. Maggie was distant from her older sister and, following Lisa's second year, proceeded to ignore her completely. Although she did eventually strike up a relationship with Nelson, Milhouse didn't want to hang around with Lisa anymore due to his new girlfriend, she had no other people her age to turn to and, strangely, even her mother seemed detached. Lisa tried to hang out with her father, but Homer simply didn't understand her or her subjects the way she did.

Eventually, Lisa was offered the opportunity to accelerate her learning via a master's degree. She immediately took it and began working in a lab with some fellow researchers. Through this, they were able to make significant developments in the field of medicine. This led to further projects, making them all extremely wealthy and important in their field of study until, finally, the group won a prestigious award for their accomplishments and research.

The university agreed to host the presentation and after-party. It was meant to be a massive celebration of the student's accomplishments, and it would have been, if not for one thing…

Lisa was asked to give the acceptance speech!

The event was attended by her parents, her fellow graduates, their families, several faculty members and other prestigious scientists. After accepting the award, Lisa was invited to say a few words. She proceeded to give a long speech about her life, along with the trials and tribulations she'd faced, whilst neglecting to mention any of her colleagues' contributions. Ultimately, she made it look as though she had done all the research herself, making the faculty, her fellow students, teammates and even her parents look extremely bad.

Unsurprisingly, her speech received a lukewarm reception. Only her father, boyfriend and a handful of other people bothered applauding. The rest either looked around the room in confusion or, to Lisa's astonishment, glared directly at her.

The party that followed was, if anything, even worse for Lisa. Initially, the guests, lecturers and other students were talking animatedly amongst themselves and enjoying the celebrations. But when Lisa and her family entered, the entire room fell silent. Lisa initially thought that they were going to applaud her, as the head researcher, but when she saw the mix of hostile and uncertain looks, her smile faltered.

After a moment, everybody put down their glasses, plates and other utensils before walking out of an adjacent exit. The message was clear: nobody wanted to be in the same room as Lisa. Even Professor Aldridge, the man who'd originally invited Lisa to the University and supervised her studies, turned his nose up at her as he walked away.

In the end, Lisa, Homer, Nelson and Marge remained in an otherwise empty room, with no music, entertainment or anybody else to talk to. Homer and Nelson looked at Lisa sympathetically, but Marge simply folded her arms across her chest and stared at her daughter in a disapproving manner.

Not long afterwards, Lisa, now a faculty employee, returned home for a visit. Homer, in typical fashion, embraced his daughter warmly, but the hug her mother bestowed upon her was fleeting, and Maggie refused to come anywhere near her sister. At lunch, Homer tried to talk to Lisa about the new discoveries she was making, though he failed to understand exactly what she was saying. Marge and Maggie, meanwhile, did not interject or show any interest in what Lisa was saying. They just ate their food silently, glaring between Lisa, each other, and the empty chair at the table.

The culmination of all this was that Lisa and Homer went to see a therapist. Fittingly and ironically, they ended up speaking to the same man who had originally told Homer that he needed to spend more time with his son. After listening to their statements over several sessions, the doctor delivered his verdict.

Pointing at Lisa, he told her bluntly that her brother was right. She was a brat and a narcissist.

As Lisa recoiled, the man turned to Homer and asked what ultimately became of Bart. Homer admitted that he did not know, they had not spoken since the altercation. After verifying that Homer had disregarded his previous order to spend more time with his son, the therapist was so overcome that he leapt out of his chair and slapped Homer across the face.

A few weeks later, Homer and Lisa, grinning from ear to ear, entered the front room side by side, whereupon Homer proudly held up a deposit cheque from the bank. They had filed a lawsuit against the therapist for his actions. To save face, the company not only fired the man but offered to settle things out of court. The money was decent and had just been paid into Homer's account…

But his wife and youngest daughter could not have cared less.

As Homer was rounding off his victory speech, Marge marched over to him silently. Without warning, she snatched the receipt out of his hand and ripped it up. As Homer and Lisa spluttered in protest, Marge threw the pieces onto the floor, told them both to shut up. Then she slapped them, first Homer, then Lisa. Hard across the face!

With that, Marge Simpson subjected her husband and oldest daughter to a lecture several years in the making. Pointing at each of them in turn, she proceeded to call them both out on their terrible behaviour, declaring that they had torn her family apart (pointing at the last family portrait for emphasis) and were everything Bart had said they were. Following a few more harsh comments and home truths, Marge stated that if Homer and Lisa wanted to continue like this, choosing money and success over the people who once loved them, they could do so alone!

Rant over and having given them until the morning to decide, Marge stormed angrily up the stairs into the master bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Maggie, who had been glowering at the pair silently from the armchair, stood up. With a disgusted huff, she turned away from her stunned father and sibling, walking out of the room towards the kitchen, her chin raised and nose in the air!

Left alone in the front room, their celebratory mood gone and Marge's words ringing in their ears, Homer and Lisa turned to look at each other …

"YES, everybody do the Bartman!" Bart cheered, pumping his fists into the air with each word. He closed his laptop, leaned back against the sofa, and put his hands behind his head with a content sigh.

Another successful deal had just been secured for his growing graphic design business. A couple of companies had reached out about buying the logos he'd designed, and someone had even made an offer on some of his paintings. It wasn't much to boast about, but he could add a couple more grand to his savings — with plenty left over for daily expenses and occasional treats. Not bad for somebody who was only 25 years old.

Glancing at the giant clock on the wall, Bart decided it was time to prepare dinner. He stood up, just wondering what to cook when a loud knock interrupted his thoughts.

Curious, Bart made his way to the door. He wasn't expecting anybody, but he'd had unexpected visitors before.

His confusion turned to shock when he saw who was standing there.

"Hey, Bart…" Homer said uncertainly, offering a small wave.

Bart didn't hesitate. He slammed the door in their faces.

Hoping they'd take the hint, he turned and walked back into the apartment. He barely made it a few steps before another knock came.

"Bart, please," Lisa called through the door. "We just want to talk."

"I've got nothing to say to you!" he shot back immediately.

"Bart, please," Lisa pleaded. "We — we want to apologize."

Bart hesitated.

Part of him screamed to ignore them, to shut them out like they had shut him out for years. But another part — the part that still yearned for their approval — urged him to at least hear them out.

With a deep groan, he turned back around and reluctantly opened the door.

"Make it quick," he said, crossing his arms.

They hesitated.

"Can we, uh… can we come in?" Lisa asked nervously.

Bart narrowed his eyes but eventually stepped aside. Lisa and Homer shuffled in, their eyes darting around the room. It was a decently sized studio apartment, well-kept and modern, with a few personal touches — skateboards mounted on the walls, a work desk and drafting table in one corner, a painting stand in another. Above the couch hung one of Bart's paintings, bold and vibrant.

"Nice place," Homer offered weakly.

"Yes, really nice," Lisa added, still scanning the room like she was searching for the right thing to say.

Bart let the awkward silence drag on before cutting it short.

"Cut the chatter," he said flatly, leaning against the doorframe. "Either say what you came here to say, or get out."

Lisa and Homer exchanged a glance, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Finally, Lisa stepped forward, her voice quiet.

"Bart we – we've come to make amends."

"That so?" Bart's voice was completely neutral, his expression devoid of any hope or interest.

Lisa swallowed. "You – you were right about us. About… everything."

"Hmph," Bart scoffed. "A bit late for that now, isn't it?"

"We know," Homer admitted, his shoulders sagging. "But we've had a lot of time to think about how we treated you and how unreasonable we were."

Bart's expression hardened. "Oh, so you've suddenly had an epiphany after all these years? What brought this on? Guilt? Regret? Or did people finally stop kissing your asses?"

Lisa winced, whilst Homer grimaced.

"Bart, please," Lisa pressed. "We want to make things right. We want to be a family again."

Bart let out a short, bitter laugh. "Oh, I get it. This isn't about me. This is about you. About your feelings. Your peace of mind." He shook his head. "Nothing's changed."

"No, it isn't like that," Lisa insisted. "We really do regret everything. We realize how much we hurt you. How unfair we were."

Bart folded his arms tighter. "Maggie texted me."

Homer and Lisa stiffened.

"She told me everything. About the therapist, Mom's lecture, and your little university speech. She told me how lonely you are, Homer." He looked at Lisa. "And how people are finally starting to see through you."

Lisa lowered her head. Homer looked away.

"That—that was months ago, boy," Homer muttered.

"But not long enough for people to forget," Bart countered. "You two haven't changed. You're still selfish. You're still uncaring. The only difference now is that people are finally starting to realize it."

A heavy silence followed. Lisa and Homer looked genuinely hurt. Despite himself, Bart felt a twinge of guilt.

"That's not fair," Lisa said quietly.

"Yeah, well, it's how I feel," Bart replied without sympathy. "Lisa, when we were kids, you couldn't let me have a single moment. You always had to be smarter. Better. More successful. And you, Homer — you made it clear every damn day who your favourite child was. You never cared about me unless it was to scold me or compare me to her."

Lisa opened her mouth, and then shut it.

"We – we didn't see it that way then," she said at last. "But we do now."

Bart scoffed. "And that's supposed to make everything okay?" His expression darkened. "I haven't heard from you in seven years. Seven years. You never once reached out. Never once tried to fix things."

"You blocked all of our contacts," Lisa reminded him.

"And?" Bart snapped. "You still could've found me! We have mutual friends. Maggie knows my address. My business has fliers all over town. You never even tried."

Lisa shuffled uncomfortably. "We wanted to, Bart" she insisted. "I did – I was there on that day Nelson came to visit you at the bike shop. I kept out of sight though, because … well, I didn't know how you'd react. How you'd feel about seeing me."

Bart let out a dry laugh. "You know damn well how I feel about you. I made that clear seven years ago. But even then, it wouldn't have killed you to at least try."

Lisa flinched but didn't deny it. Homer looked away uncomfortably.

Bart took a slow breath and straightened up.

"Maggie and I talk all the time. She is my sister. I may not see her as regularly as I once did, but we are still family and I support her." He let that sink in before continuing. "And Mum… she owned up to her mistakes. She apologised and we worked through our issues. We're good now. We have a great bond. I let her back into my life because she proved she was sorry."

He looked between them.

"What about you, huh?"

Lisa swallowed, guilt flashing in her eyes.

"You still haven't even said the words, either of you," Bart pointed out. "Not once."

"Alright, I'm not a millionaire like you, Lisa. But I've built a good life for myself. This apartment? Mine. The graphic design work? That's me. I coach local skateboarders and cyclists. The bike shop brings in steady income. I'm financially secure. I'm happy. And you know what? I did it all without you stealing my thunder."

He stepped closer.

"So why now?" His voice was sharp. "Why do you care now? You let me go seven years ago, and we were all fine with it. So give me one honest reason to think that you've actually changed. One reason I should let you back into my life."

Homer and Lisa exchanged another look but didn't answer right away. As the seconds ticked by, Bart's frustration grew. He scowled at them, waiting for the usual excuses, the justifications, the subtle ways they'd make this about him being difficult.

Instead, Homer reached into his pocket, tapped a few buttons on his phone, and turned the screen toward his estranged son. When he spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically soft.

"I bought one of your paintings."

Bart blinked, caught genuinely off guard. Of all the things he'd expected to hear, that wasn't even on the list.

"What?"

"I bought one of your paintings," Homer repeated, tilting the phone so that Bart could see. Sure enough, the image on the screen was unmistakably one of his works. "Your mother and I … we've been keeping up with your exhibits, your shows. We've got all the catalogues at home."

Bart's mouth felt dry. "You have?"

Homer nodded. "I wasn't sure at first, but when I saw this one, I just … I knew I had to have it. It's hanging in the living room, right above the mantle. Next to the family portrait."

"Where everybody can see it," Bart whispered.

Lisa nodded and stepped forward, her hand in her pocket. Smiling she said, in a voice softer than he was used to "We actually want to get another one … for the dining room."

Bart's head snapped toward her.

"And I'd like one for my office," she added. "I've also been following you on social media. I couldn't reach out personally since you, uh, blocked me …" she gave a small, awkward shrug, "but Nelson showed me everything. I've seen what you've built, how much effort you put into El Barto Designs. I even recommended you to a few people I work with. They were really impressed."

Bart stared at them. His heart pounded, his brain struggling to catch up.

"You've been following me?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "You actually noticed?"

Homer nodded. "Yeah, Bart. We noticed."

Lisa smiled at him. "And we're so proud of you."

Bart inhaled sharply. Those words, so simple, yet so foreign. He'd spent so long convinced they saw him as nothing but a screw-up, a problem to be managed, a joke. But now…

Lisa pulled an envelope from her pocket and held it out. "Also, we want … we want you to have this."

Frowning, Bart took it and flipped it open. His breath caught. Inside was a cheque. Thirty thousand dollars. Made out to him. He looked up at them slowly.

"It's the money from the court case," Homer explained. "We don't need it."

Lisa nodded. "Like you said, I'm a millionaire. Mum's taken care of, and everything at home is fine. But you… Bart, you've built something incredible, and we'd love to see you take it even further. We'd appreciate it if you invested this in El Barto Designs."

Bart's fingers tightened around the cheque, his mind reeling. For the first time ever he saw it – the sincerity in their eyes. The pride. The regret.

Hesitantly, Homer stepped forward and clasped his son's shoulder. "We know we've hurt you, Bart.

Lisa nodded before stepping forward to take his other shoulder.

"And we know this isn't something that can be fixed overnight. All we're asking for is a chance. One more chance to be part of your life. We'll take it slowly, on your terms. However, you want to do this, we'll follow your lead. And if we screw it up again…" she swallowed. "If we let you down again – you can walk away. And we won't stop you."

Bart looked between them, his emotions a tangled mess of suspicion, hurt, disbelief and, perhaps... the smallest flicker of hope.

One month later…

The warm summer sun bathed 742 Evergreen Terrace in a golden glow as Bart walked up the front steps, a fresh loaf of bread tucked under his arm. He hesitated for a moment, gazing upon the residence he had not seen or entered in years. Memories, both good and bad washed over him but he shook them off and rang the bell.

The door flew open almost instantly, and Marge's beaming face greeted him.

"Bart! You're here!" she exclaimed, happily pulling him into a tight hug.

"Hey Mum," Bart replied, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he returned the embrace. "Brought some bread for the BBQ."

Marge took the loaf from him, still smiling as she stepped aside to let him in. "You're just in time. Maggie's been asking about you all morning."

Bart chuckled as he finally stepped into the house, glancing around at the familiar surroundings. It had barely changed since he left all those years ago. "So where is the little squirt?"

As if on cue, Maggie appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Right here," she said, leaping happily down the last few steps into her brother's arms.

"Hey, Mags!" Bart said, catching her with ease. "Whoa, somebody's been eating their vegetables."

They both laughed. After a few moments of catching up, Bart followed his mother and youngest sister out into the backyard. The scent of sizzling meat and vegetables filled the air as Homer stood behind the grill, flipping burgers with a surprisingly competent hand, a spatula in one hand, and a beer in the other.

He looked up as Bart approached, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Hey, there's my boy!" Homer called out, waving the spatula in greeting. "You're just in time – got some burgers here with your name on them!"

Bart couldn't help but smile at the warmth in Homer's voice. It still felt odd – this newfound kindness from his father – but he was beginning to appreciate it. "Thanks, Dad. Smells good."

Homer puffed out his chest proudly. "I've been working on my technique. Even joined a grilling club! They say I've got potential."

Bart raised an eyebrow, smirking. "A grilling club? I didn't even know that those were a thing."

Homer shrugged, flipping another burger. "Gotta have hobbies, right?"

"Yeah, besides eating and sleeping" Maggie whispered, making the two siblings giggle. Marge placed the bread on the table, and the three of them began setting out the rest of the food and condiments. As they worked, Bart glanced around the yard.

"Where's Lisa?"

"She'll be back soon," Marge replied, placing plates and utensils on the table. "She said she had something to take care of but didn't want to miss the BBQ."

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the sound of the side gate opening and closing reached them. Lisa appeared in the backyard, looking elated but slightly breathless.

"Hi everyone!" she greeted, walking over to the table. "Sorry, I'm late. Did I miss anything?"

Bart shook his head, smiling at his sister. "Nah, just getting started. You seem pretty chipper about something though."

Lisa's smile faltered for a moment as she glanced at Bart. Then she shook her head with a soft smile.

"Yeah, I've got some news, but it can wait. Don't worry, it's nothing important. Just glad I made it in time."

Out of the corner of his eye, Bart noticed Lisa tuck an official-looking letter back into her bag. The family would later learn that this was an honorary degree from Harvard University. However, Lisa wouldn't announce this for a couple more days, and only after checking with both Bart and Maggie that it was alright to do so.

Bart gave his sister a knowing look but didn't press the matter. Instead, he gave her a nod, then took a seat at the table whilst everybody else gathered around, the familiar yet comforting ritual of a family meal unfolding.

Soon enough, the Simpsons were laughing and joking like they used to do. Homer bragged about his grilling skills, Bart shared stories about his latest projects, and Maggie chimed in with quips that made them all laugh. Marge beamed as she listened, happy to finally have her family back together again. Lisa, for her part, just sat back and listened for once, content to let the moment play out.

"So, what else is happening in the big wide world?" she asked, following a lull in the conversation.

"Oh, the usual. Hey, have you seen they're streaming some of the old classic movies from our childhood?" Bart asked. "I saw a really interesting one the other day. Apparently, it took them twelve years to make it."

"Twelve years?" Maggie breathed in astonishment.

"Wow, that's dedication," Lisa said, her voice filled with admiration.

"Yeah, what's it called?" Marge asked.

BARTHOOD!

The End.

Well, there you have it. I hope that you all enjoyed this alternative take on Barthood.

As I said in the introduction, I haven't seen the episode or watched The Simpsons for some time, so if I got a few facts wrong, I hope you can forgive me.

Before anybody proceeds to bite my head off and say I was a bit harsh, allow me to explain a few things.

From what I have read/watched online, it is clear that in the original episode, Homer and Lisa were both complete jerks. Although the episode does imply that something happened off-screen to create some form of resolution, since we don't see what happens, in my opinion, Homer and Lisa did nothing to deserve Bart's forgiveness at the end. Even when Bart and others point out what their toxic actions have done, they both make it clear that they do not care and refuse to change their ways or apologise. Even in the final segment, when Lisa meets Bart at his bike shop, her comment is more about herself, rather than Bart. This did not sit well with me.

Also, since Maggie barely gets any focus in the original story, which also makes it clear that Lisa is the golden child, I thought it only natural that she would be closer to Bart than either her sister or her parents. Hence, their relationship in this storyline.

Despite being the main victim, I do make it clear that Bart is not completely innocent or perfect either. What he did to Milhouse was wrong, which I do make sure to acknowledge. The key difference is that (in the Simpsons I grew up with, at least) Bart did have a sense of morality and would try to make amends whenever he went too far.

And finally, despite some of Lisa's comments being valid, Bart is never usually portrayed as a doormat, and I think that in any other episode, he would have stood up for himself or taken revenge on her.

Plus, let's face it, Lisa being publicly humiliated and Homer getting slapped were pretty tame (but deserved) forms of karma.

This was why I created this story. It is what I think should have happened. Bart has stood up for himself and proceeded to cut most of his family off for a time, which again is what is implied to have happened in the episode. Not only did it allow him to find and better himself, it also gave Homer, Lisa and to a lesser extent the others time to reflect upon their actions and realise what they had done. Most importantly of all, we get a sincere, proper apology at the end, showing that the redemption is well-earned.

Whether this would happen in the current show isn't clear. However, in my opinion, The Simpsons is all about family, hence why I made sure that they were all back together at the end. However, I also clarified that everybody involved has changed for the better, which hopefully makes the resolution much more compelling and deserved.

Anyway, please tell me what you think. I would appreciate any feedback and am also interested in what song you would put over the montage clips.

Stay strong and I will see you all at the next story.