Day 1 - Stargazing

(Hello. So, it's probably been over a year since I've used this account or wrote anything that I actually put online. I've had a bit of a rough year in terms of writing, but I won't try to make up excuses because I did leave for a really long time and it probably sucked for the people who read my stories. So if anybody who reads any of my other stories is reading this, I am hoping to get back into writing with this process. It helped me get back into it last year.

ANYWAYS! :D On a brighter note, I wanted to do something other than the classic "looking at the stars, they're so bright, but they're nothing compared to you, kisses" scene. Not to say that it's not excellent, but it seems as though a lot of other people have already done it and it gets repetitive.

Also, YES, I AM aware that I broke most of the rules of science during this, but to be fair, it's an AU, so aliens can live on distant stars because it's not too hot for them and telescopes have SUPER ZOOM and nobody can tell me otherwise. ;P

Anyhow, this one is a little less bluepulsey. Just a warm up. Hoping tomorrow gets even better! Enjoy to anyone who us reading. And sorry for the long ass author note. O.o)

When Grandpa Barry buys him a telescope, Bart is disappointed. Well…not completely. It's just that he was expecting the latest Call Of Duty video game and when he doesn't receive it he feels that wave of disappointment he is so familiar with wash over him.

They're all sitting in the living room; Grandma Iris, Grandpa Barry and himself, all staring silently at this simplistic piece of technology. Grandpa Barry then turns to him. Bart attempts to wince subtly. He isn't sure whether or not he succeeds at it.

"So, kid. How do you like it?"

Bart forces a smile. Grandma Iris smiles as well, though Bart's pretty sure he can see traces of sympathy hidden within her eyes.

"I love it."

Except he doesn't. At least, right away.

Bart pays it no mind at first.

The stupid piece of junk sits in the corner of his room for weeks on end. Bart is really good at ignoring things, but even cobwebs in the corner are easy to get stuck in.

Every so often, he'll turn over in bed and see the damned out of the corner of his eye. He'll cover his face with a pillow and groan.

"Dumbass telescope."

Of course it really wasn't. Telescopes can't be dumbasses. They're inanimate objects. Everybody knows this. Even Bart himself. However, that doesn't stop the feelings of resentment from bubbling up.

He should be used to it by now, though.

It's never been easy having a Forensic Scientist for a grandfather.

When he's eight his father dies in the freak show accident to end all freak show accidents. A governmental study gone wrong. It seems to Bart that all Allen men fall victim to the charm and power of science.

He tries not to think about it too much.

Not long after can his mother can no longer handle the pressure. She runs off with another man who gets her pregnant shortly after the death of his father. She forges a new life and forces herself to forget everything about her old one; including her own son.

Again, he tries not to think about it.

Barry and Iris are nice enough anyways. Young, but nice. It reminds him of how young his parents were when they had him. How young he is.

When he's ten he impresses his entire fifth grade class by successfully completing an individual frog dissection lab without any help from any of the teachers present. He doesn't even show the slightest signs of being sick.

He tells his teacher that his grandfather's been teaching him about dissections since he was nine.

Four of the bigger boys give him a black eye in the hallway after class.

Barry finally teaches him how to use the telescope.

Bart understands the concept after the first fifteen minutes, but spends the next forty-five listening to the older man go on and on and on about the wonders of astronomy and how every constellation has a story behind it and how there are about a billion galaxies in the universe and blah blah blah blah blah.

They're just big balls of gas in the sky. Who fucking cares?

When he finally leaves (with the announcement that dinner will be ready in the next half hour), Bart pushes the telescope away from the window. He blinks twice and swallows once.

One foot then the other, he climbs up onto the ledge. He stares down more than up, because to him the ground is more interesting than the sky. And how fucking cool are rocks? Except nobody but geologists ever wants to talk about them.

No. Everybody always talks about how great and big the entire galaxy or the entire universe is compared to our world. Our planet. It doesn't change the fact that life isn't up in the clouds, but down here on earth.

But if life is so down to earth, then why concern yourself with things out of this world?

It's seven past midnight on a Tuesday night when Bart finds himself staring blatantly at the motherfucking telescope of all things.

He blames it on lack of sleep. He blames it on the scary shadows objects manage to cast.

He blames it on the entire fucking galaxy.

Bart sits up and cries a bit in bed. He then curses his rotten luck for having ended up with a Forensic Scientist for a grandfather.

Then he gets up out of bed and sets up his telescope.

Millions of stars patter across the universe, some named, most not. A constellation of galaxies all connected like pieces in a puzzle that somehow all manage to fit in perfectly together. Look in closer and it's easy to see these galaxies in more detail. The planets that fill the Milky Way to the brim. The billions of stars that that light up the vast darkness of space. Each and every one manage to shine; to twinkle.

Who cares, Bart tells himself, they're just big balls of gas in the sky.

One of the exploding balls of gas fizzles out and shoots across the sky like a bullet. One star in particular catches Bart's eye. There almost seems to be a smudged, shadowy figure on it. Bart narrows his eyes.

And what the hell is that?

He switches the lens on the telescope so he can enlarge the image and focus it on more minute details. Barry got him one of those super-detailed telescopes that cost a thousand dollars to order plus three dollars for shipping.

A thousand and three dollars for a cobweb holder. Who cares?

He grows more and more frantic as he attempts to focus the damned image. Things are still extremely blurry, but he's pretty sure he's blowing up the picture the way he wants it to be blown up.

His fingers begin to cramp up. And this is definitely a waste of time, he chastises himself.

He keeps adjusting the knob until he finally finds what he's looking for.

He doesn't believe his eyes at first.

Right in front of him is another living being.

No, he attempts to reason. No, that's not possible. It is literally impossible for life outside of earth to exist. Extraterrestrials don't exist. Aliens don't exist. They don't. Hell, was it even possible for a telescope to focus that much? Could this image be any clearer? Now way, he thinks. None of this is real. It's just some crazy dream. REM sleep is fucking weird sometimes, right?

Yet, there's the proof, staring him right back in the face. Sitting up on a star that is most probably light years away, a boy not much older than himself is stirring. He stares back at Bart through his own telescope. He clearly sees Bart as he grins, steps back from his scope and does this adorably, stupid little dance. He waves.

No no no. There's no way.

Bart waves softly and unsurely. He takes in the other boy's physical status. A well toned chest and muscle build, though lanky and long arms that almost don't even fit him. Dark, chocolate skin with blue and black patterns running up and down his arms, legs and torso. Dark, blackish hair cut way too short along with these big, beautiful brown eyes. He's completely naked, covered with bumps and different swirls and patterns. Like something out of a fucking Science Fiction movie.

The boy looks back through his telescope and smiles at Bart with the flashiest, whitest teeth he's ever seen.

...A real life alien.

Who cares, Bart tells himself, but realizes with a growing horror that he does.

But for some reason when Bart looks at this alien, all he sees is a person. And for some reason, this person interests him in a way that none other has.

Bart steps up onto the window ledge, one foot then the other. Looking up for the first time in a long time. And he thinks he's finally found something to keep him on the edge.

Because how fucking cool are aliens, right? And this one is so pretty that Bart can feel his face flush and is almost afraid the boy can see it too from light years away.

He smiles back even though his teeth aren't as white. Even though his smile is not on the stand all that often.

He stands up on his tiptoes and reaches his hands towards the sky.

Because, he guesses, even the stars are pretty from light years away.

And sometimes you really do manage find something that's out of this world.