The Occurrences That Lead Up To Bart Allen's Speed

One could argue that Bart Allen lived a relatively nice life in Chicago. Perhaps he wasn't the richest boy in the city, but he had food on the table every night, even if it was mostly just beans and corn. He had Don Allen, a man who worked in the shoe-making factory, and Meloni Allen, a mother who greeted him every time he came home from school and kept the house nice and clean. With a source of income and both parents, Bart would sometimes find himself thanking the lord how lucky he was.

Disease was spread wide throughout the city, especially in the poorer parts. Bart Allen knew many classmates had lost at least one parent due to such a cause, and even knew classmates themselves who died. The case of 1876's pneumonia took out some of his closest friends. Bart himself had caught the chicken pox and different kinds of flu a couple of times, but always managed to recover. His father claimed it was good genes.

At fourteen, Bart finished school. Yes, his family had money, but only the really rich folks went to high school. Bart would always hold a somewhat bitter grudge on his father, for his father's father was very rich. Grandfather Barry Allen used to be rich, but with his marrying of Iris West, he was now very rich, and owned what was called "STAR Labs" in New York City.

Bart knew the story as to why they weren't rich- love. The Allens and the Thawnes were foes, dating back to when the United States of America was first founded. Grandpa Barry and Grandma Iris had two children, a little boy named Don Allen, and a little girl named Dawn Allen. Don Allen, Bart's father, had fallen in love with the Thawnes' little girl, Meloni. The two sides refused to mend their rivalry, and even had other people arranged to marry their children. With that, Meloni and Don decided to run away and elope in Chicago, far away from New York City.

With this action, Don Allen was removed from Barry's will.

After Bart finished school, his father decided to have "the talk" with him. Telling him that within a couple years he was to be married, and both he and his mother had talked to the Jones' family, believing Cissie Jones was to be a fine match for him. Both families had similar income levels, and Cissie's father had worked at the same factory as Don Allen, just in a higher ranking.

Bart wasn't too happy to hear about the news. He knew his parents were to marry him off one day, but he still felt like it was all dumb. He felt as if he were going to marry a lady and be with her for the rest of his life, he should have had a say in the matter. And though Cissie was without a doubt a pretty girl, he didn't love her. Despite his protests against being married off, he was forced to court Cissie.

Cissie was big into archery and taught him how to shoot. For fun, the two took one of Cissie's younger cousins (the one who would often watch them, it was just a thing in courting) and put her in the backyard. They took apples off the apple tree, placed one on her head at a time, and took turns shooting them off. It was fun until Cissie's mother came running out, screaming at how they were wasting fresh fruit and how they could accidentally kill the girl.

After spending nearly two years courting Cissie, Bart still failed to feel romantic love for her, even though Don promised it would happen. Bart did love Cissie, but not in the way he was supposed to. He loved her like a friend, or like a sister, and cared about her very much, but he knew something was just off. Something wasn't right, and he didn't want to marry Cissie. In the Jones' living room during Christmas time, Cissie looked back and forth before admitting to Bart that she didn't want to marry him, either.

The day was May fourth, the year of 1883. At the time, Bart was soon to be sixteen, and soon to be married. He was sitting in the kitchen with his father, his mother had left to run some errands. It was just after breakfast time and the sunlight poured its way into the house, and Don was sipping on some coffee and reading a book. All was quiet, except for the sounds of the outdoors. Hooves were clopping across the pavement, an occasional whinny of a horse, the chatter of men, and the chirps of birds.

Bart sat with his arms crossed, looking at the floor. "I don't want to marry Cissie."

Don looked up at him, though Bart wouldn't meet his gaze. "What do you mean?"

"I don't love her. Not in the way I'm supposed to." Bart admitted, "At heart, she's my sister. My friend. Not my lover, not my bride."

"You've been courting Cissie for almost two years, Bart." Don pointed out, "Surely you love her. Besides, your wedding is in two months. You may just be nervous."

"I'm not just nervous." Bart grumbled, "I thought marriage was supposed to be about love, pap. But it seems you want me to marry her because of the money. You got to marry the woman you love, you took her over money. Why can't I do the same?"

Don didn't speak.

"I don't mean to disrespect you," Bart continued, "but this idea you've got going on in your head- it's hypocritical, pa."

Don slammed his coffee on the table, causing some of it to spill out. Bart looked up at him in surprise. "Don't you call me that! You can't compare our situations, Bartholomew. Miss Canary and I hated each other's guts, polar opposites, we were. Had we been alone during our courtship, the woman would've stabbed me with a knife! At least you and Cissie get along, at least you have some kind of love!"

"But that love isn't close enough!" Bart said, and stood up, clenching his fists. "Regardless of what I feel about Cissie right now, or if I absolutely hated her, I'd still have the same idea in mind- to not marry her."

Don stood up, "You are going to marry Cissie Jones! I'm not trying to be mean, Bart! Don't you realize this is what's best for all of us?"

"You were a good father, Donald Allen, but you are a goddamn hypocrite and that's that!" Bart yelled.

"Don't you say the lord's name in vain, Bartholomew! Enough out of you!"

"What on Earth is going on in here?" Meloni demanded as she entered the kitchen, an authoritative look plastered on her face as she set down the bags from her errands on the table. Both Bart and Don had been so angry at each other that they didn't even hear her enter the house.

Don sighed, looking up at the clock on the wall. He ignored her question. "As you both know, I have a fishing trip with my coworkers along the lake today. I'll be back by six p.m."

"Don Allen, don't you-" Meloni tried to say, but her husband had already grabbed his fishing pole and exited the house. She turned to Bart, who sat back down at the table, refusing to look her in the eye. "Tell me what's going on, Bart. Now."

Bart sighed, running a hand through his locks of brown hair, still not looking up at his mother. "I'm not in love with Cissie. I don't want to marry her. Pap says I don't have a choice in the matter. It isn't fair, ma. How come he got to choose love over money but I don't?"

Meloni's hard look softened. She sat down, pulling up a chair next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, and she let out a sad smile. "He's scared, Bart. It may not seem like it, but he wants this to happen because he loves you. He truly doesn't want to force you to marry someone you don't love."

"Huh?"

"Don and I chose love over money when it came down to our marriage, but of course, it didn't go unpunished. When we fled to Chicago, we were poor. Very poor. Starving, cold, sick. We barely managed to get back on our feet. Most people who marry for love aren't able to, and either die or live miserably. You see, to marry because of love isn't a common thing for a good reason, Bart. Money provides security, a warm bed to sleep in, food. It provides you a way to survive. And uniting two families because of money, well, that's a way of protection. That's why we arrange our children's marriages. That's why we court. We're trying to keep you alive."

Bart sighed, "I wish it didn't work that way."

Meloni let out a sigh as well. "I know, sweetheart. Me, too. Now, can you help me store the meat in the icebox for dinner tomorrow night?"

Bart let out a small smile and nodded.

x

Early the next morning, Don still hadn't come home. Meloni was cleaning and Bart was getting ready for work when there was a knock on the door.

"Must be Don." Meloni said as she stood up and walked towards the door, "I swear, if he's only back now because he was out drinking with his buddies again, I'll- Officer Wilson! Hello, sir."

"Hello, Mrs. Allen. I'm afraid I must bring tragic news." the officer hung his head.

"What is it?" concern spread across her face, and by this time, Bart was right by the door with her.

"Your husband, Donald Allen, was involved in a terrible boating accident last night. As you know, there was an unexpected storm, and the boat he was on ended up sinking. Fishermen discovered his body, along with the bodies of five other men, in the water this morning. I'm sorry."

Bart stood in shock as Meloni hugged him and began to cry.

"If there's anything we can do, the city of Chicago is willing to help. I'm terribly sorry for your loss." Officer Wilson tipped his hat before exiting, Meloni still crying. Bart began to cry along with her, holding his mother in close.

x

Dinner that night was completely silent. Neither Bart nor Meloni touched their food, and they both looked down at the floor. Bart couldn't stop thinking about how his last talk with his father ended up being an argument.

Throughout the day, their neighbors had come around to pray for them and drop off gifts and food, but none of that helped.

Bart never even got to say goodbye.

"I don't know what I'm going to do without your father." Meloni finally admitted.

Bart didn't respond.

x

Don's funeral happened. It was small, but very solemn and Bart was glad he attended. He spoke a few words about his father, but didn't really speak to Don's friends that came along.

Throughout the next month, however, Meloni seemed to be getting sick. Bart knew it wasn't physical sickness- Meloni was suffering from awful depression, and Bart had no idea what to do about it. Doctors couldn't cure something like that.

He and Meloni didn't speak that much to each other, and Bart watched as his mother's conditioned worsened. Meloni refused to eat, drink, or sleep. She usually sat down in her chair in the living room, staring out the window, not saying a word. Bart tried her best to help her, really. He tried to get her to do things that were essential to her survival, but she refused, and he was left in the dark.

He came home from work one day and discovered her on her chair, as per usual, except she was most definitely dead.

He didn't cry. He just stood there, looking at his mother, before sighing. Feeling exhausted, eyelids half closed, he walked right back out the door before going to the police station, looking at the man behind the counter.

"My name is Bartholomew Allen. I'm sixteen. It appears my mother has died from a broken heart. What can I do now?"

x

Bart inherited his parent's money and house, went to work, and still couldn't afford to hold a funeral for his mother, despite the Jones offering to help pay for it. In fact, he had yet to cancel his plans of marriage with Cissie, but honestly didn't want to. With both of his parents gone, he assumed it'd just be best to marry her. It's what both of his parents wanted, and he wanted some sort of sense of family. He didn't have that many friends. After most of them died from pneumonia when he was nine, he told himself he'd never make friends again, and he'd honestly say his only friend at this point was Cissie, and he was good acquaintances with some of her relatives.

As each day passed and as his wedding day got closer, Bart began to feel more and more lonely and depressed, and wondered if he caught the same disease- broken heart, that is- as his mother. And despite the Jones spending more time at his home and with him, their love and affection couldn't fill the void that his parents left.

He visited his parents at their grave, dropping off flowers at the tombstones that sat next to each other. He collapsed to his knees and buried his face in his hands and began to sob, not caring who saw.

He had enough of suffering. He wasn't going to wait until his broken heart killed him- he was going to do the deed himself. His father still had his revolver left in the closet, and he decided that once he got home, he would shoot himself with it. Suicide was a sin, but he was hoping God would make an exception for him and understand his pain and desire to see his parents again, and wouldn't condemn him to Hell.

"I'll see you soon." he promised as he began to walk back towards his home. He entered, going into his untouched parents' room, opening up the squeaky closet door, pulling out the revolver and loading it with a single bullet. He sat down, opening his mouth and sticking the muzzle of the gun inside.

A loud knocking on the door made him nearly jump out of his skin.

"Bartholomew? Bartholomew Allen, are you home?" a voice shouted from the outside.

Bart sighed, putting the gun on the floor and leaving the closet, closing the door behind him. He opened the door only to see an old man with a head full of white hair and bright blue eyes grinning at him. He was about to slam the door shut when the old man caught it.

"Bartholomew, correct?" the man said.

"I go by Bart, but yeah, that's me… who are you?" Bart asked.

"Why, I'm Barry Allen! Your grandfather."

A perplexed look ran over Bart's face. "What? Aren't you in New York? Why are you here?"

"Didn't you get my letter?"

"Letter?" Bart looked over to the kitchen table, which had a few envelopes he didn't bother opening stacked on it. He walked over, looking for the one addressed to him from Barry. He finally found it. "This?" he held it up.

"Precisely." Barry nodded. "Read it, won't you?"

Bart opened the envelope and began to read.

June 1st, 1883

Dear Bartholomew Allen,

I am Barry Allen, and I have never got the chance to properly meet you. However, upon hearing of both your mother and father's deaths and in such a short time span, I wanted to grant to an invitation to come live with me, as you are still family.

I am a very wealthy man. I work with Bruce Wayne, also known as "America's Richest Man", and I run STAR Labs, a company located in New York City dedicated to furthering technology as we know it using steam-powered tactics.

Though me and your father may have had a falling out, that does not make me upset or angry with you. I would love to get to know you, and I believe we would enjoy working together in New York.

I will be coming to visit you soon, in perhaps a week or two. I am hoping we can bond, and talk about the idea more.

With sincerity,

Barry Allen, your Grandfather.

"Huh." Bart said.

"What do you think?" Barry asked.

"I'll have to think on it." Bart lied, "but I'm kind of busy right now, so you should probably-"

"May you show me around the city of Chicago?" Barry requested.

"I, uh-" Bart looked at his grandfather, then sighed. "Sure. Yeah. I'll do that." he said, hoping that completing this request now would allow him to slip into the afterlife with relative ease later tonight.

The day consisted of Barry and Bart telling each other about their lives, grabbing hot dogs to eat, and some shopping. Bart never got to shop as a luxury, but Barry surely had money, and he got some nice clothes. Barry spoke of a new city that was recently developed in central Illinois, near Springfield, simply called "Central City", and he claimed that it would soon give Chicago a run for its money.

Barry was a bit "nutty" at times as Bart would put it, but he ended up liking the man, and swore that void his parents left was at least somewhat filled. That night, he and Barry went to a restaurant, the first restaurant Bart had ever been to. Bart was amazed at all of the options he had to choose from. During the dinner, Bart spoke about being regretful having an argument with his father before he died, and how he didn't want to marry Cissie.

"I'll admit it, Bart," Barry said, "As the years passed, I've regretted more and more that I didn't attempt to come to peace with the Thawne family. I was lucky enough to be a rich man myself, have a rich wife, and be in love with her. Barry didn't love Dinah- you may know her as Miss Canary. Oh, boy. I should've never forced the lad to try and be with her. I missed my son more and more as time passed; I didn't know you even existed until a couple of years ago, and look at you! You're already a man. I should've been more involved in your life, Bartholomew- Bart. And I'm sorry I wasn't."

"That's okay." Bart said, "But I wonder, should I call off my marriage with Cissie? I don't have my parents around anymore, and it's really my choice now."

"It is really up to you, but I'll leave my two cents. If you do not want her to be your bride, and she does not want you to be her groom, then I would say it's a good idea to call the marriage off. Besides, if you come with me back to New York City, you'll have to bring her with me, and her family may miss her dearly." Barry replied.

"You're right," Bart said, "I hadn't thought about the aspect of leaving. And I am ready to leave, Grandpa."

"So you're coming back with me?" Barry's eyes lit up.

"Yeah. Yeah, I will." Bart smiled with a tinge of hope that things would be better.

"Ah, yes! This will be fantastic!" Barry cheered.

"But I have to call off my wedding with Cissie first." Bart reminded him, and then a question suddenly hit him. "I know you're rich because of your company, but why is your wife's family rich?"

"Ah! Well, you see, my wife, Iris Allen, her maiden name was Iris West, though you probably know that. Iris's father was apart of the California Gold Rush, and boy did he get a lot of gold. The man, who was twenty-five at the time, was married and had a daughter. He worked day and night mining, making sure his family would have enough to live off of for the rest of their lives. He moved to New York City where he met my father, who had opened STAR Labs. He and my father were best of friends, and Iris and I were, too. And eventually, we fell in love, got married, uniting the West and Allen families, and we had a son and daughter of our own."

"What happened to your daughter?" Bart asked in curiosity.

"Dawn? Oh, she's married to Jeven Ognats, the son of the mayor of New York City. Soon to be the mayor, with how his father's health is doing." Barry mumbled, "They have one daughter, and her name is Jenni."

"So I'll basically get to meet all of my relatives once I move to New York?" Bart asked excitedly. He couldn't help it, though. His entire life, it'd just been him, his mom, and his dad.

"Well, not exactly." Barry bit his lip, "You'll see the Allens, yes, but my wife's family is spread out within the west, and you can try to speak to your mother's family, though you may find it difficult. They are our competitors." he warned.

"That's okay." Bart said, "At least I'll have some family to speak to." he looked down at his finished plate. "Can we leave now? I think I should go tell Cissie and her family about my decis-"

"Good idea! And I'll purchase our train tickets for tomorrow morning while you're doing that." Barry replied.

"What am I supposed to do with the house?" Bart asked.

"Keep it, it's yours." Barry said, "If you don't want to sell it, you don't have to."

"I don't." Bart admitted.

"Very well then. Go on, tell your friend that she is not to be your bride. I'll be at the train station. We shall meet back at your home."

Barry left his money for the meal on the table and they exited.

x

Bart knocked on the door of the Jones' household. Cissie answered. "Bart!" she smiled, "Come on in."

The rest of Cissie's family greeted him as he walked in. "May I speak with Cissie in private for a moment? I promise it won't be long." Mr. Jones granted him permission.

"Cissie," he said once they arrived to her backyard, "I'm calling off our marriage."

Cissie stared in shock for a moment before tightly hugging him. "Thank you!" she mumbled into his chest, "Oh Bart, I love you, I love you very much. But you're like a brother to me, and I don't want to be your wife. I'm also in love with another man, and we've been secretly seeing each other." she admitted, "I may elope with him, I'm not sure."

"It's okay. I love you too, you're my sister." Bart told her, wrapping her in his embrace, "And I wish you the best of luck with this other man in your life. Do what your heart tells you, okay?"

Cissie looked up at him and nodded. "Promise."

"Also, I'm leaving for New York City in the morning." Bart added.

Cissie's eyes widened and she separated their hug. "What?!"

"My grandpa Barry came and visited me. I want to go back to him and work with him at his laboratory in New York City."

Cissie seemed sad, and Bart could understand. "I promise to write and visit you, I swear." he said.

"You will. I know you will." Cissie nodded again.

"Should we tell the rest of your family?" Bart asked.

"Yeah. They won't take it well, but regardless, they'll respect your decision." she said.

They walked back inside together. Upon breaking the news that the marriage was off and Bart was leaving, their was lots of loud gasps and faces of shock, and Mrs. Jones swore she was having a heart attack. After it settled in, however, they gave Bart tight hugs, told him he absolutely had to visit, and he promised he would.

Bart returned home, to where Barry was sitting on the bench in front of his home, patiently waiting. He showed Bart his train ticket, to where Bart plucked it out of his hand and put it in his pocket, unlocking the door, and letting Barry inside, where he helped him pack his things. Barry explained how there would be several stops along the way, as they were traveling through four states, and it would probably take a few days. Bart didn't mind, though.

x

Bart nervously stood at the platform with his grandfather, a luggage bag in each hand. Bart didn't have much to bring, except some clothes, one of his mother's paintings, and a few books his father wanted him to read. The train arrived, letting out a squealing sound and then a hiss as it stopped. The conductor looked out. "All aboard!" he yelled after the train's current passengers left.

Barry looked at Bart, giving him a reassuring smile before they stepped inside.