AN: It's been a while since I've written anything. I wanted to get into the swing of things once again with a one shot. I've been watching The Flash lately and I've loved the TV version of it and I figured writing a short story for The Flash was as a good a start as any. Anyway, I hope you like it. Please read and review. Let me know what you think. I'm always open to constructive criticism.

It had been 3 days since the jury had come out with the verdict of guilty; three days since his father had been wrongfully convicted for his mother's murder; three days since eleven year old Barry Allen had found the will to leave the spare bed room at the West's home. He now sat on the bed, his bed as Iris and Joe had encouraged him to consider it, staring out the window as the skies became increasingly gloomy, mirroring his own mood, the lighting flashing across the sky eerily similar to the one that he saw inside his house and around his mother. His idle mind wandered to the night his mother had been killed. No matter how much he wanted to forget it ever happened, he knew he couldn't. He had forced himself to relive every second of that night in the hope that someone would listen to him and believe him. But that hope had been extinguished as the jury had read out their decision. Out of habit, he let the night play in his mind. He distinctly remembered waking up to his mother's screams. He remembered the water in his fish tank floating upward, working against gravity. Before he could go any further, he was mercifully brought out of his thoughts by a soft knock on the door.

He turned around and stared at the door, knowing full well who wasn't behind it. He didn't answer. He didn't really feel like talking to anyone when no one was willing to believe him especially after the last conversation he had had ended with Joe telling him that he was going to have to see a psychiatrist. Was it really so unbelievable that his father was incapable of murder? The knock on the door grew a little louder and he heard a voice call out to him, "Barry, it's me. Can I come in?" Iris, of course it was Iris, thought Barry. "It's open", he said quietly. He turned back to the window as he heard the door being pushed open and then closing shut again. He stared stubbornly out the window even as he felt the bed dip right behind him. Iris didn't say a word and for a few minutes Barry let himself pretend as if he were still alone in the room.

A few minutes later he heard her sigh as she put a hand on his shoulder, making him turn around to face her. "Why won't you talk to us?" she asked him.

Barry briefly debated not answering the question at all but this was Iris and he couldn't do that. "Because no one believes me", he said instead.

"I believe you", answered Iris.

Barry couldn't help but snort at the answer. "I know you're here to convince me to go meet the shrink Joe got me an appointment with. That doesn't exactly scream trust to me."

Iris sighed again. "My dad means well. He believes that seeing this guy could help you and I do too. You're not doing yourself any favours locking yourself in this room every day. You're going to have to face the outside world one day. You might as well start small with a total stranger whose job is to listen to people and not judge." She gave him a meaningful look and then walked back out without waiting for him to answer.

Barry grudgingly decided to get ready. He knew Iris and he knew that if he didn't listen to her the first time, she would try again and again until he gave in. Joe knew that too which is why he had sent her instead of coming up to Barry's room himself. In about 10 minutes Barry was ready and reluctantly made the descent down the stairs to the living room. His feet dragged as he fought the urge to run back into the bedroom and hide there for the rest of his life. He glanced up the stairs one last time before stepping into Joe's line of sight. Joe's head immediately snapped up and he smiled at the boy. He didn't say a word. He simply took out Barry's coat from the rack and handed it to him. Barry pulled it on and shot Iris a look that conveyed uncertainty and trepidation. Iris gave him an encouraging smile and said, "I'll see you tonight." Barry nodded, unsure of what else he could say and followed Joe to the car.

The car ride was quiet. He couldn't bring himself to say anything to break the uncomfortable silence that stretched between him and Joe. He decided it was for the best. Every time, the two had a conversation, they would inevitably touch upon the topic of his father. Every time, Joe would try to tell him that his father was indeed guilty and that the evidence concurred. Every time, Barry would end the conversation by locking himself away and crying himself to sleep.

The psychiatrist's clinic was sparkling clean and surprisingly inviting. While Joe was behind the door marked Dr Rogers, Barry picked up one of the many magazines that lay on the table and began leafing through it. Finding an interesting piece on spectral lines, he busied himself reading the article and ignored everything and everyone around him. A few minutes later, he was startled out of his own little world when Joe placed a hand on his shoulder, making him look up. "Dr Martin would like to talk to you for a little while", Joe told him and Barry nodded. "Why don't you go ahead inside? I'll be right here until you come back out."

Barry knew that it would be futile to resist and so he passively made his way into the room. The large room had a pair of comfortable looking chairs, one facing the other and the other facing what looked like a child's play area. A tall man, who looked to be in his early 40s stood behind one of the chairs, watching Barry intently. "Barry Allen?" he asked and for what was the millionth time since his mother's passing, Barry simply nodded in response. "I'm Dr Kenneth Rogers", said the man with a small smile. "Why don't you take a seat?" he asked, gesturing to one of the chairs in the room. Barry let the door swing shut behind him and sat down as instructed and Dr Rogers took the other seat and turned to face him. He had a notepad and a pen in his hand. When he noticed that the boy was morosely staring at a single spot on the floor, he said, "Barry, you have nothing to be afraid about here. You and I are just going to have a little chat. Is that alright?" Barry once more nodded without looking up. "Do you know why Joe brought you here?" Dr Rogers asked again and once again, Barry's only response was a nod. "Why don't you tell me why?" asked Dr Rogers.

"You already know why", answered Barry, speaking to the man for the first time.

The doctor nodded patiently. "But I'd like to hear it from you."

"Joe brought me here because he doesn't believe me", said Barry, looking up at Dr Rogers. "Nobody believes me."

"And why is that?" Barry simply shrugged in response. "Barry, the real reason Joe brought you here is because he's worried. He told me that he could barely get you to eat anything or even come out of your room for more than five minutes at a time. He also told me that you wouldn't talk to any one either and the only reason you're here is because he had his daughter talk you into it."

"Iris is too stubborn", he said with a sad smile. "She'll never take no for an answer."

"You told me that Joe wouldn't believe you", said Dr Rogers. "What wouldn't he believe you about?"

"Why do you keep asking me questions you already know the answers to?" countered Barry.

"Because I want to hear it from you", answered the doctor. "I've found that there are always two sides to a story and I'd like to hear yours."

Barry sighed and went back to staring at the spot on the floor. "Why? You'll listen but you won't believe me, just like everyone else."

"Try me", said the doctor.

Barry shifted uncomfortably on the chair, looking like he was ready to bolt at any second. But soon, he settled down. "The night my mother was murdered I woke up hearing her screaming. I walked down to the hall and saw her kneeling on the floor and there was red and yellow lightning around her. My dad came down to and tried to help and told me to run. Then I saw a man in that lighting and then somehow I was blocks away from my house. By the time I got back home, the police were taking my father away. My dad didn't kill my mom. It was the man in yellow, the one in the lightning."

"Did you see the man kill your mother?" asked Dr Rogers curiously.

Barry shook his head no. "My mom was still alive when I was taken out of the house."

"Do you think it was the man who took you out of the house?" he asked.

"I don't know", answered Barry, honestly. "I don't know how I got there." Barry looked up at Dr Rogers and found that his face was completely neutral but sympathetic. He wasn't sure if he believed him or not. So he decided to press on. "I know my dad and I know he would never kill my mom. You have to believe me; you have to tell them that they have the wrong person." His voice shook as he tried to blink away the tears in his eyes.

Dr Rogers watched him for a few seconds as Barry struggled to get his breathing under control. He took in a deep breath and looked up at the doctor and saw pity and concern etched on his face. It was just what he had expected so he didn't understand why he felt so disappointed all of a sudden. He mentally kicked himself for getting his hopes up too high again. If his own friends wouldn't believe him, why would a complete stranger?

The doctor noticed Barry's shift in demeanour and decided to move on to something else. "Do you like living with Joe and Iris?"

"It's fine I guess", said Barry quietly.

"How about school?" asked Dr Rogers.

"I hate it there", answered Barry. He figured it was best to keep his answers short.

"Joe told me you liked science", he stated.

Barry nodded. "I just can't stand the people", he said.

"Did any of them say anything?" asked the doctor, the look of concern never leaving his face.

"They don't really have to", said Barry with a shrug.

Dr Rogers nodded thoughtfully. Barry shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and picked at the hem of the sweater he was wearing. "Would it be alright if I talked to Joe and asked him to let you come over here once again?"

Barry nodded when all he wanted to say was "no". "Can I leave now?" he asked instead, feeling unnaturally tired.

Dr Rogers nodded. "Yes you can", he said. "But I need to talk to Joe for a minute."

Barry didn't respond but instead got to his feet and the doctor followed suit. He walked to the door and held it open for the boy. As Barry walked out, he could feel Joe's concerned glance on him. He chose to ignore it and sat down beside him. He felt Joe's arm around his shoulder in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. He vaguely heard Dr Rogers asking Joe if they could talk. Joe then followed the doctor into his room and Barry felt his vision blur. He closed his eyes, tucked his feet under himself and leaned against the armrest, fully intending to fall asleep. But within minutes, he heard footsteps approaching and someone running their hand through his hair. He wearily opened his eyes and saw Joe right in front of him. "Are you alright?" asked Joe, well aware what a stupid question that was. He wasn't surprised when Barry simply nodded. "Alright, let's go home now."

Immediately Barry felt his spirits lift as the image of his home flashed in his mind but then deflated when he remembered that Joe meant his house. If Joe had noticed this, he didn't show it. He simply put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car. The ride back was quite as the ride to the clinic. Barry sat on the passenger seat, looking resigned and defeated as he rested his head against the car window. He felt strangely relieved as the single story house came into view. No sooner had the car come to a stop Barry opened the door and got out. He knocked on the door and waited until Iris let him in. "How did it go?" she asked him. He simply shrugged and made his way back up to his room.

Closing the door behind him, Barry shed his coat on the chair and crawled into bed once more. He took up his position by the window and kept watch as the rain poured down. He just wanted someone to believe him; to understand the truth and help him get his father out of prison. He was grateful to Joe for taking him in and to Iris for putting up with him but this wasn't his home. He didn't belong there and he knew it even if Joe and Iris tried to make him think otherwise. They meant well, he knew but this was not what he wanted. He had already lost his mother and he did not want to lose his father as well, although lately he had started to feel as if he already had. He moved and let his head rest on the pillow remembering just how tired he felt and hoped he would be able to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

He hadn't even realised he had fallen asleep when he woke up to his mother's screams once again. Just like the last time he walked down the stairs but this time he knew what to expect and he wasn't wrong. His mother was in the room and there was lightning all around her. He tried to get closer but his mother screamed at him to stay away. Soon his father was in front of him, holding him back and telling him to run. Just like last time he stood frozen, rooted to the spot. But unlike the last time, he wasn't magically transported a few blocks away. He watched as the man knocked his father out and grabbed a knife. He tried to scream, he tried to run but he couldn't do either. Fear kept him paralysed as the man advanced. He felt the knife slice through his chest as he fell to the ground, his mother's screams still loud and pleading.

Barry felt someone shaking his shoulders and woke up with a start. He sat up and his hand flew to his chest where the knife had cut into his skin. The fabric of his shirt was unharmed under his hand. He breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that he had just been dreaming. He slowly looked up and saw Joe sitting on the bed right next to him with a glass of water extended towards him. He gratefully took the glass in trembling hands and drank slowly. He wondered why the man in the lightning had killed his mother. He wished he had killed him instead just like in the dream. Tears began to fill his eyes and before he could stop them, they flowed freely down his face. He used the back of his hand to try and rub them away. He felt Joe's strong arm around his shoulder once again and realised he was shaking. He didn't know how long they had sat there together but eventually, his tears dried and the shaking subsided. As he began to shift out of Joe's grasp, he heard him say, "Dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes. Why don't you come down tonight?" Barry nodded his agreement.

Barry just sat there in the dark, still feeling a little out of it when he heard a knock on the door. "It's open", he answered. Iris pushed open the door and poked her head into the room and said, "Dad's says dinner's ready."

Not expecting an answer, she was about to close the door when she heard Barry say, "I'll be right down."

Iris was more surprised by the tone than by the fact that he had actually responded. Ever since he had come to live with them, Barry had always been willing to get into an argument with anyone who disagreed with him on the events of that night. He'd been angry and upset but for the first time he sounded defeated. To Iris, it sounded as if he had all but given up. She shook her head slightly and pushed the door open further and let herself in. She noticed he was staring at the wall, without really focusing on it. She slowly walked up to him, sat down next to him and then put her arms around his shoulder, hugging him. "I do believe you", she said without preamble. Barry pulled away from her and shot her a questioning look. "I know you think no one believes you about your dad but I do."

"What made you change your mind?" he asked her.

"This whole thing just sounds impossible", she answered. "I can't imagine how there could be lightning inside a house and the idea of a man who was somehow in there and not affected by it seems impossible. My first instinct just like everyone else's was to not believe it." She looked up at Barry and he looked close to tears. She realised she had to get to her point quickly if she wanted him to hear her out. So she continued, "But I know you, Barry. I've known you long enough to know that you wouldn't make up something just to get your dad out of prison. No matter what everyone else says, I know that's not something you would do. So yeah, your story is hard to believe but I believe it because it's you." When Barry didn't move or respond in anyway, she wondered if she had the worst thing possible. The tortured look on his face proved it right. "I'm sorry", she whispered as she wondered exactly what she had said wrong. She slid of his bed and walked out of his room. Before she closed the door, she took one last look at Barry and found him looking back at her as if he wanted to say something. She waited patiently, not wanting to push him. "Thank you", he said finally, so softly, that she almost missed it.

She gave him one of her brightest smiles and said, "You're welcome", before she closed the door and walked down the stairs hoping Barry would join them for dinner. She sat at the table as Joe placed a large bowl of spaghetti on the table. "He'll come down when he's ready", Joe said to her as he took his seat at the table.

15 minutes later, Iris couldn't help but feel disappointed that Barry still hadn't come down. Both Iris and Joe's plates were almost empty and Iris was forced to give up. Just as she was about to express her anger at not being able to help her friend, she heard footsteps approaching them. She turned to the entry and was pleasantly surprised to find Barry standing there, looking at the floor. "I'm sorry I'm late", he mumbled.

"Don't worry about it", said Joe as he gestured to the empty plate on the table. "We're having spaghetti today", he said as he served some for Barry. Barry took his seat and picked up his fork and shoved his food around the plate with it for about a minute before finally taking a small bite.

Iris watched him slowly pick at and then eat his food. For the first time in three days, Barry had joined the Wests at the dining table. For the first time in three days, Joe felt like he wasn't completely failing the boy he had taken in and knew that he had Iris to thank for it. For the first time in three days Iris felt like things could still get better and she prayed that they would.