This is a drastic rewrite of my first fanfiction, Crashing. My writing style has changed significantly from when I first started writing, and I've been dying to rewrite this story ever since I finished it. I wanted to make it as good as it can possibly be. Hopefully my writing will be better than my horrible photo editing skills (yes, I'm aware of how terrible the cover looks. I'm no photoshop expert and only had Paint to work with).

I will keep the original posted on my profile in case anyone still wants to peruse it, but this version will be officially taking the place of the original Crashing.

Trust me, this will be better than the original! I'm taking out parts, yes, but I'm adding so much more. Wally will be in this story—really, I'm shocked no one said anything when I completely cut him out of the original—as well as several other characters I left out of the first version. Regardless of the characters I'm adding, you can always count on me to keep it Barry-centric.

This will still follow the same general storyline, and the outcome will be the same. Most of what I'm changing is in the earlier chapters. Later chapters won't have too many changes—although, I will most definitely be adding new scenes and I might get more bold with it. I'm not as afraid of crossing lines now as I was when I first started writing.

It might seem like a ridiculous waste of time to rewrite an already completed story, but it's been bothering me for over a year, thinking about all the things I would change if I had the chance. I started rewriting parts of it—just for myself—but after writing over ten chapters, I just said, "Screw it. I'm going to post it."

So here it is.

Churning Point

The nausea was the worst part of it—the intense nausea he felt every time he thought of Jay's death, of the entire earth he had abandoned and left to Zoom's mercy. Barry was so sick about it, he thought he was going to actually be sick. His stomach had been churning nonstop ever since he had returned from earth two, and it was getting to the point where he could hardly eat anything anymore.

If anyone thought Barry was acting strange, they simply chalked it up to grief over Jay's death. They didn't really know the other thing that was bothering Barry: he felt like he had cut corners—like he hadn't really defeated Zoom but just took an easy way out by closing the breaches. It felt like a coward's win to him. It felt more like running away than it did winning.

Barry didn't really know where to go from here. He didn't know what to do. So, he did the only thing he knew how to do: he ran.

"Allen," Harry sighed as he walked into the treadmill room, "You know you don't have to keep training now, right? The breeches are closed."

Barry stumbled off the treadmill and grabbed a towel to wipe his face. He was sweating a lot more than usual for some reason, and the running hadn't really done much to help his queasy stomach. Nothing would. Nothing would absolve him of this guilt churning in his gut.

"I know," he gasped, still trying to catch his breath, "I just…I don't know what else to do right now."

"Celebrate," Harry said with a shrug, "It's over."

"That's just it," Barry said in a strained voice, "It doesn't feel like it's over. It feels like I simply washed my hands of the problem."

"It was never your problem to begin with," Harry said firmly, "Now, go home. Get some rest. You look like you haven't slept in days."

Barry nodded silently and walked out of the treadmill room. The irony didn't go unnoticed by him. Harry had been the one pushing him to go faster for weeks, but now that his daughter was safe, he was urging Barry to rest.

Barry didn't go home to rest after he left STAR Labs, though. Instead, he went to the CCPD. His trip to earth two had caused him to fall behind at work, and he had been working extra hard lately to get caught up.

As Barry worked endlessly to finish his case reports, he tried to remember the last time he slept. Somehow, time seemed to be playing tricks on him lately, the days of the week melding into each other until it felt to him like one long day.

He didn't know why he was suddenly having so much trouble sleeping. He had thought the nightmares would stop after he returned from earth two, but they didn't. They were no longer about Zoom killing Patty—she was safe in Midway—but he still dreamt of the monster terrorizing his city.

He dreamt of earth two and the life he had experienced there. He dreamt of earth two Iris and the life his doppelganger was lucky enough to have with her. Even though those dreams were bittersweet, they weren't exactly negative. They weren't nightmares, which was why Barry didn't understand why he woke up from them in a cold sweat. Sometimes, he woke up in a cold sweat without even having a dream, and for whatever reason, he couldn't ever fall back asleep. He would lay in bed all night, tossing and turning, just like his queasy stomach.

The nausea he had been experiencing seemed to only be getting worse, not better. It was starting to affect his appetite now, and Barry knew he wasn't ingesting enough calories lately. Maybe that's why he was feeling so fatigued. That, combined with the lack of sleep and the emotional toll earth two had had on him, were causing him to feel lethargic most of the time. It made it difficult to focus on his work.

"Barry."

Barry jolted awake and lifted his head from his desk. When had he fallen asleep? He quickly blinked and rubbed his eyes, looking over to the person who had spoken.

"Joe," he sighed, "You scared me. I thought you were Singh."

"Funny you should mention Singh," Joe said, moving over to lean up against Barry's desk, "I just ran into him downstairs, and he had a little talk with me…about you."

"What did he say?" Barry asked nervously.

"He said I should tell you to go home," Joe replied seriously, "He seems to think you've been pulling too many late nights here."

"It's only three in the afternoon," Barry pointed out.

"He said you've been here past ten every night," Joe said, giving Barry a serious look, "Here I thought you were just pulling extra hours as the Flash. I didn't know you were really spending all those hours at work this whole time."

"I'm just trying to stay caught up," Barry sighed, rubbing his tired eyes, "I haven't been focusing too great lately. It's taking me longer to get my cases done."

Joe frowned at him.

"Why?" he asked, "Because of Zoom? The breaches are closed now."

"I know," Barry said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Joe sighed and put a hand on Barry's shoulder.

"I know Jay's death has been weighing heavily on you," he said solemnly, "It's been weighing on all of us. But please, Bar, don't do the same thing you did with Ronnie and Eddie. Don't isolate yourself and try to take on all the blame and regret. We're not going to let you do that this time."

"I know," Barry sighed, looking down at his lap, "I…I won't."

Joe didn't understand, though. Jay's death was his fault, as well as any other deaths that now occurred on earth two because he had abandoned them. Joe had no idea what Barry was feeling right now.

"I should get this report to Singh before I go," Barry sighed, looking down at his nearly finished report, "He wanted it on his desk by the end of the day."

"Okay, finish your report then," Joe said seriously, "But then you should go home and get some sleep. You're not doing yourself or anyone else any favors by running yourself ragged."

Barry's lips twitched slightly at Joe's choice of words.

"Alright," he said, "I'll see you at home later then. Is Wally still coming over for dinner and family game night?"

Joe nodded.

"He's coming over at six," he said, "I'd like for you to be there. You missed the last one to go out on Flash duty. You should take the night off for once to rest and spend time with family."

Barry smiled at him.

"I'll be there," he said, "I promise."

Singh hated paperwork. He loved being the captain of the CCPD, but he absolutely despised all the paperwork that came with it. Really, filling out and signing off on different forms made up the bulk of his job, and it never failed to make the days feel longer. His workload was abnormally large today of all days, thanks to the fact that his senior CSI was now retiring.

Really, Singh had brought this work on himself. He was the one who had pushed CSI Southworth to finally retire. It was about time the man left the precinct. Singh should have done this years ago.

Singh looked up from his paperwork when he heard a quiet tap on his door.

"Come in," he clipped, irritated by the interruption.

Of course, it had to be Barry Allen who walked into the office. The kid was probably going to talk his ear off for the next twenty minutes now.

"Allen," he sighed, "I thought I told Joe to send you home. You've been here late almost every night this week."

"I'm heading home right after this," the young CSI assured him, "I just wanted to drop off this case you asked for before I leave."

"Oh, yeah," Singh said, rubbing his eyes, "I forgot about that."

Great, more paperwork for him to sign off on. Rob was going to kill him if he was late for dinner again. Signing off on the case wouldn't take long. No, what would take long would be sitting here, listening to Allen excitedly explain every minute detail of the case. Singh appreciated the kid's enthusiasm and how thorough he always was, but sometimes Allen could be a little too thorough.

Barry didn't launch into a big science rant, though. In fact, he surprised Singh by simply walking over to set the file on his desk without a word. When Barry got closer to him, that's when Singh got a better look at his face. The kid had dark circles under his eyes, and his already pale skin seemed to be a couple shades whiter today.

"You feeling alright, Allen?" Singh asked, furrowing his eyebrows at him.

"Fine," Barry replied unconvincingly, "Why?"

"You look like shit," the captain said bluntly, "You should really try to get some sleep when you go home."

"I will," Barry assured him, "I'll try to get more sleep tonight and come back fresh tomorrow. Sorry, sir."

"I don't want you to apologize," Singh said incredulously, "I'm just saying you should get more rest. The late nights you've been pulling here can't be good for you."

"Sor—I mean, I know," Barry stammered, "I'm just trying to stay caught up on everything, that's all. I'll try not to fall behind next week, sir. I promise."

"Okay," Singh said seriously before going back to his paperwork.

Barry turned to leave then. He was almost to the door when Singh called out to him.

"Allen," he said, causing Barry to turn around, "You…you're doing a good job."

Barry blinked at him, and then a small smile formed on his face.

"Thank you, sir," he said before turning and leaving.

Singh sighed and went back to his paper work. He was glad he had said something. Really, it had been a while since he had seen the kid smile. He knew he was sometimes a little too harsh on the forensic scientist, but the truth was, he really did respect the man. Barry was the best in his department, and Singh was reminded of that when Barry had been in a coma and he was left with only Southworth to do all of the forensic work in his absence.

Southworth had been the head of the CSI department. He was ancient, and by the time Barry had come to work at the precinct he had lost his flair and his passion for his work. Barry had been signed on as his forensic assistant, but he had quickly outshined Southworth, being the scientific genius he was. Southworth had become rather bitter towards his assistant over the years.

When he was training Barry for the job, he had quickly realized Barry's knowledge and expertise in the field readily outweighed his own years of experience. Barry had a passion for his work that Southworth had never had, even in his younger years on the job. Within a year, CSI Southworth had grown content to retreat to his office on the ground level of the precinct and allow his overly enthused assistant to have full reign of the lab upstairs, where he could do most of the forensic work himself. In no time at all, everyone in the precinct began to refer to it as Barry's lab, and they all knew that if they wanted forensic work done—and done well and in a decent period of time—they should bring it directly to Barry and not to the head of CSI.

Singh had recently realized that Southworth's work was less than satisfactory and that he had completely fallen into the habit of passing on all of his real work to Barry. Upon this realization, Singh began gently but firmly pushing Southworth to finally retire. Thankfully, Southworth had finally gotten the hint and was now leaving the precinct.

Captain Singh had been considering multiple forensic scientists to take Southworth's place at the CCPD, but he was now starting to fully recognize and appreciate Barry's expertise in the field and was considering giving him the position as the head of the CSI department, despite his young age and chronic tardiness.

The kid had a lot of heart. He cared about his work, and it hadn't escaped Singh's notice how hard Barry had been working lately. Barry had long deserved the salary and authority of Southworth's position for years. In all actuality, Barry had already unofficially been acting as the director of forensics for a long time now. He deserved to have the position officially.

"Three…Two...One."

Iris's voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Barry didn't even watch as Wally stacked the cups. He hardly heard their laughter. He felt like his mind was in a fog. He had been thinking about earth two—like always—when his mind had suddenly gone completely blank.

It was then that the nausea set in again, stronger than ever before. Barry hadn't thrown up yet. He hadn't thrown up since before he had become the Flash. Not once. Yet, he felt like he was going to now. It was more than just nausea. He felt like he was actually going to be sick. He shouldn't have eaten so much at dinner. He knew his stomach was sensitive right now. At the same time, though, Barry knew he had to keep his caloric intake up, and he also didn't want to appear rude by not eating with everyone else.

But now his stomach was churning, and he could almost feel the vomit rising in his throat. It took everything he had just to keep it down.

"Earth to Barry," Joe's voice suddenly broke through his thoughts.

Barry's eyes refocused as he looked at him.

Joe was smiling at him, completely oblivious to Barry's chagrin.

"It's your turn, dude," he said, sliding the cups on the coffee table towards Barry, a carefree smile on his face.

"Yeah," Iris said, giving Barry a knowing smile, "It's time to show this little punk who the fastest stack attacker alive is."

The others laughed, but Barry couldn't get over the churning feeling in his gut.

"Why don't you guys go ahead," he said quickly, "I think I'm going to pass."

The smiles all fell from their faces, their laughter quickly dying out. Wally's eyebrows furrowed slightly as he gave Barry a calculating look.

"You're afraid of a little competition?" he asked, giving Barry a calculating look.

Despite his light tone, there was something else in Wally's tone. It wasn't just competitiveness. Wally was challenging Barry—in more ways than one. Barry knew it. Wally knew it. The only ones who were oblivious to it were Joe and Iris. Before, it would have bothered Barry, Wally's obvious and constant need to compete with him, but right now, Barry wasn't feeling well and didn't really have it in him to care about Wally's petty challenges.

"No," Barry shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant, "Just not…in a gaming mood, right now."

He tried to keep his face and his words light and casual, but he could tell Joe and Iris saw right through it. They could tell something was up. Wally, however, clearly took it a different way. Like always, he thought Barry's withdrawn demeaner was directed towards him.

"Okay…well…" Wally said slowly, a slightly smug smile forming on his face, "I guess that makes me the champ."

Barry kept a tight smile fixed on his face, knowing Wally was intentionally trying to one-up him. He really didn't care who the stack attacker champ was right now, though. He was more preoccupied with trying not to vomit all over the carpet.

Also, he was twenty-six years old. He couldn't really find it in himself to care that much about the childish sibling rivalry Wally had created in his head. He was trying to get along with Wally, but Wally clearly had no interest in getting along with him, let alone be his brother. This whole night was just a terrible idea from the start, and the timing of it couldn't have been any worse. Barry's head just wasn't in it.

A satisfied smirk on his face, Wally then stood up from the couch.

"Uh, anyway, I'm going to go meet up with some friends," he said quickly.

Joe nodded and stood up with him to pull him into a quick hug. Wally then hugged Iris, too, and Barry's stomach twisted horribly in his gut. When had he become the outsider? He knew Wally wasn't taking his place, but in this moment, it almost felt that way. It was just in Barry's head. He knew that. He hated it, though. He didn't hate Wally. He just hated the way Wally made him feel.

As if to make him feel worse, Wally then gave Barry this look. It was like Barry could see himself through Wally's eyes right now. He could see himself the way Wally saw him. Wally must have thought he was a total ass.

"Maybe next time," Wally said with a slight shake of his head before turning and leaving, the front door closing behind him.

Iris turned and smiled at Barry after Wally left.

"And I thought you were the competitive one in the family," she teased lightly.

"Yeah, I know right," Joe said quietly, a thoughtful look on his face as he turned to Barry, "What's up, Bar?"

"Nothing," Barry mumbled with an easy shrug and a dismissive shake of his head.

He didn't need to give them reason to worry. It's not like he was sick. He couldn't get sick. His nausea was simply the result of dwelling over earth two, and Barry certainly didn't want to talk about earth two right now. It was better to avoid the conversation entirely.

Joe saw right through him, though, and gave Barry a "no bullshit" expression. Barry knew then that he'd have to say something else to explain his odd behavior.

"I don't know," he sighed, "I don't think Wally likes me too much."

He looked curiously at the other two, gaging their reactions to the suggestion. They didn't deny it or reassure him that it wasn't true, like he had thought they were going to.

It was because they agreed with him.

"Well, we need to fix that," Joe said seriously, and it made Barry's stomach churn even more.

Barry didn't let his discontent show, though. He simply nodded as Joe continued.

"I mean, you've been so busy, running between alternate realities, you two haven't had a chance to spend any time together."

Barry didn't really know what to say to that.

"I mean," he shrugged, shaking his head questioningly, "What exactly do you want us to do together?"

As of now, Barry couldn't think of a single "bonding" activity he and Wally could do that would magically bring them closer and get Wally to stop seeing him as a total ass hat whom he had to compete with. To Wally, Barry was just this foreign attachment to their family—an extra person in the house, who he hadn't been expecting to be in the picture. Barry didn't really belong there, yet he had grown up in Joe's house instead of Wally. He had taken Wally's place all these years. All because Barry's family had died. Barry was just Joe's charity case. To Wally, Barry was just an outsider he had to compete with. In Wally's eyes, Joe only had room in his heart for one son, not two.

"Get to know each other," Iris said simply, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, "Find something that you guys have in common."

It was easy for her to say. She had had no problem bonding with Wally. Iris wasn't the one Wally felt threatened by, though. Barry was. As if to pour salt in his wounds, Joe let out a heavy sigh and continued.

"He's part of the family now, Bar," he said seriously, as if Barry was the one causing all the tension between them, "You're going to have to give it a chance."

Barry felt like he had been hit in the gut. It only added to the feeling that he was going to throw up. He could feel the vomit rising in his throat.

"I know," he managed to say, hoping his voice didn't sound too strained.

Maybe he was the problem. Maybe Wally wasn't trying to compete with him at all. Maybe it was all in his head, and Barry was only imagining it that way. Maybe he was the one trying to compete. He was the one who was feeling replaced.

His failures were already making him feel like he wasn't worthy of Joe's and Iris's love, and then Wally came along, and Joe and Iris were so taken with him. He was the good son. Barry was just the screw up. He had ruined too many things, made too many mistakes. It only made sense that Joe and Iris would be happy to have Wally come in and make up for all the things Barry couldn't be. Wally was the son Joe always wanted, the brother Iris never had.

He was their blood.

The thoughts made Barry's head spin, his nausea becoming overwhelming. He couldn't believe how his body was physically reacting to his thoughts. How could he be having such an intense physical response to stress? The room was starting to spin now, and within a matter of seconds, Barry broke out into a cold sweat.

"Barry?" Iris said, looking at him in concern, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he breathed, "I just—"

Barry's sentence cut off as he felt all the blood drain from his face. He felt his stomach lurch menacingly, and he flashed out of the room in an instant. Within a single second, Barry went from the living room to the bathroom, where he proceeded to empty his contracting stomach.

"Barry?!" he heard Joe and Iris call from the living room.

It didn't take them long to find him. He hadn't even had time to close the bathroom door. Within a minute, the two of them were standing in the doorway, looking at him in confusion as he violently emptied his stomach into the toilet.

"What the…?" Joe said as he looked at Barry.

"S-sorry," Barry choked, his eyes watering as he hunched over the toilet bowl.

"Are you sick?" Iris asked worriedly, "How are you sick? You don't get sick."

"I'm fine," Barry groaned, "I just…"

He didn't know what to tell them. He didn't understand it, himself. This couldn't just be stress. There had to be something else wrong. Maybe he was sick. Maybe he could get sick, after all, and he was just finding out about it now. Maybe he had caught some weird virus on earth two—one that actually affected speedsters.

Joe knelt down and put a hand on Barry's forehead.

"You don't have a fever," he said, furrowing his eyebrows, "Actually, you feel kind of clammy. And you're white as a sheet."

"Guess I'm the white shadow, after all," Barry laughed weakly.

Joe and Iris frowned at him.

"You heard Wally say that?" Joe asked quietly.

Barry nodded, still gasping and trying to catch his breath as he reigned in his nausea.

"I was on my way over to help you give him a tour of the precinct," he told them, "When I heard that, though…"

"Oh, Barry," Iris said sadly, "You know Wally didn't really mean that. He was just joking."

"Yeah," Barry whispered unconvincingly.

He wiped his forehead and stood up from the floor then, swaying slightly. He quickly regained his balance, though.

"I feel better now," he lied, "I…I think I'm just going to go to bed."

"Are you sure?" Joe asked, "Maybe we should call Caitlin. It's not normal for you to get sick like this."

"I'm fine," Barry insisted, "I think I just ate too much at dinner. My body might need excessive amounts of calories, but my stomach can still only handle so much."

"You only ate half your dinner," Iris disputed, frowning at him.

"Yeah, but I had a calorie bar before that," Barry said immediately.

It wasn't a complete lie. He had eaten half a calorie bar around noon. Granted, it was the only thing he had eaten today. They didn't need to know that, though.

"Guys, I'm fine," Barry insisted, "Really."

They didn't look very convinced, though. They were both still frowning at him.

"I wish you had just told us you were feeling sick," Joe sighed, "We would have understood. We wouldn't have made you sit through family game night."

"I wanted to be a part of it," Barry assured them, "And really, I wasn't feeling sick. It just hit me all of a sudden. I feel fine now, though. I'm just going to go to bed now. I'll go see Caitlin in the morning if it makes you feel better."

"Okay," Joe said softly, not entirely satisfied.

Barry had really only said he would go see Caitlin to get them off his back, but now he was starting to think it was probably a good idea. In fact, he probably would have gone to her sooner if the circumstances were different. Jay had just died right in front of her. Barry didn't really want to go to her and bother her when she was greiving just because his stomach was a little upset.

Now that he was actually throwing up, though, he decided he couldn't put it off any longer. It was starting to become a problem, especially where his appetite was concerned. He had no choice but to bother her with it at this point.

"Do you feel nauseated now?" Caitlin asked him seriously, as she took his blood pressure.

"Not really," Barry replied, "I mean, my stomach's kind of churning a bit, but it's been like that for a few weeks."

"A few weeks?!" Caitlin said incredulously, "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Because I thought it was just from stress," Barry shrugged, "And from…guilt over what happened with…"

"Barry," Caitlin said sadly, "Jay's death was not your fault."

Barry sighed and looked down at his knees, his long legs dangling from the med bay examination table he was sitting on.

"My point is," he continued after a moment, "I didn't think there was anything physically wrong with me. Now that I'm actually throwing up, though…"

"And this started right after you got back from earth two?" Caitlin frowned.

Barry nodded, and Caitlin looked thoughtfully at him for a moment.

"There is a chance you picked something up when you went there," she said slowly, "Maybe the bacteria there is different or you caught a virus of some sort."

"That's what I thought," Barry nodded, "Actually, if you think about it. It's kind of like King Tut's tomb. Everyone in the twenties assumed it was cursed because almost all the excavators who opened it died within a few days. But actually they were killed by an ancient virus that had been sealed inside the tomb. It was just a normal flu virus, but because it was different from modern day viruses, their bodies weren't equiped to handle it. Maybe that's what it's like with earth two. People from earth one don't have the same antibodies."

"That makes sense, I guess," Caitlin said slowly, "But no one else who went to earth two is sick, Barry, and your immune system should be a lot stronger than theirs."

"Maybe that's just it, though," Barry said slowly, thinking outloud, "The Spanish Influenza in the early 1900s killed mostly young, healthy males. It was because their immune systems were stronger and they had a more intense inflammatory response in their lungs, which ended up killing them. Sometimes, a strong immune system can work against you."

"Like a ketone storm," Caitlin said, her eyes widening, "When the immune system is so effective, it starts attacking the body along with the virus."

"Exactly," Barry nodded.

"I'm going to take a blood sample," Caitlin said urgently, "And I'll have to swab the back of your throat. I'm going to see if you have some sort of infection."

Barry nodded and held out his arm. He sat silently as Caitlin took all the samples she needed. However, he didn't just sit there and watch while she started analyzing them. He decided to help, pulling out a second microscope to look at his bood sample, himself, as Caitlin analyzed the throat culture she had gotten from him.

"I don't see any abnormal bacteria in the culture," she said looking through the lens of her microscope, "I'll have to let it inoculate overnight, though, to see what bacteria cultivates. The initial scan doesn't show any abnormal flora, though."

She looked up from her microscope then.

"Barry?"

Barry hardly heard her. He was busy looking at his blood sample.

"Barry, what is it?" she asked.

"I…" he said quietly, looking up from the microscope with a shocked look on his face, "I am sick."