A/N: Wow, so I wrote this because literally one person asked me? I don't understand my continued writing for this fandom as I have yet to watch any of the new season (I save it for summer to watch with my father). Nevertheless, I had to get it out of my head and, well, this happened- voila. Once again, more coma Barry because why not?
/
The day started out normal which, well, should've been his first sign that something was awry. He had seen both Barry and Iris earlier, giving Barry permission to geek out over whatever new thing was happening in the science world. He'd seen the both of them off, secretly jealous as he wanted nothing but to go home and crack open a beer and put his feet on the tables. Maybe even watch Family Matters reruns.
So, he should've known that his already long day was about to become way longer. Except, it didn't. It felt as if the entire day, Mardon, the robberies, Chyre… it was a lifetime ago. He's sopping wet, holding a coffee cup that he can crush just by looking at it, and staring.
Just staring.
/
He had been on the farm when Singh had called him and told him about Barry. At first, he thought it was some kind of joke, some sick, twisted humor. But, deep down in the gut of his stomach, Joe knew. Joe knew. And Barry, well, the kid couldn't get a break. He had rushed to his vehicle, Chyre wasn't forgotten, but he wasn't exactly on the forefront of his mind either. Joe had a feeling he would understand. He sped away, regardless of the quizzical looks he saw from surrounding officers and called Iris.
Which, well, was a mistake.
As soon as Iris picked up, the feeling in his gut just made itself at home. It just settled in the bottom of his stomach and festered the entire talk. Iris, his brave, beautiful, strong daughter was distraught to tell him that she basically watched Barry die. And damn, if he didn't grip the steering wheel a bit tighter and almost swerve into a tree. He hung up after, telling her that he was on his way and the entire ride to the hospital was quiet and it led his mind into thoughts that he didn't want to think. The only good thing (and wow, since when is citywide destruction a good thing?) was the haphazard people and debris in the city. Singh was correct though, whatever exploded seemed to just have left the city in disarray, but luckily nothing was really in need of complete repair.
The ride was short despite all of the panic, or maybe it was just short because Joe was zoned out and forgot to pay attention. Either way, he ended up at the desired location: the hospital. The hospital wasn't unusually crowded, being that it's not the closest to the accelerator, and Joe has seen hospitals at maximum capacity, so while they're close to it, he knows it could be worse.
He walks into the emergency waiting room and finds it filled with people who are sick, injured, and wandering helplessly-much like he is now. Somehow or another, he finds Iris or Iris finds him and when he first looks at her, her puffy, red eyes, the way she's shaking-he assumes the worst.
"Baby, I'm here now," he says in way of greeting. He grabs her and pulls her tight, regardless of wet clothes, thinking that it could be her too in a hospital bed. For some reason, this makes Iris start sobbing and his heart starts speed up again. She hasn't said anything about his condition. Did something happen? Were they not-not able to restart his heart? The thoughts and questions that run through his mind make him choke down a sob into Iris' hair. He couldn't cry now, if he did everything would catch up with him, everything. And right now, loathe as he is to admit it, he needs to be strong. He needs to be strong for himself, for Iris, and for...for Barry.
The hugs lasts a few more seconds and they share an intense squeeze before they part. Iris wipes her hand across her eyes and runs a hand through her hair, looking at Joe for a few seconds, as if to evaluate that he too, is okay. He takes this moment to gather himself mentally and put on a brave face. He pushes Iris into the uncomfortable chairs that were right next to them in this awful waiting room and waits for her to get settled before asking:
"Iris, what happened?"
Then, it all came spilling out like poorly bagged groceries. She looks away for a few seconds, focusing on two people in the far corner. The doctor just walked away and judging by their reaction, the doctor didn't have good news. The two people hugged and then one of them sort of just fell to the floor in despair. Iris could sympathize extremely well.
"We were on our way to watch them switch on the particle accelerator when someone grabbed my bag." Joe's face hardened into 'detective-mode' but Iris pressed on. "Barry, of course, went after it, but ended up getting a hit to the face and stomach. Detective Pretty Boy caught the mugger and took us both back to the station for our statements." She pauses here and takes a shaky breath. "Everything was fine, we were just hanging out at the station. Barry was upset that he was going to miss everything, but he got over it." She runs a hand over her face and Joe blinks away tears. "He went up to his lab, figuring to he could get to work on some things and take them home...I was downstairs." She lets out a sob. "The lights went out and we all saw this flash of what must've been the explosion." She looks at him, and for a second Joe sees her as an eleven-year-old who had just woken up from a nightmare with a tear-stricken face. He lets his mind wander to happier, past memories, relishing in the simplicity of past.
"Dad, you should've heard the crash. It-it came from upstairs, Singh ran up there. He was yelling, yelling for help, saying that Allen- Barry - was hurt." Joe reached out and rubbed her arms before pulling her into a hug. Despite her voice being muffled, she continued, determined to get this out. "A few of the officers ran up to help and they tried not to move him too much, but he was on top of all of his chemicals and the overturned shelf. I-I didn't help, I was frozen everyone was freaking out and-and-" Joe cut her off.
"Shh, baby, it's okay, Barry is here, he's getting all the help he needs." Even to him, his own words didn't sound convincing. The both of them sat together, still hugging in silence for a few moments.
"I wasn't able to ride in the ambulance with him, but-but when I got here, he was wheeled into the room." A haunted look passed over her features. "He was dead, dad. He had no pulse." The air was sucked right out of Joe's lungs and he ran a hand over his face. He was surprised he didn't cry, but he didn't feel anything, he was numb. It sounded fake. Barry, for chrissakes, getting struck by lightning of all things. Not a car crash or something normal, no, Barry just had to one up them on abnormality once again.
The both of them sat there, unable to look at each other lost in their thoughts. Around them, the ER continued to be the perfect oxymoron of calmingly chaotic as doctors and nurses ran around. All the while, those left in the waiting room seemed to be in a different place altogether.
/
The conversation of what happened was hours ago and now Joe stood with a flimsy coffee cup in his hands staring out the window. He wasn't entirely sure what he was staring at, but it allowed his mind to attempt to process what happened. Outside, the city looked a little rough for wear, but nothing too drastic seemed to be happening. When he looked out, he saw people performing their own schedules a twinge of jealousy shot through Joe as he wished that could be him. He turned his attention to the nurse behind the station, typing away. Despite his insistence, the nurses weren't very forthcoming with information on Barry's condition.
"Do you know anything about my son? Barry Allen," he hesitated, but figured the uniqueness of this situation could come in handy. "The one that was struck by lightning?" The nurse looked at him somehow being sympathetic and skeptical at the same time.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but it's the same as last time: still no update. You'll be the first to know any information." The coffee cup screeched in protest of his squeezing, but he looked at her helplessly and nodded. His shoes squelched as he turned his heel and he was once again reminded of the uncomfortability of his now damp clothes. He walked away in a daze, his emotions were stunted from being out of the know. He couldn't properly process anything without knowing what was happening. He turned to look at Iris, who was asleep on the chair, before hurling the half full coffee cup into the trash. He sat on the chair next to Iris and put his head in his hands.
He had forgotten about Chyre and how he would have to go see his wife and children and explain all that happened. He stared at the floor and clenched his fists. Anger stirred up inside him and tears blurred his vision. How could this happen? How could he possibly begin to deal with not only the death of his partner, but the potential death of his son? Didn't the world have anyone else to dump its shit on? He clasped his shaking hands together and let a few of his angry tears out. He looked over to Iris, who had unwillingly fallen asleep, being exhausted from all the crying. He draped his jacket over her and took another look around. The ER had slowed down, now that it was reaching the wee hours of the morning. The waiting room had cleared out and was now just the two of them and four other people. He spared another glance at Iris and was once again bombarded with images of her as a child. Her and Barry cuddled on the couch to watch a scary movie. The three of them getting ice cream after a little league game. Him and Iris watching Barry get first place at the science fair. In fact, Joe could barely remember a time when Barry wasn't in his life and now-
Now, he might not have to go too far to imagine the rest of his days being just him and Iris. No more him, Iris, and Barry. Three musketeers down to just two.
A sob came from his throat and he tried to choke it down before it woke Iris. He bit into his finger and squeezed his eyes shut as tears cascaded down his cheeks. His body shook with whole sobs, but he didn't make a sound. The mere thought of losing Barry, having to learn to go through life missing a huge part of himself, was indescribable. He didn't want to think it. He let himself wallow in self-pity and pain for a few more moments before gathering himself together and making sure he didn't wake Iris.
God, Iris. If he was feeling the way he was now, he couldn't imagine what it must be like for Iris to lose her second half…
"Mr. West?" His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a doctor coming towards him and Iris. He ignored correcting him into saying 'Detective' because he wanted to know how Barry was. He began to stand up and nudged Iris awake. She was groggy at first, but then saw the man in scrubs in front of her and bolted upright.
"How is he?" She blurted, ignoring all social decorum and rushing straight to the important things. The doctor didn't seem to be bothered, that or he was too tired. Joe tried to analyze the man, trying to see if he had brought good or bad news.
"Barry is...alive." Both Iris and Joe let out a sigh of relief. The doctor held up his hands. "I'm not going to lie it was touch and go for a while and he is still not completely stable." Joe got the message: Barry's alive now, but he might not be later. Joe let that sink in, let the thought marinate in his mind. He feels relief now, but in a day or two he could feel twice as much grief for getting his hopes up. He's trying not to let his hopes up, but the idea of Barry being alive already brightened this bleak day.
"Can we see him?" Iris, down to business as usual, also must've felt the same relief for her shoulders relaxed. The doctor nodded.
"He's in ICU, but you can visit him. I suggest you only do so for a few minutes. The nurses tend to get strict when it comes to visiting hours." He led them down a hallway where the beeping from machines was the only sound. Joe felt his stomach drop.
"What was- what happened, doctor?" Joe said as he peeked into a room where an elderly man was silently crying holding an aging woman's hand. His heart leapt into his throat and he averted his eyes from their private moment.
"Well, when anyone gets struck by lightning it's the heart we really have to worry about. Mr. Allen's was...uncooperative. We almost thought we were going to have to have surgery and place a pacemaker in him. Along with the heart, there were a few injuries from how he fell or was thrown. His ribs were bruised as was a majority of his back, along with some on his face. On top of this, he landed into some unsafe chemicals. We're running tests, but as of right now there seems to be no adverse effects from them." The doctor paused and took in the horrified looks from Joe and Iris. He stopped his steps.
"But-but he's going to be fine, right?" Iris asked. The doctor let out a sigh.
"To be completely honest, I have no idea. Right now, everything depends on his heart. It doesn't seem to be failing from any damage, it's just...off rhythm." He continued down the hallway and stopped in front of a door. He gave the both of them stern looks. "I'm warning you, he is not going to look like himself. To some people this may be quite a shock, okay?" Iris and Joe nodded dumbly. The doctor side stepped to let the two of them into the room. There was a low, incessant beeping along with the sound of something whooshing. When Joe walked in and looked at Barry, his whole body went numb.
Barry was in the bed with a bruised and cut forehead. His hands were slacked down by his side and his body moved according to the whooshing, and that was the scariest. The giant tube running from a machine to his mouth which was covered by a white strip. It looked abnormally large for Barry and extremely uncomfortable.
"We had to place him on a ventilator until we can run further tests. As of right now, his body isn't strong enough to breathe on its own." Yeah, Joe felt the same way right now. Barry looked like a completely different person. His pale face and hands blending right into the bed and his bruises sticking out even more. Even in his sleep, Barry is never this still or quiet. It was disconcerting and scary and terrifying, and Joe wanted to punch something.
He turned towards Iris who must've thought the same exact thing he did for she started crying once again. She reached out to take his hand, but hesitated.
"It's alright, you can touch him. Just try not to mess with any of the wires." The doctor gave them both a look that was practiced indifference. "I'll leave you two to it, then." And, with that, he walked out.
For a few moments the only sound was the machines and Barry's forced breathing. Then, Iris let out a borderline wail. She grasped at Barry's hand tightly, annoyed at how limp and unresponsive it was. Joe moved to her and slid and slid a chair next to hers. He would've sat on the bed, but he didn't want to jostle Barry in his already fragile form. He held Iris tightly and kept his gaze locked on the both of their hands. Then, suddenly, Iris let out a bark of laughter.
"What?" Joe asked, mind boggling at the change in emotion.
"Isn't it funny how his heart is killing him, but it's also what makes Barry, Barry?"
Joe- he didn't know what to say to that.
/
They were kicked out an hour later by the nurses. The both of them had a silent walk to the car and car ride. When they walked into the house and Iris almost tripped over Barry's hastily thrown sweater from the morning when she was advising him what to wear to STAR labs, she let out a laugh. It was so bizarre how the whole world seemed to have moved on and the entire day happened. Her life was flipped upside down, probably never going to be the same, but the house was the same. Their home was the only constant in this storm and Iris was both grateful and unappreciative. Grateful, because things were preserved. Barry's sweater, his used coffee mug and plate that were in the sink, were all proof of Barry being here- him living. She was unappreciative, because as she did the dishes to distract herself, she found herself angry at the preservation. It was as if the house was mocking her that Barry wasn't here. 'You never realize how much space a person takes up in your life until they leave,' she thought. Barry's sweater, his dirty dishes, were only a small part of the mark that he had left on the house. His favorite blanket was draped over the couch, his post it's on the fridge, his childish cereal in the cabinet. It was too much. Iris finished drying the mug, ignoring that it was also Barry's job to dry and turned to see her father, who had changed into dry clothes, staring at the fridge.
One of the aforementioned post-it notes with Barry's scrawl was on the fridge reminding Joe to get milk. But, of course, in true Barry fashion, it was a rambling of a note saying, 'So, I may have accidentally drank all the milk...sorry? Stop and get more plz? 3 Barry' Joe's fingers lightly traced the note and he abruptly turned away. He gripped the back of the dining room chair until his knuckles ached. Iris, who watched the entire ordeal, wiped her hands and placed them on her father's shoulders.
"He'll be okay," she said.
"He'll be okay," Joe repeated, trying desperately to believe it.
/
The next day Joe calls out of work and Singh understands completely. Granted, both he and Iris slept well into the afternoon, so he assumes that Singh had already guessed he'd call out but trying to stay formal he calls him. He's thankful to have a boss that's so understanding, even if he knows that Singh knows that he will be completely useless due to his state of mind. Iris is lucky as well, Jitters will be closed for a few days for some minor repairs, so she is off the hook as well. The both of them run through their daily routine, or rather try to, and ignore the empty space that Barry would have filled. His seat was left untouched, Joe had accidentally made an extra cup of coffee, and Iris forgot that she didn't need to knock on his door to see if he was awake. Overall, when they got to the car, the two of them were anxious for normalcy that they knew wouldn't come until Barry was awake.
The hospital was exactly how they left it, a bit more crowded this time of day and a change of shift was all that was different. When Joe walked the halls of the ICU, he noted that the room with the elderly couple was now empty. His fists clenched unconsciously as he realized that that could happen to his family too. Some of the nurses smiled and waved at them and as they approached Barry's room a young pretty nurse was in there now.
"Hello!" She gave them a smile and wave as she finished adjusting Barry's IV. Her enthusiasm and energy probably meant she had just come on shift.
"Hi," Iris said, liking the young nurse as she fluffed Barry's pillow to make him more comfortable. The nurse moved towards the small wardrobe at the wall opposite of Barry's bed and opened the door.
"I just thought I'd let you know that his belongings are in here," she pats the shelf. "We salvaged what we could, but in emergency situations…" she drifted. Joe spoke up.
"No, no, we get it. Possessions are replaceable. Barry is not," Joe let his eyes drift to the prone form on the bed and the nurse gave a small smile. She gave them one last glance and one last check of Barry's vitals before leaving. Once she left Iris made her way to the bedside to hold Barry's hand and Joe to the wardrobe.
"You don't think Barry had anything with him that he thinks is valuable, do you?" Iris asked quietly. She was gripping his hand and rubbing his hair with her other hand. Joe shook his head.
"I don't think so, but you never know with him. If anything was, I'm sure he'd appreciate being alive over any object." He reached for the bag and brought it over to the other chair across from Iris. The plastic was loud when he started trifling through to bring out Barr's belongings. The nurse was right, they weren't able to salvage much.
"I'm surprised they salvaged anything." Iris' eyes drifted to the wall and her face hardened. "They had to rip his shirt and sweater, one of his better ones he'll be upset about that, to shock him. I saw it when they first brought him in." Her eyes filled with tears, but none leaked. She brought her gaze back to Joe. "I thought we lost him." It was the first time either had voiced their thoughts about Barry actually dying. The both of them of course had thought them, but never said anything to one another. Of course, on the phone Iris had said she watched it, but she and Joe had faith that Barry would pull through.
"He's here now," was all Joe could say. The both of them knew that that could easily change. She nodded slowly and gestured to the bag.
"So, what's left of his?" Joe started pulling his belongings out of the bag. Instantly, the room was filled with an acrid odor as if something had been in an electrical fire. Joe wrinkled his nose in disgust. But, then the sobering thought of Barry being in these clothes that smell burnt made his heart twinge. Iris had also made the same connection.
"Oh my God," she placed her hand over her mouth and the tears that were waiting in her eyes fell. "It smells-"
"Awful." Joe finished. He held up a pair of pants. There was a noticeable tear near the ankle and chemical stains that would make the pants unwearable- really there was no use in salvaging them, but it's the thought that counts. He folds them and places them next to Barry's leg, unable to get the image of Barry lying in a pool of chemicals on an overturned shelf waiting for help, out of his head.
"We'll throw those out later," Iris said, her gaze lingering on the pants. Joe then pulled out Barry's wallet and phone. His wallet seemed intact, only having a slight stain on the leather and his phone screen was cracked. He was surprised to see his phone had any battery. He clicked the screen and saw ten missed calls and fifteen messages from a person named Felicity Smoak.
"Do you know a Felicity Smoak?" Joe raised the phone to Iris' eyes. She shook her head, pondering.
"No, but it must've been someone he met in Starling City. We should probably find a way to contact her if she's been blowing up his phone like that." Joe nodded and placed the cracked phone and wallet on the bed next to the pants. He pulled out his boxers, but there was nothing significant about them except for a bit of blood on the waistband. The sight made the both of them queasy. He folded them onto the pants, not wanting to comprehend what the sight of the blood really meant. Iris averted her eyes and instead looked towards Barry and gripped his hand tighter.
Lastly, he pulled out Barry's preferred footwear since Joe had known him: converse. He tugged lightly at the converse and they popped out of the bag. His eyes watered at the sight of Barry's favorite shoes. His once, pristine, black, high-top converse- "These are my work shoes, Joe"- were destroyed. The laces hung limply and were stained with what looked like a bit of blood and chemicals from the lab. Joe let the shoe hang limply in front of him as he and Iris stared. The cloth of the shoe had been bleached, most likely from said chemicals, and was flimsy and stiff at the same time. The ankle was stiff as if Barry's ankle was still in it, but the foot part was con-caved in. The whites of the edges were stained and darkened from being burnt. Joe let the shoe hang in front of him, entrancing him almost like a hypnotist would.
The worst part was the smell.
It had a chemical smell of course, but there was also the coppery tinge of blood. The fact that it was Barry's blood made Joe want to lose his breakfast. But, the most overpowering smell was the burnt rubber. It wasn't the fun kind of rubber burning smell like at a race track, no, it was awful. The stench fell off the shoe in waves and when Joe turned to see the bottom of the rubber sole, he found a hole that seemed to be the source of the worst part of the smell. The hole was blackened, and Joe feared to touch it because it looked like it would crumble into ash. He tried not to think of Barry burning into his shoes, or the doctors prying them off his feet and seeing burns.
He also tried not to think about the fact that the shoes were new. Barry had just gotten them after Joe threatened to go to Singh and have him cite an infraction on his 'uniform.' He turned pink and had glanced down at his well-worn shoes that were scuffed and ripped. Barry had explained to Joe that it was extremely hard to wear new converse in. The bottom of the shoe was harsh and had taken millions of steps to get nice and worn to his foot. The laces and body of the shoe, while faded, ripped and torn, were easy and pliable that were almost shaped to his ankle and foot. They fit him perfectly, despite the teasing that Joe gave when he tripped and scuffed the floor. He was pouting, but still ordered a new pair offline stating that they'd be there in two days.
Joe let the shoe do another full rotation.
The shoe in his hand wasn't worn in. It wouldn't be able to get worn in. The lightning took away those millions of steps it took for the rubber soles to finally have a bit of give. There were no floors for these shoes to scuff. No destinations, no puddles to accidentally step in, no being thrown hastily in the most inopportune place, but most importantly, no Barry to fill them.
Joe placed the shoe on the bed and looked at Barry.
Right now, Barry wouldn't be able to take those steps. He didn't get to wear in those rubber soles. There were no destinations for Barry, no puddles for him to step into, and he wouldn't be there to hastily throw them in the foyer for Joe and Iris to trip over. Right now, Barry was in a stagnant state, and while Joe hoped for him to get better, it wasn't up to him. All he and Iris could do was stand on the sidelines and pray for a miracle.
He continued to watch Barry take forced breaths and allowed his eyes to tear up. He couldn't do this. He wasn't ready for this. He didn't want to entertain the idea of not having Barry in his life. He didn't want to try and listen to the what repercussions the doctor's listed- he just wanted Barry. A sob made its way up his throat and he squeezed the goddamn shoes that started this downpour of awful thoughts.
"Dad," Iris said. She paused her hand holding to look at him. She got up to make her way towards her father who was currently sobbing over Barry. His whole body shook as she grabbed him in a tight hug, her own emotions boiling over too. A few tears leaked onto Joe's jacket as she hugged him.
"Baby, I- I don't-" he shook his head, unable to complete the thought.
"It's okay, dad." he tugged her closer to him.
"I don't know what to do." He said after a few moments of silence. Saying the words made his mouth go sour, it was such a foreign feeling and he didn't like not having answers. He turned to her and the both of them looked at each other through glassy, tearful eyes. "I don't know what to do." He whispered, and Iris nodded her head.
"Neither do I," she placed her hands on his face. For a moment he forgot where he was, imagining himself at home standing vigil at Barry's bed because he was sick, at the station late at night with Barry napping in a chair and Iris coming to pick them up, his mind brought him anywhere but here. With a glance at Barry, he found himself able to build up strength. Barry wouldn't want this: the both of them wallowing and wailing. When he gazed back into Iris' eyes, he found the same strength and realization in her eyes.
"Whatever happens, we're in this together," she broke through his concentration again. He nodded at her.
"We'll get through this," Joe said, willing himself to at least partially believe it.
"We'll get through this," Iris echoed.
/
Yeah, so that happened. I don't know why I'm so angsty, I'm not a teen anymore (my birthday is today!) but I feed off of hurt comfort and angst- I have a serious problem. Do whatever you want, comment, favorite whatever. I find that the rubber soles was a good title and worked the plot- a majority of it- off the title and believe me that was hard. However, it makes it that much more impactful having one item to focus all the emotion on. In this case it was Barry's new and barely worn shoes. Thanks! (also sorry about the line breaks this website is so finicky)