Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine.
Prologue
"I'll get it, Jay," Joan Garrick called to her husband, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. She walked to the front door and opened it. An unfamiliar woman stood on the porch. Joan smiled and mentally prepared herself for a sales pitch of some sort. "May I help you?"
"Are you Mrs. Joan Garrick?"
"Yes, that's me." Salespeople typically didn't know whose door on which they were knocking. Joan felt the first tinge of unease. Instinct told her bad news was coming. Thankfully, Jay was at home, so whatever the news, it didn't concern her husband. However, their extended family was large. Yet, their extended family was mostly in the hero business. If something bad had happened, Jay would have been notified. Besides, on closer inspection, the woman didn't look like a police officer. She wasn't dressed in a uniform. Nor did she feel like a detective.
"My name is Ellen Taylor. I'm a social worker from the California Department of Social Services. According to our records, you were guardians of the late Bart Allen?"
The questions tumbled through her mind. What was a social worker from California doing in Keystone City, Kansas? What did this have to do with Bart? Since his return, his identity had been kept from the public. "Please, come in. If this is regarding Bart, I think my husband Jay should hear whatever you have to say." Joan opened the door and showed the woman to the living room. As she hurried to the kitchen, she said a silent prayer of thanks that neither Bart nor Max was currently at the house. While Max's presence could be easily explained, Bart's would have been much more difficult.
Jay Garrick, aka the Flash, looked up from doing the newspaper's crossword puzzle. He immediately sensed his wife's discomfort. "Joan? What's wrong?"
"There's a social worker here. It's something to do with Bart." Joan saw the worry immediately appear on her husband's face. Bart's history was about as convoluted as they came. Born in the 30th century, the grandson of Barry Allen, the cousin of Wally West, his past just raised many questions, too many questions with no easy answers. As a result, with the help of Oracle, Bart had gotten a new life in the 21st century. But then he had aged four years in a matter of days. Once again, Oracle had rewritten Bart's history. Then he had died. Then he had come back. At the rate Bart was going, he would be getting a new life history every few years.
Joan and Jay rejoined the social worker in the living room. They listened in shock to the social worker's story. Had they been asked to guess what a social worker would want to see them about, they would have guessed maybe some unfinished paperwork related to Bart's time at the police academy or some unpaid bill that had suddenly surfaced. They never would have guessed the real reason behind the social worker's visit.
"You can see our dilemma," the social worker concluded. "We know you aren't blood relatives, but given that you were Bart's guardians at one time, and the fact his paperwork from the Los Angeles Police Academy listed you as emergency contacts, we thought you should be made aware of the situation."
"Yes, thank you," Joan said. Shock didn't begin to describe how she felt. She glanced at her husband. He also seemed to be at a loss for words. "How long do we have to decide?"
"The sooner, the better. I know I've hit you with news you never expected to hear. It's a lot to process. However, the sooner we can move forward, the better."
"We understand," Jay answered. "We'll let you know in a few days."
The social worker smiled. "That would be great. Here's my card. I go back to California this afternoon. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call me day or night."
When the woman had left, Joan looked her husband. "What do we do? Bart needs to know."
"I agree. He does. But first, I think I need to talk to the others. This is going to get complicated."