A/N: Hello fellow Flash Fans, Merry Christmas. I decided to post this story because I'm in the Christmas mood, being that it is the day before Christmas Eve. This story will probably be a two or three parter, and will explore my OC Mason, Barry's son, and his search for the perfect gift as the title suggests. This story can be seen one of two ways: as either a future fic or an alternate dimension (which is the original intention, but I'm writing it to work both ways) I own nothing, except for my OCs. I hope you enjoy this little bit of holiday cheer.
The Perfect Gift (Part One)
Mason's POV
What do you give someone who does almost everything for everyone without a second thought? What's the perfect gift for a real life superhero? What do you do when that superhero is your dad? This was the dilemma I faced one year when I finally realized just how much my dad did for everyone.
I was twelve. It was maybe a month before Christmas. I already had some sketches done for everyone, my usual go to gift, and before December fifteenth, they seemed like they would do just fine. I would sit in the cortex with Uncle Cisco watching the monitors and sketching the battles as they played out.
"If we decide to start an ad campaign, these would make great publicity." Uncle Cisco would joke.
Of course, there was no ad campaign. There never would be. It's not how things operated around STAR or for the Flash, but the compliments left me flying high for a while, until dad came home one day and I realized what it was I actually drew.
I prided myself on catching every detail in my drawings. I would draw every aspect of every moment, but there was one important detail I missed.
Dad zipped into the cortex on December fifteenth, but rather than waiting for the accolades that usually accompanied the aftermath of a successful rescue, he passed us by flashing in the direction of the medbay.
I knew he had rescued three kids. I knew the meta he had fought had come close to killing them, some psycho who liked to do a play on Christmas cheer as torture by dressing as a demented Santa and using Christmas trees as a weapon, seemed there was always one of those every December according to Mom and the others. But what I didn't know was why Dad had left without saying anything.
I stood and walked over to the medbay where Caitlin and my dad were talking as she patched him up, but rather than going in, I crouched listening through the open door.
"You did good Barry." Caitlin said. "They're safe because of you."
"They're safe," Dad replied. "But I couldn't save everyone." And that was the crux of it. I kept listening.
What we hadn't heard back here at the lab was the conversation once he had dropped them off at their aunt's house. "I turned off the comm." Dad continued.
Whenever kids were involved in rescues, Dad always stuck around longer to make sure they were safe. As he had talked with the aunt, maybe a five minute conversation, he learned that these three children he'd rescued had lost their parents in a car accident at Christmas the year previous. And that he had saved the family so much more heartbreak this year.
"Oh Barry..." Caitlin said.
That was the moment I knew. I needed to find something better than a drawing.
A/N: Let me know your thoughts. Also if you have any questions or want to see more with or know more about Mason let me know.
