Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine.
A/N: This story is AU. See Chapter 1 for more details.
"Today, three members of the Justice League took time to-"
Iris paused in her work and turned her attention to the television news show. As the news anchor read the story, the screen showed three members of the Justice League – the Flash, Green Lantern and Wonder Woman – helping raise money for a charity. The news anchor noted that ever since the Flash had given a one-on-one interview with a reporter from Central City, there had been a noticeable change with some of the world's heroes. As strange as it sounded, it seemed as if the heroes had relaxed a bit, as if the Flash had broken through some unseen barrier. While none of the other heroes had given an in-depth interview like the Flash had, they somehow seemed more open and approachable.
Iris breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully it was a good sign she hadn't been contacted by the network to provide her thoughts on why the heroes seemed to be acting different. While she had known her Flash interview would grab attention, she hadn't been prepared for the level of attention. She had been naïve, something she was embarrassed to admit. It had been a given the Associated Press would pick up her story and make it available worldwide. Immediately the television news shows and talk shows had started calling. Her editor had demanded that she accept at least two interviews – one with a news show and one with a talk show. Iris had balked at the idea, but her editor had made it known that he had the final say. Besides, two interviews was better than demanding three or even more. So, against her better judgment, she had traveled to one of the local network affiliates to give remote interviews. She had flatly refused to travel to New York. Maybe others would have viewed it as an honor, but she wasn't one of them. She viewed the interviews as nothing but an inconvenience.
Both interviews had left her with a sour taste. For the first time, she had experienced what it felt like to be the interviewee rather than the interviewer. She hadn't enjoyed the experience. Both interviewers had seemed to have been eagerly waiting for her to slip up, to admit to something that hadn't been in her article. If she hadn't been a reporter, hadn't been aware of their tactics, it might have worked. Instead, she had stuck to the facts, not been intimidated by their pregnant pauses. Looking back, she hoped to use her interviewee experiences as a means to become a more conscientious reporter.
Thankfully, interest in her and the Flash interview had quickly waned. Other stories had captured the media's fickle attention. However, the current television program revealed that the interest hadn't completely died. If – no, when – she landed another Flash interview, Iris suspected the attention would return. Worse, she expected the attention could turn downright nasty if her next Flash interview was not as in-depth as her first, or if the Flash decided to give someone else an in-depth interview. The joys of life in the world of the media.
It seemed as if it would only be a matter of time before another hero granted an in-depth interview. Already, the heroes seemed more inclined to drop a small nugget of personal information rather sticking strictly to the facts. Iris the Green Lantern would be the next hero to follow in the Flash's footsteps. Why she suspected such a thing was a mystery. It was merely a hunch…perhaps because the Flash and Green Lantern were friends, perhaps because she thought the Flash would have some influence on the Green Lantern.
Thinking of the Green Lantern, she watched him on the television screen. A broad smile covered his face. Iris froze. That smile. She knew that smile. Her eyes moved to that lock of brown hair that seemed to fall across the brow and ask to be swept back. She recognized it as well. Hal. It had to be. It couldn't be.
With a quickened heartbeat, her fingers flew across her laptop's keyboard. The last time Hal had visited, she, Barry, Hal and Wally had gone out to celebrate the Flash interview. Photos had been taken. A double-click of the mouse enlarged one of the photos to reveal a smiling Hal. A quick Internet search got her a picture of Green Lantern. She placed the pictures side-by-side. Even though Green Lantern wore a mask, it was impossible to deny the resemblance. The same carefree smile, the same errant lock of brown hair, the same build… Hal Jordan was the Green Lantern, or at least one of them. If it wasn't Hal, it had to be his twin brother. In her heart, though, she knew it was Hal. Had she just cracked a superhero secret identity? It couldn't be. It had to be.
Iris sat back and stared at the pictures. It fit. It made sense. And it was more than just looks. Hal lived in Coast City. While no one knew where the Green Lantern lived, the hero – at least the Green Lantern on her computer screen – protected Coast City. The other Green Lanterns seemed to focus on either New York City or Detroit. It could be assumed that this Green Lantern lived either in or near Coast City, which made the possibility of Hal being the Green Lantern even more likely.
Staring at the pictures, thinking about Hal, it seemed so obvious. How had she missed it? How had anyone missed it? He only used a mask to cover his eyes and nose. A quick Internet search located an audio clip of the Green Lantern's voice. He didn't say much, but Iris recognized the voice. He did nothing to try to disguise it.
Her eyes moved back to the television. The story was over. A commercial was selling the benefits of a new arthritis drug. Her mind continued to assemble the facts. Hal Jordan was the Green Lantern. The Green Lantern and the Flash were good friends. Like the Green Lantern, no one knew where the Flash lived, however, he protected Central City. Hal visited Central City frequently. Could she tie the dates of his visits with Green Lantern appearances? Perhaps not all of his visits, but she suspected she could for many of his visits.
The bigger question was why – why did Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern seem to favor Central City after Coast City? Because there was someone in Central City…a friend…the Flash. That assumption only led to one obvious conclusion. "Barry's the Flash," she whispered. It made logical sense, except that there were absolutely no signs – no indications – that Barry was the Flash. Yes, he was good-natured and friendly like the Flash. The two men shared a similar build, but Iris never would have guessed Barry was atypically strong or fast. He seemed like an average guy. Then again, so did Hal. There were no signs or indications that he was the Green Lantern. He didn't even wear a green ring.
If she didn't doubt Hal was the Green Lantern, why did she doubt Barry as the Flash? The fact Barry was perpetually late didn't help matters. Some might argue that his tardiness could be viewed as a cover, but Iris knew that wasn't the case. It was simply who Barry was. He didn't try to be late. He didn't purposefully dawdle. Instead, he simply got caught up in whatever he was doing at the time. She had quickly learned that if she wanted to be with Barry, she needed to accept his lack of time management skills.
The only thing Barry definitely seemed to share in common with the Flash was blue eyes. It didn't seem to be enough. If she tried to base a story on just one fact and lots of coincidences, she'd be a laughingstock. But how much different was it from believing Hal was the Green Lantern? She had made that jump using just two facts – a smile and a lock of hair – and lots of coincidences.
Besides, the key seemed to be Barry and Hal's friendship. Since she had first met Barry, Barry had never been able to give her a logical explanation for how he and Hal were friends. Even her own investigation had revealed no reasons to support the friendship of two men who had met in Central City while the city was being attacked by a gorilla…who was eventually stopped by the Flash and Green Lantern, she silently added. During the interview, the Flash had confirmed he and Green Lantern had first worked together when Gorilla Grodd had attacked Central City. Barry and Hal had truly met due to a gorilla. The story – as strange as it sounded – had been the truth…just not all the facts.
Could she really blame him or Hal being vague? Had she been completely truthful about everything? Definitely not. She had never outright lied, but she hadn't always been completely forthcoming either. Just like Barry and Hal.
What would they do when they learned she had figured out their identities? Would it change anything? Would she view Barry and Hal differently now that she knew they were two of the world's heroes? She honestly didn't know. It obviously changed her perception of the men, of who they were. Barry was no longer "just" a police scientist; Hal was no longer "just" a fighter jet pilot. But did their hero personas really differ from the men she knew? Having interviewed the Flash, or rather Barry in the Flash persona, she knew the answer was no. For at least both Barry and Hal, their civilian personalities seemed to mimic their hero personalities.
Perhaps the bigger question was whether her knowledge would change how they viewed her? Being a reporter would demand a close look at the issue of trust. Publicly identifying either or both of them could make her career…it could even make her rich. Even if she didn't break the story, she could easily sell the story. Her financial concerns could be a thing of the past. Then again, her relationship with Barry would also be a thing of the past and she wasn't willing to risk that relationship. Besides, even if she didn't care about her relationship with Barry, she still couldn't picture herself doing anything with the information. What good would be gained by knowing who the Flash or Green Lantern really were? When it came to knowing the person behind the mask, the benefits of having a secret identity seemed to weigh in the favor of the heroes. Secret identities allowed them to have a life. The public wasn't harmed by not knowing who they really were.
Hopefully Barry and Hal would use her Flash interview as a measuring stick for her trustworthiness. As Barry could attest, she had honored his requests to not share some information. She hadn't even alluded to it or spun her own theories.
Besides, all this presumed she was going to admit to Barry and Hal that she knew. Most likely, they would vehemently deny her allegations. Most likely they would have a long list of possible – and highly plausible – explanations. What good would telling them she knew do? It would just cause them added worry. Besides, the Flash's – Barry's – fears echoed in her mind. His fears related to the safety of those who knew who he was. She suddenly understood what he had meant when he said the knowledge was a burden. Now that she knew, she couldn't forget. Now that she knew, she'd worry every time the Flash was involved in a conflict of any sort. Maybe it didn't happen often, but even superheroes could get hurt. Though, come to think of it, she had never seen as much as a scratch or bruise on Barry which did seem a little strange. She pushed the thought from her mind. She wasn't going to start wondering again if Barry were the Flash. In her heart, she knew he was. End of story.
Or was it? Maybe she could call Barry or drop by the police station unexpectedly…if she stopped by his office, she could discreetly compare Barry's story of what he had been doing earlier today when the Flash had been out East to what his coworkers said. She sighed. Did it matter? What did she want to prove? Even if she proved he had been gone, what good would that information do? She couldn't – or wouldn't – share it with anyone else. She didn't want to confront Barry with it either, at least not yet.
Her cell phone buzzed. Iris glanced at the screen. A three-alarm fire in the warehouse district near the riverfront. It wasn't her typical beat, but the reporter who usually covered such incidents was on vacation and Iris was covering for him. She shut her laptop, grabbed her purse and keys, and headed out the door. Thoughts of Barry and Hal and the Flash and the Green Lantern pushed to the side as her mind shifted into reporter gear.
Arriving on the scene, she recognized several other reporters. Iris also recognized one of the police officers assigned to crowd control. "Hi, Fred," she greeted with a smile.
Fred Chyre returned the smile when he recognized who had spoken his name. While Fred managed to project the temperament of a grizzly bear, Iris had learned the man was mostly a teddy bear on the inside. More than once she had witnessed his "softer" side as he had comforted various crime victims over the years. More than once she had also heard stories of how he had scared the hell out of a young would-be delinquent and kept them on the right side of the law. "Iris."
"Can you share any details?"
"Don't know any."
"Not even how it started?"
A smirk appeared. "A spark."
"Ha, ha."
Fred chuckled. "Sorry, Iris, I really don't have any information. I was told to keep an eye on the crowd and that's what I'm doing. You'll just have to wait like everyone else."
Trying to woo another officer into giving her a tidbit would be pointless. She knew Fred well enough that he would have shared any information if he had had it. "So, anything else happening in the department that I should know about?"
He grinned and started to speak. Whatever Fred had been going to say, which knowing Fred would have been a lot of BS, was lost in the ensuing events. The events themselves occurred quickly. One second she was standing, the next second she found herself sandwiched between the pavement and Fred's body. His eyes gazed at her with concern. His mouth was moving, but she couldn't hear him over the ringing in her ears. Her mind raced to process what had happened. Fred had been about to answer her, there had been a loud explosion, and Fred had pushed her to the ground, using his body to protect her. He helped her to her feet. A cut marred his forehead. It was bleeding profusely. "You're hurt."
Fred touched his forehead and looked at the blood on his fingertips. He wiped his hand on his pants leg. "Are you okay?"
The ringing had lessened slightly. This time she heard his words. "Yes." Her body ached and she knew she'd be bruised in the morning. Fred hadn't been gentle when he had shoved her to the ground. Dust slowly settled to the ground. Her clothes were dirty, her skin felt grimy.
"I realize telling you to go home is pointless, but stay out of trouble," he directed before leaving her to help others. Iris allowed herself to take in the scene. The confusion and fear were almost palatable. The explosion had thrown debris into the area where the onlookers had watched and waited. Thankfully, since the fire was in the warehouse district, the number of rubberneckers was few. It explained why only a couple individuals lay on the ground, police officers motioning for paramedics. Everyone else seemed a bit dazed like herself. Her eyes slowly moved toward the buildings. Whatever progress the firefighters had made was gone. The fire seemed to have been renewed. Worse, it looked as if several fire trucks had been damaged and firefighters injured.
One question dominated her thoughts. Where's the Flash? The Flash – Barry – had never limited himself to just supervillain related activities. He had never hesitated to help wherever help was needed. Many of the other heroes were the same way. Still, while he had never said anything during their interview, she knew there was a very fine line the heroes walked. That line wasn't just in their vigilante activities, ensuring they never killed someone. It was also how much they helped. The heroes couldn't do everything. They couldn't protect the public from everything. Bad things were still going to happen. Accidents were still going to happen. While most people seemed to understand and accept the argument, it was times like this one that put it all into doubt. If the Flash had been here, would the fire already be out? Would the explosion have occurred? Would any firefighters have been injured? Even she, the woman who had written the article that had documented the good the Flash had caused over the past five years, was now questioning where he was. Worse, now she knew who the man was behind the mask…
As if in response to her thoughts, Iris noticed the flames on one of the warehouses suddenly disappeared. It could not have happened naturally nor could it have been the result of the firefighters' efforts. It had happened too quickly.
"Looks like our speedy friend is here," a voice commented dryly. Iris glanced over her shoulder to see that Fred had returned. She only nodded as another one of the adjacent warehouse fires disappeared, leaving only the original fire remaining. The Flash paused by the fire chief. Judging by his arm gestures, the chief was explaining the situation to the Flash.
To her growing anxiety, she watched as the Flash – as Barry – disappeared into the burning warehouse. Seconds later, he emerged carrying a firefighter. He gently laid the firefighter on a waiting gurney and immediately disappeared into the flames again. He repeated the trip two more times, each time emerging with an injured firefighter. On the fourth trip, another explosion occurred. As before, Fred again quickly moved to protect Iris with his body. It wasn't as severe as the first explosion, but it was still bad. Another fireball rose into the sky. Iris stared at the entrance in which the Flash – Barry – had disappeared, silently willing – praying – for him to appear. The seconds ticked by. Each second felt like an eternity. It seemed as if everyone else were holding their breath as well.
Nearly a minute passed before the Flash emerged with another firefighter. He was moving slower than normal. Two paramedics helped him place the firefighter on a waiting gurney. One of the paramedics moved to assist the Flash, but he waved them away.
Iris watched, feeling a mixture of helplessness and fear wash over her. She wanted to rush up to him and hold him, but she couldn't. To the world it would appear as if Iris West were hugging the Flash, when in reality she would be hugging Barry. A subtle but crucial difference. Neither she nor Barry needed the rumors or innuendos that would start if she did such a thing. Likewise, she knew Barry would worry that she would suddenly be identified as someone close to the Flash.
As he stood near the paramedics, his usual energy seemed to be gone. It was easy to see he was hurt. His costume was ripped in several spots. Other areas were blackened from smoke. He seemed to favor his right ribs. When the fire chief approached him, he turned and Iris gasped. Most of the costume covering his back was burned away. Even from a distance, his skin looked burned. More than ever she wanted to race to his side.
"So, our hero can bleed," a voice commented.
Iris turned to see a man she didn't recognize standing next to her. "Excuse me?"
"Our hero. He can bleed. Guess that proves he's human after all."
"I didn't realize there were any doubts," Iris replied, failing to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
The man shrugged. "He can run past the speed of sound. What human can do that?"
"You thought he was an alien?"
"Considering how many of them seem to be around, why not?"
While she couldn't argue about the increasing frequency of aliens being sighted or using Earth as their battle ground, it was preposterous to think that the Flash was an alien. Iris shook her head, her gaze returning to Barry. "Have you or anyone you know had any interaction with the Flash?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Just humor me."
The man sighed loudly. "No. What about you?"
"I have."
The man's interest seemed piqued. "How?"
"I interviewed him." The man frowned. Iris felt a small spark of satisfaction. She held out of her hand. "Iris West, Central City Citizen." The man's frown deepened. Iris forced herself to be patient. "And you are?"
"Dr. Malcolm Thawne." He didn't shake her proffered hand.
Iris let her hand drop and forced her face to remain impassive. She didn't want Dr. Thawne to realize she knew who he was. To her surprise, he looked a bit as she had pictured him – aristocratic and smug. Still, putting everything into context, his response surprised her. For a man who was obsessed about any related to the Flash, it seemed odd that he would question whether the Flash were human. Then again, according to Wally, the man was interested in studying the Flash's abilities. He'd been denied direct access to the Flash. Perhaps to appease his own ego, he had taken that denial and developed a story that the Flash didn't want to participate because he wasn't human. "So, why did you think he's an alien?"
"I never said that. You did. I just admitted it as a possibility."
She didn't want Wally's comments to taint her view of the man. She wanted to keep an open mind, but she realized it was going to be extremely difficult. "I stand corrected."
"Hopefully your articles are written with more focus on the truth than your speaking skills. Even though it does explain your Flash interview."
Correction, impossible. It took all of her inner strength not to punch the man. With her luck, he'd claim assault and she'd be arrested. Wally would understand and laugh like hell, but Barry definitely wouldn't understand. "I thought the Flash interview went well. You obviously don't. What didn't you like about it?"
"The lack of details."
"The Flash has a right to privacy."
"So, you admit there are things you didn't publish."
"I never said that. You did." He recognized his own words being thrown back at him. His displeasure was readily apparent. "Why do you care?"
"I'm the world's foremost Flash researcher."
This man's ego definitely needed no inflating. "Really. I've never heard of you. I'm guessing if I ask the average person on the street, they'll never have heard of you either."
Dr. Thawne scowled. "That's because my research is still in the investigative stage."
"And what does the Flash think about this research?" The man's scowl deepened and he remained silent. Iris mentally patted herself on the back. "He does know about your research, doesn't he?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"The research is classified."
"But you're researching the Flash. Surely, he would – or should – have access to the information, classified or not."
"And you're a reporter. Why would I tell you? What do I get in exchange?"
Interesting turn of events. Then again, maybe not. His ego needed feeding. An article would do just that. "Media access."
"Is that all you gave the Flash? Media access? Or did you give him something else as well?"
"Excuse me?"
"What did you give the Flash in return for his interview?" The man seemed to be leering at her.
Iris glared at him with full understanding of his innuendo. It wasn't the first time she had heard that she had had sex with the Flash in payment for the one-on-one interview. Technically, she had had sex with the Flash. Technically, the sex had occurred after the interview. But she hadn't known Barry was the Flash at the time. Besides none it really mattered. Worse, did this man actually think she would sleep with him for an interview? If she weren't so angry, she would have laughed at the thought. "Your insinuation that I slept with the Flash is disgusting and ludicrous. Worst, it violates my ethics and morals, something I'm guessing you have troubles with."
The man visibly bristled. Iris felt a surge of satisfaction. Yet, despite her ever increasing dislike of this man, her reporter instinct demanded she talk to him. The scene of a fire, though, was not the ideal situation. She should be focused on the fire, not some other potential story. "Since you're the world's foremost researcher on the Flash-" Iris mentally patted herself on the back for keeping the sarcasm out of her voice "-would you be interested in sharing some of your thoughts with the public? You could comment on the Flash's interview, what he said, give your insights. Does something like that interest you, Dr. Thawne?" She purposefully used his title, noticing he seemed to stand a little taller.
"It's a tempting offer. I need to think about it."
Iris dug in her purse and handed him her business card. "I'll contact you in a couple days. If you have any questions in the meantime, give me a call." Dr. Thawne pocketed the card.
In the background, Iris noticed the fire chief appeared ready to speak to the media based on the sudden group of reporters nearby. It provided the perfect excuse to leave. As she joined the other reporters, her eyes scanned the scene for any hint of the Flash. There were none. While he usually hung around afterwards, he didn't always and this was definitely one of those latter occasions. Given the burns on his back, it wasn't surprising.
Iris scribbled notes as the chief discussed the fire. The cause of the fire was under investigation. Three warehouses had been destroyed. One firefighter had been killed, ten others injured. The chief noted that if it had not been for the Flash's efforts, more firefighters would have died. He also noted that the first explosion had caused minor injuries among the bystanders, as well as damaging numerous fire and police vehicles with debris. When the fire chief stopped speaking, the reporters hit him with a barrage of questions. Iris remained silent. Her editor would have been very disappointed to learn she didn't ask any questions. In her view, there was a time and place for everything and this definitely was not one of those times to be aggressive. Besides, anything she might have asked was being asked by other reporters. If she remained respectful, there was a chance the fire chief would treat her the same if a follow-up interview was required.
As she walked back to her car, her eyes scanned the crowd. Dr. Thawne had disappeared. Thinking about it, it was rather strange the man had been at the scene. What would a researcher be doing in this part of town? His answer of seeing the Flash seemed lame. The man was up to something, but what? She pushed the question from her mind. She would focus on it later.
Digging through her purse, she removed her cell phone. Her worry about Barry remained high. Why, on the day she had figured out that her boyfriend was the Flash, did she also have to witness the Flash being hurt? She dialed his number. He answered on the third ring. "Hey, handsome, can I interest you in catching a cup of coffee and dessert?"
"That sounds tempting, but I can't. Big case. I'll have to take a rain check."
How convenient. It was impossible to know whether he was avoiding her or telling the truth. Both options were plausible. Still, she wasn't ready to give up. "Maybe I could swing by the station with something?"
"Not tonight. It's busy."
"Barry, you have to eat."
"I know and I will. Listen, if I get done before midnight, should I stop by your apartment?"
Iris bit back a sigh. It was the best she was going to get. "That sounds good."
"Good. Look, I got to go. Love you."
"Love you, too." Iris hung up. She hated herself for driving past his house to verify he truly was at work. She trusted him. She truly did, but if he had been injured, would he want her to see him? It would require him to lie and Barry was terrible at it. His house was dark. She should have been happy at the sight. It proved he was at work…or that he was home but hadn't turned on the lights. She drove off before she lost all common sense and trust in him and rang the doorbell. The apartment was quiet when she returned home. No Wally to talk to. She'd have to brood and worry on her own.
