Note: I kind of went on a writing roll with this. Thanks to KyannaLashae and Dreamitdoit for your consistent reviews. Sorry, this chapter is going to be toughy, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Welcome Bon-Bon Emerson, I hope your questions will be answered and yes I'm all for Westallen.
Whack!
"Ouch!" Iris yelled out, clutching her hand to her chest and hoping she hadn't disturbed her neighbours. Small beads of red started to push through the torn skin of her finger. She held her finger as it started to throb, already darkening her skin as a bruise began to form.
"This is what happens when you're not concentrating, Iris," she muttered to herself.
She was in her new kitchen tenderising some steak when she hit her finger instead. Iris sighed and looked around at her apartment. She had brought no furniture of her own and the first night she had slept on a pile of blankets up in the loft. It hadn't been the best sleep she had, but she was content.
The apartment had provided a small fridge and a table with two chairs, which she used for her meals. To her surprise and bewilderment, there was also a punching bag that was hanging from the steel framed ceiling in the corner of the room. She had asked her landlady, Joanne, why? She had just shrugged. Apparently, the owner of the apartment had left it there when they moved out, for which she was forever thankful. She had bought some inexpensive boxing gloves and using the skills her father once taught her, took out her anger on the bag.
Deciding that she no longer wanted steak for dinner, she covered it and put the overly flattened steak in the fridge. Instead, she had looked through her limited supply of crockery and pulled out a bowl. Pouring in some cereal and milk, she took a seat at her little table.
She slowly chewed, looking at the empty seat across from her and a flash of sadness hit her, which she quickly buried. It was Tuesday night, the night she was supposed to go home and have dinner with her dad and Barry. Instead, she was alone in her apartment eating cereal for dinner. Not the best plan she had come up with, but one she was sticking to.
Iris gently rubbed her temple to ease the small headache that had been gradually building since she had found out the news. She sighed remembering how Barry had come into her work at lunchtime.
She had been looking outside when she saw him. Quickly getting up from her desk, she made a beeline to the female toilets, hoping Barry didn't see her. He didn't. But after five minutes waiting and staring at her reflection she realised how cowardly she looked. Grimacing, she told herself that she couldn't avoid him forever. So taking a peek out the door she saw Barry leaning against her desk, looking around pensively. Straightening her spine, Iris took a shuddering breath and slowly made her way to her desk. Barry jumped up and ran a nervous hand through his hair, fidgeting and struggling to make eye contact.
"Iris –"
"Why are you here Barry? I thought you got the hint that I really don't want to talk to you."
Barry swallowed. "I - I heard you moved."
"Oh, I guess some things don't stay a secret." Iris crossed her arms. "So, now you know where I live."
"Actually, Eddie didn't say…"
Iris felt a little better about that and couldn't help the wry smile that appeared on her face. "Well, I guess secrets go both ways as well."
Barry didn't seem amused. "Iris, please."
Sighing and not wanting to make a scene, Iris headed to the entrance and stepped out. Barry wasn't far behind.
"I know you want to know. Maybe I'll tell you, maybe I won't, but right now every time I look at you, I just feel so unbelievably angry. It's exhausting and I wish I didn't feel this all the time. But I do. So, no. You're just going to have to deal."
"I understand that you're angry. I'm sorry that I'm the cause of it. But I want you to be safe."
Iris rolled her eyes. "And I am." With that she turned on her heel, pushing through the door, casting a furtive glance back. "Bye Barry."
Shaking her head, Iris looked down at her soggy cereal; no longer hungry. She dumped the rest in the sink. Pulling out her phone, she stared at Barry's number. Swallowing as she realised that she couldn't isolate herself forever and maybe noting that she was being slightly immature, only slightly, she typed out a text with her address. Pausing, she added: Don't even think about coming over unannounced! And before she could overthink it, she pressed send.
A second later. Okay.
Content, she picked up her boxing gloves and went to work. Each time she hit the bag, the pressure she felt in her chest slowly released until she was breathing heavily and the sweat poured into her eyes, forcing her to stop. Somehow, she would get through this.
Another week passed in which Barry respected her wishes. She was keeping herself busy at work, trying to delay coming back to her empty apartment. One positive she noted was that she now no longer felt like she was in perpetual anger mode, only feeling its presence when she thought of Barry and her father. Granted it was still quite a lot, considering in the silence, that's where her mind always went. But, she felt that it was no longer controlling her. Although, that could be because she had not seen Barry and her dad since Barry had come into her work. They still sent texts and tried calling and she still ignored them.
The thing that she could not shake was that she felt like she had lost something, something pivotal to her. Trust. She no longer saw the world in bright shades, full of possibilities. Everything seemed dull and grey.
Sometimes she thought of Eddie, but that only brought sadness. She knew in her heart that that door was forever closed. Things were changing for her.
By the end of that week, Iris started questioning herself, wondering how she had missed the obvious signs. If only. If only. If only she had pushed Barry to tell her. If only she had joined the dots much quicker and not ignored the similarities between the Flash and Barry. If only. She felt completely useless and looked hard at herself, wondering if she could really be an investigative reporter when she couldn't even tell her best friend was the Flash. It was after these thoughts that her anger would be stoked again, masking her pain and she would go have an intense session with the punching bag.
It was reaching the third week of not talking to them. A message had been posted on her blog about a sighting of the Flash. The anger had leapt up and engulfed her. She was in the middle of a punching session, the sweat was pouring into her eyes, and her muscles ached. Her knee buckled and she fell to the ground. Suddenly, all the pain that she had buried deep and masked with her anger came pouring out. She wasn't prepared. The tears streamed down her face and she choked on her sobs.
All this time she had masked her pain and fear. The fear that maybe things would never be the same again, but more significantly, maybe she had lost that status of being Barry's best friend, that he didn't trust her. He had lied to her about something that was life changing, something that before the coma he would of ran straight to her with the news. They would have worked through it together, discovering what he could do. But instead, he had distanced himself and made her question what she had done wrong. They once were inseparable, but after the coma and his confession, they became distant. Iris could hardly keep up, but now it hit her like a steam train and the tears fell where she lay.
The rest of that week, a heavy depression fell on her, she struggled to focus at work and she was exhausted. The anger she felt could not sustain her anymore and she was tired of feeling alone.
Realising that it had been a month, she decided it was time. After work, instead of going to home, she went to her dad's place. She stood outside the door, hesitating before slowly lifting her hand and knocking on the door.
A moment passed. She thought nobody would answer and prepared to leave.
Suddenly the door swung open. She looked up, seeing her father standing there. He looked the same, except his eyes. They were filled with a deep sense of sadness and stress. Those eyes widened when he saw her.
"Iris," he whispered.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Can I come in?"
He instantly opened the door wider, ushering her inside.
His voice trembled with his next words. "I'm sorry Iris. It was wrong of me to force Barry not to tell you. All the blame should be on me."
Iris held up her hand to stall his words. "No dad, you were both wrong in not telling me. Sure, Barry listens to you, but it is his secret to tell and he chose not to tell it to me. You know," Iris paused as she looked at her dad. "I didn't intend to come here, but I needed to. For me. You hurt me."
Joe looked down, nodding. "I know. I'm sorry for that, but you're my baby girl. You're all I have left. I just want to protect you."
Iris stepped closer. "Dad. I'm a big girl. I don't need to be coddled. And you need to start treating me like an adult. I make my own decisions and you just have to accept that."
Nodding again, Joe breathed in deeply. "I know that now Iris, but to me you'll always be my little girl no matter how old you are. I will make an effort to treat you like the adult you are."
"That's all I ask."
The front door suddenly opened and Barry entered. Iris watched as he realised she was there. He froze, dropping the bag he held in his hand and stared at her.
"Iris."
Note: so, I just want to say that Iris's investigation of Star Labs is not in the least over. However, it has been stalled because she's been dealing with emotions as you've probably realised ;). What is something that you hope to see? Thanks so much for reading. x
