Mac and Cheese

"Barry, you know I'm glad you came here, right?" Iris is sitting on the floor of her disorganized bedroom opposite her surrogate brother, with their English notes in front of them on the floor. Barry shrugs. He shrugs a lot these days, and Iris doesn't know what to do. It's been half a year since he came to the West house, and things are still so tense it's almost unbearable.

The eleven-year-old girl takes a deep breath. "What I mean is, I love you, Barry. You're my best friend, and I'm glad you're staying with us permanently." She's always been direct; it's a trait she will carry with her for the rest of her life.

Barry shuts his grammar book with a loud snap. He doesn't say anything; he never takes his anger out on Iris, but he gets up and takes his notes and goes into his own room, shutting the door quickly. She's pretty sure the only reason he doesn't slam it is that Joe has a rule against that.

Iris slides onto the floor and lies there, stares up at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling. It's weird how much you can love someone, even when they don't give anything back. That's something Barry has taught her without meaning to. Her love for Joe has always come from his love for her; her love for Barry started as a choice, but now it's as automatic as breathing, even though he's so closed into himself he won't let her in.

She loves the Barry for the things he was before the incident and for the things she hopes he'll be again. More than that, she loves the person he is now—the book-slamming ball of anger who yells at her father and runs away nearly every day. She loves him because he needs it.

Later that night, after macaroni and cheese, Barry knocks on her door. "Iris?"

"Come in."

He stands awkwardly in her doorway. "I—love you too." The words run together, but they're unmistakable. He's gone before she can respond, but she goes to sleep with a smile on her face.

There are few things in his life that Barry Allen can control. He can't get his father out of jail or bring his mother back to life, and when he yells at Joe, he feels guilty. But eating is something they can't make him do. Joe hasn't made a big issue of it, but he figures it's only a matter of time.

"You gotta eat, Son."

He expects another fight. The cop will finally come down on him and try to force a bowl of macaroni and cheese down his throat. He loves macaroni and cheese; it's just the principal of the thing.

But Joe West isn't as predictable as Barry Allen expects. He doesn't get mad, and he doesn't yell. He says he gets it, and when Barry is about to yell back that there's no way Joe could ever understand, he makes it dead obvious that he does understand.

"That is why I'm here."

Barry hasn't thought of it like that. It's always been about him being at the Wests', like an unwanted parasite. He's never considered that it might be true that Joe wants to be there for him just as much as he needs somewhere to belong.

Joe's hand, resting lightly on top of his, makes the dam break.

Joe's authority has always been like that—light when he expects heavy and gentle when he expects unyielding. For the first time, Barry rushes into the strong, safe arms that will become his lifeline.

"Macaroni and cheese," Joe says, putting a bowl in front of his hungry housemate. "It's not fancy, but Iris says it's still your favorite."

Barry laughs. "Thanks, Joe."

The cop has a moment of deja vu as he sits down at the table with his own bowl of pasta. "Son, you remember the first time you ever ate mac and cheese at this house?"

"Yup," says Barry, between mouthfuls. "I was pretty impossible. Sometimes I wonder why you put up with me."

Joe sits back in his chair. "Is that what you think? Truth is, I had a hurting kid in my house, and all he wanted to do was run away from me. I was trying to find a way to get through to you, Bear, but in the end, you came to me yourself. You got up, and I thought you were about to run away again, but you ran toward me instead. One of the best nights of my life."

Barry smiles, but his eyes are wet. "That's when I realized it was better to run to you than toward the past. Glad I made the right decision."

"Are you two having some kind of a moment?" Joe looks up as Iris comes in the front door and stands in front of them, staring at their teary eyes and half-eaten dinners.

Her father laughs. "There's more mac and cheese in the kitchen." She stops to plant a kiss on his cheek and to give Barry a hug from behind.

"We've always got you, Bear," Joe says, "and we always will."

A/N: How great was the season opener?! I don't really care for how the Henry Allen plot was handled, but otherwise, A+ for the writing and acting. A classic Flash combination of action and touching moments that set the stage for an awesome rest of the season.