A/N: A lot of this chap sticks to the movie pretty closely, as far as main events go.

*Many thanks to sendtherain for beta'ing.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

...

Part 1 -

An hour earlier…

Far, far away in the heavenly dimension unknown to humans before death, an excited HR Wells squirmed in his seat, ready to prepare for his newest assignment.

"Okay, so what are we watching? A movie?"

"Of sorts," interrupted the ornery angel. "You want to know about a man's life before you go to save him from the end of it, don't you?"

"Well, yeah, I suppose so," HR said, adjusting his top hat.

The other angel rolled his eyes, his wings fluffing in slight irritation.

Luckily, there was a third angel; a sweet, compassionate, patient angel that had been among the few humans to actually become an angel after dying. And she had a particular interest in this struggling human down on earth.

"Nora," angel two whined, but she waved him off.

"Watch closely now, HR. You cannot understand a man fully until you see the moments in his life that shaped who he became."

HR nodded dutifully.

"Before we begin, may I say you look absolutely shimmering today, Ms. Nora?"

She smiled and turned him towards the screen.

"The first memory we're going to see is of that when Barry Allen was quite young. Just 10, I believe."

HR squinted at the screen.

"And what is he doing?"

The ornery angel placed glasses over HR's eyes.

"Can you see now?" he snarled, and Nora shot him a glare.

HR was oblivious to the tension.

"Oh, yes, quite clearly, thank you!" He paused and took in the scene before them all. "Why…is that Barry?"

"It is," Nora confirmed. "He and his friends, Ralph, Cisco, Oliver, and Julian are going sledding down to the frozen over pond in Barry's backyard."

"Wait…now who's that? The girl in the back."

Nora smiled. "You'll learn more about her later. She's very important."

…

The winter day was cold and crisp, but the boys were warm in their hats, coats, and gloves, and eager for a day of fun outside of school. One by one they jumped onto a sled and made their way down the slight declining hill to the frozen pond, each one trying to go faster and get closer to the hole in the ice without actually going down in it. They cheered each other on, laughing and smiling, taking turn after turn, when suddenly a girl stepped up at the top of the hill.

The boy's eyes went wide.

"Hey, who invited the girl?"

"Yeah, what gives?"

"Go home!"

Tears welled up in the younger girl's eyes, but she stood her ground, refusing to walk away just because they told her to.

Barry pushed past them, annoyed, but not for the same reason they were.

"Stop it, guys! No one says that about my baby sister!"

"Oh!" HR exclaimed, making the memory pause. "He has a sister?"

"Well –"

"She's not his sister," the ornery angel answered at the same time.

"She's not?" HR asked, confused.

Nora's gentle voice lulled the tension away.

"Her name is Jesse Wells."

HR gasped. "Is she my sister? Or, my…" he lowered his voice. "Do I have a daughter?"

"No." The ornery angel smacked his head. "Jesse is the daughter of Harrison and Tess Wells. They died in a car accident when she was only two years old, so the Allen family, being good friends of the couple, took her in. For Barry, she's his sister, and no one ever says otherwise."

"I see…"

"Keep watching, gentlemen," Nora said, and the memory resumed.

"Come on, Barry," Ralph complained. "She's wearing a skirt. It'll fly right up when she tries to come down!" The other boys laughed.

Jesse stomped at the top of the hills.

"I'm wearing leggings also!"

"There, you see. She's wearing leggings," Barry said. "Come on down, Jess! I'll cheer for you, even if no one else does!" He glared at them all, and they looked away, ashamed.

"Jes-se, Jes-se, Jes-se!" Barry cheered, and Jesse grinned, climbing onto her little sled. Soon the other boys had joined in and were whistling and hollering as she came down the hill at full speed, laughing all the way.

That was, of course, until she went full speed past all of them and tipped into the hole in the ice on the far side of the little pond.

She screamed.

"Barry!" she cried, and he was over there in seconds, the rest of the boys hot on his tail. He dove in without thinking, and the others formed a human chain to pull them both out.

Jesse was crying and clutching at Barry when they got out. She held him as close as she could.

"Are you all right? Are you all right?" he asked her frantically.

She nodded. "I'm okay, Barry," she said and snuggled close.

"You see, this is why girls don't do boy things," Ralph said, high and mighty and shaking his head.

To his great surprise though, everyone there turned and glared at him.

"Shut up, Ralph," Cisco said, and to everyone's great relief, he did. Even as his mouth was hanging open.

The memory paused again.

"That was a close one," HR declared.

"Yes, it was," Nora mused. "And little Barry didn't come out of it completely unscathed."

"What?" HR's eyes widened.

The ornery angel seemed to have calmed down a bit and answered him.

"He developed an infection in his left ear from having dived into those icy waters and lost his hearing in it."

"Oh, no!"

"It had some advantages," Nora says, knowing the memory that was coming next.

The ornery angel rolled his eyes again, though not so severe.

"You're such a romantic, Nora."

She shrugged, and HR gasped.

"Is this about the other girl in the memory? The one way up on the far hill that never joined the boys or Jesse sledding?"

"It is indeed." Nora smiled.

"What's her name?" he asked, excitedly.

"Iris," she said warmly. "Iris Ann West."

"A beautiful name," HR marveled.

Nora nodded in agreement.

"She loved my sweet boy from the moment she laid eyes on him at five years old. It is her prayers that were heard the loudest."

"Wait…your –?"

"Yes." Nora felt a tear well up in her eye. "Barry Allen is my son."

…

The next memory began to play.

In the scene was a sweet-looking girl sitting on a stool in what appeared to be an ice cream shop.

Well, at least part of it was. Another section was a shoe parlor and candy shop. And in the very back was a makeshift lab for a delivery pharmacy. Mr. Singh was a man of many talents.

Iris was sitting all by her lonesome, her dark curls bouncing whenever she turned her head. Her warm, brown eyes appeared piercingly beautiful to anyone who looked at her, especially when she wore lighter colors like the yellow, lace dress she was wearing today. Her shiny white shoes hardly had a scratch on them.

Moments later, a 13-year-old Barry Allen skipped into the shop. He called into the back to inform his boss about his arrival, and then slid an apron over his head.

Before he was fully ready to serve any customers though, in walked Linda Park. Strictly speaking, she wasn't any prettier than Iris, sitting there alone on her stool, waiting for Barry Allen to make his appearance so she could be near him. But she had confidence, and that alone drew the boys to her the older she got. She didn't have the slightest idea what she wanted in life, but she liked the attention she got, and so sought it without looking desperate and achieved it every time. It was always a good kind of attention.

"Hey, Barry," she cooed, popping up onto a stool beside Iris'.

"Huh?" He turned to look at her where he stood in the doorway between the back room and the store area. "Oh, hi, Linda. Here for some ice cream?"

"What else could I be here for?" she asked, setting her chin in her hand and smiling prettily.

He shrugged. "Well, I don't know. Iris was here when I walked in the door."

He walked away to find the ice cream scoop and Linda's gaze followed his movements.

"I like him," she confided to Iris.

Iris would've tensed up, but it was hardly the first time Linda had made her affections known, and not just about Barry either.

"You like every boy," she said, crossing one knee over the other.

Linda turned to look at her over her shoulder.

"What's wrong with that?"

Iris kept her comments to herself, but she struggled hiding a smile when after Barry had gotten her the ice cream she ordered, he told her bye right away, just as she'd opened her mouth to flirt some more. Surprised and irritated, she frowned, jumped down and grabbed her ice cream before strutting out the door.

Now alone with Barry, Iris felt unspeakably nervous.

"Have you decided what you want?" Barry asked, folding his arms on the countertop and looking her in the eye, completely unaware of how fast her heart was racing.

"I…uh…" She cleared her throat.

"How about chocolate chip cookie dough with sprinkles? That's my favorite right now."

He was practically salivating as he said it, probably planning to buy some for himself as soon as his shift was over. But Iris – and she'd come to regret this later – did not immediately cater to Barry's suggestion in order to keep his attention.

She tucked her feet into the rings on the stool and leaned over to see the flavors.

"What about that green one?" She pointed to the far left. "I haven't tried that one yet."

"Mint chip?" he asked, and she nodded, her eyes lighting up.

"Yeah, I guess that one's all right too," he allowed, and hurried to give her the scoop. "Better than plain old vanilla, anyway."

She paid for her dessert and started to eat it in front of him, hoping beyond all hope that maybe he'd keep talking to her.

"You know, one day I'm gonna get out of this place."

Her heart leapt into her throat.

"Yeah? Where will you go?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere!" He pulled out some papers from a cubby hole beneath the counter. "I'm an honorary member of the National Geographic Society, you know. I've got books and magazines and posters. I want to see the world! And then I want to design it."

"Design it?" She frowned, though she was already incredibly thrilled he was still talking to her.

"Yeah, like an archi… archi…" He frowned, unsure of the word now.

"Architect?" she offered, and this time his eyes lit up.

"Yes, that's it! I'm going to design bridges and skyscrapers a thousand stories high…."

"A thousand?" Her eyes widened.

"Well, maybe not that many," he allowed. "But I still want to see everything. I want to be a part of something big, Iris. Really big. I want my life to matter. And it's not going to if I stay here in Central Hills."

Barry looked down and saw a coin on the floor.

"Oh, shoot, I forgot to give you all your change."

He started to bend down to reach for it, and Iris rose up in her seat. Testing, she directed her face towards what she hoped was his deaf ear.

"Is this your bad ear?" she asked softly, and when he made no reply, she assumed it was. Swallowing hard, she made her vow, too chicken to say it so he could hear. "I love you, Barry Allen. I'll love you till the day I die."

"Ah, here you go," he said, proudly handing her the penny before she could sit herself back down again. Their faces were inches apart, and he found himself briefly lost for words. "What are you doing way over here, Iris?" he asked – and was that blush in his cheeks?

"I…um…wanted to…uh…"

"See if I was telling the truth?" he asked, feeling slightly annoyed.

She sat back down. "I just thought you gave me all my change is all."

"Oh."

She closed her fingers over the penny now in her hand.

"I'm sure you're right, though. Thank you, Barry."

He nodded and took a step back, still feeling awfully confused but not wanting to show it.

"You're welcome."

…

After Iris left, Barry heard what he thought was soft sniffling nearby. He turned around to follow the sound and found it was coming from Mr. Singh in the backroom. He stood there amongst capsules, trying to fill them and crying.

Barry turned away, not wanting to get caught by the man who was so prone to yelling at him for obscure reasons. He licked his lips and tried to think of a reason why probably the least emotional man he'd ever met had been brought to tears.

Scanning the room, he caught sight of a letter. As inconspicuously as he could, he grabbed hold of it and moved so he was out of sight from the back room. It was addressed to Mr. Singh, as he thought it would be, and it detailed that his son had been killed in combat overseas. Barry didn't even know there was a war going on, but he suddenly understood how a man even as stoic as Mr. Singh could be brought to tears.

Taking a deep breath, he set the letter back where he'd found it and cautiously entered the back room.

"Mr. Singh?"

He didn't answer him, but he made a valiant effort to stop sniffling.

"Mr. Singh, sir, I…I saw the letter."

He stilled and turned to look at him.

"I'm so sorry, sir…about your son."

Mr. Singh looked about to yell at him, but at the last second stopped himself. Instead he turned to finish filling his capsules with what Barry alarmingly saw was poison! His mouth fell open.

"Sir!"

"Here." He shoved the bottle of capsules at him. "Take these to Mrs. Ramon. She's waiting for them."

He could barely form a coherent thought.

"Sir, I know you're sad, but-"

"I said, GO!"

Barry scrambled out of there so fast he didn't even hear the curse delivered from his boss.

.

Once outside and a few blocks away, Barry tried to sort out the situation in his head. He couldn't imagine Mr. Singh deliberately trying to poison Mrs. Ramon as a way to channel his grief. He just couldn't. Mr. Singh was a good, decent man, even if he was sometimes harsh with him. Barry refused to believe he'd intentionally set out to hurt someone like that. The only alternative then was that it had been a mistake, that he'd confused the medicine with the poison amidst his sniffling and hadn't thought twice when handing the capsules over to Barry.

It was a tricky spot to be in. There was no question but that he couldn't give the pills to Mrs. Ramon. She might die! And it would be all his fault, because he knew before it happened. But Mr. Singh was in no mind to listen to his plea that he was in the wrong.

There was only one person that could help him out at a time like this and give him really sound advice.

The owner of Allen Brothers' Building and Loan, his father, Henry Allen.

Unfortunately for him, as soon as he arrived at the business, he was informed by his uncle, who held a smaller stake in the business, that his father was a very important meeting with Mr. Devoe.

Barry shuddered at the name.

Mr. Devoe was the meanest – and richest – man in town. He was cruel and heartless and bitter because Allen Brothers' Building and Loan was the sole place in all of Central Hills that he hadn't been able to get his hands on, and so was unable to snatch the customers away from.

Barry didn't know what the meeting was about, but he was almost certain Mr. Devoe was badgering his father about some thing or another, and he wouldn't stand for it. As soon as the coast was clear, he snuck into his office – all thought of asking for advice regarding Mr. Singh and the poisoned capsules gone from his mind – and promptly started yelling at Mr. Devoe before he could keep tearing into Henry Allen.

His father was forced to escort him out of his office, of course, promising to speak with him later. Not in a punishing sort of way, because he likely sensed Barry had come to speak with him for some reason or other, but in a gentle I'm-busy-right-now sort of way. It told Barry all he needed to know about how to handle his situation that had returned to the forefront of his mind.

.

It was quite a way from his father to his summer job, so Barry prepared himself for a berating of his own from Mr. Singh. He could only hope that in the end he would accept his explanation kindly, and that all would be well as soon as realized the error of his ways.

But he knew it wouldn't go easily when he heard the tail end of a phone call as he arrived. One in which Mrs. Ramon was complaining about not getting her pills yet. Mr. Singh coolly said they would be delivered soon and were surely on route, but his gaze shifted to deadly when he caught Barry's eyes, and Barry feared the worst.

The phone hit its base with a slam.

"Why doesn't Mrs. Ramon have her pills?" he demanded. "I sent you away with them an hour ago!"

"Please, Mr. Singh, sir, I can explain."

"What is there to explain?" He growled, walking towards him. "You deliberately disobeyed me." He smacked the side of his face.

"Please don't do that, sir!" Barry cried. "That's my sore ear!"

"Your sore- Why did you do it?" He smacked it again, causing Barry to dissolve into sniffles of his own. This was worse than he'd expected.

"You put poison in!" he protested. "Not medicine, poison! I couldn't give it to her. I just couldn't!"

Mr. Singh stopped. He obviously didn't want to believe this adolescent, who he found so unnerving much of the time, but something about the tone of his voice told him he was maybe telling the truth.

He snatched the pill bottle out of his hands and split a capsule open. He took a whiff of the inside and all color drained from his face.

"I know you're sad, Mr. Singh, sir. It's okay to be sad, but please don't-" Mr. Singh straightened and came towards him again. "Please don't hit me again, sir! Please! I won't tell a soul. I know it was an accident! You didn't mean to hurt poor Mrs. Ramon."

"Oh, Barry." He fell down onto his knees and hugged his assistant closely. "Barry, I'm so sorry. So sorry."

"It's okay, Mr. Singh, sir. I won't tell a soul." He hugged him back, his arms wrapped tight around his neck.

The memory paused.

"And did he ever tell?" HR asked, looking up at Nora inquisitively.

"He never did," she said, then smiled wistfully. "My Barry never told a soul."