Notes: For Flufftober Oct. 2 Prompt - Sneaking out together
Sunrise
Iris doesn't really remember much about her mother. So the memory of her doesn't really hit Iris all that often. The feeling of having missed out on something big and important hits her sometimes, but there's not a lot out there that really triggers memories of what she's lost. In fact, Iris can't even remember when her mother passed away, just that she did and her dad was so sad for so very long.
Kind of like Barry is now. And Iris doesn't really know how to help.
Though, obviously, she's going to try anyway.
Today was the first anniversary of Nora Allen's death, but Barry has been depressed pretty much the whole month. Iris had been at a total loss as to what to do to help him get just the slightest bit of his smile back. Her failed attempt to bake him a birthday cake four days earlier had somehow helped, for a little while. Barry's helpless giggles over the burnt, misshapen thing that came out of the oven had been hidden behind his hands as he'd tried not to offend Iris, who'd worked very hard on that cake and unwittingly added a zero too many to the oven timer after sliding the cake pan inside.
Her dad had dumped the whole thing - pan and all - into the trash once it cooled. And then they went to the grocery store to pick up a pre-made replacement. While Barry wasn't a Power Rangers fan, he did like red a great deal, so they'd wound up with a Red Power Rangers themed cake that they'd yet to finish off entirely.
But despite perking back up on his birthday, Barry'd dropped right back down the day after.
As much as Iris hated whoever murdered Nora Allen for taking away Barry's mom and convincing everyone - including Iris' dad - that the nice Dr. Henry Allen had killed her, Iris loathed that person in the lightning for doing this to Barry. For taking what should have been a happy month - Barry's birthday month - and turning it into the month his mother died.
Today was a Sunday and Barry had spent most of it in bed, curled up in his blankets and pretending he wasn't crying whenever Iris or her dad poked their heads in. The closer it comes to night time, the worse Barry gets and it's clear Iris' dad is as lost as she is.
Barry hurts and so they all hurt with him.
But, eventually, Barry fakes sleep convincingly enough that her dad goes to bed. But Iris knows better and she's not surprised to hear the soft sound of sobbing through their shared wall a little while later. She does, however, finally get an idea that's probably terrible given that tomorrow is a Monday and there is school.
Still, Iris grabbed her telescope and a box of Kleenex, shoving them into a bag that looped easily around her arm. Then she opened her window and climbed out onto the roof. She carefully shimmied over to Barry's window and knocks. And then knocks again and again until Barry, red faced and tear stained from crying, pops the window open and stares at her blankly.
"Iris..."
"Come on. Grab that quilt out of your closet and then get out here, okay?" Iris gave him an impatient look. "Barry, hurry up."
That last bit did the trick. Barry didn't even seem to realize he was doing as told until he was back at the window, quilt awkwardly tucked under one arm. But he sighed and rolled his eyes - already sniffling less - and followed Iris onto the roof.
Now, Iris had done this a few times on her own. There was a part of the roof that was less slanted than the rest, ideal for star gazing. So Iris would drag a blanket and her little telescope up there and just... star gaze. She'd been doing it since before Barry came to live with her and it had been Iris' thing. For when she was missing her mother, but wasn't really sure if it was her mother she was actually missing or just... the idea of her. Since she barely remembered Francine West, after all.
This was the first time she'd taken Barry up there, though. It was also the first time she'd done it on a school night with the intention of staying up so late it became early.
School was going to be awful tomorrow, but it'd be worth it if, for just a little while, she could help Barry move behind the grief that was threatening to drown him.
So Iris led the way to the top of the roof and they spread out the blanket. It was cold and neither of them wanted to go back for jackets, so they ended up more wrapped up together than anything. But Iris was determined to share this, despite the lack of planning on her part. She pulled out the little telescope and handed it solemnly to Barry.
"Do you know why we're up here?"
"I am assuming it's got something to do with the telescope," Barry replied cautiously.
"I don't remember much about my mom. And I'm not sure that what I do remember isn't just... stuff I made up about her and repeated so much it became like a memory. 'Cause I was... I was really little when she died. But if I close my eyes and try to remember really hard, sometimes I'm certain she would tell me about the stars. The constellations and the myths about them. I don't... I don't remember specific stories or anything like that. Except maybe Cassiopeia and her unrivaled beauty." Iris hesitated and then continued. "So I've been learning about the stars in the sky and the constellations because it makes me feel like maybe it brings me a little closer to her, somehow. And when I've had a really bad day or I just miss her even though I don't know what it is about her I'm missing... I'd come out here at night and look for different things in the night's sky and... feel like maybe, somehow, she's out here with me too."
"Iris," Barry breathed out softly, snuggling closer. Iris wrapped an arm around his shoulders and rubbed his arm absently.
"I thought... I know it's hard for you right now, to think about your mom. And it's not fair you can't be with your dad. And I know it's been even harder for you, being around my dad when he doesn't... believe what you saw that night was real. But I thought, maybe if we came out here together, I could share my mom with you, for a little while. Until thinking about yours doesn't hurt quite so unbearably much anymore."
Barry let out a little sob and, well, this was what the Kleenex box was for. Iris had prepared for some things, after all. So Barry cried and sniffled and used up half the box before, finally, he was trying not to let on that he'd given himself the hiccups from crying so much even as he burrowed into Iris' hug for comfort.
"Will you..." Barry interrupted himself with a loud sniffle and then tried again. "Will you tell me about your mom? And the stars?"
So Iris did. She pointed to different stars - hard to see from the city with all the light pollution, but the brightest ones got through. Orion's belt, the big dipper and little dipper, and the Great Bear - which the big dipper was part of - that was only partially visible. Cassiopeia, Queen of Ethiopia and one of the most beautiful women to ever live... but vain too, which nearly doomed her kingdom and led to much suffering on the part of her daughter, Andromeda...
And while Barry's sniffles slowly came to an end, he fell nearly half asleep with Iris, listening to her stories about the stars. It was peaceful up there on the roof and Iris knew, eventually, it'd have to come to an end. They'd have to climb back down to the bedrooms and try to get a few minutes rest before her dad 'woke' them up for school. Iris' throat was getting a little sore, too, from the cold air and all the talking. But she didn't stop. Not when Barry looked so... like he was finally pulling back together, instead of breaking apart.
Eventually, though, they'd stayed up so late that it was early and the sun began to rise somewhere behind the rows of houses and monotonous suburbia. Streaks of pinks and oranges racing across the sky. Iris went silent and Barry's grip on her tightened a little as they both watched the beautiful view in awed silence.
Then, still quiet, they both carefully packed everything up and crawled back to their windows.
Iris curled into her bed and was out like a light.
She wakes up at almost noon and ambles downstairs confused. Today is Monday, isn't it?
Barry looks as uncertain about the whole thing as Iris when he arrives a few minutes later. But her dad is in the kitchen, still in his pajamas too, making pancakes.
"I know yesterday was a difficult day," her dad said when they both settled at the kitchen table. "And I don't think any of us really got any sleep last night. So I thought it'd be a good idea to take today off and keep it slow. And since you didn't yesterday, if you wanted to... to visit your mom's grave, Bar..."
"I'd like that," Barry said quietly. "Thanks Joe." And then he looked over at Iris and offered her a soft smile, mouthing the words, "thank you Iris," too.