Joe's POV

I entered the precinct, containing my emotions of losing my son. For the first time I was beginning to feel the extent of what he felt the nights his parents died. I walked into his lab to collect his belongings. I still hadn't told the captain yet, this being my first day back from my personal days off.

"Allen," the captain came in. He noticed my being there and the absence of Barry. "Where is Allen, I haven't seen him in days."

I looked up at him, "May I speak to you in your office, Sir?" I placed one last item in the box before leaving. We walked down the stairs and across the rows of desks in silence. I closed the door behind us once we got in.

"There's something you need to know about Barry," I turned to sit but couldn't help the urge to stand. I had to force the words out of my system after holding them in for so long. "He's The Flash."

Singh rubbed his beard, in contemplation. "I can't say that I'm surprised."

I looked at him, "Really? You believe me? Just like that? No questioning it or anything?"

"Well ,I do have one question; Why tell me now?"

I looked down. That part was a bit more difficult for me to explain. I choked down any stifle of a sob I had in me and told him everything. By everything, I mean from the time he first got his powers, when Eddie killed himself to stop the Reverse Flash, how Zoom killed his dad, up to the part of how Barry... died. By the time I was done, I had the captain on the verge of tears.

"So," he finally said. "I guess this means I won't be getting back the best CSI this state has ever seen."

"Worst of all," I added. "We won't be getting The Flash back."

"No. Worst of all, we won't be getting Barry Allen back," he concluded.

I nodded my head, I knew how much the captain liked Barry, even if he never had the ability to say it. And I'd like to think that Barry knew it too. I smiled the weakest smile I have in years to him before I left his office.

"Oh and detective," he said to me on my way out. "Take as much time off as you need."

I nodded my head to him and made my way back up the stairs to Barry's lab. I picked up the last few of his personal items and proceeded to lift the box. All of his scientific stuff was surprisingly heavy. I knew that I wasn't going to be gone for long. I was probably just going to come back in the next day.

It's funny. I was always a little overprotective about him, even before he became a superhero. I watched over him a lot through his years living under my roof, from the day he showed up. After the explosion, I just got more attentive. Those nine months were worse than any day on the job. After he woke up I was happy to have my son back, only to see that he was a completely different person.

When I could see him run I was almost able to tell how relaxed he was. But being a hero was my job. I didn't realize how badly our city needed him until after all of the meta-humans came out from the shadows. I was drug into this new life, but not without a fight. I told him not to go out there but he was just as stubborn as me.

Every time he got out there in battle, I was more concerned than iris. I quickly got over my fears, like everyone else seemed to have already done, only to have them realized every time he got hurt. It was a vicious cycle, but I had to see that he was a man. He could make his own decisions. We all got so caught up in saving my daughter, that we had forgotten about saving my son. Barry paid the ultimate price for iris to stay with us. And I am proud to call him my son.

The next day, I came into the precinct, only to find everyone huddled by the photos of our fallen heros. I immediately thought to myself, 'who else died.' Walking into the crowd of officers I noticed that the picture that was up belonged to Barry. My appearance caught the attention of various people.

I heard several quiet, "I'm sorry for your loss" in my direction. More and more people started taking note of my presents. The crowd made a small path to the photo of Barry for me. Instead I marched right over to the captain's office.

I found him doing paperwork. I opened the door, not even attempting to knock first. I closed the door behind me, finally causing him to look up.

"Joe," he leaned back into his chair. "What brings you around here? Why aren't you at home?"

"Better question," I crossed my arms. "Why did you hang up Barry's picture?"

He shifted in his seat with discomfort. "Well," he breathed. "Barry was a member of the precinct, and when we lose someone they don't get forgotten."

I looked at him, unsure of weather I was joyous or concerned. The man who stood before me had never called Barry by his first name. I was able to ask him the one question to keep my mind a ease. "What about the questions? When people ask what happened to him, how he died?"

"We won't be having to deal with that for a little while. Or at least you won't." He stood up. "You see, people tend to tread lightly for a certain period of time, upon those whom were greatly affected by the loss of him. That includes you. Me, on the other hand, they will assume I will just tell them. I'm not his family. I'm just his boss. Although I may be 'just his boss', I still cared for the kid. So when you have a cover story, I'll listen."

"That means a lot," I bobbed my head.

"Go home, Joe. We can handle ourselves for the time being."

That time I had actually left. I left with the intention of not coming back, until next week. I think Barry would have liked to hear what Singh said about him. He was more important to people than he could have ever imagined.

Barry Allen was my son.