Flash a Smile

"You're late, Mr. Allen."

"Sorry, Mr. Meyers," Barry said apologetically as he took his seat at his desk, "It won't happen again."

"Let's not lie now, Mr. Allen," Mr. Meyers said, giving Barry a half smile.

He couldn't be mad at the kid. He was one of his favorite students after all. Barry just smiled apologetically at him as he pulled opened his biology textbook.

"Where were you?" his friend, Cam, whispered to him once their teacher had resumed lecture.

"Slept through my alarm," Barry muttered dismissively.

"You've been doing that a lot lately," his buddy said with a laugh.

Barry just shrugged and returned his attention back to Mr. Meyers. It was true though. Barry had been so exhausted lately that he had been sleeping right through his alarm, making him chronically late for school. His frequent tardiness had already landed him in detention twice now. In fact, he would be serving a detention after school today.

Within a few minutes of being in the classroom, it started. Barry felt something light hit the back of his head. He didn't turn to see what it was and who had thrown it. He already knew. Tony Woodward and his punk-ass friends often made a game out of throwing bits of rolled up paper at Barry in class. He knew they were only trying to get a rise out of them, so Barry knew better than to humor them by retaliating or getting angry.

Still, as Barry felt two more bits of paper ricochet off his back, he couldn't stop his blood from boiling. He was so not in the mood for this today. He had woken up not once but twice from his nightmares last night, and his resulting exhaustion had him on edge. Barry heard the boys behind him snigger and whisper to each other just before he felt another rolled up wad of paper bounce off the back of his head. Barry clenched his fists tighter in anger, but he didn't rise. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they had got to him.

He just waited torturously for the bell to ring so he could get the hell out of there. It really sucked because Barry would have really enjoyed biology if it hadn't been for them. Instead, he found himself waiting anxiously for this hour of the day to be over with. Barry's fists didn't unclench until the bell rang, and he was finally able to pack up his books and leave.

"You dropped something, Allen," Tony sneered at him as he walked out of the classroom.

His friends all laughed. Barry waited until they were gone to pick up the bits of paper on the ground. It killed him to do it, but he wasn't going to just leave a mess on the floor for Mr. Meyers or the janitor to clean up. He was grateful to his friend when Camron stooped down to help him.

"Ignore them, Barry," he said to him.

"Always do," Barry muttered, as they threw all the paper in the garbage and exited the classroom.

Once they had reached their lockers, Barry changed the subject.

"I wish I hadn't missed the beginning of class. It was an interesting lecture."

"You can borrow my notes if you want to," Cam said, holding out his notebook.

"Thanks," Barry said gratefully, taking the notebook from him, "All of this stuff about different poisons and how it the body reacts to them is so cool. I'm usually more into physics and chemistry, but biology has been surprisingly interesting."

"I don't know," Cam said, "I don't see how we're ever going to use any of this. It's not like people get poisoned all the time."

"You never know," Barry said enthusiastically, "What would you do if you found someone unconscious and you had to identify the poison and treat it?"

"Um, I'd call an ambulance," Cam said with a laugh.

Barry just rolled his eyes and laughed.

"I think it's still interesting and useful to know."

"You would," Cam laughed, "Guess that's why you're Mr. Meyers' favorite."

"Am not," Barry scoffed.

"Dude, you totally are," Matt, their other friend, said as he approached them, "Him and just about all the other teachers at this school."

Barry just rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," Cam added, "I swear Mrs. Faber is like in love with you."

"Okay, whatever," Barry said sarcastically, grabbing his books and closing his locker, "I have to get to class now. I can't really afford any more detentions for tardiness. Joe would kill me."

"Kay, see you at lunch, man," Matt said, and Barry's two friends both walked off to their study hall, while Barry went to his AP Calc class.

It sucked that none of his friends took his AP classes with him. It was only seniors in those classes, and Barry was the only sophomore who was taking AP calculus, chemistry, and physics. The classes were incredibly interesting, but he often got lonely in them. At least there was no Tony Woodward to deal with during this part of the day. Tony was in remedial for most of his classes. The only classes he and Barry had to take together were biology and gym class.

When Barry made it to lunch, he quickly found his friends at their usual table and sat down by them. He spotted Iris across the cafeteria with her friends. She and Barry often sat together at lunch. Usually one of them would move over from their table to sit with the other one's friends, or the two groups would simply sit together. Today, however, they both sat separate from each other.

Iris knew when Barry wanted his space. She always heard him when he woke up screaming in the middle of the night, and she knew to always give him some space the day after it happened. He was usually quiet and wanted to be left alone, even though he was too polite to say it.

Even now, as Barry's friends talked, Barry hardly listened to the conversation. His mind kept reverting back to his nightmares from the night before. It was usually the same one of the night that his mother had died, but there were sometimes different renditions of the traumatic event. Sometimes in his dream he tries to save her but fails. A lot of the time, he isn't flashed two blocks away but stays there to witness the whole thing, his subconscious imagination filling in the blank parts of the memories of his trauma. Sometimes his dad is also killed by the man in yellow or sometimes even himself. The worst version though is the one where he is the one driving the knife through his mother's heart with his own hands. That one always broke his heart the most.

"Barry," his friend said to him loudly. Barry snapped out of his morbid thoughts and looked at Matt in reply.

"Dude, I said your name like five times," he said incredulously.

"Oh, leave him alone," Cam said with a laugh, "He's probably just thinking about his precious Becky."

Barry rolled his eyes at his friends' teasing. He and Becky weren't even dating. He couldn't really even say they were friends. They didn't actually know each other that well. They had barely even spoken to each other, yet everyone seemed to think there was something going on between them.

"Actually, I was just thinking about how badly I'm going to crush you in Madden tonight," Barry joked with an easy laugh.

He surprised even himself with how easily he was able to fake a laugh and appear as if nothing was wrong. He was glad Iris wasn't at their table right now. Only she would have detected the hollowness in his voice or the falseness of his forced smile.

"I'm sick of playing Madden," Cam whined, "We should play Call of Duty tonight instead. I just got the 2006 version. Call of Duty 3!"

"Wait, what about Preston's party tonight?" Matt said, "I thought we were all going to that."

"Can't," Barry said flatly, "Joe has that new alarm system on the house now. Iris and I can't sneak out anymore."

"For real?" Matt said with an exasperated look, "Come on, dude. You and I both know that you're smart enough to figure out a way around that."

Barry sighed. Iris had said the same thing to him, and she had been practically begging for him to get the security code for her.

"Fine," he said in defeat, "I'll figure it out."

"Yes!" Matt said in triumph, "That's what I'm talking about! It'll be a much better Friday night than staying in playing video games."

"I can't go," Cam said sadly, "I'm still grounded, remember?"

"So just do what Barry's doing," Matt said simply, "Sneak out."

"I can't," Cam insisted, "If my mom catches me again, she said she'd take away my PS2. Sorry, guys. I'm not gonna risk it."

"Suit yourself then," Matt said with a shrug, "I guess Barry and I will just have to party it up without you then."

He slapped Barry on the back, and Barry gave him a weak smile. Barry wasn't much of a partier to begin with. He would go out every now and then, and he had a lot of fun, but he wasn't really the type to go out every weekend or anything. If he was being honest, Barry wasn't really looking forward to going out tonight. He wasn't really in the partying mood, and he was still tired from getting so little sleep the night before.

Barry went through his afternoon classes in a haze. Iris, who was taking English 10 with him, noticed how withdrawn he was. He clearly wasn't paying any attention in class, and it especially showed when Mrs. Faber called on him and he didn't even respond.

"Mr. Allen," she said again. Barry snapped his head up and looked at her.

"S-sorry," he stammered sheepishly, "What was the question?"

She looked mildly irritated, but she patiently restated the question for him.

"What do you think Holden Caulfield means when he calls everyone around him phonies?"

"Um," Barry stalled as he tried to remember the book, "I think he's sees everyone as being fake and insincere. He only sees the worst in people, and calling them phonies is his way of dismissing them before really getting to know them."

"Excellent answer, Mr. Allen," Mrs. Faber praised him fondly, "You may not always pay attention or be on time, but you always do the reading."

Barry smiled sheepishly at her. When the teacher went back to talking about The Catcher in the Rye, Iris tapped on Barry's shoulder from where she sat in her desk behind his. He turned around to look at her.

"Are you okay?" she whispered worriedly.

"I'm fine," Barry said automatically, "Just not looking forward to detention today."

Iris nodded understandingly but was still looking at him with a worried expression. Even after he had turned back around, she stared at the back of his head, worrying. She knew he was having a rough week. That's what four nights in a row of nightmares did to someone. They weren't normally this frequent, and Iris didn't know what had triggered them to suddenly get this bad. Something else had to be upsetting Barry. His nightmares were the symptom, not the problem.

It was December.

That had to be it. Barry hated winter. It reminded him too much of that night. His mother had died on January 18th, right after the holidays. It wasn't a particularly happy time of year for Barry. Iris just hoped he would cheer up when Christmas came around.

…..

Gym class was Barry's own personal version of hell. He actually wasn't completely hopeless when it came to the physical stuff. He wasn't particularly athletically inclined, but Barry was a damn good runner. Track and cross country were the only sports he seemed to excel at, but neither of those were currently in season at the moment.

It wasn't even the physical part of gym that Barry hated though. It was the fact that he had to take it with Tony Woodward and his friends. Throwing paper at Barry in biology was nothing compared to what they did to him in gym class. They were constantly trying to trip him, constantly going out of their way to be unnecessarily rough with him, whether it was tackling him too hard during the "flag" football unit or elbowing him in the face or the ribs during the basketball unit. Not to mention all the shit they pulled in the locker room. Barry had just about had enough of all of it.

Barry was way too exhausted today to fully participate in gym class. He figured that's why he was getting a C in the class. The PE teacher felt like he was never fully giving it his all, which if Barry was being honest with himself, he probably wasn't. He was cranky and exhausted, and he had a hard time making himself care about gym class with everything else that was going on in his life. Really, it was a challenge lately just to make himself care about anything.

By the time gym class was over (and Barry had a few new bruises thanks to Tony), Barry wanted nothing more than to go home and pass out for a couple hours. He couldn't though. He still had detention to serve. Detention wasn't completely terrible. Thankfully today was one of the few days when Tony didn't have detention. Barry was thankful for this stroke of luck, seeing as most of the time when he served a detention it was made even worse by the fact that Tony and his friends were regulars in detention.

Unfortunately, staying late for detention also meant that Barry had to walk home. He and Iris both shared a car that Joe had got for them, and she had offered to wait for him or to come pick him up after, but he told her not to worry about it. He didn't really want to be alone in a car with her at the moment anyways. He knew she would try to pry and figure out what was going on with him, and he didn't feel like answering twenty questions right now. Not after the long day he had just had (and even longer night).

Their house wasn't very far from Central City High, but it always took Barry a long time to walk home. He always had to take the long way. The shortest route, the one that made the most sense, was to take Adams Street, but Barry could never walk that way. No, it was not because of bullies. He couldn't go down Adams Street because that was the street that he used to live on when he was a kid. Barry didn't think he could bear to walk past his childhood home again. It bothered him enough that he still lived so close to it. To walk past it, to see the house again for himself, was more than Barry could handle. He hadn't been anywhere near that place since that night, and Barry didn't ever intend to go back there again. He revisited the place enough in his nightmares every night.

When Barry finally got home, it was to find Iris sitting on the living room couch, her laptop sitting in her lap. She looked up at him when he entered.

"Hey, Bar," she said cheerfully. Barry was slightly irked to hear a hint of pity and worry in her voice, "How was detention?"

"Not terrible," Barry muttered dismissively, heading for the stairs, "I think I'm going to go lay down and take a nap now."

Iris gave him an understanding look.

"Okay," she said quietly, doing an even poorer job at hiding the concern in her voice.

Barry usually only took after school naps when he was wiped out from track or cross country practice. He would come home, eat half the kitchen, and then pass out for an hour or two. But he didn't have those afterschool practices this time of year. The only other time he took naps like this was when his nightmares had gotten so bad that he was chronically sleep deprived and needed to catch up on sleep.

An hour after Barry had disappeared up the stairs to lie down, her father got home.

"Where's Barry?" he asked her immediately.

"Upstairs sleeping," she answered quietly.

She and her father both shared a knowing look.

"Dad, what's going on with him?"

"Don't you worry about it," he said dismissively, "Barry's just going through some stuff right now. He'll be okay."

"Dad, please," Iris said, "Don't cut me out of the loop. I'm not eleven anymore. If Barry's hurting, I want to be there for him. I know the nightmares are really bad right now. My room is right next to his, after all."

Her dad sighed and gave her a weary look.

"Okay, Iris," he said, "I suppose you're old enough now that you should be a part of this. You are his best friend after all. You should understand everything that's going on with him."

He sighed again as he sat down on the couch next to her, thinking of where to start. He decided to just dive right in and not dance around the subject.

"Last year, Barry was officially diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder," he started and then gave her a very serious look, "Do not ever repeat those words to him though. If Barry even hears mention of anything involving PTSD, he gets extremely angry. That's why he quit therapy last year in the first place."

Iris nodded silently and waited for her father to continue.

"Barry gets what the doctors call 'anniversarial reactions.' This time of year always triggers the nightmares, and if handled right, they usually go away with some time. I'm sure you've noticed the pattern?" he asked her.

Iris nodded. She had noticed it for the last couple years now.

"I've been trying to get Barry to go back to therapy, but he gets so angry and upset every time I mention it. He's just had too many bad experiences with therapists in the past."

"Well, yeah," Iris said obviously, "Of course he hates therapists. They all practically told him he was crazy because of what he said he saw that night. Can you blame him for disliking them?"

"Iris, Barry needs to come to terms with what he witnessed that night," her dad said gently, "He watched his dad kill his mother. That's what he really saw. I think deep down, Barry knows that. He just doesn't want to accept that reality."

Iris didn't know what to believe. She didn't know if what Barry saw that night was real or not, but she did know one thing; Barry fully believed without a doubt that his dad did not kill his mother.

"Dad, what if you're wrong?" she asked, "What if Barry really did see something else that night?"

Her dad just shook his head sadly at that.

"He didn't, Iris," he said firmly, "Barry was traumatized. He was just a scared little boy, and this delusion of his about the man in the yellow lightning was just his brain's way of coping with what he really saw. I don't blame Barry for it. After everything that happened to him, I don't blame him for being a little messed up by it. I understand that he just doesn't want to accept the truth of it, so his mind made up its own version of what happened."

Iris nodded thoughtfully. It was somewhat confusing. She had really only ever heard all of this from Barry's side. Hearing it from her father's point of view, it all sounded so different. Her dad almost made it seem like Barry was crazy or something. She didn't really know what to think. She wanted to believe Barry, and she didn't want to think of him as being crazy. Then again, if she really thought about it, her father's version made the most sense. Logically speaking at least.

"Barry's not crazy, dad," she said quietly.

"I didn't say he was," Joe said quickly, "I don't think he's crazy, Iris. I really don't. I just think that Barry has a lot that he's dealing with, and I want to make sure we're doing all the right things to help him through it all."

Iris nodded her agreement.

"I'll do whatever I can," she said firmly to him, "We'll help him through this, as a family."

Joe smiled at her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"That's my girl," he said proudly.

…..

Yes, I know I changed the date of Nora Allen's murder. In the show, they say it was on March 18, 2000, but I changed it for the purpose of this story. Also, it bothered me that they made it the day before Barry's birthday, which is technically March 19th according to the DC Calendar. I know I like to hurt Barry, but I'm not that heartless.