I'm Not a West

"Barry."

Barry stared at the posters covering the lunch room, a dull ringing sound filling his ears as he stared at the bright red letters.

BARRY ALLEN

MURDERER IN TRAINING

"Barry."

A buzzing sound seemed to fill the large space of the cafeteria. Barry couldn't make out any of the whispered words being exchanged by his fellow students, but he really didn't want to. Their eyes on him were enough to make him want to disappear—to make him want to crawl into a hole and never resurface for the rest of his life.

"Barry!"

Barry turned his head to the side when he felt a light tugging on his arm. He looked blankly at Iris, his numb mind barely registering the heartbroken look on her face. She was speaking to him, but he couldn't even process her words. The next thing he knew, Iris was no longer in view and he was slowly walking towards the cafeteria doors. He could hear Iris calling out from behind him, but Barry kept walking, his mind on autopilot as his body moved towards the exit, trying to just get him the hell out of there.

When daylight broke through his haze and Barry realized he had made it out of the school, he somehow didn't feel any relief. He felt as if he might as well still be standing in that cafeteria. Barry picked up his pace as he walked down the sidewalk, trying to put as much distance between himself and his peers as possible. As soon as the tears finally started to fall, Barry broke into a run. He didn't care where he went. He just needed to get away.

Barry didn't know why he ended up at Iron Heights. He hadn't really intended to go there—or maybe he had. Or maybe he was just so used to that being his destination when he ran like this. Either way, Barry suddenly found himself standing outside the prison. He leaned his back against the brick building, gasping and trying to control his breathing as he slid down the side of the building until he was crouching, his elbows resting on knees.

He ran a hand over his face, brushing away the tears. Now that he was away from the school, he could finally take a breath and processed what just happened. It all kept replaying in his mind—the bright red letters, the buzzing whispers filling the cafeteria, all the faces staring back at him as he just stood there. Iris's pitying expression.

Barry didn't know what to do. He couldn't go back. Lunch ended in less than twenty minutes, and he was supposed to be back before then, but he couldn't. He simply couldn't set foot in that school right now. He didn't know where to go. He could go home, but sitting alone in the empty house was the last thing Barry felt like doing. He could go to the CCPD, but Joe wasn't really the one he wanted to talk to. Ironically, that person was his father.

If only his classmates could see him now, going straight to Iron Heights to visit his "murderer" father for comfort. Barry wiped his face quickly and stood back up. Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the door and entered the Iron Heights visitor area, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

"Hey, Barry," Officer Gracie greeted him immediately, "What brings you here on a Thursday? Shouldn't you be in school right now?"

"Open campus lunch," Barry muttered as he approached the desk.

Officer Gracie laughed.

"You need to work on your lying skills, kid," he chuckled, "Playing hookie, huh?"

"It's a long story," Barry sighed, looking down at the desk, "Please don't tell Joe."

Officer Gracie just shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"You know it's illegal for minors to be truant from school?" he said lightly, "Walking into a prison full of cops…not your best move."

"School. Prison. What's the difference?" Barry said with a small twitch of his lips.

Officer Gracie laughed and shook his head at him again.

"Touché," he chuckled, "So, what are you doing here anyways?"

"I came to see my dad," Barry said, as if it were obvious.

The smile left the young officer's face then.

"Barry," he said seriously, "You know I can't let you do that."

"I know it's not Saturday yet," Barry said quickly, "But I figured you could maybe let it go, just this once?"

"Not without Joe's permission," the officer said sadly, "Your guardian only permitted you weekly visits. Unless you have Joe sign off on it, I'm afraid I can't let you in today. I'm sorry, Barry."

Barry sighed and looked down at the floor, a lump forming in his throat. The pure wrongness of this entire arrangement never failed to make his blood boil. He was being denied seeing his own father. Barry looked up at the officer with watery eyes.

"Please," he whispered, "Please, Jim. He's my dad. Just this once, please let me see him. I really need to talk to him right now. I don't know who else to go to."

"Barry…" Officer Gracie said, giving him a pained look.

"I promise I won't tell anybody," Barry said desperately, "If you just do this for me, no one else will have to know."

"It'll be in the visitation record, Barry," the officer said regretfully, "And I'm a new CO here. You know how much trouble I could get in for letting a minor visit an inmate without their guardian's permission?"

Barry stared at him, not knowing what else he could say or do to change the other man's mind.

"Do you have a piece of paper?" Barry blurted suddenly.

"What?"

"Do you have a piece of paper and a pen that I could borrow?" Barry asked quickly.

Officer Gracie gave him a strange look before reaching over to the printer to grab him a blank sheet of paper and a pen.

"Thanks," Barry said shortly, and without another word, he walked out of the building.

He returned just a few minutes later, and Officer Gracie gave him a confused look as approached the desk for a second time. Barry slapped the piece of paper down onto the desk, and the young officer then picked it up to look at it and the writing that was now on it.

My foster son, Bartholomew Henry Allen, has my permission to visit with his father, Henry Allen on Thursday, December 14th, 2006.

—Detective Joseph West

"Barry," Officer Gracie huffed, setting the note down on the counter.

"I just ran into Joe outside," Barry said flatly, "He said I could see my father today."

"Barry, even if this was real, a note doesn't suffice," the young officer said, shaking his head, "Joe has to actually be here for—"

"You're a new officer," Barry said seriously, "If it becomes an issue, just say you didn't know."

Officer Gracie gave him an uneasy look.

"How important is this that you see him today?" he sighed, "Can't it just wait until Saturday?"

"I need to see him now," Barry insisted, tears filling his eyes, "Please, Jim. You…you have no idea the kind of day I'm having. I need to talk to my dad."

Officer Gracie ran a hand through his hair.

"Barry, can't we just call Joe?" he suggested.

"You know what he would say," Barry said quietly.

The young officer let out a heavy sigh.

"Fine," he groaned, "I'll do this for you, but just this once, Barry. You understand?"

"Thank you," Barry said, relief washing over him, "Thank you, Jim. I can't tell you what this means to me."

"He's your dad," Officer Gracie said simply, "I understand. Just don't tell anyone I did this for you, okay?"

Barry nodded gratefully.

"Thank you."

…..

Iris didn't know if she should maybe call her dad. Or maybe she should just ditch school and try to find Barry herself. She had tried to follow him, but as soon as he was out of the building, he had broken out into a run. Iris had never been able to keep up with him.

She never really knew when he needed space and when he needed someone to lean on. Barry wasn't always the greatest at communicating what he needed. It was always a guessing game with him.

Iris sighed and walked back into the school, feeling sick to her stomach. Lunch was nearly over now, which she was grateful for. She didn't want to sit in this cafeteria any longer than she had to. Iris glared at the posters covering the walls. How could anyone do something so sick? Why would they want to hurt Barry like this?

"Is Barry okay?" her friend, Lauren, asked her when she sat back down at their table.

"I don't know," Iris sighed, "Bullying him is one thing, but this stuff with his dad…it's a low blow."

"You know it was Tony, right?" Lauren said seriously.

"I think everyone here knows it was Tony," Iris said darkly, glaring across the lunchroom at Tony Woodward.

He was laughing and high-fiving his friends, celebrating their pathetic victory at tearing down the kindest person Iris knew. Iris wanted nothing more than to cross the lunchroom right now and smack that smug grin off Tony's stupid face, but she couldn't. Barry had made her promise countless times not to get involved when Tony or anyone else was bullying him. He said he didn't want her to become a "social pariah" too.

That term of Barry's never failed to bother her. What Barry didn't realize was that not everyone saw him that way. A lot of people at school loved Barry and didn't believe all the rumors that circulated about him. Even now, Iris saw that she wasn't the only one shooting Tony dirty looks. While the majority of people were gossiping and buzzing with excitement over what had just happened, there were quite a few who looked just as disturbed by the prank as she was.

Iris's eyes burned with tears as she looked at all the posters around the room. She didn't know how much more of this Barry could take. They were only in their sophomore year of high school, and she didn't know if Barry could handle two more years of this torture. Barry was right. She didn't know how it felt. Sure, she had been teased a few times when she used to have glasses and braces, but it was nothing compared to what these teenage assholes did to Barry. As if his family stuff wasn't enough, of course Barry's high school experience had to be hell on top of everything else.

Barry's whole life had been hell, ever since he was eleven.

…..

"Barry…" his father said quietly.

Barry wiped his eyes and shook his head.

"I can't do this anymore, dad," he choked, "I can't keep going to a school where everyone is constantly calling you a murderer."

"Barry, they're just high school kids," his dad said reasonably, "You really think I care what they think? Don't worry about me. I've got thick skin. The only thing that worries me is how this is affecting you. Have…have you talked to Joe about what we discussed? About you changing schools?"

Barry shook his head.

"I don't want to run," he said quietly, "I do have friends there, and a girlfriend…and Iris. I don't want to change schools."

"What about that other thing we discussed?" his father said gently, "About your name."

"I'm not changing my name," Barry said angrily, "I'm not doing that, dad."

"It might make things easier for you, Barry," his dad said gently, "You could take up your mother's maiden name, or even…even take 'West' as a last name."

Barry's eyes widened.

"I'm not a West," he said forcefully, "I'm an Allen, and that's not going to change. You're my family."

"The Wests are too, Barry," his father said quietly, "You really can't see that?"

"I know they love me," Barry said painfully, "And I love them too. And I appreciate them letting me live with them, but…"

"It won't hurt me," his dad said quietly, "It won't hurt my feelings if you consider them your family, Barry. I want you to accept them as your family. I don't want you to be alone."

"I'm not," Barry assured him, "I have them…and I have you, my real family."

"You can have more than one family, Barry," Henry said sadly, "You don't have to give up one to have another."

"Yet you want me to renounce your last name," Barry said angrily, "You want me to become a West."

"I would still be your father," his dad insisted, "It wouldn't change anything."

"Yes, it would," Barry said stubbornly, "It would change everything."

"It would make things easier for you," Henry said painfully, "If people didn't know you were my son, you wouldn't have to face all the judgment and ridicule that you do now."

"I'm glad they know," Barry said firmly, "I'm not ashamed of you, dad. I'm proud to be your son."

His father's eyes filled with tears at these words.

"You're a good son, Barry," he said quietly, "I can't tell you how proud I am of you. You've been so strong. So brave. I just want to make things easier for you. I don't want you to grow up like this."

"I'll be fine," Barry said, "I have you. And the Wests. And someday soon, you're going to be out of here, and we won't have any glass between us when we talk."

His father sighed and gave him a sad look. He didn't give him his usual lecture about letting it go, though. Instead, he put his hand up to the glass, and Barry gave him a watery smile before doing the same.

"I love you, son," his father choked.

"I love you too, dad."