When he was five years old, Don Allen got into a fight at school. It wasn't his fault.
Actually, it was Barry's.
The story tumbled out as two still-simmering little boys and three of their parents sat together in the principal's office.
"As you know, we take our behavior policy very seriously here." Dr. Skinner sat behind her desk, hands folded calmly on the blotter, and let her glance touch each adult. "What I should do is send both boys home for the rest of the week and hope it teaches them a lesson."
Barry shifted in his chair and gave the principal a hopeful smile. "That seems a little extreme. I mean, the boys were wrong to fight but it's the first time either of them have been in trouble. Personally, I think a little leniency is called for. We'll have a long talk with Don, of course, but if they both apologize . . . "
"I'm not apologizing for nothing!" Arms crossed over his narrow chest, Don's chin jutted out in a way that was eerily similar to his Pawpaw Joe. The scowl on his face as he glared at the other boy added to the resemblance.
"Anything. You're not apologizing for anything . . . Never mind." Iris sighed and leaned over to lay a hand on his knee. "Donnie, sweetheart . . . "
"He called me a liar! I'm not a liar!"
"Are, too!" His nemesis, a pugnacious redhead whose freckles were almost buried beneath an angry flush, grew even redder as he yelled back. "Liar! Liar! Liar!"
"Chad Willoughby! That's enough! You apologize right now!" Chad's mother grabbed his arm and gave it a little shake. "Right now!"
While Chad remained obstinately silent, Don looked at his parents with outrage.
"I told him how we forgot ice cream for Uncle Cisco's birthday but Daddy was so fast, he brought some back from the store before you even finished lighting the candles! And he called me a liar!"
Over his head, Barry and Iris' eyes caught and held, filled with dismay. Although they'd had several conversations about how and when - - and if - - they should tell the twins about Barry's powers, up to this point, the children hadn't seemed to notice anything different about him. That streak of luck, apparently, had run out.
"Well, buddy . . . "
"Honey . . . "
Fortunately for them, Chad's mother interrupted. "Chad! You called this little boy a liar just for playing make-believe? I'm ashamed of you! You know better than that! Now apologize! I mean it! Tell him you're sorry!"
"But I wasn't playing make-believe! Daddy really did mmmfph mmmmfph . . . "
Whatever else Don might have said was muffled behind the hand Barry used to cover his mouth. Conscious of Dr. Skinner watching, he lowered his eyebrows and gave his son a stern look.
"Don, you need to apologize, too. Fighting at school is not an option."
"But - - "
"Don."
"Chad." Chad's mother was equally as determined. Faced with a unified front, the two boys bowed to parental pressure and mumbled out apologies that were as reluctant as they were obviously insincere.
In the face of Dr. Skinner's continued disapproval, Barry tried another smile. "I can promise you this will never happen again. Besides, you know how kids are. Scuffling one minute and best friends the next. They'll probably forget all about this by tomorrow. We'll have a long talk with Don tonight and make sure he understands that fighting is unacceptable."
"And this is definitely not over for you either, young man." Chad's mother gave her son a dark, pointed look. "Just wait until your father hears about this."
Dr. Skinner's lips pursed in tight bud. "Very well. Given their ages and the fact that this is the first time either boy has been in trouble, I can amend the usual punishment. Once," she added, the threat clear. "If it happens again . . . "
"It won't. It definitely won't," Barry promised. He and Iris quickly got to their feet and shuffled Don out into the adjoining room where Dawn waited, her eyes fastened anxiously on the closed door of the principal's office. They bundled her into her jacket and hurried both kids out to the car. When Don tried once more to defend himself, he was shushed to silence.
At home, Barry and Iris set the twins up with an after-school snack and then, by unspoken agreement, retreated to the furthest corner of the living room.
"What are we going to do?" Barry kept his voice low and his gaze trained on the doorway to the kitchen, just in case the children appeared.
Iris paced back and forth in front of the big picture window that looked into their backyard. "I don't know. I mean, we knew this would happen eventually, right? They're getting older, and they're smart. It's only natural that they're starting to notice when you flash back and forth." She sent him a frown that reminded him of his sometimes reckless disregard for attracting attention. "You're not exactly careful sometimes."
Barry sighed. "I know. I just didn't think about it. I guess I thought we had more time. They never paid much attention to how long I was gone . . . or wasn't gone."
"Well, they're paying attention now," Iris said grimly.
"Yea." A few seconds of quiet passed before Barry spoke again. "You know, we could always pretend that they really didn't see . . . . "
His voice faded away when Iris looked at him in horror. "We are not gaslighting our children, Barry!"
His shoulders slumped. "Well, when you put it like that it doesn't sound like such a good idea."
Iris glanced at the archway that led to the kitchen, through which two young voices could be heard chattering over each other.
"We're going to have to tell them the truth," she said finally. "At least the basics."
Barry's gaze followed hers. He moved to her side and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Do you think they're old enough to handle it?"
"I guess they have to be." Her fingers caught his and squeezed. Another moment passed before they each took a deep, steadying breath. Then Iris called out, "Don? Dawnie? Come out here, please. Daddy and I want to talk to you."
Silence fell in the kitchen. After a few minutes, chairs scraped against the floor and then the twins were standing in the archway, holding hands.
They were beautiful children. Much the same height, with soft brown skin and the same thick halo of loose corkscrew curls, their eyes were dark and luminous, and as big as quarters as they stared at their parents.
"It's not my fault," Don blurted. "Chad started it! He - - "
Iris smiled and shook her head. He had a smear of milk across his upper lip and a dab of strawberry jelly on his chin. Her heart melted with love. "That's not what we want to talk to you about, honey. Come here."
Brother and sister looked at the hand she held out and then at each other, silently communicating as they had done since they came into the world with arms intertwined. Then they sighed heavily and trudged over to sit together in the big recliner Barry usually claimed as his.
Barry and Iris exchanged a glance filled with amusement over the dramatic response. They were careful to keep their expressions calm, though, when they pulled up a wide ottoman and sat down facing their children.
"Okay," Barry began, fidgeting a bit under the weight of their direct gaze. "What you saw at Uncle Cisco's party, when I left to get ice cream and then came back while Mommy was lighting the candles . . . Well, you're right. I'm really fast."
Don shrugged matter-of-factly. "I know. We saw you."
"Yes, I know you did." Barry rubbed at the back of his neck. "The thing is, well, I'm going to need you to keep a secret for me."
The children looked at each other and then back at him.
"Is it a good secret - - "
" - - or a bad secret?"
"Because you told us some secrets are bad - - "
" - - and we don't have to keep bad secrets."
Dawn and Don Allen had been finishing each other's sentences since they first learned to talk. It was as unnerving now as it had been the first time it happened.
"Well, yea," Barry managed. "We did tell you that. But this is a good secret. Promise."
Once again, the children looked at each other in silent communication, then, simultaneously, folded their arms over their chests and looked at him impassively. The words 'we'll be the judge of that' hung unspoken in the air.
Covering her mouth to hide a smile, Iris looked at Barry and shrugged. "Maybe you should show them."
"Okay. Yea, okay. I'll show them." He slapped his knees and got to his feet, waving one hand toward the twins as if to hold them in place. "Stay right there, okay? I'll be right back." Suddenly, he grinned. "I mean, I'll be right back."
And with a rustle of wind that carried with it a hint of something faintly electric, he was gone. Almost before the kids could react to his disappearance, however, he was back, now clad in a familiar suit of deep red.
As he pushed the cowl and mask back to reveal his face, Don and Dawn jumped out of the recliner.
"You have a Flash suit?" Don cried.
That was not the reaction he expected. Nonplussed, Barry hesitated. "Well, yea. I mean, yes, I have a suit. I'm - - "
The children crowded close, and reached with curious hands to touch him.
"Where did you get it?" Dawn asked.
"Does the Flash know you have it?"
Still seated, Iris began to laugh. Barry gave her a disgruntled look before turning once more to his children.
"Yes, he knows . . . no, that's not what I mean . . ." He gave up and started over. "Kids, I'm the Flash."
The twins stared at him without blinking for the span of a full minute. Then the questions tumbled out.
"Do you know Batman?"
"Can we meet Batman?"
"Does he really live in a cave?"
"Have you ever raced the Batmobile?"
"Are you faster than Batman?"
Convulsing with laughter, Iris rolled over and buried her face in the soft suede that covered the footstool. When she glanced up, Barry's expression set her off again.
"If you could see your face . . . "
Barry nudged her over with his hip and sat down in the space he'd created. He grabbed a hand of each child with one of his.
"Guys, that's not what this is about, okay?"
"But do you know Batman?" Don was not going to be sidetracked.
"Yes, but . . ."
"Can we meet him?" Dawn was equally as determined.
"Well, Gotham is on the other side of the country so . . ."
"But you could get there in like five minutes," Don pointed out.
"No, it would probably take longer . . ."
"Can I have a Flash suit, too?"
Dawn's question had Iris popping up to sit straight. One scarlet-tipped finger pointed at her own chest. "Hey, now. If anyone is getting a suit, it's going to be me."
"But I want a suit!"
"Me, too!"
As the twins bickered, Barry looked at Iris helplessly. "When did I lose control of this?"
She patted his shoulder and leaned over to kiss his cheek, full of mock sympathy. "When they were born, honey."
"That's what I thought." Barry pinched the bridge of his nose, then, without warning, grabbed both children and drew them into his arms and squeezed tight. "Listen, this is important."
Don's chin jutted out stubbornly. "Batman's important."
"Yes, he is." Barry raised his voice when Don opened his mouth again. "But I don't want to talk about Batman right now. This is about me being the Flash. That's a secret, and I need you to keep that secret. Okay? You can't talk about it, to anyone. Not at school. Not anywhere. Do you understand what I'm saying? You can't tell anyone your dad is the Flash."
The twins shrugged as if the keeping of weighty secrets was nothing unusual.
"Okay."
"We won't tell anyone."
Their easy agreement seemed too easy. Barry and Iris exchanged an uncertain glance.
"Are you sure? We aren't playing, guys. This is serious. You can't talk about this with anyone but us, here at home."
Tiny white baby teeth appeared as Dawn nibbled at her lower lip. "Not even Pawpaw?"
"Pawpaw is okay," Barry smiled. "He knows about me, too."
Don's head tilted as he regarded his father curiously. "What about Uncle Wally?"
"Uncle Wally knows," Barry assured him.
"What about Aunt Linda? And Uncle Cisco?"
Somewhat reluctantly, Barry nodded. "Well, they know the secret, too."
Dawn looked at him almost with pity. "You're not very good at keeping secrets, are you, Daddy?"
Barry couldn't help but laugh, and dragged her into his lap. As her high-pitched, childish giggling danced in the air, he tickled her mercilessly and growled, "I'll show you what I am good at, young lady!"
Don retreated to the comparative safety of his mother's arms and snuggled in close. When she pressed a kiss against his forehead, he blinked up innocently.
"Do you know Batman?"