Hey, everyone. Another update for you. I've given Nora two sisters, Jeanette and Brittney. Jeanette is the oldest and Brittney is the youngest, Nora or Elanor if you will is the middle sister. This is the longest chapter thus far. I'd been doing an experiment to keep the word count between 1000-1500 words per chapter, but I think I'm just going to go with 2000. Anyway, hope you like it. Take a moment to tell me what you think with a comment or review. Have a great weekend everybody.

15 years ago

"Did you just say that?"

"What? It's the truth, that man murdered our sister. I don't care what crazy story Barry makes up or if Henry's fingerprints weren't on the knife that killed her." Iris froze in the doorway of the enclosed front porch just out of sight of the adults.

That Henry was guilty was the conclusion everyone jumped to because nothing else made sense, but she'd overheard her parents discussing it. Her dad had said, Henry, as the culprit didn't fit the facts, even if Barry's version of the story didn't sounded like some childish fantasy.

"That's utterly absurd Henry, and Nora adored each other, he wouldn't harm a hair on her head."

"Oh yes, the Man in Yellow did it?" The second woman said voice heavy with scorn and twelve-year-old Iris identified her as Barry's Aunt Jeanette. The one who looked so much like Nora that she'd started crying when they met the woman, Barry had simply thrown himself into her arms. The other woman must have been Mrs. Allen's sister Brittney.

She should probably show herself or back out of hearing range, but the girl did neither of those things choosing instead to eavesdrop on adult conversation.

"Nora indulged that child too much, can't tell fairy tales from reality."

"That boy just buried his mother, our sister and you expect him to be what normal? Are you serious right now Jeanette?"

"Are you serious right now? Our sister needs justice, and you're defending the man who killed her?"

There was a long silence Iris focused straining her ears to catch every word.

"I want justice for our sister just as much as you do, but you forget I lived with Henry and Nora for months there's no way-"

"-I don't believe this. I don't believe I'm hearing this."

Iris heard movement and shuffled backward just in time as Jeanette, Nora Allen's older sister stormed from the room. The older woman's red-rimmed eyes landed on her.

"I was looking for Barry," she said quickly.

"Well, he's not out there."

"Ok thanks."

"Hi Iris," Brittney was right behind her sister. "Is that cake for Barry?"

"Yeah."

"I haven't seen him since we got back here to the house."

"Okay, thanks."

Today was Nora Allen's funeral. She'd kept close to Barry at the church and then at the burial site, but gotten separated since they'd come home for the wake.

It was hard not to worry about him. Her best friend who'd saved her summer, her best friend who always tried to make her smile.

In the year since she and Barry had become friends, their two families had grown close. Close enough that since the Allen house was still considered a crime scene three weeks after Nora's death Nora Allen's wake was at the West house.

"You overheard us didn't you."

She tried not to look guilty.

"I used to eavesdrop all the time when I was your age. It's how you learn."

"No one ever tells us anything."

"I know. Well, I'm glad Barry has you for a best friend, he's gonna need good friends."

"I'm sorry about your sister."

"Thank you."

Brittney walked off into the house and chocolate cake in hand Iris continued her search for Barry: from room-to-room. There were people everywhere, not lots of them, but in each room, she checked eating, talking, drinking. She recognized a few of Dr. Allen's friends amongst them and some of his family from pictures.

Barry hadn't much felt like eating, but Iris in this first experience of death found her appetite undisturbed. He'd wondered off while she'd been eating with Wally and some of Barry's cousins at the kid's table.

She might have protested eating at the kid's table, after all, she had turned twelve, but it seemed well, childish to complain about it at a wake. So now she was wondering the house in search of Barry with a slice of chocolate cake in hopes of tempting him to eat something.

Iris found her mom in the hall coming out of the first-floor bathroom. For all that everyone was sad Francine was in one of her up moods, cooking for everyone, organizing everything, checking on everyone. Even now she was radiant. Soft, dark close cropped, tapered curls framed her heart shaped face, her black silk wrap dress swishing softly with each movement.

"Mom, have you seen Barry?"

Mrs. West considered a moment, a red tipped finger pressed to her lips.

"I think he was outside, the back with some of his cousins earlier."

"Thanks, mom."

"Iris where did you get that cake?"

"Barry's Aunt Brittany cut it already."

Her mother frowned.

"Is that for Barry?"

She nodded.

"Okay sweetheart, you get yourself a piece too."

"Yeah, thanks, mom."

Chocolate cake was Barry's favorite, especially like her mom made with ganache frosting and little red rosettes. Her mom had made it for their Christmas party last year. Barry's eyes got all big and round when he tasted it. He'd talked about that cake for the rest of the winter. She was sure he would eat at least a little.

Iris made her way to the back and found Jeanette's three kids, two boys and a girl all long and lean like Barry, the eldest of the two boys with the same flaming red hair as Nora all lounging on the patio furniture.

It was warm for fall. Shirt sleeves, suit jackets, and velvet dresses were all that was needed.

"Have you guys seen Barry?"

The youngest snickered and the oldest glared at him.

"Nope."

The autumn wind blew strong and stiff just then pulling down a rain of bright yellow leaves from the old Silver Maple tree in their backyard. Three sets of eyes studied her.

"My mom said he was out here."

"Haven't seen him," The eldest said with a shrug.

Her frown deepened. Her dad had taught her to pay attention to more than what people said, to what they didn't say. The snicker, the glare, Barry had been out here, and something had happened that much was clear.

"You guys got into an argument didn't you?"

The boy and the girl stiffened, and the youngest one flushed a guilty red.

"About Mr. Allen?"

The oldest boy glared at her and while the youngest boy looked at her in shock at being caught.

"We told him the truth, that his dad is a murderer."

Her free hand clenched into a fist with the flush of anger she felt. Barry was sensitive what this cousin had done was beyond cruel.

"What a horrible thing to say to someone. You guys are ass-holes." Iris rolled her eyes, turned on her heel and went back into the house more determined to find Barry than ever.

For a twelve-year-old Barry was a bit of a cry baby. He didn't do it to get his way or if he lost a game, but if you hurt his feelings his eyes would well-up, and he would sit sulking for a while, or if he got very angry he'd cry. He hated that about himself. If his cousins had said some nasty things about Dr. Allen killing Mrs. Allen he'd definitely be somewhere trying to hide how upset he was, trying to calm down. Some place quiet, dark and cool.

Iris made her way back through the house and hurried up the stairs. She checked the second-floor bathroom, and then her closet where she found him sitting on the floor face red and tear stained, black suit wrinkled. Barry met her eyes, and Iris felt her heart lurch. Her best friend looked so sad and desolate, the light that she usually saw there, the one that made it so easy to smile at him was dim, almost absent.

"Hey, Barry."

"Hey."

"I brought you some cake," she said holding the saucer out to him.

Barry eyed the cake a moment before taking it and setting it down in front of him.

"I didn't know your mom made cake."

"Your Aunt Brittany cut it. I think mom wanted to surprise you."

"Oh. Well, thanks for bringing it up here."

"You're welcome."

Barry scooted over, and she sat down next to him.

"Your cousins are ass-holes."

His lips quirked upwards for a moment. They'd gotten into swearing lately when adults weren't around.

"They really are."

For a long, while they were both quiet the sounds of the steady murmur of voices from down stairs, creaking floorboards as people moved through the house, the drone of the wind against the window panes filled the air. Iris studied the black velvet of her dress picking at bits of lint not sure where to begin but wishing things could go back to the way they were before Nora Allen had been killed.

"I'm sorry about your cousins Barry, about everything with your dad." She'd already told him she was sorry about Nora dying and she was; she liked Nora. Mrs. Allen was warm, kind, she'd seen her be firm with Barry, but she'd never displayed the famous red-haired temper Iris heard so much about.

"My dad did not kill my mom. He loves her."

"I know."

"Do you believe me though about The Man in Yellow?"

Iris didn't believe that Dr. Allen would suddenly stab his wife through the heart, but this man in yellow...

"The Man in Yellow is real Iris."

"Barry," she paused here unwilling to call her friend a liar, but her doubt was present in that one word.

"I woke up, and everything felt strange, there so much static in the air. I didn't tell anyone this, but the water in my fish tank was floating up, defying gravity."

HIs voice was soft, far away. Iris shifted position facing him; Barry had never told her about that night. She'd heard from her dad, but that was it.

"It was not normal. So I went looking for my mom and-" Barry paused here, and she could see tears in his eyes. Iris took his hand, held it, tight.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.."

"But I want to." He looked at her now. "I want you to know."

She held his eyes a moment; there was a desperation there that started a strange nervous feeling in her stomach, she swallowed.

"Okay, but will you eat Barry afterward?"

He stared at her a moment as if it had never occurred to him before nodding and wiping a hand across his eyes.

"I found her in the living room in the middle of a lightning storm. The air was electric. My hair stood on end like when you get clothes from the dryer. Mom was crying; she screamed for me to run. The lighting was all around her, red and yellow and I was so scared."

His grip on her hand tightened, and Iris watched him riveted now. He didn't seem to see her at all.

"There was a man in the storm. A man in yellow and I thought maybe he came right towards me, maybe. But then there was wind and leaves and fog, and it was cold, and I was outside. A police car came so I went with them and they brought me back to the house and mom was already..." Barry looked at her now; the far away look fading, tears rolling down stained cheeks.

"Oh, Barry."

He wiped at his face with his free hand, mopping up tears with his sleeve.

"They said I was twenty blocks away. I heard them; even they thought it was strange. I couldn't have run that far in bare feet. Something strange happened that night, and no one believes me. My dad didn't kill my mom. You don't think I'm lying or crazy do you? You have to believe me, Iris!"

There was desperation in his voice, his hand gripped her hers almost painfully and his eyes wide and intense pleaded with her to believe in him.

Iris nodded slowly. A man in lighting didn't make any sense, but she knew Barry wouldn't lie to her and he didn't seem crazy. Everyone knew for a fact that Barry was twenty blocks away. The neighbors had seen strange lights, lightning even though there was no storm that night. Barry's story fit those facts.

"Yeah, Barry I do believe you."

He smiled then, eyes lighting with it, the first she'd seen in weeks and Iris couldn't help but smile back. And then Barry hugged her not those intense hugs he'd been giving her since his mom died, where he held onto her like he'd never let her go. This was friendly, gentle, what she was used to, the hugs that caused that peculiar flutter around her heart.

"You have to eat now."

"Right."

He moved away from her and picked up the cake.

If Barry's mom had been killed by a man in lightning where did he come from and where did he go? She was too old to believe in stuff like Harry Potter or X-Men, but-

"I'm glad you're my best friend Iris."

His eyes didn't look as bright as they had when she'd told him she believed him, but the grimness in them was lessened, and she could see he was more relaxed now like he had just passed a test.

"Me too Barry."

"Did you want some cake?"

"Mhmm."

Thanks for reading chapter 6 should be up on Sunday. I'll be alternating between the present and the past to show how WestAllen developed as well as how other relationships and characters differ from the show. Don't forget to subscribe so you don't miss an update and take a moment to leave me a review and let me know what you think.