Flash A Smile-You Can Run But You Can't Hide
Central City (Still 2006...)
Lightening shook the entire West household.
Rain splattered against the windowsills.
Midnight wind blew in howls as thunder rumbled.
A light flashed brightly as the Speed Force opened up.
Barry frowned as he tossed and turned in his sleep.
His breaths came out quick and ragged.
"No," his head whipped to the side. "No...mom."
16 year old Barry ran through his old house, stumbling at the bottom of the stairs.
It was storming.
His mom was screaming.
Barry eyes widened as he saw the scene take place before him...again.
Colors danced around as if they were locked in a life or death battle.
"NO!" He screamed, rushing forwards.
Yellow energy knocked him in the chin, sending him flip side into the wall.
Nora tried to crawl over to him, "Barry!"
"MOM!"
He quickly looked around for something to help stop whatever was happening.
The red streak got knocked into a mirror.
It shattered.
The boy's breath quickened, the other came at them with a nightmarish face.
Barry stood to his feet, and grabbed his mother, holding her tight.
His eyes shut tight.
The noise died down.
"Pathetic..."
Barry's heart stopped dead.
"You thought we could actually save her."
He...He knew that voice.
His eyes opened.
Everything was pitch black around him.
The house was gone.
The yellow masked man was gone.
All that stood in front of him was himself.
A slightly older him in a red suit.
Barry stared back in terror.
"Why don't you give up?" A disgusted sneer, "We'd be better off dead."
The teen's entire frame trembled, "Why...who?"
The other Barry's eyebrows raised, "Oh I'm you, in case you haven't figured it out...I'm guessing probably not."
"Our mom...how did that not save her?!"
The other guy looked smug, "You mean, "how did you not save her. I'm just a voice inside your head."
Barry felt himself getting pretty pissed at...whoever.
The guy was a dick, voice or not.
"I'm not crazy," he defended testily.
"Oh I forgot...your Central City's very own special head case."
Barry 1 tried to throw a punch at Barry 2.
Who promptly disappeared and materialized behind him, "What did I say? Pathetic. You'll have to do better than that, to defeat The Flash."
The who?
"You're worthless! You're so sad you cut yourself...you can't tell Iris you love her, you disappoint Joe," he taunted. "You can't even get your dad out of prison."
The teen glowered daggers up at him, a strange cliche light coming from somewhere, "You're forgetting something: You're me. I screw up. You screw up."
Barry 2 huffed, tickled pink, "You're smarter than I thought...but not fast enough. Why didn't you stop her killer from stabbing a knife through her chest?"
Barry 1 was having a full-blown anxiety attack, "I-I-I-I-I," can't breath. "I was taken...down the street. I tried-"
"TRYING WASN'T ENOUGH!" The man screamed. "You know what?...I think you killed Nora Allen. You caused the WHOLE THING. Tell me...Barry? Why aren't you dead?!"
"STOP! STOP!" Barry sobbed.
Tears falling down his cheeks like rain.
There was tense silence as he sniffed and shuttered.
Then, "...Why do you hate me?"
No answer.
Just a smirk.
"WHY?!" Barry screamed, slamming a hand down on the floor.
Barry 2 stared back, "...I am you."
The teen gasped for air and shot up in bed, tangled in the sheets.
Confusion.
Zero oxygen.
"Barry! Barry! You're okay son!"
"...Y-you're n-not my d-dad," his sleep-addled brain registered.
Joe looked slightly pained at his response.
The boy was shaking like a leaf.
Joe hugged him in a great big, warm embrace.
"...You're safe here Barry. No ones going to hurt you."
...oh boy was he wrong.
Really, really wrong.
Like this entire situation.
It was also nauseating.
Barry's head started shaking, pulling away.
He couldn't breath.
His lungs kept restricting.
The police detective stood immediately and began shuffling through drawers, "Let me try and find your medication."
The teen frowned, staring at his now opened window, rain had been coming through, "Did...Did you open my window?"
"No," Joe handed him a glass of water and a red pill, "I thought you opened it."
Barry didn't answer, just gulping it down.
"Thanks."
Joe put the glass the bedside table and sat down next to him,
"Okay, now...you mind telling me what this whole thing was about?"
"...my nightmare?"
"It was about your mom, wasn't it?"
"Yeah. Sorry. I'm trying to put it behind me. I've just had a rough week," Barry told him.
Joe looked appalled, "YOU WANT TO PUT WHAT BEHIND WHAT?"
"Dad? Barry? What's going on?" Iris appeared in the door way, squinting at the pair sluggishly.
"None of your business young lady, now scoot. You both have school in the morning."
Iris nodded, still confused.
Before she could leave, Joe asked her, "Did we wake your brother and his wife?"
"No," she answered. "Their still asleep. So is the baby."
Joe nodded, "Alright, now go back to bed, I'll check on him after I'm done with Barry."
"Okay...night dad."
"Night."
Silence filled the air.
Only a drizzle was left remaining after the storm.
Joe seemed to be brimming with some type of anger.
It made Barry slink down under his covers, trying to hide.
He would have flipped at the possibility of Joe having seen his newly collected pink, mangled scars but he already knew what this was about.
"Young man," his voice shook dangerously, "When has anyone EVER!" (Barry jumped.) "-Made the impression they wanted you to forget Nora Allen?!"
Was he suppose to answer?
He tried to win back brownie points using honesty, "It's the impression I got from everyone. Why else send me to psychiatrists all the way from Central City to Gotham?!"
"YOU NEED SOME HELP HEALING BARRY!"
"THERE'S NOTHING "WRONG WITH ME!"
"YOU SAW YOUR MOTHER GET MURDERED OF COURSE THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU!" Joe's eyes were wild, things poured out of his mouth he did not mean.
"Get out," the teen hissed.
"Barry-"
"NO!" He screamed, tears pouring down his face. "I've had it up to here with accusations that I'm crazy! THAT I DIDN'T SEE WHAT I SAW THAT NIGHT!"
"YOU SAW YOUR FATHER BARRY! NOT A MASKED MAN IN A YELLOW LIGHT, NOT THE TOOTH FAIRY: BUT HENRY ALLEN!"
"GET THE FUCK OUT!"
The door slammed behind the detective.
Wally West began wailing in the next room.
At least someone understood.
His mother and Rudy began speaking in hushed tones.
The sixteen year old rubbed his face in frustration and screamed, throwing something breakable against the door frame.
His heart pounded wildly against his chest.
His breaths constricted, the anti-anxiety medication not kicking in yet.
Barry tore through his closet like a -er, eccentric person and shoved back clothes and old storage boxes.
He wasn't crazy he wasn't crazy he wasn't...crazy.
-WHY DID NO ONE FUCKING BELIEVE HIM?
Why didn't Joe or Iris believe what really happened?
He wasn't...he wasn't crazy or...confused or a liar.
Why couldn't they just...believe?
Barry stopped when he hit the back wall and clicked the small light bulb on.
He stared at the massive display of newspaper clippings and articles of his parent's case.
Photos taken and strung up of potential suspects.
Any paranormal or related substances to what happened that night went on the wall.
Theories, facts, proof.
He had all of it.
Or...he would.
Barry smirked.
He was so close.
The key to any unexplained phenomenon like this could be answered in a 400 page length novel by a man of the name Harrison G. Wells.
Science was the key.
Luckily for Barry he understood it.
The teenager had far gone the boarder line of obsession 3 years ago.
If Joe saw this he'd probably have a heart attack.
It was that extensive.
Then again, the stalker photos probably didn't help his case.
In either situations.
Old scribbles of "Man in Yellow," "Where is he?"
Followed by a giant "Who is he?" in red marker taking up an entire side of the closet wall.
Yeah...he better pray Joe didn't find this.
Barry took out a pen and wrote down the most current event.
Scary hazel-green eyes stared at sketching of The Mysterious Yellow Man.
'You better run and hide,' he thought. 'Because I'm coming for you."
Next Time...
"I'm Francisco Ramon."
"Barry. Barry Allen."