Chapter Text
For as long as Barry Allen could remember, Iris West had always lived exactly five houses down.
Close enough for Barry to gaze longingly out the window, but far enough that she couldn't see him doing just that. 17 years later things were pretty much the same, Iris was wildly popular, beautiful as ever, and a cheerleader at their local high school and Barry was... well Barry.
Much like Barry Allen's life, Central City, Missouri hadn't changed much in the years he'd roamed its streets. He passed the same exact houses every day and took the same path home. He got his morning coffee from the same exact shop before he went to the same exact school.
His parents and neighbors never really seemed to grow old until they did. In short, time moved much too slowly until he met Iris West.
He'd never forget the first day he truly saw her.
Four Years Earlier
He was late for school that morning, (he was always late for school, to be honest, but that's beside the point). He couldn't function without his usual decaf, and" Jitters" was unfortunately closed for the day due to "repairments." He'd rushed in to "Morning Joe's," out of breath, with his feet moving almost inhumanely fast for someone so gangly. Breathlessly, he slammed his hands down on the cold marble counter, glancing quickly at the menu.
"Hi, I’ll have a Miel."
The barista whipped her head around quickly, her deep black curls bouncing as she did, the faint smell of coconut and warm honey lingering in the air as she fixed her eyes upon him. She laughed lightly, rubbing her hands down the side of her apron. Water droplets stained her dark blue shirt, and her bracelets jingled as she placed her towel down on the counter.
Bary gulped, it was the first thing he had said to Iris West in nearly a decade.
Iris spoke, "I never pegged you as a Miel man. Jitters closed today, huh?"
'Yeah, yeah! Listen, I'm gonna be late, and Mr. Garrick always picks on me even though I get A's in his class, and I just. I gotta go… it's so hot in here, you know, isn't it, are you hot, is it just me? Also, do you have almond mi-
'Late for what,' Iris questioned. There was an unmistakable look of confusion in her eye as if Barry had been speaking a foreign language.
'For school! Wait, what are you even doing here? Aren't you worried that you're gonna be late too? C'mon, if we walk fast enough, we can get there in time. I can carry your backpack for you if you want. However, I'm not saying that you can't carry your own backpack because women can certainly carry their own things. I just thought-"
'It's okay Barry, I'll be fine," Iris says, dipping under the counter and bringing out the ingredients to complete his order.
'You'll be fine, what do you mean, you'll be fine? Iris, you're skipping class that's against the rules," he whispers, although there's no one else around to scold them.
Iris arches an eyebrow and laughs once more "Barry, I'll be fine because it's Sunday ."
Barry blinks twice.
'Oh… oh..wow. Wow, I'm really stupid, aren't I," Barry says, looking away, his face turning beet red.
"You're not stupid, just passionate. There's nothing dumb about that, not at all." Although I do think you could use a watch.
'Oh, so you think I don't know how to tell time either. Sheesh, West, you've got it out for me today, don't you?'
Iris had replied with a laugh. She hopped over the counter, with a mischievous look in her eye. Promptly claiming the round black stool next to his.
"So, Barry Allen, what exactly have you been up to the past twelve years."
That was the last time they spoke.
A week later, her mom died.
Iris pushed him away, "Morning Joe's," closed its doors, and Joe West went on to become a police officer to provide for his two children.
Four years later, the two didn't even acknowledge each other if they passed in the hallway.
The Present
As quite a forgetful person, Barry liked to look back on that moment of pure bliss with Iris fondly. It was almost as comforting to him as the OBC recording of She Used to Be Mine . One would be hard-pressed to find something Barry loved as much as musicals and Sara Bareilles ( he liked to keep that anecdote to himself). Although he was quite good at science when he wanted to be.
He had about an hour left before he had to catch the bus, giving him just enough time to listen to the first act of Waitress . He grabbed his backpack off the chair next to bed and reached inside for his headphones. Unfortunately, they were nowhere to be found.
"Mom," Barry called from his upstairs room.
"Yes, sweetie," she yelled back.
"Have you seen my headphones?"
'No, I thought you brought them upstairs with you last night.'
"I thought I did too, the last thing I remember was putting them away in eighth period."
'Okay, honey, then I don't know, check your bag!' Nora called back.
The sound of Barry furiously shuffling around his bag carried it's way downstairs into the kitchen.
Norra smiled, laughing to herself as she turned over an omelet.
'You know you don't have to force yourself to listen to an album every single week. I'm sure Julliard will still consider you even if you don't know all the lyrics to "Candy Store."'
Barry politely ignored her," I already checked, they're not in my bag. And neither are my books wait where is all my stuff?"
'Didn't you say that Oliver borrowed your bag for football practice?'
Barry rolled his eyes and groaned, of course . Sometimes he liked to pretend that he didn't share a single drop of blood with Oliver. It wasn't too hard, the two were so vastly different. Oliver was rich, athletic, and by all other accounts incredibly handsome, and charming.
According to his mother, Barry was precisely 2 out of 4 of those things.
'Why don't you call Oliver and ask him if he has them?'
"Can't you just call Aunt Moria?"
'Barry, he's your cousin . You can't just avoid him like the plague!'
"You can't avoid the plague, mom. You know what, it's fine. I don't need them, I'll be okay today," Barry says, rushing downstairs with his bag slung over his shoulder.
'Okay, sweetie well hav-'
"Why does Oliver even need my headphones? He has AirPods!"
'Maybe he lost them?'
"Yeah, okay, and John Laurens definitely wasn't in love with Hamilton."
'What?'
"I- it's uh, you have to read the… uh - because it's actually very...uh."
In his fit of panic, Barry manages to grab a slice of bread, which he promptly stuffs into his mouth.
"Okay, byeeee, I love you." He drawls, kissing her on the cheek, his mouth full of bread as he runs out the door toward the bus stop.
'Barry! Barry wait, I made you an- ugh forget it.'
After Barry had long gone, Nora turned to her husband, who had been silently reading the paper throughout their morning banter ( he had learned to leave the two to their morning squabbles some time ago).
"Henry, do you ever think he feels lonely?"
Henry put down the paper that he had somehow managed to find despite the rise of the digital age and turned to Nora.
'He has friends, he has Wally. You can't be lonely if you have somebody right,' Henry said matter of factly as if there was absolutely no way their sweet son could ever be or feel anything but.
Nora nodded and smiled at him, placing her plate with Barry's cold omelet down on the kitchen table and taking a bite.
"But what if the person you have isn't the person you want," she shook her head and let the thought slip from her mind.
Barry was okay, he had to be, she simply couldn't imagine a world where he wasn't.