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He’s always right on the edge of acceptance. It’s not a bad way to live, exactly. He loves his mom and is loved by his mother sometimes, and sometimes he loves his dad; more often than not, though, he hates his father. More often than not, his father hates him. His mom asks him what he’s doing in school one day, and the next week when he tries to explain a science concept they’d gone over in class, she tells him she doesn’t care and that children should be seen, not heard. His father ignores him until he’s drunk, until he’s angry, and then Wally matters; then, he has to know where Wally was, what Wally’s been doing, how Wally’s failed them all. He learns young that mothers only care when they ask, when they’re in a good mood; he learns young that fathers only care when they’re hitting you.
They are a unit, and he assumes this is what it means to be family; loving each other despite numerous faults, hating each other in between the good times.
At eighteen he stops caring whether or not his parents love him, whether or not they accept him. This is the natural progression, he believes. Children move away, go to college, become independent. Children stop wanting approval from their parents.
He’s smart, even if he doesn’t always apply himself, and he is a hand selected recipient of the Harrison Wells Young Minds in Science scholarship. His parents are both elated that they won’t have to fund his college education, and angry that he will, inevitably, fuck up this chance as he has with so many others. He doesn’t want to believe their doubts, but his family know him better than anyone else, and they are the only family he has.
He goes to Central City University, arriving on the first day by himself with all of his life hastily thrown into bags and boxes. He sees other students with their families, laughing and crying and hugging, and wonders (not for the first time and certainly not for the last) if his definition of family is a little screwed up. Oh well. He has a chance now, a chance to make himself better. A shot to make himself proud.
He’s twenty one when the particle accelerator blows. Nothing happens, except his scholarship disappears. Luckily, his professors care enough to try and find him funding. Luckily, his mother is happy enough to hear from him for the first time in a year to co-sign a loan. He’s just happy he got her on a good day, and that his father wasn’t around.
He’s twenty two and a half when a black hole opens in the sky and the building he’s in crumbles around him.
I’m going to die, Wally thinks.
Well. He’s not wrong.
Five months later he wakes up in a hospital room with two other patients who are hooked up to beeping machines and look like they’ve been asleep for years. He checks his chart and doesn’t really understand most of it but he’s taken enough classes with pre-med students to know that he had a fatal wound that healed miraculously, and he had a lot of heart attacks. A frightening number of heart attacks.
He scans through his admitting data; he was listed as a John Doe for a while, and then finally his record was updated with his name. He wonders how long it took his parents to look for him.
Then he sees the emergency contact information, and he’s lost. He’s never heard of a Joe West before - his father’s name is Rudy, and his mother is Mary. He’s never met his grandparents, and his parents don’t have siblings. It’s just the three of them. They are the West family. Wally finds a pen, writes down Joe’s phone number, and sneaks out of the room to find some clothes and get himself released.
“Wally?”
The nurses hadn’t let him leave by himself; they kept pestering him to call his emergency contact, let him know that Wally woke up. Wally didn’t want them to but, at the same time, he is curious. He wants to know his grandfather. Or uncle. Or cousin, possibly.
Wally looks up and sees an older man, white shirt, dark skin, dark beard streaked with gray. “Yeah?”
“Hi there, son,” the man who must be Joe says. “I’m your uncle.”
Wally nods. Makes sense. “Why are you my emergency contact?” he asks, because patience really never was one of his strong suits. “Did my dad need to use your insurance or something?”
Joe smiles, but it’s sad and small and Wally knows what he’s going to say before it even comes out of his mouth. “Wally,” he starts, “your parents were in a building that was demolished in the wake of the second explosion. I got the call about your dad and your mom and then I scoured every hospital in the city for someone matching your description.”
His breathing speeds up and his heart is beating monstrously fast and he thinks he’s having another heart attack. The lights in the waiting room flicker, and Joe looks up before looking back down at him, eyebrow raised. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Wally lies. “Yeah. I, uh, thanks. For finding me. Once we tell the nurses you’re here, we can leave and you’ll never have to worry about me again.” He knows this is what his father would want to hear, if he’d had to shoulder hospital costs that must be off the charts. “I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve-”
“Kid,” Joe says. “You’re coming to live with me. I’ve got room, and you’re family.”
Wally looks up at him, and wonders what family means to Joe West. If Joe is the type of person that cherishes his family, that cares for them. The kind that would move his son into college, if he has one. Or if growing up together warped his father and his uncle in the same ways, and family is just an obligation that has to be dealt with every once in a while.
His stuff from college was moved into the house already. “I’ve set you up in the guest room,” Joe says. “But don’t think of it as the guest room. It’s your room, now. Up the stairs, third door on the left.”
Wally nods, and glances around the living room. He sees pictures of a girl growing up, and she’s beautiful. She looks like Joe, a little, in the eyes, and it must be his daughter, the Iris that Joe talked about on the way back to his house. There’s also a boy, white and tall and gangly, and he thinks that must be Iris’s boyfriend. They must’ve been dating for a long time, Wally thinks. There are a lot of pictures of him. But Wally doesn’t see any of Joe’s son, Barry, which is weird. But whatever; maybe, like his parents, Joe and Barry have a rocky relationship.
But then he walks past the two rooms on his floor and glances inside of them too; one is definitely Iris’ (books and deep purples and amazing art on the walls), and one must be Barry’s (textbooks and clothes everywhere and a poster of the Big Bang Theory, which could’ve been the reason Joe removed all pictures of him, out of shame).
Then he sees his own, and he immediately knows Iris decorated this for him. He doesn’t know how, but it reminds him of her, of her room; clean and neat and orderly, everything in just the right place. She’d even put up a poster of the Periodic Table (probably donated by Barry, if the look of wear and tear was anything to go by) and one of the Flash. She must have seen some of his T Shirts and notebooks, all with the Flash logo on it.
He sits down on the bed and, his hands shaking, realizes that this is his home, now.
He wakes up and hears voices downstairs, and wonders how long he’s been asleep. Have days of his life passed again? It takes him a long second to place exactly where he is and how he got there. His parents are dead. Right. He has an uncle. This is Joe’s house.
“What do you think his favorite food is?” a female asks. “Do you think he’d want a basic mac and cheese? Oh, wait, he’s been living off of IV nutrients, he’ll probably want something that tastes good.”
“Or you could ask him,” Joe says.
He stands up and rubs at his eyes. Only two hours. “Daddy,” the woman says, and it must be Iris, “he’s asleep. I’m not going to wake him up.”
Wally silently walks out of his room and down the stairs, getting closer and closer to the voices. They keep arguing about food and him and whether it’s too much for Iris to make him a first meal. “I’m not that picky of an eater,” Wally says when he finally reaches the kitchen, and Iris jumps.
“Oh my god,” she says as she turns, a hand over her heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean to sneak up.”
She smiles, and the room lights up with her, and Wally has an overwhelming urge to give her a hug and tell her about all of his problems. “Don’t apologize, Wally,” she says. “I’m happy to finally see you up and walking around.”
Then she comes over and hugs him. It’s quick but fierce, and he smiles for the first time since he woke up. “So you’re my cousin,” he says when she pulls away.
“I am,” Iris says. “Iris West. Nice to meet you.”
“Wally West. And likewise.”
They fall into an easy rhythm together, the three of them. Iris is the center, and she laughs and talks and reminds Wally of the good nights with his family, of movies and popcorn and mini-golf. He sees how Joe cares for her with every glance, and it amazes them how they are a family, just the two of them. It’s nice to watch, and Wally feels better, but he still feels like an interloper in the intimate moments of this West family. He wonders if he will ever fit in with them, ever feel like he is family and not an outsider.
Iris touches his shoulder, and yelps a little when she gets a static shock. She looks down at her fingertips then at him, and then at Joe. They don’t say a word about it as they go on making dinner.
Barry is not Joe’s son at all, and is in fact the tall white boy Wally assumed was Iris’ boyfriend. Which is something he, apparently, is not supposed to say, because when he points it out they both blush and deny it quickly.
Iris is the sister Wally never had, the sibling that he always wanted. Someone who can make him laugh and also piss him off royally in seconds. They argue over silly things (Wally, as it turns out, is the only other person in the family who likes brownies with the same fervor as Iris, but he likes his gooey and fudgy and she likes the crispy edges because she is weird) and listen to similar music and have a completely different viewpoint on movies. She’s brilliant, and the first time Wally realizes she writes Saved by the Flash (which he read religiously since he found it) he feels immensely proud that he knows her. This is Iris, he thinks when he gets a new notification that an update is posted. I know her. She’s my cousin.
Joe is strict and respectable and he cares so deeply, which bothers Wally at first. When Wally offhandedly mentioned something to Iris about going back to school to finish his bachelors, Joe’s head whipped up so fast Wally thought he was going to start yelling about how it’s too much money, and he’s already cost them too much to even think about it. Wally flinched.
“Do you really want to go back, kid?” Joe asks. “We can get you enrolled in the spring semester, to finish up your classes.”
“Uh, really?” Wally asks.
“Uh, duh,” Iris says, and hits him on the arm.
Wally frowns. “I don’t know if I can get my financial aid back,” he confesses, and waits for the storm.
Iris laughs. “Don’t worry, I’ll got down there with you and talk to them. I’m very persuasive, when I want to be.”
“And if she can’t get it back, I’ll cover it,” Joe says.
Wally shakes his head. “I can’t ask you to do that,” he says. “You already covered my hospital bills. I can’t take more from you. College is too much. I’ll take out loans, or something.”
Joe smiles. “I want to, Wally.” Wally must’ve looked like a ghost, because Joe glances over at Iris. “I mean, I covered her tuition to get a bachelors in psychology with a minor in sociology. At least your degree will be useful.”
“Dad!” Iris says, and makes a face. Wally’s desire to cry passes quickly, and he laughs, too. He’s glad that out of all of the families in the world, he is related to this one.
“You don’t have to talk about it, you know,” Iris says one day when they’re at the grocery store. “But if you ever want to, I will listen.”
Wally puts down the can of stewed tomatoes. “Talk about what?” he asks. But he already knows; she saw the way that he froze in the aisle when a father started yelling at his kid, started threatening him in a low voice to shut up and behave or else he’d have to learn respect again.
“About what it’s like to lose both your parents,” Iris says lightly. She pushes the cart down the aisle and he trails after her, helping her grab things off of the highest shelf. She is trying to be nonchalant about it, trying not to make a big deal. “Or about your parents, at all. You haven’t said anything about them in the three months you’ve been here.”
Wally’s heart starts to speed up, and time slows down around him. Iris isn’t moving anymore, so he takes the list out of her hand and goes to grab the items for her, finishing their shopping trip before she even realizes he’s gone.
This happens more often, now; he feels himself speeding up while the rest of the world stays the same pace. He doesn’t know what’s going on or why it’s happening, but he doesn’t want to tell Iris or Joe for fear that they would think he was a freak and kick him out. Iris might like the Flash from afar, but if she knew someone like him in real life? Outside of the costume? She would scream.
He couldn’t lose his family. Not now, after he finally found people who love him and accept him and make him feel like he’s home.
And it only happens when someone mentions his parents. As long as he avoids the subject, he’ll be fine.
Wally finishes and puts the list back, settling back to the position he was in before time slowed down. A few seconds have gone past, and Iris started to look down at her empty hand, but by the time his heart slows down enough the list is back and her cart is full.
“Oh,” she says and shrugs as she moves hair he’d accidentally blown into her face behind her ear. “I guess we’re done.”
He wonders why she never freaks out when things magically appear, when he helps her in those milliseconds before she realizes. But then he thinks about the Flash, and wonders if that’s how the Flash repays her for all of the nice things she writes about him. Maybe the Flash is grateful for Iris, too.
Iris is the first to find out about his abilities. She sees him appear in a gust of wind on their back porch, and he is so shocked when she doesn’t scream or yell or cry.
“I know someone,” Iris says, “that I think you should talk to.”
“You know the Flash,” he guesses, and she is taken aback. “I figured you had to. I mean, I’ve been helping you out for weeks and you’re never surprised.”
“That was you?” she says, and then she sighs and looks oddly relieved. “Oh thank god. I thought he was trying to apologize to me by doing errands, or he was trying to relieve his own guilt by helping me.”
Wally just stares at her.
“Give me a second, okay?” she says. She calls someone, and tells them it’s an emergency and to meet her at home immediately. She puts the phone down.
There’s a gust of wind and suddenly Barry is there, his eyes only on Iris. “Are you okay?” he asks, looking her over. “What’s the emergency? I…”
“It’s not her,” Wally says.
Barry realizes Wally is standing in the room with them, then, and he looks between the two West cousins. “What is this?” Barry demands. “What’s wrong, Iris?”
“I think the two of you need to talk,” Iris says. “Wally is, uh, well…”
He concentrates and wills himself to move faster, and in a flash he’s on the other side of the room. “He’s like me,” Barry realizes. “He’s exactly like me.”
Iris nods, and Wally is worried for a second before Barry grins. Maybe, he thinks, he was meant to find this family. Maybe, Wally thinks, he was always destined to be part of it.