Chapter Text
Before Joe West brought his daughter Iris to the Allen’s house a week ago, he teased that he was going to bring her back a gift from the capitol, "something that will keep you busy in the future," were his exact words. Both Iris and her best friend Barry Allen were sure he meant a sword since Iris was never shy about sharing her aspirations of becoming a brave knight who went on grand adventures like the ones detailed in the books she read. She always imagined her father having a similar experience when he was younger and serving in the king’s guard.
It was because of Joe's experience as a guard that he was the town’s designated liaison to the capitol. When someone needed to get to the capitol or needed anything from the capitol expeditiously and did not want to bother waiting for the standard coach, they depended on Joe to take them there.
Their town was on the south side of the mountain range that split the nation in half, nestled somewhere near the bosom of the two highest mountains. They were surrounded by a thick forest. The capitol rested on the other side of the mountains. The trip to the capitol would be a quick one if they could just pass through the north valley between those mountains, but dangers lurked in the northern woods. It was cursed, the rumors told. As one travelled deeper towards the valley, they would notice how the trees would gradually grow larger until they were as wide as silos. There were monsters of unspeakable strength, streams that were innocent at the surface but deceptively deep and torrential. The only people who dared to enter the woods were criminals and the hopeless, never to reemerge to tell their tales.
(“Then how does anyone know about the trees and the monsters if no one's ever r'merged?” Iris had asked. He just smiled at her cleverness.)
It would be a long but easier trip to take the standard coach that traveled further south to reach the royal road that edged around the entire mountain range to reach the capitol. That trip would take five days. Instead, Joe took a cart around the ridges of the west mountain managing the trek in two days, depending on the weather. It was not an easy trip, but if anyone in town could do it, it was Joe West.
On average the town would commission Joe’s service at least once a month. Sometimes he was accompanied by his friend Fred Chyre, and they would take a cart with some passengers and/or townspeople's requests to the capitol. Iris stayed with the Allen’s until he came back.
The week was up. It was already the seventh day and the sun was inching closer to the horizon. Iris and Barry had moved themselves outdoors to wait for her father (and because Nora Allen needed them out of the kitchen while she prepared for supper). Sprawled on the dry grass, the two children wondered aloud if her father was really going to buy her a sword.
Iris was nearly balding the yard, restless in her excitement. To distract her, or at least put her pent up energy to better use, Barry mentioned playing swords. It was something they always ended up doing.
They sniped away at each other with sticks in hand. Both barely nine years old, they were roughly the same size and evenly matched. While Iris was forceful with the stick, Barry was quick and skilled at running away. As per usual, this session ended when Iris eventually cornered him. He dropped his stick and bowed over, clutching his reddened hand, and Iris knelt beside him, holding his hand and examining his knuckles. They weren’t bleeding, she didn’t have that kind of strength, but they were still red and throbbing. She rubbed his forearm comfortingly.
"I'm sorry, Bear!" she always said at the end of their sessions and she always meant it. Her enthusiasm still got the better of her.
Barry stopped moaning, and his face was as red as his hand. He was always so embarrassed when Iris held his hand, but that only made her want to do it more.
At the sound of someone clearing their throat, Iris' head shot up and she launched herself at the familiar figure standing at the gate.
Her father spun her around with a chuckle before he disentangled himself from Iris' arms. He flipped his bag off his shoulder and knelt down before opening it.
Iris was bouncing on the tips of her toes. "Is that my present?" she asked.
"It is," he said with a smile, but as soon as he lifted a small brown parcel from his bag, Iris' face fell. That was too small and too square to be a sword. She took the rectangular gift from him anyway.
"What is it?"
"There's only one way to find out."
She tore the parchment away to reveal a hardbound leather book with a simple gold-embossed square design on the front. Her father leafed through it, showing her the blank pages. "It's a diary," he started to explain when she had said nothing, as if she just didn't realize what it was. "I thought that since you're planning on having many adventures that maybe you'd want to write them down. I also got you a fancy pen to go with it."
"Oh," Iris responded quietly before shooting him a tight smile but it felt more like a frown. Her whimper did not mask her disappointment, and she guilt immediately seized her chest. She tried to make up for it with a small, "Thank you."
"We thought you were going to get her a sword," Barry piped up from behind Iris. She shot him a stern look and Barry began to stammer, "I-I mean... My mother's cooking supper and you're welcome to join us!"
Her father gently pat Barry on the head before popping inside the house to thank Barry's mother. As her father walked towards the house, Iris hip-checked Barry for opening his big mouth before retreating further into the garden with her gift. She tried to admire the workmanship that went into the creation of the diary, and tried ignoring the disappointment that the pen her father purchased for her was not as mighty as the sword she had imagined him buying.
For a while, Barry orbited around her, wandering awkwardly whilst swinging his stick at nothing in particular until finally Iris sighed loudly and obviously and patted the grass next to her. As soon as he took a seat, he blurted an apology for blabbing, and she apologized for shoving him.
The Wests ended up staying for dinner. Everyone filled themselves heartily with the roast beef and potatoes that Nora prepared, sopping up the juices with the buttery rolls that both Iris and Barry helped kneed shortly before they were shooed from the kitchen.
The moon was the remaining source of light outside by the time Iris and her father left the Allen's house hand in hand.
"I can return it and get you something better," her father said. When she stared at him, he nodded at the diary in her other hand. "If you want."
"No," Iris said quickly, clutching the diary to her chest. She felt like a horrible daughter, not appreciating the gift as she should have. "I like it. Really, I do."
She smiled at him, hoping that her eyes reflected an earnest apology for her reaction earlier. He smiled back and swung her hand in his. "I hoped you would."
- - -
Over a year later, a tragedy occurred.
Iris was fast asleep when fists pounded against the West's front door and several men from town pleaded for Joe's help. A fire started at the edge of the woods and it had to be contained before it set the whole forest ablaze and they had to prevent it from spreading to the town. Henry Allen was also alerted, and the men assembled lines to pass buckets of water to the fire.
Nora and Barry stood at the front of their property, watching from afar the efforts to put out the fire. Soon enough it seemed like the heavens heard of their troubles and took pity on the townspeople. The clouds beget rain, and with rain brought thunder and lightning soon after. The rain suppressed the fire. Thunder drowned at the relieved cheers of the townsfolk. Lightning struck the metal gate that Nora and Barry were leaning on. Nora died, and miraculously Barry survived.
When the men returned from the edge of the wood, their jobs finished by Mother Nature, none had noticed Henry's absence. Instead, they all rallied toward the Allen residence when they heard the cries of the young, orphaned Barry.
- - -
Iris knew she was going to grow up with Barry. She didn’t quite expect it to happen in the same household.
The experience was filled with growing pains.
She remembered the first time her father had scolded her loudly in front of Barry, how hot her face got with embarrassment and shame. She didn’t quite know what do to when Barry and her father got into a shouting match at first but after a while always ended up sneaking into Barry’s room to read books together.
Joe was overwhelmed, having to look after two children now and without a sitter to look after them when he had to make trips to the capitol. He took the two of them with him until they were old enough to stay at home by themselves for a week, and being kids they never made it easy for him.
Eventually, Fred took over the business and Joe struggled to juggle several odd jobs. But one way or another, the family managed to make things work, and Joe became the town’s constable.
When Barry began to show signs of super speed at age eleven, Joe begged him and Iris to keep it secret. Supernatural things indeed existed, especially near the woods, but they were rare and not well received unless you were an advisor to the royal family. Even then, the royal family having a wizard for an advisor was just a rumor. The stories of the woods did nothing to help the reputation of the peculiar and the strange, and Joe didn't want that for Barry.
That was also the year when Joe crushed his daughter’s dream when he broke the news that Iris would not become a knight. He said it wasn’t practical nowadays. She had to get her head out of the clouds, to come up with a better future for herself. He'd be damned if he let his daughter die in any fight, he shouted.
Iris refused to speak for a while, not to her father and not even to Barry.
That night she ended up lying on her back on the floor of her room, wallowing in the death of her hopes about her future, and letting the tears flow down her temples and into her hair and sometimes her ears. The cold air hitting her wet skin was starting to irritate her, but she petulantly refused to wipe her tears away, defiant, hoping they would stain her face so her father could look at her and see how he destroyed her dreams.
She rolled onto her side and stared at the contents underneath her bed. There were several dusty books, wooden swords, and a stuffed bear she thought she lost several years ago. Underneath it all laid the diary that her father bought for her from the capitol. She grabbed it and wiped off the dust with her sleeve. The gold emboss still shone. She never wrote in it, and the leather still smelled new even after all those years it hid under her bed.
Iris couldn't find the pen it came with, so she grabbed a pencil from her book bag. Quietly, she tiptoed across the hall to Barry's room.
He was still awake, lying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling. The door made a small squeak as Iris closed it behind her, and Barry sat up wordlessly. He already reserved space next to him, expecting her presence, and Iris took a seat beside him.
She opened the diary and wrote, "I'm mad at you."
She didn't explain why, and passed the diary and pencil to Barry.
"Sorry," he wrote back. Instead of handing it back to her, he paused before continuing, “I doubt I could change his mind.”
He didn’t even try, Iris thought angrily. But she pushed that resentment down. That wasn’t fair to put that onto Barry. As much as they all loved each other, the dynamics in the household was still a delicate thing that they were all figuring out. After every fight with Joe, Barry would feel terribly guilty afterwards and then would have periods where he behaved with extreme politeness to a fault. Even though he never expressed it out loud to Iris, she could tell how he didn’t quite know his place in their new family. Before he lost his parents, he had always treated Joe with familiarity but also with respect. Despite Iris and Joe’s efforts to make him feel more welcome and loved, Barry acted as if he was indentured to Joe for taking him in when he didn’t have to.
Iris’ anger quelled a bit and she sighed audibly. “What do I do now?” She jotted down several question marks.
“Become a doctor. Let’s go to school together,” Barry wrote back. He always wanted to follow his father’s footsteps to become a doctor.
Iris blanched at the thought of studying dead bodies. “No thanks. I can't stomach cadavers.”
Barry chuckled, grabbing the pencil from her and writing, “You won’t be eating them, you’ll be studying them.”
“Ew!” Iris said aloud, smacking him on the arm. Barry just looked pleased that Iris finally spoke. His smile was infectious; she twisted her lips in an attempt to keep scowling. She hissed more quietly, “Shut up. Don’t be gross.”
“Sorry. But did you think you’d never encounter one if you became a knight? You think Joe never saw a dead body before?” Barry looked at her pointedly.
She avoided his gaze. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Dad won’t let me be one, remember?” She sighed, staring ahead. "I wish I was fast like you. Then I could go anywhere I wanted, be whatever I wanted, and no one could catch up to me. No one could tell me what to do."
Barry said nothing, instead picking woolen pills off of his blanket.
She turned to him. "If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?"
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Wherever my dad is, I suppose. But I don’t know where he is.”
Iris felt guilty and insensitive for her question. She took his hand in hers and squeezed.
Barry continued, “I like being here, though, with you and Joe. I’m…” Iris could hear him swallow. “I’m grateful.”
“Barry…” Iris sandwiched his hand between both of hers and began to rub the top of his hand. “You don’t have to be grateful. We love you, you know that, right? We’re family.”
He nodded, then coughed, slipping his hand out of hers to sit up straighter. “How about you? Where would you go?”
“I can’t choose just one place! I’d go everywhere.” She wagged her feet with excitement, thinking about all the possibilities. “But don’t worry, I’d always come back to visit you. Or I’d even bring you with me.”
“What about Joe?”
Iris thought about it. She was still mad about their fight earlier and how he put his foot down on all her swordplay aspirations. But listening to Barry talk about his father with yearning in his voice reminded her how lucky she was that her dad was still there. He could have easily been the one who disappeared in the woods that night. The woods did not discriminate in its victims.
“Yeah,” Iris nodded. “Yes. Of course I’d bring him too.”
- - -