Chapter Text
OK. There are two things Barry remembers about his childhood.
First, he remembers being with his father. Henry would get this far-off look in his eye and he would say, 'son, life doesn't always turn out the way you plan.' Barry only wishes that at the time, he'd realized that his dad was talking about Barry's life.
His dad was his only role model. He looked up to him. Henry raised him by himself after his mother passed away, but that never stopped them from taking their adventures together. Barry fondly remembers how his dad would pack up their sometimes-working car, and he would tell Barry amazing stories about strange and exotic lands as they headed off to exciting destinations like... Milwaukee. It's amazing how exotic Wisconsin... isn't.
The second thing he remembers are the stories Henry would tell him about his mom, Nora. Henry would take him to the church where they got married, and Barry would beg him to tell him more about the ceremony and about his crazy uncle Jay who fell asleep on the macaroni and cheese.
He once asked his father, when he knew that he truly loved his mother.
And Henry said to him, 'Barry. Your mother gave me a special gift. She gave me the world.'
Actually it was a globe with a light in it. But, Henry was always a romantic. And for the romantic that he was, it might as well have been the world.
*
The first time Barry saw her — well she didn't exactly give him the world. It was a $1.50 for a train token. And she was just perfect. Her hair shone like the beams of sunlight that would hit her every morning as she made her way up his booth to pay for her token.
Winter mornings in Central City are mostly the same, day by day. Wake up in chill darkness, work all day, come home in chill darkness. Next day, the same. It's a dull job, working at the counter of the train station, and one where you don't see a lot of sunshine. Except when she comes. Barry's dream girl.
OK, so he doesn't know her name, he's never even talked to her ever since she started coming around his booth between 8:01 and 8:15 every morning, Monday through Friday, dressed sharply in her expensive-looking coats and business suits.
They've never actually spoken. But he knows someday they will. He knows it. He just knows it.
Truth is that the dream girl is only the second woman that Barry has ever loved in his life, not counting his mother. He's more... experienced... with men. He's only had sex with one woman in his life and that relationship ended... tumultuously. But he's sure that that won't matter to his dream girl.
He knows someday he will find a way to introduce himself, and it'll be perfect. Just like in his dreams.
*
For now though, Barry settles living in his apartment on his own. With both his parents now passed on, he always finds himself alone for the holiday season like Thanksgiving and Christmas. And sure, he would love to have some family around, but he's used to being alone now. Certainly saves him from having to fight with someone.
God, he's painting a very sad picture of himself here, isn't he? Well, his life isn't so bad.
He has a cat, for starters. The cat's name is Alpine. She's all white with blue eyes, a small pink nose, and the weighty judgmental stare of all cats. She had been a gift for Iris originally, until Iris decided litter boxes were simply too repulsive and gave her back. She's still technically Iris's cat, really, only she lives here. She's kinda unfriendly — hisses a lot — but if Barry feeds her Fancy Feast, she'll rub up against his legs and purr, so he thinks she might actually like him.
He also has an apartment; rented, but all to himself none the less. It's small, fit for one person, and more importantly it's quiet. All of his neighbors are friendly and they know who he is.
And even though he doesn't have a family, he does have friends. Pretty good ones. He has a job that gives him a lot of overtime, which is letting him save for his first trip abroad.
See, he's happy.
Sorta.
If only the delivery guys were just as great as his neighbors in delivering his Christmas tree. They had left it down below and insisted they couldn't fit it through the door and carry it up the stairs to his apartment. So, Barry did the next best thing he could think of. Tie a rope around it and pull it up through his window himself. Easy peasy, right?
"Mmmph!" Barry finds himself propped up on his knees, right on his couch, while he yanks on the rope. Alpine observes. It isn't a tall tree, but it is a heavy one.
"Forty-five dollars for a Christmas tree and they don't deliver? You order five dollars of Mr. Wong's, they bring it to your door." He complains to his cat more than complaining to himself. He pulls on the rope, giving it a hard tug before rising up from the couch and taking a step back.
"Ugh!" He takes another step back. "I should have gotten a blue spruce. They're lighter." Taking one more step backward, his foot steps on his rug, which causes the rug to slide, bumping into the wall and causing Barry to fall butt first onto the floor. As he falls the rope slips right out of his hands.
"Aah! Ooh. Shit."
The next thing he hears is the scraping of the rope against his window ledge, followed by a crashing sound and busting of glass.
"Barry!" A female voice shouts out in the distance, the exasperated tone causing Barry to shut his eyes tight and wince.
Opening one eye first, he glances at his cat, who stares. "Do you think I should go down there?" Barry asks Alpine, hearing her meow in response. "Yeah, I know." He sighs to himself, and heads down to his landlord's apartment to face the music.
*
Debbie Dibny's apartment is below all the other apartments. Everyone is on a first name basis with her. She has terrible taste in boyfriends and her son Ralph isn't the brightest tool in the shed, but Debbie has a kind heart. Her apartment is always very festive with Christmas decorations, now adding Barry's tree sticking through her window to the list.
"Nature of claim: Christmas tree through window." Debbie shakes her head. "How am I going to put that on my insurance? They're still pissed about the fire we had when Ralph barbecued in the stairwell."
"I missed that one," Barry says.
"Oh, great sausages." The older woman chuckles, shaking her head.
"Look, I-I'll pay for this," Barry offers bravely, motioning toward the broken window. There go his vacation fund.
"It's OK, Barry." Debbie shakes her head. "I have a brother who's in the glass business."
"Oh, I almost forgot," Barry digs inside his sweater sleeve, which is big enough to hide the wrapped up present Barry had bought her. It's a bottle of perfume. "Merry Christmas." He smiles, setting the gift in front of her.
Debbie reaches for the gift, a smile stretched out on her lips. "You didn't have to do that."
"Well, I wanted to." As far as landlords go, Debbie is really decent. Ralph's dad took off when Ralph was little and Debbie knows what it's like to be down on your luck. She took Barry in when he was pretty much broke and Barry will forever be grateful to her for that.
"I haven't even gone through my shopping yet," Debbie says, blushing in embarrassment.
She probably hadn't planned on giving him a gift at all, but that's alright. Barry smiles and shrugs slightly and does his best not to gag at the stench of Axe body spray as Ralph swaggers in. It's like he bathes in that shit.
He's wearing a white, stained, wife beater and skinny jeans that could have belonged to a fifteen year old. Ralph is harmless enough, but sometimes his definition of personal space is a little different to others.
"Hey, Ma! Do you think I can have that bottle of Jack Daniel's so that I can give it to my probation officer?"
"Can't you see we have some company?" Debbie admonishes her ignorant son. "Say hello."
"Hey, Barry. Nice, uh..." Ralph surveys Barry, standing there at the doorway in a giant, faded grey sweater and baggy jeans. "Sweater." Ralph finishes lamely.
"Thanks." Barry smiles and tries to duck out before Ralph can make a move on him.
"The bottle's over there." Ralph goes to the liquor cabinet, bending over and revealing his plumber's crack. Debbie follows Barry to the doorway, shaking her head.
"Barry, you're a nice boy. My Ralphy's still single." Debbie says with a hopeful smile as she opens the door for him. Ever since she found out that Barry's bisexual she's been obsessed with pawning her son off on him.
"Yeah, it's a shocker." Barry says laughingly, eyeing Ralph's crack.
He gives Debbie a friendly squeeze on the arm before retreating. He doesn't want to hurt her feelings, but there's no way he would ever agree to date Ralph. Even he's not that desperate.
Through the half-opened door, he hears a smacking noise, and then Ralph exclaiming, "Ow- hey!"
"Why do you always have to look like a slob around him" Barry hears Debbie complain exasperatedly. "He's a classy guy!"
"I'm sorry, Ma," Barry hears Ralph whine before the door finally closes down on them.
*
The next day finds him at his usual hot dog stand. The vendor eyes him with a bored look and asks, "What are you having?"
Barry tilts his head at the man who should probably know his face by now. "Oh, the usual."
"What's that?" the vendor asks impatiently.
"For real?" Unbelievable. He comes to this spot all the time, meeting up with his boss, and this guy can't even remember his usual order. "Uh, mustard, coke."
The vendor rolls his eyes and proceeds to make his order.
"Barry!" Joe — Barry's boss — beams as he walks up to him, wearing his trench coat and matching hat. "Barry, Barry, Barry!"
"Hey, Joe.” Barry smiles. He likes Joe — he was one of his dad's patients. He came to Henry's funeral to pay his respects and told Barry to call him if he ever needed anything. most people who say that don't mean it, but not Joe. They struck up a friendship and, when Joe noticed how hard he was struggling, he offered him a job.
"I'm glad to find you here." Joe sounds way too chipper today. Barry raises an eyebrow skeptically.
"I was hoping you'd find me in Bermuda," he jokes.
"Bermuda?" Joe chuckles. "That's a good one. Listen, Barr, I am recommending you for employee of the month!" He smiles brightly at Barry before turning to the vendor. "The usual."
"Really? I didn’t know there was an employee of the month," Barry says, scowling at the vendor who handed Joe his food with no fuss.
"Oh, yeah!" Joe digs into his coat pocket and take out a typed up letter, before reading out loud, "Supervisor Joseph West is nominating Bartholomew Allen for employee of the month. Bartholomew is never tardy, always works the holidays even if he has worked the previous holiday. Even though he's worked Thanksgiving, Barry is still willing to work Christmas too?" Joe asks, looking up from his paper hopefully.
Barry's face falls. "No way, Joe. I'm not working Christmas," he states, taking his hot-dog and walking away. Ugh, the vendor couldn't even get his order right. Unbelievable.
"Uh-" Joe rushes off to catch up to Barry. "You get a nice plaque with the mayor's stamp on it."
"I didn't vote," Barry claims, picking out the soggy pieces of tomatoes with a grimace.
"You get to ride on a float on St. Patty's day."
"I hate parades."
"Did I mention extra holiday pay?"
"I hate you." He bites off a piece of his hot-dog. Joe's not playing fair; he knows how much Barry needs the money.
A large portion of his income still goes toward the student loan bills he's been paying (and will be, it feels like) forever. His monthly payment is almost more than his rent. It doesn't afford very many luxuries.
"Barr." Joe steps in front of him, an apologetic look on his face. "Look, I'm sorry. I really am. But, Kara has Covid and Cisco can't switch because he has this big family thing. And I promised the kids I'd be there for them this year."
Barry's lips curve into a sardonic smile as he looks down at his feet. Leave it to him to make it easier on Iris to announce to her father that she's engaged to Eddie — something he knows she's been building up to for a while, and she probably won't ever find a better time than when Joe's belly is full of food and his spirit full of Christmas cheer. But just because Barry and Iris agreed to stay friends doesn't mean he has to play Cupid for her and her goddamn boyfriend.
Eddie doesn't care for Barry because Barry is a total asshole to him pretty much all the time. He can't help it. Eddie is just the kind of guy that it's impossible not to dislike because he's basically perfect, a robot made in a lab specifically for girls like Iris West.
Eddie is four years older, a decorated detective with CCPD, with an entire clan of filthy rich relatives WASPing around over in Connecticut. For him and Iris, it was love at first sight. They met after Eddie chased down a thief who'd stolen her laptop, triumphantly handing it back to her like he was some sort of superhero, or a knight in shining armor.
Not to mention Eddie is polite, thoughtful, good-looking, and athletic. He volunteers with underprivileged children in his spare time. His favorite hobby is kayaking. He spent a year in the Peace Corps. Barry absolutely, unreservedly hates him.
"It stinks, Joe."
"I know it isn't fair and I can't make you do it. But, Barr, you're the only one..."
"Without a family," Barry grumbles, rolling his eyes. Wow, saying that out loud somehow makes him feel even more alone.
Joe's right, it's really not fair. But when has life ever been fair to him?
*
This is shaping up to be the most depressing Christmas he's ever had.
He really tried to make the best of it. This morning, on his way to work, he scrolled through the Spotify app, looking for nice Christmas songs lists to put him in the mood. In the end he settled for 'Vintage Christmas'. Andy Williams singing 'It's the most wonderful time of the year'.
Usually, Barry would agree, is the thing. He loves Christmastime. He just wishes he had someone to celebrate with. Someone to exchange gifts with, to make Christmas dinner with, to kiss under the mistletoe or make love to under the Christmas tree.
Instead, all he's got to go home to is Iris's stupid cat.
Working at the train station is always an interesting place to people-watch. Today, however, it only seems to worsen his mood. Barry sits in his ticket booth, his eyes drinking in a couple with their two kids making their way toward his booth before paying and passing on to a board the next train. He sighs heavily. He is never going to have a family of his own.
"Hi."
A feminine voice breaks through his dark thoughts, and he nearly jumps out of his skin to see his dream girl standing at the counter, as if appearing out of nowhere. Her eyes are trained right on him, her pearly white smile flashing before him. She's wearing a yellow wool coat today, which has the effect of making her look even more radiant than usual. Her brown purse, made of the finest leather, hangs over her shoulder. He is struck again by her flawless complexion, the perfect backdrop for her luminous blue eyes.
All Barry can do is gawk with his mouth practically hanging open. He's spent an inordinate amount of time trying to analyze what it is about her that has such a powerful effect on him. He knows it's a bit creepy, to obsess like this over a woman he doesn't know. He's tried really hard to forget about her, go on dates, live his life. But all it takes is for his dream girl to give him one of her cryptic smiles and his heart is exposed again for all the world to see. He knows in that moment that his life has been irrevocably altered. And he doesn't care. He'd give up everything for this feeling.
It's like the anticipation he used to feel in the hours before a big track meet, everything humming with nervous excitement. It's like unlocking one of the secrets of the universe. It's like discovering a new color or a new taste. It's like he'd been dead for twenty-six years and now he's alive. Like he's been sleepwalking all his life and now he's wide awake. The moment she makes eye contact with him it all makes sense. All of it, the sweats, the heart palpitations, the light-headedness. Cheesy love songs. Tacky Valentine's Day Teddy Bears holding heart-shaped cushions. Everything.
"Merry Christmas." She smiles again, taking her token and making her way toward the platform of the train, her chestnut curls bouncing in time with the click-clack of her heels.
Reality crashes into him with a seize of panic in his chest. He opens his mouth to call out to her, but his voice dies in his throat with a depressing little whine. He tries to choke back a lump of disappointment.
"Urgh..." Barry closes his eyes, smacking himself across the forehead. "Nice coat? Merry Christmas to you, too?" He shakes his head. "You're beautiful. Will you marry me? I love you. Please let me spend the rest of my life with you." OK, he can't tell her that. Not unless her wants her to slap him with a not-totally-undeserved restraining order. But still, he could've said something.
He groans, his head banging against his table top repeatedly, grunting in frustration.
This was his chance, and he blew it. What else is new?
"Hey. Nice coat."
Barry looks up, startled to hear his own words repeated in such a lecherous tone. A man and his companion have begun to circle her, one of them even yanking on her scarf.
Oh God, Barry thinks, his entire body freezing.
The woman is holding her own, however. She's pointedly ignoring them, her face pale, her chin arrogantly tilted.
"Can you spare a buck?" The second man asks. "It's Christmas."
It's not the first time someone's tried to swindle a few bucks out of the people waiting on the platform for their train, probably not even the first time today if he's honest, but something about these men is setting off warning bells in Barry's head.
Several tension-filled seconds tick by. Then, the woman gives a derisive and resounding sniff and reaches inside her purse to hand them a few dollars.
"C'mon, we know you have more."
It's clear that the woman has made a tactical error by acknowledging their existence. She seems to recognize that at the same time as Barry does, and tries to back away, but they're crowding her against the edge of the platform and there's no room.
"Look, I don't want any trouble."
Barry doesn't allow himself any time to think, he just reacts. His sneakers hit the floor as he slides down from his stool, already moving by the time one of the men tries to snatch her purse.
"Oh!" She violently pushes the man away, but in the struggle that ensues her heel slips and she falls backwards onto the rails.
"Shit!"
"Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" one of the men shouts, running away as Barry sprints towards the woman. Without a second thought, he jumps into the tracks, kneeling and bending down beside her. She's draped across the rail, not moving.
"Somebody help me, please!" He looks around at the empty platform, quickly looking back down at an unconscious woman. "Miss? Miss? Miss? Are you OK? Can, can you get up? God, this is not good."
Surely she can't be dead, can she? Barry's heart is in his throat. Hurriedly he presses his fingers to her pulse point, and to his amazement and relief, a slight pulse beats in her neck.
"Oh, thank God you're alive. Now, please, Miss, you have to get up."
The honk of the 8:12 a.m. train is deafening, and panicked eyes look up to see the next train coming their way, right on their platform as the whistle blows loudly.
"Oh, God... Miss! Miss! Oh, please wake up. Please." He runs his fingers through her hair. The curls are as soft as they look between Barry's fingers. "There's a train coming and it's fast! It's an express!" He taps her cheek as hard as he dares, but she's not waking up.
He can hear a woman talking on the phone, reporting the incident, he can hear a man shouting at him to get up. But he can't — he can't lift her, he tries but she's dead weight and his hands are shaking too much, he doesn't have the upper body strength and the train is coming. There's no time.
No way would he just leave her there. No way.
The next thing he knows, he's rolling her body along with his own away from the platform, hearing the screech of the brakes rattles and shakes in his skull as the train passes them by.
"Is she dead?" someone above calls down to him.
The woman's limp body is in the crook of his arm, unconscious. Barry's teeth are chattering too much to answer, adrenaline and fear screaming silently through his veins.
Eventually his body stops shivering and some sensation returns to his limbs. He leans closer, trying to feel her breath underneath him and catches a scent of her perfume. "Oh God, you smell good," he babbles nonsensically, light-headed with relief. He can feel her heart beating next to his chest, the sweet and delicate scent of her perfume filling his nostrils. He grips her as tightly as he can, terrified that she might still slip away.
"She's alive," he calls out, closing his eyes in a fervent prayer of thanks. "We need an ambulance."
"It's on it's way."
As his brain slowly starts coming back online, he begins to worry that he might be crushing her. He shuffles around, trying to get up on shaky knees, and is struck dumb when he catches a glimpse of the woman's eyes as they look up at him. His heart flips like a landed fish.
"Hi," Barry whispers, filled with wonder and amazement that she's alive, that she's here with him, in his arms. His eyes ache with the effort of trying to take in her beauty.
She searches his face with something soft and solemn, the paleness in her cheeks making her eyes bluer than ever. His princess charming, waking up from her deep slumber. They lock eyes, and Barry feels light headed with the certainty that her thoughts are a mirror of his own. She opens her mouth, as if to speak, and Barry thinks: this is it. This is what forever feels like, what it feels like to be with the person you were meant to find.
But before his sleeping beauty has the chance to utter a word, her eyes roll back in her head, and she blacks out again.