Hi everyone! I started watching The Flash last weekend and I loved it so much that I had already watched the first 20 episodes before Grodd came to town. And then, well, this story happened. It is a WIP and real life is being worse than Reverse Flash at the moment, LOL, so updates will be slow (as all who read my other stories must already know). Also, English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Flash. All rights belong to their respective owners.


It had been a few hours since he had been gotten out of the house, his house, as he kept repeating himself. He still felt too confused to process everything that had happen in just a matter of seconds. Some nights you have nightmares until you wake up, but others the real nightmares occur when you are pretty much awake. And that day had been one of those.

First, he had been beaten by Tom Woodward and the other bullies, and yet his smile had been genuine when his father had called him "slugger" while his mom took care of the bruises. But the demons didn't disappear when he went to bed, if anything the darkness of the night made them stronger, until his parents had calmed him down and had shown him why he didn't have to be afraid of the dark. He had fallen asleep, and when he thought that awful day was finally over, some noises downstairs had woken him up.

After that, everything was still confusing. He had seen water floating in the air as if time had stopped. And then he had seen his mother surrounded by two blurs, one red, one yellow; one of which was in fact a person dressed in yellow…

He closed his eyes when he felt them wet again; every time he felt there was no liquid left in his body it surprised him with more tears coming rapidly out of them. He opened them again when he heard the policeman in front of him clearing his throat. The young boy looked at the officer silently, waiting for him to speak; even though he didn't want to do that, he knew the sooner he was asked about everything, the sooner he could make them understand there had been a misunderstanding.

"It would over soon, kid, I promise"

Even though his words were gentle, his eyes were hard and cold as if they were made of stone. It was, Barry thought, like one of the times he had looked at his father in the eyes while he was working on a case. The doctor's eyes had always looked cold and calm and reflecting no emotion; it was all pure professionalism. Henry Allen wasn't Henry Allen those times, just Doctor Allen (although he switched back to Dad-mode when he realized Barry had been looking at him all the time). That moment, the officer in front of him, with cold and hard eyes and proudly wearing his blue uniform, was just another policeman eager to get the job done.

Barry sighed and wiped the tears from his eyes before giving a slight nod that didn't go unnoticed by the police officer. All he wanted was to reunite with his dad so the two could go back home.

"As you surely have already been told, this is just a mere procedure. You would only have to answer a few questions and then you can go back home"

Barry nodded again. He was ready. As ready as he could be.

"So, Barry, you told Detective West you were in your room at the beginning" Barry nodded again, but the young man said nothing. "Can you please tell me everything that happened?"

"I… uh…" he shook his head when all the images got into his head at the same time at alarming speed. He took some air and tried to calm down, as his mother had taught him, to put order in his thoughts. He didn't quite manage to clear his mind, but it would have to do. "I was asleep when the noises downstairs woke me up"

"What kind of noises?"

"It was like… like the kind of noise crystal makes when it shatters."

The young officer looked at the big mirror behind the kid and nodded. Unknowingly to Barry, the mirror behind him was not a normal one. It was a one-way mirror, which meant that they were not as alone as the young boy thought they were. He knew, and the other policemen at the other side of the room too, that a shattered crystal glass had been found next to Nora Allen's body with some residues of red wine, as well as the pieces of glass of a broken window and of frames of family photos.

"What did you do next?"

"I… I went downstairs. There were these noises and mom was screaming and I was scared…" the tears coming out of his eyes made him stop talking. He wiped them away and bit his lips until he felt the taste of blood in his mouth; he did that every time closing his eyes didn't work to make him stop crying. He noticed the policeman was about to talk, but he spoke first. "And when I got into the living room I saw my mom"

"Was she…?"

"She was alive" he interrupted him furiously, knowing what he was going to ask. His mother had been alive, kneeled on the floor in the middle of a red and yellow circle moving too fast around her. "She told me to leave. And my dad too"

"Your father was there?" the policeman had a serious expression on his face.

"I was already there when he arrived"

"Did he say something?"

Barry nodded.

"What did he say to you?"

"He… He told me to run"

"Did he say something else? Did he threaten you?"

"No, he didn't say anything else, I…"

Barry shook his head. In fact, he didn't know if his father ever told him anything else, because that had been when the other blur, the one who had been fighting the red blur that was the man in yellow, took him out of the house and left him blocks away; when he got back, there was movement around the house, with as many police cars as policemen, and his father was being led by two officers inside a car.

He remembered his father was already cuffed when he saw him. He didn't understood why they were taking him if he hadn't been the murderer… and then he realized what the officer had also asked him.

"My dad didn't kill my mom!"

It seemed something completely obvious. He had seen the man in yellow next to his mom when his father had been next to him feeling completely helpless and unable to save Nora. But those stupid officers had misunderstood all the evidences and had taken the easy way. The man in yellow must have already left the house when the police arrive, and therefore the only person inside who could be blamed for everything was his father. Wrong place, wrong time.

Barry could feel his eyes wet again, tears about to come out. This time, however, not because of the hole in her heart it had caused him having his life shattered to millions of sharp little pieces in just a few minutes. This time he wanted to cry, and scream, and kick the officer in front of him for believing his father had killed his mother. He could see it in his eyes, how he looked at him with his stupid gentle smile, trying to encourage him when he didn't understand a thing. And seeing the officer so calm as if he knew all the answers freaked Barry out even more because he just thought he knew all the answers

"It wasn't my dad!" he repeated. "It wasn't him!"

"Then who was it?"

Barry knew the battle was lost before it had even begun. He felt the hole in his heart getting bigger and bigger as he finally understood his words weren't going to get his father out of prison anytime soon. He finally understood as soon as he heard the officer's question and what the tone beneath it was failing to hide. Still, the young boy was stubborn.

"It wasn't my dad" he repeated. "There was a man with a yellow suit. He was the one who killed my mother. I saw him!"

Before the officer interrogating Barry could reply, the boy turned around when he heard some voices arguing behind him. He saw no one; behind him was just the big mirror. However, not even a minute after that, the door of the interrogation room opened and a familiar figure was standing next to it.

"I think that's enough, Officer Johnson"

If Barry wasn't feeling so miserable, he would have smile when Joe appeared in the room as some sort of savior. Not only was Joe a policeman, he also was Iris' father and a friend of his parents. If someone could get Henry Allen out of prison, it was Joe.

"Detective West, you can't interrupt an interrogation just like that"

"He's a victim, Johnson, not a murderer. For God's sake, he is just a kid!" Joe did look threatening when he got angry, Barry thought. No doubt why he was such a good police detective. The officer suddenly lost all ability to speak and remained on his seat looking helplessly to the one-way mirror whereas Joe got near Barry and got on his knees next to him so they were at the same eye level. "Hi Bear. Do you want to come home with Iris and me?"

"I want to see my dad"

Joe looked sadly at the poor little guy. All evidence said what everyone could see with their own eyes as soon as they got to the crime scene. All evidence said that Henry Allen, the man who he thought was his friend, has killed Nora. They didn't know the reason yet (if there was one), but there were no such things as blurs who take another person's life. For the detective, it looked as something impossible the kid's mind had fabricated to escape from the hard reality.

The man put his hands on Barry's knees and looked at him with an encouraging half smile like the one he always gave him when he saw him when he dropped Iris off at the school. He had always liked the kid, and his parents had been good people too. Years ago, when Iris and Barry were younger and his wife was still alive, the two couples used to spend many afternoons together in the park while the young ones played and run around them. As a policeman, he understood there were days where he was going to be too late to make a difference. It just hurt too much that it happened with the Allens.

"I promise I'll bring you tomorrow morning, okay?" He knew the young boy wasn't anywhere near convinced (he wasn't sure he was convinced by his own words either), so he spoke again before he could be interrupted. "Iris is alone at home and she gets scared if I am too late". That, of course, was a lie. He had been with his daughter when he had received the call to go to the Allens' house, so she knew he was at work (although he didn't explain anything of what had happened to his eleven-year-old daughter).



"Okay" repeated Barry again.

He got up at the same time as Joe. Iris was a friend; it wasn't fair to have her waiting for her father worried and alone at home. She had lost her mom not so long ago and he understood how alone she felt. He wasn't going to be the one to take her dad all for him. He already had one.

"Come on, Barry. Let's get out of here"

The kid got out of the interrogation room without looking back to the officer who had been interrogating him (and to whom he felt nothing but anger and frustration) and was led outside by Joe, who had a comforting hand on his back. He remained silent all the way to the car; he didn't say a word to anyone and he just stood next to Joe and wait while he talk to other police officers and signed some papers he didn't got the chance (or cared) to read.

Joe didn't say a word until they got near the car. However, when Barry thought he was going to open the car's door, he got down on his knees in front of him instead. Barry furrowed his brows when he saw that but he noticed all Joe was doing was buttoning his jacket; he hadn't realized until that moment that he was shivering.

"There you go" said Joe.

"Thank you, Joe".

The detective could have answered that there was nothing he had to thank him for, but instead he ran a hand through the kid's hair.

"Let's get you home"

Barry got inside the car once Joe opened the door and let the older man fasten his seatbelt as his dad did with him sometimes too. Recently, though, he had started arguing with both his dad and his mom about those kind of acts; even though he secretly like them, they showed to the outside world (and especially to the bullies) that he was still a kid when he was actually almost a teenager. That time, however, he didn't say anything to Joe.

Acts like those (such as rescuing him from Officer Johnson or buttoning his jacket when he was cold) showed him that he did care about him and it helped him not to feel so utterly alone in a world where, as he had discovered that night, everything was possible.

Thanks for reading!