the beginning

Warning: mature language and contentfirst personword count: 3,10010:46 am | a few months after Barry leaves his coma

There is always a reason to keep going. I knew that, but I wasn't sure if Barry did.

Lately, he had been in over his head. I understood what it may be like: to wake up after all that time, to feel like living life again, to want to be launched back into your life and appreciate what you took for granted.

Barry seemed much more . . . alive. He seemed so animated. I always asked how it felt, to breathe again and feel again. He always met me with the same smile. He would take my hands in his and say, "I can finally do something now. I feel so . . . I feel like I can make a difference now."

The first time he said that to me, I gave him the most ridiculous look.

Make a difference? All you did was wake up . . . the only thing you could do is share your story. What difference will that make?

I never said anything to him. His hopeful smile and optimistic tone always put me in a better mood. Before his . . . very long nap, I knew Barry very little. We worked together, at the police department. I worked a desk, nine to five, logging and taking evidence and making sure nothing went missing. And if something did go missing, it was definitely going to be my fault. I can't tell you how many times Barry had passed my desk before he noticed me.

Barry Allen was always so late, always stumbling up and down the stairs, always fluttering the papers off my desk. One day, he knocked my coffee over. And I was having such a bad day.

The coffee mug shattered as it hit the ground. The sound of it irritated me. I was already so pissed off.

My new job here paid a good amount less than where I worked before, in Star City. After I asked about a raise, these people just laughed in my face. It better not have been because I'm a woman. My parents also weren't able to help me pay my bills this month, as they're having trouble handling my siblings' expenses from college. I also had chipped my newly done nails and put a stain on my favorite shirt. And that mug was my favorite.

I stood up from the chair that I hated. It made my ass hurt.

I bent down to pick up the pieces from the mug, but somebody was already doing it for me. All I saw was the back of someone's chocolate hair, his arms moving quickly to pick up the broken pieces. I knew who it was before he even turned around.

"Jesus, I am so sorry, I really wasn't watching where I was going," Barry muttered. He stood up, his sweater stained with my coffee. It sort of matched his beige sweater, with all the cream I put in my caffeine. He caught my expression and smiled to lighten the mood. "Hey. I can get you another one."

"Another mug like this? You can't. It was my favorite," I snapped, ignoring his gaze. He was very easy on the eyes, but my day was not getting any better. I turned to get back to my seat, but Barry held onto my arm. His hands still held the glass from the mug, and he cut me with it.

"Jesus! I am so-so-shit . . . I am so sorry," he muttered. He threw the glass away and closed his hands over my wound. "My . . . name is Barry. Barry Allen. I'm not making the best first impression, am I? Are you new here?"

I scoffed. "No, I'm not. I've been here a couple of weeks. You just don't notice me."

Barry gave me a sorry look, grabbing a napkin off the counter to stop the bleeding. "I'm sorry . . . I never really see anything but my feet. I should look up more often."

Our eyes met, and he smiled at me. I might have been having the worst day of my life, but that smile was something else.

"Come on. I'll take care of you. I have some things upstairs that can help."

Barry led me up the stairs, still holding onto me. He held me carefully, guiding me to make sure I didn't trip.

"I'm very capable of walking on my own, Mr. Allen."

Barry laughed at me. "Oh, uh . . .yeah, I'm sorry. I'll let you go."

I stopped him before his hand could leave my arm. "I didn't say I didn't like it."

I think that was the moment I really felt something for Barry.

I remember getting to know Barry well. He and I became good friends at the department, and then he gets struck by lightning. Just as I was beginning to like him, he got struck by lighting. I was such a lucky woman.

I spent the next nine months talking to Barry from beside his bed, always hoping he would wake up. He never spoke to me, and yet I fell for him day after day. And I knew that all this time spent away from me, he would never feel the same way.

I was walking along downtown Central City when my phone rang. It was Barry. I smiled down at it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, (y/n)," Barry echoed. I smiled, putting my free hand into my coat pocket as the winter wind engulfed me.

"Hey, Barry. What's up?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing. I miss you!" He chuckled. I bit my lip, knowing all his words were so innocent. We flirted a lot, but I always thought it was just a joke. A really shitty joke.

"Then you should come see me, Barry," I replied, opening the door to the coffee shop. I needed caffeine in this cold, especially. Barry laughed on the other side of the line. His laugh was sweet.

"Can I see you tonight?" He asked. I smiled as I got in line.

"Yeah, I suppose you can. Seven 'o' clock, my apartment? I'll cook one of your favorites," I offered. Barry cheered on the other end.

"Hell, yeah. I can't wait." The line ended, and I turned my gaze to the TV. It was another story on 'the streak' or 'the flash.' I grimaced as I read the headlines.

Taking down all these . . . 'metahumans.' That's not a job for someone in a mask. They're going to get killed . . . and take all of the city's hope with 'em. You get an amazing ability and then put yourself on the line? I hope his mother says her prayers . . .

I didn't mean those thoughts in a bad way. But putting yourself in the field like that, especially in a city such as Central City, was a huge risk. So many people had died in the past few months ever since people had been coming back from the dead . . . with a little extra something. It worried me. It worried me, and I wasn't even out there fighting anything.

After I grabbed my coffee, I wondered what I should make for Barry. He wasn't a picky eater, but he sure did eat a lot. One time I had to make enough food for ten people, and he still asked for a little something more. I knew boys could eat, but . . . it was crazy.

I sat down at a table, opening my laptop and browsing through the online newspaper. Articles after articles after articles of this Flash was all you would see. I didn't think it was annoying, but I knew enough about him already. I was interrupted by somebody taking the chair in front of me.

"Hey, is this seat taken?"

I peeked out from behind my computer screen to see a very handsome young man. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and his jawline cut nicely. He had his five 'o' clock shadow already, and I swallowed heavy.

"Uh, no, it's not taken," I replied. He smiled, a very nice smile, and sat down.

"I, uh, couldn't help but notice you over here. I don't . . . usually do this, but I could not think of another opportunity to talk to someone who looked so lovely."

I choked on my drink, and his expression dropped. "Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?"

I shook my head. "No! No, no, you didn't, I just . . . I mean, you mean me?" I wondered.

He smiled. "Yeah. I mean you. You ordered the same drink as me, and I noticed how lovely you were looking, and I just . . . thought I would give it a shot."

"You are so very honest. I'm enjoying it," I laughed. His cheeks went a little red.

"Well, I'm Alex. I have to get going, but, uh, could I have your number? If that's not too much to ask?"

I bit my lip. Something inside of me was telling me to say no. Something was telling me not to, even though Barry was not someone I could really save myself for. When was it going to be the time for just me?

"Um . . . yeah. You can. I just . . . I don't know if I'm really looking for anything right now. But I would love to talk," I offered. Alex smiled at me, nodding his head. He stood up, and my heart dropped at the idea that this guy only wanted me because I was the pretty girl at the coffee shop. Maybe it was a good thing he was leaving.

He slid his phone out to me, and my heart eased. For a second, I felt something pass by me quickly, and before I could finish blinking I went blind in red. It lasted for a millisecond, and I feared I was going crazy. Alex's chuckle brought me back to earth. "It's okay. I'm just looking to make friends, too."

6:38 pm

The smell of homemade mac 'n' cheese and grilled steak was intoxicating. I made sure to make potatoes and mac 'n' cheese, to use the carbs to my advantage to fill Barry's stomach up quicker. I did make extra steaks just in case.

I filtered through my pantry for a good glass of wine, something to make tonight feel special. The dinner wasn't anything important, but Barry Allen was coming over for dinner and that was more than enough to crack open a good bottle of wine.

I decided on something French; I trust them with my wine choice.

I heard frantic knocking at the door, scratchy. I set the bottle of wine down and checked the clock. Barry was early.

I straightened out my dress and tossed my apron on the counter. I licked a few hairs back into place and opened the door. I cried out in alarm.

"Barry! What the hell happened to you?" I gasped. Barry was holding a crumpled bouquet of roses, but he still smiled at me. His visible chest showed bruises peeking through, and his black eye was his staple attraction. I put my hands over my mouth. He had cuts with stitches through them across his left cheek and forehead, and I noticed the red around his knuckles.

"Jesus Christ, did you get hit by a truck? Please tell me you just fell down into a ditch," I gasped through my teeth. I heard Barry swallow hard, and I pulled him into my apartment. I shut the door behind him and engulfed him in a bug.

"Barry, my God, what happened to you?" I whimpered. He moaned when I hugged him, and I realized he was most likely hurt in places I couldn't even see.

"(y/n), please . . ." Barry muttered. He held out the flowers for me, his eyes begging me just to take them and be quiet.

"Barry, what happens to you? You show up like this and expect me not to worry? Or say anything to you?" I breathed. I took the roses. They smelled lovely.

"(y/n), I'm sorry . . . I can't tell you . . ." His eyes were watering, and soon I was thinking the worst.

"Oh, my God, you're . . . a double agent? A criminal? Oh, my god, Barry Allen, you're dealing drugs? No . . . you're printing fake money? You went down the wrong alley?" I spit out. I threw the roses on the kitchen counter and paced around the room. My heels made a very annoying sound.

Barry just watched me as I blurted out every illegal thing I could think of. Barry smiled a bit, and I grabbed my head.

"What is so funny?! You come in here looking like you fell off a building, and you're smiling? What is so amusing?!" I cried.

Barry sighed, walking over to me. "(y/n) . . . please stop . . ."

"No! Not until you tell me what happened to you . . ."

"After dinner. Please."

8:47 pm

I had been staring at Barry all night, trying to figure him out. He ate so much food, but I didn't even notice. I only noticed the dark blue and yellow marks on the skin that I could see, and I worried about what I couldn't see.

"If you're going to stare at me all night at least try to act like you're not," Barry said, putting in a last bite of mac 'n' cheese. I smiled sadly from across the table.

"I'm sorry . . .I just want to know what's been going on with you."

"I could ask you the same thing," Barry remarked. I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"(y/n), ever since I woke up, I've had this fire in me to do something more . . ." Oh, here we go. ". . . and I am-"

"That's why you look like this?"

Barry frowned at me for interrupting. "And you're one of the only people that I've talked to about it. And every time I tell you, I see this look in your eye. Like something is wrong, like you don't believe me."

I looked down. "To be honest, Barry . . . I feel like you're chasing a dream. And I don't want to see you get disappointed. And . . ." I looked up at him. I stood up from the chair and settled into one much closer to him. "Barry, I'm going to be honest with you because we're adults. And this isn't high school, and I should be able to tell you this without it being weird."

Barry tilted his head to listen, a thoughtful expression on his face. I smiled at him before leaning my head against his shoulder. "I have feelings for you, Barry. And it's been difficult seeing you drift away from me. You spend your time at S.T.A.R. labs which is cool, but sometimes I wish we could spend more time together? How I always imagined . . . I guess."

Barry relaxed underneath me, and he let his cheek nudge into my hair. "You have feelings for me?" He asked. I laughed a little and nodded. "Well . . . that's not what it looked like in the coffee shop today."

I shot up straight and looked at him, my face red with embarrassment. "What? How do you know about that?"

"You want to know why I came here like this?" I blinked, and Barry took my hand in his, rubbing circles along the back of my palm with his thumb. "I'm . . . Flash."

Before he knew it, I was ripping my hand from his and slapping him across the face.

"Ow! Jesus! What the hell was that for?" He cried out. I breathed hard, my hand trembling. Barry held his cheek, and I climbed onto his lap as I hugged him.

"Barry, what the hell is wrong with you?" I mumbled into his neck. Barry closed his arms around me, pulling me tighter against him. He breathed easier, and I looked up at him. I had never been this close to him, and I felt his breath against my shoulder.

"I'm sorry . . ." Barry started. I leaned closer and rested my cheek against his, kissing his skin lightly.

"Oh, do you know how much I worry? Even when I didn't know him, I always thought Flash was such an idiot for just jumping into danger like that . . . oh, Barry, I can't believe you! And you've been spying on me?"

Barry turned my head with his fingers and gently kissed me. I relaxed into his grip, and Barry chuckled between kisses. I let my heels fall to the floor as Barry's hands gripped my waist.

"For one, (y/n), I do this because it's important to me. There aren't many people that can help like I can. And two, I just check in on you . . . you just have never noticed. And three, I haven't stopped thinking about you since I met you," Barry replied matter-of-factly. I laughed.

"Oh, my God, you are the worst!" I breathed. Barry looked up at me as I settled onto his lap, savoring how close I was to him. Barry grinned.

"You like this spot?" He teased. I nodded, laying small kisses onto his cheek where his bruises laid. His face scrunched up sometimes when I kissed a little too hard, and I had to make sure I was careful.

"Oh, Barry, what am I going to do with you?" I sighed. I kissed him again, and this time Barry shivered, and for the first time I felt his speed. I pulled away, lingering in the kiss as Barry shuddered a little again. He pulled me close again, closing the space between us and giving me another kiss. I savored every moment, feeling a shiver move from the base of my spine to the base of my neck as Barry shared his kisses with me. When he pulled away, I grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, keeping him close. He liked that.

"Sorry . . . I can't help it," Barry admitted, reaching his hand up to my face to pull me back. "You just look so lovely."

I pulled away from him, laughing. "Really, Barry?! For your information, I declined because of you," I informed him. Barry grinned, trying to find my lips again as he closed his eyes.

"I'm a jealous man," he admitted, finding my jaw instead and kissing me there. "And this is just the beginning . . ."

Hope you all enjoy. This one is really long, I don't know why. I just kept writing, and I think it's pretty good. I can make new ones or even continue this one? Leave some suggestions for me. This is just the first one, let me know if you think it needs improvement. It was really long, oops.

Love, B