Wait It Out

summary: [3x23 companion fic] Standing in the aftermath of Barry's departure, the family is left wondering where do they go from here, how do they carry on. It couldn't be goodbye, this wasn't the end of their story together, their hero had to return to them. But how long would they have to wait?

genre: Family, Angst

rated: T

authors note: title inspiration and lyrics are from "Wait it Out" by Imogen Heap. I love writing for these characters, exploring the ensemble's point of view of whats happening against how often we follow Barry's point of view. I hope you enjoy.

Where do we go from here?

How do we carry on?

I can't get beyond the questions.

Clambering for the scraps

In the shatter of us collapsed.

It cuts me with every could-have-been.

Pain on pain on play, repeating

With the backup makeshift life in waiting.

Everybody says that time heals everything.

But what of the wretched hollow?

The endless in-between?

Are we just going to wait it out?

There had been times in his life where Joe West didn't know what came next, how to move forward. Most of them involved the people he cared for around him. When he discovered Francine had relapsed into drug addiction after being sober for five years. When she left behind a six year old girl, leaving him alone to navigate a life for the two of them without her. When a heartbroken eleven year old boy he knew well needed a home after losing everything.

But then life was quiet for a while. Just a father and his two kids, one of blood and one of the heart, making a happy life together despite not having all their fair share of cards. And then one night, one fateful night his son was struck by lightning and his life hung by a thread and Joe was once again left trying to figure out what came next.

One half of Joe's heart lay in a hospital bed, Barry's own heart continuing to fail over and over and his breathing aided by a machine, clinging to life as he slept. The other half of Joe's heart, his beautiful daughter, worried for not only her best friend but also for her father who clung to the hand of the sleeping young man as if it anchored him from leaving he and Iris behind. For nine months, the two of them were left in suspension, an in-between that felt endless, waiting for Barry to wake up, going through the motions of life the best they could.

And then Barry woke up, finally, and life was that quiet calm again for what seemed like all of two minutes before life became a series of back to back 'what come's next's'. Powers, a son hellbent on being a super hero, taking down super villains, the death of a friend, the arrival of another son, close encounters and speed force myths, waves of joy and pain between it all. The knowledge of impending death for Iris at the hands of someone who looked like his son was the biggest 'where do we go from here' that Joe thought he would ever have to deal with. But once more, like the victory of Barry's miraculous awakening from the coma, they were barely able to celebrate in their triumph for a moment before the world collapsed around them.

Standing in their grieving clothes, the little makeshift family was left watching Barry sacrifice himself to appease an extra-dimensional fundamental force that half of them couldn't even begin to try to understand the science behind. Forced to pay for his crimes from a regretted mistake made in a moment of horrible pain, Barry said goodbye to the ones he cherished most in order to save them and the city he swore to protect. And just like that Barry disappeared into a brilliant swelling energy vortex with a mirage of his mother, the women whose death had thrust Barry into Joe's life full time. It seemed painful now that she was the one to take him out of his life now.

For what felt like hours they had stood their staring at the now empty and quiet entrance to STAR Labs, the place that brought them all together, already mourning and waiting for the reappearance of the man that continued to keep them all together time and time again.

But he didn't reappear. And they couldn't stand there waiting forever.

Now, Joe placed the short tumbler, empty of its whiskey, into the kitchen sink. He took a moment to grip the sides of the counter, pausing to close his eyes and take a deep breath. His grief threatened to swallow him whole, coming in waves that he had to breathe through in order to keep from drowning in it.

He hadn't broken down yet but he knew it was coming. Much like the few moments of despair on the rooftop as he watched Barry clutch the body of what he thought was his daughter, Joe was on the verge of collapse. But that had been thankfully short lived, just a few moments of all consuming agony before his daughter appeared in front of him, alive and whole. But no reprieve from the void of losing Barry, of watching him disappear into the Speed Force, was in sight. It had only been a few hours ago. As they all recovered from the shock, gripping Iris tight in his arms, he eventually ushered his distraught kids into his car and the three drove in silence to the West home. Iris didn't ask to be brought to the loft and Joe didn't offer, knowing that for tonight, together was better.

Once again reclaiming his balance and center, Joe pushed away from the kitchen counter and moved towards the living room. He'd barely gotten past the archway from the dining room into the den before a glance at the mantle caught his focus, where a photo of a younger version of himself smiled back at him, holding close two smiling thirteen year old versions of Iris and Barry, a photo taken by a coworker at the CCPD summer picnic. Joe had to grip the top of the leather armchair beside the fireplace to stable himself as another wave threatened to knock the breath from him. A quick glance to the couch claimed his attention and Joe was able to stabilize, releasing his hold on the chair and enter the room.

Wally was passed out on the couch, his head propped up by an elbow leaning on the couch armrest. He was still dressed in funeral attire, the suit jacket and tie lay discarded over the back of the couch. When they returned home, he and his two kids sat together for a while on the worn leather couch, in silence and in tears, comforting each other with just their presence, until Iris excused herself to shower and go to bed, heading upstairs towards her old bedroom. He and Wally had remained where Wally laid out his guilt, a culmination of unsaid things to Barry that spilled out amongst tears to his father.

Joe listened quietly with a supportive arm around his youngest as Wally mourned his mentor. Wally spoke of how in the beginning he had been so cruel to Barry because of his jealousy of the connection the man had with the father he missed out on growing up with, of how grateful he was that Barry gave up being the Flash to save him from Zoom. He spoke of the guilt of lashing out at Barry for what he had, the life with Iris and Joe that Wally didn't, the guilt increasing when he discovered that Barry had lost so much to get that. He talked about that despite their rough start, he loved Barry like a brother, looked up to him like one too. He spoke of how he could only hope to be half the man, half the son, half the hero that Barry was. Joe reassured him when Wally said it should have been him that offered to stabilize the speed force instead, explaining to his young son that Barry would have never allowed it; that Barry knew Wally was a hero, just like Joe did.

Joe had poured them both a shot of whiskey, he and the twenty-two year old speedster sharing a drink as Wally poured his heart out until he finally succumbed to exhaustion. It had been easy to keep it together as Wally broke down, feeling lost without his mentor, because his son needed his father. For his children, Joe could be that grounding force. But as he draped the throw blanket over the sleeping form, deciding to let the kid sleep where he lay, Joe felt his grip starting to weaken and knew it was time to go to bed where he would try to rest and grant himself the permission to succumb to his own emotions.

He headed for the stairs, a hand gripping tightly to the bannister for a moment to steady, waiting out the threat of the wave before he mustered the strength needed to propel him up the staircase. The first door on the left in the upstairs hallway was Iris' old room. With one hand he slowly eased the door open, wanting to check on his daughter, praying she too had fallen asleep. As he peered in though the crack, he saw the bed and room empty. He hung his head and knew where to look next. A few steps across the hall to the first door on the right was Barry's old room, the door closed. Joe's hand slowly twisted the knob while the other gripped the inner edge of the door as he slowly eased it open. A small stream of low light cast through the room from the hallway as Joe peeked his head in.

Iris sat propped up against the headboard of Barry's old bed, the small lamp on the bedside nightstand illuminating just enough of his daughter. She sat cross legged on the bed, her hair wet from the shower and pulled up into a bun on the top of her head, dressed in a red and blue flannel shirt and a maroon dark gray sweatpants that hung loose on her body, items that clearly weren't hers. Joe recognized them as Barry's that he must have left behind, guessing that Iris must have claimed them from his room and changed into after her shower instead of pulling clothes from her own wardrobe remnants. She had looked up as he entered, her eyes red and slightly puffy, cheeks streaked with tear tracks.

"Baby?" Joe called out as he moved further into the bedroom, closing the door slightly behind him. Iris didn't say anything as he approached, instead returning her focus to the hands in her folded lap. As he moved to the other side of the bed and sat beside her, he saw it was the engagement ring held between her hands she was focused on. Joe settled against the headboard, legs outstretched and one arm coming to rest around Iris' shoulders. They sat there in silence for a while, Joe patiently waiting for Iris to speak.

"When he proposed, the first time," she said, her voice quiet and strained before clearing her throat of the emotion knotted so she could continue, "Barry told me the story of his great-grandparents. He told me his great-grandfather bought the ring when he was stationed in London three years after he shipped out for World Ward II, three years after he originally wanted to propose. When he returned home to Brooklyn, she was there waiting for him and they got engaged right then and there."

"It's a beautiful story," Joe replied, rubbing up and down his daughter's arm.

"Yeah, it is," she nodded, speaking softly as if it was a painful secret, slipping the ring back onto her finger. "So was ours."

Iris barely got the last word out before she broke down. Joe quickly pulled Iris by the shoulders and held her to his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he hugged Iris as she sobbed. Joe understood this feeling of loss. He knew their love for Barry was different, but both loved him so fully. Barry was his heart, Barry was her soul. For so long their lives had been intertwined, the three of them a family, dynamics changing from guardian and child to father and son, and from best friends to lovers but always soul mates. No one could love Barry Allen more than the two people grieving him in his old bedroom.

Joe felt his eyes sting as he held his daughter, could feel his own tears falling from his eyes and into his daughter's hair, dismissing the desire to wipe them away, focused on providing as much comfort as possible to the woman in his arms. He felt Iris' fists clench the front of his t-shirt as she continued to cry and Joe instinctively wrapped his arms tighter around her. He gripped her tight, not only steadying her but himself as the wave crashed over him again, this time losing the grip on his wavering strength as he allowed the tears to come; he cried for Iris, cried for himself, cried for Barry.

Joe whispered quiet words of comfort, reassuring her that their story wasn't over yet, that it would all be okay as he held Iris until she cried herself to sleep wrapped in her father's arms. He knew why she shared that story now, knew that as much as Iris felt hopeless after watching Barry leave, that much like the first woman who wore this ring, she would wait for her love to return for as long as it took. The truth was Joe didn't know if any of that was true. He had hope but he couldn't promise her anything. This wasn't like when he was in the coma. For nine months, even when there was no change or no improvement, Joe could still feel Barry, like they were just waiting with held breaths for him to wake up. This wasn't like when they thought they lost Barry to the Speed Force, first in trying to reclaim his powers and second when he went to rescue Wally. It hadn't felt final. But this, this felt different. This felt final.

He didn't know how their family would move on from here, how they would carry on. Would Barry return, would they be whole again, was he safe? Joe had more questions than answers, knowing that in the morning his kids, his team, would look to him for strength. But the grip on his own strength continued to come and go in waves, threatening to shatter or collapse at any moment.

They would all get through this, waiting out the waves of grief together. Like everything else they'd been through, with time they'd get through this. As Joe looked around the room that would always belong to his son whether he lived here or not, looked at the strong woman in his arms who he knew would never give up on fighting and hoping, exhaustion threatened him with sleep and an end to this day, a brief reprieve from the hollow he felt.

Tomorrow would bring a new day, a day without Barry Allen. But he made a silent promise that they would not wait long to fix that, to bring him home. Despite the wavering grip, Joe vowed he would remain strong, for them, for himself, for Barry.

There's nothing to see here now,

Turning the sign around;

We're closed to the Earth 'til further notice.

A stumbling cliched case

Crumpled and puffy faced

Dead in the stare of a thousand miles

An all-out one, only one street-level miracle.

I'll be a an out-and-out, born again from none more cynical.

Everybody says that time heals everything

Oh in the end.

But what of the wretched hollow?

The endless in-between?

Are we just going to wait it out?

And sit here cold?

We'll be long gone by then.

And lackluster in dust we lay

Around old magazines.

Fluorescent lighting sets the scene

For all we could and should be being

In the one life that we've got.

Cisco kicked aside one of the overturned chairs at the entrance of the Cortex. The room was scorched and in shattered fragments and debris, a dark contrast to the shiny, crisp white room where so much of his life had taken place the last three years. The chair he kicked aside was the one he so often frequented. Seeing the other overturned, sometimes occupied by Julian or any of the three variations of Harrison Wells but most often belonging to Caitlin, Cisco gently turned it upright.

Joe had taken Iris and Wally home not long ago, the West family all shell shocked and devastated at the sudden absence of the fourth member of their nuclear family. Cisco had fought the urge to go with them, knowing they all would have accepted him without a thought but deciding that as they mourned in their family's home, he would stay here at STAR Labs, the home where his family was formed.

He had immediately wanted to call Caitlin but decided against it for now. That wound was still to fresh. Harry, Julian, Jay and Gypsy stayed with him, offering to help as they began to try to piece the Lab together. The sooner their base of operations was back up and running, which judging by the damage would be some time, the sooner they could get to helping Wally be ready out there in the City as a now lone Flash. The sooner they got the place cleaned up and ready to do work, the sooner they could come up with a solution to save Barry from the Speed Force. The sooner the Lab got back to being fixed, the sooner Cisco could work on fixing Team Flash. He needed this place, he needed these people.

As he carefully maneuvered around the mess of debris, he thought about the Cortex. How just over five years ago he walked in to his dream job wearing his favorite Star Wars t-shirt and met the woman who would soon become one of his best friends. Two years later, the once bustling work center became the room where they would house a hospital bed and medical equipment used to help save the life of a comatose young man, the man that would eventually become his other best friend, who a month before had been struck by a lightning bolt and dark matter caused by their particle accelerator. Eight months after that and the Cortex became the focal point of a three year journey Team Flash embarked on to help people.

As Cisco grabbed a bin and picked through the debris, salvaging anything that looked partially intact, he couldn't help but think of the memories this room was filled with, especially the last three years. Ping pong matches with Barry, Netflix marathons with Caitlin while the Flash patrolled Central City, countless namings of Meta-Humans and the three of them forging their friendship over hours upon hours spent together in some of the craziest and most rewarding times. Intertwined with those cherished memories, the terrible ones existed too, like having to admit to them that he had revealed The Flash's identity to Captain Cold, or witnessing Zoom dangle a barely breathing, bleeding and broken Barry from his demonic claws. But even still, memories like the kiss from Gypsy that stole his voice or the sheer joy on Barry and Iris' face as they announced their engagement shone bright enough in his mind that even amongst the dark and ruined remains of the Cortex, their home base, their was still hope it could breathe that life again.

Joe would always joke it was their clubhouse and Cisco would be lying if it didn't make him smile, even if it was ghosted in sadness. Team Flash had started small and over time had grown, becoming the sense of family that Cisco never really felt with his own. He loved his parents, loved and missed Dante, but never had he felt more love and belonging than with Barry and Caitlin, all three Well's in their own way, and with Barry's adopted family of Joe, Iris and Wally that had accepted both he and Caitlin as honorary West's.

What he wouldn't give to have Caitlin here, to be there for him like she had been when Dante died, when he'd shunned Barry for not going back in time to save him. The truth was he hadn't really been mad at Barry for that. What he had been feeling was anger with himself for wasting the time he had with Dante and never forging that sense of brotherhood, that feeling he had every time he looked at Barry. So he took it out on Barry for six months and pushed him away, only to reconcile and then push him away even further after finding out Dante had been alive in the previous timeline. But it wasn't Barry's fault. Dante could have easily died in that timeline too. But once again Cisco let his grief consume him and pushed Barry away. His pain was valid, but his torment of Barry wasn't. Barry was his best friend, his brother, and so they healed. But Cisco couldn't help but wallow in the regret for a moment. First Dante, now Barry, more wasted time.

Cisco swatted at the tears that escaped his eyes, stopping to take a few deep breaths before standing up straighter than before. He would not give in to the should have's. He would not be overwhelmed by his grief. Barry wasn't gone. He couldn't be. They'd been through to much together to stop now. They'd come too far for this to end. Team Flash would heal, STAR Labs would be repaired, and they would save Barry.

Finally reaching the other side of the room, Cisco knelt down to the fallen mannequin that housed the Flash uniform. It lay on its side, descended from its upright display, trapped beneath a collapsed computer console. As Cisco pushed the shattered desk pieces, revealed beneath was the red suit, dirty but still intact, miraculously unscathed. Somehow it survived the chaos and destruction and Cisco couldn't stop the shaky intake of breath as he looked at the suit.

Barry's suit.

Cisco had laid claim to his work early on; despite Barry wearing it Cisco always took ownership of the carefully constructed uniform. But it stopped being his long ago, Barry transforming from the guy that just used the suit into the hero that wore the crimson uniform that was now synonymous with hope and protection. As Barry became the hero, the concept of the suit left Cisco's ownership and shifted to The Flash's. And Cisco wouldn't have it any other way.

What he wouldn't give to have their hero back now, his hero. Not the Flash. It wasn't the Scarlet Speedster that sacrificed his life for them, it was Barry Allen. His friend, his brother.

He brushed his palm across his cheek, swiping away more unwanted tears before pushing his hair back from where it had fallen over his face. He took in a deep breath and stood, steady hands gripping the uniformed mannequin to raise it upright.

It may seem silly in the middle of the fractured Cortex, the destructed STAR Labs, but Cisco propped the uniform back into it's display alcove. This was where it belonged, where he belonged. Cisco would honor it as such. They may be set back for now, left lost and unsure of how to move forward without their leader, STAR Labs closed until further notice. But it was just for now. With time, Cisco was confident they would move forward, Team Flash would continue, and he would find a way to bring Barry back. To bring Barry home.

In the one life that we've got.

Everybody says that time heals everything.

But what of the wretched hollow?

The endless in-between?

Are we just going to wait it out?

We sit here

Just going to wait it out

Sit here cold

Just going to threat it out

Wait it out.

Iris awoke to her father kissing her head softly as he got up from the bed that had once belonged to Barry. He didn't look anymore rested; if Iris was being honest, she thought her father looked even more tired. He reached out a hand to brush at a strand of hair that had fallen free from the bun while she had slept. She smiled up at him sadly, quiet permission for him to leave the room, that for now she would be okay by herself. He gave her a small, sad smile back, placing one more kiss to her forehead before he left the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Iris stretched out on her belly, clutching the pillow close, inhaling the pillowcase of the maroon sheet set that, even though Barry hadn't lived in the room for months now, still smelled faintly of him.

When she had walked out of the bathroom last night after showering off the day, she walked into her old bedroom first, feeling strangely out of place and empty as she stood in the doorway. Reaching into the dresser against the nearby wall, she plucked a pair of left behind panties from the top drawer, slid them on beneath her towel, and walked across the hall to Barry's old room instead. Standing in the doorway of the room that didn't belong to her, she felt the emptiness as well but for a different reason, but yet felt more at ease being in Barry's space than her own. It brought her a sense of comfort as she walked around the room. She moved towards his closet as she opened the folding door, the waft of his scent that lingered on the abandoned clothing drifted her away and the comfort increased. She reached for a flannel shirt and pair of sweatpants, shedding the towel and slowly wrapping herself in his remnants. The sweatpants hung around her hips loose, her slim hips even smaller than his lean body, forcing her to pull the drawstring tight so they didn't slide off. The flannel felt like a hug from him as it brushed against her skin, pressing against her torso and arms and it was warm like Barry.

She had walked around his room, bare feet padding against the hardwood floor delicately as she explored the space Barry occupied growing up. She passed the bookcase where a framed photo of the two of them taken on their last day of elementary school, standing outside the front door of West home, so many years ago.

Fate put them in the same third grade class, she knew that. A game of musical chairs on the first day had Barry and Iris giggling as they fought over the last free chair in the first round. She remembered the sound of his happy laugh even clearly now. He laughed as his butt bumped her slightly off the chair but his face quickly fell as he saw how disappointed she was that she had lost. The teacher declared that Barry had won but he said he would sit out with Iris instead so she wouldn't be lonely and the two abandoned the game and moved to the reading carpet in the corner of the third grade classroom and talked while the rest of the kids played. They had been inseparable ever since.

She remembered being devastated the first day of fourth grade when she discovered Barry wasn't in her class. At recess they found each other on the playground and hugged, holding each other tight. The next day in class she was so happy she could cry when the small boy walked into the classroom. Apparently he had been just as disheartened by it, crying to his mother that it wasn't fair, to which Nora called the school and asked them to move her son.

And then fifth grade happened, halfway through the school year when the tragedy that changed all of their lives pushed Barry into her life more full-time. She was grateful that her father was willing to save her best friend, thankful that their bond as friends wasn't tested when he came to live with them but instead was fortified. They grew together, Iris holding him while he cried on many nights, growing up a little too fast as she was determined to help take care of her grieving friend. 'Like brother and sister' was the term they used because it was easy to understand but their relationship escaped definition. It was a love deeper than friends, too deep for teen hearts to process. She knew now that Barry had been able to recognize it early on, but she meant more to him than trying to be with her, needing her as his friend more than he wanted her as a romantic partner. Iris hadn't been able to fathom that in their youth. The thing about hindsight was she was able now to identify exactly how she felt about him and couldn't believe she hadn't put two and two together then. She never seriously dated in high school, needing only to satisfy teenage lust, never really sought companionship beyond that because she wasn't lacking that thanks to the dynamic she had with Barry.

She had fought back tears as her old memories flashed through her mind, moving across the room to settle on the bed. Iris slid the engagement ring off her finger, holding it between her hands, staring at the piece that had once been on Nora Allen's finger. She wondered if Henry had loved Nora like Barry loved her, if Nora needed Henry as much as she needed Barry. She didn't think it was possible. Barry Allen was woven into the fabric of her story in a way no one else could be.

It couldn't be over, their story couldn't end like this, a love story built on twenty years of friendship, a love set on fire in the last year as they finally came together as they knew they were always meant to be. Her fingers brushed over the diamonds, a gorgeous piece of jewelry symbolizing that he wanted her to be his wife, that she said yes to him being her husband. Before her father walked into the room last night, she had sat there and promised herself that she would wear the ring always, forever being Iris West-Allen even though she never got to really take that vow. Barry made her promise to keep growing, keep loving, keep running. She would.

Now, the morning after saying a goodbye she refused to accept as final, Iris stood from the bed, albeit on shaky and uncertain legs. She needed time, needed a chance to heal her broken heart as the idea of life without Barry threatened to hollow her out. The grief was so deep it was hard to imagine things could change, could be better. But much like Barry's great grandmother waited for her lover's return, no guarantee that he would return home from the war as she waited to marry the man she loved, Iris would wait for Barry. She would wait for as long as it took him to return, either to them freely or by ripping him out of the speed force herself. They had waited so long to start this thing between them, been through so much these past three years, had their love tested time and time again and yet they always prevailed. This was no different.

She would have to resist the listlessness of the 'in-between' as she waited for him to return, pull a page from Barry's book and stay optimistic in the face of overwhelming odds. Their future wasn't set. This past year had proven that. She wouldn't let go the idea of their happy ending but she wouldn't let it hold her back from living her life. Like she promised Barry, Iris would continue to grow, moving forward in her career, helping Wally become the hero Barry had faith that he was. She would keep loving her family, both her brother and father as well as the members of Team Flash who would need her quiet strength, using her own voice as well as speaking for Barry who couldn't speak for himself now. She would keep running forward and running towards hope. And forever would run towards him, towards her forever with Barry as Iris West-Allen.