Under Stormy Skies

By the time Barry returned with Mary to Central, he had been both properly chastised for "letting Wally get kicked off the team" and thanked more times than he could count for the trip to Gotham. He was also in a much better mood than he had been all week (even barring the stress from this whole thing with Wally) because there was nothing more satisfying than watching Batman—tall, imposing, intimidating, controlling Batman—get browbeaten and badgered by a five-foot-nothing mother intent on getting her way. In the end, he had been left with no choice but to relent or else be blown over and destroyed by the hurricane that was Mary West on a mission.

Barry never had to wonder about where Wally got his stubborn streak from, that was for sure. And the boy had definitely gotten a double dose of it, from both Mary and Rudolph, if Iris was anything to go by.

Speaking of Iris, Barry was disappointed to find that his wife was gone by the time he got back home, probably already at work—which was something he himself had to get to, come to think of it. Stopping only to grab a quick sandwich out of the fridge, the blonde man made a zipline straight for the police station.

The crime labs were empty when Barry arrived, strange for this time of day. Yes, the police department let their forensic scientists choose their hours – which was especially convenient given this week's incident; there would definitely be no one questioning his comings and goings as it were – but it was barely even eleven in the morning yet, and they had a high-profile case they were working. Frowning, he pulled his lab coat and and got to work. Even if everyone else had decided to slack off, he'd still taken the whole afternoon off yesterday, and there was work that needed doing; evidence that needed analysing.

The case that currently had the whole Central City Police Department in a tizzy was a strange one. It had been the number one topic of the news hour the past few weeks, and if there was anything good coming out of this whole Wally situation, it was the fact that the reporters were finally leaving the station alone. Not that having them camped out on Mary's front lawn was even marginally better for Barry's mental health, but if there was one thing everyone he worked with knew, it was the fact that it was that much harder to successfully close a high profile case when everyone in the city was breathing down your shoulder, ready to push you over a cliff should you fail. The added tension of no one having any idea what was even going on with this mess didn't help matters anyway.

The police had on their hands six bodies and no way to explain them. Over the past month, each individual had just – died. No one knew how or why. The autopsies hadn't revealed anything. The coroner had been ready to declare the first one a natural death, except that there was literally no possible explanation for the dead body she'd had sitting in front of her. Jeremy Tell, mystery death number one. He had been alive, until he wasn't. It was like he'd just…stopped. And five more identical yet completely unrelated deaths had occurred since then.

"I need a new job," he sighed, looking over the notes. He didn't really. But it was hard for him to focus on the details when he couldn't get Wally's situation out of his head. Even as he opened the drawer he had stored his experiment in yesterday, he was only half focused on the situation at hand.

So his nephew no longer had a secret identity. There were worst things in the world. Like the six mysterious dead bodies he was currently supposed to be focussing on. Of course, without a secret identity, Wally could also end up a dead body if any one of the numerous enemies a superhero made decided to come after him.

"Never should've let him join that team," he muttered under his breath. He rifled through the well-organized slides until he found the one he wanted. Lifting it out, the scientist examined it in the light for a second before nodding to himself.

The sharp buzzing of Barry's cell phone interrupted his thought process. Glancing at the screen and noticing it was Mary, he couldn't help but shake his head fondly. He hadn't even left the woman an hour ago; she couldn't possibly want another visit to Gotham so soon. He slid his thumb over the screen and lifted the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Mary."

"Barry! Oh thank God," she exclaimed through the phone. Her voice was tight, relief palpable in the way she said his name. "You work at the police station: I need you to come over and help sort this out."

"Sort what out?" he asked, positioning the slide under the microscope.

"CPS!" she exclaimed. "They're here and they're…they're talking all this stuff about child endangerment and taking Wally away!"

Barry froze, grateful that he'd already rested the glass pane down because if he'd still held it in his hand, it would've shattered to the ground. "Did you say Child Protective Services is there?"

"They're at the front door right now asking to come inside – Antonio's talking to them."

Barry ran through his knowledge of CPS, and let out a frustrated sigh. "Okay, I will be right there. You might as well let them in; you've got nothing to hide, you've done nothing wrong. They probably just want to talk for now. But if you don't want to talk that's fine, too—they can't force you to let them in. They're not the police."

"But if we don't it might look bad—they could take Wally! He's going to freak out when he finds out about this, Barry."

"That's a worst case scenario, Mary, I promise. You just listen to them, try not to say anything, and I will worry about Wally. And I will be there in the next five minutes." "

"I've gone through this once already, I can't do it again," she said, stress palpable through the line.

"I know," he said, "Iris has told me all about it. Whatever happens, we will work it out, okay?"

She breathed out a 'thank you' and Barry clicked the phone off. And then dropped his face into his hands and let out a long, pained groan. And then he shook himself out, stood up, and jogged over to Patty's workspace.

"Hey, if anyone's looking for me, I'm stepping out for an hour or two."

"More family drama?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Well, good luck, then," she smiled at him.

"Thanks," he grinned back, waving her goodbye as he left. The second he stepped out of the building, he pulled out his phone and punched in the number.

"Yeah?" the grouchy voice on the other end of the line answered, sounding as if he was just waking up.

"Hey, Roy, this is Barry. Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favour…"

XXX

Barry didn't bother knocking when he arrived at the West residence. He pulled out his key and walked in, calling out, "Mary?" as he entered.

"In here," the woman replied from the living room, and he walked down the hall to find Mary, Antonio, and two people he assumed were the CPS agents seated in the living room.

The man and woman sitting on the couch were completely unassuming, with her friendly smiles and warm demeanour, his tweed jacket and relaxed composure. Everything about them seemed to scream 'trust us'. Anyone random walking past might've just taken them for friends dropping by for a quick chat. Only Mary's stiff body language and the frown plastered on Antonio's face said otherwise.

It was lucky the reporters outside seemed to have cleared out to follow Wally to school.

And then the man stood up, and Barry suddenly realised he knew him.

"—I hope you don't mind," Mary was saying. "This is Wally's uncle—"

"Barry Allen," the man cut in gruffly. "We've met." The disdain in his voice was obvious. Barry very deliberately did not let it affect his smile.

"Geoffrey," he greeted evenly, holding his hand out. It was taken, but very begrudgingly. Of course handling this would be the only non-supervillain in existence who had a bone to pick with Barry Allen. Of course.

"I hope you didn't invite Mr. Allen here to try to skew our investation. CCPD has no influence on child services," the man said. His tone was mostly pleasant still, but his eyes screamed hostility as he took his seat. Mary looked offended, but Barry replied before she could say anything.

"I was just coming by to check up on my family. Why, exactly, is child services here?"

"That's no concern of yours, Mr. Allen." That was the other social worker, the woman. "We're here to speak to Wally's parents."

"Pardon me," Mary began slowly, "But Barry and Iris are also actively involved in Wally's life. Anything you have to say to us, you can say in front of him." She was more on edge than she'd been facing down Batman this morning. But then, Bruce wasn't actually as imposing as he liked to pretend to be sometimes.

"Very well," the social worker continued. "I assure you we have Wally's best interests at heart," she continued, clearly picking up whatever thread of conversation they'd been on when Barry had walked in and interrupted. "As I'm sure you do, too. But the fact remains that we have to investigate every report filed with the department, and to be entirely frank – the amount of calls we've gotten regarding Wally and his situation is honestly unprecedented. And…you have to admit, the situation does warrant it."

If Mary had looked offended before, now she looked downright angry. Wally was of the belief that he'd gotten his temper from his dad – and, honestly, Rudolph West did indeed have a magnificent temper, something his family knew all too well – but especially after watching the way the tiny woman had ripped Batman a new one, Barry wasn't so sure. Mary was a slow brew, but she could explode when needed.

Luckily, she also knew how to keep a level head when needed.

"Excuse me?" she exclaimed. "How, exactly, does this situation warrant it?"

The social worker didn't seem perturbed in the least, even after her companion muttered a low, "Jules," under his breath at her in warning. She brushed him off.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. West, but you are regularly letting your fifteen-year-old child fight known criminals. Known, dangerous, largely superpowered criminals. Supervillains! Willingly letting your child fight supervillains seems, to me at least, like the basis for some kind of neglect, at the very least. Especially given your past history with our department."

"What she means to say," Geoffrey cut in smoothly, suddenly looking like the much more friendly of the two, whether he liked Barry or not, "is that we just want to make sure your son is safe. That's our job."

Now it was Barry's turn to feel personally offended, whether the two knew they had caused that or not. "Wally has the Flash looking after him," he chimed in. "Keeping Wally safe is his number one priority, I promise you that."

"I don't doubt that," Geoffrey replied, a hint of reverence in his voice. He was, of course, a fan of the Flash. But then, really, who wasn't? Of course, that was probably just because he didn't realise that Barry was the Flash and therefore the Flash had been the one to present evidence that had ruined his last career. He'd been kind of a terrible lawyer, anyway. If today was anything to go by, social work seemed to be a much better fit for him. "The Flash is a very responsible man." He looked like he wanted that to be the end of it, but Jules wasted no time in adding:

"We will, of course, have to interview him, as well, to determine that for ourselves. I'm sure you understand."

"We'll be sure to tell him," Mary said, voice cool. "But I think you've overstayed your welcome. Pease leave."

Both social workers stood, Jules obviously the more discontent even as Geoffrey made sure to shoot Barry one last, pointed glare. Mary all but marched them to the door, and Jules managed to get off a "We'll be in touch," before the door was resolutely not slammed shut in her face.

"The nerve of them!" the irate mother exclaimed, turning around as soon as the door was shot and the latch clicked into place.

"Mary," her husband tried, but she continued over him.

"Coming in here and accusing me of neglecting my son straight to my face like that? Who do they think they are?"

"Social services," Antonio said dryly. It was exactly the wrong thing to say, because the woman let out a strangled scream of frustration. Barry shook his head. Wally definitely got his temper from his mother.

"Emmeline," Antonio tried again, and the use of her full name caught her attention. He wrapped his arms around her gently. "It'll be fine," he continued. "You're a great mother, no one can deny that. It's one of the things I love most about you."

"God, what if they actually do try to take him from us?" she asked quietly, voice slightly wet. Barry felt awkward standing there, witnessing what was obviously a private moment. They'd clearly forgotten he was still there. But at that, he couldn't help it. He let out a quick laugh, dragging their attention over to him.

"Ah, sorry," he said at the dour look Mary shot him.

"I would like to know what exactly you think is so funny about the thought of child services taking Wally away, Barry."

He raised his hands up in a placating gesture. "Ah, no, nothing like that! It's not funny at all. It's just…" he trailed off, trying to figure out how best to articulate the thought that had come into his mind.

"It's just what?" She was getting more incensed by the second. Barry shook his head and just went for it.

"It occurs to me that there's one person no one's actually taking into the equation at all." Both of them gave him blank looks. Barry scratched his head awkwardly, and adjusted his bowtie. He hated being on the spot like this, family or not. "Wally," he explained when he saw they clearly weren't getting it.

But it was like a lightbulb went off in Mary's head. Her face brightened, her whole countenance, in fact, and she, too, began to laugh. "You're right," she giggled, pressing her head into her husband's neck.

"Wally is the most stubborn kid I have ever met, and he has superpowers. If he doesn't want to go anywhere, there's no way they can make him. I would pay money to see them try and make him do something he doesn't want to."

"Like when you tried to tell him he couldn't be your sidekick," Mary added, laughing harder at the thought.

"Partner," he corrected automatically, even as he reminisced on the memory with a fond smile. At the time, his feelings had been anything but fond. He'd been worried and frustrated, and eternally irritated at his precocious twelve-year-old nephew. But the genius child that he was had basically stalked Barry and turned himself into the biggest nuisance in existence until his uncle had capitulated. By that point, he'd reasoned it was safer to keep an eye on the kid than let him wander around superpowered and unsupervised, getting into trouble. Since clearly he couldn't keep out of it and did, in fact, purposely bring it on himself when given the choice.

Mary's laughter died off, and she suddenly turned somber again, pushing herself away from her husband. "But Wally's not going to be happy when he finds out," she said. "Especially not after the last time." Barry hadn't been there for that, but Iris has filled him in on the whole situation shortly after she'd introduced him to her nephew. And Mary was completely right.

"No," Barry agreed, "he won't be. But I called up Roy and asked him to kidnap him for the weekend since we can't just send him off to the mountain with his team. This way he'll have some time to himself with one of his friends to destress before we spring this on him on top of everything else. And I'll get the League working on it. Everything will work out, I promise." He gave Mary a quick hug. "I have to get back to work now, but Iris and I'll be by later."

"Thank you," she said, "for everything."

"Any time." And then, a flash, and he was gone.

TBC...

This fic is not dead! It lives! The chapter's short which, sorry, after such a long time I really wanted to give you guys a long one. But I have more written and I've been writing like crazy so the next update really won't be as long as last time, that I absolutely promise. They brought Wally back in the comics and with it came my urge to write Wally fic now that the hurt is gone. Not the YJ hurt, that will never be gone.

Expect more from me in the future! I'm back to writing, guys. Sorry that I left for such a long time. I will do my best to make sure that doesn't happen again.