All Out War

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I gave Barry the space he needed with his dad. I understood the gravity of their reunion. After all, Henry had witnessed his son's supposed death. It must have been a weight I couldn't fathom. The thought alone was enough to break me.

The following day, Barry broached a topic we'd never explored together before. He invited me to accompany him to visit his mother's grave. Naturally, I readily agreed; I wouldn't refuse him something so significant.

As we stood amidst the serene rows of tombstones, there was a palpable sense of reverence in the air. The quiet rustle of leaves and distant birdsong provided a gentle backdrop to the solemnity of the occasion. Barry's expression held a mixture of longing and melancholy, his eyes fixed on the marker that bore his mother's name. I could sense the weight of the past pressing on him, the unspoken words and untold stories that lingered in the air.

Barry kindly suggested we also pay a visit to my parents' resting place, but the thought was a heavy one for me. It had been a year since I last stood before their graves, emerging from my secondary coma. Even now, the idea of facing those emotions felt like stepping into a storm. The graveyard held both the solace of memory and the sting of loss, and I knew that when the time was right, I would return.

As we approached her gravestones, Barry gripped his backpack as he handed me the umbrella. He placed the bag onto the ground and stared at her stone which read Beloved Wife and Mother Nora Allen 1959-2000.

Barry's voice carried a tender nostalgia as he spoke, "Joe offered to take me so many times. I always found an excuse to say no." He then unveiled a stunning bouquet of lilies, a delicate symbol of remembrance. Alongside it, a children's book featuring a cheerful dinosaur caught my eye.

A soft chuckle escaped him as he looked up, his eyes dancing with memories. "My mom and I used to read this when I was little. Do you remember it?"

"The Runaway Dinosaur," I mused, the title unlocking a flood of cherished recollections. "Actually, yeah. My dad used to read it to me when I had dreams of joining the track team."

Barry's playful comment about my past aspirations drew a light laugh from me. "Track team? Seems a bit off for the nerd."

I met his gaze, a sudden solemnity settling in. "You know me, I always liked to surprise. But that dream... it faded away when they did. After they were gone, I never found anyone who was just right, someone who was always there." The weight of my words hung in the air, a testament to the gravity of the day.

"You have me now," Barry's voice held a newfound wisdom, a clarity born of his time in the Speed Force. "Being in there, taught me something crucial. I need to see things differently. I have to let go of the anger and hold on to what I still have. Our past, as painful as it was, shaped us into who we are."

His hand cupped my cheek, gently lifting my gaze to meet his. "As challenging as our journey has been, we can't alter it. But we can cherish what we have. I have my dad, Joe, Iris, and you. I don't know where our path leads, but I do know that you mean everything to me. You did from the moment you walked into my life, and the sound of your voice will forever be my beacon to bring me home."

Tears welled in my eyes, a mixture of gratitude, love, and a newfound understanding of the depth of our connection. I drew him into an embrace, holding him as if he were the anchor to my soul. In that moment, Barry's vulnerability was a gift, a testament to the trust he placed in me. Having struggled with opening up myself, I knew the courage it took. Our hearts beat in sync, a testament to the strength of our bond.

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Central City became a battleground, engulfed in chaos and turmoil. The night sky was painted with fiery streaks, casting an eerie glow over the cityscape. Each falling ember carried with it a spark of destruction, leaving smouldering remnants in its wake.

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