Henry Allen has Cancer

December 3, 2014: Barry reaches out to Felicity while dealing with some harrowing news.

Little Italy

It has the best tiramisu in the hemisphere.



  • Seikatsu (cameo)

Mood Music:

Barry is sitting in his apartment, lights off, scrolling through his contact list. He's stopped on several of the names. Cisco, Caitlyn, Joe. Iris.

He sets his phone down on the coffee table and his hands seem to be trembling. As if trying to quiet them he scratches his nails against the sides of his scalp. From the angle we can see there are tears in his eyes.

He tries Joe, because as his foster father, Joe is probably the best person to talk to in a situation like this. Barry gets voicemail.

He dials Felicity instead, "Felicity? Hey, can you talk?"

Felicity wasn't doing much of anything at this moment. Alright, she was doing something but nothing really becoming of a lady. She was sitting there upon the couch, in the dark herself, yet the flashes of the television was playing and.. god bless her..

She was watching 50 First Dates.

Say what you want about Adam Sandler, but he could be a true romantic. She was just at the end, watching with a tub of double chocolate fudge ice cream with chocolate chips added in, spooning a good heaping into her mouth as Drew Barrymore wakes up and realizes she has a belly full of fetus. And then she watches the video, then looks outside, only to be shocked because she's surrounded by an artic landscape that was so gorgeous.

"Oh gosh.." She starts, until her phone rings, which was picked up without looking.

"Felicity. Oh.. hi Barry. Yeah, I can talk. What's up." She stashes the ice cream, no one needs to see her pigging out, even if it was through the phone.

"Well," Barry says as he immediately regrets that he called. "I just needed to talk to someone. I told you about my father and everything he's been through. I just came from the prison—He has cancer." There's a brief pause before he adds, "He's wasted the best years of his life in there, and if I don't get him out soon, and get him some real treatment, he's going to die."

Felicity promptly picks up the remote and switches off the television. Cancer, it was serious business. The fact that something could be so casual and so deadly was simply.. tragic. He could probably hear her sigh on the other end.

"I'm so sorry Barry." She could do a lot, she knows she could. But where her thoughts went, it immediately went into the territory of..

That's illegal. And if you're caught, you're going under the jail and anyone else who had a hand in it.

So she does something else. She slides from the couch, and stands straight up. Even though she was in her teddy bear pajama pants and tank top, she was ready to fly out the door no matter her state.

"Tell me what you need." Her tone, it was serious. And she wouldn't take nevermind or forget it for an answer.

Barry sighs and leans back on his couch. "Honestly? I need a break in my mother's case. I've been over it, literally, a thousand times. Now I'm in panic mode because I know time is running out. I don't know what to do, to be honest."

Felicity sits right back down again, then stands up.. then thinks better of it all and sits right back down again.

"I know you went through everything with me once. Well, not everything. Just the bare bones. Let me help you? You know what they say, a fresh pair of eyes could actually help a little."

Barry nods, "Alright. It can't hurt. It's a lot of stuff; you mind coming over here?

He looks over on his other couch to see a sleeping Reese. He's going to have to get her sleeping in his room, but that's doable. "Look, you don't really have to do this if you don't want to. I know the weather is bad and that it's kind of a pain."

He could probably hear the jingling of keys. A bit of shuffling, a little swear word and.. the slamming of the door. "What? I didn't hear you."

Yes she did! She had her laptop slung over her shoulder, a pair of winter boots on, she didn't bother combing her hair down since a hat was sinched over it, and she was already bundled up and walking down the street.

"It's not that bad outside. At least we're in Little Italy and not Buffalo, right? Right?" She laughs, attempting to brighten him up. "Text me your address. I'm already walking."

"I'll see you in a few, Felicity." Barry chuckles into the phone and starts entering his address. He leans over to nudge Reese. "Hey, I have a friend coming over. You mind sleeping in my room?"

He heads into his room and begins to pull out box after box of evidence regarding the Nora Allen. Case reports, evidence, and the files from the court system relating to the trial of his father. It's all out there in all its glory.

It's been 20 years. He's not sure what he hopes to find.

Felicity hangs up the phone. There really was no need to say goodbye, she was already on her way.

And it takes a good minute. But she finds his place, immediately walking up to the door to give a good, hard knock. And it hurt her fingers! She was sooo cold!

If he were to open the door, he'd see a pale girl with super red cheeks, lips trembling and teeth chattering as she says.. "Hiiiiii Barry!" She'd push him to get into the house, but that would have been so rude.

"Hey," Barry says quietly as a dark haired woman tails behind him and heads off into what one might assume is the bedroom. "Thanks for coming," he says holding the door open for her. "You look cold; thank you so much for coming over. I don't know what we'll find, but I appreciate you coming over."

He holds the door open for her and scoots in a bit so she can get past him. Out past the entryway sit a pair of couches and about 8 boxes filled with case material. "You want anything to drink?"

Felicity leans to the side, spying the little dark haired lady with a slight smirk. "That your girlfriend?" She wasn't jealous, nope, not at all! But, she steps in, keeping the coat on for now as she takes her shoes off at the door. Her feet were red, forgoing the need for socks in order to rush right over to be with a friend. The hat was taken off soon there after, her fingers raking down her blonde hair as she looks around the place and smiles.

"Kinda looks like my space. And yes, coffee if you have it." And then it hits her. She forgot to put the ice cream away. Doh!

Finally, the coat was shrugged off and held in her arms as she moves towards the pair of couches, tossing it upon the seat as she flops right down next to it, the bag perfectly tucking itself beneath her arm before it was shrugged off and laid atop of her coat. "Is this everything?"

"Reese?" Barry shakes his head. "She's a temporary roommate. Doesn't have a place so we've been having her crash here." He adds, awkwardly: "I don't, uh, have a girlfriend or anything. I mean, I have girlfriends, like friends who are girls, but not anything that would necessitate the joining of the two words into one long word. Full of commitment. And ro-I'm going to go make coffee."

"Yeah that's everything," Barry says from the kitchen, diving into the coffee making. "Unless they kept anything in Central City. I'm not sure though. Singh pretty much let me take whatever I wanted, since I was family and a cop."

"Aha! Above and beyond with the law stuff." Felicity was impressed. She could imagine his dating profile right about now. A cop and a star citizen! Cha-ching with the pearly whites! Hearing him from the kitchen, she leans forward to try to lift a box from where she sits, struggling just a little.. then trying another.

"Oh just get up.." She mutters to herself, sliding forward and standing to pick up a box, then setting it upon the floor at her feet to rip off a box and get to work.

A stack of folders were soon placed within her lap, her glasses coming off to tuck in between her tank top as she dives into the files she randomly grabbed.

Gar Logan heads out to Lower Manhattan.

A few minutes later, Barry comes out with a cup of coffee. He doesn't drink the stuff himself. "How do you take it?" He watches over her, trying to see what she's looking at and figure out what she might be thinking.

"What about you? I mean, boyfriend. I mean, does your boyfriend care that you've been over to some guy's house? Or apartment, I mean because it's small and cramped."

"Ooh.." She leaves the files within her lap. She was preparing to look at the psychiatric files on Barry and his father, but stopped in order to grab that cup o' joe. "I like it hot, black and nasty!" She lets out a dry chuckle, one that almost seemed never ending. "I'm kidding. I always wanted to say that. Three sugars. But if you have creamer, I'd take the creamer instead. Flavored stuff."

She offers it back towards him then, glances away for a moment. "I.. well. He wouldn't say anything because he doesn't currently exist in this time-space continuum. But I imagine if I did have one, he would be okay. Because I'm helping someone out and being the good and loving person that he probably fell for in the first place." She wiggles briefly, then looks down towards the files.

"Your place is fine. But we need music. Hurry up and lets get to work."

"Sure," Barry says in response to the caffeinated request. He disappears but returns with the fixin's. To the bit about the boyfriend, Barry neglects to give a response. That was the second time he prodded, but frankly it's an inappropriate time and the first time he prodded it kind of got shot back in his face.

He pulls out a CD case and slides it across the table toward her. "Pick whatever you want," he says before taking a seat on the couch across the room. Then he slouches. Then he lays flat with his legs over the far arm. This is how he thinks. And burns off nervous energy.

Once he returns with the coffee, she immediately reaches out to take it and begins to sip. She could feel the heat in her bones; it warms her immediately as she begins to quietly look though the files. That was until the CD case was slid towards her, and soon that and her laptop was favored, assembling the bits on the couch next to her as the music begins to play.

She picked the Strokes.

"Any initial thoughts," Barry asks as he takes to throwing a tennis ball up in the air. And catching it. And taking a tennis ball, throwing it in the air. And catching it. And taking a tennis ball, throwing it in the air, and catching it.

"I realize you're probably going to think differently of me when you read that stuff, but if it gives me a sliver to help my dad, it'll be worth it."

Felicity remained quiet even after he finished talking. She was reading through the files, sipping her coffee, turning the page and biting upon her thumb nail. Her face wrinkles, then straightens, and with a sigh she's finished the first packet, her eyes cutting towards him.

"Barry?" She waits until he looks at her, if he does.

"You're nuts."

She laughs a little, then immediately tries to cover. "No. Honestly. You believed me when I told you that someone made an ice sculpture out of thin air. But this?" She lifts the file and drops it near him. "It's cruel. You were just a kid, looking for someone to be on his side. It doesn't matter if they believed you or not. They should have been there for you if they weren't."

She sighs a little, then looks back towards the stack of boxes, her lips pressing towards her mug as her eyes squint, deep in thought.

Barry laughs out loud; a deep, if short, bellow. "Yeah, I've been told that." He looks over long enough to have the tennis ball tap the edge of his fingers at the last second, glance off and hit him where the eye socket meets the nose. He bats at it a bit, before trying to regain his composure.

He noticed her seemingly overwhelmed.

"Yeah, it's a lot. Don't worry, I don't expect you to get through it all."

Felicity looks at the right moment, then looks away! She saw nothing!

"It is a lot. Here. Let's spread everything out. Get a bigger visual."

It was going to be a long day leading into the night, or night leading into the day. But they were going to be busy. By the end of it all, each box and file folder would be empty, possibly scattered across the room, some tacked to a board possibly out of order, but at least it was a start. And once that was done?

Felicity possibly would have been passed out on the floor, or on the couch, whatever CD that was in the laptop playing for the moment stuck on random.

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