Love Can't Stand Alone

summary: Three times in 15 years, Joe watched Barry's heart be broken by his own father. The first time was by force, the second was by choice, and the third was in death. Barry knew his father loved him, but love alone can not sustain a person. But Barry would make it because Joe would carry him.

genre: Angst, Hurt-Comfort, Family, Drama

rated: T

authors note: title inspiration and lyrics are from "Love Can't Stand Alone" by Bear's Den. I am constantly inspired by Joe's love for Barry; to love a child that isn't yours, a love that goes beyond blood, is just heroic to me.

I also made a video to this song for Joe and Barry. Feel free to check it out!

watch?v=mQozVFV_ACA

First

I remember the night you lost to me

All of the fires still burn within

You started choking down vitamins

If I mentioned his name I was sent to bed

You check if I'd gone to sleep

And I closed my eyes and heard you leave

I pray for the day my prayers will mend

But nothing ever came that was heaven sent

Joe West climbed the stairs slowly and cautiously through his dimly lit home, sock clad feet almost moving soundlessly across the wood staircase as he approached the first door in the upstairs hall. What used to be the guest bedroom now was becoming known as Barry Allen's room.

It had been a hard day for the eleven year old boy. He'd only been living in the West household for two weeks now. His first week with them Barry was quiet, hardly saying anything, suffering his grief silently. The second week was rough, his grief consuming him until it became a desperate rage. Barry kept trying to run away to see his dad, had screamed at Joe that he wasn't his father and that he hated him. After a week of repeated failed attempts at running away, Barry had finally been able to escape Joe's watchful eye and ran all the way to Iron Heights.

Despite disobeying him, Joe couldn't find it in him to be mad with the boy. Barry wasn't trying to run away from, he was trying to run away to. The young boy was desperate to see his father. It had only been two weeks since the night that changed his whole world; having both his mother and father ripped away from him suddenly in the same night, his whole life uprooted and thrown into a chaotic and emotional mess.

The hardest part of the week though was tonight when Barry finally succeeded in seeing his father only to find out that it was Henry keeping him from visiting, not Joe.

"It isn't Joe that doesn't want you to come here," Henry was quick to squash any blame on Joe but his next words devastated Barry. "I don't want you to come here. I don't want you to see me like this."

Joe entered just as Barry pleaded with the guard to let Henry go. Henry stopped him though, expressing to his son that he couldn't help him and that he would be staying with Joe, the young boy's heart breaking at Henry's words. As Joe watched Henry pull Barry in for a hug, Joe fought down his anger, fought the urge to pull Barry away from the man who had killed his mother in front of him. Yes, Henry was still Barry's father but Joe couldn't see past the crime, couldn't forgive him for traumatizing his own son like that.

Henry was ushered out of the visitation room, leaving Barry to call out after him. Joe remained in the background as the sad eyes followed Henry till he was out of sight, willing him to return. Barry stood there for a few more minutes before finally turning towards Joe.

"I'm sorry, Joe," Barry's voice was quiet, head hung as he fought back tears.

"Barry," Joe knelt down to one knee as Barry came to stand before him, placing a hand on the kid's shoulder. "I understand why you did it, but I'm responsible for you now. I care about you, please don't ever run away like this again."

"I won't," Barry finally looked up at him, tears gathering in his eyes. "I'm sorry I said that I-"

"Don't worry about it," Joe interrupted as he stood, not wanting to make the boy suffer anymore. He patted Barry on the shoulder, motioning the boy to walk ahead of him as they exited the room. "Let's go home."

The car ride had been silent. Joe spared glances to Barry in the passenger seat, looking out the window, quiet tears spilling from his eyes. Nothing was said when they got home either. Barry went straight to his room, skipping dinner again and silently grieving in his room, just like he had each night for the past two weeks.

Joe's hand slowly twisted the knob while the other gripped the inner edge of the door as he slowly eased it open. Usually Joe would bring a bowl of cereal or sandwich and leave it on the desk in the room for Barry incase he got hungry, only to find it barely touched the morning after. Tonight though, Joe skipped the food delivery and decided to just check on him.

As Joe peeked his head in, a small stream of low light cast through the room. He entered the room softly and he could see the dried tear tracks on the young boy's cheeks as he lay face down on his bed. His back rose and fell evenly in undisturbed rest. Another night spent crying himself to sleep. It broke Joe's heart to see such a good kid be so broken.

Being a cop, he'd arrested plenty of people, young and old, that went down the wrong path that started as a child. Statistics showed that children from broken families had a higher risk of having a weaker sense of connection, a loss of a sense of community, and prone to crime, social chaos, and violence. He'd seen plenty of times what suffering a loss, a tragedy, abuse, or whatever terrible thing that should never happen to a child and what could happen when it did. Joe knew that foster kids were at a greater risk than their peers, experiencing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder at twice the rate of war veterans. One in three struggled in school, forty-thee percent didn't graduate from high school or earn their GED, thirty percent of boys would be arrested by their nineteenth birthday.

But the young boy sleeping in front of him wasn't a statistic. He was a living, breathing child that Joe cared about. Barry was a smart, funny, kind boy. Joe had heard stories from Iris about Barry standing up for kids in school when they were bullied, how he'd never fight back but would instead try to pull attention from the bullies' victims and then run away. She told him how Barry would often be bullied for being the scrawny weirdo who liked science, and now Joe knew Barry would be picked on for being the scrawny weirdo who liked science and watched his dad kill his mom. But Barry had a light in him that impressed Joe, that Joe was hard pressed to think would ever dim down. But the truth was tragedy could break a full grown adult, not to mention a young kid.

Things weren't going to get easier for Barry. He would have to live with the burden of his mother's death, the loss of his father's daily presence, and adjust to a new way of existing. Nightmares, anxiety, and loneliness were going to become familiar partners in Barry's life. This was just the beginning of his struggle. Yes, it would be difficult for Joe and Iris too. He didn't regret taking Barry in, but he would be lying if he didn't think that maybe there was someone else who could do better. But he couldn't send Barry away, even if he thought it was for the best. He'd just been abandoned, left all alone by the most important people in his life. Joe couldn't bear the thought of Barry thinking that he was abandoning him too. So Joe vowed that he would provide all the love and support that Barry would need to make sure he always stayed that smart, funny, kind boy.

Even though he slept peacefully now, Joe knew the nightmares that plagued Barry every other night or so would be sure to come tonight. He saw the framed photo of the smiling Allen family, father, mother, and son posed picture perfectly in the cherry wooden frame in the lax grasp of the eleven year old's hand. Joe gently eased it from beneath Barry's hand and placed it safely on the bedside nightstand. Looking down at Barry, he brushed a gentle hand through the light brown hair. He couldn't be mad at Barry, not for desperately clinging to and craving the family he knew.

Grabbing the throw blanket from the foot of the bed, Joe delicately draped it over the resting child, noting that Barry was still dressed his day clothes, not even changing into his pajamas.

Joe hovered over the bed for a moment before moving across the bedroom, taking note of the room that used to be the guest room for when Grandma Esther came to visit or his father before he passed. But now it was Barry's room; and if the Allen case went the way he thought it would, it would be Barry's room for at least the next seven years until Barry turned eighteen. The only indication that someone was taking up residence here was the duffle bag of scattered belongings Joe could grab the day after the murder, a bright red school backpack, a suitcase full of clothes, and the young boy lying in the bed.

The young boy Iris met on the first day of fourth grade, who she got paired with for a school project, brought home the next day declaring to her father this was her new best friend; a slightly awkward yet funny boy who bounded with energy and light who had been inseparable from his daughter since. He'd spent many days over the West house before the night that brought him to them long term. When Joe had gone back to the Allen residence to gather things Barry might need, he'd been offered up a garbage bag by another officer. This young boy he'd come to care about over the last year and a half before becoming his guardian had just lost his family, his home, Joe would be damned if he brought Barry's belongings to him in a garbage bag. So Joe went home, grabbed a suitcase, and returned to the Allen household. He packed Barry's clothes inside, folding them with care, spotting a duffle bag in the boys closet which he used for some things like books and toys.

Two weeks later and everything was still being pulled from the duffel and suitcase as they were needed, Barry making no attempt to settle in. Joe couldn't blame him. He hadn't accepted this is as new home yet and Joe knew that it would take time. Joe could give him that. He could give him time and support and anything he could need to adjust and move forward, to get back to the light that Barry had radiated since that first day Iris brought him home.

Joe brought the armchair from the other side of the room to move it to Barry's bedside. Plopping his tired body down into the chair, Joe watched the slow rise and fall of Barry's sleeping body, deciding that tonight if Barry woke he wouldn't be alone; decided that with everything he had in him Joe would make sure Barry would never feel alone again.