entranceway | ( action | text ) here's to all the hearts that didn't make it home

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( action | text ) here's to all the hearts that didn't make it home

[ it is (was?) the season to be jolly, and iris west~~-allen~~ is a terrible gift-giver.

she could probably do worse if she made the effort, but that's not saying much. thankfully, she won't realize the full extent of how lacking her gift is in comparison to barry's. he is currently ushering her through a door, asking that she cover her eyes to keep the surprise intact. she can hear the boyish excitement in his voice, and as always, it's infectious. a flutter rises in her stomach as she waits. ] Open your eyes ... now!

[ and open her eyes she does.

barry is no longer anywhere to be found, and instead of a newly leased apartment, iris finds herself in wonderland again. at least the rabbit hole was thoughtful this time around: it's let her to the mansion steps. it's snowing. it wasn't snowing before when she — when she what?

a light shiver creeps up her spine as iris finds her way inside.

it takes several minutes, perhaps longer than that, for the full weight of her memories to return to her. they come back in pieces, and confusion soon gives way to apprehension. she's been here before. but that doesn't make sense, she was home and how could she possibly forget in the interim?

the click-clack of high heels signals her arrival, her eyes taking everything in. old memories coalesce with new ones, and she almost sways to the side at the impact. this isn't the wonderland she remembers. not exactly. and everything is so quiet, as if the whole world is sleeping. iris takes off her coat, the red velvet dress she wears underneath it suggesting she'd been having a celebration of her own. it's winter in wonderland: how much has she missed?

her steps quicken, iris now in full search mode. she won't stop until she sees a familiar face. ]

----------------

[ iris west is a reporter back in her home world, and it's a shame she has not taken advantage of the network as much as she should. tends to happen when you lose yourself digging up info within the network. ten years worth of it. her notes went missing the day she did, so she'll have to start from the ground up.

let us tell you, it won't be easy. but it's also not impossible.

to iris west, impossible is nothing.

once she is more or less settled in and let those closest to her know she has returned, she reaches out to the network. ]

I've got a few questions for you, Wonderland.

Specifically, I have questions for those of you who've been sent home and were brought back. Note: I won't turn down information even if this technically doesn't apply to you. I'll take everything you've got.

1. Were you able to remember anything about Wonderland while you were home?
2. How long were you gone Wonderland-wise, and were all your Wonderland memories intact when you returned?

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[ iris takes a step forward along with barry, her fingers curling around his before they can slip away for good.

her mouth opens to say something. anything.

it's hard to determine what that something was going to be. he's drenched from head to toe, and though the sight of those converse sneakers would make her smile under any other circumstance, she knows what he was using them for. she's walked down this path already. and in wonderland, she's walked it alone. ]

Right. Of course.

[ she is usually the one suggesting barry get himself dry. she's also never been in this situation before. knowing more than he does. living and loving more than he does. it brings back those nerves that had been entirely unfamiliar to her until recently, particularly when he mentions a date. ] I'll tell you all about it once you're dry and I'm out of these clothes. [ wait. ] And into new clothes. [ t h r o a t - c l e a r i n g. ] My stuff's gone, isn't it?

[ he looks sympathetic, like he's delivering bad news. he supposes he is, even though it's not the worst thing in the world. ] Yeah. I tried to find some of your stuff, but Wonderland was just too quick for me. [ he shrugs, hands slapping against his jeans. he regrets it as soon as he does it, as it only reminds him that he's drenched and his excuses have worn themselves thin with both him and her. ]

[ the desire to lie doesn't rear its ugly head. he's soaked, she's standing in a really pretty dress, and he suspects his belief she knows something he doesn't is what's making the entire situation feel a little lopsided. it may also feel lopsided because barry allen's just tired of keeping up a facade that's kept the ground even for a short amount of time. ]

[ he's only ever been awkward with iris a few significant times in his life, but now isn't going to add itself to the list. he reaches for her hand, tentatively curls his fingers around hers, the reason behind the lightness of his touch being he's soaked and sometimes it's uncomfortable to hold the hand of someone who feels like a fish. ]

Do you think maybe I should get a sign that says the floor's wet?

Edited 2016-12-27 00:42 (UTC)

[ but he's such a cute fish.

and he's been holding himself together as best he can, taking it all on as though every single burden is his to bear, without letting anyone know how close he's been to breaking. timelines can make things so tricky, and they took harry's warnings to heart for valid reasons, but it also meant their friends were in the dark about how much barry has lost. again. she once promised him he'd never have to know what it's like to do this, any of this, without her. she intends to keep that promise. ]

I think, if I'm remembering correctly, Wonderland will take care of that on its own.

[ but a sign never hurts.

where his hold is light, hers is firm, locking their fingers together more securely. she's already tugging barry in the direction of the staircase, her memory no longer fuzzy now that she has seen him. she remembers these hallways, these mirrors, these rooms. she knows in her heart of hearts they won't get to decide when they leave again. ]

[ he looks over his shoulder at the wet puddles he's left on the floor, but he doesn't break away from iris to go fix it. he could easily clean that up with a few choice steps and create a whirlwind to evaporate it, but barry allen can't and shouldn't fix everything. ]

[ besides, while she's getting dressed he plans on coming back to put a sign there. ]

[ for now, that plan seems to solidify itself as a fixed point, even though there's a good chance it won't be. with her hand more firmly in his, barry's no longer quite afraid of holding it with his wet fingers. his own grip tightens as he walks at a pace that's more comfortable. no running. no crackling of electricity. the flash doesn't need to be here right now, even though he's sure it might make the entire walk to his room be quicker. ]

[ but not everything needs to be rushed. ]

[ except for this: as he walks, he looks down at her, and his entire energy changes from being slightly demure to being much brighter. ] How's Joe and Wally? You would've been home for ... a while. [ it hadn't been christmas when they'd been on the porch and he'd made a choice he's still flip-flopping on. ] They're okay, right?

They're good.

[ there's a small pause following her assurance, almost as if she meant to add now. they're okay now.

iris believes everything worked itself out. she has no idea savitar's predictions end up being true. all the same, it took a lot to get to that point. the process of wally acquiring his speedster powers was scary, with alchemy (or who they thought was alchemy) holding wally so tight in his clutches. as far as iris is concerned, the stone is lost in the speed force, and they can finally breathe easy, at least for a little bit. she doesn't expect things in central city to remain peaceful for good.

she doesn't know if she can hide anything from barry, and she has no intentions of doing so, but she also intends to ease him into it. there's no harm in starting with something good, is there? especially if he's asking. her thumb brushes the surface of his hand affectionately, glancing at him with a sideways smirk. ]

My dad's dating the D.A., if you can believe it. [ iris likes cecile. more importantly, she likes joe happy. ]

[ barry stops in his tracks, his face lighting up as his mouth drops open. ] For real? [ his fingers squeeze hers as he stops being so focused on where he is and who he's with. he begins walking again, ] I knew it. He's been giving her the eyes, and I knew it.

[ except it belongs in another timeline, unbeknownst to barry. he can easily think of what his actions will do — he's going to go back in time and save nora allen — but he doesn't think they'll change much. if anything, they'll only change the circumstances of him growing up, of how he'd been picked on in school for having a father who was charged with murdering his mother. it's not a big loss, in his opinion. ]

[ although he does know it changes things for him and joe, but he wants to believe it would only be so miniscule. if he doesn't think outside of the box, the box he's in doesn't become scary at all. ]

[ still smiling, he shakes his head in disbelief. the uncertainty and general overwhelming feeling of being directionless in wonderland dissipates, even if it's destined to be gone for a short time. joe west is happy, and he's letting himself finally let the woman who's been throwing herself on the line for him embarrass him. it's the best news he's heard since iris' return to wonderland, but at least he knows that that's waiting for him back home. ]

[ good things can still happen. barry'll always believe that, even in his darkest of moments. ]

That's so good. I think Cecile's liked him for a while. Don't tell him, though. It'll go to his head.

Oh, you don't have to tell me twice. That man does not need any more proof.

[ he did, however, need encouragement.

joe west has been father and detective, and only father and detective, for far too long. francine's return, brief and painful though it was, likely reopened some very old wounds that hadn't fully healed. iris had to nudge him along, and so did barry; he had known cecile's been crushing on joe for a while now. joe needs his kids, and that may be all he'll ever need, if push came to shove. but why shouldn't he have more? iris was falling in love again, and she wanted joe to have that feeling, too.

that feeling that makes you soar. that feeling that makes you believe anything is possible. barry gave that to her, and she likes to believe that joe can feel it again, too. for every painful ending, there's a new beginning. she thinks barry was finally starting to learn.

they reach his room, and iris brings herself to a stop right beside the door. she leans against the wall, gaze drifting down to their linked hands. it's so natural now to hold his hand. to be a certain way around him. she doesn't know if she can turn that off. ] Meet you back here in fifteen?

[ when barry had first arrived in wonderland and had learned he had been here before, he'd been excited by all the possibilities. he got to relearn this place again, make new memories, perhaps even relive previous ones. it'd changed things for him, giving him a sense of what it must be like to be on the other side of the looking glass. he's usually the one who knows everything, but now he doesn't. ]

[ knowing he's missed out on something may see him smile when he hears it, but it introduces a sense of yearning in the pit of his stomach. he wants it: to experience it, not to hear about it. is this what it's like to be on the receiving end of hearing about his own adventures? ]

[ barry opens his mouth then closes it, looking around as he sees the familiar corridor. he nods his head, ] Yeah. Not a second later.

[ forgetting that their hands are linked, he only feels the press of hers a second later. looking down, he lets out an ] Oh. Yeah. You're going to need this back. [ and lets go of her hand (clumsily) and is filled with the awkwardness that sees his feet not quite knowing where to land. when he thinks too hard, he's all out of sorts. ]

[ he doesn't disappear behind his door first. he'll let her take the title. ]

[ her smile widens a fraction. in spite of herself. her lashes flutter upward as the smile lingers. ]

Just for a little while. You can have it back later.

[ she stands there like an idiot, waiting for him to step into his room, and when he doesn't, it occurs to her that he is waiting for her to go first. so she swivels in place and walks down to the room right next to his. it may be bare, but it's still hers if she has something to say about it, and iris is going to reclaim it. she can't pretend she never left, and she's all too aware there are things she has missed, but it wouldn't feel right to be anywhere else.

as she steps in and closes the door behind her, the room is already shifting into earthier, warmer tones that go with her personality. she hasn't forgotten how to work the closets, so it's fifteen minutes later — on the dot — that iris walks back to his room, changed into something less fancy. ]

[ barry chooses not to be himself and overthink it. a hand's a hand, but barry allen's always thought of it to be more than that when it's outstretched toward him. he tries to put on a strong front of being impossibly untouchable, but when someone sees through it, it only circles back to his belief the impossible is possible. ]

[ he steps into his room and dries himself the old-fashioned way: stripping himself of his clothes and towelling himself dry. his hair's a worse nest now with the strands sticking up on all corners. with his shoes drenched, he picks them up and dries them by propelling his arms quickly. ]

[ drying himself off does nothing to help him regain his balance. he should've known. his powers have never really helped him gain much balance when it comes to iris west. ]

[ uncharacteristically on time, he opens his door just as she appears in front of it. ] Hey. Just on time. Do you want to — [ he moves away from blocking the space of his door, pulling it wider as an invitation for her to step inside. ]

[ his room is still the same: white. barry-less. the runaway dinosaur still sits on his bedside table. there's a normal looking treadmill in the corner that has a few burn marks on it, but nonetheless not much has changed at all. ]

[ the smile iris had reserved for him fades once more as she lets herself in.

she'd been a moment away from teasing him, a remark about punctuality or something like it, when the words die in her throat.

everything about this room is as she remembers it: cold, detached, impersonal.

iris didn't have the heart to push him the first time around. henry had just died — no, henry had been killed — and barry was grieving, or so iris had surmised. she hadn't been in his room since, and the whiteness of its walls is especially glaring considering how the rest of the mansion looks now. she knows him well enough; she doesn't have to ask why he's surrounded himself with this absence of warmth. the fact it hasn't changed is telling. so telling, in fact, she can't bring herself to speak just yet.

it's hard not to feel like she's failed him, just a little, by not seeing the signs sooner. ]

[ if anyone's to be on the receiving end of oliver's guilt-trip "you've failed this city", it's the flash. ]

[ his room's changed a few times over. a day during the christmas event when he'd fallen asleep and forgotten everything, he knows he'd woken up to his room looking just like his in his old home. that'd been after he'd opened the jar and released the memory of mom dying in the living room. after taking a few hours to try and place it, he remembers it not quite being the one of him as a kid, but as an adult, giving her a peace no one else could've gifted her but him. ]

[ the browns on his walls had scared him when he'd woken up after a nap he'd accidentally drifted into, and it's remained white ever since. it doesn't even flicker now with portions of it bleeding colour. ]

[ closing his door behind them, he looks at iris and furrows his brow. once she'd told him she knew when he was sad, depressed, happy, guilty, and the same can be said for him. although he's never been good at reading when someone feels responsible for him. ]

You okay?

I know, Barry.

[ it was only fifteen minutes, but those fifteen minutes were enough for iris to think long and hard about what she wanted to say to him and how she wanted to say it. it was enough for her to take into consideration the importance of keeping certain things to herself and the risk involved with disregarding that. but she also remembered the ease with which he told her about earth-2. the ease with which she'd listened, not even considering that they shouldn't talk about it.

because they should talk about everything.

now that she stands before him, the answer leaves her less than eloquently. she can't hold it in anymore. she doesn't know how he did. ]

I know why you've been ending up in the pool, and I know what you want to go back home for. I know what you want to do. [ and she knows because he's already done it where she is from. he went back in time to save nora allen, and everything changed. again. ]

[ barry wrings his hands together. ]

I … [ he ducks his head, shaking it. he's been running hard and fast to become a bullet against wonderland and pop its magical barrier to see where else he can go. it'd first began as his attempt to investigate the land in his own way, but the reasoning he'd told himself had been to trick himself into believing it was the only way. it's what he wants to tell iris: he's been in the pool because he's searching for a way out, but where he's looking for a rabbit hole isn't where everyone else is. he's been lying to himself. ]

[ the reason for him running relentlessly toward the open space of the land beyond is partly out of a need to know more, but it's not for a reason that's solely based in wonderland. ]

[ his hands still, remaining locked together, and when he thinks to pull them apart, he doesn't. looking up at her, he steels himself with an inhale through his nose, and finds his fingers play with themselves, as though he's feeling the words even though he's never quite had to with iris. ]

[ pressing his lips together, his expression crumbles. he takes a step toward her than stops himself. ] I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. [ his hands may still for a second, but then his shoulders move in a helpless half-shrug. he looks off to the side and finds the words are hard to say. ] I just felt ashamed for it.

[ barry may stop himself, but iris doesn't. where he is irresolute, she fills the spaces with her certainty. she cups his face as it crumples, if only so that he will look at her when she speaks. there is neither pride nor demand in what she says. it's simply fact, and nothing can change that. ]

Barry, I love you, and there is nothing you should feel ashamed of. Not with me.

[ iris is not here to be his judge or jury, and he's been punishing himself enough. she's been there every step of the way, watching as it tears him up inside. watching as he drives himself mad with the constant what ifs. she is not eager to give him more to carry.

and she knows that he will carry it. barry carries everything. ]

You won't remember this, but back home you gave me a choice, and I'm going to do the same for you. I will tell you what you want to know. But I need you to make sure you really want to know it. [ because he can't change it. certainly not from here. ]

[ barry stills when she approaches him, and doesn't shift his face from her hold. instead, he seems to deflate. all that extra energy he's been using to try and keep himself standing tall and unbreakable can be stored away for now. he doesn't need to pretend here. ]

[ the nod of his head is small and soft, but evident enough with his face in her hands. it's not shame with iris he's been trying to avoid, but the shame that he feels from himself. ]

[ quietly, ] I want to know it. [ his hands move from hanging uselessly at his sides, fingers curling around her forearms gently. his reason for wanting to know isn't so he can go back and fix it, even though he knows he'll feel the urge to, and it's primarily not to pull any weight off her shoulders. barry needs to understand the consequences of his actions, as well as the potential positives. ]

[ he can't afford not to know, not with thawne speeding around in wonderland, and especially not when he can so easily ignore the strength and damage of his own abilities and choices. ]

Come on. [ just as quietly, his hands slide up to her own, fingers peeling beneath her palms to take them in his hands. he lets one go as he turns to lead her toward his bed to sit on. ]

[ it wasn't that long ago iris confronted barry, teary-eyed and confused, demanding to know the truth. she'd said to him then that they could never happen so as long as there were lies. they don't work, in any capacity, when there are secrets between them. she still believes that to be true, even if she is the one holding the future in her palm now. she wouldn't be able to hide any of it from him. he'd sense something was wrong, something was withheld, and he'd ask.

harrison wells will have to deal with that.

iris keeps hold of barry's hands, the pads of her fingers pressing into his palms. she sits across from him on the bed, close enough to be within reach and far enough that he can see her face as she tells him. all of it. it's not the triumph he was likely hoping for. ]

You go back.

[ her voice grows impossibly quiet. how many years did he mourn nora allen? how many years did everyone call him crazy for speaking of the man in yellow? ] You go back to that night and you save Nora Allen, creating a new reality. You said it was called Flashpoint.

[ he saves nora allen. ]

[ barry shifts noticeably when she tells him that. instead of it combusting anything heavy inside of his chest, it only seems to weigh him down a little more. the emptiness inside of him had started when nora had died, and he hadn't been able to understand the reason why she'd been taken from him in a blur of red and yellow. regardless of how many times he'd been told he'd been imagining things, making it up so he could protect himself from the truth of henry allen murdering his wife before him, he'd always believed it. red and yellow had danced around nora allen, and he's always been drawn to those two colours ever since. ]

[ he draws in a breath, leaning back slightly to keep himself from properly bending in half and looking down at his shoes. one leg's tucked underneath him, the other hanging like a long, thin branch over the side of the bed. it's still a decision he wants to make, partly the driving force behind him attempting to break through wonderland. if he can fix that, he can come back here and play out whatever role he's meant to until he finds the exit sign above another rabbit hole. ]

[ but it's not that simple. barry knows that, even if he's been ignoring it. ]

I shouldn't have done that. [ he doesn't phrase it like a question, already knowing the answer. his conclusion lacks much of the passion it should have. barry had wanted to say it like he meant it, but he doesn't. nora allen didn't deserve to die, and barry needs to fix it. the way he's going about it just isn't the right way, but it's the only one he knows. ]

I don't know everything about Flashpoint.

[ it's important to give that disclaimer. iris chose to remain in the dark about it. the way she saw it, she would always be iris, and she would always find barry and vice versa, whatever had become of their reality. but eventually, there were things he was forced to tell them, because it all started affecting the reset timeline. the rival was only the first of many incidents that trickled over, and iris is trying hard to keep this story linear without overwhelming him.

she knows it's a lot to take in. it was a lot to take in when he confessed to his family — for that is what they all are — what happened. ]

But I know both your parents were alive. My dad and I didn't get along. Wally was the Flash.

[ a small pause, and a flimsy, pitiful attempt at a smile. ] Kid Flash.

[ barry really can't deny that he feels hopeful at the fact both mom and dad were alive, brought back by his actions. it feels right, even though the circumstances behind it are far from it — and he can already see the cracks in his choice, a rift between iris and joe, and wally …. still being a part of the family, but perhaps taking his spot in it as the stupid hero. ]

[ he has no right to be jealous, but it's always been a simple fact: barry allen likes being a part of the west family, even though he knows wally's joe's son first and foremost, and he'd simply been given the opportunity to be in a household that he knew when dad was sent to iron heights. by luck, he'd been taken in by the wests, but with mom and dad alive ... dad never would've been taken from him in the first place. his choice has taken him away from joe, and that doesn't sit well with barry at all. ]

[ it's very simple math. barry suspects where he sat with the wests in flashpoint, and it's not at their dinner table every night, sleeping under their roof, and being on the receiving end of joe's dadisms. ]

[ his brows rise, and he doesn't know how to feel — elated? incredulous? — so he settles for both. ] Wally's Kid Flash? [ his gaze drifts to the side as his eyes narrow. there'd been the particle accelerator explosion on their end, ripping him apart and tossing him into the speed force's arms, and wally and jesse had been hit with matter that should've altered their physiology. lightly laughing incredulously, he shakes his head, ] I never thought I'd ever want a sidekick, but I'm glad it's Wally.

[ his lips curve upward, then he looks to iris, suddenly turning serious. ] Don't tell him I called him a sidekick. I need him to like me.

[ iris smiles halfheartedly at barry's reaction, but it's likely evident she doesn't share his delight.

wally accused joe of not trusting him with speedster powers, and he hadn't been entirely wrong. iris is his big sister, and she will always want to protect him. she still worries about the thought of wally having barry's abilities, but she also finally understands wally shares so many of the traits she sees in both barry and joe. nothing was going to stop him from becoming kid flash, and iris opposing him was only making him that much more vehement.

the costume they gave wally for christmas was in many ways symbolic. it was acceptance. it was the encouragement wally had been yearning for. ]

He does like you. And he loves being a speedster now. But ... [ her voice trails off. bad news is forever laced with the good. it's unavoidable. ] Wally was fighting another speedster called the Rival, and he got hurt. Really badly. Things kept spinning out of control the longer you were in Flashpoint, and you had to reset the timeline. It just never fully went back to the way it was. [ he tried so hard to put it all back together. he did.

but the cup was already chipped. ]

[ he's never expressed it, but he'd been glad to know neither jesse nor wally had abilities from the dark matter explosion within star labs the second time it had hit him. the desire isn't born from his desire to be the only special one within the group, as it's far from it. it's because of what it's taken from him — time, nine months of it, and people. ]

[ his smile fades as he mentally catalogues that name somewhere safe where it'll hopefully stick, storing it far from the magic of wonderland and its ability to take and give and even replace from him. he's tired of being taken by surprise, even though barry knows he doesn't possess the almanac as marty mcfly once did. nothing good can come of it, though; he'd learned that with iris and thawne, two respective occasions where he almost ruined the timeline with impatience. ]

[ looking at her, he glances down at their hands. his thumb's been sweeping over the back of her hand until he's looked down and stopped it. barry doesn't need to know every single detail, as he's perfectly capable of stringing the pieces together himself. that mind of his works quickly, and who else knows how desperately he wants to save everyone but the man who's gone back in time and doomed them all? ]

My mom … [ he runs his tongue over his teeth, inhaling deeply through his nose. it does nothing to silence the butterflies burning in his chest. looking up at her, he feels his eyes burn. ] My mom's not alive, is she?

[ oh, this is the part she was bracing herself for.

it's almost like losing nora allen all over again, isn't it? nora and henry. there's a part of barry that never left his living room, long before zoom ever thrust him back into it. there's a reason (several reasons) why iris never liked the runaway dinosaur, and the look on barry's face in this moment is part of it. but if barry is going to hear it from anybody, iris would rather he hear it from her. her fingers curl tighter around his hands, and she inches closer, soundless from where she once sat.

her eyes burn, filled with love and sadness and hope and understanding.

iris never runs out of understanding. ]

No, baby. She's not.

[ it doesn't matter how hard he tries to keep his expression composed, it inevitably crumbles. with iris, it's a lot quicker, lasting for only a second as it doesn't need to take long for the meaning of his actions to hit him. ]

[ things have changed, and it's been for nothing. iris' own words have given him little confidence things have gone back to how they should've. (he should've known, the two times he's gone back have shown him the pieces never fit smoothly together; hartley had been an ally instead of an enemy and cisco's life had been spared. he'd regretted neither of those moments in his life, inadvertently saving a friend and learning a little more about thawne and his own speed.) ]

[ even though he's thought about it in wonderland, barry knows that regardless of what conclusion he comes to, he'll remain in that tunnel and leap out to meet that fateful night of 2000, and save nora allen. it doesn't matter how many times he comes to the conclusion he shouldn't, the reasons outweighing this very selfish want of his own. he has to do it. barry has to know whether or not nora allen's fate can change, and if it being a fixed point is true or not. it's the only way to see if that pain goes away. ]

[ he doesn't remove his hands from hers. fingers tightening around her own, he lifts them as he bows toward them, folding himself over as they inevitably come to rest on iris' lap. he rests his forehead against them and does his best not to cry, but barry remembers how her hands had felt cradling his face over a year ago, and how the speed force had exuded such warmth in her touch and her voice. ]

[ flashpoint was meant to be and had been his paradise until it hadn't been, and barry doesn't know who he hates more — time or himself. ]

[ for months, iris watched barry destroy himself with guilt and possibilities, taking on every new development as something that must have been caused by him, and therefore was his scar to bear. before that, she saw him break with the full strength of his grief, grief he carried around without any hope of ever healing from it; it simply left him empty. it's painful to see him crumple as the weight of this new truth collides with all his frayed hopes, dashing them to pieces.

but she knows that it is important, too. not even the flash can run from it.

iris wraps herself around him, lowering her head until her lips rest at his nape soothingly, her hands still locked with his. more than once she's had to remind barry of his own strength, strength he sometimes forgets that he has, but he doesn't need her to remind him of that right now. that comes later. ]

I'm here, Barry.

[ and as far as iris is concerned, that will never not be true. ]

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