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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[Hello, he's bruised. Ignore that.]

I can tell you that you were gone too long.

Awful timing.

[ for anyone who actually catches barry these days, it shouldn't be a surprise that he's dripping wet. it doesn't matter that it's winter in wonderland, that everything's a little cooler in colour and perhaps a little in temperature, too. (barry can't feel it, always running to fast before it can truly catch him). ]

[ there's the loud sound of static crackling up ahead, the whoosh of the flash navigating a corner. there's a trail of water along the ground, too, left in puddles as though the person who's wearing most of it is either as large as goliath in his strides or perhaps too fast to leave so much as a footprint. ]

[ there's puddles all over the floor, not quite big enough to cause issue with navigating them, but they all lead up ahead to where gold flashes brightly. maybe iris should go follow it. ]

[ her face falls when she sees him, for reasons that go beyond all the shiners that adorn his face.

this is new to iris: knowing things from a future that many have not lived. (leonard snart dies a hero. he dies.)

he is also providing her with a distraction, and at least her reaction can be attributed in part to the sight of him. ]

What the hell happened to your face?

[ there is a terrible price that comes with knowing: iris cannot unlearn what she has lived, and she would never choose to forget.

she understands now, and deeply, what barry allen has been keeping to himself all these months, in between searching for the mad hatter and supporting those that he loves best. she also understands she is ahead of him in their story, and time cannot favor those who don't know. her heels are unforgiving, and though iris follows the puddle tracks that will lead her to the stubborn speedster in question, she shouts his name in hopes of drawing his attention. ]

Barry! [ he once said her voice would always bring him home.

they are miles and worlds away from where they are supposed to be, but she can hope that it reaches him all the same. ]

[ he stops to try and shake the water from his ears, shaking his head to have some of his hair stick up on all ends. barry's never been a big fan of swimming, finding people's voices become obscured beneath the water, and he can never answer back unless he wants to feel his throat burn. this is partly why he hates what he does, running so hard toward the beach in hopes of breaking that invisible magical barrier and always ending up splashing into the very centre of the pool on the second floor. ]

[ he hates water. he's never been able to navigate something that's always been more powerful than him. ]

[ when he's running, nothing's inaudible. he stops — and not because he hears iris, even though he does, (more often than not these days, telling him fear's a healthy thing to have, that she'll wait for him, all the things she's said and hasn't said yet to him) but because his ears are ringing and his clothes are incredibly uncomfortable — and drips water everywhere. the converse shoes she'd given him squelch as he shifts on the spot and feels heavier than he likes on his feet. ]

[ rather than continue forward, he turns around. ] Hey — [ his expression's set in that awkward smile, like he's been caught by wells for sticking his hand very clearly in the cookie jar. but then it changes — and barry doesn't really know how it does, but he suddenly feels a hell of a lot lighter in his drenched clothes. ] Wow.

[Georgia is feeling better than she's felt in a week, but that's mostly because that's an extremely low bar. A full night of real sleep on the big painkillers have successfully dulled the migraine that had been chasing her for most of the event. Another night and she might feel fully human.

But then she got her Christmas present from Wonderland and read through all of it and, well, now she's feeling deeply unsettled in a very different way.

She's talking quietly into a tape recorder and walking through the halls, but she stops when she sees Iris. Her expression doesn't change beneath her sunglasses--it rarely does--but she does nod.]

Iris. Good. We've been short staffed since you left.

[Well, to the extent that they even have a staff or any need for a particular number. It's about the closest George will get to saying she missed someone, though. Relating to people without work as a buffer is hard.]

A fist, mostly. You should see the rest of me.

[He doesn't seem too bothered, but it's not as if he's in a habit to show a lot of emotion.]

I take it you're from further ahead in time now? You still look good, in case you worried.

Hey.

[ her smile warms, intimate and slow, and subsequently fades.

they say hindsight is twenty-twenty, and iris is being smacked in the face with an all too delayed perfect vision. how could she not have seen?

she no longer possesses this memory, but it happened somewhere, in some timeline, in a porch that mattered: she told him to do whatever he needed to do, and go wherever he needed to go. would she have said those words so readily if she'd known that it would ultimately take so much more from him? she stands before him, a puddle or two in between them, her coat slung over one arm. he looks different, and he looks the same, and she's not quite sure how both these things are true. ]

The pool again?

[ iris is observant.

a consequence of being a journalist, and also a product of being iris west. the mansion feels too quiet, far more quiet than she remembers. quiet enough that she can follow georgia's familiar voice, and iris is knowledgeable enough on wonderland matters to be grateful that she recognizes the voice at all.

she almost smirks at the unceremonious greeting. ] Georgia.

[ (her demeanor has never bothered iris. what matters most is that georgia is straightforward in a place that spins too many riddles.) ]

I'm sorry I left you hanging. Wonderland has terrible timing. [ or maybe perfect timing? ]

[ she hesitates. ]

You could say that.

[ one never leaves wonderland without gaining some traction, however big or small. ]

You know well and good that's not what I'm worried about. [ deflection will not work on iris west. ]

[ he thinks to tell her he'd tried iceskating, given wonderland's truly embraced winter, made everything white, took things from him he wanted taken and wanted to keep. glancing down at himself, it's now he notices he's dripping wet, standing in a puddle that otherwise wouldn't exist if he was on the move. ]

You're back, right? [ his brows knit together as a desperate hope takes root and begins to grow inside of him. the christmas event had been hard; barry remembers how it'd been, falling asleep and remembering nothing at all about his life that had made and broken him plenty times over. ]

[ he hates that he'd been happy. content iris had come and gone, not quite knowing what she'd gone back to as he couldn't remember beyond the scope of wonderland itself. he'd had no hope for anything impossible, simply existing with what had happened and was happening in wonderland. ]

[ he shakes his head, lifting his gaze to hers. ] I don't remember this, so this can't be Wonderland giving me back my memories for Christmas again.

No? Then I've no idea how to talk to you, I only know very shallow people.

[He leans back against the wall, sitting on his bed currently. The room's not very bright, only lit by a couple of candles. It makes the bruises stand out less, so there's that.]

Happy holidays.

[ do they become something else altogether when they're here? back home they're earth-1 barry and earth-1 iris. or at least, they had been. she met earth-2 barry, a csi with dorky bowties and a smile that blinds when he talks about his wife. but here they are, caught in some liminal space. a space where they live things that none of these other versions of them do. on top of all that, there is a timeline that has been overwritten more than once, taking what pieces it chooses.

what does that make them? (still barry and iris.)

her expression softens as he doubts her presence, and iris cares very little if she gets wet: she steps forward, a hand cupping the side of his face. real. ]

I'm back. [ she glances down at herself. ] It was Christmas back home, too. [ and from the looks of it, hers was far better. ]

Debatable.

[ man, she'd forgotten how completely impossible he is. she'd forgotten a lot of things. ]

It feels wrong to say 'right back at you.' [ from where she is standing, their holidays have been anything but harry. ]

Are you okay? What's going on? [ more importantly: what did she miss? ]

[ instinctively, barry leans into her hand. his expression doesn't soften into anything less worried and stressed, but the lines of him are no longer sharp. barry can calm down, let himself drop his whole facade of being okay, completely in control, and not feeling like everything's spiralling out from his hands when they'd never been in his palms in the first place. ]

[ christmas in wonderland had reminded him of what he'd never wanted — to forget. he'd never wanted to be reminded of the pain of losing mom, but it'd been gifted to him behind a door that'd only set to steer him back on the path he's meant to take. everything always comes back to nora allen, that night in that particular living room, but even though barry wants to place all his faith that his happiness will be restored and he'll feel complete once again with mom saved and the reverse-flash never winning that particular battle, he finds himself feeling that hollowness leave him without fuss with iris before him. ]

[ that's how it's always been. she doesn't leave him forgetting everything, but she's always welcomed him to forget holding himself at vibrating-hand point. ]

[ then his expression shifts just as quickly, brows pulling together as though he's thinking of something particularly sour. ] I didn't get you anything for Christmas.

I got you a wallet. I didn't realize how lame that is until I said it out loud.

[ her breath hitches before she's even finished speaking, rawness scraping her throat. the longer she stands here, the more she realizes just how long she was gone. how worrying it must have been to step into her room, expecting her to be there and finding that she wasn't. whether they're in wonderland or central city, they are so often powerless in the face of time. she's felt that way, once or twice, even if she's hardly vocalized it: powerless.

she has no abilities. she doesn't understand the science or the magic of it all. sometimes, she is at a loss when it comes to helping. helping barry, helping the team, helping her beloved city. but now that she looks at his face, her fingertips lingering against his jaw before they finally slip away, she feels strong. ]

I don't have it with me. [ the wallet. she brought everything else with her, but not that. ]

[ his smile's small, but sincere, ] I really need a new wallet.

[ his is falling apart, having been with him for years. his cards are falling through the fabric, almost like his own hold on who he is. barry knows he'd love it, just as he had the shoes he's wearing with her go win scrawled on it just as neatly and clearly as it'd been when he'd first received them. it's from iris, and it's practical. he needs a new wallet. sticking money in his suit hasn't been working out for him, truthfully. he wonders if he's finally whispered to her that cisco's suit's great but it ultimately has no pockets for his phone or his money for when he does some flash-window shopping. ]

[ shifting as though he's about to step closer toward her, his shoes squelch just a little. she hadn't taken into account he'd be stupid enough to try and dive head first into the barrier surrounding wonderland and wind up in the second floor's pool. ]

[ glancing down, he feels water fall from the movement of his hand as he pulls it away from her, never quite letting his fingers rest on her hip of their own accord. ]

I should probably … dry off first. I don't want to ruin your dress. [ he smiles, feeling slightly sheepish, and also feeling incredibly heavy. ] Christmas date?

[ 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)

I'm peachy.

[Mostly he's sarcastic to a fault, but that's nothing new.]

Just had a run-in with someone who wanted to improve my colouring. Other than that, I don't know. The Flash was sad, I fed him special brownies.

[ 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. ]

[ s i g h ]

Do I want to know what made them special?

[There's a

L O O K.]

Their personality.

1. No, nothing. And if anyone else did, they didn't say anything.

[ But then again, they weren't exactly twiddling their thumbs back home. Dante's death, Iris and Joe's fight. Caitlin's own developing powers. Then finding out that Bsrry had gone back to save his mom and altered all of their lives in the process. ]

2. I was gone for about a week. Everything came back a few seconds after I realized I was back.

[ 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?

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

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