#flash imagine

There had been the near-kiss during movie night when his face had been right there in the glow of the screen, and you chickened out because Gar and Vic had barged in with popcorn. There had been the one almost-kiss after a training session when he leaned in so close you thought it was going to happen- but he sneezed, and the moment shattered into laughter.

And maybe that was the problem. Being with Wally was easy, Kissing him? That felt like it would change something. Something big.

"Okay, breathe," you muttered to yourself, blowing into your hands to fight off the chill. "It's just a kiss. People do this all the time."

"Talking to yourself again?"

You jumped so hard you nearly tripped over your own feet. And there he was- red hair tousled by the wind, green eyes lit up with mischief, a grin tugging at his lips. He wore that battered old hoodie you liked, the one with a faded Keystone City baseball logo on the front. And of course, he had that speedster smugness, like he'd been standing there for ages and you were the one late to the party.

"Wally?" you scolded, pressing a hand to your chest. "Don't do that!"

"What, show up?" he teased, strolling closer with that casual confidence that somehow didn't look rehearsed on him. "Or catch you having a full conversation with... yourself?"

"I wasn't-" you stopped, narrowing your eyes. "Okay, maybe I was. But that doesn't mean you get to make fun of me."

"Who said I'm making fun? I think it's adorable," he said smoothly, leaning on the railing beside you. His arm brushed yours, warm even through your jacket.

You tried to play it cool. You really did. "You always sneak up on people like that?"

"Only on the people I like." His tone softened just enough to make your stomach flip.

There it was. The thing he did- the disarming honesty beneath all the bravado. You glanced at him, but he wasn't smirking this time. He was just looking at you, like he couldn't quite believe you were there.

Your heart thumped. Loud. Too loud.

"So," he started after a beat, his voice lighter again. "Why are you hiding out here? Don't tell me you're avoiding another one of Vic's karaoke nights."

You laughed, grateful for the deflection. "No. Just needed some air."

"Hmm." He studied you, head tilted. Then, before you could blink, he darted away- literally- and returned in less than a second holding two mugs of hot chocolate, steam curling from the tops.

You blinked. "Did you just-"

"Zoom down to the kitchen?" He smirked, handing you a mug. "Yeah. Perks of dating the fastest man alive."

"You're impossible," you said, but you smiled as you wrapped your hands around the cup.

"And yet you keep me around." He bumped your shoulder playfully.

The night settled around you, quieter this time. Just the two of you, the city lights in the distance, the stars overhead. Wally sipped his hot chocolate like it was the most important task in the world, and you felt the weight of unsaid words pressing against your tongue.

You wanted to kiss him. God, you wanted to kiss him.

But how? Do you just... lean in? Do you wait for him? What if you missed and ended up bumping noses? What if-

"You're staring," he said suddenly, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Your face heated. "I am not."

"You are." He turned to look at you fully, green eyes sharp and soft all at once. "Which, you know, I'm not complaining about. I like it when you stare."

"Wally..." you warned, though your voice was more breathless than stern.

He leaned closer, close enough that you could count the freckles across his cheeks, close enough that your heart felt like it might sprint right out of your chest to try and keep up with him.

"You know," he murmured, "I've been trying to find the right moment."

Your breath caught. "The right moment?"

He smiled, softer this time. "Yeah. To do this."

And then- finally- he kissed you.

It wasn't flashy. It wasn't rushed. For all his speed, Wally kissed you slow. His lips brushed yours like he had all the time in the world, like he wanted to savor every second. Your hand found its way to his hoodie, clutching the fabric as you melted into him. His free hand- because of course he hadn't let go of his hot chocolate- rested gently against your waist, grounding you.

When you finally pulled back, the world felt a little different. Brighter, Louder. Like every atom in your body had been rewired.

Wally grinned, his forehead resting against yours. "Worth the wait."

You laughed, a little breathless. "Yeah. Definitely worth the wait."

He kissed you again, quick and sweet this time, before pulling back with that trademark smirk. "So... when do I get to brag to the others that I finally kissed my girlfriend?"

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. "Let's keep it to ourselves. Just for tonight."

"Deal," he said, and you knew he'd keep it- because for once, Wally West wasn't in any rush.

In every meeting, in every training session, every moment the League common room filled up again, the tension between you was palpable. And not the classic tension of a team under pressure, but one that bordered on uncomfortable for everyone except the two of you.

Barry would throw you quick glances filled with a special sparkle, and you would respond with a smile that could have been a joke, but sometimes felt too real. When one of you would throw out a double entendre, the other would answer without hesitation, as if the game had no end, and the others expected it to end soon. His flirting was terrible.

Flash was going over some stats from the last mission and you were standing next to him, looking at him with a crooked smile, until you spoke.

"You know," you finally commented, in such a light tone that it was impossible to tell if he was joking or not, "if I were a villain, I would run away just to see you running after me."

Barry let out a short laugh, turning to face you. His eyes were shining. “Who says I’d catch you?” he replied, inching closer. “Maybe I’d let you get away so I’d have an excuse to chase you again, but I could catch you fast if you wanted. I’ve been working on my legs a lot.”

You turned your gaze down again to observe her wide thighs covered in her flashing red suit so you could check her words, even if it wasn't necessary. "It's true, you have such big thighs Flash."

An awkward silence fell over the room. Victor, who was at the console, raised his eyebrows without looking away from his screen. "…Well, that was very specific."

Diana, from across the room, looked up from her reports and frowned. “Are you really doing this here?”

You and Barry exchanged another knowing look, ignoring the comments, and continued talking to each other.

Barry leaned towards you slightly, lowering his voice as if he wanted it to be for your ears only. “If you want, I can prove it to you later… at the training ground, of course.”

"Sure, I'd love to see you working out," you replied, standing up from your seat. "I need to work out too, but I need some cardio first."

Diana exhaled, dropping her pen onto the table. “Are we really going to keep pretending this is ‘just a game’?”

Victor snorted and shook his head, continuing to type. "You're like those coworkers the whole office knows are dating, but you insist on denying it."

Barry turned to him with an innocent smile. “We’re not dating.”

"That's right" you supported him, tapping him on the arm. "Have you never seen two friends talking?"

Hal looked at them both seriously, as if he was thinking hard about something to say. “Can you guys, I don’t know, fuck each other and be normal?”

You and Barry froze for a second after Hal's words. It was as if the whole room had stopped.

Victor stopped typing and looked at him as if he'd just uttered the most inappropriate phrase of the year. "…Man, wow."

Diana closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Hal… really, you do exceed my expectations sometimes… but not in a good way.”

Barry cleared his throat, visibly blushing. "That's... uh... not..." he stammered, looking for a way out of the hole Hal had just dug.

You, on the other hand, smiled amusedly. "Hal Jordan, trying to solve interpersonal problems? I think you should apply your advice to your love life, Hal, not our friendship."

Hal raised his hands, as if he hadn't said anything wrong. "Hey, I'm just saying what everyone's thinking. I just want to help."

Arthur, who had been biting his tongue to keep from laughing, finally burst out laughing. "I can't believe I agree with him."

Barry looked back at you, and though he tried to maintain his composure, there was a glimmer in his eyes that said he wasn't as upset by the comment as he pretended. "Anyway," he said, standing next to you, "I think I'll go train now."

"Perfect," you replied with a half smile, "I also need to train a little, it would be good for me to be more agile on patrol, I need to relax a little."

You’re halfway through unloading groceries when your phone buzzes on the counter with that telltale ding-ding-ding triple-text chime - the one Wally uses when he’s being deliberately dramatic.

You wipe your hands on your shirt, still slightly damp from the condensation off a milk jug, and glance over.

Wally

i may not make it through the night. tell my story. bring soup. and maybe a priest.

You snort, abandoning the celery mid-fridge shelf in favour of snatching up your phone. One tap and the little cartoon heart next to his name wobbles from the movement.

You

How bad is it?

The reply is immediate - suspiciously immediate. As if he was lying in wait for your text like a spider in a web.

Wally

flu. plague. doom. fever’s probably 112. i’ve seen the light. …it’s shaped like you.

You’re already grabbing your coat.

Because for Wally to admit defeat - to skip training, to bail on plans, to not show up at your apartment with an armful of your favourite snacks and a loud “babe I’m hereee” - it has to be bad.

Illness hits him like a truck. You’ve seen it before: the speed vanishes, and suddenly he’s all chills and aches and curled up in a hoodie, dozing in and out while clutching a tissue box like a lifeline. Wally, normally a constant blur of movement and affection and flirty one-liners, melts into a blanket-clutching gremlin the moment he gets sick. His dramatic streak triples. His need for cuddles becomes unbearable.

He gets miserable.

And you?

Well. You’re not much better.

You’ve always had a soft spot for taking care of people - but with Wally, it’s instinctual. Automatic. The minute he’s down for the count, some hidden caregiver switch flips and you go full Florence Nightingale, soup and forehead kisses included. Your friends make fun of you for it. Wally adores you for it.

You’ve dated stoics and martyrs before - men who pushed through illness like it made them noble. But Wally? Wally demands tenderness like oxygen, and for some reason, you’ve never minded giving it.

By the time you’re pulling into his apartment complex, your car is packed with a ridiculous amount of supplies: a bag of herbal teas, your go-to Tupperware of chicken noodle soup (made from scratch last winter when he nearly cried from gratitude), three different colours of Gatorade (just in case), a bulk pack of cough drops, a microwaveable heat pack shaped like a dinosaur, and the fluffiest blanket you own. Also - because you’re soft and maybe a little whipped - the stuffed bear from your bed he once jokingly said had “a chill vibe.” You never forgot.

You don’t even knock. The door’s already unlocked - Wally never locks it when he’s sick and waiting on you. You elbow it open, juggling the grocery bags and box of tissues like a chaotic but determined nurse.

“Emergency care incoming!” you call. “Don’t be dead, I brought lemon-ginger!”

From the living room: a croaky, pitiful, “Baaaaabe?”

You follow the sound and find him on the couch, half-upright and half-mummified, swaddled in at least three blankets - including one fleece one you know came from the backseat of your car. His hoodie is pulled tight over his head, his nose is pink, and there are tissues scattered around like he sneezed into a snowstorm. His feet are sticking out at awkward angles, one sock on, one sock off. A half-eaten banana rests tragically on the coffee table next to a bowl of dry cereal that looks abandoned mid-bite. The TV is playing an old episode of Scooby-Doo on mute.

Wally’s holding a hot water bottle to his chest like a relic from a war you weren’t part of.

Your heart cracks a little. You drop your bags and crouch beside him, brushing your fingers over the damp fringe of hair stuck to his forehead.

“God, Wally,” you murmur, brow furrowing. “You look like roadkill.”

“Feel worse,” he croaks, eyes fluttering shut like he’s about to be buried at sea. “Everything hurts. Even my eyelashes.”

You laugh softly, guilt already blooming. “You poor thing.”

You help him sit up a little, propping pillows behind his back, then gently place a mug of tea into his hands. He lets out a pleased little sigh and takes a slow sip, leaning into your touch as you adjust the blanket around his shoulders and fuss over the sleeves of his hoodie so he can hold the cup properly.

“How long have you been like this?” you ask, unzipping the bag of cough drops and setting one on his knee.

“Since-” He pauses. “What day is it?”

You pause too, mid–unwrapping of cough drops, and narrow your eyes.

He’s grinning.

It’s fleeting. A twitch at the corner of his mouth, there and gone in a blink. But you know that look. It's the same look he gets when he sneaks into the shower right as you’re about to step out, all faux-innocence and wandering hands, mumbling about water conservation.

You blink.

He coughs. Loud. Overacted. Like someone who’s just been shot in the third act of a play.

You squint. “Uh-huh.”

But your hands still move, still pulling the blanket tighter around him, still brushing your knuckles over the flushed line of his cheek. You’re weak for him. You always have been.

And if there’s the slightest chance he’s telling the truth, you’re going to give him every drop of comfort you can. Because he’s Wally. Because he’s yours. Because even if he is faking it, the thought of him spending the whole day alone, hoping you’d come, is enough to make you soften.

“Alright, you ridiculous man,” you murmur, stroking his hair. “Let’s get you better.”

He hums at that - something quiet and deeply pleased - and scoots a little to the side, tugging you closer with a blanket-covered hand until you’re tucked against his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair. You feel the smile he’s trying very hard not to show.

And you let him have it. Just bask in the sweetness of it. Because loving Wally West - especially when he’s being a nightmare - is still one of your favourite things.

You settle deeper into the couch cushions with a satisfied sigh, one leg tucked underneath you, the other stretched out just far enough to brush Wally’s thigh. He’s flopped across the rest of the couch like a fallen warrior - blanket around his shoulders, hot water bottle abandoned beside him, your stuffed bear cradled to his chest like it’s been through the war with him.

He looks ridiculous. And soft. And impossibly smug.

“More forehead kisses,” he mumbles without opening his eyes, voice pitiful. “I think they were healing me.”

You arch a brow, fingers threading through his hair like he’s earned it. “You’re the neediest fake patient I’ve ever seen.”

He opens one eye, grinning. “Not fake. Just ... clingy.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying.”

“I could be dying.”

You lean down anyway, brushing your lips to his hairline, and feel him melt like butter in the microwave. He’s warm - not fever-warm, just cuddly-warm - and completely at ease, sprawled like a cat in a sunbeam. It would almost be convincing … if he hadn’t clearly perked up in the last hour.

No sniffles. No winces. No dramatic declarations about his impending doom.

He even caught your mug mid-fall from the coffee table earlier with speed. And the way his foot is absently bouncing against the couch edge? Not exactly deathbed behaviour.

You narrow your eyes, lips curling into a slow smile. Time to test a theory.

“So,” you say lightly, drawing circles on the inside of his wrist with your thumb, “if you’re so sick, I guess you wouldn’t be up for … anything else tonight.”

He freezes.

You trace the edge of his palm with a feather-light touch, casually letting your fingers drift up his arm. “Not even a little cuddly makeout session?” you murmur, voice warm and just shy of suggestive. “Wouldn’t want to … pass anything along.”

Wally’s eyes flutter open. Wide. Bright. Alarmingly alive.

“I mean,” you go on, utterly sweet, “if you’re too weak, I’ll understand. Wouldn’t want to put any unnecessary strain on your delicate system.”

His body reacts before his mouth does. Spine straightens. Shoulders roll. There’s a familiar twitch of energy, like he’s been hit with a jolt of battery acid-flavoured anticipation.

“Uh,” he coughs - badly - “I might … have a few minutes of energy left. In the name of love.”

You tilt your head. “Hmm. Amazing how fast you bounce back when I mention making out.”

“I’m resilient,” he says quickly, sitting up a little straighter. “It’s probably adrenaline. A miracle. Hormonal surge. Honestly, babe, it’s kind of beautiful-”

You pin him with a look. “Wallace West.”

He freezes. “... Yes?”

“You’re not sick.”

He blinks. “I was sick.”

“You faked being on your deathbed for cuddles.”

“I prefer to think of it as strategic,” he says, unrepentant, leaning in with that signature, shit-eating grin. “Also, the cuddles were really good.”

You stare at him, jaw slack. Then blink. Then groan, dragging both hands down your face with a muffled, “You absolute asshole.”

Wally winces - just a little. “But like … your asshole?”

“Wally.”

“Yeah?”

“You made me believe you were dying.”

“Well, I was suffering-”

“You made me carry three bags of soup,” you cut in, voice flat. “One of which spilt in my car. I ran three red lights getting here. I gave you my favourite blanket - and the bear off my bed, and you- ”

“I loved every second,” he says, beaming.

You shove him - not gently this time - but he catches your wrist like it’s nothing and has the audacity to kiss your knuckles, all tender and innocent, like that’ll fix anything.

“You’re warm,” he murmurs, voice dropping into something sinfully soft, tugging you closer until your thighs brush. “And soft. And dangerously good at taking care of me. You should take responsibility for that.”

Your glare is immediate. “You’re unbelievable.”

He tilts his head, eyes glittering. “Unbelievably cute?”

You stare at him. Stone-faced. Betrayed. And then you lean in - sweet, slow, syrup-thick - and whisper, “You are so in trouble.”

Wally’s grin falters for just a beat. “Trouble like … fun trouble?”

“No,” you say, looping your arms around his neck, voice dark with the promise of retribution. “Like I’m going to make you earn the rest of those cuddles. Like you don’t get to lie to me, fake an illness, and still come out the smug little spoon.”

He swallows. “So … disciplinary action?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you purr, leaning in until your lips brush his ear. “You're going to be very, very sorry.”

And the way his breath hitches tells you exactly how not sorry he actually is.

He shifts under you, already keyed-up, hands finding your hips like muscle memory. “God, I love you.”

You straddle him on the couch, knees bracketing his hips, your palms planted firm against his chest. His hoodie is soft beneath your fingers - worn, faded, smells like vanilla, static, and the faint ozone aftertaste of speed. The fabric warms fast under your touch, like he’s already burning for you from the inside out.

Wally looks up at you with wide, reverent eyes - like you just caught the sun between your hands and told him it was his. Like he still can’t believe he gets to have this. Have you.

“I didn’t lie,” he says, aiming for innocent, but the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth is nothing short of criminal.

“You faked sick, West.”

He hums, breath hitching, hands gliding up the backs of your thighs, fingertips tracing goosebumps like they’re treasure. “Only to feel your nurturing touch,” he says with mock sincerity. “Is that so wrong?”

You roll your hips slowly, deliberately - just enough to make him gasp. His whole body stiffens for a moment, chest rising sharply under your palms.

“Wrong enough to deserve consequences,” you murmur, dipping to kiss the corner of his mouth, just barely grazing. “You don’t get to play damsel and rake in sympathy points.”

“But I like sympathy points.”

“You’ll like this better,” you promise, and then you kiss him.

Really kiss him.

His mouth meets yours like it’s been waiting all day - hungry and soft and warm, lips parting in a sigh against yours. He groans into it, low and needy, hands flying to your waist as though it’s reflex, like gravity dragged him there. But you catch his wrists mid-reach, press them into the couch cushions, and pin him down.

“Uh-uh,” you say, lips brushing his cheek as you shift higher on his lap. “Sick boys don’t get to lead.”

Wally lets out a broken sound - half laugh, half moan - his face flushed with frustration and desire and need. “You’re killing me.”

“I thought you were dying already?” you tease, tracing the shape of his mouth with your thumb before leaning back in.

He laughs, breathless and hoarse. “You’re mean.”

“You lied to me.”

“I lied because I missed you,” he breathes, honest now, eyes glassy with more than lust. “Because I wanted you close. I just - I don’t know, babe. I wanted a day when I didn’t have to run. I just wanted to be held.”

That softens you, as it always does. Because you know him. You know how he burns through the world - bright and fast and never still - and how rare it is for him to stop. Even now, he’s buzzing under your hands, the charge of movement held barely in check.

“I’d hold you,” you whisper, brushing his hair back gently. “You don’t need to break my heart with fake last words to get cuddles.”

He swallows, throat bobbing. “I know.”

You shift again, hips slotting against his, rolling slowly. “So shut up and take your punishment.”

His grin is lazy, lopsided, and all heat.

You kiss down his jaw, then his throat, slow, warm, savouring each patch of pale skin like a secret. His hoodie bunches beneath your hands as you work it up over his ribs, exposing the firm lines of his torso. His skin is golden and flushed, already warm to the touch. The faint buzz of his metabolism under your palms makes him feel alive in a way no one else ever could.

Your hands explore him with reverence - slow strokes, soft pressure, a worship you don’t rush. Because you know this body. You love it. And right now? It’s all yours.

Wally's head tips back against the couch cushions, mouth parted, eyes fluttering shut. “Can I touch you yet?” he asks, voice hoarse.

“Not yet,” you say, dragging your nails lightly down his chest. He shudders. “You’ve got some suffering to do first.”

“Suffering,” he echoes, dazed. “Got it. Suffering’s good.”

You kiss him again, this time deeper - your tongue brushing his, drawing a long, trembling noise from the back of his throat. His hips buck up against yours, instinctive and needy, but you press him back down with your weight. Your hands tangle in his hair. His lips chase yours with an urgency that borders on desperate - every movement a plea, a promise, a please.

His breath stutters. “God, I missed this,” he says, reverent and raw. “Missed you.”

You let him feel that. Let him burn under your palms. Your fingers curl around the waistband of his sweats, his hoodie pushed high on his chest, his pulse racing beneath your lips - and then-

THWACK.

CRACK.

“OW - OH GOD - OW-!”

The sound is so sharp, so sudden, it echoes off the living room walls like something catastrophic. Your breath catches, the warmth still blooming through your chest from the kiss you were in the middle of vanishing in an instant.

You jerk back like you've been electrocuted. “What?! What happened?!”

He’s already curling inward, face contorted in real, undeniable pain - his hands clutching low on his back, hoodie wrinkled and riding up as he twists on the couch like a dying bug.

“I think - I think I pulled something - ohmygod - I can’t - babe - I think I threw out my back-!”

For a second, your brain won’t even compute it. You just stare at him, blinking, heat still prickling down your spine, breath caught somewhere between lust and horror.

“You - what?! How?! You were lying down!”

“I - I tried to lift my hips to - you know - engage!” he whimpers. His voice breaks over the word like it physically hurts to say. “That was a mistake. A terrible mistake.”

And just like that, the haze of arousal fully burns off, replaced by ice-cold concern as you scramble off him, almost tripping over a cushion. “Are you serious?! Wally, are you serious right now?”

“My spine!” he howls dramatically, face mashed into the cushions. “My beautiful, fast, sexy spine-”

You let out a strangled noise and grab a throw pillow, smacking him square in the shoulder - gently, but with feeling.

He yelps like a kicked puppy and flinches, curling around his agony. “Babe! I’m wounded!”

“Oh my god,” you mutter, pacing for a second as your heart finally catches up. “I knew this would happen. I knew you were overcommitting to the bit. I felt it in my bones!”

“I was committed to love!” he whines.

“You were committed to horniness!”

“Same difference ...” he groans, voice muffled against a throw blanket.

You drop onto your knees beside the couch, inspecting him like he might shatter. His hoodie’s rucked up over his back, his boxers askew from how he twisted, and his hair is a complete mess - flat in places from how he’s been laying, sticking up in wild tufts in others. His skin’s flushed, brows drawn tight in discomfort, and he's panting like he just ran five miles instead of trying to thrust while horizontal.

The absurdity of it all makes your throat burn - equal parts panic, frustration, and such deep, bone-deep affection you can’t even stand it.

“Jesus, Wally,” you mutter, grabbing your phone from the coffee table. “I’m calling your chiropractor.”

“Nooo, don’t leave me,” he moans, flailing one arm weakly in your direction. “Hold me - I'm dying again-!”

“You’ll live,” you mutter, brushing his hair back with exasperated fondness. “You don’t get cuddles until I’ve iced your back and you swear on your stupid sneakers you won’t fake another cold for at least a month.”

He peeks up at you with the saddest, most pitiful watery eyes imaginable, lower lip trembling with cartoonish devastation. “Two weeks?”

“A month, West.”

He groans, flopping his head back dramatically.

But his hand - hot and a little clammy - finds yours anyway. Fingers twitching until you slide yours into the spaces between. Even now, even injured, there’s a buzz in his skin, like lightning sulking beneath the surface.

And you - wrecked spine, derailed couch makeout, and all - squeeze it back.

Because he’s Wally. Because he's ridiculous. And annoying. And impossible.

But also yours.

And god help you - you wouldn't trade this for anything.

Barry noticed that there were some buildings in places that were once houses and assumed that he was in the future. He knew he couldn't risk changing the future, but he was curious.

He was surprised to see the name “Allen” engraved on the mailbox of a large house. The house was white and had three floors. He approached, seeing that on the porch of the house there was a swing and a dog house with the name “Grant” engraved on it.

Barry questioned whether he actually read the right name on the mailbox. He didn't have much time to think before a big, fat dog ran towards him, knocking Flash to the ground. The dog caught him off guard.

The animal began to lick his face, making him laugh. Barry carefully pushed the dog away, standing up.

“Sit down!” He said to the dog and to Barry's surprise, the animal obeyed and sat down on the grass. The dog wagged its tail and seemed very happy.

Flash heard laughter coming from the door. He looked up and let out an exclamation of surprise when he saw that Y/N was standing in front of the door, arms crossed.

“I thought you wouldn't be back until tomorrow. Cisco called saying you had an accident in Star City.” Y/N said, walking towards Barry.

The man tried to find words to respond to his friend, but was petrified when he received a kiss from his childhood friend.

The woman ran her hand through Barry's brown hair and looked at him tenderly. Flash noticed that she had a beautiful ring on her fingers. She got married.

Y/N kissed Barry again, leaving him in a state of panic. The brunette never thought about kissing his friend, since he was in love with Iris.

“Let's go. Benjamin and Anastasia are alone long enough to set the house on fire.” Y/N said, pulling the speedster's hand to force him into the house.

“Benjamin and Anastasia?” He asked, frowning. Who were these people?

“Are you going to say you forgot your children's names?” Y/N asked in a playful tone. Barry opened his mouth in shock.

Flash barely had time to say anything. Two small and cute bodies collided with Allen. They were children.

Benjamin and Anastasia they are kids. Barry and Y/N's children.

Flash opened his mouth but couldn't say a word. He looked at the kids who had Y/N's hair color and Barry's green eyes.

The boy looked a lot like Barry and had a very sweet smile. The girl looked like a beautiful princess.

“Daddy!” The girl said, extending her hand for Barry to take it. The speedster wondered if he should pick the girl up, but after Anastasia pouted at him, Barry grabbed the girl and gave her a big hug.

Barry had children. He started a family.

It wasn't with Iris as he imagined, but Y/N seemed to love him so intensely that it was clear there was a lot of love.

“Daddy. Ben, my mom and I made chocolate cake.” Anastasia said. Her voice was soft and sweet. Barry almost cried when the girl laid her head on his shoulder.

“Mom let me make the frosting with the mixer.” Benjamin, who looked to be two years older than Anastasia said, smiling proudly.

“It must be delicious.” Barry said smiling at the boy. The boy hugged Allen's leg.

The two children dragged Barry into the kitchen and made the speedster eat many pieces of cake and a pitcher of juice that Benjamin prepared. It was sour, but Barry enjoyed every drop to make the boy happy.

The house was big and warm. Barry couldn't tell if it was hot because of the heater or if it was because of the family that lived there. The kitchen of the house had a large blackboard glued to the counter where it indicated what needed to be bought at the market and who would wash the dishes that day.

Barry loved everything. It seemed strange at first, but now it was an incredible future. For the first time in his life, Barry felt that everything would work out in the end.

He thought the children were normal, that they weren't speedsters. But the moment Y/N dropped a glass, Benjamin ran like lightning and didn't let the object fall to the floor.

“Are you a speedster?” Barry asked with a face full of surprise.

“Of course my love.” Y/N said, emphasizing “my love”. In the present, she always called Barry ‘Allen’ or some stupid nickname. Barry liked to be called ‘my love’. “Our babies are just like you. Even though Anastasia hates running”

“I prefer to walk.” The girl said. It was the cutest sight Barry had ever seen. The little girl had a teddy bear on her lap and used a toy spoon to give the teddy bear some imaginary food.

“You look strange, dad.” Benjamin said. The boy was focused on a portable video game and barely looked at the people at the table.

“Seriously, Barry. Are you well? “ Y/N asked her husband. She noticed that the speedster was dazed and looked strange. “Children, can you keep the cake in the fridge and then go play in your bedrooms?”

“Yes mom.” The kids said at the same time. Benjamin used his super speed to put the cake in the refrigerator and went to his bedroom. Anastasia preferred to walk like a normal human being.

Y/N took Barry to the living room. The fireplace was lit for winter and some toys were lined up in the hallway. The dog that Barry assumed was family was lying on the couch with its belly up.

“What happened, Barry?” She asked as soon as Barry sat down in the room. She noticed that her husband seemed to have never set foot in the house and was looking at everything like a curious visitor.

“Anything. It's okay, honey.” Allen tried to sound convincing.

“Barry, I wanted to tell you something.” Y/N sat on Barry's lap, leaving him perplexed. The speedster stood as still as a statue as the woman placed a long kiss on his lips. “Do you like having two children?”

“Obviously. Ben and Ana are amazing kids.” Barry said, trying to sound like the father they know.

“Then I think you'll love having three children even more!” Y/N said, with watery eyes. She took a box out of her pocket and Barry recognized it as a pregnancy test box. “I found out two days ago, but I was going to wait for you to get back from Star City.”

“Are you pregnant?” Barry asked.

“Yes. Caitlin thinks I have five weeks. It's still the size of a bean, but I already love it so much.” Y/N said, rubbing her belly.

Y/N was surprised to receive a hug from her husband. Barry was shaking and seemed surprised, something strange since he already has two children.

Allen had tears in his eyes and Y/N returned the hug, laying her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Barry thanked him. “Thank you for being my family and for giving me three incredible children. You are perfect.”

“You gave it to me, Barry. You played an important role in creating them.” She said laughing. Flash was thinking about how weird it would be to have sex with his best friend. Barry had known Y/N since elementary school and had never thought of her in a romantic way.

Now, Barry envied future Barry, who had perfect children and a beautiful woman who loved him. The Flash hoped this was his future.

“How did we start dating?” The man asked, trying not to sound rude and irritate the woman.

“You were almost killed by a villain and I realized I loved you. But Iris also realized that she loved you. It took a long time for you to decide that you loved me and ask me to be your girlfriend.“ She explained laughing. “You're always quick, but you read a lot into some things.”

“Funny.” He said, squeezing Y/N's waist. Barry's cell phone rang and the woman got up from his lap, letting Flash pick up the phone and answer it.

“Dude, where are you? You were running and suddenly disappeared.” He heard Cisco say. Flash's friend was nervous.

“I'm coming, Cisco.” Barry said, then hung up without letting Cisco answer. “Y/N, I have to go. Cisco needs my help.”

“Sure honey.” Y/N said, giving her husband another kiss. “Come back early for dinner. Ben's notes arrived today and he wants you to see them at dinner time.”

“OK.” Barry looked closely at the woman and the house before heading to the door. This was a perfect future. “See you later, Y/N.”

“Save the world, Flash.” Y/N said, while stroking her own belly. Barry took one last look at Y/N before running to go back to the past.

Tears streamed down Barry's face as he ran. Barry always wanted to have a family and in the future he did, with a pet dog and warm hugs.

As soon as Barry returned to the present, he went straight to Star Labs. He knew that back then you were helping Caitlin take care of the imprisoned metahumans .

“Hey man, where were you?” Cisco asked as soon as Barry stopped in the middle of Star labs.

“I fainted during the race.” Flash lied, knowing he couldn't tell anyone about the future. “Where is Y/N?”

“She's giving lunch to the imprisoned metahumans. She always does this.”

Barry didn't respond to his friend. He ran straight towards Y/N.

She had a tray in her hand and was walking towards a prisoner's cell.

“Hello, Y/N.” Flash greeted the girl. She just looked at him and smiled, walking again. “I was thinking. We've been friends for a long time and we've never gone out to dinner just the two of us.”

“Why should you go out with Iris, your great unrequited love.” Y/N replied, making Barry grimace.

“Do you want to go out with me on Friday for dinner?” Barry invited his friend. She smiled, stopping walking and looking at the brunette.

Wally who talks about you all the time and always tries to find a reason to talk about you in a conversation

🫓

If youre a superhero,he will worry a lot of you go on a misson without him

🫓

Hates being away from you for to long

🫓

Wally who will tell you the most terrible jokes just to see you smile

🫓

Voices were the first thing you recalled. They were different tones, some feminine, others masculine. Screams echoed from somewhere far away. Beeps sounded near your head.

You couldn’t open your eyes. Your eyelids had been replaced by stones. “Is she going to wake up soon?” one of the voices demanded. You recognized it as you heard it often. 

“She can wake up at anytime.” This voice was recognizable as well. It gave orders a lot. “We will just have to wait.” Footsteps echoed and a door closed. You wondered if they were talking about you. Were you asleep? It was hard to tell. 

There was scraping of a chair. Suddenly, someone grabbed your hand. They cradled it in theirs. Lips pressed to the back of your hand. “I miss you, sweetheart,” the voice you heard most often spoke. Sweetheart? You felt confused. No one had called you that before. “Please wake up soon.” Something wet dripped onto your hand. 

Disgusting. You couldn’t pull your hand away. It was like your blood had been replaced with sand, holding you down. You endured it. The voice rambled on and on about things. You stopped listening and let yourself drift back into bliss of darkness.

***

Slowly, rising from the darkness and into the fresh air, you finally dragged your eyes opened. The light was bright. You closed them again, reaching up to rub them. 

Your eyes adjusted to reveal a white hospital room with flowers everywhere. The ones next to your bedside were your favorite. Those were the same ones your brother would get for your birthday every year. A smile pulled at your lips. You glanced down at yourself, the paper hospital gown scratching your skin. There were heart monitors stuck to your chest and stomach. Odd.

An IV was in your arm. You pulled at it gently, shivering from the idea of it in your arm. Biting your lip, you tried to remember how you got here. The last thing you remembered was being at gymnastic practice. It was after hours and you were breaking the rules by attempting Olga Korbut’s uneven bars routine from the 1972 Olympics. Most of those moves were illegal now days, but you wanted to try just for fun.

The last thing you remembered was preparing for your dismount from the high bar when your brother, Wally West, and your coach walking in. They startled you and you fell hard. You frowned. Was that what happened? Did you end up in the hospital?

You pulled the covers around you. Where were those voices you heard before? The man’s voice. The one who held your hand. You wondered who he was? Rubbing your hands up and down your arms, you froze when you felt metal on one of your fingers. You glanced down to find a beautiful ring. 

It was a contoured design, two rings fitted into one. You remembered Aunt Iris had one like that. Her engagement ring and wedding ring were made into one. Why would you have a ring like that? You were only nineteen and you don’t remember anyone giving a ring like this to you.

The door to your room opened. You looked up eagerly, hoping to see your family. However, there was only a strange man. He stared at you, eyes wide with a cup of coffee in his hand. His hair was dark, shaggy and falling into his bright blue eyes. You had to admit he was attractive and fit, even if it looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. 

The coffee cup dropped from his hand and splashed on the floor. You jumped only to find the man suddenly hugging you and pressing his lips against yours. Your mind shut off. You didn’t move, unsure what to do. Should you scream? Were you being attacked?

“Oh thank god, you’re awake. I thought you would never wake up.” The man sobbed, breaking the kiss to bury his face into your shoulder. His voice triggered your memory. He was the one who held your hand. 

You didn’t know what to do. Your brain was on autopilot as you patted his back. Maybe he was mentally disturbed and thought you were someone else? You noticed the call button by the bedside and tried to reach for it. 

“Woah, hey.” The man pulled away, grinning despite the tears in his eyes. “You feel okay? Anything hurt? Should I get the doctor?”

You opened your mouth to speak only for it to be dry. Wetting your mouth, you cleared your throat. “I’m fine.” You looked him in the eye for a second before quickly looking at the flowers across the room. Your eye caught a bag sitting on the chair in the corner. 

“I think my heart finally restarted. It stopped when you took that fall.” The man laughed. You looked back at him to find him studying you like you were the most precious thing on earth. It sent a warning shiver down your spine. 

You quickly looked away, eyeing the coffee spill on the floor. “Is Wally here?” 

You bit your lip nervously when the man’s smile faltered slightly. “He...doesn’t know you’re here.” The man took your hand, rubbing warmth into it.

“What?!” You blinked, heart skipping a beat. Oh god, did this man kidnap you? Were you even in a hospital or did it just look like one? Where was Wally? Where was your family?

The man played with the ring on your finger. He frowned slightly with concern in his eyes. “Sweetheart, you know he doesn’t approve of us. He won’t answer my calls, even when you got hurt, but we don’t need to worry about him. We got each other and our family. That’s what matters, right?” He ran his other hand through your hair. 

Your blood ran ice cold. You had to escape. Clearly, this man kidnapped you and was mentally insane. Why did he act like you were in a relationship with him? Thoughts about all those old stalker movies filled your mind.

“Hey, you okay?” The man cupped your cheek. “Calm down. You’re fine. Everything’s okay.” 

You forced a smile on your face to try to reassure him. Get him out of the room. You could escape then. “I just have a headache.” You rubbed your temple. Your chest tightened when his hand moved to rest over yours.

“Let me grab the doctor.” He leaned down to kiss you again. You turned your head, disgusted. His lips caught your cheek instead of your lips. The man frowned, but got up. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He left the room and firmly shut the door behind him.

Once he was gone, you got to your feet. Sharp pain shot through them, but you just gasped and stayed standing. You removed the IV and the heart monitors carefully before going to the bag in the corner. There were clothes inside. You ripped off the paper gown and changed into the sweatpants and sweatshirt inside. The clothes were too big, but you tightened the pants to fit you. There were no shoes, so you made do with a pair of socks.

Panic set in when you heard noise outside the door. You rushed to the window in the room. Outside was a city you didn’t recognize it. Scared beyond belief, you opened the window. The rays of the late morning sun hit your skin. Your room was two stories up, but you noticed a gutter drain nearby. 

With somewhat ease, you climbed out and down the gutter drain. Once you were a few feet from the ground, you dropped. Almost landing on your feet, you toppled to your knees. Your center of gravity was off. Did you gain weight while you were kidnapped? You shook your head, getting to your feet.

“(Y/N)!” The man shouted. You spun to see him leaning out of the window with another dark haired man with him. 

“No.” Adrenaline fueled you and you sprinted off. You were fast, but you were no speedster. Traffic was heavy in the street, but you ran out without a care, jumping over the hood of a car that slammed on their brakes to avoid you. 

You glanced back to see the man already on the ground. Panting, you ran faster down the street, dodging people as you went. You had to break the line of sight. A child ran out in front of you. You jumped, using a light post as leverage to send yourself flying into an alleyway. 

“(Y/N)!” The man was gaining on you as you fell hard on your knees again. The wind knocked out of you. Rage filled you. Why was your center of balance off? You could have landed that in your sleep. However, you got to your feet and kept running. 

Turning several corners, you saw a coffee shop filled with people. You burst through the door, the bell ringing loudly. People stared at you like you were insane. Maybe you did look it, but you had a good reason. “Can I borrow a phone?” you panted, searching the room for a friendly soul.

“Here, honey,” a middle aged woman said, handing you a phone.

“Thank you.” You glanced behind you in a panic and ducked into the hallway that led to the bathrooms. The phone shook in your hand. Every part of your body ached, completely weakened by the run as adrenaline drained into all out terror. 

Air was being squeezed out of your lungs, coming out in ragged gasps. Black swarmed your vision, but you blinked it away. The bell on the door to the shop rang. You slipped into the ladies' room and slid to the floor by the sink. 

Knees pressed to your chest, you dialed the one number you knew by heart. “Please pick up, please pick up.” The man’s voice sounded outside, asking about you. 

“Hello?” You sighed in relief, knowing his voice instantly. 

“Wally?” Your voice cracked. Tears filled your eyes. “Please help me. Walls, please help me.”

“(Y/N)?” Wally seemed shocked. “What’s wrong?” His voice deepened into that tone he used when he was Kid Flash. 

You crawled into one of the stalls when you heard someone tell the man that you went to the restroom. Reaching up to lock the stall, you got up to stand on the toilet to hide. You had to lean against the wall to stay upright. “There’s a man chasing me. He kidnapped me, but I escaped.” You held your breath when the bathroom door opened. “He’s here. Please help me.” Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“(Y/N), sweetheart, I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to come with me,” the man said loudly. He opened one of the stalls. You pressed your hand against your mouth to prevent a scream. 

“I’ll be there in a flash. Where are you?” Wally’s voice sounded distant. He was already on the move. 

The next stall opened. You whimpered softly into the phone. The bathroom fell silent until the door to your stall shook. You choked out a sob, losing your balance. Your foot went into the toilet, but you caught yourself. However, the phone slipped out of your hand and clattered to the floor.

The man kneeled in front of the door. “(Y/N), sweetheart, please tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me.”

“Please leave me alone. I just want to go home,” you begged, ignoring your wet sock as you climbed higher on the toilet in case the man crawled under. 

“We can go home, but I need you to calm down.” The man peeked under the door. You screamed, fresh tears bursting out of you. Suddenly, a loud gust sounded in the room and the man disappeared from the door. “Wally? What are you doing here?” 

“What are you doing?! (Y/N) called me saying she’s been kidnapped and a man is chasing her,” your brother’s voice said. You relaxed slightly, suddenly concerned that Wally seemed to know the man. “And now I searched the city only to find you chasing her!”

The man gasped. “She said what?!” 

The door of your stall shook again. “(Y/N), come out. I think you’re confused,” Wally said. You slowly climbed down from the toilet and opened the door. Wally stood there in a Flash suit. Strange, wasn’t he Kid Flash? You ignored it and hopped into his arms.

Wally held you tight. “Please get me out of here, Walls. Keep him away from me.” You clung to Wally like he was your lifeline.

“What the hell is going on?!” The man stepped forward. You broke out of Wally’s arms to hide behind him, watching the man as he stared at you with his brow furrowed. “(Y/N), sweetheart, I’m Dick. Your husband.” He pointed to his chest. 

“I can’t be married!” You gripped Wally’s arms with a death grip.  

Wally’s head snapped between you and the man. “Wait a minute.” He pressed a hand to the man’s, now Dick’s, chest to stop him from coming closer. Wally spun to you and gripped your shoulders. His green eyes bore into yours. “(Y/N), what year is it?”

You frowned, blinking. Your lips trembled. Wally never talked to you like this before. “2020.”

Dick’s jaw dropped. His hand slapped against his forehead. Wally stared at you with fear in his eyes. “(Y/N), honey, it’s 2023. You’re not nineteen, you’re twenty two,” Wally said calmly. He swallowed hard and nodded to Dick. “This is Dick Grayson. You married him a year ago. Without my permission, I might add.” 

Your eyes snapped to Dick’s. “No...” Your knees collapsed. Wally caught you before you hit the floor. Dick’s hands clenched into fists, keeping his distance from you. Black swarmed your vision again. You blinked it away as Wally cradled you in his arms. 

“This is too public.” The other dark haired man you saw in the window with Dick entered, glancing around nervously. “Get her out of here.” Wally picked you up and zoomed off. Sometime along the way, you fainted.

***

You woke on a soft bed with an older man hovering nearby. He smiled when he saw you open your eyes. The lights were dim in whatever room you were in. In the distance, you swore you heard bats screeching. 

“Hello, Miss (Y/N).” He patted your arm. “Do you remember me?” 

You studied him, but shook your head. He wasn’t a threat, because you didn’t even tense when you saw him. 

The man smiled gently. “I am Alfred.” He held up his hands. “Is it alright if I examine your head?”

You nodded. A lump was in your throat, memories floating back to you. Alfred carefully ran his hands over your head, feeling for any bumps. You winced when he touch a spot toward the back of your head. “It hurts there.” 

Alfred hummed. “I see.” He pulled away. “I am going to alert the others that you are awake.” You tensed, scared to find out what else you didn’t remember. Three years. You were missing three years. “Don’t worry, Miss (Y/N). It will be a calm discussion. We only want to figure out what is going on.” He patted your knee and left the area. 

You pulled the sheet up and around you. Your fingers rested on the edge of the sheet, the ring on your wedding finger sparkling beautifully. How could you forget something so important? You must have loved Dick, right? You snorted. What a name. You hoped it was short for Richard.

Wally came in first. He smiled in relief, coming to your side. “Hey, glad you’re awake, sis. You gave me a heart attack when you fainted on me.” He sat on the edge of your bed. 

Dick followed him. He started toward you, but stopped and moved to lean against the far wall. The other dark haired man from before entered and took a seat on the chair at the end of the bed. 

“Here we go, Miss (Y/N). You should at least drink something,” Alfred said, appearing with a cup of steaming tea. You took it from him, giving him a timid smile in thanks. “I’ll bring a meal in a bit. Remember we are going to proceed calmly.” Alfred glared at the three men in the room. You liked him already.

“Let’s start from the beginning. What the last thing you remember, (Y/N)?” The dark haired man asked, leaning forward and studying you with an intense gaze, your hands began to shake with nerves. Alfred smacked his arm as he passed and the man’s gaze softened. 

You took a sip of tea, gathering your thoughts. Sneaking a peek at Dick, you saw the pain in his eyes. “I remember being at gymnastic practice at Central City U. Everyone had left and I stayed to see if I could do Olga Korbut’s uneven bars routine from the 1972 Olympics. Oh my god, Walls, you remember how much I loved her routine. She was moving like an angel.” You grinned, feeling relaxed for the first time since you woke up to find everything strange and unfamiliar. A small smile pulled at Dick’s lips. You wondered if he liked gymnastics too. 

“And you fell after I and your coach caught you in the middle of a high bar dismount.” Wally sighed, crossing his arms. “You hit your head, but you were fine afterwards.” 

“I don’t remember that.” You bit your lip, holding the cup of tea tightly. “I just remember falling and then I woke up in the hospital with...Dick.” You met Dick’s eye. His smile fell into a firm line. 

The dark haired man hummed. “You remember nothing else?”

You leaned into Wally. He wrapped his arm around you. “Just stuff before. Like growing up at home then living with Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry in Central City when Mom and Dad were having problems. Graduating high school, going to college on a gymnastic scholarship.” You looked at Wally. “Did I finish college? Please tell me I did.”

Wally chuckled. “You did. With top honors.” He kissed your temple. “Of course, then you ran off with Dick afterwards.” Wally glared over at Dick. Dick snorted. You glanced between the men, confused. 

“Was I not supposed to?” You bit your lip when Dick burst out laughing suddenly. Wally narrowed his eyes at you. 

“No, you weren’t. He’s older than you and was one of my best friends.” Wally pulled away from you, crossing his arms. “I made a mistake and invited him to my engagement party after working so hard to keep you away from this life, then all of a sudden, you married him.”

You looked at Dick, knowing you must have loved him quite a bit to piss Wally off so bad. “Enough.” The dark haired man got to his feet. “We need to focus on what’s important.” 

“Bruce, we are focusing on what’s important,” Dick said after he stopped laughing. “(Y/N) might remember if we remind her.” He smiled at you with a charm that made your skin tingle. Maybe there was something there?

The dark haired man, now Bruce, shook his head. “No, there is something going on here. Don’t you think it’s strange that (Y/N) happened to forget about you? Three years is specific.” Bruce pointed a finger at Dick’s chest. “It’s very specific that the last thing she remembers happened the day before you met her at West’s engagement party.”

Dick sobered. “Are you suggesting someone erased me from (Y/N)’s memory? Who could even do that?”

Wally took the cup of tea from you when your hands started shaking so hard that it threatened to slosh out. “It’s okay,” Wally soothed, rubbing your back. “You’re fine, we’ll figure this out, okay?”

“Don’t you think it’s odd that a day after you two announced your pregnancy that (Y/N) takes a fall during patrol and forgets about you?” Bruce said, waving his hand in the air. “We need to open an investigation.”

Your blood drained out of your face. Pregnancy? You looked down at your stomach with wide eyes. Heart monitors on your stomach, the loss of your center of balance? Wally was staring at your stomach too. His face white as a sheet.

“Shit, Bruce. Just let the cat out of the bag, huh?” Dick rushed to your side. He hesitated before taking your hand. “(Y/N), sweetheart. Don’t freak out. You’re fine, the baby’s fine.”

“Baby?” You looked at him, chest tightening. Breathing became a struggle. Every muscle in your body tensed, trembling. “No, no, no, no. I can’t...I don’t remember anything.” Your cheeks felt wet, tears escaping. 

Suddenly, you were in Dick’s arms with your head pressed against his chest. “Breathe with me, sweetheart. One breath at a time.” His calm heartbeat loud in your ear. You fought to slow down, trying to breathe in rhythm with him. Wally disappeared from your side. Your hand clutched at Dick’s shirt. He tightened his arms around you. “There you go. You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart. Nothing to freak out about. We’re taking care of it.” 

You buried your face into his chest, breathing in his scent. He smelled of sweat, cologne, and laundry detergent. Your abdomen tingled as if your body remember that scent. You found you liked it. 

“I’m heading out. Call me if there is an emergency,” Wally said. You looked up at him, eyes widening. Wally wouldn’t look at you and Dick, arms crossed. “I’ll let Mom know you’re okay.” With that, he zoomed off.

“But...” You blinked, your heart felt like it was ripped from your chest. “Why?” You looked at Dick. Dick smiled sadly at you.

He kissed your temple. “I’ll explain later.” Dick kept his arms around you as you sobbed. You buried your face into his chest, feeling so cold and alone. Your head ached as you tried to remember. How could you not remember getting pregnant or getting married? Why did Wally abandon you with these strangers that weren’t strangers, but were? Dick’s chin rested on the top of your head, not saying a word.

***

Dick stumbled out of medbay, exhausted and heartbroken. The bats screeched in the distance. The cool air in the cave made him shiver. You had cried yourself to sleep. Dick wished he could have comforted you, but he didn’t know how. What do you do when your wife doesn’t remember even meeting you? 

Bruce was at the computer, working away on the theory he had throw out in front of you. Dick’s hand clenched into a fist. It was bad enough you were recovering from the news that you forgotten three years of your life and your husband, but to find out you’re pregnant and that someone may have erased your memory. No wonder you broke down. 

Dick turned away from Bruce and headed up the stairs to the manor, needing distance. The absolute terror in your face when you looked at him in that coffee shop bathroom haunted him. He never wanted to see that expression on your face again.

Delicious smells came from the kitchen, drawing Dick toward it. His stomach growled. The last time he ate was that sandwich Alfred had brought him in the hospital. Dick ran his fingers through his hair. Was that a day ago? Time went by so fast after you woke up.

“Hey, Dick,” Tim said as Dick entered the kitchen. Alfred was over the stove, stirring a pot of what looked to be his special chicken noodle soup. Tim sat at the counter with a sandwich and a bowl of soup. 

“Hi, Timmy.” Dick collapsed into the stool next to Tim and took half of the sandwich from his plate. 

Tim watched him worriedly. “So how’s (Y/N)?”

Dick took a big bite of the sandwich. “Not great.” He mumbled with food in his mouth. Alfred turned to glare at Dick before going back to the stove. A jolt ran through Dick. Dick waited until he swallowed to continue. “She just cried herself to sleep in my arms. Bruce let slip that she’s pregnant, then Wally got all mad again and ran off.” Alfred poured another bowl of soup and set it in front of Dick. “I’m worried what the stress is doing to her and the baby.”

“This is why I suggested a calm discussion.” Alfred set a spoon next to Dick’s bowl. “Is she asleep?” 

“Yeah.” Dick finished his sandwich and started on the soup. His eyes caught the ring on his finger. The one you had specially made for him. His heart broke once again. 

“Well, I’ll prepare a tray and take it down. She needs to eat.” Alfred moved to grab a serving tray. 

Tim eyed Dick and Alfred. “So it’s true then?”

“What’s true?” Dick glanced at Tim, frowning at how pale he was. 

“(Y/N) doesn’t remember you or us or...anything?” Tim swallowed hard. The food in front of him forgotten. 

Dick took another spoonful of soup, pushing away the urge to cry. “No, she doesn’t.” He froze, noting the shifting shadow by the kitchen door. “Damian, come on out.”

“TT.” Damian stepped out and came over to sit beside Dick. Alfred raised an eyebrow and quickly served Damian a bowl of soup too. “Can I see her?”

“Let’s give Miss (Y/N) space for now.” Alfred picked up the serving tray. “I’ll bring this down to her.” He left the room.

The three ate in silence. Dick slipped into his own thoughts, your face flashing before his eyes again. He dropped his spoon and buried his face in his hands. “It’s probably not permanent,” Tim said, biting his lip. 

“Or it is.” Dick groaned, dropping his hands. “Do you know how it felt to see her so scared? She climbed out the hospital window and ran out into the street. Then she called Wally. Wally! They haven’t spoken in a year.” 

Tim laid a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Dick glanced at Tim. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything, Tim.” 

“No, but I’m sorry just the same.” Tim pulled away to play with his spoon. 

“TT.” Damian jumped off his stool and took his bowl to the sink. 

Dick watched him. “Damian, you okay?” It helped to focus on something else. He’d rather comfort his brother than deal with his own emotions at the moment. 

Damian spun and glared at him. “You are weak.” Dick and Tim flinched. Damian shook his head. “You are just giving up. If (Y/N) doesn’t remember you, then make her remember you.” 

“It’s not that simple, Dami.” Dick got to his feet and came to kneel in front of Damian. “This isn’t something you can just fix.” He rested his hands on Damian’s shoulders. 

“TT, then you take it one day at a time until (Y/N) remembers everything you had, everything we all had.” Damian jerked out of Dick’s grip and walked away. “Fool.”

Dick stayed on his knees. His body froze, shocked to his core. “So you’re saying I get (Y/N) to fall in love with me again?” He turned to look at Tim, who was nodding. “That’s not going to work. I don’t know how we did, it just happened.”

“You mean you don’t have any idea how you fell in love with (Y/N)? Come on, that’s not true.” Tim chuckled, getting to his feet and started to clean up the dishes. “You told me how you saw her from across the room and basically drew to her like a starving man to bread.”

“I didn’t say that.” Dick got to his feet and started to wash the dishes. Tim grabbed a towel to dry. 

“Yeah, you did. It might have been after your wedding night and you were half asleep, but you did.” Tim smirked. “(Y/N) said you drank too much, but then Jason made that crude comment and you whaled on him.” 

“Okay, I remember that. (Y/N) made me sleep on the couch until our honeymoon.” Dick felt a smile pulled at his lips. It felt wrong. Why should he be smiling when he lost the love of his life?

Tim laughed. “I didn’t know that part.” He dried a bowl and put it away. “I think if you help (Y/N) relive those moments, it might spark her memory.” Tim shrugged. “Unless Bruce’s theory is right.” 

Dick choked, dropping a dish into the sink. “I pray he’s not. Who would do such a thing?” He grabbed another dish towel to dry his hands, shaking. 

“Don’t think about that now.” Tim grabbed Dick’s arm. “Calm down.” 

“How can I be calm, Tim?! My wife doesn’t remember me at all!” Dick threw his hands up in the air. 

“Quiet.” Dick turned to see Cass staring at him, silently appearing like she always did. He should have heard her. Suddenly, her hand shot out and Dick fell limp to the ground.

“Cheap trick.” Dick mumbled, his cheek rested on the floor. HIs body paralyzed from the nerve strike. 

Tim knelt down next to Dick’s head. Dick felt Tim’s thin fingers checking his pulse. “Little much, Cass, don’t ya think?”

“He needed rest. No sleep for days. Sloppy.” Cass grabbed Dick’s arm and pulled him up. Tim grabbed Dick’s other arm and they drag him out of the kitchen.

Dick closed his eyes, letting the darkness of sleep take him. The last thing he remember was being flopped down onto a couch.  

***

You leaned against headrest, keeping your eyes on the city outside. “So we live in Gotham?” The car was clean and smelled like mint from the bat shaped car refresher. 

“Well, no.” Dick cleared his throat, keeping one hand on the wheel while rubbing the yellowing bruise on his neck. You asked him about it, he just said it was what he needed. Whatever that meant. “We live in one of the suburbs between Gotham and Bludhaven.” He glanced over at you somewhat nervously. “Bruce bought us a house for our wedding gift. Decked it out with everything, even added a secret tunnel that would take us straight into Gotham or Bludhaven in minutes.” 

“And Bruce is your adoptive father and Batman.” You frowned, playing with the sleeves of the sweatshirt you were wearing. Apparently, it was yours, but you don’t remember seeing it before. You sighed. It was a common occurrence nowadays. “Damian, Tim, Cass, and Jason are your siblings. Tim, Cass, and Jason are adopted while Damian is Bruce’s biological son.”

Dick nodded. A smile pulled at his lips. “Yeah, that’s right.” He glanced over at you. You met his eye. It sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. Over the last few days, you noticed you were feeling those shivers more and more. You played with your wedding ring, unable to take it off. It felt wrong to remove it.

“You’re Nightwing and I’m...” It was on the tip of your tongue. 

“Redwing. Red from the Flash and wing from me,” Dick said after several seconds of silence. “You didn’t go out too often. Mostly to help me out if I needed backup.”

“And we both run a trapeze and gymnastics school?” You folded your arms across your chest. Your heart glowed with joy at having your dream job of teaching gymnastics. 

Dick nodded. “And dance and boxing.” He looked back at the road. “We added those recently, wanting to reach out to more kids.” 

Your eyes fell to the ring on his finger. “Did I give you that ring?” 

“You did.” Dick’s hand left the wheel and was held out in front of you. You took it, feeling the calluses that were very similar to yours. The ring was a dark gray metal with no scratches or marks. “You had Superman make it out of some kind of Kryptonian metal, so it doesn’t wear or tear.”

Tracing the ring, you frowned. You tried to remember, pushing your brain until a headache blossomed in your temple. “I’m sorry.” You let go of his hand and turned away to look out the window. 

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Dick rested his hand on your knee. You tensed. Dick flinched his hand away. “Sorry.” He bit his lip. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’re figuring this out. One day at a time.”

Tears filled your eyes. He had been saying that a lot over the last few days. One day at a time. Like that was supposed to help you get three years back. “Are Iris and Barry really gone?”

“Yes, I don’t understand it all myself.” He looked at you as if you were going to break into pieces. “Apparently, they got sent to the future. Wally’s the Flash now.”

“Wally married Linda and had two kids who I’ve haven’t seen in a year because Wally hates that we’re together.” You took a deep breath. “Mom remarried after Dad disappeared and now lives in Europe. She agrees with Wally. Not surprising. She always liked him more.” 

“That’s not true.” Dick drove down a street of very nice houses. Suddenly, he turned into a driveway of a beautiful huge white house. It was surrounded by trees, offering privacy from the neighbors. “Here we are.” 

Your jaw dropped. “This is the house?” You quickly got out of the car to get a better look at it. Dick followed you.

“You like it?” He came to your side.

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect something so...large.” You walked ahead to the front door and took out a key from under the mat. It didn’t occur to you until the key was in your hand that your body must have remembered the motion. You looked back at Dick to find him staring at you with hopeful eyes. A lump formed in your throat.

“Go on in, sweetheart. I’ll get the car in the garage.” Dick climbed back into the car and opened the garage door. You pushed open the door and walked into the quiet, dark house. A motion sensor light clicked on along with a soft alarm. Your heart stopped.

Dick suddenly ran in behind you. “Sorry, forgot about that.” He typed in a code into the box in the corner by the door. A sensor popped out and Dick widened his eyes for it to scan his retinas. “There you go.” He turned back to you and started to lean forward, but stopped when you backed away. His face fell. “Don’t worry. It’s just our security system.” With that, he went back out the door to the car. 

You watched him go. Blood rushed to your face when you realized you were looking at his butt. You covered your eyes, telling yourself that he was your husband and you probably could look at his butt. However, the embarrassment didn’t go away. It was a very nice ass though.

Slowly, you wandered through a beautifully decorated living room and dining room, stopping to study the pictures on the walls. There were a few of you as a child, along with you assumed were Dick’s childhood photos. You stopped at a picture of you and Wally as kids. Both of you were in swim suits with the blow up pool behind you. Wally’s arms were around you, both of you grinning as your mom snapped the picture.

Tears filled your eyes again, but you pushed them away. You had enough of crying for one day. 

You explored the rest of the ground floor, finding the kitchen, pantry, office and a bathroom. It was so beautiful that you felt out of place. This was something you always dreamed about. Your own home, a place where you always belonged. You went upstairs. Another bathroom and three bedrooms. Two were empty, one made up into a guest bedroom. At the end of the hall, there were double doors. You swallowed hard and opened them.

The master bedroom was decorated by you. That you recognized right away. It very close to the bedrooms you designed as a teen when you couldn’t sleep after gymnastic practice. You would cut out photos from home magazines and print out pictures from the internet to paste together a mock room design for your dream home. 

The bed looked so comfortable, you went over and laid down on it. It was as soft as you liked it. The comforter and sheets smooth on your skin. You stared up at the ceiling. Your dreams really came true, didn’t they? Maybe this was some form of karma. You got what you always wanted, but now you can’t remember the pieces that made it all happen.

“Hey, you found our room,” Dick said, coming in with the bags. You recognized one of the bags as the one you stole clothes from at the hospital. He set the bags on the armchair in the corner. “You picked everything out in here, I was just along for the ride.”

“So we’re both sleeping here?” You asked, stomach twisting with nerves. Dear god, it felt like you were about to have your wedding night with this man. 

Dick paused, smile faltering. “No, I’ll be in the guest room.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to rush things for you. It wouldn’t be healthy for you or the baby.”

Your hand went to your stomach. There was a slight bump, which you only noticed after you found out you were pregnant. Dick’s eyes watched your hand. “Right, sure.” You got up from the bed and wandered toward the door in the corner. It led to a master bathroom with a walk in shower and giant tub in the corner. “Bruce really went all out, huh?”

“Yeah, he did.” Dick followed you, leaning against the doorframe as you peeked into the shower. “You told him about the house you dreamed about as a child and he made it for you and me.” 

“I told him about it? But I never told anyone about it. Not even Wally.” You spun to look at Dick. That pleasant shiver went up your spine as he smiled at you. His eyes sparkling with what seemed to be love. 

“You told me on the night we met. It was after Wally and Linda’s engagement party. Everyone was passed out drunk or left. You and I stayed to clean while Wally took care of Linda. We got to talking and I offered to take you out for breakfast at three am.” Dick sighed. “We talked until seven am, telling each other everything.”

You blinked. “Everything?” Your eye caught the photo on the wall. It was of you and Dick standing in front of the Golden Gate bridge. The two of you gazed into each other’s eyes, foreheads pressed together. “Like this? Is this our honeymoon?”

“No, that was a trip we took the summer after we met.” Dick came to your side. He kept a safe distance between you and him. “We were keeping our relationship a secret. Linda and Wally’s wedding was a month later and we didn’t want to cause trouble.”

You hummed, noting how happy you were in the photo. “I wish I remembered.” Dick hesitated before gently reaching over to rub your shoulder. You forced yourself not to tense. His touch felt nice, warm.

“You will, but for now, I’ll remind you.” Dick smiled. His pain was almost hidden, but you could see it in his eyes. He took your hand. The contact alone made you want to cry. Dick tugged you. “Come on, let me show you the basement.”

“That’s not creepy at all.” You laughed halfheartedly, letting Dick lead you down the stairs to a part of a wall with a framed poster of the Flying Graysons on it. “Is it hidden for a reason?”

Dick winked at you. A jolt ran through your abdomen. “Remember that tunnel I told you about? Well, we don’t want that out in the open.” He touched the side of a frame and a fingerprint scanner popped out. “Always use your thumb.” He pressed his thumb and it dinged. The wall swung open revealing a staircase. “It scans you as you walk. If it doesn’t recognize you, the alarms go off and you’ll get sealed in the stairwell.” 

“So this is like the safe room then?” You went in first, scared but comforted by the fact Dick was right behind you. 

“Yeah, this would be the place to go if we have a situation like that. Of course, they’d have to try to get into the house first. I’ll show you how to lock down the house too.” Dick slipped around you once you reached the bottom of the stairs and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. The weight of his arm felt right.  “What do you think?”

It was a huge underground base with big computer on one side. Costume displays were build into the wall. Three motorcycles and one military looking car sat at the far end. You pulled away from Dick to look at the workout area. There was a lot of equipment, but the only thing you focused on was the uneven bars.

You broke into a run toward the uneven bars and glide kipped onto the lower bar before doing a flip to the high bar. “Careful,” Dick chuckled, leaning against one of the punching bags nearby. “Your balance is off because of the baby.” 

“Right.” You did a few backward giants before slipping into a few piked Stalders. A laugh escaped you. You couldn’t even begin to describe the joy you had. Your body ached for this. 

You did a tucked Jaeger release before flipping down the lower bar. It felt unsteady, but you quickly adjusted to your change in weight. You did a toe-on release back to the high bar. Gaining momentum with a few more backward giants, you did a layout Jaeger release. Your grip slipped slightly, but you held on with one hand. 

A scream slipped out when you tried to gain control. Suddenly, arms wrapped around your waist and you were pulled down from the bar. “It’s okay, I got you.” Dick pressed you against his chest until your feet were on the floor.

“I should have chalked first.” You bit your lip, face burning. Dick’s arms stayed around you. The walls felt like they were closing in. Reality sunk your stomach to the floor. Who were you if you couldn’t remember?

“You were amazing.” Dick started to lean forward, but froze when you pulled away from him. You avoided his gaze.

“Right.” Hot tears filled your eyes, out of your control. “I’m tired. I’ll go lay down for a while.” You walked away briskly, head down.

Dick sighed loudly behind you. “Okay, I’ll wake you for dinner.” You glanced back at him to give him a quick nod before disappearing up the stairs. 

***

“I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t get up from bed and only eats what I bring her.” Dick stood up from the kitchen table and poured himself another cup of coffee. “I thought coming home would help spark her memory or at the very least cheer her up, but she’s depressed.” 

Alfred hummed and sipped his tea. He settled back in his seat at the table in your kitchen. You were upstairs, still in bed despite it being two in the afternoon. “Well, that is not healthy.”

“No, it’s not. I’m scared for her and the baby.” Dick sank back into his seat. “I don’t know what to do, Alfred.”

“Have you tried talking to Mr. West again? Perhaps Miss (Y/N) needs someone familiar around?” Alfred crossed his arms, pursing his lips.

“Wally won’t answer my calls. I tried calling him, but he won’t pick up.” Dick ran a hand through his hair. “I called with her phone to see if he would pick up for (Y/N), but nothing. Her mother is not answering either, which isn’t a surprise. I debated calling Bart Allen or Jesse Chambers or even Jay Garrick, but I don’t know if it would be a comfort to her. She wasn’t very close to them.” 

“I swear that man and his mother are almost as stubborn as Master Bruce.” Alfred stood up and moved around the kitchen. “Did Miss (Y/N) have any cravings?”

Dick smiled halfheartedly as Alfred looked through the cabinets. “Well, not recently, but before everything, she was dying for pot stickers and refried beans. We had them every night for two weeks.” 

Alfred shook his head. “I suppose we can add a salad on the side.” He started to cook, gesturing for Dick to get out. “Now I need you to come up with a plan to get Miss (Y/N) out of bed. It’s best that we don’t have to force her out.”

“Right.” Dick sipped at his coffee and left the kitchen. He racked his brain. There had to be a way to get you out of bed on your own. He was a fool for expecting Alfred to come over and magically fix everything. Dick smiled. However, if he figured out a way to get you up, Alfred’s food would probably keep you up. It was going to be way better than the food Dick had made for you the last few days.

Dick wandered upstairs and stopped outside an empty bedroom. This was the room you planned for the baby. Nothing was in it yet. In fact, it wasn’t even painted. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in Dick’s head. After all, you were still you, even if you didn’t remember the last three years. 

***

“Oops.” You jerked awake, sitting up in bed. Your eyes felt sticky, your body more tired than you ever felt before. The master bedroom was empty, but the doors to the rest of the house was open. “Damn, which color was it supposed to be again?”

It was Dick’s voice. You frowned. Curiosity tickled you. You felt the urge to get up and see what he was doing. Honestly, you were waiting for something to happen. Wallowing in self pity and sorrow only seemed worthwhile for so long.

You pulled back the covers and got to your feet. The pajamas you wore were a little tight around your stomach, the baby bump revealing itself. You still couldn’t believe you were pregnant and married. How do you forget something so important? It was like you were living someone else’s life.

“It couldn’t be black, could it?” Dick’s voice echoed down the hall. Your heart jolted. Why did you have a sense of dread? 

You went down the hall, not caring that you were walking around in pajamas and bed hair. Dick was in one of the empty bedrooms surrounded by boxes and paint cans. He was holding up paint sample cards to the wall, clearly deep in thought. “What are you doing?” you asked.

He flinched, dropping his sample cards. “(Y/N)? Oh, good. I was thinking of painting this bedroom. We were going to make this the baby’s room, but white walls are just so boring. I was trying find a color that matches those decorations.” He nodded to the boxes. 

You knelt down to look through the box, getting curiouser by the minute. Inside was a ton of baby decorations, all circus themed. “Wait, you were thinking black for the walls?” You looked up at him in disbelief. Your eye caught the black paint sample on the floor. “Black? For a baby’s room?”

“Yeah, it would really bring out the circus theme.” Dick’s eyes were wide with innocence. You swore you saw a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“No, that’s not happening.” You got to your feet and took the paint samples from him. “I mean what are you thinking?” 

“I don’t know. This is more your thing.” Dick shrugged as you tossed the black sample over your shoulder while keeping the others. You held them against the wall and glanced back at the decorations in the box. “I think we should go with this blue.” You handed him the right sample.

Dick grinned. “Yeah, I can see it now.” He came up behind you and held the paint sample to the wall. “I’ll go buy the paint.” You shivered, feeling his breath against your neck.

“Miss (Y/N), Master Dick, dinner is served.” Alfred appeared in the doorway. You crossed your arms.

“I’m not very hungry, Alfred. Sorry.” You moved away from Dick and toward the door.

“That’s too bad, because I made pot stickers, refried beans, and a green salad.” Alfred sighed and headed down the stairs. Your stomach growled. You found yourself following him.

“You did?” Wrapping your arms around yourself, you licked your lips. “When did you get here, Alfred?”

Alfred shrugged. “A few hours ago.” He disappeared around the corner. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Dick came up behind you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders to lead you toward the kitchen. “We’ll finish the baby’s room later.” 

You frowned, glancing back at the room. Did you really marry a man who thought black was a good color to paint a room? No wonder most of the house was your designs. “I suppose I could eat. Since I’m up and all.” 

Dick hummed. You glanced at him, wondering once more what you saw in him. He was hot, you admitted to yourself, and kind. You pondered some more as you both joined Alfred for dinner.

***

With your stomach full and satisfied, you ended up in the baby’s room again. You offered to help with dishes, but Alfred refused your help, instead making Dick do them as Alfred had to head home to take care of Bruce. 

Kneeling down next to the box of decorations, you sorted through it. There was were pictures of circus animals, a worn stuffed elephant, a circus mobile, crib sheets with lion and lion tamers on them etc. You noticed a lack of clowns, but then remembered the Joker and thought it was for the best. 

“We have the crib, but it’s still in the box in the closet. Bruce and Alfred sent it over once we told them the news.” Dick’s voice made you flinch. You forced yourself to relax as he slowly made his way to sit down next to you on the floor. He kept a nice distance between you, sensing your unease.

“That was nice of them.” You bit your lip. Dick reached over to take the worn stuffed elephant, smirking at it. “That was yours, wasn’t it?”

Dick looked up at you in surprise. The hopefulness in his eyes panged your heart. You didn’t remember that, you just guessed. “Yeah, I grew up with Sikta. She’s named after one of the elephants we had in the circus.” He chuckled, glancing back at the stuffed elephant. “She used to tease me by spraying water on me when I was close by and I would sneak her peanuts.”

“Wow.” You felt a smile pull at your lips. “We didn’t have any pets when I was little. Mom and Dad wouldn’t let us and with Wally being a superhero. No one had the time I guess.” You shrugged, taking out a few classic children books. “These were mine.” You opened them to see your messy three year old handwriting inside. “I wrote my name in them because Wally always did it to his.”

“Is that your name? Wow, your handwriting has gotten much better.” Dick teased, leaning closer to look at the book with you. You got a whiff of his cologne, faded, but still there. 

His words gave you pause. “Did I take your name?” You looked at him, blinking when you found him only inches away from you. He turned, his lips almost brushing yours. 

“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “You said your name sounded better as (Y/N) Grayson instead of (Y/N) West.” A blush came to his cheeks. “I was quite flattered.”

“Is that why Wally doesn’t approve?” You took a deep breath, breathing in his scent. It made your body relax. Your abdomen buzzed with excitement. 

“No.” Dick sighed. He paused before slowly wrapping an arm around your waist. You found you didn’t mind the touch. “I don’t know for sure to be honest. He hated that we were together and that we kept it a secret for so long. Wally always said that he worked hard to keep you from this life. I think he didn’t want you to be apart of the superhero life and by being with me, you joined it.” 

You pursed your lips. “Right, so I should be the one left out? It’s bad enough that I spend holidays alone with Mom and Dad when Wally ran off to save the world. At least with Aunt Iris, it was just me and her when Wally and Barry ran off. Less fighting and passive aggressive comments all the time.” 

“Do you want to try to call him?” Dick looked at you with those sparkling blue eyes. You found yourself awed by them. Hopefully, the baby would get his eyes. They were so much prettier than yours. 

“No.” You turned back to the books, picking up the Peter Pan book. Opening the cover, you smiled sadly when you saw Wally’s name crossed out and replaced with your own. Dick’s chin rested on your shoulder, looking with you. “I don’t think it will do any good.”

“You don’t know that.” Dick pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “But I’ll support whatever you want to do.” You felt him smile into you, feeling it through your pajamas. 

You felt yourself crack like the ground during an earthquake. Your emotions swelled to the surface.

“I’m sorry.” Tears welled up in your eyes uncontrollably. You turned away from him. “I’m sorry I don’t remember. I’m sorry I don’t know you like you know me.” A sob slipped out. It was unstoppable. You felt like there was no way to put a lid on your emotions. “It’s horrible to see the hope in your eyes, but the truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever remember because nothing here triggers anything for me.” You glanced around the room. “I don’t remember buying this stuff, I don’t remember anything of the photos of us, or decorating this beautiful home.” You choked, wiping your tears with your sleeve. “It’s hopeless.”

Dick pulled you into his arms, letting you rest your head on his chest. “It’s not hopeless and you don’t need to be sorry. You can’t help it. I understand that.” He kissed the top of your head. You relaxed, soothed by his scent and warmth. Your body certainly remembered him, but why couldn’t the rest of you? “I love you, (Y/N). During our vows, I promised to be with you even after death parted us. We’ll work through this.” He chuckled softly. “If anything, we’ll just have to make new memories and stop focusing on remembering the old.”

You looked up at you, smiling at his goofy grin. “Did we really promise each other that in our wedding vows?” 

“We did.” Dick leaned down. His lips brushed softly against your cheeks, making your entire body light up in pleasure. “We’ll just have to get married over again, so you can have new memories.”

You blinked. “Do you really mean that?” His lips left you aching for more. He got to his feet and held out his hand. 

“Yeah, I do.” He winked at you. “Come on, let’s get out of here and watch a movie or something? Maybe we can discuss what kind of memories we want to make while we do it?” 

You nodded, starstruck. Now you could see how you fell in love with him. He was just so...charming. You took his warm hand and got to your feet. Hope was reborn inside you.

***

To say Dick felt great would have been an understatement. He was practically skipping through patrol. Many of the criminals he found were quite surprised by the happy Nightwing who wouldn’t stop smiling as he knock their lights out. 

He finished up patrol early and picked up a few things. Dick couldn’t believe he was so stupid. You needed to make new memories instead of him trying to force the old on you. Yes, it hurt him to know you didn’t remember the first time you met, the time he proposed, the wedding, you telling him you were pregnant... Dick swallowed hard, pushing his own feelings aside. He had to focus on you.

Dick took the tunnel home and quickly changed out of his suit. He showered quickly before the food he picked up could melt. Jogging up the stairs, Dick felt like he could do anything. 

The kitchen light was on. Dick frowned slightly, wondering if you were up. He knew he turned that off.

As he stepped inside, he froze when he saw a tall, masculine figure leaning inside the fridge. Dick carefully set the bag down on the floor and crept up behind the figure. He grabbed the figure by the back of their leather jacket and pulled them back out of the fridge. The figure grunted, elbowing Dick in the stomach. 

Dick groaned before using his strength and position to push the figure into a hold over the kitchen counter. “What the hell?” the figure said. “You greet all your visitors like this, Dickhead?” 

“Jason?” Dick blinked, feeling stupid for not recognizing the brown leather jacket that Jason always wore. He let his brother go. Jason groaned, stretching his arms. “What are you doing here?”

“I got back from four months in space yesterday, so I decided to stop by and get something to eat while on my way back to Gotham,” Jason said, glaring at Dick. “(Y/N) said I was always welcome. She even gave me a key.”

Dick sighed. He rolled his shoulders to try to relax. “Right.” He took the groceries out of the bag and slipped around Jason to put them away in the fridge. Jason licked his lips at the sight. “It’s not for you. Don’t touch them.” 

“Why not?” Jason snorted, opening a cabinet to take out a bag of chips. 

“Jay, did you get any news while you were away?” Dick closed the freezer and leaned against it with his arms crossed. “I’m assuming no, because you wouldn’t have sneaked in here if you did.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “I know you spawned. Tim sent me the announcement card.” He shrugged his shoulder, shoving a chip into his mouth. “Congrats, I guess,” he mumbled with his mouth full. 

Dick held back a wince. That felt so long ago. You were so excited to send out those announcements. “Something happened with (Y/N).” He swallowed hard when Jason suddenly froze, staring at Dick with wide eyes. “She’s fine, physically at least. The baby is too.” Dick held up his hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jason finished chewing and swallowed before he spoke. “So what happened?” His eyes darkened. Dick almost smiled. He always found it funny how protective Jason became of you once you joined the family. Then again, everyone in the family felt the same way. 

“(Y/N) took a fall during patrol a few weeks ago.” The memory flashed before his eyes. He had to blink it away. “She was in a coma for about a week. When she finally woke up, she didn’t remember me.” He bit his lip, hating the horror dawning on Jason’s face. “She doesn’t remember anything from the last three years. The last thing she remembered was the day before Wally’s engagement party.”

“Shit.” The color drained out of Jason’s face. “I’m sorry. Geez, I could have scared her to death if she found me, huh?” He ran a hand through his hair at the same time Dick did. Dick noticed, but Jason didn’t. 

“It’s okay, you didn’t get the message.” Dick rested a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “If you want to crash on the couch, I can introduce you. She’s met the others again already.” 

“Why can’t I take the guest room?” Jason met Dick’s eye, having a ‘duh’ moment. “Oh, right. I suppose if she doesn’t remember you at all, you won’t just jump into bed together.”

Dick hummed, tensing when he heard a creak from the stairs. “So the couch is what I can offer you. We’re going to make up the other bedroom, but we haven’t got to that. I was going to set it up before...” 

Jason snorted, tilting his head. He heard you too.

Dick sighed before turning to meet you as you entered the kitchen. You took his breath away even with bedhead and those pajamas that were getting too small for your growing belly. “What’s going on?” you yawned, rubbing your eyes. You saw Jason and jumped at the stranger in your kitchen.

“Sweetheart.” Dick soothed, reaching out to take your hand. You relaxed slightly. “This is Jason, my brother.”

“Oh.” You laughed slightly. “Hi. Dick told me you’re the one who causes the most trouble.” You waved at him shyly. Dick could see the grief in Jason’s eyes once he realized you didn’t recognize him, but only knew of him. 

Jason quickly hid his feelings. “Nah, Dickhead is the troublemaker. Isn’t that why you’re knocked up?” He smirked when you seemed slightly taken back by the comment. 

You blushed, taking a step behind Dick to hide your pajamas. A somewhat awkward silence filled the room. Dick cleared his throat, squeezing your hand soothingly. “Can Jay stay the night on the couch?” he asked you. 

“Sure.” You bit your lip. “That would be fine. Sorry that the guest bedroom is already taken.” 

Jason shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ve been sleeping on a rock floor for the past week, so this will be luxury.” He shoved more chips in his mouth. 

“I’m going back to bed.” You slipped away. Dick turned, but you were gone as quickly as you came. 

“Wow, so you weren’t kidding. She doesn’t know us at all. Otherwise, she would have yelled at me for eating chips and insist I eat some leftovers or something.” Jason sighed, rolling up the chip bag and wiping his fingers on his jeans. 

Dick held his breath, listening to your footsteps as you moved around upstairs. “I have a plan though.”

Jason snorted, shaking his head. He grabbed a can of soda out of the fridge. “What? You’re going to hit her on the head again and see if it all comes back?” 

“No!” Dick punched Jason’s arm. Jason winced, rubbing his arm. “I thought I could trigger her memories with the house and photos, but it’s not working.” Dick bit his lip. “So I decided to make new memories with her. Tomorrow, I’m going to make her breakfast.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Right. Well, don’t mind me.” He waved a hand and brushed past Dick to go to the living room. Dick snorted, holding back a yawn of his own. He turned off the lights and headed upstairs to the lonely guest bedroom.

***

You stood in front of the full length mirror in the huge bathroom, studying yourself. Three years didn’t change much overall. Sure, your hair was different. Maybe your face thinned out a little, losing the bit of it’s childishness. 

You turned to the side. The baby bump was new. You remembered Dick said you were almost at the end of your fourth month. Running your hands over it, you smiled. Children had always been something you considered. Tears filled your eyes as you thought about finally having your own family.

Of course, you didn’t remember anything about your husband or the act of getting pregnant itself. You took a deep breath. “New memories,” you said to yourself. Dick was supportive of it and honestly you felt it was the only way to move forward.

The house was quiet for five in the morning. You had been awake since you heard Dick and Jason downstairs. Moping and sleeping for the past week left you full of an energy you weren’t sure what to do with.

After leaving Dick and Jason, you explore every single drawer and storage container in your bedroom. It was like shopping, discovering you still had amazing taste in clothes. Dick had nice clothes too. You blushed at the thought.

You rocked on your feet. Boredom was your problem now. 

With a sigh, you left the bathroom and collapsed onto the bed. You reached for your phone and started to look through your pictures again. There were a lot of selfies of you and Dick, a picture of an ultrasound, shots of Dick’s family doing silly things, and lots of kids and people you didn’t know. You guessed that they were people from your gymnastics school.

 But there was one person missing from your recent pictures. Wally.

Tears burned in your eyes. “New memories, but without my family.” A shaky breath slipped out of you as you opened your contacts and hovered your thumb over Wally’s name.

You remembered how Wally wouldn’t look you in the eye once he found out you were pregnant. How fast he ran out of the batcave, leaving you alone with people you didn’t know.

Your Wally wouldn’t do that. Never.

You hesitated, hovering your thumb over the call button. He probably wouldn’t be awake if he answered at all. You bit your lip.

Melancholy ate at your heart. You wanted to just see someone you knew. Uncle Barry, Aunt Iris, Wally. Even your mother or father would be great right now. 

Your stomach growled. A blush came to your cheeks. You sat up and looked at the double doors to the rest of the house. “It’s your house, you can go eat, you can do what you want,” you told yourself softly. Blueberry muffins with strawberry smoothies sounded good. Very good.

You stood up and went to the door. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door and stepped into the hallway to shuffle your way to the kitchen.

***

Dick woke to the smell of freshly made muffins and coffee. He opened his eyes and jerked up to his feet. “Crap.” He checked the clock only to find it to be seven in the morning. Blinking, he rubbed a hand over his face. Did he make the muffins already? Why would he be in bed though?

He grabbed a shirt from the foot of his bed and headed downstairs. Your laughter drifted from the kitchen along with Jason’s low chuckle. 

You and Jason were at the kitchen table with muffins and smoothies in front of you. Jason had a grin on his face. Dick’s heart stuttered when he saw a matching one on your lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw you  smile. A real smile.

“Hey, I was going to make you breakfast,” Dick said. He straightened his shoulders when your smile didn’t fall as you turned to look at him. “I picked up the fruit last night.”

“Sorry, I was hungry and up early. I saw the fruit and went with it.” You stood up. Dick’s eyes dropped to your bump. Still there. Slightly. He wished he could rest his hand on it, but he stopped himself. You might not be comfortable with that yet.

Jason glanced between Dick and you. He took a big bite of a muffin. You turned away. Dick raised an eyebrow at him. Jason just smiled while chewing.

“Close your mouth,” you said, patting Jason’s shoulder. Jason obeyed. Dick’s heart fluttered as he thought for a moment how it was like the old you. You took out another plate and glass. Dick took a seat across from Jason. 

“I was telling (Y/N) about my adventures in space,” Jason said once you sat back down and served Dick a muffin and a smoothie. 

You smiled, resting your chin in your hand. “I think you were on the part where you got drunk on alien beer and found yourself in bed with a three foot tentacle monster and a six breasted woman.” 

Dick choked on his smoothie. He coughed. You reached over to pat his back. Jason just laughed, leaning back in his seat.

It had been months of fighting back Savitar. So long trying to save Iris’ life. To change the future. They’d made some progress here and there, but…. Ultimately not enough. It was obvious that Barry wouldn’t be able to stop it. Wouldn’t be able to save her. And Barry Allen couldn’t live without Iris West.

What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t do everything in my power to keep them together?

A different back and forth had been happening, other than the battle of wills between Barry and his time duplicate. A battle of love. For years, I’d longed for Barry to stop looking at his best friend and to pay attention to me. To level those adoring eyes and loving gazed onto me instead of her. He never did. Sometimes I thought he might, almost like he was considering it. Just like the days that Iris almost paid attention to Barry. Almost saw him as something other than a brother, as she had decided he was. Almost.

Almost only counted in horseshoes and hand grenades, as the song goes. So I’d decided that if it came down to it - me or her - Barry would chose her. He already had, and he would again. He would be mad at me for doing this. He would be so, so angry. But he’d get over it eventually. He’d move on and reconcile. They’d fall in love one day. There was a newspaper by line proving it. He would be happy with her. One day his almost would turn into an absolute. He might not forget his friend, who had once been, but he would be happier in the end if this was me instead of her.

So I would die instead.

“Please don’t do it.”

I smiled when Caitlyn finally spoke. It was a lie when I smiled, when I looked at her with confusion. “Do what?”

Her gaze bore into mine. “I don’t know.” There was already mourning in her tone. Oh Caitlyn… poor Caitlyn. How much had she lost? How many? My one regret - I could t spare my other friends from my loss. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but you’ve been acting different. And it’s worrying me.”

I looked away, face scrunched as I worked on the design Cisco had asked me to work on. He had a new suit idea for the future, and being more gifted with a needle than him, I was usually the one he went to. I hoped to finish it before it was too late. Now it was an easy thing to focus on. To play casual with. “You worry too much Caitlyn.” A boldfaced lie. We all knew she worried exactly as much as she should. All her friends were suicidally wreckless. “I have no plans.” Another lie. I looked up at her, smiling again. “I’m worried about Iris too, but I know Barry will pull through. He always does.” I winked, nudging her. Too many lied for what was probably our last person to person conversation. “I promise, okay?”

She didn’t respond to that. She looked at the suit I was making. Like it was proof. And it was, in a way. Hadn’t I not been working on it this whole time? Hadn’t I said it would take me a while? Hadn’t I told Cisco it would be a while, with the little details I had to work out and all the stress around us? Too much stress, too much to do, not enough time to handle it all.

The fact that I was making time for this - I might have yelled it was my final act at the top of my lungs. Not that I had to, for the people that could see the unspoken words in the way I said goodbye and the words I didn’t say and the things I did or didn’t do. Not for people like Caitlyn. She would have always ended up here, unable to stop me but desperate to try, knowing I would do anything to save Barry from the agony he was facing. Knowing that I loved him enough to destroy myself.

Her best of all, who had seen it in her fiancé’s face the day he had promised to see her again, knowing he was doomed to die. Of Caitlyn. Poor, brilliant, amazing, wonderful Caitlyn. If only I could spare you from reliving this again…

I looked away, back toward my sewing. She didn’t believe me, we both knew it. But there was nothing else to be said. So we didn’t speak again, sitting in the last silence we’d get together. Too few days now until Iris was supposed to die. Until I would take her place instead.

-

“You know, it’s weird.” I looked up when Savatar spoke to me, no longer startled at the way he simply appeared in my room. He had been doing this since the day he had been exposed for who he was. The first time it had been terrifying, but it had soon become clear as to why he did it anyway, and over time I had gotten used to it.

“What’s weird?” I asked calmly, returning to my sewing. “The fact that you keep breaking into your future partner’s bedroom before even meeting in your own proper timeline, or the fact that I’m seeing a suit you don’t recognize?”

Savitar fought a smile. He was doom and gloom unless he was around me. Apparently in the future we fell in love or whatever. I couldn’t imagine knowing what I know now, and still falling in love with him. Knowing what he would do. Who he would become. How he would destroy the man I love now. Apparently, the future was a wild place. Or… would have been. How it’ll never have happened. Not for me and not for hun.

Perhaps we were soulmates after all.

“I knew I shouldn’t have reacted to that suit you’re making. Spoilers.”

I snorted, unable to handle the hilarity in a time duplicate coming backward in time to kill someone just to ensure his own existence, using Barry’s memories to put himself on top the whole time. He was a walking spoiler. His backstory alone was the most raw look into what was supposed to happen yet.

“So not the suit then,” I decided on, looping back to his original comment. “What’s weird?” I looked up at him briefly before returning to my work. I couldn’t help the tender spot I had for him. He was a darker, sadder Barry. All the same memories and expressions and body language but with more pain than even my Barry had. It was in my very blood and bones to want to cheer him up. To want to make it better. That I did understand. I knew that a future me would have carried that softness and kindness toward him. He had mention that was how he had fallen in love with me - the one who treated him like a person, who recognized and cared for him.

Perhaps that was how I managed to fall in love with him as well. The way that he was Barry enough to count, but different enough that it wasn’t bitter. Wasn’t overwhelming. Different enough that he wasn’t obsessed with Iris. We probably would have been happy.

Savitar watched me, as if studying me. “I love watching your mind work. All the things you never say that simply click together in your mind.” He swallowed, and I knew he was thinking about how much he missed me. Future me, who loved him without guilt. I wonder if he visited the older me when he wasn’t actively spending time taunting Barry and making plans to kill Iris. I wonder if future me knew where he was, what he was doing.

I sighed. He was right, I really did have too many thoughts to speak them out loud so rarely. He really did know me like no one else did. It was jarring. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s weird?”

His smile finally won out. It edged on a smirk, but was a little too soft around the edges while he looked at me. He looked so much less intimidating like this. So much more like Barry. “To see it happen like this. To see the seeds planted of our future even before we existed in the same way. To know you so deeply, when you don’t know me at all, knowing that later you’ll know me as deeply and I will be the one who’s surprised by it.” He sat down at the table across from me, studying my face. “I always wondered what it was like to go into a relationship knowing someone, hearing stories, being aware of the steps even before they happen. When I opened my eyes the first time and you smiled at me. When I realized that you were different, and I found out that you knew me all this time ago. I wondered if you started falling in love with me before I was created. I wondered if my coming back in time was an influence for you, as you being so familiar and comfortable with me so quickly was an influence for me. I had this idea in my mind that we were this never ending cycle. That we ended up together simply because we already knew we would end up together.”

My smile grew dry. “Time travel is a weird one,” I agreed. “And I can imagine what you mean. But… no. I don’t know when my future self fell in love with you, but it wasn’t now. It isn’t now for me at least. Maybe now that the future has changed it’ll be different.” I shrugged, not looking up. Thinking about how I would die, driven by my love for Barry. About how I would never get the chance to fall in love with Savitar to begin with.

His eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, catching my wrist. I looked up at him - and I saw it in his eyes. I saw the understanding and the accusation. I saw the rage there, as I’d seen it in Caitlyn. The mourning turning quickly to denial. To refusal. He saw my resolve, my plan, even though he couldn’t understand what it was or how I had come up with it. Why I had.

“What are you planning?” He demanded.

I met his eyes evenly, deflating a bit. It was harder to lie to this man. Not just because of his face, or his voice. Not just because he was so like Barry that he had a hold on me from day one. Now he was his own man, esperare from Barry, and he still had a hold on me. A part of me perhaps already did care for him. Perhaps that was the part that would have loved him one day. If we’d had the chance.

“I don’t have a plan.” My voice was even and unrelenting. His eyes flared with anger for a moment, and it seemed that he might lash out. But I was special to him. He didn’t know Iris, and he specifically hated Barry. Everyone else was lost to him. Strangers who estranged themselves. Who shut him out first. But me? I was supposed to be the love of his life. He couldn’t be the monster he became so easily around the others. The violence he didn’t struggle to harness for them was impossible with me. We both knew it. He melted, slowly at first but then very suddenly all at once. He fell from his chair, moving around the table at super speed to kneel in front of me. He turned my chair so that he could move close to me. His hands rested on my wrists, and he held my gaze. There was a deep desperation there. Pleading. Very like the look that Caitlyn had given me. “I don’t have your memories. I don’t remember what you did, or do, or how you change through time. I… I can only beg. I will do anything for you, just please let it happen.”

My frown twisted into almost a snarl. Almost. I couldn’t quite bring true bitterness to use against him either, as he could not summon violence against me. We were trapped in our love for each other. In our softness, at the very least. “Why would I do anything you asked me to?”

He searched my eyes, and then sighed with relief when he found it. Found the part of me still fighting to survive. He recognized that I hadn’t completely given up. Completely committed myself to death. What sentient creature didn’t have survival reflexes that fought to extend those last moments? Who didn’t cling to life, even when death was inevitable?

He saw that part of me that fought and he sought to encourage it. “You find love after him. You’re so happy with me. We get married in the place from your dream board. Every dream you had comes true. You have a whole life, Y/n. You have eternity. It feels like eternity for us. It feels like forever. Where I’m from, it’s only been a few years, but I’ve been to the future. I’m a hero because of you. I take Barry’s place. That horrible world that he created for a while, when he leaves everyone behind - I fill it. You help me. We become the new team Flash. It’s… it’s different,” and it’s a plea when he says it. A desperate sell to get me to see the future he does. To want it. To believe in it. To fight for it. Or, more accurately, to not fight because of it. To give up and let it all happen. “But it’s ours. He never loves you. He never will. But I will. I see what he doesn’t. What he won’t. And we’re so much happier than they ever could have been. We’re worth it. We’re worth this.”

I can’t help myself. Even for Savatar, who I want to hate, who I’m going to destroy, I can’t bring myself not to want to reassure him. As I reassured Caitlyn last time, and have reassured Harry and Cisco and Barry and Iris and even Joe. I lean close, and I press a kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter close and he leans into me, hands loosening their death grip as he melts into the affection. The first time I have showed it to him, as I am. A sign that I am capable of becoming the person who loves him. A beacon of hope I’m sure. I kiss him and I hold him when he leans into me and I close my eyes and, worst of all, I lie to him. “I won’t do it. I won’t do anything. I want that future with you. I want to be happy. I want to be loved. I want to be with you.” And it isn’t a complete lie. There are truths there that ring in my voice, making it warmer and filling it with light and hope and joy.

Half lies are so much easier to believe.

And he does believe them.

Savitar leans away from me, a hand rising to push hair behind my ear as he looks into my gaze and sees tears. “Can I kiss you?” He asked this question only once, always seeking out how much affection he’s allowed to show me. Until now, I couldn’t face something like that. The betrayal to Barry that it would be. We barely got to hugging until tonight.

But tonight… I’m going to die for Barry. I’m going to give him the ultimate sacrifice for his happiness. I can be a little selfish. Take a small betrayal for myself.

“Yes,” I whisper. Savitar doesn’t wait to be told again - he just kisses me. He has been waiting for this and I can tell. I’ve been waiting for it too, and that takes me by surprise. This weird in between, where kissing him is the daydream of kissing Barry that I have king craved, but also something completely new and separate and not about Barry at all. The part of me that will always love Barry meets the part of me that finds it easier and easier to love Savitar and I finally understand. They are the same part. I never moved on from Barry to love Savitar. It was new and also the same. Me getting everything I ever wanted and also something completely different. Me holding onto what I’ve been holding onto since day one, but also letting it go too. I didn’t move on from Barry - it was like dating his brother or his best friend. It was unfair to Savitar and even more unfair to me.

This darker me with these far more selfish desires…. It was sickening to think about. How could I have done this?

Now it was clearer than ever that I was going to go with the plan I’d picked. I was sure. I wouldn’t become the person Savitar knew me as. I wouldn’t let that version of me win. Not this time. Not ever.

-

The device wrapped around my wrist, disguised as a bracelet, had a wire attached that ran underneath my long sleeve, up my arm to the power source on my chest. The full body machine had been beautifully effective in making me not only look like Iris West, but being one hundred convincing in proving that I was her. I could smell her perfume, reach up and almost feel the curl on her hair. I would die as Iris West and no one would have time to recognize me, let alone stop me. They’d only have time to mourn me. And with Savatar’s defeat following so close after my own, I doubted they’d have the capacity to do anything other than celebrate.

Just as they always did. Take a moment and then let it go. Continue to be happy and successful, as the friends we’d lost along the way would want. And that was true, I did want them to be happy. I only wished I could have seen it.

Savatar had me in his grip, and I flinched as he gripped me a little too tightly. There was no softness now. No tenderness spared for the person he loved. I was Iris to him now. He wouldn’t realize he had killed the person most precious to him until it was too late.

I felt bad for him. It felt terrible that I was making him do this. That he was choosing to do it. That, perhaps, the forces of the universes drove him to be in such a position that we were all partially guilty. For treating him poorly. For having to kill Iris to survive. To choose between the woman he loved once, and the person he would come to love after. To chose between the man he had once been and the man he was made into after he wasn’t that man anymore. After he stopped being Barry and everyone turned on him.

My eyes closed when his fingers wrapped around my throat, my head tilting back as I felt the sun on my face for the last time.

Barry screamed.

Someone else screamed even louder.

My eyes flew open, recognizing Iris’s voice. She had her blazer opened, revealing the device on her chest. The one I had out there to turn her into me. To make her look like me so that she could hide until it was all over. So she could live.

What in the holy hell was she doing now?

Whatever it was, whatever play she had been trying to make at the last moment to save my life, it had been too late. Savatar flicked his wrist, gripping hard as he began to speed up, letting the speed force take him. He soon slammed to a halt as he processed that Iris was standing so far from him when she was supposed to be in his grip. That she was in two places at once.

Unfortunately for me, he had moved, and in shock he had loosened his grip. Barry didn’t have super strength, neither did Savatar. I ripped from him, going flying as my body rag dolled. I slammed into something solid. A tree? A wall? I couldn’t quite tell, my vision was blurry and spotted and for a second I couldn’t breathe. Everything spun and I was stunned - frozen in a moment of free fall and terror. Iris was supposed to have been zipped away, neck snapped and eyes dead to the world. Everything had gone wrong…

And then it went even worse.

The pain came all at once as my moment frozen in time ended. The agony of my burning body as I groaned while trying to scream. I realized immediately that my leg was broken and there was something wrong with my chest. Maybe a rib broken as well? Definitely a concussion. I blinked my eyes and saw blood around my face. Oh… I had hit something very hard indeed. Several broken things and a head wound. I was horribly injured, but perhaps not mortally.

Savitar was above me, tears streaming down his face. “Why?” He was asking, over and over again. Trying to understand. Failing to do so. I realized that in the process of my injury, the machine hiding who I was had broken. I was exposed as myself now, and all his softness was back. No betrayal. No anger. Just loss. Only mourning.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. And I realized that I had said it every single time he had asked me. A mantra of my own to match his.

He had lost the chance to kill Iris. In running to my side, the time had passed and as he looked down at me we both knew it. Love had won out in the end. But not our love. His love for me maybe, but my love for Barry. Barry’s love for Iris. A cycle of unrequited, unreturned devotion. An unending string of broken hearts.

As the pain took over and I went unconscious, I saw his skin begin to fade away, turning into waves of light and energy. He unwound and spun off into the breeze, and he cried for me and I cried for him and we watched the other fade away as our friends watched the two of us, unsure if or even how to help.

The last thing I saw was him, still asking why, me still answering in echoing apologies, and my friends still watching in horror.

-

I woke up in the infirmary bed that Barry had laid in, in a coma a few years ago now. I woke up to see him sitting in a chair next to me, as I’d sat in a chair next to him. I had been apart of the team building the particle accelerator. I had been a designer. An engineer. I put metal and fabric together with the same fingers, the same methods. Back then I hadn’t been here for the day it all went wrong. I’d moved onto another project, one I’d be kicked from when my name got dragged through the mud and my credibility was demolished. Caitlyn, Wells, and Cisco had welcomed me back with open arms, and though I couldn’t do much in studying Barry, I was a good comfort. Even with him unconscious I’d found myself falling for him in the stories that were told and the things people shared with him while unconscious to get him to respond. To get him to come back. I admired hun through their eyes, and felt their love until he one day was awake and had become my friend and I got to love him in a way that was all my own.

Now it was a bit startling to see him next to me, hand holding mine and completely unconscious. Just as he had found me the first day he had woken up. Dutiful and beside him like a guardian. A watcher, waiting for him to wake him as he waited for me now.

“Barry?” I went to pull my hand away and he stirred immediately, desperately holding onto me as he lifted his head, blinking bleary eyes heavy with sleep. He looked around the room, obviously not expecting the interruption to have come from me. How many times had the others had to drag him from this room? Oh god why did that make my heart do somersaults?

When he realized I was awake he light up. Still tired but far more alert, as it super charged by seeing me awake and seemingly better. I hurt but I could muster a smile and that seemed to be enough. He whispered my name, pressing his lips to my knuckles. “You’re awake,” he mumbled dreamily. Like it was the most important news he had ever gotten.

I couldn’t help it. I blushed. “Yes. I am.”

He chuckled and I watched him as he wiped sleep from his eyes. “Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’ve been doing that a lot, here, in this chair. Gotta be bad for my back.” He tilted his head in an attempt to pop his neck, but didn’t let go of my hand.

“Barry,” I began slowly, eyes narrowing as I tried to make sense of what was happening in front of me. “I’m lost.”

He smiled, as if I had done something rather adorable. These were one of those almost-maybe moments where I thought he might have loved me if things were different. It took me by surprise now, lasting longer than it usually did. His tender admiration didn’t fade or switch out or get embarrassed or distracted and flee. He turned his full attention toward me without hesitation. “I can imagine how… disorienting it would be. To almost die trying to save Iris for me, only to wake up and… it’s all different now.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Different how?”

He grew quiet for a moment, holding my hand and letting his thumb run back and forth across my skin. When he spoke, I found that I hadn’t been breathing the whole time. It was too much but I didn’t dare stop him. I didn’t dare stop him. “When I realized it had been you the whole time. That all this time, I had been watching you die. Not Iris. Or, maybe Iris, but that this time it was you. That somewhere maybe it changed. I saw something else too. I saw her guilt, and found out how long she’d known what you were doing. She didn’t even come that day - Harry did. Disguised as Iris to save you, willing to sacrifice his life for yours. Both of you so brave and amazing. And… I can’t imagine what it would be like to know you were going to die and then seeing an alternative. But, I understood you more than I did her after that. You get me in a way she never will. I sacrifice myself for people too. That’s what being a hero is about. And I am a hero to some people. I try to be a hero as much as I can be. I want to be a person who stands with pride. Not with guilt. And… it made me love you even more. It made me realize that I’ve had these feelings for you for a while.”

I blinked. “That’s impossible.”

Barry laughed, once, startled by my reaction. “You’d have thought. I was sick over Iris…” he shook his head. “But I realized, it was obsession more than love. I was fixated on her. I couldn’t have any other relationships, couldn’t even entertain them. I was trapped by this idea of destiny. The newspaper and Earth 2 and Eobard Thawne and Eddie dying. It was like we had this great destiny. Like I had to be with her. I was expected to be. It was all leading to this. And I realized that a part of it was that it felt useless to try anything else. My future had already been decided. And part of it was that it felt like a prize. For being a hero, and for being patient. For waiting for her. It felt like a reward.” He scowled. “And I realized that’s a super toxic mentality to have. Iris isn’t s prize, or a reward - she’s a person. And I kept treating her like she was only going to be happy if she was with me. That we were two halves of a whole. But she’s a whole person by herself, and she’s capable and worthy of happiness on her own.” He shrugged. “Between that and my love for you, surging in this moment… I just felt like an idiot. I’d spent so much time wasted on a relationship I’d already failed by feeling like I was owed something. I’m not, and it’s different with you. Freer. This happened naturally, and despite everything else. Against all odds. It was given to me, I worked for it. No destiny, no predetermination. Just you and me. No god or fate involved. And I like it better this way.”

My heart surged, and my eyes went wide. “Barry Allen, did you just say you’re in love with me?”

He laughed, this time for a while, and he kissed my hand again. “That was.. a lot, all at once.” He sighed, grabbing my hands between both of his. “I’m sorry, let’s start with something more simple. How are you feeling?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Wonderful.”

He beamed back. “Perfect. Can I kiss you?”

It felt like a dream as I whispered, “Yes.” He kissed me and I thought about when I had kissed Savitar. We had both dodged relationships that were bad for us. He had been obsessed with Iris his entire life, eternally pining and blinded, treating her like so much less than a person. And I had done the same with Savitar. Iris had been an idea to him, as Savitar was a missed opportunity I had seized in a new and different way.

How much better that we lived in the timeline where s’more genuine love won out. That we chose each other and got to be our best selves, instead of pushing for relationships that we wanted no matter the cost. No matter protest or person. This… this was freer. More innocent. Kinder.

“I love you,” I whispered, and I felt no guilt. Only joy. I imagine that the other me must have felt a lot of guilt. But not this me. Not this time. Finally I was free of that.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, and I heard it in his voice too. The freedom. The joy. The love.

How wonderful was that?

-