A couple of years ago, as I was taking advantage of my Paramount+ subscription to rewatch All The Star Trek Ever, I had an epiphany:
The Star Trek universe has been experiencing timeline alterations since the very first time-travel episode in TOS Season 1.
The Doylist explanation, of course, is that they were still working out the vague details of their Generic Space Opera Setting, but from a Watsonian perspective, the now-familiar elements of what we now think of as "the Star Trek Universe" don't really start settling in until after "Tomorrow is Yesterday" (Season 1, Episode 19). Immediately after, in fact: I think that the very next episode, "Court Martial" (S1 E20), is the first time we hear the term "Starfleet" used to describe the uniformed service under which Kirk's Enterprise operated. Previous episodes bandied about terms like "Star Service", "Spacefleet Command", "Space Central", and everyone's favorite, the "United Earth Space Probe Agency". The first mention of the "Prime Directive" comes in "The Return of the Archons" (S1 E21), and I don't think we hear about the "Federation" until "A Taste of Armageddon" (S1 E23).
Even with all these key pieces on the table, though, there are still some peculiarities. Starfleet is sometimes referred to with the definite article, and isn't quite a compound noun yet: "The Star Fleet". There are a few other odd quirks that I noted at the time but don't quite recall right now, but ultimately, it's not until after "The City on the Edge of Forever" (S1 E28) -- another time travel episode, and one that definitely left some butterfly effects on the timeline -- that things start to feel like the Star Trek setting that we all know and love -- making it a milestone in more ways than one.
Doylisticly, of course, a big part of that is that there was only one more S1 episode after "City", and then they had a production break of several months to finally pull all of these ad hoc script elements into a coherent, largely consistent setting.
The fact that so many of these defining elements show up shortly after time travel episodes is just a bonus for the Watsons out there.
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Flash (TV 2014)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Iris West & Nora West-Allen, Iris West & Wally West, Francine West & Iris West, Barry Allen/Iris West
Characters: Iris West, Wally West, Nora West-Allen, Barry Allen, Francine West (discussion of)
Additional Tags: Iris's Flashpoint damage, still salty, Timeline changes, discussion of time travel, Flashpoint - Freeform, baby Nora, Wally is a good uncle, Wally is still around, mourning over timeline changes, you cannot convince me they weren't supposed to have the Tornado Twins, tornado twins - Freeform, the timeline is malleable, discussion of Francine, emotional with a tender ending, introspection of how Iris is different post-Flashpoint
Series: Part 2 of Iris Week 2020
Summary:
Iris Week 2020 Day 2! Family Relationships.
“Do you ever get the feeling,” Iris says one very dark and very early morning, as she cradles Nora in the crook of her arm, waiting for the microwave, “that things just aren’t…right?”
Iris considers the choices pre-Flashpoint Iris made about Francine. Iris wonders whether she and Barry have been were supposed to have the Tornado Twins.
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For the tumblr readers, here’s the full text!
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“Do you ever get the feeling,” Iris says one very dark and very early morning, as she cradles Nora in the crook of her arm, waiting for the microwave, “that things just aren’t…right?”
Her brother has a bottle of formula in his hands, and every so often Iris will see tiny flickers of his yellow lightning come off his fingers. Wally seems to be trying to learn to heat up the baby’s bottle with speed alone, an obstacle that even Barry has not yet conquered.
Iris tries to ignore the crazy men in her life and bounces to keep Nora calm, watching the formula spin through the microwave window.
Barry is out, away on a small project with Kara and Kate involving the relocation of a group of alien refugees. Not sleeping, Iris called Wally up and he sailed in to keep her company during the long night, interrupted only by the wailing of her newborn.
“Like, Cult of Domesticity not right?” Wally asks, raising an eyebrow.
Iris pshaws him. Her life is everything she’d ever dreamed, full to bursting with loved ones and meaningful work. Yeah, it’s stressful, but…but nothing. It’s her life, and she loves it. Somebody has to keep saving the world, and she’s glad it’s them.
But there are just moments, like now, in the wee hours with the two people most genetically similar to her in the world, that it just feels…wrong.
“More like…regret,” Iris says thoughtfully.
Wally nods quietly. She startles at the microwave beep; within a blink, Wally is offering the tested formula to Nora. Iris hands her over, and Nora immediately snuggles into her uncle. Electricity passes between them, and she stops fussing as soon as Wally puts the nipple in her mouth.
Iris tells Wally about when she first started getting to know Nora. The adult Nora. About her feelings of motherly inadequacy. About when Nora rewound the same hour over and over and eventually Iris just sensed that she was bending time.
“Do you think the timeline changed?” Wally asks. “And that’s what you’re feeling?”
It’s crazy. Iris knows it’s crazy. That so many new moms feel just like she’s feeling. Thinking obsessively about her own mom and whether she’s good enough. Maybe she should just tell Caitlin she’s out of it and see whether this is actually post-partum depression.
But she hasn’t. She called Wally, who ran across the world to sit with her in the middle of the night.
“I think something used to be different,” Iris whispers. “Before Flashpoint. Maybe before Thawne killed Barry’s mom. I think we used to be different.”
“You and me?” Wally says, surprised. “Like, before Flashpoint-”
“I think it has something to do with Francine,” Iris says desperately. And this is it; this is why she called her brother when her husband is away; this is something she never wants to speak to her father about. “I don’t – I don’t think it happened the same way before. And it makes me worry-”
“About what else could have changed,” Wally says seriously, nuzzling the baby.
Iris still hasn’t forgiven her father for hiding the fact that her mother was alive for over twenty years. She’s not sure she ever will. Just because they’re close, because she loves him, because he’s a part of her daily life and her family, doesn’t mean she can forget.
Iris met her once.
Iris was not there when she died.
(Wally was, all alone. And Iris thinks that this isn’t right, because just sometimes she gets a glimmer of grief too intense to be real, too accessible to be applicable to her own experience.)
“What if I did something better?” Iris holds out her arms for Nora. Nora makes an offended face at parting from Wally’s warm, speed-force generating body, but coos happily when she recognizes Iris’s arms, the scent of her hair. Iris might not be able to share meta powers with her baby, but she’s definitely Nora’s favorite. (She’d better be, too. Iris is not over how hard it was to carry a speedster baby.)
“What if I was a better daughter before the timeline changed, and now I don’t know about it and I’m not gonna be as good a mom as Nora deserves?” The volume of her voice drops until Iris is barely audible at all.
Wally is quiet for long seconds. “Have you spoken to Barry about this? You saw the future, you’re a great mom.”
Iris shakes her head. “We told him we didn’t want to know. It – it’s not us, not really, he created a whole new timeline and then jumped into it-”
“It’s complicated,” Wally interrupts, cutting her off. “Speedsters travel in time differently than the Legends do, they can’t revisit their own timelines but that’s pretty much all we do, press the reset button, and-”
“And the more time travel you do, the less it makes sense,” Iris sighs.
“And even though you haven’t time traveled, I’m pretty sure you’re getting a sensitivity for it,” Wally says. “If you think that’s what you’re feeling, I believe you.”
“Sometimes I feel like I was there when she died,” Iris says, tears escaping. “But I wasn’t. What if she was, the other Iris? Didn’t this you deserve to have me there?”
“Iris, we don’t know what else could’ve changed in the timeline. You’re always doing your best for your family.” But Wally looks pinched and uncomfortable. “I…definitely did not want to be there alone. But there’s nothing we can do to make that better. Not now.”
Iris nods. She settles by the window to wait, and cuddles close the one thing she can make better.
.
A crackle of electricity. The timeline is malleable. The heavy, painful weight of her own overfull belly. “We’re gonna need more diapers.” A cry.
Barry returns to find Iris cradling Nora in their bed, tears dripping into the pillowcase.
“Do you remember what happened to Sara Diggle?” Her words are a croak.
Barry stiffens immediately. (Of course he remembers.)
“I think we used to have another baby, Barry,” Iris whispers.
At least you still have one.
“I don’t know if it – was Flashpoint, or the Reverse-Flash, twenty years ago, but – sometimes I just think, this isn’t right. Tell me I’m not – tell me I’m not crazy, Barry,” Iris breathes.
Barry vibrates out of his suit silently and drops the ring on the floor. He hesitates for a moment, then settles on the bed opposite her. Their bodies make a heart shape with Nora, blessedly sleeping, in the middle.
“I can’t go to the future anymore, Iris,” Barry finally says, his voice gravelly. “I don’t know. What we’re supposed to have. What we might’ve had if I made – better choices. If the Reverse-Flash hadn’t…created a new timeline to punish a Flash he’s never going to see again. If we’re living in the ripple effect from someone else’s Flashpoint right now. I don’t know if we were supposed to have another kid.” He’s getting choked up.
“It’s not like Cisco’s ever vibed another timeline while he’s bouncing her,” Iris admits, self-deprecating.
“That doesn’t mean we didn’t have a different family. The speed force is – so big, and so complicated. You might be really, really right.” Barry looks away from her and puts his finger into Nora’s incredibly small hand. Her tiny brown fingers reflexively close into a fist. Not for the first time, Iris’s feelings of chronal – whatever the Legends call it – are swept away by her love for her daughter. She’s just so beautiful.
“We can’t keep waiting for the newspapers to come true,” Iris agrees. “What’s done is done. The timelines will never be the same. We have to…keep living our lives in the now.” And try to live with their mistakes.
Barry, still holding Nora’s hand, looks into Iris’s face for the first time since returning home.
“I’m not ruling out another baby in the future,” he says carefully, watching her expression. “But you, and me, and our Nora here together? I think this now is the best place I’ve ever been.”
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | ???
((I gave up trying to write more in the training scenes for now. Maybe when I get to those sections in the editing bit where I post it on AO3 I’ll add another scene or two in there. For now, it’s better that I just keep moving.))
Ichigo knocked on the frame of the sliding door to Kaito’s room again, leaning close to see if he could hear movement in the room. “Is Kaito-san usually a heavy sleeper?” he asked Yoruichi, when he didn’t hear anything through the door.
“No,” Yoruichi said, before pacing forward and poking his paw at the edge of the door frame. The door wriggled, slid open a crack, and then slowly opened further as Yoruichi pried it open. “Wait here,” Yoruichi told them, as he squeezed through the gap and into Kaito’s room.
Ichigo exchanged uncomfortable looks with the other teens; they /hadn’t/ been given permission to enter, after all, but Yoruichi had said /no/, but what if something had /happened/ while the rest of them had been asleep?
Orihime edged closer, shot him a challenging look, then peered through the gap—
Her shoulder slammed into Ichigo’s side, forcing him to stumble backwards and giving her room to shove the door open and bolt into Kaito’s room. “Oh no!”
Chad caught him before he could fall and turned back towards the open door, left hand already clenched and reiatsu rising in case he needed to defend them both. But even he faltered at the sight inside, and Ichigo really couldn’t blame his friend; Kaito was huddled in a corner, blades crossed over his lap and hands resting on the hilts, eyes closed and chin resting on his chest. He looked to be asleep sitting upright, but his sleep kimono was stained with bloody patches that looked fresh and wet, and the room smelled of sweat and spilled blood.
(What had he been /doing/ all night?!)
Orihime was on her knees in front of Kaito, wringing her hands and trying to get a response out of their friend by calling his name. But he remained unresponsive, still but for the even rise and fall of his chest.
“What in the wor—” Ishida’s voice cut off abruptly, a hand covering his mouth and eyes widened in shock at the sight. “/Kurosaki!/” he hissed. “Is that—”
“It’s blood,” Chad confirmed grimly.
“He’s bloody /all over/!” Ichigo pulled free of Chad and darted into the room after Orihime, who had fallen to her knees in front of Kaito. “Yoruchi, what the /hell/?!”
Yoruichi turned narrowed eyes upon them. “I thought I told you to remain outside?”
“You seriously think we’d stay out when you didn’t give us a /reason/?” Ishida hissed, baring his teeth at Yoruichi and his right hand flexing as if to call up his bow.
“I /thought/ you would respect his privacy and—”
“Kaito!” Orihime cried, sharp and afraid and louder than any of her previous attempts.
Kaito /jerked/ back to awareness, head snapping up and eyes darting about, pupils blown wide. “Wha—”
“You’re bleeding!” Orihime exclaimed as she shifted a bit closer and called her healing shield into existence.
Except… Orihime’s worry, her /fear/, seemed to confuse Kaito more than anything. The man’s brows drew together and his lips pursed, and it was only when he looked down at himself that his wounds /finally/ seemed to register.
Chad shifted closer to him, and Ichigo glanced up at his friend.
“We need to be careful,” Chad murmured. When Ishida looked over, expression edged with worry, Chad clarified, “I’ve seen that look before. Those wounds… he doesn’t care. They don’t even register to him.”
Ishida drew in a sharp breath, jaw flexing, before he looked away from the two of them and back to Kaito. “He’s seen too much death,” Ishida whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. “He told me that, once.”
“And probably been hurt even more,” Chad agreed.
There was a disturbing amount of sense in that, not that Ichigo really wanted to consider it.
(How damaged did a person have to be, to stop caring about injuries? To stop caring that he went to bed healthy and woke up /wounded/?)
(How did that even /work/?)
Kaito cleared his throat, trying for a nonchalant tone as he said, “It’s nothing to worry about—”
“Nothing to worry about?” Orihime glared until Kaito raised his hands in a placating gesture. “You’re bleeding and you consider this /nothing to worry about/?”
Ichigo scanned Kaito carefully, trying to piece together why the man would consider this ‘nothing to worry about’.
“Something he does regularly?” Ishida murmured thoughtfully, glancing briefly at Ichigo before focusing on Kaito again. “Training?”
“To get wounds like that?” Ichigo asked. Not that he could actually see most of the wounds, only the bloody patches that were scattered across Kaito’s sleep kimono. It was possible that they were shallow wounds, the sort that bled a lot but weren’t otherwise a problem, but the fact still remained that Kaito had /gotten them overnight/.
Kaito’s smile was bright and cheerful, and Ichigo narrowed his eyes further at the sight.
(If it was a mask, he couldn’t see through it. That… scared him.)
(How many other smiles that Kaito gave were a mask?)
“Let me explain before you keep jumping to conclusions?” Kaito asked them, gaze shifting between each of them. “I was practicing jinzen, which is an advanced method of communicating with my zanpakutou. It brings the inner and outer worlds into a closer sync than usual, which means that injuries I sustained in combat in my inner world appeared on my physical body.”
Ichigo suppressed a wince at the information. /He/ was a Shinigami, technically. Did that mean..? “All Shinigami do this?”
“Yes,” Kaito agreed with a fond pat of the white blade’s hilt. “A soul with a zanpakutou needs to remain on good terms with their blade. A zanpakutou is more than just a weapon, after all. It’s a part of /me/, an extension of myself that I rely upon to see me through combat. I’m not /helpless/ without my blades, but I am certainly lesser.”
Zanpakutou were that important to Shinigami? Ichigo narrowed his eyes and /looked/ at Kaito, at the way he had his hands resting on the hilts of his blades, the way his fingers traced absent patterns over the metal, the way he was so /comfortable/ with them. He had thought it was just a result of Kaito having the blades for so long, but… a part of his soul…
(What did that mean, to a Shinigami born as one? Kaito spoke of communication, but Ichigo had never heard anything from his blade, had he..?)
(Except in the Shattered Shaft.)
(Was /that/ what Kaito was talking about?)
(Could he… talk with that spirit he’d met? How did one /do/ that?)
“There, all better!” Inoue sat back on her heels and let her shield fall away, her face taking on a stern expression. “And if you ever do that again, I want you to tell me so that I can heal you.”
Confusion flickered across Kaito’s expression before he covered it with a smile. “I usually ask Tsukabishi-san, or relax in the healing spring in the training ground, but if you’re around, of course I will.” The /look/ he gave Orihime as he said that… Ichigo couldn’t quantify it.
At his side, Ishida took a sharp breath, shoulders rigid and body tense, his focus on Kaito.
“Ishida?” Ichigo murmured, as they all backed up at Kaito’s gesture, giving the man room to stand.
Ishida shook his head. “Later,” he told Ichigo. “He—”
Kaito /swayed/, nearly falling, and all of them jerked forward in response. Orihime, by dint of being closest, hovered with her hands poised to catch Kaito if he /did/ fall, concern on her face as Kaito rubbed at his thigh.
“I’m fine,” Kaito tried to reassure them, a grimace of discomfort on his face. “My legs are just a bit numb.”
Which… made sense. If Kaito had remained in that cross-legged position all night, tucked away in the corner and unmoving, then it stood to reason that his legs would protest moving.
(That he had /done that/ said even more.)
(How much did it hurt, being back here? Enough that Kaito would prefer /this/ over sleep?)
Kaito’s look sent them retreating again, and the man stepped out of the corner, stretching as he did. His motions sent the fabric draped over his shoulders fluttering, and Ichigo stared at it for a moment. It seemed… familiar.
/Very/ familiar.
“Are you… wearing Hat’n’Clog’s coat?” Ichigo asked incredulously, watching the sway and flutter of the dark fabric and the tell-tale white diamonds decorating the bottom edge. Why the /hell/ was Kaito wearing /that/?
Kaito’s mischievous smile gave Ichigo a bad feeling, as did the way he slipping his arms through the sleeves and settled the haori properly across his shoulders. Bloodstains aside, he looked… he looked…
Kaito stepped around Ichigo while he was still trying to process the sight, and bent to scoop up something else. At his side, Ishida gave a strangled /whine/ as Kaito settled a /very familiar/ — if color-shifted — hat atop his head and briefly flicked open the — also color-shifted — fan.
He winked, playful and happy and clearly having /fun/. “Just a final bit of disguise is all!”
A quiet /’click’/ noise caught Ichigo’s attention, and he tore his gaze away from the sight of /Hat’n’Clogs junior/ to see… Yoruichi with a camera? The cat looked /smug/ as he pressed the button with a paw, triggering the camera again. His tail twitched happily, and when he met Ichigo’s gaze there was honest /happiness/ there.
Ichigo looked back at Kaito, at the way the man stood, the unfeigned mischief and cheer on his expression, clearly mimicking his father. A father he’d only just met a few months ago.
(What was it like, to love so deeply? To clearly /enjoy/ the chance at mimicry?)
(Ichigo could understand why Yoruichi was taking those pictures.)
“Disguise?!” Ishida exclaimed, horrified. “That’s not a disguise! That’s you looking like a copy of Urahara-san!”
“Ara, ara, no need to be so offended by that,” Kaito said, pouting at them and fidgeting with his fan.
“I thought you wanted to hide!” Ishida continued in frustration, before turning to Ichigo and nearly begging, “Kurosaki! Talk some damn sense into him!”
Ichigo arched an eyebrow at Ishida; what in the /world/ did Ishida think /he/ could do about this? In resignation, Ishida sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.
Kaito’s laughter drew their attention away from each other; he had a hand on the brim of his hat, the fan tucked away out of sight, and for a moment Ichigo thought it was /Hat’n’Clogs/ standing in front of them.
(This is what he would fight for. This laughter, this /joy/. For Kaito to smile so freely without Ichigo needing to wonder if it was a mask.)
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