crimson_graces | open post 2017

[seven years.

its been seven years, and yet somehow, he's still here. still alive, in the loosest sense of the word. forced to make his way through life with a piece of his soul missing. without a drive there to have him do anything more than make it through each day. he has no goal, nothing to be heading towards. all possibility of a future died along with her, and there's nothing he can do to change that.

(they were meant to get married. to settle down. to have children, grandchildren, a family. they were meant to grow old together--)

he's in the time vault when the alarm sounds. the cortex may not be the hub of activity that it once was, but there's enough running in the background to keep him informed of any changes within the grounds of the lab. he may not be the flash anymore, but that doesn't mean he's prepared to ignore whatever this newest interruption is.

but despite how immediate the threat could very well be, he still takes the time to shut down gideon first. to lock away those memories, at least for the time being. they aren't ones he wants to share with anybody else. ones that he has to keep covered up until his own weakness sets in and he has to give in. again.

one last look at the now sealed wall of the time vault, and barry speeds off to the basement. to the anomaly forming. to the--

breach?]

[The last thing she remembers is Savitar's cold hand on her shoulder and Barry's agonized no! and there's pain and a roaring in her ears and that's it.

That's all there is.

Then it's just the storm and the roaring takes over until she can't even hear herself think. She doesn't know if she can think or if this is what death is really like. If It's actually loud and chaotic and there are no pearly gates nor is there fire and brimstone. It's cold and dark and grey. That's all there is. She doesn't see anyone else, not her Grandmother Esther or Eddie or Ronnie or even her mother. Death is lonely and enough to drive someone mad if that's even possible.

(one of you will suffer a fate worse than death)

Then she's shoved out, stumbling to her knees with a soft cry. Doesn't know where she is or how she got there but the roaring has stopped, the storm has subsided and she can breathe for the first time in what feels like forever. It's so wonderful that all she can do is kneel there and enjoy it, in and out, in and out. And she may startle like a feral cat if someone were to approach her at the moment. Hopefully he still heals quick.]

[time seems to slow right down around him. one moment he's staring at the swirling vortex that has never meant anything good before, the next, there's a body falling through and barry forgets how to move. how to breathe. her face is one that haunts both his dreams and nightmares. memories of a happier time, a better time, overlaid with those of the single worst day of his life. of the time that he'd paid the ultimate price for being too slow.]

...Iris...

[her name escapes on an exhale, barely audible above his own breathing. above hers. but even as he staggers towards her, even as he drops to his knees beside her, he can't force himself to touch. to destroy the illusion he knows he has to have brought on himself.

(she's wearing the same thing she wore that night. she looks exactly the same. this isn't real. this isn't real--)]

This isn't real. You're seeing things. [the words break, breath hitching as he tries to hold back the tears burning his eyes already. his hands come up to grip the back of his head, fingers digging in to his hair in an attempt to will away the images. this isn't the first time he's had a nightmare like this. but it's certainly the first time its been this vivid.]

[She startles like she expects it to be Savitar at her side. That is, with a shriek and throwing her hands out like she's going to shove him him away or punch him or suddenly be able to defeat evil speedsters in metal suits with just her hands. But instead of cold metal she latches on to warm flesh and the fact that whoever it is, is mortal makes her grip even harder.

He's real. He feels real. He's not Savitar. She's not in the storm anymore. She doesn't think she's bleeding out from a horrible stab wound to the heart but for a long time what she thought and what she felt and what she saw were never the same thing.]

Please. [She digs her fingers in like claws, hard enough to bruise, because if she lets go then she might leave again. It's then that she realizes who she's got in a death grip. The hair looks different, his shoulders are bowed in a way she's never seen, but she knows Barry Allen better than anyone on the planet and it feels like him.]

Barry?

[he scrambles to escape, wrenching himself away from her as he backs himself up. tries to put some space between them, regardless of her grip. he needs the distance. needs the chance to try and force the hallucination away. to bury it alongside those memories of a happier time. thinking about iris is never going to stop hurting. so having his mind play games on him like this--]

Just stop it, stop it, stop it.

[despite knowing that this isn't real, he can't bring himself to look away from her. to miss a moment of whatever this is. it's more than a photograph, more than a distant memory being relived. this is a version of iris that he hasn't imagined before. he's relived the night of her death, of course. more times than he can recall. but she isn't a bloodstained corpse. isn't the love of his life breathing her dying.

none of this is making sense, and he has no idea what he's even meant to be doing right now. what he can do other than stare blankly back at a ghost of his past.]

[Too bad. She's got him in a death grip and she really might die for real this time if he gets free. He can't leave because she's been alone for so long that she feels as crazed and desperate as he looks. God what happened to him? How long has she been gone? Is she even on her own earth?]

Barry. [Iris shakes him a little. Like she's trying to prove something to him. She's here, she's real, she's not dying. Maybe she's trying to prove that to herself too.]

It's me. It's just me.

[he knows he should shake her off. that he should be putting distance between himself and this hallucination. and yet he finds himself doing the exact opposite, body slumping forward so he can rest against her. can wrap his arms round a body who he'd last held as it'd bled out. as she'd died in his arms--

a choking sound escapes him as he gives up the fight. as he end up with his face buried against her neck, tears falling freely as he holds on to her with a level of desperation that he hasn't shown in years. it's a bad idea, the worst idea, to let himself fall victim to this. but with no one around to bear witness to it, he can't help but give in to his own weakness.]

I'm sorry. [for not being able to hold it together long enough to walk away from this moment. for not being quick enough. for failing her. it was his job to keep her safe. to find a way to stop savitar. he didn't deserve her, deserve her trust. not when he destroyed it all so easily.]

open post 2017

welcome to the future...

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