lost

request sneak-peak: "...this would be super depressing but maybe —?— could happen, maybe (y/n) and write from Barry's indirect view..."

playlist:how will i know by sam smithmarvins room by drakethinkin bout you by frank oceansilence (feat. khalid) by marshmellotoo good at goodbyes by sam smith

Warning: mature language and contentthird personword count: 8,2452:33 pm | reliving every moment is torture

Roses were always your favorite. There was much to be admired by them. So beautiful, crimson red with the brightest stems, until you touched her. Then, she'd prick you with her thorns and betray the beauty she held in her petals. She was such a bitch, but your favorite nonetheless.

Barry was sitting in the grass, holding a fresh bouquet of roses in his lap. He turned them over in his hands, and the plastic covering around them crinkled under his touch. He smiled down at them. They were red and bright, just how you liked them. A bouquet held twelve flowers, and he put the first one down in the ground beside him.

"I have someone that I want you to meet. You remember the really cute nerdy scientist I've been telling you about since we met?" An excited voice said behind you. You looked up from your desk, a plate of noodles in front of you. You narrowed your eyes at Iris West, who was squealing a little in her heels. You shook your head, the noodles in your mouth now.

"Iris, seriously, I have a deadline to make for this essay, and I really need to eat before I start writing again," you complained. Iris shook her head, grabbing your freehand. You gripped your chopsticks tighter in your other.

"Please, (y/n), it's that guy I've been talking about," Iris pleaded. You groaned, chewing the noodles.

"Even worse! I am not looking particularly presentable," you moaned. Iris disappeared around the corner, and you sighed, turning back to your noodles. You dipped your chopsticks in, putting a good handful into your mouth. Suddenly, you heard muffled, frustrated whispers getting louder. Before you knew it, Iris had shoved a tall guy into your view and she was standing behind him grinning proudly.

"(y/n)! This is Mr. Barry Allen," Iris introduced you. "Barry, this is (y/n)."

You sucked in a stray noodle, swallowing quickly. Barry looked absolutely lovely that day. He was wearing a long-sleeved button up and jeans, his hair a little disheveled but not unkept. It was not his attire or his height or even his smile that caught your attention. It was his green eyes, glowing a hazel in the bright afternoon sun. You dropped your chopsticks on your desk, standing up, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

"H-Hi," you stammered. Barry's dazzling smile grew, and you managed a small smile in return. It was a few long moments before you realized he was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands. "A-Are those for me?"

"Oh! O-Oh, right, yes," Barry chuckled nervously. He stepped closer to you to hand you the flowers, and you took them gratefully. You buried your nose into some of the petals, smiling appreciatively.

"Roses, how'd you know?" You asked. Barry glanced back to where Iris stood, but she was gone. The two of you just smiled, and Barry chuckled again.

"Uh, Iris mentioned something about it," he replied. "And I hope you like the color. S-She never mentioned what color."

"They're beautiful," you assured him, setting them down on the desk. Barry's nervous butterflies began to calm in his stomach, and he just stood there a bit oddly, smiling stupidly at you.

"Iris has told me so much about you," Barry broke the silence, sitting down in the seat across from you. You sat down yourself, blushing a little as you focused on the flowers. You played with the petals, petting the softness.

"I really hope she hasn't embarrassed me already," you giggled. Barry spun slowly in the chair, moving his head from side-to-side.

"Mmm, somewhat."

"What?" You gasped, your eyes shooting up to meet his. Barry grinned. "Oh, God, what has she said?"

"You really wanna know?"

"Desperately."

"How about dinner, and I'll tell you something you want to know?"

You blushed, looking down at the flowers. "Is that a deal, Barry Allen?"

Barry leaned over the desk, shrugging his shoulders. "Deals can be negotiated," he chuckled. You raised an eyebrow, looking at him in thought.

"What if I want to know more?" You asked. Barry pondered the question, looking up at the ceiling. He pursed his lips.

"That's gonna cost you...dinner and a movie," he decided. You bit your lip, and Barry liked the look on you.

"And if I want to know everything?"

"I guess we'll have to wait and see."

Barry moved his free hand between the blades of grass, his fingers picking up pieces as he went. He let them fall back onto the ground, back to the earth. He smiled at the memory, shaking his head. The air was so cool around him, but he didn't mind. The only thing he was thinking about was you, and how gorgeous you looked in every light you stood in. Even in the dark.

Barry reached for another rose. The bouquet held eleven flowers until he put the second one down beside the first.

Your palms were starting to feel sweaty, and you let out a shaky breath. You pressed your back harder against the trunk of the tree, almost hard enough to scrape your skin against the roughness of its bark. You gripped the weapon in your hands tighter, careful not to let it slip through the moisture of your skin. Your heart pounded.

"Got you!" A voice yelled. You screamed as a stream of ice cold water hit you straight in the chest. You moved out of the way, trying to shield yourself with your arms, but it was no use. You were covered in freezing cold water now, panting hard as you tried to get your heart to beat at a normal pace. You sunk to your knees in the grass, pretending to wave a white flag.

"I give up," you moaned, shivering as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Barry was standing there with a grin on his face, twirling the neon green and orange water gun in his hand. Your teeth began to chatter, and you gave him a jealous glare at his triumph. He was always too fast.

"Awww, (y/n), don't look so sour," Barry teased, pouting mockingly. You shook your head, continuing to shiver as you hugged your knees to your chest. You gripped the water gun still.

"Y-You're a ch-cheater, B-Barry Allen," you stuttered, looking up at him with sad eyes. Barry's heart melted at the sight, and he crouched down to your level. He sat beside you on the ground, shrugging off his flannel. Your cheeks burned a bright red as he draped it around your shoulders.

"Don't look at me like that," Barry sighed, biting his lip with guilt. You looked down. You wanted to smile at how adorable he looked. You were enjoying it. "I'm sorry."

You raised your eyes, gripping the water gun and ready to fire. But now Barry was looking down at you thoughtfully, and he was leaning in. You let out another shaky breath this time, but it was different. Barry Allen was so close to you, so close you could practically feel the softness of his kiss against you. You shivered still, but Barry knew exactly how to make you warm again.

Barry kissed you soft, his eyes shutting slowly. You shut your eyes too, savoring the taste of cotton candy on his mouth. You two were two hours deep in streetside candy, and you couldn't be more thankful now. He tasted like sugar and love, sweet and decadent. You giggled between kisses, the embrace making your heart tingle despite the coolness of your skin.

You opened your eyes, pulling away hesitantly. Barry was licking his lips as his own eyes fluttered open. You were lost in the emerald of his eyes, drinking in the color. He looked so handsome, so incredibly handsome especially up close.

"T-That was sweet," Barry chuckled, still feeling the cold bliss of your kiss on his mouth. He wanted to lift a finger and feel it, but he knew it would look so silly. Instead, he just decided to vividly remember the moment, the moment he fell hard in love for such a woman. You smiled, tilting your head to the side.

"Revenge is sweeter," you replied softly. Barry frowned in confusion, his smile fading in perplexity. A shot of cold water flew out from your water gun, hitting Barry straight in the face. The water dribbled in a long stream down his face, wetting the front of his shirt. His hair was now flat against his chest in water, and his mouth was hanging open in disbelief. You took your finger off the trigger, biting your lip. Barry spit out a little, the water continuing to trickle down his chin.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now," Barry said in a light tone, a smile forming on his face. You let out a shriek of surprise as he lunged for you, tackling you onto the grass. You let out giggles as you and Barry rolled around in the green, the afternoon sun suddenly hot on your skin. You stopped rolling until you were on top of Barry, looking down at him as your hair shaded his face. You breathed out as you lowered yourself onto your elbows, your lips brushing against his daringly.

"What am I gonna do with you, Barry Allen?" You breathed, bringing one hand up to caress his cheek. Barry closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them he laughed a little. You rubbed his cheek with your thumb.

"You can start by kissing me again."

"Oh, really?"

"Well, yeah. Isn't that what couples do with each other?"

Your heart fluttered. "Couples?"

Barry pushed you down onto your back, your face suddenly lit up in a golden sunlight. Your head was surrounded by daises now, the flowers framing your face beautifully. Barry laid on his side now, holding his head up with his hand. He moved your chin to face him, and he nodded his head. "You heard me. Couples."

"W-We're a couple?"

Barry took your hand in his free one, holding it to his mouth as he began to kiss your knuckles one by one. You watched carefully and in awe as he tangled your fingers together. "Of course we are. Unless you've changed your mind about me or you're seeing someone else or—"

"Shut up, Barry," you breathed, leaning up to kiss him again. The thought of being with anyone else felt so incredibly wrong. No one made you feel like Barry Allen did. No one made you feel so light on your feet, no one made you feel so young.

No one made you feel so lost, lost in a world of complete bliss.

Barry laid down in the grass now. The day was cold, the sun refused to make an appearance. He let the softness of the ground pillow his head. There were no daisies in the grass, and there was no golden sunlight to brighten the day. Instead, Barry stared up at a sky full of clouds. The air threatened the rain, but it was peaceful nonetheless.

Barry shut his eyes to breathe, his breath coming out sputtery. You were on his mind, and it pulled at his heart in all the best ways and in all the worst ways. Barry, with his eyes closed, picked another rose out of the bouquet of ten. He set the flower down beside the others.

Cisco reached for Barry's tie, adjusting it. Barry swatted his hands away, sending a glare. Cisco groaned, adjusting his own.

"What? I'm just trying to help you out," Cisco grumbled. Barry leaned against the car, watching the door of your apartment building. The night was the opening of Oliver Queen's new club Verdant, and the drive to Starling City would be long. You were told to come dressed and with a packed bag, where Oliver Queen had complimentary hotel rooms set up for Team Flash, plus you. Cisco and Barry were impatiently waiting for you, whom they had texted ten minutes before.

Barry and Cisco began to argue again about the ties as Cisco reached for Barry's collar again. They were a bickering mess of friends before they heard the doors open to your building. Both turned to look, and both swallowed hard.

"Holy mother of God," Cisco breathed. Barry hit him hard in the stomach, but Cisco didn't mind too much.

Barry noticed your legs first. So long and lean, accentuated by the platform heels. Then it was the curves of your figure, hugged beautifully in a navy blue dress. It was short and elegantly sparkly, with criss-cross straps. Then Barry saw the glittering of your skin, practically glowing in the sunlight. Your dress left little to the imagination, and both Barry and Cisco had to compose themselves quickly as you approached the car.

"Hey, guys," you greeted them sweetly, unaware of the effect of your outfit. Barry suddenly felt religious, and he wanted to thank whatever sweet Lord sat in the clouds for sending you.

"H-Hey, (y/n)," Cisco giggled, wiggling his fingers at you. Barry hit him in the stomach again, and you covered your mouth to stop from laughing. Cisco offered to take your bag, and he left the two of you as he opened the trunk of the car.

"You look...God, you look absolutely beautiful," Barry stuttered, his words coming out in a rush. You let your curls fall behind your shoulders, and Barry's mouth watered a little at the sight. You leaned in to kiss him, your hands going around his neck. Barry didn't hesitate to caress your waist with his hands, holding you close as he returned the gesture. He could not believe he was kissing you, he could not believe that he got to call you his girlfriend. You made him feel so unworthy.

"You look very handsome, Barry," you said as you pulled away. Barry looked down at you lovingly, shaking his head. He kissed you again, short and sweet. You bit your lip when you looked up at him, and he noticed the sparkling in your eyes.

"I don't deserve you," he said suddenly. You tilted your head and gripped the edges of his collar, laughing a little.

"What are you talking about, Barry?" You asked.

"There's so much you don't know," he whispered, barely audible. You shook your head, confused.

"Barry, you aren't making any sense," you breathed. "You're scaring me a little."

"I-I'm sorry," Barry apologized. He didn't want you to be nervous or afraid.

"Barry, is something wrong?"

"It can wait. I don't want to ruin tonight," Barry assured you. "Not when you look so damn perfect."

That smile was back, and Barry was relieved. That damn smile. That damn smile that made him fall in love first.

Barry was grinning himself, his eyes wide against the dullness of the clouds now. He was smiling, and he reached his hand up suddenly. The clouds were growing darker, and Barry could feel the atmosphere moisten against his fingers. A few drops of rain fell onto the hard surface of his nails, and he brought his hand back down to wipe it against the front of his shirt.

There were pictures of you in his head, movies playing on repeat. You were smiling in every one, warm against his touch and so lovely in every light. Barry, careful not to prick his finger, picked another rose out of the bouquet of nine. He set it down in the grass.

"Barry Allen needs to get his head in the damn game and crack this damn case if Flash sure as hell won't do it," a stern voice said. It echoed across the halls.

"What?"

"All I know is, Flash doesn't keep criminals in jail, evidence does."

You looked up from Barry's desk. You were sat beside his laptop, you had moved some of his case files to the side to sit. Barry and Detective West were walking in when you looked up, and you smiled. Neither of them had noticed you really, too deep in their own conversation. You had to clear your throat.

"(y/n)," Barry breathed. You smiled a little wider.

"Hi, Barry, Detective" you greeted them. Barry let out a breath. He was so happy to see you. A long day of being a hero and doing his actual job was behind him, and he felt like he hadn't slept in days. Your smile brought him back to life a little.

"I'm so...glad to see you, what are you doing here?" He asked. You reached out your hand, shaking Detective West's hand. He smiled at you before looking at Barry.

"Uh, I just thought I would come by and say hello. I just thought you could use some company," you replied. Detective West grimaced a little.

"I'm glad. Maybe you can talk some sense into him," he remarked. You gave him a confused expression, crossing your arms over your chest.

"About what?"

"Well, Barry here thinks Flash can finish the job. But Flash isn't going to keep these guys in jail, we need solid evidence. Which might I remind you, Barry, is what is written on the paychecks you get every month," Detective West informed you. You turned to look at Barry, and he was blushing a little. "I gotta get going on this case, and you, Barry, start analyzing that evidence before I have to force it out of you. And by the way, (y/n), call me Joe. Please."

Joe gave you a strained wave as he left the lab. When he was gone, Barry was a little sheepish to meet your gaze. You rolled your eyes.

"Barry, really? Now I have to scold you, like a little kid?" You whined. Barry shook his head, chuckling.

"No, no, really, I can do it. I can finish things pretty quickly up here," he assured you. You watched as he came closer to you, biting his lip as he moved his knee to separate your legs. Barry stepped between them, and you let out a scoff as his arms came around your waist.

"You have a big ego, Barry Allen," you laughed. He slid you closer to him, so your stomach was against his. You raised your hands to caress his forearms, biting your lip.

"Maybe. Or maybe it's because the whole way up I heard whispers about a certain woman invading my lab," he replied. You sucked in your breath. You were a little embarrassed; people were talking about you?

"What?"

"Oh yeah. 'Rockin' body,' and 'cute jeans,' came up quite a bit, especially when I heard that lady was in my lab," Barry replied, his tone a little bitter. You could feel the hot energy radiating off of him already. Innocent jealousy and sweet protectiveness all at once. You smiled knowingly.

"Is that right?" You wondered innocently. You raised your hands up the sleeves of his shirt, around his neck. "All those whispers, all about me?"

"Mmm," Barry agreed reluctantly. You pulled his neck down to kiss him, and Barry shut his eyes. You pulled away slow, letting the love linger between the two of you. "You know, I don't think making out in my lab is the part of the job description."

"Oh, no? Well, maybe if we get caught, the whole precinct can hear about it," you said. Your voice was laced in a sensual tone, teasing and slow. Barry licked his lips, preparing to kiss those perfect lips of yours again. "Everyone can know that the girl in the, what was it now? Rocking body and jeans? Mmm, well everyone can know that the rocking body and jeans belong to me, and that I belong to a Mr. Barry Allen, Central City's finest forensic scientist."

"No one will believe that. They call me Mr. Impossible here for a reason."

"Really? Well, like Joe says, all bark and no bite. Gotta get the evidence."

"And how am I gonna get evidence of this?"

"Maybe if I scream your name loud enough, they'll believe me."

Barry's eyes went wide, and you giggled.

"What? Is that too much?" You wondered, smoothing down the collar of his shirt. Barry coughed a little in disbelief, eagerly waiting to kiss you again. You looked up at him. "What is it, Barry? Are you too afraid of the whole department hearing me?"

"N-No. I'm counting on it."

Barry was laughing now. He was laughing to himself, holding the bouquet of roses closer to his chest. For a moment, the clouds parted and sunlight came through. It warmed him for a few moments, and it reminded Barry of your kisses. Because when you were kissing Barry, it was like a warmth was moving throughout his body, stinging him with something so good. It reminded him of how he felt when he was running, so light and free, so charged and undone.

Your laugh was always a sweet sound in his head. But there were times when you were unhappy, there were memories of you when you weren't smiling. They weren't always bad memories, but sometimes they were good at scratching the surface of his heart. Barry hated it when you didn't smile. But relationships are not always smooth. Love was a bitch and love was not forgiving, and if the relationship wasn't hard then it wasn't love. Barry took three roses into his hand this time, his bouquet now only holding five. The sprinkles of rain were now droplets against his skin. The flowers fell beside the rest.

You were shivering. You were cold, and you were hurt, and you felt so stupid. You had been stood up too many times, forgotten more nights than remembered, and you were tired of feeling like someone's side-girl, like someone's second choice. It hurt even more to feel like Barry Allen's second choice; you were never say it now, but you were in love with him. To feel second to someone you cared about so much was a hurt worse than anything else.

You stood up from the sidewalk, in front of your favorite Chinese take-out restaurant. It was a small store on the corner of your new block, but was your favorite nonetheless. You had lived on the block for only about two weeks, and it was already becoming your beckoning call for dinner. Barry and you had decided for what felt like the hundredth time to eat there together that night. And for the hundredth time, Barry had yet to show his face. You hoped he wouldn't; you weren't sure how his pretty eyes would look against your knuckles.

You hadn't brought a coat. You should've; you hated how stupid you were. You expected him to come on time, even though he had stood you up for many nights now, and so you forgot your jacket on one of the coldest nights of the month. It was about forty degrees outside, and it wasn't getting any warmer. Your teeth were chattering, your hopes were drained, and your eyes were stinging with the tears you were begging to stay inside.

"Before you scream, before you yell at me, I-I just want to say how sorry I am," a shaky voice said behind you. You felt a rage inside of you that you didn't even know you had. You turned, your fingers clenching into fists.

"B-Barry Allen, if you g-give me one more shit e-excuse, I am walking away, a-and I am n-not c-coming back," you uttered, shaking your head. He had tears in his eyes. He was about to address the issue, but he noticed you shaking in the cold. He came towards you, his arms coming around you as he hugged you to his chest. If you weren't so cold, you would've pushed him away so quickly. Instead, you let yourself melt into his grasp. "T-This does not mean I f-forgive you."

"I know, (y/n)," Barry whispered, shrugging his jacket off. You were about to protest, but he draped it around you, encasing you in warmth and silencing your words. You hugged it to your body, and Barry kissed your head lovingly. It felt so good to be loved by him again, so good to be held. But you were not stupid, and you were not naïve, and the conversation would wait no longer.

"B-Barry, I'm not going to let you lie your way out of this," you said softly. Barry nodded his head, kissing your head again, kissing it repeatedly.

"I know, I know," he said between kisses. You shut your eyes, letting him kiss you soft. You were lost for a minute in his embrace, but a shiver of wind creeping underneath his jacket brought you back. You tugged him with you as you began to walk.

"This can't wait, Barry."

It was a silent walk all the way to your fairly new apartment. You were a little shy about the messiness of the place, but the tension between you and Barry was harsh enough that it didn't matter. You shut the door behind Barry, letting the loud noise threaten Barry's emotions for a second. Barry refused to be the first to talk.

"Barry, choose your words very carefully. Because if another lie comes out of that damn mouth of yours, you better hope that kicking you out of this apartment is all that I do to you," you said seriously. Barry swallowed hard, your tone scaring him a bit. He didn't want to hurt you again. He didn't want to lie to you. But he wanted to keep his secret in the dark from you, he never wanted you to get hurt because of him.

"I love you," Barry whispered. You sucked in your breath, your tears finally falling down the hotness of your cheeks. You let out a bitter laugh.

"As much as I want to appreciate the words, Barry, I can't. I won't. Don't sweet-talk me, tell me the truth before I make you leave."

Barry reached over and took your hands in his, bringing them to his lips to kiss them. You ripped them away from him suddenly, and he squeezed his eyes shut in a painful show of defeat.

"I really do love you," he croaked. You laughed again, using his jacket to wipe your tears. More kept coming.

"It doesn't matter, Barry. None of that matters if you keep lying to me. If you keep leaving me in the dark, if you don't tell me where you go at night. Are you cheating on me? A-Are you seeing someone else? Are you doing shit under the radar that you don't want anyone to find out? God, I will take any excuse, any except the stupid ones you give me every time you leave me sitting on the goddamn sidewalk like-like a school girl!" You cried. Your tears were hot and fast coming down your face. "I'm an adult, Barry! Whatever you say, I can handle it! Just tell me the truth!"

"I'm...I—"

"You're what?" You breathed. Barry looked around your apartment. He moved away from you, stepping into the center of what would be your living room. Stacks of cardboard boxes were scattered around the apartment, only the essentials had been unpacked. You were becoming impatient and weary, tired of yelling and sick of fighting. Why couldn't love just be simple?

"How long?" Barry asked softly.

"What?"

"H-How long do you think it will take you t-to finish unpacking?"

You frowned. The impatience was growing, the anger rising. "I...I don't know. A few weeks, a month? What does that have to do with anything, w-why does that matter?"

Just as fast as you finished your sentence, Barry was gone. All you felt was the rush of wind, all you saw was flashing red and yellow lights. The room was suddenly hot, the air around you was suddenly dense and battered. After a few seconds, your apartment was unpacked and tidy. The floors were clean, the dust was picked up, and you were staring at the candles already lit on the coffee table. The pictures were hung, the plates were put away, and even your crystal china was set up on the dining room table. You let out a gasp, your breath caught in your throat.

You turned, and Barry was standing there, his eyes still watery and a single, beautiful, red-hot rose in his hand. The thorns were gone, and he was holding it out for you, his hands shaking a little. He was so scared, so nervous, so afraid of how you would react. You took the rose, twirling it between your fingers. You stared down at it as if it held all the answers. The dots were connecting in your head, the nights alone were becoming revealed.

Barry Allen was Central City's hero, and you were the woman on his arm.

"Please say something," Barry whispered. You looked up, finding the green in his eyes, the green you always wanted to sink into, the green that made you feel safe. The rose was as red as the lightning in his eyes now.

"I..." you began. Barry waited, patiently, sweetly. "I love you, too."

When you first told Barry that you loved him, he thought he hadn't heard you properly. The night had been filled with arguing, the cold, with anger. Barry had been encased in his regret and in his guilt, in his pity for the beautiful girl that waited in the freezing cold for him to come home to her. He did not deserve you, and he did not deserve your forgiveness. But love him you did, and forgive him you did, and Barry thanked every star in the sky for your good heart every night for it.

The rain was evident now. It was piling against his jacket now, but it wasn't pouring. It was just lightly sprinkling, wetting Barry's cheeks. You were always so understanding. It didn't matter who Barry came to you as; whether he was Barry Allen and blurting out formulas and rambling about evidence or he was Flash and running your world wild, you always knew how to make him feel okay again. If there was one thing in Barry's life that was always constant, that he could always count on, it was you at the end of the line in every race in every timeline.

Two roses were picked out of the bouquet of five. They tumbled onto the grass, beside the rest. Barry was sure he had been pricked by a thorn by now, but nothing hurt more than the emptiness he constantly felt in his stomach.

You never felt comfortable in S.T.A.R. Labs. Only brilliant minds and steady hands and the ultimate stock in technology and its advancements dwelled there, and you didn't fit in any of those categories. Although you wanted to be a part of everything Barry was doing, although you wanted to support him in every aspect of his life, you just felt like a burden there.

You couldn't help them accumulate new ideas, you couldn't help anyone medically, and often times you just found yourself standing in the corner and watching. It was torture. You preferred to stay at home. But now, you were called into S.T.A.R. Labs. Although you might not have gotten a degree in math or science, although you couldn't build a computer for the life of you, there was one thing you understood better than anyone: Barry Allen.

Nobody knew Barry like you did, nobody could get through to Barry like you could, and nobody loved Barry like you did. You were the love of his life, and the sparkling ring on your left hand only materialized it.

"Oh, (y/n), thank God, you're here," a voice breathed. You emerged in the Cortex, rubbing your arms in the cold. The coolness seemed to radiate off the metal walls, but the warmth in Dr. Snow's smile made you feel a little better.

"Hey. What'd you need me for? Please don't tell me Barry got hurt again," you sighed. Caitlin shook her head.

"No, no, he's okay. I mean, it'll take him a few hours to be completely okay, but he'll be okay," Caitlin assured you. You breathed a sigh of relief. Caitlin bit her lip as she looked at you. You raised an eyebrow.

"But there's something more you needed me for. And I'm guessing it has to do with convincing Barry," you concluded. Caitlin gave you a strained smile.

"It's not a good idea. It's not, and Barry is crazy," Caitlin groaned. You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Tell me about it," you offered. "What's the deal? What happened?"

"Barry wants to go to the future. He wants to see something, needs to learn something. I don't know. I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why would he want to do that? Aren't there consequences to this...time travel thing?"

"Exactly."

You pursed your lips, looking down at your feet. "And what makes you think I can do something about it? Isn't this a science thing?"

"(y/n), I know you feel out of place here. But this isn't about...biochemistry or physics or anything of the sort. This is about thinking clearly, and no one knows more about thinking clearly than you," Caitlin assured you. You smiled a little, and she nodded her head towards the medical bay. You let out a breath before you walked. You knocked on the glass a little. Barry was holding a pack of ice to his head, and you smiled sadly at him as you met his gaze.

"Oh, God, they brought you in now?" Barry grumbled. You rolled your eyes, making your way towards him. You shooed his hand away to hold the ice to his head, stepping between his legs. Barry let you, leaning back on his hands. "What are they gonna have you say to me? Is it scripted?"

"Stop being such such a brat, Barry," you said gently, raising your other hand to hold his chin. Barry grimaced, and you leaned forward and kissed him. Barry closed his eyes at the feeling.

"Bribing me, then?" He wondered. You shook your head.

"No. I heard about what an airhead you are out on the street, and I decided to come and remind you to stop getting your ass kicked," you replied matter-of-factly. Barry was the one to roll his eyes now.

"I didn't need you to come down to tell me that," Barry argued. He leaned in for another kiss. "But I'll never be disappointed to see you here. I miss you."

"Barry, what's this they're telling me about you going to the future?"

"Here we go..."

"No, really, Barry. I remember what you told me about the last time you time traveled. How you made another timeline, how you—"

"How I found you, how I met you again, how I fell in love with you again," Barry interrupted. You looked up at him. You lowered the ice onto the bench, shaking your head slowly.

"Barry, that's not what this is about," you explained. Barry scoffed.

"But isn't it?"

You paused, letting out a sigh. Barry anticipated your answer. "Barry, when you came back, things were different. You said so yourself. What if you come back, and something changes? People are not supposed to have this ability, okay? This isn't normal, people don't travel in time to fix their mistakes or to find out what will happen."

"But I can! I have the ability to do that, so why shouldn't I?"

"Because, Barry! Because you're playing with fire when you do," you argued. Barry looked away, but you pulled his chin to look at you. "Don't you dare turn away from me, Barry."

"I can't. I can't listen to you talk about this like you know anything about it."

You scoffed. "Seriously, Barry? I may not be a genius, but time travel isn't a mystery, the concept isn't hard. You are not God, Barry, and you don't get to decide when things happen. People die, things happen, tables are turned, but we don't go back and change it just because it didn't go our way," you breathed. "That's life, Barry. Shit happens. Bad shit happens, but we pick up our heads, and we go forward."

"I can stop that from happening. I can stop things from happening before they even start."

"Barry, that's not your job! You don't get to play with our lives like that, you don't get to do that! You don't get to change things when you feel like it. It's not right," you told him. Barry grimaced. "No, you listen to me, Barry, and you listen real good, okay? You have an incredible gift, no? You were given this incredible gift to run, and what are you gonna do with it? You're gonna...change the course of history? You're gonna go back and what? Maybe stop the second world war?"

"No, (y/n), I'm not—"

"You're gonna stop the civil war? Are you gonna stop the robbery downtown before they even get inside?"

"Maybe—"

"No, Barry, you're not. You're not going to do any of that. And you know why? Because things happen for a reason. And when you start messing with that, Barry, that's when karma comes and bites you in the ass. You're a good person, Barry. You have a good heart. Don't use it to change things, use it to make them better."

Barry kissed you suddenly, overcome with emotion. He hated when you were right, and he hated when you could convince him. But he loved you, he loved you too much to argue anymore. He loved you too much to say no.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. You caressed his cheeks.

"For what?"

"For trying to play God."

"You don't have to apologize for being that way," you assured him.

"Being what way?"

"For being human, Barry."

Barry was sometimes too human, he thought. He sometimes thought he cared too much about other people, that he loved everyone but himself, that he put everyone before him. But then you came along. You came along, who cared about him more than anyone else and loved him more than you loved yourself and put him before anyone else. Where there was emptiness, you filled it. Where there was quietness, you brought life.

Barry gripped the three roses in his hand tight. The rain was coming down now, wetting his jacket more. He let two roses trickle beside the rest, fall to the earth. He hoped the rain would hide the wetness gathering in his eyes.

The sunlight was too bright. But the atmosphere was nice. Quiet, calm, comfortable. The sunlight made it warm, but it hurt your eyes as you turned over in bed. When you finally opened them, you were staring at Barry who was curled against the duvet and underneath the covers.

You realized you were wearing barely anything, curled up in your undergarments and Barry's dress shirt. You giggled a little, and Barry's lips curled into a smile. He wasn't asleep.

"Good morning," you said softly. Barry turned his head to look at you, and you let out a breath at the sight of his eyes. So hazel and green, so sparkly.

"Good morning," he replied. You rolled over to scoot into his side, and he gladly pulled you towards him. He kissed you slow. "Mmm, this is the best way to wake up."

"Is it, Barry?" You laughed. He nodded his head, biting his lip as he looked down at you.

"I don't deserve you," Barry admitted. You snuggled closer.

"You say that a lot," you observed.

"Because it's true."

You looked up at him, smiling. "Barry, you go out everyday and put yourself on the line for people you don't know. If there's anything you deserve, it's to be happy. Do I not make you happy?" You teased. Barry shook his head.

"No, no, no, you...you make me so happy," he assured you. You smiled as he kissed you again. When you raised your hand to caress his cheeks, the coolness of the ring on your finger made him relax even softer in your grip. "You're mine."

You turned your hand over, biting your lip as you let the ring sparkle in the morning sun. The diamond was cut so beautifully; it sparkled every time you turned it over, it glimmered in every light. Barry caught you staring too long, picking up your hand in his and kissing the ring soft.

"It looks so good on you," Barry chuckled. You were still new to the feeling, to being promised to someone for the rest of your life. It should've scared you. Your whole life, the marriage talk scared the hell out of you. But looking at Barry, staring intently into the serenity of his green eyes, you weren't afraid. You could never be afraid.

"You look good on me," you joked, making Barry laugh. He put his fingers delicately underneath your chin, licking his lips as he looked down at you. His eyes darted back and forth between your precious lips and your glittering eyes. You were such a sight in the morning, wrapped up in his clothes, smelling of love and happiness.

"You think so?" Barry played along. You nodded, and Barry moved to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you so you were pressed against his bare chest. You swallowed, suddenly feeling hot everywhere. "We're engaged, (y/n). Aren't we supposed to incredibly happy?"

"Undeniably excited," you added. Barry bent his head to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss onto the skin of your neck. You moaned a little, wrapping your arms around his neck at the feeling. Barry laughed.

"Not able to stop each other from this," Barry whispered, his hands slipping underneath the looseness of his shirt around you. "Not able to keep apart from each other."

"Are you sure you can even handle any more after last night, Barry?"

Barry laughed again. "Are you kidding me, (y/n)? Do you realize who I am?"

"A horrible tease," you replied, your breath becoming shaky as his hands moved down your thighs. Barry nodded a little in agreement.

"Maybe. But that's not what I meant," he hummed. "I happen to have incredible stamina."

"Oh, yeah? You think so?"

"I know so," Barry scoffed. You kissed him, so gently and sensual.

"Well, then, Flash, looks like you gotta get me to the finish line."

"All you gotta do is countdown, baby."

Nothing could compare to how Barry felt. If he closed his eyes hard enough, he could still see the curves of your body. If he thought for a long while, he could still remember how silky soft your skin was against him. If he concentrated, he could still smell the lavender of your lotion, the coconut in your shampoo. The little things that he sometimes forgot to take note of were all he had left of you now, and he could barely remember them. Barry cursed himself for not loving the sweet, little parts of you enough.

Before Barry knew it, the rain was coming down hard. But he didn't mind. It hid the tears that were sliding down his flushed cheeks. He blinked to try and rid himself of them, but they just kept coming. Hot and bothered down his face, his hazel eyes surrounded by a strained red. Barry gripped the last rose tight before he opened up his palm, letting it fall onto the earth beside him.

His hands were empty now.

Barry held your hand in his, his heart almost in his throat. It felt as if he couldn't breathe. There was a strain in his chest, a pulling in his heart, a coldness that shot through the core of his body. He squeezed your hand now, not even realizing the stream of tears leaving his eyes now.

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Barry cried, caressing your body close to his. The crimson that dripped from your side was hidden against the red of Barry's suit. You were choking a little now, trying to get oxygen into your lungs. Your body was too busy trying to flow air through the rest of you that it was forgetting to breathe. Your heart was pumping blood so fast, your brain not comprehending the chaos. "Shit! (y/n), stay with me. Stay with me, okay?"

You nodded your head, but the pain in your side was excruciating. You choked a little, and you turned your head, spitting out onto the pavement. There was blood not the ground beside you, and you let out a shriek of fear. You were bleeding internally now. The blood was coming too fast, the air was becoming too scarce. You were scared.

"I-I'm scared, Barry," you whispered, and Barry held you so gingerly. He let out shaky breaths.

"I'm so sorry," Barry repeated. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"D-Don't," you stuttered. You tried to catch a breath. "Don't apologize."

"This is all my fault. This is my fault. I'm so sorry," Barry choked, his forehead against yours. You were starting to see white, but it was coming onto you slow. You reached a shaking hand up, caressing his face, relaxing in his grip.

"Such...such a good heart," you whispered, kissing him softly. Barry could taste the saltiness of his tears, but he kissed you nonetheless. He pulled away. He was afraid. He was dying himself, the light in his heart fading. "Don't...don't lose it, Barry."

"Stop talking like that," Barry urged. "You're gonna be okay. Y-You're gonna be okay."

"Shhh," you shushed him. You managed a small smile, the white becoming just a bit brighter. "I-It's okay, Barry. You're gonna be...okay."

"No, stop! Stop talking like that," Barry protested. "Stay with me, okay? Stay awake for me."

"I love you, Barry Allen," you laughed a little, the pain in your side fading a little. Barry panted as he shut his eyes. "Such...such a good heart."

"I love you more," Barry gave in. He was crying calm now, his breath shaky as he let silent tears dribble down his chin. "I love you...God, I love you. You deserved so much better."

You let your head fall loose in his arms. You could still see the glimmer of your ring in the moonlight, a glittering rainbow. Colors of dedication, a band of promises, a gift of someone's life. You held it all in one hand. You didn't want to take it with you.

"No, Barry," you wheezed a little, breathing slow. Barry let out a whimper, kissing you again. "Just wish we had a little more time."

"I-I can fix that..."

"No...no, Barry," you whispered. "You aren't God."

"You can't leave me."

"Such a good heart," you breathed. Barry shook his head.

"(y/n), don't go. Stay with me."

"Such a good heart, Barry..."

"(y/n), I can't do this without you."

"Such a good heart..."

There it was again. That emptiness, that hollowness. It was a feeling of loneliness, a feeling of longing. If there ever was a heartbreak that hurt Barry the most, it was when you were gone. Barry had lost his mother, Barry had lost his father, and he had lost you. How much more heartache could the universe throw at him before he would just collapse? How much emptiness can a person take before they just shrivel up into themselves and disappear?

Barry forced himself to remember you in the sunlight again. With daises around your hair, the sun in your eyes, a smile playing on your lips, a ring on your finger, a laugh in your voice. Barry reached his hand out, his fingers shaking as they ran over the stone in the earth. He felt the letters of your name, the cool surface of the marble. He was too afraid to look, too scared to read, too timid to believe it.

When Barry turned his head, the twelve roses were scattered around the marble, petals wet and red and beautiful against the green of the grass. The only thing that kept Barry going was your voice. The only thing that kept Barry from caving into himself was your words, the only thing you left behind. You were always in his ear, always kissing him encouragement, always hugging him goodnight. He may have laid by himself, but he was never alone. He may have walked the streets by himself, but he was still with you.

Barry had loved you more than he had loved himself. In every timeline, in every remnant, in every other earth, in every other circumstance, there was a wall between you and Barry that was always going to get knocked down. Always a path that led to each other, always a journey that ended in the same place. Barry smiled to himself; he knew somewhere, in some other earth, in some other time, in another place, you and Barry were together and happy and in love. Maybe it was just fate; maybe, for some odd and unfortunate reason, your Barry just had to live wondering what could've been, what should've been, what might've been.

Barry had a feeling he knew exactly what you'd say, if you were sitting right beside him, if you were whispering in his ear.

"That's life, Barry. Shit happens. Bad shit happens, but we pick up our heads, and we go forward."

Damn, I am so sorry. That took me so long to write, but it was honestly really fun to get creative. Please leave me some love. I'm really proud of this one. It was definitely sad, but I'm so glad I got to explore my writing. Tell me what you thought, vote and comment, leave some love. .

Love, B