iluvroadrunner6: ([dctv] barry)
Emily ([personal profile] iluvroadrunner6) wrote in [community profile] fandomweekly2020-09-17 06:48 pm

[#067] Somebody Make Me Feel Alive (The Flash)

Theme Prompt: #067 - Shattered
Title: Somebody Make Me Feel Alive
Fandom: The Flash (DCTV)
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 || SPOILERS for Season 6.
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 992
Summary: Barry and Iris try to reacclimate when Iris returns from the Mirrorverse.
Notes: I just blew through the back half of S6 and wanted some WestAllen.



Iris returns from the Mirrorverse, and it’s hard not to see the change in her.

She’s jittery and twitchy, scratching at her arm as she paces the Cortex. She’s wild-eyed and speaks in riddles like she’s fallen down a rabbit hole to a world Barry would never understand. Kamilla explains that Iris called it neural dissonance, a result of her mind acclimating to the Mirrorverse. It hurts that Iris sacrificed her sanity to get them home.

(He wonders, briefly, if this is what it was like for her when he first came out of the speed force. Another regret to add to the pile of the things he put her through.)

Eventually, Cisco and Nash figure out a fix, and Iris calms some. She’s a little more coherent, and that’s a step in the right direction. It’s not perfect. Sometimes the words don’t feel quite right, or he can see the tension in her shoulders in front of any reflective surface, but she’s trying, Barry, can tell. She’s putting on the right façade, smiling at the right time, and making some witty quips, but he knows her well enough to know that she’s not the same.

Barry comes up to her as things calm down, and she can barely look at him. He doesn’t blame her. Instead, he reaches for her hand gently and gives it a small squeeze. “Want to go home?”

She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she latches on as though she wants never to let go. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

It takes a bit longer than usual. Barry’s speed is still a little dicey, so he takes it a little slower, but soon they reappear in the living room, full of reflective surfaces. His eyes widen for a moment before he reaches over to grab the afghan off the back of the couch.

“Just … gimme a sec.”

He takes off at average speed to the various places in the loft he can think of, tossing blankets, towels, and sheets over all of them, but it isn’t until Barry’s heading back to the living room that he hears a crack that comes with the splintering of shattered glass.

His eyes immediately widened, and as he darts into the entryway, he sees Iris in front of one of the nearby free-standing mirrors that faced over the couch. She’s repeatedly slamming her fist into the glass, leading to pieces of the mirror falling in jagged fragments around her. Tears stream down her cheeks as she does, and her hands are bleeding more and more with each blow.

Horrified, Barry reaches forward to try and interrupt her. “Iris! Iris, stop.”

His hand lands on her arm, and she snaps away from him in response. “How could you not know!? When Ramsey took you, I knew that it wasn’t you instantly. How did you not know that was me?” Barry doesn’t respond, and Iris takes his silence for complicity, and she pounds one bloody fist into his shirt. “Five weeks, Barry! I was in there for five weeks!”

“I know.” His voice is soft, taking each punch in turn until eventually, the anger sags, and she tearfully collapses into his chest, and he can wrap his arms around her. He closes his eyes, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I know, Iris. I’m so sorry.”

Barry lets her cry, before pulling back gently. “Let me see your hands.” Iris lets him, opening the fists to show the small, bloody cuts. “None of them look too deep. We can probably patch them up here.”

“There’s still a first aid kit in the bathroom, right?”

Barry nods, before taking a step back and giving her room to join him. “Mind the glass.”

Iris carefully steps over the remaining pieces before following him to the bathroom, where he’s haphazardly thrown a towel over the mirror over the sink. Barry guides her in, sitting her on the edge of the tub before going to grab the first aid kit. Iris keeps her eyes on her hands.

“This is all my fault.”

“What?” Barry’s head snaps around in surprise. “Iris, no. This is not your fault.”

“I got in over my head. I was so focused on Carver that I didn’t think.”

“You couldn’t have known that his crazy wife was stuck in a mirror and going to kidnap you into the Mirrorverse.” Barry places the first aid kit on the sink before moving to sit on the tub next to her. “Let me see your hands.”

She obliges, letting them curl open with a wince. “I don’t know. Given what we live through in Central City day in and day out, it shouldn’t be that surprising.”

“Maybe. But it’s not all on you. I should have realized it wasn’t you way sooner than I did. All the signs were there. I didn’t want to see them.”

“She was me, Bar.”

Barry snorts. “Yeah, except for the fact that she made delicious pancakes.” Iris sputters out a laugh. It doesn’t sound one hundred percent happy, but it’s enough of a victory that Barry can’t help but smile. “See? Cecile didn’t believe me, but you understand.”

“Guess there were some perks.”

“Not a perk.” Barry shakes his head as he finishes wrapping one of her hands. “I would rather eat terrible pancakes for the rest of my life, so long as it’s you.”

“Well, good, because that’s what you signed up for, babe.” Iris waits until he finishes wrapping the second hand before looking around. “It’s good to be home. I don’t blame you; you know that, right?”

“I know.” Barry smiles as he leans in to kiss her. “I’ll go clean up the glass and order a couple of pizzas. You clean up, and we’ll spend tonight here. Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that,” Iris nods, before leaning in to kiss him softly. “I love you, Barry.”

“I love you too, Iris. Always.”


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