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Subtle (Part 3)

Word Count: 16.3K+ Rating: T Catch up here, here, or here Summary: Barry and Iris's pasts cause problems for both of them, but a small moment together provides a little solace.

Part 3: Shattered (Can You Put Me Back Together?)

The tension in the parked car could be cut with a knife. Barry, whose gaze had been fixed on the people walking past his window, cut a quick glance over his shoulder to look at his girlfriend sitting in the driver's seat. A strand of her blonde hair had fallen in front of her eyes, but she made no attempt to brush it away. Her lips were pursed in a thin line and her eyes were narrowed as they stared sullenly out the front windshield. Despite the fact that the car had been turned off for the last ten minutes, her hands remained on the steering wheel that groaned under her palms from how tightly she was squeezing it. It was clear she was furious, and that fury, as evasive as she was attempting to make it appear, was clearly aimed directly at him, which was a conclusion that was confirmed when he reached out his hand to grab her right wrist, only for her to yank it out of his grasp before placing her hand back on the wheel.

“Look, I know that you're angry and upset with me, Patty. We should talk about it instead of just letting it fester.” Barry knew that he could probably have put more inflection in his voice, but the night had been a bust from the moment that he had left the apartment. More than anything, he just wanted to get things sorted out between him and Patty so he could go home and crash in his bed.

“’Angry’, Barry,” Patty snarled, enunciating his name sharply through gritted teeth, “was what I was earlier this week when you blew off our date for the second time in a two weeks. ‘Upset’ was what I was when I practically had to drag you to my friend’s art exhibit just to spend some time with you. What I am right now far exceeds either of those emotions!”

Wincing at the volume that her voice reached toward the end of her rant, Barry leaned back into his chair and folded his hands in his lap with the knowledge that any future attempts to touch her would undoubtedly be rebuffed.

“Look, I'm sorry that I made you so mad back at the exhibit. I didn't mean to offend your friend when I said his painting looked like it was done by a kid,” he started off and then winced when he saw her lips purse into an even thinner line. He was unintentionally making things worse, and he wasn't quite sure how he could make things better, so he figured he would try humor. “In my defense, the painting literally had stick figures on it, like the ones I used to draw when I was in elementary school. If I had known the painting was done by a grown man, I would have kept my mouth shut.” He smiled at her profile in an attempt to lighten the mood but she refused to look his way.

Patty scoffed and rolled her eyes. “If being an uncultured jackass was your only offense tonight, I could have forgiven you easily, but you know that's not what I'm mad about.”

Barry scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. “Um, okay… but in my defense-”

“Enough, 'in my defense', Barry!” she snapped back at him, the heat of her words wiping the playful smirk off his lips. “Do you even know how humiliating it was for me to introduce you to my friends, who I've been bragging to about you to for the past three months, only for you to basically freak out in front of them when it was suggested that you and I should be a bit more committed to one another?”

“That's not fair. I never said that I didn’t want to be committed. I just said that it was a little too early for you and me to be talking about moving in together since we’ve only been together three months,” Barry argued, unable to contain his own defensiveness. Her accusations, much like the ones her friends had made at the exhibit, made him feel like he was being backed into a corner. “Besides, it was your friend, Andre, who brought it up, like it was his business to know where or whom I live with. I don't need people I don’t even know judging me for the choices I make in my life.”

Patty snickered bitterly. “Have you ever considered how weird it is for me to tell people that my boyfriend lives in an apartment with two other women, one of whom is his ex-girlfriend?” She finally raised a hand and wiped away the strand of hair from her eyes, but the execution was done with more force than needed which made the hair to fall right back in front of her face. It once again went ignored. “I can tell you, right now, that ninety-nine percent of the time, the first question that comes out of their mouths when I tell them this is: 'Aren't you nervous that your boyfriend is living with his ex-girlfriend?' And frankly, I don't really know how to respond to that question anymore.”

“How about, 'I trust my boyfriend enough to know that he would never cheat on me'?” he offered indignantly. “Because, frankly, if my girlfriend is being asked a question like that, I would really hope that she would have the decency to defend me to people who would question my honor, and I would hope that she would have my back, especially when I've done nothing to make her question my loyalty or commitment to her.”

A long silence filled the car, thickening the already tense atmosphere. Barry once again turned toward the window and folded his arms across his chest. He was tempted to just get out and end what was already quite the failure of a night, but the last thing he wanted was for the air not to be cleared between them.

“You know, nearly everyone at the precinct thought that I was crazy when news got around that you and I were seeing each other,” she said, breaking the silence. Her tone was flat, veering toward grave, like she was trying to hold back the emotions she was feeling. “Chyre actually pulled me aside and asked me if I knew what I was getting myself into.”

Barry forced himself to remain silent despite how incensed he became at the fact that she was bringing up his free-for-all past relationships again and also for bringing in her partner, Fred Chyre. It felt like a low blow, especially from someone who knew how badly he wanted to be removed from his womanizing past. Despite the plethora of angry words that came pushing to the tip of his tongue, he kept his lips closed.

“I knew what I was doing when I asked you – the handsome CSI with the sweet smile that was capable of drawing in nearly every girl in town – out on a date. You were smart, good looking, easy going, charming, not to mention a science geek like me. You had a reputation and a past, yes, but I knew deep down that if you and I could just spend time together that I could make a monogamous man out of you. So despite everyone warning me away from you, I knew who and what you were and I still put my heart on the line for you.

“I’d really like to think that that risk paid off. The past three months with you have been everything I could have ever hoped for. You've been a wonderful and caring boyfriend – everything that I’ve ever wanted you to be.”

Barry raised his right hand and buried it in his already disheveled mop of auburn hair as he slowly turned his head and gazed, once more, at her profile. “If that's the case, then why are we even having this conversation?”

It was at this point that Patty finally turned her head and gazed at him with tears sparkling in her eyes. “Because I've come to see you as something more than just a boyfriend, Barry. I've come to see you as the man that I want to share a future with, and after tonight, and the past few weeks to be honest, I'm starting to realize that you and I are nowhere near being on the same page.”

Barry was set on trying to defend himself in the matter of not being on the same page as her, but his focus kept reverting to what she had said before that.

“What do you mean, 'the past few weeks’?” he asked her, his brow furrowed.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” She looked at him incredulously, her blue eyes wide and slightly crazed with anger. “You’ve practically been nonexistent for nearly a month, now!”

Barry’s could feel that his eyebrows were dangerously close to disappearing into his hairline as he balked at his girlfriend. He felt like he had been blindsided. The accusation made little to no sense.

“Where is that even coming from?” It was his turn to give her the incredulous look. “I've seen you every day since you and I have started dating, including every day of the past few weeks, and we’ve practically had lunch together every day. I know that I canceled a date or two, but I’m pretty sure that’s a big leap to ‘nonexistent.’”

Patty rolled her wet eyes toward the ceiling of the car and scoffed. “Just because you and I see each other all the time doesn't mean that you're really there. Yes, you see me at work and you smile, peck me on the lips or cheek, and eat lunch beside me, but there's no passion or heat anymore. It's like you're just going through the motions with me – just doing something to keep me drawn in and happy. But the only time that I really see any real spark of excitement in your eyes is when you are on your way to the bus to head home or when you're meeting with Bette to drive home with her. Not once in the past two weeks have you shown anything remotely close to that excitement when it comes to me. The closest I’ve gotten to getting that kind of passion from you was tonight, and that was only when you were telling my friends that you were against moving in with me despite the fact that you and I are suppose to be in a committed relationship.”

“Patty-”

“I'm not finished!” she barked, her eyes narrowing as she glared heatedly at him. “I have adored every moment that I've had with you since we started dating, but I refuse to be one of those jealous girlfriends who is suspicious of everything and everyone when we're not together, but lately that’s how I’ve been feeling when it comes to you. I hate feeling insecure about us, but I have this niggling suspicion that there's something or someone in that apartment that means more to you than I do, and I can't shake it no matter how much I may want to because I don't feel like things are the same with you and me.”

Barry stared at his girlfriend with a mixture of disbelief and barely reined in anger. “I have no idea where this is all coming from. First, I thought you were angry because I didn’t think it was the right time to move in together, and now you’re trying to pull this whole new reason to be mad at me by saying that I’ve been distant. Where is all of this coming from? Because three hours ago, I actually thought that we were doing pretty well in our relationship, but now I’ve come to find out that I was completely wrong.”

Patty's eyes softened as they lingered on Barry's face – the anger suddenly gone from her eyes. She gazed at him almost pleadingly as she cleared her throat.

“I never once felt threatened by the fact that you and Bette were living together, not even after I found out that she was your last serious girlfriend in college. And regardless of the fact that she's never particularly warmed up to me, I never once thought I needed to worry when it came to you and her because as close as the two of you are, I never really sensed that passionate spark between the two of you. But there, obviously, had to have been something between the two of you, especially for you to want to keep her in your life even after you two broke up. You had to have cared about her, and the way she's been glowing lately, and the way you've been so eager and excited to go home every day has been noticeable to other people, too, not just me. There have even been rumors going around the precinct that there may be something… more going on between the two of you again.”

Barry stared at her for a long moment, his mouth hanging open. For the life of him, he couldn't quite get himself to spit out what it was he wanted to say. He had the urge to laugh at the ludicrous accusation she had thrown at him, but he knew that would just upset her even more. He was dying to deny her accusation that there was anything romantic going on with Bette, and he would be telling the truth, but he had a feeling if he just said the first thing on his mind, he would exacerbate the contentious air between them. He said the next statement slowly, making sure to choose each word carefully.

“I do love Bette, Patty.” He saw her eyes widen and quickly followed up with further explanation. “She’s been one of my best friends for years, and there’s no way that I wouldn’t love her. The reason I can tell you that so easily is because the love I feel for her is nothing you have to worry about because it’s the kind of love I feel for all of my close friends. That was the main reason why she and I even broke up in college. It was because we realized that we cared for each other more as friends than as anything else.”

Hoping to keep the channel of communication open, he reached out and gently brushed the strand of hair from her face and when she didn’t recoil from him, he cupped her cheek and gazed deeply into her blue eyes.

“You have nothing to worry about from her. Not only am I faithful to you, but Bette feels absolutely nothing romantic toward me because she is in a relationship with Tony, who she cares about more than she ever cared for me.” He could feel Patty’s entire body relax and allowed that to loosen his tongue to voice the first thing that popped into his head. “If anything that's why everyone would think she's glowing – she’s on cloud nine because she’s in love with Tony, and they’re so wrapped around each other that it’s basically expected they’ll be engaged within the next month or as soon as Tony gets up the nerve to ask her.”

As soon as the last sentence left his mouth, Barry bit his lip because he knew that he had just opened up a whole new can of worms just when he was getting the other one shut. Sure enough he looked at Patty just in time to see her eyes widen. Even before her lips parted for her to respond, he knew what she was going to say.

“Bette and Tony have only been dating a few weeks longer than us,” she remarked quietly. “You talk about them getting engaged like it’s a normal thing, and yet you pretty much freaked out when the topic of moving in together was brought up, even though we’ve been together almost as long as they have.”

Barry opened his mouth to interject, but Patty held her hand up to silence him. Instead, her eyes bore into his with the intensity of a woman looking into a crystal ball to see her own future.

“What is going on with us, Barry? Do I not make you as happy as Tony makes Bette? Do you not love me?”

The questions were just as probing as her eyes, which seemed to be searching for signs of something he wasn’t sure they would ever find with him. They were pleading for him to give her a bone, an affirmation of something that as much as he wanted to provide it for her, did not feel right to give. To say what she wanted to hear was not something he was ready for.

Barry rubbed at the back of his head as every single one of his nerves suddenly became filled with a million tiny shocks of lightning that made his entire body feel fidgety and restless. Every second that he didn't answer only seemed to make the situation even more awkward, but no matter how many times he opened his mouth to respond, nothing came out. The way that Patty’s eyes fell and the way her entire demeanor seemed to deflate made him feel like throwing himself into the massive chasm he could feel stretching between him and her, and yet he still could not speak. Even if he could say anything remotely comforting to her, he knew it would not be what she really wanted to hear.

Patty released a heavy sigh and bowed her head. She began to rub her brow as she closed her eyes in an attempt to fight the tears that were building in her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?” she murmured.

Barry squeezed his eyes shut and groaned internally. He really needed this night to be over already.

“...And with Abra Kadabra defeated and the city safe once more, the hero returned to his home, weary but victorious, ready to prepare for a new day and the new adventures that would come with it.”

Iris delivered the final line of the story just before a large yawn took hold of her. She looked over to the other occupant of the double bed and huffed when she discovered that he was fast asleep and looked to have been that way for a while based on the small puddle of drool collecting on the pillow next to his open mouth. Even though making him go to sleep had been the sole purpose of her telling the story, she could not help but feel a little miffed that he had most likely missed the exciting climax that she had been putting together in her head all day. It was frustrating to have put in so much effort only for him to have fallen asleep halfway through.

Rolling her eyes, she slowly rose from the bed in reluctant acceptance of the fact that she would be receiving no verbal accolades from the sole listener of her story. She made her way to her own bed where a small mountain of books from homework she had yet to get started on was waiting for her. Dread filled her stomach as she glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand that stood between hers and Wally’s beds and groaned when she saw that it was already past midnight. She had a decision to make: get some much-needed sleep so she could actually function throughout the day or complete her homework now so she didn’t have to worry about getting another sub-par grade that would most likely earn her another lecture from another teacher on how they expected so much more from her.

Swiping the books off her bed and onto the floor, Iris came to the conclusion that sleep was the better – and more appealing, by far – option and that she could handle another lecture for the sake of her exhausted brain cells that were screaming for some rest and rejuvenation. She needed those cells to be ready and alert when it came to not only her day-to-day life but also watching out for Wally and making sure that he stayed out of trouble. If she allowed herself to get too exhausted, she would become sluggish and slow, which was never a good state to be in when it came to looking after a boy who did things at two speeds: fast and faster. It was unfortunate that the part of his brain that was in charge of considering the consequences of his actions tended to be slower than the rest of him, so that meant that Iris always had to be ready to intervene or clean up his messes at the drop of a hat before things got too out of hand.

With her decision made, Iris went to her drawers and laid out her clothes for school, mentally patting herself on the back for having chosen to do her nightly ablutions before she began Wally’s Flash story. She laid her outfit out neatly on top of the drawer and, despite feeling completely depleted of all energy, trudged her way to the bedroom door where she made sure that it was shut completely but most importantly that it was locked. Even though a locked door hadn’t necessarily proven to be a flawless method of keeping out the dangers that lurked at night, especially when some monsters happened to have the right key, a locked door was still a sign that entry was discouraged to outsiders, and to an inebriated mind that was blurry and foggy, that single obstacle could be enough to turn them away. Not all the time, but some.

Iris returned to the bed and flicked off the lamp, but she paused just before climbing under the covers as she scanned her eyes around the room. Despite the fact that Wally was still fast asleep in his bed, there was an odd niggling feeling in her stomach that something wasn’t quite right. The room was filled with silence, but it was also filled with something else: a charge in the air that made it feel thick and heavy, which in turn made her chest feel tight with every breath she took. She couldn’t quite put her finger on just what was happening until she heard a crackling break through the silence and found her eyes veering toward the far corner by Wally’s bed that was completely covered in darkness. She squinted her eyes, willing them to become adjusted to the dark, but she felt herself freeze as the crackling sounded again only to be accompanied by a flash of blue light that temporarily lit up the corner. In that blink of light, the thick air in Iris’s chest suddenly vanished from her lungs as she realized that someone was standing there, masked by those shadows, even though she was more than certain that no one had been there when she had turned the light off. More crackling sounded and suddenly the entire room was lit up as blue zig-zags of light slithered along a large, dark, manly frame. Iris did not need to see the face of the figure, which would have been impossible considering that it was concealed behind a black sinister-looking mask, to know who the man was. She was intimately aware of his identity due to the fact that he had been conjured up in her own imagination. The malevolent figure looming over her still-slumbering brother was none other than Zoom.

She opened her mouth to scream out in fear, alarm, or pleading, but Zoom vanished from the corner faster than her eye could see and suddenly appeared in the small space between her bed and Wally’s. His arm was outstretched and dangling from his grasp was her brother whose throat was clenched like a vice in Zoom’s hand while the rest of his body hovered two feet above the ground. Wally’s eyes were wide open now, and they were bulging as he made wheezing sounds as the life was being strangled from his body. His legs began to kick as he reached up with his hands to claw at the arm keeping him suspended in the air, but Zoom’s grasp on him was firm. The dark figure wasn’t even paying attention to the boy in his hold; his eyes were focused completely on her.

“Please!” she cried out as tears of helplessness began to slide down her cheeks. She reached her own hand out, desperate to help her brother, but her body was petrified in place by fear. “Please, don’t hurt him!”

Zoom said nothing as his dark eyes continued to stare at her. Silence once again fell between them for a moment that seemed to stretch on for decades. Only Wally’s struggling gurgles kept accurate time and reminded Iris that she needed to do something, fast.

Suddenly Zoom spoke in a voice that sounded like it was filled with grinding gravel. “I will not allow any other to have your affections.”

Iris knew what was going to happen as soon as she heard those words, and despite her previous immobility, she threw herself across the small space between them with a scream of determination burning her throat as it escaped her lips. Her only goal was to get to Wally.

Her hands were still a few inches away when the heart-stopping snap of bone being broken sounded loudly in her ears. She looked up just in time to see Wally’s eyes dull as his head fell at an awkward angle to the side. He was then effortlessly flung across the room where his body collided with a dull thump against the wall that made the fluids stirring in her stomach slide up her esophagus and collect in her mouth. Her brother was dead – killed by the monster standing less than a foot away from her.

Iris collapsed awkwardly onto her knees on the floor, completely depleted of all energy. She was given no time to wallow in that grief, however, before she felt hard, strong fingers grasping her throat. Too defeated at the loss of her brother, she didn’t even struggle as she felt her feet leave the ground and her own struggle to breathe began. She stared dully into the masked face of her own conjured demon.

“You’re mine, Iris,” Zoom declared as he brought her closer to him, his face less than a few inches from hers. “You belong to me,” he then said, and suddenly, his free hand was elbow deep in her chest with his fingers wrapped around her heart. “This is mine, and mine alone,” he concluded before pulling the organ right from her chest. Darkness took over, but it wasn’t fast enough for Iris to miss the look of utter malice and possession in the dark, empty pits of black that were his eyes. Death suddenly could not come fast enough…

OUT OF ORDER. PLEASE USE STAIRS.

Barry stared at the note taped to the elevator door with barely contained fury but also begrudging acceptance. After the night he had, it just seemed like everything was meant to be complete and utter shit: his evening at the art gala, his argument with Patty, and the parting words that she had practically spat in his face before driving off. It was all one big disaster of a night, and the sign on the door was just the topper – the cherry on top of the crap-on-Barry sundae.

He slammed his thumb against the button, hoping he could catch a break, but the button stayed unlit, confirming that a walk was in his near future. Rolling his eyes while mentally telling himself to suck it up, he made his way to the stairwell and began the long trudge up the five flights of stairs to his floor. It wasn’t like he necessarily minded the trek; it just irritated him that he was going to have more than enough time to think back on, and thoroughly analyze, the last words Patty had said to him before driving off, squealing tires and all.

“I entered this relationship ready to give you everything I had, Barry, and I’d like to think that I’ve tried to do that up to this point. Maybe you should consider what it is that’s keeping you back from doing the same with me before we go any further. I need to know if this is going anywhere before I give any more of myself to you.”

Barry could fess up to the fact that when he had initially started dating Patty, he hadn’t really put in much of an effort in being a good boyfriend; in fact, he hadn’t really intended for the relationship with her to evolve into anything after he had accepted her initial offer to grab dinner. She was a newbie on the force, and she had complimented him on how neat his reports were, and he had found the whole thing adorable. So when she had asked, he had accepted despite the fact that he knew he was risking getting into an awkward situation by going out with a co-worker. Patty, however, had seemed eager to jump right in, and the date ended up going off pretty great with both of them realizing that they shared a good deal of common interests. The evening had even ended at her place.

The next day, however, after sneaking out of her bed and heading home, Barry had come to the conclusion that he liked her well enough, but the connection hadn’t really felt good enough to ask her out on a second date. As great as everything had been, he wasn’t sure he knew how to give more of himself to her. Sure, there was chemistry, but Barry hadn’t been sure if it was enough for him to actually commit, especially when he had been avoiding any kind of serious commitment ever since he and Bette had broken up in college.

Patty, however, had different thoughts on the matter. She called him the day after their date/hook up and she berated him for sneaking out of her apartment without allowing her to, at least, make him breakfast. She refused to accept his excuses or his subtle ploys to leave things be between them, and she had ended up showing up at his apartment with enough breakfast food to feed not only him, but Mark and Bette as well, though the latter refused the offer. Patty had been overly affectionate and sweet with him throughout the meal, but before she left later that day, she had told him that she would not chase him if he didn’t want to be with her. The decision to further their relationship would be up to him.

Barry had to resort to getting advice from his father on the matter due to the fact that the counsel he received from his roommates had been split with Mark telling Barry to take the leap with the blonde police officer, and Bette telling him that there were better fish in the sea. Henry hadn’t exactly given him an exact answer with a definitive yes or no, either, but his advice was more helpful.

When asked about how he knew that Nora was the one for him, the eldest Allen had said that he had felt an immediate spark from the start with the woman who would eventually be his wife, though their relationship hadn’t exactly been the wine and roses it was now. He told Barry that sometimes a relationship took more than chemistry – that it actually took some hard work and endurance – but that the more work put in toward the betterment of the relationship, the more fruitful it would become. Those words gave Barry enough incentive to finally decide that he wanted to give the relationship with Patty a real shot.

He liked to think that he had become a better partner to Patty after he made that decision to take the leap with her. He always made an effort to speak to her at least once every day, and he allowed her to dictate what they would do on their dates, even though he wasn’t necessarily crazy about watching Doctor Strange in theaters or going to art exhibits, but mostly they had fun. She was fun, and he enjoyed being with her, but the fact that she could accuse him of not being as equally committed to her as she was to him felt a bit like a low blow and an awakening. Had he really been such a horrible boyfriend to her that she would claim that he was practically nonexistent?

The last real relationship Barry had was with Bette whom he had met in his first physics class at Central City University. Just like with Patty, he and Bette had hit it off from the start, and they had quickly become one of the best known couples on campus, but after their Sophomore year ended, Bette had sat him down and told him that she just didn’t really feel like their relationship was working. Just like how he had been earlier that night with Patty, Barry had been caught off guard, but when she explained to him how they didn’t really fit together despite their similarities, Barry had realized that she was right. As much as he cared for her, there just wasn’t that fire and passion between them that he saw with his parents when he was growing up. The way that Henry Allen looked at Nora like she hung the moon every time he laid eyes on her had been something that Barry had always wanted for himself, and he had hoped that he would have that with Bette, but after her revelation, he had realized that it wasn’t there. As hard as it was to let her go, he had known that it was the right thing to do, and the two of them had remained close friends ever since.

Was that the same path that he was taking with Patty? Was he hoping to build the spark they had together into a flame that just didn’t want to build? Or was he just trying to cop out like he had done so many times before in the countless other hookups and flings he had tried to start but eventually gave up on after Bette?

Barry was pondering that deeply as he reached the third floor, but he became distracted by the sound of the stairwell door being slammed open from one of the floors below him, followed by racing footsteps that sounded immediately after. Whoever was in the stairwell with him was in some kind of hurry, and based on the speed in which the loud footsteps were coming toward him, he knew that they would overtake him soon. He moved closer to the wall, leaving plenty of room for the runner to pass.

The runner’s loud steps grew nearer and nearer until Barry heard them sounding on the landing right behind him. Turning his head to look at the runner over his shoulder, he felt his eyes widen at the sight of Bette racing toward him looking sweaty and disheveled: her red hair flying everywhere, her face and neck doused in sweat, and her chest rising and falling rapidly with every gasp that left her lips. He was shocked even more, however, when she ran up the stairs and passed him without so much as a look or glance back. Her pace remained unrelentingly fast as she climbed the steps rapidly like there was a fire, though if that were the case she was heading toward it instead of away.

Of their own volition, Barry’s feet quickened as well, as he found himself chasing after her. He was confused that she was even there with him in the stairwell, when he had left her with Iris earlier on in the evening. Had she left to get something? And if she did, why was she empty-handed? And why was she running up like there was an emergency?

“Bette, what’s going on? What are you doing?” he called up to her when he finally managed to catch up so that he was just two steps behind her. “What’s the hurry?”

Bette gave no response or indication that she was planning to respond as she continued running, until, finally, she reached the fifth floor and slowed her pace to a brisk walk.

“Maybe you would know if you had answered the twenty calls I made to you!” she hissed out acerbically over her shoulder as she walked swiftly toward their apartment door, which was on the far side of the hall. “I guess you were probably too busy kissing Patty’s friends’ asses or sucking her face off to actually answer your goddamn phone.”

Immediately, Barry reached into the pocket of his slacks and plucked his phone out. As soon as the screen lit up, he saw that he had missed twenty-three calls from Bette, five from Tony, and one from their downstairs neighbor, Miss Hatchett. He felt his heart drop into his stomach as he realized that he had missed out on something very urgent, and adding to the fact that Iris’s name had not shown up in the notifications, he felt his entire body grow cold at the idea that something had happened to her and he had completely been oblivious to it all because of Patty’s insistence that he turn his phone off at the exhibit.

Bette was already at their door, putting the key into the lock when Barry finally caught up to her. Seeing the frantic, panicked look on her face did little to calm his own buzzing nerves.

“What happened? I thought that you were here with Iris,” he said, pushing down the building guilt in his chest with the desire to help. He just needed more information to act on. “My phone was off, but I see that Miss Hatchett called. Did something happen in the apartment?”

Bette’s shaking hands were struggling to twist the key in the lock, and she was mumbling a string of profanities under her breath as she continued to try and twist the key only to meet resistance. Seeing her like that was another punch to Barry’s gut because it was a rarity to see Bette San Souci riled up. She was trained to remain calm in the highest stress situations, but she was close to being too rattled to even function properly. Barry chose that moment to intervene, seeing as she had shoved the key into the lock upside down. He took the key from her and shot her a look, silently asking her to answer his questions as he inserted the key correctly. Bette still looked angry and was about to shout at him some more, but she seemed to think better of it.

“I left here a few hours ago because Tony got off early, and Iris said that I should go see him. I should have known that it was a bad idea to leave her, especially with the wine and because of what we were talking about at the time, but I was horny and I missed my boyfriend so I left anyway,” she rambled as she dug her fingers into her disheveled tresses. “And then Miss Hatchett called me an hour ago, and she sounded upset because she said she heard screams coming from the apartment. She said she even knocked on the door to tell us to keep it down, but there wasn’t an answer, which frightened the hell out of me because when I tried calling Iris, right after, she didn’t answer me, either. So, of course, I started making my way back here, but there was a huge accident on the freeway that made traffic a bleeding nightmare everywhere, so I tried calling you to see if you were home or close to the apartment, but you didn’t answer, which was when I basically told Tony to commit every traffic violation imaginable to get us back here as soon as possible, which is how I’m here now, AND SERIOUSLY, WHAT IS TAKING SO LONG TO OPEN THE DAMNED DOOR, BARRY!?”

Realizing that he had paused to listen to her explanation, Barry quickly turned the key in the lock and opened it before he was yelled at any further. Bette pushed past him and made a beeline for Iris’s door, which Barry noted was still closed, which he hoped was a good sign. He was less than a step behind Bette as she reached the door and opened it instead of knocking. He took advantage of their height difference to peer over Bette’s shoulder as the door was opened to a still dark room.

“Iris?” Bette called out softly, her panicked tone somewhat softened from what she had been using with him less than a minute before. “Iris, are you awake?” she then said as she blindly reached for the light switch along the wall.

As soon as the room was filled with light, a soft gasp escaped Bette’s lips as she took in the scene before her. Her entire demeanor remained calm, but Barry could see her eyes widen as they wandered the room searching for her friend while trying not to be affected by the sight of broken shards of glass from what looked like the wine bottle Iris and Bette had out a few hours earlier, Iris’s bed, empty with the sheets tangled and hanging off the side of the bed, and red, smeared blotches on the floor that Barry’s CSI brain immediately knew was blood.

“Wh-what happened?” Barry questioned, his tone veering toward panic as Bette stepped farther into the room.“Where is she?”

Bette seemed to be doing a better job of remaining calm as she continued to make her way toward the other side of the room. She stopped abruptly when she reached the other side of Iris’s bed, her eyes wide as she looked upon something that Barry couldn’t see from the doorway. The red-haired woman placed her hand over her mouth as her eyes immediately began to glisten with tears, which sent another rush of panic to Barry who immediately made his way to where she was standing. Once again using his height to look over her shoulder, he too found himself somewhat shocked by what he saw. Iris had managed to squeeze herself into the small space between her nightstand and the far wall. Her legs were crossed and pulled up in what looked like an almost painful contortion that had her knees pressed to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her hands, which were stained red with what Barry could only assume was blood, were both grasping at the material of the cotton t-shirt covering her chest. Her cheeks were glistening with a steady stream of tears but her eyes remained squeezed closed, as though she were still sleeping or praying. Seeing her like that made Barry’s heart feel like it was made of lead inside his chest.

“Wh-” Barry began to speak, but Bette held a hand up to him to be silent, which he reluctantly complied with, considering Bette seemed to have a better grasp of the situation than he did. He was barely able to restrain himself from running to Iris and pulling her into his arms where he could soothe her and make sure she was okay, but he had a feeling that doing that would be more detrimental than helpful.

“Iris, sweetie?” Bette called out gently, her voice soft and soothing. She walked forward and slowly crouched down in front of where Iris was still curled up. “Iris, it’s me, Bette. I need you to open your eyes for me, sweetie.”

“B-Bette?” Iris whispered as her hands finally dropped from her chest and her eyes finally opened. Her shirt was streaked crimson from where her bloodied hands had grasped the material, and her voice quivered and was small, barely louder than a whisper, and it sounded congested and dull, like she was speaking from inside a bottle. “What are you d-doing here?”

Barry watched, immobile, as Bette reached out and gently cup Iris’s cheek, wiping at the stream of tears still falling from her eyes. His own hands balled into fists at his side as he found himself wanting his hand to be the one that wiped away those tears.

“You’re in our apartment, in your bedroom, on the floor by your bed,” Bette stated calmly as she continued to tenderly stroke Iris’s cheek. “You’re with me and Barry, and you gave us both quite a scare when you didn’t answer our calls.”

Iris sniffled as she began to wipe at her own cheeks with the back of her hand. Barry felt his throat go dry at the sight of the her palms covered in blood that was oozing from a handful of cuts on her fingers and palms. Her fragile state was jarring to say the least, and it fueled the urge to step forward and do something and yet he couldn’t get himself to act on that urge.

“H-h-he was here, B-Bette,” Iris mumbled. “He was here, and h-h-he was an-angry, and he w-wa-wanted to hurt me and Wally.”

“No, no, no,” Bette replied sternly but gently, shaking her head frantically back and forth. “He’s not here and he never was,” she went on firmly. “He’s never going to come to you again, Iris. You’re here, and you’re safe with me. It was all just a dream.”

“And Wally?” Iris cried worriedly, her eyes finally veering away from Bette as she seemed to search worriedly for another presence in the room. Her eyes caught sight of Barry, but she looked right past him as though he weren’t even there and continued looking around the room for something or someone else.

Bette reached forward, gently placed her fingers on Iris’s trembling chin, and forced the latter to look back at her. “Wally is safe and sound in Coast City. He’s probably sound asleep with Linda as we speak,” she said calmly.

More tears began to fall down Iris’s face as her lips began to quiver. “Are you sure?” she cried, her voice veering toward panic.

“If you want to call him to see for yourself, then I’ll get my phone, but I want to make sure that you are okay first. It looks like you cut yourself up pretty bad,” Bette said, gesturing to Iris’s hands. “Will you let me have a look?”

Iris looked down at her own hands and her brow furrowed when she saw the cuts, like she was just noticing that they were there. She then looked back up to Bette with confusion etched on her face. “What happened to me?”

Barry stepped forward, no longer able to just stand back and watch, but Bette turned her head and shot a stern look over her shoulder at him, freezing him in place. He shot her a pleading look back, silently asking for her to let him help, but Bette shook her head once firmly and returned her attention back to Iris in clear dismissal. He didn’t want to leave, but the vibe in the room gave him the resounding impression that he was not needed, so he slowly made his way back toward the doorway. Shooting another glance over his shoulder when he reached the door, he couldn’t see either woman anymore, but he could hear Bette whispering soothingly to Iris. It was enough reassurance for him to leave the two of them alone long enough to retrieve the first-aid kit.

Tony was just making his way through the front door when Barry came out of the closet where they kept the kit. The larger man looked winded, which Barry could only assume meant that he had run up the five flights of stairs with the same relentlessness as his girlfriend.

“Did Bette make it up here?” Tony asked in between gasps, worry overpowering the exhaustion in his voice.

Barry nodded solemnly. “She raced right past me,” he said and then rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Sorry you guys had to rush here. My phone was off and I didn’t know there was an emergency.”

Tony waved Barry’s apology off with a flick of his thick, meaty hand. “It’s all right. Bette would have wanted to get here just as quickly and would’ve been just as reckless even if you had answered your phone. Iris is basically her sister, so she wouldn’t have completely trusted your judgment of the situation, regardless.”

He looked through the open door to Iris’s room where soft voices were still conversing just loud enough for both men to hear but not quite loud enough for the words to be decipherable. When he turned around, he saw the first-aid kit in Barry’s hand and frowned.

“Is Iris all right?” he asked, his voice quieter now, though still filled with worry.

“Um… I think so.” Barry hated how uncertain his voice sounded saying those words. Luckily Bette saved him from having to explain things any further by appearing in the doorway.

“Iris really cut up her hands pretty bad.” Her words were addressed to Tony, but it was Barry who nodded, relieved that there was finally something that he could possibly do to help.

“Should we take her to the hospital?” he asked eagerly.

Bette shook her head. “She’s still a little shaken, so the less people around her, the better.” Her words were spoken in a short, almost abrasive tone. “She also absolutely hates hospitals, so taking her there would probably freak her out more. You don’t have to worry about helping her because Tony and I can handle it. We’ll be fine.”

“Babe-” Tony started to object as he took in the look of rejection on Barry’s face, but Bette shot him one look and the much larger man closed his mouth and became silent.

“I’m going to clean and bandage her up,” Bette declared more firmly.

It was Tony’s turn to nod, but Barry was unable to just sit back and do nothing. He could see Iris over Bette’s shoulder. She was seated on her bed, facing the door, with her head bowed down and both her legs draped over the edge. The desire to see her face to see if she was okay was so strong that before he knew what he was doing, he was calling her name.

“Iris? Iris!”

She looked up at the sound of her name being called, and her eyes met his. He could swear that he saw a wave of wariness and fear in her eyes as she looked at him, but the most present emotion on her face was embarrassment. Before he could call out to her again, she lowered her head back down to stare at her bloody hands in her lap, her hair falling around her head like a curtain, hiding her face from his gaze.

Barry stepped forward, ready to put his foot in the doorway, but Bette placed herself in front of him, blocking his path. He opened his mouth to call out to her again, but Bette once again silenced him by taking the kit from under his arm and shutting the door in his face. The message was clear from both women: he was not wanted there.

Iris’s head felt like it was filled with smoke and fog, and her hands felt like they were on fire despite the fact that the cuts on her palms had been somewhat haphazardly cleaned and bandaged by Bette to the best of her ability. The pain was just a hair’s breadth on the side of bearable, but because she had convinced Bette that the cuts weren’t serious enough to warrant a visit to the ER, she had to hide just how much pain she was in from her best friend. As scarred as she was by some of the events of her past, there was a small upside of living in the same household with a secretly sadistic sociopath. It had made her a professional at hiding her pain from others.

“If your hands hurt, then tell me. Tony is staying in my room tonight, so it’ll be easy for us to have him take us to the ER if you need to see a doctor.” Bette had paused in the middle of sweeping the shards of glass on the floor to say this, most likely because she could sense how much pain Iris was still in despite the latter doing a fairly impressive job of schooling her features into an impassive mask. “I’ll be with you the entire time. There won’t be a single second where you would ever be alone.”

Iris shook her head as she gazed up pleadingly into Bette’s concerned gaze. “No, no, it’s okay,” she lied behind gritted teeth just as another jolt of searing pain slid up her hands. “I think I just want to go to bed and sleep, and if my hands feel or look worse in the morning, then I’ll go to the doctor to see if I need stitches or anything like that.”

Bette continued to stare down at her warily. Iris could tell that it was taking every ounce of patience that her best friend possessed to rein in the urge to ignore her excuses and just drag her to the nearest ER – a feat that could be easily accomplished with Tony’s bulging muscles at Bette’s disposal. Iris made sure to give Bette her warmest smile to show her just how appreciative she was of the fact that the normally stubborn and take-charge redhead was exercising restraint.

“Fine,” Bette acquiesced after heaving out a sigh. “But I’m staying with you tonight, and if I hear you crying, or if I see you wincing too much then I reserve the right to drag your ass to the hospital. No excuses or complaints.”

Iris nodded solemnly, though she knew she would rather have her hands fall off than actually go to the hospital. She was, however, happy to hear Bette say that she would be staying with her. The last thing she wanted was to be alone.

“You don’t have to worry about the glass, Bette. I can pick it up in the morning,” she said, hoping to change the subject.

“Why would I do that? You could cut yourself… worse.” Bette frowned as she glanced worriedly at Iris. The frown on her lips only grew more grave by what she saw. Iris could only assume that Bette probably saw how detached she, Iris, still felt despite having been fully awake for the past fifteen minutes.

Bowing her head, she stared down at her hands that lay in her lap. At least with those shards in the room, I would know I’m not the only broken thing in here.

Iris heard a sharp gasp, and when she looked up, she found Bette looking back at her with tears in her blue eyes. She hadn’t realized that she had actually uttered that thought aloud.

The broom in Bette’s hand hit the floor with a resounding thwack and before Iris knew what was happening, she was wrapped up tight in her best friend’s arms. She didn’t even try to resist the embrace, nor did she want to, because in the midst of her feeling like she was falling apart, Bette’s arms acted as a temporary glue keeping the thousands of pieces together.

“You’re not broken, you never were,” Bette stated firmly as she held Iris tightly. Her voice was gentle but held a sharp edge that was meant to pierce through the fog of doubt in Iris’s head. “You went through something that no one should ever have to go through, Iris, and you came out on the other side intact. It was that asshole who was broken, and his sickness made him try to break you, but he didn’t. He never could because you’re so much stronger than his sickness.”

Iris closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to Bette’s shoulder, her tears leaking from the corner of her eyes, soaking the material of Bette’s shirt. “I don’t feel strong right now, Bette,” she cried softly.

“That’s just because you’re human, Iris, and you have a big heart that feels everything. No one can go what you went through unscathed, but that just means that when you’re feeling weak or scared that you should let those of us who love you be strong for you.”

The two women continued to hold each other tight for another few minutes: one giving all the comfort she could give and the other soaking up as much of that comfort as she could.

“You may not know this, but I thank God for you every day, Bette San Souci,” Iris said softly as she rested her had on Bette’s shoulder. “I don’t think I could have lasted this long if I didn’t have you.”

“Actually, I did know that,” Bette replied with a smirk that actually brought a genuine smile back to Iris’s face. “And you’ll always have me because I don’t plan on going anywhere.” She placed a hand on top of Iris’s, though she made sure to be gentle so as not to cause her anymore pain. They sat like that for a few more moments before eventually pulling apart. Bette returned to sweeping up the glass and Iris remained seated on the bed, silently watching her.

“So… Wally and Linda are going to be visiting in a few weeks. It’ll be nice to have him around again, right?”

A small, tentative smile appeared on Iris’s lips. “Yeah, it’ll be nice to have him in the same city again, even if it’s just for a few days. You’d think I would be happy to be able to dish him off on Linda, but I miss him more and more the longer we’re apart.”

Bette smiled as well, but it became a bit strained as she looked to Iris thoughtfully. She opened her mouth, but then paused in hesitation before shaking her head and going on. “Maybe, if you wanted, it would be a good time… for you to tell him about what happened to you.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Iris replied immediately, shaking her head vehemently. “The only thing that made all of the stuff with him bearable was knowing that it was keeping Wally safe and with me. Wally being oblivious to all of that was something that made it easier to deal with the cuts and the bruises I got from him.”

“I understand you keeping it from Wally back then, because he was a kid and he was still messed up over your dad, but he’s 24 now, Iris. Thanks to you, he’s on the path to becoming an engineer, on a path to having a career doing something he loves, and he is now married to the love of his life. I’m sure he could handle hearing about the past that you kept secret from him if you just gave him the chance, especially if it would help you move forward in your own life.”

“You sound like all the therapists who all suggested the same thing,” Iris murmured sullenly. “They all presumed that telling Wally would automatically fix me, but they were all wrong. If anything, it would destroy me if Wally found out because I just know how he would take it. He would blame himself for what happened, and then he would feel guilty, and that’s the last thing I want for him to feel. I don’t ever want him to feel guilty for living his life. It’s not his fault what happened to me then.”

“And how do you think he would take it if he found out, and he realized how much strain you’ve put upon yourself for his benefit? Do you really think he wouldn’t want to know that you’re having nightmares – that you’ve had them from the moment you left that crazy house? How do you think he would react to what happened tonight?”

“Well, that’s something we’ll never know because I don’t plan on telling him.” Iris folded her arms across her chest, though she was careful not to jostle her hands too much, in a gesture that was the silent equivalent of saying ‘don’t push it’. “I love you, but this is just one of those things that I don’t really plan on caving in on. I’m sorry.”

Bette once again looked like she was struggling with her patience, but after a minute of silent struggle, she nodded her head abruptly. “You’re really lucky that I love you, and that you’re hurt, otherwise this conversation would be far from over, missy,” she stated solemnly. “Now, I’m going to go throw this glass away, kiss my boyfriend goodnight, and then come back here to snuggle comfort you, okay?”

Iris smiled, relieved that the issue was dropped, and grateful that Bette was still planning on coming back. She didn’t feel like she had the energy to fight the one person who had always been in her corner when she needed someone the most. “Thanks again, for everything, and make sure to tell Tony ‘sorry’ for me for stealing his girlfriend for the night.”

Rolling her eyes with feigned exasperation, Bette rose from the bed. “He’s a big boy who can handle it, but I’ll tell him anyway.”

Iris watched silently as Bette returned to sweeping up the broken glass, and then she slowly rose from her bed as her best friend disappeared through the door. She waited a few seconds for Bette to get further down the hall before she made her way to the bathroom, which was conveniently located across the hall from her bedroom. A thorough perusal of the medicine cabinet was on the agenda because sleep was definitely not going to be possible without some powerful painkillers.

A minute later, Iris found herself swearing at a bottle of aspirin that lay on her palm, unopened. As great as it was to know that children would be incapable of getting to the pills because of the childproof lid, in her current condition, she was was equally incapable of accessing pain relief because her hands had basically become useless. Bette’s bandage job allowed very little movement of her fingers, and every time she so much as tried to squeeze the top, the pain that shot up her hand and wrist was intense enough to make tears stream down her face. She was literally on the verge of chucking the pill bottle right into the mirror from her frustration when she heard a loud throat clearing behind her. Gazing into the mirror, she quickly bypassed her own reflection, which she was not surprised to see was a complete mess with the red, puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, and focused on figure standing in the doorway behind her. It was Barry. He had changed from his tux and was now wearing a dark blue t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms with his auburn hair pointing in all separate directions.

“If you’re in a lot of pain, then you really should be going to the hospital.” His voice was soft and quiet, almost like how Iris imagined he would speak to a wounded animal. She didn’t know if she appreciated the fact that he was using that tone with her or felt even more mortified that he felt the need to handle her with kid gloves.

She slowly turned her body around to face his, but bowed her head at the last second to avoid looking up at him directly and seeing what she expected to be a look of pity on his face. “The cuts weren’t so bad, so we decided to hold off on going to the hospital.” His gaze felt like it was scorching the top of her head, but she still did not look up. “I’m just taking some painkillers to help me go to sleep, right now.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Even though he remained in the doorway, Iris could feel his concerned gaze weighing on her like an anvil.

“Yeah,” she answered shortly, but when she actually looked down at her hands she was alarmed to find that the bandages that Bette had just put on her palms were no longer white, but blotched with dark crimson circles. She could practically feel Tony’s meaty fingertips already on her arms, carrying her out the door as she stared at her hands, and the thought of having to go to the hospital actually made her stomach feel like it had suddenly become a home to thousands of overactive slugs crawling around the sides, churning the acid in her stomach.

“I think I’m just gonna take some painkillers to help me sleep for now, but if my hands aren’t any better or look worse in the morning, then I’ll have Bette take me to the hospital,” she continued, offering the same compromise that Bette had offered her.

She expected Barry to take the bait and scoot, having offered his concerns and his obligatory two cents on the matter, but when she finally willed herself to look up, she found him still planted in the doorway with a frown on his lips and a furrow in his brow. A part of her actually felt elated that he seemed to actually care, but the thought of him pushing the issue of her going to the hospital smothered that elation right out.

Barry took a few slow steps toward her. His green eyes remained focused completely on hers as he reached out his hand and silently plucked the pill bottle from between her fingers. He made no sign of having seen the little splotches of blood on the bottle that had come from her hands as he popped the lid off with the effortlessness that was expected of a grown, non-injured person. He poured three brown pill into the palm of his hand and then shut the bottle again before placing it on the sink behind her back, the move putting him even more into her space. Iris froze, not daring to move or even breathe as she listened to him open the cabinet and remove the rinsing cup that she kept there. She then listened as he turned on the sink and filled the glass. His closeness made her even more hesitant to exhale the air that had remained caught in her lungs from the moment he had entered her space. The fact that his eyes hadn’t left hers the entire time didn’t make it any easier.

“Here, take these,” he said as he finally took a step back from her to offer the pills and the cup in his hands.

Iris reached her hand out to take the pills, but his fingers closed around them, making her frown up at him in confusion. Instead of explaining, Barry lifted his hand up so that his fingers hovered near her lips. When she just stared at his hand, still confused, he pulled it back a fraction.

“I kinda doubt you want to get blood on them before you take them,” Barry explained, still holding them up.

Realizing that he had seen the blood on her palms and that he had a point with her not wanting to ingest it, Iris nodded her head in understanding and slowly opened her mouth, allowing him to put the pills on her tongue. She then complied as he raised the glass to her lips. She took a large gulp, washing the pills down with the water.

“Thanks,” she murmured after he put the cup down and finally put some real distance between them. She once again bowed her head, feeling somewhat bashful at the fact that he had basically had to feed her the pills, which meant that he understood just how not okay she really was. The fact that the entire process had felt so intimate was not completely lost on her, either.

They stood there for a moment, allowing the silence to wrap around them like a thick blanket. Iris was waiting for him to leave so she could do the same, but he remained steadfast in the doorway like an impenetrable wall despite his slender build. After everything he had just done for her, she didn’t want to just push past him to get to her room, but she also wasn’t sure why they were still standing there.

“Can I...” she heard him begin reluctantly before pausing. Lifting her head up, she found him looking at her with a mixture of uncertainty and desperation. It was clear that he wanted to ask her something, but he seemed to be afraid of how she would take it.

“Can you what?” she asked softly..

“Do you think that… I could take a look at your hands before you go?” His eyes remained on her face, most likely searching for signs of anger or distress from the question.

“Why?” Iris responded with a question of her own. She couldn’t help but feel suspicious of his offer, especially after his inquiries about taking her to the hospital. The thought of him wanting to gain proof that she needed to go was not something she wanted to deal with again.

“It looks like you’re bleeding a lot,” he reasoned. “I know that Bette is perfectly capable of putting on a bandage, but I just want to see if I can clean it up for you a bit before you go to sleep.”

Tilting her head to the side, Iris squinted her eyes at him warily. “Are you even qualified to do any of that?”

A small smile began to play around his lips as he took another step toward her. “I’m a CSI, so I’m very familiar with what happens if the bleeding isn’t treated properly, so… I guess I could be qualified in that regard.”

Unable to stop her own smile, Iris couldn’t resist the urge to poke at him a little. “So I should just trust you because you know what death looks like?”

Reaching out his hands, Barry gently brushed her wrists with his fingers and he led her to the toilet seat where he put the seat down for her to take a seat. “Well, considering the fact that you trusted Bette, even though she’s an explosives expert with no medical background whatsoever, should give me a little wiggle room in the qualifications department.”

“Hey, I heard that,” Bette remarked, suddenly appearing in the doorway. “And for your information, Barry Allen, I’m certified in First-Aid.”

Barry rolled his eyes for Iris to see before turning his attention to their other roommate. “You took that class two-and-a-half years ago, and you told me that you basically had to bribe your way to receive your certification because you slept through most of the class, B.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been patching Iris up for as long as I can remember, so even if I don’t have experience with other people, I have experience with her and that’s what counts.”

Barry looked like he was on the verge of retorting, and Iris could see, in the way that Bette’s eyes are narrowed at him, that her best friendwas just waiting for another excuse to snap at him, so she chose to intervene.

“I bled through the bandage, and he’s just changing it, Bette,” she reasoned with her best friend as she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Besides, I’m not shaking and fidgeting as much since the aspirin kicked in, so it’ll probably be a little better now.”

“Whatever, I’m gonna make some cocoa for us,” Bette remarked with a roll of her eyes and then pushed off the doorjamb and disappeared out the door, leaving Barry and Iris alone in her wake.

“Hold on a second. I’ll be right back.”

Barry got up and disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with the first-aid kit and a bowl filled with clean towels. He filled up the bowl with warm water and soap and then returned to Iris, seating himself on the lip of the bathtub in front of her, which was close enough that their knees touched. He placed her hands on his lap and went to work, his fingers gentle as they slowly worked to unwrap the wet bandages from her hands. Iris didn’t realize how intensely she was studying his expression as he worked until she watched him suck in a small breath as he took in the sight of the handful of cuts on both her palms and fingers. The corners of his lips turned down, and she swore that his eyes widened and grew wet, though she passed it off as exhaustion, considering that fact that they were well within the wee morning hours.

“I’m sorry that Bette has been so short with you,” she offered gently before hissing at a small shock of pain from the bandage rubbing against one of her cuts. Barry froze and looked up in regret, but that just pushed her on in her own efforts of passing things along. “She’s been dealing with my psycho night terrors ever since we were teenagers, and she sometimes gets overprotective. I’m sorry if you got caught up in that.”

“Oh, I’m aware of how protective she is. I was there with her, one time when we were dating, when you called in the middle of the night. I started to complain because it was so late and I didn’t know who was calling, but Bette told me to shut the hell up and kicked me out of her room while she talked to you on the phone.”

Iris felt her face heat up as she bowed her head, mortified. Bette was always her go-to whenever she had nightmares, especially when she needed to vent but knew better than to wake up Wally. She knew that Bette would always put her first, above any guy, just as she would have done if she had ever been in a relationship with anyone for more than a few weeks, but actually seeing how she may have affected her best friend’s relationships because of her problems suddenly felt like a stone pill in her stomach.

“Hey, I didn’t say that to make you feel bad,” Barry said, pulling her out of her thoughts. He frowned as he paused from unwrapping her hand. (It was then that Iris realized that Bette had been more than generous with the amount of bandage and tape she had used on her hands.) “And it’s not your fault that she was mad at me, tonight, either. It was actually my fault that she’s mad at me, not yours.”

“What happened?” Iris asked quietly, uncertain of whether or not it was her place to inquire further.

“She called me after she got the call from Miss Hatchett that she had heard screaming from the apartment,” he explained quietly, his tone quiet and sullen as he continued working on her hands. “She was rushing to get back to you, but there was an accident that slowed her down, and she wanted me to get here as fast as I could.”

The way he spoke made Iris tilt her head in confusion. His tone reminded her of a boy telling a teacher that he had cheated on a test or stolen something from a classmate. He sounded ashamed.

“Why would that make her angry with you?”

“Because… she called me more than twenty times, and I missed all of them because I turned my phone off at the gallery.” The sound of dejection and remorse in his voice and the penitent look on his face as he averted his eyes made Iris feel her own sorrow on his behalf. “I didn’t see that she called until she was running past me on the stairwell. I could have been here sooner if I had just answered one of her calls.”

Iris shook her head. “You have no obligation to me, Barry, nor did you expect what happened to me to have happened, so what is there possibly to blame yourself for? I was the one who had the nightmare, and I was the one who had a freak out. That has nothing to do with you, so you don’t need to feel any guilt, whatsoever, because you were handling your priorities, and I think once she calms down, Bette will see it that way, too. If anything, I should be the one apologizing for ruining your night, and I do apologize for that. I don’t ever want to be a burden on anyone.”

“Oh, believe me, my night was ruined long before I came home,” Barry murmured darkly. “And I do feel guilty for not being here because you are my friend, and I care about you a lot, Iris,” he then declared, looking directly into her eyes as he said it. She had trouble being under such an intense gaze, but she could sense that he meant it, which was why she couldn’t let herself look away.

His words made her heavy heart feel like it had lost ten pounds. Iris was caught off guard at the warmth building inside her chest. It felt like an anvil had just been lifted off her back, and she was on the verge of floating right off the toilet seat. A whole fleet of words danced onto the tip her tongue, desperate to escape her lips and flow to his ears. But just as quickly as they appeared, she gulped them down and forced them down further into the back of her throat. There was no way she was planning on letting any of the things that had floated to her mind ever be spoken aloud.

“Was the gallery that bad?” she asked gently, instead, choosing to focus on what he had said first instead of what he had said about caring for her. “Is that why your night was so bad?”

Barry, seemingly unaware of the inner struggle within her, took the bait like a champ. “Well, the art all looked like it had been painted by a child, and when I told Patty that, she called me ‘an uncultured ass’,” he replied with a scoff. “And her friends all ganged up on me while we were there, which set Patty off so bad that it’s come to the point where I’m not even sure that I can call her my girlfriend anymore.”

Iris winced as she listened to Barry recount the events of his evening. She actually felt a pang of remorse for how badly his night had gone. It was dangerously close to being as bad as hers, which made her almost want to hug him just to make him feel better like Bette’s hug had done for her, but she chose to offer an apologetic smile and some kind words instead.

“I’m so sorry. It does sound like your night was kinda crap,” she apologized softy, wishing she could turn her hands around and grasp his hands in her own. “Coming home to a crazy roommate was just the cherry on top, huh?”

Barry huffed. “You’re not crazy, and if we’re being completely honest, this here, right now, has been the best part of my night.”

At Iris’s cocked eyebrow, Barry closed his eyes and shook his head, realizing how that sounded. “Not you getting hurt,” he rectified quickly. “I don’t like that you got hurt, I actually hate that more than anything else that happened tonight, but this moment… right here where I get to help you has been a bright spot in my night because I should have been here when you needed me, and I wasn’t.” A determined look suddenly took over him as he clenched his jaw and focused his gaze back onto her face. “I was late, tonight, but I won’t be next time. I promise that when you need me, I will be there, on time, because you’re worth being on time for, Iris. You’re not a burden, and you never will be.”

Iris was caught off guard by the words and the sincerity in them. They actually brought actual tears to her eyes, and made her heart feel like it was swelling inside of her chest. When he said things like that, it made it so hard for her to stay behind the barriers she always kept around herself. It shook her very foundation, which was why she said what she said next.

“I don’t think you have to worry about Patty. I really do think that everything with her will work out.”

Barry raised his eyebrows, evidently caught off guard by her statement. Before she could lose her nerve, Iris continued on.

“You are one of the smartest, sweetest, most generous people I have ever met, Barry Allen. You’re the most adorable nerd that I’ve ever known, and believe me, I’ve met a lot of them,” she remarked gently, smiling up into his face that had grown stoic as he listened to her, rapt. “What I mean to say is that you are an amazing person, and if Patty is aware of even a fraction of all that, she won’t just let you go no matter how hard things got.” I know I wouldn’t, was the thought that followed but she managed to catch herself before she could utter that thought aloud.

The stoic expression on his face remained in place for a long moment after she had fallen silent. Iris felt her entire face grow hot and suddenly had the urge to just get up and run, hands be damned. She felt naked under his gaze, exposed. She was already in the midst of planning her escape, when Barry’s lips finally twitched up. If it had been just that small smile, Iris would have assumed that he was just trying to placate her, but that smile turned into a grin – one so big that she was almost certain that it was going to split his face in half. Of their own volition, Iris felt her own lips twitch up in a smile as well, though it was far smaller than his, but only because she forced it to remain that way. She had given him enough of herself for one night.

“Thanks, Iris,” he replied, his words spoken like a soft whisper that somehow felt more intimate than the moment should have called for.

The grin remained on Barry’s lips as he finished unwrapping both of her hands, but it faded as soon as he got a look at the damage that had been done unwittingly by herself.

“There are a lot of cuts,” he observed quietly under his breath before looking up directly into her watchful gaze. “More than what I thought I saw before. Are you… Are you in a lot of pain? This looks really painful.”

Iris pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as a small surge of pain slid up her arms at the fresh exposure of her wounded hands. “It’s… not unbearable, but I do think the painkillers are kicking in.” She was only lying a little bit at this point, but she was determined to avoid returning to the topic of him insisting on a hospital visit.

“I don’t know how you’re not screaming,” he observed quietly, still frowning at the wounds on her hands. “I don’t think I could handle this amount of pain without a morphine shot.”

Shrugging her shoulders, Iris averted her eyes to the ground. “I have a high pain threshold. Based on some of the other injuries I’ve gotten over the years, this is nothing.”

“Is that why you hate going to the hospital?” he prodded as he picked up a towel and began to clean her hands. “Because you’ve had to be bandaged up so many times before?”

“Well, let’s just say that some of the doctors I’ve come across left more wounds than they healed,” she muttered lowly, avoiding his gaze as she stared at her lap.

When she felt Barry stiffen at her words, she immediately realized who she was talking to and how he could possibly take what she said, considering the fact that his father was a doctor. Biting her lip, she mentally rolled her eyes at herself.

“Not that I think all doctors are bad,” she rectified quickly, reluctantly raising her eyes to meet his, but he made it a point to keep his focus primarily on cleaning her hands. “I don’t know your father, Barry, but I’m sure he’s an amazing doctor. Maybe if he had been one of my doctors, I wouldn’t have such a phobia of hospitals. In fact, I would be happy to meet him, and I’m sure I would love him. I mean, I’ve met a lot of doctors in my lifetime. Jay has a PhD in physics, so he could be considered a doctor, even though he couldn’t do anything with my hands if he were here because he’s not that kind of doctor. And you’re not a doctor, either, but you’re treating me like you are and...”

Iris realized she was babbling like an idiot when she noticed Barry’s lips twitch up just seconds before his eyes flitted up and met hers. The embarrassment she expected to feel for the nonsensical rant she had just gone on was overshadowed by the warmth she felt in the pit of her stomach at the sight of that grin on his face.

“I get the hint,” he said gently, “and I’m not offended. Hospitals are kinda creepy. My mom hates hospitals, too, which is why she never visits my dad at work, like ever. She even made him come home to treat her one time when she fell and dislocated her shoulder while she was painting in the living room. My dad used to tease her and say that the only reason that she married him was because she wanted to avoid ever having to go to a hospital.”

Trying her damnedest to hide the small laugh that was bubbling behind her lips, Iris pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, but she still found herself smiling.

“It must have been nice growing up with a good doctor just down the hall,” she mused lightly, entranced as she watched him finish cleaning her hands and begin wrapping them again. She had to force herself to remain encompassed with the conversation because that particular thought was dangerously close to the edge of the pit that was her own dark past.

“Yeah, I guess, but if I’m being honest,” he said, leaning in as though he were about to reveal an earth-shattering secret, “I preferred my mom’s patch up jobs over my dad’s.”

Iris, who had unwittingly leaned in when he had, narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “So, what I’m gathering from you is that either you are a huge mama’s boy or your dad is not as amazing a doctor as I presumed.”

Barry’s cheeks became tinged with pink as he averted his eyes from her gaze to focus on the bandages. “My dad is an amazing doctor,” he declared shortly and looked as though he was going to say more but then he closed his mouth instead. His face grew even redder.

The laughter this time burst from Iris’s lips before she could even attempt to tamp it down, and she was glad that she didn’t try because the laughter felt good. She found his bashfulness endearing, even as she realized that the opportunity to tease him was too good to pass on.

“So you’re admitting that you are a mama’s boy?” she clarified lightly before giggling at the revelation. “Why am I not surprised?”

Barry chuckled along with her, this time, even though his cheeks remained stained with pink. “Hey, I am not ashamed to admit that I am a bit of a mama’s boy, but to be completely fair, that’s not the only reason why I usually wanted her to clean and bandage me up when I came home scraped and bruised.”

Iris looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to spill, but Barry once again made it a point to avoid looking at her by pretending his entire focus was on wrapping her hand. He completed her right hand and began to work on her left, silently. Iris, however, could not just let the issue drop, and she couldn’t hold in her irritation anymore.

“Well… you have me at the edge of my seat, Bar’,” she urged. “You can’t just leave me hanging.”

He actually had the nerve to look at her like he had no idea what she was talking about. With her hands out of commission and his shoulders too far for hers to reach, Iris nudged his knee with hers and stuck out her bottom lip in her best pout. Still, he continued wrapping her hand, his motions still gentle, as he acted like he had completely forgotten that they had even been talking about anything at all.

“Oh my God, Barry, are you going to tell me or not?” Iris exclaimed, nearing her wit’s end.

The answering smirk he gave her almost made Iris wish that her hands were back to working order so that she could slap it off his face. That particular urge, however, vanished as soon as his eyes met hers and she saw the mischief there. For some reason, she was suddenly transfixed by how long his eyelashes looked and how green his eyes were, though she could now see the flecks of blue and gold in the irises with him being so close. She hadn’t even realized that they had started to move closer together. When had that even happened?

“My dad may have been the doctor in the house, but I always felt like I healed faster when my mom would patch me up,” he replied slowly, his hands placing the last bit of tape on her hands, which had thankfully finally gone numb from the pain medication. “And it wasn’t anything medical. She’s not medically trained or anything. She just did one thing that he didn’t, but that one thing always made me feel better, and I personally believe that it made me heal faster.”

“What was it?” Iris asked, her curiosity slicing through her strange mess of confusing thoughts concerning his nearness.

With his smirk widening, Barry raised her freshly bandaged hands up to his face. Iris gave him a wary look, not understanding what he was doing. It wasn’t until she saw him lower his head that she finally understood what was about to happen, and with that realization came the urge to pull her hands right out of his grasp before he could do it. Before she could act on that urge, however, his lips landed on the fresh bandages covering her right palm. Even though his lips weren’t even touching her skin, Iris felt a surge of warmth enter her palm from that simple kiss and that warmth slid up her arm into her neck and cheeks, and then down to her collar, before settling in her chest, right behind her ribs. It wrapped around her heart, providing it with a surge of energy that made it begin to beat rapidly against her rib cage. She was given no time at all to recover before she was slammed with another shock current of heat as he kissed her other palm without even missing a beat. Her entire body became swarmed with a buzz that made her feel both tingly and hot at the same time.

Barry placed her hands back in his lap, and finally looked up at her with that smirk still on his lips. It, however, began to fade at what he saw on her face. Iris wasn’t sure what it was he saw, but before she even knew what was happening, she saw him start to lean his face in toward hers, closing the distance between them. Her brain was ablaze with conflicting thoughts that were screaming at her to both get a hold of herself and to let go. The only reassurance she had that everything wasn’t going to complete hell was the fact that she could feel herself wanting, desperately, to lean in and close the gap between them completely.

“ Hey, aren’t you done yet? Your cocoa’s getting cold.”

Bette’s voice acted like ice to Iris’s heated body. She not only pulled away from Barry, whose face had come within less than an inch of her own – close enough for her to feel his breath on her lips – but she rose from the toilet seat and placed as much distance between them, which given the size of the small bathroom, had her careening right into the bathroom sink. Of course, such a move only made what happened between Barry and herself even more awkward as he looked up at her in shock and confusion. His hand reached out to her as though he planned on pulling her back to him, but she pushed herself back even more into the sink, retreating from him, just as Bette appeared in the doorway.

“Did I interrupt something?” the redhead questioned awkwardly, choosing to focus her gaze on Iris whose face probably would have been beat read if not for the rich brown color of her cheeks.

Iris shook her head profusely as she did everything in her power to avoid looking at Barry whose gaze burned into her profile. “Oh, no, Barry was just showing me a trick his mom used to do with him to help with the pain,” she replied nonchalantly, though it didn’t come off as light or effortless as she had intended. Her voice was too loud, but it was still didn’t drown out the heavy thumping of her heart in her ears. “He’s done, and my hands are feeling a lot better, so...” she said and then dropped off, holding up her freshly bandaged hands to drive the point home.

Bette’s eyes narrowed as she flicked her eyes to Barry before returning her gaze to Iris. If she found anything questionable about the situation, she chose not to bring it to light as she merely nodded her head slowly toward Iris.

“Well, come to bed, then. Your cocoa’s getting cold,” she replied before turning and leaving once more.

Iris started to follow, but before walking out the door, she was unable to stop herself from looking back over her shoulder to Barry, who had yet to rise from his seat on the lip of the tub. Her eyes met his gaze, and instantly, that previous bout of energy once again slithered its way throughout her body. In his green eyes, she could see a longing that she no doubt knew would be mirrored in her own. She felt like a raw nerve had gone off in the pit of her being, yearning for her to turn around and go back to him and finish what they had started to do less than a minute before. She could practically feel her feet begging to walk back to him, but it was seeing the look in his eye – the naked yearning and want – that finally put that notion to rest. It too closely resembled a look that brought all notions of desire and warmth to a crash and burn behind the wariness and fear that she had pushed back the whole time she had been with Barry. It came back with a vengeance, forcing memories of pain and fear to the forefront of her thoughts while dragging her back into the recesses of the walls she had ventured too far from during her encounter with him.

The change inside of her must have become evident in her eyes because a second later, a sad smile crossed Barry’s lips before he finally tore his gaze from her. He started to pick up the previously discarded bandages and dirty towels around him, placing them back into the bowl with his back now turned to her. He did not look up at her again, and Iris realized that he was allowing her to leave, or she was being dismissed, which she found made her chest feel cold despite her brain trying to tell her that it was all for the best. It was the image of his back faced toward her that Iris kept replaying in her mind as she finally walked out the door and headed back to her room.

She forced herself to be calm and collected as she joined Bette in her bed and crawled under the covers. She drank the offered cocoa that was made for her, but the heat of the drink did nothing to battle the cold that had settled in her chest. Even as the light was turned off, and Bette immediately fell fast asleep, Iris found her chest still feeling cold and constricted, making it difficult for her to follow her bedmate into slumber.

Her eyes lingered on the wall separating her room from Barry’s, and she found herself staring at it solemnly, wondering what the occupant on the other side of that wall was doing. Unable to make herself sleep, she eventually rose from the bed and made her way to that wall, her bare feet silent on the wooden tiles. Iris placed her ear flat to the drywall and listened intently to the noises that came from the room next door. She immediately picked up the steady breaths of the room’s occupant who appeared to not have had the same difficulties that she had in falling asleep. Even so, she found herself unable to stop listening to those breaths, her mind making her imagine how his chest rose and fell with each one that escaped his lips. Her imagination made the image so vivid that she could almost feel her cheek rising and falling with each breath he took, as though her face was pressed to his chest instead of her wall. Imagining herself lying next to him, her body curled around his, feeling him breathe as he slept, made the iciness in her chest begin to fade and let the warmth trickle back in.

Iris finally pulled away from the wall, made her way back to her bed, climbed back under the covers next to Bette, and closed her eyes as she rested her head on her pillow. Even though she was now far away from the wall, and definitely out of range of those steady breaths she had heard through it, she swore she could still hear Barry breathing in her ear, and her imagination once again placed her by his side, uninhibited and unscarred, this time with him wrapped around her small body, allowing her to feel every single breath he exhaled throughout her entire being. She clung onto the image of him like a man overboard clinging to a life buoy. If she couldn’t be with him while awake, she would cling to being with him, blissfully unafraid and unshattered, any way she could - even if it was only in her dreams.

Authors Note: A million apologies to those of you who have subscribed to and commented on this story and have been waiting so long for an update. I've actually had this done for quite a while, but I wanted to make more headway into the next date before I published. Thank you so much for your patience. I see your support and I appreciate it more than you know! XOXO

#fic: subtle

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#fic: subtle