Archive of Our Own ^beta

This story is set a few months before Iris' scheduled death.
If you'd like to read this in Spanish, check my works for "Dios o demonio"
All kudos and comments are highly appreciated (both good and bad). Please enjoy!

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"Hey," Iris' voice startled Savitar when she entered his lair, and he turned to face her. His metal suit looked menacing, but she was prepared for the spikes and the glowing blue lights, she could handle it. She had left Barry in the middle of the night, while he was sound asleep, leaving him a note just in case he'd wake up. He wouldn't remember any of it, she'd never tell him about this night, about what she needed to do.

"What are you doing here?" The deep metallic voice made her skin crawl a bit, but she didn't let him see that, she just looked around, trying to see if Caitlin was there. She was nowhere to be found. 

"I needed to see you… and talk to you".

Savitar scoffed."You can't talk me out of killing you. You'll die in two months, on May 23rd, just like you always do".

"I know", her voice was soft. "That's not why I'm here".  

"Then, what do you want? You can't set me up," she frowned.

"I know what's going to happen," she sounded so sure Savitar was a little taken aback. "Barry keeps trying to help it, and I can't really blame him… But I know that in a certain way, it has already happened. I just wanted to talk to you. And I'd prefer to do it face to face." 

A long moment of silence lingered between them, and then a metallic sound made Iris jump. Moving very slowly Savitar took a knee, and then emerged from the suit. 

The resemblance to Barry was incredible and undeniable, but that wasn't the reason Iris suddenly felt like crying. What really upset her was his eyes, filled with pain and sorrow, and his face, marked with a scar that covered almost the entire right side. 

But he only looked at her for a brief second before turning away, trying to hide his scarred face. That scar had been with him for so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt like to be ashamed of it. It was the one thing that reminded him he wasn't really Barry Allen, that his memories weren't really his own. 

He felt somehow naked and vulnerable without his suit to protect him. 

"Hey ", whispered Iris once again, and her voice pierced through the man's broken heart. He never thought she'd talked to him like that again. He didn't remember this night, or anything about her going to visit him all alone. Why was she acting so recklessly? 

"What are you doing here?" He asked again, but this time with his own voice. "I don't remember anything about you telling Barry you were coming here". Iris looked concerned for a brief second.

"You remember the conversations I have with Barry?" 

When he spoke again, his nostalgic tone seemed to be holding a grudge. "I remember everything". His voice was just above a whisper again. He took a few steps, getting a bit of space between the two of them, and getting closer to the shadows again. They both had a big bulge in their throats, but she managed to speak through hers. 

"Then you remember I would never harm you. I promise I'm not trying to set you up, or change what's going to happen. I just want to talk to you. I think you owe me at least a conversation, after all you are going to kill me", her words were trying to pass as a bad joke, but her tone was just hurt enough that he knew there was truth behind them. 

"Why would you risk your life coming here?" 

"I don't think I'm risking anything. Not here. Not tonight". 

"What makes you think that?" His voice was quieter now. He never would have dared to imagine he was going to have new memories of Iris some day. Memories of her approaching him willingly, of her talking to him again softly as if he wasn't a monster.

"Because of the way you used to look at me, the way you used to love me. If that's still somewhere inside you, if those memories are still a part of you… I can't think you'd want to hurt me. I've tried. I've been trying to convince myself that you've lost your humanity, that you aren't my Barry anymore. But then I think of you, in the way I feel when you put your arms around me, or the way you look at me when you wake up next to me every morning… And I can't bring myself to believe that. I know you're not doing this because you want to, or because it gives you some sort of twisted pleasure. You're not like that".

"Iris, I'm not him", he was about to cry, but was doing his best trying to hide it. The memories she was talking about burnt bright in his mind, still as fresh and new as the day they'd created them together. 

Silence settled between them once more, as he tried to stay strong and she tried to break through his facade and find a way to his heart. 

"I left you a note telling you not to worry, that I'd be back soon", she started talking again when the silence was too overwhelming, and he was more than thankful for the change of topic. "I don't remember that either", he replied, so she shrugged. 

"Maybe I'll get home before you wake up. You'll probably never even know I left". 

"What are you doing here, Iris?" He made an effort to sound colder, ruthless, as if she was bothering him. He couldn't let her find out the truth. It'd be easier for her to think she was going to die at the hands of a soulless monster, she could not know her killer was going to be the man that had loved her for eons and more. She couldn't catch him off guard. 

But his guarded tone enticed the side of her that would always react to injustice. "Stop talking to me like I'm your enemy! I am not ", for the first time since she'd gotten there, her voice was strong and loud. He knew that side of her so well, he'd seen it so many times when they were at school, when she used to defend him against bullies after what happened with his parents. "When you were created, I was long gone. I didn't reject you. I didn't turn my back on you or tell you to leave". 

Iris thought she'd lost him, that he was gonna disappear and leave her alone for talking to him like that, but he didn't. The next words that came out of his mouth surprised and pleased her more than she would have liked to admit.

"I'm sorry", it was barely a whisper, and she knew he was just apologizing for his tone, and not for his actions, but nevertheless a sweet little smile curved her lips. "You mind telling me the reason you're here? Please?" 

That shy smile grew big on Iris' face, and a familiar warmth flooded her chest. She needed a second to reply. 

"Today is march 19th. I didn't want you to spend your birthday alone", the confession made her feel silly and childish, so she made it while looking away from him. The fear about him disappearing came back, making her hands sweaty. "I didn't want you to spend it without someone that loves you". 

He shook his head and started walking away but she kept talking, trying to say what she wanted before it was too late. "Stop! Please don't leave. I have something for you". He stood still immediately, as if he had a need to do whatever she asked. She searched her pockets, and pulled out an individual muffin, a candle and a lighter. He turned to look at what she was doing and couldn't believe she'd do something like that for him. For him. A small sad smile took him by surprise. It had been a long time since he last smiled. 

When she looked at him again that shadow of a smile was already gone. 

"Seriously?" His voice sounded weird, a little deeper than usual. She shrugged again, with a smile too wide to be completely sincere.

"I know I'm gonna… go in a few months. It'll all be over for me. But I just realized it doesn't have to be over for you. You can get a little bit of extra time. After you lose me. After all you've been through. I just wanted to give you one more birthday together. It's my gift for you". 

"I'm not him, Iris", his voice was broken and quiet now. He didn't really wanted her to believe those words. Even if they were the truth. It wouldn't matter if he couldn't admit it to himself, he wanted her to be there, to believe in him. 

"You are to me. But don't worry, nobody has to know. No one has to find out it's still you in there. No one else needs to know you still like chocolate chips cupcakes, or that you still make wishes before you blow your birthday candles". A soft smirk colored his face, and she thought that maybe, just maybe, that was his new way of smiling. After all he had been through, maybe that was all he had left. 

"I remember this night", he conffesed. "I remember you doing this for him too". 

"For you", she corrected once more, but he ignored her this time. He was so tired of pretending. So, so tired. So he walked closer to her and placed his hands on her delicate wrists before blowing out the fire that burnt in front of her. 

Being so close made him feel her warmth radiating toward him, her humanity slipping through his skin like a disease. A disease that hurt, burnt and felt absolutely amazing, all at the same time. "I remember you insisted on getting me to ask for my wishes", he whispered, finally letting his real feelings tint his voice. "You said it had to be three, but I only had one. You wouldn't let me say it out loud, but I just wanted you to stay with me. With him. I wanted to be able to save you... and I failed". 

She gave him a small sad smile. By the look on Barry's face earlier she had guessed his wish. But the man in front of her was still doing a great job at hiding his face in the shadows and avoiding her gaze. 

"And what did you wish for now?" She asked when she wasn't able to guess. 

And then he finally looked at her, and his eyes were tender and sweet and hurt almost beyond recognition. His gaze caught hers in a way that was way too familiar. If she still had any doubt in her mind that he was Barry, that look on his face washed it away completely. It was him. That truth filled her entire body, and it hurt like hell. Because that was what she could see in his eyes: hurt and suffering like she'd never seen before. He had gone through hell, maybe he still was, and now she could see it so clearly it hurt her too. The weight on his shoulders became heavy on hers too, and his pain felt like her own. Seeing him suffering felt like dying. 

She let the muffin aside, raised a hesitant hand and slowly placed her fingers on the scar on his face. 

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the feeling of her skin against his flood over him. He let her take him to that life he had had so long ago, that life he missed so deeply with every cursed breath he took. Even if it was just for a second, he let her in. 

When he opened his eyes he didn't notice the tears on his face, rolling down his cheeks. "I wish I wouldn't have to keep doing this. I wish I didn't have to hurt you. I wish I could stop". She allowed herself to cry too, but there was a certain stoic taint to her tears, while as his were pure despair. 

She unraveled the distance between them and touched her forehead to his closing her eyes. She tried not to let this whole thing break her, but she knew that that wasn't really an option. It was Barry in front of her. Barry hurting. Barry quietly crying. Barry wishing he could save her, even with the future already written. 

A long moment passed by in silence. Iris' hands were still on his face and in the back of his neck. His were holding onto her jacket to prevent them from trembling because of the fear that whole situation caused him. 

The date was getting closer and closer, moving faster than either of them could have imagined, and it felt like a constant physical presence. Cruel and inevitable. 

"You know what I'd wish for if I were you?" She offered as a distraction he welcomed gladly. He shook his head and his nose touched hers sending an electric charge down his back. He wanted to kiss her so badly that when he felt her lips against his he thought he was imagining it. 

Even with his speed, it took him a second to react and kiss her back, and a few more to wrap his mind around what was happening. A part of him couldn't believe it was real, couldn't understand that the sweetness and softness of her lips were not one of the dreams that tortured him every night. This wasn't a memory of one of the kisses she'd given Barry. This kiss was his. Only his. 

He was pleasantly surprised about the sensations she caused in him. He swore himself without a break that he had idealized her, that the centuries of torture had drove him mad, forcing him to cling to something that in reality could have never lived up to the expectations. No one could ever be as perfect for him as the Iris in his dreams… But now, with her lips on his, with her warmth surrounding him, and one of her delicate hands still on his face, he couldn't help thinking his memories didn't do her justice. 

Her plump lips were softer than he remembered and her movements fitted so perfectly with his own, it was absolutely indescribable. Everything about her made his head swing. 

One of her hands has clinging to his t-shirt on the side of his body, and that gave him the confidence to let his wonder under her jacket to hold her waist. She was an oasis of paradise in the middle of the cruelest of hells, warm bright light in the darkest of times, honey and strawberries on the lips of a starving man. 

He did his best to hold on to the sensation that made him feel like he was finally alive again, but the kiss ended too soon.

After it was over, she rested her forehead on his again. It took her a while to open her eyes. 

"Happy birthday, Barry". She placed her fingers on his lips lightly, silencing his reply. "You'll always be Barry to me", she added with a nostalgic smile. "I don't care what happens or what you have to do. You're the boy I met at school, the guy that heard every one of my secrets, the man who sang to me when he asked me to marry him". 

Before pulling away, she came closer again. This time she softly kissed his scar, his marked eyelid, his jawline, and the tip of his nose. 

"I'm so sorry", he whispered when he looked into her eyes once more, finally allowing himself to truly believe what she was saying: that he was Barry. That she could see him through the scars of his body, his soul and his heart. He allowed himself to cry without restraint, to really feel the pain, the sorrow and shame. But above all else, he felt the love he'd been trying to bury for decades. The love he felt for her. 

He hugged her, holding her in his arms, letting her put together the broken pieces of who he used to be. The way she was holding him made him feel like he was whole again. She was his lifeline, his way back, his home. He clingged to her as if she was the only thing that tied him to that cruel, twisted and beautiful universe. And maybe she was. 

When they pulled away, she touched his chest leaving one of her hands over his heart. She could feel it going strong and fast under her fingers. He put his hands over hers and let her spell flood him, burning and changing him completely. 

"After Barry created us", he began, his voice was broken and quiet, he cleared his throat. "It wasn't long before Savitar found us. When he left me alive I immediately knew who I was. I knew the terrible things I'd do. All the suffering I had gone through was my fault". 

She turned her eyes, unable to withstand the pain he was talking about, but he waited until she looked at him again to continue. "I swore I wouldn't do it. I swore I'd never hurt you, that I was Barry… But no one listened. They knew who and what I was. They knew what would happen and what I'd do. I had already done it. They couldn't even look at me. Can't say I blame them", he gestured towards himself. "I know I would've done the same". 

He went silent for a minute, in which he tried to memorize every detail of her perfection. The sparkle in her big brown eyes, the curls on her hair, the fullness of her lips.

"I guess it was too much for me to handle. With you being gone, and your absence burning like it did. It became a constant reminder of what I was going to do. Each day was like a personal hell of which I couldn't get away. So I decided to make it my own, to embrace it. When I became a killer, Barry found a way to lock me in the speed force. I spent more time than I could even count in there. Each moment reliving what I haven't even done yet". 

"I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that", she was crying openly now, but Barry gave her a nostalgic smile and wiped away her tears while shaking his head.

"I'm the only one to blame for all I've suffered. Somehow at some point I started believing I deserved it. That I had to live what was written to finally scape it, to be free". 

Iris placed her hand over his scar again, tracing lines on his cheekbone with her thumb. He closed his eyes and got lost in the sensation for a moment. Her soft fingers against his rough skin, her warmth, her perfume, the lingering taste of her lips still in his mouth, her voice calling him by the name he had denied himself for so long… She was taking over every one of his senses, and he wouldn't have stopped it, even if he could have.

Slowly and almost against his own will he took that sweet hand off of his face and kissed it gently. 

"I need you to do something for me", he whispered, in a tone of voice that made him sound and feel like that young guy who had been struck by lightning so many centuries ago. 

"Anything", was her answer, and the lack of doubt in her voice made his chest swell with pride.

"Tell Barry to enjoy each day with you. To kiss you every chance he gets, to hold you tight every time he can", she was going to reply, but this time, it was his fingers on her lips that silenced the words. "Tell him that that's my gift for him. I'm giving him my days. The ones I couldn't enjoy. The days I deserved before becoming this". 

"Barry…" her voice broke down in the middle of that word, but she put both her hands on his face again and looked him in the eye. He gave her the most sincere bittersweet smile and planted a brief kiss on her lips. He could taste the tears, but he wasn't sure who they belonged to. 

She closed her eyes and he leaned against her, touching his forehead on hers one last time. A burden had been lifted from his shoulders, and a sentence had been lifted from his heart. "Thank you for reminding me of who I really am, Iris. I love you. More than anything", his quiet voice, weird and distorted, echoed through the place and into her bones. 

"I love you too, Barry", when she opened her eyes, she saw the white bright light consuming him, unraveling him piece by piece. He still had a smile on his lips right before he disappeared, and his last thought was one that he had been waiting for a long time, one that he had chased almost relentlessly: "I'm free"