A/N: Speculation fic for 3x21, although only part of this (the conversation) is something I could actually foresee happening in the episode. SPOILERS, obviously, for everything up until this point. This picks up at the end of 3x20, at Joe's house. Reviews would be much appreciated!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
She knows. She knows his mind is anywhere but in the present, wandering off on it's own trail of thought. His eyes are unfocused, staring at something or maybe at nothing at all, she's not sure. She can practically see his mind working, thinking, tuning out everything Wally is saying about Jesse.
"Barry, are you okay?" Her voice seems to break him out of his thoughts, his eyes refocusing on her. But she knows he's still somewhere else, somewhere lost in thought.
"Yeah, sorry. I'll be right back, alright?" he says, and speeds out of the house without another word.
He does come back, eventually. She's not sure how long he was gone for. (Minutes without him feel like hours sometimes.) But something has changed. He suddenly looks dejected, worn, broken. As if he's been defeated. And as they walk out of the West house, as they walk through the door of their home, he hardly says a word.
.-.-.-.-.
She knows he's lying when he says he's okay, when he brushes off her inquiries with a shrug and a comment about how he's just tired, it's been a long day. For a moment, she wants to say that it's been a long day for everyone. That it's been a long month, a long year, but that yet somehow it still won't be long enough. Somehow there still won't be enough time before that day arrives. But she doesn't mention it, she doesn't bring it up, because they don't talk about it. They don't address the elephant in the room. (By now there's a whole pack of elephants, really.) They don't talk about the date closing in on them, they don't talk about their days together being numbered. They don't talk about the what-ifs, because Barry doesn't want to believe in them. She thinks she's starting to accept that her fate may be set, that it more than likely will happen. But Barry promising to take care of her dad and Wally was as close as she's seen him get to acceptance, and even that was a fleeting moment, interrupted by the buzz of his phone. But each day that passes is another day closer to her last day with him and—
Suddenly she doesn't want to think about this anymore either.
As she climbs into bed, into their bed, she notices a hesitancy in him. It's as if he's suddenly afraid to touch her, as if he thinks he might hurt her.
"Barry, are you okay?" She tries again.
He hesitates, but responds with a simple reassurance; he's okay. He wraps his arm around her, pulling her into his chest and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She knows, still. She's knows he's not okay. But as she falls into the peaceful pull of sleep, her head on his chest, all she's aware of is his warmth and his steady (but fast) heartbeat under her cheek.
.-.-.-.-.
She doesn't know what time it is when she opens her eyes. She's vaguely aware of the sun beginning to peak over the horizon, casting a faint glow through the bedroom windows. What she does know is that she's alone; the warm body that was wrapped around her is no longer next to her in the bed. She slides out from the comfort of the blankets, slipping one of his sweatshirts over her head as she treads softly down the stairs.
She finds him in the kitchen, his back turned towards her and his heading hanging low. He must not have heard her coming down the stairs, because he jumps slightly when she speaks, her voice pulling him out of his thoughts.
"Barry, are you okay?" She briefly wonders if she's said anything other than that phrase tonight.
He turns towards her and lifts his head slightly, and even in the dim light of the sunrise through the windows, she can see the ghost of tears in his eyes. He's avoiding looking at her directly, she notices.
"Yeah, sorry," he replies, and she swears she hears his voice break, "Did I wake you up?"
"No," she says, walking towards him, "it's just hard to sleep when you're not there."
She thinks she can see the slightest hint of a smile at that comment, but it's gone before she's able to see it clearly.
"What's wrong, Bear?" They're standing face to face now, but he still can't seem to look at her. "Barry, talk to me please," she presses on.
He hesitates before he finally answers, his voice thick with emotion. "I saw him, Iris. I know who he is."
Savitar, she thinks, and then she asks. He nods, and her heart begins to pound harder in her chest.
"Who is he?" She asks, but strangely and suddenly, she's not sure she wants to know the answer.
He looks as if he doesn't want to tell her either. But she presses on, against her mind telling her to stop, and so he answers.
It's him.
Something about a time remnant going rogue and—
It's him.
The crack in his voice is unmistakable now as he tries to explain to her the science behind it, tries to explain to her that it's not really him, but—
It's Barry.
It's a future version of him, one that's been stripped of his humanity, or something along those lines, but still—
Savitar is Barry.
Savitar is Barry.
Savitar is—
"Iris. Iris?" This time he's the one to bring her out of her thoughts. But also this time, she's the one who can't seem to look at him. Tears are welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.
"I just — I don't understand," she says. And really, she does kind of understand. She understands the hows and the whats, she understands time remnants and the Speed Force, or at least she thinks she does. What she doesn't understand is how her future killer is also her future husband. (For a moment, she's taken aback by the way her mind phrased that thought.)
"I don't really understand either," he says with a small shrug, his voice barely above a whisper.
"So you're telling me that the man in the suit, the man who's going to kill me… He's you?"
Pain flashes through his eyes at her words and instantly she wishes she could take them back. No you don't, her mind says. He hangs his head in defeat, letting out a broken sigh.
"Iris, I—" he takes a step toward her, to touch her, to wrap his arms around her. And against her better judgement, she flinches and steps back from him. The hurt lingers in his eyes this time, almost as if she'd slapped him.
"I'm, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Did she, though?
His phone buzzes on the table. He stays standing in front of her for a moment, before he reluctantly goes to check the notification.
"It's Cisco," he says, "He needs me at Star Labs."
He turns to face her. She hasn't moved from her position. "Iris?"
She takes a deep breath before she speaks, her back still turned towards him. "Yeah, okay. Go ahead." Now it's her voice that's breaking.
"Are you sure? I can tell him—"
"It's okay, Barry, go," she interrupts him, turning towards him a bit more this time.
There's a pause before he speaks next. "Iris," another pause, "I'm sorry."
He waits another moment, then goes upstairs to change.
He comes back down and stops at the bottom of the stairs, looking towards her. She wonders if he'll try to embrace her again, but then she thinks that she's not entirely sure if she wants him to right now.
And he doesn't. Instead he begins to walk towards the door, turning to face her one more time before she's out of sight.
"I love you, Iris."
She turns her body and lifts her head to look at him fully, and she thinks this is the first time their eyes have really met since leaving her dad's house last night.
"I know," she says after a moment, "I love you too."
She means it, she really does. But as he turns and speeds out the door, she can no longer stop the tears from falling.
.-.-.-.-.
She knows she should be strong. She knows she should trust Barry, because Savitar's from the future, so Barry isn't him. (Not yet, her mind whispers.) But as hard as she tries to ignore it, there's a feeling she's unable to shake. A small voice in the back of her head, reminding her of what she's just been told, setting her thoughts into an endless loop.
Barry is Savitar.
Savitar is Barry.
Barry is Savitar.
Savitar is Barry.
Her mind searches for justification, some sort of logical explanation for this. Some reasoning as to how Barry, her Barry, could ever turn into such a… monster. She tries to stop thinking, tries to distract herself, tries to focus on something else. She tries to go back to sleep for a bit. But her mind is far from rest right now, and the bed is too cold and lonely without him — without Barry.
Barry.
Barry is Savitar.
Savitar is Barry.
And so it continues. She searches for distraction again. She opens her laptop, remembering an article she's supposed to be working on. Something about Music Meister.
Music Meister.
"Music Meister gets six-figure book deal."
Oh right. Another headline coming true. Another step closer to that future coming true. Another step closer to Savitar killing her.
Savitar.
Savitar is Barry.
Barry is Savitar.
She shuts her computer and wishes she could shut her brain off too. But she can't, and it continues the cycle.
Savitar is Barry.
She begins to pace back and forth.
Barry is Savitar.
She wants to scream, she wants to cry, she wants to hit something.
Savitar is Barry.
Her thoughts get louder, her breathing gets harder. Her heart feels like it might pound out of her chest.
Barry is Savitar.
Savitar is Barry.
Barry is— no.
No.
"No," she says to the empty room around her, "No."
No. Barry is not Savitar.
He's not, he can't be. And she refuses to let herself think any differently anymore. Maybe he has Barry's face, maybe he has Barry's past. But he's not Barry. He's not her Barry. Her Barry would never lay a hand on her, her Barry would never hurt her. Her Barry would never kill her.
In the back of her mind, a small, bitter voice whispers the contrary, trying to infuse negativity into her thoughts once again. Trying to erase the newfound hope she's suddenly clinging onto. And in all honesty, she's tempted to give in. She's hesitant to hope. Because hope and faith can be scary things sometimes, especially when they're reliant on other people.
But she decides to hope anyway. She decides to trust him, because she knows him. She's known him since they were ten years old, and she'll be damned if she lets all of that go over a worst-case-scenario future that may not happen. Will not happen, she tells herself.
You're not being realistic, her mind whispers. And really, maybe she's not. Maybe she's being delusional, maybe she trusts too easily, maybe she's just trying to see the light in a situation that seems completely dark. But she knows who her Barry is, and the guy under that armor is far from being him. The man she loves is a superhero, not a villain. He's trying to save her life, not take it. She knows him. So for now, she allows herself to hope and trust, maybe a little unrealistically. This is far from being okay, and she thinks her heart may be getting a bit ahead of her head right now. But she knows, deep down, that this man — this monster — is not, and never will be her Barry. She knows who her Barry is. She knows.