Sitting on the edge of the universe, The Flash gazes into the abyss.

The multiverse rests at its back, the Speed Force at its fingertips. Reaching out, Flash brushes its hand across the starless barrier between them, reverential and soft. Beyond the wall, home is alive and well, unlike the multiverse, which is expiring.

The Flash respires airless space and presses a hand flat against the edge of the universe. Then it removes it, waiting, knowing, aware that its time is almost up.

Oh, how it has loved this place.

It loves the stars, fading behind it. It loves the cumulative memories of a quintillion lives. It loves the way the universe sounded when it was alive. It loves the way the worlds gave and took and lived.

It was there when they died. It was there when Barry died, too. It's been sitting here, patient, host-less, ever since, waiting for the end of the multiverse.

It's been here almost a trillion years.

And now the multiverse is dying and Flash leans its forehead the wall. It projects to the last worlds, standing on empty, lifeless plains, on broken planets, on dead stars, and insists to their departed, I will not forget you.

Flash remembers their names and buries their remains in a garden that will never grow. The universe is dying: the rain no longer comes. Life insists on resting. The Flash drifts restlessly onward.

It encounters The Tall One on the last world, kneeling over a single seedling cradled in its broken fingers, defeated from the weight of carrying so many souls to their resting place. The Flash edges closers and The Tall One brings the seedling close to its mouth and breathes over it.

And for a moment The Flash believes the universe will live, that it will carry on and on and on, and Flash will watch it forever, and then a tear slips off The Tall One's face, and the seedling turns to ash.

Opening its palms, The Tall One lets the remains settle on the earth. It bows for a moment, overcome, and Flash averts its gaze. Then The Tall One rises, turns towards it, and holds out a hand.

Flash steps forward hesitantly and clasps it, and the broken fingers heal, and The Tall One closes its eyes.

Flash stares as The Tall One steps back, gazing with somber white eyes at the ashen space around them. It kneels and then lies on its side, the seedling's ashes still visible in the space beside it, and it closes its eyes, and with a grateful exhale it rejoins the Earth at last.

Flash opens its eyes and there is nothing left, no barrier, no space to speak of. Terror clutches it, suspended in space. There is nowhere to go, and even The Tall One, The Dreaded One, The Ephemeral One is no more. This emptiness is something it has never known, a sense of passing it has never wanted.

This, it realizes, as its breathing labors, and its heart beat slows, and its very essence dims, is what it means to outlast. To watch over every last creature, and every last light, until there is nothing to watch over it.

The Flash closes its eyes, feeling its strength fading, and wonders if this was how it felt, to realize that it was over, and it was Over, and It was Over.

It's over, it thinks.

It's Over.

And then it falls asleep forever.

. o .

It's … dark.

And quiet.

The Other turns in a slow circle and melts in relief when it sees The Tall One, hearty and hale, at the edge of the grass.

Lifting a hand, The Tall One commands, Come.

The Other runs towards it, lunging once it's close and capturing it in a barrel-rolling embrace. There are those who fear The Tall One, who rear back at its mere mention, who daren't breathe its name, but The Other feels nothing short of joy at the sight of it.

You're-here.

The Tall One rises and The Other rises with it, regarding each other. Flash, The Tall One says.

Black-Flash, The Flash replies.

The edge of the universe rests at their backs, and Flash feels a humming potential, a great, embraceable, inescapable joy.

Home.

Thunder crackles and The Tall One turns towards it. The Flash hesitates.

The Tall One looks back at the multiverse and then at The Flash.

Are-you-certain?

Flash reaches out towards the barrier. Always.

The Tall One steps back, I'll-give-you-a-head-start, and Flash crosses the line at the edge of the universe.

Life abounds.