Barry sometimes wondered.
Wondered what if the supernatural didn't exist.
He'd be dead.
Dead as a door nail within seconds.
No goodbyes.
No last thoughts.
No second chances with Iris.
Oh G#d, Iris.
He would have died without ever telling her how he felt.
Without time travel, without The Flash or...the speed force:
Barry Allen would be dead.
Sometimes he wondered.
Wondered why he wasn't dead.
He should be.
There was no reason for the supernatural to exist.
Even if it was something Barry chased after for years.
Maybe he could have survived.
Or maybe he would've died in that coma.
Or stayed in it for years to come.
The world they lived in shouldn't have given Barry that miraculous second chance.
It couldn't be explained.
It just happened.
Happened to a 22 year old forensic scientist whose love life was headed no where.
A normal guy who should be dead.
Barry could still remember the flash.
The flash that hit him.
It was red.
And yellow.
He remembered looking up.
Hearing a crack of thunder, an explosion of light.
Then it all happened so fast.
So fast he couldn't have known.
Known this was probably his last day here on earth.
No more Iris.
No more Joe.
Any fleeting thoughts of Felecity or Green Arrow left the building as soon as that bolt of lightning came in.
The scientist sniffed sharply as he came out of the memory.
Thunder rumbled outside of his apartment window.
He was fast now.
Faster then the thing that changed him.
But Barry was still afraid.
Afraid when it started to rain.
After all, lightening came with most storms.
Barry's hand trembled as he wiped sweat off his upper lip.
After waking up in STAR Labs everything had changed so fast.
Becoming a superhero had taken over his life and before he knew it any conversations of the coma strayed.
There wasn't time.
Wasn't time to be affected.
A large part of him thought having super speed meant he shouldn't be.
He was a meta-human.
But meta-humans were still like everyone else.
And Barry Allen was afraid of lightning.
Afraid of dark clouds looming over Central City.
A sick twisted irony wove its way around his pounding heart that he had become what he ran from.
Barry could out run anything.
Out run lightening.
Heck he was apart of it.
Energy crackled its way through his being as he ran.
Trailing behind on the ground, in the wind...
Barry shot to the other side of the dark living room, unable to get away.
Any sign, any rumble made him flinch.
The Flash flinching meant more lightening.
More not sleeping as the storm tore its way through the hot and humid night.
It did bother Barry that he had been in a coma.
Lost 9 months in 2 seconds.
A white light replaced with Lady Gaga.
Then it all changed.
And he got swept away.
Suddenly waking up 23 didn't matter any more.
Having nightmares didn't mean anything.
What mattered was saving this city.
Being struck by lightening was no big deal.
He was The Flash.
So why was this something he couldn't shake?
Being a meta still meant being very human.
After a few months it became harder to hide.
Looking in the mirror seeing haunted orbs and dark circles underneath.
Hiding the fact his tremors weren't from highly powered vibrations.
The reason why he couldn't breath wasn't the man in The Mist.
His screams weren't from flashes of his dead mother.
Barry was afraid instinctively of any loud noises.
It went beyond rationality.
He went to Google online and spoke with a few lightening survivors.
One was even related to John Diggle.
They told him how they dealt with it.
Dealt with what the accident left in its wake.
Impaired vision.
Heart failure.
Panic attacks.
A stutter...
Speaking with them made him realise this was no different.
Lightning was lightening.
No matter the cost.
No matter the gift.
Seeing that red blur in his memory made the young man wonder.
Wonder If...he was the reason.
Wondered if Barry Allen was what plagued his nightmares.
There would be no running from that.
Fin.