A/N: Hey! How's it going? Second YJ story and I have to admit it may be marginally better than my first one. Anyway, I'm relatively new to writing for this fandom, so please forgive any inaccuracies. This was my first time writing Bart and Jaime too so I'm not expecting to have portrayed them perfectly. I do think, though, that being slightly different is acceptable because I've aged them up a lot and so they've matured and such. Don't be afraid to leave a review or PM giving me pointers on characterization and such. This is mostly just some fluff I felt my new rising obsession Bluepulse needed because most of the stories about them on here are really sad and/or angsty (not in a bad way, but, you know, I wanted to spread a little happiness). I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Me no own nothing.

~Remnants~

Bart's eyes flew wide to uncover nothing but darkness. For one, horrifying moment, he laid there frozen, unable to breathe or so much as twitch as the images stayed imprinted on his eyelids. He swore he could still see the ash, the soot, the dark, swirling snow, and the constant haze that fell over the horizon, still hear the screams and the agony, smell the rank odor of smoke and blood. The blood…

Movement from beside him startled Bart out of his trance. He turned his head, electric green eyes immediately falling upon the sleeping face of Jaime Reyes. Moonlight streamed through the blinds of the window, falling gently upon the Hispanic's face. Subtle curves and contours were brought out against his skin, shadow pooling in the dips of his cheekbones. In the cool light, his caramel skin radiated a warm glow, and his inky black hair reflected in silvery strands.

For a long time, Bart Allen simply stared, taking in the subtle rise and fall of Jaime's chest and the slight flutter of eyelashes as his eyes flitted beneath their lids. The speedster still could barely believe that this was the Blue Beetle… and yet not. He remembered the Reach tyrant that bastardized his childhood, his home, and then he looked at the man sleeping next to him, the one that he had come back to the past for, that had become more than just a mission… and he knew the two weren't close to being the same.

So then why was there that small prick of fear?

Swallowing thickly, Bart reached his hand out, his fingertips sliding through the moonlight until they touched the gray cotton of Jaime's t-shirt. A subtle warmth seeped through the fabric and onto his skin, and Bart let out a shaky breath. This was Jaime Reyes, not a Reach pawn. He was safe with him.

With that thought, Bart inched closer, the covers rustling as he positioned himself right beside Jaime, settling there like a puzzle piece, like he was made to fit. He forced himself to breathe normally, his fingers gently curling on Jaime's chest as he took in his scent. It reminded Bart of some spice Mrs. Reyes used when making hot chocolate, and it already came to signify what he considered to be home.

"Mm… Cariño?" Jaime stirred, his dark eyes squinting open through the haze of sleep. "Something wrong?"

Bart shook his head, his cheek and ear rubbing against the copper-skinned arm that served as his pillow. "No, it's all crash, her-man-oh. Go back to sleep."

Jaime gave a small grunt before he shifted, body moving to huddle against Bart's. His free arm draped itself comfortably over Bart's waist, his leg tangling with one of his before he left a light kiss on the auburn's forehead and was fast asleep again.

The speedster smiled softly as he watched Jaime's restive face. How was it that he could still feel scared of such a wonderful person? He loved Jaime, and that much would never change. Still… the sight of the Blue Beetle remained a constant plague on his mind. It had gotten better over the years after being with Jaime, to the point where it rarely bothered him, but he would never forget the roar of 'meat!' amid the ruins of Earth and the constant weight of the collar at his neck. Why couldn't he just forget? He had stopped that future, hadn't he? And now Jaime Reyes would never become the Blue Beetle of his past. The only thing that memory was doing was tainting their chance at a life together. Why did it still have to haunt him when it no longer mattered?

But with a sigh, he realized that he was being a bit selfish. He should never, and could never, completely forget. He was the only one that remembered that version of the future. It would be wrong to forget all the destruction, all the people he had ever known even if they didn't know him anymore. He would never forget…

Leaning forward, Bart placed a small kiss on the corner of Jaime's mouth. Then, he relaxed beside him, their foreheads inches apart and noses just skimming each other. It didn't matter if his past still haunted him. His past would always be his past and that was something he would own because it was his duty, but he would never let it become his future, Jaime's future. He came back to fix it and that was exactly what he was going to do.

With that thought, he closed his eyes and fell asleep in his lover's arms.

Bart was ashamed to say that was only how it began: with the nightmares. Since the day he arrived from the future, he slowly became accustomed to living in a time primitive to his own and the nightmares came less and less. Dating Jaime seemed to have helped considerably—his fears had practically grown nonexistent when they moved in together and started going to college. Things didn't even resemble the world he had known to be controlled by the Reach, and so his mind relaxed into an easy, everyday routine. But that didn't mean the dreams left him for good. Every once in a while, he would wake up in a cold sweat, fragments of memory still replaying behind his eyelids. When he could help it, he kept quiet and reminded himself of where and who he was before either drifting off to sleep hours later or getting up early because he couldn't sleep, all the while keeping it from his boyfriend (because really, Jaime didn't deserve to be reminded of what caused Bart to come back in the first place). But there were times when he couldn't help it, and Jaime would wake up because of him, startled by a sob or a jolt in his sleep, and Bart was a little, if a bit selfishly, grateful. He never liked letting Jaime see him like that, but having the Spanish-speaking male there to hold him and whisper comforting words in his ear made everything so much easier. And in the end, it would all make Bart smile ironically, maybe even triumphantly, because of the simple fact that he found comfort in the person that he had once been his greatest tormentor.

After all those years, he hadn't thought his past affected Jaime too. Of course, he just had to be wrong.

He realized his mistake after coming home one day from school. As soon as he reached the apartment building he couldn't keep himself from using his super speed to zip through the halls and burst through their front door. Jaime was due back from a week-long mission in Bialya and Bart had started to miss him within minutes of his departure. He had wanted to go too, but Wally had already been assigned and there wasn't really a need for two speedsters. Anyway, now he was desperate for some greatly needed Bart/Jaime cuddling and movie-marathoning. Possibly other… activities, but, you know, whichever way things rolled. He wasn't called "Impulse" for nothing.

"Jaime!" Bart exclaimed as he burst through the door, a wide grin splitting his face as he practically threw his bag to the ground and zipped from room to room, searching for his beloved boyfriend. In the span of a second, he checked the kitchen, the bathroom, and their bedroom. How he hadn't thought to check the living room first, he had no idea, but that was where he found Jaime, laying on the couch face-down and fast asleep, bag resting on the floor and shoes laying messily beside it, obviously kicked off.

For a fraction of a second, Bart considered pouncing on the Hispanic's back in greeting, but reasoned that Jaime needed the rest and somehow (miraculously) reined himself in. Instead, he resigned to rest his elbows on the back of the couch, watching his boyfriend sleep with a small smile on his lips. It really was good just to see him back.

But as Bart stood there for a while longer, studying the hoodied man on his couch, his smile slowly faded. Suddenly, he noticed the way Jaime's muscles tensed, how his face pinched and head twitched, like he was having a nightmare.

The speedster's heart clenched in his chest, sadness and sympathy compelling him to speed around to the front of the couch and sit at Jaime's side. Worry shone in his bright green eyes as he gazed down at his beloved. Gently, he laid a hand on his back, feeling warmth seep through the fabric beneath his fingers as he began to rub soothing circles into the taut muscle.

Almost as soon as he began, Jaime started awake. Next thing Bart knew, he slammed to the ground, palms and back stinging as he stared down the barrel of a gun. Jaime crouched on one end of the couch, dark eyes wide and locked on the speedster, coppery hand bracing his arm as blue armor encased it in a plasma cannon.

For a long moment, neither of them moved, Bart frozen on the carpet and Jaime panting, tensed and poised to strike.

"…Bart?" Jaime shoved the cannon down. His eyes were wide, confusion and horror shining through his irises like light through cracked glass.

"H-Hey, Blue," the younger male answered. He had tried to keep his tone light and easy-going, but inwardly cringed at the tremor. The sight of the familiar blue weapon pointed at his face had brought unbidden memories.

"Bart… Cariño," the Hispanic breathed, his voice hitched as his armor retracted. He stumbled down from the couch, hands reaching out for the speedster only to recoil like he had been burned. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"It's ok, Blue. You just came back from—"

"No, it's not," Jaime interjected, startling Bart into a rare bout of silence. The taller male locked gazes with him, nut brown meeting chartreuse desperately, earnestly. "I scared you—I saw it…! I scare you."

"Jaime…" Bart started, but floundered with what to say, how to deny it, as he saw the knowing look in Jaime's eyes. He knew there was no talking his way out of it.

"I know what you dream about, ese," the raven began quietly as if detecting his thoughts, husky accent strengthening like it did whenever he was distressed. "It's not hard to figure out. You dream about… about me. And I know, it's not me—or it won't be—but… I can't help thinking it could be. In the future you're from, I hurt you, and that means I'm capable of doing it now. In fact, I did! When I was controlled by the Reach, I saw the bruises Bart!"

"…This is what you were dreaming about?"

For a moment, Jaime stood, unmoving as his eyes never left Bart's face. And then he collapsed, sitting heavily on the couch behind him, head hung low. "Sometimes I dream I'm still moded, and the world is like how you described it. And… and every time, you're always…"

Jaime didn't continue, but from his tone, he didn't need to. Bart could tell how bad it was just from his face.

The speedster felt sadness sweep through his heart. He had never wanted his boyfriend to have to go through anything like this. He didn't deserve it—no one did, really. It was stupid not to have noticed this before. How could Bart have missed it? He knew Jaime better than he knew himself, he was his everything and yet…

For once, Bart moved slowly, taking one step at a time toward Jaime. It only took seconds, but to Bart, to a speedster, it felt like hours. Finally, he reached him, standing directly in front of his hunched form. Bart raised a hand and gently rested it on Jaime's head. The older male looked up at the touch, meeting Bart's kind, smiling eyes as he ran his fingers through his soft, raven-black hair.

"I'm sorry, cuh-reen-yo. That's not very crash, is it? But you shouldn't have to worry about that. I came to fix things, and that's what I did. You aren't that person, I'm sure of that, and I'll make sure you never will be. I promise."

"But still…" Jaime insisted quietly, gaze still fixed on Bart's face. His arms lifted toward the auburn-haired male, and Bart didn't resist as the Hispanic pulled him to sit sideways in his lap. Strong, lean arms circled his waist, warmth spreading through to him as Jaime held him to his chest, face pressed into his shoulder. "Lo siento," that husky voice murmured. "Lo siento… lo siento…"

Bart smiled softly as he felt Jaime press kisses into his shoulder and across his collarbone. "What are you apologizing for, es-ay? You didn't do anything. I know you would never hurt me, and even if you did, it wasn't on purpose. You're a good person." He leaned into him affectionately, fingers still running through his short hair.

"Gracias, Cariño," Jaime said, then chuckled a little as he looked back up to meet Bart's eyes. "You're accent is still terrible, by the way. Couldn't you at least try to fix your pronunciation?"

"Hmm, I could," the speedster answered with a smile, "But I want to leave that to you. Spanish sounds a lot sexier coming from you."

"De verdad? Voy a tener que enseñarle mas a menudo."

"Ugh, God, I love you," Bart proclaimed, not knowing what that meant and not caring as he wrapped his arms around Jaime's neck and kissed him. The lip contact lasted all of three seconds—three sweet, wonderful seconds—and when they pulled away, they smiled warmly at each other.

"Welcome home, Jaime."

"It's good to be back, mi corazón. Bialya was no fun without you."

"Psh. I'll bet! And life definitely wasn't crash with you not around! Promise we'll do stuff together now that you're back."

"Sure. One thing first though," Jaime replied, making Bart blink as the arms around him tightened and pulled him closer. "Promise me you won't hide it next time you have a nightmare and tell me, okay?"

The speedster scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "You know about that?"

He was given a small smile. "I know you, Bart Allen. You can't hide much from me."

The auburn pouted slightly. "I know you too. How come I just found out about yours then?"

"I'm better at hiding things, ese. You're too impulsive to actually do that."

"Ha ha, good one," Bart deadpanned before saying defensively "Not that that's a bad thing. It got us our first date, didn't it?"

"True," Jaime conceded fondly, before his expression sobered again. "Seriously, though. Promise? I want to be able to help you."

The younger male dropped his defensive look and instead smiled fondly. "'Course you do. The dreams will never go away though, you know that right? They're about my past, and that's something that will always be a part of me. But that doesn't mean I can't be happy. So yeah, I promise. Cuz you make me happy. We can deal with our problems together."

"Good," the Hispanic said, nuzzling into his shoulder once again. "I'm glad you're so open with me now. It used to be that you were always hiding how you felt."

"Well, yeah! Fate of the world resting on my shoulders! But yeah, I guess you're right… You've made me go soft!"

"Good," Jaime repeated, and it was then that Bart noticed his eyes were closed, his body looking a little too relaxed.

"Hey, why don't you shower and get some rest? You did just come back from a week-long mission in the desert."

"Only if you come with me," the older requested, voice muffled by the fabric of Bart's jacket as he didn't bother to lift his head.

"For the shower or the bed part?"

Jaime finally looked up at him, lips twitching with amusement. "Both are fine with me. But don't expect anything cuz I'm exhausted."

"Ugh, fine!" Bart groaned, briefly throwing his head back dejectedly and hanging off Jaime's neck. "But only if I get a lap dance later."

This made the Hispanic flush slightly, and the speedster took his time smiling innocently at him before his boyfriend finally muttered "You're a piece of work, you know that?"

"Yeah, I mean, the best things are."

Jaime shook with soft laughter, and Bart smiled widely, acknowledging how much he missed that sound. He leaned and placed a quick kiss to the caramel skin at Jaime's temple before standing up.

"And I should know, cuz I time-travelled for you."

He watched as Jaime stood, still smiling as he wrapped an arm back around his waist. "You must have really missed me."

"You have no idea. Just ask Tim. Or anyone, really."

Nut brown eyes rolled. "Why am I not surprised?" he asked, arm removing itself from the short auburn as he turned and headed down the hallway toward the bathroom. "Coming?"

"You know it, her-man-oh!" a bright voice suddenly piped up from his shoulder.

Jaime found himself smirking and rolling his eyes again. "You're still getting nada."

Bart cursed, a tinge of disappointment coloring his nonchalance. But as soon as he entered the bathroom with Jaime, that disappeared. And later, when the two of them lay in bed, Jaime holding him and using his chest as a pillow, the speedster was brimming with happiness.

It was good to have his Jaime back home.

A/N: So yeah. Did you love it? Hate it? Want to smash your computer because God was that awful?! Please tell me! That would be greatly appreciated. And maybe you could recommend some Bluepulse stories for research/enjoyment? I can't seem to find enough to fulfill my fangirl urges with.

Hope to see you again!