Prompt: "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while…"

xXx

"Why are you so nervous?" Iris asked, suspicious, as she watched the Flash zipping around and frantically searching for an exit. "We're safe here. Just stuck. We just need to wait until someone shows up to get us out of here—which they will." She pursued her lips thoughtfully and gave him a look of careful consideration as he came to a stop, keeping his distance from her.

"Unless, that is, you've been holding out everyone and you have super-strength or something, too, and you can move all that debris yourself?" she ventured hopefully, tilting her head in thought.

His voice was distorted as usual when he responded, his face a blur, and in the confined space they were in it echoed off the walls and send shivers down her spine.

"No, unfortunately."

"Ah," she sighed, scuffing her shoe on the ground in disappointment. "Didn't think so. Well, looks like we'll be trapped here for a while, then…"

"Looks like it."

Even though it was dark and his face was blurred and slightly turned away from her, she thought she could see him frowning.

"Is that why your nervous? Being trapped?"

"Yeah…" he replied, too distracted to come up with something better. It was half-true, considering he really didn't like confined spaces, but more accurately it would have been 'being trapped here with you'. Not a sentiment he normally applied to Iris, considering he was always more than happy to be in her company, but right now it was really…not ideal.

How was he supposed to keep his secret from her when they were trapped here, when he had nowhere to run, when it could be hours before anyone—and he was banking on Cisco with some new tool that could do some serious heavy-lifting—came to get them out? How was he supposed to keep his face hidden, his voice masked, and not reveal anything when she would be this close, and for so long?

'Or, you know, you could just tell her. She should know. She deserves to know,' a little voice pointed out in his head, the rational side of his mind. And God, he wanted nothing more than to do just that…but the truth was that he was scared.

Scared that she would hate him when he did, that she wouldn't forgive him for keeping it from her in the first place. He wouldn't blame her, but he didn't want to lose her. He couldn't. And scared that Joe would be angry at him for breaking his promise, too, because he couldn't stand the thought of losing the two most important people in his life.

He knew that she was bound to find out eventually, that Iris was sharp and that even if no one told her she'd figure it out on her own and the longer he put off telling her the deeper the hole he was digging for himself, but he just…couldn't. He was too terrified of losing her, of how she would react.

So much for being brave.

"So," her voice broke through his thoughts, and he nearly lost his footing as he jumped back. He had been so caught up in his worry that he hadn't even noticed when she'd gotten so close. "What should we do to pass the time?"

Barry bit his lip—an action that Iris couldn't see, of course, with his face blurred—mulling over the question. He didn't want to do anything where he'd be in danger of accidentally revealing something about himself, especially considering Iris knew him better than anyone, but at the same time, knowing her, he didn't really see any way around it.

"Oooh, I know!" she said excitedly, clapping her hands together. "Let's play truth or dare. I'll go first. Okay, Mister…Flash—Truth or Dare?"

Barry laughed, the sound echoing eerily around them, and decided that it probably couldn't hurt. He'd just have to be careful.

"Alright, fine, Miss West…," addressing her like that sounded strange on his tongue, but he noticed the way it made her smile. "Dare."

"Alright, I dare you to…" Iris trailed off, thinking, and then her eyes lit up. "I dare you to show me who you are. You know, take off the mask and stop doing that thing with your face."

"Nice try," Barry smirked, shaking his head. "You would've asked me the same thing if I had said truth, wouldn't you?"

"Well," Iris shrugged, "you can't blame a girl for trying."

Barry sighed and brought a hand up to run through his hair—only to remember that his hair was still covered by his suit. He wasn't sure if it was the general stuffiness of the place and of being stuck here or because of his guilt, but suddenly the suit felt tight and uncomfortable. His skin itched and burned underneath it, as though begging for release. Yeah, he thought, looking back at her and the hopeful expression she still wore—that was definitely guilt.

"I…can't. I want to, I really do, but it could—it could put you in danger," he said, hating himself for making excuses. He hung his head and added quietly, "And you'd hate me."

Iris eyed him curiously. Did that mean that he was someone she knew? She filed the information away for later use, wondering what it might mean.

"I doubt that," she said, mustering a smile, and then plowed on with her questions. "You do have to answer a truth now, though, since you avoided my dare."

They went on like that for a long time, an easy back-and-forth banter, occasionally straying from their game or lapsing into a comfortable silence. Not for the first time, Iris was struck by how easy it was to talk to him. It just felt comfortable, like she wasn't talking to Central City's superhero but instead to a close friend, even though he evaded most of her questions. It was nice while it lasted, but the thought would make her red in the face with anger when she remembered it later on. ('Close friend', she'd think later, when she could really sit down and think about what she'd discovered. Fuck you.)

Unfortunately, having to vibrate his face and his vocal chords for three consecutive hours without any sort of food or energy boost was really starting to take a toll on Barry—or in Iris's eyes, the Flash—and Iris was starting to take notice.

After he failed to respond to her latest question, Iris squinted at him in concern. She couldn't see his face, but judging by the tired slump of his shoulders and his lack of attentiveness, he seemed really…exhausted.

"You alive there, buddy?"

It was strange to her him groan with his voice all distorted.

"More or less…I'm just…I'm feeling…really…ti…red," he said slowly, feeling faint. His tongue felt thick in his mouth and it was hard to speak, let alone continue to disguise his voice, and there was blackness starting to close in around the edges of his vision.

"Fuck," he whispered to himself, knowing what was about to happen before it did. Not even three seconds later, the exhaustion swallowed him whole, and he keeled over. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was the concern in Iris's eyes, and his last thought was 'I'm sorry'. He wished he could have said it out loud.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Iris blurted out, panicked, as she clambered over to the Flash's side. She hadn't really expected a response, seeing as he was lying face-down on the ground and not making any move to get back up, but it still sent another pang of worry through her. She debated what to do—she wanted to respect his identity, but then again his identity wouldn't really matter if he wasn't breathing.

She took a deep breath and rolled him over, feeling for a pulse. He seemed to be okay, just passed out, and—and her heart caught in her throat as her eyes rested on his face. No.

'You'd hate me.' The words replayed themselves in her mind as she pushed his cowl back, revealing the rest of his face, one so familiar that it made her heart ache. 'You'd hate me.'

She felt the hurt, the disappointment, the anger, the betrayal all welling up in her chest and making her feel fit to burst, making her want to throw up or cry or scream or maybe all three. But what she didn't feel, what she couldn't feel, was hate.

"I wish I could, Barry," she said through her teeth, forcing herself to hold it together and pull the mask back over his face as she heard the distant echo of voices somewhere outside, finally coming to get them out.

"I really, really wish I could."