It's strange, but as Barry tucks behind a filing cabinet for protection from Captain Cold, all he can think about is Iris.
Not in an I'm about to die, so let's reminisce about the love of my life kind of way. For starters, he isn't about to die, and for seconds, he isn't even thinking about Iris herself, not specifically.
But perhaps his previous statement could be revised, Barry considered, as he stared at his hand, palm tingling; fingers numb and, horrifyingly, semi-transparent.
Regardless of the outcome of his fight with Cold, Barry had a sinking feeling he was going to die.
Cold's yelling started to sink in, becoming distinct from the buzzing in his ears as Barry remembered that yes, he was the Flash, and he did have a duty to prevent this fine jewelry establishment from being robbed.
Regardless of the embezzling he had yet to pin on its' owners.
Barry called out a response to Cold's yells, knowing that he was unlikely to convince the man that he was fine. He was an observant little thief, and, in some ways, a real friend.
Barry gave the filing cabinet a super-speed shove toward Cold and used the distraction to dart away, vibrating into invisibility. The moment his molecules left the field of vision, the tingling and numbness swept like a wave throughout his body. Barry gasped as he lost feeling in his hands and feet, numbness encroaching steadily upward.
Cued off by the gush of his wind, Captain Cold sent a shot from his cold gun that burned the air as it raced toward its' target.
Barry felt every individual molecule in his body hum and burn, and felt like he was on the verge of diving off a precipice. He couldn't explain it, but he knew with every fiber of his body that if he went intangible now, he'd never go solid again.
Barry took the blast in his shoulder, switching from invisibility to vibrating for warmth as he ricocheted off the wall to punch Cold in the face.
It was a dangerous gambit, and he had to hold himself back when he tried it: if he punched even slightly too hard at these speeds Cold wouldn't survive the experience.
Cold skidded across the floor, and Barry jogged over to kick the cold gun away from its owner. Cold stared up at him, calculating, as Barry rubbed a hand over his shoulder, counting his blessings as the strange intangibility faded.
"Scarlet?"
Barry flashed Cold a small, tight, smile. "Gotcha."
"Another happy ending," Snart remarked carefully. The shriek of sirens blared from outside, which meant their time was limited.
"Feeling a bit slow today, Scarlet?"
"I'll be fine."
"You got hit."
Barry glanced at his shoulder, which had almost finished thawing.
"Everyone gets hit, sometimes."
Cold's skeptical gaze showed even through his visor.
"Ever consider taking a vacation, Scarlet?"
The sound of thudding feet outside had Barry drawing himself upwards and shaking himself off.
"As long as dangerous villains like you endanger our fair city?" Barry grinned. "Never."
Barry dashed out the door, snagging a pair of handcuffs to snap on Cold, just in case, before performing his post-crime perimeter sweep.
The jewelry store seemed in order, destruction aside, and when he raced up the street to check the rest of the stores on the block, Barry slapped a hand over his head. The Jeweler's Exchange, the very place he'd bought Iris her engagement ring, was robbed dry. Naturally.
Barry dashed inside, checking for anything, and discovered nothing more than that he'd been had.
Captain Cold had been his first 'super' villain, and the two of them had come to a quick understanding.
Cold wouldn't kill anyone, or hurt women and children. In return, Barry would ensure that Cold never went to any prison worse than what they had in Central City.
Cold would rob somewhere, Barry would put him away, he'd break out, and they would repeat the process.
It was a surprisingly beneficial arrangement.
Since Cold got to stay in Central City, while Barry got the real murderers extradited, Cold quickly rose to the top of the criminals. Ergo, Central City's crime was ruled by a man who didn't kill and made a conscious effort to target corrupt businesses himself.
Cold was no saint, but he did care about keeping Central an, at least, decent place to live. This meant targeting exploitive individuals and businesses, and, very occasionally, even tipping Flash off to a particularly heinous criminal.
Conveniently, this ability to tip Flash off meant Cold practically had his own attack dog to sic on his competition.
Barry, of course, would always do his best to foil Cold's robberies, but the man was good. Every robbery he pulled, he almost always made off with something. The question was how much Barry could prevent, and how much he could track down and return.
It was almost like a game, or a competition, and Barry usually came out on top.
Shaking his head, Barry dropped his forehead into his palm.
He'd lost too much time tonight. He had been delayed by that encroaching weakness, and Cold's lackey had had time to clean out the entire store, instead of only the most valuable items as he would normally have had time to do.
Wonderful.
As Barry stood there a shiver of cold weakness passed through his body, his fingers tingling as the feeling faded from the tips.
And so here he was. Back to thinking about Iris. Or, more specifically, their future.
It had seemed so bright, only a few weeks ago. Filled with love and life and friends and family and each other… somewhere, in there, Barry knew, there were children.
They both loved Wally so much it hurt sometimes; practically worshiped the ground he walked on. But the idea of giving Wally little cousins to play with and protect was something that had Barry and Iris smiling silly when they thought about it.
Barry's gaze dropped down to his trembling hand, as he reached out to grasp a counter.
His fingers slid through it, intangible, and tears stung his eyes.
Perhaps he was being dramatic. Maybe this was some plot from some villain - Abra Kadabra, perhaps, and he was going to be fine.
But through the numbness in his hands, Barry could feel the future slipping through his trembling fingers, a thousand golden futures turning to swirling dust.