Okay, so I was rereading this story, and I came across an error I made. In chapter two, when Iris is guessing what his name might be, she says, "Hmm, Barry?" I DID NOT MEAN BARRY! I originally wrote Brody, and long story short, it was accidentally switched to Barry. I know that probably isn't a big deal to y'all, but it made me cringe, because if Iris even guessed his name was Barry, that would take away the blinders that she has on about who The Flash is. I mean come on, she already feels a familiarity about him that she can't place. Sorry, I had to get that off my chest. (This note isn't going to mean anything later, because I am about to go back and change it, but for those people who read it while the error was still there, I wanted you to know. XD)

Barry bit down hard on his lip, enough so, that a small amount of blood dripped down his chin. All of his senses blurred together, and everything instantly became out of focus. The screams could have either been from himself, or Iris, but at the moment, he couldn't even tell you his own name, because of the overwhelming amount of pain that was taking over his consciousness, let alone distinguish voices. It wasn't long before the darkness took over, and Barry met up with the ground.

Iris was screaming. Crying. Gasping. Hyperventilating. When Barry hit the hard ground with a THUD, her heart stopped.

She sat there in shock, staring at his bloodied leg. The fresh blood pouring over the dried patches. She just sliced up The Flash's leg with a shard of dirty glass, without anesthetic, when it was already broken, and she just added more pain to it.

"Iris."

Iris was completely zoned out at the moment. She couldn't tell you how long she was staring at his leg, but all her senses were focused on it, so there was no way she heard Barry call her name.

"Iris!"

That time, Iris snapped out of the trance she was in, and looked at him. When did he wake up?

She shook her head repeatedly, and wiped her soaked cheeks. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. So sorry."

"Hey. You did what was needed." Barry leaned forward, and tugged on Iris' arm, guiding her over to his embrace. She sobbed in his chest, which made Iris mad at herself. He should be the one crying, and it should be her who was comforting him, not the other way around. This only proved how strong this man was, and it backed up the fact that he was truly a hero.

Once Iris' crying subsided, things became deafeningly silent. No one said anything, no one moved, and it was finally Iris, who, after a good forty-five minutes, whispered something.

"It's getting hard to breathe." She mumbled into his chest. His once steady breathing was becoming ragged, as was Iris'.

If Iris noticed the silence that followed her remark, she didn't make it known, just continued talking, her words beginning to slur.

"Well, at least if I die, I have my favorite superhero with me." Iris couldn't dare look up at Flash's face at the moment. She didn't want to confirm that he was most definitely unconscious, because it scared her to death that he had left her, but then Iris heard his soft voice in her ear, and she smiled widely, or as wide as she could at the moment.

"I'm the only superhero you know."

"That still doesn't mean you can't be my favorite." Iris played along.

"You realize the definition of favorite is preferred before all others of the same kind, right?" Barry let a soft chuckle escape his lips. His world was starting to become one big blur of color, but he kept it together for Iris. No matter how close he was to blacking out, Barry was going to stay responsive, up until Iris fell unconscious.

"Okay, so out of all the superheroes, you are my favorite." Iris finished, shifting her body so she could hug Barry tighter. The memory of the similar conversation she had with him, made her chest flutter. They really did have something special.

"Wow, even Arrow?"

"Ooh, you got a point, B."

"I thought we agreed not to call me that anymore."

"Nah, you asked me to agree. I never agreed." Iris gave a mischievous grin. "So, do you know who The Arrow is? I mean, is it sort of like The Avengers where every superhero knows each other?

"Yes, I know who The Arrow is, Iris-"

"Is it-"

"And no, I am not telling you!"

"Aw, come on! It'll be my going away present."

Barry frowned. "You aren't going anywhere except out of this mess. You are going to get back to your family, Iris. I promise."

Iris' eyes stung with tears when she really thought about Barry and Joe.

"I never had a chance to say goodbye." She mumbled.

"Hmm?"

"Barry. My dad. I mean, the last thing I said to Barry was I'm going to go meet up with someone, before you and I entered this place." Iris frowned. "What about you? What family do you have here?"

"My dad, my sister, my two best friends." Barry wasn't going to say adoptive dad, and adoptive sister, that would give too much away.

"Aww, you have a sister?"

"Loosely speaking."

Iris nodded, resisting to ask about his use of loosely. "Do they know you're The Flash?"

"No. I have to keep them safe, just like I was supposed to keep you safe."

"I'm sorry for you. Living this life must be difficult. Who do you talk to when you need to vent about your Flash duties? I have Barry, and I could not be more grateful for him."

"I'm...fine." At the moment, Barry felt like his eyelids were at war with gravity, his speech was starting to slow, and so were his words.

"So, you finally going to reveal yourself to me? What better time than under a bunch of rubble waiting for our inevitable death."

"Iris Anne West. I swear, you better stop talking like that!" Barry let his eyelids flutter closed, it was impossible to keep them open, just like it was nearly impossible to stay awake.

"I'm sorry." Iris adjusted her position, nuzzled her head closer to his chest, and listened to his rapid heartbeat. She could have sworn she heard it before, but at the moment she was too consumed by sleep to bother with that thought, along with the other: How did he know my middle name?

The last thing Iris heard were people calling her name, and the last thing she saw was a bright light breaching through the rubble, before finally slipping away.