Sorry for the wait, I hit a fork in the road with this story, and had to think long and hard on which way I was going to take it. Thanks to everyone for all the reviews and support! It really does help with motivation! Lol, I keep thinking back to how this story started, and where it is now. It changed drastically...
SEVEN DAYS PRIOR
Dizzy.
Cold.
Hazy.
Barry's joints ached. A searing pain radiated up and down his left leg. His head throbbed, his heart raced, and his suit was uncomfortably wet against his clammy skin. Something was wrong. Barry knew that for sure, but his brain was too foggy to know exactly what was going on at the moment. He could hardly remember the last thing he was doing.
Running.
Barry had been running. Why, was unclear, but so was everything else at the moment.
The space he was in was dark, and the ground underneath him felt grainy and uneven. He was definitely not in the comfort of his own bed, but that was already ruled out when he woke with a splitting headache, and the feeling that the contents of his stomach were going to empty out onto the ground next to him, if he continued to shuffle.
That hot stabbing sensation in Barry's leg only grew worse the more he thought about it.
Barry's survival instincts must have kicked in then, because, much to his body's chagrin, he lunged upright, suddenly gasping for air.
Where the hell was he!?
When Barry's eyes adjusted finally, and the blurry lense over them cleared, he took in a better look at his surroundings.
He was in a dimly lit cell, with three rock walls, and a sandy ground. Barry almost laughed when he saw that the only thing keeping him from escaping was the iron bars that sported as the fourth wall. Did they not realize he was the freaking Flash?
Barry hopped up from the ground, and instantly regretted it; a wave of nausea and lightheadedness swept over him, and he nearly toppled over. That terrible pain in his leg wasn't helping either.
Barry stumbled over to the bars, gripped them tightly with his hands, and tried to vibrate.
Tried.
Of course something was dampening his speed! It would be too easy if Barry could just walk out of this hellhole.
It was then that Barry noticed the faint blue glow near the ground, and he let out an irritated groan when he realized what it was.
It explained the burning sensation in his leg.
A damn power dampening cuff was secured to his ankle.
"HEY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT WITH ME!?" Barry screamed, and winced when the throbbing in his head worsened. He most likely had a concussion.
Still, Barry pushed passed the pain, and continued. "WHY THE HELL AM I IN HERE!?" When only his echo responded, Barry hobbled over to the far wall, and slumped down against it. He was in so much pain right now, and considering how dark it was in the room, it was most likely night, giving Barry an excuse to sleep it off.
He would figure out what exactly was going on when his mind cleared.
-ooo-
SIX DAYS PRIOR
Barry woke with a jolt, eyes shooting open, wide with fear. The question that lingered in his mind before passing out, still remained.
Where was he?
The room remained dark, and a light breeze filtered through the bars, though Barry was sure that it wasn't the cool air that sent a chill down his spine, and caused the hairs on his neck to stand.
His leg, once burning, felt stiff now, and he could feel the weight of the dampening cuff on his ankle, like a brick secured tightly to it.
Barry concluded that he must have a concussion, if he still felt disoriented. He resisted the urge to peel away his cowl, and massage the throbbing bump that had formed on his head.
With as much strength as he could muster at the moment, Barry pushed himself up off the ground slowly. He started on his hands and knees, and then grasped the wall for support.
When Barry got to his feet, he was almost sure that he was going to pass out again. Another dizzy spell hit him hard. Still, he persisted and made his way to the iron bars.
Another tingle ran down his spine, just as his eyes landed on the man walking towards his...cage.
Barry felt a sour taste on his tongue, and his blood boiled with rage.
"Mr. Allen. Glad to see you've finally decided to wake up."
"Eiling." He growled through clenched teeth. Barry wasn't sure how menacing he looked at the moment, considering he was leaning heavily against the bars, and his body still looked sluggish.
His thoughts were only confirmed when Eiling threw his head back, and laughed darkly. "Oh, look at you, Flash. So helpless. That drug really looks like it took a toll on you. I have to apologize for that, you were just so squirmy."
So he was drugged? No concussion? Okay, concussion was still on the table, but Barry was certain this terrible feeling wasn't from that.
"What do you want!?"
"Oh, I want a lot of things Mr. Allen. Power, domination, war...but at the moment, I only have eyes for a particular speedster."
"Go to Hell." Barry slammed a fist against the thick bars, and took a weak step backwards.
"You really aren't very tough looking in this cage, with that cuff on your ankle, so you can drop the act, Flash.
"Why the hell did you bring me here!?"
"Information."
"Information?" Barry scoffed, and crossed his arms. "You aren't getting anything out of me, Eiling."
The general nodded his head thoughtfully, and grinned.
"I have my ways. So tell me, Barry, how fast can you run exactly?"
"Like I said, go to Hell." Barry grit.
"Interrogation can go two ways, Mr. Allen. You can cooperate, and make this easy, or we can use force."
Barry felt his gut churn with unease. He knew all he had to do was stand his ground long enough for the team to find him. Knowing that, Barry only glared at the man in front of him.
-ooo-
PRESENT DAY
Joe knocked lightly on Barry's bedroom door, taking in a deep breath to regain his composure. He was going to need it if he was going to tell his daughter the truth. She still thought Barry went to go stay at Cisco's house, because of their falling out. Joe wanted to wait to share the truth with her, just in case Barry turned up. Iris didn't need to know he was missing if they could avoid it. So, Joe gave it a week. That week came and went much too quickly, the only evidence he and Eddie seemed to have come up with, was the inconclusive blood sample found at the last place Barry's suit tracker picked up, before he fell off the grid.
Iris had been in his room a lot lately, sulking in her own guilt. She felt terrible for saying what she had, and even worse that Barry still hadn't come home yet. It just proved how hurt he'd been. Iris realized that she really had no idea what Barry was going through. She couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like to lose nine months of her life, and she really needed to understand that Barry might be having trouble coming to terms with everything. Iris didn't need to be yelling at him for being a bad friend, if anything, she was the bad friend. She needed to give him time, when Barry was ready, he would come to her.
When Iris heard the knock on the door, she practically jumped out of bed, and raced to open it.
"Barry!?"
Joe felt awful when he saw the smile on Iris' face fall the moment she saw that it was him, and not her best friend. Iris stepped aside, and let her dad into the room.
"How are you holding up, babe?"
"I don't deserve to be asked that. I feel terrible." She plopped down on his bed, and looked at Joe sadly. "Has Barry said anything to you about me? Has he told you how he's feeling? Should I go over to Cisco's and apologi-"
Joe held out a hand to stop Iris. "We've gone over this, sweetie, he's not going to want you to go over and talk to him." The detective realized that he needed to stop adding on to the lie that he had created over the past eight days, and begin to untangle it.
Iris must have noticed the way her dad's face fell, and she placed a hand over his. "Dad, are you alright?"
Joe shook his head, eyes starting to water. "No, Iris, there's something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you the moment that it happened."
Iris felt her chest constrict, her stomach twist with a nervous flutter. There was something terrifying about the way Joe was looking at her, that said something really bad happened.
"Dad?"
-ooo-
ONE DAY PRIOR
Barry couldn't tell you how long he'd been there, being beaten everyday, tortured for information that he continually refused to give. Blood speckled the rock walls, and sandy ground, his skin was colored with bruises, and his suit had multiple tears in it now, all had a deep cut underneath that bled profusely. Barry was downright miserable.
Either Eiling, or one of his men, would come down in the morning, and slide a small bowl of mush for food. Being a speedster, it wasn't enough. His stomach growled, and terrible pains made him want to keel over, but if he were to tell Eiling about his metabolism, he would be doing exactly what that monster wanted: for Barry to give into the pain.
Eiling came every hour or so to offer him a chance, and when Barry refused, it went one of two ways:
Cattle prod to the chest, or fist to the face, and boot to the gut.
Barry found that he spent most of his time curled in on himself in the far corner of the room.
The power dampening cuff on his ankle seemed to not only drain him of his powers, but also of his energy. Barry seemed to be extremely exhausted most of the time, though that could just be because of the regular assault sessions he had with Eiling everyday. Maybe a mix of both.
He truly thought this would just go on forever until he either died, the team found him, or he finally caved. The first two seemed most likely. It wasn't until Eiling came in later that day, that he started to consider his third option.
"You know, Mr. Allen. I've kept tabs on you. On your friends, your family, who you spend the most time with, and I couldn't help but seem to be drawn to this particular person."
Barry gazed up at the man from where he was slouched against the wall, and his eyes landed on a picture that he slid into the cell.
Barry crawled over to it, and picked it up.
"Eiling, what is this!?" He felt his heart rate pick up, and the blood drain from his face. "WHAT IS THIS!?" The speedster screamed, lunging up from the floor.
"Leverage." The word rolled off Eiling's tongue with a sour bite to it.
The picture was one of the many rendezvous The Flash had with Iris on the rooftop. This one in particular was one where she had her hand cupping his cheek, and his hand was around her waist. The picture was taken from the security camera on the roof. Barry had no idea there was even one up there.
"I'll give it to you, Barry. You've won this round, torture doesn't seem to work on you, does it? How about family?" He narrowed his eyes. "Iris West-"
"Don't say her name."
Eiling cruelly continued. "Iris Anne West. Adoptive sister, hm? You care for her, don't you, Flash?"
"Eiling, I swear to God!"
He didn't say anything in response, just smirked wickedly, and tossed another three pictures through the bars. Barry couldn't dare look at them, this bastard seemed to already have the mind to tell him what they were, anyways.
"Jitters. The roof. The streets. You hang around her quite often as The Flash. Oh, but what about these?" Another few pictures were scattered on the sand in front of Barry, who stared numbly at them. "CCPD, Jitters, CCPN. Barry Allen loves his Iris West."
"Stop it."
"Listen closely, Barry, everyone has their breaking point, and I will find yours."
With that, the general turned on his heel, and started to walk off.
"Eiling! I swear if you touch her! If you lay a hand on her, I will kill you! Eiling! EILING!"
-ooo-
PRESENT DAY
Joe stepped out of the elevator in the precinct, and walked to Eddie's desk, bracing his hands against it as he took in multiple deep breaths. Eddie quickly stood from his chair.
"Joe? You don't look too good. What happened?"
"I told her, Eddie. I told Iris."
"I take it by that face that she didn't take it well?"
Joe glared up at the younger detective, and couldn't prevent the tear that rolled down his cheek. He slowly turned his head to the side, revealing to Eddie the large, hand-shaped bruise that blossomed on his face.
She got violent.
"Ouch. That bad, huh?"
Joe shook his head slowly, and straightened his back. "No, that wasn't even the worst part. It was having to explain to her why The Flash wasn't looking."
Eddie's eyes widened suddenly, and he stumbled back.
"Y-you told her!?"
"No. That's the thing, I could've. I could have stopped the lies right then and there, but instead I told her he was busy helping out a friend in Starling. That lead to multiple screaming matches, and her demanding that I contact him, and get his ass back over to his city. She's furious with The Flash now." Joe sighed, and sat down, burying his face in his hands. "God, I should've just told her! Look at this mess we've gotten ourselves into."
Eddie nodded understandingly, and placed a hand on Joe's back. "Why don't you tell her the truth? Stop this nonsense before anything escalates...further."
"It wouldn't be right. It should be Barry. It's his secret to tell, and frankly, I don't know how."
"West!" Singh called, interrupting their conversation. "We need you over here!"
-ooo-
Iris had drowned herself in work all day, trying to keep her mind off of Barry. It was late now, half past eleven. Everyone had cleared out and gone home by now, but not Iris. She stared blankly at the bright screen in front of her, rereading the same word over and over again. Ironically, it was 'safety'. She just couldn't focus.
Barry.
Eight days. He had been missing for eight goddamn days, and she only found out today. The thought of what her last words were to him made her want to scream, and cry, and punch something until her fists bled, and her bones cracked.
There was a voice in the back of her head, one that kept reprimanding her, one that kept telling her what she should have said, what she should've done.
She fought with Barry. She never fought with him, and now he was missing and possibly dead.
Iris dropped her head on her desk, and let out a small scream, and sobbed loudly. She didn't know how to handle something like this.
Barry was gone.
The following actions that Iris did, she blames her body being in autopilot. She stood from her chair, and grabbed the monitor, slamming it to the ground, watching it shatter. The next were all the organized papers. Those found their way to the ground as well, scattered and messy.
Iris screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Barry was gone.
Iris grabbed her phone, and pulled up her blog. She didn't care if her dad said The Flash was in Starling, she needed to at least try.
Please. We need you here. It's urgent. Please come back to your city!
She sent that message with shaky fingers, and chucked her phone at the window. Iris wasn't normally a violent person, and yet somehow in the past few hours, she had slapped her dad, deserving, and destroyed her work, and company property. It's what Barry's absence did to her. The only time she ever got this violent was when he was in a coma. She went home that night, and tore apart her room before seeking solace in Barry's.
Now, pretty much worn to the bone, Iris picked up her phone, packed her purse, and headed for the door. She didn't care about the mess she left, the only thing on her mind was Barry.
Barry was gone.
Her last words replayed in her head like some sick person torturing her, only the person torturing her, was herself.
"It didn't change me, Iris. I'm still Barry."
"Yeah, well you aren't my Barry."
Iris let another loud cry escape her lips, as she pushed through the glass doors, and walked out into the dark night.
The nagging voice in the back of her head carried on as she walked to her car. It was parked a ways away from the building, the parking lot was small, and people filled it rather quickly. Iris had to park in a vacant lot by an abandoned movie shop.
Why didn't you say something to him!? Why did you leave!? You could've turned around and hugged him tight. Apologized, told him how much you loved him!
Iris was a good hundred feet away from her vehicle now, and she locked her gaze on it, setting the path she was going to take to get to it. Walking in the dark always made her uneasy, it's why she made sure to come to work a good fifteen minutes early, and get the best parking space. Today, however, she missed half of the day from crying in Barry's room, until she decided work was what she needed.
Fifty feet away, and that's when she heard the heavy footsteps trailing behind her. If Iris didn't have a detective for a father, she would've shrugged it off, and kept walking, but something made her hairs raise, and her pace quicken. Something wasn't right.
Iris dared to sneak a quick glance over her shoulder, and the sight made her nearly scream.
Two men, both in all black, were practically jogging towards her, something in hand. This was one of the days Iris wished she had taken up on her dad's offer to carry a gun in her purse.
Twenty-five feet away, and she knew she was screwed, when an arm suddenly grasped her around her waist, and the other brought a cloth to her mouth. Kicking did nothing, screaming did nothing, and Iris could only describe the emotion that coursed through every vein in her body, as complete and utter fear.
Iris heard a click, and it rang through her ears. The cold press of a gun nudged against her head and an arm snaked quick around her neck.
"Don't. Move." A gruff voice whispered in her ear. Iris couldn't if she wanted to. She was paralyzed.
She wondered for a split second if this was what happened to Barry. If some random strangers came up to him from behind, and…
Iris choked out a sob, her thoughts trailing to a darker, more morbid side.
This was how she was going to die.