Summary: They're stronger together. Even with all the trauma they've suffered and their needs at the moment being so different... they're stronger together. They're Iris and Barry and they're going to be okay some day.
Trigger Warnings: Rape - Mirror Iris/Barry
Notes: Because I have no faith in the show writers actually dealing with their confirmation that Mirror Iris raped Barry... I'm writing this to try and deal with it myself. (But I keep thinking of Cisco and Mirror Kamilla and Rob and Mirror David and... this is such a mess and it's probably not going to get any acknowledgement on the show at all.)
Putting the Shattered Pieces Back Together
Iris watches her seduce Barry with delicious pancakes and it seems almost like a joke at first. A horrible, black comedy sort of thing. Surely Barry would figure it out, realize something was wrong...
But then night falls. Barry and that thing with her face go into their bedroom.
"Iris, I'm not really..." Barry hesitates, not undressing all the way. Sensing something wrong, but not clear on what it is. Iris knows he can't hear her, but that doesn't stop her as she tries to tell him over and over that it's not her.
"Please, Barry, I want you..." The mirror duplicate kisses him gently. Her hands curl around Barry's shoulders like Iris herself might've. "I know I've probably changed. That rebooting the multiverse made some things about me - about us - different and that's been causing us some friction lately. But I want to show you how much I still love you, because words are not enough."
"Iris," Barry murmurs her name and, god, when he uses that tone it's like a benediction. Usually.
Iris screams and rages and cries, falling to her knees and pounding on the glass as that bitch rapes her husband while wearing her face.
Barry pulls away from the kiss against his cheek and ducks his head. "Iris, I'm sorry, I can't..." his voice cracks.
Iris nods even though he won't see. "I understand," she says and takes few steps back. Sits on the couch and waits for his breathing to even out. Her touch won't be comforting right now.
"I'm sorry," Barry tells her, voice ragged. "I'm so sorry. I... I thought she was you, I swear, I thought she was you." He looks up, expression distraught. "But when you... she... I never meant to cheat..."
"You didn't cheat on me, Barry. You thought you were having sex with me. Your wife. But she wasn't me and that makes what she did to you rape. Not sex." God, Iris has no idea if she's handling this right. If she should have waited to say it so bluntly, so starkly. But it makes Barry look up her, face shattered and blotchy from tears already.
"You are not at fault for what she did to you. And I know it's not going to be easy, for either of us, to move past this. If you need me to sleep out here tonight then I'll do that. If you need me to sleep out here every night until you feel safe having me in bed with you again, I'll do that. If you need me not to kiss you, even on the cheek, then I won't. I know it's not forever. We're stronger than the trauma we've endured."
"I should have known..." Barry trailed off when Iris shook her head insistently.
"She was my perfect copy, Barry. She had my memories, she knew what to say to make the inconsistencies seem like they were your problem, not hers. But despite all of that, you figured out she wasn't me and I'm so proud of you. You helped me come home to you."
Barry sat down on the far end of the couch and Iris hated the distance between them. But he reached out and she took his hand.
"I love you, Iris," Barry told her quietly.
"I love you too, Barry."
"I... I need to sleep alone tonight," he finally said. "But I'd rather be out here than... I can't... I can't sleep in that room. I can't."
Iris really isn't sure she can sleep in there either. Not after witnessing her husband being... but she nods. "Okay."
"Can we look for some place new, together?" Barry rubs at his face, letting go of her hand to scrub at the tear tracks running down his cheeks.
"Yes." She'd honestly set the whole apartment on fire if he asked her to. As it is, she's planning on replacing all the sheets and maybe the comforter too. Take those out somewhere and set them on fire.
But for now they sit in silence in the remains of an apartment that used to be safe, used to be home. But now it's just a place where they feel exposed and broken.
Iris doesn't know how to pick up the pieces and put them back together again. But she will do whatever it takes to help Barry feel whole again. Feel safe again. To make herself feel real again.
Iris wakes up screaming, Barry's hands on her shoulders. She's on the floor, curled up in blankets with pillows sans the pillow cases and Barry's touch anchors her.
She curls into his arms, sobbing. "I was watching for so long and no one could see me. No one could touch me. Is this real, Barry? It is, isn't? I'm really here?"
"Yes, yes, it's real, Iris," Barry soothed, brushing her hair away from her face. "You're here with me. You're home with me." He picked her up, carried her out to the couch. "I don't think either of us should be in there anymore. Not alone, anyway."
Iris nodded, clutched his shirt and snuggled against his chest. "We should stay with Dad, Cecile, and Jenna until we have someplace new," Iris decided.
"Sounds good to me," Barry muttered, nuzzling against the top of her head. "You're right, Iris. We're stronger than what they put us through. We're gonna get through this." Stroking her shoulder slowly, he asked, "stay on the couch with me for the rest of the night?"
"Yes," she murmured, half asleep again already.
They sleep more soundly, curled together in Barry's old bed. It's not perfect. But they've got each other, so even the moments where Barry flinches away from the affectionate touches Iris desperately needs... they know they're going to move past it.
(The mirror over the dresser has been covered, though. And Iris can barely stand to be in the bathroom with the mirror stretched over the sink. It's easier when Barry can sit in there with her, perched on the edge of the tub while Iris brushes her teeth or does her hair and makeup. Then she'll take his place while he does his own ablutions.)
They've made an appointment with their couple's counselor again. Barry holding Iris' hand as she made the call.
It might turn out that they'll need separate therapy for this. Their ordeals and their needs are so different right now. But as long as they can still reach out towards each other and hold one another's hand...
Iris has no doubt they'll overcome anything.
The nightmares don't go away overnight. But they become fewer, further in between. She's not pounding on the glass anymore and Barry's no longer afraid of her touch. It's safe for her to initiate kisses again, Barry responding with such passion it makes Iris' toes curl.
They're gonna have bad days. Bad nights. Trauma always leaves its scars behind.
But their new apartment has two bedrooms. "It'd make a good nursery... when we're ready," Barry had said, blushing adorably, back when they'd been touring the apartment with their realtor.
"I think you're right," she'd agreed, imagining a crib in the corner and blue and pink and yellow elephants on the walls. Block letters spelling out Nora on a dresser full of baby clothes.
Barry's arm had been around her shoulders and he'd cuddled closer when she leaned against him, sighing contentedly.
But tonight Iris can't quite get that imaginary nursery out of her head. It's too soon for the baby to be Nora. Iris knows that. But... maybe Nora would like an older sibling.
She'll ask Barry what he thinks in the morning. He might not be ready. And if not, they'll wait.
Iris loves Barry, but she hopes he knows that it's more than that. He's worth waiting for. No matter how long it takes.
Barry Allen is worth waiting for.