Treatment

"It's time, Mr. Allen," Ronnie said, coming into his room, "I'll take you to the lab. Dr. Wells and your family are all in there now, waiting for you."

Barry nodded shakily. He was extremely nervous. He was about to let the doctor do electroshock therapy on him, which was a very risky procedure. He was surprised it was even still used today. It seemed so barbaric to him. Although the procedure was a lot safer now than it used to be, it was still risky. The therapy was used to intentionally cause a seizure, after all. There were still so many things that could go wrong.

There was a chance that it could accidentally fry his brain and leave him a vegetable for the rest of his life, but Barry decided that the risk was worth it if there was a chance he could get better. He had relapsed seven times over the last two years at Renfrew. He wasn't going to let himself relapse again. It was time to finally get better—permanently this time.

"Barry, don't!" someone shouted suddenly.

Barry looked over and realized he and Ronnie were walking right past Cisco's cell, and Cisco was shouting at him through the window in his door.

"Barry, don't do the treatment!" Cisco screamed at him as they passed, "Don't do it! If you do, the metahuman wins! You'll never wake up!"

"I'm sorry, Cisco," Barry said sadly, "I promise, I'll come back and visit you once I'm better."

"NO!" Cisco's voice echoed down the hallway after them, "Barry, STOP!"

Cisco's shouts eventually faded as they made some distance from his room. Barry felt bad for his friend. He wished he could just help Cisco see the truth like he had. He wished Cisco could get better, too, but the way Dr. Wells made it sound, Cisco was too far gone. He would probably spend the rest of his life here.

But Barry wouldn't.

Barry was determined not to. He was going to go back to his life. Well, as best he could. He wouldn't have a job at the CCPD anymore, and Singh couldn't hire him back even if he wanted to. There was no way they could allow a certifiably insane person—even a recovered one—to work in law enforcement. Barry would start fresh, though. He would find a new job, something in science. He would go home and be with Joe and Iris, as a family again.

Iris gave Barry a nervous smile as he entered the lab for his treatment. Her hands were shaking, and Barry could tell that she was just as nervous as he was. Joe didn't look much better, but both of them were smiling nonetheless.

"I'm so glad you're finally agreeing to do this, Bar," Joe said happily, hugging Barry.

"It's time," Barry said with a small smile, "I can't run from reality anymore."

Barry laughed then.

"Get it?" he asked, "Run?"

Joe and Iris chuckled.

"I'm glad this place hasn't robbed you of your sense of humor, Bar," Iris said, "You're still our Barry Allen."

Barry smiled and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

"I will be," he whispered.

"Are you ready, Mr. Allen?" Dr. Wells asked then.

Barry swallowed and nodded.

"Alright," Dr. Wells said, "If you could just lay down on the table then, Barry."

Barry nodded and walked over to the table. He looked nervously at the restraints that were attached to it, but he swallowed back his fear and laid down on it anyways.

Iris walked over and grabbed his hand, giving it a small squeeze.

"It will all be over soon, Barry," she said quietly.

Barry nodded and wiped a tear from his face with his free hand. This had to work. This was about more than just him and his life. It was about his family. Even if Barry in some ways preferred his fake life as the Flash, he couldn't escape into anymore if it meant leaving his real family behind. He had to get better. He had to recover for them.

Don't do it

Barry looked up at Iris again, having heard the words in her voice. Iris wasn't speaking, though. She was still looking down at him, giving him a watery smile.

Please Barry, don't do it! You know who you are! You're the Flash, Barry.

Barry squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He tried to block out the fake Iris voice in his head. He couldn't let his mind play any more tricks on him anymore. Iris wasn't really talking to him. He just imagined that she was.

The Flash is real, Barry. You're the Flash. You knowwho you are!

Barry took a deep breath as the electrodes were placed on each side of his head, against his temples. He squeezed Iris's hand in fear, still hearing her voice talking to him in his head. She was standing right next to him, but she wasn't really speaking. The real Iris was standing next to him. Something about the voice in his head felt so real, though. It didn't feel like it was just in his head…

Please, Barry…come home to me, to the realme.

Barry's eyes snapped open. It was her. He didn't know how he knew. He just did.

"I know who I am," he said quietly.

"What, Barry?" Iris asked worriedly.

Barry glared at her.

"You're not Iris!" he said angrily, "None of this is real! I'm not really here right now, am I? This is all fake! I know it is! I know who I am!"

Barry yanked his hand away from hers, and he wrenched his other arm away from the attendant who was trying to restrain it to the table.

"Easy, Bar," Joe said, putting a hand on Barry's chest to keep him in place, "It's alright. You're just having one of your episodes right now. Everything will be better after the treatment."

"Don't touch me!" Barry yelled, shoving the fake Joe's hand off of him.

He swung his legs off the table and quickly stood up. The attendant rushed forward, but Barry punched him square in the face, sending him sprawling back. And then Barry rushed at Dr. Wells, wrapping his hands around the doctor's throat.

"Barry!" Joe shouted, "Stop!"

Joe attempted to pull Barry off the doctor, but Barry released one of his hands from the doctor's throat and elbowed Joe in the face hard before his hand returned to Harrison Wells' throat.

"I know who I am!" Barry shouted at him, "I'm the Flash! I know who I am!"

Dr. Wells struggled to suck in a breath, and he raised a hand to try to pry Barry's hands from his neck. Barry just squeezed tighter.

"Get out of my mind," Barry growled, squeezing the doctor's throat as hard as he could.

The eyes of Harrison Wells suddenly turned black, and the edges around Barry's vision started to blur, the fake world around him started to falter and fade. The next thing Barry knew, it felt like he was being pulled backwards through a tunnel.

Barry's eyes snapped open, and he shot up in bed.

"Barry!" Iris cried, wrapping her arms around him.

Barry sat there in shock, breathing heavily as he looked around the room, over Iris's shoulder. He was in the STAR Labs med bay, surrounded by his friends and family, who all had looks of immense relief on their faces.

As soon as Barry realized this, he responded to Iris's hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her in return.

"Iris," he sobbed, "Iris, I'm back. I'm home."

When Barry and Iris pulled apart, Joe hugged him next.

"I thought we had lost you, Bar," he said quietly as they embraced.

"I lost myself for a minute there," Barry said, wiping a tear from his eye as Joe pulled away.

He looked over at Cisco then, who had his vibing goggles resting on top of his head.

"I'm so sorry, Cisco," Barry apologized, "I should have trusted you. I should have believed you."

"It's okay, man," Cisco said, "That metahuman was really screwing with your mind. I understand."

Barry shook his head.

"I should have had more faith in you," he persisted, "I should have believed you over the delusion."

"Why didn't you?" Cisco asked gently.

The others all looked at him, too, no doubt wondering the same thing. Barry sighed and ran a hand over his face, searching for a way to explain this to them.

"This life," he said, looking around at all of them, "It just…seemed too impossible to believe. We've seen some pretty strange things over the last two years. It just didn't seem like it could possibly be real…but it is real. I really am the Flash. I'm a superhero."

"Hell, yes, you are," Joe said firmly, "And a damn good one at that."

Barry laughed and smiled at him. The smile quickly slid from his face, though, as he thought of something, and it quickly became a look of misery.

"My dad really is dead, isn't he?" Barry asked quietly.

The others all looked at each other, and then Caitlin nodded sadly.

"I'm so sorry, Barry," she said.

Barry felt a tear escape his eye. He couldn't rid himself of the sickening guilt in his chest. He had let the doctor convince him his dad was a murderer. He had believed it. That was the worst lie Barry had believed, and he didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive himself for it.

When Barry went home that night, things still didn't feel quite real to him. He felt as if his mind had been completely whiplashed over that last couple days and that it would take him a while to feel fully like himself again.

"Are you okay?" Joe asked him as they were sitting down for dinner.

Barry nodded and gave him a sad smile.

"Just thinking," he said quietly.

Iris gave him a questioning look, and Barry sighed shakily.

"I still feel a little detached," he said honestly, "I…that metahuman really messed with my mind. I just feel like I can never really know for sure which reality is actually real."

"This one is real, Barry," Joe said firmly, and Iris nodded.

Barry gave him a sad smile.

"I hope so," he whispered.

Did it matter really, though? Did reality even matter? Isn't his perception of reality all that truly matters? Even if this were all fake and all a delusion, why would a fake reality be any less valid than a real one? It didn't matter if it was fake or real; what mattered was his perception of it and how it made him feel.

"Cisco said that we were in your dream," Iris said slowly, "What were we like there?"

Barry smiled at them.

"You were the only two people who were the same," he told them, "Everyone else was different, but you two were still my family. You were still the same Joe and Iris."

The other two smiled at him.

"I can't imagine what that all must have been like for you," Iris said, shaking her head, "Thinking you were insane and that you had imagined all of this."

Barry nodded and sighed heavily.

"The worst part about it," he said quietly, "Was that they told me my dad really did kill my mom…and I…I believed it."

Barry sniffed and wiped his eyes.

"After years of having unwavering faith in my dad, I let a stupid metahuman convince me he was guilty," he said bitterly.

"Barry…" Joe whispered.

Barry shook his head.

"I'm never going to forgive myself for that," he said in anguish, "I feel so sick about it."

"Barry, it's not your fault," Iris said sadly, "The metahuman was messing with your mind. He messed with the most personal and emotional aspects of your life and your past. That would leave anyone vulnerable."

Barry sighed and wiped his eyes.

"I'm just glad it wasn't true," he said quietly, "Coming back here…I feel as if I've lost my father all over again, but at least I still have an untainted memory of him here. I wish he were still alive, like he was in my dream, but at least he's not a murderer in this reality."

Iris reached out and took Barry's hand in her own.

"Barry, everything's going to be okay," she said, "You're here now. You heard me calling to you, and you came home to me. You're home."

Barry gave her a sad smile.

"I'll always come home to you, Iris."

Dr. Wells massaged his damaged, bruised throat as he walked down the hallway towards the large metal door. He slowly reached up and slid open the slot on the door that allowed him to see through its window.

Barry Allen sat on the floor, dark shadows under his eyes as he rocked back and forth where he sat, donned in a strait jacket. His hair was matted and disheveled, his eyes unfocused as he muttered to himself.

"I'll always come home to you, Iris."

Dr. Wells observed the boy sadly. He knew for sure now; it was a lost cause.

Barry Allen was never going to recover.

The last part is optional. You can choice to omit it if you don't like this ending. The story is open to the reader's interpretation.