SNOWBARRY: Sometimes Runs, Sometimes Can't

Chapter 6 - Reversed Feelings

On his way home, running across the city as if it were nothing more than a midnight stroll. Barry replayed the last few minutes in his mind.

Only moments ago, he'd stood before Iris as the Flash, staring at her and realising she embodied everything he'd ever wanted. And yet, the moment had felt like a dream already slipping through his fingers.

Maybe, in another life, another universe, they could have been something.

But not today.

Perhaps he'd gone for closure.

He knew that if he'd stayed a moment longer, he wouldn't have resisted holding her.
She was breathtaking, and for a heartbeat, he could have sworn she looked ready to let him.

Then, without warning, something shifted inside him, a tug he couldn't name.

Why would a man feel the urge to leave when the girl he'd dreamed of since he was eleven stood right in front of him?

Yet the pull was undeniable.

Iris had made her choice, and now it was his turn to make one of his own.

***

By now, Iris was used to his rooftop visits, so tonight wasn't a surprise.

What was surprising, and unsettling was that he'd left without even saying goodbye.

The absence lingered like an ache, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just hurt someone she never meant to hurt.

Sometimes she swore she knew The Flash.

They finished each other's sentences, shared the same thoughts, and somehow she always sensed when he was hurting.

Those feelings were... familiar.

Only one other person had ever made her feel that way: her best friend, Barry Allen, her family, her best friend, and someone she wasn't on good terms with these days.

For reasons she couldn't name, she felt an urge to see him, to talk to him again.

She missed him. They hadn't talked in days.

***

Barry found himself standing outside Caitlin's door.

He blinked.

He hadn't planned to come here, yet somehow this was exactly where he wanted to be.

"Barry..." she said softly, as she opened the door to his loud knock, surprise in her voice and the faint trace of tears in her eyes.

"Hey, hey... what's wrong?" He closed the distance instantly, wrapping his arms around her.

It was past midnight, but she was still wearing the same clothes from earlier that day. 

Her shoulders felt heavy under his touch.

"I... I can't." She closed the door behind him, clearing her throat as if she could disguise the strain in her voice. But her eyes, red-rimmed and glassy, gave her away. 

She stopped pretending.

"Talk to me. You can trust me. Is this about what happened the other day?" His voice was low but steady, though inside, relief washed over him. He'd needed to see her. Needed to know she was okay, even if it took him two cowardly days to gain the strength to sort this, face this.

"It's my fault, Barry. You clearly didn't want to we shouldn't have done it."She wiped her cheeks, then added, "I just... I have so much to figure out. It's you and me, it can't happen again. You know that."

 Her voice cracked, the pain in it finally surfacing.

"Caitlin, look at me." He caught her hands gently. "Is this why you're upset? Because you think we wouldn't work? That we'd ruin things?"

"Yes. I feel like... we've just messed everything up. We couldn't even face each other for two days. This is wrong." Her voice trembled, and she blinked rapidly, fighting back tears. "Every time I get close to someone, I lose them. And I can't," she broke off, swallowing hard. "I don't think I'd be able to handle it if it happened again."

Barry's chest tightened. He hated hearing her say that. Hated knowing she felt this way.

For a moment, he didn't say anything. He just looked at her, really looked at her, and saw past the guarded tone and the perfectly chosen words. He saw the truth in her eyes: she was terrified.

Without a word, he closed the space between them and scooped her into his arms. She didn't protest. Maybe she was too tired, or maybe she just needed it.

He carried her down the short hallway to her bedroom. The room smelled faintly of vanilla and clean linen, something uniquely Caitlin, warm and comforting.

He lowered her onto the bed carefully, like she was something breakable, and pulled the blanket up around her shoulders.

"You will never lose me, Caitlin," he said softly, but there was a quiet force in his voice. "And I will never let this happen to you again."

Her lips parted, like she wanted to argue, to tell him he couldn't promise that, but the words didn't come. Instead, she looked at him, searching his face for... what? Proof? A lie? Something to hold on to?

"You can't promise that," she whispered finally.

"Yes, I can," he said firmly, his voice low but steady. "Because no matter what happens, no matter how bad it gets, I'll be here. You don't have to go through anything alone ever again."

Her eyes glistened. "That's what Ronnie used to say."

The name hit him like a punch, but Barry didn't look away. "I'm not Ronnie. I'm not going to leave you. I promise."

Her breath caught, and for a moment, the room felt impossibly still. He could hear her heartbeat fast, unsteady.

"You scare me, Barry," she admitted quietly.

"Why?"

"Because you make me want to believe that maybe this time, I won't lose someone I..." She stopped, biting the inside of her lip.

"Someone you what?" he pressed gently.

She shook her head, closing her eyes like she could shut the world out. "Just... stay until I fall asleep, will you?"

He nodded. He kicked off his shoes, sat at the edge of her bed, and stayed. Not touching, but close enough that if she reached out, he'd be there in an instant.

Minutes passed. Her breathing started to even out, but Barry kept his eyes on her.

The truth was, he wasn't sure who was protecting whom right now.
All he knew was that leaving wasn't an option.