Vague voices waft around him, he doesn't know what's going on, only one of them sounds familiar.
Some images distract him from the voices.
Beautiful cozy dreams of holding her in his arms or kissing her by the fireplace in their loft, tough heartwrenching nightmares of losing her with his own lightning or seeing her with his nemesis, coming back to his mind like returning to the torturous cycle he used to be in, remembering things he didn't do any of.
But if there's just one thing he was glad he only remembers and not lived it, was that he didn't abandon her, he never put his love in the hands of what's called destiny and just let go of her.
He always fought for her, he sacrificed himself for her so many times. Until he was shattered by seeing her dead and there was nothing left to fight for anymore.
Then, he just wanted to fix it the way he never dared to do after the Flashpoint.
He tried.
And he failed.
He was tricked and got trapped.
And once he was finally out by tricking others into what he once was fooled by, he went after what he thought was the best. Recreating everything, even if he had to pretend he doesn't love her or act as if he'll kill her with his own hands.
But none of that worked out in the end. In the end...
What was the end?
The end...
How was he deceased again?
The paradox?
No wait...
...
Her...
Shooting him in the back...
That can't be...
He feels he's shattering all over again.
How could she...
Okay, well, she could for so many reasons but none of it really matters now that the urge to end it all is consuming him.
He wants to be gone again. He never asked for any of this but right now, he just needs to end it. Whatever that end turns out to be, because to exist, and live with all this, is just another agony for his lost and broken soul.
In between all the emotions he's dealing with, masses of other memories cloud his mind.
Both were at the loft, after H.R.'s funeral, she told Barry that "I'm sure that it'll hit me in the future." giving the impression as if she didn't even care about killing him like that. Like she was happy with her revenge. Or maybe none of that was true.
Maybe she just wasn't ready to face the pain that crawled inside of her for what she did to him, she was dodging it.
As another memory pops up he realizes that was the case along with a complex he never dreamed of.
"I miss him, Barry." she confessed one cozy night after he was out of the Speed Force, and they were lying on the bed. "Who?" Barry asked, making little circles on her shoulder with his fingers. "The other you." she said, not willing to call him by some weird Godlike name. "What? You miss him killing us?" Barry joked. She turned her head, resting her chin on his chest to see his face. "No. I miss him being alive." her voice dropped to a whisper. "Living his life..." her eyes glistened with tears, visible through the dim shine of the moon lighting the dark room.
"Hey..." he stroked her back. "I know he made too many mistakes but-" she was cut off by him. "But he was still me," he blurted out, she swallowed the lump in her throat, shed a tear, and he continued, "I've felt it, Iris. I felt it when he wanted to do the right thing but it seemed like he was either too lost in his pain or too private about his purpose." he rubbed his face and breathed out his devastation.
