Work Text:
“-ry? How do you feel? Did it work?”
There’s a strange (beautiful, stunning) woman standing in front of him, brow knit in worry. He doesn’t recognize her, but from the way she’s looking at him, he can tell he’s supposed to.
“Oh, uh- I feel fine. I- I think it worked.” He cursed himself for that. He had no idea what was supposed to work or how he was supposed to feel, but he knew that probably wasn’t what this woman wanted to hear.
“Of course it worked, you really thought I would mess this up? I understand how important this procedure is.” That was someone new, posh accent and offended tone.
“Chill out Julian, she was just worried.” Another new voice. This one chuckled, “I mean, it’s her fiancé.”
Oh crap. He was engaged to this woman. He couldn’t remember anything about her and they were engaged? He felt sick. He couldn’t remember his own name, what was it she had called him? He wasn’t completely aware when she’d started speaking. Was it Gary? Henry? Crap crap crap.
“Um, Barry?” (That was it: Barry) The third guy was talking again. “You feeling okay, buddy? You look a little pale.” The man entered Barry’s (And didn’t that feel strange. Barry was such a bad name, he couldn’t imagine choosing it for himself) line of sight. He had a red vine hanging out of the corner of his mouth, like a Candyland mobster.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just… Just dizzy,” he muttered.
“Iris, you should probably take him back home, let him get some rest. Who knows what sort of side effects this could have had,” A third man said. The woman nodded. Iris, her name must be Iris. It was fitting, it was a beautiful word in every sense. A flower, a rainbow, a goddess. The woman in front of him, his fiancée, could definitely pass for a goddess. (And it threw him off a little, that he couldn’t remember his own name but could wax mental poetry about the Greek goddess of rainbows).
Iris (He wished he could sing her name, but the people around him would definitely notice something was off about him then) grabbed his forearm, helping him stand on shaky legs. He got his first real look at the room he was in, he had been sitting in a weird chair, something straight out of a (low-budget) sci-fi movie, with four people he hadn’t seen yet, three guys and one girl. He moved on, taking in the actual room, monitors and computers hanging on every wall and not a single window. It was cold down here and the lack of sunlight was making him uneasy.
Iris must have noticed, because she said a quick goodbye and pulled them towards an elevator at the end of the room. When the doors slid closed, she turned to him, cupping his face in her hands.
“Are you sure you’re fine? I know you, Barry, and I know you’re acting weird.” Her voice was soft, calming, like trying to lure out a scared animal.
“Iris…” (Her name tasted like honey to say) “I promise, I’m fine. Just a little disoriented.” (Because what else could he say? How was he supposed to explain that he couldn’t remember his own last name or his job or where they were or what year it was? No, it was better to just wait and see if this would sort itself out.)
She seemed satisfied with that, dropping her arms to his waist as though she expected him to fall over. They stepped out into a large room with glass walls and a glass ceiling, light flooding the room. Iris led them out to the sidewalk and leaned into him, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I’m gonna guess you’re too out of it to Flash us home, right?”
“Um…” He floundered for words, wanting to ask what that even meant, but he was supposed to know already and that would most likely blow his cover.
She just laughed, (Though there was worry still, he could see it in her shoulders and hear it in her laugh, too strained to be completely genuine.) and pulled out a cell phone, dialing an unfamiliar number. (Though most things seemed to be unfamiliar right now.)
Soon, a taxi pulled up and Iris shepherded him into the backseat, grabbing hold of his hand once they were sitting inside, squeezing, like a reminder. (He squeezed back. ‘I’m here,’ he thought. ‘Don’t worry,’ He didn’t know where the words came from but he knew he meant them.) That seemed to help, because she relaxed, even by just a little, tension falling from her posture.
The ride back to… To wherever they were going was short, but Barry still had to stop himself from gaping at the city. It was beautiful, tall and metallic, but he had probably known that already. The sidewalks were crowded, and it seemed every third person had the same weird logo on a shirt or a hat or a jacket. Barry wondered if he had anything in his closet with the red, white, and yellow lightning bolt emblem. It was probably from a movie or something, some pop culture phenomenon that’s slipped his mind. (Just like everything else.)
The taxi pulls to a stop in front of a beautiful building, an apartment complex, and Barry steps out of the car as Iris pays the driver. Iris comes around to his side, latching onto his arm again and starting towards the entrance. They walk into another elevator, this one more decorated and more used, old and scuffed with scratches on the hand grips. They get out again on the top level and Iris guides him into the apartment.
It’s beautiful, and Barry can’t keep a small gasp in. Iris glances at him that worried look back, but he’s too busy drinking in the home, their home, to notice. It’s gorgeous and makes him realize. Realize that he has a whole life with this beautiful woman he’s somehow engaged to. He wants so desperately to remember, to remember everything. He can feel tears prickling at his eyes threatening to burst out.
Iris reaches a hand to his face, turning it slowly so he’s staring at her. He’s overcome with the sudden need to kiss her. It burns in his stomach, he feels like he’ll die, his whole body is warm. He leans in, and she reciprocates. They stay, for a while, like that, in the middle of the beautiful apartment in a beautiful city. Barry pulls back and everything is perfect.
And then, time stops. Iris is frozen, lips parted and eyes closed, looking like a statue. Barry backs away, waves a hand in front of her face, but she doesn’t move. He looks down at himself and finds that his hands are shaking, no, vibrating. Vibrating at speeds that should be impossible. He walks towards the couch, but missteps, breaking into a run and stumbling, crashing over the back and onto the floor.
The world starts back up again, and he can hear Iris gasp. “Barry! What happened? Are you hurt?” She dashes over to him, kneeling and racing hands over his chest, his head, checking for injuries.
“I don’t know… How did I do that?”
“What do you mean? Barry, it looked like you lost control of your powers.”
“Powers?”
Iris’ eyes widen. “Barry, what happened is- is something wrong with your memory?”
“Well… Actually I need to tell you something.”