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“Dad! Dad, dad?” Nora’s heart leapt up in her throat, seeing him laying on the pavement, unmoving and within seconds, she was at his side, moving him on his back. “You guys, he’s not breathing.” No air came from his mouth, no rise was there to his chest.
“He’s going into cardiac arrest, she needs to restart his heart.” Catlin said through the wire.
“What, how do I do that?” Nora had to fight to get the words out.
“Rub your hands together to create lightning and then give him a chest compression.” Before Catlin was even finished, Nora was working, lightning sparking, pushing down. Barry’s head moved to the side with the movement, though his eyes stayed closed.
“Come on, come on, come on. It’s not working.” Four tries? Five? Deep fear began to engulf her, tears clouding her vision as she sat back.
“We lost him.” There was the sound of his heart, flatlining over the earpiece at command.
“No, no, no. Please, please.” Begged Nora, repeating the compression, once, twice, three times more, and then suddenly his chest jackknifed up, eyes a brillant golden. Struggling to breathe, Barry collapsed into her arms, his whole body shaking. Nora held him tight, needing the resuarance, sobbing.
“He’s back.” Someone said, not that it mattered who then.
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After a few minutes, his breathing grew steadier, and slowly he stood up, using her as support.
“Nora,” He grasped her hands. “Nora, it’s okay. I’m okay.”
They both were quiet on their way back, Barry allowing Nora to flash him to Star Labs. He had wanted just to run on his own, but it was a surprising relief just to rest.
“I need to do some tests,” Catlin said, meeting them at the pipeline. “You could have heart irregularities with your heart, or you have cracked a rib.”
“I’m fine, Catlin.” He gave her a smile, striding between their friends that had gathered. Iris reached for his arm, an anchor. Dark brown eyes, warm, and questioning met his own.
“I'm okay.” He mouthed. Knowing she’d believe him to be sincere.
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“That wasn’t so bad,” Hands on his hips, Barry surveyed their kitchen, nodding in approval.
“That’s the whole of it?” Asked Iris.
“Yup. We make a pretty good team I would say.”
“Dad, you’re such a dork.” Nora’s voice floated from the family room, the top of her head barely visible where she was laying a blanket back on the couch.
“Am I?” He asked, and Iris’ laugh seemed to be answer enough. It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes between the three of them to clear the table and clean all the dishes, vacuum the loft. Their Thanksgiving feast was much needed, save for Iris’ attempts at making candied yams, and Barry was almost overwhelmed with gratitude.
“Well I think, I’m going to bed.” Said Iris, covering a yawn. She hung up a towel on the oven handle, surprised that the day’s events had snuck up on her. It wasn’t like she was the one on the front line, risking her life, using powers and facing villains, but just handling the ‘behind the scenes’ work was enough. Not even including what happened today, what could have happened. The ‘what-if’ that hung in the air turned her stomach.
Changing into pajamas and standing at the bathroom sink besides her husband, exhaustion wore through, pressing in even on even her ability to talk. Nora was downstairs, hopefully asleep. Iris was relieved beyond measure Barry had made a point of talking to their daughter earlier about what happened, had listened to her fears.
“Iris, are you okay?” He asked, breaking her from her thoughts.
“Am I okay? I don’t know, I did get to listen to you die.” It was out, and she hadn’t meant to say it, but watched as his eyes widened in the bathroom reflection.
“Now you sound like Nora.”
“Don’t, don’t do that.” She faced him, the paralyzing fear she had felt earlier crept up again, unexpected, and undesired.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Iris.” Said Barry. “I’m sorry that I put you through that.” Slowly, he reached out, strong arms embracing her. Logically, Iris knew he was sorry, and that there weren't any alternatives, no fixes to this. Some would say it came with having a superhero for a spouse, and hell, if anyone asked her, she knew the risks, prepared for the ‘less than stellar’.
“You died, Barry.” Blinking away tears, she looked up at him.
“I know,” He said, a hand unconsciously going to his chest. “It hurt. When Nora shocked me, it felt as if...everything was suddenly too much.” The two of them sat on the bed, Iris still needing contact, physical reassurance, leaned against him, perhaps without thinking, carefully. “I’m okay.” He was saying.
“You better be, you don’t have a choice, Barr.” Said Iris, allowing him to kiss her hand. Sadness flickered across his face, suddenly making him look older than his twenty-nine years, and for a moment, she could hear his breath hitch.
This couldn’t be it, Iris thought. Even as they went to bed, voices in her head continued speaking, almost on a loop that faded out at some point (for which, Iris was grateful). Catlin’s cool control of the situation, methodical, and Nora’s sobs, her desperation, the mental picture of what might have been, what was. Maybe it sounded selfish and maybe it even was, but she didn’t think she would ever be the same without him. Iris closed her eyes, and Barry rolled over, pressing against her, chest rising and falling in his sleep.