— 𝐵 —

𝐀𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐋𝐘, 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 at the live security footage of Wells' cell. 

Wells, Reverse-Flash, Eobard Thawne—whoever one perceived him to be, was still unconscious. But Barry was itching to question him, so he was hoping that the man would wake up sometime soon.

"When do you think he'll be awake?"

"Soon," Cisco reassured him with a firm nod, peering over his shoulder. "He's been knocked out for, what, fourteen hours?"

"Thirteen hours and forty-two minutes, actually," Sophia, who was sitting beside Caitlin at the main desk, corrected.

"Oh," Cisco said mockingly as he turned towards her, "you're not gonna give me the seconds?"

"Twenty-eight seconds. Actually, twenty-nine seconds. Thirty seconds. Thirty-one seconds. Thirty-two—"

"Okay, we get it," Caitlin teased, nudging her arm, "you know how to count."

Cisco scoffed. "Really putting that forty trillion and two IQ to use, aren't ya?"

"I know your high numbers are all part of your jests and witticisms," cut in Stein, who had been chatting with Ronnie at the side, "but have you ever actually performed a proper IQ test on Ms. Byun?"

"Yeah, we did it the day we figured her power out," Caitlin answered. "Dr. Wells—er, Thawne rigged one up because we figured it was higher than a normal test could measure. It ended up being four hundred and thirty."

"Forty trillion would be dope, though," added Cisco with a grin.

Sophia sighed. "I think we wouldn't be in this situation if I were that smart."

Barry pressed his lips into a frown as he returned his gaze to the footage. Every slight movement, small grunt, nose twitch made Barry's shoulders tense. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand to be patient—he wanted answers, now.

He half-considered just speeding down there and banging on the cell door until Wells woke up, though he was more than sure everyone else would disapprove of this idea. And before he could act on this intrusive thought, Sophia came up next to him and put a hand on his arm.

"You doin' okay? You seem a bit tense."

"How can I not be?" he sighed, gesturing to the screen. "We've got my mother's murderer in our own personal jail, and all I can do right now is sit here and wait."

"It's only a matter of time till he wakes up," she comforted him. "Then you can figure everything out."

Barry wasn't feeling all that better about it, but he still gave a small nod. "Right."

"Listen, we've been here all night, and I'm getting tired of Cisco's granola stash." She cracked a smile, though her dark eyebags told him she was just as exhausted as he was. "Why don't you and I go grab breakfast?"

"But what if Wells—"

"It'll be quick. Twenty minutes," she promised. "Plus, when's the last time we've had some time to ourselves?"

"To be fair," he reasoned, "a lot's been going on."

"Not blaming you for it," she chuckled before kissing his cheek. "Come on, just a quick stop at Jitters."

Barry had a feeling she wasn't going to give in easily, so he decided to just concede. He supposed his rumbling stomach wouldn't mind a coffee and sandwich in the least.

Once Sophia had gotten everyone else's orders, she came back to Barry.

"Okay, so either we take the car or—"

To Barry, there was only one option: speed. Before she could finish talking, he wrapped his arms around her and, much faster than a car, brought her just in front of Jitters.

"I fucking hate you."

"Whoa," Barry chuckled, "language."

"I think I have the right at this point." She glared at him as he opened the door, a bell chiming as he gestured for her to go in. "What if someone saw?"

He grinned. "Trick of the light."

As per usual, the coffee shop was busy with university students and office workers—it was the morning rush, after all. It took about ten minutes for them to get their food, and Barry considered them lucky to have found a table to sit at.

"You sure we have the time to sit?" he asked nervously. "Wells could be up at any moment—"

"Trust me, he's not going anywhere," Sophia reassured him before taking a sip of her coffee. "And anyway, Cisco would call, and since someone decided to forego driving, we'd be there in a second."

"I guess you're right." He shrugged, though he made sure to put his phone face-up in case of a call.

"Oh, what a surprise," she said while he rolled his eyes. "The super-genius is right."

"Whatever." As he picked up his bagel and took a bite, his eyes drifted towards her midriff, and his eyebrows furrowed. "Hey, by the way, how're your ribs doing?"

She scrunched her nose. "We're talking about my mega-brain, and your mind went to my ribs?"

He shrugged. "I just looked at them and remembered."

"Looked at my ribs?" she teased, her eyebrows conveying the same taunt as she leaned forward. "Or something else?"

His cheeks immediately heated. "Uh, well—"

"Barry Allen, you pervert."

"I was just—I didn't—your ribs!"

"They're okay," she laughed. "I mean, it's been a couple weeks, so I have a few more left till full recovery, but they're not as bad."

Despite the small smile on her face and her reassuring words, her picking at the edge of her croissant told him that it was worse than she let on. And knowing how stubborn she was, he decided to keep the peace and just smile and nod. "That's good."

"Yeah, don't worry about me."

A light chime made Barry's eyes dart to his phone, though the black screen made him quickly realize that it had just been the door opening for entering customers. He returned his gaze to Sophia, who was ripping a piece of her croissant off, and he shook his head.

"I'm always worried about you, Snowpea."

"Enough with the sappy stuff, it's too early for any of that." She sighed, and he chuckled. "How's work been?"

He shrugged. "The same. Catching criminals."

She shook her head, her eyebrows furrowing. "I meant CCPD work."

"Yeah?" he questioned, shrugging again. The same chime tricked him again, and once he was reassured, he cleared his throat. "I catch criminals there, too."

She scrunched her nose. "I'm not sure you do much of the catching, babe."

"I do important work!"

"I never said you didn't!" she quickly said before laughing. "But there's a pretty big difference between what you do and what Joe and Eddie do."

"In my opinion," Barry said with a small sniff, "I have the harder job."

"Mhm," she mocked, "doing all that science is way worse than risking your life."

He rolled his eyes in amusement and pretended to start getting up. "You know what, I think it's time for us to—"

"No, no, sit down," she laughed, tugging at his sleeve. "Yes, you do such hard work, my prince."

Barry chuckled before taking a big sip of his coffee. Despite all its warming powers, it still couldn't reassure that certain nervous tingle in the bottom of his stomach.

He glanced at his phone, though the screen remained dark. Had he turned the ringer on? Or maybe it was too loud in here, with the music and chatter around him. Or maybe there was a glitch that sent Cisco straight to voicemail.

He ended all these thoughts by picking up his phone and turning it on. He clicked on the phone app, though there were no missed calls.

"Barry, please. Can't you just relax for ten minutes?"

He glanced at Sophia, who was giving him a pleading look. He sighed as he put his phone back down and picked up his bagel again. "How can you even relax?"

"Because I know all the danger is gone," she answered. "For now, at least."

"I'm just nervous that he'll escape somehow." He frowned, taking a bite of his bagel. Once he had swallowed it, he continued, "He's done it before."

"Trust me. Cisco and I worked hard to make sure that cell is escape-proof for someone like him."

"I don't know . . ."

Her eyebrows raised. "So you don't trust my skills?"

"I do."

"Then relax," she chided, and when his eyes drifted to his phone again, she groaned. "And stop checking your damn phone."

"What if Cisco calls?"

"Then you'll hear your phone ring. Looking at the screen won't make him call any faster," she pointed out before shaking her head. "Let's just talk about something unrelated; take your mind off it for the moment."

"Okay, um . . ." Barry took a bite and used his chewing time to ponder a new topic. "Actually, there's a question I've been meaning to ask for a long time."

"Yeah?"

"What was your life like before the particle accelerator explosion?" he asked, a little too eagerly. "I mean, I know bits and pieces, but you've never really talked about it."

"Oh, uh . . ." Her eyebrows knit together, and she shrugged. "I guess my life wasn't interesting enough to talk about."

He smiled and gestured for her to go on. "Anything about you is interesting to me."

"Well, I had just graduated from university here, with a degree in mechatronics. I specialized in ​​automation and robotics, though I guess all that studying was for nothing," she chuckled. "I joined STAR Labs during my last two years of university, because Dr. Wells—Thawne, I guess, whatever—had come to me and asked me to join the particle accelerator project. I always wondered what he saw in me, what made me stand out against all the other students . . ." She sighed, and her face fell into a look of disappointment. "I had hoped it was my brilliance but I guess he just knew I was meant to have this brain."

"Not such a bad thing, is it?" Barry pointed out, hoping to make her feel a little better. "I mean, you met me 'cause of it."

She smiled and nodded. "One of the very few good reasons I'm grateful for him."

"Tell me more."

"Um . . . I mean, I didn't have much of a social life around that time." She shrugged, squinting her eyes. "The only people I really talked to were Cisco, Caitlin, Ronnie, and Dr. Wells."

"What about Rathaway?"

"Pfft, Cisco and I hated that guy with a passion," she replied, and Barry remembered all too well their comments about him during their encounter. "There were a few good pranks we played on him, though—one time, we put laxatives in his coffee. No one used that bathroom for a week straight."

Barry wrinkled his nose. "That's disgusting."

"It was funny." She laughed, though that was quickly replaced with a small exhale. "You know, I always thought that the years working on that accelerator were the worst, stressful years of my life, but honestly . . . between all the nights with Cisco, and all the giggling with Cait about boys, and doing what I love—it was really amazing."

"But not the best years of your life, right?"

"No, I think I honestly could consider them—" She paused when Barry raised his eyebrows, and she grinned. "I mean, no, absolute not, Barry, the best year of my life is this year because I love you so much."

"Yeah, that makes me feel great." He gave a dramatic sigh and waved his hand. "Keep going."

"I don't have much more to say."

"What about your family?"

"My parents live in Starling City, so they've got the Arrow to protect them. I'm an only child, so that's it."

"Hm. Interesting." Barry nodded slowly, and only silence replied. He scrunched his face. "What, you're not going to ask about my life before becoming the Flash?"

She scoffed. "I already know everything about you, Bartholomew Henry Allen. I did all my research while you were in that coma."

He quirked an eyebrow as his hand wrapped around his coffee cup. "Yeah?"

"What, you don't believe me?" She readjusted herself in her seat and nodded. "Okay, quiz me."

"My birthday?"

"Easy. March 14th, 1989, old man."

"I'm only three years older than you!"

"Old. Next."

"My degree?"

"Double major in physics and chemistry from college, criminology from university."

"Which university?"

"Central City University."

"I wonder if we ever crossed paths?"

"Highly unlikely; you're three years older than me and our majors were very different. Next question."

"How many girlfriends have I had?"

"One. Though you were suspiciously close with Felicity, so I'll say one and a half."

Barry's eyes immediately widened—she wouldn't be the first to suspect that, and he had no clue why. "Me and Felicity were never—we aren't—"

"Oh, calm down, I'm kidding," she laughed, and he sighed. "I love Felicity."

He nodded before pausing. "And how'd you know about—"

"Becky Cooper?" She shrugged, a sly smile on her face. "Iris loves to gossip. I hope I'm not as nightmarish."

"No, absolutely not," he quickly reassured her, very much truthfully. "You're the best."

"Good to hear." She grinned. "So? I passed your test?"

"One hundred percent."

"Wonderful." She took her last bite of her croissant and crumpled up the wrapper. "I'm going to go get everyone's coffee, and then we can go."

— 𝐵 —

"What? No Big Belly Burger?" Wells stared at Barry's empty hands through the cell glass. "It's one of the few perks of living in this time. We're out of cows where I come from—you don't care about that. You have questions. Go ahead."

"Not sure where to start . . . Thawne." Barry raised his eyebrows when the pacing Wells whipped around to face him. "That is your real name . . . Eobard Thawne?"

He bowed his head. "Since the day I was born."

"And when was that?"

"A hundred and thirty-six years from now. That's not what you want to know. Go ahead, Barry," he insisted. "Ask it."

Barry's heart was suddenly racing. The person who held the answer to his forever-lingering question was right in front of him, caged. Just within his grasp—and, apparently, eager to answer him.

Tears pricked his eyes. He hadn't even asked the question yet, though he knew these tears would have come, anyway. He bit his lower lip, almost stopping himself before forcing out:

"Why did you kill my mother?"

"Because I hate you," Wells answered simply. "Not you now. You years from now."

"In the future," Barry stated, and he was surprised that his voice remained steady.

"In a future. Yes," he confirmed, his gaze unmoving. "We're enemies, rivals, opposites, reverses of one another."

"What? Why?" Barry questioned. "Wh-why were we enemies?"

"It doesn't matter." Wells turned around and placed a hand on the padded wall. "It doesn't . . . matter anymore. What matters is that neither of us was strong enough to defeat the other—until I learned your secret. I learned your name. Barry . . . Allen. And finally, I knew how to defeat you once and for all. Travel back in time, kill you as a child." He turned back to face Barry. "Wipe you from the face of the Earth. But then you—future you, that is—followed me back, and we fought. We both landed some pretty solid shots. And then you—future you—got your younger self out of there. I was so . . . mad. But then I thought . . . what if you were to suffer a tragedy?"

Barry tried to keep his breathing steady as he listened to all this, though it didn't stop the guilt creeping into his stomach. Saving himself had only killed his mother.

"What if you were to suffer something so horrible, so traumatic that your child self could never recover? Then you would not become the Flash. And so I stabbed your mother in the heart, and I was free."

Barry's stomach was turning. He placed his hands on the cell door, using it to support his suddenly unsteady body. Though Wells hadn't described it in detail, Barry's own heart felt as though it had been pierced.

"Finally able to return to a future without the Flash, only to realize that in travelling back, I lost my way home. Lost my ability to harness the speed force. And without it, I was stuck here. Stranded in this time, unable to return to my own. And the only way back was the Flash. But the Flash was gone, and so I created him."

There was one question that lurked at the back of Barry's mind through all this:

"Why train me? Why help me save so many people?"

"Because I needed you to get fast," replied Wells quietly, coming close. "Fast enough to rupture the space-time barrier and create a stable wormhole through which I could return home."

That idea seemed incredulous to Barry. "Why would I ever do that?"

"Because . . . Barry Allen, if you give me what I want, I'm gonna give you what you want. You can go back and save your mother. You can prevent your father from going to prison. You can reunite the Allen family."

The idea tempted him for a moment. It sounded like heaven—his mother, his father, and him. A whole family again. Something he had been dreaming of ever since the night of the incident.

But there was a reason that was only a dream. That wasn't possible.

"No. No, I don't believe you." The smirk on Wells' face ignited anger in Barry. He slammed his fist against the cell and hissed, "I want to kill you right now."

"I know that rage," Wells said quietly. "I used to feel that rage every time I looked upon you. And now, somehow, I know what Joe and Henry feel . . . when they look on you with pride. With love."

"No," Barry immediately replied with a hard shake of the head. "No. Don't you ever say that to me!"

"I know you're upset, but I'm giving you a chance," Wells coaxed, taking a step forward. "I'm giving you a chance to undo all the evil I've done. Don't you want that chance?"

— 𝐵 —

"The rare opportunity to go back in time and right a wrong and save your mother's life," pondered Stein, who stood amongst the rest of the team in the Cortex. "Quite the paradox Harrison has presented you with, Mr. Allen."

"The chance to be with someone you love?" Caitlin pointed out, coming up beside Ronnie. "Seems pretty cut and dry to me."

"At first blush, Dr. Snow, it would appear so, but this gift has unparalleled risk," Stein rebutted before walking towards Barry. "Barry, the night your mother died, the night you saved yourself from being killed, that event altered the timeline you were already on and changed the course of history."

"So what you're saying is we're living in a parallel universe?" Cisco cut in.

"Just like when I time travelled before," Barry agreed, leaning a hand against the Med Lab's entrance.

"But he . . . he only changed one day that time," Joe pointed out.

"Exactly," Stein said, turning back to the group, his hands moving with his thoughts. "Now imagine fifteen years of compounded experiences. One different decision, no matter how big or small, impacts everything that follows. Moments upon moments, choices upon choices. No relationships, nothing would be as it is today, and you'd never know the difference because you'd never remember any of it."

"So if I go back and save my mom, my dad doesn't go to prison," Barry said slowly. "I never live with Joe and Iris."

"You might never meet me," Cisco continued, crestfallen. "Or Sophia or Caitlin or Ronnie."

Barry's attention quickly drew to Sophia as she pushed her way past Cisco and into the hallway. He swallowed. He hadn't really thought about that aspect.

"I'll talk to her," muttered Cisco, though before he could move, Barry quickly interrupted:

"No, it's okay. I'll do it."

He quickly walked out into the hallway, though turning his head both ways showed that she had gone further. He had a couple of guesses as to where she could be, so he took his chances on the closest one.

The workshop door was closed, though he didn't let that discourage him. He opened it and stepped in, and his heart sank as he saw Sophia sitting at one of the desks, her head in her hands. As he walked closer, he could hear her soft sobs.

She didn't seem surprised by his presence as he sat down beside her, though she didn't look at him.

"Snowpea," he said softly. "Can we talk?"

She remained silent, so Barry took that as a 'no,' though he was willing to stay in that seat for as long as it took.

It was only a minute later when she sniffled and wiped her eyes, but her gaze still remained on some half-worked metal piece in front of her.

"I don't want to be selfish, Barry," she said quietly, though her voice was unsteady. "I—I think you should do it. It's just . . . I . . ."

"I would never think of you as selfish." Barry rested his hand on the base of her back, and he pressed his lips together. "I . . . I understand. But I still don't know if I'll do it, anyway."

At this, she finally turned to meet his gaze. Her reddened eyes were squinted in confusion. "Wh . . .Why not?"

"Why else? Because of you, Soph," he said softly, his hand moving to cup her tear-stained cheek. "I love you, and . . . I mean, Cisco, Caitlin, Ronnie—they're great people, and I don't want to lose them, but you . . . I can't lose you."

"Barry . . ." She sighed and rubbed the tears off her cheeks. "You have the chance to grow up with both of your parents, without the . . . the stress and trauma from this life. Without having the weight of the world on your shoulders all the goddamn time. You've saved so many people, given them another shot at life . . . isn't it your turn for a good life?"

He frowned and shook his head. "I still don't know."

"Come on," she whispered. "If you don't, I'll feel guilty. Barry, I don't want to hold you back from living the life you've wanted."

"But I like this life just fine," he insisted. "Any life with you is the one I want."

"I want you to choose the better one."

He sighed. "But without you . . ."

"Without me, you'll be fine," she chuckled lightly, though there was no humour behind it. "You'll find another beautiful, smart girl who'll be perfect for you."

He shook his head, and this time, he was the one with tears in his eyes. "You're the only one for me, Sophia."

She pressed her lips into a small smile. Her hand rested lightly on his cheek, and he leaned into her warmth. "Then we'll find each other again."

— 𝐵 —

"Dad, look, I know this sounds crazy," Barry started, though his father, staring at him through the glass barrier, interrupted:

"I think we're way past crazy, slugger. Look, you're fast, I get it. But turning back time—"

"No, I wouldn't be turning time back," Barry quickly corrected. "I would be . . . going back . . . to that night . . . to save her."

"And what does Joe think about all this?"

Barry chuckled. He had already had that conversation—and he had been fairly surprised by Joe's answer. "He thinks I should do it."

"No," Henry said firmly. Barry was surprised to see not a bit of slight hope in his father's eyes. "You can't."

"Dad . . ." Barry said softly. "I can make it so that night will never have happened. We'll be a family again."

"We are a family."

"Not like this," Barry insisted, "not without Mom."

"Barry, there's a natural order to things, okay?" Henry rebutted, his eyes not leaving Barry's. "Things happen the way they do. We may not know why at the time, but there must always be a reason. Now, I believe that. I've had to believe it."

"I—I can save Mom," Barry pleaded.

"At what cost?" he questioned. "You said time would change. What if it changes you?"

"I don't care!"

"I do." The tight lines between Henry's brows told Barry that there was no changing his mind. "I am in awe of the remarkable man that you are becoming. All the things you've achieved, and not just as the Flash, but you, Barry. Your honesty. Your heart. You were always a hero. And your mom would be just as proud—and if she had a say in this, if she thought for one second that you going back to save her would mean you losing what makes you so special—she would never want that."

Barry's eyes welled up with tears. He had thought, out of all people, his father would support this idea. He was the one who had lost everything after all—his wife, his son, his career, his chance at living a normal and free life—yet he wasn't jumping at the opportunity to change all of that?

Of course, he understood his father's reasoning. But he would be lying if he said that he believed it just as much.

"Barry, what I hope for you—maybe the greatest thing that a father can hope for his son—is that one day, you will become a father yourself. And then you will know . . . how much I truly love you."

— 𝒮 —

Sophia was sitting in the Cortex, though not much work was getting done.

She knew Barry was at Iron Heights, telling his father about the decision he needed to make. She had no clue as to how Henry would react, but she hoped it would be well.

The work on the computer screen in front of her was waiting for her, but all she could do was fiddle with a cool dinosaur-shaped paperclip she had stolen from Cisco. As much as she said she was fine and all good with Barry changing the past, the idea of no longer having him scared her to death.

Don't get her wrong, she really was hoping that he'd go through with it. If there was anything he deserved after everything he's done, it was to have a happy family—even if it meant losing the family he had right now. But you'd have to be heartless to not experience the sadness she was feeling right now.

It was a tough decision to make. But as much as she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Barry, she didn't want to spend all of it with him wondering about the alternate life he could have had. So, she made the difficult call. Difficult, but—hopefully—right.

"Hey!" greeted Caitlin, walking through the entrance. "You doin' okay?"

"Hi, Cait. Yeah, I'm, uh, fine." She braved a smile. But Caitlin knew her too well to believe it, and her dear friend gave her a sympathetic smile and rub on the shoulder. "Just processing the whole thing."

"I'm so sorry about that." Caitlin sighed, taking a seat beside her. "Trust me, I know what it's like to lose the person you love. And it sucks. But just know, Cisco and I'll be here for you."

"Thanks." Sophia nodded slowly. "Anyway, um . . . I don't really want to talk about that. What've you been up to?"

Caitlin's sympathetic expression changed to an excited one. All the signs of good news were happening: she fixed her posture, her eyes lit up, and she scooched to the edge of her seat. "Remember how, before the whole accelerator mess, Ronnie and I were supposed to get married?"

Sophia chuckled. "How could I forget?"

"Well . . ." Caitlin clasped her hands together, and the light perfectly glinted off her ring. "He and I talked, and we decided we should go through with it."

"What?" Sophia excitedly exclaimed. This was the perfect distraction—something so utterly happy that made it impossible for her to feel down. "That's amazing! Oh my gosh, congrats, Cait! When?"

Caitlin had a small smile as she shrugged. "The clock's ticking with Barry, so we thought just to do a quick ceremony tomorrow."

Her eyes widened. "Tomorrow? Holy shit! Do you even have a dress?"

"Oh," Caitlin said dismissively, "I'm sure I could scavenge a white dress from my closet."

"No way, Cait." Sophia shook her head as she turned the computer off and got to her feet. "This wedding has got to be perfect, so we've gotta get you the perfect dress."

"But Barry—"

"There's nothing for us to do about that. Come on!"

After a little more convincing, Sophia finally managed Caitlin to agree. Though she kept insisting that she definitely had something white in her closet (Sophia was ninety-nine percent sure she was referring to a lab coat), Sophia could tell that she was growing more and more excited as they neared the boutique.

Sophia spent the entire car ride questioning Caitlin on what kind of dress she wanted, though Caitlin kept replying with an "I'm not sure" or "Anything is fine, really."

Seeing that it was nearing six PM—rush hour—it took them way longer than it should've to get there. There was no other time Sophia needed Barry more to speed her somewhere.

Finally, they arrived at the bridal boutique, Gracie's Bridal, which didn't seem to be too busy.

"Oh, look at all of these dresses!" Sophia gasped as they entered, and she suddenly realized that this was going to take way longer than she had thought—which was great news. "God, they're so beautiful!"

Caitlin nodded, a pained look on her face. "I don't know if I'll be able to choose."

"Welcome, ladies!" greeted the bridal stylist, scurrying toward them with a big, red-lipped smile. "Would you like some help?"

"Yes," Sophia replied, gesturing to the woman beside her, "we're looking for a dress for her—the bride-to-be."

"Wonderful!" The stylist smiled at Caitlin and then spread her arms. "Anything you're looking for in a dress?"

Caitlin glanced at Sophia, who shrugged, and she told her, "Just something simple and not too expensive."

"All right." The stylist nodded. She motioned for them to follow as she started to walk down the store. "When's the wedding?"

"Tomorrow," Caitlin answered, a little sheepishly.

"Tomorrow?" she repeated in surprise, stopping in her place and turning to them. "Isn't it a little last-minute to start looking for a dress?"

Sophia sighed. "The whole wedding is last-minute."

"Ah, I see." The stylist regained her smile and gestured to the selection of dresses. "Well, let's find you the perfect dress, shall we?"

— 𝒮 —

It was a little past eleven by the time Sophia had finally gotten home. She had spent the last God-knows-how-many hours looking for the perfect dress, shoes, and accessories for Caitlin—and she was more than satisfied that she managed to do all that. And the best part was that the dress Caitlin had chosen—which was absolutely beautiful—fit her perfectly, so no need for a seamstress and a few months that they didn't have.

It had been so stressful, especially while knowing that if it wasn't done today, it would never be done. And because that was taking up her mind one hundred percent of the time, it had made for a wonderful distraction.

But now, after a somewhat bachelorette dinner, she was home. With only the low hum of electricity, and none of Caitlin's nervous blabbering or the stylist's never-ending advice. She wasn't sure what she should do; if she tried to sleep, her anxiety and fretful thoughts would keep her awake. All of her blueprints for to-be-inventions were made for Barry. The only person she'd want to talk to at this hour would be Barry himself.

But apparently, Barry was feeling somewhat similar as his contact suddenly appeared on her phone.

She bit her lip as she stared at his grinning face before sighing and picking up. "Hello?"

"Soph? Where are you?"

She sat down on the couch, crossing one leg over the other as she answered, "My home, why?"

"Oh. I thought you were still at STAR Labs."

"Nope. Why, you need something?"

"Yeah, you."

"Me?" she repeated, her eyebrows furrowing. "For what?"

He chuckled. "Is it so wrong to want to see the love of my life?"

Thinking that he was buttering her up, she groaned. "What've you done this time? Did you break something? Oh my God, did you break into my stash of Kool-Aid Jammers?!"

"No!" He laughed. "But seriously, with all that might happen . . . I want at least one more night alone with you."

She smiled. As much as she wanted to think about literally anything but this situation, there wasn't anything more she wanted than to see him; no one else could comfort her like he could. "Well, you know where I am."

And in less than a second, he was standing in front of her. "Hi."

"Hello," she greeted as he sat beside her and kissed the top of her head. "Where've you been?"

"Talking to Iris about . . ." Barry pursed his lips for a moment before awkwardly shrugging. "Well, you know."

"Hm." Sophia turned her face away for a moment as she bit her lip. "What'd she say?"

He shrugged again. "She thinks I should do what my heart says."

She chuckled. "Cheesy—but true."

His lips fell into a frown. His hand met her cheek, and his thumb slowly caressed her skin as he softly said, "My heart wants you, Soph."

"Not as much as it wants a saved mother and freed father." She put a small smile on and rested her hand on his wrist.

Gazing into his eyes—the eyes she had been loving since forever—she wanted nothing more than to plead and beg for him to stay. To forget about everything she had said before and just be with her for the rest of their lives. She wanted nothing more than that. But at the same time, those words couldn't find their way to her mouth.

It was wrong of her to even think of asking that. Selfish, actually. Looking into the eyes of the one she loved, she wanted nothing more than his happiness. And she knew where the answer lay.

So instead, she cleared her throat and asked, "Do you want to watch a movie?"

Barry's eyebrows furrowed. "Wha—how can you go from the fate of our future to 'Do you want to watch a movie'?"

"I want tonight to be a good memory, not one where we spent the entire night debating what you should do." She gave a small shrug. "And I want you to truly understand that I will be okay if you go. I want you to go."

He sighed deeply. "Sophia."

"I mean it," she insisted before grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. "Now, rom-com or action?"

"I think we should still—"

"Rom-com it is!"

"Sophia," he chided as she switched to Netflix, "we aren't done talking about this."

"Well, sucks, 'cause I'm done talking about it."

"Sophia, I'm serious!"

"Barry," she sighed, putting the remote on her lap and turning to him, "what do you want from me? To say I'm not okay with it? That I don't want you to do it?"

He pressed his lips together. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what more is there to discuss?" She shook her head. "I told you how I feel. I told you what you should do. I don't want to keep being reminded of it. So, what else is there you want to clear up?"

"I don't . . . I guess I . . ." Barry licked his lips, and his eyes lowered to his lap for a moment. He swallowed and looked back up, and his expression became pleading. "How are you so okay with it? Don't you want me to stay? Don't you—don't you love me?"

"Barry, the reason I want you to do this is because I love you," she said softly, resting a hand on his knee. "I want what's best for you. And even if that doesn't include me in your life" —she shrugged— "so be it. I'll admit, it's gonna be hard for me. It'll be so fucking hard without you. But I'm happy if I know you're happy."

She picked the remote back up and continued to browse through movies, biting her lower lip so that she didn't burst into tears. She was hoping that maybe her seeming totally fine and okay would help Barry feel a little less guilty—but knowing him, and his stubborn need to care for everyone but himself, this would do absolutely nothing.

She glanced back at Barry, who was still giving her the imploring stare, so she sighed and put the remote back down. "Barry, you have two options. Stay with me, in this crazy mess, or go have the life—the normal life—you were meant to have."

"It's hard to choose."

"Then I'll choose for you: the latter."

"It's not that simple."

"It really is, Barry. And since I chose that for you" —she held the remote out towards him— "you choose the movie."

He pushed her hand away. "We're not watching a movie."

"Oh, come on, is it really that hard to pick one? Fine, I'll pick the movie, too." She turned back to the TV and clicked through the options. "What about Crazy, Stupid, Love?"

"Sophia!" He grabbed the remote out of her hand, startling her. His face was much redder than it was before, and his eyebrows were furiously knit together. "Enough about the damn movie!"

She was still in shock from the sudden grab, but she managed to get out, "Barry—"

"This is a big deal! This decision—if I make the wrong one, I can't undo anything! I don't want to just sit around and watch some movie when we could be figuring this out!" He stood up, towering over her as she stared at his enraged glare with widened eyes. "Just stop messing around and do something useful for once! Is it that hard?!"

The last sentence echoed in her head for a moment. She couldn't believe that he out of all people would say this. On a night like this.

Tears pushing their way out of her eyes, she got up and hurried over to the front door, grabbing her keys and purse on the way there.

"Soph, where are you—I didn't mean that!"

She ignored him as she shoved her feet into her shoes, not caring that they didn't fully go inside as she pulled the door open.

"Sophia!"

She slammed the door behind her.