The Flash - Whatever May Come, Whatever May Go (Don't Give Up_

[elrhiarhodan]

Title: Whatever May Come, Whatever May Go (Don't Give Up)
Author: elrhiarhodan
Fandom: The Flash (TV 2014)
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Barry Allen, Harrison Wells | Eobard Thawne, Cisco Ramon; Eobard/Barry Allen
Spoilers: Minor references to S3.01 - Flashpoint, but more in relation to the comics version of that event.
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~7000
Beta Credit: None
Summary: A direct sequel to It's Thin Line (between love and hate). At the end of that story, Barry and Eobard had negotiated a cease-fire to the centuries of hostility, but it doesn't last - not for an hour, or even a minute. At least not until a pair of happily married doppelgangers decides that enough is enough.

A/N: Written for Day 03 of Fic-Can-Ukah, for @Timeforalongstory (Kyele). They asked for the prompt: "What it Means to be Remembered" and EoBarry. This might not conventionally fit the prompt, but it is a story I know that they have been waiting for. Tangentially fits into the EoBarry Revealed 'verse.

There is a special joy in writing in a fandom that has time travel and the multiverse. You don't like the canon versions? Just invent new ones. Both sets of Eobards and Barrys are non-canon, although one pair is closer to canon than the other.

Title (and much of the mood of this story) was inspired by the Peter Gabriel song, Don't Give Up.

Feel free to follow me at my tumblr Obscene Circus Ponies, or on my old school (and much beloved) LiveJournal account.

__________________




Eobard relishes the feel of the afternoon sun against his back and his husband between his thighs. Today - like every day - is a good day to be alive. Barry ruts up against him, his cock just as hard and wet as Eobard's, but there's no urgency in his motion. They've already slacked their morning lust - this is just a little fillip, a snack – something to tide them over until nightfall.

All would be well except for the sweat. It makes them sticky and despite the centuries of mutual desire and love, it's unpleasant and uncomfortable.

Eobard rolls off of Barry and the vaguest stirring of air against his sweaty skin feels good. Almost better that his husband, if that's at all possible.

Barry looks at him and says, "I hate to say it, but it just might be too hot for sex."

"And I hate to agree. At least for sex al fresco." Eobard is ever-grateful for the clarity of his memory. The first time he and Barry had come together was on the ancestor of one of these loungers. That had been a chilly autumn night, more than two centuries ago, but Eobard remembers it like it just happened.

Barry reaches for his hand. "I know what you're thinking about."

"Of course you do." Eobard looks up through the trees into the endless blue of the afternoon sky. "It's not the Hunter's season."

Barry sighs. "But it's always the season to dream."

Eobard brushes his thumb against the cool platinum of Barry's wedding band. "Sometimes I wonder if this is a dream." He knows how much Barry hates it when he's uncertain of their happiness, but he can't help it.

Barry leans over him and Eobard's universe expands to encompass Barry's lightning-filled eyes. "If this is a dream, then it is one that neither of us will ever wake from." Barry kisses him like a conqueror, like he wants to swallow him whole.

Eobard doesn't so much as submit to Barry, he just lets Barry's fierce belief in their love carry him forward into a sea of need and desire. The summer heat has nothing on Barry, intent on giving his husband pleasure and Eobard relaxes into every sensation.

Barry's mouth marks him with a pattern of teasing bites that fade almost as soon as they're born. Eobard resents that and commands, "Harder."

And Barry complies, biting down on the apple of Eobard's shoulder, and then at the juncture of his neck and collarbone. The bites hurt and although Eobard can't see them, he knows the bruising is real and vivid and will last for a few hours.

Eobard knows this because Barry is biting him with the exact strength that Eobard uses when he's the one doing the marking, and Barry's bruises will last an hour or more.

Barry gentles the bites when he gets to more sensitive areas – Eobard's nipples – but his teeth are deliciously intent and Eobard forgets about heat and sweat and sunshine as Barry teases him, nipping and pinching and loving him with the familiarity of centuries.

When Barry attacks Eobard's navel, vibrating his tongue, Eobard screams. He knows just how much Barry loves doing this and yet every time Eobard is shocked by the unexpectedness of the pleasure.

Barry lingers, teasing him with his speed – not just from his tongue, but his fingers as they drift over Eobard's skin. It's hot and the lightning Barry calls forth is a thousand times hotter. It should hurt – and maybe it does, just a little – but the purity of it brings out Eobard's own lightning.

As Eobard gives over to the speed force wrapping around them, he wishes – and not for the first time – that he could observe their pleasure, that he could witness the blessings they've created for themselves.

Then Barry puts he mouth on Eobard's cock and every rational thought leaves his mind. He's trapped in a universe that begins and ends with the wet heat of Barry's mouth, his vibrating tongue and the sly invasion of Barry's fingers.

Eobard clings to the precipice, he fights against the on-coming rush of orgasm, but Barry is too wily, too determined to bring him over. His husband is relentless and talented and focused and Eobard realizes that there is simply no good reason not to come.

He is a speedster, after all.

The world turns to star fire and Eobard accepts the inevitable necessity of orgasm. He spends himself in Barry's clever, hungry mouth and it's almost too much.

Barry whispers against his mouth and kisses him. "This is not a dream, Eobard."

Eobard can taste himself on Barry's lips. "No, it most definitely is not. I never imagined licking my come off you."

"No, I don't suppose you did." No long the lover focused so intently on his husband's pleasure and happiness, Barry grins and flops back against the cushions. "I love you, you know."

Eobard glances over at Barry. "I will never tire of hearing that. You could say it a thousand times a day and I'd still be eager to hear it the next time. Because I love you and …" Emotions, too many and too powerful, overwhelmed him. Eobard shakes his head, and apologizes. "Sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Barry takes his hand and lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss against the cool platinum of his wedding band.

Eobard thinks that maybe they should just go back inside, shower and spend the rest of the day finding creative ways to express their love and devotion. But before he could make the suggestion, they are rather rudely interrupted.

"Now that you've taken a break from your never-ending sexcapades, you might want to deal with the two speedsters who've just dropped in for a visit." Cisco's mental voice is as full of snark as ever.

"Speedsters?" Barry's mental voice is a touch worried. They've had far too many encounters with hostile speedsters over the years.

"Yup." Cisco sounds a little smug.

"What do you know, Vibe?" Eobard has put up with a lot from Cisco over the centuries. He is a valued and trusted friend, but Cisco is not above playing a prank on him.

"Nothing yet, but I'm working on it. You two might want to be careful. This pair is a little … strange."

Barry's already in his suit and Eobard puts on his own, as always thankful that he no longer wears that heavy yellow battle suit. Cisco gives them the coordinates for the rogue speedsters who've invaded their territory, and they're off.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The forest is a riot of joyous noise – birds and insects screaming their delight in the heat. This is such a contrast to his own Earth, where the few remaining green spaces are ruthlessly guarded and the birds and insects are mostly extinct.

Eobard half wishes he could remain here, but he's an interloper. Besides, this world already has an Eobard Thawne. And a Barry Allen. Who seem to be very happy together.

Eobard finds that unbearable. And in a moment of terrible vulnerability, he tells Barry - his Barry - why he's hated him for so long. Two centuries and more, and Eobard is still a pathetic, lovelorn fool. "Once, in another timeline, you smiled at me, you treated me as an equal, but you never saw me. You didn't love me. I loved you but I was invisible."

But Barry doesn't mock him, doesn't look at him with perverse delight. To Eobard's shock Barry confesses his own feelings. "I'll never trust you. But I do love you, Eobard Thawne. I always have, and I always will."

Eobard doesn't know what to say. He has to wonder if this is all a lie. But he lets his guard down just a little more, shakes his head and tells Barry, "You shouldn't."

But Barry looks back over his shoulder, back at the house where another Eobard and Barry were so clearly living a life together. "I know, but I also know that it is possible for us to love and be happy."

And Barry, that utter sap, that romantic fool who can't stop thinking that he can save the world, picks up Eobard's hand and lets it rest against his heart.

Eobard gasps, "I thought you said you'll never trust me."

Barry just smiles and challenges, "Prove me wrong."

It would be so easy to fall into that trap, to surrender to something that might be love, but Eobard knows it will never last. Not with everything he's done. Barry will come to his senses soon enough and remember that Eobard Thawne is the man who murdered his mother, and whatever love he thinks he feels will turn to hate. So he does the only thing he can do.

He proves Barry right not to trust him and he lashes out, fists connecting with flesh and the battle sings in his blood. They're fighting again, as always. Barry's pinned against a tree and Eobard's punching him and then he's on his back on the ground and Barry's pummeling him.

This is right and familiar and good.

Between punches, Barry screams, "You said you loved me."

Eobard gasps out, "Love is foolish, it's for the weak. It died centuries ago and it needs to stay buried. I told you to end this, Flash. End it now."

Before he can do anything, Barry is whisked away and Eobard is terrified. Who has the right – and the power – to stop the Flash?

And then he wants to laugh because the other Flash – the other Barry Allen – has pulled them apart. And if there's another Barry Allen here, there has to be …

He turns to face himself.

Except that it's not exactly him. Yes, it's an Eobard Thawne wearing Harrison Wells' face, but there's something different between this doppelganger and the face he sees in the mirror. This Eobard seems younger, almost luminous, and there's a similar cast to this other Barry.

The other Eobard asks, "What are you doing?"

"We're fighting – can't you tell." Eobard doesn't bother to hide his derision.

His Barry shakes himself free. "I thought we were trying to reconcile. I though …" Barry, thankfully, has some measure of self-preservation and doesn't say anything foolish. And then he does, "Do you hate me that much?"

The two doppelgangers exchange glances and the other Barry asks, "What should we do with them?"

Eobard's own doppelganger looks at him. "Can you be trusted to behave?"

Eobard is curious, not just at how this Eobard and Barry are so together, but how this particular Earth has an Eobard inhabiting Harrison Wells' body. Knowledge is precious and if he agrees to a momentary ceasefire, it might just be worth it. But to surrender, even for a moment, feels very out of character.

Except that Barry - his Barry - is forever the do-gooder, the boy scout and he gives his pledge. "Yes, of course."

Eobard looks at both Barrys. His Barry is wearing a familiar look, the one of puzzled grief. The other Barry is too smooth, too self-contained and sure of himself and his power. Eobard wouldn't mind plunging his hand through this Barry's heart …

"I'll kill you before I let that happen," his doppelganger murmurs. "As if you could even get close enough to lay a finger on him."

Eobard wonders if his doppelganger is psychic.

"Your face is that transparent."

The other Barry repeats Eobard's doppelganger's question, "Can you be trusted?"

Eobard thinks it interesting that this other Barry doesn't look to his doppelganger for confirmation, but expects him to answer direct and answer truthfully. His own Barry snorts, his own experience in trusting any Eobard Thawne is less than stellar, but Eobard nods. "Yes, for now - you can trust me."

As humiliating as it is, Eobard has no doubt that these two, on this Earth, are faster than either him or Barry. They are true partners and the speed force connects them in ways that he and his Barry have never experienced. Will never experience.

Eobard lets that grief - one of too many - to wash over him. He has no one to blame but himself for that.

In less than a heartbeat, he and Barry are whisked back to that house in the forest. Up close, it's as glorious as his memory.

"I can't believe that you're still in that horror of a suit." Barry's doppelganger shakes his head and fingers the heavy yellow polymer. "Eo, do you have something a little more … friendly to lend to this gentleman?"

Eobard's doppelganger sniffs with amusement. "Of course."

His doppelganger tugs him towards the back of the house, towards what Eobard remembered as the bedroom area. It is still that, but the room is no longer some architect's dream of cool perfection, but a little messy and clearly lived in - a lifetime of personal effects are scattered about in casual disarray.

"You have questions, I presume."

It's strange hearing that voice. Eobard's met other versions of Harrison Wells. Warriors and scientists and the occasional idiot, but he's never met another Eobard Thawne wearing this skin, and none of them sounded like this. "Yes, of course I do."

But all his doppelganger does is hand him some lightweight clothing - black, of course. He also leads him to the bathroom and suggests that he wash up. "It will be easier to deal with the answers without wearing the dust of battle."

This kindness summons all of Eobard's need to be perverse, to refuse the hospitality offered to him.

And of course, his doppelganger reads him like a book. "If you want to stay dirty and hot and bruised, that's your choice." At that, the man leaves him alone.

Eobard could have used this speed and been done in a matter of seconds, but he doesn't. The bathroom is far more luxurious that the one of his memory. As the cool water cascades over his skin, Eobard find himself filled with regret. He misses his home, he misses the house he'd built for himself. Yes - it was meant to be a showplace, with nothing personal on display. After all, he'd been playing a role. And yet, it was still his home, his sanctuary. His Barry had shared it for a while, for a brief and bright moment before Eobard ripped their world apart in a misbegotten quest to return to his own time.

It had been fitting that Barry had been the one to complete the destruction that time and neglect had started.

Eobard remembers that moment, chasing the Flash through the streets of Central City, their clash too violent and too likely to cause collateral damage. Barry had headed north and deep into the forest. Eobard still doesn't know if Barry had deliberately picked the place for their battle, but they are at the house - overrun and neglected - and Barry challenges him. By the time they're finished, there isn't a single part of the structure that's still upright. When the destruction is completely, Barry lets him go, like he always does.

A few decades later, Eobard had returned to site and wasn't surprised to find that the forest had been cut down and paved over, his serene sanctuary replaced with one of a dozen ugly warehouses that now littered the area. But that is the past, the result of choices he can't unmake.

Eobard dresses in the clothes his doppelganger provided and reluctantly leaves the solitude of the bedroom. He follows the sound of voices and discovers his Barry – who'd also been given the chance to change out of his suit – sitting across from their doppelgangers and talking to them.

Everyone looks up when Eobard enters and Eobard can't help but feel like an interloper. He wants to lash out – fight rather than flight – but he can read the odds as well as anyone. His Barry might be exhausted, but he's still strong enough to pin him and inflict more damage, and the two luminous doppelgangers are practically leaking speed force. Eobard knows he'd lose and lose badly.

So he sits and accepts the offer of a cold drink.

"What now?" His Barry comments to no one in particular, but Eobard feels that he's the target of that inquiry.

The other Barry, however, responds. "Would you mind answering a few questions?"

Eobard shrugs. "Only if you'll answer some of mine in return?"

His own doppelganger shakes his head. "You are so predictable."

"Really?" Eobard is surprised at the comment. "Why?"

"You don't know when it's time to stop fighting, stop trying to find the edge, the angle. You fight because you are afraid to do anything else."

Eobard reaches for the speed force, but Barry – his Barry – clamps a hand around his arm. "Give it a rest, Thawne. For one moment of your life, listen to someone who might just know what they're talking about."

He'd punch Barry if he could.

Barry doesn't look at him, but he doesn't let go. "What do you want to know?"

Barry's doppelganger starts off the inquisition. "Why are you fighting?"

Eobard explains himself to no one. Barry, of course, rolls over like a bitch in heat. "I have no clue."

"Really, Flash?" Eobard's stomach churns at the lie.

"Really, Reverse. I don't know anymore. And I thought we were going to try to work things out." Barry sounds more sad than angry.

Eobard laughs, "There's nothing to work out. You hate me. I hate you. We've got nowhere to go with that other than fighting. You try to kill me, I try to kill you. Someday, one of us will succeed." Eobard knows that's a lie, he and Barry are too evenly matched, now. They'll fight until the universe burns out.

Barry, the bastard, has to bring up his moment of weakness. "That's not what you told me a little while ago."

"I lied. I wanted to lull you into a false sense of security. It was a trap. You fell for it." Eobard summons a triumphant grin.

"Bullshit." Barry's quick to respond.

His own doppelganger is curious. "What did he tell you?"

Eobard loses his grin, he loses his pride. He wants to run and tear a hole in the fabric of the universe. He waits for Barry to tell these gods his shame.

Barry's still holding on to him, and his hand is hot and sweaty. His enemy is nervous.

And also merciful. "That's not your business."

The doppelgangers sigh in unison. His own doppelganger says, with devastating simplicity, "It doesn't have to be like this."

"Yes, it does. He's the Flash, I'm the Reverse-Flash. It's our destiny." Eobard has never believed in that, but it's a good offense.

His doppelganger smiles and there's way too much pity there. "Reverse doesn't always mean opposite. Reverse can mean completion."

Eobard knows this. He's known it since the beginning, since he'd named himself in honor of the Flash. He'd hoped to bring that completion to the Flash, but the Flash had looked at him and saw just another speedster. Never a potential partner. He finally shakes Barry's hand loose.

It's hard not to shiver at the sudden chill.

"Would it be so impossible to put aside the hate?" Barry's doppelganger asks.

Eobard shakes his head. "I killed his mother. Kind of hard to get over that. I've killed a lot of other people, too. The Flash is supposed to hate me."

Barry rises to his defense. "You said you'd regretted what you've done, or was that all part of the lie, too?"

Eobard looks past the intermediaries and growls at Barry. "Why do you persist in believing that I'm actually a better man, Flash? I'm the villain of the story, remember? Never the hero."

"I can remember when you were a hero, it's been centuries, Eobard, but I haven't forgotten. I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of loving you and having it be for nothing. Why can't we…" Barry clamps his mouth shut, gets up, and paces to the far side of the room.

Eobard glares at the doppelgangers. "There's no point to this."

His own doppelganger exchanges a look with Barry's, who leaves them. Eobard watches the two Barrys disappear into the hot afternoon light and he worries, just for a second, if his Barry is safe.

"Why won't you let yourself love him?"

"I don't – "

"There's no need to lie. I can read it in every cell of your being. You love him. You created him out of hate, but you love the man that he is now."

"Even if that's true," Eobard admits to nothing, "I've done too many terrible things. Unforgiveable things."

"Is your Barry's heart is that small, that petty that he can never forgive you?"

"Didn't you hear me? I killed his mother. In cold blood. I was the reason why his father spent fifteen years in prison." The admission makes Eobard as nauseous now as it did when he'd confessed to his crime more than two centuries ago.

His doppelganger lets out a deep sigh. "And Barry has sworn to hate you forever, right?"

"No. The fool just told me that he forgives me. And so my humiliation should be complete, you might as well know that he even told me that he loves me."

"Why is this your humiliation? Why not Barry's. After all, he's telling you that he loves you, despite your crimes against him. Why does that humiliate you?"

Eobard feels the flood of heat to his face and he doesn't answer.

"You said you have questions." His doppelganger apparently doesn't know when to let things go.

"How did you con your Flash into trusting you?" Eobard is as deliberately offensive as he can be.

"No con. Barry sees me very clearly."

Now Eobard wants to shove his hand through his doppelganger's chest. This is all too unbearable. "He knows you're a murderer?"

"Yes."

"And he doesn't care?"

"We reconciled our crimes against each other a long time ago." Eobard's doppelganger rubs his thumb against his wedding band. "We've been married for more than two centuries, Eobard."

"I hate you." Eobard aches from the unfairness of everything, from all of his mistakes, from all the centuries of regret.

"And you hate yourself even more."

"Bastard."

"What if I told you there are others like you and your Barry. Like me and my Barry."

That catches Eobard's attention the way nothing else could. "You mean there are other Thawnes who stole Harrison Wells' DNA? Who created the Flash?"

"Of course there are." His doppelganger notes. "The number isn't infinite, but there are a few. And just so you know, there are more Eobard Thawnes who never fall into the pit of obsession about the Flash. Most of them, though, are rather interesting time travelers. Barry and I have encountered a few over the years."

"Interesting."

"I take it that you've never encountered yourself."

"No. I've met a few other Harrison Wells, though. Some have been rather formidable. Others, not worth the effort to kill."

His doppelganger blithely returns to a very painful subject. "The other Eobards and Barrys - they all have similar origins. But often, their stories end differently."

"Really?"

"There was an Eobard who was wiped from existence when our ancestor, Eddie Thawne killed himself. That Barry - he didn't survive the loss. He lost himself in the speed force a few years later."

Eobard feels sick. The thought of any Barry Allen dying is unbearable.

"But there are more Eobards and Barrys who are happy together. Or at least, who are not trying to kill each other. We've met a few pair that are best friends, partners only in the traditional sense. And there are others who are blissfully happy."

"Like you two?" Eobard wants to sound disgusted, but he ends up sounding sad and pathetic, instead.

"Barry and I are not 'blissfully' happy. We are complex people with complex issues. We argue and fight and pull at each other. But we wouldn't want any other life."

"You're married, though."

"Because we love each other and cannot survive without each other. Barry completes me, I complete Barry. What is the Flash without his Reverse?"

Eobard snorts in derision. "You sound like an idiot. I'm ashamed of my own doppelganger." He's not, but Eobard can't let this man know how much his words affect him.

His doppelganger shakes his head. "You just don't want to take the chance, do you? You fear happiness like it's a monster under the bed."

Eobard wants to tell this other man that he doesn't fear happiness, he fears what will happen when that happiness is yanked away. And the loss is inevitable.

"How can you live like this? So afraid?"

"I'm not afraid." Eobard is the Reverse-Flash, he cannot be afraid.

"He loves you."

"He hates me. I murdered his mother in cold blood."

"Since you've never encountered another pair like us - like you, there's something you probably don't know. In universes where the Reverse-Flash exists, Nora Allen has to die. Whether by your hand, or by Henry Allen's, or by some passing stranger intent on murder. Once the Reverse-Flash is created, Nora Allen's fate is sealed. Illness and accidents have taken her, too. Nora Allen's death when Barry is eleven has become a pivot point on which human history rests. And you can't uncreate that moment - you can't undo history. The universe doesn't survive the paradox."

Eobard struggles to take this in. "What does the death of a moderately successful real estate agent in a small midwestern city have to do with the entirety of human history?"

His doppelganger frowns. "I don't understand it either, but I've witnessed the fallout in timelines where Nora Allen lives, where Barry Allen grows up and never becomes the Flash." The man's eyes go dark and there's a terrible stillness to him.

Eobard has to wonder at what he's seen.

"And I've seen other timelines and Earths where Barry Allen has found his happiness with Eobard Thawne, despite the past."

"So you've said."

"Yes, so I've said. And it's not too late for you, Eobard. Your Barry wants this - what right do you have to turn him away? To deny him?"

"You speak from the mountain. You haven't spent centuries fighting the Flash. You don't know what it's like."

"No, I haven't spent centuries fighting against what I love. I know what it's like to lose him."

That shocks Eobard, because the thought of Barry Allen's death is always a shock. "What do you mean, lose him?"

"No, you don't get that story. Not now, not yet." His doppelganger looks out, towards where the two Barrys were talking. "Maybe someday, after you realize that Barry Allen isn't who you hate, what you fear."

Eobard hears the echo of his own words, spoken so long ago. "Then who do I hate?"

"You hate yourself, Eobard Thawne. You loathe who you are and what you've become. And you're so terrified of that person that you'd rather destroy any chance at happiness, at peace, at a life with the one person you love, than risk even a moment's uncertainty."

"How dare you?" Eobard hasn't felt this towering rage since Barry destroyed the Time Sphere and wrecked his chance to go home.

"I dare because - for some reason - I seem to want every Eobard and every Barry to be happy. Or at least, not be enemies. You've wasted centuries and you still have countless centuries to go. You're never going to win, Eobard. Not unless living in misery is what you consider victory. What's the expression, you'd rather curse the darkness than light a candle?"

Eobard launches himself out of his seat, but he doesn't go far. It's not that that the speed force won't respond, it's that Eobard can't bring himself to attack his doppelganger, no matter how terrible the truth is. He paces the length of the room, feeling trapped. He pauses at the window and watches Barry Allen - both Barry Allens - talk in the sunlight.

His doppelganger stands next to him and the fight goes out of Eobard. "It's been so long since I've seen him like this."

"Like how?"

"Relaxed, at peace. Not running or fighting. Just being Barry Allen."

"Do you know that is the first time you've used his name with me?"

Eobard nods. The intimacy of those syllables terrifies him, and he is a man who hates being afraid more than anything else. "What am I supposed to do now?"


:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Barry rests his head in his hands. His doppelganger sits next to him, patient as the moon.

"I thought, for a moment, that we had a chance. That would could be something other than enemies." Barry shakes his head. "I thought that I'd finally seen through all the masks and the lies. That he could forgive me for what I did to him."

Barry's doppelganger sucks in his breath. "And what did you do?"

"He loved me - in some earlier timeline - and I didn't see it. I didn't see him. I was so wrapped up in my own story that I couldn't return that love." Although Barry still can't quite wrap his head around it, he knows that Eobard hadn't lied about that. "We saw you - you and your Eobard - before. You looked so happy together, you looked like gods." Barry wants to laugh at his foolishness.

"We're not gods, far from it. And our happiness isn't perfect, either."

"But you are happy together. You love each other, you respect each other. You wouldn't do anything to hurt your Eobard and he wouldn't hurt you."

Barry's doppelganger rests a hand on his back. "It took us a long time to get to that point, and we went through hell to get here."

"Somehow, I don't think you've been fighting for centuries. I think you've been together for centuries, you've loved for centuries. It shines out of you like a beacon." Barry can't look at his doppelganger, it hurts too much.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? Because you have something I've longed for? I'm not that petty."

The hand on his back rubs gently. "I wish I could fix this for you."

Barry has to laugh. "We really are the same person, always trying to fix things. Except that every time I try - with Eobard - I only seem to make things worse. We just end up fighting harder, hurting each other more."

His doppelganger gave a gentle tug, pulling Barry into his arms. It felt strange, to be comforted like this.

"You have to keep trying. You can't give up on him. Your Eobard loves you but he's so afraid."

Barry pulls away from the comfort. "I don't know if I can. I am worn out. Exhausted. It would be so easy just to give myself to the speed force. To have this over for once an for all."

"No, Barry. Please don't say that. Don't ever think that is a possibility." His doppelganger is horrified.

And Barry is, too. But right now, they idea is seductive. "We were so close - I thought we'd finally made peace." Those words were more for him than for his doppelganger. "I don't know how to go on." Barry lifts his head and stares out into the forest. "In a little while, Cisco's going to find me and open a portal and I'll go home. Eobard will find a way to follow and in a day - a week at the most - we'll be at it again. And for what?"

"Cisco?" His doppelganger seems shocked.

Barry nods. "Yeah, Cisco. He's still alive. He's the only one left. Iris and Eddie, Caitlin, Joe, they've been gone for so long." The grief rises like the tide. "I can barely remember their faces."

His doppelganger pulls him back into a gentle embrace and presses a kiss against his forehead. "I know. I miss my family, too. But like you, we're lucky enough to have our Cisco with us, too. He was the one who told us that you were here."

"He knew we broke through to your dimension?"

"Cisco told us that we had visiting speedsters, and while he didn't tell us who you were, I'm pretty sure he knew it was our doppelgangers that dropped in."

Barry chuckles. "That does sound like Cisco." But the amusement leaves him as he remembers the toll the centuries have taken on his friend. "Is yours doing well?"

"He's careful these days and limits his contact with the world at large. We cosset him as much as he'll allow."

Barry thinks of how many times he's tried to give Cisco the peace he deserves. But Cisco wants none of that and Barry is unutterably grateful for his friend's endless well of loyalty.

The late afternoon sun dips past the treetops and the shade is a benison. A part of Barry wants to stay here forever, living in the shadow of happiness. It would be so much better than the constant state of grief and anger.

His doppelganger can read him all too clearly. "You are not someone who can exist on the fringes. You are made to be in the center of life."

Barry sighs. "I know."

"I wonder how your Eobard's faring."

"He's not mine, not really."

"Oh, yes he is. Just as you are his Barry."

"I'm not his anything. Other than the Flash - his enemy."

Barry's doppelganger shakes his head and smiles. "You didn't see his face when I pulled you apart - he was terrified that someone had or could hurt you."

It would be so easy to deny that, to dismiss it as wishful thinking, but Barry can't help but remember the early, heady days as he was coming into his power, how protective "Dr. Wells" had been. It hadn't all been about what Thawne had needed from him - his speed. There had been - for a while - genuine concern. And quite possibly love, too.

Barry has been clinging to that memory for more than two centuries, hoping against all hope that he could get that back. "All I ask for is love, even for the space of a single day." Barry lets out a small sob. "I'd let him kill me afterwards. I'd die and consider my life well spent for just one chance."

"Aren't you being a little melodramatic?"

"Perhaps. But like I've told you, I'm tired of the fighting. Do you know what it's like?" Barry feels ready to explode. "I haven't been touched with anything more than casual affection in two centuries. There's been no one, Barry. No one. And then - to have a glimmer of hope - even for a few minutes, but to lose it for no understandable reason. To see you and your Eobard…" The bitterness is soul-killing.

Barry's doppelganger gets to his feet and Barry tries to follow suit, but he's pushed back into the chair. "Wait here, please."

Barry does, if just because he has nowhere else to go. At least not until his Cisco finds him, or the Cisco of this dimension opens up a breach so Barry - and Eobard - can return home.

Evening has arrived and a cool breeze banishes the intense heat, while a different set of insects begin their own symphony. Barry remembers summers nights like this, playing elaborate street games with Iris as Joe had watched them with a cop's careful eye. It's been a long time since he's allowed himself to remember his family, to remember the simple joy of familial love and companionship. Cisco is his dearest friend and Barry knows that he wouldn't have survived without him, but Cisco doesn't share his childhood, doesn't have those memories.

Barry wonders if the speed force will leave him with any memories or if he'll just becomes pure energy, to be gifted to the next speedster that's struck by lightning.

A door opens behind him, but Barry doesn't turn around. Neither of the doppelgangers pose a threat and if it is his Eobard, well - there are worse times and places to die.

It is his Eobard, but all he does is sit down.

Without thinking, Barry says, "I'm sorry. I wish I could undo what I did to you. I wish I could make things right." He's echoing his doppelganger's earlier words, and he's just as helpless to fix things.

Eobard says quietly, "There's nothing you should be sorry for. You did nothing wrong. All you did was pay to price for my madness. You're still paying that price."

Barry offers the only olive branch he has left. "My mother had to die."

Eobard looks at him in shock. "How do you know that?"

"About fifty years ago, I got caught up in a time vortex and landed in 2016 - not our Earth, not our timeline - but one similar. The world was dying, war and famine, meta-humans behaving like mad gods. All because my doppelganger on that Earth had traveled back in time to prevent her murder; he stopped you from killing Nora Allen." Barry aches from that knowledge. "You somehow created a fixed point in time. I can keep hating you for something that can't be avoided. And if I have to keep hating you, that means I have to hate myself and everything I am. And I'm done with hating."

Night has fallen and the stars are now visible. Barry finds the summer constellations; it's been a long time since he's seen them. His world is too polluted with light and dirt to enjoy this simple pleasure. The three bright stars are a comfort, but their ancient light can't guide him home.

"My doppelganger just told me about Nora's fate. I'm … sorry."

Barry can hear the truth in Eobard's apology. "Before, back when we'd stopped fighting. When you told me what I'd done to you, when I told you I loved you, regardless of what you'd done, it seemed like we had a chance. Why did attack me again?"

Eobard laughs, but it sounds more like a sob. "Because I'm a coward. Because I'm too afraid you'll remember everything I've done, all the damage I've caused, how I destroyed your life. That the happiness you offer will be snatched away and I'll be left with nothing."

"We had something once, a long time ago. We were happy. I was ignorant, but in retrospect, I would have given everything to keep that happiness. To have the right to love you, to be loved in return."

Eobard sounds as shattered as Barry feels. "We were happy. And I destroyed it."

Barry looks at Eobard. Even in the gloaming, he can see the lines of pain and weariness etched in his face. "I may be a fool, but I need to know. Can we try this again?"

There is a touch of fond exasperation in Eobard's voice, "Do you think that's wise, Mr. Allen?"

Hearing his name spoken, with that inflection, the one that always made Barry want to be better, be faster, be more, breaks all of the walls he's erected to protect himself against the emotional pull of this man. "Yes, I do." He grabs Eobard and does the only thing he could, he kisses him.

And to Barry's delight, Eobard kisses him back. Barry can taste the bitterness of regret, but there is sweetness there, too, in the passion. The taste of Eobard is more than just within Barry's memory. It is real and it is here and it is his. Barry's heart sings.

Eobard pulls back. He cups Barry's face and Barry can see the grief and regret and love in his eyes. . "Don't give up on me, Barry Allen. I couldn't bear it if you do."

"No, Eobard Thawne, I never will."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Barry is wholly unrepentant as he watches his doppelganger's attempt at reconciliation. He remembers the turning point with his Eobard and he's slightly envious of the path these two speedsters have in front of them.

Eobard's standing next to him, watching, too. "We're going to have company soon."

"Company?" Barry can't imagine who'd be visiting them now. Then he notices his husband's tiny smirk. "Cisco?"

"And he's not alone."

Barry lets out a startled laugh. "His doppelganger, too?"

"Yes, and apparently, they've been planning this for quite a while. It's taken them years to engineer this."

Barry rests his head against his husband's shoulder. "Should we be annoyed?"

"At being manipulated into the role of peacemakers? No, not at all. I remember my own struggles with our reconciliation. How wrongheaded I was, and how determined you were to absolve me."

"Love doesn't fix everything." Barry knows that too well. There are still days when then both struggle with the past. "But it goes a long way in healing all of those self-inflicted wounds."

Eobard says with quiet satisfaction, "We are not perfect, but then, perfection isn't something we should expect from other. Love is much more important."

Barry doesn't comment. He knows the price of that wisdom; what his Eobard had paid in blood and pain and his own set of deep regrets to learn that lesson. Barry hopes the couple sitting outside will finally learn that lesson, too, that love is the only path to happiness.

That love is the only thing that matters.

FIN