Author's Notes: What a treat. I feel I should write something profound! But truthfully, I'm glad you read this fic and I genuinely hope you enjoyed it. Cheers to our next adventure.

Affectionately and forever yours,
trufflemores

"Hey," The Flash says, crouching beside the crushed car door with exquisite care, "hey, it's okay."

In the midnight darkness, half-conscious, the middle-aged woman tilts her head towards him. With delirious wonder, she remarks, "I'm dreaming."

The Flash smiles a little. "I wish you were," he admits. "I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? Don't move." In a – well, Flash, he's there, the door pried clear off. He unbuckles her seatbelt and shuffles closer.

Reaching up, she cups a bloodied hand to his cheek. "You're missing."

"I was," The Flash says, holding her hand there for a moment, red glove masking the red blood, before gently laying it back at her side. "I'm back now." Shuffling forward, he gets his head and shoulders inside the car, suddenly very close, a lightning creature, ethereal, mythical, and she doesn't have time to ask where he was before she's whisked away.

She opens her eyes and Flash is gone, a-dream, her gaze fixed on the burning car as she sits in the grass sixty yards away.

Minutes later, an EMT sweeps in. She says, "I saw him."

She never clarifies.

. o .

Just off the playground beside a big white oak, The Flash in full regalia ties a five-year-old boy's shoelaces for him. "I tripped," the boy admits.

"S'okay. I do, too." Sitting back on his haunches slowly, Flash smiles at him. "You good?"

The boy nods once and says, "I wanna be fast like you."

The Flash replies, "I wanna be brave like you."

The boy puffs up his chest and a shout of his name draws him back onto the playground.

No one sees how gingerly The Flash stands.

. o .

"Let me help," The Flash says at sunrise, and the old woman looks over at him and smiles a little.

"Thought you weren't coming back this time."

"And miss my favorite girls?" The Flash replies, smiling back with a bag of chicken feed over his shoulder, scooping out a handful of grains for the hens near his feet. "Not a chance."

. o .

Sans stolen cash, the twenties-something shoplifter sits on the darkened curb and puts his hands to his forehead. "Shit."

Seated next to him, The Flash replies without looking at him, "They're gonna process you." Sirens blare in the distance. His curbside companion doesn't try to run. There's no point. "The cops. You're going to go with them. You're going to plead guilty and you're going to do whatever probation they put you on. You may face jail time. You're going to do that, too, if need be. You may have a fine. You're going to pay that. And then, once you've done all that, you're going to walk out of the legal system and live the rest of your life." The Flash looks at him and finishes, "It's going to stay with you, but you're more than your scars. Don't let this be the defining moment of your life."

The Flash vanishes just before the cops arrive. The shoplifter stays and lets himself be taken away.

. o .

A beagle's tail whaps happily against The Flash's chest as he carries "Scout" home to the address on her collar.

It's late when they arrive, but her owners are still delighted to see them.

. o .

On the sixth day of his return, just over two weeks since the Crisis, Cisco asks, "Are you sure?" and Barry holds onto him for a full minute and promises, "Never more."

Eobard says, "Back at it, Flash?" and Barry replies, "Let's be better. This time, let's be better."

Wally and Jesse insist, "You can take more time," but Barry clasps their shoulders and tells them, "I'm sure."

Joe reminds, "Be careful," and Barry nods and lets Joe hug him as tightly as he dares.

"Easy, speedster," Cindy concurs, and Barry hugs her, too.

At last it's just Iris, and it feels like goodbye, but she cradles his face and he bows so she can kiss his forehead. "I trust you," she says, and he squeezes her waist and gently, gently lets go.

Then he steps away from all of them, and smiles, and takes off into the night, two yellow streaks following, we're a team.

And Barry's right: they're ready.

. o .

It's the shortest article she's ever written. She doesn't expect them to accept it, but almost as soon as it's submitted, CCPN has it at the top of their webpage.

Excluding titles, it's only seven words.

FLASH BACK

May 2, 2024

By Iris West-Allen

Central City's finest is back in town.

Everyone knows, and the world finally exhales.

Iris lets out a deep breath and glances down at the sleeping speedster at her side. She sets her phone on the side table next to the couch, amused that he dozed off on her, literally on top of her, I'm not gonna fall asleep a distant humored mumble that tapered into soft Speed-purrs, little healing sounds working to counteract the strain of his very existence. Brushing a hand through his hair, loving, loving, loving him with every fiber of who she is and every exhale of who she wants to be, she knows he feels the same way.

She lets him sleep, and for the first time in a long time, when she joins him, she finds peace.