The Lightning Gave Me Hope

A World Reborn

Nine months had passed since the storm. Since the lightning strike that had changed everything.

Barry Allen had no memory of the time that had slipped away, a cold blank space where the world had moved without him. When he woke, the first thing he saw was Kara Danvers. His lifeline. His anchor.

She had been with him every day, though he hadn’t known it. Kara, the woman who had walked into his life just before that fateful night, had remained by his side since his heart had stopped. She was more than a stranger he’d met at a bar months ago—she was his friend, his confidante, his protector. And in that moment, when he first saw her as the world came back into focus, Barry felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known for months.

It wasn’t just relief from the trauma of the accident that brought him comfort. No, it was Kara herself. She had been there when he couldn’t fight for himself, holding onto him when he couldn’t stay conscious. She had been there when his world fell apart.

"Barry," Kara said softly, her voice like a balm to his soul. She had always been so warm, so full of life. But now, there was something deeper in her gaze—a strength born from years of quiet care. "You’re awake."

He blinked up at her, the last memories of his coma flickering in his mind. The strange sensation of electricity coursing through him, the darkness, and then Kara. Her hands on his skin. Her voice calling his name. He didn't know how to express the gratitude he felt for her. All he could do was manage a weak smile, his voice hoarse from the days of silence.

"Kara..." he whispered, his voice shaking. "You saved me."

Her eyes softened, her hand brushing against his cheek. "You don’t have to thank me," she said gently. "I’d do it again in a heartbeat."

Kara had changed a lot in the months Barry had been unconscious. She wasn’t just the woman who had entered his life as a stranger—she was now a fixture in Central City, no longer working at CatCo, but instead part of the CCPD. She had used her powers for good in ways Barry could barely understand, putting her strengths to work as a CSI. It was a shift from the world she had known, but one that had felt right to her.

"How long?" Barry croaked, still unsure about how much time had passed. He had no real sense of the months slipping by.

"Nine months," Kara said quietly. "But you’ve missed a lot more than time."

Before Kara could answer, the door to his recovery room opened, and Caitlin Snow, Cisco Ramon, and Dr. Harrison Wells entered, followed by a man Barry had come to consider family. Joe West, who had once been his foster father, looked at him with a mixture of emotions: concern, hope, and something darker that Barry couldn’t quite place. It was as if Joe had been holding something in for far too long.

"Barry," Caitlin said with a smile, though it was tinged with worry. "You’re really awake."

Cisco grinned, though his eyes also held a sense of cautious optimism. "Good to see you, man."

Wells, standing a little to the side, studied Barry with his usual cold, calculating expression, but there was a brief flicker of relief in his gaze. "Good to have you back," he said, his voice quieter than usual.

Kara stood and stepped back as everyone gathered around Barry’s bed, explaining how he had been in a coma for the last nine months. She filled in the blanks that had been missing from his life. The particle accelerator explosion had unleashed a wave of dark matter that changed everything, including the emergence of new metahumans across Central City. The S.T.A.R. Labs team had been studying the effects, and somehow, Barry’s case had become the focal point of their efforts. The lightning strike had been no accident—it had connected him to the strange energy left by the particle accelerator’s malfunction.

It wasn’t just his powers that had been affected. He hadn’t even known it yet, but his connection to the speed force had already begun to take root in his body. Still, no one had any idea what had really happened to him. No one knew that this was the beginning of something far bigger than they could comprehend.

The hardest part of Barry’s recovery had been the news that Iris West—the woman he had loved his whole life—was slowly dying. Her exposure to the dark matter had left her ill, fighting against a mysterious illness that no one could explain. She had been in and out of the hospital, and now, she was on her deathbed.

As Barry learned more, a heavy weight settled in his chest. The woman he had loved, the woman who had always been his best friend, was slipping away. He had missed all of it, lost all the time, and now it felt as though everything was falling apart.

When he was cleared to leave S.T.A.R. Labs, he didn’t hesitate. He needed to see Iris. He needed to say goodbye. And Kara, as always, was there by his side, offering him the support he so desperately needed.

They arrived at the hospital, and Barry’s heart was heavy with the knowledge that Iris was no longer the woman he remembered. Her once bright eyes were now clouded with illness, but she was still awake, still aware. She was lying in the bed, pale and frail, hooked up to the machines that were keeping her alive but unable to fix the damage that had already been done.

Joe was there too, though his face was distant, and his eyes betrayed a sorrow that Barry hadn’t seen before. The years of fatherly love had taken a toll, and Joe had stopped visiting Barry for a reason Barry didn’t understand. But in this moment, there was no time for questions, only grief.

“Iris…” Barry whispered, kneeling beside her hospital bed. He reached for her hand, his fingers brushing over her cold skin. His heart twisted. This was the woman he had shared his childhood with, the woman who had always been there—whether she knew it or not—for him.

Iris’s eyes fluttered open slowly, her lips parting in a weak smile. “Barry…” she whispered, her voice a fragile echo of the strength she had once had.

"Hey," he said, his voice cracking. "I’m so sorry, Iris. I wish I had been here. I missed so much."

Iris squeezed his hand weakly, her gaze never leaving his. "You’re here now," she said softly, her breath shallow. "And that’s all that matters."

Tears welled in Barry’s eyes, his heart breaking for her. “I don’t know what to say… I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

Iris smiled faintly, her thumb brushing over his hand as she held on to him with the last of her strength. “Barry… You don’t need to say anything. I’ve always known. I’ve always known how you felt.”

His heart ached at her words, and for a moment, he could barely breathe, the weight of their shared past settling in. But as much as he wanted to stay there forever, he knew it was inevitable. He could feel her slipping away, her pulse weakening with each passing second.

“I love you,” Barry whispered, his voice breaking.

“I know,” Iris replied softly, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I love you too.”

And then, just like that, she flatlined.

The sound of the monitor’s steady beep turning to a sharp, unrelenting flatline was the most haunting thing Barry had ever heard. He looked at Iris, desperate to hold on to the woman he had always loved, but it was too late.

Kara stepped forward, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. She didn’t say anything—she didn’t have to. Her presence alone was the comfort he needed, the only thing that could steady him in that moment. The world had taken so much from him, but it had also brought something new. Something he wasn’t sure how to live without.

Barry fell forward into Kara’s arms, the grief crashing down on him in waves. His shoulders shook with sobs, the sound of his broken heart echoing in the quiet room. Kara held him tightly, her arms around him, grounding him, offering him solace in the midst of his pain. She didn’t try to speak; she simply held him, letting him cry into her shoulder.

Outside the room, Joe stood in the hallway, his face contorted with grief. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides as silent sobs wracked his body. He couldn’t bear to be in that room anymore. He couldn’t face losing Iris, his own daughter, the way he had already lost so much of Barry. The pain was too much to bear, and he knew he couldn’t help his son right now—not when the man he had raised was in so much agony. So, he turned and walked down the hallway, his heart heavy with the loss of both his daughter and the son he couldn’t bring himself to look at.