Archive of Our Own ^beta

Felicity knew from the moment she looked into Barry’s eyes that he was her soulmate. The jade green of his eyes, while not the same shade as the mark on her wrist, was close enough for her to give the cute CSI a second look and try to catch his attention.

Green was an annoyingly commonplace color for people to be associated with, whether because they were environmentalists, they were in the army, or they considered smoking weed to be a personality trait. Felicity had met tons of boys in middle school alone who had liked green, or had some other reason why it might be the color that the-powers-that-be associated with their souls; she had met just as many girls with green dots on their wrists, in varying shades.

Had Felicity been more of a romantic, she might have been daunted by the vast number of meanings her soul mark could hold, and of the vast number of people who could potentially be her soulmate. As it was, she had kept her focus on honing her computer skills, and didn’t concern herself with finding true love.

But when the lanky stranger from Central City had waltzed into Applied Sciences uninvited, dripping with rainwater and rambling like an adorable know-it-all, Felicity couldn’t help but be a little smitten with him, and one glance at those dreamy eyes, and she thought that maybe finding her soulmate would be easier and more satisfying than she’d thought.

Barry knew from the moment Felicity gave him her name that she was his soulmate. All his life, he had puzzled at the F on his wrist, and at the severe lack of girls he knew whose names began with that letter—and of the ones he did know, he’d been puzzled by his own severe lack of interest in them. He had had a handful of girlfriends and crushes in his time, but never anyone who matched his soul mark. The girl he had had the strongest feelings for was his friend, Iris, and that was a name that decidedly did not begin with an F.

As a child, Barry used to hope pointlessly that there would be a way for his F to somehow point to Iris, anyway—maybe the name on her birth certificate was Francine, after her mother, but she’d had it changed to Iris at a young age due to her love of purple (it was reach, but hey, a guy could dream). Maybe she had been adopted and her parents had never told her, and her birth name had been something else. Maybe there had been some mix-up in the universe, and some guy in love with a girl named Fiona or Frieda or something was walking around with an I on his wrist that he would never be able to make sense of. But then, if there had been a mix-up in the universe, then Barry and Iris had been struck twice, because try as he might, Barry couldn’t find a connection between himself and the cobalt-blue dot on Iris’s wrist.

With time, Barry’s crush on Iris had faded, and he’d stopped entertaining such notions of finding a way to twist fate to work in his favor. They would always love each other as friends, and that was good enough for him. Then he had met Felicity, and everything seemed to fall into place at last.

Felicity was smart and funny and pretty, and she shared a lot of Barry’s interests. And she worked with the Arrow, so she was obviously good at keeping secrets and cared about protecting her city—both extremely valuable traits, as Barry would come to find when his life was turned upside down and he took on the role of Central City’s own protective vigilante.

Felicity couldn’t be a more perfect match—for a science nerd or for a superhero. There was no more searching to be done, as far as Barry was concerned; Felicity was the one.

Felicity couldn’t have agreed more, and the two had begun dating at once.

They kept their relationship long-distance for a long time, texting often and visiting one another on occasion—sometimes on official Flash or Arrow business, sometimes just to see each other. But over time, they had found that as much as they enjoyed each other’s friendship, they never got quite as close as they were to their friends that they saw every day. They certainly didn’t seem to be getting close enough to really consider themselves a couple, let alone soulmates.

There was only one thing to be done about it then: one of them had to move.

Barry would never have asked Felicity to uproot her life for him, and he had come very close to offering to just zoom into town more often, since it was less trouble than making Felicity take the train to see him. But Felicity had insisted that she wanted to spend more time in “the fun city”, because it would sure beat having to deal with all the gangs, assassins, terrorists, and the like that Team Arrow regularly had to face off with. Team Flash’s enemies were much less menacing, and the team itself more lighthearted and less secretive, and—well, Barry couldn’t really argue with that logic.

Felicity didn’t move all at once; first she would need to find her own place, and before she did that, she would have to first become familiar enough with the city to know where to establish her new home; her new life.

Until she was ready to move completely, Caitlin offered to let her crash at her place, and to help her go apartment hunting.

For the first few weeks, everything went swimmingly. Team Flash welcomed Felicity into their midst with open arms; Caitlin was delighted to have a new roommate, and Iris had a new shopping buddy, Joe and Cecile had another guinea pig to test their grandmothers’ recipes on to determine whose was better, and Cisco had a fellow tech nerd to brainstorm with. And together, Cisco and Felicity were finally able to co-engineer a security system for S.T.A.R. Labs that would keep all unwanted guests out (probably).

Felicity got along great with everyone, and everyone got along great with her.

The problems started when she and Barry realized that they weren’t spending enough time together alone.

Okay, not a big deal, they’d thought—so most of their time together was spent as part of a group. They would just have to start scheduling regular date nights to get some quality one-on-one time together.

It wasn’t so bad at first. They had similar tastes in restaurants and movies, so it was easy enough to pick outings that would be enjoyable for both of them. But then the movies would end, dinner would be over, conversation topics would run dry, and when there was nothing left to do, it would be just the two of them. Alone. Together. Bored out of their minds.

Some date nights ended early, with one or both of them offering up a half-formed excuse about having something they needed to do at home, or needing to help one of their friends with some vague project that never came up in conversation again. If they were lucky, someone would be out committing a crime somewhere, so the Flash would be called away to go and stop them, and they would be spared the effort of making something up.

Other nights, they would go home together, unsure of their own intentions, and this would result in their spending the rest of their evening together on the couch, with only a handful of options to bide their time until it was time to turn in for the night. This would be less of a problem if Barry and Felicity had had more heat between them. The physical attraction was there, but it wasn’t strong enough to motivate either of them to initiate much more than a light make-out session, and sometimes they didn’t even go that far.

Date nights weren’t the only roadblock in their relationship though; there was also the issue of their not being as infatuated as other couples, and whenever they were working a case or just hanging out with the rest of the team, they couldn’t help but notice the contrast between their own relationship and their friends’. Joe and Cecile were a playful, flirty couple, Eddie and Iris were always finding new ways to surprise each other, Wally and Jesse got downright giddy around each other, and Cisco often had a lovestruck and bittersweet smile on his face when he returned from his visits to Earth-19, always feeling they could never be long enough. But Barry and Felicity had no such romantic ardor for each other. He bought her flowers sometimes, and she said they were pretty, and sometimes they went for long walks together and did other stuff that could be considered romantic. But were romantic activities really romantic on their own if the people doing them weren’t acting out of affection?

But perhaps worst of all, Barry and Felicity weren’t even each other’s favorite person to spend time with in a non-sexual, non-romantic scenario. Barry had always heard old couples say that the key to a long marriage was building a solid friendship with your partner so that you wouldn’t get bored with each other when the honeymoon phase ended. Barry and Felicity were only dating, and they were pretty sure they hadn’t had a honeymoon phase yet. And as awful as it felt to admit to himself, the companionship Barry found in his other friends was deeper and more enjoyable than what he had with Felicity. She had a fun personality, certainly, and she could be a good source of emotional support, but there was nothing she brought to his life that he didn’t get just as good, or even better, coming from Cisco. Why wasn’t their relationship growing the way it was supposed to? What was he doing wrong?

It had finally come to an end one day after a Flash and Kid Flash training session, when Barry had reluctantly sighed that he should probably get ready for his date with Felicity, and Wally had blurted out eloquently, “Dude, are you even happy?”

It seemed to be all Barry had needed to hear to recognize how ridiculous it was to be trying so hard to make a fairytale romance out of a relationship he had such limited enthusiasm for. And so, with a little encouragement from his brother, he had set out to tell Felicity how he really felt.

Felicity had beaten him to the punch, having had a similar conversation with Cecile, who had felt the waves of apathy coming off of her at the mention of the night she and Barry had planned together. Once both their feelings were out in the open, it had been all downhill from there.

“I really like you, Felicity.”

“I really like you, too, Barry. But there’s just…”

“There’s no sparks.”

“None.”

“I kept hoping, in time, we’d fall in love, but—”

“It ain’t happening.”

“Yeeeaaah, it’s really not.”

Breaking up had never been an easier or more relieving experience. Their friendship survived—improved, even without the self-inflicted pressure of trying to make it into something more than it was—but it soon became apparent that that wasn’t enough to keep Felicity in Central City.

A week or so after their breakup, Felicity had walked into the Cortex to announce to the team that she was returning to Starling City. Everyone was sad to see her go, but they were all in support of her choosing whatever made her happy.

Most everyone had said their goodbyes to her then, before shuffling off to do whatever they’d had to do while there were no villains to focus on catching. Barry, however, had decided to accompany Felicity to the train station to see her off. It just seemed like the right thing to do, seeing as how she had come all this way out just to be with him in the first place.

The train, of course, was not the fastest mode of transportation between cities. Barry had offered to run Felicity there, and he had also pointed out that, while Cisco was otherwise preoccupied on another earth at the moment, she could always travel by breach if she used an extrapolator. But Felicity had insisted on taking the train; she liked the downtime that the commute offered her, and she wanted to enjoy the scenery as the train sped along.

So here they sat, waiting together on a wooden bench for Felicity’s ride home to pull into the station.

Felicity stared at the soul mark on her wrist as she waited, brushing her fingers over it lightly. “You know Lyla’s is green, too?” she said, breaking the contemplative silence they had been sitting in for the past several minutes. “It’s brighter than mine—almost luminescent—and she hasn’t figured out what hers means, either. I asked her once if she thinks it’s pointing to Diggle. She said she didn’t care, because she’s with the person she loves, and it doesn’t matter if he’s the person the universe meant for her to end up with or not.”

Barry hummed thoughtfully. “Leave it to Lyla to tell destiny to shove it.”

“Probably for the best,” said Felicity. “Bright colors aren’t really Dig’s thing. He’s more of a navy and burgundy kinda guy.” After a moment’s consideration, she added, “His mark is an L, though, so who knows? God, these things are so weird.”

“Yeah, they are,” Barry agreed. Then he turned to look at Felicity, the mention of Lyla and Diggle’s marks piquing his curiosity about the rest of Team Arrow’s. “Hey, what’s Oliver’s?” he asked. “Do you know?”

Felicity rolled her eyes fondly. “He claims he doesn’t have one,” she replied. “Of course, if that were true, he wouldn’t have to hide it under that wristband all the time. It’s like part of his whole playboy image or something; can’t let the girls you’re hooking up with see your soulmate’s initial in case it gives her a complex—for one reason or the other.”

“Wait, you mean he keeps it on when he’s—”

“Mhm,” Felicity confirmed with a nod of her head. “Just ask Sara. He sleeps in it, too.”

“Wow,” said Barry, a little impressed by Oliver’s level of determination, and more than a little disgusted by the concept as a whole.

“Anyways, I think I’m just gonna go back to not trying to find mine,” said Felicity. “Soulmate, that is—my soulmate. I don’t have a wristband that I sleep with. I mean in. I mean I don’t—oh whatever, you know what I mean. What I’m trying to say is, it was nice thinking I’d found my soulmate for a while, but…I don’t know, I think if the universe really wants for me to be with someone specific, it can just bring him to me. I can figure out if the mark is for him later.”

Barry nodded. “I think that’s a very good idea,” he said. “I should probably do that, too, honestly. I mean, I’m not even friends with any other girls who have F for a first initial. If I assume every one I meet that I remotely get along with is her, then I’m probably just gonna get more of this.” He gestured at himself and Felicity as he spoke. “No offense.”

“None taken,” said Felicity. “Although I have to ask—have you ever considered the possibility that it might be Caitlin?”

Barry turned and looked at her like she had sprouted another head. “That doesn’t start with an F,” he said flatly, unsure how else to respond to such an off-the-wall suggestion.

“Frost does,” said Felicity. “And that orangeish dot on her wrist does look kind of like the lightning you make when you run.”

“Oh,” said Barry. But he shook his head. “Nah, I’m pretty sure it’s orange because of Firestorm,” he said. “Besides, Ronnie’s soul mark was a C—and believe me, if you’d ever seen them together, you’d know they were meant for each other.”

“Mm. Good point,” said Felicity. After a brief pause, she added, “And men’s soul marks are more by the book, anyway. I knew a guy whose soulmate was a girl who went by her middle name, and everyone thought he was with the wrong person because his soul mark was still her first initial. I knew another guy whose soul mark was ‘JM’, and we all thought he was going to be a polygamist until he started dating a guy named John-Mark. But with girls, you never know what ours is gonna mean—is it his favorite color, his eye color, is there a color in his name somewhere? Boy, whoever the god of love is, he’s sure sexist as hell.”

Barry let out a huff of laughter. “Yeah, your team really got screwed over there,” he said. “It is weirdly reassuring to know that other guys’ marks aren’t some cryptic puzzle they have to decode, though—y’know, beyond the thousands of names that could possibly start with that letter.”

“Well,” Felicity said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t your soulmate. But I’m sure she’s out there somewhere and just waiting for the universe to bring you two together.”

Barry nodded his head. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “We’ll find each other; I still believe that. And I’m sure you’ll find yours, too.”

Felicity smiled. “Thanks.”

Another stretch of silence passed between them as they watched the platform start to fill up with more people the nearer they got to the next train’s arrival time.

“Are you sure you want to move back?” Barry asked after a little while. “I mean, after all, you are leaving the ‘fun city’.”

Felicity laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure,” she replied. “Thea says Team Arrow could use some ‘nerd expertise’. She also says that Oliver’s somehow gotten even broodier since I moved, and if he keeps at it, the whole city will actually be swallowed up in his own personal rain cloud.”

They both chuckled at that for a moment, and then Felicity’s expression turned softer. “Besides, I miss everyone,” she said. “I even kind of miss some of the things I thought I wanted to get away from. Maybe it just took some time away for me to realize that I was in the right place all along.”

Barry gave an approving nod. “Then that’s definitely where you need to be,” he agreed.

The train arrived not long after that, and Barry and Felicity said their last goodbyes, wishing each other well, and then they parted ways, both feeling happier that they could finally get on with the rest of their lives.

So they hadn’t been each other’s soulmates after all. That was okay. Most people didn’t find their soulmates on the first try, and they were both young and had plenty to do that didn’t involve diving headlong into a relationship, anyway.

The sun was beginning to set as Barry left the train station, wandering aimlessly at first, and then finding himself heading in the direction of S.T.A.R. Labs. He wondered if Cisco had gotten back from his date yet, and if so, how it had gone. Maybe there would be a fun new story to hear about his escapades on Earth-19.

Dusk had fallen by the time he arrived, and he meandered about from room to room in the big empty facility, before ultimately coming to a stop in the lounge.

Cisco was sitting at the bar, one hand resting on his knee and the other holding on to the edge of the bar as he swiveled back and forth listlessly on one of the stools.

Barry frowned, stepping further into the room. This wasn’t the same wistful mood that getting back from a date with his kickass girlfriend usually left him in. Something was wrong.

“Hey,” Barry said as he drew nearer to the bar.

Cisco looked up in surprise, having just realized that he was no longer alone. “Oh, hey,” he said casually, quickly turning his gaze back to the bar and letting his curls fall forward lazily.

Barry inclined his head a little, trying to get a good look at Cisco’s face, but he couldn’t see past his hair from where he was standing. “You okay?” he asked, taking a tentative step closer.

Cisco didn’t look up. “Yeah,” he responded in a stilted voice. “I’m great.”

Uh oh.

Barry had heard those words in that tone before. Something was definitely wrong.

He came the rest of the way over to the bar, stopping just beside the stool Cisco was seated at.

Cisco pretended not to notice that Barry was now standing beside him, and he adjusted his position, folding both arms in front of him on the bar in a manner meant to look more relaxed, and turning his head just the slightest bit, effectively obscuring his face behind his hair once again.

“Hey,” Barry said, more softly this time, and he gently set his hand on Cisco’s forearm.

Cisco stiffened a little at the touch, but he didn’t try to turn away again.

“What’s going on?” Barry asked. “You know you can talk to me.”

Cisco remained silent, but the tension in his body was starting to fall away as he collected himself. Then, slowly, he swiveled his stool toward Barry and lifted his head to meet his gaze. His eyes were dry, but the threat of tears wasn’t too far off, and he heaved a little sigh before he finally spoke: “I finally found out what Gypsy’s real name is.” With a sad smile, he added a little unsteadily, “It’s Cynthia.”

Barry’s heart ached for his friend as he made the connection that Cisco was visibly hoping he would make on his own so he wouldn’t have to say it aloud yet: the first letter of “Cynthia” didn’t match the mark on his wrist.

“Dude, that sucks. I’m so sorry,” said Barry. “Are you guys okay?”

Cisco shrugged, starting to pick idly at his fingernails. “If you can call two people who had an amicable breakup ‘okay’, then yeah, I guess,” he mumbled.

Barry’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, so…that’s it?” he asked, a little thrown by this revelation. “I mean, Wally and Jesse aren’t a soul mark match, but—I don’t know, they seem pretty happy together. We don’t really know that you can’t make it work with someone who’s not your soulmate. D-do we?” He tacked on the last part uncertainly. Sure, none of Cisco’s other exes’ names had started with the right letter, and those relationships had all ended, despite how promising they might have been in the beginning—but was that really by design, or just coincidence? Was anything in life ever really certain, after all?

Cisco shook his head. “It’s not just that,” he said. “When I brought up the whole mark thing and asked if she thought that would be an issue when things got more serious between us, she said it didn’t matter, because she doesn’t want things to get too serious. Turns out, the whole marriage-and-kids thing isn’t something she’s interested in. Like, ever.” He looked up at Barry again as he added, “But I am, and it’s not something I want lightly.” Then he sighed, looking down again. “So we talked it over some more, and in the end we both agreed to break it off. It just…it seemed like it made sense.”

It sounded like a rational enough decision to Barry, but the doubt in Cisco’s voice held him back from saying so. “Didn’t it?” he asked instead, keeping his tone neutral.

Cisco shrugged. “I guess,” he said. “I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid to break up with someone who makes me so happy right now, when I won’t be ready to start a family for another few years, at least. But…”

“But…you already know what you want, and you don’t want to keep getting more and more attached to someone you’re never going to be able to move forward with?” Barry offered.

Cisco nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. He fell silent then, staring down at his hands.

He looked so miserable, it hurt Barry to think how he must be feeling, and he tried to think of just the right thing to say to somehow make this whole unfortunate situation suck a little less. It was hard when he knew that what Cisco really needed was time. There were a lot of unpleasant things in life that Barry was able to speed up the process for, but healing from a broken heart was not one of them.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” he said finally. “I know it hurts, and I wish there was something I could do to make it stop. But it sounds like you made the decision that was right for you. If you know the kind of life and relationship that you want, then I think you should go for it, and not let anything hold you back.” He shrugged. “And y’know, I’m sure it’ll all be easier once you find the right person.”

Much to Barry’s confusion and horror, rather than comforting Cisco, these words just seemed to make him feel worse. His eyes started to shimmer, and he blinked rapidly to get his composure back under control, sniffing a little.

Crap, what did I say?

“Cisco?” Barry said, looking him over with concern. “Hey. What’s wrong? Is there something else?”

Cisco rubbed his fingers against his forehead wearily. “It’s just that,” he said. “I don’t know if I will find the right person. Barry…what if I don’t have a soulmate?”

Barry blinked. Where was this coming from? “What are you talking about?” he asked. “Of course you do. You have the mark right there on your wrist! You just haven’t met her yet.”

“Unless I have, and just didn’t know it at the time,” said Cisco. “But if I did, then it’s already too late for me to do anything about it, because she…she blew up.”

Barry just stared at Cisco in confusion for a moment. But between the initial on Cisco’s wrist and the limited—if still above average—number of people they’d known who had gotten caught in explosions, it didn’t take him long to realize who he was referring to.

“Aw, man, no,” he said, shaking his head. “No way. You only knew her for like, a couple days.”

“What if that’s all I get?” Cisco countered, growing frantic. “Caitlin only had a few years with Ronnie before she lost him. Dante had an S on his wrist, and we never even got to find out what it stood for. What if I never get the chance to fall in love, either? What if I’m going to spend the rest of my life not knowing if I just haven’t met my soulmate yet, or if I lost her before I even had time to really get to know her? What if it’s over before it’s even started?!”

“It’s not,” Barry said insistently. “Hey, look at me.” He set his hands on Cisco’s shoulders and waited for him to look him in the eye. “There is someone out there for you, alright? I don’t know who, or when you guys are gonna meet, but you will. And when you do, you’re gonna be glad it never worked out with anyone else, because you finally found the person who is just right for you. Don’t give up now, it’ll all work out. You’ll see.”

Cisco breathed in deeply and nodded his head, letting Barry’s words sink in and trying to believe them. Then he let the breath out in a soft sigh. The doubt was still there, Barry could see, but giving voice to it seemed to have lessened its weight a little.

After he’d taken enough time to steady himself, Cisco said, “I guess it’s just hard to picture everything working out when all I can think about is everything that’s not working out.”

Barry looked from side to side, as though doing so could help him find the solution to making Cisco feel better. “Well…do you wanna go out and find something to take your mind off of all this?” he asked. “We could go bowling or to laser tag, or whatever—your pick.”

Cisco gave him a small smile, grateful for the offer, but Barry could see his answer in his eyes before he even said it. “Thanks, but…I’m not really feeling up to it right now. I think I’m just gonna hang out here for a while. I don’t think I’d be much fun tonight, anyway.” With a hesitant look in his eyes, he added, “Another time?”

Barry nodded. “Yeah, of course,” he said. “Whenever you want.”

Cisco gave him another appreciative smile. Then he swiveled back toward the bar, as if to signal to Barry that now was the opportune moment for him to be making his exit if he wanted to be able to make most of his night. At least one of them still could.

Taking his cue, Barry slowly backed away and then started for the door, giving Cisco his space, though he had no idea where he intended to go or what he wanted to do.

He had barely had time to consider his options when he looked back saw that Cisco had let his gaze drop again, and with it, his smile and the rest of his efforts to look more optimistic than he felt.

Barry stopped. In an instant, his mind was made up, and he started back toward the bar.

As he did, he kept his eyes on Cisco, watching him for any sign that he didn’t want him to be here—that maybe he really wanted to be left alone—but he saw none; just the look of surprise that flickered across Cisco’s face the moment he caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye, which was quickly replaced by a touched, if slightly guilty look as Barry pulled up the stool next to his and made himself at home.

For a moment, nothing happened. The two just sat quietly, Barry on the fence between saying something to ease the odd tension that had set in or just leaving it alone, and Cisco fidgeting awkwardly and avoiding eye contact, as he clearly seemed to think he was putting Barry out in some way.

When a minute or so had passed with no change to Cisco’s demeanor, Barry decided it was time for him to do something. Mimicking Cisco’s subtle-yet-deliberate manner of moving from earlier when he’d tried to hide that he was upset, Barry casually laid his forearm across the top of bar, turning his palm upward, and then he just waited.

The movement caught Cisco’s eye, and his brow furrowed as he just looked at Barry’s hand for a moment, trying to determine whether or not Barry was doing what he thought he was doing. Another moment later, he glanced up at Barry, a hesitant curiosity in his eyes.

Barry just gave his eyebrows an expectant bounce, unable to help a little grin. Yes, it’s an invitation.

Cisco grinned back. Moving his own arm across the space between them, he slotted his hand into Barry’s, relaxing a little bit more when Barry gave it a comforting squeeze.

And that was how they remained, as the last of the daylight faded into darkness, and the buildings outside the window behind them started to light up as Central City’s night life got into full swing. The world outside was all abustle, but inside the lounge, everything was peaceful and quiet, with only the steady whir of the refrigerator and the occasional sound of the S.T.A.R. Labs air conditioner kicking on to break the silence.

Sitting silently at the lounge’s bar and doing nothing wasn’t exactly how Barry had expected to be spending his evening, but he didn’t so much as consider doing anything else. He was going to stay by Cisco’s side for as long as he needed him to, even if that meant he would be here all night.

Their joined hands shifted now and then as the evening wore on, and eventually found their most comfortable and natural position, with Cisco’s forearm crossed just slightly over Barry’s and the side of his hand resting on the bar so that both of their hands were now side by side, rather than one on top of the other. Both grips had loosened a bit but without letting go, and Barry was content to leave them as they were for a good while longer.

Funny how the F on his wrist aligned so neatly with the B on Cisco’s.