∟ 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐲-𝐬𝐢𝐱. ✔️

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the white rosespart one

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the white roses
part one

ANNA OPENED HER eyes quickly, gasping for air. She blinked at the white ceiling and slowly sat up, recognizing her childhood room. "What the hell," she whispered and slowly got up out of bed, looking around at the pictures and posters on the walls, the blue curtains and the light grey walls. "This is creepy," she muttered and left the room, walking down over the stairs quickly.

Anna paused at the bottom of the stairs when she looked into the living room, her eyes landing on a familiar figure standing next to the caution tape crossing the entryway to the dining room where her mother had been killed.

"Hi, Anna," Barry said and slowly turned toward the brunette, smiling softly at her as tears blurred her vision. The man then frowned as tears rolled down the blue speedster's face, his head tilting to the side. "I'm sorry, but you know I'm not really Barry. We knew you'd like to hear about this from a person you love."

Anna wiped at her cheeks, clearing away the tears that had fallen at the sight of her love's face. It hadn't been that long since she had seen his face and, while she knew she wasn't looking at her Barry, she couldn't help but feel relieved that she could see him again.

Still, even though she was looking at him again, anger flooded through her because she knew someone—something—was using Barry's face against her, and she was sick and tired of people using the faces of her loved ones against her.

"Who the hell is we?" She questioned, her voice laced with frustration.

"Hard to explain," the man replied and sat down on the arm of the sofa that was next to him. He gestured to the chair across the room from where he sat, nodding his head toward it but kept his eyes on Anna. "Have a seat. Please."

"Why choose Barry's face?" Anna asked and furrowed her brows at the man, fighting the urge to hug him just to remember what it felt like to be in his arms again.

"Have a seat. Please," he repeated, his tone sprinkled with annoyance, and gestured to the chair across the room once again.

Anna looked at the chair, instantly remembering it. The chair had been the one she had sat in every day after school to do her homework, and sat in every night to watch a movie with her mother before she was killed. It had been her favourite chair, so comforting and warm, but now it sat in a house that was oh-so cold.

Anna walked toward the chair and sat down, trying to piece together where exactly she had been sent to. "Where—"

"What do you know about the Speed Force?" Barry, or rather, the man who wore Barry's face, asked and clasped his hands together on his lap, raising his brows at the blue speedster.

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