Visiting his mother's grave. It's her birthday today.

Barry Allen stood at the edge of a peaceful graveyard, under the solemn cover of twilight. He ran faster than the human eye could track, fought countless metahuman foes, but in these silent moments, he was simply Barry, a son remembering his mother.

The scarlet speedster's fists were buried in his leather jacket pockets. He stood before the simple headstone, the engraved letters spelling out 'Nora Allen' reflecting the dwindling light of the day. He knelt down, solemnly placing his hand on the tombstone.

"Happy Birthday, Mom," Barry said, his voice barely a whisper, carried away by the evening breeze. He placed a bouquet of roses upon the grave. The petals quivered slightly under the caress of the wind.

Silence pervaded the cemetery, interrupted only by the distant sounds of Central City. It was a sharp contrast to the cacophony that usually accompanied his life. Here, time seemed to slow down, a rare luxury for the fastest man alive. A far cry from the chaos of running at intense, superhuman speeds.

Barry sat down on the soft grass, looking at the headstone, lost in a sea of memories. He thought about the nurturing warmth of his mother's love, her comforting voice that would soothe his childhood fears, and the bedtime stories she told that stoked his imagination.

"Accept the things you cannot change. Have the courage to change the things you can... and have the wisdom to know the difference," her words permeated through his mind.

It was 20 years ago today that she was murdered. How? The authorities didn't believe him: that a man in a yellow suit stabbed her and vanished. Placing a bloody knife littered with his father's fingerprints at the scene of the crime while his mother died in his arms.

"See ya next time, Mom..."

The painful memory brought tears to his eyes. He lost both his parents that day, his dad charged with a **** he didn't commit and incarcerated ever since.

But... what if things didn't have to be this way?

He wasn't just Barry Allen, he was The Flash! Sure, Bruce had a rule against him going back in time. But going back and changing something as minute as his mother's ****, in the grand scheme of things, really shouldn't matter all that much, right? She was just one life among billions. Besides, if things went bad, he could always just run back and reverse it.

His better judgement clouded by grief, he couldn't help but wonder how much better his life would have been with her in it. With his dad in it too.

Standing up straight with newfound determination, he aimed his fist outward. His lightning bolt ring opened, jettisoning a red suit which he donned in less than a second. Breaking out into a full sprint, lights and colors dulled as everything slowed down around him. At a marathoner's pace, he darted faster and faster, lightning dancing up and down his muscular form as he ran through space and time itself.

As he picked up a monumental amount of speed, he realized he was moving faster than he ever allowed himself to before. The Speed **** fluctuated around him, as if he was sprinting down a steam of neon yellow light. Visions from the past, present, and potential futures rippled through the stream.