"(Y/N), you have to wake up."
Brows furrowed, you open your eyes.
The bright lights and faint smell of sterilizers isn't foreign to you.
"You're awake Ms. (L/N)."
Turning your head, you send the male a weak smile.
"Sorry about that Dr. Wells."
He shook his head.
"You're not a speedster, you shouldn't put yourself in danger. You could have died."
His tone is disapproving, not that you're surprised. Most of your conversations seem to go this way.
"Just because I don't have crazy powers doesn't change who I am. To protect and serve. That's the oath I took." You force yourself to sit upright because you really don't want to hear anymore of his lectures.
"I'm not one of your scientists, you can't tell me how to live my life. My friends were in trouble so I did what I had to."
It's annoying the way he comes down on you. You're not Barry. The young CSI clearly idolized Harrison and you understand why, but you don't like being treated like a kid.
Standing, you survey your surroundings.
"Where the hell is my gun?"
Moving so quickly after getting blasted into a wall wasn't the smartest idea, but it's better than staying here.
"Right here." He pulls it from the side of his chair, along with your badge.
"Detective West told me to alert him the moment you woke up. Barry and the others are over at the precinct giving their statements."
You nod, moving to take your belongings.
He hands it to you and you give your thanks as you holster your gun and strap your badge on. There's a dull ache at the back of your head. You turn, pressing a hand to your temple in discomfort.
"At least let me check you for a concussion."
"So you can scold me some more, I think I'll pass."
You try to brush it off, but he takes your hand softly.
"Please."
You hate it when he does that. Looks at you with so much concern. It's irritating. From the moment you realized how you felt, you told yourself never to cross that line. He's a member of Team Flash. Your relationship is strictly centered around protecting the city. Nothing more can happen. It was a stupid deal you created in your head. Whenever someone got close, you were sure to create that distance. Because somehow you always end up being the one who gets hurt.
"I'm not some project that you can fix."
His hold is still firmly on your wrist.
"I don't recall ever saying that this was a project. I understand that my reputation might not say much for my character. It would explain your curt replies."
You pull your hand back.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
He raises a brow.
"Are you implying that there is another reason that you'll so readily throw yourself in front of a truck for me, yet you can hardly hold a conversation."
"You're reading too much into that. There's no underlying reason. I'm a cop. Danger is what I do."
"It seems much deeper than that."
