We Are the Impossible {the Flash/Barry Allen}

~Four~ UNEDITED

•BECCA•

Adrenaline.

It coursed through my veins, livening each cell and heightening my senses. The group of burglars- a family desperate for money- were unconscious and tied in a makeshift rope-like-apparatus. My eyesight is fuzzy, and I am partially covered in blood, most of it mine. I know my consciousness wouldn't last long, and I should get somewhere nobody will find me and know who- or better yet what- I am.

I decide to use my speed for as long as possible before I black out completely, at least then I'll be as far from the crime scene as possible. I attempt to think of a place familiar, and my mind springs to C.C.Jitters. Before I know it, I am painfully on my way.

Not too long after I begin running, I find myself stumbling in an alley nearby. There's a person at the opening, talking fervently on his cell. My mind is hazy, and All I can think of is 'help'. He can help me. I'm nearly to the end when he hang up the phone, and I use my last bit of energy to appear in front of him. His eyes widen, and his jaw drops as he examines me.

As I collapse, all I can think of is how this man is in charge of letting me die, or saving my life. And with what my last effort showed I could do, I wasn't sure which I wanted to happen anymore.

Earlier that day

I had left Iris back at the cafe before returning to my hotel in order to relax. That didn't last long however, when my phone had gone off to a familiar tone.

I may never be as good as Daniel was at computers or hacking or technological intelligence, but he has taught me a few things, one of which is how to connect my phone to the local emergency stations number, so that every time they got a call I could simply press a button and listen in. This skill had saved Sam's life-and my own for that matter- more than a few times, and so the whole process became second nature to me. I picked up my cell and pressed the answer button, where conversation on both ends was already taking place.

After nearly a minute of listening to a hysterical caller explain in little detail what was going on and where, and I didn't hesitate to throw on shoes and start on my way there.

Come fifteen minutes later and here I am, barely sweating, rather bloody and proud. Proud that I had saved a few lives- innocent children the family of thieves had taken hostage for ransom- and reunited family and friends. My elated state ended shortly however, when I realized my predicament; not only physically, but emotionally as well.

Physically, I was soon going to be losing consciousness. In a last ditch effort, the father of the family had turned his gun to a four year old girl and pulled the trigger. Seconds later and the girl- who I now know of as Melanie- was in hysterical on the ground, and I was profusely bleeding from my left shoulder. I turn to find the man right next to me, and a small blade tears through my right hip up to  my third rib. I hissed at the pain, and swiftly landed a punch to the mans face. This wasn't the first time I had fought injured, and the others I've sparred with just happened to be much more experienced. It wasn't long before I found myself staring at the culprit family, all restrained together in a small heap of unconscious members. Their injuries were miniscule, especially compared to mine, and I just hoped any excess blood around wouldn't trigger curiosity in authorities. And speaking of authorities, I needed a plan, fast.

Current time

I couldn't escape it, the nightmare. It had been reoccurring over the past few weeks, and now it played in repeat in my mind. I had thought process, so I assumed that meant I was alive, thanks to the man at the end of the alley. I wondered what he told the emergency responders, if he told them about my speed. I hoped not, for that could mean trouble when I awake.

My train of thought is brought elsewhere as I appear in the parking lot of a hospital, my best friends and chosen family walking beside me. I'm content, but something is clawing at the back of my mind, telling me I should run. I should take the hands of those I love, and get as far away as possible as quickly as possible, to avoid imminent tragedy. But I was never one to run from my problems, and so I continued on with my two companions, laughing at whatever seemed to be amusing.

And then it would happen. The yellow man would appear, circling is before killing my best friends, chanting how it's my fault, and I could have saved them but I didn't. I was selfish, and unworthy of the love I felt from either of the two most important people in my life. It's not long until they join in, voices hoarse and scratchy. They rise from their limp positions on the asphalt, approaching me blazing eyes of rage. I'm in hysterics by now, and turn away from those I love in order to cease my movement and accept my fate. Then it all fades from my mind and the nightmare begins again, Daniel and Sam by my side, previous predicament forgotten, now nothing but a nagging in the back of my mind.

I should've saved them. This is all my fault.