Soothsayer ⚡ Barry Allen

Caution!

Barry hissed as I watched him remove his gear, his hair was damp with sweat as he pulled off his helmet, my lip pulled into my mouth so I could chew on it with worry. "How's your leg?" I asked softly, breaking the stiff silence between us.

"Cold, sore... It'll be fine tomorrow." Piece by piece, he stripped down and put the bits of his gear back on the bright yellow test dummy. I dunno if it was part of the hypermetabolism, but even though he was tall and lanky, he was also fairly muscular.

"I'm sorry." Barry rounded on me with confusion so I sat back in his chair with a sigh. "Maybe three years ago I knew what I was dealing with concerning Snart, but I went in half cocked, and you obviously weren't ready to take him on."

"Hey," he lightly scolded as he pulled on a Star Wars t-shirt, "that wasn't your fault. I got all finnicky because I thought you were in danger, I didn't have a level head." I frowned at him and broke away from his eyes to stare at his bruised knee and thigh. Rolling his eyes as blue strips ran over him, he hardly moved and he was suddenly wearing sweats. "I'm alright, Andy."

I met his eyes and frowned for another moment before speaking. "You need to tell me what we're dealing with here. I've been in prison for three years, the world has obviously changed while I've been gone." Nodding in understanding, Barry sat down and stretched out his left leg, trying to hide his grimace. He was obviously hurting and it was my fault.

"Well, just on my team, there's a guy who was struck by lightning -- that's me," he started, raising his hand for a short moment, "-- an ailen, an Amazonian, an Atlantian, a cyborg, and a rich guy." I raised my eyebrows and slowly took that in.

"So, basically I can expect everything except for Dracula?" I wondered aloud. Barry gave a short laugh and nodded.

"Last I checked movie monsters are still just movie monsters," he confirmed. "Superman is from Krypton and there's a Kryptonian ship crashed in the middle of Metropolis that S.T.A.R. Labs took control over. The cyborg dude" -- I noticed he was reluctant to tell me anyone's names but that didn't matter -- "is the son of one of the lab workers and wasn't the only piece of technology that they developed with alien tech."

"Snart stole his gun from there," I mumbled. So far I knew he worked with Batman and the recently dead, more recently revived Superman, but I didn't know the aliases of his other teammates.

"That isn't surprising. The only other things worth mentioning were the Parademons but they're not an issue anymore." I raised my brow and he waved it off, laying back on the ground with a soft groan. As thoughts of guilt floated into my head, Barry spoke as if he was reading my mind. "It wasn't your fault, alright? I've gotten hurt on the job before and it hardly lasts more than a few days."

"How are you so sure about that?" I asked, leaning forward so I could see his face better.

"I've gotten shot before and don't even have a scar. My hypermetabolism isn't just about food, my body heals really fast, too," he sighed. "Please, stop worrying so much." I huffed as I bit back another concerned remark and slouched. I shifted my view away from him and began reading the titles on the spines of his books, a few catching my eye before I felt his hand on my leg.

Looking back, I found Barry had sat up and was observing me with concern of his own. "I'm fine," I dismissed, not needing him to voice it.

"That's not what I'm worried about." I raised my brow in question, studying the worry and possible doubt scattered in his eyes. "Earlier you broke into the place you're staying and almost killed youself. Now you're running into danger without letting me know first. All in a two hour period. Do you have your head on straight?"

"I knew someone was following me," I muttered, hoping to pull a smile from him, though his expression didn't budge. "Look, I got out of prison a week and a half ago. There was danger around every corner in there. Living there I had a constant adrenaline rush, hardly went a day without one." I hesitated a moment as I took a deep breath, not able to meet his eyes as I fessed up. "I'm an ex junkie, I get by on adrenaline. I've been known for crazy stunts, especially when I haven't felt a rush in a while."

"That's okay," he mumbled in a softer voice. "Just be more careful -- and keep me in the loop, maybe." It was a long moment before I could meet Barry's eyes again, his kind smile coaxing a small one from me as well.

"Sure, kid." His smile grew a smigde before he laid back on the ground, it seemed like the only comfortable spot for him. I looked him over once more before standing. "I'm clocking in for the night," I sighed, standing at his right side as I walked away. My steps stuttered for a short second before they stopped when I felt Barry's hand on my ankle, his fingers subconsiously smoothing over my skin.

"I can walk you," he offered, bringing my eyes down to his eager face. I laughed and kneeled down, running my hand over his head.

"You need rest, Barry Allen. Don't follow me this time." I slowly ran my fingers over his cheek and winked at him, standing and leaving his place with a little smirk on my lips. When I was outside again I took a deep breath. It was 2:45 in the morning, Selina would be home soon. So, almost like a walk of shame, I began the twenty minute walk home.

My thoughts drifted to Barry, and the shift in myself I noticed when I was kneeling next to him. He hadn't changed me at all. I changed myself to be presentable for him. I went back on most of my own rules for the sake of getting closer to him. I rubbed my wrist where his electricty had met my skin, my body gaining a small, placebo rush just thinking about what it had done to me.

I laughed at myself as I realized something even better. Worse, maybe, depends on perspective. I wasn't just hooked on this combination of adrenaline and his electric shocks, I was hooked on Barry himself. Comepletely and utterly into that fool.