Soothsayer ⚡ Barry Allen

Merely The Beginning

I laid my hands out for Barry, letting him carefully pick out the scraps of metal and bits of glass from my bleeding hands. I didn't make many sounds, just hissed and cringed. Despite what he was doing, Barry was considerably gentle with me; every time I flinched he retreated some and his eyes darted to my face to ensure I was alright before continuing. My hands hurt considerably less without all the debris in them, but movement still caused discomfort.

With a relieved sigh, Barry set the tweazers down and met my eye. "This is gunna burn," he informed almost regretfully as he reached for the antibacterial solution. I nodded and took a deep breath, holding Barry's eyes until he looked down to pour it over my sliced palm and fingers. I sharply inhaled, Barry's hand keeping mine still as the hydrogen peroxide did it's job. After a moment of the chemical burning away bacteria, he poured water over my hand to clean everything away.

"Fuck," I whimpered quietly, my hesitation growing when I realized we still had to do the other hand.

"I'm sorry," Barry muttered as he took hold of my other hand. I shook my head and carefully pat dried the first hand to dristact myself from the pain in the other. When he had finished, both hands were shaking and I was fearing the pressure that came along with bandaging them. His expression was apologetic the whole time, carefully wrapping my fingers individually with band-aids and my palms with stark white gauze. And even though he wasn't moving anything but his hands, for brief moments after he had finished each hand I felt a light pressure on the heels of my palms as if he had kissed them.

He's moved like that before, without the preliminary bolts of lightning that ran over him and without appearing to have moved at all, but I didn't feel like bringing that up and simply appreciated the gesture. "Where did you take Cisco?" I asked instead. He knew I was hurt in the midst of him fighting and neither of us had mentioned the target since I made him the first priority after the fact.

"Iron Heights recently commissioned an Anti-Metahuman block. They keep most of the people I take down there," he explained as he cleaned up the bloody desktop where he operated on me.

"Well, I'm glad they kept me at Blackgate if that's what Iron Heights has come to," I weakly chuckled, barely even making his lips twitch. After he had finished cleaning, I mumbled a small, "Thank you." There was a serious air to Barry when he met my eyes and nodded, so I decided it would only make things worse if I told him my back was screwed as well.

Though, it seemed he didn't need me to say anything because when I tensely walked away he stopped me with a hand on either shoulder. I didn't need him to ask, I knew he wanted to see the damage. He had hardly said anything since he dropped me in the alley, earlier. After unbuttoning my flannel, I pulled the fabric off my shoulders, noticing the way his hands twitched in reaction. Turning my head over my left shoulder, and deciding it was a good day to choose not to go braless, I met his eyes and gave him a firm look. "I'm fine," I assured softly.

Barry just frowned and walked me into his bedroom, pointing me at the body mirror before turning me around and having me look at the extensive bruising across my shoulder blades and lower back along with the rough scraping that came from the box. "You are not fine," he argued with a pointed look. He was trying hard to keep his eyes on just my face, but after a moment he turned to the mirror to examine my tattooed back. "You hit more than just the wall, didn't you?"

I hestitated before sighing, "I went through one of those crates." He looked back at my face and pointed to his bed, probably moving to get more of that damn antibacterial as he left the room for a moment. I tossed my shirt onto his bed and looked around the space. He was such a nerd, it was clear with all the Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who, and other miscalenious Sci-Fi collectables and posters he had hanging around.

When he returned, he had cotton balls, the solution, and a dish, his eyes working over my back to figure out a plan of attack. "Uh, I'm gunna..." He motioned to my shoulder and I rolled my eyes eyes with a small smile and folded my arms over my chest.

"Go for it," I chuckled, turning my attention back to the room as he unhooked my bra. I pulled my hair to the side and let Barry work, my face warming when his fingers lightly drifted over my tattoo. I slightly turned my head to say something but hissed and turned back a second later, holding still so it would be easier for him. It was the worst where the bruising and cuts overlapped, not only sensitive to the solution but to touch as well.

But Barry was as gentle as he had been with my hands, maybe even more so now. After a few minutes, his touch left my skin and he hesitated for a long moment. Before I could speak, I closed my eyes when I felt his lips at the base of my neck. They were only there for a few, too short seconds before they left and he reclasped my bra. After his weight left the bed, I blindly reached to where I threw my shirt, cursing myself and him as I carefully pulled it on again.

Usually people didn't redress me after such an intamate exchange, in fact they did the opposite. However, I let him leave it at that as he moved to clean up again. I stood as I buttoned my shirt, doing the last of the buttons as he came back into the room. "How do you feel?" Barry asked softly, holding up a bottle of painkillers.

"Like I got thrown around by a multidimensional asshole," I chuckled, gratefully accepting the bottle.

"You could've told me where you were going before you were already there," he suggested as I took the medication. "You probably wouldn't have been hurt." I sighed and set down the water bottle he had given me, giving him a pointed look.

"I sent you off and went by myself for a reason, Barry. You won't get near half of these guys without first having someone on the inside. Having their trust is a big part of getting to them. I can do that." He stepped closer, his expression almost hurt.

"I asked you to keep me in the loop, Andy." His voice was softer than mine, more pleading than demanding. "If we're working together, that means together." He had said something on this topic earlier, the previous conversation being what drove me to split us up. Now, he had a valid reason, but he didn't want me anywhere near the danger. Danger was the main reason I had agreed to do it. I felt my irritation from earlier rise along with a fresh portion to it.

"Then that means together in the field, too," I retorted. "I didn't sign myself off as a rat just to sit by and watch someone else do all the work." Barry took a tense breath and dropped his eyes for a moment. When he looked back at me, our combined determination clashed hard. "I'll keep going out there and getting down in the muck with the criminals whether you approve or not. Even my own mother couldn't keep me from doing what I set my mind to, Barry."

"Fine," he mumbled, realizing that it was pointless to try and keep me sheltered. "But I'm walking you home." He turned and left the room, leaving me to follow with an involentary, slowly growing smile.