Soothsayer ⚡ Barry Allen

Dizzy Dreamer

When Barry and I turned in for the night, I laid down and closed my eyes, but I didn't sleep. I waited as Barry stayed up for at least another hour, aware of each shift in position, each movement drifting over my skin, every change in his grip. I had my hand laid over his chest, so when his heart rate picked up an alarming pace, I kept my eyes closed and shifted so my head was tucked under his chin, curling protectively around him.

Barry released a deep, wavering breath as he held me tighter and as much as I was wanting to help him, I didn't want to upset him further. A soft hum escaped my lips when he started running his fingers through my hair, remaining silently like that for a long time. Eventually, he tensely fell asleep under me, his hand halfway through my hair. I wanted to sleep, I was relaxed enough, tired enough, in the perfect spot... But everything in me was screaming to check on him.

Moving carefully, I was able to draw his hand out of my hair and into my left hand as I propped myself up, returning my other hand to his heart. It hadn't slowed down hardly any from before I moved on top of him, and he was sleeping, for Christ's sake. Barry's face was mostly relaxed, but his lips were slowly forming a tight line. I took a moment to study his breathing to realize he wasn't sleeping either. I took a silent breath but decided not to push it. Instead, I placed a soft, lingering kiss between his eyes and whispered, "Ypóloipo éfkolo, ta mátia mou."

I couldn't help but smile at the way his lips and ears twitched at the same moment. Without letting go of his hand, I found a comfortable spot in his hold and relaxed there. Barry shifted his grip on my hand and smoothed his thumb over two of my fingers for a moment. "What does that mean?" he asked quietly.

My smile only grew, though there was hesitancy to it. "Sleep well," I paraphrased, allowing myself to relax into sleep.

⚡One week later⚡

Frankie was assimilating here well, we only had a minor issue with Magenta so far. I had always loved her, deep down whether I used to know it or not, but it was more evident now. Magenta was worse when she was a child, attitude wise at least; she wasn't throwing metal objects at me at that point. The most that happened was Barry's computers when haywire for a moment before returning to normal. He was working with Frankie to get a handle on things, he worked with her better than I could. I mostly kept her grounded, but Magenta was still there, silently trying to claw her way free.

Barry's sleep has gotten worse. Most nights he doesn't even lay with me anymore, just sits in his second favorite chair and reads or watches me. By the time I'm awake he is too and he never talks to me about it, so I never know if he sleeps at all. I knew he needed to eat a lot, wouldn't that mean he needed a decent amount of sleep as well? I silently turned over the question of his mental state as we watched a movie, he laid with his head in my lap as I ran my fingers through his soft curls. Frankie sat in the chair to our right, her wide eyes fixated on the screen.

I tapped Barry's shoulder and he lifted his torso, so with a small smirk I slid my body under his and wrapped my arms around his back, pulling him down to me and entangling my legs with his. I could feel his cheek warm against mine but he relaxed when I continued playing with his hair. "What's up with you lately?" I whispered, feeling his chest move against mine with tense breaths.

"Bad dreams," he quietly answered. "Bad, bad dreams..." Barry tightened his grip on me and nuzzled his face closer to mine. "I'm fine, though, Andromeda." I sighed and deepened my hand's movement through his hair.

"If it were nothing, it wouldn't be getting worse," I pointed out in a tired, singsong breath. "I don't see why we can't talk about it." I closed my eyes when he pressed his lips to my cheek, completely torn over him alone.