Soothsayer ⚡ Barry Allen

Rest Easy, My Eyes

Since Cat had given me the keys to Wayne's Porsche, I decided that leaving it hanging around the warehouse district unattended was a bad idea, so I dropped Barry at home and stashed the car in a safe spot before returning. When I walked inside, Barry was trying to pull his sweater over his head, breathing hard as whimpers left him. I quickly came over and lifted it from the bottom, his hands dropping down to support his weight on his desk when he noticed my assistance.

The entire back of his banages were soaked in blood, so I carefully pulled the sweater over his hunched shoulders and dropped head so it fell down his arms, his breathing still hard but a note of relief to it. "I have to change the bandages, but we should clean in before rewrapping it." Barry groaned, and I couldn't tell him that the process wouldn't be unpleasant. I hadn't been shot three times in the back before, but getting stabbed in the leg hurt pretty damn bad, so I could only imagine the pain he was in. "Let's get you in the shower. I'll help," I decided with a soft exhale.

"I'll meet you there," he barely chuckled, a light flush to his cheeks. I pressed my lips to his temple and held them there for a moment before moving to the bathroom. There was no way I was leaving him for a few days, I needed to see him back on his feet before I took off. Even if he was done healing by tomorrow, I wanted to know he could keep up with himself. I pulled a package of bandages from under the sink, leaving it and a pair of scissors on the counter for afterwards.

I started drawing the water when Barry shuffled in, directing him to sit on the toilet while I adjusted the water. After starting the shower, I grabbed the scissors and cut up the side of the bandage, carefully pulling the dark red material away from his skin. "I'm sorry," I hissed, feeling the fabric pull on his skin. He gently flinched and whimpered, the sudden movements helping discern the skin from the cloth. Barry sighed once it was finally off, the dark, fleshy, cicular wounds left in his back making my stomach sink.

After taking a minute to himself, he slowly stood and dropped his pants, taking my hand for support as he stepped inside. Taking a deep breath to try and shake the feeling, I removed my own clothes and walked in behind him, catching a gentle tremble to his shoulders. With a light touch, I rested my hands on his sides and kissed his shoulder, feeling the water droplets bounce off of his abdomen and onto my fingers. "Are you alright, mátia mou? Other than the obvious, that is," I asked, trying to keep my attention off his injury for as long as possible.

"Other than the obvious, I'm peachy," he scoffed, moving further into the water. I watched some trail down his back, groaning as the water seeped into the exposed muscle. After adjusting to the sensation he dropped his head, letting the water run more fluidly over his back. I wrapped an arm around his middle when he flinched, the hand of the other helping the water down it's path. "Fuck," he breathed tensely. I was trying to be as gentle as I could with him, but part of cleaning each bullet hole meant getting in there with soap, to kill the bacteria. With one hand supporting his weight on the wall, Barry used the other to squeeze my right hand, stilling it's movement over his stomach.

There was a small bit of relief when the water washed away the soap from the wounds, but it was nothing compared to after I had finished wrapping him in fresh bandages. I had barely gotten him to stand again before he slid his arms around my shoulders and rested his forehead on mine. "Thank you."

"You kinda did the same for me after Reverb," I shrugged, running my fingers over his lower back. "You ready for bed?"

"Mhm," he hummed with a nod. We had gotten dressed before dressing his wounds, so it wasn't a far trip to help him lay down in bed. His breathing was hard and each rapid exhale was paired with a whimper or grunt of pain. Once he was laid out on his stomach, he carefully found a comfortable position and sighed as I pulled the blanket up over his hips. When I slid in beside him I ran my hand through his hair, smiling a bit when he turned his head to look at me. "How did I get lucky enough to get you?" he asked softly.

"I wouldn't say lucky," I lightly chuckled. "After all you've done, you deserve some fun like me in your life."

"I don't deserve something like you, I deserve you." I took a deep breath and felt a light heat in my face.

"No," I assured, running my thumb over his cheekbone. "You deserve better. Trust me." I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, loving how he stretched a small bit to deepen the kiss. "Get some rest, mátia mou. You need it." For once, Barry didn't argue that point, or even fight it really. He relaxed easily under my hand, my eyes moving more rapidly over his face than my thumb was. I so wasn't ready to break his heart, I didn't want to see the pain on his face. But, at this point, things were more than a little out of my control. I could see that branch on the edge of the cliff more clearly than ever, my feet were starting to slip, the ground crumbling underneath them ever so slowly, but at the same time all too fast.