Author's Note: I had this idea for a little drabble completely out of the blue and I dunno why, so... there's that, I guess.
Hopefully the story is better then the Author's Note. I'd like to think they tend to be, but you never know :D
Barry collapses onto the medical bed in Caitlin's lab, looking more exhausted then he has in a long time.
Caitlin glances up from her phone, where she is scrolling through Facebook and trying to keep herself occupied until the clock hit 5 and she can get home. "Hey."
"Hey," Barry mumbles, leaning back against the wall.
"You alright?" Caitlin asks, eyeing him with mild concern. The metahuman fight that afternoon had been a bit of a doozy, and she thinks that she can still see smudges of dirt and blood across his cheeks and forehead if she looks closely enough.
"Fine," he replies shortly, but his eyes are distant and staring blankly at the wall across from him, not at her. It's obvious his mind is elsewhere.
"You stopped the metahuman, Barry," she tells him, just to make sure he knows. "You saved a lot of people today."
Barry's shoulders slump. The reaction to her comment is almost imperceptible, but Caitlin sees it. Caitlin sees all of it.
"I couldn't save her," he whispers finally, and Caitlin's phone finally falls all the way into her lap, screen dark.
There had been a fatality that afternoon. It isn't entirely unusual, but at the same time it is, especially because it had been someone Barry had tried to save. It seems like when he puts his mind to it, he can save everyone, but one woman hadn't been so lucky.
There had been a child, frozen on the sidewalk as a small bomb twinkled like a Christmas light in front of him. The woman had come out of nowhere, deciding to play the hero, and had saved the kids life by knocking him out of the way.
Barry had turned, broken into a run, but the bomb had exploded before he or the woman could get far. She had been dead when he arrived at her side, and Barry had just kind of... gone into shock.
It wasn't as if he had known her. No one on Team Flash had known her, and no one on the street had been looking for her or screaming her name or anything heart-wrenchingly painful like that. Caitlin isn't quite sure why it is this death that is tearing him to pieces, but she supposes sometimes things like that just hit you. She's not a psychologist, but she does know Barry.
Caitlin crosses the room and sits gently down next to him. Barry isn't crying, but it looks like he wants to.
"What happened today wasn't your fault," Caitlin says softly, even though she knows it's not going to do much to ease his conscience. It can never hurt for him to hear those words, though, even if he doesn't listen. "That woman was a hero. She saved that kid."
"She lost her life," Barry says, his voice cracking.
Caitlin rests her hand on his knee, rubbing her thumb gently across the fabric of his jeans. "That was her choice. Just like it's your choice to go out in the field ever other day, even if it could get you hurt. Even if it could get you killed."
"I have powers," Barry whispers. "It's different."
Caitlin shrugs. "Not all of us have that luxury. I'm glad that you do, though." She smiles ruefully and squeezes his knee. "It helps me to sleep a little better at night."
Barry glances at her, quickly. "Cait... you shouldn't have to worry about me."
She shrugs again, looking back at him. "Honestly, Barry, I think it's part of my job description to worry about you."
He laughs a little, his smile just barely reaching his eyes until it fades again. Caitlin slowly stands up. She's tired, but he looks like a mess, and she was right about the dirt and blood still smeared on his face. "I'll be right back," she tells him, making sure he knows she's not abandoning him.
He nods, and watches her leave her lab. It only takes her a couple of minutes to return with a cloth in her hands.
Barry lays down dutifully when she pushes on his shoulders, his head sinking into the pillow and his eyes flickering shut automatically. His body obviously wants to shut down, but there's something in him that still resisting.
Caitlin adjusts the washcloth in her hand and gently wipes it across Barry's cheek. It comes away streaked with grime, and she continues her work. She moves the cloth over his skin until his whole face is clean and damp, and even then continues. His breathing deepens and the trembling in his hands still, until she's almost sure he's asleep.
Caitlin pulls the washcloth back slowly and folds it, just to give her hands something to do. All the lines on Barry's face have smoothed out, leaving him looking like he's lost a good seven years of his life. The thought makes her sad, but it also makes her smile. He looks so beautiful when he's asleep.
The washcloth folded as neatly as possible, Caitlin closes her hand around it and leans down. Her breath flutters Barry's hair for a moment before she presses her lips to his forehead. She leaves them there for a good many seconds, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her touch.
When she pulls back, she thinks maybe he looks just a little bit happier, even in his sleep.
Author's Note: Wow, okay, so I sat down, like, 15 minutes ago and kinda just wrote this whole thing...
AND ALSO: GUYS! Did you catch that present tense?! I don't know if I've ever done a fanfic in present tense! I'm so proud of me right now :D