Barry wasn't quite asleep yet when he heard the loud bang from downstairs and the sound of something knocking into the back door. Keeping a cool head, he silently rose from his desk and slipped into the hallway, muscles loose and ready for a fight. Hal wasn't supposed to be back home until tomorrow afternoon, and he had a key, so he wouldn't be making such a ruckus anyways. Barry spared a second to check on Wally and close his bedroom door before rushing to the stairs and pressing flat against one wall.
If this was a burglar, then they were a special kind of stupid for picking this house.
He breezed down the steps without a sound, craning his neck around the corner into the pitch black dining room with both hands itching and at the ready. He couldn't see who was at the door but had to squint against the blinding green light that flashed through the windows and curtains as the group outside fumbled to get in.
Something was wrong.
Barry was at the door in a second, flipping the latch and yanking it open to a flurry of muffled cursing and groans of pain. Guy and John were huddled under the awning with an unconscious Hal suspended between them, all three Lanterns bloody and battered pretty badly. Guy's head snapped up in surprise when Barry opened the door, and he dropped the shoddy, house key construct he'd been jabbing at the lock, "Shit, you're quiet!"
"What happened?" Barry whispered desperately, chest hollow and aching. He moved out of the way and ushered them all inside, unable to see Hal's face from the way his head was slumped to the side. His body was limp and crumpled in his teammates' arms; John had his legs while Guy supported his torso. They carried him over to one of the kitchen chairs and helped him sit upright, their uniforms casting ghostly light across the table and floor.
"We're not as bad as we look," John told him very firmly, and the grounded surety of his voice was a rush of relief for Barry. John turned on the overhead light while Barry shut the door and drew the blinds closed in habit. He didn't really have neighbors anymore, but he wasn't taking any chances. Guy was banging around like a bull in a china shop as he scoured the cabinets for towels and filled a bowl with ice. He was going to wake up Wally if he kept it up.
"Got hit by another goddamn villain team-up," Guy growled angrily, passing the ice over to John, who was keeping Hal upright in the chair. "This shit keeps happening more and more lately! What gives?!"
"Keep your voice down," Barry told him woodenly, dropping to his knees in front of Hal and wrapping a dishrag around a handful of ice. He carefully pressed it to one of the mottled bruises on Hal's cheek and felt his chest constrict when he flinched away. He was awake. Barry released the breath he'd been holding and swiped the blood out of Hal's eyes with his thumb, "Hal? Can you hear me?"
The groan he got in response was more or less an answer.
"I wanted to take him to a hospital, but he kept telling us to bring him home," John sighed as he watched Barry take mental stock of Hal's injuries. He was bruised all to hell, but at least nothing looked broken.
"It's fine," he took a moment to collect himself, squeezing Hal's shoulder carefully. "He hates hospitals. I can patch him up."
Hal seemed to recognize his voice then, because his eyes cracked open and darted around the room until they found Barry. His mouth chewed over something that might've been words, but nothing intelligible came out. He frowned, eyes fluttering shut again, and tried harder to speak.
"Shh, baby," Barry whispered, pushing bloody hunks of hair back from Hal's forehead. "You're gonna be alright. I'm here."
"Do you need help getting him cleaned up?" Guy offered anxiously when Barry slipped one arm around Hal's back and hooked the other under his knees.
Barry lifted him easily, shaking his head, "I got it."
He tried not to feel annoyed at the impressed looks John and Guy were giving him, but that's what happens when you work with people who can lift buildings and pull planes out of the sky. Everyone knew he was fast, but they always forgot how strong he was.
"If you don't feel up to flying, you're both welcome to stay the night here," Barry told Hal's comrades. He nodded at the living room and the very comfortable couch and chairs. "There's plenty of room."
"Thanks, Barry, but I wanna give Superman a rundown of everything that happened," John powered his ring back up and created a construct to strap some of the ice to his shoulder blade. Guy also looked like he was getting ready to head out. "He and Batman are keeping a close eye on these villain tag teams, and they'll want to hear about tonight."
"I'm with Johnny," Guy jerked his thumb at his fellow Lantern with a grin. "'Cept I'm not allowed in your super secret superhero club, so I'll be riding out the rest of this crappy night with a Guinness."
"Well, be careful then – both of you," Barry gave them a nod. "Thank you for getting Hal here safely. I'll have him call you tomorrow, alright?"
"Whenever he's feeling up to it," John herded Guy towards the door and jerked his thumb outside. "We'll lock up for you."
"Night," Barry smiled gratefully and made his way to the guest bathroom so he wouldn't have to navigate the stairs. Hal's head slumped against his shoulder, and his smile fell away. He was burning to know all the details of what happened and find out who was responsible, but Hal came first. Barry heard the door in the kitchen open and close when he awkwardly flipped on the light switch with his elbow. Hal cringed at the sudden brightness, and it drew out a moan when Barry sat him down on the side of the tub.
"I'll be right back," Barry took care to prop him up against the wall and make sure he wouldn't fall over before dashing to the garage for a short stool. He set it in the middle of the tub and turned on the showerhead to let the water warm up. Barry eased the Lantern ring off Hal's finger and set it on the sink beside them. His costume vanished with a low sound, and Barry touched the side of his face to wake him up, "Okay Hal, I need you to help me out and stand for just a second."
Hal reached out and weakly hooked an arm around Barry's neck, letting himself be pulled up on wobbly legs. Barry moved quickly, unbuttoning Hal's jeans and pushing them down to his ankles. He hefted his boyfriend into the tub and made him sit on the stool, peeling off the blood-soaked shirt and tossing it aside as well. Hal's chest and back were mottled with angry bruises and small ruptures along the skin. Barry's eyes roved over them in dismay, and he felt each wound as keenly as if they were on his own body.
"You still doing alright?" Barry couldn't help brushing his fingers along the slick patches of Hal's hair, looking for tender spots and more serious head wounds. All this anxious fussing was just going to slow him down though, so Barry took a deep breath and retrieved a soft washcloth from under the sink.
Hal gave the faintest nod, slumped over his knees, and his eyelids fell halfway shut again.
"Okay, baby, let me know if you start to feel nauseous. I don't think you have a concussion, but I don't wanna risk it," Barry rolled up his sleeves and ran his arm under the water to test the temperature. It was warm enough at this point, so he knelt down beside the tub and tried to get Hal's attention. "This is going to sting a bit, I'm sorry, but I'll have you cleaned up in no time."
Hal made a swirly gesture with his hand that Barry took to mean 'okay', so he detached the showerhead and very slowly ran the spray up Hal's back. The brunet shuddered and hunched his shoulders up to his ears. Barry took his time rinsing off each cut and carefully scrubbing the blood away with his cloth. Beneath them, the water ran red down the drain in long swirls. Hal tilted his head back listlessly when Barry started kneading suds into his hair, letting out a groan at the loving attention. Barry thought he caught the barest hint of a smile on Hal's lips, and he laughed, "You like this?"
"It doesn't hurt," Hal slurred with a tired shrug.
"You'll feel better soon. Who knows? Maybe Oliver's right and being around me will make you heal faster," Barry joked, finishing up Hal's hair and leaning over his lap to start washing his legs. "It's a nice thought, anyways."
Before he could grab the showerhead again, Hal was suddenly leaning against him, fitting into his contours like a puzzle. He pressed his face into Barry's collarbone and breathed out in a harsh sigh, not saying anything, not moving. Barry went stiff for a second from surprise, but he curled his arms around Hal and felt water seeping in through his shirt. He didn't care.
"Hal?" he murmured softly.
"Don't move. Please?" Hal asked in a weak mumble. He sounded like he was nearly asleep. "You're really comfortable."
Barry drew him in tighter, "Of course."
They stayed that way until Barry noticed Hal's skin rising up in goose bumps from the cold. Without moving too much, Barry wrapped his boyfriend up in a thick towel and dried him off. All the while, Hal drifted further into sleep with his nose pressed against Barry's neck.