IV.

Barry doesn't feel better when he returns to work the next day.

In fact, Barry feels worse, almost as if all of the energy that had remained with him has now completely drained away. He just wants to forget everything and lie down, but he can't. There's too much responsibility resting on his shoulders, there are so many people that the Flash needs to save and he can't run the risk of taking another day off. He can't waste time being knocked off his feet by an illness when so many people need his help. Barry listens when his team lectures him on accepting help and taking some time to himself, he really does. But sometimes, he wonders if they truly understand why he can't simply take a day off. They all play their own parts in protecting the city, but it's different for Barry. It's different for the Flash who runs the streets and feels the rush of adrenaline and occasional guilt depending on how his day goes. Even if he wants to spend the day puking and sleeping, Barry knows that there is no way he can stay away from his duty for long.

Though he tries to act as casual as possible, Barry knows that Joe is trying to alleviate his worry by hovering. More so than usual, Barry finds his naps at his desk being interrupted by the arrival of Joe, his visit complete with an irrelevant question about a case Barry's pretty sure was finished a week ago. Long after Barry has mumbled a reply and sluggishly returned to his paperwork, Joe still remains. For about ten minutes, he wanders around the room, pretending to look over some of the cases lying around when Barry really knows that Joe is focused on him. With the excuse of suddenly being needed downstairs. Joe escapes the room with one last glance at Barry, not returning until the process repeats itself in about an hour.

On maybe Joe's third trip upstairs in just as many hours, he seems to finally decide to confront Barry on his condition.

"How are you feeling?" He asks calmly.

Barry appreciates that Joe is getting straight to the point, because it feels like a headache is beginning to surface and he's not sure how much criticism he can take before he snaps.

"Fine." Barry replies. Rather than look at Joe, Barry chooses to stare at the case file in front of him and write something down that may or may not make any sense.

Joe sighs and Barry's shoulders tense in preparation for the lecture that is sure to follow.

"You're not." Joe continues. "And if you keep going on like this, will you ever be fine?"

Barry rolls his eyes and shuts them as soon as pain spikes through his head. "That's over exaggerating."

"I'm serious, Barry." Though Joe's tone sounds harsh, Barry knows that concern motivates him. "You need to take a break and you need to let us help you."

"I don't need any help with this, Joe." Barry turns his chair to face his foster father, his hands lying in his lap in a way that he hopes will cover the fact that he's actually trying to clutch his rebellious stomach. "It's just the flu, it'll pass soon. But I can't stop, people out there need me and they can't afford for me to just stop when they're in trouble."

Joe frowns and crosses his arms. "If you keep doing this to yourself, there won't be a you to protect people at all."

Barry wants to sigh, he wants to make Joe see his perspective and accept the fact that he won't be stopping anytime soon. Oh, sure, he would like nothing more than eternal sleep at the moment, but there's a dangerous meta on the loose and who knows how many other crimes that are occurring that Barry needs to stop.

Before he can open his mouth to counter Joe's argument, Barry's phone rattles and vibrates on his desk. Joe looks disappointed, but he also appears understanding when they both recognize Cisco's contact photo and Barry has to answer the call.

"Cisco? What's up?"

"Hey, yeah, I know you're not doing too great, buddy," Barry wishes Cisco could see his glare. "But there might be a situation in need of your special abilities."

"Where?"

"Central City Bank. Several perpetrators and hostages inside. The police have been called in, but I'm pretty sure a certain someone could get there faster."

"I'm on my way." Barry hangs up.

Joe is giving him an evil look that is clearly torn between reluctance and the acceptance of what Barry has to do.

"I'll be okay, Joe." Barry assures him.

The older man merely sighs and points at him sternly with his index finger. "You damn well better be."

Barry barely has the time to smirk before he's rushing off in a gust of wind, changing into his suit quickly. He'll surely get a lecture on the mess of blown away papers in his lab when he returns, but there is no time to worry about that when he's racing to stop a crime.

He finds his way into the bank easily enough, the bolted main entrance not stopping him as he is able to zip his way through a maze of forgotten entrances until he finds himself standing on the tile floor of the main room. The run has made Barry feel more nauseous than before, but it is something he can hide away for the moment with adrenaline pumping through his system.

Three men wearing dark clothing, ski masks, and carrying assault rifles stand at the center of the room. Two are huddled close together, leaning their heads in as they harshly whisper amongst themselves. The third stands a short distance away, his eyes sweeping along the crowd of people they've trapped as his finger taps threateningly on the trigger.

Barry counts twelve hostages, seven appearing to be customers and the remaining five consisting of employees. They all sit together on the cold floor, some crying, a few praying, and a couple staring at space with blank, hopeless faces.

The third robber that stands away is the first one to notice Barry standing in the room. Immediately, the man raises his gun and points it at the Flash. Barry lifts his arms so he doesn't look like a threat, and he focuses on not letting the world spin away.

"Don't move, Flash!" The third robber yells. The other two, their conversation now interrupted, startle at their partner's voice but soon copy his actions when they too see Barry.

"I don't want any trouble, fellas." Barry calls back to them. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a few of the hostages sit up straighter, their faces gawking at him in awe as some wipe away their tears. Luckily, he can't see any injuries on them.

A different robber, one that stands between the other two, huffs out a chuckle and shakes with amusement. "You being here is doing just that."

"If you just come on out nice and easy," Barry pauses to swallow the bile rising in his throat. "Then the police might give you a kinder punishment."

The last robber scoffs. "Yeah, right." He raises his rifle a little higher, making Barry's already unsettled stomach sink even further. Instinctively, Barry pushes his arms out in a gesture of peace.

"No one has to get hurt!" Barry calls out desperately. He's not really in the best condition to be negotiating with criminals, bet there's really no other choice.

"You should have thought of that before you came here, Flash." The middle robber shouts. If Barry had to guess, he'd think that he was the leader of their little group. "Really, we weren't planning on hurting anyone, but now that you're here, won't that make this a little more fun?"

As the leader grins through his mask, Barry feels all of his blood drain from his face. A trio of bank robbers just had to add a little action to his day, as if the past few days haven't been exciting enough. Barry just wants to get this over with and reward himself with a long nap, but peoples' lives are at stake and he needs to be extremely cautious, especially with his poor health currently diminishing his performance.

As soon as the leader starts to approach the small group of hostages, Barry shoves aside all of his doubts and aching body parts and he just runs.

He grabs the slowly approaching leader and tosses him into the two other robbers who had been standing perfectly in line like a pair of bowling pins. Two at a time, he picks up the hostages and rushes them out the back door he originally snuck in through.

The robbers are standing and armed when Barry returns for the final two hostages. The remaining hostages are now kneeling, one a young girl and the other an older man with the label of manager on his shiny nametag. Two of the robbers are standing behind their respective hostages, each holding the tips of their guns against the backs of the hostages' heads. The leader is standing calmly off to the side.

"Can you save them both?" The leader teases.

Barry clenches his gloved fists and moves.

There's no time to think through what he's doing, no time to contemplate every possible error, no time to be indecisive. He only has the time to rush forward as quickly as possible with no concern over how dizzy he feels after lurching forward so suddenly. There isn't really a coherent plan in his mind, just thought after thought telling him to get the hostages out of the line of fire.

Barry knows he can't waster precious milliseconds even picking them up properly, so he shoves first the girl, then the man away from the robbers just as the first bullets start to fly. He hides the two sobbing hostages behind one of the empty counters then rushes back at the robbers. But this time, they're ready for him.

All three have their guns raised, bullets spraying everywhere. Barry dodges as best as he can, but his exhaustion and illness is starting to catch up with him, his world tilting every which way and his stomach following a similar pattern. He's almost reached the robbers when two sharp stabs of blinding pain appear in his right side.

It feels as if his side is being torn apart as he slides across the floor and into the robbers. They are all knocked off of their feet, but none groan more than Barry as he grasps at his side with one hand. With the other, he fishes around blindly for one of the guns. As soon as he has a firm grip on the handle, he swings it around wildly until he's certain the robbers won't want to get up anytime soon. The danger now gone, Barry grunts and crawls away from the robbers, his wounds rubbing painfully against the floor. His torso drags along the tile, leaving a smeared trail of blood in his wake that he thinks may cause problems later on. But he can't find it in him to care, because his already weakened body is now being bombarded with this horrible agony in his abdomen.

The world wants to fade away, and Barry is afraid he might just do that when a crinkling voice sounds over his coms. "Barry? What happened, man? Your vitals are going crazy!"

Barry doesn't have the strength to find his voice and respond, but Cisco does give him the motivation he needs to press his hands messily over his gushing wounds and stand. His midriff feels like it's being torn in half, but he grits his teeth and stumbles for a few steps before he manages to take off running.

The world is blurry enough without the help of his super speed, but the thought of reaching S.T.A.R. Labs is able to guide him through every unfamiliar street and sloppy turn. Distantly, he wonders if he's leaving behind a suspicious trail of blood.

Cisco is yelling frantically in Barry's ear, but Barry's breath is too spent and he can't muster any words to assure Cisco that he's alive.

Finally, Barry's feet are sliding to a stop in the cortex. Cisco spins around immediately, rising from his chair with widening eyes as he spots what Barry is clutching at. Barry looks down at his stomach and sees the mess of dark blood and torn cloth marring his already crimson suit. He's so dizzy and tired and looking down is making him want to close his eyes.

"Barry-" Cisco starts to say as he carefully moves forward but Barry is giving up on staying upright. The black spots in his vision convince his knees to go weak and make him collapse. "Barry!"

His eyes are mercifully closed, but he's not gone yet. The world sounds like it's submerged in water, flowing and rippling over his unmoving body. He feels his mask get peeled back from his face, his sweaty skin coming into contact with cool air. A tight pressure is being held against his side, and he moans and tries to wriggle away until he realizes how hard moving is. Somewhere far away, Barry can hear Cisco calling out for Caitlin, but he doesn't really care. His side is aching and his entire body feels too hot and he can't really find it in himself to care about staying awake much longer.

Curiosity makes him pull his heavy eyelids open for a few seconds. Though his vision is blurry, he can clearly see Cisco and Caitlin kneeling over him, their faces panicked and worried. Their hands are coated in red stuff that Barry vaguely registers as his own blood. Though she's worried, Caitlin is still keeping a level of composure only a doctor could retain. She shouts something at Cisco and he scrambles away and out of Barry's sight.

Caitlin must notice his semi-awareness because his attention is drawn back to her when her fingers tap gently against his cheek. Barry slides his eyes over to her and finds her smiling face. Her lips move and her eyes blink, but Barry can't register a word she is saying. She must be really worried, so Barry tries to give her a grin. It must look pretty sad and pathetic, because her face falls and a frown replaces the smile. Desperately, Caitlin is tapping his cheeks as his eyes roll around, looking at her face, the lights, the ceiling, and then her again. She might say his name, he might even hear her, but his gut is filled with fire and the edges of his vision are fuzzy. He wants to stay around longer, he truly does, but he's too tired to keep his eyes open.

Barry hears echoes of his name and tastes the metallic tang of blood on his lips before he's floating away from reality.