#e2h

E2 Harry Wells x Reader 

"Harry! He's got a gun!" 

"Stay with me y/n, I'm here, just stay with me." 

"Damnit y/n breathe! Please!?"

A/N: This was requested by @but-my-tongue-is-a-wepon, thank you for this! Sorry for my absence as a writer, I hope this makes up for it darling.

It was as if the whole world had come to a halt. The room’s temperature dropped, and Harry’s heart shot up into his throat. Beads of sweat gathered at his hairline as he felt his body jerk forward, almost as if he had lost control of himself.

Suddenly, he was on his knees, his shaking hands wrapping behind your limp shoulders, holding your head up, the other clamping down over the angry wound that was quickly seeping with blood from your chest.

Words failed him in that moment as something cold trickled up his spine, raising the hairs on his arms. Fear. Absolute and unquestionable fear.

The whole scene played over again and again in his mind.

“Harry! He’s got a gun!” Cisco had yelled from his lab in the Cortex.

But Harry was too slow, by the time he turned his head, the gunshot had already gone off, and he flinched. But not because the bullet had hit him. No, it was because you were standing in front of him, arms outstretched, welcoming the attack.

“No, stay with me Y/N, I’m here, please just stay with me!” Harry choked, repeating the phrase until he could voice it properly, his throat tight and hoarse and he shook your body again, snapping back to the present.

The man who had fired the gun was on the ground, Barry stood behind him and was already picking him up, with Joe joining him, pulling out a pair of cuffs that would ensure the Meta couldn’t use his powers.

Your eyes were open, staring past Harry’s shoulder, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. Harry shakes you once, and then again, before laying you on the ground, tearing his shirt off and pressing it onto the wound.

“Snow! Snow, help her!” Harry sobs, yet no tears left his eyes. He suddenly felt hot-- searing with rage. He tied the shirt around you as best he could, and began compressing on your chest as Caitlin tumbled to the ground next to him.

“We need to get her onto the gurney, now!” Caitlin shouts, grabbing Harry’s shoulder and pulling him away. Harry resisted.

“Im here, please just breathe Y/N, please!” Harry growls, and Caitlin pulls at him again, this time, Cisco joining her. 

“Come on, man, let her do her job,” Cisco mutters, and Harry goes numb, sitting back on his heels as Caitlin and Cisco raise your body, laying you on the gurney and rushing you to the lab.

Everything sounded far away as Harry jumped up to follow, his heart pounding heavily in his ears.

“Cisco, grab those bandages and tape down the wound while I set this up,” Caitlin spoke so fast she was almost inaudible, and the man quickly did as he was told.

Harry hovered back, his every instinct tell him to grab your hand, to yell, to do something, but instead he stayed against a wall,  crossing one arm over his chest, the other running through his hair frantically.

Cisco peeled away Harry’s soiled shirt, and then grabbed a large pair of scissors to cut away your shirt, cramming wads of gauze over the hole and taping it over while Caitlin rolled out the defibrillator.

The woman adjusted the settings, attaching wires and pads to your unconscious body, before snatching up the paddles. A high pitch whir screeches and the room goes silent. 

“Cisco, clear.” Caitlin commands, and Cisco jumps back, clearing the way as the woman presses one paddle over your chest, and the other on your side. 

Caitlin counts down, and then presses the buttons, a jolt forcing your body to jump. She puts the paddles back and begins compressions again, forcing air into your lungs, before grabbing the paddles again.

Harry’s heart pounded harder than ever, the color draining from his face. He felt sick.

"Damnit y/n breathe! Please!?" Harry cries, running over to the table, brushing your hair back and keeping your head tilted. His own breath hitched in his throat.

“Clear!” Caitlin shouts again, and both Cisco and Harry move back before she administers a final shock, your body jumping again.

A small cough bursts from your lips, and your eyes blink. Your mouth gapes open, and you choke and sputter, dribbles of blood leaking out the corners of your mouth, back arching into the air.

“Her lung’s collapsed!” Caitlin shouts as she runs over to the cabinets, pulling out a very large, very deadly looking needle.

Harry runs his thumbs over your cheeks and mouth, wiping away the fluids, your eyes wide and full of panic. 

“It’s okay, I’m here, I’m here, just stay with me, please. Stay with me,” he whispers, and Caitlin smacks on a pair of gloves, ripping open an alcohol wipe.

She cleans the area under your ribs, on the side with the bullet wound, and then peels the needle from it’s packaging. 

“This will hurt, and it’ll be hard to watch,” she mutters before pressing one hand against your ribs, the other forcing the thick, hollow needle into your skin, pushing it as far as it would go. 

She tugs at the end, and it hisses. Your chest lurches for a moment, and a sudden gust of air rushes in as the immense pressure is lifted.

It was as if you had an elephant sitting on your chest, keeping you from catching the air you so desperately needed. Your temples throbbed and your vision speckled with black dots.

And suddenly, despite the piercing pain of the needle entering you, the cool air that finally rushed down your throat was almost euphoric.

You cough again, and a bit of blood stains your lips.

Finally, real tears fall from Harry’s eyes, dripping onto your forehead as he lowers himself, kissing where his tears landed.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers, and you shake your head.

“You... can’t-rid...me-that...easy,” you gasp, your voice almost inaudible.

“It’s not over yet, we have to patch her up. I’ve got it from here, Harry.,” Caitlin rests a hand on his shoulder, “you go help take care of the Meta.” 

Harry bites his lip, and then shakes his head.

“I’m staying with her. I’ll stay out of the way.”

Caitlin sighs, and then nods, before taking the same scissors and cutting away the remaining fabric. Cisco takes his leave, probably to join Barry and Joe to deal with the Meta.

Harry wanted to kill that man... that same burning rage bubbled up in his chest, but he managed to suppress it. He steeples his fingers, resting his chin on his thumb, his other fingers pressing against the tip of his nose, his teeth snaring his bottom lip.

It takes Cailtin several hours to properly clean and patch the wound. Because of where the bullet was lodged, she didn’t want to remove it. She administered a drug to you to make you sleep while she did her work, wrapping you up in a hospital-like gown.

She sticks a few patches to your chest and sides, and then wraps a breathing tube around your face, before finally removing the hollow needle.

“She’ll stay unconscious for a few more hours. When she wakes, don’t let her sit up. I’m going to go check on the others,” Caitlin mumbles, snapping off the gloves and tossing them into the trash.

Harry nods his head. “Thank you, Caitlin.” He rises to his full height, dragging his chair over to the bed, the rhythmic beeping of your heart rate on the monitor echoing in his ears.

He carefully clasps your small, cold hand in his, bringing it to his lips, and then to his own forehead, a sigh of relief escaping his lips, before the tears started again.

“Damn you woman-- I though I lost you,” he sobs, his voice thick. “Why did you jump in front of that bullet?”

“Cause I... love you... asshole,” you mumble through the heavy grogginess. 

“Don’t you ever do that again, Y/N. I’m supposed to be your hero-- it’s my job to take the bullet for you. That’s what I promised you, didn’t I, Mrs. Wells?”

“It was... a mutual ag...agreement...” You sigh, your head lolling to the side. Your eyes flutter as you try to stay awake, but the drugs consume you into a restless slumber.

Harry couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, wiping his eyes. He gently twists and fiddles with the ring on your left finger, his heart swelling with warmth, before it was snuffed out.

He was angry-- angry at you, furious with the Meta who hurt you, enraged with himself... but mostly thankful. Thankful for the friends you both shared, thankful for you, his wife, and thankful for air that wheezed out of your poor, damaged body.

He had so many emotions running through his head, he felt sick. Love, anger, hatred, fear, relief, exhaustion.

He kisses your hand again, resting his head on the bed beside your hip, a dull pain throbbing at his temples.

                                    __________________________________       

“Apparently his name is Edward Killian. He used to work here, before the explosion. He was always quiet, under the radar. Damn near invisible to everyone but Harrison, according to Caitlin and Cisco. When the Particle Accelerator exploded, he became a Meta. Got the powers to turn invisible. I guess he finally caught wind that Harry was ‘alive,’ and wanted to exact his revenge.” Barry explains, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall of the room, looking down at you. 

Large bags sat under your eyes, and you barely had the strength to nod your head. It had only been a day since the incident.

“Oh the wrong Wells, though. He was wanting Evil Wells... Eo-Wells...Harry-Bard Thawles?” Cisco ponders the name, and Caitlin smacks his shoulder.

“That’s how he was able to sneak in undetected. And if you hadn’t stopped the bullet, it would’ve been a perfect bullseye to Harry’s head.” Barry ignores him, and you nod again, squeezing Harry’s hand with as much strength as you could muster.

“But Joe’s got him locked up, he’s being held in Iron Heights for now. We’ve managed to convince him to keep his mouth shut about Harry, but there’s no avoiding what he did to you,” Barry steps up and pats your foot, “so rest easy for now, okay?”

“Thank you, Barry,” you croak, and flash him a smile.

He leaves the room, and soon the others trickle out as well, leaving only you and Harry. The man hadn’t left your side, and he looked absolutely exhausted. Barry had brought him a shirt, and your heart monitor had betrayed you when you woke up to see his naked torso before he tugged the clothing over it.

“Go get some rest, Hon, I’ll be fine,” you whisper, and the man shakes his head.

“I’m fine.” He grumbles.

You furrow your brows and shoot him a glare. “I wasn’t asking.”

Harry chews his lips, and then scoffs, before standing up, stretching as he did.

“I’m glad to see you’ll never lose that feisty attitude of yours,” he chuckles, making his way to the door. “Just... stay there. Sleep.”

“I’m never leaving you, Harry.” You raise your voice, but it cracks as you do.

“I wouldn’t allow you to either way,” the man grins, his dazzling blue eyes causing your heart to stutter a beat, before he disappears down the hall.

You release a breath, rubbing your eyes, and pulling the blanket further up to your chin, settling into the not-so-comfy mattress. Your body felt unbelievably heavy, and it didn’t take long for you to pass out, you mind drifting off into dreams of Harry.

His messy hair, his constant pacing, his frown... and that smile that only you could see.

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