#hookay

❝ ‘S fine I just... ❞ He moves wrong, vision blurs and he sways on his feet. Barry swears underneath tight breath and the thought races across his mind as the chill chases shortly after that maybe he won’t be fine. That maybe the gash in his side is bleeding a little bit too much and not healing fast enough to stop the slow thought ( slow? shouldn’t be slow ) of ‘what were the steps of going into shock again?’ 

❝ Jus’ let me sit... ❞ Because sitting seemed like a good idea, aches and pains raced across muscles and joints. It hurt to even think with the pain throbbing, the muscles screaming SLOW DOWN SLOW DOWN. ( When he needed to speed up, speed up. ) Fighting captain cold in the middle of a snow storm?       Wasn’t one of his brightest ideas. And it’s like his body is on a slow autopilot. Shoulder thudding against brick, bright hazy eyes looking at the blob of green standing next to him. Various words hitting his ears but none of them fulling making connection with his brain. ❝ Gotta get warm-- ‘ll heal up that way..❞ But again instead of moving he’s sliding down that wall, slower and slower...