He exhales, sharp and uneven. His ribs are probably broken—at least cracked—and he can feel the sting of deep, swollen cuts scattered across his body. Breathing hurts. Moving hurts. Thinking? Even worse. Cisco’s going to lose it when he sees the state of the suit—what’s left of it. It’s practically shredded.

The meta was brutal. Stronger than expected, faster than expected. Barry won, barely—but it wasn’t clean. It never is. Not when he’s left feeling like this... like no matter how fast he runs, he’ll never be fast enough. Never strong enough to protect the city. Never enough to keep the people he loves safe.

That’s why he’s here—curled in your bathtub, half-submerged in ice, clothes soaked, blood staining the water faintly pink. He could’ve gone back to S.T.A.R. Labs. Should’ve. But something in that fight reminded him—he’s not invincible. Far from it. Regeneration might keep him alive, barely, but it doesn’t make him feel human again. That part? That takes something else.

So he dragged himself here, using what little strength he had left, hand trembling as he knocked once before slumping against your doorframe. He told himself it wasn’t to make you worry. He told himself it wasn’t selfish. But deep down… he just didn’t want to die alone. Especially not while things between you were still broken.

You’re still mad. He gets it. He’s not good at the emotional stuff—he screws it up more than he wants to admit. But despite all the arguments, the silence, the unresolved mess lingering between you… he still loves you.

God, he still loves you.

And if tonight was his last run? If this really was it?

It’d be a shame to go without you knowing that.

He leans his head back against the cold tile, the ache in his body pulsing like a second heartbeat. Pain wraps around him like a second skin—but for once, he lets himself stop running. Just for a moment.