Falling Slowly [Barry Allen]

Chapter 40

I'm in a dream, and Barry is beside me, lying on a cool bed of grass in a secluded meadow, surrounded by a wall of impossibly tall oak trees. The sun is too bright and the colors are too intense for this to be reality... It's not possible to be unhappy in a place like this.

His hands are behind his head in that cute way that guys always do, and he's looking up at the sky while I gaze at his profile.

How can this man love me? He's gentle, and kind, and lovable, and he has superhuman speed and unmatched supernatural powers that defy all the natural laws of science. He's too special to love someone that's not the same as he is.

But yet, as I look at his smile and listen to him talk about the clouds and how they aren't dreamy, puffy, white wonders but are actually these big balls of freezing cold water vapor, I can't help but love him, and everything that he is.

He is kind, gentle, lovable. But the scientist part of him is also reasonable, rational, and irresistibly intelligent. And the hero part is noble, and brave, but also blind to the danger that will fall around him as he charges into an unknown setting for battle.

But he's my Barry Allen, and although I can't imagine why he would choose to love an ordinary girl that has no home, no powers, no parents... I can choose to love him back.

Barry turns his head to look at me, and his emerald pools seem to look straight through me, to the depths of my being, seeing me for who I am. And I don't mind that he can see all of me, because I have nothing to hide from him anymore. He smiles his wide, perfect smile at me, and he leaves me no choice but to smile back.

Then he speaks to me again, but his voice is sharper; more in focus than before, when he was telling me about the clouds.

"Katie?" His voice is so smooth, it almost blends with the sunlight around it.

I try to speak back, but my voice fails me.

"Katie." He speaks again, but louder and more urgent this time.

I try to force his name from my lips, but no sound comes out.

"Katie, wake up," he commands me, but his voice doesn't match his facial expression. His features are soft and relaxed, but his voice has taken on a desperate, more distressed tone. It doesn't make sense. How can he be like this in this beautiful place? There's nothing wrong here.

I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion, trying to convey to him my incomprehension without being able to speak.

"Wake up, Katie. You need to come back." His tone is pressing now, and it makes my stomach turn.

Oh no, I'm worrying him.

I muster all of my physical energy and focus it toward my throat, trying to produce a sound, any sound, so that he will stop worrying about me.

"Barry." The name is there, but it's muddled with effort and strain.

His face changes; now he wears a look of astonishment, and his voice seems too loud now. It doesn't fit with our surroundings. It's as if it's coming from the sky instead of from his body.

"Come back, Katie. You have to wake up."

Wake up? I'm awake, Barry. I'm looking at you.

I roll onto my side in the grass and slowly, slowly touch my hand to his face.

The small places where my fingers come into contact with his skin begin to glow like the sunlight and start to slowly spread outward. His hand reaches for me, and I take it with both of mine. Somehow I don't feel worried or shocked or freaked out by what's happening to him. I just watch.