Chapter 19

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Oliver fell onto his elbows, leaning down and resting a palm on Barry's chest.

Not moving.

Save him!

Cautiously, he grabbed the boy's hand and wrapped two fingers around his wrist.

This is your fault. You've killed him.

A few seconds passed.

Almost killed him ...

There was a pulse! Barry had a pulse.

Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, Oliver bowed down and held Barry's nose.

Please let this work.

With shaking hands, he parted Barry's dry lips and began to breathe for him, pushing air from his own lungs and forcing it into the speedsters own.

Come on, come on ...

Two more tries. Still nothing.

The vigilante's head began to get fuzzy from the shear force he was breathing for the boy. His hearing was muffled and his vision began to blur slightly, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

Was it his imagination, or could he hear footsteps?

Ronnie and Martin appeared around the corner, hastily walking towards wherever they were headed - that was until they saw the scene playing out before them.

It took a moment for both men to recognise who was on the ground, blood smeared across their features.

Ronnie registered the situation first.

"Martin, get Cait. Now!"

The professor didn't hesitate. With a last glance at the two men on the floor, he flew back down the hallway, heading towards the cortex and the people within.

Ronnie didn't waste any time either. He skidded across the sleek floor on his knees, stopping at Barry's side.

"What did you do?" He mumbled accusingly at Oliver. His voice wasn't unlike the Arrow's, intimidating and low.

Oliver continued to try and breathe for Barry, not wishing to answer the question just yet. And definitely not without some form of backup. He didn't really want to face this man alone. Who was he anyway? Him and that other man must have arrived when he and Barry had -

He pushed the memory back, determined to repress it.

Ronnie seemed to have dropped the subject aswell. He copied Oliver's actions previous to his arrival. Checking Barry's pulse.

"It's slow." He grumbled.

"I know." The vigilante replied, between his breaths.

"He's cold."

"I know." Oliver was getting frustrated now. Barry still wasn't breathing!

With one last push, he forced air into Barry's lungs.

Barry's chest rose and fell.

Then rose and fell ...

and again ...

and again.

He was breathing. By himself.

Not entirely well, or what could be considered healthily, but breathing none the less.

The two men fell to the floor, Oliver wiping sweat off his brow, Ronnie lifting Barry's head so he could breathe easier. Wisely, they both stayed silent. Only the sound of the boy's uneven, ragged breathing could be heard breaking the quiet.

Then five people careened into the space.

Caitlin and Cisco were first, sliding onto the floor and pushing both Ronnie and Oliver out of the way. Felicity was next, joining them and offering help where it was needed. Diggle followed, scooping Oliver to his feet and escorting him to sit against a wall. Finally, in came an out of breath Martin Stein.

Ronnie backed away, helping his partner to stay upright, but not letting his glare at Oliver falter for a second. Diggle, noticing the threatening stare from the man towards his best friend, decided it was best not to keep Oliver here. So, quietly, they sneaked out of the room.

"What happened?" Caitlin yelled hysterically.

"I dunno, Cait. We came in here and the rich-boy was breathing for Barry."

"Barry wasn't breathing?" Cisco's voice shook. He didn't like this at all.

Felicity, however, remained focused on Barry. "We need to get him back now. His pulse is slow and his breathing isn't right. Looks like a dislocated shoulder as well." She took a deep breath to collect herself. "I don't think that's the end of the list either."

The atmosphere was grim.

Ronnie ran from the room and picked up an oxygen mask, passing it to Caitlin who placed it over Barry's mouth. Beings as he was unconscious, she also took to opportunity to reset his shoulder with some assistance from Cisco.

Barry didn't even flinch.

Next, they checked him over, not wishing to move him without knowing the full extent of his injuries. Severe bruising around the neck and jaw, a fractured nose, a swollen shoulder and forearm, a grazed cheek.

It seemed he was OK ... within reason. But his pulse was deteriorating, and his breathing was inconsistent, stopping every now and again.

Ronnie scooped Barry up bridal style and they scurried along the corridors. Each of them subconsciously made their strides that extra inch wider whenever Barry's breath hitched.

Once they'd reached the cortex, Ronnie held Barry whilst the two women began to collect wires and needles from every corner of the room.

"Cisco, chuck me that vial."

"Martin, can you get the bed ready?"

"Where's Diggle and Oliver?"

"Guys, Barry's pulse is getting slower!"

"Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on here?" Boomed a familiar voice. But not entirely one they wanted to hear.

Detective Joe West had just walked into the commotion. And he didn't look happy.

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