If You Can't Be With the One You Love

Healing and Restoration

As Barry wakes up, he slightly shifts his hand and places it on his thigh. He lets out a sigh in the realization that he still couldn't feel anything. It was becoming more and more frustrating by the day. He wanted to be able to walk. He wanted to be able to run. He wanted to be able to fight back.

But he couldn't. He was stuck in his own pit of misery— glued to his bed or a wheelchair, powerless against the people who did this to him. He had become completely dependent on someone else. He couldn't go to the bathroom on his own. He could not shower on his own. He could barely eat on his own. Yet, not even a month ago he was speeding around Central City saving lives.

It enraged him. It saddened him. It also motivated him.

He kept thinking about the day he would regain the feeling in his legs and would have the ability to act on the thoughts that poisoned his mind. To finally be able to run again. To be free of the chains of the paralysis that restricted him and set him back in his goals of vengeance. He wanted to get back to work but for the moment, he couldn't. He had to accept his predicament and allow others to help him get stronger because ultimately that was his goal— to be stronger.

He looked to his right and smiled. He seemed to tame the irate feelings that flew around in his mind. Oliver rested on his back, having a peaceful restfulness about him. He knew he was going to have to wake him up, there was no other way for him to get ready for the day.

He slightly nudged Oliver with his hand and got no response. He then started to shake his shoulder in a light manner, saying Oliver's name repeatedly. He woke up in a panic, immediately turning to look at Barry with worry. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Barry tells him defensively. "I was just waking you up."

Oliver lets out a sigh in relief before bringing his attention to the clock on the nightstand beside him. "We need to leave soon, don't we?"

Barry nods. He reaches his arm out to Oliver, giving him a smug smile. "I'm sure Cait won't mind us being a little late."

"I do not want to test that," Oliver says softly. Barry was set to start some physical training to strengthen and retrain the muscles that had weakened in his upper body during his coma.

Oliver takes Barry's hand. "Any change?"

"Nothing." Barry responds in defeat. Oliver shoots him an empathetic look with his eyes before mustering up an assuring smile.

"It'll come back soon. Just have patience."

Barry patiently waits in the bed as Oliver makes his way to Barry's closet, grabbing a tee off of a hanger as well as a pair of loose sweats from the dresser that rested next to the doorway. He walked towards Barry, placing the clothing items next to him. He rests his hand underneath the small of Barry's back and lifts his torso up, using pillows to prop up the upper half of his body.

Barry lifts his arms up, allowing Oliver to slip on the tee over his bare body. He finishes it himself by pulling it over his ribs and stomach. One after the other, Oliver places Barry's legs through the elastic waist, carefully drawing the pants over his limp legs. Barry felt none of it. He just watched as Oliver assisted him in doing something he used to be able to do for himself every day. A daily skill that his parents taught him to do, something that had become a natural, routine thing for him to do in the last 29 years of his life. He physically was unable to do it.

"It's cool outside." Oliver begins. "You want a sweatshirt?" Barry somberly nods his head bringing his attention away from Oliver as he slides the hoodie over him. "You need to use the bathroom or anything?"

"Could you bring me my deodorant?" Barry asks. "And whatever I need to brush my teeth?" Oliver shoots him a soft smile before walking out of the room to the bathroom. When he returned and handed him what he had asked for, he gave Barry a questioning look. "What?"