[She startles like she expects it to be Savitar at her side. That is, with a shriek and throwing her hands out like she's going to shove him him away or punch him or suddenly be able to defeat evil speedsters in metal suits with just her hands. But instead of cold metal she latches on to warm flesh and the fact that whoever it is, is mortal makes her grip even harder.
He's real. He feels real. He's not Savitar. She's not in the storm anymore. She doesn't think she's bleeding out from a horrible stab wound to the heart but for a long time what she thought and what she felt and what she saw were never the same thing.]
Please. [She digs her fingers in like claws, hard enough to bruise, because if she lets go then she might leave again. It's then that she realizes who she's got in a death grip. The hair looks different, his shoulders are bowed in a way she's never seen, but she knows Barry Allen better than anyone on the planet and it feels like him.]
no subject
He's real. He feels real. He's not Savitar. She's not in the storm anymore. She doesn't think she's bleeding out from a horrible stab wound to the heart but for a long time what she thought and what she felt and what she saw were never the same thing.]
Please. [She digs her fingers in like claws, hard enough to bruise, because if she lets go then she might leave again. It's then that she realizes who she's got in a death grip. The hair looks different, his shoulders are bowed in a way she's never seen, but she knows Barry Allen better than anyone on the planet and it feels like him.]
Barry?