"Carry my, Carry my"
The song drifted from a small speaker on a nearby counter, low but clear. He could hear the soft crackle of the audio, the exact timing of each drum beat, and the faint whir of the cooling fans inside the device.
"Barry?" Caitlin's face hovered over his, framed by the harsh white of the S.T.A.R. Labs med-bay lights. "Can you hear me?"
He blinked up at her. His heart was steady, but everything around him felt too sharp. The edges of the ceiling tiles, the shine on the metal rails of the bed, and the faint scuffs on the floor near the door. He took a breath. The air felt clean, cool, and heavy with disinfectant.
"I hear you," he said. "I can hear…everything."
Caitlin glanced at the monitor beside him, then back at his eyes. Her expression stayed composed, almost flat. "You woke up very fast. Do you know your name?"
"Barry Allen," he answered. His voice came out steady.
"Where am I?" An awkward tone fueling his words.
He listened for a second, picking out the hum of distant generators, the echo of air moving through old vents.
"S.T.A.R. Labs," Caitlin said. "This is your med-bay."
"You were struck by lightning man." His goofy smile began to fade. " You've been in a coma for nine months."
Nine months. The number landed heavily in his chest. He saw a flash of memory. The roof, the rain, the explosion of light. His mother's face in the gold storm. Her arms around him, her voice saying he had survived.
He swallowed. "Nine months," he repeated quietly.
"Yeah," Cisco said from the other side of him. Barry turned his head to see him leaning a hand on his shoulder, eyes wide with obvious relief.
Pushing his hands against the mattress. His muscles answered without hesitation. They felt full, awake, not weak or unused. "Can I sit up?"
Caitlin hesitated. "Slowly," she said. "You shouldn't even be strong enough to ask."
Barry eased himself upright. No tremor. No spinning room. The sheet slid from his chest, and cool air raised a light shiver across his skin. He noticed the shape of his shoulders, the line of his arms. Leaner. More defined.
Caitlin's gaze flicked over him. Her eyes narrowed by a fraction, then her expression reset. "Any dizziness?" she asked. "Headache? Nausea?"
"No," Barry said. "I feel amazing . Better than I should."
There was the slightest shift in her voice. "Your vitals are stable. That's the only reason I'm allowing you upright."
The door opened with a soft mechanical hiss. Dr. Harrison Wells entered, moving his chair forward with smooth, practiced motions. His eyes locked onto Barry almost immediately.
"Mr. Allen," Wells said. "You are awake. That is very good news."
Barry nodded with admiration. "Dr. Wells."
"You have given us quite the scare Mr. Allen," Wells continued. "Most people do not survive what happened to you. Fewer still wake up like this."
"Like what?" Barry asked.
Caitlin set her clipboard down and moved closer, the clinical mask sliding firmly back into place. "We have been monitoring your body since your vitals stabilized. There are changes we cannot explain with normal recovery."
Barry looked from her to Wells. "What kind of changes?"
Caitlin folded her hands in front of her. "Your muscle mass has increased beyond what we would expect. You have more lean tissue, less fat. This is not consistent with a prolonged coma. Your cardiovascular system is also different. Your heart is pumping more efficiently than before. Your cells are processing energy at an accelerated rate."
"In English?" Cisco asked.
"In English," she said, "his body is acting like it has been conditioned by months of targeted training and optimization. It has not."
Barry stared at her then at the monitoring panel. "Lightning gave me abs?"
"That is not how I would phrase it," Caitlin said. She studied his face more closely now, her gaze moving from his jaw to his eyes, then to his hair. "There are also minor structural changes. Your facial symmetry is increased. Your jawline and cheekbones are slightly more defined. Your skin tone is healthier. Your irises show a stronger golden component under bright light. And your hair has developed lighter strands that were not present in your pre-accident photos. The pattern is uniform."
Barry felt a chill that did not match the warmth moving under his skin. Her words lined up too neatly with what his mother had told him in that glowing place between moments.
You are the start of something new.
Wells' gaze stayed on Barry, thoughtful and sharp. "Whatever happened that night did more than keep you alive. It adapted you to something. The question is what."
Barry let his eyes drift back to the reflective panel. He saw himself, same freckles, same nose. But his face looked more centered somehow. His eyes caught the light with a warm glint that had not been there before. His hair, still messy from the pillow, held thin strands that looked almost sun-touched.
He could recognize the man he had always been.
"I need to go home," he said urgently.
Caitlin blinked. "That is not advisable. You have been awake for minutes. Your body is altered in ways we do not fully understand."
"Joe has been visiting me, right?" Barry asked. "Iris too?"
Cisco nodded. "Pretty much every week. Sometimes more."
"Then they spent nine months watching me sleep," Barry said. "I am not making them wait any longer to see me awake."
Caitlin opened her mouth, then stopped. For a second, something pained flickered across her features, a memory she pushed back down. When she spoke again, her voice was cool. "You could relapse. Your system could destabilize. There are variables we have not tested."
"I feel fine," Barry said. The warmth in his blood felt like a tide he could ride if he chose. "If something goes wrong, I'll just come back."
Wells examined him in silence for a moment. "Mr. Allen," he said, "I am not in the habit of ignoring my medical staff. But I suspect you will leave whether we approve or not."
Barry managed a small, apologetic smile. "Probably."
Wells nodded once. "Then walk. Slowly. If you collapse before the door, Caitlin wins this argument."
Cisco stepped aside with a half grin. "No pressure, man."
Barry lowered his feet to the floor. The concrete was cool beneath them. He stood. His body aligned itself without effort, weight balanced, muscles ready. He crossed the room at an easy pace. No blur, no rushing wind. Just smooth, controlled movement that felt almost too easy.
He paused at the door and looked back. Caitlin's arms were folded tight across her chest, her eyes pinned to the monitor instead of his face. Cisco watched him with open curiosity. Wells' gaze held something heavier. Calculation. Hope. Worry.
"You are the most interesting medical case I have ever had." Caitlin replied.
He could almost laugh. "I will try to take that as a compliment." A smile orientated his face.
"I'll be back." A trashy Russian accent accompanying his last words.
Then he stepped into the empty corridor. The hum of the building wrapped around him. The old metal. Empty rooms. Distant echoes. Somewhere out in the city, Joe and Iris were living their lives without him.
The warmth deepened immediately in his eyes like a promise.
He started walking toward the exit, and for the first time, the world felt like it was waiting for him to catch up.
Cisco snorted, while Caitlin and Dr. Wells look at him in slight confusion. "Oh please, like you guys never seen Terminator."