Chapter Text
In some ways, Barry was very lucky. He finished at work, managed to arrest the magician thief in a successful team-up with Captain Cold, he doesn't think that anyone saw him when he tripped, and his scent patches didn't fall off until he was alone. It's good to think about the positives in life. Maybe if he thinks strongly enough, he will manage to forget that his heat came in out of nowhere and hit him like a brick to the face.
One moment he's running home, and the next the world is blurry and his limbs are too sluggish to be of use. Barry only just managed to stumble up three stories of a closed car park before his legs decided that they'd done enough, and he had to crawl into one of the very few corners of the building.
He is terrifyingly aware that this is not a good shelter. The entry doors may be blocked off for renovations, but it's still very much an open space that doesn't have anything to hide behind except for the sparse support poles. The floor is hard, wind breezes through, and there's absolutely no doubt that anyone determined enough could break their way in.
Barry shivers. In an ideal world, people would pick up the scent of an Omega in heat and respectfully avoid the area that he crashed. Sadly, this is not an ideal world.
His eyes frantically dart around at the barest whisper of sound. There is a very real threat if he gets noticed by someone wandering too close to his hiding place. Barry curls his legs closer in an imitation of comfort, mercilessly aware that he lies on dusty gravel, alone, and without a single loved one's scent around him.
He bites back a distressed whimper. This wasn't supposed to happen. He hasn't had a heat since he was hit by lightning, and that was... Years ago, if you count time travel shenanigans, universal resets, and a few multiverse ripples changing things around. At this point Barry just thought that his speedster biology got rid of them entirely.
After all, it's not that he doesn't experience any part of his cycle. His body still has his hormones bouncing around and building into a preheat. It just... doesn't go anywhere. He wants more cuddles, gets hungry and maybe a bit moody. But then it doesn't go any further, it just... stops. Like he stepped under a cold shower and washed off the burning sun under his skin.
It's why Barry didn't think anything of his preheat when he went out as the Flash, because nothing ever happens. Yet here he is. Somewhere in the city that he doesn't recognize, curled on the ground of an honestly uninviting construction made for cars. And at any point in time someone could break in for shits and giggles and find the Flash more vulnerable than ever.
Barry barks a choked laugh. Because he can't tell if the costume would make that situation better or worse. Either way, he'd be fucked. Hopefully metaphorically.
But with how stressed everything about this situation makes him, he's probably speeding up that revelation just with his scent spreading. Pressing his forehead against the floor, Barry tries to will his body into stopping its pheromone production.
That somehow makes it worse.
His stupid body thinks that being in heat and vulnerable to the environment means that it should send out a distress signal as loudly as possible to get someone to make it better. Which is exactly what he's trying to avoid! All because his darn biology doesn't realize that people aren't living in small villages full of trustworthy packs anymore. Being an Omega without any way to defend himself is the short end of the stick.
Before he became a speedster, Barry's heat was rather mild and tended to be of the "pajama day and chips" type. He's seriously missing those times right now.
And yet, the Speed Force hums under his skin, announcing his nemesis' arrival like a trumpet of doom. The Reverse Flash appears at a short distance from him.
At this point Barry just wants to cry and never get up again. Because really? Now is the time that Eobard wants to start a fight? If this is some new way of kicking a guy while he's down, it would fit perfectly. Barry is very much down, and his brain is ready to put him through a mental breakdown if he even thinks of standing up right now.
"What is this?"
It takes way too many seconds for him to understand that Eobard said something. And the answer to that is... really obvious.
Groaning, Barry mutters, "C'n we do this s'metime else? 'm too busy f'r what'ver plans y' have."
Red eyes burn with rage, but then dim down again. Eobard frowns as he takes him in, showing that deep crease over his right eyelid that tells him the Reverse is actually thinking through something rather than plotting his downfall. He's seen it during a few of their rare team-ups in the name of saving the Speed Force. It's an odd sight on the fully costumed Reverse Flash.
Eobard asks, "Why didn't you head to your nest? Or to one of those countless allies that you adore to stick yourself to."
Barry glares, feeling way too judged by someone who likes to make his life miserable for fun. But the Alpha doesn't back down, and Barry isn't interested in an argument.
"Didn't know 't was goin' to happ'n," he begrudgingly admits.
His cheek hurts from grating against the floor while he talks, so Barry forces himself to turn more on his back rather than on his side. That position is way less defensible or comforting, but he's in too much pain to ignore it.
Eobard's eyes zoom in on the gesture, then his eyes widen in understanding. He clicks his tongue. "Only you would think to cause trouble like this."
Barry is about to snap back, but Eobard is already gone.
Now alone again, a sudden pit of dread curls up in him. With his nemesis around, he forgot just how big this place is. How small it makes him feel. This place makes him want to run away despite knowing just how sluggish everything feels. He bites back a whimper, tasting blood in his mouth. It's cold in here.
A crackle in the Speed Force tells him that Eobard is back. Barry doesn't get the time to be bewildered before something soft smacks against his face.
A flat "Ouch" is all he has to say.
Barry pulls off the offending item but freezes when it registers just how soft it is. It's a large pillow. His arms automatically clutch it close like someone is going to try and take it from him.
Turning his head, Barry looks at Eobard questioningly. The Alpha growls frustrated and looks away with gritted teeth. "I won't have you lying here looking this pathetic when there is no merit to be attributed to me." While he says that, a bundle appears at barely an arm's length from him.
And maybe he should question things, maybe investigate what's going on, but Barry is tired.
He pulls his cowl down and ignores the surprised huff. Shifting around a bit, he pulls the pillow underneath him to cushion the ground from head to hips. Then he grabs the new item and spreads the duvet over himself until he is as cocooned as he could possibly be.
Barry is still stranded in that darn car park, but with this additional padding and shelter... it's pretty comforting. An aggressive sigh has him peek outside his small imitation of a den just in time to watch Eobard unexpectedly pull off his cowl. The man looks every bit as irritated to be here, but instead of speeding away, he sits down and leans against one of the supporting poles.
The Alpha pulls at his yellow suit until the collar loosens and then pulls off his scent patches.
Barry probably projects as much disbelief as he feels, but Eobard doesn't acknowledge him. Instead, the overpowering smell of Alpha and electrically charged ozone reaches his nose. A burning signal of Annoyed-MINE-BACK OFF stings through the air, making him scrunch his nose. But then he catches the softer undertones apples, hiding a hush of Protective-Anxious.
Barry has no idea what is happening right now. But still, seeing Eobard glare into the air with the knowledge that he's going to stay and keep watch... it makes the alarm in his brain go quiet.
Relief mixes with bone-deep tiredness. Now that he doesn't have to keep constant vigilance, his body decides that there doesn't need to be more energy wasted on this. Barry unceremoniously finds himself agreeing and burrows his face into the pillow he hugs close. In the safety of his cocoon, knowing that he is looked out for, Barry feels his breath slowly even out.
Before he falls asleep, he remembers to mutter a tired, "Thanks."