Author's Note: Hey guys! So this story is a product of my first ever request. So thank you WolfKomoki for requesting it, because I had fun working on it :) Hope you all enjoy!

Two months. It had taken Captain David Singh two months to work up the courage to visit a quite comatose Barry Allen. Which he knew, of course, was ridiculous.

At first, he had blamed it on the fact that there was just too much work to get done, what with all of the damages and problems the Particle Accelerator Explosion had caused. Not to mention that the police force was a man short with Barry gone. Then he blamed it on the fact that the hospital wasn't the closest to his house, that it was so far out of his way with his busy schedule as captain. Joe understood, and he was sure Barry would too, if he were conscious. Lastly, he tried to blame it on the fact that just when he was starting to come around to the idea, Joe went ahead with the crazy decision to move the CSI to the very place that had caused his accident: STAR Labs. For better treatment, Joe had said, but he still didn't quite understand. The place gave him the creeps, reminded him of all the chaos that had been caused with that cursed invention.

Finally, however, David had to admit to himself that the real reason it had taken him so long to go and see his young forensic scientist was because he was afraid. Afraid of seeing such a hardworking, friendly, kind young man confined to a small bed, hooked up God knew how many machines, broken and unaware. Fragile. But he couldn't avoid the issue anymore - and, if he was being honest with himself, he missed Barry. It was strange not seeing him around the precinct on a daily basis, busying himself with whatever new case came in. Or going out to crime scenes, helping to investigate. While Singh knew that seeing him in a hospital bed would in no way be the same, it was something, at least.

And so on his Saturday off, after obtaining permission from Joe, the police captain made his way over to STAR Labs - or what was left of it, really. The place was a wreck. Several portions of the building were cracked or charred, windows broken, chunks missing. It generally looked very unstable, and not for the first time, David questioned Joe's sanity in his choice to have his foster son moved to the complex. But it didn't much matter what he thought; it wasn't his call to make. With a deep breath, the man made his way to the main entrance.

The door, to his surprise, was unlocked. There was no buzzer to ring, no one waiting to let him in. The captain walked in with no issues, and he idly thought that they really ought to up their security. There might not be much to guard anymore, but hell, a member of the CCPD was being cared for in the facility. Something was surely in order. Though, he supposed anyone sane avoided the place. Singh ran a hand through his hair, looking around where he now stood. There were multiple places to go, and he wasn't exactly sure which direction was right. Where would they keep a coma patient? With a sigh, the man pulled out his phone and shot off a quick text to Joe. Thankfully, it wasn't long before the detective came to collect him.

"David," the other man greeted with a brief nod, approaching from down the right corridor. The captain offered him a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Joe," he greeted in return.

"Glad you could make it," Joe added, giving his boss the slimmest of smiles in return; it was obvious it wasn't genuine either, but Singh didn't blame him at all. There was a bit of an awkward silence for a moment between the two men before Joe spoke again.

"Barry's upstairs," he got out simply before turning back down the way he had come, motioning for Singh to follow. Without a word, he did, trudging behind the detective. It didn't take long to reach an elevator, which the two entered silently together. David watched as Joe hit the button for floor three, and waited as it brought them up. As the doors opened, the captain couldn't help but be surprised at the area they walked into.

Considering it was a condemned complex, he hadn't exactly envisioned anything state-of-the-art to have survived. But this room was incredible, large with multiple computers and lots of other equipment.

"The Cortex. Kind of like the heart of the place," Joe explained as he saw the look on his face, then motioned to the opposite side of the grand room. Singh immediately looked over and, with a jolt, saw what he wasn't sure how he had missed. There, lying in a bed connected to a several monitors and an oxygen cannula was none other than Barry Allen. The police captain inadvertently grimaced at the sight, seeing the young man like this. There were two other people already by his side. He recognized the first young woman as Joe's daughter, Iris; he had met her several times before. The second woman was a stranger in a white labcoat, hovering over the comatose man and muttering to herself as she jotted things down on her clipboard.

"Dr. Snow," Joe spoke up loudly. The woman, Dr. Snow apparently, jumped a bit in surprise; clearly she hadn't heard them come in. "How's he doing?"

The doctor smiled tightly, pitifully. "No change, detective," she said. "Sorry to disappoint."

Joe sighed and ran a hand over his face; Iris stood up and walked over to her father's side, placing a hand on his shoulder. Singh shifted awkwardly.

"I can, uh, go -" he started, but Joe shook his head.

"No, no, it's fine," Joe was quick to say, sucking in a breath and straightening up. "In fact, we should be going to pick up some lunch. You're welcome to stay as long as you want," he added kindly. "We'll be back soon."

"Oh, you don't have to -" David started again, but the detective and his daughter were already gone. Which left him alone in the room with his unconscious employee and the young doctor. Slowly, he made his way closer to the bed, feeling like he was intruding somehow. As he finally approached the bedside, Dr. Snow looked up at him with a curious look.

"You're his boss, right?" she asked, raising an eyebrow; Singh nodded.

"Yeah. David Singh," he introduced; the woman nodded now.

"Dr. Caitlin Snow," she said in return. "I'm Barry's doctor."

"I figured that much," he replied, and the young doctor flushed a bit.

There was an awkward silence then between the two, and David took a moment to really look at the comatose young man with a sigh, crossing his arms.

"So there's really been no change, huh? He hasn't been getting any better?"

Caitlin's face softened. "Not since the first week or so of treatment here," she told him. "We got him stable, managed to stop all of the seizures and most of the tachycardia he was experiencing, but there's been nothing else since then."

"Tachycardia?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fast heart rate. Sorry, sometimes I forget not everyone knows the terms. Cisco gives me flack for it all the time."

David decided not to point out the fact that she hadn't told him who this Cisco person was either, letting it slide. There was another silent pause between the two before Caitlin spoke up again.

"Anyways - I was just here to do a quick check in," she said, motioning to the clipboard in her other hand. "I'll give you some time with him."

The doctor turned then and walked from the room, her high heels clacking against the floor and eventually fading out of earshot. Now Singh was really alone with his young CSI, and he found himself frozen in place for several seconds before he could force himself two slide into the chair vacated by Iris. The captain wrung his hands together, looking at Barry sadly.

"...hey, Allen," the man said once he found the confidence. His voice seemed to echo in the large, intimidating space; he sighed at how odd it sounded. "So I - ah, I don't know if you can hear me, but you gotta pull yourself together, kid. We really miss you around the precinct."

Singh paused then, a habit, as if waiting for a response. Obviously, although disappointingly, there was none. Barry continued to lie still on the bed, eyes closed, breathing even; the older man frowned. It looked like the forensic scientist was sleeping, really. Not like he had been struck by lightning and nearly died.

"Damn it, Allen," David spoke again finally, his voice frustrated. "It's always something with you, isn't it? You always seem to have the worst luck." He shook his head, though kept his eyes locked on the comatose man.

"Alright, Barry," he said, surprising himself a bit with the use of the kid's first name; he didn't use it very often. "I really hope you can hear me, because you I want you to listen good and well. You need to get better, alright? You need to recover. For Iris, for Joe - for everyone, Barry. We all need you back. So come back, okay?"

Singh didn't know what he expected. For Barry to be miraculously woken by his little speech right then and there? That was stupid. Maybe for a twitch, or something. Eye movement. Anything that might have indicated awareness, that he could hear him. That he was still in there. But there was nothing. David ran a hand through his hair, standing up. He couldn't help but feel disappointed, even if he had expected nothing more than exactly what had happened. Barry had been in a coma for two months; he wasn't about to wake up simply because his boss had told him to.

The police captain should have waited for Joe and Iris to come back, or at the very least told the doctor that he was leaving. But he didn't know when the father-daughter duo would be back, or where Caitlin had gone. And the room, although large, was starting to feel suffocating. The man turned on his heel and quickly left, taking the elevator back down the way he had come and heading out the main doors of the compound he had walked in just minutes earlier.

"Just come back."