"Yeah," says Barry, taking comfort in that, but it's impossible not to notice Derek's hands. "God, I'm being an asshole," he exhales, "Are you okay? Are you eating? I passed out, like, five times my first day as a speedster, you need to eat, Derek. And do you have questions?"

The moon is like a siren above him, not a beautiful, mythical temptress but a wailing air raid, but Barry can ignore it for Derek. "Mostly being a speedster is just awesome, but I don't want you to get hurt."