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Tell Me Why It Hurts	By : NekoMalik Category: DC Verse Comics > The Flash Views: 1212 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Flash, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Tell Me Why It Hurts
- 2-Chapter Two
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The duffel bag fell to the ground with a thump and a crunch, flopping over to one side, but none of the men assembled paid it any attention. Five sets of eyes had fixed themselves on a point not too far behind Hartley’s head, a shocked silence spreading across the assembled audience. Even Axel remained completely still, face twisted into a stupid expression that would have made the Piper laugh had he been in the right frame of mind to see it.

He knew that voice, knew it too well. He’d heard it too many times, in his dreams, since James had left him. Occasionally, he heard it while awake too, speaking to him whenever he worked a little too hard, stayed up a little too late, and it was nigh on impossible to ignore. The musician figured he was going crazy – again – telling himself over and over that James was dead, he wasn’t coming back, and it was his fault.

The hand on his shoulder convinced him that he wasn’t imagining things. Spinning on his heel, the redhead stared up into familiar blue eyes, his own green ones wide and glassy. The Trickster was wearing his orange striped uniform, ripped and dirty, exactly the way Piper remembered it looking the last time he’d seen the blonde’s rotting corpse. James smiled down at him, an expression that wasn’t quite his usual Trickster grin, it was a smile Hartley had seen only a few times in the weeks leading up to James’ death, always aimed at him, but – no, this wasn’t James!

“No!” Hartley pulled away from the gentle touch, taking several steps back from the man, the impostor who had James’ face, James’ voice, James’ body. “No, you’re dead, you died! I watched you die!” He broke down then, a violent sob ripping its way from his throat as tears fell unheeded down his cheeks, never taking his eyes off the fake...off James.

“I know...Hartley, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” The blonde raised his arm, palm upwards, reaching for Piper as he stepped towards the distraught redhead. For every step forward James took, Hartley took one backwards, terrified and completely confused as to what all this meant. His foot caught on a protruding rock and the musician went down like a stone, grazing his elbow through his uniform as he landed, before pushing himself back up into a sitting position.

“I-I...he shot you, and then you...you were...and it was my fault!” Piper’s attempt at speaking degraded into choked sobs, the other Rogues still staring on in shock, listening to every word the pair exchanged. When the blonde crouched down to pull Hartley into an awkward hug, Len had unsheathed his cold gun, pointing it at the other man in case he tried anything, in case he wanted to hurt Piper.

“What the hell?” The older man finally growled, though his words fell on deaf ears as the two men on the ground seemed to have forgotten the others were there. Trickster, or whoever this man was, had begun rocking Hartley backwards and forwards gently, making quiet shushing sounds. The redhead in his arms had practically curled himself around the other man, not bothering to muffle his cries as he clung on to the friend he thought he had lost.

The blonde paid no attention to the other Rogues, up until the point he found a wand pressed against his temple and a slightly nervous, very angry Weather Wizard staring down at him. “Who the hell are you? Is this some kind of sick joke?” Narrowing his eyes at the familiar figure in front of him, who still made no move to release the sobbing Piper, Mark felt a sense of fury bubble up inside him. “Get your hands off Piper. Now.” He sent a small shock through the air, enough to let the other man know he wasn’t playing around but not enough to hurt him.

“Cool it, Mardon.” The man with James’ face snapped, reluctantly letting the redhead go. Looking back to Hartley, he felt some regret when he finally noticed the pain and uncertainty written across the smaller man’s face. The blonde gripped the glove that was shrouding his left hand, removing it before pulling back his orange sleeve to reveal two rings of darkened scar tissue, one completely flat, the other slightly raised, as though the man had been stitched back together.

“Oh...” Hartley wasn’t sure if the little noise he’d made was even audible to the others, but to him it seemed so very loud. Hands shaking, he pulled off his own right glove, revealing a single, matching ring; the result of wearing the electrified cuffs for so long. Looking up to meet James’ eyes, his breathing laboured, Hartley had no idea what he should do. “How..?” In all honestly, the redhead didn’t care how his friend had returned, only that he had, but he didn’t know what else to say, what else to do. Months of pain and distress were flooding through his system, but something else had joined them, something...warm, soft. For the first time since James had died, the Pied Piper allowed himself a single glimmer of hope.

“I don’t know, but...oh Hartley, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you all alone, I never wanted to hurt you.” James gripped at the other man, feeling tears well up in his own eyes.

“Th-then why, why did you take the bullet?” Despite himself, Hartley found his hands reaching for James, wanting so badly to pull the other man closer, to close what felt like a chasm-like gap between their two bodies.

“I couldn’t let him hurt you.” They were both crying now, hands scrabbling for purchase against the slick fabric of their uniforms, needing something solid to hold on to for fear of falling.

“I th-thought you hated me, all the comments, the gay bashing-“ Piper wasn’t even allowed to finish before James placed a single finger against his lips, effectively silencing the musician. The hand it was attached to moved to cup his face, thumb tracing lightly over his lips as the redhead leaned into the touch, letting out a slight sigh.

“I never hated you, Hartley, I was just scared. God, I’m such an idiot!” James was trembling; he was still scared, but it didn’t matter. Some things were just more important than your own personal pride, perception of the other Rogues be damned.

“B-but why? Why did you have to die James? I’m not worth that sort of sacrifice.” Hartley found his hands moving up to touch the blonde’s face, tracing over that strong jaw line. He couldn’t begin to fathom the mixture of emotions that surged through him at simply being able to touch James Jesse again.

“You are to me.” James was on him then, kissing him, stealing the breath from Hartley’s lungs. The instant their lips met, Piper lost himself, giving in completely to the talented mouth that was claiming his own. He hadn’t expected it, but it hadn’t really come as a surprise either, and it all just felt so right. Suddenly, the intensity of the pain he had felt at losing the blonde all made terrifying sense.

I’m in love with him.
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Tell Me Why It Hurts