Barry heard the words, he heard the tone, but it came through as if he was underwater. He was sure his breath shouldn't sound like that, and the edges of his vision were starting to go a little fuzzy, and, and, and how hard could he squeeze on his own neck, not too hard right, what if he suffocated while he was trying to stop the bleeding, and...

"H...arry," he whispered, pushing to one knee and immediately falling backward to slam against the wall, the palm of his other hand skidding on a smear of blood on the floor before he could get his balance back. "Harry," he tried again and it sounded awful but he had to keep going, "Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't—"