"Stay the hell away, Finch!" Shaw yelled. "Dammit, Fusco, hold him down!"
As John struggled and howled, Harold backed off, heart pounding, trying not to come undone. John had taken a chemical blast right to the face, and Shaw was keeping Harold from getting a good look at how much damage had been done. If he were honest with himself, he appreciated the mercy: The almost inhuman cries of pain and terror were already more than he could bear.
He didn't stick around to see Shaw get the needle in.
"It's bad, Finch," Shaw said soberly, and Harold braced himself. "I'm worried about his eyes, but I think we managed to flush out the chemicals before they could do permanent damage. It'll be weeks before we can find out for sure - and they gotta stay bandaged the whole time. Broken ribs, lacerations, and a fractured wrist. He's got nasty chemical burns on his hands, but they'll heal. If he wants to stay flexible, he's gonna need to stretch the new skin a lot while it's growing in. And the brain swelling wasn't as bad as we feared - another day or two and it should go down enough that we can take him home."
Harold nodded, trying to take it all in. Things could have gone so much worse - but now, for all the damage, all the recovery time ahead, it almost felt like he could breathe again.
"The thing is," Shaw continued, shaking her head, "he's been fighting us whenever the sedative wears off. Maybe we're not doing enough for the pain, or… he might think he's been captured."
"He doesn't realize we escaped?" Harold leaned to look around Shaw, but couldn't see John. "Is it the brain swelling? Hallucinations, or… maybe he can't think straight, can't remember?"
"Could be, but an explosion that close to him?" She sighed. "I think he's deaf. We've ruled out perforated eardrums; best-case scenario's a temporary threshold shift - might be gone in hours - or it could be a symptom of the brain swelling. But because of that-"
"-you can't tell him that he's safe," Harold finished, feeling the blood drain from his face. "…or that the blindness is temporary."
"If he stayed calm, we could start using Tap Code, but…." She gestured helplessly.
"Can I- is it safe to-"
"We've got him restrained. I wouldn't let you in before because he could have killed you. But now… you can give it a try. Any way you can - calm him down, comfort him… do it."
Harold nodded, and, taking a deep, shaky breath, stepped past her, bracing himself for the sight of his dearest friend in physical and mental anguish, strapped down in silent darkness.