none of the events actually happened in history/world war two. all mistakes are mine. any grammatical errors are due to english not being my first language. the title is from taylor swift's song, treacherous. story originally posted on ao3. enjoy! rate/review if you think the story deserves it :)
the second world war was consuming every ray of light in the earth in its darkness, and former lab scientist-slash-doctor caitlin snow was working as a medic for her nation's soldiers.
it isn't as easy as being a doctor in the community hospital, or analyzing blood samples and mixtures of chemicals as a scientist.
this is war, and people are killed not by epidemics or diseases. people are killed by big guns and bullets and bombs; people are murdered by others of their kind, because they want or believe in different things. it makes one wonder if people are as great as they speak and claim to be.
ronnie raymond never came back to the tents after a mission.
caitlin never let herself love anyone after him; never let anyone take down her walls. it was too dangerous and it makes her too vulnerable. she's a doctor who's unable to heal her own wounds.
she avoided thinking of ronnie, and whenever he crosses her mind, caitlin dismisses whatever thoughts that lurk and pushes them back to whatever deep, dark abyss in her mind they came from.
months later, a noble warrior by the name of barry allen came into view, and it took all of her being not to grow attached to the man who had just enlisted and got himself wounded.
"you don't smile much," he pointed out, intently staring at caitlin as she treated the ugly gash on his arm. it was the first thing he said to the medic.
because we are at war, she wanted to tell him, because we could as well be blown to bits any minute. because ronnie left and never came back.
she didn't mutter a word, not even a 'you'll be fine' or 'you're good to go'. caitlin only responded with subtle nods, light shaking of her head and fleeting glimpses at barry. when she was done patching him up, she silently stood up and left as the feeling she had only once felt when she was with ronnie hit her again, harder than how bullets pierce through flesh and bone.
she expected never to see barry allen anymore, and hoped that he'd be assigned to another nurse if he gets injured, or that he wouldn't get hurt at all. he was persistent, however, on knowing the seemingly mysterious woman who treated his wounds the other day, and specifically asked to be her patient when he came back with a broken leg.
caitlin had told him that she was still busy treating someone else's wounds, but he said he'd wait.
"there are more nurses in the other side of the tent," she told barry, concerned about his condition as he limped his way to her.
"no, it's fine, i can wait," he croaked out, the pain on his face evident, "besides, i have to walk to get to another nurse. i'm fine."
"you don't seem fine," caitlin said.
"go ahead, i'll wait," he murmured, waving her off.
after the exchange and constant staring caitlin quickly finished treating her current patient's burns. the soldier she was tending to came in contact with fire trying to rescue another man, so she had to carefully maneuver her hands as she treated him. barry rested a foot or two away from them as he waited.
the soldier's story reminded caitlin of ronnie and she attempted to get rid of the bitter memory, almost wrapping the bandages too tight as she fought back her tears.
ronnie was never even supposed to go into combat that day. she told him once that he should not leave, that the others already had everything at bay, that his fellow soldiers could do well without him.
he insisted that he was the only one who knew how to work specifically with that kind of bomb, and that setting it off will take extreme skill and expertise.
she couldn't take control of him anymore. all she hoped was that ronnie would come back, by the end of the day like he had promised. a few wounds wouldn't be a problem- she'd care for him and he'd be better than ever.
except when it was a little after seven pm and everyone in the tents was in chaos. caitlin figured that it was because of the current mission, so she got a hold of a handheld radio, left on the floor by some sergeant. it was pure luck that this one had a connection to ronnie's handset.
she was talking to him, all the way, until she found out that there was no shutting this bomb down, that there was only minimizing its damage to a few meters around it.
she realized ronnie could never outrun the explosion, as he had a broken leg from a fight earlier- and this is the point caitlin starts crying, and stops talking for a while until ronnie tells her he had to go.
she asked him to bring the handheld with him and he agrees. and when he saved people's lives (but lost his), she was talking to him. caitlin felt as if she lost part of her too- one that she wasn't sure she'd be getting back anytime soon, or at all. caitlin could still remember hearing nothing but static from the small speaker of the handheld, sitting in a corner of the tents, searching for his voice, waiting for her lover who would never come back.
the war was over; all soldiers, medics officers- everyone- had already returned to their respective homes. except caitlin, who had lost her parents before she went to the fields as a medic, and barry, who was orphaned when he was 11. they had no one to come home to.
before the end of the war, barry allen already found out how to tear her walls down, brick by brick with ease. they had only talked about the present and the future, with caitlin constantly chastising him for being too brave and stupid, saying that he could have died, and barry constantly reassuring her that he's fine and clearly did not die.
they already talked about the future, when barry snuck out at night and pretended he had wounds and scars that don't even hurt and went to her sleeping post at the tents.
"doctor snow?"
"allen? go back to wherever you came from. it's late."
"i have some scars, and a bruised arm..."
caitlin shushed him and told him to leave, saying the scars don't even hurt.
"you can't refuse a patient, doctor. we're fighting for the freedom and safety of our people," he replied stubbornly with exaggerated patriotism.
the future was blurry; a window clouded with fog, inside and out, nothing visible except specks of dust layered on the glass.
after the war they decided to start new lives, in an apartment in central city, leaving the past behind. a whole year of companionship in the midst of war and grueling pain and grief and seeking comfort in far places when all they've ever looked and hoped for was in each other- in the doctor treating his wounds, being his personal physician and in the patient, too brave, risking his life too often for others.
it was after a few months, when they already found comfort in their small home and in each other, that they received a message in the post. it stated that there was a small uprising in another state, with people not conforming to the leaders' commands. the government was in need of soldiers and medics, promising the volunteers a lifetime of security and comfort after the short mishap.
a lifetime of security and comfort if they come back alive.
it's rare that people don't come back from war- sometimes bodies are lost in the battlefield. barry allen came back, but he was cold and lifeless with gaping wounds in his body(caitlin could have easily stitched him up and shout at him for not taking care of himself again, for almost dying, but this time the wounds were too fatal and the bullets tore through his organs and he didn't almost die, he did).
the feeling of losing someone you love the second time numbs you- this keeps you from feeling anything ever again.
her wounds that she couldn't heal herself were reopened and were worse than they ever were, but there was nothing to feel anymore.
they say that the first time is the worst.
maybe they haven't ever lost a second.
