Thank you guys for all the reviews! Honestly still kind of amazed anyone likes these stories - been coming up with them in my head for forever but never wrote any of them down before - so thanks! You make me want to write more :) Anyway, a lot of medical stuff in this chapter - did a lot of research to try and make stuff accurate but I am not a doctor so roll with me on this one.
Barry clenched his hands, trying to stay still while Caitlin looked at the wound on his shoulder.
"The tissue is damaged," she said, "It looks like… looks like you got burned, then hit with the cold gun over it. It's not healing. Your cells are attacking each other, trying to regenerate at different speeds. There's a lot of dead tissue from the frostbite – and it looks like the infection isn't going away here – it might be a different bacteria. I can try another set of antibiotics, but honestly Barry even if it cuts off the infection, there's no guarantee I won't still have to cut out the damaged tissue."
Barry swallowed hard. "How much is there?"
"It's not wide, just long, and somewhat deep. I'd have to stitch it up afterwards. Normally, I'd say it was going to leave a nasty scar, but with your healing I really don't know."
"What happens if you don't cut it out?" Barry asked.
Caitlin paused. "Best case scenario? You wind up with severe scarring and some damaged nerves. Worst case scenario – the infection spreads and it kills you."
"Assuming a different antibiotic will get rid of the infection?"
"We have to amputate your arm."
Barry put his head in his hands, breathed out a long sigh. "Doesn't sound like there's much choice then."
"I could try the antibiotics."
"I really don't want any more shots."
"No promises. You might need it anyway."
"What happens if we wait and try them?"
"If it works then I'll get rid of the worst of the dead tissue and there will be some bad scarring but that's it. If it doesn't work then the wound will get worse and it's going to take me longer to fix it."
Barry let out a shaky breath. "Alright," he said, "let's do it."
Caitlin called Cisco. He came back to the lab to help. Caitlin cleared off space at a table to work on. Barry watched while they got all the supplies ready. It made his stomach clench every time he saw a new scalpel or needle or other menacing looking item he couldn't identify. He was making himself sick, watching them.
"Barry," Caitlin said, noticing his eyes on them for the first time, "You're not helping yourself. Don't watch."
Barry looked down, but he didn't really know what else to do. He ended up taking out his phone, in a vain attempt to do something else. Caitlin called him over when they were ready.
She had the tools out of sight when he approached, even though his eyes darted around looking for them. They had a plastic sheet over the table.
"Lie down on your stomach," Caitlin said.
Barry gingerly lowered himself to the table, the injuries that still weren't fully healed protesting. He put his head between his arms. Caitlin took his arm and gently moved it into a different position though. Cisco grabbed a sweatshirt and balled it up for him to use as a pillow. Barry smiled in thanks, before settling back down.
His heart was pounding a little too much and he was nervous. It couldn't be worse than when they had to get the suit off, he told himself. It was still different though. He didn't have time to think about it then, now he had plenty of time for his mind to run circles around the procedure.
Caitlin touched his shoulder, her fingers cold and he tensed, almost jumping.
"Relax," she said, moving her hand over his shoulder. "The more you tense up, the more it will hurt."
"That's really not very reassuring," he said.
She sighed. "Just concentrate on staying still and relaxing the muscles in your back and arms."
He felt pressure on his back, tensed again involuntarily, but didn't feel any pain. He started to relax again, and that's when the little sparks of pain started up, just around the edges. She was getting rid of the dead tissue, and starting to cut into the inflamed, damaged sections. Barry closed his eyes and squeezed his one hand to a fist, trying his best to keep his other arm relaxed. It was hard though. He burrowed his head into the sweatshirt as it started to get worse. His toes curled and his teeth clenched. His arms started to shake and he kept moving his legs, twitching and fidgeting. He couldn't stay still.
"Barry," Caitlin said, "I need you to relax."
"I'm trying," he said. She was still cutting into him and the images of those scalpels came back, replaying behind his eyes.
She moved her hand to his neck, but it was gentle now, going back and forth and playing at the edge of his hair. "I need you to stop shaking."
Barry let out a long breath and focused on that, on calming down and breathing through the pain. He managed to stop, to get his body to still, and then Caitlin's hand left his neck and dread resurfaced in a cloud inside his head.
The first stab made him grunt, but for the most part he was silent, clenching his teeth tightly shut. He just had to make it through this, he told himself. It was just a little bit longer.
By the time she was finished it felt like his back was on fire and Cisco kept dabbing towels at his skin; he knew it was bleeding badly.
"I'm going to start the stitches now," Caitlin said.
"OK," Barry said, pushing his forehead against his arm. He was covered in sweat and he was back at the edge of that line of self-control. He just wanted it over with.
The needle slid into his skin and Barry gasped. It was painful and strange and it felt wrong. He could feel it going through his skin and out again and the thread trailing behind and it made him squirm. When Caitlin was cutting out the damaged tissue, it had hurt, but it had been through skin that was burnt and frozen and damaged to a point where it didn't connect to his nerves quite right. It had hurt, but this was going through healthy, normal skin, and she was stretching it taunt across the wound and his skin did not want to stretch like that, did not want to stretch like that at all.
He felt hands come down on his back, a steady, hard pressure, and he pushed back, startled.
"It's just me," Cisco said, "You're moving too much."
And Barry really, really did not like the feeling of not being able to move. Caitlin was making another stitch and Barry jerked under her fingers, and Cisco pressed down and he started shaking again, and his head spun.
"I know it hurts, Barry, but it will be over sooner if you hold still for me."
Barry shut his eyes, ground his forehead into the table and shuddered. He forced his arm to relax, to stop shaking, to steady his breathing. It hurt, it hurt so much, and all he wanted to do was stop, but he made his body keep still and let Caitlin make another stitch. The only sound was his labored breathing, the quiet, suppressed noises of pain. And he was thinking about how he was never, ever going to get himself cut open again.
"That's good, Barry," Caitlin said.
"How many does it need?" Barry asked when he trusted his voice again.
"Just focus on staying still."
"Caitlin."
"The less you move, the faster I can get it done."
"How many though? How much longer?"
"You've got a little ways to go, Barry."
Barry felt like screaming. He wanted to scream. Or cry. He definitely wanted to cry. This was too much – the suit and then the burns and being sick and the shots and the cutting and now he was exhausted and done, so done. And it hurt. It hurt a lot. It was worse than the suit stuck to his skin, worse than his dislocated shoulder, than the antibiotic shots. The only thing he could think of that surpassed it were when he punched Tony Woodward and broke every bone in his wrist and hand and probably when he was standing between Cold and Heat Wave with both guns on him. But those weren't for sustained amount of times. It was one shock of pain and then it was done. And he hadn't had to stay still for it.
"Barry, you have to stop shaking."
Barry hadn't even realized he had started again. There was an edge to Caitlin's voice which he hadn't expected. He was clenching both hands now, tensing up his arm and back and every part of his body, trying to keep himself from screaming.
"I can't, Caitlin," he ground out.
A moment later the pressure on his back switched and Cisco was holding his arm in place, and with the other hand his shoulder.
"You have to try for me, Barry," Caitlin said. "Focus. Calm yourself down, stop tensing up. You need to listen to me, Barry, it's going to get much more painful if you don't."
Barry wanted to stop now. He had half a mind to tell her that, but his body ran cold and he took a deep breath and concentrated again, made his muscles relax, made himself stop shaking, stay still. Caitlin was stitching while he did it, and every one made him clench his hand tighter, arch his feet and tense his legs.
"Wait," he said, his breath ragged. Caitlin paused.
"Barry, I have to –"
"Just – give me something to bite down on."
There was a pause, a long pause. His jaw already hurt, he was going to break his teeth at this rate.
He still had his eyes closed, sweat dripping down his forehead. Something was pressed into his mouth and he bit down. Caitlin kept going.
It felt like an eternity. Caitlin stopped telling him to hold still, Cisco just pressed on his shoulder harder and Caitlin did the best she could with Barry shaking. She was trying to go quickly, to go as fast as she could to get it over with for him, but it was a ragged cut and she had to be careful too.
Barry bit down hard on whatever they had given him. Felt kind of like leather, maybe a strip of the torn up suit. He was overheating, terribly hot, but he barely noticed. He was trying to stay still, trying to keep his concentration, but the pain was like a wave threatening to push him under. He wanted to pass out. He wished he would pass out. But no, his mind stayed stubbornly awake. Awake and totally conscious of the searing, stabbing pain radiating from his shoulder. He tried relaxing his arm, tensing his arm – he couldn't feel the difference anymore so he gave up and pulled his muscles tight, relinquishing that facet to put his whole focus into not breaking down screaming. He could feel it threatening, that overwhelming desire to jump up, scream, fight. And underneath it was the crushing fear, the idea that he had to remain in control of himself, because if he lost it – if he lost it they would still hold him down and continue anyway and that – that was intolerable. The idea of it – to giving up, to saying stop, and being denied it, was terrifying – excruciatingly terrifying. So Barry clung to that last shred of self-control with every breath, every rasping gasp and clenched bite, until Caitlin was finally, mercifully done.
"That's it. That's the last one," Caitlin said. She wiped down on Barry's back and he had a split second to think "no" before the burning pain of the disinfectant ripped through his shoulder. He arched and yelled around the item between his teeth, but then Caitlin's hands were gentle on him again, wiping up the wound, pressing bandages over it.
"I know, I'm sorry, Barry. It's done now. All done. I'm wrapping it up."
The relief was incredible. Cisco's hands were gone and Barry slowly tried to sit up. Everything spun and he had to stop, going lightheaded.
"Easy," Caitlin said, "It's alright." She helped him sit up and finished bandaging over the incision. She had a small cloth and dabbed at his forehead, wiping away sweat. He flinched away at first, but then let her. He felt gross, and undeniably sticky. Besides the sweat there was still blood in spots smeared over him. His head spun again and that's when he doubled over and puked.
Barry was panting, staring at the floor where he just threw up the calorie bars they had made him eat. The black dots were back, his vision swimming. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't move, just staring at the ground and the mess he had made with the world spinning and his back burning.
"I'll get a mop," Cisco said.
Caitlin had her hand on his back. "I'm so sorry," she said, "It's over though. You did great, Barry. You did really good."
And Barry was shaking and staring and it was too much, all too much and his careful control, that grip he had on himself, that he had to hold onto so tightly during the procedure, was suddenly crumbling and he was trembling and trembling and his mouth was shrinking back, his face contorting and his eyes burned and no no no no no.
He hid his face in his hands, fingers clawing at his hair as tears slid from his eyes, despite his furious blinking. He couldn't stop and he couldn't breathe, because if he did his throat was going to make that pathetic, terrible rasping noise and he had made it so far, had made it through the entire thing, through all the pain without crying and why, why did his body have to betray him now, why did it decide now was a good time to break to pieces? He didn't understand it, and the frustration with himself only turned into more tears, only served to make it worse and he couldn't stop because it was too much, it was all too much and he was exhausted and it hurt, it still hurt and he just wanted the pain to stop already. He just wanted it to end and stop, he wanted everything to stop.
"Barry," Caitlin said. She leaned closer to him, had her hand on his arm now, because no matter how hard he tried, he was deteriorating to sobs and it was humiliating and exhausting and his hands really didn't make a very good hiding place.
"Barry," Caitlin said again, "Hey, what's going on? What's wrong?" She put her hands on his knees and tilted her head. She reached up and moved one of his hands away. Barry stared at the ground, wiping at his face and still trying to stop. "Hey," she said again, "It's alright. It's all over."
Barry nodded, taking in a shuddering breath. He repeated it in his head. It was over, done. It wasn't working.
"I know it still hurts," Caitlin said, "But it'll stop now. Soon, I promise. You're alright, Barry."
"It –" Barry tried. He stopped before he gave his voice a chance to crack.
"I know," she said, "it was a lot – too much. You did really good, Barry. It was hard, too hard. You shouldn't have had to do that."
"I – I just –" Too late. His voice did crack this time. His face flushed even more and he was bright red, embarrassed and humiliated and feeling like he really just wanted to crawl under a rock – actually he just wanted a nice place where he could completely break down and not worry about it. He didn't know why this was happening – it was over, it was supposed to be fine now, he was supposed to be fine now. But the stress had built up and now it was exploding, and he couldn't do anything to stop it.
"It's OK," she said, wiping back his hair, "it's OK."
It took him a while to calm down. When he did Caitlin had him move back to a bed, where he could lie down. And maybe Cisco had walked in, seen the scene in front of him, and promptly walked back out because he came back an awfully long time later with that mop. He cleaned it up and Barry had his eyes shut, and somehow Caitlin's hand had ended up in his hair and he really, really hoped she wouldn't move it. He was just starting to fall asleep when Caitlin called his name.
"Barry," she said, "I need you to eat something."
Barry groaned.
"I know," she said, "But you have to get something in you."
"Later."
"Just a few bites, then you can sleep," she said. Something pressed against his mouth.
Barry turned away, refusing to take it. Caitlin sighed and shook his arm, which made him grumble, but she got him to sit up a little bit and managed to coax him into eating a few bites of the calorie bar, and to drink some water after she threatened an IV line if he didn't. He grumbled and ate and stared daggers at her. She was not fazed. He finally was able to lean back again, his eyes closing and there was that hand in his hair again and his shoulder hurt but not so bad and then he was sinking into a comforting blackness.
Erm, two more chapters. Probably. Maybe. Maybe three. Idk I keep coming up with more stuff. Thanks for reading! :)
