Long one this time! So, kind of new stuff in this one - you'll have to tell me what you think of it, if i should do more or leave it - but anyway, WARNING: language - i'm not upping it to M because it's only once (and id really think language is a reason for M anyway but i like to be safe) but YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED - enjoy :)

Barry was stretching the next day in the lab. Every time he tried to stop and walk to the treadmill Caitlin would yell and point and he was stretching again. He wouldn't have minded so much if it didn't hurt to move. Wells didn't want to skip a day on the treadmill when he was making such good progress, and Caitlin said it would be good for him as long as they started out slow. He figured he would have been fine by now but the pain was still lingering. Caitlin said it was to be expected, with how the infection and the frostbite over burns had put such a strain on his systems.

It was a strange feeling because he didn't really get sore anymore. His muscles recuperated too quickly. He had bruises, sure, but the ache of sore muscles was never really there, maybe every once in a while after some long training, but it was gone by morning. He couldn't say he exactly missed the feeling.

When Caitlin finally let him on the treadmill he was surprised by how quickly he tired, how no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get up to his top speeds. Cisco kept pushing for faster and Barry had to jump off the treadmill to avoid sliding right off, unable to keep up. He started getting frustrated with himself, pushing and pushing until Cisco was slowing the treadmill down to normal speeds. Barry looked up, only then realizing he was sweating and panting and a little light headed.

"Your vitals dropped," Caitlin said through the mic, "I think that's enough for today."

Barry frowned but he nodded, still a little frustrated, but suddenly happy to be done, tired. He walked back out to the main room and Caitlin wanted another blood sample and to look at the wound on his back and make sure everything was healed the way it was supposed to. She didn't make any distressing comments so Barry figured everything looked good.

When Cisco and Wells had left she finished detaching the monitors and then turned back to him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he said, "tired."

"The blood test was alright?" she asked hesitantly.

"Oh – yeah, it was fine. I'm fine."

"OK, good," Caitlin said, letting out a breath. At the same time Barry caught her arm. She frowned and looked while he turned it over, revealing purple-grey bruises along the inside.

"The explosion," she said.

"Right."

Caitlin smiled at him. "It's just a bruise, Barry, need I remind you about the extensive burns and frostbite you had."

"I heal," he said.

"So do I."

LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Barry woke up to his phone. His phone ringing loudly.

"Hello?"

"Dude, fifth avenue at the intersection with New street – we've got a meta who's got some sort of water power – he's breaking into Johnson Developments."

"Ugh," Barry said. He looked at the clock. So much for getting some rest, finally. "Be right there," he said.

A minute later and he was at the crime scene, watching as a man seemed to make icicles appear out of thin air, crystalizing all the water around him. He was steadily making his way towards the guards, who had open fired on him. Patches of ice materialized and the bullets him them instead, sending the bullet to the ground and the ice shattering. The man raised his hand, one of the icicles moving as he pointed it, and then unclenched his fist.

Barry had just enough time to speed over to the guard and grab him before the ice spear went straight through his throat. The man looked in confusion, until his eyes trained on Barry.

"Hey, how about we not impale people with icicles," Barry said.

The man's eyes were a crystal blue, his veins seeming to pop out from his skin and running a deep, almost navy blue color.

Barry saw his arm raise again, the smile quickly slid down his face, and then there was ice hurtling towards him.

He ran around, grabbed the other guard, and deposited him a safe distance away. "Guys," he said, "what do I do here?"

"Um, tie him up?" Cisco said.

"If you dry out the air, it should render him incapable of using his abilities," Wells said.

"Got it," Barry said. He sped back.

Barry ran in circles around the man, faster and faster, until he was sucking the air right out of the space. He saw the man falter, stop, and then Barry found himself running into a wall of water.

Water, not ice. At first, he was thankful, the water being much more forgiving than ice would have been, and then he realized that the water wasn't going anywhere.

Barry jumped to the side, tried to run, and the water was around his head, in a circle, covering his mouth and nose. He couldn't breathe, and if he couldn't breathe he couldn't run because he used too much oxygen. He pushed at the water with his hands, but it just melted around him, reformed. The man was laughing now. Barry fell to one knee, and then with all the energy he had left, dashed to the other side of the room.

Barry kneeled there, gasping, the water finally gone. The man had turned around again, facing him.

In the background, Barry heard sirens. The police were getting there.

The man was ignoring him though, going across the space where the guards had been stationed, quickly breaking the lock on a door. He went in, and reappeared a moment later. There was something in his hand, but Barry didn't catch what.

By then Barry was back on his feet, running back again. This time he was careful. The man shot ice daggers, made walls of water, made the moisture in the air and the water running in a fountain nearby his weapons. Barry kept trying to suck the air out again, to make a vortex like he had before, but the man kept surrounding himself with water and ice. Barry couldn't get around it all while still keeping his circle around him. He had finally had enough and was trying to get in a few shots at the guy. A couple of ice shatters hit him and he hissed. Freaking ice. Freaking cold. Really? Another one? He brought his fist back for a punch, but when he was just about to land it on the man, he struck ice instead. Barry screamed. He knew at least one finger was broken. He tried again, this time with a kick, getting behind him, going around him, but the ice turned up in every spot, almost like it was automatic, like the man wasn't even controlling it. Barry was just about to go in for another attempt at a punch, zooming around to the other side, when he saw a flash of opaque blue.

Pain exploded in his arm and Barry fell, rolled. He hadn't seen it until it was already slicing through his arm, an icicle, sticking straight out, right where he could run straight into it. He hadn't seen it, hadn't noticed it until the pain hit him. Barry was yelling, biting down, and he was gripping his shoulder and the man was walking away. Barry saw the police coming and he saw the man walking straight past them, bullets hitting those patches of ice. And then Barry looked at his arm.

Oh, God, Barry thought. Shit. Shit, this was bad. There was blood practically pouring out of his arm, around his fingers, down his suit. It was gushing. It was gushing out of him. Barry felt his body go cold, and the pain was tearing through him, but it was numbed by the panic, by how much he wanted to throw up. His vision got shaky, and he had to force himself to focus. He was not going to pass out at the sight of blood. Granted, it was his blood, and damn it, it was gushing out of him, but he was not going to pass out.

"Barry?" The mic was mixed with static. "Barry, get back here right now, your vitals are dropping like crazy. Can you hear me? Barry?"

And then Barry was at Star labs, clutching his arm and spinning.

"Holy, Jesus Christ!" Cisco said. His eyes seemed to have expanded to be twice as large and his face had paled immediately.

"I need a bed – now!" Caitlin said. She was on him in a second, and although she was obviously shocked and distressed, she contained it better than Cisco, or maybe she was just focusing everything on the blood that Barry was rapidly losing.

"Cait –" Barry said. Caitlin was grabbing him, pulling him over to a bed. He felt himself sitting down, but he wasn't sure what was really happening. All Barry knew was his arm hurt like hell and there was so much blood and it was his.

"Antiseptic and sutures, right now," Caitlin said. Wells came up behind her and Cisco was dashing around, putting everything on the tray next to her. Barry felt fingers on his arm, and oh God, that hurt.

"Cait –" he said again. There was an edge of panic to his voice.

"Lean back," Caitlin said. She was holding a towel hard to his arm and there was blood on her hands and Barry did what he was told, leaning back on the bed and shivering and he was cold.

Caitlin flashed a look at Cisco and then turned back to Barry. "Barry," she said, "this is going to hurt. Hold tight for me."

Barry didn't really have time to process it and then his arm was on fire, burning like it was doused in gasoline. He arched up and screamed, and hands came down on his shoulders, on his arms, even as he tried to thrash. He was breathing hard, way too hard, and his whole body was trembling, tingling with the pain and the shock of it.

"OK, that's done, Barry, that part's all done."

But then Barry looked over and he saw the needle and all he could think was fuck no.

"Barry, easy, hey," Caitlin said as he bolted upward, struggling to sit up.

"No," he said, "Caitlin, no – no."

"I have to, Barry," Caitlin said, "lie back, you need to do this."

"No," he said, "Caitlin, don't – don't!"

He was struggling and Cisco was pushing him down and now Wells had a vice like grip on his arm, holding it steady. Barry could see Caitlin with the needle and no, he couldn't do this, he couldn't do this again, he needed it to stop, he needed it to stop right now.

He felt the needle slide through his skin and he screamed, and then he was back on that table and he had to keep still, he had to keep still and it hurt too much but he had to stay in control and now he was not in control and it was every bit as absolutely unbearable and intolerable and excruciatingly terrifying as he thought it would be.

"Shhh, shhh, it's alright Barry, it's alright," Caitlin said, but she was making another stitch and the pain was awful and Barry couldn't do this.

"You have to stop," he said. His voice was cracking all over the place, breaking and splitting apart, "Please, Caitlin, stop. Stop, it hurts – it hurts!" His voice broke off into a cry as she pushed the needle through his skin.

Caitlin's stomach tightened into a knot and she had to look at the wound, at the skin, at the blood, at all the blood. It didn't make her sick, it grounded her, gave her a reason, and she needed a damn good reason to be putting Barry through this.

The blood was starting to clot, it wasn't pushing out so rapidly anymore. The fact that he wasn't unconscious meant his body was regenerating blood cells at a rate that would make the blood loss much less severe than it appeared to be. Caitlin kept going, and it was taking all of her self-control and if she thought listening to Barry's broken cries of pain before had been bad she had never considered him begging her to stop.

"Just a couple more," Caitlin said. She swiped a hand over Barry's forehead, pushed the sweaty hair off his face. "It's OK." She put in another stitch and Barry turned his face away, his breathing harsh. "It's not like last time," Caitlin said, "I'm almost done, it's not nearly as large. It's deeper, but it's not as long – it doesn't need as many, I'm almost done." She wasn't sure if Barry was listening anymore but she had to say it, had to say something to try and reassure him.

When she finally got the last stitch in and tied it off she felt like she could breathe again. "All done," she said, her hands going up to his shoulder. She grabbed a wet cloth and started wiping away the blood. "All done with them." Barry didn't say anything. His eyes were pressed so tight it looked like he had to be causing himself more pain, and his teeth were locked in an awful cringe.

Caitlin wiped up the blood, cleaning over the wound as gently as possible. It didn't stop the harsh breaths and little gasps coming from Barry's mouth. She had set bones and popped in shoulders and stabbed him in the chest with a needle and never gotten this bad of a reaction. Hell, she had pried off a melted suit from his skin.

"Barry," Caitlin said, and she dreaded this, "This is going to hurt again, OK? Only for a second, I promise."

And his eyes were open again in an instant, wide with fear, with panic. "Cait – no – please!" His voice escalated and Caitlin wiped the disinfectant over his arm and he screamed and then collapsed back onto the bed, his whole body tense and shaking.

"Done," Caitlin said, and she through the supplies back on the cart, desperate. She had her hands against his arm, his face, his forehead, and he was flinching from her. "It's all done, Barry. It's OK." She wrapped up the wound and cleaned off more blood, wiping it from the materials and the bed as best she could.

"I'm going to go sterilize all this," Wells said quietly, and took the medical equipment from her.

"I'm going to get another bed ready for him," Cisco said, "with less blood. And maybe go puke while I'm at it."

Barry was still breathing hard and shallow, his face tight with pain. He started to fidget, to squirm. He dragged in a breath.

"Barry," Caitlin said, "hey, Barry, it's over."

It took him about five minutes before he opened his eyes again. He looked lost, then he held up his opposite hand.

"Broke my hand," he said. His voice was raw and Caitlin sucked in a breath. More?

She took it gently and he winced. She probed around his fingers, and pushed one into place. He sucked in a breath. "Just two," she said. She got a splint set up, and left them to heal, then she was back at his side.

"You OK?" she asked.

Barry leaned over and puked.

Fortunately, Caitlin had been ready this time with a bucket.

"I'm going to take that as a no," she said.

That almost got her a laugh, and Caitlin relaxed a little bit at that.

"I know it hurts a lot," she said, "But you're going to be OK."

Barry nodded. He was going to be OK. He was still shaking. His arm hurt like hell. He couldn't get the feeling of that needle in his skin out of his head. He couldn't stop the horrible, piercing fear of having been held down against his will while someone pushed needles through his skin, doused him with burning antiseptic. He knew it was Caitlin and Cisco and Wells and he knew it was for his health and he knew he had been injured and in pain and that they had to make the decision for him to keep him alive, but it didn't stop the terror and the feeling of helplessness and lack of control from overwhelming him.

"I never want to do that again," he said.

"For the record, neither do I."

Barry took in another shaky breath. "I want to go home."

"Just let me –"

"No, I want to go home now." His voice wavered again and he couldn't stay here. He felt the panic in his blood, and he needed to go home, to get away from this place.

Caitlin just looked at him. "OK," she said softly. "OK. I'll get my bag, and tell Wells and Cisco."

And Barry just nodded with a surge of relief, trying to hide how close he was to crying just at the knowledge that he'll be able to go home, that they'll let him do that.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

They took Caitlin's car. There was no way in hell Barry was running.

Barry had his head tilting onto the window, staring outside. His expression was flat, eyes vacant. His hands still trembled on and off. Caitlin drove in silence, stealing glances over at Barry. He looked beat, defeated. His hand was swollen with the splint and the white bandages made his shirt fit tight around him and there were a couple small cuts on his face, one under his eye and another on his chin that hadn't disappeared yet.

The window was cold on Barry's forehead but he didn't move it. He was freezing but his face felt hot. He watched the streets go by, the blazing lights in the dark. It helped him calm down a little, the steady rumble of the engine and Caitlin's soft silence, the buildings blurring by. When they reached his apartment he had to force himself up. Caitlin got out alongside him.

"You don't have to come," he said, "I'll be alright on my own."

Caitlin just scoffed and strode on ahead of him. Barry sighed and followed her.

The first thing Barry did when they got inside was collapse on the couch, closing his eyes again. His arm burned a little, complaining at the movement. He touched the bandages through his shirt.

"Don't play with it," Caitlin said, knocking his hand away. She had his comforter in her arms, along with his pillow, and Barry hadn't realized she'd gone past him into his room until then.

She dumped the stuff on top of him and Barry had to wade through the blankets before he could see again.

"You keep shivering," she said, "do you have stuff for hot chocolate?"

Barry nodded and she went off to the kitchen. Barry could hear her tearing it apart.

Barry sank into the blankets and the couch. His body felt cold, wrong. Like the cold you get when you're sick, you're body overheating while you just feel frozen. He pushed himself into the corner, drawing his knees up to his chest and not caring if he looked like a five year old while he did it because the blanket covered all of him anyway.

Caitlin came back with two cups of hot chocolate and Barry took his, grateful.

"Barry," Caitlin said, and as soon as he heard that tone he pushed away from her, muscles tensing, eyes frozen. Caitlin took a deep breath. "There is one more thing I have to do."

Barry felt like he was going to explode, another, another thing? Wasn't that enough for today? Couldn't he catch a break for once?

"It's a tetanus shot," Caitlin said.

"No."

"Barry –"

"No," he said, "no more shots."

"I don't want to have to put you through another round of antibiotics, Barry," Caitlin said, and her face broke, "it's just a tetanus shot – it would be as painful as the antibiotic ones, and it's just one, and it'll hopefully prevent infection before it starts. You had cuts from ice, Barry, and I don't know what that will do to your systems."

Barry had broken out into a cold sweat. He was shrinking in on himself, not saying anything.

But Caitlin stayed, and no amount of shrinking away was going to change the reality of her being there and him needing the stupid shot. Didn't mean he wasn't going to procrastinate like hell.

"Come on, Barry," Caitlin said, "I waited 'till now. We have to get it done."

Barry didn't move and Caitlin sighed. She peeled back the comforter, and reached into her bag for the shot. When she looked up again the blanket was back.

"Barry," Caitlin said.

His face crumpled.

"Do you want to go through another round of antibiotics?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"Then get over here."

Barry played with the edge of the blanket, slowly started to move it down, exposing his arm.

"I need the other one, Barry."

"But that'll hurt," he said, looking at the bandages poking out from under his T-shirt.

"I know, but it'll also help it better."

"Caitlin."

"Come on, Barry."

Barry's heart was pounding. He shifted over a little bit, put the mug of hot chocolate down slowly, but then he looked up, saw the needle, and panicked.

He was standing up, staring. "No – Caitlin, I can't. I'll just – I'll wait and see what happens – do the antibiotics if I have to."

"Barry," Caitlin said, "you're not thinking about this. This will only take a second."

"No," he said, "I'm not doing it, Caitlin. I'll deal with the consequences later." His voice had gone hard, but his heart was still pounding, his breath catching and rasping, and he couldn't move and she was stitching and the needle and the thread and the pain and nonononono–

"Barry," Caitlin said, "hey, it's OK. It's alright."

Barry stared and Caitlin was holding his arms and when did that happen? He was shaking and she was drawing him down, back to the couch.

"It's OK," she said, "It's not the stitches. It's not the antibiotics. It's just a tetanus booster. It's just a regular, normal tetanus shot."

And Barry was nodding and then there was a stab of pain and he couldn't breathe. She was stitching into him, threading needle, sewing up his skin like it was just a tear in a jacket or a shirt.

"Shh," she said, "it's OK. It's done." And it wasn't until then that Barry looked over and saw the shot and realized what had happened. She was not stitching him up, the pain he felt was not a wound, was not skin filled with holes and thread, was just a little shot, one that he had gotten at ten years old and again at twenty and see, he was fine.

"Sorry," he said, finally getting his breathing back to normal. He put his elbows on his knees and hung his head down, trying to grab back to reality. "Sorry – I panicked. I don't know what happened. Sorry."

"Shhh," she said and she was rubbing his back, "it's alright. You don't need to apologize. You were just scared."

Just scared, just scared. Barry's face heated up. Just acting like a five year old in a doctor's office again, just practically running away from a shot.

But he was still shaking and seeing the needles, the thread. He could feel their hands on him, holding him down and Caitlin's voice in the background and screaming, begging them to stop because it hurt and he was scared and Caitlin had gone into Doctor mode and he needed her to just be Caitlin, to just be Caitlin Snow and look at him and rub circles on the back of his hand until he knew it would be alright.

"Hey," Caitlin said, "what's going on?"

Barry wiped a hand over his face and sat back up. "Nothing," he said, "Sorry, I just – I…"

Caitlin reached up and put a hand to his face, cupping the side of it. Her face twisted a little, watching him.

"I just…" he tried again, but he looked down. He didn't know what he was going to say anyway. "Never mind," he mumbled.

"No," she said, "you're thinking something. You're thinking too much."

"I…" he trailed off again. He was shaking and his head was spinning. Everything was spinning. It was too much in too little time and he didn't know how to process everything that had happened. He was exhausted but the idea of sleep made him nauseous and he didn't want to be alone but to have someone there was embarrassing. He needed to talk but didn't know what to say. He was just shaking and silent and a complete mess, a total mess.

Caitlin leaned forward and hugged him. It caught Barry off guard and he was stiff before relaxing. Caitlin's arms were around him and he melted against her, his head on her shoulder and his eyes squeezed shut. She rubbed a hand across his back over and over again and Barry held onto her like he'd fall if he didn't. She didn't say anything, let him sit in silence and know that someone was there, that he wasn't alone. It cleared his head a little bit, the simple fact of human contact grounding him. The spinning thoughts slowed down and he concentrated on there, on now. He could smell her perfume and her sweater was soft and she was still moving circles on his back, soothing. He was wrapped up in the blanket and he wasn't so cold anymore, not shivering. He stopped shaking and the stillness was a relief. He pressed his forehead into her shoulder and he could feel her chin on his and he relaxed.

He finally leaned back again and Caitlin followed. Her expression was questioning and she didn't let go of him, had her hand on his arm like she was afraid she'd lose him again if she let go.

"Hey," she said, "it's OK. It's done."

Barry nodded. His mouth was dry. "It hurt a lot," he said finally.

"I'm so sorry, Barry," Caitlin said and her eyes closed and she was, she was so, so sorry she had to do that to him.

"It's not your fault," he said, "mine for getting my arm cut in half."

She smiled and moved her hand lightly over the bandage. "Don't do it again," she said.

Barry huffed. "Trust me, it is pretty much a top priority now."

She laughed and looked back at him. "How's it feel?"

"Hurts."

"A lot still?"

"A lot." Barry looked down. He could lie, but it was throbbing. A lot better than before, but still very painful.

"It was really deep, it'll take some time to heal."

"How much blood did I lose?"

"Too much."

"It freaked me out."

"Freaked me out too."

"No, you were fine," he said, "I saw you – you still did everything."

"It's harder with someone you care about." And someone who was screaming in pain and begging you to stop.

Barry was quiet for a little bit. "I think we traumatized Cisco."

Caitlin laughed. "There was a lot of blood."

Barry let out a long breath.

Caitlin tilted her head. "How are you feeling, Barry?"

"Not great," he said, grudgingly. He looked at his hands.

"Maybe you should try and sleep."

"I don't think I can," he said quietly.

"I'll stay with you."

"You don't have to do that."

"I thought we already established that I don't care if I have to do it or not."

"Thought I'd give you a way out."

"I don't want a way out."

"You're sure it's not a problem?"

"Positive."

"Alright," Barry said softly. "Is it alright… I don't really fit on the couch. But could you… I'm going to lie down in bed, but, is that OK? I'm making this weird, it shouldn't be weird – it's just I'm tired and I won't be able to sleep and if it's OK – I mean unless that makes you uncomfortable, which would be totally –"

"Barry," Caitlin said, "go get in bed."

"OK," Barry said, his face flushing. He got up, grabbed some clothes from one of the numerous piles in his room, and disappeared into the bathroom. When he came back out Caitlin was wearing one of his pairs of sweatpants and his Star labs sweatshirt.

"I borrowed some clothes," she said, pulling the sweatshirt down. It was significantly large on her.

"That's fine," he said.

"You know, one's I managed to find in an actual drawer."

"I thought we established you're not allowed to make fun of my room," Barry said.

"Toxic waste zone," Caitlin muttered.

Barry went and laid down on one side of the bed, pushing himself under the blankets. Caitlin propped herself up next to him with pillows.

"You really don't have to stay," he said, "I mean, if I fall asleep and you –"

"I have to wake you up in a couple hours to take the stitches out anyway," Caitlin said.

"Oh," Barry said, but he tensed up again. Right the stitches, which were still in him. Which she'd have to take out. Barry felt cold all over again.

"Hey," she said, shaking his shoulder, "It's alright – doesn't hurt, remember? Only takes a minute. You'll feel better after you get some sleep, anyway."

"Yeah, OK," he said. He tried to get comfortable in the bed, close his eyes. Caitlin had shut off the light. He kept fidgeting though. Every time he tried to relax the events of the day came crashing back and he had to open his eyes to reassure himself that he really was back in his apartment, not at Star labs on some med station.

"Relax," Caitlin said, rubbing his shoulder again.

Barry tried to laugh. "Can't really seem to do that."

"Take some deep breaths," Caitlin said.

Barry tried, but it wasn't helping. "Could you…" he started, "could you just… talk to me?"

"About what?"

"Anything."

Caitlin thought for a second. "OK." She launched into a story about her first bio class in college, recounting the professor and the room in terrible detail. It wasn't a terribly interesting story, but Caitlin knew that – she was just talking to fill the silence, and it worked in the end. After a few minutes Barry wasn't listening to what she was saying, just the soothing tone of her voice, and soon his body finally gave in to the exhaustion riddling his bones.

So, icicle dude, good? bad? Please tell me - i have an idea for another metahuman too but haven't decided if it's worth it to bring him in or not, so please let me know if you like the little fight scene/new metahuman things or if i should just stick to the more behind the scenes, recovery, conversation, fluff stuff (id really know what to call it, just the stuff i've already been doing) Thank you all!