The Count of Monte Cristo
Barry knew he had the water on way too hot, but he didn't care. He didn't even care that it was scalding his skin. Anything was better than cold water. Whenever the water started to feel even a little bit cold to him, Barry would reluctantly leave the shower. He felt safer here somehow. The warm water falling down on him was like a security blanket covering him, protecting him from the horrors of the outside world.
The thoughts didn't completely go away here, though. They never fully went away. The memories haunted him every moment of every day, and even the comfort of a hot shower couldn't make him forget. In fact, they were more prominent here. He could scrub and scrub, but he could never simply wash away everything that had happened—everything that had been done to him. There was no undoing this. There was only trying to move on.
Moving on was easier said than done, though. It was a simple concept. Move on. It was as simple as that. Just get over it. Move on. Try telling that to someone who had been gruesomely tortured for nine weeks, though. It wasn't that simple. He could still feel their touch, could feel the sting of a scalpel on his skin. He could feel their hands on him, and he could still hear their remorseless voices. Sometimes the voices sounded so clear and loud inside his head, he thought they were actually there. They sounded so real sometimes.
"Stop fighting. You're only making this worse for yourself."
Barry froze, his eyes snapping open as he stood still in the shower. It wasn't real. The voice was in his head like always. Still, it had sounded so close, though…
"Hold his head still. I want to get this done so we can move on to our radiation experiments."
Barry looked around and even pulled the shower curtain back to look around the room. He was alone. There wasn't anyone there. He knew that. But he could hear them. It wasn't like it was in his head. He could hear them clear as day as if they were there in the room with him. He forced himself to take a deep breath. It wasn't real. It was just the voices. He had heard them before. He knew they were just in his head. All he had to do was ignore them. They would go away if he just ignored them. The scientists weren't here, and they couldn't hurt him now unless he let them.
"Hey, man," Cisco's voice called into the room, causing him to jump slightly, "Still doing okay?"
Barry struggled just to get enough air into his lungs to answer.
"Fine," he managed to say, hoping his voice didn't sound too strained or shaky.
It was all he could get out. One word. He hoped it would be enough to placate Cisco. Joe and Iris were trickier. They knew him too well by now. They knew one word answers were never a good sign, coming from him. Cisco didn't.
Barry was relieved when Cisco left the room. He felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack, and he didn't want Cisco to see that. Joe and Iris had witnessed quite a few of them already during the night when he had his nightmares, but he hadn't had another one during the day since that time at STAR Labs.
But he wasn't going to have a panic attack now. He could handle this. He could reason with himself, tell himself that it wasn't real. They were just voices. They couldn't hurt him. He knew that.
"Can I get a gag for him? I need to concentrate so I don't nick an artery."
Barry took another deep breath and did his best to ignore it. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. He was safe. He was alone now, and he was safe. He took several deep breaths to keep himself calm.
That all went to hell, though, when he suddenly felt someone touch his arm. Barry jerked away from the touch and spun around, but there was still no one there. He had imagined it. No one had touched him. He was fine. Barry gasped and spun again when he felt something or someone suddenly painfully grip his shoulder. Terrified, Barry pressed his back against the wall of the shower, his eyes darting around as he tried to get a grip on himself.
He was losing his damn mind.
He considered calling out to Cisco for help, but what would he tell him? Cisco would think he was crazy. Maybe he was crazy. Barry's eyes burned with tears as he stood there in the shower, ignoring the water falling on him as he tried to slow his breathing. It was to no avail, though. He was already hyperventilating.
Barry sucked in a strangled breath of air when he suddenly felt a sharp pain slice through his arm. He held it up to look at it, and his eyes grew wide when he saw the large cut that had been made on his forearm. As he stared in horror at the blood starting to flow from the fresh wound, he gasped again when he felt another slice of pain. More cuts appeared near the first one, and Barry's panicked tears started to brim over as he looked at the blood now running down his arm.
He let out a muffled cry when he felt the same pain on his other arm, and he stared at both of his blood covered arms in horror. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. But it was. This wasn't just voices. He could feel this. He could feel the actual pain from the wounds opening up all over his body now. So many cuts. So many hands on him, hurting him, cutting him, violating him. In a panic, Barry tried to get away from the contact, his foot slipping out from under him in the process. The next thing he knew, the shower floor was coming up to meet him.
When Cisco heard the loud thud from upstairs, he froze.
"Barry," he breathed to himself, and he was halfway up the stairs before he even realized he was moving.
When he reached the second floor landing, he could already hear the terrible screams coming from the bathroom. When Cisco threw the door open and entered, the screams seemed twice as loud, echoing around the small room.
Upon yanking back the shower curtain, Cisco faced what was probably the most pitiful sight he'd ever seen in his life. Barry was lying naked on the wet floor of the tub, his legs sliding out from under him and his arms thrashing as he screamed and fought desperately to get back up and water continued to fall down on him.
"Barry!" Cisco said, quickly turning off the water and kneeling down next to the tub, "Barry, it's alright!"
Barry looked at him, and for a moment Cisco thought it was going to be okay, but then he saw the pure terror in Barry's eyes, and Barry gasped in pain, letting out another scream.
Cisco's presence seemed to only frighten him further.
"Please don't!" Barry yelled, "Don't hurt me! Please stop cutting me!"
Cisco's heart sank.
"I'm not cutting you, Barry!" he said hurriedly, "I'm trying to help you!"
Barry swung out at him from where he laid, but Cisco easily avoided it. It served as a reminder, though, for him to keep his distance. Cisco cringed as he took in the situation. Barry was naked, soaking wet and now shivering, laying on a hard, cold surface. It couldn't have been more like the table. All that was really missing were the restraints.
Barry let out another cry of pain and tried to curl into himself as he laid on his side on the floor of the shower. Cisco grabbed the nearest towel and did his best to cover Barry's naked body.
"STOP!" Barry screamed so loudly it made Cisco's ears hurt, "Stop touching me!"
"I was just covering you, Barry," Cisco said frantically, "I won't touch you again, okay? I promise."
"That's too deep!" Barry cried hysterically, "That's too deep! You're cutting too deep! Please!"
"No one's cutting you, man," Cisco tried to tell him, but Barry seemed to be completely lost in his own world.
Whatever he thought was happening, it was completely real to him.
"Barry, it's me," he said soothingly, "It's Cisco."
Barry's screaming seemed to finally die out as he continued to gasp in pain. His entire body was trembling and tears were running down his face. Barry was trying to curl up tighter into himself, as if he was trying to make himself as small as possible. His breathing was out of control, and he continued to whimper in his panic.
"Barry, look at me," Cisco urged, "Look. It's just me. It's Cisco."
"Cisco," Barry whispered, a tear running down his face as he looked at the other man, "Cisco, help me. Help me."
"I've got you, man," Cisco assured him, "You're safe now. It's okay."
"They're cutting me," Barry tried to tell him in a shaky voice, "They're cutting into me, Cisco."
"No, they're not, Barry," Cisco told him, "Not anymore. Not ever again. They can't hurt you now."
Barry let out a sob and held out his arms to show Cisco.
"I'm bleeding," he cried, "There's so much blood. So much blood…so much blood."
For a terrible moment of dread, Cisco was worried that maybe Barry had hurt himself, but he didn't see any signs of injury on the frightened man.
"Barry, there's no blood," Cisco said gently, "There's no blood. Everything is fine. You just fell. You're going to be alright."
"I'm covered in it," Barry sobbed, running his hands over his arms, "I'm covered in blood."
"It's just water, Barry," Cisco said, reaching for another towel, "Come on. I'll help you dry off."
Barry flinched away from him when he reached out with the towel. His breathing was still out of control. Barry was full-on hyperventilating now.
"Can you sit up, Barry?" Cisco asked, "I think it would help if you sat up. Here, let me help you."
Barry squeezed his eyes shut but then nodded. With a gentle hand from Cisco, Barry was able to get into a sitting position, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms protectively around them as he tried to get his breathing under control.
"Better?" Cisco asked.
Barry nodded slightly, but his hands were still shaking. Still, his eyes looked a little clearer now. He had his back to the wall of the shower, his hands clinging desperately to the towel draping him.
"Please don't tell everyone else about this," Barry said after a moment, as he started to come back to his senses.
"Barry, I…"
"Please," Barry said, "I don't want everyone to think I'm crazy."
"We know you're not, man," Cisco told him.
Barry hung his head down, resting his forehead on his knees.
"Do you still see it?" Cisco asked him quietly after a moment, "The blood? Do you still see it?"
Barry lifted his head and looked down at his arms and legs before looking back to Cisco with watery eyes. He nodded.
"I can feel it, too," he said wearily, "I can feel the cuts. It all seems so real."
"You understand that you're hallucinating, though, right Barry?" Cisco said gently, "You know that it's not real? That there's not really any blood?"
A small sob escaped Barry's lips as he nodded and looked down again.
"I'm losing my damn mind," he cried.
"No, Bar," Cisco said soothingly, "Caitlin told us to expect this. The flashbacks are a normal reaction to everything that happened to you. It's just your brain trying to work through everything. It doesn't make you crazy."
"Why would my brain do that to me?" Barry asked quietly, "Why would it make me relive all of this? I just want it to be over. I want to move on."
"I know, Barry," Cisco said, "I know."
"What's wrong with me?" Barry cried.
"Nothing's wrong with you," Cisco said in a comforting voice, "You've been through a lot, Barry."
"Please don't let me go crazy, Cisco," Barry cried, "Please don't give up on me."
"Never, Barry," Cisco choked, tears forming in his eyes, "Never."
When Iris got home from STAR Labs, she didn't know what to do. A part of her didn't even want to see Barry after what she had seen on the videos. It was too much, and she had only seen a few of them. There were still hundreds more that she hadn't watched. She doubted she would ever look at Barry the same way again, and that killed her. A stronger part of her wanted to go see him right away, wanted to hug him and cuddle him, to wrap her arms around him and protect him from all the evils in this world. That is, if she thought a hug would help him. It probably wouldn't.
When she finally made her way up the stairs, Iris entered Barry's room to find Cisco in there, sitting in a chair next to the bed while Barry slept.
"Hey," Iris said to Cisco as she walked further into the room to stand next to Barry's bed.
Then she saw the tear tracks dried onto Barry's face. She looked questioningly at Cisco.
"He's exhausted," Cisco told her, "He had a panic attack an hour ago, and he's completely worn out by it."
"Did he have another nightmare?" she asked him, staring at Barry's face.
"No," Cisco said quietly, "He was awake when it came on. He was in the shower."
Cisco sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.
"He didn't want me to tell you guys this, but you should know," he said seriously, "He had another flashback. He was hallucinating that he was back in the lab again."
Iris let out a shaky sigh as she looked away from Cisco and back to Barry's broken face.
"What triggered it this time?" she asked, thinking about the incident at STAR Labs when Caitlin had tried to draw blood from Barry.
"Nothing," Cisco answered quietly, "At least, I think it was nothing. There wasn't anything different that happened to cause it. It just sort of happened. Out of the blue, he just started hallucinating."
"It just happened?" she asked worriedly, "For no reason? It just happened?"
Cisco nodded.
"Barry's pretty freaked out by it. He's convinced he's losing his mind. He's scared."
"With good reason," Iris muttered, thinking of the videos.
She couldn't imagine having to relive all of that, both in his dreams every night and now even in his waking hours. If she were Barry, she'd be terrified and confused, too.
"He's not going to want to talk about it," Cisco told her seriously, "When he wakes up, he's not going to want to talk."
"I know," she said sadly.
Iris understood now. She understood why Barry wouldn't want to talk about it. How could someone even begin to talk about the things he had been through? Iris felt a weight of guilt in her chest when she thought about all the pressing she had done. She had thought she was being gentle about it, but now she realized just how much pressure she had been putting on Barry to talk about his experience. She felt terrible for it.
She knew what she had to do now. She had to give him time and space. All any of them could really do is wait and hope and be there for him. As frustrating as it was to not be able to do more, they knew that's what would be best for Barry, and he would eventually start to work his way back to them. He would eventually start to try again.
That moment didn't come until another week later. Iris was just thinking that maybe she should go upstairs to check on Barry soon when she walked into the kitchen to find him sitting at the kitchen table.
"Barry," she said in surprise.
He looked up at her with a blank expression.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, surprised that he was sitting in here, his usual glass of water sitting in front of him.
He rarely ever came downstairs, even for meals. He usually never left his room. He shook his head in response to her question.
"Can I get you anything?" she persisted, trying to figure out why he was sitting in here.
"Could you—?" he started but seemed at a loss for words.
He sighed once before speaking in a small voice.
"Could you please get me a pen and paper? I—I think I'm ready to try again."
Iris stared at him in shock for a moment but recovered quickly, smiling widely at him.
"Sure, Barry," she said softly.
As she went to grab him a pen and paper, Iris couldn't stop smiling to herself. She was trying to stay calm and not make a big deal out of it, but it was a big step for him. He was going to start making an effort to recover again. It was a sign that Barry might actually start to hope again, and that was a very big deal for him after the last few weeks of hopelessness he had been through after his almost-suicide attempt. He was starting to come back again.
"Don't worry," Barry said quietly when she set the paper in front of him, "I won't run away this time. I'm done running away."
Iris smiled proudly at him, and although Barry didn't quite smile back, she thought she maybe saw a slight twitch at the corners of his mouth.
Over time, everyone started to notice small improvements with Barry. He didn't spend as much time in his room. He joined them for meals again, and he even started to participate in their conversations. Usually it was just a word or two every now and again, but it was better than silence.
Barry definitely still hadn't gotten over his aversion to being touched. He still flinched any time anyone accidentally made contact with him, but he didn't lean away as much when they got close to him, which was something. He seemed to finally be getting used to their presence around him, and he was slowly starting to trust them not to hurt him.
He didn't hallucinate again, at least not during the day. He still had his nightmares almost every night, but he didn't have any more breaks with reality during his waking hours. At least, not that any of them could see. His panic attacks went back to only happening at night, at least for now. They still hadn't quite figured out what had triggered his flashback when he was in the shower, and for that reason, they were all scared it could happen again at any moment, but at least for now, Barry seemed to be mentally stable.
"Hey, Bar," Joe said, entering his bedroom.
Barry was sitting at his desk, reading a book. He seemed to be reading a lot now days. TV didn't really do it for him, and he seemed to be relying on books to distract himself now. He said they occupied his mind more. Joe and Iris knew Barry was using books as an avoidance mechanism, but they felt better seeing him sitting in his room reading than they did when he was just lying in bed staring at the wall. This was definitely a step up from that.
"What are you reading this time?" Joe asked in amusement.
Barry closed the book and silently handed it to Joe, who looked down at the cover. The Count of Monte Cristo. Barry's favorite. The book was huge and the spine of it was completely worn down from how many times he had read it.
"Again?" Joe asked incredulously, "You really like this one, don't you?"
Barry nodded.
"I read it back in high school," he said quietly, "But I didn't fully understand it until now."
"I don't know how you understand this at all," Joe said in an astonished voice.
The book had been written in the 1800s by some French author, and as Joe flipped through the pages, he hardly understood a single paragraph. The book seemed a bit dry if you asked him.
"What's it about?"
Barry hesitated as he thought about it.
"Second chances," he said quietly after a moment.
Joe contemplated his vague answer for a moment before nodding and handing the book back to Barry.
"Dinner will be here soon," he said with a small smile, "I ordered in. Pizza."
Barry nodded and the corners of his mouth turned up a bit.
"Pizzas?" he asked, emphasizing the pluralization of the word.
Joe laughed.
"Yep," he answered, "Pepperoni, olives, and jalapenos. Just the way you like it."
"Thanks, Joe," Barry said warmly.
Joe smiled at him and then made to leave the room. When he turned back to the doorway to look at Barry, it was to see that he had already reopened the book, intently flipping through the pages to pick up where he had left off.