Barry was doing really, well… well. It was two weeks after the surgery and his arm felt great. There were no other lasting damages from the accident, his teeth were good again, and he had finally stopped flinching whenever he crossed a road. And he wasn't cutting. He didn't even think about it too much. He was getting through his work fine, there had been no new metahumans, and basically everything was pretty much going good for once.

Couldn't have that, now could we.

No, everything was just going too well, too well for Caitlin to leave it alone, to let him enjoy it.

"It would be really slow."

"I'm not doing it."

"We wouldn't do anything you weren't comfortable with."

"Good, because I'm not comfortable with this."

"Barry."

"I told you no."

"You're not even considering it."

Barry walked out of the room and grabbed his jacket, pulling it on as he entered a different part of the lab.

"Cisco, help me out here," Caitlin said.

Cisco didn't even look up from where he was tinkering with something. "Staying out of it."

"Cisco!"

Cisco put up his hands. "He doesn't want to do it."

"See," Barry said pointedly.

"It won't do anything if he's not on board," Cisco said.

"So you agree desensitization is a good idea," Caitlin pushed.

"Yes," Cisco said.

Caitlin shot Barry a look.

"But not if Barry's not on board," Cisco said quickly.

"I already told you guys," Barry said, directing it at Caitlin, "that I tried that stuff and it doesn't work."

"Oh come on, man, don't compare us to some stuffy old shrink here," Cisco said.

"I'm not doing it," Barry said.

"Barry," Wells said, wheeling into the room, "I think it's a good idea."

Barry sighed, turning to him instead now. "I've tried it. Doesn't work. I don't want to do it."

"I think you should try again."

"It doesn't –"

"If you come up against something and are hurt, and we can't get to you in time, what are you going to do? You have to be able to take care of yourself, and you can't do that when you're terrified of anything sharp," Wells said curtly.

Barry just starred. "Harsh," Cisco mumbled under his breath.

Well's sighed. "It's a weakness," he said, "It's not your fault, and it's very understandable, but you need to address it."

"I've tried," Barry said.

Well's frowned at him. "Not like this. You're already getting better with injections and blood tests."

"That's only because I've had to keep getting them," Barry said.

"Yes, and with more practice, the fear can go away entirely."

"You want me to come in and let you stick me full of needles every day until I'm not afraid anymore?" Barry asked, starting to get angry.

"That is not how we'd –" Caitlin cut in but Wells interrupted her.

"If that's what it takes."

"Well I'm not going to just sit there and let you –"

"Barry, you're getting yourself worked up over nothing."

"Don't tell me what I'm allowed to be upset about."

"I am telling you," Wells said slowly, "that you are letting your fear control your decisions. You need to stop acting like a child and take control of this. Address it."

"This isn't really the same as a simple facing your fears kind of thing," Barry shot back.

"I didn't say it was," Wells said, "It's much more difficult than that. I understand. You still need to do something about it."

"I can't," Barry burst.

"You can't hide behind that phrase every time something gets difficult."

"You expect me to just jump into this even though I've spent my whole life avoiding it."

"No one's asking you to jump into anything, just to try a little desensitization therapy – people do it all the time, Barry."

"You say that like it's so easy."

"It's not easy. You can still do it."

"And what if I don't want to."

"I think you've made it pretty clear you don't want to."

"I'm not doing that."

"Is that your final response, Barry?" Wells asked. There was something in the look in his eye that made Barry hesitate, made him think. "Because in that case I think you'd better rethink this whole superhero thing altogether."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's pretty simple, Barry. If you're not even willing to try this, in order to get better, than maybe you're not ready to do what's necessary to help people."

"That's not the same thing. That's not even close. You're the one that told me I could do this."

"And I still believe you can. I'm just wondering how dedicated you are, that you'd allow this to continue to be a problem."

Barry yelled in frustration. "Fine, OK? Fine, I'll try it. If it doesn't work though I'm not continuing it." And with that he finished pulled on his jacket and left, storming out of the room.

Caitlin turned to Well's afterwards. "You could have been a little nicer," she said.

Well's sighed. He took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. "He's stubborn. I might have gotten a little frustrated." He may have lost his temper, but Barry needed to be able to deal with what was to come, after all, he was his most important achievement.

Barry sat on the chair across from Caitlin, glowering.

"OK," she said, smiling way too wide. Barry looked around. They were in a small room at Star labs, what looked to have been an office space, with bookshelves and a window view and two very comfy chairs. Caitlin said she wanted them to be in a neutral, calming environment.

It wasn't working so great so far.

Barry was tense, looking around, wondering what Caitlin had in that bag of hers. He was suspicious of needles, of what Wells had said. If that's what it takes.

Would she stick him with a shot on their first day?

After his little conversation with Wells he had run home, beat the shit out of a couple pillows, and fumed on his own for a while. Then Caitlin had called and told him to meet her at four the next day. And so he was here.

In the room. With the comfy chairs. And Caitlin. And her bag.

"We're going to start really simple," she said. She pulled out a shot.

Barry nearly flinched, his eyes glued to it. Caitlin pulled it out so easily. She held it up for him to see.

"No needle," she said, touching the place where it would be. She demonstrated, pressing it against her own skin.

Barry calmed down a little bit at that. No needle meant she wouldn't be injecting him with anything, at least not yet.

"I want you to relax," she said, and she moved so she was sitting next to him on the chair. It was large, almost a small couch, with plenty of room for the both of them, "And tell me if you're getting too nervous." She paused to look at him. "This isn't like when you're hurt. If you need a break, need to stop, need to go slower, just tell me. We will. It's up to you."

Barry nodded, taking a deep breath. Caitlin put the shot down in her lap, and started rolling up Barry's sleeve. "I'm going to go through it, just like I would if I were giving you a shot," she said, "except there won't be any needle. I want you to focus on breathing in and out, nice and steady. If at any point you get too anxious, tell me to stop."

Barry fixed his eyes straight ahead, gripping his hands together. He did as she said and breathed in nice and slow. Caitlin rolled up his sleeve. He breathed out, counting to eight. She wiped his arm with antiseptic. The smell alone made his heart start to pound, but he pushed the nervousness away. There was no needle. No shot. She took his arm. His breathing got heavier. Get a grip, he thought, she's not doing anything. The shot's empty. But even though he knew that, his body reacted anyway. There's no needle, he kept repeating to himself, breathing in and out nice and slow.

He felt the plastic come down on his arm and he tensed involuntarily, holding his breath for a second. Then it came away and he could breathe again, and there was no pain and no needle, and he was fine, absolutely fine, and he felt silly and childish for getting scared in the first place.

"That was good, Barry," Caitlin said, "Really good. Can we do it one more time, and this time can you look at me while I do it."
No, was his immediate reaction, but that was dumb, there wasn't any needle, it was fine, so he swallowed hard and nodded, looking over.

Caitlin took the shot, no not the shot, just the plastic – plastic case – and brought it to his arm and Barry let out a long, deep breath, his muscles tensing. It hit his arm but he kept breathing, focusing on letting the air out in a controlled, steady fashion, and she took the shot away again. He was fine, perfectly fine. A small swarm of relief came over him. He was OK. There was no needle. He could do this.

They went through that a couple more times, on his arm, on his leg, his side, and then Caitlin had him hold it, showed him how to press it down against his skin. She had him do it on her arm first, then against his own. And somehow instead of being worse that made it less scary, when he could control it, and he was actually staring to think this wasn't so bad, not really that bad at all, when she took the shot back from him and took out another one instead.

This one had a needle. Of course it did.

Barry broke out sweating, his whole demeanor changing at once.

"Whoa," Caitlin said, "Easy. It's OK. Nice and slow, remember."

"I can't do that yet," Barry said, "It's one thing with no needle, but right – right away with the actual shot – I mean I know I've done it before but you said to tell you if I was too nervous and I'm too nervous to do that – I can't –"

"Barry, I'm not injecting you with anything," she said, "I wasn't even going to inject you at all today. I just want you to get used to seeing it."

"Oh," Barry said, "Oh… O-OK."

Caitlin smiled and took his hand. "Relax Barry. Go back to your deep breathing. I'm just going to hold it here. I want you to look at it, and focus on staying calm."

That wasn't so hard. He could look at it. Sure, it didn't make him feel good, and he didn't really want to be there, but he could do it.

"I'm going to move it closer to you, alright, Barry?"

Barry nodded.

She held the shot so that the needle was near his leg. Barry's stomach churned and he focused on breathing nice and even. After a minute she moved it closer, so it was almost touching. He was wearing jeans, so it wasn't like it was right on him, but it was starting to get to him. After a little bit he got used to that too, though. He trusted Caitlin.

"Alright," Caitlin said, "I'm going to move it to your arm instead."

The needle moved up to his exposed bicep. He turned his head and stopped looking at it.

"Keep breathing," she said, "I've got it. I won't touch you."

I trust Caitlin, he thought again. She said she wouldn't touch him, so she wouldn't. It was fine. It was just close to him.

"Barry, if it's alright," she said, "I'm going to put it against your arm now. I won't inject you, or even prick you, just put the edge of it against your skin."

"No," he said automatically.

"OK," she said, "I won't if you don't want me to, but could we try?"

Barry clenched his teeth. His skin was crawling. "Would it be better?" she asked "If you held it against your skin?"

Barry nodded. He could do that. He could hold it. It was fine. He wouldn't get the shot, he would just hold it. He could do that.

Caitlin handed it to him, and he lowered the shot carefully to his wrist. He put the flat edge of the needle against his skin. It was cold, but he barely felt it. He breathed in, breathed out. It unsettled his stomach and made his skin crawl but he was OK, anxious but not panicking. And even that slowly started to fade.

"Alright," Caitlin said, taking it back from him. She was smiling wide. "That's good for today. You did great, Barry."

He just nodded. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

LLLLLLIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEE

It was the annual blood drive at Central city's police station.

Usually, Barry made a point of being sick on said day, but amid a crazy new metahuman and a ton of paperwork, he had forgotten, and now he was stuck upstairs in his lab, praying to God no one remembered him up there and asked him to go down.

It wasn't like they could force him to participate, but it was kind of expected that everyone did. The captain wouldn't say anything to him, and Joe wouldn't of course, but he'd gotten a few snide comments when people started realizing his mysterious absence every time they did a blood drive.

Barry wanted to help, he really did. He even tried to steel himself to go last year, but had ducked out at the last second. Now he couldn't though. His blood was different, supercharged by the particle accelerator.

Not to mention there was no way in hell he was sitting with a needle in his arm for that long. His sessions with Caitlin had only just started.

It was all going fine until he decided to sneak down for lunch. He was just almost to the door when a hand came down on his shoulder, and that's when he knew he was in trouble.

"Allen, you been down to see the truck yet? I just got finished, see." Jim extended his arm, showing a cotton bandage over the inside of his elbow, taped in place.

Barry smiled nervously. "I was just going to grab some lunch, actually."

"Oh, you can spare five minutes, can't you?" Jim said, and then somehow Barry was walking outside and over to where the truck was parked and set up, looking desperately for a way out.

"Uh, I really gotta get back," Barry said, "I'm just swamped right now – I mean with the Rockefeller case and –"

"Boss'll cut you some slack – helping the injured, that's a little more important than a fraud case."

"Uh, look, Jim," Barry said, coming up to the truck at an alarming rate. He could see the nurses around, the equipment set up. "I've got a medical condition – I can't have blood taken."

That's when Jim stopped, turning to him. He had to be in his mid-thirties and never really grew out of that school yard bully mentality, or the complex that told him he had a right and a duty to deal it out. "It's just a needle, Allen, we do it every year – you might just be in forensics and the son of a field agent but that doesn't mean you can just skip it because you don't want a little needle prick."

"It's not that," Barry said hastily, "I really can't have it taken –"

"As I recall that wasn't exactly the case last year, now was it?"

Barry was starting to sweat. "I can't –"

"Allen!" a voice called across the street. They both turned around to see Eddie at the door to the station, holding it open. "Captain needs you. Now." Eddie waved him over. Barry took one look at Jim, shrugged, and practically ran back to the door, where Eddie was still waiting for him.

"What does the captain want?" Barry asked, following Eddie quickly inside.

"Nothing," he said, holding the door again, looking back to where Jim was heading down the street, "just thought you could use some help there."

"Thanks," Barry said, the realization hitting him. He was quiet as they walked back in.

"I grabbed you a burger by the way," Eddie said, tossing it to him. He walked up to the lab with him and they went inside. Barry mumbled another thanks, unwrapping it, but he didn't feel so hungry anymore. Jim's words kept sticking in his head.

helping the injured

wasn't exactly the case last year

doesn't mean you can just skip it because you don't want a little needle prick

"Hey," Eddie said, "what's going on?" He frowned and nodded at the untouched burger on Barry's desk.

Barry snapped out of it. He pushed the burger away and looked at another case file. "Nothing, just, not that hungry I guess."

"I've seen you eat five of those," Eddie said, "is it that guy Jim?"

"No, no it's fine," Barry said.

"Good, because Jim's an asshole," Eddie said.

There was silence for a moment. Right as Eddie was about to go back downstairs Barry spoke without lifting his head. "I'm the only one that doesn't do the blood drive."

"Is that what the guy said?"

"Doesn't matter. It's true."

"You've got a condition, Barry, it's –"

"In my head," he said, tapping his pencil against the stack of papers, "it's stupid."

"It's not stupid when it's severe."

"It's silly."

"You want to say that again with a razor blade in your hand?"

Barry's head shot up.

"Yeah," Eddie said. He took another bite of the burger. "if it's that bad," he swallowed, "then you've got every right to put yourself first every once in a while."

Eddie leaned back from the desk he was leaning against and started to head out the door.

"Thanks, Eddie," Barry said.

"No problem," Eddie said, going through the doorway. He popped back in a moment later, his face serious, "and Jim's an asshole."

Barry laughed and Eddie smiled before leaving again. But the words were still in his head. Wells and now Jim. Barry took a bite of the burger. A blood drive was one thing, what if next time his phobia kept him from saving someone? If he wasn't well enough because he had avoided treatment or if he couldn't get himself to take a risk that could lead to injury. Barry stared at the cases in front of him. A little needle prick. Stupid. Silly. Barry clenched his fists. Maybe they were right.

Heads up i do not agree with nor condone the perspectives of "Jim" or Wells in this chapter - even though Barry is beginning to agree with them (you can't deal with a phobia like that) - it will be discussed more in later chapters. As always let me know what you think and any suggestions - i'm going to take the story in a slightly new direction - Barry working through the phobia now instead of just dealing with it - but it's about to get worse before it gets better. Review and tell me what you think! (Please!) And thank you to all that have done so so far - i really appreciate it and you give me great ideas and new perspectives :)