TRIGGER WARNING: kinda torture again? same type of thing as before i guess - for anyone wondering i think i will continue this story, at least for a couple more chapters anyway - hope you like it :)
Barry almost called in sick at Star Labs the next day. He really was not looking forward to another session with Oliver.
He showed up late, maybe a little later than usual, and Oliver was waiting for him when he trudged in, the same room, with the same table that made him wince already.
"Think we could skip that today?" Barry asked hopefully, pointing at the table.
"Come on, Barry," Oliver said, walking towards it. Barry trudged forward again, going about half as fast as he normally walked. He shuffled his feet.
But soon the restraints were all on him and he was once again held down. That's when Oliver wheeled over the tray that he hadn't noticed before.
"No," Barry said, "Absolutely not." He pressed against the restraints, panic bubbling up.
"Barry –"
"No," he said, "The knife – fine – just – no. I'm not doing that."
"Barry, just relax."
"Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head. He banged at the restraints.
"Barry, it won't be that bad, I promise."
"Your promises," Barry said, "About this, mean nothing."
"It seems a lot worse than it is. I'm going to start out nice and slow, like last time."
"Yeah, and you very quickly started going a lot faster," Barry said.
"I'll keep going slow until you're comfortable."
"I am not going to be comfortable with that."
"Barry –"
"I mean it, Oliver, I'll do this – I'll do this whole pain resistance thing but not – not that."
On the table that Oliver had wheeled over was an electric burner, a flame already sprouted up and several long poles of metal with various sized circles on the ends of them. They were brands.
Oliver picked up one of the poles, one of the smallest ones. Barry started to struggle.
"No," he said, his breath catching in his throat. He started fighting, jerking away.
"Barry," Oliver said, his free hand out, "Easy – easy, Barry, relax."
"Don't touch me," Barry nearly yelled. He couldn't breathe.
Oliver took his arm in his hand and Barry screamed, all resolve gone.
"Shhh, it's alright, it's OK," Oliver said. He placed the tip gently against Barry's arm.
Barry gasped, but then the yelling stopped, and his body relaxed. He panted, taking short, shallow breaths. A warm point hit his skin, but the brand was barely hot. It didn't even hurt.
"There, see, just heat," Oliver said.
Barry gulped, gaining back some control. "I don't – I don't like fires. Burned myself, when I was young – it's not usually a problem." He smiled meekly.
"It's OK," Oliver said, but mentally he was scrambling. This was going to complicate things. "I'll take it extra slow."
Barry looked at the poles again. Oliver wheeled it out of view. He started hyperventilating as soon as Oliver brought over a new one. He relaxed slightly when Oliver tested it on his own skin first, merely shaking his hand.
This one hurt a little. Barry let out another gasp, but after a second it was fine.
"Do we really have to do these?" Barry asked. "Can't we go back to the knife?"
"Barry, it's going to be alright," Oliver said, grabbing the first one again, this time heated up a bit longer.
Barry let out a short cry this time. He erupted into tremors.
"OK," he said, "Slower – slower please." He was hyperventilating again.
Oliver brought back the same one again. Barry flinched away.
"Barry," Oliver said, "You need to look over here. It's OK. It's just a little heat. You're body heals it up before I'm even back."
Barry shook his head. "I'm sorry, Oliver, I just – I can't watch on this one."
"Yes you can, come on," Oliver said.
Barry took in a deep breath and turned his eyes back to Oliver. Oh God, the kid was scared. Oliver wondered if maybe he should switch back to the knife.
But no, he couldn't prepare him just with that. To make that kind of pain with a knife – Barry would bleed out even with his healing.
"It's OK," Oliver repeated, looking straight at Barry as the brand hit his skin. Barry winced, but didn't jerk away this time.
Oliver kept going with only light heat. Barry relaxed a little bit, but anytime he brought the heat level up a little, he tensed up all over again.
They were at it for over a half hour and still hadn't made much progress when Oliver started noticing the strain in Barry's eyes. Ugh. He teetered with the idea of stopping, but ultimately this was taking too long. It wasn't ideal, but he was going to have to give Barry a break.
Oliver went and put the poles down, then grabbed a water bottle.
"Are we done?" Barry asked.
The look almost made Oliver quit right then. Not even close, he thought, but he just shook his head. "Taking a break."
He gave Barry some water , and let him relax for a couple minutes.
"OK," Oliver said. He came back with the same pole, but this time heated up hotter. Barry took a deep breath, bracing himself. Oliver pressed the metal to his skin.
"Ow, shit, Oliver," Barry yelled, jerking away even though he was tied down.
"It's going to have to start getting a little hotter," Oliver said, "Otherwise we'll be here all night."
Barry grimaced, his eyes pleading. Oliver brought back another one. The second hit made Barry screw up his eyes and clench his teeth. After the third he was trembling again.
"How you doing Barry?" Oliver asked. He had the brands over close to him again, and he had opted for trying a continuous stream of burns rather than hitting him one at a time with more painful ones.
"This sucks," Barry said.
"I know, keep breathing."
"You keep saying that," Barry said.
"You keep holding your breath."
Oliver gradually increased the intensity of the burns. Barry gradually got louder and louder with his complaints, yelling and crying out, until they suddenly died out altogether.
After the third or fourth burn with almost no response at all, Oliver looked over at Barry, peering across the table where his head was hanging down.
"You still there, Barry?" Oliver asked, grabbing another rod.
Barry nodded slowly. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were shut, his face screwed up and strained.
Oliver continued. The silence was unnerving. It was better when he just yelled, let out the pain and frustration. Barry just lay there, tensing every time the brand hit his skin.
"Hey," Oliver said finally, shaking his shoulder. "Stay with me here."
"You said focus on something else," Barry said slowly, voice raw.
"That's not focusing," Oliver said, "That's just zoning out. You're shutting down, if you want to stop the metahuman, you're going to have to act."
Barry groaned.
Oliver went into the next round of burns. Barry still stayed in his nice shut down mode for a while. He didn't want to think. It hurt to think, everything hurt. It didn't matter much though, because Oliver decided it was time to go to the next level, and the brands started getting larger and hotter and very, very painful. Barry couldn't stay stuck in his head any longer, and the yells came back, then the curses, and finally, the pleas.
"Another break," Barry gasped.
"Can't do it, Bar," Oliver said, shaking his head.
"Please," Barry said. He yelled again.
Barry turned his head. He saw the next one coming, how it was burning red hot. It was larger than the others, a new one, and it was almost the size of his hand.
"Not that one," he said, "Oliver, that's too much, don't."
"It's OK, Barry," Oliver said, "You don't have to watch this one. Close your eyes."
"No," Barry said, pulling at the restraints, "Oliver, please, it's too much – not yet, just not yet, let me – just give me one minute."
"Close your eyes Barry. It'll be done in a second."
"No," he said, "not yet – Oliver, Oliver!" The brand came down on his skin, his leg and Barry screamed, the pain flaring through him. It was the worst one yet.
"Stop," he cried when it was done, "That's enough, no more."
"Getting there, Barry."
"Oliver, enough."
"Just try and relax."
"A break then – just – just five minutes."
"It'll just drag it out longer."
To be fair, Oliver was increasing the speed of things rapidly. It was taking too damn long. They had been at it for an hour and a half. Oliver didn't want to go for more than two hours at a time with Barry – he needed to hurry up.
He placed another brand against Barry's skin.
The pleading continued, back and forth. When they reached the peak of things – when Oliver was going in quick secessions with the brands and Barry was screaming and crying, Barry vomited. Oliver was actually surprised it had taken this long before he puked. There were towels there for that purpose but after cleaning him up a little Oliver went right back to work.
It wasn't long after that that Oliver started going back to the smaller, cooler brands. He tapered it off just like he had with the cuts, except faster this time because it had taken so long. Barry looked gray and he had taken on a sickly pallor. This time, when Oliver finally finished, Barry didn't say anything. Oliver brought the water bottle to Barry's lips, but Barry turned his head away, leaning it back against the table.
"Hey, Barry," Oliver said softly, "It's all done. Take a drink."
Barry turned his head again though, eyes closed, and groaned.
"Come on Barry, it's all over, you need to drink something."
Barry suddenly gagged, and then started dry heaving, his stomach convulsing.
"Easy, easy," Oliver said, "Alright, I'm gonna get you out of these things, OK?"
Oliver undid the restraints and Barry practically fell off the table.
"Oh, ugh, come on, Barry," Oliver said, catching him and helping him into the other room, where the couch was.
Barry lay down, his head against the armrest on the couch.
Oliver tried one more time with the water bottle. "Come on, Barry, you've got to drink something."
"No," Barry mumbled.
"You can't sleep until you have something to drink," Oliver said in a stern tone. Barry took no notice. He shivered.
"I have to make sure you're OK, Barry, alright? Then you can sleep."
Barry made no response.
"Barry, if you don't open your eyes and listen to me I'm going to hook you up to an IV."
Barry cracked his eyes open. He did not look happy.
Barry grabbed the water bottle with shaking fingers, bringing it to his lips. He downed half the bottle, then threw it to the ground, leaning back down.
"How are you feeling?" Oliver asked.
"Like shit," Barry said.
"You doing OK, though?"
"You just stuck me with hot iron like a million times."
"Alright, we'll talk later," Oliver said, rolling his eyes. Barry slumped down, but it took him longer to fall asleep this time. Oliver left, but he was only in the other room. He wasn't leaving until Barry woke up. Barry shifted and fidgeted though. He started shivering, and found a blanket set out for him. He finally fell into a fitful sleep.
Review please :) It is very much appreciated - let me know any ideas/suggestions/comments