Pain Management Chapter 3, a flash fanfic

TRIGGER WARNING: tortureish, less than previous chapters

Barry was on his way to Star Labs the next day, thinking about how much he didn't want to see Oliver, when his phone rang.

"Hello?"
"The bank on Hope street, near the corner mall – it's Doctor Pain again."

"Got it," Barry said, "why doctor?"

"Just go," Cisco yelled.

Barry slipped the phone into his pocket, changed into his suit, and then he was racing for the bank.

He didn't have time to be either thankful or apprehensive for another shot at the thief. He was just determined that this time he was going to stop him.

He found the bank like he had found all the other stores – except this time there were more people around. All of them were on the ground, some screaming, but most of them paralyzed. Barry raced past them to the vault. He found the man in the ski mask there, dumping bills into a bag.

For just a split second, Barry took inventory. This time he noticed the shape and slump of the man's shoulders, the limp in his walk, the shaky hands. He was short, a thin build.

Barry didn't stop to say hello. He had a prototype of the helmet Cisco was working on. It should be able to block the pain signals that the guy could transmit. Should. Eighty five percent sure, Cisco had said. He ran for the guy.

He made it five feet when it hit him. It knocked the breath out of his lungs and he dropped, skidding to the ground. Somehow it was worse than he remembered.

Get up, get up, he thought. But he was frozen in agonizing pain. He forced himself to move, but it was like he was going in slow motion. He couldn't make his limbs work correctly, never mind run. He got halfway to a standing position, sped for about a fraction of a second, and then the man sent another pain pulse.

This one seared through Barry's body like he was being dipped in lava. It was just one bright flash though. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"You made improvement," Oliver said.

Barry shook. There was still a bruise on his jaw from where it had connected with the tile floor when he passed out. He couldn't shake the feeling that fire was still going up and down his arms.

"Not enough," he said.

"It means it's working though," Caitlin said.

Barry looked away. He wasn't sure that was really a comforting idea.

Oliver slapped a hand over his shoulder, "A little more training and you'll be able to get him."

Barry's stomach turned.

"Yeah, well, I think for today I'm just going to head home," he said.

"We'll make it a short one today."

"Oliver –"

"I promise, half an hour – that's all."

"I really don't feel great right now," Barry said. Actually, he kind of felt like he was going to throw up.

"Your blood sugar's down," Caitlin said, frowning and looking at the sample they had taken.

"I ate like three of those calorie things this morning," Barry responded.

"So is your white blood cell count," Caitlin added.

"Let me see your arm," Caitlin said. She quickly took another sample, and then started analyzing that one as well.

"It's already gone up," she said.

"You think that guy can do actual damage, not just cause pain?" Oliver asked.

"It looks like it, with a high enough dose," Caitlin said, "You got hit by that same second wave, right – let me check you."

The blood sample of Oliver's blood revealed a low white blood cell count, but without his medical records, she couldn't determine if it was normal or abnormal for him. It wasn't anywhere near dangerous.

"Hmm," Caitlin said. "Let me run some more tests."

She then walked off in search of other lab equipment, leaving Oliver and Barry alone.

Oliver looked at him. Barry avoided eye contact.

"Barry," Oliver said.

"Do we really have to do this again today?" Barry asked, "I just blacked out from pain like twenty minutes ago."

"It's been almost an hour," Oliver deadpanned.

"Closer to half," Barry mumbled.

Oliver turned around, and walked into the practice room. Barry sat there for a moment, his stomach churning, contemplating running out right then. Ultimately, he sighed, stood up, and followed Oliver dejectedly.

"Just a half hour?" Barry asked.

"Half hour," Oliver said, "And I won't even have you lie on the table."

Barry's eyes widened, then narrowed again. "Why, what are we doing instead."

Oliver grabbed his bow and walked into the room in front of Barry.

"I'm going to shoot you," he said.

"I don't like this idea."

"And you're going to let me."

"Definitely don't like this idea."

Oliver pulled the string back. "Don't move."

Barry broke out into a sweat. Sure, Oliver had shot him before, but it wasn't like he wanted to repeat the experience.

"Ready?"

"No!"

"If you move, I'm going to shoot you with two instead."

Well that was lovely motivation.

Oliver let go of the arrow and Barry squeezed his eyes shut, everything slowing down. He didn't use his powers though, didn't speed out of the way, didn't even look. Then pain exploded in his leg, right through his calf, exactly like the training exercise before.

"Agghh!" he screamed, dropping to one knee just like last time. He took in deep, shuddering breaths. Pain seared up and down his leg.

"Stand up."

"Let me take it out," Barry said.

"Up."

Barry groaned and stood straight, his teeth clenched.

"Now run towards me."

Barry stared at him. "I can't… run," he ground out.

"Not super speed run, just normal, everyday running."

"I can't."

"Yes you can," Oliver said.

Barry took a step. His leg dragged and he yelled again.

Oliver raised his bow. "I'm going to shoot the other leg, if you're not running in three second."

Barry screamed and moved forward. It wasn't really a run, maybe somewhere between a jog and a limp. He yelled every time his injured leg hit the ground, the jolt jarring up his whole body. He moved towards Oliver, who was only about twenty feet away, and then stopped.

"Keep going," Oliver said, "In circles, around the room."

"Oliver," Barry said.

"Do it," Oliver said, "Or I'll shoot another leg, and you can practice running with two bad legs."

Barry yelled in frustration, but when Oliver lifted the bow he started jogging in circles, yelling and swearing as he did. Pain shot up his leg. It nearly crumpled under him on every hit.

After four circles around the room, Barry stopped, panting and turning to Oliver.

"I have to stop," he said.

Oliver raised the bow.

"Oliver!"

Barry only managed to avoid the arrow that then came flying towards him by using his speed, his leg screaming in protest, and then he continued his jarred running.

"When can I stop?" Barry asked.

"In a half hour."

"Oliver –"

"You have to be able to run while in pain – even when running causes you pain."

"I can't do this for a half hour," he said.

And then Oliver turned to him, his face blank. "Alright."

Barry stopped running, staring at him. "Alright?"

Oliver nodded. "You can stop," he said, and he pointed at the far wall, "If you run to that wall using super speed and then back."

Barry's face fell. "Oliver, I can't –"

"Wall and back," Oliver said, then checked his watch "Or you still have twenty one minutes to go."

Barry screwed up his face. The next thing Oliver knew Barry was in the middle of the room, on the ground, vomiting. Oliver walked over to him.

"You have to make it all the way across in one go, twice," he said.

Barry shot him a murderous look. He got up, hobbled to one side of the room, clenched his teeth, and ran.

The pain was searing up his leg, his muscles moving way too fast and the arrow still lodged in his leg acting as drag with air resistance. One step, two steps, Barry was screaming, but it only took a few more to get across, just… just… there.

Barry collapsed on the ground. Blood was seeping out onto his jeans.

"Isn't that enough?" Barry asked, leaning a hand against the wall for support.

"One more," Oliver said.

Barry screamed.

LIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEE BBBBBBRRRRRRRRREEAAAAAAAAAAKKKK

Barry ended up running the last sprint, then there was the painful part where Oliver ripped the arrow out of him, and then he had quickly made his way home.

Somehow these sessions with Oliver always left him exhausted, but tonight it was getting late already when Barry went home. So when he crashed at around eight o'clock, he was expecting a good night's rest.

Instead he woke up out of breath, drenched in sweat, at around two am, a scream stuck in his throat and his fingers clenched in the sheets.

Barry's eyes darted around the room, his body jerked upwards. When he realized he was in his room, and it was only a nightmare, his body started to relax. He lay back down, focused on evening out his breathing, and fell back asleep.

That was the first one.

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