Hey guys, sorry it's been so long - hopefully next update sooner. Anyway, enjoy :)

"Don't run until after I give you the shot," Oliver said. He had his hand on Barry's arm and Barry was tense, already sweating. "You don't want the needle to break inside you because you run before I finish injecting you."

Well wasn't that a pleasant thought.

Barry nodded. He wiped his hands on his pants. They were clammy. He looked across the room, and it suddenly seemed a very long way.

I can do this, he thought, get to Felicity. Get the antidote. It will only be a few seconds of pain that way. He could do this.

"Ready?"

Barry nodded, taking a deep breath, eyes trained on Felicity.

He felt the stab of the shot, carefully waited that extra second for Oliver to pull it out, and then he took off.

And crumpled to the ground.

Barry screamed and tore at his arm, thrashing on his back at the pain. He was only a few feet away from Oliver. He forgot all about Felicity, all about the antidote, all about everything except the pain. It hurt, it hurt so bad and he couldn't do anything except yell and writhe on the floor.

When it finally stopped he was panting, lying on his back and staring as the ceiling came back into focus. His body seemed to buzz, the pain melting away and his muscles going limp at the sudden relief.

"Come on, Barry," Oliver said, and there was a hand on his wrist and he was being dragged upright. Barry stumbled, and Oliver had him back the few feet he had made and then Barry saw the next shot and he panicked.

"Oliver, no, wait," he said, but Oliver had a firm grip on his wrist, not letting go.

"You get a break if you make it across," he said. He looked up at Barry. "Concentrate, Bar, focus on Felicity. You can do this. Run through the pain and it will be over so much faster."

"Oliver, I can't – I can't." His voice escalated as Oliver brought the shot up to his arm. Barry kept struggling and Oliver stopped, his voice going deadly hard.

"Barry," he said, "If you keep fighting me, I'm going to have to put you back on the table. You need to cooperate. Concentrate. Stop fighting me and focus on what you have to do."

Barry cringed and he wanted to cry, just didn't want that pain to come back when he just got rid of it. He wanted to run away, out the door, but then Oliver stuck him with the shot again.

He took off. Made it maybe ten feet this time. Then he fell to the floor.

His vision swam and pain shot down his arm, through his chest, across his sides. He looked up on his hands and knees. Focus. Focus, Barry. He stumbled up. Get to Felicity. Felicity would make the pain stop. He stumbled a couple more steps. The pain reached his legs and he screamed and fell again. Get up, get up. He was crawling, desperately trying to get across, but this wasn't working. He forced himself to stand, was walking, stumbling, and then running.

Somehow he was on his hands and knees again on the other side and Felicity was right over him and he felt a dart of pain and then –

He collapsed on the ground, rolling to his back. The pain melted away again, much faster this time, all gone at once. Barry breathed deeply through his mouth, crossing one hand over his stomach. Oh, God, he was happy that was over. He closed his eyes and didn't dare move. A hard floor had never felt so comforting.

He felt hands in his hair and on his arm and realized Felicity had knelt down next to him.

"That was good, Bar, really good. You did a great job," she said. Barry didn't feel like he did a great job, but he wasn't going to complain because the pain was replaced with Felicity and he was lost in the soothing feeling of her playing with his hair and rubbing gentle circles over his arm.

It seemed like seconds when he heard footsteps, and then the shadow of Oliver crouching next to him, but it had to be five minutes because Oliver was gently telling him it was time to go again.

"Come on, Bar," Oliver said, "Why don't you take a drink and then we'll have you try that one again.

Barry grimaced and opened his eyes and he did not want to do that again.

Oliver must have seen the look on his face because his tone got harder and his face was back to that stern expression. "Barry," he said, "don't fight me on this. If you don't come back when it's done, I won't give you any breaks."

Barry wanted to punch him. But he got up, slowly – very slowly, but he got up, took a sip of water, and walked back, trudged back, after Oliver.

"Same one?" Barry asked, eyeing the shot.

"Same one," Oliver said. "You can do it. You almost got it that time. Just keep going. Stay focused."

Barry fell once that time. After a couple seconds on the ground he was able to get up and run to Felicity. The next time he made it straight across. He did it again, stumbled in the beginning, but ran the rest of the way. That's about when he started to relax.

This was something he could handle. His body was getting the message – there would be a quick, sharp onslaught of pain, but if he ran, it would stop. After a couple more tries, he was running straight to Felicity each time – no stumbling, no falling. He would run, Felicity would inject him with the antidote, and then he would sit in the chair or lie on the ground and sip water and relax for a few minutes. This, he could handle. Just a few seconds of pain, followed by long minutes of relief.

Barry walked back to Oliver when he called him. But as he watched Oliver was taking a new vial.

"What's that?" Barry asked, anxiety breaking out all over again.

"We're moving up to the next one," Oliver said.

Barry froze and he had a flash of the day before and the second shot that time and he took a step back.

Oliver looked up at him out of the corner of his eye. "You're doing really good, Barry," he said, "you'll do fine with this one too."

"I passed out when you gave me that."

"You passed out the first time I gave you that," Oliver corrected him, "And you were panicking. You're not panicking now, and don't let yourself start. You're OK. You can do this – you just have to focus."

"How many more?" Barry asked.

"Depends how you do with this."

"Can you give me a number?" Barry asked, "Just – please – something to count down from."

Oliver sighed. "Alright. Ten, and then we're going to do one of the next one. If you do well with it though, we'll do less."

Barry took a deep breath and nodded. Ten. He could do that. Ten wasn't such a scary number. Ten times. Maybe less.

"OK," he said.

Oliver took his arm again. "Remember," he said, "Focus. Run. It'll hurt – but you can make it stop. You just have to get to Felicity."

He could make it stop. He was in control. He could do this. Oliver pressed down on the shot.

He didn't make it three feet.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Barry pushed his hands through his hair and twisted away. He was trying not to cry, trying not to scream and he felt bad, because Felicity shouldn't have to deal with him like this, but he couldn't stop.

"Shhh," she said, trying to console him, trying to get him to relax and calm down. They were back in the room, done for the day. Barry felt like someone jammed a red hot poker through his head. It was pounding and he could still feel the pain everywhere. He had been wrong. Ten was too much, ten was way too much.

He shuddered and gasped and he couldn't sit still. Felicity had her hands on his shoulders, on his arms. Relax, Barry. It's OK, Barry. It's over, Barry. He couldn't breathe.

"Hey," she said, "hey, look at me."

Barry turned, tried to look, but his eyes kept darting – kept darting everywhere. Oliver had stayed with him for a bit this time, telling him he did good and it was OK now and it was OK if he was upset, if he cried or yelled or wanted to punch Oliver a couple times, but Barry didn't want to cry or yell, just wanted it to stop, and he couldn't bring himself to hit Oliver when he knew he was only trying to help, even if he maybe wanted to beat the shit out of him a little bit.

"It's OK," Felicity said, "You're OK."

Barry shuddered and he wanted to get away, didn't want to do this anymore, didn't want to be the Flash responsible for stopping metahumans, just wanted to be Barry Allen for a little bit.

"I can't do this," he said.

"Yes you can," Felicity said steadily, "You're doing great."

"No, I'm not," Barry said, shuddering again, "I can't make it through one session without going to pieces – I can't think straight, can't sleep, can't focus – I'm not – I'm just not ready for this, not this fast, this much. I'm not strong enough – not good enough."

"Barry," Felicity said gently, "Oliver's trying to make you go to pieces. He's pushing you past your breaking point on purpose – it's not that you aren't doing well enough, or you're failing or something – Oliver doesn't stop until you're a mess. It's how you're getting better."

"Well I don't like it," Barry said.

Felicity had to smile. "You're not supposed to like it. The point is, you can do this. But you need to stop telling yourself that you can't – you're going to make it a self-fulfilling prophecy. You're perfectly capable of doing this – Oliver wouldn't have suggested it if he thought you couldn't. You can do it, no matter how awful and painful and miserable it is."

"Couldn't he just make it a little less awful and painful and miserable?" Barry muttered.

"I'll let him know your suggestion," Felicity said. Barry huffed.

"Couldn't we just make it every other day?"

"You know why you can't."

Barry hugged his arms around himself. "I feel like I'm drowning, Felicity," he said quietly.

"I know," she said, "but it's going to be OK."'

"It doesn't feel like it."

"You've gotta take it one day at a time, Barry."

Barry was shuddering again and he just wanted it to stop. "I can't even do that."

"Just slow it down, Barry – don't take everything so fast. Focus on now, not on an hour ago, not on tomorrow. Just now."

Barry stared at his shoes. "Right now I feel like I can't breathe and I can't stop shaking and everything hurts," he said.

Felicity frowned. "You shouldn't be in pain right now."

Barry moved his palms over his knees. "Feels like needles everywhere. And my head's pounding."

"Maybe we should have Caitlin check you out."

Barry closed his eyes and leaned back, scrunching up his face. "Please don't make me go out there."

"Well, if you're in pain maybe the shots are leaving a residue or something."

"I really, really, really don't want Caitlin to stick me with a bunch of needles right now."

"OK," Felicity said, "But if it keeps up, you're going to have to let her take a look."

Barry groaned.

"Oh, come on," Felicity said, "A couple of blood tests and some scans – that's nothing you can't handle."

Barry was shaking again. "I'm not so sure of that right now."

"Well I am," Felicity said, "And you'll be fine either way."

"You have way too much faith in me."

"Don't start. I'm sick of your self-depreciating comments. You're being terribly, extremely brave and you need to realize that and give yourself some credit."

"Feels like I'm being terribly extremely stupid."

"Well you're that too, but we're focusing on the good attributes right now."

That got a short laugh out of him and Felicity counted it as a win. Barry still looked miserable but the shaking and fidgeting had settled down to sporadic trembling.

"What do you want to do, Barry?" Felicity asked.

"I don't know."

"I have ice cream."

"I don't want ice cream, Felicity."

"Everyone likes ice cream."

"Felicity."

"Alright – soup? How about soup?"

"I don't want food."

"Alright, well, I've got a laptop and a Netflix account."

"I think I just want to sleep."

"OK," Felicity said.

But Barry didn't make any move to lie down, still sitting up, hunched over with his elbows on his knees.

"You know, usually people lie down when the want to sleep."

Barry hesitated. "I – I just –"

"Right," Felicity said. She took his shoulder and pulled. He leaned back and she grabbed a pillow so his head was resting against her leg. Barry still had one leg draped over the side of the couch, tense. "Come on, up, Barry. It's alright."

Barry lifted his leg onto the couch. He shuddered again.

"I don't want any more nightmares," he said softly.

"If you have a nightmare, I'll wake you up," Felicity said, "and I'll be right here."

"OK," Barry said. He grabbed a blanket, pulled it over him, but he kept shuddering, squirming around.

"Relax, Barry," Felicity said, "get some sleep. I'll be right here."

There was a long pause and then Barry trembled again. "Felicity," he said. His voice was uncharacteristically small sounding. "Could you um, this is going to sound really dumb – actually it is really dumb, and kind of embarrassing, but you know, I figure you've seen me break down enough by now that I can't really do anything that could top that embarrassment and um, anyway, could you, uh, maybe just, play with my hair, a little bit? If it's OK, I mean, and – God, that sounds really weird – but, it – it's just it kind of helps and I don't –"

"Barry," Felicity said, shaking her head, smiling. "It's fine. I can do that."

Barry's face was a little red. "Thanks, sorry."

"Don't apologize," Felicity said, trailing her fingers through his hair, "I'll do whatever you need me to. It's Ok – I like this too when I'm upset."

Barry took in a deep breath. "Thanks, Felicity." Felicity could already see him calming, staring to relax some of those muscles.

"Just relax," Felicity said, "Get some sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."