Chemicals

Caitlin was trying. She was trying so hard to stay professional—to stay in her doctor state of mind as she went through the procedure. That was proving difficult for her, though. Her heart clenched in sorrow and guilt when she saw the way Barry tensed as she inserted his IV. Barry was trying to put on a brave face for everyone, but Caitlin was close enough to him to see the trembling in his hands.

Barry was scared.

He had good reason to be. Thursday came faster than they all had been anticipating. Caitlin had hoped a week would be long enough for Barry to recover from the first round of treatment, but she seemed to have overestimated his physical threshold.

Mentally, he was as strong as ever, but physically, he hadn't recovered from the chemo as much as she had hoped. He had only just started to keep solid foods down the previous day. He had otherwise had been throwing up all week. It was extremely discouraging. For most of the week, Barry had been barely able to keep any food down, and the antiemetics weren't doing much for his nausea.

And now, just when he was starting to show improvement, they had to start the process all over again. Caitlin didn't feel right about it. She had discussed it with Barry, suggesting that maybe weekly chemotherapy sessions were going to be too much for him and that they should make his recovery period longer.

Barry shot down that idea almost immediately. She knew that, more than anything, Barry wanted more time to recover from the chemo, but he was determined to fight. He was willing to suck it up and deal with the side effects if it meant beating the cancer faster.

That didn't mean he wasn't scared, though.

Barry took a deep, shaky breath as Caitlin attached the chemo medication to his saline drip. He gave them all a small, reassuring smile as she started the infusion, but Caitlin saw right through it. She was certain the others did, too.

"Can I get you anything, Bar?" Joe asked somberly, "Water? Another blanket?"

Barry shook his head.

"I'm good," he said, his lips twitching, "I'm just trying not to think about it too much."

"We could turn the TV on," Caitlin suggested, "You can just relax and watch it for a while?"

"Sure," Barry whispered.

Caitlin took in a deep breath as she walked over to the television Cisco had set up in the med bay for Barry. She was glad he had thought about it. Barry clearly needed the distraction, and sitting there making small talk with him probably wouldn't be much help.

Barry had brought along some case reports from work that he had intended to work on, but Caitlin didn't like that idea. He shouldn't be straining himself, even mentally, and she found it hard to believe going through paperwork was going to help matters once the nausea set in again. In fact, trying to read those documents would probably only make his nausea worse.

Cisco turned the TV on and started flipping through channels.

"I'll have to get this connected to some streaming apps," he sighed, "There's nothing on right now."

"Anything's fine," Barry muttered, toying with his IV.

Caitlin slapped his hand away from it and gave him a stern look.

"What?" Barry laughed, "It itches."

Caitlin shook her head at him but couldn't help but smile. It was good to hear a laugh from Barry. It was the first smile he had cracked since they had started prepping him for the chemo treatment. Unfortunately, Barry didn't stay smiling for long. It slid from his face as soon as Cisco flipped to a local news channel. As soon as Barry saw the headline, his expression morphed into one of dismay.

Citizens Continue to Question Mysterious Flash Disappearance

Cisco held up the remote to change the channel.

"Don't," Barry stopped him, his voice dropping to a whisper, "Leave it on."

The others all exchanged uneasy looks. Barry didn't look at them, though. He was completely absorbed in the news report.

"The disappearance of our beloved Scarlet Speedster has citizens of Central City in a state of apprehensive uncertainty. The city's hero hasn't been spotted in over a full month, and citizens are still speculating his whereabouts. A recent poll conducted by the CCPN has shown that over eighty-three percent of citizens believe the speedster to still be alive and are hopeful to see his return.

"Others have ventured so far as to say the city's hero may be dead or may have decided to hang up his cowl for good, leaving the city to fend for itself. We at CCPN, however, still have faith that our hero will return soon. Many believe the Flash to be injured, in which case, we hope our beloved Scarlet Speedster makes a speedy recovery. Back to Jason Wiggs with our sports update."

As the news broadcast went to their sports segment, Cisco muted the television. For a moment, nobody said anything. They all exchanged nervous glances before turning their eyes to Barry, whose expression was unreadable.

"Bar…" Joe said in a strained voice.

"It's fine," Barry whispered, "It's not surprising that people would question it."

"At least they still have faith in you," Cisco reasoned, "People don't think you just abandoned them."

"Some of them," Barry added quietly.

"Cisco's right," Joe assured him, "The majority of people aren't going to believe the Flash just up and left them. They have more faith in you than that."

"I know," Barry sighed, "But what about a month from now? What about six months from now? We don't know how long I'm going to be sick, and during that time, people aren't going to have any idea why the Flash disappeared."

"Well, once we tell Iris the truth, maybe she can help clear things up with the public," Joe said reasonably.

Barry didn't look reassured, though. In fact, the mention of Iris made him look even more downtrodden. Joe knew he had talked to her on the phone just yesterday. He had overheard the better part of their conversation. Barry was playing it cool of course, acting like everything was fine and normal here at home. It must be killing him, not telling her the truth.

Now that it was in the news, it was bound to reach Iris eventually. Thankfully, she didn't have much connection to the internet where she was, so there was every chance it wouldn't reach her until after she got home. Still, the possibility of it had to be adding to Barry's stress.

"Maybe you should just rest now," Caitlin suggested, glancing worriedly at Barry's heart monitor, "You can worry about all of this later. For now, you should be taking it easy."

Barry nodded silently, a numb expression on his face. Cisco changed the channel a few more times before settling on a sci-fi movie, one Barry was sure to like. Barry hardly watched it, though. As he gradually got sicker from the chemo, he paid less and less attention to the TV. If anything, it seemed to be an irritation to him. They decided to turn it off when Barry's eyes started to droop, hoping to let him sleep. His eyes were closed for only ten minutes, however, before they suddenly snapped open with a lurch from Barry's stomach.

The vomiting started.

It was worse than the first time. Barry was still recovering from his first chemo treatment on top of the treatment he was already receiving. Last time, he had at least been able to rest in short periods of time, but this time, the vomiting didn't cease enough for him to fall asleep. He was awake all night.

Caitlin kept him there for observation throughout the entire night and even a good portion of the following day this time. It was past noon before Barry was finally able to go home. He vomited twice just during drive. By the end of the day, Joe felt like he was going to be sick, his stomach churning horribly just from watching Barry vomit so much.

By that point, there was nothing left in Barry's stomach, and he was simply dry heaving repetitively. Barry's eyes were bloodshot from his lack of sleep and constant gagging, and more than anything, Joe wished he could do more to help him feel better. All he could do was run a damp washcloth over Barry's face as he laid in bed, trying desperately to keep his eyes closed for more than five minutes at a time.

By Friday evening, Barry was too exhausted to stay awake. He slipped in and out of consciousness, often vomiting in his sleep. He didn't even wake up, and Joe was diligent to be sure Barry didn't choke on his own vomit in his delirious state. By Saturday morning, the vomiting finally seemed to slow. Barry's stomach was too sore to contract, and his gagging became weak and half-hearted.

Eating wasn't even an option for Barry until Saturday evening, when he became more cognizant. He had gone nearly forty-eight hours without so much as a bite of food, which terrified Joe. Barry, however, still had no desire to eat. All he could think about was sleeping. Caitlin gave him nutrients via an IV, which she had set up in Barry's bedroom now.

It was a challenge, hiding everything from Wally. Of course, Wally questioned why Barry never left his room and why Joe seemed to check on him every few minutes. Joe had no choice but to lie and tell him Barry was sick with the flu. He knew it wouldn't be long, however, before they would be forced to tell Wally the truth. Barry couldn't always have the flu.

Like last time, Barry became more alert and oriented around Sunday afternoon. Joe was finally able to coax some food into him, and Barry left his bed for short periods of time. Also like last time, Joe argued with Barry about returning to work the following day.

Barry wouldn't see reason. Joe couldn't get him to see that he was simply too sick to go to work on Monday. Barry had convinced himself that three days was plenty of time for him to recover, but Joe didn't think he realized just how sick he was. Barry wasn't aware of the long hours Joe spent by his bedside, constantly wiping the vomit from his mouth and monitoring the chemo-induced fevers. Barry slept through the worst of it and didn't fully understand just how bad it was.

It was like a switch had been flipped. With minimal fuss, Barry confined himself to bed over the weekend, giving himself time to rest and recuperate. He allowed himself to be sick. When Monday came around, however, it was as if Barry's cancer didn't exist. Bright and early Monday morning, Barry rolled out of bed, disconnected the IV he had been on all weekend and rushed to get ready for work.

After forcing Barry to choke down a bowl of cereal, Joe reluctantly drove the two of them to the CCPD.

"Here," he sighed as he drove, handing Barry a small bottle.

Barry gratefully took it.

"Thanks," he muttered, tilting his head back to use the eye drops Joe had given him.

"Mm hmm," Joe hummed, not taking his eyes from the road.

Barry let out a heavy sigh as he checked his eyes in the mirror. They were still bloodshot.

"I know you're mad," Barry mumbled, closing the passenger mirror with a sigh, "But I really am fine, Joe. I wouldn't be going to work if I thought I couldn't handle it."

"I'm not mad, Bar," Joe said in a strained voice, his eyes not tearing from the road, "I'm just worried. And I know you can handle it. I'm not underestimating your resolve. Just because you can work, though, it doesn't mean you should."

"I should be there today," Barry insisted, "The new CSI is coming in, and I should really be there to show him the ropes."

"Why does Singh have him starting on a Monday?" Joe grumbled, shaking his head, "He knows you get chemo on the weekends."

"I told him today would be fine," Barry assured, "And it is. It's not like I really have to train the guy. He's an experienced CSI, not some fresh student out of college. He should already know what he's doing. I just have to show him where everything is and go over our lab protocols with him. Really, it's going to be a pretty boring day."

Little did Barry know, the day would be far from boring.

Barry was at work for a mere half hour before Singh appeared in the doorway of his lab, escorted by a very distinguished looking young man. His dress was almost too formal for the setting, more so than Barry's anyways. With pursed lips, he walked into the lab with an air of confidence and strange familiarity, as if he were walking into a room he knew well, a lab he walked into every day.

"Alright, so this is our forensics lab," Singh was saying to the blonde man, "This is where you'll be working alongside our CSI, Barry Allen. Barry, this is Julian Albert, our transfer from Coast City."

Barry smiled widely and reached out to shake the man's hand.

"Nice to meet you," he greeted.

The man stared at Barry's hand for a moment, his lips turning downward into a subtle frown, before turning to Singh.

"Another CSI?" he queried, his voice drawling out in a heavy British accent, "You didn't say I'd be working with a partner."

Barry bit his lip and awkwardly lowered his hand.

"Yes, well," Singh said calmly, "Mr. Allen has been with us for the past five years, and he's been our primary forensic investigator for the last three. With our senior lab director retiring, I thought it best I hire another CSI to give him a helping hand until the position is filled."

Barry couldn't help but give Singh a small smile of appreciation. He had agreed not to tell anyone the real reason behind his hiring a second CSI, and Barry couldn't express how grateful he was to him for keeping his word.

"Your director is retiring?" Albert asked, raising an eyebrow.

Clearly, he was interested.

"This Friday will be his last day," Singh confirmed, "Until I can find a replacement, reports will be sent to precinct three to be signed off by their director. It will slow down the filing process, but I'm sure you and Mr. Allen should be able to manage for the time being."

"Yes," Albert nodded, his eyes flitting to Barry, "I'm sure we will."

Singh nodded with a small smile.

"Very well then," he said, "Barry, I trust you'll show Mr. Albert the ropes?"

Barry smiled.

"I'd love to," he nodded.

The captain returned his smile, sharing a brief understanding look with him before exiting the lab. After he left the room, Barry turned his gaze to his new partner, but the other man wasn't looking at him. His eyes were scanning over the room, taking in his new workspace.

"Okay," Barry grinned, clapping his hands together, "So I suppose I'll show you the lab first."

He moved to the far end of the lab, gesturing the other man to follow him.

"Here we have our work bench," he started, "We only have one microscope, I'm afraid, so I guess we'll just have to make it work."

"Yes, that won't do," Julian said immediately, eyes scanning over the single microscope, "I don't share equipment. No worries, though. I'll address this issue with the captain."

Barry stared at him.

"Sure," he said slowly, after a moment, "Um…yeah, so we have our chemical analysis setup right over here: full chemical stock, pipettes, test tubes—"

"When was the last time these were washed?" the other man scoffed, picking up a test tube to inspect it, a look of distaste wrinkling his features.

"Sorry," Barry said quickly, forcing a small laugh to shake off some of the awkwardness that had crept into the room, "I meant to wash those on Friday, but I had an…appointment to get to. They're usually much better kept."

Julian didn't say anything as he returned the test tube to the rack and turned to look over the rest of the workspace.

"So…um," Barry continued, "We have our incoming case files stacked over here, outgoing over there. Over here we have our plasma mass spectrometer…and our trajectory rods for ballistics…and over here's our—"

"Yes, yes, I know what a centrifuge is," Julian waved him off impatiently.

Barry clamped his mouth shut, turning to Julian with a confused look on his face.

"Look, Allen," Julian drawled, "I appreciate this whole boy scout first day initiation tour, but I'm no novice when it comes to forensics. I'm quite capable of finding my way around a CSI lab, given it's not too…disorganized."

Julian's eyes shifted to the mess of papers stacked on Barry's desk.

"But we'll be addressing that later," Julian said pleasantly, tearing his eyes from the papers to look at Barry, "For now, just show me where my desk is so I can get started with my work, hmm?"

Barry blinked at him a moment, and then snapped into action.

"Right," he said quickly, leading the other man around his own desk to where the second one was, "I suppose I should have showed you where you can put your things first. Sorry, I guess I was excited and got ahead of myself."

Barry managed an uneasy laugh in an attempt to relieve the tension, but it wasn't returned. In fact, Julian looked like he was trying hard not to roll his eyes at him.

"Captain Singh had maintenance bring a desk up from the basement for you," Barry said, gesturing to the desk set up right across from his.

"Yeah, this won't do," Julian muttered, looking over the desk, "I simply can't work in such a confined space. No worries. I'll have them bring up another desk for me."

"You…you want two desks?" Barry frowned, his eyebrows furrowing.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Julian returned condescendingly, "Is that going to be a problem, Mr. Allen?"

"Well, n-no," Barry stammered, "It's just…the space…"

"Great," Julian clipped, setting his briefcase down on the desk with a smile, the first he had given Barry, "I think this arrangement will do very nicely. Granted, I wasn't expecting a partner, and a messy one at that, but I can learn to deal with it, for the time being. We'll get this lab organized and your skills up to snuff in no time, Allen."

Barry stared at him.

"Thank you," he muttered, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "I guess."

"You are most welcome," Julian said pleasantly as he sat down at his desk, clearly not picking up on Barry's annoyance.

For a moment, Barry stood there, staring, as the man began unpacking his things. Julian wasn't what Barry had been expecting, to say the least. When Joe and Singh had first suggested hiring on a second CSI, Barry had initially blanched at the idea. After giving it more thought, however, Barry realized it might actually be nice to have someone working alongside him for once.

He had always been alone in the lab, Southworth not being much for company, seeing as he holed himself up in his office most of the time. After thinking over the idea, Barry had actually been looking forward to having a partner.

Until he met Julian Albert.

Nothing about the day turned out as expected. It wasn't the boring, easy day Barry had been anticipating. Julian, Barry quickly learned, was anything but boring or easy. He was a difficult man. Headstrong. Pompous. Condescending.

Also unlike he had anticipated, Barry didn't spend his day showing Julian how things were done at their precinct. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Julian seemed intent on criticizing just about everything involving the way Barry did his work.

According to Julian, Barry's organization skills were horrendous, his evidence collecting techniques were rudimentary at best, and his way of filing his reports was dismally inefficient. It seemed Barry had been doing his job wrong for years. At least, in Julian's opinion.

"The way you've arranged these chemicals is laughable," Julian declared, shaking his head at the stock shelf, "These dangerous substances are no laughing matter, though, Allen. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the way these are organized. How on earth do you ever find anything?"

"I know where everything is," Barry sighed, trying hard to keep the impatience out of his voice.

He had been trying all morning to bite his tongue and not let the other man's criticisms get the better of him, but by lunch his patience was already wearing thin. His head was pounding, and as much as he wanted to blame the chemo for that, he knew Julian's long-winded lectures about lab functionality were a contributing factor.

"Correction," Julian chimed, "You think you know where everything is, but who's to say you won't reach out and grab the wrong substance? Best case scenario, you destroy a piece of evidence. Worst case, you start a chemical fire and burn the whole place down. Either way, we need to reorganize this mess before an accident can occur."

"The chemicals," Barry gritted, "Are arranged in a way that avoids accidents. Sure, putting them in a different order would make them easier to find, but certain chemicals should not be stored next to each other, which is why I—"

"I'm well aware of that, Allen," Julian huffed, rolling his eyes, "But there should still be some sense to the way they are arranged. Lab safety is a very serious matter and one that should not be taken lightly."

"You don't need to tell me that," Barry retorted, "Seeing as I was doused in these chemicals last year when I was struck by—"

"You see?" Julian said gravely, waggling a finger at him, "Sloppy. If I had been around, I'm sure that little incident wouldn't have happened. Just be glad I'm here now to help you."

"I have every single chemical exactly where I want it," Barry said firmly, "Look, Julian. You've already rearranged my filing cabinets, my lab bench, and even my desk. I've let you do whatever you needed to feel at home in the lab, but messing with my chemical stock is where I draw the line."

"Are we going to have a problem, Allen?" Julian asked, raising his eyebrows, "Because I was under the impression this was our chemical stock. Our lab. I may be new here, but I've been in this field just as long as you have, and it's become quite clear to me that I am the more competent CSI. It's only a wonder how this precinct has managed to get by without me for so long. If you would just swallow your pride and show a little humility, you'd see that."

"Oh really?" Barry laughed humorlessly, his voice rising, "You want to talk to me about humility? You're the one who's been—"

"Barry."

The words died in Barry's throat as he looked over to the doorway. Joe was standing there, his coat in hand and a confused look on his face.

"Well, I came up here to see how everything was going," Joe said calmly, walking over to Barry's desk, "But I think I got my answer. First day and you're already at each other's throats."

"Nonsense, Detective," Julian said pleasantly, stepping forward to shake Joe's hand, "Everything is going swimmingly."

Joe raised his eyebrows as he shook the other man's hand. His eyes flitted to Barry, who was rolling his eyes behind Julian's back.

"Right," Joe said slowly, "Well, it's nice to meet you, Julian. I'm Detective West, Barry's foster father."

"Yes, right," Julian nodded, "I almost forgot. The Nora Allen murder. So kind of you to take in a boy who wasn't your own."

Joe gave the other man a strange look as Barry flushed slightly in discomfort. Very few people ever mentioned his family tragedy in such a casual, nonchalant way, especially people he had only just met. How did Julian even…?

"I make it a point to do extensive background checks on all of my colleagues," Julian explained matter-of-factly, "You can never know too much about the people you keep in your company."

Barry and Joe stared at him, Barry with his mouth hanging slightly open. Between reorganizing the lab and lecturing Barry about proper test tube cleaning technique, when had Julian found the time to run a complete background check on him?

"Uh, right," Joe said awkwardly after a moment, "Well, I was just here to see if Barry was ready for lunch."

"Yes," Barry ejected, reaching for his coat, "I'm ready. Let's go."

Before another word could be exchanged, Barry briskly made his way to the doorway of the lab.

"You coming?" he asked, when he turned to find Joe had yet to follow him.

Joe gave him a strange look and glanced back at Julian.

"Yeah," he said slowly.

He said a quick "bye" to Julian before following Barry out of the lab. For someone who was still recovering from a chemotherapy treatment, Barry sure could move fast.

Since getting his powers, Barry had always hated riding in cars. They were painfully slow, and every red light always made him want to bang his head against the dashboard. Now, he hated cars for different reasons. For one thing, they didn't do any favors for the chemo-induced nausea he now suffered from almost every hour of the day. For another, the trip home from work now seemed to take a lifetime, and all he wanted to do was get to the refuge of his bed.

"You should rest when we get home," Joe suggested when he side-glanced at Barry to see him stifling a yawn, "Today took a lot out of you."

For once, Barry didn't deny it. He nodded as he yawned again.

"Gee, I wonder why," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Julian isn't that bad, Bar," Joe chuckled.

"Are you kidding?" Barry scoffed, "He's insufferable! I didn't get anything done today with him around."

"He means well," Joe said gently, "I don't think he tries to come off as rude. He's just trying to help."

"That's easy for you to say," Barry huffed, "You didn't have to spend all day with him, listening to him drone on and on about proper pipetting techniques while he rearranged your lab chemicals."

"He touched your chemical stock?" Joe asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

He laughed and shook his head.

"God help him," he chuckled, "I know how you are about your chemicals."

"It was the one thing I requested he leave alone," Barry fumed, "And then he went out of his way to completely rearrange it when we left for lunch. It's almost like he was staking his territory, like he took my request as a challenge or something."

"I don't think he's intentionally trying to infuriate you, Bar," Joe assured him, still slightly amused, "He's just used to doing things his own way, the same way you are. The two of you aren't so different in that respect."

"When I first started there, I respected Southworth's workspace," Barry insisted, "I didn't rearrange anything in the lab until I had been there for nearly a year."

"And since then, you've become used to working alone," Joe pointed out reasonably, "You're not used to sharing the lab with anyone, so it's understandable it would take you some time to adjust to having a partner, but you're just going to have get used to it, Bar."

"I'm perfectly fine with sharing the lab," Barry refuted, crossing his arms, "But Julian isn't trying to be my partner. He's trying to be my superior. He rearranged my desk, Joe! And he spent the entire morning—"

"Barry, you already ranted to me about all this at lunch," Joe sighed, "I know Julian has a…headstrong personality, but you can't let that get to you. He's there to help you, and—"

"Exactly," Barry snapped, cutting him off, "He's there to help me with the workload so I don't become overstressed. That was the whole point of hiring another CSI for the department. The only problem is that Singh went and hired the most pompous, arrogant, condescending person he could have possibly found to help me out, and now I'm only more stressed out. Julian doesn't relieve my stress; he causes it."

"Just give it a few days," Joe suggested, "Julian will get settled in, and hopefully he won't be so overbearing once he finds his place at the CCPD."

"Oh, I think Julian has already made himself plenty comfortable," Barry said with a humorless laugh, "He's already taken over the entire lab and treats me like I'm some clueless intern or something. It's like he thinks he's my boss or something. You should have seen his face when Singh mentioned that Southworth was retiring. He's clearly interested in the director position opening up, and I swear, Joe, if Julian becomes the new director, I'm transferring to a different precinct. I've been a CSI there for five years, and Julian's only been working in the field for three, yet he acts like—"

"Barry," Joe sighed, rubbing his eyes, having heard most of this already at lunch, "It doesn't pay to get worked up over this. Everyone there knows you're an amazing CSI, and nothing Julian says or does is going to change that. You don't need to let his comments get to you."

Barry took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"You're right," he sighed, "I don't need to stoop to his level. I'll just be the bigger person and let my work stand for itself."

"Exactly," Joe nodded, a small smile on his lips, "It's like what I've always said: you never make yourself look good by making others look bad, and that's exactly what Julian's trying to do. Let him do his thing. You just do your work. Don't rise to his challenges, and he'll only make himself look bad by trying to undermine you all the time."

"So I'm supposed to just roll over and let him walk all over me?" Barry sighed, "I don't want to be a pushover either, Joe."

"I'm not saying you shouldn't stand your ground," Joe clarified, "I'm just saying don't let your temper get the best of you. You can let your voice be heard without raising it."

Barry took a deep breath and nodded. He then looked over at Joe and gave him a small smile.

"Did I ever tell you how wise you were, Joe?" he laughed.

A small chuckle escaped Joe's lips.

"Yes," he laughed, "But frequent reminders are always appreciated."