If You Can't Be With the One You Love

Pull the Plug

His head rested wearily on his fist, propped up by his elbow on the seat of the chair. On his other hand, his fingers clasped over Barry's motionless palm. He kept his eyes set on the man in front of him. His position had not changed in nearly three weeks nor had his condition. There existed no variation of expressions in his face. His head laid in the same spot, propped up on a pillow and tilted slightly away from where Oliver sat.

Oliver's daily routine hardly varied either. He woke up early in the morning, around six a.m, set things in line at the office, and left his hotel with a small bagel or pastry in hand. He solemnly would walk to S.T.A.R Labs. Iris constantly offered to pick him up and drive but Oliver felt as if he needed the fresh air. He needed the feeling of nature.

The pain had eaten away at him for so long that it was just apart of him now. It had completely consumed him. Most days he would stare at Barry for hours, the hope of his awakening becoming less and less by the day. The stares were no longer of hope. They were blank, numb glares of agony.

His nights were the same as well. He'd find a local bar and drown himself in draft after draft. Bartenders would try to pick up his spirits, even a few tried to seduce him into bed. He didn't respond. He would blankly stare into the abyss as the alcohol saturated into his bloodstream. He would drink until he couldn't see straight.

Barry was still in his every thought.

He heard footsteps come behind him and a soft hand was placed on his shoulder. A slightly shaky and distraught voice spoke into his ear. "May I speak with you for a moment?" It was Caitlin. Her lips curved downwards into a concerned frown. She motioned her head towards the the exit door. Oliver nods before lightly squeezing Barry's hand as he stands up and walks from the room.

As he walked out into the cortex, he was met by Iris. Barry's adoptive father Joe had slipped past Oliver, making his way into the medbay. Oliver watched as he shut the door behind him. He brought his attention back to Caitlin and swapped glances between her and Iris. Iris' cheeks were tear stained as Caitlin's were filling up with the little salt droplets. Oliver takes a deep breath before crossing his arms. As he speaks, his words come out with no emotion. "Is something wrong?"

"I spoke with Joe and Iris about this," Caitlin begins solemnly. She reaches out to grab Iris' hand assuringly as Iris tried to stifle her cries. "And they thought it was important to include you in on the decision as well."

Oliver looks at Caitlin with confusion. "What decision?"

"On whether or not take Barry off the ventilator." Iris replies in somber, crossing her arms and bringing her attention to the ground below her. "He's not improving."

Oliver bites his lip before allowing his jaw to slightly drop. He shakes his head in rejection. "No." He says stately. His voice becomes raised and filled with more emotion. "No!"

"He hasn't waken up yet, Oliver." Caitlin tells him sympathetically, a tear slowly rolls down her cheek. "There's nothing left that we can do for him."

Oliver feels his emotions begin to consume him. Rage ensues as he protests the notion. "He was in a coma for nine months four years ago and you're giving up hope after three weeks?"

"This is different." Iris tells him. "Caitlin would know."

"And you think this is the best option?" Oliver asks Iris, pain seething through his tone.

Iris nods before walking off in tears to join her father in the medbay. As Oliver remains in the cortex, he feels as if the walls were beginning to close in on him. It made him feel as if he was claustrophobic. He couldn't breathe. His mind became cloudy. He brought his hands to his forehead in hopes to silence the ringing in his ears.