Greetings! Apologies to all who were following this. Through comments I realized that I'd not been achieving what I was trying for with this story. I'm afraid I wrote it too fast and didn't take the time to properly edit it. That said, I've added and changed things around a great deal. Thanks to DoctorHarrisonWells and ScoobyIce8 for their input and feedback. I'm hoping that these updates will work better with the flow and get you the story I'd been trying for. That said, thanks for hanging in there and sorry you're having to re-read! Comments always welcomed. Not my properties and I make no monies from this. -CT

Chapter One: Joe

Some of the best things that happen to us in life are unplanned or unexpected or both. This was true for Detective Joe West. While he had never planned to become a foster father for Barry Allen, he had and his only regret was the pain that had caused it to happen. He'd never dream that Barry would be imbued with superpowers. Nor had he ever thought that he would become best friends with the Harrison Wells introduced by a singularity. He hadn't thought he would take his best friend out for a congratulatory lunch because Harrison had found out he was a father. Granted, the baby was a meta in need of a second source of DNA input and had chosen Harrison to be his father, but still the man was now a father. Perhaps the most unexpected and painful event was the attack by Hatley Rathaway and Harrison's abandonment of Joe.

All these thoughts rattled around in Joe's head as he finished up his daily round of physical therapy. Hartley's attack had left Joe seriously injured, in a coma, with damage to his spine. The doctors hadn't known if he would even wake up. They had told Iris that if Joe did wake, he would be quadriplegic. Through some miracle, Joe not only woke up, but had use of his arms. His spine was slowly healing and he was slowly but steadily regaining sensation and movement in his body. Currently he had control at about the mid-torso level, about half an inch above his belly button.

A ringing phone brought Joe out of his musings. "Hey HG," a voice answered. Joe recognized the voice of Katheryn Click. She was one of the physical therapists. Joe had worked with her once when Bobby, his usual therapist, had been sick. The name of the caller caught Joe's attention and he listened in to Katie's half of the conversation. "How are you doing?" There came a pause of silence. "I thought you were using an electric chair because of your shoulder. Uh huh. Yeah, I could work up some exercises that should help your shoulder if you want to go manual. Why don't you come on in tomorrow around three?"

There was some shuffling of paper and then a frustrated sigh. "Yes, I suppose I could e-mail them. HG you know I prefer to see my patients face to face. If you're having problems with your shoulder or issues with regression I want to see you." There was sincerity and frustration to the therapist's voice. She paused, apparently listening. "HG, I am not a fool. When we had our last session two months ago you reported tingling in your butt. We had also talked about getting you fitted for KFOs. Since our last session, you haven't been seen and now you need help with your shoulder. What is going on with you?"

There came a long silence and then another of her sighs. "Yes. I will send you the exercises but only if you promise you will at least let me come see you if you continue to have issues. Deal? Good."

"Hey Dad," Iris greeted Joe as she entered the room. "You all done?" She looked around, wondering if she needed to speak with anyone. Her father had been conscious for a little over two months, and they had been two long months. He'd asked about his best friend nearly every day. Every day Iris told the same lie - Harrison didn't want to see Joe because he blamed himself for Joe's condition. She wasn't sure how much longer her father would believe the lie or just let it go. For the time being, he was so busy trying to heal and relearn how to use his body, he usually accepted her answer.

"Yes, I am all done. Now, before I let you drive me anywhere, I want you to confirm that you are taking me to the precinct," Joe said, making a mental note to try calling Harrison later. He wasn't giving up on his best friend.

"Yes. I know. Your first day back. Remember, the doctor said only half days to start," Iris nagged. She started to push his wheelchair. Sighing, Joe dropped his hands into his lap.

"Man, I don't know how Harrison did this all day when we did those tests," Joe grumbled. "My arms are killing me. Think he'd give me some pointers?" He looked over his shoulder, catching the odd look on Iris's face. He waited until they were in the car before he decided to question her about it.

"Iris, I'm not a fool. What are you guys keeping from me about Harrison? I haven't seen him in nearly two months. He's my best friend. Why the hell can't I see him, talk to him, or even e-mail him?" Joe locked his gaze on his daughter as she navigated through the city.

"He had a hard time dealing when Hartley hurt you," Iris said. "He blames himself." It wasn't a complete lie. Dr. Wells was, more often than not, drunk now as he lived in house arrest. Iris had seen the footage. The man was a mess. When he wasn't drinking he was abusing himself physically in the most punishing workouts she'd ever seen. Cisco had showed her one day in an attempt to get Iris to go speak with the man.

How do you talk to a man who tried to kill your father? Hell, Harrison hadn't tried. He had succeeded. The doctors had been getting ready to declare Joe dead when his heart had started beating again. Iris had seen Dr. Wells inject something into her father's IV. Later when they confronted him about Joe's death he had admitted to trying. It had torn Barry up. Rather than tell Dr. Wells that Joe was alive, Barry let the man think Joe was dead. For a while the team had kept the scientist in the pipeline but that had stopped when Hartley had tried to reactivate the accelerator. That was when they'd found out that Dr. Wells was a meta-human. He'd used his powers to prevent the accelerator from activating, revealing himself to the team. It had been another nail in his coffin as far as Barry was concerned. He would never forgive the scientist.

Ultimately, Barry had agreed to put the man in house arrest and as far as Iris knew, her best friend hadn't looked back. Now, Dr. Wells lived in his home, cut off from the world. They had taken away his electric wheelchair and put a monitor on his ankle. If he tried to leave the house, Barry and the others would know. The monitor was also supposed to prevent him from using his powers. Cisco called it a "suppression cuff" and claimed it cast a "normal" net over metas. It had all been very confusing for Iris. Iris found herself hoping that her father wouldn't want to see Dr. Wells since the scientist had, abandoned him. It wasn't true, but it was close enough to the truth. For all Joe knew, Harrison had just stopped showing up.

"Sorry baby. Doesn't work for me," Joe declared. "I know when I am being lied to. I know when someone is hiding something. I will see my best friend." He gave Iris a determined look and then let the subject drop.

A few minutes later Joe nervously played with the wheels on his chair as he and Iris rode the elevator up to Capt. Singh. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. At first nobody seemed to notice as Joe wheeled himself out. He wasn't about to let Iris push him here. As he headed towards the Captain's office somebody started to clap. More people joined in and soon Singh was coming out of his office to greet Joe.

"So this is what a miracle looks like," Singh commented as the applause died down. "Come on back to my office. We'll talk." Nodding, Joe motioned for Singh to lead the way. As they entered Singh closed the door.

"I appreciate you letting me come back to work," Joe began after a moment of silence.

"Are you sure you're ready to come back?" Singh rested gently against his desk.

"Captain, I can't keep sitting around waiting for my body to heal. I need to be doing something." Joe shifted in the wheelchair. "Everyday I regain a little bit more control of my body. I would like to see something similar happening with my life."

"Okay. Try to see it from our point. Two months ago you were in a coma. We were told you wouldn't be coming back. This," Singh motioned at the wheelchair, "Joe, this is far from the quadriplegic man I expected to be speaking with."

"Give me a few more weeks and I'll be walking in here," Joe declared confidently. "Look, Captain, I understand that you have to put me on limited duty. Hell, give me paper work. I don't care. Just let me do something."

Sighing, Singh stood to his full height, moving around to his desk chair. "Alright. The next three days you're on desk duty. There's a new vigilante out there. Your job is to get any and all intel on him you can." Singh pointed at a folder at the edge of his desk. Reaching out, Joe took it and started paging through it.

"A vigilante?" Joe paused at a photograph. It was blurry and difficult to make anything out. "This guy popped up what, a week after I was attacked by Hartley?"

"Yeah. Interestingly, his first act was catching Hartley and a group of thugs the kid had hired." Singh sighed, sitting back in his chair some. "Joe, this one is weird. I mean, the Flash, I get it, he's really fast. This one though. Nobody has actually seen anything. People on the street are calling him 'Ghost' and 'Blur.' I need something on this."

"Has he killed anyone?" Joe hadn't seen anything in the reports so far.

"Nope." Singh said with a shake of his head. "He's stopped three muggings, one rape, and a number of break ins as well as responding to two car accidents. At the accidents the survivors say he just sort of appeared in the car. Next thing they knew, they were safely on the grass away from their vehicles."

"Are we certain he is a he?" Joe paused on one report. After a moment he started reading it, "His voice was not a single voice. It was like a whole bunch of people talking at once, starting out kinda fuzzy and then clearing up." Arching an eyebrow, Joe frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Look, just do the best you can for now," Singh declared. "There's plenty of stuff online. I think your daughter has been put on it as well. Maybe ask her if she has anything or knows anyone who does."

"Yeah, right." Sighing, Joe dropped the folder into his lap and turned his chair, heading back out into the precinct. At least he was doing something. Really though, he'd been assigned a ghost.