This AU comes from a conversation I had with a friend, and some prompts I got via tumblr. It is complete, in five parts, the next which will be posted soon. Hope you enjoy it.
A Great and Honorable Destiny
Eobard Thawne had had nearly a decade and a half to plan, to examine the various consequences of his actions, and what would come of them. Obviously, there would be ripples. He had to be certain that Barry Allen not only survived to become the Flash, but reached the required speeds, and survived actually being the Flash for long enough for Eobard to return home. It might doom this timeline, but as long as he wasn't in it, he didn't particularly care, and it might not end so catastrophically. Barry had woken from the coma, and with only slight nudging, accepted his powers and the urge to use them for good. The timeline was on track, the little team was coming together.
And then Caitlin Snow, face pale and brow wrinkled with concern, knocked on the office doorway after Barry and Cisco had gone off, presumably to their homes. Her hands shook, and he noticed, his sight sharp as ever behind the useless glasses, that they seemed stiff, shiny. Covered in frost flowers. That was supposed to come later. She shouldn't have been affected that strongly….He had known, of course, that Caitlin Snow would one day be one of the Flash's many enemies, Killer Frost. It had been one more way to ensure that Barry's team fell apart eventually—though it wasn't meant to happen until later.
This was a dilemma. If she turned on Barry, he would not be able to fight her—not her powers or the woman herself. Eobard had hoped—Gideon had not had much information on Killer Frost, not after the timeline changed. He'd hoped, in a way, that he'd delayed, or prevented it, as much for his own sake as the Flash's. It was a shame. He would be found out, eventually, or reveal himself at the right time, but now there was this. Just as Barry's powers were weakened by cold, so were his own. No, Killer Frost could not be allowed to choose either side.
"Caitlin, come in," Eobard touched the rim of his glasses, putting warmth into his voice. It was almost genuine. "Is something the matter? Did your car…?"
"Dr. Wells, I.." she started, her voice shivering as much as the rest of her. "I think I—there's something wrong with me, I can't control it, I can't…"
"Calm down," Eobard used the Voice of Reason he'd perfected, dealing with the children he'd had to guide towards the final product of the Particle Accelerator. "Perhaps some tea? And then you can tell me what exactly is wrong?"
Caitlin didn't notice that Eobard himself didn't touch the pitcher of milk he set out as she prepared two mugs of tea, though she cursed at herself when the water, once boiling, turned tepid as her fingers brushed the cup. She drained it anyway. Eobard smiled to himself as she explained the chill she'd been feeling, the way she could never get warm, the way the cool water she'd used to wash her hands had frozen.
"I was affected, too, wasn't I? By the explosion?" She turned her face to him, amber eyes bright with worry in her too pale face. Eobard shrugged, careful to keep the comforting look on his face smooth.
"It seems so. But don't, ah, fret, Doctor Snow. I'm sure that there is something that can be done. To help you."
"You saw what that gun did to Barry," Caitlin said, fear palpable. "I'm like that gun, now…" Her voice was starting to droop. Eobard reached forward, then noticeably hesitated. She flinched, and privately, Eobard smiled.
"Perhaps it would be for the best if you left for a time, Caitlin. Until you get this under control. We've seen the kind of accidents Barry has had, here. It would be a shame if someone got hurt because your own abilities …expressed themselves."
"Yes," Caitlin reached for her empty teacup, frowning, but shook her head. "Maybe…I can't just leave, but…"
"I may be in this chair, but I do have some connections. I know of someone—a doctor like yourself, actually. He may be able to help us come up with some ideas, to protect you, and the rest of us from you. Why don't you pay him a visit?"
Caitlin touched a hand to her forehead, then tried to stop a yawn. "I…"
"Let me call you a cab. You don't appear to be in any condition to drive." Two phone calls later, Eobard helped Caitlin into the back seat of a taxi, taking her keys for "safe keeping" and paid the driver in advance plus tip to ensure Caitlin Snow reached Dr. Hadley's office in Inglewood.
"You won't need to wait around." Eobard told him, smiling at the dazed Caitlin. "Drive safe."
The next day, Barry was overly busy with police work, something Eobard was grateful for and had in no way manipulated in his favor. Of course not. Still, there would be questions eventually, he knew that. The car had been easy enough to be rid of, a small suitcase packed, a resignation letter typed neatly left on a desk. But there would still be questions, particularly from…
"Cisco?" Eobard allowed himself the smallest of frowns. "If you're here to work on the suit, It's—"
"No, no, uh, that's not…That's not it." He, too, seemed shaky, almost twitchy. Eobard sighed.
"Come in, then," Eobard honestly couldn't tell what it was. Perhaps there had been another incident with his family—it was October, not yet time for a Thanksgiving disaster, nor a repeat of the last Christmas. Perhaps it was another round of guilt over the Cold gun. Eobard was beginning to tire of Cisco's guilt complex, though it did have its uses. "What brings you here, instead of—what was it you were planning? A Firefly Marathon?"
Cisco swallowed, tucking hair behind his ear in a nervous habit and almost…wincing at the movement. "I think there's something…going on."
Eobard stiffened. "With? Barry? Or has Snart returned?"
"Nothing like that, nothing…major." Cisco attempted a smile, but his voice seemed duller. No, simply softer. Dimly, a bell of recognition went off in Eobard's head, though he tried to shake that particular thought away. That was far too much of a coincidence, and as far as Eobard was concerned, there was no such thing.
"It seems pretty "major" if you are here on your day off, Cisco. Please, sit. What's troubling you? I may not be able to help, but…"
"The night the Accelerator exploded. I was right outside of it, with Caitlin. But the—the explosion went up, not out. So…There's no way that someone inside the building could have been affected. Right?" Cisco's eyes flickered up from his hands, so dark and afraid that Eobard was reminded of a hunted animal's.
"Anything is possible," Eobard said, his tone as non-committal as possible. "Though I doubt it. Why? What makes you so curious all of a sudden?"
"Me. I…I thought I was just…jittery. Too much coffee, or soda, but…I broke every glass in my apartment last night, and I mean that's only, like, three, but…"
Eobard's internal alarm bells sounded louder now, and he made effort to keep his breathing slow. "You did something? What?"
"Sonic… sonic blasts. And then, the other day, I—I wanted the TV quieter, I was reaching for the remote, but then it just. Went quieter. On its own. I don't know how, or why, or what's going on, but—All the metas we've seen so far have been—I mean aside from Barry, it's been people who have hurt people, and I don't want…" He seemed near tears.
Eobard closed his eyes, hoping for a look like pity, but internally groaning. It wasn't that much of a wonder he hadn't pieced it together, he had never actually fought Vibe. The kid had died before his jump. Eobard had been glad of that much—by all accounts, Vibe had, on occasion, been able to do the impossible. He'd been able to disrupt the very Speed Force that governed, as far as he could tell from years of study, every speedster's power. That was the older, more hardened, more experienced Vibe… but still the same Cisco Ramon. Loyal, good hearted, striving to see the best in people. If having Caitlin Snow stand against him had been unthinkable, unacceptable, this would be far worse.
And Eobard knew, when truth came to light, what would happen. Cisco may be loyal to Harrison Wells, but that loyalty would not extend to a time traveling murderer, no matter the justification. It wasn't in the boy's nature. He maneuvered the chair closer. Put a hand on the engineer's back. "Why don't you write down everything that's been strange, everything that might be some kind of…power. Trust me, Cisco, you are nothing like Mardon or Nimbus. Believe that, if nothing else. I'll be right back."
Cisco nodded, still shaking. "Thank you. Can we…not tell Barry, yet? I think…He's still kinda edgy, after…what I did."
"Of course, Mr. Ramon. Your secret is safe with me."
As Cisco started on the list, laying everything out neat and orderly, as if that would make it all make sense, Eobard left the room to make another phone call. Losing both Ramon and Snow would be a blow. He would need another pawn. Killing two birds, or rather three, with the same stone, seemed the best choice. Perhaps it was more checkers than chess. He dialed the number, a little heavy hearted, but knowing that it was better than the alternatives. He'd prefer not to get his own hands dirty, not now, not when there was an easier alternative. Pragmatism.
Cisco's list was finished, covering three sides of paper's worth of incidents and concerns. Eobard scanned it. Waking dreams that seemed real. Ringing in his ears. Sensitivity to sound. Manipulating sound. The same list repeated itself in a half month's worth of anecdotes.
"I do wish you'd come to me sooner," Eobard pulled every bit of fatherly comfort he had observed and stored away for reference from his core, every bit of Harrison that was still inside of him, who loved this child like his own son. Harrison Wells, ever the bleeding heart. Eobard usually couldn't stand the emotions those memories forced him to share, but they had uses. He pushed a cup of water into Cisco's hand. "Let's see what we can figure out. Shall we?"
Cisco drank a little, smiling thankfully before launching into an explanation that gradually slowed, punctuated with moments of confusion. Eobard watched, an eye on the clock, as Cisco paused, flexed his fingers, and continued. Line by line, he went through the List, his voice becoming more slurred until his hand brushed the wheelchair, and his entire body went rigid for a heartbeat. Two. Three. And then-
"You …drugged me?"
Damn.
Cisco fumbled for his pocket, no doubt reaching for his phone, no doubt about to call Barry. Eobard plucked the phone from his fingers, tossing it across the room.
"You always have been incredibly clever, Cisco. I've always said it."
There were footsteps in the hallway, heavy with the clank of metal. Steel toed boots. Eobard shook his head as Cisco noticed, trying to get his body to cooperate without luck.
"For what it's worth, I have enjoyed working with you," Eobard held the still half full glass to Cisco's lips. Cisco turned his head as much as he could, the drug dimming the fire in his gaze. Gone was the lost puppy confusion, only hurt and anger. "You should finish this. It's for the best, I'm afraid."
"No need for that, Wells." General Eiling's voice boomed. Cisco flinched, sudden adrenaline granting him some control, enough to lurch from his chair. It wasn't enough to prevent Eiling from grabbing him by the shirt collar, jabbing a dart into his neck. His struggling and the half-way coherent cry for help cut off.
"Remember," Eobard said firmly. "You get any of the metahumans I find for you, all of the data we have, and in return, I am in charge when it comes to the Flash. He is to be left to my studies, not yours."
"Of course. You really have changed, doc." Eiling smirked over his shoulder as he left.
"What do you mean, they're gone?" Barry demanded. Eobard spread his hands.
"The night you defeated Snart. Caitlin was shaken, quite badly, Mr. Allen. I think that she must have decided this was too much... She has been opening up, and I had hoped...but she's fragile, right now. The loss of Ronnie...Perhaps she will return, but she asked in her letter to be left on her own for a time. I believe she mentioned visiting—here." He pointed to the forged note. "Canada. Ronnie's family."
"But why would she leave without saying goodbye? And Cisco?"
"Caitlin Snow has never had much…luck with farewells, Barry. And as for Cisco…" Eobard removed his glasses and sighed. "Barry, There wasn't only a Cold gun."
"What?" Barry went dead still, even his near constant fidgeting stopping.
"I found blueprints, even a prototype, in STAR Labs storage for some kind of flame thrower, among other things. I hate to jump to conclusions, but the fact that Cisco is gone, without a note, and there were so many projects that I never approved…It seems I didn't know him as well as I thought I did."
"Cisco wouldn't…" Barry said, slowly, but Eobard saw the flicker of doubt there. In a way, perhaps it was good that the powers had manifested now, not six months down the road, too late to hide, too soon for Eobard to get home.
"If they want to return, they will, Barry. But I urge caution. You remember what Miss Smoak said, about Trust. Give them time, and perhaps Caitlin will come back to us. And perhaps Mr. Ramon will come to his senses, and earn that trust again. But it's not something that can be...rushed. Perhaps this is for the best."
Eobard felt the lightning in his eyes as Barry nodded slowly.
comments make the world go round. see you soon.