Here's a new fanfic, everyone! So soon after the Season 2 finale of the Flash, I've just been dying for Barry Allen to return to our screens. Here's something new I wrote, the chapters will be long but few. PLEASE leave me a review, lovely people, and favorite/follow! I don't own anything related to the CW or the Flash.

"Make an immediate left, Barry!" Cisco spoke excitedly through the receiver into Barry's com in the flash suit.

"Got it, Cisco!" he heard the streak's voice through the receiver, "How much farther?"

"Almost there!"

"Do I make a right now?"

"No."

A moment passed.

"Now?"

"Not yet."

Cisco watched as Barry was speeding through the streets of Central City.

"Now?"

"Now!"

He saw the red dot on the screen make a quick right on the monitor, "Nice!"

"Thanks, Cisco!" Barry laughed through the other end, "That was close."

"You're doing better, dude," Cisco encouraged, "this practice sesh has been your best yet!"

Barry dipped into an abandoned alley and screeched to a stop. He smiled happily, he was proud of himself, he was mastering the quick turns at full speed. Barry reached up and pulled down the red mask that protected his identity.

The clouds rumbled above, it looked like it was going to rain. Weird, he thought skeptically. Central City had relatively good weather-besides the fact when a giant dark matter storm engulfed the whole city and a bolt of electricity struck him and gave him the powers and that he was gifted with now.

He heard a shuffle behind him. Barry whipped his mask on and turned around. The minute his eyes hit the man's face, he felt his entire body relax. The strange man was wearing all black and his hair was a silver grey. He had tanned skin and his skin was lined from the seeing the sun too long. But his eyes were absolutely mesmerizing. They were a blue green one minute then they gradually turned orange to yellow. Barry immediately was attracted to them, he couldn't take his eyes off of the stranger's eyes. They trapped him like a fly in a web. He would do anything when he was looking into them, if this man asked him to jump he would say, "how high?"

"Flash," the seductive voice purred. Barry was entranced, he turned round and faced the man entirely.

"I'm-I'm-I can't-"

"Don't speak, Flash," the tall stranger continued to speak languidly.

Barry closed his mouth quickly.

"Good," he smiled smugly, "don't move, you stand right there."

The young CSI felt his feet become planted to the ground. He did not want to move-never, not unless this man told him he could.

"Yes, sir," he said automatically.

"Do you want to move, Flash?" the man smirked.

"No."

"Good," he crossed his arms. The stranger was wearing a black peacoat with black trousers and boots, "I want you to reach and pull out the receiver that is on your mask."

There was a small nagging thought at the back of his mind but he quickly pushed it away. Barry reached back and pulled out the wired receiver connected to his mask. Now Cisco or the team wouldn't have any communication or sensor on Barry at all-it would be like he just disappeared.

"Step on it."

Barry threw it to the ground and crushed it with his foot. Those sparkling eyes still stared deep into his own.

"Now, Flash, I want you to take off your mask."

"What?" he said, and cringed. You are disobeying him, Barry, that's wrong. He wants you to take off the mask, you do it.

The man's eyes narrowed and it seemed like their power escalated. The hesitation in Barry quickly melted away and he pulled on seam of the mask from under his hairline. The object that had protected his identity for so long was thrown to the floor, Barry's face was fully exposed.

"Flash, do you have a team or a place that you go to for your intel?"

"Yes," Barry said freely, "Dr. Caitlin Snow who is a brilliant scientist and she usually addresses me when I'm injured, Dr. Harrison Wells who initially created the particle accelerator explosion, and Cisco Ramon, the tech genius who builds all the gadgets and equipment. We all work at STAR Labs."

"STAR Labs, I should've known," the stranger said under his breath, "stay absolutely still, I want a good look at you," he said.

Barry listened, he did not move-he did not even breath.

The strange man looked at Barry's innocent and light eyes, scanned his trimmed brown hair, admired his athletic physique, and rested on that burgundy suit that had been streaking across town.

"Beautiful," the man nodded approvingly, "Flash, you are a handsome young man. What's your name?"

"F-Flash?" Barry scolded himself again internally. Barry, stop disobeying him!

"No," the man glared at him this time and his eyes glittered even more, "I want your real name."

"Barry Allen," he said without hesitation.

"Barry Allen?" the stranger rolled the words over his tongue, his eyes never left Barry's, "I like it. Now, Mr. Allen, I want you to do something for me."

"Anything," The Flash was entranced.

"I want you to not speak a word of our encounter, not a single word. You will put your mask back on, you will run back to your lab, you will tell your team that your receiver fell out while you were running, and you will never mention me under any circumstances-I don't care if you're dying," his eyes flashed and Barry winced, "But, Barry, there's something that I want to change with you."

"Tell me," he asked eagerly.

"I want to get rid of this gung-ho, hero attitude of yours, it's rather very annoying and inconvenient. Tomorrow at 3:30 PM to go to the Central City bank and steal $500,000 from the vault; with your speed it's a quick in and a quick out. You then meet me at the warehouse on 42nd Street. Make sure you wear your suit, I want people to know it's you-stop by a few cameras if you can for a good picture in the paper too," the man snarled, "you will bring me the money and await further instructions, understood?"

"Perfectly," Barry smiled, he was looking forward to robbing the bank. Anything this man wanted he would do in a split second, "but what about my team monitoring me through my receiver?"

"Get rid of it, I don't care how but make it convincing," the stranger was taking steps back, he was slinking into the shadows of the alley, "we will meet again soon, Mr. Allen and I will have the Flash bending to my will."

He laughed evilly before disappearing completely.

"Wha-?" Barry looked around, he was standing in an empty alleyway. A massive headache racked his brain and he immediately put this fingers to his temples .He remembered he had stopped here to talk to Cisco but he couldn't really remember anything after that. It was like someone plucked him out of his conscious and put him right back two minutes later with an earthquake rattling his mind, "Cisco?" he tried to press the button for the receiver in his ear but there was nothing there except a faint ringing. Barry heard a crack under his foot and he saw what was left of the com-a few wires and sparks.

"How did that happen?" he spoke softly to himself and bent down to pick apart the carcass of the communication device, he felt lightheaded from just doing that "It must've fell out while I was running I'm sure." He felt absolutely positive of it, that was what had happened to it no doubt.

Barry slipped his mask off his face and ran a hand through his brown hair. The pounding in his head was getting louder and he was getting tunnel vision. The training exercise must've worn his out but he had eaten enough Cisco Bars to last him. He was tense for some reason-anxious. The stormy sky still covered the city and thunder rolled off the clouds loudly. I'd better head back to STAR Labs.

Barry zipped through the streets, his orange lightning flying off of him. He felt off for some reason, his head continuously hurt and he was going to go to Caitlin immediately to check it out. My eyes burn too, ow. Barry tried to keep them open but it was like someone had poured soap right onto them. His gloved fingers went up instinctively to rub them out but with his eyes closed Barry swerved and went flying into the streets.

"Whoa!" he yelled as his eyes watered and oncoming traffic was speeding over to him, "I can't see, Cisco, help!" But he remembered the receiver was broken. Barry lunged and dived to avoid getting run over by the cars but as he rounded a corner, virtually unable to see, something with the force of a dump truck slammed into him. The Flash went flying, all types of shapes and colors swimming before his irises as his back connected with the brick wall 500 feet away with a crack.

He was hit. A car ran into him and sent him flying like a paper airplane. He knew immediately that his leg was broken and a few vertebrae were no doubt damaged. The mask cut into his swelling features and his suit was dusty and cut with blood. He heard car doors closing and people shouting in shock as the bricks came falling down around him when his body plugged a huge gaping hole into the side of a brick building.

"What was that?!"

"What did you hit?"

"It's the Flash!"

"I didn't hit him!"

"Someone, call for help!"

Barry groaned and rolled on the floor as mortar and bricks came spilling down around him like rain. He had opened his stinging eyes just enough to see a giant brick becoming bigger and bigger as it took a one-way trip to his face. He dodged it as fast as he could but it still scored the side of his cheek and eye. Barry exclaimed in pain.

I need to get back, Barry's mind moved at a hundred miles a minute as new adrenaline coursed through his veins.

Despite all the history he had with Harrison Wells (mainly because of Eobard taking his body), Barry thought of Harry from Earth 2 and Jay back at STAR Labs. They were like his mentors, other than his two father figures Henry and Joe. Harry and Jay, although holding deep dislike for one another, were two people he was sure he could trust and look to to learn.

Get up, Barry, he heard Jay's deep voice in his ringing ears.

The speedster hauled himself on shaky feet. There were lights, sirens, and shouts coming from the opposite side of the gaping hole in the brick wall he had made with his body. The last thing he had seen before being chucked like a football was the street sign "Central Ave". That meant STAR Labs was north towards uptown. Barry looked around him, his legs wobbly and his vision swimming. His back was hunched in an unnatural and pained position because of the probable dislocations in his spine and his right leg was dragging limply across the gravel.

"How am I going to make it back?" Barry could hear the shuffle of people coming closer.

There was no choice but to run. On a broken leg.

Barry took a deep breath, closed his red burning eyes and took a go.

He made it round the corner before he crashed and tumbled to the floor, his leg springing up painfully behind him. He did a full head tilt, the nape of his neck hitting the concrete flooring and he yelled into his elbow to keep the screams from attracting people to the dark strip of street he had found himself upon.

His suit was cut in several places, blood seeping from the various scratches on his body. The leg was bent awkwardly in an upwards angle and Barry tried to think of a makeshift splint he could wrap it up in. The blue and red flashing sirens illuminated the wall a little ways from him, and he knew it wouldn't be long before the police came snooping around to his small sanctuary.

Barry's head felt like it was having a migraine 10 times over. His eyes still felt like they were being burned out with acid and he needed to keep them closed for some relief. His temples were about to burst and his entire body had gone through the ringer.

Both Harry and Jay's voices echoed in his mind.

With his eyes closed, the injured speedster was feeling the asphalt under his fingertips for some sort of material to use as a makeshift splint. In the movies there was conveniently some bubble wrap and pieces of cardboard to wrap it up but this wasn't Hollywood. His fingers found a large way piece of aluminum from an old sign and another splintering piece of wood that would be unproportionate but he had to make do. He was also blessed with a stretchy bungee cord that would wrap around his calf a few times hopefully. Now, the hard part.

Barry gripped his lower leg carefully in both fingers, the muscles feeling tender under his rapidly mending skin. It would take a few hours-maybe all night-to fully heal. With his mouth buried into his shoulder, Barry closed his eyes and quickly flicked his wrists. The bones twisted beneath his skin and indignantly slid back into their relative positions. The Flash's yells were muffled once more.

What's happening to me?" he thought wearily.

And of course the cops were coming in his direction.

Of course.

The CSI resourcefully placed the aluminum and the wood pieces on each side of his leg and elevated a little to wrap the bungee cord around his calf. It took him a few tries because the job was tedious in the dark, his head and body felt like they were going to explode, and the delicate tissue and bone flared in fiery pain every time he made a slight movement.

Hurry up, hurry up! he willed himself and finally his fumbling fingers made a tight enough splint to temporarily support his broken leg.

Flashlights were nearing and Barry knew it was now or never. He set both feet on the ground regretfully and burst into a run.

He shouted in pain and effort, determination flooding his veins as he would make it back to STAR Labs. There was no way he was going to stop or he'd never start again. Orange lightning crackled off his racing body as he hobbled (at 145 mpH) down the streets up north. He dodged traffic as his leg would allow but to anyone on the outside it would look like the Flash running but like a penguin and at a lot slower than usual.

"You can do it, Barry, come on, come on!" he urged himself to move forward. There was no time to lose. The corners of his vision were turning black with exhaustion and pain. The leg tagged along as his left leg took all the support and burned with exertion. The large circular STAR Labs building loomed ahead of him.

Barry never thought he would be so happy as to see those glass doors ahead of him with the logo in white writing. He felt his stinging eyes start to close and his body sway as his mind hurt like it did before when he was running pre-accident.

Images of Joe, Caitlin, Iris, Cisco, Harry, Patty, Jay, and Felicity racked his mind. Staying awake was his mission. If he couldn't do that then how was he to defeat Zoom?

The Flash burst through the doors like water from a dam. His mind was already fading and the world was twirling beneath his injured feet and body. He couldn't tell up from down and Barry was aimlessly speeding through the hallways until he fell back and his body crashed against the floor. He tried to open his eyes once again to see if he was safe or make a sound to signal someone but nothing came out. His internal and external pain radiated throughout his whole body and he could see some blood start to pool beneath him. The lights above swirled sickeningly in a clock-wise rotation.

The world went black in swirling chaos.

Harry was walking through the grey concrete halls of STAR Labs, a Big Belly Burger to-go bag in his hand. He was taking a sip out of his large fountain drink. His glasses were perched on his nose and navy blue cap on his slightly curly black hair. The day was overcast so he was clad in his black trench coat and his usual obsidian color long sleeve and pants.

It had been quiet for now. Ever since Zoom's first attack on this Earth and when he broke Barry's back, there had just been the usual meta-attacks. Nothing that the team couldn't handle. He wondered where everyone was. Maybe it was good that they stayed out of the way because Harry had only bought enough food for Jesse and him. He would need to steer clear of Ramon.

When he rounded the corner, the sight that greeted him was enough for him to drop the drink from his hand. He didn't even fully absorb what he had seen but immediately he let the to-go bag slide from his grip. Barry was lying sprawled on the floor, a sizable pool of blood was spilling from beneath him. His leg was supported by an awkward looking splint and his face was scratched and bleeding. The Flash was motionless.

"Barry?" Harrison sprinted down to the CSI's side and kneeled down. His skin was cold and caked with drying blood, "Barry, can you hear me?" his voice was urgent but the speedster wouldn't wake up. His voice echoed off the walls gravely. Where was everyone? Who knew how long Barry would've been here if he hadn't walked along. To the right of him on the concrete wall was the fire alarm. He pulled the lever down with three fingers and an alarm resonated through the whole complex. Red and white flashing lights illuminated the dim halls and he could hear some commotion down the halls, "Ramon, Snow! Get down here, now!"

Garrison Paul watched with sickening amusement. He was the one who had done this to the Flash. He was the one who had manipulated his bendable mind to his own will in revenge. It was out of bitterness and envy that the Scarlet Speedster would pay for his actions. Garrison looked on from his old warehouse on the street cameras of Barry Allen, the Flash, running through the streets helplessly as the after-effects of his powers caught up to him. It was intentional.

"You think you're so powerful, Mr. Allen?" Paul watched with satisfaction as the car collided with the red speedster and he was sent flying into a brick wall in the distance. Electricity zipped off him rapidly as he was cut off mid-run, "Try me."

Garrison was an aspiring therapist who worked with the mentally ailing patients at Central City Psychiatric. He was always told in the past that he had voice like silk and he could always talk his way out of a situation. His parents always pushed him to be a lawyer or a politician and use his voice to help the public, but Garrison Paul wanted to help society in a different manner. As a therapist, he would have the benefit of aiding the mentally insane who never had a second chance to fit in with society after being alienated because of their slight faults. It was wrong, and he was in the middle of hypnotic therapy with a patient-on the verge of breakthrough-when the freak storm hit. A wave swept through the facility and killed the patient he was working with, Garrison nearly died himself before he woke up in a hospital in a full-body cast. It took him almost two years to heal, nothing was too majorly damaged because he was flipped over during the wave and the desk protected him thankfully, but he knew something had changed. Everything he wanted, asked for, or thought about was answered instantaneously by anyone around him. He was just thinking about ice chips when an orderly came in 30 seconds later with a small cup full of them. It scared him when once a short-tongued nurse was yelling at a young girl for walking the halls without her parent and he whispered under her breath to give herself an injection of Eszopiclone, a sedative he used on patients, and she walked to the medicine cabinet locked in his room and actually was about to pull the needle on herself. It wasn't until Garrison yelled for her to stop that she snapped out of it and walked away like it was nobody's business.

He vowed to never use his speech powers again, afraid of what might happen ever since the explosion at STAR Labs. Little by little, however, he used them for small things like free gum at the gas station or an extra pump of espresso in his coffee free of charge. But his addiction kept growing, the favors growing bigger and more out of control. This new gift was consuming him, corrupting his nature. Garrison decided to use his abilities at the facility to help his patients but their minds weren't like the normal ones of society. There was something a little off with their brains, like they were more in tune. He thought of it like the mentally ill minds operated at a more acute frequency than regular minds and it made it harder for them to listen to his convincing words.

Garrison, now used to the easy cooperation of people, grew frustrated with one patient who kept denying his words. He told him something bad, something very bad. His anger made his abilities escalate and the power of his words finally pulled through. The patient ended up killing himself that night because of the horrible things Dr. Paul had planted into his mind. Living with this unimaginable guilt, he was fired his job in therapy and ended up getting evicted from his house after he couldn't find a stable job to pay the rent.

Then he saw the Flash. That young speedster, who had been struck just like Garrison, pulled out on top. While he was suffering and miserable, the Flash was running the streets like some sort of hero locking away all the other so-called "meta-humans" that were probably just like him. Garrison spent all of his life trying to help those isolated from society, the "freaks," and he ended up becoming one himself. It was time for the Scarlet Speedster to learn that not everyone can get a happy ending and that everyone's mind is easily bendable if you play around with it a little.

He caught the Flash, he was in his trap. Tomorrow, Mr. Barry Allen/the Flash would no longer be a national hero but a criminal. The Central City Bank would be in for a treat at 3:30 PM the next day as the man who was meant to save them would now be the one who ruined them.

It's time you see how to play the real game, Barry.

Till next time! Ch. 2 will be released soon!