Out of Focus
By: Rhuben
Full Summary: [Sequel to In a Flash, second in Blindsided Series] "You can't depend on your judgement when your imagination is out of focus." Six months after closing the singularity, Central City continues to be exposed to meta-humans, and Team Flash continue to be haunted by the deaths of two of their own. While Barry seeks stability, he finds himself stumbling as his speed starts to fluctuate at the worst times. Jay Garrick arrives in Central City, and Barry is hesitant to believe what he says about Earth-2. He's also hesitant to believe that he's seeing the doppelgänger of not only Harrison Wells, but a friend he thought he lost. In her final months of probation, Averey must navigate Team Flash and the meta-human world that moved on without her. Stuck between being a normal law-abiding citizen and becoming a hero, she tries to keep the eyes of Central City off her to fly under the radar. Unfortunately, due to her familial line and her past in the Royal Flush Gang, she's already been overexposed. Accepting and relying on her criminal background may be the best course of action. As Cisco's "vibe memories" come more frequently, he fears what he can become. When he's pushed to be more than just a computer nerd, and being more than the baby brother of the great Dante Ramon, he finds it harder to connect with someone on the same wavelength as him. Easier said than done; especially when the alternative is to fully reconnect with his brother. Then the powerful Zoom arrives; bringing with him meta-humans stronger than they've faced before, including a disgruntled speedster carrying the face of their past. Can Barry keep the team together when Central City faces the greatest obstacle; losing faith in the Flash?
Rating: T
Pairings: Spallen, WestAllen, SnowJay, HawkVibe, Cisco/OC
Chapter One: Stop and Stare
Shaking off a punch, Averey Moore's eyes snapped open.
Ducking under a jab, elbows positioned close to her ribs, fingers curled into a fist inside her black and pink gloves, she reacted quickly. Angling her body sideways, she snapped her leg backwards. The ball of her foot struck the blow. Settling back into a defensive stance, she blocked the punches coming rapidly towards her face.
Keeping her gloves up, she narrowed her eyes, slowly blinked, and movement slowed. A red glove swung in an uppercut motion towards her jaw, the other pulling back for a quick follow up strike leaving the chest wide open. Blinking again to correct her vision, Averey stepped forward in a burst attack. She blocked the punches, grabbing onto her opponents' shoulders. Driving her knee upwards, she struck them in the stomach. She threw in a jab, a hook, and feigned a second knee strike. Wrapping her leg around her opponent's, she stepped back quickly. Her opponent hit the ring floor with a whack!
Stuffing a glove into her armpit, Averey removed her hand to take out her mouth guard. Spitting, a glob of saliva (slightly tinged red) hit the floor. Taking in a deep breath of air, she leaned back against the red and blue ropes.
"Game over. Now get out of here, Melanie." she commanded. Using the back of her hand, she started massaging her jaw. How she didn't see the punch coming, she didn't know. That made her more frustrated than anything. "And I hope you realise, after that sucker punch, I was trying real hard not to throttle you, mate." Chest lifting and falling, she caught her breath. She dragged her forearm across her forehead. It did little to wipe away the sweat as her arm was covered in it.
Melanie Walker brushed her sweaty blonde hair out of her bright red face. She pulled herself up into a seated position. Spitting her mouth guard out of her mouth, it bounced across the ring. Fixing Averey with a piercing stare of her blue eyes she said, "Look. Can we talk about this?" She pulled her knees to her chest before standing.
"You agreed," Averey said, turning away from her to climb out from between the ropes. Feet hitting the gym floor, she made her way to the bench. Her gym bag sat waiting for her. "If I won, you'd leave Central City without another word, yeah?"
"I lied."
Averey snorted. "Something you've always been good at, I reckon." She dug through her bag for her towel. Running the coarse fabric over her face, sweat gathered from her face and hair. lacing it around her shoulders. Hooking her thumb under the strap of her sports bra, she removed it from digging into her collar bone and hooked the towel around her neck. Sitting down on the bench she started removing the straps to the protective gear on her legs. "Why am I so surprised?"
Melanie sneered. "You're not exactly the picture of truth here, Eight," she replied, ducking between the ropes. Allowing her body to teeter off the edge of the ring, she jumped to the ground. Averey ignored her. "As if you've never lied before." All annoyance left her face. Crossing the room to the bench Averey was sitting on she said, "All I'm asking for is your help."
"Just like I asked you for help when I was arrested?" Melanie pressed her lips together and Averey burst out laughing. "Yeah, right! I'm not that much of an idiot. Anymore." Stretching her now bare legs in front of her, Averey reached for her water bottle. Melanie sat down next to her. Averey tilted her head back and took her time drinking her water.
"You got out, didn't you? Your police friend helped."
Removing the water bottle from her mouth, Averey slapped her hand on top of the spout, and said, "Yeah, and look where that got him." She pulled her towel up over her face in the guise of wiping her face down a second time. She had been doing a good job not thinking about Eddie, too. Shaking her head repeatedly, she tried not to think about that night, not to have it play out in front of her again. But, it was already too late.
Clutching tightly to Barry strong winds whipped past her, trying to suck them into the singularity as it continued to grow by the second. Debris bounced and clattered against the floor of the particle accelerator. The giant machine was breaking and tearing apart around them. Iris's pleads and screams of anguish echoed in her ears. Desperately, Iris tried to get out of her dad's grasp, reaching for Eddie's body being pulled across the floor. His limp body mixed in with the debris and was pulled higher, and higher off the ground until he disappeared out of sight. All the while, Iris kept screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming.
Shuddering, the vision broke into pieces, fading away until all she saw again was the white of her towel. Roughly pulled the towel away from her face, she shoved it into her bag.
"I'm sorry," Melanie said, her voice dropping to a soft tone. "I heard about what happened on the news." Out of the corner of her eyes, Averey could see Melanie watching her closely. "He was a good friend of yours, wasn't he?"
"Not anymore." Getting to her feet, she made sure she had all her belongings. Removing a t-shirt from her bag, she pulled it over her head. The material stuck to her sweaty body. Walking through the halls to the front of the gym, she started removing the braids in her hair. "Hey, Chuck, I'm checking out."
"No problem." Chuck gave a nod before reaching for a sheet of paper with the company letterhead on it. "Will I see you next week for another lesson?" After quickly scribbling down a note, writing the date, time, his signature, and stapling a business card to it, he handed it to her. Taking his pen, she signed her signature in a quick flourish before sliding the paper into her bag.
"I don't know yet, but I'll let you know."
"Sure. I'll see you when I see you."
Removing a pair of sunglasses from the side pocket of her bag, Averey slid them over her eyes before turning and heading out the door. The afternoon sun warmed up her skin, the goosebumps from the gym's air conditioning disappearing. Melanie stuck by her side the whole way. Annoyingly so. "Don't you have a bus to catch?"
"Not until you hear me out," Melanie insisted. "You know my brother – "
"Axel Walker, aka Trickster Jr.?" Averey asked. She had to hold back a laugh. She had known him sort of personally at a point in time. Twisting her mouth to the side, she glanced up the street, looking around for a streak of red, and yellow lightning that she knew she wouldn't see. It had been six months since she had last managed to see the Flash in person, but it was a habit to check. "No, I've never heard of him."
"Funny," Melanie said flatly. "I'm being serious. Axel doesn't belong in Iron Heights with those guys. He just got mixed around with a bad group." She grabbed Averey's elbow, trying to get her to stop walking. "He was working with me in Gotham. Things were going well for him; he was keeping up with rent, got promoted at work, and then one day I see his face on the news."
"Not my problem."
Melanie's tone took on frustration. "If it weren't for me, you and your friends here wouldn't have been able to hack any security system." She jabbed herself in the chest with her finger. "I perfected that with my family back in Gotham and it spread to other cells of the Royal Flush Gang."
Removing her elbow from Melanie's grasp, Averey stopped walking. "So, I owe you now, yeah?" she asked. She could at least give Melanie credit for keeping her voice down as they spoke. "Good luck explaining that one to me."
Melanie put her hands up defensively before putting them together in a prayer's position. "I'm just asking you to hear me out," she said. "We used to be roommates. Friends, even. We could rely on each other, and I need that right now." Her shoulders lifted. Slowly, she took in a deep breath of air before releasing it. "Please. For my brother. I know how important family is to you and it is to me, too. If he's really close with this Trickster guy, then he's in big trouble. I think I could appeal his case if we can prove that he was being manipulated. Brainwashed. He's not himself. That guy on TV was not him."
"You know all about manipulation," Averey said, starting to walk again, "surely you can figure out how to reverse it whenever you visit him at – " Her stomach dropped. She went from angry to nauseous in a second when a beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep sounded. "Iron Heights." Twisting her right leg, she glanced down at the orange light blinking on the ankle monitor strapped to her. "Shit! I gotta go. I gotta go!"
"Here." Melanie dug into her bag and removed what looked like a small playing card, shoving it into Averey's hand. She pushed it back and Melanie stuffed it into the side pocket of Averey's bag. Barely glancing at it, Averey spotted that the suit on the card was a 10 of spades. A part of her was amused at the design on the business card. "Just take it. If you change your mind, call me. Go! Run!"
Knowing she didn't have any time to argue any longer, Averey took off running. Gym bag bouncing off her side, her feet slapped against the pavement. Her sunglasses slid up and down her nose with each step, breath coming out in puffs. Darting around pets, strollers, slow walking groups, and families with screeching kids (some on leashes), she tore through the streets of Central City. Unfortunately, she wasn't running fast enough to miss the reactions to her ankle.
She hated the stares, whispers, and points.
I bet Barry never had to deal with this, she thought, her chest starting to burn.
Her exercise routine had decreased significantly in the past six months compared to the constant meta-human attacks she'd rush out for. Going to the gym to work out, or the park for some time to play soccer didn't keep her as in shape compared to when she was out as Visionary. She shook her head, nearly throwing herself off balance at the sudden movement. Don't think about it, Ave. You don't work at S.T.A.R. Labs anymore.
Beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep.
"I KNOW! I KNOW!" Bowing her head and pushed herself forward. Heart hammering in her chest, throat tightening, she tried to bring in as much air into her lungs as possible. Her townhouse came into view. Running on the sides of her feet she made a sharp right turn into the driveway, skirted past the Kingston Konstruction truck, took the stairs up to the door two at a time and burst into the foyer shouting, "Outlet! Outlet! Outlet!"
The townhouse was a lot smaller than the house she had grown up in, but it still had enough space for the three of them. In fact, in some ways it felt more secure with the smaller space, compared to other places she had stayed, especially her last townhouse where she never knew who would show up at the door. It was a modern styled home filled with dark wood, blacks, greys, and whites reminding Averey, in an ironic way, where she could have ended up. Comparatively with the open design of the home, more natural light entered home. More light than she knew she'd get while imprisoned.
"Living room."
Dropping her bag at her feet, Averey quickly pulled off her shoes before stepping up the small flight of stairs to her left, and up into the main open area. With the dining area to her left-one side of the sturdy wooden table with bench seating, all other sides surrounded by chairs—she hurried through the serving area, through the kitchen which housed a with a second dining table and a center island complete with three backless stools, and into the sunken living room.
Sliding across the hardwood floor, she grabbed out of midair the adaptor that was thrown at her, and plugged it into the wall, scrambling for the jack at the other end. "Come on, come on." In her rush, she repeatedly jabbed the jack around the device's insertion point before she finally jabbed it into its socket with a little click, and the beeping stopped. "Got ya!" Falling onto her back in relief, keeping her leg elevated against the wall, she tried to catch her breath. "That was close." She closed her eyes focusing on catching her breath. Two and a half weeks. Just two and a half weeks.
"Nice landing, Aviator." Opening her eyes, she realized she still had her sunglasses on and pushed them up her forehead. Angling her head, she watched her step-father, Daniel Kingston, cross the living room, leaving his seat on the semi-circle settee to sit down beside her. Pressing his back against the wall, he stretched his legs out in front him, making himself comfortable. "Closest call so far, yeah? You get an eight out of ten for style on the slide, but four out of ten for timing." Locking eyes with Daniel, Averey felt herself smile before the two of them started laughing. "At least you made it on time."
"I find nothing funny about this, Averett." Their laughter stopped immediately and Averey sat up, twisting at the waist to face her mom, Ellie Kingston. On her knees on the couch cushion, she faced her daughter, hands tightly gripping a mug, steam rising into the air. "Now's the time to really take this seriously. You could lose your Earned Leave if you're not careful."
"Oooh, she full named you," Daniel commented, before giving his wife an apologetic smile in response to hard stare she was now sending in his direction. "Since you'll be down there for the next hour, do you want me to get you anything? Your computer?"
"And anti-itch and a cotton bud." Averey laid back down on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. "Thanks heaps." She snapped her fingers. "Oh! In my bag, I have proof I was at the gym. Could you scan it, please?"
"You got it, kiddo." Daniel patted her hand before lifting himself from the floor. He stopped to give Ellie a kiss on the cheek before crossing to the back corner of the living room open to a set of stairs, leading to the upper levels. His thudding footsteps fading as he went.
Averey sighed through her nose. In two and a half weeks, her six months of house arrest was up. And she didn't know how to feel about it.
On the one hand, she was relieved that finally she wouldn't be tethered to her own home. She could walk outside without stares and points, she didn't have to worry about rushing to be back home at a certain time. She could go get Big Belly Burger instead of ordering pizza. On the other, she was also hesitant about going back out into the world she had been isolated from for so long.
Must be what dad feels like, she found herself thinking more often. Only without the comforts of home.
Nightly telecasts about all the work the Flash did was hard to watch. Having picked up the habit of listening to online police scanners, she would have to constantly fight the urge to jump up and help. Not only could she not leave without her GPS tracking her to questionable locations, but there was no way she would have been able to stop in the middle of a fight to plug in her ankle monitor for an hour, or to leave for curfew.
Plus, and even more importantly, her parents didn't know she was a meta-human. After hearing all about Gavin and the Royal Flush Gang, their opinions on meta-humans who used their abilities for personal gain were skewed in an unfavorable direction.
Averey knew she had gotten incredibly lucky that she was seeing no jail or prison time for her involvement with the Royal Flush Gang. Between her past discretions with the gang; compiling all the information she had; working as a criminal informant; and having people like Eddie Thawne and Captain Singh going to bat for her, she was grateful that her plea deal and argument of coercion, manipulation, violence, threats, and exploitation was accepted by the judge. All the same, the time spent in the courthouse's conference room waiting to for confirmation was nerve wracking. Even more than spending three months in Keystone Regional Jail waiting to hear what her official sentencing would be.
Six months ago, as she twisted back and forth in her chair, Averey had no idea how long the proceedings were going to take when she had arrived at the courthouse. They had been in the conference room since nine that morning, ready to submit a plea deal. Daniel and Ellie had been seated on either side of her, squeezing her hands in support. Her lawyer, Joanna Murphy, who had been with them in the room to explain the process, had been speaking with the judge for fifteen long minutes. Joanna's co-counsel, Michael Aaron was seated across from them, hands folded on the table. His finger tapped in time to the ticking from the clock.
"No matter what," Ellie said, drawing circles on the back of her hand with her thumb, "everything will be ok, sweet." Removing her hand from her daughter's, she tucked a lock of Averey's hair behind her ear, before starting to twirl her own dark hair around her finger. "We're still here."
"That's not going to change, kiddo." Daniel pulled his hand from hers and smoothed down her hair before kissing the top of her head. "Promise."
Despite accepting their words of encouragement, Averey didn't answer. The twisting in her seat stopped and she started bouncing her knee, her heel hitting the floor in quick succession. That was shortly followed by chewing on her thumbnail before she switched to rapping her knuckles on the table. Setting her gaze on the doorknob, she zoomed in her vision, enlarging the image of the doorknob in front of her eyes. She was not going to miss the second the door opened.
"Yeah, I know." It took way too long for her to understand that. She should have known and accepted that fact ages ago. There was only so many times she could be in trouble with the law, and attempt to face it alone, before anyone would reach their breaking point out of fear or frustration.
"Good news," Joanna Murphy announced, stepping back into the room, a stack of papers in her hands, "the judge accepted the plea deal."
A collective sigh was released in the room, but Averey could see on the woman's face that it wasn't all the news she had to share. Joanna's lips were pursed, emphasizing the wrinkles that had begun forming around them (most likely due to the stress of the job); her eyebrows angled downwards in concern forming a crease between them before sliding back to their normal position.
"What is it?" Averey asked, blinking hard to reset her vision. "What else?" Joanna's footsteps halted for a moment, surprised by the bluntness of her question, before she continued to the table. "I can see it on your face." Her heart started ramming in her chest, sweat prickling at her armpits.
Lying was easy to detect in other people. Everyone had a certain tell about them. Whether it was a brief hike of an eyebrow, the twitch of lips, repeated blinking, she'd spot it. It was almost funny; she had spent a lot of her time lying about her double life thinking she was doing a good job at hiding.
"The judge won't accept a full pardon," she explained, setting the papers down onto the table. Michael instantly reached for the top piece of notebook paper filled with Joanna's handwriting. "He does not agree that you should be let off without punishment, however, he agrees that the meta-human situation makes things sticky. The instances where you had acted on your own accord, choosing to commit a crime swayed his decision."
"What does that mean?" Ellie asked.
"He proposed a different sentencing," Michael replied as Joanna sat down beside him.
Lifting a hand, Joanna checked that her bun was still in place (Averey could see some wisps of hair were starting to poke out—maybe from how often she checked, or how many times she shoved in and ripped out the pen sitting behind her ear). "Accept the plea deal and you're accepting six months on house arrest, eight months of probation," she explained.
"Which will take you to the end of the year," Michael said. "You'll be starting 2016 with a clean slate if everything goes well."
"There's also the need to pay the additional costs of court fees, probation fees, and any payment of restitution that has yet to be decided upon at this moment."
"No jail time?" Daniel asked incredulously. "Or prison? At all?"
Joanna let out a breath of air, her cheeks puffing up with air momentarily, making her look like a chipmunk. If the situation wasn't so serious, Averey would have started laughing. Luckily, she could save the image to her memory bank.
"This is a really tricky situation, Mr. Kingston," she admitted. "We're fortunate enough to have Judge Bex drop the charges as far as he did. It helps that Averett has agreed to testify against everyone else, and has been willing to work with the police to bring them in. Unfortunately, meta-humans are still a new area for us. Who are we to really know for sure who is a true meta-human and who is using that title to get out of trouble?" She took the papers in her hands and straightened the already straight pile. "We've done our best to locate those who could corroborate her story, but it's been hard."
Of course it has. Averey bowed her head. Bette hasn't been heard from in ages and you're never going to find Ronnie to use him. Ever. Lifting her gaze, she looked past the men sitting across from her to peer out the window. They weren't that far away from where the singularity had opened. Where Ronnie had risked his life to help the city. Where Caitlin had, for a second time, lost the love of her life.
She must have shaken or reacted in some way to her thoughts as Daniel had moved his arm to rest on the back of her chair before he placed his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. Averey looked over at him and he gave her a smile and a wink.
"We've exhausted every resource we have to try and find anyone that had been contacted by this group," Joe commented, clasping his hands in his lap. "We could not find anybody that was willing to come forward. They refused to acknowledge whether they had any kind of connection with the Royal Flush Gang and, further, Belle Reve."
"Since Averey is the only one who's speaking up, she's the only person to be, unfortunately, made an example out of," Michael added, setting the notebook paper down onto the table. He smoothed down his tie, sitting straighter in his seat. "And, it is my understanding, that Detective Eddie Thawne had warned you that he couldn't guarantee you walking away from this without some sort of repercussion?" Averey nodded. "Then, Mr. and Mrs. Kingston, I believe this is the best situation we could ask for."
"If you accept this, then we can get your paperwork started right now," Joanna replied, pushing the stack of papers towards Averey. "Fill this out with as much information as you can, as honestly as you can. Nothing can be off limits."
Averey quickly flipped through the pages, swallowing thickly. Her nostrils started flexing before she sniffed repeatedly, trying to rid them of the stinging pain that suddenly started to burn, a sign that she was close to crying. Directions such as "letter from person(s) you live with acknowledging that House Arrest/Electronic Monitoring will affect them as well", "list family members who do not reside with you, include all parents, siblings, children, and intimate relationships", and "a letter from your employer must accompany this application" jumped out at her. But it was "I will wear the ankle bracelet at all times", and "movement will be tracked and stored" that repeated over and over in her mind.
As the words sunk in, Averey let go and burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. Between gasps of air and her sobs, she managed to get out a wobbly "Th-thank you-u" before she started crying again, flopping face down on the table. The uncomfortable sticky feeling of her breath on the table, condensation forming under her arms, her forehead, saliva spilling out of her mouth greeted her. Her mom had started crying as well, wrapping her arms around her daughter. Averey wanted to pull herself away from the touch and sink into it all at the same time. Then Daniel was holding them both.
"Don't thank us, yet," Joanna said grimly. "You still have to talk to the judge, make it official."
Now, with two and a half weeks left, the end was in sight. She could move on with her life. There was still the matter of whether she could have her record expunged, however. Due to the new involvement of bringing meta-humans and their abilities into law, it was easier said than done. In accordance to Missouri law, her record had a better chance of being expunged if her second misdemeanor had been acted upon five years after the first charge. Hers was three to four years depending on how it was being counted. The fact that she had been "drugged" and acting against her will worked in her favor, but meta-humans and their abilities were still a new reality to Central City.
Iron Heights had just completed a new wing specifically to house meta-humans, but the laws surrounding acceptable punishments was still being worked on. Regarding her case, it was something that could be discussed for months until a conclusion was agreed upon. Best case scenario: in a year, the new crime would be expunged and she would receive a Certificate of Actual Innocence, leaving only her previous petty theft crime on her record.
"Ava!"
"Huh?" Averey's eyes snapped open and she tried to control her breathing. Her chest was tight, her throat burned, almost like she was going to start crying. Breathing quietly in and out, she tried to slow her heartbeat. "Yeah, mum?"
"I said that Captain Singh called while you were out," Ellie explained. "He didn't say what it was he was calling for, just that he wants you to call him back." Averey didn't answer. The less time she spent around CCPD, the better. "We also need to think about what you'll do when everything is over. Have you considered getting in contact with your old boss? Tracey?"
"Jitters hasn't even been rebuilt yet," Averey said, running her hands over her face (knocking her sunglasses to the floor), before locking them behind her head. "I don't think they're taking applications anytime soon."
She shook her leg, trying to reduce the pins and needles feeling as the blood had flowed out of it the longer it stayed elevated. Using her other foot, she used her toenails to start scratch at the skin around the ankle monitor. The "hurts so good" feeling of pain and relief instantly arose when she scratched at the red and chafing skin. Her ankle monitor wasn't always the most comfortable thing to wear with tight work out pads.
"Besides, I was let go, remember?" she asked.
"For showing up to work late on numerous occasions, that's all." Ellie took a long sip of tea before smacking her lips. "You've been on time every day you've been working with Daniel."
"Yeah, because he drove me and made sure I was there and back here on time," Averey pointed out to her. Community service wasn't part of her plea deal, but working with a construction company to rebuild Central City looked good on paper. Getting done early for good behavior wasn't known for house arrest, but it didn't hurt to prove that she could be a stand-up citizen of the city.
God knew Central City needed all the construction help it could get. Daniel hit a niche market at a good time and put his extensive years as a contractor to good work. Whenever she wasn't out on pre-scheduled photography jobs and working freelance in Keystone, she was travelling through the damaged city with him, helping him keep job orders organized, working in make-shift offices on sites, taking calls, and collecting work orders and information. The pay was good, but most of it automatically went back to the weekly dues she needed to pay.
"This is the right time to apply; get ahead of it so they're not spending their first few days back looking for help." Ellie used her hand to brush her hair back from her face. "Just because you were let go doesn't mean she can't rehire you. Just ask for a time to meet, yeah? No, better yet, just walk over there and start talking. Make her listen to you."
"That's not how these things work now," Averey said with a short laugh. "If I want to reapply, I have to do things online and wait for a call for an interview." If they even want me back. Tracey had to have heard by now about my house arrest.
"Ok." Ellie seemed to accept her answer. "What about at S.T.A.R. Labs?"
Averey winced. She had scratched herself too hard. At least that's what she was told herself, using her thumb to wipe away the blood on her foot. "That was only a volunteer basis," she answered as calmly as possible. Swallowing thickly, she did her best to keep the lump that was sliding up her throat at bay. "Nothing I got paid for."
"Volunteer work can turn into real jobs, sweet. It won't hurt to look into it."
She was saved from answering as Daniel returned with her computer and the other requested items. Pulling herself up from the floor into a seated position, Averey turned her back to her mom, settling her computer on her lap. After booting up the system and entering in her password when prompted, she squirted a glob of anti-itch cream onto one end of the cotton bud. A long sigh of satisfaction slipped past her lips. Lifting the monitor up her leg until the width of her muscles stopped it from moving anymore, she carefully rubbed the cream on her irritated skin.
"That's better. Cheers, dude."
Her gaze instantly fell on her background picture. Gone was the old photo of her first visit in Central City 21 years ago. In its place was two half screen pictures: one of her, Barry Allen, and Henry Allen taken in Central City Hospital, the other of her, Barry, Cisco Ramon, and Caitlin Snow at Barry's 26th birthday party.
Barry and Averey flanked their dad, all smiling peacefully at the camera the day he could visit when she was in Central City Hospital. Barry was the camera man that day, arm extended to snap the picture. With Henry's handcuffs and the Iron Heights Prison logo on his shirt out of frame or hidden by Barry's shoulder, it looked like any other family photo.
The bottom picture was taken with the four of them squished onto the West's couch. Barry was closest to the camera, face scrunched up in a laugh. Cisco sat to his left, looked pleased with himself, his smile almost a toast to the camera. To his left was Averey, leaning back in her seat in mid-laugh, hands clapped together. Caitlin rounded out the picture with her usual "How am I friends with you guys?" smile.
Opening her internet browser, she did her usual routine of checking her e-mail, social media, video subscriptions, the news. After finding herself cycling through the same websites over and over, she let out a groan, closing her computer again. It was just as well: it was just another reminder of how much the city and people were changing without her. She tried watching TV with her parents from her vantage point on the floor, but even then, there was never anything good on in the early afternoon. Letting out a huff of annoyance, she flopped back down onto the floor.
"Why don't you go take a shower," Ellie suggested, picking up on her daughter's frustration. "We'll throw your stuff in the wash and make you something to eat."
"Eggs, bacon, toast?" Daniel asked from where he sat on the back of the couch. He looped an arm around his wife, sliding his hand up and down her arm. "Any preferences?"
"Soft boiled." Averey twisted her leg to look at the monitor and pumped her fist when she saw the green light. Finally, it was done charging. "Thanks."
Unplugging herself from the outlet, she went to her abandoned bag to grab the business card out of it. Glancing back at her parents over her shoulder, she watched as Ellie leaned into Daniel's embrace and he placed a kiss on top of her head. Smiling to herself, she ripped Melanie's card into pieces before hurrying up the stairs and into the bathroom. After flushing the pieces of paper, and a quick shower, she could smell the cooking bacon and hear her parents moving around the kitchen. Upbeat music played, filling the kitchen with positive energy.
Joining her parents in the kitchen, she glanced at the popping, and shrinking breakfast food. From there, the flames licking at the bottom of the frying pan caught her attention. The familiar throbbing pain started up behind her eyes, and she looked away. "It's done," she announced, starting to rub at her eyes. "I like it – "
"Chewy and crispy, I know." Daniel gave a wink and a salute with his spatula. "Coming right up."
"Ava," Elle said, setting a mug of tea down onto the island. Averey pulled herself onto a backless stool. "I was thinking next week with your Earned Leave, we could go shopping. There's always a time for some retail therapy, even if you only have three hours to do so."
"Why can't I just go shopping at this fabulous retail store called 'Mum's Wardrobe'?" Averey wrapped her fingers around the mug of tea and lifted it to her lips, taking a long sip. Closing her eyes, she savored the warm liquid before swallowing, feeling it warm her from the inside out.
"I need new clothes too."
"Ok, ok." Opening her eyes, she gave her mom a smile. "As long as you let me buy you lunch this time."
"Why don't I take you both shopping and out to lunch," Daniel offered, setting a plate of toast and bacon down in front of Averey before following it with an egg cup. Carefully cracking the top of the shell, Averey started to peel it.
Ellie gave Averey a mischievous smile before facing her husband with a suspicious gaze. "Are you saying there's something wrong with my clothes?" she asked.
"You really picked a good one, mum," Averey said deadpan, joining in on the joke. "Watch out; next he'll be making comments about your hair."
"I know, poor me." Ellie gave an exaggerated sigh. "I picked a guy who's sensible and giving. Should've picked one who would just do everything I say." As Daniel let out a loud "Ha!" Averey started laughing.
"Appreciate the offer, DK," she said, reaching for her phone, "but let me do something nice for you for once. Besides, you've had to put up with me this long. It's the least I could do." She gave a wry smile. "Actually, it's the most I could do."
"Two and a half weeks," Ellie said, reaching for her own mug of coffee.
Daniel leaned against the island, looping an arm around Ellie's waist. "Just two and a half weeks," he agreed before he kissed her. And continued kissing her.
"Ugh." Averey winced, turning her head away. That was one thing she did not want to remember for the rest of her life. "I wish I didn't see that!" Peeking back at them, she mimed throwing up at the smile on her mom's face as Daniel whispered something in her ear. "Oh my god! I can't wait to get out of here." Lifting her phone, she took a picture of her food before posting it to her Instagram.
"You know," Ellie commented, making her way around the island to sit down beside Averey. "I've also noticed Cisco hasn't been commenting on any of your social media posts lately."
Averey busied herself in removing the top of her soft-boiled egg. Picking up her piece of toast, she dipped a corner into the egg yolk before taking a bite. She was aware of what her friends were and weren't doing without her – anyone that said millennials were addicted to their phones could look to her for solid proof. She was also aware that she needed to strongly consider blocking her mom from her social media accounts.
Barry Allen was used to pointing, whispers, and stares.
Being the son of Henry Allen – whose highly public, media swarming, trial of the century court case where he was accused and later found guilty of murdering his wife, Nora Allen, never seemed to full drop out of the news – he knew that it came with the territory. For the past 15 or so years of his life, he had grown to accept that people would still think his dad was guilty, and in ways he had grown to ignore it. It was a solitary feeling, but one he had embraced over the years; it had even grown to be a sort of sanctuary for him.
Especially when he was running. He was no longer just Barry Allen, the son of a murder, but the Flash, a beacon of hope for Central City.
No one else knew what it was like to zip through Central City without breaking a sweat, moving faster than previously thought possible. Moving as fast as the lightning that had struck him almost two years ago, the wind whistled past his ears, the scents of late autumn reaching his nose, being pulled into his lungs with each breath, and the chilly air keeping him cool despite the heat and sweat he built up under the material of his suit as it stretched and formed perfectly to his body. And he was the only one who knew what it was like to run at impossible high speeds; to run so quickly that he could tune everything out, allow the edges of his vision to blur leaving only a clear image of where he was going, and just for a moment, let himself be.
Now, standing in the middle of S.T.A.R Labs' Cortex, despite being by himself, Barry felt the familiar ache of loneliness. The same ache (settling in the center of his chest) he felt his first night away at college. In a way, he almost wished for the whispers, points, and stares. At least while at S.T.A.R Labs it meant that they were learning some new about him and his abilities. Walking in a slow circle, his gaze moved from the empty medical bay, to the empty seats behind the curved computer station (with empty chairs and a stack of mail he left unopened), and then finally to his suit. It sat front and center in the alcove waiting for him.
Angling his head to the side, Barry could make out the back of the second mannequin holding the black and pink Visionary suit, waiting for its owner to return. Work had been done on the alcove. The mannequins were now jutting out of a rounded track on the floor, allowing them to be pushed aside access both suits. Even a light fixture was installed on the ceiling to showcase the suits more. Mouth forming a small, sad smile, Barry wondered just how often he and Cisco Ramon had been missing each other over the past six months.
"Oh," a quiet voice said behind him, sounding as startled as Barry felt at someone else being there, "you're here."
Barry turned around to face Cisco, silence falling between the two of them. They used to be able to talk about everything and anything while in S.T.A.R. Labs together ranging from movies, to television, music, girls, anything. Now they could barely look each other in the eye. It's better this way, Barry reasoned with himself, lifting his hand in a small wave which Cisco returned with a sharp uptick of his head, no one can get hurt this way.
"I saw what you did with the suits," he said, using his waving hand to scratch the back of his head. "I like it."
"Yeah, I saw your note," Cisco replied. He stood almost a foot shorter than Barry, with his hair pulled back behind his ears, round face lacking his usual excited smile. His dark eyes did seem to hold the usual mount of excitement as he took in the sight of Barry. He stood behind his empty computer chair, digging his fingers into the back rest of the seat. "I'm glad…that you like it."
"So, uhhh, what are you doing here?" Barry asked.
"I just needed to get some extra materials," Cisco said, indicating the hallway behind him with his thumb. He scratched the side of his nose with his thumbnail before pushing his hair back behind his ears and crossed his arms over his chest. "I have an idea for something to help the CCPD's Task Force, I just need some more stuff to finish it."
"Oh." Barry slowly nodded. "You like working at Headquarters, then?" He may have barely seen or talked to Cisco in the past six months, but he had been excited to hear that he had taken on the position of Scientific Advisor at the Central City Police Department. That job was suitable for no one else but Cisco Ramon; no one else understood metahumans as well as him. "I've heard good things. From Captain Singh no less, and you know how hard it is to get a compliment from him."
Cisco's eyes widened in agreement. "Oh, don't I know it," he replied. "Since I got the job, I've been asking him for a badge." He threw his hands into the air. "But, no dice! I mean, that's not too much to ask for after everything I've helped them with. And, dude, they needed the help."
Laughter bubbled in Barry's throat, but it didn't come out. Cisco wasn't wrong. Much like the rest of Central City, the police department was doing whatever they could to adapt to the fact that metahumans were in the city. A new wing at Iron Heights was created specifically for metahumans to be housed there, and new recruits from the Police Academy were being trained on how to deal with potential metahuman interactions and new equipment being used to aid them while they were out on the streets. As for the Flash; still no one had gotten a good glimpse of him, but rumors were going around that the city was holding a Flash Day celebration in the next week.
He was saved from answering when a familiar chime reached his ears. Whirling around to face the small computer station sitting against the wall of the alcove, the screen came to laugh showing a map of the streets, a red pulsating dot smack dab in the center. "Vehicle theft," Barry said quietly, reading the small flag of text. "Maple and Sudbury. Ok." He faced his suit before he rushed into it. "Sorry to cut this short, Cisco."
"I get it," Cisco replied quickly. He chewed on his bottom lip, looking so hard at the computer he used to dutifully sit behind, Barry briefly wondered if Cisco thought it would get up and start dancing. "The Flash never takes a day off."
"Right," Barry replied, adjusting the neck of his suit before reaching for the cowl. He pulled it down over his face, the mask fitting snugly over his chin and nose. His ears felt like they were being flattened against his head, covered by the lightning bolt shaped communications link. As usual, it was a perfect fit. Dropping his arms to his sides, he looked over at Cisco, allowing himself to smile. "It was good to see you, Cisco."
"You too," Cisco agreed, matching his smile. "Now get going. I need to get my stuff and head back, anyway."
With a short nod, Barry rushed past Cisco, watching as his hair and the stack of letter flew up into the air. Skidding to a quick stop in the hallway, Barry looked back at his friend, watching as Cisco hurried to gather the letters. Upon seeing the name on the front, Cisco looked after Barry and locked eyes with him for a moment before Barry ran from the building and into the heart of Central City.
The stolen vehicle was quick to find, zig-zagging through traffic, leaving black streaks on the ground. The acrid smell of burned rubber reached his nose as Barry ran after it, pushing his speed. Closer, and closer he got to the car until he was alongside it. Peering into the driver's side window, he came face to face with a man with a scruffy beard, white-knuckling the steering wheel.
Lifting a vibrating hand, Barry passed it through the door before reaching for his seat belt, quickly popping it open. As the chest strap of the seat belt shot back into its housing unit, Barry reached for the locking mechanism of the car door shifting it. Once it became unlocked, he grabbed the door handle, swinging it open. Running off, he got a quick glance at the driver's face, watching the man's face pale, eyes widened in shock before he hastily reached for the bouncing car door, and found himself laughing.
With the thief's eyes off the road, Barry ran around the city, grabbing road cones and barriers, placing them in the path of the swerving car. Stopping in front of the barriers, he lounged almost lazily against them, turning his wrist to glance at his imaginary watch. Without the sound of rushing wind in Barry's ears, he could hear the honks from the other cars in the city, and the police sirens growing louder and louder as they raced towards the location of the car. With a loud screech, the wheels on the stolen car locked in a desperate attempt to stop before hitting Barry.
"Really?" Barry asked, pushing himself to his feet. Walking around the car, he could feel the heat rising from underneath the hood. The driver sat in his seat, staring transfixed at Barry came to a stop by the driver's side door. It looked like the man inside was hastily trying to lock the door, but kept missing the button and Barry pulled it open. "You haven't figure out by now that I can run faster than a car?" The man gaped at Barry stumbling over his words, barely stringing a sentence together. "I know, I know, it's pretty cool. Too cool for words, right?"
Shaking his head, Barry pulled the man out of the car, slamming him into the side before grabbing the seat belt, twisting it and looping it around the man before stretching it behind his back and locking it back into the seat belt. Making a show of clapping his hands together, Barry surveyed his work before leaning against the car, propping his head up with his hand, using his elbow as a rest.
"So," he said, putting his free hand on his hip, "what was it you were trying to do here?" The man was now visibly shaking, moving only his eyes in Barry's direction. Hearing doors slamming behind him, Barry turned and watched police officers making their way towards them. The man continued to blubber. "Well. Might want to start getting your story straight so you can sound at least somewhat convincing to the cops."
Without another word, but he did give a jovial wave of his hand, he ran off, doing a few laps around the city before returning to S.T.A.R. Labs. "Phew," he breathed, removing the cowl from his head, sending droplets of sweat spraying through the air.
The cool air of the darkened building brushed past his heated skin and he made a mental note to actually wash his suit this time instead of air drying it. After the initial decision to work by himself, he quickly came to realize just how much work was done back at S.T.A.R. Labs that he never even thought about. Making sure his suit was cleaned (and smelling spring time fresh) was one of them.
As soon as Barry put his Flash suit back up on the mannequin, he closed his eyes, letting out a groan when he heard another chime. For a second time, he glanced at the computer screen and saw a flashing banner indicating a security alert. After a couple of strokes of the computer keys, he had access to all the security footage as it played in small squares. Everything outside of S.T.A.R. Labs looked to be normal, except for the man in a suit and tie making his way towards the side door of the building. Zooming in on the picture, Barry saw an envelope in his hands.
"No, no, no," he said, quickly closing out of all the computer programs. He then rushed out of the room at a run (a normal run). Coming to the elevators, he watched the triangle above the closed doors turn green as a soft chime hit the air. Quickly changing his path, he burst through the stairway door situated beside the elevator and shut it as quietly as possible. Peering through the window on the door, he watched the suited man step out onto the floor.
"Mr. Allen?" the man called, voice muffled by the door between them. He consulted the envelope in his hand. "Mr. Bartholomew Allen?" The man looked around the circular hall. "I'm here representing Weathersby and Stone…again. I have a letter – another one – of importance for you."
Turning on his feet, Barry quickly ducked down behind the door. Slowly backing up, he made his way towards the stairs taking them down one by one before he felt he was far enough and he started taking them down as quickly as possible. Only when he heard the door behind him slam fly open, slam into the wall, and an exasperated voice call, "Mr. Allen!" did he use his speed to put as much distance between himself and the man as quickly as possible.
Coming to a stop in front of C.C. Jitters, he leaned back against the cardboard covered windows and took in a deep breath of air. He wasn't exactly out of breath, or tired, but to suddenly go from running as quickly as possible to a slamming stop, he needed a bit of time to get his breathing back to normal. For him. His heart beat, while it quadrupled, or maybe more, while he used his abilities, slowed back down it's normal heart beat. Which, for anyone else, would still be alarmingly quick.
Luckily for him, he had his own medical center at S.T.A.R. Labs. If he were to go to a hospital, he was sure he wouldn't be able to leave because of all the tests they wanted done on him. For the past year or so, he had been through testing the limits of his abilities with people he trusted at S.T.A.R. Labs. People who had his best interests at heart. That was, until he had everything come crashing down around him.
Barry pushed himself up to his feet and gazed up at the sign, the building a shell of its former self. How funny was it after everything, C.C. Jitters was the first place he would come to? The coffee shop, over time, had become a central part of his life. After getting out of his nine-month coma, this was the first place he had come to. It became the place where he would meet up with Iris West and, unbeknownst to her at the time, as the Flash grew closer to her in a new way. It was the place he had first reunited with his half-sister. It was the place he went for deep and important conversations where he knew he wouldn't be overheard. And most importantly, it had the coffee that gave him a great jolt in the morning in ways his speed (or a blaring alarm clock) couldn't do.
Now it sat as cold and dark as the final dredges of coffee sitting at the bottom of a cup. The glass on the front door was cracked and webbing, held together with an X made of tape. Leaning close into the window, he could see overturned furniture, chunks of insulation, and smashed coffee mugs littering the floor. Like the other buildings on the street, he knew he'd have to get to working on it, eventually. It was depressing seeing the outskirts of the city in perfect condition compared to all the destruction evident in the heart of Central City.
Closing his eyes, Barry could experience it all again.
As the singularity continued to grow, the cacophony of deafening wind, cracking buildings, car horns, screams of terror, and blood pounding in his ears hit Barry all at once. His heart rammed in his chest as he jumped from building to building, trying to keep his balance as it pitched and rocked from the wind. Dirt hit him in the face, making his eyes water but he ran fast, faster. No one else could save his home. A rush of heat broke through the coldness that wrapped around him, and he turned his head to see Firestorm – arms, legs, and head covered in flames, eyes an eerie white – join him in the singularity. Then there was a blinding flash of light, a wave of heat and wind knocking him off his feet, and he was hurtling back towards the ground.
Barry was pulled out of his deep thoughts when a loud car honk sounded behind him. He shook violently, feeling his muscles tense up, ready to propel himself forward before he forced himself to relax. He could feel the familiar of tingle of electricity build in his legs before he realized it was only located on his hip. A fraction of a second after that, he realized that it was his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. Quickly retrieving it, he read the text message that he received before hurrying up to his forensics lab, grabbing his gear, and heading across the city to the nuclear power plant.
Ducking underneath yellow caution tape, an EMT instantly blocked his path. "Do you have reason to be here, son?" they asked.
"Um, yeah, I'm with the Central City Police," Barry replied, adjusting the strap to his aluminum brief case. "I work in their forensic department."
"It's ok," Joe West said, stepping up to the EMT worker, placing a hand on his shoulder. "He's with me." Seeing Joe's badge, the EMT worker gave a nod of his head and Barry moved to locate the area of the crime scene he was called to, leaving Joe to ask the EMT, "How is that other guy doing?
Following Joe, Barry reached into his pocket for a pair of black gloves, snapping them on over his hands. Rounding a corner, he came across a motionless body lying on the floor of what looked to be a sectioned off area of power plant for its workers. The body had on an olive gray jump suit with an orange safety vest. His helmet lay abandoned a short way away.
"Whoa," Barry said, spotting a dark purple ring around the man's neck. He crouched down by the body. "You were having a pretty rough day, huh, buddy?"
Careful not to move the body (that was oddly lying straight with its arms down by the man's side, legs closed pointing straight down), Barry started working through his checklist. After taking pictures of the body, he carefully collected samples of hair and any other DNA fragments from the body with tape carefully wrapped reverse around his hand, picked any dirt or other debris from under the finger nails with toothpicks, and collected anything he could from the floor around the body, storing them all away in carefully labeled bags.
"What have we got here?" Joe asked, walking up beside Barry.
"Whatever happened to him, this guy put up a fight," Barry replied. He briefly looked up at Joe before starting to go over his findings. "There's some blood on his fingertips, dirt under his nails, and I'm going to assume skin from his attacker. Then if you look over here – " He carefully tilted the chin upwards, "these excoriations on his neck, around the bruising, shows he may have been trying to break free. Notice, however, that he doesn't have any blood on his neck. But – " He lifted the right eyelid, "all the petechiae on his face and in his eyes – "
Joe leaned forward, getting a better look at the man's blood shot eyes. "It makes him look like he had a great time winding down last night," he commented with a short laugh. "Knocked back a few drinks." Then he sobered. "Strangulation?"
"By a very big and very strong somebody," Barry agreed with a nod of his head. "I don't want to move the body but, I think the hyoid bone may have been fractured." Thinking back to his exam, a shiver rolled down his spine: when he touched the throat, feeling it nearly collapse under his hand. There were dark bruises behind the man's ears, and he was sure he could feel the skull splintering from the force of the crushing, dotting the skin upwards almost like brail. Flexing his fingers, and pressing his fingertips into the heels of his palms, he tried to get rid of the feeling of bone pricking into his skin. "If it's at all possible, I wouldn't even rule out an internal decapitation. I mean, this man's throat was really crushed."
"I only know of one person that is that strong," Joe commented with a deep frown. "Or rather, one thing."
Barry got to his feet, removing the gloves from his hands. The thought crossed his mind as well, but he quickly ruled it out. After a look around the area to make sure they wouldn't be overheard, he said, "This wasn't Grodd." He knew what it was like to be held inside the gorilla's giant fist. It was almost snake-like where he could feel every strong muscle in Grodd's hand as it closed around his neck and torso. It was uncomfortably warm and every time he tried to get a breath of air, the crushing weight just increased. "He hasn't been seen around for months."
"Do you think he's really gone?" Joe asked. "Grodd?" Barry saw a look of concern briefly pass his face.
He had too close of a run in with the gorilla having been taken hostage by the intelligent animal. Luckily, he had gotten out with only mild bruising. But in this moment, Barry could still see the fear in his eyes that he had witnessed when he had found him in Grodd's lair deep underneath the streets of Central City. Joe could push it all away long enough to get work done, to make sure both Barry and his daughter, Iris, still had him around, but an event like that changed you.
Barry had always known Joe to be a family-oriented man, but after that day, he took it up a notch. Sitting together for dinner became more of a mandatory thing, and Sunday morning breakfasts followed close after that. Despite Barry's wish to handle things on his own, trying to get out of the house at the earliest convenience, he made sure to attend every meal. The Wests, after all, were still his family.
"I think it's better we didn't hear anything about someone stumbling upon a gorilla carcass to be honest," Barry said with a grim smile. "Do we know who this guy is?"
"Al Rothstein," Joe replied, reaching for the inside breast pocket of his coat. He removed a small notepad and flipped a few scribbles filled pages over and started reading his notes. "He was a welder here at the plant. Has been an employee for the past ten years. Never had been late. Everyone here says he was a hard worker and got along well with everyone. No enemies; no one who seemed to be staking out the area, or following him, or anything like that." He pulled his lips into his mouth, tapping his hand with the notepad. "His friend didn't make it either. Seems like he was trying to help Rothstein fight off the attacker. The back of his head was smashed in."
"It's just peculiar," Barry commented, putting his hands to his hips. "We've come across strangulation victims before, but this guy…" He tilted his head to the side. "It's like whoever did this wanted to make sure people knew he was dead." Twisting his wrist towards himself, he glanced at the time on his watch, wondering for the umpteenth time why he not only kept the watch from a man who betrayed him, but why he referred to something that could never stop him from being late. "Anyway, I better get a jump on these tests, get a more conclusive idea of what happened here." Kneeling by his case, he snapped the locks shut, lifting it from the ground. "I'll let you and Captain Singh know whatever I find as soon as I get results."
He barely took two steps away when Joe said, "Cisco told me that you two ran into each other today." Barry turned on his heels, giving a shrug and a nod of his head. "How was that? You two have been 'just missing' each other at work for a while now."
"It was ok," Barry replied. "I've heard he's been a big help at Headquarters, though."
"It took a bit to convince Captain Singh to create the job for Cisco," Joe explained, tucking his notepad back into his coat. "But, I think it was his past help that really pushed him over the edge." At Barry's look of confusion, Joe explained. "Those shields he made to combat Snart and Rory. They're been lent out to the Academy, but Singh wants Cisco to be prepared just in case there needs to be more made." Barry smiled to himself.
All Cisco had ever wanted to do ever since the particle accelerator accident, was to not only make up for the damage the city had sustained, but to prove that while everyone had the right to be angry with S.T.A.R. Labs, that they could still do good if they were given a chance. Seems like after this second disaster that struck in less than a year, he was finally getting that opportunity. The Flash aside, of course. While there were many people who had their DNA altered and twisted, turning them into something more, who used their newfound abilities to take advantage of others, the Flash was their greatest accomplishment. He was their greatest ally in restoring Central City to the safe, bustling, technology based town it was before.
"Sounds like he's adjusting well," Barry replied, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "He said he was working on something for the Task Force?"
"The B.O.O.T," Joe replied. "I could guess what the acronym means but you're going to get a real crazy explanation."
"I'm telling you, no name will ever be as ridiculous as Bartholomew," Barry replied, earning a laugh from Joe.
"About as ridiculous as the upcoming Flash Day?" Joe asked, sliding his hands into his pants pockets. "Headquarters just got word that some people will be assigned to security duty that day, just in case. Yours truly included. Of course everyone just wants to know if the Flash is going to be attending." He was standing calmly, but his eyes were fixed on Barry and he recognized the look instantly: Joe was looking for an answer.
Barry let out a heavy sigh. He knew there was only so long he could go thinking the plans for a Flash Day was a rumor. There was always a little blurb in the Central City Picture News or The Central City Citizen about it and the supposed plan that Mayor Bellows was going to be presenting the Flash with a key to the city. It was a great honor, but one that Barry didn't deserve. He didn't do everything for the notoriety, and he wasn't going to start taking credit for something he didn't do. He wasn't the real hero that day.
"Haven't decided," he replied. Joe tilted his head to the side, but didn't say anything. His gaze was saying it all: why not? "Well, I – it's not my scene. Getting the key to the city? For real?"
"How is that any different than all the academic awards, and trophies, and certificates you got while in school?" Joe asked, eyebrows lifting. "You've done something other people could never even dream of doing. It's ok to be recognized for it."
"I don't deserve it.
"Who says?" Barry balked at the question. Surely, Joe would understand. "Has Caitlin said anything about how you shouldn't get the reward? Has Iris?" Barry didn't answer, instead checked to make sure that his case was closed securely, and that the strap wasn't digging into his shoulder. "They understood what decision they were making, and the risks involved. After everything, they would not sit by and put everything on your shoulders." He shook his head back and forth. "No one blames you, Barry."
"I know," Barry replied, "I know."
"Cisco also doesn't blame you for not wanting to accept what was left to you in Dr. Wells's living will."
Barry looked up in alarm. How did he know that? How did Cisco know that? Then he remembered what had occurred earlier. Cisco had been picking up the mail he had scattered through the air when rushing to find the stolen vehicle. He must have read it and told Joe. Barry had been left S.T.A.R. Labs. He was now the owner of one of the most known locations in the country. And he wanted nothing to do with it — apart from using it to house his suit, the only thing he did with the building was clean every now and then.
"Don't blame Cisco. He's just worried about you," Joe explained. "Only, he wasn't too keen about breaking the law, so I opened your mail." Barry stared at him. "I've been getting those letters sent to the house, too. All they've been doing is just making a pile. These people have been trying to get in touch with you for months, Bare."
"I've been busy," Barry replied, quickly. "That's all."
"Busy avoiding everyone?" Joe replied.
Letting out a scoffing chuckle, Barry briefly bowed his head, scratching at the back of his neck. "Do you remember, after I had been living with you for a few months, I still wouldn't talk to anyone? Let alone eat?" he asked, looking Joe in the eye. "No matter how hard you tried?"
"Of course." A far-off look came to Joe's face. "I hated it. Every day you weren't that sweet little boy I had known you to be, hurt me. As a cop, I knew how to give people some comfort whenever I made an arrest, or sat with them on the side of the road when their car broke down. But, I didn't know what to do or say to help you to stop being so angry."
"Do you remember what you said to me?"
"I told you that it was okay to be tough despite everything that happened. It's even more brave to let out how you really feel. That it was ok to feel."
"Well, I feel like six months ago, I had the means to do what I had always done – help people – but in the end, I only ended up hurting the people I care about most," Barry replied. "So, I don't feel like I deserve anything. Those science trophies, those academic awards? I deserved those and I got them on my own. The only way I can keep everyone safe is to do this by myself. Ok?"
"Excuse me?" Joe asked. A deep frown appeared on his face. "I seem to remember staying up late helping you with all of those science projects. I helped look over all of your homework, and proof read your papers." He pointed at Barry, voice taking on an edge of disappointment. "You seem to be forgetting the rest of what I told you: that I was here for support. We all are. That has never changed and it's not going to change another six months from now." He waved his hand in the air. "After you came to live with Iris and I, the community banded together to help you."
Barry snorted. "You mean the part that actually believed my dad was innocent?" he asked. "You weren't all that accepting of the truth, either."
Joe blinked repeatedly. "Come on, Barry," he said quietly and Barry's stomach dipped. He no longer sounded disappointed. There no anger. Not even any sadness. "We've come way too far to go back to that."
"Sorry."
"After you woke up from your coma, Caitlin and Cisco could have just let you leave. They helped you understand what happened to you. The longer you've been saving Central City as the Flash, the more support you've gotten from everyone. So, the thing is, Barry, you've never been alone. As far as I'm concerned, you're never going to be."
Barry's shoulders dropped. "Joe…" What was he supposed to say to that?
Joe put his palms out. "It's ok," he said. "I'm not going to push you. I know you need the time and the space." He placed a hand on Barry's shoulder, gently squeezing it. "You're used to running away from your problems. I'm sure, even occasionally, the Flash gets tired." With that, he turned on his heels, and left the area.
Sighing, Barry adjusted his case again, making his way at a leisurely walk away from the crime scene. Heading in the direction of the Central City Police Headquarters, he ignored the prickly feeling that suddenly popped up on the back of his neck.
If he didn't normally have the feeling of electricity running through his body, and if for a big chunk of his life he hadn't been stared at, and if just months ago he hadn't found out he had been secretly spied on, the feeling of being watched would've been something to pay attention to.
Somewhere in Central City
Click. A picture of Joe West climbing out of his vehicle at Central City Police Headquarters filled a small LCD screen.
Click. Joe's picture slid out of frame and was replaced by Cisco Ramon, using one hand to brush his long hair out of his face, a penlight in his mouth.
Click. Iris West at Central City Picture News, a phone up to her ear, pressed into position with her shoulder as she took down notes.
Click. Caitlin Snow in her new office at Mercury Labs, lips forming a line of concentration as she poured over sheets of data.
Click. Barry Allen leaving a crime scene, face set in a firm mask.
"Just one more," a soft, yet full-toned voice said with a satisfied smile, continuing to scroll through the roll on the camera in his hands. "And they have no idea." His smile wilted and he rolled his eyes. "The idiots."
Lifting a hand, he brushed his chestnut brown hair out of his dark eyes, before relaxing against the backrest of his seat. Tapping his thumbs against his camera, he lifted his foot to the edge of the oak desk covered with photo prints, twisting his chair back and forth.
Below him, he heard a door slam and a voice call out, "Jay!"
"Finally." Lowering his foot to the floor, Jay set his camera down. Taking quick strides around his desk the printed pictures fluttered to the floor. Leaving the office, he hurried down the stairs. Upon spotting a blonde-haired man removing his jacket from his shoulders, he asked a single word, "Where?"
"On house arrest," the man replied in a smooth baritone, hanging his coat up in the front closet. As he turned around, now hands free, he scratched at the stubble around his jaw before adjusting his shirt collar. "She's been there since noon today."
"Explains the unusual schedule," Jay replied with a slow nod, crossing his arms over his chest. "On this earth, it seems like the 'millennials' prefer to stay at home more. What a shame: so many ground breaking changes could be made in that time."
"Right, and the anklet has nothing to do with it," the man replied dryly. "If you noticed that before-hand, I wouldn't have had to sit outside their house all day." Jay's face tightened. "Nobody saw me."
"I should hope not," he replied.
"Luckily, they have a Big Belly Burger here. So, it wasn't a huge loss."
"Good. There are a couple more people I need you to locate."
"Sure, no problem." The man shrugged. "It shouldn't take too long. Who am I looking for?"
"I'll let you know as soon as I figure out who will best serve me," Jay replied. "I need to see how Rothstein works out and then I'll go from there." His lips twitched. "But the next time you go to Big Belly Burger, bring me back a milkshake or something."
A/N: And we're finally in season 2! I hope you're all as excited to read this story as I am to write it. I had started re-watching season 2 episodes again to prepare myself for it. With season 4 starting up a couple of weeks ago, it's kind of fun to look back and see how much has changed with the characters across the four seasons. Thanks for checking this story out.
Confused? Enjoyed a specific spot in the chapter? Need further explanation on anything. Leave a comment!
-Rhuben