Eobard knows that it doesn't really matter if you change the past as long as you are able to do so again. This isn't necessarily as helpful as one would think, though. The notion evokes a grim smile and he briefly wonders how many failures he has had to deal with so far.
It doesn't matter. Not anymore.
The world is quiet around him. It nearly always is these days. It doesn't bother him, he hardly even notices it. Slowing down and joining other people again, on the other hand, is an experience he hardly finds interesting or enjoyable enough to actually put the effort to do so in anymore.
He wouldn't be able to do a lot of things otherwise, anyway. Like watching the little crying blond child in front of him who is huddled up next to his bed on the cool floor.
Time travelling is such a fucking messy thing. He tried it, many times. Every time as disappointing as the one before. It was like an unspoken law that he could change Barry Allen's life just so much before it ended into a total clusterfuck. This was an endless source of frustration for him back then.
These days, he smiles when he remembers how unimaginative he has been.
Eobard steps closer to the small boy who can hardly be older than six. His eyes stay fixed on him.
The Speed Force is a fickle thing, Eobard has studied it for a very long time by now and he knows that, if he was honest with himself – and he is because if he had any faults it certainly isn't lying to himself – he is no closer to understand it than he was when he first laid an eye on the Flash.
The little kid's expression is frozen in an expression of fear, pain and utter confusion. Eobard has been studying him for a while now. His face is pale and his cheek are wet with tears. They shine in the pale light of the moon that falls through the window above the bed.
The Speed Force isn't just like a linear stream, they all know it, all of them who are connected to it. Every time you decide to run against it, go back somewhere you don't have any place to be, you create a new branch, some with catastrophic ramifications and others not so much.
It can be used for so much more than that, though.
Eobard breaths the air of the small bedroom in deeply, the taste of sweat and fear is thick in it and causes his cock to twitch slightly. His can't but keep on studying the small child with the blond hairs and wide blue eyes.
This night is special. He has to attend it, he needs to. He always does. It is the passing of the crossroad on which everything starts to really change. No matter how much he has influenced the little boy's life before that, this always makes the actual difference.
Eobard crouches down in front of the small child, his eyes wander down over his curled up body and he marvels over how fragile and tiny Barry Allen once was. How easy it would be to simply snatch him away from here and keep him.
A familiar hunger rears its head deep inside him and he feels the urge to touch. He ignores it.
There is no rule that says that going back in time to change something will have horrible consequences. At least not as long as you follow a couple of simple rules. Time is a fickle thing but it is not cruel and it holds no grudges.
Eobard needed a while to find out what made it impossible to act on his plan. Afterwards, he tried to bend those unwritten rules but to no avail. It nearly drove him crazy to be able to change Barry's life but only so much before the Speed Force itself came after him like an antibody trying to eradicate a virus.
He smiles at that notion. It is fitting, after all. He doesn't kid himself about who or what he is. Not that it matters, not in a world he creates to his liking, not when he finally gets the Barry Allen he has been working towards to for so long. After all those failures, he knows – he just knows – that it will work this time.
Studying the little broken child in front of him, he can't but feel elated about what promises he holds.
Everything starts with the Flash. At least what matters to him and he has come to understand this by now.
Then, despite intending to ignore it, Eobard notices the blood and, while he doesn't want to, he gazes briefly over to the rumpled bedding. An annoyed frown follows and he turns towards the door, behind which the other man has just vanished.
He never liked the fact that he needs others for his plan. Having others put their ugly hands on what is his, what would be his in just a few years, in a blink of an eye for someone like him, is disgusting and upsetting.
At times, it angers him that Barry forces him to do this. It is unsettling to think that he isn't enough to get him where he needs him to be.
It are moments like this that he enjoys the thought of all the pain and tragedy the boy is going to face. Always just for a second, though, before another feeling overcomes him, one of shame and disgust.
Eobard, despite what anybody would say or think, doesn't want to hurt or break Barry Allen, but he has to. There is no other way, he has certainly tried everything before.
Barry would understand, in the end. Maybe it would take a long time but Eobard knows that while time can't heal all wounds it can help to make peace with anything.
He turns back to the child, who looks still as scared and confused as before, and something moves uneasily in his stomach. Suddenly, watching the young boy doesn't offer anything mesmerizing anymore.
Eobard decides that he has been here for long enough.
