Chapter 3

It's about a business week later before I hear back from Mr. Allen, and I had started to wonder if he had dropped off the face of the earth. When we finally do see each other again, it's because he stops by the bar to catch up and gives me his phone number so, and I quote, "We can hang out again soon. Though maybe with less alcohol," which earned me a questioning look from Mason. (One of the only things I've gotten from him lately.) I take him up on it though and the three of us, Barry, Harley and I, find time to hang out. I guess getting unbelievably drunk is one way to start relationships.

Aside from chilling with my friends, the next three weeks have gotten pretty cray-zay. I have a huge project due for my chemistry class along with a paper in psychology, and Mr. Hunt is making my life a living Hell in Biotech. Like, seriously dude, I was late one time. No need to resort to personal vendettas, geez. Anyway, that's my school life. Becoming a forensic analyzer with a minor in criminal profiling is hard work.

And at my work-work things have gotten even more stressful with Mason. I thought him telling me that I was the worst possible candidate to be his girlfriend and then proceeding to cut me out of his life altogether would be the worst of it, but I was dead wrong. He's started inviting his girlfriend to the bar to have long, romantic conversations about their future, but as far as I know he still hasn't proposed which brings up questions about if he's second guessing his decision, and if he is, why now? Was it me? Maybe he lied when he said he'd never liked me so that I wouldn't pester him anymore. Maybe now that he knows about my feelings he'll - No. Stop. I can't do that to myself. No more what if's, it's time to grow up and move on.

So, back to Barry Allen. A couple weeks after our friendship was founded on drunken sorrows he texts me: Are you free this afternoon?

Which takes me by surprise 'cause : Aren't you supposed to be at work right now?

Eh. It's a long story … Wanna get coffee at Booster's?

I look down at my tank top and fluffy pajama pants that my cat is nesting in. I'm not dressed. And I wasn't really planning on accomplishing that task today.

Then I'll come over?

Sure.

Cool. Be there in a few.

I sigh and push my cat off my legs. "Come on Joe, gotta go put a bra on."

~.~. Le skip of suspense .~.~

I'm in the kitchen making myself a bowl of cereal when someone knocks on the door. I slide over in my fuzzy socks and open it, only to be basically pushed out of the way as Barry tumbles in with an armload of briefcases and paperwork. He sets his stuff down on the kitchen table and then turns around all flustered like.

"What's all this?" I ask.

He looks back at his things. "Case work …" He runs a hand through his hair nervously and regards me again before walking over and plopping himself down on our sofa and turning on the T.V.

"Um, alright … 'S not like this is my house or anything." I shrug agitatedly as I sit in one of the armchairs across from him.

He sighs and clicks off the remote. "I'm sorry, some stuff's come up and it's got me … out of sorts."

"Is this stuff the reason you wanted to come over and talk?"

"Yeah, but we need to wait for Harley."

"Do you want me to make you some tea or something while we wait? Alcohol isn't the only beverage I appreciate." I grin, trying to lighten the mood, but his eyes are fixed on the wall.

"Barry. Barry!"

"Hm?"

"You sure you're ok there, Kid? You seem a little out of it." I note as I walk back into the kitchen to commence the process of tea brewing and dispose of the uneaten cereal. Such a waste.

He anxiously wipes his hands on his pants. "Yeah." He gives a half hearted smile. "Like I said, just a little out of sorts." He looks over at the 'Case work' again, and then his watch before tightly grasping his hand together and asking, "When is Harley supposed to be back, anyway?"

Once I have the delectable beverage ready we sip tea in tense silence. Barry and I had sat in the living room watching morning cartoons when the door opens and Harley comes through the archway. "Hey guys!" She exclaims, making us both jump. "Barry, I was just about to text you back. What's with the tree massacre?" She gestures at his paperwork before looking at us again, and seeing the looks on our faces she then asks, "Oh sorry, did I interrupt something?"

Then I notice her face, or more specifically, the huge shiner she was trying to conceal beneath her brown bangs. "Oh man! What happened to your face?!" I come over to inspect it, moving her hair out of the way as I continue to drink my tea.

"I just got into it with that kid Brennan from class." I give her my best disapproving look. 'That kid Brennan' has had it out for her since they met, but I don't really condone violence. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine. Turn off your momma bear mode and tell me what's with all these papers."

I turn back around to Barry who had been watching this whole exchange. "Yeah Bear, what's with all the papers?"

He had stood up at Harley's entrance and at this point walks over to the table where his mess is laid out, taking a seat in one of the chairs. I cautiously follow his lead, noting how very brooding and uncharacteristically quiet he is. Harley stands there for a second longer with this look on her very bruised face like 'uh, am I missing something' before I signal that she should sit too, which she does. However reluctantly.

He sighs and looks between us. "Ok," He says, "This is going to sound completely crazy, but I need you guys to just listen for a sec."

"Man this is getting intense …" Harley notes and I nod my agreement.

"Harley, I don't think I've told you yet, but when I was young my mother was ... murdered." He lets his words hang in her shocked silence a moment before continuing, "Nikki, remember how I told you I'm completely sure my dad didn't do it?"

I nod. "Well, not in so many words, but yeah … the gist was there …" I trail off awkwardly as I realise It would have been much better if I'd have just stuck with my nod. Yet he continues unphased,

"Did you ever wonder how I could be so sure?"

I shrug. "Yeah, but I thought maybe you'd looked at the evidence and some of it didn't hold up or something."

"The evidence." He scoffs somewhat bitterly, looking at the piles of paper. "This is the 'evidence', and it's completely solid from any detective's perspective." He pauses. "But I know what really happened. I was there that night. I saw the thing that killed my mom."

"The thing?" I ask.

"You were there? When your mother …?" Harley's quiet words leave the question unfinished, but she and Barry look at each other and some silent understanding passes between them.

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair again, returning to his story with vigor, and turning to me as if I'm the one who now needs to be convinced. "I was there that night, Nick, even though all of this says I wasn't." He gestures angrily at the files. "I was there and what I saw in my living room was something completely unexplainable."

"What did you see?"

"A ball of lightning. And inside the lightning there was a man in a yellow suit. He killed my mom." He leans back in the chair and rubs his chin rather aggressively before sitting up suddenly and continuing his story. "I was eleven years old and I was woken up by a loud noise in the middle of the night so I went downstairs to find out what it was and I saw my mom stuck in this vortex of red and yellow and I couldn't get near her. I remember that as I tried, I saw this shape in the lightning and it was a man. There's no doubt in my mind. Then my dad was telling me to run and the next thing I know I'm twenty blocks away from my house. I ran all the way back, but when I got there …" He stops. "They arrested my dad and he's still sitting in Iron Heights for her murder. Everyone- the cops, the doctors- they all told me it was impossible, but I know what I saw."

His eyes plead with me to believe him. I look over at Harley and take in the way she's looking at him. She totally believes him. Or wants to anyway. Man, I'm screwed. "Barry …" I start skeptically, but he interrupts me.

"Nicholle, listen," He tries again, almost like he's scolding me, "I know it sounds crazy, but I have been looking into cases that seem… impossible. Like this case in Starling, there was a report last night of a robbery. But the thing is, robber has this unnatural strength," he pulls out his tablet from under some of the papers. "This is a picture from the M.E. report of one of security guards that died that night." Barry sets the device in front us and we both lean in.

"From the looks of this," Harley says, "it looks like he was strangled."

"Broke his neck actually," I correct, noting the bruising pattern and the disjointed vertebrae.

"This hand print…," Harley touches the screen to zoom in on the man's neck. "Someone did this with only one hand?" she looks up at me and then Barry for confirmation.

It looks like it, but … "It takes 1,250 foot-pounds of torque to break someone's neck…," I declare, leaving out the implications of this. "Barry, how did you get this," I ask, concerned.

"Yeah Bartholomew," Harley smirks, trying to ease the tension a bit. It doesn't exactly work.

"Look," Barry explains. "I did some research on the building of Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences Division and the door that they broke into was made of expanded reinforced titanium, and it was ripped into like it was nothing." That's … impossible. "This proves that the impossible can exist, right? So maybe a man in lightning is more than just a story an eleven year old made up to save his dad. Right?" He looks between us, desperate and hopeful, willing us to accept the words he's given us; this secret he's shared. I look over at Harley and she shrugs.

I sigh. "I mean, I guess." I push my curls out of my face and he smiles, relaxing enough to sit back down in our kitchen chair. "But what do you plan on doing with all of this? It's not like you can head down to Starling City and ask him about how he got his super strength."

"And how would you even get close enough to the case," Harley points out. "I'm pretty sure SCPD isn't going to let just some kid from another city in to investigate one of their cases."

"But I can ask! Well, not exactly, but kind of."

I press my fingers against my temples in an effort to remain sane. And apparently I'm the only one. What with Barry wanting to run off to chat with murderers and Harley being so chill with all of this in general …

I fold my hands together and look up at him, worried. "Are you sure you want to get mixed up in stuff like this Barry?"

"Nikki," He leans in and rests his chin in his hands, boring into my eyes with the intensity of his gaze. "I have the opportunity to find out what actually happened to my mom that night and maybe even free my dad. And even if this doesn't tell me about the man in the yellow suit, at least I'll be one step closer to proving the impossible is possible."

I look at Harley again. "So did you bring all of this stuff by just to make us sad or...?" She asks him.

"No, I don't want you guys to be sad," he states. " it's just … All my life people have been telling me that stuff like this doesn't happen, that it's crazy. That I'm crazy. But this," He holds up a picture. "this could be all I need to know that they haven't been right all these years."

"So why'd you bring all of this by …?" She asks awkwardly, 'cause he didn't really answer her the first time.

"I think I'm trying to ask you both for your help." He smiles sheepishly at us. "Not only do I want to solve this case, which, most likely I won't be able to do by myself, but," He hesitates. "I also want to find out about the Starling City vigilante."

"No, Barry Allen. Just no." I cut in before he coerces Harley into anything else and go back to rubbing my temples in frustration. "I can only handle so much illegality in one night."

"It's noon." Harley points out and I look at her. "Sorry … you were … making a point … awk."

"Damn it Nicholle." He says exasperatedly, putting an arm behind his head and looking at me with this look that I can't quite describe. It's like frustrated and disappointed and … hurt. "This is so incredibly important to me. Yeah, it could get dangerous, yeah I could get hurt, and yes, it might be … somewhat illegal, but I thought you two could help me avoid all of that. I thought you would have my back. I thought we were friends."

Layin' the guilt on a little thick there, Bear. But it's working. It's the puppy eyes. I huff. "We are friends, and we do have your back. I've got your back, I just don't want you to get hurt is all …"

"But you believe me?"

"I believe you." Harley declares. "I at least believe you shouldn't be doin' this by your lonesome, Baby face." They both turn to me.

"I … I don't know. The guy in Starling? Yeah, I believe you. But he's a dangerous criminal who isn't afraid to murder people Barry, and the same goes for the vigilante. As for the man in the yellow suit? It's …"

"Don't say impossible." He begs.

"Improbable. Unlikely." His face falls. "But possible." I shrug. "Science is about testing the impossible and expanding the bounds of our reality, so It's improbable … But possible … I suppose."

Harley cheers and he sighs with relief. "You don't know how much you saying that means to me."

"I think I have an idea." I smile softly. "Your hands were shaking."

He wipes them self consciously on his pants. "Yeah. And clammy."

"And you look terrible." Harley comments, making Barry chuckle and me smirk.

"Hey," I add before we can move on to anything that would reasonably follow a hot debate. "You can count on me, Kay? Harley and I have your back no matter what. Count on it. That's what friends are for." He smiles. "Just remember that you're not the only one affected by the decisions you make, kay Barry?"

~.~. Le skip of dummies .~.~

After Barry leaves Harley and I are stuck in a tornado of papers and files that he left so we could learn the case. When trying to organize all these things into something coherent failed, I decided 1:21 p.m. was just the time to have that bowl of cereal. Maybe I should've had it sooner. I get cranky when I'm hungry.

All I can think about is Bartholomew running off to catch that stupid train to Starling City to try and find some no name vigilante and talk to a man wanted for murder. "Idiot." I whisper to myself, but I really just hope he finds what he's looking for and makes it back safe. Starling isn't exactly known for it's hospitality, just it's crime rate. Well, and architecture. Those 1%-ers really known how to live it up.

Harley comes in then, breaking me out of my thoughts. "So," She begins, grabbing a glass of water. "how's it going with Mason? Any better? I know things have been a little … strained between you two."

I sigh, dangling my legs from the countertop as I sit and stir my cornflakes around. "Well, it's been pretty stressful. We don't talk, like ever anymore, especially after he told me to basically bug off. The lengths of our conversations consist of the weird looks he gives me when Barry comes by. Now he just brings his girlfriend to the bar and they talk for hours. A part of me believes… Nevermind." I stop myself and dejectedly play with my cereal.

"Hey, what is it? You know you can talk to me right?" She says, placing her cup next to me and giving me her full attention.

"I just… He hasn't proposed to her yet." I confess and glance up at her through my lashes. "What if he's second guessing his decision? What if he's actually thinking about being with me?"

She pauses for a moment and her jaw tightens a little.

"So, what if he was?" She questions back, hoping up unto the counter with me. "Do you actually want to be in a relationship with him?"

"I don't know. I don't think so… Maybe. I don't know. I'm just so confused." I sigh again and shove cereal into my mouth, trying to concentrate on something other than my hopeless love life to keep from crying.

"Hey, why don't we have a movie night?" She suggests, patting my knee. "To get our minds off of lame-o boys."

I smile, "Movie night."

~.~. Le skip of progression .~.~

Barry spends a few days in Starling City all the while sending us fibers to analyse and surveillance camera footage to look over along with other things as he works the case of the strong man. Because of this, his mom's case, and Mr. Hunt assigning a massive individual project, I've been spending the majority of my time in the forensic/biotech labs in CCU. And that is where I can currently be found the night of the particle accelerator launch.

Hey, Iris and I are going to watch the particle accelerator launch at S.T.A.R. labs, wanna come? - Barry

No thanks, I can't, I've got school stuff. But have fun on your nerd date ;)

I put my phone in my pocket and return to setting up the experiment just as my lab partner Jenna comes in and places her bag in a locker.

"Hey," she says, coming over to examine the set up. "thanks for coming out here on such short notice, I know you really wanted to be at the particle accelerator launch."

"Yeah, no problem. You need help with your project, so it's all good." I smile at her. "So, I have an idea that you may like. I was thinking we, or you, could do an experiment on Huntington's disease. I think Mr. Hunt would be very impressed if you could pull it off by yourself."

She kinda chuckles. "But I'm not doing it by myself. You're doing it."

"We're doing it." I correct. "But he doesn't have to know that."

"So what even is Huntington's disease?" She asks.

"Well, it's a hereditary disease marked by degeneration of the brain cells causing chorea and progressive dementia."

She grimaces. "Sounds so fun."

"Anyway, I managed to procure several DNA samples from several willing participants, some having a medical history of the disease and some not, and I thought for your project we could analyse it and give him a report."

"That sounds kinda simple." She states.

"That's what you'd think, but it's actually a fairly complex process. So, I've separated the strands of DNA which are labeled here." I point to some tubes. "We need to set up the electrophoresis apparatus and make sure the combs are in place. After that I have some instructions I printed out for you to follow, also there are a few other machines you may need so you might want to take a moment and check if they're booted up before you get started, but if you don't mind I was hoping I could get some work done on my project too."

"Oh yeah, that's fine."

"Cool." I grab some papers off a nearby table and hand them to her. "Here you go." Then I make my way across the room to a table next to the wall of windows where I'd set up my computer and things. This wing is by far my favorite part of the building because this entire side is just made of glass, and the third floor, where we are, offers a perfect view of the bay, and just across it, S.T.A.R. Labs. The lights coming from it reflects on the water and I feel like it could make a very beautiful oil-painting, especially with the sky all ominous like that.

Huh. I wonder if they're going to cancel the particle accelerator launch due to the weather. I pull out my headphones and plug them into my laptop, searching for a live news streaming, which isn't too hard to find. '... And the particle accelerator will continue in schedule ...' some news lady informs me as I begin my "project". I've actually already finished my biotech design, but I had hoped to use the university's facilities to further investigate Mrs. Allen's murder. Thus, I begin my research on the Allen trial.

As I go through the infinite resources of the internet writing down important tidbits from the case something flashes in the corner of my eye and I look up in time to see S.T.A.R. Labs explode. "Oh my ..." I trail off as the building produces a mushroom cloud of fire. "Oh my god!" I stand up so quickly my chair falls to the ground.

"What's …" Jenna turns to ask and then falls silent, approaching the glass in disbelief.

I quickly calculate the amount of pressure needed to blow off the top of a building and produce an inferno of that magnitude, and the energy required would be enough to fuel a shock wave that, from this distance, could …

"Jenna! We need to get somewhere without windows!" I grab my laptop and scramble towards the door, but she hasn't moved. "Jenna!"

"My brother works there …"

I make it halfway back to her, intent on us both making it out of here, but not before the windows shatter, launching thousands of projectiles at us. I feel the glass cut through skin and cloth alike as I get thrown against the equipment from the force of the blast, black splotches blooming in my vision upon impact. I fall to the ground and the equipment follows, trapping me underneath.

"Jenna." I manage weakly, struggling against unconsciousness. Pain is the only thing my mind registers as I somehow lift my head to search for her. I only manage to glimpse one thing before my strength gives out: blood.