Summary: As with everything, it has to begin somewhere.
And will you succeed? Yes you will indeed! (98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)
-Past (Zero Days After the Tidal Wave)-
The first time they slept together it was desperation on Barry's part and weakness on Eobard's. Weakness wasn't a word he often used to describe himself and it left a bad taste in his mouth, but there was no denying that was exactly what it had been.
There hadn't been time to think through all the ramifications of stopping Barry and ostensibly letting the tidal wave hit the city – it might have hit either way, it might not have, there was no way of telling. The immediacy of the threat required an equally immediate reaction.
In his race to secure his ancestor's survival and grab the Flash and in dragging the boy to safety, he had managed to consider a few things. For instance, this was going to be a major setback to his timetable. He hadn't had time to seal the particle accelerator properly and the water damage to the circuitry in the pipeline itself was going to take months, if not an entire year to replace, not to mention the damage to the rest of the building, which was, sadly, not airtight. For the first time, Eobard deeply regretted not connected Gideon to the main computer. The AI would, of course, keep the Time Vault sealed, but everything else would be forfeit.
Oh, and his chair. If he could have sighed while dragging Barry outside the city limits, he would have, because the chair was vital to helping build and maintain his speed and it was, most likely, sitting in the middle of Jitters, being swept away with the rest of the city.
After he'd ensured Barry wouldn't be in a position to make a return trip to Central for several hours, he went back to survey the damage and only then did it truly occur to him what he had lost. A year was the minimal amount of time he would need to recover. Gideon also informed him that the meta-humans in the containment cells had been protected against the initial flooding and, when the power had gone out, the cells' locks had failed and they'd escaped confinement, which didn't exactly help his current predicament. Of course, it wouldn't hurt it either, as long as none of them attempted to seek retribution.
By the time Barry had shown back up, a little worse for the wear and in shock, Eobard had managed to compose himself. He'd disposed of Cisco and Caitlin, left Eddie somewhere he would be found soon, and cobbled together a plausible excuse for his own survival.
Watching Barry work through his emotions had been… uncomfortable. He'd lost so much time already that babysitting Barry and his emotional breakdown was trying his patience. Perhaps if it had been just Barry and himself, he could have slipped away for a few hours at a time, but Ronnie had shown up and then Oliver Queen with his entourage and an eagle eye on Dr. Wells, whom he apparently, didn't trust. Interesting, but ultimately annoying.
At least Ronnie'd had the good sense to take his grief back to Pittsburg. He'd of course searched the inside of S.T.A.R. Labs where she'd been when the disaster struck and the immediate surrounding area, her apartment, but after seeing the damage for themselves and, considering their current status as 'wanted by General Eling,' Dr. Stein had convinced him that hovering around the city when there were news crews and cameras everywhere wasn't a good idea.
Not that he let his discontent show. No, he was Dr. Harrison Wells. He was Barry's friend and he'd lost Cisco and Caitlin as well. At the very least, he hadn't had to fake the affect losing them had on him, even if it had been at his own hand. S.T.A.R. Labs had never felt this empty. Perhaps if he'd realized the tidal wave was coming before… but lamenting past actions would earn him nothing. He had to focus on the future – his future – and getting back to it and to do that, he needed Barry. More importantly, he needed the Flash.
The deception was exhausting, not to mention the rescue efforts. He spent his days with Ms. Smoak on the sidelines, offering moral support and at night, he helped Barry and the Arrow continue working until they were all of them ready to drop from exhaustion. When they had worn themselves out, they slept in offices scattered throughout S.T.A.R. Labs, but only for a handful of hours a night, if that.
After Barry pulled Iris's body from the rubble, he waited until the others had gone to bed and crawled into Eobard's cot, seeking comfort from his overwhelming emotions – no doubt misplaced guilt among them.
"She kissed me." Eobard said nothing. "She said that she couldn't stop thinking about me, that she didn't want to and we kissed and it was… God, it was everything I've wanted for so long. I loved her so much and I just left her there."
There was a pause, but it didn't feel over, so Eobard continued to lay in silence, Barry's head on his dampening shoulder. "Eddie cried when I told him I found her. He said he'd been thinking about proposing and I can't tell him that she…"
Barry dissolved into tears, pressing his face into Eobard's dark sweater to muffle the sobs and Eobard kissed the top of his head and stroked his hair until he fell asleep.
After, Barry continued to share his cot and Eobard let him. It was harmless, nothing more than a young man seeking comfort from a mentor, a friend, the only 'family' he had left.
[]
Two weeks after the tidal wave, Team Arrow finally left. Eobard was one suspicious, side long glance away from ripping Oliver Queen's heart out of his chest and feeding it to the well-meaning Felicity Smoak, who wouldn't stop asking him if he was okay, because apparently, bottling up his emotions wasn't healthy and he needed to find an outlet for his grief.
Even with their absence, he found it difficult to get work done. Barry steadfastly refused to give up hope. He was running on almost nothing – little sleep, their waning supply of protein bars, pushing himself until he was physically incapable of going further and even then, only stopping as long as it took to get back on his feet again.
Eobard had tried, just once, to point out that the odds of finding survivors at this late stage were negligible. Dehydration and festering wounds would have killed anyone trapped under the debris. At Barry's broken expression, he once again remembered Cisco and Caitlin, who would never be found, no matter how hard Barry looked, and Joe, who had been taken by Mardon.
While Eobard had remained uncertain as to how he would get Barry to give up the search for his friends, the matter of Joe was resolved four days later. His body was found by boaters cleaning the bay, handcuffed to a platform in the water. It was charred, rotted, and the birds had been picking at it. Barry, who was no stranger to grisly crime scenes, vomited over the edge of the boat. When they found the badge and confirmed it was Detective West, he had to be given oxygen.
The acting Captain sent Barry home for the day and when Barry asked Eobard to lay with him after they got back to S.T.A.R. Labs, he did so with a consoling smile, trying not to let his internal annoyance bleed through. He still hadn't had enough time to even properly assess the damage himself. He'd half hoped Barry's shock would see him bed ridden for at least the rest of the day.
There was fifteen minutes of silence between them before Barry sat up to look down at him. The kiss was unexpected. It took Eobard by surprise, as did the haste with which Barry deepened it when he wasn't pushed away, the way he straddled Eobard's hips. There was no hesitation, no moment of doubt. Barry didn't tell Eobard he didn't have to do this and he didn't ask if he was okay with it. Eobard returned the favor by not reminding Barry that this wouldn't make it better or that he didn't really want this.
What Barry wanted was reassurance that someone was there, someone who loved him and Eobard could have given that without such a physical display. He could have, but he didn't, because after so many loses in the last week – time and effort and energy and plans that had been fifteen years in the making – he needed a win and this was as close to one as he was going to get.
As predicted, the next morning, Barry was awkward and embarrassed, but Eobard assured him that these things happened, especially in the wake of tragedy and nothing need come of it.
In that moment, Eobard had meant those words. His intentions might not have fallen under the category of pure, but seducing Barry had never been in the plan. As it was, the betrayal he was going to have to own up to at the conclusion of this would be devastating. Convincing Barry to go along with his plan was always going to be hard, but adding an intimate relationship to that would make things much more difficult than they needed to be.
[]
At three weeks out, the rescue efforts were cut back and geared more toward body recovery and identification. It was clear Barry hadn't given up, but he insisted he didn't need Eobard there and at least one of them should be getting sleep.
While it wasn't an outright lie, the larger truth was that Barry was uncertain about what had happened between them. Other than the short conversation they'd had the next morning, neither of them had spoken about it. Barry had gone back to sleeping in his own cot in the other office. Eobard didn't mind. It was easy enough to give the boy his space for the time being.
With Barry was gone that day, he worked on the things he had been forced to put off – locating his wheelchair, procuring the power source attached to it, revising his timetable, and logging events with Gideon. Finally getting work done should have been a relief, but the only relief he had was when Barry finally came to him in the early morning hours.
There was nothing sexual in the way Barry curled up around him, but it was certainly more intimate than previous evenings. Instead of positioning himself at an angle so that he could rest only his head on Eobard's shoulder without intruding on his personal space further, he now pressed the full line of his body against Eobard's side and relief washed over him, relaxing him for the first time in days.
No matter what else had gone wrong, no matter the setbacks, he still had the Flash. He still had Barry, at his side, at his disposal. If it took another year to rebuild the accelerator, if it took more, it didn't matter, because the most important, the most vital component to his plan was safely tucked against him. As long as he had that, he could still get back.
[]
When Barry ran out of Cisco's protein bars, Eobard was not initially concerned. They'd had a healthy backup supply, wrapped so the invading waters hadn't soaked through them. Cisco had been nothing if not prepared and if Barry hadn't been pushing himself as hard as he had, he might have managed two months. Instead, he'd blown through them in just under four weeks.
Again, it wasn't a concern, because Eobard had his own supplements and he intended to introduce Barry to them as soon as the need arose. They weren't as well received as he'd hoped.
"You made these for me?"
Eobard smiled. "I thought perhaps you'd prefer not to die of hypoglycemic shock."
Barry bit into it enthusiastically, then froze and the look on his face as he stared down at the bar in his hand was the look of someone who had been presented with truly the most offensive thing they had ever put in their mouth.
Eobard's smile wavered. "You don't like it."
"No, no, it's… it's fine, just… different." Barry continued to eat, though swallowing was clearly forced and willed only by a desire not to offend someone he cared about.
It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do for now. In another month or so, when resources were less scarce, he could make adjustments to find something more palatable to Barry's less refined tastes.
He was on the verge of saying just that when Ms. Smoak walked back into their lab, followed by Ray Palmer, and everything changed.
[]
"I want to go to Starling."
"Why?" Eobard stroked Barry's hair where his head rested in its now routine place on his shoulder. Strange how things could become habit after such a short time. Stranger still that Eobard didn't mind it, considering he had to be careful not to move his legs the entire night.
There were minutes of silence, punctuated by the warm brush of Barry's breath on his chest and Eobard waited.
"We're never going to find them. At least with Dad and Iris and Joe I had closure. They're dead, I hate it, but I know. Cisco and Caitlin are just… gone, washed away with everything else and I need a few days to… process that, I guess, so I can move on." Barry lifted onto his elbow. "Does that make sense?"
"As much as anything."
Barry continued to look at him for several more seconds before dropping down the few inches separating their mouths. Unlike the first kiss, Eobard did expect this one and he reciprocated passively.
It wasn't a heated kiss, spurred by grief, but it was just as desperate in its own right. There was still a feeling of triumph, a deep seeded fulfillment of having Barry give himself over in that way, in a way Eobard had never really considered, but… but he should put a stop it. He should tell Barry that this wasn't sustainable, not for either of them in the long run.
"Barry…"
"Don't. This isn't… it's not like that." Eobard raised an eyebrow and Barry smiled, sad but startlingly bright, given the circumstances. He wasn't sure whether to be impressed or concerned that the boy's sense of humor wasn't entirely dead. "Okay, it's not just that. I've admired you for a long time and getting to know you? You're not just amazing and brilliant, you're a good man. You took Cisco in and believed in him when he thought he was nobody. You stood by Caitlin when she lost Ronnie. You helped me, even when I didn't want to listen to you. You've been patient and kind and there for me in ways I can't even… and it doesn't have to lead to anything if you don't want it to, I'd understand, but I really do. Want it to lead to something, I mean."
He should still say no, but there was determination in Barry's eyes and Eobard needed time. He needed the Flash. A rejection when Barry was so emotionally tenuous could push him away entirely and Eobard couldn't risk that.
He restrained the sigh that had built in his chest and pulled Barry down with a hand on the back of his head, into a soft kiss. "You are certainly not without your charms, Mr. Allen."
[]
The next morning, Barry spoke with the acting Captain and was granted leave. One month and he would take a psych evaluation when he got back, just like everyone else. Barry tried to argue that an entire month wasn't really necessary, a few days would be fine, but there wasn't a lot of forensics that could be done at the moment. The criminals in the city were apparently just as overwhelmed as everyone else, leaving his department surprisingly overstaffed for the circumstances. They'd call him if things picked up.
Of course, Eobard had no intentions of letting Barry go to Starling on his own. The boy was woefully undernourished, choking down far fewer protein bars than he needed and while the trip was meant to be non-life-threatening, danger tended to find Barry even when he wasn't looking for it.
He chose to forego wearing his Reverse-Flash suit while following Barry. It was enough trying to hide his face and presence from Mr. Queen, who was surprisingly vigilant. On at least two occasions in a forty eight hour period, Eobard was almost certain he'd been made.
When Barry rushed out with Mr. Palmer, the Atom of all people, to save Felicity from a highly dangerous meta-human – Deathsomethingorother – he hung back, secure in the knowledge that Barry had faced similarly deadly situations and come out alive, if not unharmed. Then Barry swayed on his feet, the color leaving his face and the meta-human didn't hesitate to fire plasma at his opponent.
Eobard couldn't hesitate, either. There wasn't time to put on his suit, or wait and see if Barry would get his bearings before it was too late. He ran forward, out of cover, grabbed Barry and continued running until they were well outside of the danger zone before stopping again.
It took several seconds for Barry to regain his composure, to look up and see who had grabbed him. With that time, Eobard could have hidden himself and Barry would never have known, but he knew, without a single shadow of a doubt, that if he'd left, Barry would have run back to try and save his friend and Eobard couldn't have that – not when the boy was clearly running on empty.
Green eyes blinked, unfocused until they came to rest on Eobard, then narrowed with confusion. "Harrison, what… what are you…?"
Barry's eyes moved up and down, taking in his mentor, standing, and then around at the unfamiliar alleyway, nowhere near the construction zone they'd been in a moment before. The confusion cleared, replaced by the realization and horror he'd been expecting.
"Barry, don't…" Before he could finish, Barry was up and moving, not fast enough, though, not even close. Eobard grabbed him, pinning him back against the building with jarring force. "…run."
He adjusted his grip to press a forearm into Barry's trachea, limiting his air supply and waited while Barry tried and failed to get his feet under him.
"I'm going to let you go and you're not going to run and do you know why, Barry?" A foot connected weakly with his shin. "Because I'm faster. I'll get there first and Ray Palmer and Felicity Smoak will be two more people you failed to save."
It was harsh, perhaps, but necessary. Barry gaped at him, breathless and dizzy, but suddenly limp in Eobard's hands. With exaggerated slowness, he let Barry go, stopped only an inch away to make sure his threat was being taken seriously before moving back farther.
Barry stared at him, that same expression frozen on his face, a hand pressed to his throat where Eobard's arm had been moments before and Eobard gave him the time to come to all the obvious realizations.
"Simon Stagg." Or, perhaps, the not so obvious. Eobard raised an eyebrow and Barry scowled. "Iris said you were the last one to see him before he went missing. She was suspicious and I defended you."
"I think we can both agree you have something of a blind spot for the people you love."
"God, how could you?! How could you…" Barry's hand reflexively tightened around his own throat and then dropped, his face going uncharacteristically blank. "Tell me it started with the accelerator. Tell me you got your speed when I got mine. Tell me you killed Stagg to protect me. I'll believe you. Just… lie to me. Please."
As tempting as that was – and it was very, very tempting – he knew better. Before he could say that, however, a fist connected with the side of his face and it almost didn't register that it was Barry before the next one slammed into his stomach.
Barry had already been wavering, but even still, there was a ferocity to the blows that Eobard hadn't expect. It took him five minutes to bring Barry down and when he finally managed to it wasn't from the multitude of fists to the solar plexus and temple, or the jabs to his kidneys, but from Eobard getting a grip in the hair on the back of his head and slamming his forehead into the side of the building repeatedly.
That had not gone nearly as well as he'd hoped.
[]
"Barry…"
"I'm not listening."
"If you would just…"
"I can't hear you!"
"This is incredibly childish behavior and I won't…"
Barry pressed his hands tighter over his ears and hummed. Loudly. This was ridiculous. Eobard wasn't sure what he'd expected Barry to do when he'd woken up in one of the pipeline's containment cells, but it certainly hadn't been this.
Really, though, Eobard had brought this on himself. Well, not this precisely, but the sentiment stood. Reaching for the control panel, he tapped through the screens and ran his finger around the dial, lowering the oxygen in the room until Barry was gasping at the thin air, hands no longer covering his ears, but gripping at his throat and chest.
When he was confident he'd made his point, Eobard dragged his finger back around and Barry slumped to the ground, panting.
"Are you finished?" Green eyes glared daggers, but Barry didn't say anything and he didn't move to cover his ears. It was progress. "I was saying, this isn't how I wanted this to go."
"Oh, that's good." Barry moved to sit up on his knees, hands tight in shaking fists. "Go ahead, how exactly did you think this was going to go? You thought I'd, what? Forgive you? For murdering my mom? For letting everyone I love die? For pretending to care about me? For having sex with me, knowing that you had…"
"I'm not expecting forgiveness, Barry, simply understanding."
"Nothing you say could ever make me understand why you did any of that. I lost everything because of you."
"You lost your mother because of me, that's true. Mardon bears the blame for the rest."
Barry's head dropped, but when he looked up, he wasn't any calmer, or more reasonable. "No, you stopped me. I could have saved them."
"Or you could have died."
"Then I should have! I should have died trying to…"
Eobard sucked the air out entirely, cutting Barry off. He gave it a few seconds before turning it on again. "Never say that again. Your death isn't an option."
Barry glared at him through the glass, but at least he wasn't spouting off at the mouth again.
"I do actually care about you, Barry. I know you may find that difficult to believe, but it's the truth. As for having sex with you, I was only letting you take what you wanted."
"What I wanted? I didn't want to have sex with my mother's murderer!" He reached to cut the air off again, but Barry held out a hand, eyes wide and mouth shut.
"No, you wanted to remind yourself that you aren't alone, that you're still loved and I do love you, Barry, in my own way."
The anger wasn't surprising. Eobard calculated that it was going to take several days, if not weeks to convince Barry. What was surprising was the shock of lightening he saw in Barry's eyes, momentarily clouding them red. He shouldn't be able to do that. The cell was designed to suppress the Speedforce.
Before he could second guess himself, Eobard sucked the oxygen from the room and waited until Barry slumped to the floor, unconscious before allowing it back in. Barry's back heaved as he sucked in air, but remained unconscious.
Good, he needed time to think.
[]
His plan wasn't simple, it was, in fact, very complicated, but it hinged on one thing. The Flash. Unfortunately, Barry was stubborn. In the years watching him, Eobard had learned that the boy was stubborn to the point of foregoing self-preservation.
His father, for instance. When it would have served him better to back down and keep his opinions to himself, he had fiercely insisted on the man's innocence. As the Flash, that stubborn persistence had helped his persevere in situations he would have otherwise floundered. It was something Eobard had counted on to keep Barry alive and increase his speed.
In this, however, that same stubborn persistence was a problem. He needed Barry to listen to reason. He needed Barry to continue training to get faster. He needed Barry not to throw himself into danger without thinking, especially now that they were lacking in both technical and medical backup.
For this to work, he was going to need leverage. He got it in the form of a concerned voicemail from Felicity Smoak.
On waking, Barry hadn't tried to get out. He hadn't thrown himself at the glass. The readings from the terminals indicated that he hadn't attempted to access the Speedforce at all, which was good. It meant he likely hadn't realized what he'd done before he'd been put out.
Eobard waited on the outside of the glass patiently for Barry to get annoyed and look up through thick lashes. "What?"
Those eyes followed his hand as it moved behind him and pulled Barry's phone from his back pocket. "Felicity called. She's very worried about you."
"Don't." Barry's face went pale, his voice shaky. "Dr. Wells, Harrison, you say you care about me? I care about them. They're my friends. Leave them out of this."
Eobard rolled the phone in his hand a few times, as if considering, before putting it back in his pocket. "That depends entirely on them. As long as they don't interfere with my plans, I have no reason to hurt them. However, if they were to come looking and find you secured here in the pipeline because of your own obstinance, they might become suspicious and I can't have that."
Barry narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"
"I want you to listen."
Slowly, Barry leaned back against the wall of his cell and pulled his legs up, resting his arms on his knees. "Okay."
[]
The first step, and arguably the most important one, was getting Barry to see him as something other than the Reverse Flash. He wasn't going to accomplish that by talking about the present or even their shared past, so he did neither. He talked about the future, his own personal past – romanticized stories of his childhood. Barry, true to his word, listened, but he said nothing. There was a strange expression on his face, not quite blank but otherwise indiscernible.
At the end of the day, Eobard gave Barry his phone and suggested he call Felicity before she got too worried. He didn't bother warning Barry against saying anything that would alert her, but he did stay and listen. Barry kept his eyes on the floor the whole time and his lie was… passable.
The Reverse-Flash had dragged him from the fight and left him unconscious at S.T.A.R. Labs. Dr. Wells had been too busy patching him up to notice his phone ringing.
"Don't worry about me. Is Ray alright? You did? But, A.R.G.U.S.… Yeah, you're probably right. No, I'll be okay, but, um, I don't think I can make it back. I'm not… I'm not doing as well as I thought I was. Yeah, I know, you're always right. I'll be sure to tell Oliver that next time I see him. No, I'm gonna lay low until I figure it out. Promise. And, Felicity? Thank you."
He ended the call and stared at the screen, making no offer to return it. After nearly a minute of silence, he spoke without look up. "A.R.G.U.S. has Deathstroke. They're okay."
"I'm glad to hear it."
"I doubt that."
"You can doubt it all you want, Barry, but in the last fifteen years, I've only done what I had to in order to get home. You would have done the same."
"No, I wouldn't." Then Barry laughed, looking up finally. "But you really think that, don't you? That it's okay to hurt people, to kill them to get what you want?"
"It's more complicated than that."
Barry raised his eyebrows, a smile digging dimples into his cheeks. "Enlighten me, Dr. Wells. How does you getting home make all of this okay?"
There was something… off. The smile appeared to be genuine in its amusement. Like Barry was listening to a joke and waiting for the punch line. For the first time, Eobard considered that he might have miscalculated. Obviously there was no room for regret – keeping the Flash alive took priority over everything – but there was room for concern and he was definitely feeling stirrings of deep, deep concern.
"Later." He pulled a protein bar from his pocket and tossed it into the cell. Barry's smile dropped instantly and the look he gave Eobard was dripping in contempt, though he said nothing as Eobard dimmed the lights and made his exit, leaving Barry alone with his phone for the night.
[]
He wasn't too worried about leaving Barry with his phone. The only person Barry was likely to call for help was the Arrow and Eobard had made it perfectly clear what he would do if they showed up on his doorstep. Still, it was something of a relief when he woke up the next morning without anything deadly aimed at him and Barry asleep in his cell, one hand clutched around the phone. He hadn't touched the protein bar.
That would have to be remedied and soon, but first, breakfast.
There wasn't much in Central City to eat, FEMA, Red Cross, and a few of the larger fast food chains were supplying most of the city's residents. Thankfully, Eobard wasn't restricted to Central City and with his speed, he was able to get in and out without being seen.
He came back, armed with several dozen cinnamon rolls. The bay door wasn't even fully up when Barry groaned and rolled over onto his back, sniffing the air hungrily. "Oh, god, please tell me those are for me."
It wasn't a question, but Eobard had a point to make. "Eat the bar first."
Barry blinked at him, his eyes slightly clouded from low blood sugar and heavy sleep, phone still tight in his hand. "For real?"
"Do you have any idea how much you would have to eat in order to sustain yourself without protein bars?"
"Roughly the amount of eight hundred and fifty tacos, but that was without cheese and guac."
Eobard smiled at the memory. "Yes, well, I'm fresh out of tacos. Eat the bar."
The standoff lasted a minute and thirty seconds, which was an entire thirty seconds longer than he'd thought it would. In the end, hunger won out. Barry had eaten one bar the previous morning and several large meals between then and now, but it hadn't been nearly enough. His blood sugar had been bad enough when Eobard whisked him off that he'd been forced to hook him up to twenty nutrient bags before putting him in the cell, but it had been nearly ten hours since then.
Finally, Barry took the bar off the floor and ate it, his eyes narrowed spitefully. As soon as the last bite was swallowed, Eobard passed a box with one dozen rolls through the slot. Barry grabbed it and the moment the first one was in his mouth, he melted into the wall, his eyes rolling back into his head at the blissful rush of candied sugar and sharp cinnamon. There wasn't anything intentionally sexual in the way Barry looked and sounded as he groaned, but Eobard couldn't help remembering. He couldn't help likening it to the way Barry had looked straddled over him, eyes closed against an overwhelming combination of grief, pleasure, and pain, all of which Eobard had caused him, was causing him.
"Oh, yeah, clearly the sex was all me." He adjusted his focus from the column of Barry's throat to his eyes, open and staring back with clear contempt.
"As I said, you are not without your charms."
Barry chuckled around another mouthful. "I'll remember that next time someone's trying to kill me. I'll charm them into dropping their guard."
Eobard's chest tightened in unwanted, unwarranted anger that he would have to deal with later. For today, he had other plans.
[]
"Give me the phone, Barry."
"No."
"It's out of battery. It has been out of battery since yesterday. Give me the phone."
"No!" Barry held it to his chest with an irrational stubbornness.
Eobard's hand twitched to reach for the controls, suck out the oxygen and retrieve the device when the boy was unconscious and unable to resist. Instead, he put his hands behind his back and stared at Barry with an even gaze. He had no idea why it was so important – Barry wasn't making calls, there wasn't any accessible wi-fi, and without the battery it wasn't as if he could play any of the downloaded games – but the fact remained it was, apparently, important, and in that, Eobard saw opportunity.
"Give me the phone. I will return it to you in the morning fully charged."
Barry gritted his teeth. "You won't."
"I will. If you were going to call for help, you would have done so by now. I see no reason to keep it from you."
It took another long, arduous five minutes for Barry to move forward and slipped the phone through the opening and into Eobard's hand. When it was done, Barry stepped back to the other side of the cell and sat down, hands empty for the first time in over two days. He didn't look up or make threats, or demand promises. He sat, silent and still, waiting for Eobard to leave him alone for the night. It was the closest thing to defeat Eobard had seen on the boy yet.
Rather than offer unwanted words of comfort, he left and returned the next morning with the phone, full charged as he had promised.
Barry immediately turned it on, thumbs moving over the screen while he was still on his knees at the glass, unaware or perhaps unconcerned that Eobard could see the screen. It only took a moment, but when Barry stopped he was in his photo gallery, where pictures and videos took up half the phone's memory.
Of course, Eobard was appalled at himself for not having thought of it.
Barry sat back against the wall, limp with relief. He didn't make eye contact, he didn't say thank you, he did nothing, but when Eobard asked for the phone the next time it ran out of battery, Barry didn't hesitate.
[]
The shifts in Barry's mood were wildly disconcerting. He could be laughing one minute, depressed the next, angry in a heart beat and rarely over the things Eobard thought he should be upset about.
Like Cisco and Caitlin. Barry had been in a slump, lying on the floor of the cell, clearly not listening to what Eobard was telling him when he'd interrupted. "What do you think happened to them?"
It was annoying, but it was the most interaction he'd gotten all day, so he indulged. "Who?"
"Cisco and Caitlin. I know what happened to everyone else, more or less, but not them. They were here. Their bodies should have been here, but I couldn't find them. Why would they have left the building? Did they try to run? Why didn't they just stay put? Caitlin knew the wave was coming. They could have gotten to one of the labs and waited it out. Why didn't they do that?"
Eobard could have lied. It would have been easy, but if he did and the truth ever came out, it would do irreparable damage. Better to get it over with now, like ripping off Band-aid.
"I killed them." Barry rolled his head over, expression disturbingly blank. "Cisco had figured out the display in the Bunker was a trick and he was well on his way to figuring out who I was. I couldn't let that happen. I wasn't ready for you to know. Although, all things considered, I suppose I did jump the gun on that one. I heard Caitlin on the phone with you, she knew. I took care of them, saved you, and came back to dispose of the bodies."
He waited for the fallout, hand poised over the dial that would suck the oxygen from the room if necessary. Instead, Barry asked, "Was it quick?"
He nodded. "And relatively painless."
Barry stared at him for several more seconds then looked back up at the ceiling with a sigh. "Good."
However, when Eobard brought several dozen donuts one morning and none of them were chocolate, Barry became completely irrational and had to be put under before he hurt himself or, worse, managed to get out of his cell.
Midway through day sixteen, Barry sat up suddenly and said, "I need a shower."
Eobard considered several responses to that, but Barry wasn't waiting. "Come on, Harrison, I can smell myself."
When Eobard still didn't move, Barry stood to match his height. "What do you want from me? You want me to forgive you? Fine, you're forgiven. Hating you won't bring them back anyway, but I can't sit here day in and day out. I need to move. Please?"
That was… a start. "I'll consider it."
[]
He had to let Barry out. He'd already been in there two and a half weeks and there was only another week and a half before the boy would be expected back at work. At that point, Eobard either had to be prepared to keep Barry captive in the long term or be in a position to trust him. Long term captivity would make increasing Barry's speed next to impossible.
However, there would have to be rules. "If I let you out, you don't run."
Barry raised his eyebrows. "No running? How about breathing? Can I breath? Is that okay?"
Fair point. Childish, but fair. "I'll rephrase. No running away. No leaving Central City."
"Where would I go?" Eobard stared silently and Barry caved. "Fine. No leaving Central City."
"You will refrain from risking your own life. That includes monitoring your blood sugar as well as staying out of potentially dangerous situations."
"For real? Who died and left you in charge?" Before Eobard could state the obvious, Barry broke into laughter, curling in on himself.
Perhaps things were worse than he'd suspected. A sense of humor was all good and well, but this was bordering on insanity. Which, given the necessity, he could work with, but not if Barry wouldn't take him seriously.
When Eobard turned to walk away, Barry scrambled up onto his feet, all traces of humor gone. "I'm sorry. No, no, no. I'm sorry. I'll listen. I'm listening. See? This is me, listening. No leaving Central, no risking my life. What else?"
That was better. Not good, but better. "You will tell no one you're the Flash. Your friends in Starling are safe as long as they keep their distance, but from now on, this stays between us."
Barry's eyes dropped, his brows pulled together, and Eobard crossed his arms over his chest. "Who did you tell?"
There was a second of lip chewing. "Eddie. I had to tell someone in the department. I was wearing myself out doing the night searches and people started to notice when I wasn't there first thing in the morning. They started asking questions I didn't know how to answer and I didn't want to bother you because you were staying up with me and you were just as exhausted, so I told Eddie and he covered for me. But he won't tell anyone. I trust him. He was Joe's partner and he won't tell anyone. He hasn't. He hasn't even thought about and he's tried to help me. He…"
He held up a hand to stop Barry's rambling and pretended to consider before agreeing. Of all the people Barry could have told, it had to be the one person Eobard couldn't kill.
Dropping the hand, he nodded. "It is a good idea to have someone on the inside at CCPD and Detective Thawne is as good as anyone, I suppose, but you tell him nothing else. Nothing about me or what I'm really doing."
"I don't even know what you're really doing. I mean, you talk all the time, but you've told me nothing."
"Barry…"
"Fine, yes. Is that all? Can I get out now?"
"As long as you remember your place." Eobard tapped, swiped and scrolled through the screens, then held his hand over the sensor that would identify him as someone authorized to open the door. "Or you will end up back here."
The minute the door opened Barry was gone, out of the cell, out of the bay, presumably out of S.T.A.R. Labs, but Eobard wasn't concerned. Barry would stretch his legs for a while then he'd be back.
[]
He didn't see Barry for several days after, but he didn't need to see him to know he was there, or even what he was doing. Every so often, a bang would issue through S.T.A.R. Labs, originating from the office Barry had been sleeping in. Accompanying the bang would be the appearance of a box.
Of course, Eobard wasn't above snooping. The first few were curious. DVD's, CD's, video games, water damaged, but useable. It wasn't until the third one showed up and he recognized a familiar, amusing t-shirt that he'd realized they were Cisco's things. Caitlin's showed up next, books, mostly, a few pillow and blankets, a picture of her and Ronnie, another of Barry, Cisco and Caitlin together. He hadn't considered it, but her apartment must have been high enough not to take on water.
On the third night, after he heard the bang of a door opening and closing, he'd decided to finish what he was doing before going to check. When he finally made it into the room, he was surprised to find Barry still there, sitting on top of the desk, a plastic pink cup in his hand.
Eobard stopped in the doorway, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Taking a break?"
Barry held up the cup. There was a yellow cartoon bear with a sun on its stomach smiling back at him. "Funshine Bear. Iris's favorite."
He tipped it up to show the bottom and Eobard saw the name 'Iris' written there in black marker.
"She always made me use Bedtime Bear, because I never wanted to get up in the morning." Barry turned the cup over in his hands idly. "There isn't much left of the house. These were in the dishwasher and there were some plastic bins in the basement that were okay. I don't know what's in them."
He should back away. He should leave Barry to his grief, because comfort wasn't what Eobard did and even if he did offer it, he doubted Barry would be very receptive. However, when he noticed the slight shake of Barry's shoulder as he stared down at the plastic cup, he forced himself to step forward and put a hand on the boy's shoulder.
It was a small gesture and one that he did, in fact, mean. He was well acquainted with what it felt like to lose everything in the blink of an eye and perhaps it hadn't affected him as deeply, but then he'd always known there was a way of getting back eventually. Then again, Eobard had never been one to lose himself in simple emotions.
Instead of being pushed away, he found himself wrapped in Barry's long arms, a head buried in his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I should hate you. I do hate you, but I need you. I don't want to, but I do."
Slowly, he put his own arms around Barry and threaded his fingers through the dirty brown hair, letting Barry soak his shirt with tears until they either dried out or perhaps Barry was simply too exhausted to continue. Eobard was certainly exhausted just from listening to it. When he started to move back, the arms around him tightened painfully and there was a soft whisper of, "Don't leave." Into his neck.
"I'm not leaving you, Barry, but I think we could both do with some sleep."
Barry didn't move at first, didn't so much as unclench the fists he'd wrapped in Eobard's sweater. "Just for tonight."
"Of course."
[]
It wasn't one night, but then Eobard had never assumed it would be. He hadn't pressured Barry or suggested anything, because he hadn't needed to. Even in his timeline, the Flash had surrounded himself with people he cared about, people who cared about him. Eobard had never been able to understand it, the compulsion for companionship, but he didn't need to understand it in order to use it.
During the day, Barry kept his distance and at night, he curled into Eobard's side like a lost child and Eobard let him, whispering comfort and stroking his hair until the boy fell asleep. It was enough, at least for the time being.
Barry's suit hadn't left its form since Eobard had dragged him back from Starling. He was, however, taking his phone, which meant Eobard could at least confirm he was living up to his end of their agreement and not leaving Central.
The tracker also confirmed that he was spending most of his time in places connected in one way or another to the people he'd lost – the ruins of the West home, Cisco's water logged and quickly molding apartment, the street where Jitters used to be. Another box appeared in the middle of the night, the name Henry Allen written on it in handwriting that wasn't Barry's. After a very short debate with himself, Eobard looked. It appeared to be his personal affects from the prison.
When Barry didn't show up that evening or the next day, Eobard wasn't worried. While Barry may have sought him out for comfort in times of distress, this was his father, who'd been in prison for something Eobard had done. He assumed Barry was working off his grief somewhere else, which was… relieving, but also unnerving.
There was so much to be done. So much time lost.
It didn't occur to him to worry until he ran a check on Barry's phone the following morning and found it in Cisco's lab. He humored himself by checking, but as he'd suspected, Barry wasn't there. Neither was his spare suit. Its emblem with the tracking device sat on the table beside the useless phone, and next to them was a Stick-It note. At the top the words 'This isn't what it looks like' were crossed out, as was the next line of 'Be back soon,' and under that was written 'Sorry.'
It had been years since he'd felt the level of anger that welled up in that moment. Three rules – stay in Central City, don't risk your life, don't tell anyone. They weren't exactly unreasonable requests and at the very least, he was certain Barry was breaking two of them – he was definitely outside of Central City and, knowing the Flash, he was in all likelihood risking his life while doing it.
With concerted effort, he tapped down on the urge to do violence. It wouldn't do any good at the moment, better to wait and decide where best to point his rage. At least, through the Speedforce, he was able to confirm Barry was alive; however, he was unable to tell where he was or if he was injured.
There was nothing to do but sit and wait for Barry to make an appearance. That, and plan a fitting punishment. It was so disappointing. Barry was due to start work again on Monday, in less than twenty four hours. Now, Eobard was going to have to contact the acting Captain and try to persuade him to give Barry another few weeks without raising suspicions.
By the time Barry streaked into the room, it was well past midnight and Eobard was almost too tired to be angry. Almost.
Barry dropped into a chair on the other side of the room, sending it spinning and let it continue to spin until it came to a stop on its own, his smile wide. "Harrison!"
Eobard raised an eyebrow and Barry's smile dropped comically fast. "You got my note."
He nodded slowly and Barry bit his lip. "Yeah, you got my note. That… I had to. Had to. Oliver needed my help. He needed my help. I had to."
Of course this would be about Oliver and his cohorts. It appeared that, even without knowing what was going on, they were going to be an issue. More troubling, however, was the way Barry spoke, the way he didn't stop moving. His knees were jostling up and down, his hands were twisting worriedly around each other, his eyes were everywhere – the floor, the windows, the walls, Eobard, his shoes, his fingernails.
Barry bit his lip again, chewed nervously and looked at Eobard again with large, too bright green eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but I had to…"
"You said that."
Barry nodded, a little too enthusiastic. "I know. I know, but don't be mad. You can't be mad. They needed me. I wouldn't have done it if they didn't need me. I would have told you, but you might have stopped me. I couldn't let you stop me. I couldn't risk it. They're my friends. I couldn't just let them die. I had to, but I didn't get hurt. No one saw me. No one even knows I was there. Except, you know, Oliver and Felicity and a few guards and… but that's not the point. The point is I'm back now and it's okay. I'm okay."
While Barry rambled, Eobard noted the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the sickly pallor of his skin. That coupled with the glassy quality of Barry's eyes were all symptoms Eobard was very familiar with.
"Barry, your blood sugar is low."
Barry stopped talking and stared. Slowly, he started to smile. "I didn't want to stop until I got back. Didn't want to worry you."
"You didn't want me to find out."
"Well, no. Obviously." He laughed, leaning forward. "Hey, you wanna hear a secret?"
"Hm."
"I think I'm gonna pass out." Eobard was just confused enough by the whispered confession that when Barry's eyes rolled back into his head, he didn't move fast enough to stop the boy from falling out of the chair, hitting the floor with a heavy thump.
This really wouldn't do.
[]
He needed to know what Barry had been up to and if it was going to require damage control. All things considered, Eobard was a patient man. He didn't mind biding his time to get the results he wanted. The last fifteen years were proof enough of that. However, every man, Eobard included, had a breaking point and Barry Allen was teetering dangerously close to his.
He took Barry back to their room and gave him a line and fifteen bags of nutrient rich fluids over the course of three hours, enough for Barry's vitals to level out and his glucose readings, while not ideal, to no longer be in the range of someone who should have long since slipped into a coma. When he was convinced Barry was out of immediate danger, he began the process of waking him up.
Calling Barry's name, predictably, had no affect, neither did sending small shocks through him. A larger shock did cause his body to jerk, but that was nothing more than a physical reaction. Reaching down, Eobard ran a thumb over the relaxed, lower lip once before pulling back, striking the side of Barry's face with the back of his hand.
It was crude, but affective – and more than a little satisfying. The crack resounded through the room and Barry's eyes popped open, wide and green and alert. He looked around, momentarily confused, until he settled on Eobard standing to the side and he broke into a wide grin. "Hey, Dr. Wells. Harrison."
There was a slur to his speech that said he wasn't entirely lucid.
"Barry, do you know where you are?" Barry nodded. "Where are you?"
"S.T.A.R. Labs. Your bed." The second was said with a wink and a huff of laughter.
"Do you remember how you got here?" Another wordless nod. "How did you get here?"
"I ran."
Eobard resigning himself to pulling answers from the boy. "From where?"
"Nanda Parbat."
"What?!" That was in Tibet. At his current average speed it would have taken Barry nearly twelve hours to get there, never mind the trip back and whatever he'd done in the interim.
"It's in Tibet."
"I know where it is! What were you doing there?"
Barry smiled wanly. "I was helping Oliver."
Eobard pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort not to backhand Barry again. "How were you helping Oliver?"
"Was helping…" Barry's eyes lost focus and he had to blink several times. When he stopped, his face twisted in confusion. He frowned at the arm at his side and the tube stretching from it to the bag of nutrients, currently set to a slow trickle. "Is that an IV? Why do I have an IV?"
"Because you decided to run to Nanda Parbat and back without proper sustenance. Now, Barry," he reached down and grabbed Barry's face under the chin, "focus. How were you helping Oliver?"
"I helped Felicity and the others get out of the League's dungeon while Oliver dealt with Ra's al Ghul." Barry pulled his face away from Eobard's hand and sat up on his elbows. "It was a real dungeon, like stone and steal and in a mountain. We should get you a dungeon. You're evil. I'm sure you can find someone to put there."
"At the moment, I'd consider putting you there." Ra's al Ghul and the League of Assassins was not something to trifle with and Eobard could only hope that whatever Barry had done to help them escape wouldn't draw too much attention. He could, of course, deal with it if necessary, but he'd rather not. At least Barry had worn his suit and the chances were his secret identity remained in tact. "Lay down before you hurt yourself."
Barry complied, looking up through heavy lidded eyes and thick lashes. "You wouldn't put me in a dungeon."
"Wouldn't I?"
"No, because you care about me. 'S what you said. That you love me."
There was something imploring about the way he'd said it, questioning and Eobard leaned forward, his mouth inches away from Barry's cheek. "Which is precisely why I would consider locking you in a dungeon – so that you can no longer pursue fruitless endeavors that may very well get you killed."
"Not fruitless. They're alive."
Which was the problem, but Eobard wasn't going to get anywhere with Barry in this condition. He had his answers, the rest could wait. "Go to sleep, Barry. We'll continue this discussion when you wake up."
Barry nodded, his eyes already closed and Eobard was fairly certain he heard a mumbled, "Thank you," as Barry's breathing evened into sleep.
[]
He hadn't been lying when he'd said that he would lock Barry away if he had to and while he might not have a dungeon, he did have the pipeline. After a rapid influx of another thirty bags, he carried Barry down to the pod, sealed him in, and waited. It didn't take long for Barry's eyes fluttered open. He breathed in deep, looking up at the ceiling blankly.
It was another few minutes before Barry sat up with a groan, putting a hand to his head. "Ow. Why does it feel like a semi ran into the side of my face?"
Interesting. "You don't remember?"
Barry raised his eyebrows and stretched his jaw experimentally, flinching. "The last thing I remember is trying to get back here before you noticed I was gone. That, and a really stunning sunset. The way the colors reflect off the water in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean is just breathtaking. Seriously, though, did I run into a wall?"
"Something like that." Barry dropped the hand from his face – it was pale yellow and healing fast, but it would still be a few hours – and relaxed against the wall, for all appearances resigned to his fate. "You don't seem surprised to be locked up."
Barry shrugged, "I figured you would. The odds I could run there and back without you finding out were… well, anyway, it's what you threatened to do and I did break two of your rules. Besides, the room service is pretty good. Do I get donuts again?"
Perhaps he was going about this wrong. Clearly, the idea of the pipeline wasn't all that concerning. The last time it had taken over two weeks for Barry to crack. Even if Barry caved sooner this time around, it would be too long – Barry was due back at the station in the morning and Eobard didn't want to bring suspicion down on himself; especially not from his ancestor.
He needed another tactic. The one that immediately came to mind was one that had worked before and he saw no reason why it wouldn't again.
"It would appear that I'm going to have to lower my expectations." With an overly resigned sigh, he used the key pad to open the door to the cell. Barry didn't move, rightfully suspicious. "Leave if you want – there's no where in the world you can go that I can't find you. Go to your little friends in Starling and see how long it takes me to rip through them."
Barry stood, swaying on his feet once before standing firm. "Don't you dare lay a hand on them! You said…"
"That as long as they kept their nose out of my business, I'd leave them alone and I will, but how long do you think it will take Oliver Queen to figure out something's wrong with you?"
"There's nothing…"
"Don't pretend to be stupid, Barry, it doesn't suit you." Barry's lip curled into a snarl and he dropped his head down, looking at the floor. "You know as well I do that it won't take them a day to figure out you're hiding something and what then? How long after that before Felicity wears you down or you slip up and then they'll try to protect you or they'll try to stop me and I'll have no other choice."
Red lightning flashed across Barry's eyes as he looked up and ran, shoving Eobard back and out of the bay, into the wall of the corridor. "You don't touch them!"
"That is entirely up to you."
The silence stretched between them, Barry's face twisted in an unfamiliar expression of confusion and anger. "But… why? Why does it matter what I do? Where I go? Why do you care if I get hurt or if I don't let my friends die? What… I don't understand."
It probably was about time to tell Barry the entire truth, but first. Eobard lifted his arms, shoving them up between their bodies and used his forearms to push Barry's hands to the sides, breaking his grip on Eobard's sweater then reversed their position, twisting around so it was Barry against the wall with Eobard pressing into him.
"There, that's better." Barry met his gaze evenly. "I told you I'm from the future, that I'm stuck, that I'm looking for a way back. What I haven't told you is that you are how I get there."
"Me?"
"You don't know it yet, but you can travel through time. Your speed, the Flash's speed, is the key. If you go fast enough, we can open a wormhole, you can go back into the past, save your mother, change everything, and I can go home."
The intensity of Barry's stare faltered, his voice dropped to a breathy whisper. "Everything?"
"One little thing can change so much. Ripples in a pond, Barry. You can go back and save your mother, have your family back, your friends. All you have to do," Eobard leaned in, pushing against Barry harder, "is not get yourself killed in the mean time."
Barry was limp under him, held up almost entirely by Eobard's grip. "How do I…?"
"The particle accelerator."
"What?"
"When I've finished repairing it, we'll use it and your speed to open the wormhole."
"No, not… How do I know it's any better?" Eobard froze, too stunned by the question to form a proper reply. "How do I know everyone is even still alive? For all I know the tidal wave still hits and I still lose everyone, only this time I won't even have you."
Of all the responses Eobard had imagined, the idea that Barry would dismiss the possibility of a better future was not one of them. "I assure you, that isn't the case."
"You assure me?" Barry outright laughed, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, before he returned to glaring. "Good to know I have the assurance of someone who has done nothing but lie to me since we first met."
"I haven't lied to you in over a month."
"Oh, well, that's okay then."
He pushed against Eobard and Eobard pushed back, gripping Barry's wrists to pin his hands to the wall on either side of his head, holding them tight enough that the bones ground together, just shy of breaking. "The truth is, Barry, I don't need you to believe me. I need you to…"
"You need me? I needed them. Screw your plan. If you need me so much that you'd let thousands of people die to keep me alive, I'll just end it now. Where would your precious plan be then?"
While he was reasonably certain Barry didn't mean it, that it was nothing more than words said in anger with no real intent, they still sent a chill through him.
"No. No, Barry, because if you did that, I would burn the world. I'd tear it down and leave ashes in its place and then I'd find a way to start over, because there is always a way. And then… then I would make you regret it."
Barry bucked up, fought violently against the restraint with Eobard pressing into him to keep him in place. There was a scream, wordless and hurt. It was getting harder to hold Barry still, if he kept thrashing around, Eobard was going to lose his grip… and then Barry's mouth crashed against his, lips at first, followed by teeth, biting into Eobard's lip until he tasted his own blood and the salt of Barry's tears. It was less of a kiss and more of an attack, but it let loose something primal. An urge to have what he'd been unable to before, to be an active participant, to pin Barry under him and show him exactly what he was capable of, what they were both capable of.
He took Barry's face in his hands, taking control of the kiss and deepened it until he had to pull back to breathe. As soon as their lips parted, Barry used Eobard's distraction against him, shoving him to put Eobard's against the opposite wall.
Barry snarled, "I won't let them die."
Eobard shoved back, hard and Barry cried out as he hit the wall, stunned just long enough for Eobard to insinuate his leg between Barry's. "I won't let you die."
He wrapped his hand around Barry's throat, squeezing just hard enough to make breathing difficult, but not impossible as he rubbed his thigh up, vibrating his body against Barry's. Even then, he still expected Barry to push him away, to run and hide for a day or, at the very least, to tell him to stop. Instead, he pulled Eobard closer, kissed him with teeth while digging nails into his shoulders.
When Barry finally broke off, there was blood on his mouth and lightening in his eyes and Eobard smiled.
[]
"You suck."
Eobard stroked a hand through Barry's hair, tugging. "Very well, I've been told."
"I think you broke a rib." Barry shifted against him and groaned. "God, I have work in an hour and I'm not even sure I can walk."
"You can walk."
"Maybe, but you still suck."
"I didn't hear you complaining when you came so hard you blacked out."
"No offense to your sexual prowess, but the broken rib may have been a contributing factor to my passing out."
"I highly doubt it's broken." Eobard probed the injury and Barry cursed loudly. Hm, there was no tail tell shift of bone under his hand, but it may very well be cracked. He hadn't intended it to be quite so rough, but Barry hadn't exactly been a docile partner and it was by far the most satisfied he'd been in years. "You'll heal."
Barry sat up, cringing as he picked his sweat pants up off the floor. "I need to look for an apartment."
A strange sense of possessiveness darkened his otherwise pleasant mood. Somewhere in the last two months, he'd become accustomed to having Barry with him; if not in his bed, then within these walls, where Eobard could be certain he was safe and, for lack of a better term, under thumb. The idea of Barry having a place to go that was outside of Eobard was… intolerable. As unstable as he was, who knew what he would say or do without supervision.
He waited until Barry had pulled on his pants, swearing under his breath, to continue the conversation. "Where would you look?"
Barry glanced at him over his shoulder, cautious, but not hostile. "I don't know. The ones that have power are way out of my price range, but as long as there's running water, I'll be fine."
"What about a refrigerator for food? You will need to eat."
"I'll figure something out."
Eobard sat up and Barry's shoulders tensed as he laid a hand on them. "You could always stay with me."
The tension bled out as Barry's eyes widened in shock. "With you?"
"My house has solar panels, so power isn't an issue and it was far enough outside the city that there's no water damage to speak of. Not to mention, a bed would certainly be more comfortable than a cot."
"No." Barry jerked away from him, stumbling a little on his way to the desk where his shirt was. "I'm not moving in with you and this – whatever this is – is never happening again."
Oh, and Eobard could let it go. He could say, 'of course' knowing that eventually Barry would seek him out for comfort that Eobard would take full advantage of. He could, but he really wasn't in the mood.
Barry had barely managed to turn his sweatshirt out before Eobard sped off the cot, into his own pants, and came to a stop in front of Barry, a hand wrapped around the back of Barry's neck. When Barry pulled back, he tightened the grip. "Harrison, I don't want…"
Eobard dropped his mouth to Barry's neck, brushing teeth against the pressure point and felt the shudder that vibrated through Barry. "Think about it, Barry. Do you even remember what you said?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Nanda Parbat." Barry shoved back with wide eyes. "You told me exactly where you'd been, and what you'd done, and you don't even remember doing it."
He took a step forward and Barry followed it with a step back, until his thighs hit the desk and Eobard had him boxed in. "What happens the next time you do something stupid? And don't bother saying you'll be careful, we both know better."
"I don't…"
"What if you run into someone? Detective Thawne, perhaps? Don't think I haven't noticed the missed calls. Forty two in the last three weeks? He's worried about you, Barry. You should get back to him before he decides to come here and check on you. What if…" Eobard reached up and brushed Barry's sweat damp hair from his brow. "What if he stops by your apartment and you say something – something you don't even remember saying – and then he comes after me and I end up having to… take care of him."
Barry's breath caught in his throat and his jaw clenched. "Is that a threat? I move in with you or you'll kill Eddie?"
If only.
"Oh, no, Barry, I'm not threatening you. I'm manipulating you. You don't have to move in with me. I won't retaliate if you choose to get your own place. I'm simply making you aware of the risks." He cupped Barry's cheek as the confusion in those bright green eyes slowly gave way to anger. "I care about you, Barry. I wouldn't want you to lose anyone else because of your own carelessness."
Barry's face shuddered, closed off for a moment, and then lit up. Eobard let Barry get in a few blows - a fist to the side of his face, a foot in his stomach with enough force to knock him across the room – before taking the advantage. He had the benefit of a clear head, full caloric charge, and years of experience. Even so, getting the boy back under him was harder than expected. It was nothing like fighting the Flash in his time. It was unhinged. Barry wasn't fighting just to win, he was fighting to do damage, to hurt Eobard with teeth and nail and a knee that came dangerous close to his groin.
Eventually, he managed to maneuver Barry to the ground, wrists pinned above his head, and Eobard stretched out between his legs, using his whole body to hold Barry down. Barry wiggle, squirmed, struggled to get out from under him, but what little energy he'd had at the start was waning, so Eobard held tight, letting Barry burn himself out until he was limp and panting.
When Barry had finally been reduced to glaring, Eobard relaxed his grip minutely. "Are you done?"
The surge forward was unexpected enough that it nearly worked. Thankfully, Eobard managed to hang on.
Barry glared up at him. "You lose."
"I what?"
"You couldn't beat me in your time, so you had to come back and try to kill me as a child and then… then you couldn't even do that. And maybe I don't win either, but no matter what, you. Still. Lose."
He saw red. He didn't even realize he had a hand around the boy's throat until Barry's eyes were rolling back into his head and his lips had turned a startling shade of purple. Eobard let go instantly, standing up to get distance between them, because the urge strike out again was nearly overwhelming.
The air rushed into Barry's lungs. His body surging up as he choked on the influx, dissolving into fits of coughing.
That was close, too close. Eobard hadn't felt that kind of unbridled rage in a long time. He was breathless with it. Barry didn't move from where he'd been left on the floor, one hand clutching at his own bruised throat.
When Eobard was relatively certain he had himself under control, he knelt down, not touching Barry, but setting himself close enough that there was no way for Barry to miss what he was saying. "I know you're upset, you have every right to be, but don't let that cloud your judgment. My threat stands regardless of whether you take your own life, or provoke me into doing it for you. Tell me you understand."
"I understand." The words were barely audible, a rough whisper, but it was enough.
He stood up and went to the desk, pulling two protein bars from the drawer and tossed them on the ground beside of Barry's prone body. "Eat and take a shower. I'll drive you to the station."
[]
It was impossible to tell whether Barry's silence was spurred by anger, submission, or if he was simply pouting, but whichever it was, he didn't say a single word either before or during the drive. Not that Eobard was feeling particularly conservative himself.
He shouldn't have lost his temper. Barry was young and impetuous, hurt and betrayed. He'd lashed out. His only real fault was that he'd managed to stumble across one of the few things that could enrage Eobard. Even knowing that, however, it was still hard to put the anger aside and move past it. His inability to beat the Flash was an open wound that refused to heal – that it was Barry bringing it up had only made it worse.
Still, he couldn't let it fester. While he was fairly certain that at this point Barry would stay with him regardless of what Eobard did or did not do, he couldn't take the risk. He'd have to swallow a small portion of his pride and find a way to apologize that would come across as genuine. It couldn't be an outright lie, there had to be truth in it – if not the whole truth, then at least part of it.
He parked and pulled his glasses off, rubbing his eyes in an effort to steel himself for what he needed to say. "I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have done that."
Barry's voice was dripping with disdain as he spoke to the window. "Shouldn't have what? Threatened to kill Eddie if I didn't move in with you or threaten to literally destroy the world if I pissed you off enough."
"Neither. I shouldn't have lost my temper." Barry still wasn't looking at him, which was childish, but expected. "When I came here, I hated you. I hated every version of you, in every possible future. It was all consuming and then I failed to kill you and I was stuck here and I had to wait. I had to watch you grow up. I had to create you and take you under my wing and work with you and my feelings changed. Immensely. More than I ever thought possible."
"You said that your feelings for me stemmed from the things I've done – for Cisco, for Caitlin, for you – and regardless of who I really am or where I came from, it was still me who did those things and I did them because I wanted to. I want to help you. I want to give you back what you lost. I promise you, Barry, if you save your mother, there will be no tidal wave. You will have her and your father. Iris and Joe will be alive. Cisco and Caitlin will be alive."
Barry stared out the window at the doors of the precinct for several silent seconds before he sat up straight. "I'm late."
Eobard stopped him with a hand on his shoulder as he reached for the door handle. "Barry, wait. My offer of a place to live still stands and, if it makes the decision any easier, I have wifi through S.T.A.R. Labs satellites. A small misuse of company resources, perhaps, but it does mean that you will have reliable, fast internet from home, a luxury I'm not sure you'll find anywhere else in the city."
Barry turned to him, his face set in the same carefully blank expression it had worn for the last hour, then slowly, he broke into a smile. "That is a much better manipulation tactic than threatening to kill people. For real. I might actually consider it."
He was out of the car before Eobard could say anything, running across the street to the precinct and leaving Eobard rushing to get into his wheelchair and out of the van. He was going to have to do something about that and soon. This particular ruse had outlived its usefulness the moment Barry discovered who he really was.
By the time he made it inside and up the elevator, Barry was already standing at the front desk nervously hunched in front of Eddie and someone in a wheelchair that Eobard didn't recognize, though he was fairly certain he knew him from somewhere.
Barry turned at the ring of the elevator and his shoulders instantly lost their tension when he saw Eobard moving toward them. "Harrison! Look who's here!"
It took him a moment to put a name of the face. Captain David Singh. Last he'd heard the Captain had been moved to Coast City in the wake of the disaster. The original diagnosis had been dire, but, wheelchair aside, he looked well. He certainly didn't look like someone who had suffered a potentially fatal head injury.
"Captain Singh, what a pleasant surprise. Here for a visit?"
"No, actually, I've been reinstated."
That was… surprising. Though, not unwelcome. The acting Captain had been a bull of a man who clearly had not been cut out for the job. Eobard had been of the opinion that he was probably going to have to cull the ranks, so to speak, until a suitable replacement was found. While he didn't have many dealings with the Captain himself in this timeline, Singh had, at the very least, been competent and willing to work with the Flash when necessary. It suggested a malleability that could come in handy.
"If you ask the doctors it's a miracle, if you ask Rob, it's my never ending stream of dumb luck, but, either way, I'm not in nearly as bad a shape as I could be. Once the swelling went down, there was no permanent brain damage and the spinal injury has actually healed almost completely. The physical therapists say I should be walking within the year, though we're taking it slow. In the meantime, someone has to clean up the mess Reggie made of the department."
Barry chuckled into his hand, eyes downcast as Eddie nodded gravely. "I've been trying to get in touch with Barry for the last two weeks, ever since Singh got back, but he hasn't been returning my calls."
That certainly explained the volume of missed calls. Eobard raised his eyebrows at Barry who shrugged. "Sorry, I just… I needed some time."
Captain Singh put a hand on Barry's arm and Eobard didn't want to feel jealous, but he almost couldn't help it, especially when Barry leaned into it. "Are you okay? All joking aside, if you're not ready to come back…"
Barry looked up at that, eyes wide and a little desperate. "No, no, I'm good. I'm ready. More than ready."
There was a significant pause. The Captain kept a hand on Barry's arm, staring up at him like he was trying to read Barry's expression. Whatever he saw must have satisfied his curiosity, because he nodded. "Okay, good, 'cause there's a new guy up there and I'm half afraid he's gonna throw himself out a window if someone doesn't dig him out of the paperwork soon. Come by my office later."
With Barry's agreement, the Captain moved forward to shake Eobard's hand. "Good to see you again, Dr. Wells."
"Likewise."
When Captain Singh was through the doors and out of earshot, Eddie looked around nervously, at the other officers passing by and at Eobard sitting not too far off, before turning his attention to Barry. "Barry, that, um… that wasn't the only reason I was calling."
"Hm?"
"I was really worried. I know you said you had it handled, but, maybe next time pick up the phone and let me know you haven't run off to save the city from some unknown threat and gotten yourself killed?"
Barry rubbed his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry about that. Like I said, I needed some time, so…"
"Or, maybe, you could move in with me?"
Barry froze, his downcast expression purely shock and if Eobard hadn't had years of practice, he knew his would have been similar. It shouldn't have been. It was an obvious move given Eddie's nature. Perhaps it was simply the timing, so soon after Eobard's own offer.
Eddie fumbled to continue. "Not, you know, like that. But it would be easier to keep an eye on you. My loft got power last week and it's just down the street and I know it isn't very private, but I'm not exactly looking to bring a lot of girls over and we can get you your own bed. Not as a permanent thing, but for a while, until…"
"I'm moving in with Harrison."
Eobard just managed not to raise his eyebrows at the blurted statement.
"You're what?"
"Yeah, it's just… back when I first…" Barry dropped his voice to a whisper, "became the Flash, it was hard to be in an apartment. Too many neighbors and it can get loud when I'm running in and out. Harrison has a house just outside of town, so it's private and…"
With sidelong, almost nervous glance at Eobard, Barry continued, voice still low. "He's the closest thing to family I have left, so… and I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I'm moving in with Harrison."
Eddie put a hand on Barry's shoulder and the instant, uncomfortable tension that created was satisfying. "I understand, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm here."
"Thanks." Barry waited until Eddie was back at his desk to turned around, looking down at Eobard for nearly a full minute, before he closed the distance between them, bending down to brace his hands on the arms of Eobard's wheelchair, their faces inches apart. "I want my own room."
"Of course." He had more than enough rooms for Barry to have one, though there was no doubt in his mind that Barry would find his way into Eobard's bed by the end of the week.
Barry's eye narrowed suspiciously, but he didn't say anything to the obvious placation. "See you after work. Don't bother picking me up. I can get home on my own."
He turned abruptly to go up the stairs, not waited for a reply.
There was something different about Barry now, something less stable and far more volatile. Eobard couldn't say whether he was pleased with the change, or simply the outcome, because while it certainly wasn't ideal, it also wasn't without its benefits. All that really mattered, however, was that his plan remained largely unaffected. He could still use Barry to get home; it was just going to take a little longer.