Title: The Trials of a Teenage Speedster
Summary: Life as a teenager is tough; between mean teachers, malicious bullies, ridiculous workloads and a love life heading nowhere, it's hard to find a reason to get up in the morning. Of course, throw in superpowers, vigilantism, supervillains and a mountain of secrets and lies, and your life's just gotten a lot harder. Barry Allen can attest to that. Eventual SnowBarry. Slow Burn.
Beta Reader: Currently, none
Created: 20/04/17
Modified: 20/04/17, 21/04/17, 22/04/17 , 23/04/17, 24/04/17, 26/04/17
Total word count: 5791
Published: 26/04/17
Arc 1- Genesis of a Hero
Chapter 9- Frosty Foes
By SilentEevee
Barry stumbled around the ventilation shafts trying to co-ordinate himself are relying on his terrible navigation skills to get him someplace at a far enough distance from Snart or his goons to let him sneak out of the shaft. Of course, this would've been easier if he had a map of the shafts. Or even knew what part of the building he was in. It was hard to deduce your position when all the corridors looked the same, but the fact that he hadn't gotten use to the layout yet and didn't know what most of the labs were for in the first place just made it all the more frustrating.
"Snart? What going on? You look pissed."
The voice filtered through from below, and Barry froze. It seemed to originate from around 20 feet away from his position, if one were to ignore the elevation, where a small metal opening could be seen. He dared not breathe, lest the group of criminals somehow hear.
"Good thing you can't kill with just your eyes or you would've melted a hole through the wall by now, or frozen it, in your case." Another voice called out.
"Shut it, Fred. This isn't the time for your puns- one of the brats escaped."
There was a beat of silence as the group below processed this information. Then-
"Shit."
"Yeah, shit," Snart mocked. "Kid must've had a lighter on him, because the ropes were charred. The bastard made it to the vents; he could be anywhere by now."
A small squeak nearly made Barry jump up, if not for the fact that such an action would've been impossible for such a crowded fact. Turning his head towards the origin of the sound, Barry was unpleasantly surprised to come face to face with a giant brown rodent which seemed to be staring at him with a beady-eyed curiosity. Barry resisted the urge to groan. Of all the times to come face to face with a possibly diseased rat, it had to be now. Carefully, he backed away from his position, moving behind a corner in attempt to escape the vermin. He winced as he moved just a tad too hastily, and ended up bumping against the walls of the shaft.
"Did you hear something?" one of the guys asked.
"I didn't hear nothing, Jake."
"Coulda sworn I heard something. Did you… Len? Why are you staring at the ceiling?"
"…There's a ventilation shaft that passes right above us."
Shit.
Barry heartbeat thumped in his ears as he heard the opening of the shaft being pried open from below. Risking a quick peak, he could see the rat still sitting there, content, staring curiously at where a man was trying to grip the edges of the vent, in his attempt to hoist himself up. He ducked his head back, and held his breath as he heard the dull thump of someone trying to squeeze into the small space.
"I think I should go in the rest of the way, Len- I don't see anybody from over-"
The man abruptly cut himself off, and Barry's breath hitched as he wondered if he'd been caught. He didn't think any part of his was visible, but he might have miscalculated. That would be bad; he was a sitting duck up here- there wasn't much room to dodge a bullet if he'd had a gun pulled on him, regardless of his superspeed.
Then he heard a squeak, no doubt originating from the damned rat. And then a high-pitched squeal as the criminal recoiled in surprise and disgust once he noticed the furry rodent. The sound of a dull thud as something small hit the walls of the shaft after being slapped aside reached his ears.
And then all hell broke loose as the rodent charged forwards to attack what it perceived as its enemy. There was a yelp as the rat bit down on the man's hands, and a sudden crash as the man, who'd released his grip on the shaft on instinct, fell down the opening, and Barry finally deemed it safe to observe the scene playing out as the loud groan echoed up to the cramped space.
The rat, with its face slightly stained with blood, took one crazed look at him, bared it's teeth and darted back in the direction from which it'd come. Beneath him, he could hear the man screaming about the bite, about how he was probably infected with a dozen diseases that Barry was surprised the criminal even knew about, and Snart yelling at the melodramatic man to calm down and go get medical help, if he was so worried, because panicking wasn't going to do anything to help his situation.
Barry took the opportunity to sneak further into the vents and gain as much ground as he possibly could.
Barry winced as he hit the ground, his legs protesting under the force and collapsing him to his knees. Briefly, he made a mental note to learn how to properly jump down from high places, before climbing back up to his feet.
Glancing towards the nearest lab door- 'Biochemistry lab 12'- he soon ducked to the side and pulled out the map of the building he'd been given earlier during his orientation. Studying it for a brief moment, he soon put it away and turned to what he believed was the correct corridor.
Guards were surprisingly more frequent than he'd thought they'd be- there had to be at least five guarding the corridors of this floor alone. That could either mean that Snart decided that there were important or dangerous individuals that required constant guard on this floor, or that he'd had enough men with him to spread them out evenly across each floor of the building with that number.
Barry hoped it was the former.
Quietly, he sped behind one of the five guards in the room, the one closest to his position, kicked the back of her knees, and sent her tumbling to the floor before she could even blink. The woman grunted with surprise as she tried to pick herself up and face her assailant, whilst also scrambling for her sidearm. Reacting quickly as she clasped her gun, Barry snatched it from her grip and used it to knock her in the back of her head, sending her to the ground, unconscious.
Barry heard footsteps of the guards who'd heard the commotion approach him. Quickly, he raised his stolen gun, hoping he looked threatening enough to dissuade his attacker from shooting on sight, but soon realised how futile it would be as he was surrounded from all sides, each guard with a gun trained on him.
"Don't. Move," one of the guards growled as he glanced at his fallen comrade. "Put your hands up and give us the gun, or you'll end up with more holes in you than Swiss cheese."
"You'd shoot an innocent kid?" he asked weakly, trying to find a way out of his situation.
"Kid? You just took down Maria- and she was armed. I'd say that warrants the caution of the gun," another stated dryly.
"Point taken," Barry agreed with a sigh, raising his hands up in the air, while dropping the gun and kicking it to the other side of the room. It wasn't a big loss, however. He hadn't planned on using it, besides perhaps as a decoy deterrent. The guards relaxed their hold on their weapons, two of which even put them away all together.
"Good kid. Smart choice," the first guard stated, as he moved forward to restrain the speedster.
Barry waited silently until the man was in punching distance. He moved to restrain his hands, but Barry quickly brought them down against his ear, using just the tiniest amount of his super speed, sending him to the floor and sending his gun flying across the floor.
The guards stood in shock for a moment, glancing at their comrade who was trying to get back up on his feet, before the remaining man with a gun retargeted his weapon and fired.
The bullet shot forwards with a deafening crack, and Barry's world slowed down as it approached him. He waited until what he hoped was a believable amount of time before he twisted his body a tiny amount, but enough for the bullet to whiz by, only nicking him slightly by the ear. He winced.
In his sped up perception, the guards seemed to take ages to notice that the headshot had missed and Barry was indeed still alive. He didn't give them any opportunity to recover, however, as he ran forward with what he perceived as human speed, or perhaps just a tad higher, and ducked behind the guard. He grabbed the man's forearm and twisted it back, like he'd seen spies do in numerous movies, until the man cried out in pain. Then he pushed him forward into another guard that had recovered enough to take out his gun to try to shoot, but not before pilfering the intercom that he could see sticking out of his coat pocket.
The last guard took one look at the kid that had just dodged a bullet and injured his still conscious friends and, in a supreme act of betrayal, took off running.
Barry soon followed suit, in the opposite direction, before any of the guards could recover from their not-unconscious states of shock. He saw his opportunity when he passed a bright red box near the corner of the corridor.
In case of emergency, break glass and push the button.
Grinning wickedly, Barry gladly did as the sign instructed. The tell-tale sound of a fire alarm echoed through the halls, but Barry didn't take the time to admire his handy-work. At the sound of approaching footsteps, he leapt up against the wall, pushed off of it and brought down the metallic girder that covered the rest of the shaft. He landed roughly on his legs again, but he ignored their protests as he quickly climbed back up and, making barely any effort to quiet his movements now that his presence was known.
"So let me see if I understand what you're saying," Captain Singh began, as Joe and Caitlin's mother, Carla, stood before him. "You mean to tell me that you think something fishy is going on at S.T.A.R. Labs, the competitor company your daughter is interning at," he said, nodding at Carla.
"You don't believe me." Carla pointed out in irritation.
"It sounds a bit dubious to me, ma'am. Are you sure it's not-"
"Look, all I know is that I called to check up on my daughter, and his foster son picked up the phone, pretended that I had some sort of relation to him, and basically silently begged me to play along. I did so, dropped a hint and asked if it was serious enough to get Detective West involved, and he basically said outright that I should call him. I didn't; I came here instead to tell him, and then you, face to face and to make sure you investigated it," she snapped. "Now, I don't care what legal matters you have going on; my daughter could be in mortal peril. You call yourselves public servants, so serve the public and investigate it."
Captain Singh looked to Joe.
"Please, sir. You know Barry; he's a good kid. He knows not to raise these sorts of alarms if it's not serious."
The police captain sighed. "I'm sticking my neck out for you two- I can send a few men there to check, forgoing the search warrant entirely this time. If you're telling the truth, then the warrant won't be necessary anyway. But if this is a joke-"
"It's not, sir. I'm confident in it."
"Fine, then. I can't put you on the squad, however, Detective. Conflict of interest and all."
"I understand. Just please, have somebody go over there and investigate."
Singh nodded and then called out to one of the other officers on duty.
"Sir?" asked one Officer Darryl. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Send a squad to S.T.A.R. Labs to investigate a possible crime- something along the lines of a hostage situation, if I'm not mistaken."
Darryl raised an eyebrow. "Sir, a squad was already sent there a few minutes ago."
"What?" Carla and Joe asked in unison. Captain Singh's eyes widened.
"Explain," he said, and Darryl did so.
"Someone pulled the fire alarm, so we sent a group to investigate. They should arrive there in about fifteen minutes."
Snart's eyes narrowed as the annoying shrill of the fire alarm went off. Pulling out his intercom, he contacted his associates while keeping his eyes trained on the rest of the group he was watching over. He wasn't about to let another one give him the slip- he wasn't.
"Report, men. The kid pulled the alarm- I want to know exactly how incompetent you are to let him get away with that."
"Sir, we ran into the kid on the third floor corridor."
Snart's annoyance faded slightly. "Great job- lock him in the room and I'll be there as soon as I can manage."
"Uhh… actually, Snart… the kid may have gotten away."
Snart froze for a brief moment as he considered his colleague's words, his face betraying no emotion. His words were deathly cool when he next spoke. "You mean to tell me that you let a teenager take you on and live to tell about it."
"Yeah well… the kid knew some sort of martial arts, or whatever! It's not our fault- we thought we were just going to be rounding up a bunch of nerds and stealing some tech! The kid actually snuck up on and took down Maria! As in, he knocked her out! When she was armed! Who does that! I mean, what kind of kid has the balls to take on an armed criminal?"
"Apparently," Snart spoke dryly, "this one does."
"…I blame the spy movies."
Rolling his eyes, Snart barked out his next orders. "Irrelevant. We have, at this point, exactly fourteen minutes and forty one seconds until the police get here. Finish your jobs, quickly, and meet up at the ground floor. If I'm not there in twelve minutes, I want you to leave without me. If anyone gets caught or left behind, it's every man or woman for themselves, and you better not squeal. And if you see the damned kid, do us all a favour and shoot him."
"…if you see the damned kid, do us all a favour and shoot him."
Barry grinned from his position in the vents as the words filtered through. Not because of the fact armed men were after him, of course, though it did send a small thrill of adrenaline through his veins. No, he was happy because he finally had the excuse he needed to justify his alter ego's presence at the building- the fire alarm. And if that wasn't enough, he didn't need to waste his time tracking down the individual members of Snart's gang; they were all going to be concentrating in one area.
He waited a good three minutes in his position until he heard the urgent sounds of footsteps running below him. After the coast was clear, he leapt down from the vents and rushed down the service stairs, and out the building.
It didn't take long for him to change into his uniform, which was at this point a simple red hoodie with a small domino mask he'd ripped off an old Halloween costume, a pair of red gloves to prevent him from leaving fingerprints and a pair of tracksuit pants to go along with it. He vaguely mused about having to upgrade his attire, now that he was apparently becoming more well-known to the citizens of central city.
But that wasn't important at the moment. What was important was getting back into S.T.A.R. Labs. Which he did do. Easily.
The look of pure shock and astonishment the gang wore as he streaked in was comical.
"Hello there!" he beamed cheerfully with a small wave, just to mess with them.
"He's real?!" the one who'd shot him earlier squeaked. "I thought Snart was off his nut!"
"Oh my god, he's a kid. Heatwave got beat up by a kid. He's never gonna live this down."
"Who cares, just shoot him!"
And shoot they did. Once more, Barry's perception slowed down to accommodate the bullets speeding ever closer to his face until they seemed to barely move at all. Barry shook his head and walked- in his perception, at least- to the other side of the room. As he stopped, he turned to look at the thugs and clicked his tongue in disapproval.
"Okay, I was just here to check on a fire," he fibbed as he waited for the thugs to notice his new position. "But clearly something bigger is going on here. Hope you don't mind if I investigate a bit."
Barry started forwards and within moments they were on the ground, either unconscious with their own guns planted firmly on them for the cops to find, or tied up with some rope he'd picked up on his way back to S.T.A.R. Labs.
"Barry!"
Cisco flinched as he heard the gunfire erupt from beneath the floor. His mind instantly feared the worst of his very brave, very stupid friend. Already, he could picture Barry having an outcome similar to the fates of those killed off in horror movies.
The thought of his friend ending up that way made him feel ill. Every moment he spent dwelling on the thought seemed to make it more horrific.
Snart seemed to smirk slightly as he heard the gunfire, obviously arriving to the same conclusion as he did. Taking out his horribly primitive walkie-talkie, in Cisco's opinion at least, he called out to his army.
"What's the status on the kid?" he called out. Static was his answer. "Men?" he asked again, slightly more uncertain and getting agitated. "Men! Respond!" he barked.
No answer came, and the silence was practically music to Cisco's ears. It meant that Barry had, at the very least, a miniscule chance of having survived the encounter. It wasn't a very big chance, but it was more reassuring than the absolute certainty of his demise that would have reached his ears had he actually been taken out.
Snart growled in frustration as he threw the intercom to the ground. In one swift movement, the exit was quickly encased in ice, and a chill descended upon the room. Cisco shivered as he gasped in the icy air that felt like pins and needles against his lungs.
Whether or not that was due to frustration or in part of a larger plan, Cisco was unsure of, but he didn't have much time to ponder over it. Snart soon turned his attention onto them.
"I hope you realise that the only reason I haven't killed any of you so far is that I don't like punishing those who haven't done anything to annoy me themselves. That said, try anything like your little friend did here, I guarantee you your fate will be must frostier."
Dr. Wells sighed. "Mr. Snart, how much longer are you planning on keeping us here? Are you going to hold us hostage? Or are you planning on cutting your losses and leaving before the police arrive?"
"Keep working," Snart barked. Once he'd seen Dr. Wells put his mind back on his work, he deemed it fit to answer his question. "I'm not leaving until it's either absolutely necessary, or I get my due. There's not much chance of the former happening; I rather like my odds against the pitiful police force this city has, so I suggest you hurry up."
Hartley rolled his eyes. 'Keep working', he mouthed in disbelief and mockery.
"Problem?" asked Snart, noticing Hartley's actions.
"Yeah. A shootout's going on and we don't know what the hell is happening, excuse my French," he commented dryly.
"You say that as… though…" Snart trailed of as a distinct metallic groaning sound echoed through the room. Everyone's attention was drawn to the frozen doors where the sound seemed to be emitting from.
Cisco looked to Caitlin in panic. Someone was trying to enter the room. Snart pulled his gun out and aimed it at where the door was rattling, grasping it tightly.
The door continued for another moment, and then it stopped.
Footsteps; careful, deliberate ones could be heard slowly backing away from the door, gaining distance. And then a sudden popping sound that signified the sudden displacement of air and-
BANG! CRASH! FA-THUD!
The door shattered like glass, shards of metal being blown away, some even as far as the other side of the room. A girlish screech erupted from… Cisco… and by pure reflex Snart fired his icy blast at the red lump that'd fallen to the floor, groaning, after ramming into the door too fast.
Movement; something moved fast, too fast for Cisco's eyes to track, and with a sudden wind the red thing was gone. The ice hit the wall harmlessly, parts of it crumbling down onto the floor beneath it.
"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were aiming at me."
The voice, it sounded familiar as it bantered. He'd heard it before- if he listened closely he could almost place it, but something about it seemed… off. Foreign.
"Holy crap!" Hartley yelled. Caitlin stared, wide-eyed. Cisco felt his jaw drop. Dr. Wells looked… it was hard to tell, actually. He certainly appeared surprised, but there were the little things, the slight grin, and the light in his eyes which looked almost expectant, positively proud and delighted.
Snart's reaction was perhaps the strangest. He looked simultaneously smug, vindicated and annoyed at the same time, with a touch of eagerness as his finger twitched on his gun's trigger, just waiting to be aimed. It soon turned to one of absolute shock, however, when he realised-
"You're a child?"
The hooded figured pouted, of all things. "Dude! I'm well into my teens!"
"A child. A kid took down my old partner?" he asked in incredulousness, ignoring Hartley's bewildered sputtering.
The masked speedster rolled his eyes. "Stop calling me that. I'm young; doesn't mean I can't kick your ass."
The statement seemed to bring Snart out of his shock.
And then chaos erupted.
Barry twisted, turning his torso quickly to avoid another blast of ice. It missed, just barely, and that was worrying. He could dodge it with his eyes closed last he tried- was he getting slower? If his power was slowly fading… that would be bad. He needed to wrap this fight up so he could figure out what was going on with him.
Whirr!
Too close!
"Getting a bit tired, are we, Speedy?"
"Speedy? That's a horrible nickname, seriously. It makes me sound like a cartoon rodent," Barry shot back, dancing around another blast. He feinted right, then switched directions mere moments after Snart had taken aim and dashed straight towards him instead. He punched tried to punch him in the head, to knock him out and end it quickly before someone got hurt, but he underestimated Snart. He dodged out of nowhere, and Barry was carried forward by the momentum. Unable to stop himself fast enough, he took a shot to the back for it.
He tried to bite back a screech of pain, to make it seem like he wasn't affected, but to no avail. He tried to move forwards to try again but-
Yeah, no. He was definitely getting slower.
He stuck to dodging, then. With grace he didn't know he had, he tried to wait out his opponent until he made a mistake. He had to make one at some point.
And then Snart shot the floor beneath his feet. His friction gone, he slipped, momentum carrying forward until he crashed into the wall. Painfully. He could physically feel Caitlin's pity.
"Bit out of your element, it seems. You're still new at this, kid. How on Earth did Mick lose to you?"
Of course he was out of his element; he was a science nerd and he'd somehow gotten it into his head that he had a chance at being some sort of costumed vigilante. Not that it'd matter, though. If he didn't pick himself up and end this quickly, he'd soon end up burning up the rest of his energy and…
Energy.
He felt like hitting himself, then.
Cold isn't actually a tangible concept. Just like darkness is the absence of light, cold is the absence of heat, or more specifically, energy. Each blast he'd taken, each moment he spent in the same room made him slower, zapping away at his energy reserves until he was barely able to run at a quarter of his normal speeds.
He was in AP Physics! For god's sake, he should know this!
Yeah, no. He wasn't going to win this by brute force alone; he'd have to outsmart his enemy. Biting his lip, he picked himself up from the ground.
"Mmm… you should know when you're beaten, Kid," Snart said, taking aim with his gun once more. "You're only making this more painful for yourself. Tell you what, co-operate, and I'll end you quickly, and these four can go free- I won't require Dr. Wells' service anymore, I'm afraid."
"Aha, no. C'mon, I'd lose all trace of my dignity if I lost to a guy who looks like he's been pulled out of Snowmageddon. Actually, now that I think about it, a bit of white face paint and you could pass as Sans for Halloween."
Briefly, he heard Cisco snort despite his situation, and he smirked slightly.
The Eskimo-wannabe didn't seem fazed, however. "Suit yourself," he said, and shot another barrage from his gun.
Barry darted to and fro, moving individual parts of his body rapidly as he tried to heat himself up while he dodged the blasts. It seemed to be working slightly, but nowhere near enough to make a big effort. There had to be a more efficient way.
One which I'll have to figure out later, he berated himself as he was grazed by the ice. Driving all his attention onto the matter at hand, he ran around Snart again in a wide circle, multiple times, in his attempt to make him lose focus. His shots kept missing as he couldn't adjust his aim quickly enough to keep up with Barry, which was just what Barry wanted. In one quick swoop, he closed in on Snart.
He didn't try to punch him out again, not this time. Snart had braced himself to dodge at the last minute, supporting himself with his left leg while simultaneously shooting a blast with his right hand. Instead, Barry stopped a few feet short of Snart and ducked to the ground, letting the low-friction ground carry him forward, and with one quick leg sweep, he threw off Snart's balance. Snart crashed to the ground, head first, and groaned as the ice shattered beneath him.
Barry grinned. "You were saying, Frosty?"
In retrospect, he should've taken whatever advantage he could have instead of bantering, because Snart wasn't out for the count yet. Barry turned his attention away for a moment, just one moment, to look for something to restrain him, but that was all it took for Snart, from his position on the floor, to shoot his knees out.
He gasped in pain, even as Snart slowly picked himself up from the floor, disoriented.
"As I was saying; goodnight kid."
And then the world exploded in white.
He flew through the air a few feet and crashed back on the floor. Surprisingly, he wasn't the only one, as he heard the dull thump and distinct sound of ice shattering not too far from him. Regaining his bearings quite quickly, he saw Dr. Wells, still handcuffed to the chair but ducked behind it, using it to protect himself from an icy explosion. A little further beyond him appeared to be an exploded metallic gas container. The other teenagers in the room looked slightly rattled by the bursting canister, but were out of the explosion's range.
Oh, so that's what that was.
Realising that he was, indeed, putting innocent people- his friends, mostly- in danger, Barry quickly used his moment of repose to speed the rest of the room's occupants out of the lab.
He took too long, though. By the time he'd managed to drag them out of the room- God, Cisco, what have you been eating? You're heavier than Dr. Wells!- Snart was long gone, the only sign of his existence was the scattered ice around the room.
And, you know, the broken window with the ice ramp sliding to the bottom. Damn criminals…
Slightly hesitantly, he turned to face his friends, his employer, and the guy he thought was a complete asshole.
"Hey," Cisco nodded, then grinned something fierce. "That. Was. AWESOME! Dude, you have to show me how you did that!"
"Cisco…" Caitlin groaned. "Give the guy a break, please."
"I say it as I see it, Cait."
"I noticed," Hartley drawled. "Dr. Wells, I'm afraid that for all you say his brain is good for, it doesn't have a very good filter, does it?"
"Mr. Rathaway…"
Caitlin snorted, and Cisco rolled his eyes. "Do you see what I have to deal with?"
"Hmm, yeah, my friends are much the same," he agreed with his still-disguised voice, his eyes dancing in amusement. "Anyway, I… I should probably untie you guys about now."
"Oh great," Hartley groaned. "He is clueless. And he has the power to break the known rules of physics. We're officially doomed. I'll start building the bunker."
"I could just leave you tied up, you know."
"No, you wouldn't. You're not that kind of person."
Barry raised his eyebrow, a fruitless gesture with his hood up and domino mask in place. "I literally just met you today. How could you possibly say you know me?"
"Alright then, prove me wrong," Hartley challenged.
"Okay, I will."
"Do it, then."
"…Shut up."
"And then Dr. Wells blew up the canister for liquid helium and knocked both of them back and…" Cisco paused for a moment where the officer's notepad tilted just enough for him to see what was written on it.
Possible hallucinations from the shock; witness might need psychological therapy. Possibly drugged?
The officer didn't even seem to notice he's stopped talking.
Cisco scowled. "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?"
The officer hummed noncommittally. "Yeah, yeah. Snart kidnaps you to force your mentor to build weapons for some fictitious enemy-"
"I think we're done here," Caitlin said coldly. "Clearly, you don't seem to be taking us seriously, despite the fact that our stories are nigh-identical."
The officer looked up at Caitlin, and sighed. "Look, kids, I've got to be blunt here. The ice gun? Yeah, sure, Snart's new weapon is practically the talk of Central City's underbelly, and has been for about a month. Everything else though… I mean, superspeed? It sounds like something out of a comic book."
Hartley glared. "We weren't drugged. Your logic doesn't even make sense! Why would Snart drug us into imagining that a person with the capability of such velocity was real, in a way that makes him look weaker than the image he'd try to project? And then leave without the very reason he attacked us in the first place?"
The man shrugged. "Kid, that's not my job. I'm not into psychology- we've got people on the force for just that. I'll bring it up with them, but come on, you're what, 16? And you're interning at one of the most important scientific cites in the continent. Be reasonable here; is it more likely that you've been under the influence of a mind-altering substance, or that there really is a person- a teenager, according to you- who somehow can run faster than you can see him?"
Hartley rolled his eyes. "Don't try to use that logic against me- I've been trying to convince myself of that for the past half hour and it's not sticking. Try something new."
The officer gave him a deadpan look. "Kid, while I'd love to stand here debating with you all day, my time is valuable, and I've got a job to do. If it means that much to you, we'll get forensics over here to check it out, and if you can offer a blood sample we might be able to prove one of us wrong- although I hear some drugs dissipate quickly, so it's not the most reliable method if it's one of those. But right now, I'm more interested in hearing about your other friend- Allen, was it? Detective West's foster kid who alerted Ms. Snow's mother?"
Cisco's eyes suddenly widened as he realised that, in all the confusion, he'd forgotten about his missing friend. "Holy crap! Barry!"
"Is he okay? Have you found him?" Caitlin asked, urgency dripping into her voice, as the matter was brought to her attention.
"No- he seems to have disappeared."
"Disappeared?!" demanded Caitlin. "Oh, crap. He could've been taken hostage by one of the guards if a few had gotten away, or he could be bleeding out somewhere-"
Hartley rolled his eyes. "Geez, calm down, Snow. If he's nowhere to be seen, he's probably still running around the vents somewhere; they would've found signs of a struggle by now- obvious signs."
"Indeed," the officer confirmed. "We'll send a search team to try and find him; with all the excitement and adrenaline, he might have not noticed the sirens."
"No need," another officer called, "We've just about got everything here wrapped up, save for some of the forensics."
"Daryl?" the first officer inquired.
"We found the kid stumbling around in one of the basement levels- he practically barricaded himself in. He's with one of the other officers, telling his side of the story."
"Is he okay?" Cisco asked, nervous.
Officer Daryl paused for a moment, unsure of how he should answer. "Well… he seems pretty beaten up, physically I mean, and he's probably traumatised- the kid was practically shivering when we got to him. He got grazed in the ear with a bullet- that's probably the cause of the gunfire you heard after the alarm was tripped. He's also got some rope burns, but he should be fine in a few days, if I may speak from prior experience. From what I've seen, you're lucky to have him as a friend; very brave, what he did. Kid's a real hero."
A/N: Another late chapter! Wow, I really need to get my schedule in order… So! The holidays are over! And I have successfully completed… 0 spare chapters.
I know, I'm very sorry, but I only had two weeks, and in those two weeks, I had Easter Sunday, my grandfather visiting for the first time in over a year, Good Friday, my sister's birthday, my own birthday (I'm now 15, for those wondering), my first time going out with my friends in over 6 months, a shit ton of homework, studying for a metric fuck ton of tests, a few family crises, and days when I was just so tired I barely wanted to read fanfiction, let alone write.
I should point out that I have no idea how a police station works. At all. I've never actually been to one, and Hollywood is not a reliable source of information. That scene is not #truefax.
Now! Onto the reason most of you even read the author's note; QOTC!
First off, last chapter's winner! Congratulations to Gui kun for being the first to answer correctly!
Now, for today's question for some true comic fans; Who is... Max Mercury?
Hope you've all enjoyed this chapter- I've made it slightly longer to compensate for the fluctuating schedule.
Until Next Time,
~SilentEevee
