The anger kept rising up inside her and she couldn't stop it, couldn't even begin to understand it. She stared down at the picture of her mother, sitting in her lap. The woman was on a beach, her sunglasses on top of her head, a smile on her face, her dark hair tucked behind one of her ears, pulled over one shoulder. She looked so happy. And now she was dead – or she was supposed to be. If she was still alive, like Snart seemed to believe, then she had spent the last five years pretending to be dead when she was perfectly alive. Hellen stood up, half throwing the picture to the ground, the satisfying sound of glass smashing filling the room. She was wrong. She did know why sheet was angry. If her mum was still alive, then she had no right to have pretended for years to be dead, and why the hell would she have anything to do with Mick Rory and Leonard Snart? Only one answer came to mind. Lillian was a criminal, and had been for at east five years. But Hellen could remember burying her mum... how could that have been faked? There were so many questions, every time Hellen answered one, another came up. She shifted her shoulders uncomfortably, frowning. Pain shot through her body, her skin itched painfully, hands felt like they were twisting wrongly, her thumb shifting around to the underside of her wrist, her fingers spreading out slightly, fingernails being pushed out and something else taking their place. Hellen cried out in pain, tears slipping out onto her face for a split second before vanishing. There was a banging on the door a few seconds later.

"Hellen? What's going on? You alright?" Her dad's voice asked, the handle rattling – but the door was locked. Hellen watched in horror as her skin erupted with scales, black, edged in gold, sharp, painful. Her hands resembled those that belonged more on a lizard than a human. Her hair fell over her shoulders and what she could see wasn't dark anymore – it was fire orange. The final part of the transformation was her back exploding open, making her almost scream from pain (as it was it sounded like someone was being murdered). As soon as it was done, Hellen stumbled backwards, having difficulty keeping her balance. She twisted and turned, trying to look at her back, knocking over her lamp in the attempt. The knocking on her door intensified, her dad sounding more and more worried. Hellen froze, taking deep breath, and took off her shirt, standing in her bra looking at herself in the mirror. She was covered in scales from her head to her toes, her hair having the consistency and colour of flame, but falling in waterfalls around her shoulders. On her back was a pair of black, leathery wings, like what she imagined would be on dragons. That was pretty much what she was. A humanoid dragon. She felt sick. She knew what she was, and she knew how people felt about people like her. Fear. Terror. The only metahuman who anyone liked was the Flash, and now Hellen was one. A metahuman. How? She'd been out of the city when the particle accelerator exploded, she showed no signs of being one of them. A thought slipped into her mind.

The crystal.

The doctors hadn't found anything.

They'd been mystified by what caused the scars.

Now Hellen knew where the crystal had gone. It was indeed still inside her. Just now it ran through her veins, it changed her, became part of her. Something had triggered the change though. Everything she got angry she had seen red. Was anger the trigger? Or was it simply a trigger?

"Hellen!" Her dad kept banging on the door. Hellen frowned. Would her voice still be the same? Why would it change?

"I... I'm OK." She called out, not sounding very convincing.

"Open the door." Her dad replied.

"No." She couldn't let him see. Not with her in this state.

"Hellen, open this door, right now, or I will open it for you." He would too, Hellen knew that. James would probably go and get a baseball bat or something like that and beat the door in if he could. But she didn't know how to change back. She made her way over to her chest of draws and opened the middle one, pulling out a shirt with low back – more comfortable for wearing with wings – and slipped it on before making her way over to her window. Throwing it open, she looked down at the ground. Considering that their apartment was not on the ground floor, this was not a fun idea she was toying with in her mind. Slowly she took a deep breath, then climbed out onto the windowsill, turning around and looking up. Which would be better, ground or the roof? She didn't want anyone to see her, and it was only just starting to even think about getting gloomy, so she chose to go up. Either way she was probably going to be seen by a few people, she wasn't exactly a very inconspicuous metahuman, being completely covered in black and gold scales and having demonic – like wings sprouting from her back. As she climbed she idly wondered if they would work, and how she could actually use them. Being taught how to fly with wings wasn't exactly standard in schools anywhere. Humans didn't normally have wings. Would Hellen simply know how to use them – like instinct? Her hand slipped and she ended up dangling by one arm, crying out in shock.

"Not good, this is very not good!" She muttered, feeling her other hand slipping as well. She struggled to grab on again with her other hand, but PE was never one of her best subjects. She was a geek and a nerd, not a sports woman. Somehow she managed it and continued climbing, making her way (increasing in speed as she went) to the roof. From there she looked over the city, hair being pulled at by the wind. She looked around at her wings, shifting her shoulders slightly. After a moment her wings opened, spreading out either side of her, and she experimentally flapped them a couple of times. She wasn't sure how she felt about having wings, but on at least one level it was cool.

"I was wondering how long until you'd find out." Someone said from behind her. Hellen turned around and spotted someone standing not too far behind her.

"Who... who are you?" She asked, clenching her fist. The person shrugged.

"That's a little complicated. But you... you know that we'll enough, don't you?" They stepped forward and Hellen frowned, easily identifying the stranger as a woman. Long, dark hair, pulled away from the face, so the eyes should have been visible. But they weren't. They were hidden, somehow. Like they were almost too visible, and yet they weren't visible at all.

"What d'you mean? I don't... I don't understand."

"It's all very simple really. But unfortunately I can't explain it to you because of a bunch of rules which prevent me from ruining the – oops. Almost said too much. You see, this is why I hate this time period. Too dangerous for me to be in. Well... yeah. Like I said, wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff." Hellen frowned, clenching her hands into fists.

"Are you insane?"

"That matter is open to debate. Several of my friends have come to that conclusion, but the jury's still out. Now, you tell me... who are you?"

"The way you're talking to me, you already know. How?"

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that you don't know who you are. You're lost, confused, have been experiencing strange bursts of anger for no apparent reason. You see the red, you lose control. But this is the first time you have changed. You don't understand what is happening to you, think that the woman Snart has a picture of was your mum, don't know who you can trust, wonder if you can even trust yourself. Oh, and now you're worried that you won't be able to become a normal human again. Through all this, you have lost the knowledge of who you are. Which is why you have to tell me... who are you?" Hellen stood side on to the stranger, worried, slightly afraid, confused about what was going on. How had she known all that? The stranger smiled, one that hid the way she was really feeling. Hellen slowly stepped forward, not sure what she was doing.

"Why the hell would you say all that about me? Why would I be feeling that way?"

"Oh, trust me. I just know these things."

"I think that's a pretty good reason to not trust you."

"Ha! You already sound like him. Look, trust me on this. You need to trust someone. Anyone. Or you'll get even more hurt." The woman turned around and Hellen raced forwards, faster than she thought she could, grabbing the woman and spinning her around so Hellen could see her face. The first thing she noticed was the eyes, and that was enough to make her let the woman go. Pale green. Like hers.

"Mum?" She asked. The woman wasn't sure whether to scowl or laugh, so she did something in between.

"See you round, kid." She said before slipping away and somehow seeming to vanish from right in front of Hellen, leaving her standing stupefied, staring at where she had been before.

Joe walked into S.T.A.R Labs, all business. Barry looked at him, slightly worried. The older man wasn't usually quite that business-like unless something was wrong.

"We got another metahuman. You're gonna hate where."

"Why?"

"It's on top of the apartments that the Finch's stay in." Barry's shoulders visibly slumped.

"You're joking?"

"Which I was. Might need the Flash on this one. Haven't seen this metahuman before, no clue who they are."

"What do they look like?" Cisco asked, trying to get a visual on his screen through hacking into cameras around the apartments. Joe shrugged.

"They're on the roof. No one's gotten a proper look. But some reports say they saw the meta talking to someone else."

"Why'd this come up on our radar?" Barry asked, "Has the meta done something bad or... what?"

"The location, the timing... There's a chance that this meta is working with Wind Lance and the mystery meta – or is the mystery meta." Joe shrugged. Cisco zoomed in, focusing the camera on the meta.

"They look kinda cool... in a weird way." He said, motioning for Barry to get a look. From head to foot, the meta was covered in scales, hair almost like flame, wings sprouting from its back. And 'it' was actually a she, golden eyes alert and looking around.

"Can we get facial rec on identifying her?" Barry asked. Cisco turned in his chair, giving Barry the look.

"Dude, I know how to do my job. It's already running. If we get a hit, I'll let you know. Now get going. If this meta is after the Finch's then you'd better stop them."

"Yeah. Thanks, Cisco." Barry sped over to his suit and got changed within seconds, sprinting over to the building. He arrived maybe ten seconds later – tops. The meta turned and looked at him, but didn't seem like she wanted to attack. Instead she just looked... lost. In the background, sirens were blaring, echoing around the two.

"What do you want?" The meta asked, her voice rough, yet almost soft, warm... the first thing coming to Barry's mind was flame, the way it crackled, but at the same time it just seemed so much kinder than that, almost familiar in some ways. Full of pain. Like something had just happened.

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"I want to be left alone. That too much to ask? First her, then you. This isn't really my day, is it?"

"Apparently not. Maybe you should have chosen a different roof to stand on. You triggered a few alerts."

"And why's that?" The meta growled, crossing her arms.

"The newbie has a few things to learn, doesn't she?" Another voice asked, stepping forward out of seemingly thin air. Both Barry and the scaled meta looked around, then shared a look. Wind Lance.

"Give her a break, Pierce. We want to talk to her, not terrify her." Another stranger appeared, growing from a pile of goo... suddenly why the substance Barry had found at the scene of Tobias Jones' murder. Shape changer. He hated them. The scaled meta frowned, fire surrounding her fists.

"Such power... truly impressive." The goo-man smiled, making the scowl grow deeper on the scaled meta's face. She glanced down at her hand and looked like she was about other jump back, shaking her hand as though to put the fire out. It didn't work.

"She can't control it. She's useless." Wind Lance muttered.

"I seem to remember you not being able to control your powers either," The goo-man spat at his comrade, "It's not an easy task, and fire is probably a harder element to control. No offence meant, of course."

"Who are you?" Barry asked the second new meta he had encountered. The goo-man looked at him, surprised at being addressed by the Flash.

"What does it matter?"

"Boogey-man. First thing that comes to mind." The scaled-meta muttered.

"I like that! Wait... no! It's my job to name them." Cisco said into the comms, sounding rather indignantly. Barry shook his head.

"What do you want?"

"To talk to your friend here."

"Hey, no. He isn't my friend. I don't even know him." The girl looked rather annoyed, holding her hands up higher, as though readying to throw her fire.

"Ha! She has a rather... hot... temper, wouldn't you say, sir?" Wind Lance joked.

"That's dreadful. Suits your name perfectly, though. Pierce through, wind lance. Seriously? Referencing Milla Maxwell, much?"

"Barry, ask her if that's from a game!" Cisco piped up.

"Maybe now isn't the best time to ask her that," Barry muttered, earning a strange look from the scaled meta, "Don't worry about it." He replied to her questioning look.

"OK..." She turned and looked back at Wind Lance and the newly named Boogey-Man, "Why do you want to talk to me?"

"To recruit you. Having someone with your talents could prove mutually beneficial."

"You burnt Finch Labs to the ground, killing several people. Chances are that you were killing people even before that," Barry looked at her in surprise, "I don't kill. Never have, and never will unless it is completely necessary. Sorry, but I have to politely decline your offer." Her wings spread out and Barry could see what she was about to do. He wasn't too sure either was a good idea.

"Wait –" But, ironically, he wasn't fast enough. The girl launched herself into the air, straight towards Wind Lance, releasing a stream of fire at him. He growled in pain, holding up his hands to protect his face as Boogey-Man returned into a thick, gooey pulp, forming a shield around his comrade. Barry started running around them both, preventing the fire from touching them. Soon as he noticed the flames stop coming, he stopped running.

"Why would you do that?!" The scaled meta demanded.

"You said you wouldn't kill people unless you had to." He replied.

"Never said I wouldn't seriously maim them," Came the growled reply, "I'll see you around Flash. Just so you know, they're getting away." When Barry turned around, the meta flew off, and indeed, Wind Lance and Boogey-Man were gone. Barry sighed.

"This just isn't my day." He mumbled.