Thanks for your patience! I officially have no internet at my place until at least Monday, which is great (awful), but I'm trying to hop to the library/coffee shops intermittently to get work done, so updates will hopefully still be happening!
It's been brought to my attention that I kill off Cisco a lot. Sorry about that...it won't happen again.
(I've also been known to lie.)
Enjoy the chapter!
Without thinking, Caitlin flung open the van door and bolted, ignoring Cisco's yell of warning behind her. She sprinted, past Ronnie, past the soldiers that were converging upon him. She heard another van door slam, and she didn't have to look back to know that Cisco was hot on her heels, also making the mad dash down the alley.
A shot rang off, and Caitlin's heel caught on the pavement. She connected with the asphalt, a burning streak across her arm and chin. The ground was pebble-gray, so dizzyingly gray it made her eyes hurt—and for the moment that she struggled to recover, it was the only detail she could focus on.
Where was Cisco?
She pulled herself to her feet and looked wildly around. Cisco was a few feet away, also lying on the ground, but he hadn't stirred. She wondered where the shot had come from, where it had gone, if the answer was anything she could handle—
When she turned back to Eiling, one of her questions was answered, whether she liked it or not.
Still, she ran, down the smoking barrel of his gun, knowing even as his fingers tightened around the trigger that she was not fast enough.
She would never be fast enough.
I'm so sorry, Barry.
The heavy door effectively blocked out any of the piercing ringing outside, and sound flooded back through Caitlin's earpieces. The ringing she now heard, she realized, was from her own paralyzing fear.
"It was a good performance," Eiling said. His breath was warm on the back of her neck. "Really impressive. But don't think you're the only ones with fancy earplugs."
"If you hurt her, I swear to God—" Ronnie began.
Eiling's bark of laughter made Caitlin jump. "Don't pretend like you have leverage here. You've been playing a game that you never learned the rules to."
"Please." The voice, hoarse and barely more than a whisper, came from behind Stein, Ronnie, and Cisco. They parted to reveal Barry, who had lifted his ashen, bruised face to look at Eiling. "Please let her go. I'll do anything, I swear."
This time, Eiling's hollow laugh was deeper, full of derision. "I have everything I need from you. It's been fun, Flash, but I'm afraid now I have no use—no patience—for any of you."
Caitlin wasn't sure what drew her to Ronnie, why she looked at him then, but in an instant she had all of the information she needed. She knew, instinctively, what Ronnie was about to do.
The sadness, the apprehension, reached her loud and clear: If I do this, I may not be coming back.
In response, she tried to convey as best she could, I know.
Then, Ronnie reached forward and grabbed Stein's arm.
Caitlin had never, like Cisco, long entertained theories of time. Time is not linear, Cisco had always told her. It's made up of layers. Sometimes you can see through them, or across them…moments don't happen in any kind of order, but as plots on multiple planes of existence…
Now, as time appeared to blur together, she believed it—her moments converged, aligned, and exploded at once.
A swirl of orange and yellow light, almost like flame but not yet that substantial, surrounded Ronnie and Stein; even as they made contact, they were less like individuals. It was blindingly colorful for the space they were in, and Caitlin's head spun with an unexplainable thrill of disquietude and danger. Eiling must have felt it too: his focus shifted, his grip relaxed, and his gun arm turned outward to aim at the rapidly-converging figures.
There was no time for thinking. The answer seemed obvious.
With one hand, she knocked sideways the arm holding the gun, and it fired with a bang. The other hand she balled up into a fist and, using her momentum, she swung her elbow around to make contact with Eiling's face. His head snapped to the side and he dropped.
There was a rush of wind behind Caitlin, a moment's pause.
And it was over.
"Well, that was badass," Cisco said.
She peeled her eyes away from the unconscious Eiling and turned to find a now-active Firestorm standing in place of Ronnie and Stein, with Cisco standing awestruck beside him.
"I think he hit his head," she said, motioning at the General on the floor. Her voice sounded distant. She knew once the adrenaline wore off, she would probably lose control of her stomach.
"He'll be fine," Cisco said. "More than he deserves, probably."
Behind Cisco, Barry's head sagged, and the action of the past minute dissolved from Caitlin's mind. She rushed forward without another word and put a hand on his forehead. It was freezing.
"Hey," she said. "Hey, Barry, look at me." She looked over at Cisco. "Get him out of this."
Cisco sprang into action as well, dropping his weapon and iPad on a nearby table and moving behind the backboard.
Caitlin's fingers were numb as she traced Barry's face, ghosting over the deep purple bruise under his left eye and the dried blood down his chin and neck. His eyes, rusted around the edges with exhaustion, lifted and searched her expression.
"You've got a bruise on your chin," he slurred.
If he didn't have three-inch spikes in his skin, she might have slapped his arm. "Damn you, Barry Allen."
He tried a laugh, but it dissolved as soon as it began, his head dropping.
He was broken, she knew—and she was breaking.
"Do you have him?"
Wells' voice had not broadcasted in so long, it came as a surprise to Caitlin. After the extended period of ringing in the hallways beyond, it crackled with static.
He was in the middle of repeating himself when Caitlin cut him off. "We've got him. We're coming home."
Cisco finally managed to find the release. The cuffs around Barry's arms, wrists, and ankles popped open, and he slumped. Caitlin caught him before he fell, gingerly, under the arms where there were fewer spikes. Cisco rushed back around to help, taking the brunt of Barry's weight. There was no way the speedster could fully move on his own—a fact Caitlin had anticipated but never fully acknowledged. He whimpered at the slight movement, and she exchanged a panicked glance with Cisco.
Trying to maintain some semblance of confidence. Cisco placed a hand bracingly on Barry's back. "Hey, man. You're gonna be okay."
"That's…not necessarily true," Caitlin said. She had just glanced at her watch and now a more immediate panic fluttered up inside of her. "Our twenty minutes is up."
"You're still in there," said Wells. "Get out as fast as you can."
"It won't be fast enough," Caitlin said. "If we keep up the frequency, these soldiers will have permanent damage."
"So?" Cisco said fiercely. "Caitlin, they're bad people. Do you see what they've done?"
"Of course I do," she snapped. The cold sent shivers down her arms and made her fierce. Not even Firestorm's warmth seemed able to touch her. "But that doesn't mean we have to become them. We have to be better. I thought that was who we were."
There was a pause. It was hard to tell if Cisco was a guilty. In this situation, Caitlin reasoned, it was hard to be anything but afraid.
"If I turn this off," Wells said slowly, "you'll have to get out of there on your own. It won't take long for those soldiers to recover."
"We have Firestorm," Caitlin said. "And the sonic gun." She nodded at the table and Cisco reached over to grab the weapon.
Another gap. Caitlin could only imagine what Wells was thinking, the plans and statistics and probabilities and scenarios that were likely spinning through his mind like tops. She didn't want to know any of them. Barry's fingers grasped at her shoulder and his breath stuttered.
"Please," he rasped.
Caitlin hoped, desperately, that she was making the right decision.
"Do it," she said decisively. Firestorm led the way to the door, and the other three shuffled forward.
"If you're sure—" Wells said. "Turning off the frequency now."
"Let's blow this popsicle stand," Cisco said, shrugging up the gun in his right hand.
The door swung open into the hallway, and it was silent: a different silence than before. This one seemed like the edge of yellow grass. A sun-scorched expanse of sky. A lioness' teeth, just visible beneath the snarled lip as she crouches. An anticipation, building, bursting.
Thanks again for reading! As usual, reviews are appreciated-it seriously makes my day. Expect another update by Tuesday, at the latest. Just a few more chapters left!
Till next time,
Penn
