Chapter Twenty-Three: Strange Vibes

Somewhere in Central City

Jay watched as the long strip of bandage in Malcolm's hands went up in blue flames. He pulled his eyebrows together as he watched Malcolm wrap the flaming bandages around his shoulder and tricep. Even now, he half-expected the smell of burning flesh to fill the room, but it never came. It only showed just how much control Malcolm had over the flames he could conjure.

He was a formidable fighter, he witnessed that first-hand numerous times in conquering each Earth they came across. So why was it so hard to handle when he had Shadow Thief and Dr. Light on his side? How could The Flash and Visionary manage to gain the upper hand over them? Now, thanks to him not being able to finish the job, to finish Dr. Light's job, the Flash got away again. And now they had Dr. Light.

"You've gone soft," Jay commented. Malcolm snorted, continuing to wrap his arm. "You think you handled last night's situation well?" He spread his arms out, looking around the room. It had only been a few months they had been living in this building. He didn't expect them to be there that much longer. Still, being there with Malcolm was starting to grate on his nerves. "Do you see the Flash here?"

"For someone who's dead set upon stealing the Flash's speed," Malcolm said, securing the bandage with a piece of athletic tape, "you've been great at delegating others to do your job."

Jay's upper lip slowly curled. "I haven't seen Mr. and Mrs. Thawne in the obituaries yet," he pointed out and Malcolm shifted his gaze towards the ceiling, jutting out his chin. It was a childish retort, but facts were the facts. Neither of them had gotten pretty far with either of their end goals. But it was ok; Jay had to remind himself, watching the downfall of an Earth, no matter the speed of it was always enjoyable in the long run. "That's the only reason I let you tag along you know."

"Tag along?" Malcolm repeated. He stopped what he was doing to give Jay a pointed stare. "I'm putting in more work here than you have, and I've done it since we got here." He lifted a hand and started counting off on his fingers. "I'm the one whose been scouting out the whereabouts of Barry and his friends for you to keep an eye on. I'm the one who's been facing off against the Flash to give you an idea of his fighting style. I'm the one who's stolen some of his speed. I'm the one who's been taking all these metas to Eiling to make it possible for us to track them." He waved his hand in the air. "But go ahead. Let this Harrison Wells finish things off. It's fine. Because, all it's doing and is showing that you can't do things for yourself."

Jay jumped to his feet, bristling. He could hear the air crackling around his body. "I've had no issues conquering each world we've come across," he declared. Malcolm pressed his lips together, shifting his eyes to the side. "Keeping you around is me doing you a favor. I will be the fastest man on any Earth whether you are here or not!"

"Ok," Malcolm said with a sudden serene smile. Jay blinked rapidly in response at the sudden shift in his demeanor. "We'll see how well you can manage that when you have no speed."

A growl rumbled in the back of Jay's throat. He lowered himself back down into his chair. Clasping his hands tightly together in his lap. His knees started bouncing. He conceded the argument. Malcolm, as annoyingly correct as he was, was a big part of this plan. Unfortunately. And fortunately. Malcolm was the one that give him a taste of what kind of speed this Barry Allen had, and it was delicious. He was the one Jay could pin everything on if, and only if, Barry and his merry band of bozos were smart enough to realize that they were being played.

If Jay wanted some way of figuring out how not to deplete what little resource of speed he had, he needed everything to be as normal for Barry and Co. as possible. That meant that he and Malcom couldn't be at odds.

Jay knew that Caitlin Snow was the sole person who could help with his speed problem. That Cisco Ramon was the only person who could create any devices that may aid in their research. That Averey Moore was someone on this Earth he needed to keep both himself and Malcolm on the good side of otherwise she'd notice any inconsistencies faster than he could form a thought. That if Barry Allen kept getting his speed siphoned before he could counter-act it by building it up, there was no point in being on this Earth. All of that meant having Malcolm around to keep an eye on the police side of things, to see just how far they could push everything he had planned.

Unfortunately, it also meant Jay had to listen to whatever diatribes Malcolm felt he had any right to throw in his face. He even hated admitting that he had a point. At the moment, Malcolm was the only one who had the ability to take The Flash's speed. That is, he was the only one until Harrison Wells had found some common sense and agreed to help speed his plan along, for a lack of a better word.

"You've been doing well," Jay finally said.

"I take all your compliments to heart," Malcolm said dryly. He put a hand to his shoulder, slowly rotating it. "I hope you know that."

"You're an idiot," Jay said, putting his face into his hands. Not as big of a bunch of idiots as Barry and his friends, he reminded himself, but the guy was still an idiot. But no one ever got things done by surrounding themselves with smart people. They were harder to corral.

Yes, he was surrounding himself with some of the smartest minds in this city, but he was still smarter than any of them combined. He was already a million steps ahead of them.

"I let you join me because you had wanted a personal part in the destruction of this world," Jay explained to Malcolm. "So far, you haven't pulled your weight." Malcolm let out a mirthless laugh.

"People haven't exactly been quivering at your name either, Zoom," Malcolm reminded him. "Just like you, I have a plan. There are certain parts in play.

"You've gotten soft, haven't you?" Jay asked. Malcolm didn't turn his head, but his eyes slid in Jay's direction, two searing balls of anger. A warning. "All that time you've spent with Iris. With your parents. It's getting to you, isn't it? It's catching up. It's changing you."

It was Malcolm's turn to leap to his feet. Jay reacted quickly, throwing a ball of blue lightning across the room to meet up with the blue flames that Malcolm had thrown towards him. The two attacks imploded upon contact, a rush of heat and wind filling up the room, and knocking Jay back a few steps.

"I told you, that you've been getting too close," Jay said, fixing his windswept hair. "I warned you that this could happen. It's why I'm not fussed to look for my own doppelganger?"

"Or are you just hesitant to see how much of a better life they're living here?" Malcolm asked. "A life you never got to live."

"I could ask you the same thing." Jay barely got the chance to finish his sentence when Malcolm started to snarl and talk over him.

"I never had a chance to survive on this Earth!" Malcolm shot back. "Why should anyone care? They still had Eddie Thawne; the hero police detective. The one this city welcomed back with open arms." He started pacing small circles around the room. "It's all so pathetic. He's had civil suits brought against him, killed is own partner, and no one cares. It's still good old Eddie. What about me? What about the Malcolm of this Earth?"

Jay slowly pulled in a breath of air through his nose before he pushed it back out. The smell of ash still hung in the air. If this rant was going to get Malcolm to start focusing again, then so be it, he'd sit through the whole boring thing. He lowered himself into his empty seat and settled back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No one cared about him. No one even remembers that he existed. Oh, it was easy for mummy and daddy for them to move on. Just give in to demands, close the Keystone factories, and everything will be hunky dory with their remaining son." A wild look entered Malcolm's eyes and he started tapping his fingers together feverishly. "And where's their real son now?"

Rolling his eyes, Jay wondered if it would be more beneficial if he was with the real Eddie Thawne in that moment. It was better than watching one of his allies start to unravel.

Cisco jerked awake, unfolding himself from the odd sleeping position he had adopted in his kitchen chair. Lowering his foot from his chair, and stretching the knot in his lower back, he let out a groan of satisfaction as he started to feel himself loosen up. For a confused moment, he couldn't recognize his apartment through the swatch of red that covered his field of vision. Then a moment after that, he was confused as to why he was shaking.

Why the chair was shaking.

Why the table was shaking.

"What the…?" he looked around the room, yawning. This didn't make sense. Even his half-asleep Nothing else was shaking.

Not the pots in the cabinets. Not the pictures frames on the shelves. Not even the stacks of books sitting around the apartment. Yet, the longer he sat, the harder the shaking became. His chair rocked from side to side. The table started inching its way across the floor. Cisco reached up a hand to pull away the red fabric that was stuck to his face and tossed it onto the table, finding himself looking back at a patched-up Flash suit.

Planting his hands on the table, Cisco pulled himself out of his seat and to a standing position. As soon as he straightened, and he lifted his hands from the table, the shaking stopped. Pulling his eyebrows towards each other, Cisco looked down at his hands, turning them over to stare at his palms. They tingled, and a grey-blue glow faintly covered his hands a moment before disappearing. Cisco curled his fingers inwards and shook out his hands, trying to ease the tingling feeling.

"Are you sewing again?" Dante asked with a frown as shuffled his way out of his room. "That thing is ancient and so noisy." He set his backpack down on the floor and made his way into the kitchen.

"That machine is a god send," Cisco said, stretching his arms over his head. "Abuela said it's always done wonders."

"If us being on speaking terms is a wonder, I guess I'll have to agree with you, mijo," Dante commented, retrieving a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. "Who knows where we'd be if she couldn't sew the heads back on my stuffed animals?"

"If you weren't selfish, and would just let me play with them, the heads wouldn't have come off," Cisco replied evenly. "You should see it as a good thing."

Dante let out a bark of laughter. "How so?"

"If I didn't know about stuffing, my cosplay game wouldn't be as on point as it is now." He turned around to face Dante, leaning against the kitchen table. "Your classes aren't until later. What are you doing up so early?"

"Library," Dante replied. "If you're going to be this noisy in the morning, I need to find another place to study." He lifted the lid of the carton. "Eggs?"

"You say that as if you haven't lived with me before," Cisco pointed out to him. He then nodded his head to answer his brother's first question. "Yes, please."

"You were at school, or doing lab work," Dante said, starting on making them breakfast, "or holed up in your room, or at your apartment, or S.T.A.R. Labs. No, it never felt like you ever really lived at home."

Cisco just hummed in reply. Between all of that, their dad out on the road, and their mom fawning all over Dante, it wasn't like he felt like he had a family, anyway. So, what difference did it make? It wasn't an argument worth having this morning. Or at all. Not again, anyway. How many times had they rehashed that one argument over the past couple of years? And even more when it was told to Cisco that Dante was going to be living with him.

"You're going to the library?" Cisco instead chose to ask. Something about that struck him.

"I used to spend all my time in the music library at school," Dante said, with a hint of frustration "why is this any different to you?"

"Well, it's not," Cisco admitted. How many times had he sat through Dante's exasperated rants about having to analyze musical passages for assignments? Or for ear training? He had played so many pieces of music over the years, Cisco would pick it out in the background of television shows and movies – whether he knew the title or composer or not. He would even hum parts of it at times. Between Dante and Dr. Wells's admiration for classical music, he had been exposed to it a lot more to classical music in his life than he realized. Still, 80s synth pop was more his style. "You studying books is different from you studying music? I guess? Are you studying alone or-?"

"I'm meeting some guys from my class," Dante replied. He looked at Cisco over his shoulder when he didn't immediately respond. "Don't make that face, Cisco."

"What face?" Cisco asked, distracted. That comment had struck him. But, he couldn't figure out why it felt so familiar to him. So off. Like a moment of déjà vu. Only he wasn't entirely sure why he felt that this was something that should be so familiar to him.

"Like it's weird that I have friends," Dante replied.

Cisco laughed derisively. "You were always the popular one, Dante," he replied. "The closest friends I had, was anyone I tutored."

"Yeah, well, now you have Barry, and Caitlin, and Iris, and Averey," Dante pointed out to him, turning away from the stove to point at him with his spatula. "And everyone that comes in through S.T.A.R. Labs that you help. You have friends." He let out an odd laugh. "Now, I'm just the old guy trying to fit in with everyone at school."

"You have people your age in grad school," Cisco pointed out to him.

"Yeah, but everyone in my program all went to undergrad together," Dante explained. "So, they already know each other and stuff." He said it as nonchalantly as possible, Cisco noticed, but he still could hear something in his brother's words.

Cisco felt himself frowning, partially from still being unable to grasp the why he felt so off about the idea of Dante's friends, and partially from how hard things seemed to be for his brother. This was weird to him. Now he was the one being viewed as the popular one out of the two. And he had never realized it. He had always thought that Dante had an easy time talking to people and making friends at school. He had always been lauded by teachers, other musicians. No one ever had a bad thing to say about Dante.

Cisco had put in a lot of work following pop culture, as a means to have something in common with people he went to school with. And it didn't always work. Winning science fairs and writing top notch essays wasn't the coolest thing to be known for. He knew that. Everyone knew that. Still, Cisco was proud of his accomplishments. He just never saw it coming where he would be considered the more popular one; the one that had friends to hang out with after work. Now that being a nerd was a pretty normal thing in society, and he was in a situation where most people he was surrounded by was just as intelligent as he was, he didn't feel like the odd one out.

So, what was it that Dante would try and find a common ground with? Removing the Flash suit from the table, Cisco continued to mull over the nagging thought. "So, The Flash got into a big fight last night, right?" Dante asked, nodding towards the suit Cisco moved to hang form the handle of the refrigerator. Cisco ignored the curl of Dante's lip at the placement and made a mental note to remember to stop by the laundry mat sometime soon or everyone would be able to identify The Flash and Visionary's presence by their smell.

"Yeah, pretty big," Cisco replied. "Everyone's ok. He managed to get there in time. Visionary, too." He kept his back turned from Dante, pulling his mouth to the sided his mouth to the side. Mr. Larkin didn't make it home that night, from what he could gather from Barry during their debriefing. He had ushered as many of the newspaper staff off the floor as soon as Dr. Light had started her rampage, and still wouldn't join them until he had made sure every floor was clear. Not anyone would do something as brave as that.

And Cisco couldn't openly talk about it. Not as much as he would like to, anyway. He didn't know the man personally, just as a byline in the paper, but to put yourself out there like that was a big deal. And he didn't have metahuman abilities. So, what does that make you? Cisco thought to himself, biting down on his lower lip, finding himself transfixed on the lightning bolt emblem on Barry's suit. He had abilities. At some point he had to admit that to himself: he had abilities. But he wasn't sure what that meant. Did he have to become a hero now? Was this all still part of a plan from Dr. Wells they weren't privy to?

A coward. Cisco gently kicked the refrigerator. It makes you a coward. Cowards don't have powers and hide them from people. Cisco glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye. Dante had started whistling as he waited for the eggs to cook. This was just another reason why Dante should never have moved in. He had barely gotten the chance to figure out his abilities himself (and to figure out how to explain away the apartment fire) before he had his brother's signature drying on the lease.

If Dante knew too much, he could be targeted for a second time. It was already a risk with him knowing of Cisco's involvement with the Flash at S.T.A.R. Labs already. Whatever little bit of information he could hold on to, he would do that.

"Eat up," Dante announced, snapping Cisco out of his thoughts and towards the table. Cisco retrieved the cutlery before retrieving glasses, and orange juice from the refrigerator. "Are you going to be here for dinner?"

"Not sure," Cisco replied, pushing his hair out of his face. "Why? You have class this evening, don't you?"

"Yeah," Dante said with a nod. He used the side of his fork to cut through his eggs and the yolk instantly started spilling out. "Just wondering how much to make for dinner. Or, if you wanted to, we could meet up at the bar like we've been saying."

Cisco dragged his sliver of egg through his yolk. A night of drinking really did sound good. And he had been the one to suggest it in the first place. They lived with each other for crying out loud, sooner or later they would have to do something together. And how much different was eating breakfast together than going to a bar? There'd be so much noise we wouldn't have to pretend not to hear each other.

He was saved from answering by his phone vibrating in his pocket. His eyebrows came towards each other when he saw Barry's name come up on his caller ID. "What's up?" he asked as soon as he answered the call.

"Hey, Cisco, uh, you're going to want to come over here," Barry said. Cisco propped his phone in between his shoulder and ear and started eating faster. Dante peered curiously at him over his plate. "We've still got things to settle from last night."

"Gob it," Cisco said into his phone around his mouthful of food. "I'll be there soon." He ended the call and set his phone down onto the table, jumping to his feet.

"Everything ok?" Dante asked. Cisco let out an odd laugh.

For the most part, yes, everything was ok. But he couldn't fully explain the twisting of his stomach as he thought about what waited for him at S.T.A.R. Labs. Or how clammy his hands got. Or how much faster his heart started beating the closer he got to work nowadays. Would today be the day his abilities manifested in front of the others? How would they react?

What would they do if he told them that the man they believed to be Dr. Wells had told him that this would happen? And if that was true, how much more was going to happen that they didn't know about? How much more of their lives had already been pre-determined by a man he trusted? And how would they react if they found out just how long he had been keeping his abilities to himself?

How often had he heard Caitlin explain the importance of sharing whatever discoveries or breakthroughs they had come upon during their experiments. If the first group of employees didn't share each other's accomplishments, S.T.A.R. Labs might not have been at the epicenter of great scientific achievement. Now look where they were.

Gathering his belongings, Cisco shook his hair back from his head. It wasn't that long ago that his stomach would twist in excitement for each day he got to go to S.T.A.R. Labs. "Yeah, everything's fine," he replied. "I just need to head into work earlier than I was expecting. And I still need to stop by the dry cleaners. I'll let you know where I'm at later on tonight, ok?"

"Sure. But, don't worry about it. I mean, it's not a big deal. There might be a game on or something, I can watch – that's my bag." Cisco snatched his hand away from the handle of the bag, startled by Dante's sudden change of tone. "You saw me put it there."

"Sorry," Cisco said. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Well, maybe you should."

"Dude, what is your problem?" Cisco asked, straightening so he could cross his arms over his chest. "I'm rushing. Sorry."

Dante pulled his lips into his mouth. Then a moment later, he expelled his breath in a huff of air and said, "I just have all my school stuff in there." Cisco widened his eyes in a "Yeah, so?" kind of way. "It's organized, I have weekly quizzes, and chapter outlines due, everything has to be in it's proper spot."

"Geeze," Cisco said running his hands over his face. "You're even more put together than I remember. God forbid, you don't have your school-books in alphabetical order." He clasped his hands at the back of his head. "You and sports, man. That's something I never saw coming."

School sports were one thing; Dante only attended them on occasion as a means to hang out with his friends after whatever accompaniment he had been asked to take part in. College games weren't anything he ever attended as he spent most of his time rehearsing for recitals every chance he got. Professional sports games? He could barely be pulled away from family making song requests at Thanksgiving to pay attention to which team was playing – and he really could only differentiate them by the color of their jerseys. What would make him start to pay attention to them now?

"Dante," Cisco said slowly, lowering his arms, "what do you need the money for?"

"Last time I was at the Tap House, a friend covered a round of drinks," Dante explained. "Figured I'd return the favor at some point." He put his hand in his chin and let out a sigh through his nose. "Is there anything else you want to know, mom?"

Cisco's jaw dropped and Dante laughed. "I'm not being like mom!" he said.

"Yes, you are," Dante replied. "She'd always make us tell her specifically what we needed money for." Cisco opened and closed his mouth before accepting his point and nodding. He had always felt guilty asking his parents for money, they were already working so hard with their multiple jobs to provide for them. "Remember, that time Armando broke the back window to Mrs. Armstrong's van, and we needed to come up with a story to get some money from mom to pay for it before she found out?"

"I still don't think she realizes I didn't actually need that electric blanket," Cisco said with a laugh, "and I don't want to be in the same country as her when she finds out." He put a hand to his chin. "Though, I really could use one, now."

"I'll keep that in mind for Christmas," Dante said. He struck Cisco with a stare, lifting his eyebrows. "You should get going or you'll be late."

"Right, right. I gotta go." Cisco grabbed his belongings and was soon taking his usual route to S.T.A.R. Labs. Taking in deep breaths "Ok," he said, stepping into the Cortex, "what's going on?" Barry merely motioned towards the man standing by him and Cisco locked eyes with Harrison Wells. Blinking, he took in the sight of the man in front of him, who stared back at him with eyebrows slightly furrowed, already looking as if he was tired of being there. "Nope," he declared loudly. "No. Nope. Not today, man. Not today."

"Cisco," Barry said, moving to his side, "I wanted you here early so we could figure out how to...explain all of this to everybody. Especially Caitlin."

"No." He removed his hands from his pockets and tugged at the collar of his shirt. It suddenly felt too tight. Too hot. "I need a day," Cisco said, pressing his hands together over. He closed his eyes, bowing his head. Slowly breathed in through his nose and out his mouth. There was no way he was standing in the middle of S.T.A.R. Labs, looking at Harrison Wells. A standing Harrison Wells. A Harrison Wells that wasn't wearing glasses. "I was hoping this was a dream. I really was. I almost started thinking last night was just a terrible, terrible, dream. You didn't say anything about Harrison Wells helping you out last night. Not at all. Just one day, Barry." He looked up towards the ceiling. "One day of chill. That's all I ask. Please."

"Unfortunately, we all don't have the time you're asking for," Harrison Wells said in a gruff voice. Swallowing thickly, Cisco lifted his head to look the man in the eye. "You see, for Zoom, a day is like an instant. He's coming, and if you want to survive, you will need my help."

Somewhere on Earth-2

"How long have you been here, anyway?"

Eddie pulled his gaze from the ceiling of his box and turned his head to face Jesse who was slouched in the corner of her own. The man with the mask was seated cross-legged in the center of his own box, hands folded neatly in his lap. He had stopped knocking on the glass for now, but Eddie could still hear it ringing in his head from time to time.

Rolling onto his side, Eddie pulled himself into the fetal position, sighing when the pressure on his shoulder blades was relieved. What a question. How long had he been there? There were no windows in the room. No clocks. No calendars.

"I'm not sure," he replied. He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't even know what day it is anymore."

"My dad will help us get out of here," Jesse said. "He's really smart, he'll figure something out."

"Who's your dad?" Eddie asked. "If you don't mind my asking."

"Harrison Wells." Eddie did a double take. Pulling himself up off of the floor, he moved himself into a seated position, pulling his knees towards his chest. He must have misheard her. There's no way she had just said that Harrison Wells was her father. That just wasn't possible. "Huh, normally I get a different reaction than that." Jesse started speaking in a higher-pitched voice. "'Wow, your dad is the Harrison Wells? What's he like?'" She chuckled. "Well, he's just dad to me. Why are you look at me like that?"

"Because Harrison Wells is dead," Eddie said bluntly.

Jesse scoffed. "No, he's not."

"Yes, he is," Eddie insisted. "He died like…three years ago." Jesse stared back at him, slowly shaking her head back and forth. "There was a car crash. He and Tess Wells didn't survive. They never had a child."

"Yes, they did," Jesse insisted. She put her hands to her chest. "I'm Harrison Wells's daughter. I'd prove it, but I don't exactly have any ID on me right now."

Eddie put his head down on his forearms. None of this was making sense. He knew that Harrison Wells, or rather Eobard Thawne, was posing as Harrison Wells. That he was from the future. That he was his future descendant. There's no way he had a daughter. And if he did, why would he let someone take her? Then again, his father was a former Senator, and so far, a SWAT Team hadn't come barging into the place.

"Jesse?" Eddie lifted his head, looking up at her. "Where are we?"

Jesse gave Eddie a confused look. "Central City."

"In 2015?"

"Yes?"

"When?" Jesse gave Eddie a confused look. "When in 2015? When were you taken? Do you remember the date?"

"Um, October 15th, I think." Jesse's face scrunched up in thought. "I think so. I was preparing for an exam, I'm pretty sure." Eddie let out a groan, pushing his fingers up into his hair, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. "What?"

"October?" Eddie asked. "Are you sure?"

Jesse nodded. "Yes, why?"

"If that's true," Eddie said, "then, I think…" He trailed off, trying to form sense of his thoughts. He couldn't say it out loud. It would make everything too real. This nightmare would continue on for who knows how much longer. "Jesse, I think I've been here for a long, long time."

A/N: I had actually planned for this chapter to cover more than this, especially a longer scene of what's been going on on Earth-2, but it ended up feeling right that it was moreso a Cisco-centered chapter and, I needed a bit of a slow down and a break before the events of Enter Zoom started kicking things forward even more. You got to see a little bit more into how Cisco's feeling with his abilities, since he really can't hide them for much longer, and he's starting to piece together what' going on with Dante.

But Harry's now here and I'm now getting into writing Enter Zoom. I'm excited to write Harry's personality in with everyone else in the story, and Enter Zoom was one of my favorite episodes of season two. When I first planned out this fic, a lot of my ideas stemmed from the events of that one episode.

Thank you all for being so patient with my updates. Hoping to really get back into the swing of things and get chapters up more routinely. If they're all around this chapter length (the shortest one I've written for this series so far, I think, then it's possible.

Did you enjoy a specific spot in the chapter? Need further explanation on anything? Leave a comment.

-Rhuben

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Review Replies, Out of Focus:

Ethan Ambrose: There's a couple of similarities for the Allens I've shown throughout this fic, and you'll be seeing more, too. There's one I'm interested in seeing how people react to that's specifically in Flashpoint, as well. You'll get the answers to your questions regarding Barry's eyesight in the next chapter. Like I said, this chapter originally was going to have more to it, but it also felt right to be from Cisco's perspective. But yes, Harry did shoot the energy ball. That will be addressed as well.