Hi everyone, good to see you! hope you're having a good week. Warnings for this chapter: kidnapping, brief mention of human trafficking and the implications therein (very brief).
Chapter Six
In the clean, warmly lit stacks of the Central City library, Martin felt his heart lurch. Hardly the scientific term, of course, but all the same accurate. Something had gone horribly wrong. No one had answered his call to STAR Laboratory, which while not out of the question boded ill.
There were two things Martin Stein had not dared in the weeks past: calling his wife, for fear enemies might use such contact against them, and speaking to the authorities. He was, after all, legally a missing-presumed-dead person, a case gone cold months before. Coming out of that hiding might have brought a few peace of mind, but was hardly worth the risk. It was hard on him, and on Ronald, the hiding. On their loved ones as well, Clarissa, Caitlin, Ronald's parents. But it was better than the alternative that still sometimes haunted his dreams. The scar across his arm had only faded slightly, angry and red into thin white lines.
But now, Martin had to wonder if all that hiding had done any good at all. He could feel his heart racing, and his hands felt sweat-damp. Carefully, he stood and slid the book he'd been trying-pretending-to read back on the shelf. Gathering his things, he made to leave. The storage unit would be a safe enough place until he could find a way to contact Detective West. He wished he had done as Ronald had, bought a burner phone.
"Sir?" a voice behind him called sharply. That it was young and female didn't do anything to calm the professor's growing internal panic. "Excuse me, Sir?"
He quickened his pace, skirting around a loose gaggle of children with summer reading charts and stacks of paperbacks. No one chased him, and he slowed. Running, he well knew, would only attract attention, and he was not a young man. From a pocket, he pulled out a floppy hat, a little small in the brim, and his spare glasses, thicker in the frames. It was not much as disguises went, but it was all he had.
There was a postbox around the corner from the library. With a hand that trembled, Martin pulled an envelope out of his coat's inner pocket. It was several months old, wrinkled from being carried around. Quickly, he dumped it, then started for the storage facility. It was not a long walk, and he made it quickly enough, going roundabout in hopes that he was not being followed.
He punched in the code, reaching for the handle of the door, and frowned. The latch had not engaged properly. While Dr. Andresen was particularly absentminded, as were some of the others that used the space, forgetting something of this magnitude was unlike her. Martin tensed, something screaming in his head to escape, to take to the skies. It might almost have been Ronald's voice, or perhaps his own thoughts, but there was nowhere to turn. He could not fly without the other half of Firestorm, and as the door swung open under his hand, he saw the fatigue-uniformed trio waiting for him, weapons drawn.
He did not see the one who came up behind him, though he felt the sickening crack that sent him to his knees, and then the ground.
Barry ran. As the sky grew golden, the sun starting to set, Barry ran, searching the streets. Every alley on Cisco's walk home, every narrow cross-street, every bus stop or blind corner he paused at, just long enough to truly search for some sign of-well, of anything. Not bodies. They're alive, they have to be alive. He swept through the streets, doing his best not to leave shattered glass in his wake, something that only happened infrequently now, when he ran faster than he was used too. As deeply as he wanted to race, like he had through the pipeline, faster than ever before, that wouldn't help him find anything. So he forced himself to a slower pace, relatively, his hummingbird heart echoing with his own pulse in his ears, almost a voice, a command, find them, find them findthem findthem findthemfindthemfind-.
He skidded to a halt, lighting crackling and dying around him, charring the pavement slightly as he stopped. He had to call Joe, now, so much time had already been wasted and there wasn't any time to waste. His hands shook-he really needed another calorie bar-as he pulled out his phone, jabbing the speed dial for Joe after a last, desperate check. No new texts, no missed calls, no unheard messages.
"Barry?" Joe asked as he answered. Barry knew why he was confused, often now that he'd gotten faster, Barry would simply race over to share news. If it was Barry calling Joe, something was usually wrong. "What is it?"
"They're gone! Joe, they're gone!"
"Who's gone? Barry, slow down, I can't hear you," Joe said as Barry's voice blurred into a hum.
"Cisco, Caitlin, they're gone, I think, I think someone took them, there's no sign of-of forced entry at their places, can't find Caitlin's car, Cisco's shirt's not-"
"Come to the station," Joe's voice was firm. "I'll get the Captain and Eddie, we'll find them."
Barry forced himself to breathe, panic constricting his lungs. "I'm going to keep looking-there are places-Metahuman's haunts. Peekaboo's hangout, Mardon's place-"
"Barry, you need-"
"I'll call if I need backup, I have to keep looking!" Barry hung up, and started running again. Mardon's old apartment building, followed by the Darbynian family's restaurant, even though finding the Mist there was a long shot. The warehouse where Snart and Rory had held Caitlin was just as deserted as the other places, but it made a connection in his mind.
He tore through the Santini family safehouse where Cisco and his brother had been held, then their casino, then their other fronts, scattering papers and other things after him without a care. With the Darbynian family all but gone, the Santinis were the main crime family, and they had plenty of hideaways. He didn't bother to pause and stop the crime he saw-counterfeiting, plans for a bank's safe with tools, and what had to be drugs-the police could handle that. Caitlin and Cisco were his only priority-at first.
He did stop at one, a warehouse. There was a locked room, armed men standing guard outside it. But when he knocked them out at supersonic speed-it was so easy to reach 500, 800 miles an hour now- and shattered the deadbolt, the captives he found were not his friends but a trio of terrified teenage girls. As much as he was desperate to locate Caitlin and Cisco, he couldn't leave them to wait for help that might not arrive before backup from their captors. He sped them to safety, and resumed the search, expanding the arc. If it wasn't the Santinis-then who?
It was many hours past sundown when Iris called. Barry had only paused long enough to down calorie bars in place of dinner, and the slim moon was high above, light pollution blocking out most of the stars.
"Barry, are you still out there?" Iris asked.
"Iris, I have to keep-" he shook his head to clear the blurriness from his eyes. "Keep looking."
"You're no good to them if you run yourself to death," Iris responded. "The CCPD's on it. Dad pulled some strings, so did Eddie, just come home, sleep for an hour or two, eat some real food."
"I can't-"
"Bartholomew Henry Allen-" Iris started, and Barry swayed on his feet. An hour. Two tops. He could manage that, and start searching Keystone in the morning- but first he had to check Star Labs-there might be demands, or a trap waiting that he could spring, something. Anything.
"Ok," he said, gloved hand reaching up on instinct to rub the back of his neck. He hit the button on the side of his cowl that turned off the comm unit, and, after checking two more buildings, sped his way to STAR Labs. the phone there blinked to show calls had come in, but no messages left. Desperate, he redialed the numbers. The first went right to an automated voicemail, just the number, not even a name. The second rang and rang and rang, with no answer at all. Telemarketer? A business closed for the night? He scribbled down the numbers and made for Joe's, knowing Iris would call again if he didn't. He wasn't sure he could take that. He made for home, his legs aching as much as his head and heart.
Exhaustion won out nearly as soon as he reached the couch in Joe's living room.
He had not meant to sleep more than an hour, but when he woke, the sky was bright, not even the pink-gold of dawn or washed-out blue of early morning but brilliantly blue, the sun well over the horizon. Joe was gone, but had left a note for Barry to stop at the station and to eat the breakfast waiting. Barry rolled his eyes at the pot of oatmeal, added almost half a jar of honey, and devoured it. Even with what Caitlin theorized after reading Eobard's files was the Speedforce stabilizing his body, he still needed an upwards of ten thousand calories a day, more if he was running a lot. He wasn't planning on stopping until he'd found them, this time, even if he had to search every abandoned building, squatters hold, warehouse, or basement in the state.
Barry did take the time to try again to call Oliver, Felicity, Firestorm, but nothing went through. Oliver and Felicity, Barry remembered dully, were gone somewhere, up and left in the wake of so much catastrophe, and Firestorm moved around a lot-still. He left messages, frantic, where he could, emailed three of Felicity's high priority emails, hoping she checked even just one of them, and at last called Clarissa.
"Mr. Allen? What is it?" she answered the phone after three rings, and he could hear the note of frown in her voice. "Is it my husband?"
"Have you spoken to him lately?" Barry asked. "I'm trying to get ahold of him and Ronnie, but the number they gave me's been disconnected."
"Oh, dear," Clarissa said. " No, we don't talk over the phone. Much too risky. We send messages in the classifieds in some papers-nothing too local to either of us. The last one was this morning, but they have to go in two days in advance, so there may be a message tomorrow….not that that helps you, of course. He mentioned that they were moving to a new area-I think further north. I believe he's trying to get in contact with some of his Canadian friends, co-authors and things, but that's all I know."
"Thanks anyway," Barry said, failing at keeping his voice cheerful. "I should go-"
"No. What's this about? Is there some kind of trouble? Or is this like the hole in the sky-something else you need my Martin's help with?"
"I-" Barry drew a breath. "Caitlin Snow, Ronnie's fiance? She's missing."
"Oh my. Are the police-?"
"Yeah, no, yeah, but I wondered if-I needed to let Ronnie know. Get his help-their help-searching."
"I'll check the records I have, see if any of Martin's friends…" she trailed off. "You'll find her. You brought my husband back to me, twice."
"I need to keep looking. Thanks, Mrs. Stein."
"Clarissa, dear. I'll call if I learn anything."
Barry hung up, cursed softly, and ran for all he was worth. Central City wasn't massive, but it wasn't small either, and neither was Keystone-to say nothing of the state. Hell, it had been a full day, longer possibly (probably), whoever had taken them-if they'd had a car, they could be anywhere in the country, if they had a plane it could be anywhere in the world. He was only one man. No, you're the Flash, so keep looking. He sped down the walkway near the waterfront, checking boat sheds and the buildings along the docks-shipping containers could take days to search just by sight, what Barry wouldn't have traded for x-ray vision or one of Cisco's inventions. Afternoon was rapidly approaching when he reached a new block of warehouses in Keystone, privately owned. Most were full of stuff-one was a supply center for Big Belly Burger kid's meal toys, it seemed, one was full of bales of cloth, another with probably black market stolen antiquities. Barry's feet ached, and breathing set his lungs on fire, but he kept searching until his earpiece buzzed.
"Joe?" Barry panted, coming to a stop. "Did you find something?"
"Yeah. Son, you need to come to the station." Joe's voice was wrong. It sounded heavy, defeated. Barry's heart stuttered in his chest. "Joe? What is it? What did you find?"
"We had APBs out. The whole Tri-state. Rangers up at Piedmont State Park just called." Barry froze. The name was familiar, but he couldn't place it.
"Joe? What did they find?!"
"Up by Hudson falls. They...they found Caitlin's car."
Thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave comments, thoughts, theories, capslock keysmashes, etc. see you next week!