Spoilers: Orion references characters, events, and themes from all episodes of The Flash through 02x22 Invincible, all comics featuring Zoom/Hunter Zolomon, and various comics released under the New 52.

Warning: Orion contains adult content, graphic description of violence, and dark material that exceed canon-typical levels. Please mind the M rating.

Additional warnings: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of violence, human experimentation, graphic descriptions of trauma, descriptions of meta-violence, and a lot of other terrible stuff. The other chapters talk about a war zone, but this chapter drags you neck-deep into it.

Chapter Summary: Zoom finally makes his move against the MTU, and Caitlin goes on her first mission as Bellatrix.


Chapter Seven
The Heavenly Shepherd


Fort Green stood in the shadow of the Appalachians. It was an unremarkable army base named for an admiral who, some two hundred years ago, did something worthy becoming the namesake of the structure, though most historians maintained that the story was more folk legend than fact. Technically, the fort's mission was a well-guarded secret, but anyone with the right connections could parrot the same report: Fort Greene was where the youngest, greenest recruits and officers went to get whipped into shape with grueling missions deep in the wilderness of the mountains. It was staffed with nothing but untested soldiers and a handful of old timers who were assigned there to wind down their careers.

Perhaps that was why, for four hundred miles in every direction, there was nothing but sleepy towns with five or six thousand souls at most. Neither was there a historical site, landmark, tourist trap, or public attraction of any kind, despite a recent influx in government funds for unspecified infrastructure improvements.

Thirty miles from Fort Greene, there was a four-story office building that, for all outward appearances, was the research and development branch of some company with a very forgettable name. Beyond the locks on its doors, there were no obvious security measures, not even a fence.

There was no reason to suspect that it was the primary stronghold for the Metahuman Tactile Unit.

It was an incredible feat of ingenuity, hiding a fortress in plain sight. An intricate underground tunnel system - expanded exponentially with government funds - enabled the undetected transport of goods, personnel, and prisoners. The supposedly ramshackle army base provided formidable resources when called upon; its phony reputation just one more aspect of the facility's concealment.

For the past two years, countless metahumans had sought this facility, yet Blink tracked it down in two months, mere days after uncovering the MTU's secret weapon. Her sudden, sweeping successes did not go unnoticed, and despite having Totem and several others confirm the voracity of her intel, Hunter felt uneasy by Blink's recent insight into the MTU.

There was only one reasonable conclusion: she had an asset. A prisoner, a minion, a decryption key... something that gave her an edge. Most metas in her position would've handed over whatever-it-was to Zoom as soon as they discovered it, not only to win favor but also to be rid of the responsibility. Blink, however, insisted that her victories required nothing more than her extended teleportation abilities, which Totem had provided at his command several months prior.

Withholding from Zoom was a brazen thing to do: metas had died for far less. That was what bothered him the most. Blink wasn't foolish or suicidal enough to lie to him. Something else was going on; he could feel it.

It left Hunter in a quandary that Zoom never had to face. He had a strict policy of never allowing any meta to become indispensable. Every minion needed to know that if they stepped out of line, they would be killed and replaced without a second thought. Blink had transformed into a key player overnight and was rapidly approaching that "vital" label he so loathed, and now that Caitlin was under his protection, he couldn't let anyone hold that kind of sway. It was only a matter of time before Blink attempted to wrest control of real power.

She won't.

He didn't need pitiful self-reassurance. No, what he required was leverage -

Blink would never risk her son's wellbeing, let alone his life. Not for anything.

Hunter took a deep breath. He had gotten so wound up that he'd forgotten about her son. Some of his older lieutenants had adult children, but Blink was the only significant player that had a child who depended on her. That made the equation very different.

The only thing she might do is take her kid and run. But not now with the MTU hunting them both.

Hunter felt much calmer, much more in control. He had time to figure out Blink's asset and endgame, assuming she had one at all. Until then, he'd keep close tabs on her, and a very durable tracking device on Blink Junior. Just in case.

Don't leave her on the front lines.

That brought a smile to his face. Normally, a raid like tonight's would depend on Blink's gift for sabotage and mayhem, and after what the MTU did to her son, she was chomping at the bit to wreak havoc. That meant his precaution would also serve as punishment.

His smile widened. Doling out retribution - even a small one - was well within his comfort zone.


Caitlin trudged up the stairs to the kitchen, weary to the bone. She hadn't slept well the night previous, tossing and turning with dreams so vivid they allowed her no rest. Actually, it was just the one, over and over again, as if she fell back into the dream as soon as she closed her eyes. One minute, she was in her bed, and the next, she'd be standing outside on the doorstep with a cold wind riffling her hair. A distant silhouette waited on the beach, little more than a hazy shadow on the horizon, yet she felt drawn to it. Her feet would slip through the sands as she rushed to meet whoever awaited her. Each time, she came so very, very close... close enough to recognize Cisco's warm smile right before she jolted awake.

It made her homesick and compounded her loneliness. Maybe that was why she felt disappointed when she found the kitchen empty. That was certainly more palatable than the idea that she, on some level, wanted to see Hunter.

No, this is how abuse works, she reminded herself. He gets inside your heart, messes with your head, makes you dependent on him, isolates you. Don't let him win. You didn't want to see him. You wanted to see Cisco or Iris or Barry because you don't want to be alone. You miss them, not him.

She rationalized all the way to her bedroom. Had she not been so mired in her thoughts, she might've noticed the faint scent of electrified iron or the minute signs of disturbance, and she wouldn't have been so startled when she found someone standing by her bed.

After a moment, she realized it wasn't a person but a manikin decked out in a deep blue suit that reminded her of those worn by the various Doctor Midnights. Instead of the symbol of their mantle - a light blue crescent moon - on the forehead, it had a many-pointed star with radiating lines. There were other deviations, such as the cut and color of the trim, which more closely resembled Killer Frost's suit than Doctor Midnight's, yet it still maintained the general look and feel. Anyone would be hard-pressed to distinguish between the two with a quick glance.

Caitlin didn't have to inspect it any further to know that it had been made for her, but she couldn't imagine why. She turned to take in the rest of the room, expecting to see Hunter casually leaning against the far wall smugly waiting to explain everything, but she was alone.

She returned her focus to the suit, wondering after its construction. Usually, designs like this were implemented to resolve environmental issues that arose from meta-powers, like the friction Barry generated when he ran at superspeeds, or to augment and control their abilities, like Cisco's Vibe Goggles. But she had no powers to facilitate or compensate for, so why would someone make her a suit?

That was when she noticed the note on her bedside table.

Bellatrix:

Apologies for the delay in dinner. It will be ready at seven.

Rest up while you can because, before dawn, you'll be suiting up.

Be ready.

It wasn't signed, and she didn't recognize the handwriting. It also didn't sound like something Hunter or Totem would write, and she wondered if the author might be the one responsible for the meals and the general caretaking of the house. She wanted to thank them, whoever they were.

Caitlin's stomach growled loudly. Seven o'clock couldn't come soon enough.


Fire and ice collided, and the resulting tremor shook open the already-cracked walls, splitting them down to the foundation. Cheers of triumph joined the cacophony of destruction as the bulk of the meta-army finally received the signal to attack. The rise in numbers forced their enemies into a hasty and desperate retreat. An unnatural darkness descended over the area and choked out all the lights, compliments of a powerful quasi-mystic named Shade. Hunter never trusted the man, but his ability to manipulate shadows proved invaluable to a siege.

But even Shade is expendable, he thought as he donned his Nightshade Goggles, designed specifically to see in Shade's overcast.

He winced at the initial brightness, but his sight rapidly adjusted, becoming twice as sharp. He took a moment to watch the throng of metas charge down the brave few who stood their ground to provide cover fire for their fleeing comrades. A handful of stragglers likewise fell under his soldier's advanced, perhaps victims of Deathbolt's blasts or Berserker's unstoppable fists. Wave after wave of his minions flooded the battered facility, making the possibilities truly endless.

He couldn't let them have all the fun, now could he?

He sped into the fray, and to him, everything unfolded in painfully slow motion. It took centuries for the retreating agents to shout, "Zoom! Run! Zoom!" After that, it was eons before they pulled the triggers on their already-raised weapons, and an age before the bullets left their chambers.

Struck with a playful idea, Zoom wound through his enemies and spun them this way and that so that carefully aimed, specially enhanced, anti-metahuman weapons achieved nothing but friendly fire when they discharged.

Normally he would blaze through personnel in a battle, but tonight he had the exotic pleasure of disarming and maiming his foes before leaving them helpless to the wrath of the oncoming storm of his meta-army. The high from running mingled with the euphoria induced by the snapping of bones and the spilling of blood. He got caught up in his revelry, barely noticing Pyranis directing flame like a missile or Scrap effortlessly deflecting the very bullets designed to revert his body from steel to flesh.

He raced ahead, ready to decimate whatever security measures the MTU had mounted in their next feeble defense. This place was like a maze, a castle with countless areas to fortify and fall back to, and he was going to tear every last one of them down.

He was zipping through the next corridor when his feet went out from under him. He was knocked on his ass, blue lightning and all.

Looks like you've just met the MTU's secret weapon.

Zoom glanced up at the sole defender of this particular fortification: a woman in her late twenties with a modified assault riffle pointed right at his heart. The orbs of her jade eyes shined unnaturally under the influence of the Nightshade Goggles, flaring dramatically with her medium-length blond hair.

He had more than enough time to take in her features and confirm her identity before the bullets started flying. He dodged them, but it was far from an effortless evasion. It was like he was running through Turtle's field of stolen kinetic energy but fifty times worse. Something was acting like a dampener on his powers... all of his powers, leaving him with only the barest of super-speed.

That, and she was using friction-targeting bullets, which were drawn to him like tiny angry magnets. He took a few hits to his left arm and shoulder before he broke past the dampener and led the bullets into the next hallway, where they struck a handful of MTU reinforcements, cutting them down like a bolt of lightning.

He immediately sought Killer Frost, going so far as to whisk her away before her kill shot hit its mark. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes since he escaped the secret weapon, yet in that time, she had injured Pyranis and Scrap. Her victories drew the attention of the most powerful metas advancing on her position.

It was foolish, but this woman had been responsible for the capture of countless metahumans, including Geomancer, Gigawatt, Count Vertigo, and Silencer. The reports suggested - or, rather, hinted - that she had a resistance to meta-abilities, but if his recent experience was any indication, her abilities were far more expansive. He wanted to see it for himself.

So he dragged Frost behind a secure barricade and watched as Deathbolt delivered blast after blast as he closed in on the seemingly invincible MTU Agent. She dodged a few, but most of them hit her, though they may have been drops of rain for all the effect they had on her. She was remarkably patient, waiting until he was only a few yards away before returning fire, hitting her mark on the second try. Zoom had no idea what kind of weapon discharged, but it made Deathbolt wail in agony as it threw him through a solid wall of cement and steel.

She didn't even notice when lighting charred the floor behind her feet. She rounded on Typhoon when he screamed in a rage. He loosed a dozen more bolts, but each one grounded rather than striking her. Undeterred by the wind and hail of his frustration, she raised a handgun and pulled the trigger over and over again, which Typhoon evaded. It was a simple enough diversion; it kept him occupied as she closed the distance between them. Before she reached him, however, Black Siren let out a screech strong enough to crush a man's skull.

He watched as the energy of her scream rebounded on Black Siren, silencing her booming cry and throwing her clear across the room, where concealed by a barricade caught her. He couldn't see who it was, probably a member of her entourage or one of the other Sirens.

Zoom had seen enough. He didn't have the luxury of being impressed with her, not while she was mowing through his army like The Terminator. She had defended herself against five of his best fighters as many minutes, and beyond that, she had done it all without night vision goggles or any defense against Shade's shadows.

He grabbed Frost's arm and said in his modulated voice, "Remember, I want her alive."

She sneered, but he didn't give her time to reply before he sped her into the line of fire. Again, his powers began to dwindle, as if something was leaning on his abilities, choking them off at the source. He skidded to a graceless halt far closer than he had planned, nearly tripping over Frost as he put her down.

"Agent Cameron Chase?" Frost prompted.

"Yeah. And who the hell are you?" Chase demanded.

"Killer Frost."

Zoom bolted from the fray, grabbing Typhoon and relocating him to a high vantage point overlooking the thickest part of the fighting.

"Destroy them," he ordered.

He left Typhoon before he could reply.

The only true threat in this entire building filled with anti-metahuman measures and weapons was Special Agent Cameron Chase, and he needed to secure her capture before beginning the next phase of his plan. So he raced for a better line of sight and kept moving, diverting overly curious parties while observing the fight.

Chase's assault rifle was discarded, trapped in a solid block of ice. She pulled out one weapon after the other, but Frost froze them before she could fire. Yet she kept going, as if she had an endless supply of firearms inside her coat. He smiled. It had only been a theory until this moment, but Zoom had surmised that someone resistant to meta-powers would be easy prey to an other-powered person who was presumed metahuman. Chase was just like the people she took down: a metahuman too reliant on her own powers. It was clear as day that she had never before faced an opponent with abilities intact.

Killer Frost loosing her powers unencumbered by doubt was a beautiful thing to behold. She was glorious in a fury, though even then, she didn't hold a candle to her Earth-1 counterpart.

His happy thoughts were interrupted by a piercing scream.

It came from Frost. He could see her lips move and her face contorted, but it sounded like it emanated from somewhere else. It was like his mind refused to believe that Frost was injured.

But in the next second, black-red blood blossomed over the right side of her suit, spouting from near her collarbone. Chase pressed her advantage, raising a miniscule gun for another shot, only to have Frost retaliate with a harpoon-sized icicle. It was poorly aimed and barely scraped Chase's arm as it pierced her coat and embedded into the wall behind her, trapping her arm and giving Frost the time she needed to turn the pesky gun into an ice cube.

He should've been furious with Frost for attempting to kill Chase, but he found he was more concerned about what Caitlin would do if Frost died from a treatable wound.

She would never let you hear the end of it. She will never trust you.

Frost pinned Chase down and frosted-over her coat with a single, chilly finger. The MTU's secret weapon was slowly turning blue.

It was lamentable, but he really did need Chase alive.

He waited until the last second to yank Frost away, earning an icy blast for his trouble. He vibrated it off as he growled at the pain, but in truth, he was pleased. He stood right next to Chase, but this time, his powers were intact.

"BLINK!" he shouted. "BLINK!"

The teleporter appeared as if rising from the mists, her face neutral, though he knew she was furious that he ordered her to wait in the shadows during such a battle.

"Take Agent Chase!" he ordered. "Keep her sedated in a carbyne cell. I'll call when I need you again."

She nodded her head, yes and begrudgingly took hold of the slightly frozen MTU Agent. Then they both vanished into the darkness.

Though nobody could see beneath his cowl, Zoom was smiling like a madman. Now the real fun could begin.


Several hours later... Caitlin jolted awake, confused. She had been so certain she wouldn't be able to fall asleep when she curled up on top of her bed, but now she couldn't imagine what had so rudely awakened her.

Then, as if her mind was catching up to her senses, the acrid smell of chemicals and blood filled her nostrils, driving her stomach into churning knots. It was the kind of scent that came with a taste, and it was so horrid it made her gag.

"Caitlin?"

He appeared in front of her with his telltale flash of blue lightning, his soft voice a stark contrast to his battered suit.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Her first instinct was to recoil, but there was nowhere for her to go. The offensive odor lingered, burning the inside of her nostrils.

"I'm fine," she replied. "It's just... that smell..."

He ripped off his cowl and revealed his sweaty face, and it made her wonder what he had just been through. He seemed off to her, like he had returned to his senses after days of neglect.

You're imagining it.

"I apologize, but there's not much time," he explained. "Your suit will protect you, even from the smell. But it's not enough to keep you safe. So if you're serious about coming on this mission, I need you to promise me two things."

"What two things?" she asked, tempted to refuse his requests out of spite.

"You will remain with your bodyguards at all times," he said.

She didn't like the idea, but without powers of her own, she wouldn't it be able to defend herself or patients. She would need help. At the very least, it sounded as if she wouldn't be stuck with him all night.

So she nodded her head, yes.

"Good," he said. "And promise to remember that you don't know these people."

"What?"

"In this universe," he explained. "No matter who they are to you on Earth-1, you don't know them on Earth-2. They don't take kindly to strangers who know their legal names. Taken names, and only if you absolutely must. You don't know these people, Caitlin."

She saw true concern in his eyes, and it worried her. Whether or not his feelings for her were real, he had a vested interest in keeping her alive. That begged the question, who did he think she'd see and mistake for a friend?

"All right," she replied. "I won't forget."

His curled his lips and bared his teeth, giving her a brief glimpse of his ugly smile before it disappeared under his cowl.

"Get dressed, Bellatrix," he said in his modulated Zoom voice. "Blink will be waiting for you downstairs in ten minutes."

His lightning flickered, but he hesitated, lingering in her room for a few seconds too long. He zipped over to her and placed a kiss on her forehead, light and gentle through his mask.

"Be careful," he added.

He raced away before she could respond, leaving her somewhere between annoyed and startled. Her eyes wandered to the clock; it was nearly two in the morning.

Again, she turned her attention to the suit. It seemed silly, but if wearing this thing was what she needed to do to keep tabs on Hunter and figure out his endgame, then that's what she'd do.

She struggled to put it on. The material was much heavier than it appeared. It was one solid piece, which forced her to pull it on from her feet, and the fact that it was made to be skin-tight didn't help matters. Yet, after four full minutes fighting with it, it slid into place, and every inch of it fit her perfectly.

She glowered at the hood and mask before pulling it on. She thought it would feel stuffy and suffocating, but the material was light and didn't restrict her breathing, though mercifully, it canceled out the foul smell that still hung in the room.

She descended the stairs, surprised at how natural the suit felt, like a light summer dress. She found Blink pacing in the kitchen, practically exuding impatience.

"We need to leave," Blink said abruptly. "Keep alert. We'll have the mercs with us - "

"The who?" Caitlin interrupted.

"The mercenaries," she replied tersely. "Heat Wave and Colonel Cold. They call the shots. Do what they say when they say it. It's my job to get you in and out alive, and for my son's sake, I will not fail. Do you understand?"

If she was being honest, Caitlin didn't understand anything. She had demanded to join this mission to protect her doppelganger and to prove to Hunter... to show him... damnit, she had been so frustrated and angry, so desperate to make a point, she hadn't really thought about what she was asking. Now she was about to enter siege with Earth-2's Mick Rory and Leonard Snart bossing her around while she scrambled to save... who, exactly? Bloodthirsty minions of Zoom? The so-called doctors who removed Blink Junior's eyes as an experiment?

Caitlin Snow was a doctor. She had taken an oath to do no harm, and as part of that, she had helped people she loathed and saved people she didn't trust. Every time, she told herself that she had done the right thing. Was that what she was doing now?

It didn't matter. She knew Blink wasn't going to wait for her to wrangle her doubts, so she quelled her tumultuous thoughts with self-deceit.

"I understand," she lied.

Somewhere between heartbeats - between the moment Blink reached for her and actually grabbed hold of her - she decided that tonight she wouldn't be Caitlin Snow with all her attendant complications... tonight, she would be Bellatrix, whatever that meant.

The next thing she knew, she was standing under the night sky. Blink had teleported them to a small clearing in a forest that reeked of burning flesh and embers.

Without a word of explanation, Blink set off through the trees, and Caitlin followed, scrambling to keep up. The tree line came to an abrupt halt at a cliff-like overlook that opened into a smoking crater with the charred and battered remains of an office building. It looked like the epicenter of a disaster or a terrorist attack.

That's because it was a terrorist attack.

"You're early," a woman said from behind them.

Caitlin spun around, surprised. She had expected Heat Wave and Captain - no, Colonel - Cold to be similar to their Earth-1 counterparts, but here they were decked out in cyborg-like enhancements. She assumed the man outfitted in a suit of metallic red was Heat Wave, which meant the woman in cerulean blue steel was Colonel Cold. They were both white with dark brown hair, and something about their body language made her think they were siblings. It was hard to tell, though, because they were wearing heavy-duty goggles that covered most of their faces.

"Why are you still in Nightshades?" Blink asked.

"Shade hadn't dropped the shadows when we left," Heat Wave replied, his voice surprisingly smooth and soft. "But we should be good to go now."

Colonel Cold had hers off before he even finished his sentence, and Caitlin had to stifle her gasp of surprise. Though she had only met her Earth-1 counterpart a few times, she would recognize Thea Queen anywhere. It was enough to make Caitlin glad that she had a mask concealing her reactions.

No matter who they are to you on Earth-1, you don't know them on Earth-2.

Hunter's words echoed inside her head, and while she didn't trust him, she took his warning to heart. She didn't know this Thea nor the man she worked with, and since Zoom employed them, assuming the worst was her best option. She couldn't think of her as Thea.

She's not Thea. Not your Thea.

"Well, now that our ride is here, I say we're good to go," Colonel Cold said. "Ready, Doc?"

Feeling the urge to assert control on the chaos of her life, Caitlin said, "It's Bellatrix."

Cold gave her a look somewhere between dispassionate amusement and a death stare, dispelling any chance of mistaking her for Earth-1 Thea Queen.

"Well, then, Bellatrix, hold on to something."

She felt Blink's hand on her arm, and the world dissolved around her. When it reformed a few moments later, it was too hot, and smoke clouded her vision. As her senses adjusted, she took in the wreckage around her. Walls of solid metal and concrete had chunks torn and beaten out, their rubble strewn across the floor, obscuring broken furniture and rubbish. Everything looked unnecessarily eerie in the dim emergency lighting.

It was overwhelming. She frozen until the cold metal of a very large gun nudged her shoulder.

"Move, Doc!" Heat Wave barked.

"Got a patient down the corridor, Trix!" Cold yelled from ahead.

As Caitlin moved forward, she realized that she didn't have a medical kit. She had expected to collect one or at least a few supplies before arriving.

There was nothing for it now. She stumbled into the next corridor, which was filled with bodies. The first two were beaten to a bloody pulp, their skulls smashed in along with the majority of their long bones. A third had burns so severe that it had shriveled to three-fourths its natural size. Three others had died from something that caused them to bleed from the eyes and ears. She checked the five possible survivors for a pulse and found nothing. Six lives gone in the span of a few feet.

"Over here, Trix!" Cold shouted.

She pushed ahead to where Heat Wave was clearing debris from a man trapped under part of a collapsed ceiling.

"Shit, it's Scrap," Heat Wave grunted.

There was real concern written across his face. They must know each other, and with a name like Scrap, the patient was likely metahuman.

Scrap seemed to be in his late teens, maybe his early twenties at the oldest. He had a mop of brown hair and kind-looking blue eyes, but though they were opened, he was listless and unfocused. He didn't respond when Heat Wave said his name, nor when Caitlin crouched over him and took his pulse.

"Scrap, can you hear me?" she asked. "My name is Bellatrix. I'm a doctor."

He didn't respond at all, and his breathing took on a strained wheeze. Seconds later, half his skin turned to steel, and a bubbling, hollow scream poured out of him, echoing before it even left his lips. She pulled back to observe and noted that it was unilateral over his entire right side.

"What are his powers?" she yelled to Heat Wave, who had his back turned to them.

He glowered at her over his shoulder before he said, "I'm here to make sure you don't get dead. Not to hold your hand."

"You know him," she pressed. "Or know of him at least."

"I got us covered," Cold said firmly. "Two minutes."

Heat Wave stowed his gun across his back like a sword, before he joined her at Scrap's side.

"He can transmute his flesh into some kind of invulnerable metal," he replied. "They developed special bullets for him, but he adapted to them... no idea how."

The steel fell away, leaving Scrap panting for breath and looking all too human. She quickly inspected him for wounds, but there wasn't a drop of blood on him. Severe bruising covered his right arm with deeply purple marks, so she checked his torso and found the same pattern along his right side.

"What the hell happened to him?" Heat Wave asked.

"Probably a crush injury with internal bleeding," she said.

Wishing she had more tools with her, she gently pressed against the edge of the wound, eliciting a small grunt from Scrap. The redness didn't blanch, but even as she looked at his skin, the bruises seemed to spread.

Where's a Sharpie when you need one?

Then suddenly, her right glove's index finger pulled back to reveal a slightly spongy surface. It was inky black.

She swiped her finger down the edge of his torso's bruise, but before she got even halfway down, she saw the purpling move beyond the mark. Hematomas often spread after a serious injury, sometimes for days, but they always followed gravity.

"Help me get him on his side," she said. "We need to get him on his right side."

"His injured side?" he repeated incredulously.

"Yes, now!"

They rolled him quickly, and Scrap whimpered in pain.

"T-t-tommy," Scrap muttered. "Stop... it's too much. It's too loud."

"This is hurting him!" Heat Wave protested.

She barely heard him. She was so intensely focused on the line she'd drawn that she shut out all other stimuli. She waited, and she hoped -

But then she saw the bruise grow even farther beyond the line. Whatever happened to Scrap was still going, and moving at an alarmingly rapid rate. She couldn't tell how bad the damage was without some kind of CT or tissue scan.

"Too loud! Too loud!" Scrap cried.

"Back on his back," she said to Heat Wave. "We need to get him to a medical facility. He needs a surgeon, and - "

"No can do, Trix," Cold interrupted. "It's either you here and now or nothing - we move on and leave him."

"Blink can bring him - "

"He goes nowhere until he's been cleared of Trojans," Heat Wave interrupted.

Trojans... she'd read about them while helping Blink Junior. It was an umbrella term used to describe implantable, attachable, or otherwise disguised technology that could have any number of ill intentions, from tracking a subject's location to somehow impacting their immediate environment, like disrupting transmissions or sabotage. The only way to ensure the patient was free of them was a full body scan.

"And how exactly do you expect me to do that?" she shot back.

"Have you even scanned him yet?" he snapped.

"With what?"

"Is this your first time in the suit?" he asked, his voice mocking.

"Yes," she replied.

His expression went from disbelief to confusion to eye-rolling disapproval, like he was too good to protect someone on her first mission.

"Left palm has a scanner," he said. "Forehead thermometer in the left middle finger. You can read blood pressure by wrapping either hand over the bicep. That can also read heart rate. Scalpels and other pointy things in the belt and boots."

"You seem to know a lot about someone else's suit."

"Nothing that anybody saved by Doctor Midnight couldn't tell you."

The marker finger had just sort of... happened. She flipped her left hand up and focused on the palm, and sure enough, it started to glow. She waved it over the edge of Scrap's bruise, and she nearly flinched when a stream of data appeared at the corner of her vision. The scan projected to the left of her eye openings.

Doing her best to ignore the countless questions born of her curiosity about Earth-2 technology, she closed her right eye to focus on the scan results. There was some kind of foreign substance moving inside his body. She rescanned his torso to make sure the reading was correct.

It was the same as the first: tiny foreign bodies were moving, just below the dermis, no, deeper, below the fascia.

"Damnit," she muttered. "Nanites."

The most advanced of the anti-meta poisoned utilized nanotechnology to attack internally, destroying minor blood vessels first, causing an array of symptoms from minor aches and pains to immobility and severe nerve pain, sometimes lasting hours before killing its victims. It was combined with a chemical cocktail that arrested most meta-healing powers, slowing them to near-human rates.

It had been created as an enhanced interrogation tactic, and more importantly, it had an antidote... no, an off-trigger.

"We need someone with sonic powers," she said. "They can initiate the nanite self-destruct sequence."

"Cold," he said with an oddly formal tone. "Any of the Sirens nearby?"

"Motley Siren's been screaming his head off for a doctor," she replied casually. "Doubt he'll be interested in helping."

"Got any better idea?" he sniped.

Yep, definitely siblings.

"Blink, go get Motley for us," Cold ordered. Then she turned to Heat Wave and added, "But to be clear, he's your problem now, Heat."

Unsure of how long she'd be waiting, Caitlin tested out the other tools the suit offered. Scrap's temperature was low, but his heart rate was elevated, which further confirmed her suspicion of nanites.

There was an explosion of sound, and Caitlin instinctively covered her patient. Heat Wave got to his feet and raised his weapon, standing between the doctor and the approaching danger.

"You left Lullaby on the floor! Alone!" someone yelled.

"Before the doctor can get to her, she needs help here," Heat Wave said. "Your help. Faster you get it done, the faster we get to Lullaby."

The new arrival made a series of frustrated sounds and half-insults before he finally grunted, "Fine, fine! What is it, Doc?"

"It's Bellatrix," she said, though for the life of her she didn't know why she had suddenly become so insistent on her alias. "I need you to emit a sonic pulse that is strong enough to interrupt nanite's communication, so it will trigger - "

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, the self-destruct sequence," Motley interrupted. "It's not like I've never blasted nanites before."

Caitlin took a moment to really look at Motley. His voice and mannerisms were familiar, but his garish meta-suit concealed his features. He wore a particolored suit of red and black, complete with matching cowl and jester's hat. Had it not been slightly charred and covered with blood splatter, he might've seemed comical.

She stood back and allowed him access to Scrap.

He extended a gloved hand over Scrap, who was getting worse. A visible power emanated from his palm, striking Scrap heard enough in the chest to make him buck involuntarily as he wheezed out a scream. Motley didn't even flinch. He continued the blast, moving his hand up and down at a steady pace over Scrap.

He drew his head back and yelled over Scrap's screams, "Done! Lullaby is this way!"

"One minute," she replied.

She grabbed her patient's wrist to check his heart rate, which was dangerously high and increasing every second. This wasn't just a physical reaction to the sonic pressure; it was probably a product of the nanites in his system. If it continued like this, he would need adenosine to stabilize his heart rate.

She ran her hand over the "belt" of her suit, though it was more of a thick liner over her midsection. It contained a number of small vials of adrenaline, a number of anti-seizure and pain meds, but no adenosine. She flipped the liner closed. She'd have to lower his heart rate some other way.

She crouched over Scrap and began to perform carotid sinus massage with her free hand while continuing to monitor him with the other.

It worked, his heart rate decreasing steadily, but once it dropped below one hundred and forty, Scrap transmuted into some kind of non-organic metal similar to steel. As he flickered rapidly between flesh and metal, it became impossible to compress his artery in the appropriate rhythm.

"Scrap, if you can hear me. I need you to control your power," she said. "Can you hear me? Scrap? Scrap!"

"Ah, come on!" Motley shouted. "Haven't we wasted enough time on this loser?"

Ignoring the angry Siren, she waved her left hand over Scrap's body and confirmed that the nanites were no longer moving on their own. Motley had successfully neutralized the nanotechnology, and it was up to Scrap's body to clear out the now-harmless contaminant.

"He's free of Trojans," she said. "Blink, he needs to be taken somewhere he can be monitored and given intravenous fluids."

"There's a medic tent outside," Blink replied. "I can get him there but won't promise any more than that."

Scrap's heart rate was down to one hundred and twenty. With the nanites disabled, it was a wait-and-monitor game now.

"Okay, take him," Caitlin said to Blink. Then she turned to Motley and said, "Lead the way to Lullaby."

"I decide where we go and when," Cold barked, the iciness in her voice perfectly illustrating her alias. "Blink is clear. Take Scrap and return once you pass him off. The rest of us are staying here."

Motley let out a hiss as Blink and Scrap vanished. He paced, stopping and starting erratically, as if he was about to explode, but he was clearly too afraid of Cold to defy her. So he huffed his breath in and out, vocalizing his frustrations without words, all while trying to look casual.

Cold's expression was difficult to read. Had she held them up just to toy with Motley? Or was she truly waiting on some kind of all-clear signal?

She's probably a sociopath. This is just her putting a subordinate in his place.

After several incredibly awkward minutes, Cold said, "Right, we're a go. I've got your six, Mot. Lead the way."

Motley Siren bolted for the next corridor with Cold on his heels. Heat Wave motioned for Caitlin to go, and once she started, he followed behind her, walking backwards with his gun raised.

They passed through a hallway riddled with blood and the dismembered bodies of at least four individuals. There were also victims burned beyond recognition; she didn't have the heart to count how many. The next chamber had bodies laid out as if in triage, some with makeshift dressings and a few restrained with rope or zip-ties. Doctor Midnight - one of them - must have been through here but hadn't gotten to treat everyone yet.

Caitlin doubted Cold (or Motley, for that matter) would allow deviations from their current course. All she could do right now was hope that Doctor Midnight would return. She'd find a way to double back to check on them.

To that end, she struggled to memorize their route through winding halls with poor lightning. Three rights, a left, another right...

"Step lightly!" Cold shouted. "Group up! Passing through a no-fly zone, Trix!"

All of a sudden, Heat Wave faced forward and jammed her up so she was inches behind Cold, forcing her to move at an uncomfortable pace.

He lowered his voice and explained, "For the newbie, no-fly zone means keep in line, no stopping, and keep your hands to yourself. Even if you see your sweet old gran, you don't stop. Got it?"

"Yeah," she grunted breathlessly.

The hallway was a tight squeeze. It had been barricaded and fortified before someone blasted through it. The rubble was filled with the wounded. Most were impaled on or crushed under debris. All of them were crying out in pain, most too far-gone to do anything other than beg, but as they passed more and more, a kind of death wail started, undercut by pleading murmurs. She choked down her horror as hot tears poured down her cheeks, welling up in odd places as they became trapped by her mask.

These people needed care; she might be able to save some of them if she acted quickly. Those she couldn't save... she could still help them. At the very least, she could manage their pain. Cold seemed more than content to leave these people to die. Caitlin screwed up her courage to speak. She couldn't abandon the injured, not like this.

She opened her mouth to ask - no, demand - that they help these people, but before she could speak, a rumbling tremor stole her voice and her footing. She stumbled into Cold, who grabbed her arm and dragged her ahead.

"Ceiling's giving out!" Cold shouted. "Move! Move! Move!"

She was right. The vibrations upset the already precarious supports and badly damaged walls, so Caitlin didn't have time to consider her options. She charged ahead full-force, and together, the four of them cleared to the next corridor moments before the ceiling came down behind them.

The stitch in her side forced her to stop to catch her breath, leaving her close enough to hear the pitching screams before absolute silence and stillness fell. She found it hard to breathe as the combination of panic and rage collected in her chest, leaving no room for air.

You saved Scrap.

She did. She diagnosed him and administered care so he would have a fighting chance, despite all the unknowns. She clung to that strand of hope, but in truth, it was a band-aid over a bullet wound. But it was all she had, so it had to be enough.

"Come on, Doc," Motley pleaded. "Lullaby is around the corner."

She moved to join him without hesitation, but distracted though she was, she still noticed Cold's sneer of disapproval. She flanked Motley without comment, and Heat Wave followed her lead. But Caitlin's instincts told her that this particular misstep wouldn't be forgotten.

Cold needs to believe she's calling the shots.

They turned the corner, and Motley swooped down to a young woman's side.

For the second time that night, Caitlin felt sucker punched. She was looking at the silently writhing form of Earth-2 Sara Lance, her mask discarded beside her and her suit in disarray. Motley had seemed familiar to her, but she never would've thought imagined Quentin Lance in Motley's outrageous outfit.

She crouched by Sara's side.

Don't think of her as Sara. She's not Sara.

"The bastards hit her with some kind of anti-sonic technology," Motley said. "It's like she can't speak, can't sing, can't make a damn sound."

Sara's - no, Lullaby's - heart rate and blood pressure were off the charts. She had minor abrasions and bruises on her arms and legs but no major injuries. Caitlin scanned her but found nothing.

"What are her abilities?" Caitlin asked.

"You serious?"

"To rule out all the specialized MTU weapons, I need a description of her abilities," she said with doctorly authority.

"There's a reason people call her Singsong Siren. Her voice... when she sings, her voice... it affects people."

"Affects them how?"

"I don't know how it works!" he snapped.

"Anything you can tell me," she insisted. "Anything."

"She can sing anyone - even the worst insomniacs - to sleep," he replied with reverence in his voice. "She can calm manics, set saints on a rage, induce euphoria in the most downtrodden of souls, a crushing depression in the most joyful, or childlike naivety in the most cynical. She sings, and it happens."

"Can she induce pain?" Caitlin asked.

"Yeah, anyone who tries to fight the emotions she sings to induce feels pain," he responded. "How exactly does this help my - uh - Lullaby?"

"There are prison cells that can rebound a meta's ability back on them," she said.

"Come on, Doc! When last I looked, she's not in a cell!"

Rather escalating with her own retort, she said, "I need you to hold her still. Can you do that?"

If Motley had any reservations about her, they didn't slow him down. He pinned Lullaby's torso, legs, and wrists, holding her steady while Caitlin scanned her head and assessed for trauma. Beyond superficial lacerations - likely incurred when she collapsed to the ground - there were no signs of injury or foreign bodies.

It was possible that she was experiencing somatosensory seizures; ictal pain could erupt anywhere in the body. But what could have triggered them? And why couldn't she make a sound?

Don't overcomplicate things.

If this were any other patient with apophenia, Caitlin would suspect nerve damage. So she ran her hand over Lullaby's neck, searching for abnormalities, but it was difficult to feel the anatomy through the thick gloves of her suit. What she really needed was contrast imaging, which wasn't possible in current circumstances. Her best guess would have to do.

Bilateral paralysis of the recurrent laryngeal nerves.

That made the most sense, given the symptoms, but there were no external indicators. It was an unlikely enough problem, but for it to happen to a meta whose power emanated form her singing voice...

It must be her worst nightmare.

Nightmare. That reminded her of a technology developed to treat REM-related sleeping disorders. For a handful of patients, it was marginally successful, but for others, it amplified them to a crippling level. The company responsible abandoned the clinical trials very early on, but it resurfaced about six months after the particle accelerator exploded, modified as an anti-metahuman tactical device. It didn't affect most metas, but those it did experienced prolonged bouts of relapsing and remitting sleep paralysis, complete with auditory, visual, and tactile hypnagogia. Some even experienced uncontrollable, rhythmic motion.

She said, "She needs to be moved. Is there a somewhere we can use? A cot or a desk or something?"

Motley nodded his head, yes, but when Caitlin went to help lift her, he said, "No, Doc, I got her."

He looked remarkably like his Earth-1 counterpart as he lifted his daughter in his arms.

He's not Detective Lance, she reminded herself. Who knows how many people he's killed today.

He carried her to an unused countertop across the room, about thirty feet away, and she followed. Cold and Heat Wave shadowed them silently.

Caitlin swept the surface clear so he could safely lay Lullaby out.

"Now what?" he asked. "Surgery?"

"No..." she replied. "You need to talk to her."

"What?"

"Talk to her," she insisted. "Hold her hand and talk to her the way you used to when she was little and would wake up in the middle of the night, scared from a bad dream."

"What the hell kind of a doctor are you?" Motley scowled, stepping between them as if to protect his daughter.

"The kind of doctor who knows all the weapons at the MTU's disposal," she replied fearlessly. "Even those that didn't make it to general use by law enforcement. Now that we've eliminated her exposure - "

He interrupted, "Exposure to what? Don't say that damn cell technology again! Because in case you didn't notice, Doc, I was standing right next to her, and I'm not writhing on the ground!"

"Only fifteen to twenty percent of those with an active meta-gene are affected," she countered. "That's why it never graduated to general use. That, and it requires persistent, direct exposure to remain effective."

Motley opened his mouth, his expression livid, but he hesitated. Then he sealed his lips and clenched his jaw, lending a sinister air to his garish costume.

"How sure are you, Doc?" he growled.

"As sure as I can be in the field," she replied. "It'll wear off within the hour, but if you don't see any change in half an hour, don't wait. Get her to a medical facility. I'm sure Cold will let you use Blink."

"Yeah, Trix," Cold interjected. "Nice to be remembered."

"And what about in the meantime?" Motley asked.

"Hold her hand," she replied. "Talking to her will ease her transition, but she'll still wake up scared and disoriented. She's free of Trojans and safe to move, so as soon as she's able, get her out of her. Not outside, not the medical tent - but off the premises. Now that we know she's susceptible, this place is too dangerous. Traps could be anywhere. No matter what, get her out of here. To the Comet, if you can."

"But if you're wrong - "

"Get her to the Comet," she pressed.

He oscillated between belligerence and resignation before he went to his daughter's side and took her hand.

Caitlin wanted to comfort him, but they had already left countless people to be crushed by a collapsing ceiling. There were others out there who needed a doctor. There was nothing more to do for Lullaby outside a medical facility. Motley wasn't Detective Lance, but it was clear he cared for his daughter. He wouldn't abandon her.

"Well, Trix, if you're done here, we got a situation," Cold said. "Blink can't get to us, so we have to go to her. Next stop: Robotics Lab."

"Robotics Lab?" Motley repeated. "You'd be nuts to go to that hell hole."

"Then call us Pecans, Mot, because we're going," Cold said. "Catch you on the flipside."

She brandished her gun before spinning on her heel and leading the way. This time, Caitlin didn't wait for Heat Wave to signal her to go; she fell in line and followed with him not far behind.

Caitlin wondered if Cold had extrasensory powers. She obviously received or obtained up-to-the-second intel, but she didn't have any communication devices on her. It wasn't the kind of thing she could casually ask a stranger, but her curiosity refused to abate, though perhaps she indulged it as a welcome distraction from the horror of her surroundings.

She thought she'd seen the worst of it on the way to Lullaby, but she was woefully wrong. There were dozens killed in what must've been a hailstorm of bullets, given the state of the remains and the walls. The next hallway was filled with soldiers who had been trampled to death despite their full body armor. There were bodies suffocated in a gas attack, frozen solid and frosted over, slowly dissolving in acid, burned and charred, torn in half, pulverized... she didn't stop to check for pulses.

This place is a tomb.

She told herself that they'd find a survivor around the next corner. And the next. And the next. Each time she was proven wrong, she became a little more lost, but she continued to hope... she didn't know how else to do this.

Just breathe.

"Button up!" Cold barked. "Tight edge ahead!"

Again, Heat Wave wedged her against Cold, but when they passed into the next corridor, their proximity failed to stop her from freezing. Her hands when to the nearest wall to help brace herself as she instinctively anchored her weight to the floor. When he met her resistance, he stepped back.

Heat Wave almost certainly could've forced her to move. She wanted to believe that he was a good man with compassion, but his restraint was more likely a byproduct of the dangers that lay before them.

The ceiling and walls had been blown away, comprising a tiny section of a crater that spanned five stories, rising straight up into the night sky and running all the way down to the catacomb-like basement, where bodies and rubble piled up like too many dishes in a sink.

The sole surviving wall had a thin stretch of solid floor wide enough to pass, but only barely so, and there was no railing or barrier between them and a gapping three-story fall.

"What's the matter, Trix?" Cold asked. "Not a fan of heights?"

While she never enjoyed elevated places, she'd never been afraid of them per se. She couldn't deny the vaguely ill feeling that gradually escalated to nausea. She attempted to respond to Cold, but when she looked up at her, words failed her.

Then she saw Cold's steely exterior falter, exhibiting a flicker of humanity that she hadn't expected.

"There has to be another way," Caitlin mumbled.

"Ordnance and Typhoon took out this whole area - and not on purpose," Cold replied. "There's no other way to the other side of the explosion. In case you forgot, that's where our ride is. So, unless you plan to stay in this building forever, you're gonna cross here. Got it?"

"Relax," Heat Wave chimed in. "We've got grappling hooks."

She was not at all reassured.

"Trix, either you move now, or Heat will carry you," Cold pressed.

The thought of being shouldered and dangling mid-air churned her stomach. So she wrenched her hands back to her side and took the smallest step forward. Her entire body felt like lead, and she wondered if being stranded in a strange universe by a madman had weakened her constitution. Or had she always been this way? It was difficult to remember.

"Good choice," Cold said. She sounded very, very far away. "Keep up."

It felt like hours to the other side, even though Cold set a relentless pace. She felt very little relief when they reached the next solid, walled-off room, so she was glad that they didn't slow down or stop.

After a few more winding halls, Cold stopped abruptly outside a room that ran the length of a very, very long corridor with floor-to-ceiling windows. Two men waited inside, flanking the first large glass door. One wore black and white leather augmented with a symbol of an upside-down horseshoe of navy blue. The other was in a suit of deep red with pale yellow undertones and dark green trim.

"You didn't mention Berserker was here," Heat Wave said to Cold as he raised his gun.

"Didn't know," she shot back. "Colt made the report."
The man in deep red stepped into the hall and took off, leaving horseshoe man - who Caitlin presumed was Colt - to usher them inside. She could only wonder after Heat Wave's distain for the mysterious and fast-moving Berserker.

Colt didn't speak as he led them inside to an area that had been converted into a makeshift emergency room with countertops, chairs, and tables serving as cots or instrument trays. One for each of the ten injured.

"Why are they restrained?" Caitlin asked.

"Protocol," Heat Wave responded stiffly.

"More like common sense," Cold said. "Restrain the unfriendlies."

"They're all unconscious," Caitlin pointed out.

"They all look unconscious," Cold corrected. "They stay restrained until I say otherwise. Got it, Trix?"

Caitlin nodded her head and set to work assessing her patients. Respiration, pulse, and blood pressure was within normal range for all for all of them. Four were covered in lacerations, abrasions, and gashes, with the worst of the latter hastily wrapped up to reduce bleeding. She would have to scan them to be sure, but she suspected broken bones.

These were the kinds of injuries she'd expect to see in people who were hit by the radiating blast of an explosion. Cold had mentioned there had been an unintended one not far from here.

She assessed the remaining six patients. They had all been knocked unconscious, almost certainly by the same person, given the nearly identical head trauma.

"Do we know what happened to these people?" Caitlin asked no one in particular.

"Colt happened to most of them," Cold said dispassionately. "He's good for captures, so if he's here, that can only mean one thing. These people have information we need."

"If that's true, why are they still here?" Caitlin asked. "Why risk leaving them in a building that could explode or collapse on them?"

"Because they haven't been cleared for transport," Cold replied. "No one goes anywhere until they're stable, clear of Trojans, and most importantly... until I say so."

Arguing wasn't going to get her anywhere, so Caitlin replied, "Fine. Once I've cleared them, I'll mark their foreheads with an X in permanent marker."

"Attagirl, Trix!" Cold said.

She confirmed that the patients were stable and free of any wounds that might render them unmovable. The only exception was one woman with a broken arm that needed to be set; the rest had uncomplicated rib fractures with minor head trauma. They would need to be monitored for the next few days, but they should all recover. Before she could mark them with X's, however, she needed to confirm they were free of Trojans.

And that was where she hit a snag.

All of them had a submuscular implant, though no two were in the same location. She guessed they were monitoring devices of some kind, almost certainly equipped with GPS. They were too deep for a superficial extraction; it would require a skilled surgeon.

Or a speedster who can phase through the body.

The queasiness that she had felt standing over the gapping crater resurged in full force. No, she wouldn't ask Zoom for help. There had to be another way.

With no acceptable recourse, she moved on. Nothing could be done for the ribs; even if she had compression belts, wrapping them could restrict respiration. That left the broken arm for her to set. It was all she could do right now, so she scanned the instrument trays for an appropriately sized splint and material for a sling.

She adjusted the patient for the procedure then took a steadying breath as she lined up the arm. This patient was in for a very rude awakening. With brutal precision, she set the arm, immediately moving the splint into place.

The patient woke with a scream, the restraints barely holding her back. Caitlin quickly secured the splint with what she hoped was medical tape before slipping the sling on, which was slightly complicated by the straps holding her in place. She then marked her forehead with a small but visible X.

"A heads up next time, Trix!" Cold shouted.

She hadn't even thought about warning her guards, but she made a mental note of it for the next time.

"You're okay," she said to the woman panting in pain. "You're going to be okay. I set your arm, and I can give you something for the pain if you'd like."

"Are they gone?" the woman said hoarsely.

It was only when she heard her voice that Caitlin realized she was treating none other than Earth-2 Eliza Harmon. In this universe, she had cropped dirty blond hair and lighter eyes, but her facial expressions, her voice... she reminded Caitlin too much of the friend she lost, all because she had been relentless in pursuing Velocity-9 as a "cure" for Jay.

Eliza's death wasn't your fault. Neither was Trajectory. She made her own choices.

It was difficult not to think of Eliza as another victim of Jay's - Hunter's - time on Earth-1, especially looking into the face of her recently injured doppelganger.

"Are they gone?" Eliza repeated.

"We're the only ones here. You're safe now," Caitlin said. Then she added, "What's your name?"

"Eliza," she replied.

"Eliza, I need help with the implants," she explained. "Yours and everyone else's. Can you help me with that?"

"All MTU personnel have a monitoring implant," she explained. "It's protocol."

"Implanted by a surgeon?"

"No... a surgical program," Eliza replied.

"I have to remove the implants before I can move anyone," she said. "And some of these people need a medical facility. Sooner rather than later."

Eliza's eye fluttered shut as her jaw clenched. Clearly, she didn't like what she was being asked.

"If the equipment isn't damaged, I can run the extraction program," Eliza mumbled. "But we'd have to go to the bio-med bay in the robotics labs - "

"We're in the robotics lab," Caitlin interjected.

Eliza's eyes went wide as her heart rate skyrocketed. She fought fruitlessly against the straps, flailing recklessly and helplessly.

"Eliza, stop! Stop! Tell me what's wrong!"

She stilled, but her heart continued to thump hard, as if she was fleeing a ravenous bear.

"Why are we in the Robotics Lab?" she asked.

"Not my decision," Caitlin replied. "The explosion wasn't far from here, and this area is large and stable."

"You... you swear?"

"I promise," Caitlin replied. "How far is the bio-med bay from here?"

"It's the next lab... they're connected with internal doors," Eliza said. "But... we can't just go in there... the guards, and the... the others..."

She didn't complete her thought, and her heart rate and respiration remained elevated, making Caitlin wonder what in the bio-med bay inspired such terror.

"Don't worry," she said in an attempt to reassure her. "I'll make sure it's safe first. For now, just try to relax."

Eliza looked far from convinced, but she nodded her head affirmatively before slumping back against the counter that served as her medical cot.

Caitlin turned to speak with Cold, who had already gravitated toward the patients and awaited her approach.

"You sure you wanna do this, Trix?" Cold asked. "Think we can trust her?"

"To save herself and her own people?" Caitlin countered.

Apparently, her rhetoric proved persuasive because Cold chuckled and brandished her gun, almost like she was toasting her good health.

"Heat!" she called. "Escort Trix here to the bio-med bay. Blink will bring the patients along once she and Colt get back."

"Got it," Heat Wave said as he waved Caitlin over.

They moved noiselessly through the lab toward the doors on the far side. It was filled will fascinating machines that constantly caught her eye. The majority of the technology in the lab was adaptive or assistive robotics for surgical procedures. It exhilarated her curiosity until she began to connect the dots between the mechanical equipment and the MTU's uses for it.

The doors into the bio-med bay were knocked off their hinges or smashed straight through with chunks of wall to match. Heat Wave led the way, stepping over the least-saved doorframe.

At first, there was nothing but untouched lab equipment, including several neuro-surgical assistive machines, but then the landscape changed.

It was like they stepped into hell.

The room was full of carbyne cells not unlike those in Zoom's mountain lair, though there were dogs, pigs, and even monkeys in these. All of the animals were dead, their lifeless eyes glazed over and opened in an accusatory stare. Various monitors read TERMINATION SEQUENCE COMPLETE.

They killed them all when they realized they were under attack.

Bodies littered the spaces between desks: charred, beaten, bloody, and broken. No pulses, cold to the touch... whatever happened here occurred hours ago. Heat Wave kept her moving, not giving her more than the time required to check for breathing and a heart beat, so they quickly made it to the center of the lab.

Had she thought they were in hell before? Well, she was wrong, because this - this was hell.

Animals were not the only subjects in this laboratory. The next cells - no, that was too humane a word, these were cages - contained people, all as dead as their animal counterparts. At least, she assumed as much, since their monitors likewise read TERMINATION SEQUENCE COMPLETED. Zoom's minions had smashed through the carbyne and covered the victims with sheets, lab coats, or anything they could find.

She asked Heat Wave, "Who were they?"

He shook his head, no, but the expression on his face gave a very different answer. He clenched his jaw, and suddenly, his eyes flared, appearing like tiny suns where his sockets should have been. He closed them, but the light radiated through his skin, which barely contained the glow.

She felt the temperature rise. Perhaps she imagined it... or maybe, in this universe, Heat Wave earned his moniker for something other than the heat gun he carried.

Caitlin wasn't sure if concern was warranted, but it didn't look as if he had it under control. In fact, he seemed like he was going to explode. She discreetly put some distance between them, hoping that if he needed help, he would ask for it.

Then it stopped as abruptly as it started.

"You know," he said gruffly, trying to act as if nothing had happened. "Check'em, though, just to be sure."

She didn't argue, but climbing into that first cage was worse than she imagined. It was too small to lie down in, and the carbyne walls were clear on all sides, leaving the subject without privacy, space, or dignity. The body inside was cold, and from the petechial hemorrhages in the eyes, she surmised that a gas displaced the oxygen in a confined space - no doubt the very cage in which she stood - caused suffocation. It was a horrible way to die, especially while on display.

She moved on to the next cage. And the next. And the next. When she found a vacant cell that had been busted open like the others, a thrill of relief and hope washed over her.

"Do you think an empty cell means a survivor?" Caitlin asked.

"Survivors?" Heat Wave repeated skeptically. "I'm all for wishful thinking, but... nobody survives a place like this."

She persisted in confirming the dead long after she lost count. She had to be certain that she hadn't left anyone behind.

She hesitated outside one cage that was bloodier than the other, worrying at what she might find. She uncovered the body and discovered a teenage boy, sixteen at the oldest. Unlike the others, he died from blunt force trauma to the head. She felt sick as her mind pieced the evidence together, forcing her to watch the events unfold as if they were happening before her.

The boy saw what was happening to the others in cages around him, and he felt the air thin. Pure panic drove him to trash at the walls, and the desperation to survive gave him strength enough to ram his own head against the carbyne with all his weight behind him over and over again, covering the walls with his blood, and after the final blow, his brain matter.

He must've been terrified.

She staggered away from the sight, her mind racing. She felt like she was suffocating, like she was jammed inside one of these cells, asphyxiating. She tumbled into the next row of horror and yanked off her cowl, desperate for air, but instead of a breath of fresh air, she inhaled the stench of institutionalized murder: decay, antiseptic, and the faintest hint of smoke.

Reeling from the choking scent, she almost didn't hear her name.

"Caitlin," a familiar voice cried. "Oh, my sweet Caitlin!"

Her eyes went to the speaker, a woman inside a cage yet still alive. The walls of her cell had been smashed in, but the survivor hadn't left.

Because she's frozen in place.

Caitlin couldn't believe it. She was staring at the face of Doctor Carla Tannhauser, her mother.

She's not Mom.

"Caitlin," she murmured. "They did it. They cured you. They promised me they would."

Her stomach clenched. Mom - no, Carla - thought she was her daughter, cured of whatever transformed Killer Frost into a heat-hungry ice queen. Caitlin couldn't let her think that; she needed to get her out of here. She had promised Frost to help Mom in this universe.

She's not Mom.

Caitlin couldn't bring herself to explain things to Carla, especially not when she got an unobstructed view. She was frozen from the waist down in a solid block of ice. Her lips were blue, and her teeth chattered as she shivered violently.

Before she could stop herself, she said, "What did they do to you, Mom?"

"It doesn't matter," she replied. "Sweetheart, he's alive. He's okay. They promised me."

"I'm going to get you out of here," Caitlin said. Then she yelled, "Heat Wave!"

She had enough presence of mind to drag her mask over her head before he arrived.

Carla started to ask to see her face again, and she kept asking as her voice faded.

"You called?" Heat Wave asked.

"Can you melt this ice?"

"Come on," he said, flashing a genuine smile. "What's my name?"

He waved for her to step aside. Then he aimed the heat gun at the block of ice, loosing a stream of fire that cut the chill in the air. Unfortunately, it barely made the ice sweat.

"What the hell?" Heat Wave grunted.

"He's alive... he's with..." Carla mumbled.

She fell silent, and Caitlin ran to her.

"Wait! Wait!" Caitlin yelled. She dropped her voice and pleaded in a whisper, "Mom, wait, please... stay with me."

She wasn't breathing, and her heart wasn't beating. Her body temperature didn't register on any of her instruments.

"We need to get her out of here," she said. "Melt this ice. Warm her up."

"Bellatrix, she's gone," Heat Wave said.

"She's not dead until she's warm and dead," Caitlin retorted.

"You know meta-biology doesn't always follow the rules!"

"She's not metahuman!" she countered, her voice much louder than she intended.

"She's right," someone said.

No, no, no... this isn't happening.

She turned to face Killer Frost, who seemed unmoved by her mother's demise, though there was a fury in her eyes that betrayed her anxiety.

"Frost, I can save her," Caitlin pleaded. "I just need you to get rid of this ice."

"The Colonel sent me to replace you. She's expecting you," Frost told Heat Wave. Then she turned to Caitlin, "And you... get out of my way."

Heat Wave left without another word, and Caitlin stepped out of the cage to give Frost room to work. She watched intently as her doppelganger focused all her energy on the ice that trapped her mother. Slowly but surely, it evaporated, defrosting the entire area and thawing Carla's flesh, restoring a rosy complexion to her skin.

Frost carried her out of the cell and laid her on the ground, stepping back to allow Caitlin to begin compressions.

After several fruitless minutes, however, a chilly hand came down over her shoulder.

"She's gone," Frost said.

"No, she's like you, she can live - "

"The MTU protocol for a siege is total termination," Frost interrupted dispassionately. "She would've survived the cold... but not the poison. She's gone."

It was probably a bad sign that her icy, emotionally imbalanced doppelganger was the one talking sense to her, but Caitlin didn't care. She didn't want to believe it.

You must. She's gone.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I thought - I thought I could save her."

"She was dead as soon as they took her," Frost said.

"She kept saying that he was here," Caitlin added, grasping at straws.

Frost dragged her to her feet, grappling with the collar of her suit.

"What else did she say?" Frost demanded, every feature of her face livid. "Tell me!"

"Just that he was safe, and... and that he was with the others."

"Think, Doc! Where is he? Did she say where he was?"

"No, only that he was here," Caitlin replied. "She wasn't making any sense. She thought I was you!"

Frost shoved her away in disappointment.

"Was she talking about Deathstorm?" Caitlin asked.

"I need to find him," was all Frost said.

"Listen, there's a woman who survived the explosion. She knows the equipment, and she's ambulatory. She with Cold. Maybe she can help."

Before she could finish, Frost was off, racing back the way she came, leaving Caitlin too many steps behind as she scrambled to catch up. She couldn't leave Eliza at Frost's mercy, not in her current state.

Then she felt a heavy weight drag her to one side, and she veered away from Frost's path, doing a complete one-eighty. Her mind... it didn't feel right.

Memories of doctors in white loomed over her, their merciless eyes observing her terror, her pain with cold-blooded indifference as they cut into her, as they barked another callous command. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think.

Caitlin... Caitlin...

No, these weren't her memories. She knew that voice. She'd heard it in her head before.

Caitlin always kind.

Images and feelings besieged her, too belligerent to ignore, too many to experience. Her head pounded with pressure, and her emotions pulled her in every direction. All she could understand were quick flashes, tiny moments of significance compressed to an unbearable degree.

The fear of being dragged through a portal without knowing what was o the other side. The euphoria of a new home, of no longer being alone. The sting of loss and the rage that followed. The wrath of retribution against the assailants. The shock of capture... and then nothing but the agony of being trapped and experimented on. The torment that came from knowing freedom was a dream that would never come true again.

Caitlin came back to her senses mid-vomit. She couldn't stop the retching, and she didn't want to. She needed it. She needed to purge all the poisons inside her. It felt like it would never be enough.

When it finally abated, she examined her surroundings. She must've wandered off when Grodd's thoughts overcame her because she didn't recognize where she was. There was an enormous carbyne cage set out like a fish tank in front of half a dozen desks.

Grodd must've pulled her here in a desperate call for help. That meant he was alive and nearby.

She raced to the edge of the fish tank, doing her best to keep her mind clear.

Grodd wasn't the only one in the fish tank, or the Intensive Care Unit, as the monitors called it. Two men were restrained on medical cots near the front. The first was called the Donor, and as far as she could tell, he was only heavily sedated. The second, Wild Card, had recently had both arms amputated, and from the looks of it, he was in dire need of post-operative care. He had bled through his bandages and had an elevated heat rate, likely because he was in pain.

Unlike the rest of the lab, this cell hadn't been broken into, so Caitlin had to set up an electrical current like the one she used in Zoom's lair to take out one of the carbyne panels. She busied herself with what was in front of her, removing the Donor's IV and giving him adrenaline to counter the effects of the sedatives. She administered pain meds to Wild Card before applying new compression bandages to prevent him from bleeding out.

Caitlin always kind.

She rounded on Grodd, who was at the back of the unit.

Caitlin... give final kindness to Grodd.

The great ape's body was unrestrained, but only because shackles were no longer necessary. His head was at an unnatural height, contained inside a clear dome-like bubble. As soon as she saw it, she felt her cervical spine crack and snap as the horrible whooshing and grinding of a medical saw dug into her flesh. The pain was followed by... nothing. No feeling, no sensation... her body was gone, and there was nothing but the abiding ache of loss.

"Hey, Doc? Doc!"

She gasped as she returned to her senses, Grodd's memory fresh in her mind and clear as if it were her own. The Donor had gotten his feet under himself and come to her aid. He was cradling her, as if he'd caught her when she fell... but she couldn't remember falling.

"You shouldn't be on your feet yet," she said to him. "You need some time before the sedatives wear off."

"You mean he does," the Donor replied, pointing back to his bed... where he still sat.

"Relax," the Donor said. "That adrenaline you gave me was just enough to spawn this copy."

"The Donor..." she said, realizing who he was. "You clone yourself."

"Don't call me that," he replied as he guided her back to her feet. "That's what they call me... using my copies for spare parts..."

Desperate for a happy memory, she dug in, and the moment Cisco named the Donor's Earth-1 counterpart came to the forefront.

"Multiplex," she blurted.

"Multiplex," he repeated. "I like it. You okay, Doc?"

"No," she replied. "I'm not."

Final kindness.

She wanted to tell Grodd that there was hope, that Totem could help him by bonding him with a familiar and accelerating his healing. But something told her that Totem's powers wouldn't work on Grodd... because he was an ape or from Earth-1, or maybe both.

"Poor bastard," Multiplex said.

"He wants me to... to... show him a final kindness," she said, unable to say what he really wanted.

"You know him?" Multiplex asked.

She nodded her head, yes.

"He wanted to be with others like him, so I helped send him to the gorilla sanctuary," she explained. "All he wanted was not to be alone anymore... and I'm the reason he's here."

"No one in this world is innocent," Multiplex said. "But that's no reason to take blame that isn't yours. The MTU did this. This is no more your fault than it is mine."

It was a kind thing to say, but it was based on ignorance. Grodd wouldn't have been on Earth-2 to become prey for the MTU if Caitlin hadn't helped trick him into that portal. She didn't have the energy to argue her guilt; she only wanted to press the issue to avoid the real conflict.

"I'll do it," Multiplex said.

"It should be me," she said.

"No, it shouldn't," he replied. "You remind me of my wife. She has a kind heart, and doing this... even for someone that she cares about, it would cripple her."

"And what about you?" she asked. "What about your heart?"

"My heart's only a few minutes old," he quipped. "It'll bounce back."

"Thank you," she said.

Then she turned to Grodd, unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just wanted you to have a home."

Words failed her. What could she say to comfort him?

Grodd found home.

She saw the image of a luscious jungle centered around a light-haired gorilla with silver eyes. She was beautiful and gentle and strong. In that moment, the only thing that Caitlin felt was persistent, unmovable, indestructible love.

Caitlin... always... kind...

"Doc? Doc!"

The voice was loud in her ear, shaking her away from the pleasant bubble that was fast growing dark. She looked at Grodd, hoping to speak with him again, but it was too late. Multiplex had administered a fatal dose of sedatives.

Trying to keep herself together, she scanned Wild Card and found no sign of Trojans. Multiplex's clone was free, too, but the Prime wasn't.

"We need to get him to the others," Caitlin said. "Hopefully they can remove his Trojans with the technology - "

She stopped dead in her tracks when she remembered what she had been doing before Grodd drew her away. She had been following Frost to protect an unsuspecting Eliza Harmon from her wrath. How long had she left them alone? What had happened to Eliza?

Was Ronnie alive?

Even if he was alive, he wasn't her Ronnie. He was Deathstorm.

"Found her!" someone shouted. "You, Bellatrix!"

She turned to see horseshoe man - no, Colt - a few desks away.

"We need another doctor," he announced.

"We need help," she replied. "Two are ready for transport. The other - "

"I'll handle them," Colt interrupted. "They need you. Now."

"We'll be fine," Multiplex added. "Thanks to you, Bellatrix."

She went to Colt, who pointed toward a bustling intersection not far from where they stood. She could see at least two Doctor Midnights at work. What on earth did they need a third doctor for?

There didn't seem to be a point in asking Colt, so she walked as swiftly as she could. Cold swooped in before she reached the throng of activity.

"I was hijacked by a telepathic gorilla," Caitlin said preemptively. "There was nothing anyone could've done to stop it, least of all me."

"You sure you're not telepathic, Trix?" Cold asked, giving her a cocky smile. "Though I think it's important that nobody hears about your... unauthorized excursion. Things might get dicey. My employer isn't the forgiving type."

"My lips are sealed," she promised.

"Good," Cold said. "Don't get comfortable, Trix. I don't think we'll be here for long."

With that, Caitlin passed into the buzzing hive of people, and she saw what had attracted so much attention.

Children.

There were dozens of them, ages ranging four to twelve. There were even infants and toddlers. One Doctor Midnight was working with Eliza, who was mercifully unharmed (though handcuffed), on removing Trojans from the kids. Before she knew it, they had waved her over and walked her through the process. She needed to scan to locate the implant and then select the corresponding program to extract it.

She felt... thin. Wrung out. Torn apart. It wasn't the ideal the time to perform detail-oriented tasks. Her movements were sluggish at best, and her bedside manner was abysmal.

She only managed to help three kids before an alarm sounded. She had thought this place had been buzzing with activity before, but the speed amplified. With all the meta-powers in proximity, it was impossible to be certain what was happening. She caught sight of Blink teleporting in and out over and over again, transporting no fewer than five people at a time.

She also saw Cold barreling towards her, her gun at the ready, before Frost appeared out of nowhere.

"Remember your promise to me, Caitlin," Frost said, her voice stern.

Before she could point out that their - her - mother hadn't survived, a two-year-old boy was pressed into her arms. He had the most enormous blue eyes she'd ever seen and a tuft of dark brown hair that made him the spitting image of someone she'd never be able to forget.

"Ronnie," she whispered.

"RJ," Frost corrected.

"He's beautiful," she said.

She meant it. He was probably the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She was so focused on him that she barely registered Cold's barking orders at her.

"Did you hear me, Trix?" she said loudly. "You've been recalled. Now."

It was only then that she realized Frost had left her with RJ and was nowhere in sight, though she could only see a few yards in all this chaos.

"What about you? And Heat Wave? And Frost?"

"Sweet of you to ask," Cold said sarcastically. "But Heat and Cold never run from a fight. I'm not Frost's keeper. You and the kid are next up with Blink."

"Fight?" she asked. "What fight? I thought the fighting was over."

"'Was' being the operative word," Cold replied. "Reinforcements from a secondary site. Nothing we can't handle. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about."

She winked before turning on her heel, and in the next instant, a mob of people surrounded her and RJ. Then Blink appeared, and the world around her vanished only to reappear as the night sky.

Blink didn't stay to chat. Caitlin was left standing on the edge overlooking the crater they had just escaped. She found herself the center of a huddle of children, surrounded by no fewer than three Multiplexes. There were others she didn't recognize, some shepherding the others, but most collected at the edge to watch.

She clutched RJ closer as the earth shook violently. All eyes fell on the wrecked building below them as more and more gathered around. It was nearly impossible to look away, especially when an alarm screeched, echoing into the mountains.

That's when the blue lightning flickered. It started as a few streaks, but it soon filled the entire valley, a constantly changing path of blue then white then black. The dawn came, the gentle morning sun easing its way into the picture of smoke and flashes of light. It was hard to tell from her vantage point, but it seemed like Zoom was evacuating people to a second location.

Caitlin stifled a sob as RJ's tiny hands explored her mask. The alarm became louder and louder, rising with the morning sun, and she watched without blinking. The blue lightning never stopped.


End of Chapter Notes


Warning: The end of chapter notes contain minor spoilers for the chapter. Read at your own risk.

Chapter notes: The title of this chapter, The Heavenly Shepherd, comes from the Ancient Babylonian name for the Orion constellation.

Tons of characters appear in this chapter. A quick rundown is provided below:
- Totem (Original Character) was absent because she had a number of missions and a special assignment, the outcome of which will be felt in future chapters.
- Blink is Earth-2 Shawna Baez, called Peek-a-boo on Earth-1 and Leshawn Baez in the comics. She is Blink Junior's mother, and she can teleport.
- Killer Frost joined the mission after Zoom goaded her into it by informing her that the MTU had her mother. He roped her in because, while there are a number of non-metahuman powered people in Zoom's ranks, Frost is the most infamous, and everyone assumes that she's meta. That made her the perfect offense against the MTU's secret weapon, Special Agent Cameron Chase.
- Special Agent Cameron Chase is a character from various D.C. comics, including her own comic series in the late nineties where she worked alongside various heroes, including Batman, while in the employ of the DEO. (Chase, the graphic novel created from the comic series, is an excellent story for anyone interested.) Obviously, the Earth-2 Cameron Chase is adapted from the Chase series, but they have similar origin stories and the same powers. In this universe, she became the MTU's secret weapon, and her background will come up in later chapters.
- Black Siren is Earth-2 Laurel Lance, just like on the show.
- Motley Siren also known as called Pied Piper, is Earth-2 Quentin Lance. He has sonic abilities similar to Earth-1 Pied Piper, though his are meta-abilities.
- Singsong Siren, usually called Lullaby, is Earth-2 Sara Lance. She can "induce" specific emotions by singing, and anyone who attempts resistance experiences agonizing pain for their trouble.
- Void Siren, aka Silencer, is Earth-2 Dinah Lance. She's only mentioned in passing in this chapter as one of the metas that Chase captured for the MTU. Her meta-abilities are also sonic in nature, and they may come up in later chapters.
- Colonel Cold is Earth-2 Thea Queen-Merlyn. She's armed with the infamous Cold Gun associated with Earth-1 Captain Cold, but she also has meta-abilities that are cultivated and augmented by cyborg enhancements designed by Pyranis. Her partner in crime is Heat Wave.
- Heat Wave is Earth-2 Tommy Merlyn, and his weapon is the same as Earth-1 Mick Rory's Heat Gun. He also has an extremely powerful solar-flare-like meta-power that he has difficulty controlling during strong emotions. Like his partner in crime, Colonel Cold, he has cyborg enhancements designed by Pyranis to facility and control his abilities.
- Pyranis is Earth-2 Malcolm Merlyn, who attained quasi-mystical powers while training with the League of Assassins.
- Scrap is Earth-2 Griffin Gray, though his abilities are closer to Earth-1's Tony Woodward aka Girder.
- Berserker, Earth-2 Roy Harper, isn't metahuman; instead, he relies on an artificial serum that enhances his physical strength.
- Colt (Original Character) owes his life to Blacksmith, one of Zoom's main lieutenants. His story will come up in later chapters.
- Shade is based off of the Golden-Age comic character (when Jay Garrick was the Flash). He has the ability to control shadows.
- Doctor Midnight was a name taken by three distinct characters in the comics (sometimes spelled Doctor Mid-Nite), though there was never more than one at the same time. On Earth-2, there are a number of metahuman-medics that share the mantle, though nobody knows how many, save perhaps Zoom and Totem.
- Deathbolt is Earth-2 Jake Simmons, and just like his Earth-1 counterpart, he can absorb electricity and fire plasma beams from his eyes.
- Ordnance is Earth-2 Bette Sans Souci who has the same powers as her Earth-1 counterpart, who Cisco named Plastique.
- Typhoon is Earth-2 Clyde Martin, seeking his missing brother, Zephyr, Earth-2 Mark Martin. Like on Earth-1, the Martin brothers have weather-related powers.
- Gigawatt is Earth-2 Helena Bertinelli (aka the Huntress on Earth-1), who has electrical powers. She's only mentioned in passing.
- Count Vertigo is based off the character in the comic book (aka Werner Vertigo), who had powers of disorientation, among other things. (This is in contrast to the TV version of his Earth-1 counterpart, who was nicknamed the Count and sold a drug named Vertigo.)

Author's note: Apologies for the delay in getting this chapter out. It's a bit longer than I intended (even after I cut a great deal from it), and there's every possibility I will update and change it. There is also a limited amount of Hunter/Caitlin interaction, but it was unfortunately necessary at this part of the narrative. All I can do is promise that the next chapter will definitely make up for it, though I don't have an ETA on when that next chapter will be complete.

I hope you enjoy this installment and are looking forward to the next one!