Two more days until The Flash! And an extra-long chapter in preemptive celebration.
Enjoy!
A new day, a new walk. Before the accident, Iris had never gone to the beach much. It must have been nice when it was still intact.
She'd set off almost as soon as the sun was up, anxious about Caitlin and anxious about Eddie and anxious about everything nowadays. Luckily, her panicked text to Caitlin had gone answered, albeit shortly: fine, staying at star.
At least one of her anxieties was quelled.
And, just her luck, a new one popped up almost immediately.
Halfway down the beach, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out. The screen read Linda Park.
"Linda," she said, putting the phone to her ear. "Hi."
"Hey, Iris," came Linda's voice. "Are you doing okay? I haven't heard from you in a while."
"Yeah, yeah," Iris said, but she caught herself in the lie as soon as it came out of her mouth. "Well, no," she backtracked. "Things have been crazy. You know. With the wave, and…everything."
"I figured," Linda said softly. Had she heard about Barry? Or was she as much in the dark as anyone else? "We're missing you at work. I figured you needed some time, but Larkin is kind of pushing for you to come back."
"Oh," Iris said. In truth, she'd gotten the voicemails from work, the hurried trying-to-be-compassionate-but-actually-very-impatient messages. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize to me," Linda said. "If it were my decision, I'd give everyone the week off. Even though that would be impractical...given that we are a news station." She cleared her throat. "Listen, they want you to write something. You don't even have to come into work to do it. Just email it. Whatever."
Iris' throat tightened. "What do they want me to write about?"
"You're not gonna like it," Linda said. "I know you don't like to be considered the 'Flash girl,' but..."
"They want me to write about the Flash."
"You always have the inside scoop," Linda said. "They want to find out what happened to him. Where he is. Larkin thought you would be a good candidate for a little piece about him. Maybe you, out of any of us, could dig something up."
"Right."
"If not," Linda continued slowly, "they want some kind of memoriam."
Iris paused. "What, like an obituary for a superhero?"
"Some retrospective piece looking back on everything he's done for the city. I know it's not the ideal article, but..."
"We don't even know that he's dead," Iris said. "We don't know anything."
"I know, I know," said Linda. "Don't shoot the messenger. Just wanted to give you a heads up." A pause. "Maybe writing something will be good for you. Therapeutic."
Somehow Iris doubted that, but she took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair. "Maybe. Sorry for snapping at you, Linda. I'll think about the article. Thanks for calling."
"Don't worry about it. Take care of yourself, okay? Do what you need to do."
"Great." For a moment, Iris wanted to stay on the line, to confess to Linda everything that was going on-had Linda known about Barry's identity as well? Did it even matter anymore? Then, as she'd learned to do automatically, she hung up the phone.
Stuffing the phone back in her pocket, she continued along the beach. While there were a few footprints here and there from search and rescue teams, she figured that most of the imprints in the sand had been made by her the past few days. At least she was getting her exercise, she thought hotly, from wandering up and down the long expanse.
The water whispered to her right as she walked, and she thought back to what Eddie had said the night before. What are you looking for? A body? With each step, she considered this more. If she saw a human form lying there, what would she do? If it was wearing a maroon, leather suit, what would she do?
At the very least, she would have the evidence to write Larkin's damn article.
These thoughts were too much for her, and, besides, she didn't want to think of anything having to do with Eddie. When she did, and when she consistently ignored his texts, she felt the wave of guilt rising up inside of her again.
Better to keep walking the beach, expecting to find nothing and hoping to find everything. Or the other way around—she was undecided.
Around noon, she stopped to take a break. There was an unlimited selection of driftwood on which to sit now, and she chose a thick trunk which looked as though it had been ripped out near the park. Today she'd actually remembered to bring lunch, and despite not being hungry, she forced herself to unzip her purse and pull out the sad-looking sandwich. Whole-wheat bread, with all of the seeds. She'd hated it as a kid, but it was all she could find at her dad's house. He'd never gone for cheap, processed Wonder Bread like she'd always hoped for. When she was younger she would spend ten minutes picking out all of the seeds from the bread-which she did again now, mindlessly.
She'd just finished piling up the seeds and was about to take her first bite when something on the edge of the water caught her eye. She blinked, thinking it to be a trick of the weather, a trick of the rain. But, no, something was there, five feet above the ground, shimmering. If Iris hadn't known better, she might have dismissed it as an optical illusion. But she knew better now. She'd seen her best friend move faster than her mind could process. She'd seen a tidal wave as tall as a skyscraper emerge from nowhere. She'd seen impossible things, and she saw this anomaly now.
Slowly she set down her sandwich and moved toward the glimmering patch of nothingness. From a distance, it almost looked as though the air itself had substance, as if it was something that could be caught and suspended. It didn't shine, exactly, but reflected-reflected in upon itself, reflected the afterimage of the last wave. As Iris got closer to it, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, as if by static shock. One step closer, and she saw something else glittering in the patch of air: a few raindrops, suspended, floating.
Had she missed this on all of her walks? The suspended space was certainly small enough that she might not have noticed it in passing, and, besides, it wasn't the kind of thing a person would be actively looking for. Even from a few feet away, she couldn't name it, couldn't even properly describe it, but from the way it sent a thrill of discovery through her, she knew it had to be important.
She abandoned her sandwich on the fallen tree. Her feet were already carrying her to STAR.
Caitlin winced as she shrugged up the sleeve of her sweater. She'd done the best she could to examine her own arm, but it was a lot harder diagnosing injuries when it was yourself who was injured. From what she could tell, no major damage had been done by the ice projectile-other than a fist-sized bruise along her collarbone-and even the slight injury would heal relatively quickly. Still, it was an inconvenience while she was trying to work. While nobody liked physical pain, she found it particularly annoying; it distracted her, kept her from the things she needed to do.
She was used to patching up Barry, which was also a distraction, but usually a more temporary one.
Temporary-more pain twinged in her chest at that word.
She clicked through a few more files on the computer and dragged them to the folder she'd begun setting up. A way of organizing. Cisco had been fine with keeping things in order, but Caitlin needed it all in one place. One file. One reference point. Maybe if it was all in the same place it would create enough force to bring Mardon down. Satellite reports. Tracking programs. Schematics for other tech that Caitlin would have to spend hours sifting through. Some of it had to be useful. She was convinced.
Just as she was wincing again at another movement, recoiling in her chair at the pain, she heard footsteps in the hall. Instantly she froze, her heartbeat accelerating in opposition. Then she leapt from her chair, grabbed at the nearest blunt object-a keyboard-and stood at the ready.
When Iris came around the corner, Caitlin practically melted in relief. The keyboard sank to her side, and she let it hang there lamely.
"Caitlin?" Iris said, evidently puzzled by the scene before her. "Were you...?"
"Sorry, I wasn't expecting visitors," Caitlin said, putting the keyboard back in its place sheepishly. "You never know who's going to walk through that door, really. We should probably get better security."
"All the more reason why you shouldn't be here alone," Iris said, frowning. "What are you doing here? And...oh my God, are you bleeding?"
Caitlin's hand went to her forehead, where her skin had been split open from colliding with the concrete floor of the warehouse. She'd put a makeshift bandage over it, but she hadn't really expected visitors. There was still dried blood caked down one side of her face, and he sported a nasty split lip to boot.
Raising her eyebrows, she said, "Not anymore."
"God, what happened to you?" Iris said, striding around the table to take one of the chairs beside Caitlin. She leaned forward with horror, taking in the state of Caitlin's face. "Is that a black eye?"
Oh, yeah. She'd forgotten about that one.
Heat rose to her cheeks, and she turned away. "I'm fine. You know, when Barry comes back with a black eye, nobody even blinks at him."
"Because he's a superhero," Iris said. "And he has super-healing. Cait, what happened?"
"Nothing," Caitlin said. But as she swiveled her chair away from Iris, she paused. Again, she questioned the validity of keeping Iris in the dark. Iris was reasonably the only person she had left in this messed-up world, but still the knee-jerk reaction to lie was there. The nature of the business, all of them had tried to convince themselves.
"Actually, I have a bit of a headache. And obviously I'm not in the best shape. But I've got it under control, I promise."
"Not that I don't believe you, but..." The but was punctuated by Iris' deepening frown. "This doesn't look like 'under control' to me. Were you attacked?"
"No," Caitlin said. "There's been no sign of Wells, or anyone else..."
"You went after Mardon," Iris said, the realization dawning on her as she looked at the computer screens. Caitlin guiltily closed out of one of her tabs, but it was too late. "You confronted him, didn't you?"
"I just wanted to help," Caitlin insisted. "I thought with Cisco's technology, with all of these programs we have at our disposal, I would be able to actually do something useful for a change."
"You do useful things all the time," Iris said, "but that doesn't mean you should go out and do them alone. He could've killed you!"
"Yes, I know." Caitlin rubbed at her forehead, winced at the spike of pain. "Believe me, I know that better than anyone."
"Obviously not," Iris snapped. "Why didn't you contact me? Let me know what you were doing?"
"Because I needed to do this!" Caitlin said, standing. "I'm so sick of sitting around here doing nothing while Mardon and Wells are still out there, while Cisco and Barry are dead, while Joe is missing..."
"Getting yourself killed isn't going to bring Cisco and Barry back," Iris said quietly. "And neither is defeating Mardon and Wells. I don't think they would want you running off and putting yourself in danger. I know I don't."
Caitlin sniffed and took a few more steps, running shaky hands across her face as she tried to collect herself. Behind her, Iris waited, patient, for her to find her composure again. Finally Caitlin turned.
"I'm not sure what else to do," she admitted. "All I know how to do is keep moving forward. It's what I've been doing for a year now."
"And that's fine," Iris said. "But please let me help. You're not the only one grieving. You're not the only one feeling useless."
Her eyes shone, and Caitlin took that as a sign to return to her chair, to sit opposite the other woman once more. "Your dad was there. With Mardon. He was alive."
Iris' breath visibly hitched, and it was a moment before she could speak again. "You did find him."
Caitlin nodded. "I'm working on relocating them. I'm doubtful Mardon will stay in the same spot, now that he's been discovered. Even if my tech failed against him, I don't think he'll want to take the risk."
"So what are you doing now?" Iris asked. "You're going after him again, I assume."
Caitlin sighed and massaged her temples. "My idea was to develop a larger version of the Wizard Wand." At Iris' puzzled look, she explained, "A device that Cisco created in order to sap away Mardon's powers. They had one in the police station the first time Mardon attacked, but there's no way I would be able to get it from the police now."
"I can," Iris said suddenly. "They know me. I can ask them for it."
As much as she appreciated the enthusiasm, Caitlin shook her head. "Mardon has gotten more powerful, and he overloaded the wand that I took. I doubt the original would be able to contain him for long. But I think I can use some of Cisco's notes to adapt the technology, make it work faster and more efficiently. And on a larger scale. Building this new tech is just...time consuming. I'm not nearly as good with technology as Cisco."
"Let me help," Iris said. When Caitlin raised an eyebrow, she pushed further. "I grew up around Barry Allen, science nerd extraordinaire. I may not have the same science background, but I would help Barry build things when we were in school. His science projects." She paused, swallowing. "Besides, two sets of eyes are always better than one. I need this, too-I need to get my dad back."
Caitlin softened, looked at Iris' stress-worn face. It looked as though she'd come straight from the beach again, straight from more hours of wandering back and forth-a physical embodiment of what Caitlin's mind had been doing for the past three days. She knew what Barry would say: don't put Iris in danger. Don't get her involved in this.
But Barry wasn't there. And that was exactly the point. Iris' earnestness, her determination, emanated in waves from her sleep-deprived eyes, and at once the choice seemed not only obvious, but necessary.
"Okay, we'll need some supplies from Cisco's lab," she said. Iris' eyes lit up at the realization of Caitlin's words, and Caitlin's heart warmed. "And lots of coffee."
You know the drill-I say thanks for reading and then implore you to leave a review. You guys are rad.
Till next time,
Penn