Hello everyone! Welcome to my first story outside the Harry Potter fandom! It covers seasons 1-2 of The Flash, as well as parts of other Arrowverse shows. Many characters that appear are based in some form from DC Comics canon, the protagonist being an example. I do not own these elements, except for the direction the narrative takes.
Comments are welcome!
01 - A Lot Happened That Night
When she was younger, Karen Starr used to think the days leading up to the Christmas holidays were a period of peace. Nothing whatsoever tended to happen during those days; in fact, it got so boring sometimes that Karen played the nearest CD at hand to its loudest. And still, the cops never came. The neighbors didn't call to complain.
She hated it—the silence, that was. Passionately. It always felt like something else—something bad—was biding its time because of it.
So when HR asked during her job interview if she wassure she wanted to work at Central City's Police Department with the possibility of missing many holiday-related leaves—not to mention dealing with ill-tempered cops, nasty criminals, and the (apparent and unfortunate) mandatory experience of getting shot at least once—she didn't hesitate to say yes.
Her opinion hardly changed in face of the station's collective nervous breakdown this time of the year. The snappy comebacks had already dwindled to indistinct grunts anyway. Furthermore, it was fortunate she had three years of experience, or else all she would've put on her reports were tallies with matching descriptions—and she doubted writing insomnia with a pinch of coffee withdrawal would earn her any favors right now.
Karen wasn't surprised nearly everyone she'd come into contact was agitated. The senior officers' Christmas vacations had been cut off short a day prior when it became obvious the activation of S.T.A.R. Labs' particle accelerator had grown out of hand—the mob that had slowly migrated from that corner of the city to the CCPD's front doors attested to that.
Everyone, from Captain Singh to the janitors, struggled to get into the building because if it wasn't the reporters that jumped on them like the goddamn Spanish Inquisition, it was the environmental organizations that guilted them into taking responsibility of the accelerator's presumed damage (even when it had yet to be activated). Why none of them thought of making camp outside the mayor's office was the question, but Karen usually made herself scarce when the mob made its appearance.
The thing is, it hadn't occurred to her they would change tactics the very same day of the event, not after months of repetitive infractions. Their behavior up to this day was mostly routine in her eyes. Imagine her surprise when arriving five minutes before the beginning of her shift, she found a very angry group of people waving these huge signs over their heads as they shouted profanities at the top of the building.
As if the people inside could hear them. Or perhaps they could, with how loud they were.
By the time she finally got to her floor, she was ten minutes late. Worse, Kristen informed her on the way out that coffee had run out by noon. One of the newbies had forgotten to make the trip and decided to leave the burden to a different intern. The intern never received the memo, so it was Karen, as the now head receptionist, who had to make the trip.
And she did it. On high heels.
She didn't complain. Not really. Yes, it bothered her that she was given someone else's duty, but she was aware of the importance of coffee in the police station. Even if it was an awful brand that they consumed, she'd noticed the placebo effect it had on the veteran officers some time ago. It was the one thing keeping everyone from snapping at each other.
Oh, and the Mardon brothers had returned. As had Barry Allen. Barely ten minutes had passed since she received the gossip when Karen decided something wrong was afoot. Kismet, in simpler terms. Karma did not seem to apply to the situation.
She reconsidered the notion when Allen strode into the reception behind the new hire Detective Thawne, his face almost as dark as her blazer. Next to him, Iris West was visibly holding back her laughter.
All her least favorite people concentrated in one place. It was karma. Definitely.
Karen left briefly to collect Singh's reports. By the time she returned, she found Barry sitting on her chair, glaring at Eddie Thawne as he wrote his arrest report. Iris was nowhere in sight, thank Rao.
It didn't mean she wasn't angry. Barry alone usually infuriated her.
"What are you doing there?"
He looked up, frowning. The flush ("adrenaline rush") had faded from his face but a bruise the size of her fist covered his cheek. Momentarily sympathetic (it must hurt), she placed the papers under her keyboard (so they don't fall, we must not have a repeat of that) before hauling the emergency kit under her desk with her heel.
"'Hi, Barry, it's nice to see you—it was the longest three days without you,'" he said mockingly. "'Wow, Barry, what happened to your face?' I can feel the love."
"I considered laughing, but I think you've been embarrassed enough for one night."
He scowled, eyes drifting to her feet.
"I'm pretty sure the emergency kit isn't supposed to be down there."
Karen raised a challenging eyebrow. "Well, I can go look for the one in the emergency room—" She began to push the white kit under her desk.
Barry, who knew as well as her that Dr. Nash was on her coffee break, said hastily, "That's fine, this is fine!"
While she wet a cotton ball with an antiseptic (there was a cut near his nose), Barry continued to stare over her shoulder at Thawne. Then, with all the gentleness she could manage, she pressed it to his cheek. Barry hissed, leaning away from her touch, but Karen simply seized the back of his blazer and held him in place. "Don't be a girl. What happened? I thought you were going to S.T.A.R. Labs with West's daughter."
"I was," he sighed dramatically, "but this kid tried to steal Iris' laptop —"
"Say no more." It was infamously known in the station that Barry would do anything for Joe West's daughter. With the trouble the girl got into willingly, Karen didn't dispute Detective West's desire to place an officer as her 24/7 bodyguard at all. It just happened to be that Allen wanted the post badly. "You know, I've been thinking about going to that medical course. The one that's being offered next week. Better learn how to treat broken bones for future reference."
"Haha," said Barry. "You done?"
She gave him a saccharine smile. "You should come with me. At the rate you're going, I've got no doubt you'll end up with a broken arm." Karen slapped his cheek gently; Barry shot up with a yelp. "Or leg. I'm not picky."
That was the highlight of her night, sadly. There was a lull in the station after that: Detectives West and Chyre had been gone for hours and probably wouldn't return after midnight; Captain Singh had left early for his appointment with the Mayor regarding the aftermath of Starling's Undertaking reaching the outskirts of Central City; Allen was (probably, undoubtedly) sulking at his lab; Thawne, from what she could see from her spot, was playing Solitaire at his computer; and the rest was either doing crowd control or at the cafeteria.
Dull. She was tempted to open a window tab and continue where she left off with Doctor Who. The new series, not the old one. She'd finished the first season of the revival and was eager to continue with the second, though she was hesitant as well. The change of leads had jarred her in that Christmas Special, leaving an uncomfortable taste in her mouth. It wasn't that she had anything against Tennant—she'd loved him in Broadchurch—but the fact that the writers had so easily discarded Christopher Eccleston—phenomenal, in her opinion—brought up old anxieties.
The thought alone made her jittery. So much that she turned to Kristen—her most reliable intern— and told her abruptly, "Could you watch the front for a while? I've got to go to the restroom." Then she gestured at her legs, and Kristen smiled in sympathy.
There were many rooms she could look into, but Karen simply went straight to the fourth floor, where the one room that had so far managed to remain out of everyone's eye was. Coincidentally, it happened to be above Allen's lab and had a direct view of S.T.A.R. Labs' Particle Accelerator.
Even though there was a sun tunnel, she couldn't see Barry. Either he'd left or he was near the windows, which suited her just fine. It wouldn't do if he suddenly looked up to see her dangling dangerously from the window, or worse, up her skirt; they had enough reasons to fuel their animosity.
It was a good thing Karen had done this so many times before. It started to rain exactly at the time she'd stretched all over the windowsill. A light shower, but still. Better be careful.
It took one long look at S.T.A.R. Labs for Karen to finally calm down. Proud and bright in the distance, the building was alike to a princess' castle. A space princess', for sure.
What was it that made it special? Certainly not the architecture. It looked like a sports stadium with a star glued on its side alongside its name. The lights were part of the show, the building has been dark ever since she could remember.
One of the few things she could remember at all.
There wasn't much that Karen was sure of most of the time. Moving from city to city at a very young age ensured that she didn't have that much to care about or long for. But by chance of fate, S.T.A.R Labs had traveled with her from Metropolis to Gotham, and—when Harrison Wells finally got enough funding to expand—to Central City. Mind you, it took Karen herself years to leave Gotham before finally catching up with the company. Despite that, she still considered it to be the one fixed point in her life that kept her in check: whenever she faltered, all she had to do was search for the star in the dark.
Watching it become more was both bittersweet and humbling; that building had been nothing but an office, then a tiny compound that hosted a handful of scientists. Karen's best friend called it a disaster waiting to blow up.
She hoped it didn't.
The building's white and blue lights suddenly changed to yellow and orange. Like the sun.
For one shining moment, Karen thought of the past and found that it did not hurt as much as before. She leaned forward, covering her face with one hand as the rain fell harsher.
A column of energy burst through STAR Labs' ceiling, drowning the skies in a thick fog of red. It spread quickly, overtaking the storm overhead; to Karen's shock, she could feel the building hum as a different current of light enveloped it. There was a beat before it imploded outwards, sending a giant wave of energy that razed Central City. She jumped, backing away from the window; at the same time, one by one, the lights of the buildings went out.
Her only warning was the faint sound of glass breaking growing closer and Karen braced herself for the impact. When the wave reached her, it pushed her back slightly. Her skin tingled, hands glimmering blue in the dark in a matter of seconds.
That was when the lightning struck.
The strength of it knocked her back into the room, her body hitting the door and breaking its frosted window; glass crashed around her and she couldn't see anything beyond the blinding light nor hear beyond her own racing heart.
She rested there for a while, waiting for the lightning to strike her this time. It never came.
Groaning, Karen rose on her elbows. Her hands searched blindly around her, glass digging into her palms. The pain did not compare to that of her back or the sudden ache that now came from her heart as if it had been prodded rather savagely with a thousand needles.
Karen tried not to panic, but the abrupt way in which the city came alive didn't help. Cars beeped ceaselessly; sirens wailed close and distantly; voices spoke in her ear with no sign of stopping, pained cries joining in the chorus. Not even covering her ears could stop the oncoming onslaught of life and death and catastrophe.
Tears ran down her cheeks—and those weren't normal tears, were they? She ignored the trails of blood she left, going to peer outside the window. Complete darkness. Other than the vague flashlights flickering in the streets, Central City was submerged in blackness.
Karen leaned out further. "Barry?"
Her call went unanswered; the storm had kicked in with everything. With great trepidation but grateful the emergency lighting had kicked in, she trotted out of the room, her hands holding onto her dark blazer.
A terrible sight greeted her in the forensic labs. Everything that was remotely made of glass had broken: windows, microscopes, flasks, test tubes, pipettes—all drowning in a sea of pink, yellow and green chemicals.
Beneath all that, she saw Barry's converse poking out of the metal stand with shelves.
"Barry!" She ran to his side; glass crunched under her feet. Karen walked around the stand until she found his face, bloody and puffy and strangely serene considering the circumstances. She called for his name again but he didn't react.
Karen took hold of the metal with both hands and tried to lift it. "Come on," she wheezed, "don't die on me." Face turning red, feet digging into the ground, she pushed.
The furniture rolled over loudly, breaking the table it fell on. Karen didn't care; she immediately crouched next to Barry and took his pulse from both neck and wrist. It took her many tries, as his skin shocked her upon contact; she tried until she got used to the feeling of electricity numbing her hand.
His heart, like hers, beat unnaturally fast. She set his arm aside gently and went to stand until she noticed the angry-looking line that ran from under his jaw and down his clothes. It spread out like a tree branch, red as blood.
"I'm going for help," she declared uselessly. "Don't die on me, Allen. Please."
She chucked her heels at the entrance and set off.
At the pit, every police officer available was running around, picking up phones and making calls on their own. Singh, she saw, had returned and was leading a squad into the elevators, gesturing wildly with both hands as he barked orders. The doors closed behind them before Karen could speak out.
"Starr! Where have you been? The phones have been ringing like crazy!"
Karen blinked at the face before her. Blue eyes. Blond hair. There was only one man she knew with those characteristics.
She clutched his arm, lips wobbling. Words refused to leave her though.
"Help, please—Barry, his lab—lightning—"
Hands seized her armpits gently.
"Karen, I need you to breathe," said Eddie Thawne. "Jesus, you're hurt. You need to sit down—"
She shook her head. "Barry, he's—" She swallowed.
"Where's Allen? What happened to him?"
Karen took a deep breath. "A lightning bolt struck him. He... he's not responding."
"Okay." Eddie steered her to her chair and sat her down. "I'm going to call the paramedics. But I need you to see if the emergency team is available so they can check on him first. Can you do that for me?"
She stared at him, then nodded slowly.
"Okay." He picked up her phone and offered it to her. She took it and raised it to her ear as Eddie dialed for the line. Karen spoke to the person in charge, watching as Eddie reached for his phone and called 911. They weren't available and she told Eddie so. Once he hung up, he turned to her and said, "I'm going to keep Allen company while the paramedics are on their way. When they arrive, I need you to take them to us."
"I'll take them to you," she repeated.
"Yeah." He ran a hand down his stubble, grimacing. "You don't happen to know Iris' number, do you?"
Karen dutifully recited the phone number and, for good measure, mentioned Joe West's too. She was still saying the numbers after Eddie left, stopping only when the paramedics arrived. Their stark vests brought her out of her reverie, and she jumped to her feet to greet them.
"He's upstairs."
The man in lead questioned her on the way, asking what she saw and what she did. While it hadn't been long since it happened, the details were lost on her and Karen found herself stumbling over her speech. The paramedic patiently asked question after question before reaching Barry's lab.
Karen stopped short of reaching the entrance as Eddie stood to greet the men. She watched as they prepared the stretcher and lowered Barry into it and, once secured, the paramedics hastily took off with him—except for one.
Much like Eddie, the dark-skinned woman sought to steer her to the closest chair, but Karen seized her wrist and looked into her eyes.
"I don't feel well," she said, and promptly fell into the woman's arms, uncaring of the panicked voices that now surrounded her.
Soon, all noise faded, and the darkness swallowed her.