#7: Aftermath

The Flash
#7: First Steps Part 7
”Aftermath”

Barry’s eyes must have been playing a trick on him. That face…this man…it couldn’t be…

“Dad?” he quietly uttered.

But there was no mistaking that chiseled jaw. Barry had inherited it from him, along with his golden-blond hair. Oftentimes people had joked he was like Harry Potter; he looked just like his father, Henry, except for his bright blue eyes, a feature he shared with his mother.

In shock, Barry couldn’t bring himself to act, leaving the red-cloaked man before him, presumably his father, to grunt in anger and send him flying with a palm thrust. Barry slid across a cluttered work bench, sending a computer and a half-developed gadget onto the tile floor. By the time he recovered, his father had already sped away, but Barry chased after him nonetheless.

He briefly caught sight of his father, who met up with another superfast, red-cloaked figure on the freeway. Suddenly, they both stopped and held their arms out, successfully clotheslining Barry. When he recovered, he discovered the two speedsters had disappeared.

Speeding around the city, he checked every nook and cranny he could, but didn’t find them. Defeated, Barry sighed, and then sped off.

…

Barry quickly returned to STAR Labs and made short work of repairing the wall he’d damaged, much to the shock of Elias, who had been silently bemoaning his luck as he examined it.

“Mister—Mr. Allen,” Elias stammered.

“ThewallwasmyfaultandagaincallmeBarry,” Barry speed-talked as he rebuilt it. Slowing to a stop, he added, “There. Good as new.”

Elias stepped forward, gently touched a piece of it, only to send the whole thing crashing down.

“Might need some mortar,” Elias sarcastically muttered, as Barry blushed.

“I’ll, um, meet you in the lab,” he said, before speeding off.

There, he frightened the remainder of the scientists, leaving Max to yell, “For the last time, stop doing that!”

“Sorry,” Barry replied, although at this point he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Why the hell did he still have a sense of humor? His dad was a murderer!! Everything just seemed so...unreal. Impossible. It was almost funny. Oh God, he was going nuts. Was this how he was coping? What the hell was wrong with him???

As Gehenna spoke, Barry removed his mask and wore it back like a hood, “I think I speak for all of us when I say: what the hell was that?”

“We’re talking about Max almost being killed by a speedster in a cloak, not Barry’s entrances, right? Because as scary as they are, I have to admit they’re dope,” Chester said. Upon Gehenna’s incredulous look, he added, “What? I’m calling people with super speed speedst—”

“Yes, we’re talking about the speedster,” Gehenna interrupted.

“So you’re cool with the word ‘speedster?’” Chester continued.

“Moving on…” Gehenna said.

Max, who until this point had remained silent, unable to tear his gaze off the ground, looked up at Barry and said, “That was your dad, wasn’t it?”

Before Barry could respond, the lab doors opened and in walked Elias.

“What have I missed?” he interjected.

“Barry’s dad tried to kill me,” Max said.

“Colloquially speaking or literally…?” Elias replied.

Max simply answered the question by glaring at him.

“Barry, is Max right? Was your dad the man in the cloak?” Gehenna asked, utterly bewildered. Even Chester couldn’t bring himself to crack a joke or interject awkwardly.

Barry took a deep breath, sat on the edge of a table, and mustered the courage to say, “Yeah, I...I think so. I had no idea…he never seemed like…did you see he could vibrate his molecules so quickly he could pass through walls? That he’s that fast, that he can keep a secret like this, do you know what that means??”

“You guys have good genes?” Chester offered, only to be smacked in the shoulder by Gehenna.

“When my mother was murdered, they questioned my father first. He was at a party. His friends backed him up on that. But what if…what if he took a break. What if he went to ‘get some fresh air’ or ‘go to the bathroom’? What if he used his powers to go home and kill my mother so quickly that nobody noticed he was gone?” Barry struggled to finish. 

As much as Max wanted to agree with him, he knew as his friend he had to say, “Barry, just because your father is mixed up in this doesn’t mean…”

“He could have killed my mom!” Barry roared, standing up, his eyes full of tears. “He’s probably killed at least a dozen innocent people already! You saw that knife he had? Every other ‘impossible’ victim was killed by a jagged blade just like that one! He killed them!!”

Barry had to turn away from the others. He couldn’t look at them. He buried his head in his hands and tried to stop the tears from coming, but that only made him cry harder. His father, the man who had raised him, who he’d trusted with his every secret—save his powers—was one of the people responsible for dozens of murders. The murders…

“Are they still out there? Are people still being killed?” Barry, still sobbing, turned around to ask. He didn't want to know the answer, but he knew he had to find out. This was his responsibility. 

Chester, speechless, shook his head ‘no,’ lifting his phone for Barry to see. The blond read through numerous tweets from news sources and the CCPD claiming the killings had stopped. They were calling the night “Bloody Monday.”

“Thank God that’s over. We can finally rid ourselves of this case and leave it to the proper authorities,” Elias pushed.

“No.” The surprise speaker—Max. He continued, all eyes on him, “No, we’re in this together now. If Barry’s dad…the police force is compromised. We can’t trust anyone outside of this room. The best way, maybe the only way to save this city is to save it ourselves.”

Barry didn’t--couldn't--say anything, but the thankful look he gave Max spoke volumes.

“You know I’m in,” Chester interjected.

“Likewise,” Gehenna said, putting a hand on Chester’s shoulder.

“Oh, for the love of—” Elias cried out, only to be interrupted by Barry.

“You want to win back public approval? Save the city,” he said, wiping away his tears, struggling to control his emotions. 

Elias paused to consider his point, then sighed and said, “Fine. What’s the harm in throwing our bloody lives away?”

A wave of relief washed over Barry, along with something else...something brighter. He felt a teensy grin sneak over his lips. Was it insanity? Maybe...but he'd found people he could trust. That was something...something he needed now more than ever. 

Barry turned back to Max, “Let’s get right to it then. Max, did my father say anything to you?”

“Yeah. Just one thing: ‘die for the Lightning.’ But here’s the thing—that phrase is the same sort of BS the cultists who killed my brother preached. Their name was ‘the Children of the Lightning,’” Max explained.

“I hate to ask this, but can you look them up?” Barry said.

“We’ve all got demons to deal with, Barry. Consider it done,” Max said, sliding his chair over to a computer and getting to work.

“You all research everything you can about these guys. I’ll head back to the station and gather whatever info I can. We’ll meet up tomorrow morning to go over what we’ve learned,” Barry said.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Chester saluted.

“Excuse me, Barry, but who are you to give orders?” Elias stopped him before he could leave.

“You have a better plan?” Barry pushed.

“…no.”

“Then sit down and start googling,” Barry ordered.

Elias exchanged a look with Gehenna, who motioned him to a computer, before he reluctantly got to work. Barry wasted not a second more in the lab, speeding away.

Slyly watching him go, Gehenna noted, “I like this side of Barry. He’s…confident.”

Max stared grimly at the door after his friend, before shaking his head and saying, “No. He’s just motivated.”

…

The police station was barely less crowded than when Barry had last been inside it. A night like tonight, it was no wonder his fellow officers looked equally drained and alert. They had to be on their toes just in case the murderers came back. Speaking of…

“Forrest, sir,” Barry called to his supervisor, who turned to greet him. “Do we have an update on the murderers’ IDs?”

“You’d know if you’d been here, Barry,” Forrest coolly replied, hurrying off to do who-knows-what.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Barry apologized, following him around the lab, “Something important came up. Something related to the murders.”

“Barry…” Forrest took his apology to heart, but couldn’t shake the cold feeling in his chest. Still, he sighed and moved on, “To answer your question, no, we have no idea who the killers are. Now, if you wouldn’t mind informing me where exactly you went and why.”

“My father called me. I went looking for him, afraid he—”

“—is perfectly fine,” came an all too familiar voice right behind him.

Barry wanted nothing more than to run away, to avoid the man behind him. However, he mustered his courage and turned around to face his father, Henry.

“Dad…” Barry greeted, meeting his father’s gaze.

Did he recognize him in costume? What exactly did he know, and what was his endgame? Looking in his father’s eyes, Barry couldn’t read him at all. He didn’t seem cheery exactly, but that was hardly unusual for a night like tonight. If anything, he seemed positively normal.

‘All psychopaths do…’ Barry glumly thought.

“Forrest, would you mind if I take Barry home? He’s still recovering, and an all-nighter won’t help anything,” Henry spoke over his son’s shoulder.

Forrest didn’t like the idea, but he saw his point. “That’s fine, but I need you here at eight sharp, Barry.”

“Yes, sir,” Barry agreed before following his father away.

The two walked in silence till they were nearly out of the building. Barry’s mind raced. What could he do? What should he do?

Finally, Henry spoke up, “What a night.”

“Yeah,” Barry grimaced, “A real shocker.”

They exited the building and entered the parking lot. The second their feet touched pavement, Barry grabbed his father and sped him away.

…

Slowing down enough so the throw wouldn’t kill him, Barry tossed his father against the wall of Elias’ lab. STAR Labs’ resident scientists jerked back in surprise, but no one screamed this time.

“Barry…what…?” Henry couldn’t seem to find the right words.

“TALK!” Barry roared, as the others rose to back him up, not a single one sure what to say or how to react. Nobody could hold him back now. Every confused, angry moment he'd had since discovering his father's secret was bubbling to the surface all at once. 

“About what? What’s going on? Where are we? How did you…?” Henry’s voice faded.

“Don’t lie to me! I know what you really are! I know you killed all those people! So I want answers, and don’t think for one second that if you run off I won’t catch you,” Barry growled, losing control of his emotions. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Henry muttered hazily. The world seemed to be spinning around him. What was going on? Barry... “God, you’re…fast. Was it—was it the lightning bolt? …Am I dreaming?”

“Stop it! Stop playing stupid,” Barry demanded, stepping forward, ready to hit his own father. 

Running over with two small puck-shaped gadgets in his hands, Chester said, “Slow down a sec. I can monitor his vitals with these, see if he’s lying.”

Barry ran a hand through his hair and turned away, resisting the temptation to continue screaming at his father. Meanwhile, Chester attached each node to a side of Henry’s head, much to the older man’s distaste.

“I...I don't know what you're talking about, but I’ll do whatever you want, son. Just talk to me. You said I’m a…a killer? Max…what’s he talking about?” Henry asked, looking at the only other person in the room he knew.

Max couldn’t bring himself to verbally respond. Instead, he simply glared at Henry.

“Tonight, dad…Henry,” Barry began, “I caught you trying to kill Max. I’m the man in red, the one who stopped Axel Walker yesterday, and I know you’re a member of the Children of the Lightning.”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Henry muttered.

“He’s lying,” Chester clarified, looking at a tablet.

Barry sped over to Henry and slammed him against the wall. “STOP IT! STOP LYING!!”

His eyes seemingly filled with genuine terror, Henry broke eye contact with his son, “I know about the Children, but I’m not one of them. I’d—”

“Lie,” Chester said, and Barry shoved his father against the wall again.

“—I never have and never would kill anyone for them! I’m not a cold-blooded murderer,” Henry finished. H

Barry looked back at Chester, who shrugged and said, “He at least think he’s telling the truth.”

Barry backed off, leaving his father to collapse back against the wall. “Keep talking.”

Henry sighed and continued, “When I was a kid, I got mixed up with the Children. I was looking for…support. They offered that. You see, we never visited my parents for a reason. They were…cruel, so I ran away from them. But I was still just a kid. I needed help. The Children came to me, and I...." His voice faded with regret. He took a moment to muster the strength to continue, "Before long, I realized just how crazy they were. Weekly fasts and insane rituals all for some stupid god they believed would grant them eternal life…it was too much for me, so I ran away again. This time I steered to the right side of the law. Got pulled into the force. Met your mother.” His voice softened. He looked Barry in the eyes. “Had you.”

Throughout the story, Barry had occasionally looked back at Chester to see if his father was lying, but the young man continuously gave him thumbs up. So when his father finished, he didn’t know what to say. Luckily, he didn’t have to speak. His father wasn’t done.

His eyes darkening again, Henry finished his story. “When your mother died, they came to me, said they could bring her back. They said their god, Savitar, he could revive her. I was a grieving, broken man. The idea seemed ridiculous, but it gave me hope. I decided to give it a shot, but I swore to myself the instant things got dangerous, I’d back out. And I did. It took me a couple years, but I found out they were committing human sacrifices, so I sold them out. Helped in the raid, too…”

“My brother led that raid. He didn’t make it out alive,” Max spoke up, caught between grief and rage.

Henry looked up, his eyes bleeding the tears of a still damaged man. “I’m sorry. I never knew him personally, but he seemed like a good man.”

“He was,” Max coolly responded.

Henry nodded solemnly and then looked at Barry. “I swear to you, son, I haven’t even spoken with a member since that day. I’m not your killer.”

Chester gave another thumbs up. Barry didn’t know what to think about what he’d just heard. His father was telling the truth…but then what the hell had happened? Who had he seen? Did his father have a twin he didn’t know about? Was it mind control? Did that even exist?

Barry took a deep breath and faced the others. “We need to keep him here overnight. Someone needs to watch him at all times. The rest can get some sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“I’ll take first shift,” Gehenna offered.

“Thanks,” Barry said, “Call me when it’s my turn.” He looked down at his father, and just said what came to mind. “Dad, I’m not gonna pretend like I know what’s going on, but—”

“I need to stay here. I understand. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you trust me,” Henry agreed.

Barry nodded, still utterly conflicted, and began to back up. Before he could get too far, however, his father stopped him.

“Barry…” Henry said, “Are you a superhero?”

Barry couldn’t help it. He smiled. “Something like that.”

…

“I want every possible suspect brought in tonight. Do I make myself clear?” the commissioner said to a room full of police officers.

“Crystal,” Joe West agreed, as the others nodded.

“Do whatever it takes. We have to find these killers before the National Guard is brought in,” the commissioner said, and then muttered under his breath, “Before I lose my job.”

…

The officer kicked the door down without a second’s hesitation. He rushed in the two-room apartment alongside three other cops, each with their firearm drawn.

Mick Rory jerked out of bed and put his hands in the air. “What the hell is going on?!”

“Miguel Rory, we have a warrant for your arrest,” the lead officer explained, circling around the ex-con to cuff him.

“On what charge?” Mick wondered, anger burning in his chest.

“Murder,” the lead officer stated, reaching for him.

“Like hell,” Mick fiercely whispered. He pulled the lead officer into a hostage position and drew the man’s gun on him before any of the other cops could so much as flinch.

“Any of you assholes gets trigger happy and Officer Dickface here gets to retire early,” Mick warned, pointing the pistol at the lead officer’s head.

“Put your guns down!” the man panicked.

The other cops hesitated, but did as they were told. In two clean motions, Mick punched the window over his bed, shattering it, and kicked the lead officer forward, knocking the cops over. He then dived out of the window before anyone could fire, and landed in the open garbage bin below. Something Snart had taught him: always have an exit strategy.

Mick had disappeared into the shadows of the night before a single cop could locate him.

…

Wally couldn’t sleep. The constant rip roaring police cars outside his window had drawn his curiosity, but Iris had refused to let him watch the News. Still, she seemed to forget he had a smartphone. The murders had at first shocked him, but slowly rage replaced his confusion.

If Wally had Barry’s powers, none of this would have happened. He’d have stopped the killers after their first victim. Maybe that wasn’t fair to Barry. Maybe he didn’t have his powers at that point in time, but still…

Wally heard knocking at his door and said, “Come in.”

He could make out Iris in the darkness. His aunt leaned against the doorway and waited a few moments to consider what to say before speaking.

“I know you’ve heard about tonight. I wasn’t…it doesn’t make sense, but I just…I wanted to protect you, and I wasn’t thinking straight,” Iris explained, before adding, “But we’re safe now. Pop-pop and the others are gonna find the killers.”

“No, they won’t,” Wally simply replied. He silently finished his thought, ‘Whatever’s going on, it’s out of their hands. Only Barry can stop them now.’

“You have to trust in the police force, Wally. Figuring stuff like this out is literally their job…”

“Iris,” Wally interrupted.

His aunt paused, before saying, “Yeah?”

“If you could make a difference, if you could save lives, but at the cost of your own, would you do it?” he asked.

Iris was taken aback. Wally certainly wasn’t your average twelve-year-old but still, what had inspired that?

“I…that’s a difficult question to answer. I’d like to think so, yeah,” Iris admitted. “Why?”

“No reason. …I—I’m gonna try to get some sleep. Got school tomorrow,” Wally said, pulling his covers over him and lying down.

“If they don’t cancel it,” Iris muttered to herself.

“Huh?” Wally said.

“Nothing. Just…sleep tight. Let me know if you need anything,” Iris said, closing the door.

Before she could, Wally said, “Hey, Iris?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Iris softly smiled. “I love you, too, Wally. Good night.”

“Night.”

…

Early in the morning, before dawn, Gehenna awoke to the sounds of typing. She stood up from her resting place on an air mattress and blinked to make out the others in the darkness. Elias had, surprisingly enough, stuck around and even worked a shift. However, now he and Chester had both collapsed on the hard tile floor. Henry was sound asleep on an air mattress, and Max…well, Max was the one typing.

“What time is it?” Gehenna whispered.

“5:47,” Max quietly replied.

Gehenna yawned. “Your shift was over 17 minutes ago. Want me to call Barry?”

Max shook his head. “No. Let him sleep.”

Gehenna watched him for a few moments, before sitting down beside him. “If you’re gonna double up shifts, ‘least you could use is company.”

“And a Redbull,” Max quipped.

“I’ll go see what sort of caffeinated witchcraft I can concoct,” Gehenna playfully replied, rising.

As she left, Max said, “You don’t have to stay up with me, Gen.”

Gehenna paused, smiled, and then continued on her way, saying, “You don’t have to act like a lone wolf all the time.”

Max smirked, and then got back to work.

…

Leonard Snart needed his beauty sleep. He grew surly if he didn’t get at least a decent seven hours of rest. It was one of his many quirks, and the sort of the thing the other Rogues used to joke about. Even Iris couldn’t quell his frustration if he were awakened early, but that didn’t stop someone from knocking on his door in the wee hours of the morning.

Groaning, Snart rolled out of bed, threw on boxers, and walked over to his front door. He opened it, ready to chew out whoever was waiting for him, only to discover an out of breath, sweat-drowned Mick Rory.

“Only place I could think to go,” he huffed. “Ran straight here.”

“Looks like it,” Snart muttered, too shocked to yell at him. He let Mick in, and the ex-con stumbled over to his couch, then proceeded to collapse onto it.

“Police are after me. They think I killed my sister,” Mick explained, before weakly stating, “I’m not going to jail again.”

“Let me get you some water,” Snart said, moving back to the kitchen, but Mick stopped him by grabbing his arm.

“One last thing,” Mick began. He smirked. “Sorry for interrupting your beauty sleep, princess.”

Snart grinned, but smacked Mick over the head nonetheless. “Shut up and relax.”

“Yes, sir.”

…

In a darkened church lit by candles and nothing but, nearly fifty cloaked figures stood on one side of bronze bench emblazoned with the image of an armored man running. Around the building, traditional Christian icons had been painted over with yellow lightning bolts. Two of the cloaked figures wielded similarly shaped knives.

The head priest, an elderly woman with long white hair and a spear reminiscent of the blades, stood on the other side of the bench and boomed, “Tomorrow, our savior returns!”

The hooded figures cheered, but their leader quickly silenced them.

“Before his departure, The Distant Son brought news of The Demon, a demigod gifted with the Lightning. As prophesied, he who banished our god from the Earth has reincarnated, and tomorrow we send our three warriors into battle to slay The Demon and return with the energy necessary to give our lord and master human form - to revive the Chosen Son!” Motioning to the two armed figures, the priest said, “Step forward, our chosen—The Ghost and The Fallen.”

The two hooded figures with knives did just that, and knelt before the bearded priest. A storm raged above as the priest put her spear over each of the ‘warriors.’ Yellow energy raced from its tip into them, and surrounded The Ghost and The Fallen in an electric-like aura.

“Take the power we retrieved tonight and go. Recruit The Distant Son, find The Demon, and slay him! The fate of our lord, our master, our god Savitar lies in your hands!”