#24: Anti-Life

The Flash
#24: Legacy of Barry Allen Part 5
“Anti-Life”

Wally looked half a corpse, his pimpled skin gray-toned like the man restrained next to him—but he was alive. Wally was alive, and stable, and so was Daniel, and that’s all Iris could ask for. The Wests wouldn’t suffer another tragedy just yet. Not just yet. Your husband is dead.

The room spun around her. Iris tripped back, caught by the lab tech. What was her name? Gemma? Gehenna. Gehenna Hewitt. Focus on the name. Not the walls. Not the floor. Not the cops. I’m in STAR Labs. STAR Labs.

“You okay?” Gehenna asked, her voice ripe with genuine concern. She was the one who’d stabilized Wally. She was a healer, that one, a healer. Focus on that.

“Just tired,” Iris managed. She stood up straight, and began to massage her aching head. “Thanks.”

“It’s been a hell of a day,” Max noted. He was staring down at the gray man, whose heart, to everyone’s surprise, was beating steadily. His brother, Iris had to remind herself. That was his brother, Jamie. Your brother is dead.

“Someone needs to deal with the reporters,” Elias grumbled, eyeing the video monitor.

The parking lot was filled to the brim with news vans and curious onlookers. Gehenna had sent their lone security guard out to keep them at bay. It wasn’t going well, to say the least, and they couldn’t call the CCPD for support, given they were harboring a fugitive.

“And explain the big-ass lightbeam? Hot chance,” Chester said, fiddling nervously with a Rubix Cube. “You up in arms, go do it yourself, oh glorious leader.”

“You know damn well I can’t,” Elias retorted. “This isn’t my lab anymore.”

“Hey, cooler heads prevail, yeah? Chill out,” Cisco said.

“Who the hell are you again? Captain Cold?” Chester retorted.

“Cisco Ramon,” he replied. Then, with a cocky smirk, “I’m kind of a big deal in quantum physics.”

Every other scientist snorted at once. Chester outright laughed. Cisco sunk back into himself, muttering, “The bad guy knew me.”

“Yo, big deal, did you steal my QPhone?” Chester asked, to which the scientist shook his head. “Has anyone seen it?”

“Oh my god, Chess, now’s not the time,” Gehenna grumbled.

“That thing’s hella expensive. I’m just saying.”

Their bickering continued, but faded to a deadened drone. Iris’ ears were ringing. A single voice echoed in her head. Your husband is dead. I’m so, so sorry. STAR Labs became a ghost, and there was a door in front of her. The front door. What was she doing? She could ask the others for help. They might know why she was…they might…where was she? Home. She was home. The cops beckoned her forward. Iris walked through the door.

A crimson tempest erupted before her. The wind ripped at her skin, the light burned her eyes, and the roar of it drowned out everything else. This was it. This was what killed—

“Barry. Barry!”

The Fastest Man Alive, the hero of the Gem Cities, was running from his father. The storm cleared, and Iris felt grounded again. She was in the main lab, or what remained of it. The Blackout Generator had torn a hole through the floor, and left the tech in ruins. That did little to dissuade Barry from vibrating back down into the wreckage.

“Barry, please, you have to go after him. He’s just a boy. Barry—” Henry called after his son, but he was already gone. With an exasperated breath, Henry ran a hand through his hair, and for a moment he looked just like Barry.

“You’re making him feel worse,” said Iris. Henry looked at her, and she noticed there were tears in his eyes. He and Barry had taken the kidnapping really badly. The old Allen guilt in action. “He’s got no way of tracking the kid down.”

“Thaddeus. His name was…” Henry sighed. “You’re right, Iris. You’re right. Just like your pops that way. He was always right, and boy, did he let me know it.” He almost smiled. Almost. “God…he’s one of us, the boy. He saved me, Iris, and he’s one of us. We owe it to him…” Iris tried to speak up, but the crack in Henry’s voice stopped her. “I can’t lose another, not to that man. I just can’t.”

The storm roared in her ears. Your husband is dead.

“I’m so, so sorry.” The words trickled out of her mouth, and she was moving, faster, nearly running. Iris embraced Henry Allen, hugging him like she would her father. He broke down in her arms. She had to hold him up, had to keep him from falling.

She almost told him then. Almost warned him, but she couldn’t do it. Not now. Not with everything that was going on.

Instead, after a few moments, she offered, “I’ll go talk to him.”

“Bless you, Iris,” Henry sobbed. “God bless you.”

The blessing spoke hollowly back, “Your husband is dead.”

…

It took Iris a hot second to find the stairwell to the basement. Considering the employees hadn’t known it existed before the building blew up, she felt quite proud of that. She could investigate her way out of a hostage situation—more than one, in fact. But insanity, time travel, whatever the hell this was? That was impossible. Focus on him. Focus on your hus—focus on Barry.

She found him dressed in his reds in the wreckage of the Blackout Generator, moving like a hurricane, piecing together some sort of gadget. Something way beyond her BA. He was a genius, Barry Allen. And a kind man, a good man. A hero. He didn’t deserve to die.

“Barry,” she called. “Barry, slow dow—”

He stopped, and the rush of wind that accompanied him blew her hair back and dried out her eyes and throat. She blinked back tears. They’re dry. Just dry. Nothing’s set in stone…

Barry’s voice came out in a buzz. He was speaking too quickly, and he realized it, slowing even further down. “Sorry, I…sorry. I said how’s Wally?”

“He’s fine. Gehenna stabilized him,” Iris said.

“Good, good. If you don’t mind, I…” He indicated the device in his hand.

“I’m not gonna leave you to brood. It’s not a good look on you,” she said.

“I’m not—I’m not brooding,” he stammered, “I’m working. This is…I’m trying to recalibrate my phone so it can track tachyonal particles. Uh, I mean—”

“You’re trying to track down the kid,” Iris said. “Chester gave me a rundown…without prompting. Savitar, Thawne, your powers, everything.”

He looked at his feet, blushing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you’re unintelligent or—”

“Take it easy. I’m not upset.”

“Good. Good… not to be a jerk, but could you leave?”

“I just told you—”

“Listen, Iris, Iappreciateyourconcernbut—”

“Did you know about us?” She’d been holding it in, trying to say anything, ask anything but that. He just knew how to push her buttons, how to remind her about…Don’t. Stop. Focus on him. Focus on us.

“What’s there to know?” Barry replied, eyes bright with characteristic naiveté.

So he didn’t know, not about them, about what they would be. What they might be. She scrambled for a response, “About, y’know, us Wests. Tied to the…you call it the Speed Force? A bit goofy.”

Barry wasn’t amused. “That’s why he needed Wally? Jeez. It all comes back to me.”

“No, Barry, it doesn’t,” Iris spat back. His comment stung, but she tried not to think about why. “You’re not the center of the universe. You’re not…” She rubbed her aching head. “You’re not God. You don’t decide anyone’s fate; you can’t make people do anything. Thawne is responsible for all of this.”

“And you obeyed his every command,” Barry blurted. He instantly regretted it, sighing. “I’m sorry. That’s not fair. He could’ve hurt you, or Wally, or worse—”

“Stop it! Stop apologizing!” Iris said. “You can’t—you can’t change the past. But you can…you just have to move forward. There’s always tomorrow.” Is there? Is there really? She saw the cops’ faces, and felt the world fall away.

In a shock of light, Barry sped to her side and caught her. “Iris!” He was so handsome, in a dorky sort of way. Too big of a forehead, nose too long, eyes too small, but his smile, his kind smile, the way his eyes seemed to glow when he was upset, the way he could look at you, like you were the only other person in the world…any girl would be lucky to have him. “You okay? You look…Just sit down. I’ll—”

“We haven’t gotten to spend a lot of time together, not since you got back,” said Iris.

That caught him off guard. However, after she repeatedly assured him she was just a bit tired, he sat down beside her anyway. He shrugged. “That’s life, I guess. We’re busy. People grow apart, you know?”

“Not us,” Iris said. “I mean…we’ve been friends forever. There’s no reason to throw that away just because life’s a little chaotic. I don’t want to.” And she found that she meant it. And that terrified her.

Barry was staring at her. God, why was he staring at her? When she looked up into his kind, blue eyes, she felt herself blush. But it got worse.

“I loved you,” he said without a hint of embarrassment. “When we were kids, you were everything to me. My hero. I know you’ve said the same about me, but I’m serious. You never ignored me. You never forgot about that sad, weird, crippled kid at the back of the class. You never forgot about anyone.” That was a bit of an exaggeration. She’d tried to be kind, but she’d been a teenager, too, a brat at the worst of times.

Nonetheless he continued, voice deepening, impassioned. “But it wasn’t just that you made me feel like I wasn’t alone. It was so much more than that. You stood up for people, and after you did, you stopped to talk to them. To the people you saved. You took time for them, you smiled, you laughed, even when they made ridiculously bad puns.”

A giggle escaped her. Barry had always had a dad’s sense of humor. “You reassured me every day—through your words and your actions. People can be good. The world can be good. Every day’s a new start.” There were tears in his eyes. There were tears in hers. “And that wasn’t easy after…after my mom. But you did it, and it stuck with me, even when we were apart. There’s always tomorrow. And there’s always people worth spending tomorrow with. Just look around.”

Iris took Barry’s hand in her own, and he didn’t pull away. She felt her lips move, felt the words begin to slip out, “Barry, I…”

“BARRY!!” The voice cut her off. Chester Runk’s head appeared over the edge of the hole above. His face was damp with sweat, cheeks flushed, eyes wide with fear. “It’s Thawne. He’s outside. He—”

But Barry had already left, accompanied by a flash of light and a surge of wind. Chess ran off without another word, leaving Iris alone in the dark. Alone with the twins, the thought came unprompted, unexpected. Tears flooded her eyes. She brushed her hair back, and wrapped her arms around her legs, and felt the storm develop before her—a tornado, the color of blood.

“Iris West? Your husband is dead.”

…

Eobard Thawne licked his lips with anticipation, and quelled the lightning in his veins. He stood before the crowd of reporters in the guise of the Flash, red suit and all. The men and women of large and small papers and channels alike shouted out questions. Cameras carried his visage to the masses. He’d never felt more alive. It took me too long, far too long, to consider this opportunity. Why ever should I destroy the Flash when I could become him? The only story better than a fall-from-grace is a redemption.

“My name,” Eobard’s booming voice brought silence before him, “is Barry Allen, and I am the Fastest Man Alive.” He removed his cowl, revealing the face of one Bartholomew Henry Allen. “I am the Flash.”

The crowd roared. Eobard smiled. Then a crimson wind blew, and the villain steadied himself for the confrontation to come.

“Liar!” The one true Barry Allen stopped out front of STAR Labs, right on the edge of the crowd. His face was contorted into a rictus mask of rage beneath the rim of his crimson cowl. That, Eobard noted, is the face of a villain. The truth inside Barry Allen’s heart. “Murderer,” the so-called hero spat.

The reporters twisted between the speedsters, calling out their confusion, and stepped back, forming an open path between them.

“Where’s the kid?” Barry demanded.

Eobard shrugged. “What kid? Who the hell are you?”

Barry froze. He wouldn’t remove his cowl, wouldn’t give up hope that he could fix everything, including his lost identity. Eobard had revealed the hero’s identity in some dozen timelines. Each time Barry Allen struggled to surrender his Silver Age trappings. Old-fashioned and naïve, a deadly combination. Particularly given the timing, timing he’d planned for years—timing set to a simple phone call, an anonymous tip for the DEO.

A wave of cold energy struck Eobard in the back, and knocked him to the ground. A black sedan screeched to a halt, and out hopped Leonard Snart, the would-be Captain Cold, topped out in his gear, cold gun still fogging from his shot. Behind him came the driver, Mick Rory, Heatwave, decked out in a white heatsuit of his own.

“Back the hell off!” Heatwave roared at the crowd, to which they complied, screaming.

“Stay down, asshole,” Len growled at Eobard, “And I’ll make this quick.”

Eobard, rather loudly, replied, “So this is a Rogues’ op. Should’ve known.”

In the blink of an eye, he defrosted and sped into the crowd of reporters. “Everyone, run! That man,” he indicated Barry Allen, “is Samuel Scudder, the Mirror Master, and he’s impersonating me. He faked his own death, and now—”

Barry Allen rushed Eobard, and threw him into the open. They scuffled at superspeed for a moment as some reporters fled and the others made the intelligent decision to stay in the line of fire. In this case, that was literal, as Heatwave fired off a blast toward both Flashes. Eobard stepped to the side to take the full brunt of the blow, a calculated decision that burned the back off his suit. He screamed the loudest he could, drawing out his pain, but inside it meant nothing to him. This pain was ordinary. It was insignificant compared to the burden he had carried through lifetimes.

“You may knock me down, Rogues, but I’ll always get back up,” he grunted. Slowly, dramatically, he rose to his feet. “I’ll fight to the end for the people of Central City.”

Heatwave unsurprisingly looked mystified. Snart fired up a cold field between the speedsters and the reporters, protecting them. Barry sped forward and slammed Eobard into the ground, furious.

“What, you think you can be me? You think that’ll fool anyone?” said Barry.

“Uh, Snart, which one’s the real Flash?” Heatwave grumbled.

Eobard smirked. “Did you know that we can move objects so quickly we can rearrange their matter?”

Barry frowned. In a flash of light, Eobard had risen again, and Barry’s suit had changed. As its vibrations slowed, the so-called hero stepped into the role of villain, clad in yellow tights, his crimson bolt the reverse of Eobard’s own.

“Are you even Scudder at all? Is this reflection, this Reverse Flash an illusion, or are you someone else entirely? Some new villain, the mastermind behind the Rogues?” Eobard called.

Barry hesitated. That would be his doom. Eobard felt the ecstasy of lightning in his veins, the feeling he’d craved for an eternity—not the Reverse Speed Force, nor the power of pills, but the greatest of Forces, the very storm that empowered Barry Allen, his destiny. He charged his archenemy.

And Barry ran.

…

Len Snart watched the speedsters run off in a blur, then cursed under his breath. He lost Thawne in their superfast scuffle. This was nothing he was prepared for, two Flashes. Changing costumes didn’t clarify a thing. They were basically gods. But no…no, forget that. He could have ended it all. Could have blown Thawne to hell, but he hesitated. I’m a killer. Lisa’s right. So why was I scared to pull the trigger? Not like Thawne didn’t have it coming. Least there’s one thing I can do right here.

He lowered the cold field around the reporters, and approached them as Mick mumbled to himself. As reckless as they had acted when the Flashes were around, the crowd backed off as he approached. Some people went running to their vans.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I just gotta make something clear: Samuel Scudder is dead. He died a hero, saving your dumbass hero’s life,” said Len. “Don’t take my word for it. Call who you gotta. But you’ll find Scudder’s dead. There’s an imposter Flash running around, but you don’t need to worry. He don’t got much time left.”

The reporters muttered amongst themselves. None stepped forward…for a moment. Finally, a single woman pushed through to the front of the crowd. Len’s heart sunk.

“Iris West with the Central City Citizen,” she began, “Would you mind explaining how a career criminal escapes Iron Heights? I see you got a new suit. Who exactly is in the business of freeing and bankrolling murderers? The mob? A corporation? Our government?”

Len couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. Iris was unshaken, her gaze cold as ice. A brief moment of silence, then the whole crowd erupted with questions. Len threw up another cold field around them, and backed off. Won’t be hearing any more bullshit from any of them.

“Uh, Snart, we got incoming,” Mick said.

Sure enough, three SWAT cars screeched to a halt around them. The cops jumped out, rifles raised, followed by Agents Kim and Samson. No, that wasn’t a SWAT team. These were highly trained DEO agents in disguise. They weren’t getting out of this one. Len lowered his cold gun and put his hands in the air. Mick did the same.

“You know we got trackers in you, right? Explosive trackers,” Agent Kim said, waddling forward. “You went AWOL as soon as we got a tip. That’s not how we do things.”

“Could’ve blown you sky high. You’re damn lucky we were feeling very Christian today,” Agent Samson grunted, and popped her neck.

“I’m not a Christian,” Kim said.

“Did I ask?”

Kim sighed, shaking her head. “Leonard Snart and Miguel Rory,” she began, “You’re under arrest.”

…

“You’re unbelievable,” Chester said, perhaps for the tenth time, “It would’ve been over in no time flat if you’d just gone out and helped—”

“Chess, for the last time, shut the hell up,” Max spat, holding Jamie down with the help of Cisco Ramon as his brother squirmed, sparking with crimson energy.

As soon as Thawne had shown up, Jamie woke up and started to trash the lab. Standard anesthetics wouldn’t make him fall unconscious. He vibrated right through restraints. Max had even tried to knock him out again, but it did nothing. Something had changed. Something was wrong.

“We can handle your zombie bro—”

“Not the time!” Gehenna chided, running back into the room. She had what looked like a giant, clunky nerf gun in her hands. “Max, Cisco, get out of the way!”

“You can’t just shoot him!” Max protested.

“That’s my gravity gun,” Chess panicked.

“Not exactly,” Gehenna said, “Guys, move!!”

“Chester’s gravity engine nearly tore the building down the first time he tested it. What the hell are you doing??” Elias roared, cowering in the corner.

To that, Cisco backed up, hands in the air. “Uh uh. Not dying for this.”

“I retrofitted it with a prototype cold generator. It’s like Snart’s gun,” Gen explained. Her arms were quivering. “This shit’s heavy. I said MOVE!!”

Max refused, planted in place, using all the superspeed and strength he had to keep his brother down on the table. Gehenna raised the cold gun.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

He looked down at his brother, then back up at her. We’re a god. We need obey no one, Savitar said. You’re right, Max thought. But sometimes you just have to let go.

Max stepped back. Gen fired. Jamie immediately jerked up, but lost himself to the wave of cold energy. The crimson lightning faded from his gray skin. He slowed, then finally collapsed. He was still.

Max breathed, slumping against the wall, as Gehenna set the gun aside and got to work reapplying the leads to Jamie’s chest. Chester stepped up beside him.

“You need to leave, Max,” he said, “Barry needs you.”

“I know,” Max said, “I…”

His voice faded. Gehenna had gone deathly pale. Her hands were still shaking. His eyes traced to his brother, to his chest, which wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing.

“No, nonononononono.” Time sped up. Max was by his brother’s side in an instant. He placed his hands on his chest, and tried to shock him to life. No luck.

I explained to you how his body functioned. The Speed Force was his only tether to this side, Savitar said gently. Your friend cut it off.

NO!! Max reached into his well of power, reached deep inside it, and allowed the energy, the healing energy to flow through his hands and into Jamie. His gray skin shined blue. We’re a god. We can perform miracles.

Yes, we can, Savitar’s voice quivered, straining through, I have brought back loved ones before, but you must know they are never the same, never truly whole. You may give him a part of your power, but you cannot give him more than a false life, an anti-life. He will exist as he has for some time: as little more than a shell of a man. But that is something. That is still a miracle.

Tears flooded Max’s eyes and dripped onto Jamie’s chest, balls of light. His metal suit faded away, the focus of all his power on healing his brother, reviving his brother. But nothing changed. His brother did not move.

Max felt a ghostly hand on his shoulder. I will teach you how to share our power, to make him move again, Savitar said. We can perform this miracle. We can save him.

They could bring Jamie back. They could make him stand, make him speak, make him run. Max wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. But it wouldn’t be him, not really. He looked to Gen, a tear creeping at a snail’s pace down her cheek. He looked at Chess, who was pressing forward to help, held back only by Elias. He looked into Cisco’s eyes, haunted as if he’d seen this before. And he looked at the monitor, at the crimson line tracing Barry’s path through Central City. We can’t save Jamie. We never could.

An anti-life is still more than death, Savitar protested, We are gods. We can save everyone—

We can save everyone who’s still around, Max replied, closing his brother’s lifeless eyes. We can save Barry.

Time slowed. Max caught Gehenna as she collapsed, losing control of her legs. Her gaze was locked on the corpse, blank, as Chester demanded to be freed.

“I—I’m sorry,” she said, “I thought I was helping. I…I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh, shhhh,” Max hushed her, “It’s okay. You saved him. You saved my brother.” He coughed back tears. “He’s resting now. He’s finally resting.” Gehenna broke down against him, and began to sob into his shoulder. Max looked up at Chess, who froze. “Chess, buddy, can you handle things here? I need to go help Barry.”

“Yeah.” Chess nodded, then hurriedly wiped at his eyes. “Yes, of course.”

“Thanks.”

Max helped Gehenna back to her feet, then stepped back, reforming his armored suit. Dr. Elias had already grabbed a sheet, and he covered Jamie with it. Cisco remained in the corner, staring at the figure beneath the sheet with unconcealed horror. Chess forced a smile, and smacked Max’s back.

“Run, Max, ru—OWW!” He recoiled in pain. “That’s legit armor. I thought—”

Imbecile, said Savitar, though Max wasn’t sure if it was directed at Chess or him.

This is right, he reassured himself. Jamie was too far gone. But for the logic of it, it felt like a lie. Grief weighed on Max, and fueled a bitter rage hot inside him. Without another word, he sped off to save who he could…

And to make Thawne pay.

…

Barry raced after Thawne, zigging and zagging through the streets of Central City, breaking the sound barrier as they neared the Ruby Bridge. He pushed himself, driving forward with anger, but couldn’t catch up to the villain. Was he letting his emotions get the best of him? He’d been slow on the uptake outside STAR Labs, too caught up in his rage and Thawne’s schemes.

He’s trying to replace me, but he’s going about it in a needlessly convoluted way. He doesn’t just want to win. He wants me to watch him do it; he wants the whole world to. Maybe there’s something there. Maybe I can use his pride, his emotions against him – but what then? Do I lock him up, sure to get out again, or do I end it ll? Do I end him?

Barry nearly stumbled into a car, lost in thought, and had to vibrate his way through the vehicle. He heard the briefest cackling before him. Thawne was still just playing with him.

Something struck Barry – hard. He toppled across the exit to Ruby Bridge and into oncoming traffic. Someone picked him up and threw him onto the rocky beach. Barry tried to roll back up, only for his assailant to pin him. Who—?

Max Mercury held him down by his throat, fist raised, tears in his eyes, teeth grinding. “This is for Jamie!”

“Max, wait!” Barry shouted. “It’s me—I’m the real Barry.”

Max gave his yellow suit a once-over. Barry instantly regretted not even attempting to change it back, though he had no idea how to do so. His friend scoffed. Azure lightning crackled across his fist as he tensed…

“The first conversation we had, you asked for rent!” Barry blurted. Max stayed still, which urged him on, “I’d been living with you for a week, and we hadn’t talked at all, and you wanted me to pay up, but I was short. In fact, I’m not sure I ever paid you.”

Max’s jaw hung loose. He lowered his hand, and offered it to Barry. “Shit, man, that’s all you had to say.”

Barry sighed with relief, and allowed his friend to help him up. “Thawne’s wearing my suit.”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he replied. The two looked around, but the villain was nowhere in sight. “Where the hell is he?”

…

Inside the back lab, Henry felt a twinge of guilt as he eyed the QPhone in his hand. He’d pickpocketed Chester earlier, a skill he picked up from his years on the street. Don’t know why I didn’t just ask for it. Barry’s friends could help me. They could… He sighed, and dialed the number. His thumb hovered over the call button. Was this worth it? It was a hail mary, an end-all solution.

He hit call, and pressed the phone to his ear. After a single ring, “Captain West, CCPD.”

“Hey, Joe,” Henry began, “It’s…”

“Henry?” Joe exclaimed. “Where the hell are you? You need to turn yourself in—”

“Why do you think I’m calling?” he said. “I’ll do it, I’ll turn myself in, but under one condition. There’s a boy missing, he’s been kidnapped. I want you to assign somebody to find him. He won’t be in your system. His name is Thaddeus Allen. Please don’t ask questions. Just…He’s an innocent kid caught up in all this Flash nonsense, and he needs your help.”

A pause. “You have my word. I’ll put a team together. What can you tell me about him?”

“Thank you, Joe. Thank you,” Henry was on the verge of tears, but he held himself together for Thaddeus. “He’s eighteen, short, about five-eight, got big, bright blue eyes, and black hair, black as night. And a lot of it, too.” A gust of wind blew through the room. Damn vents. He brushed his hair back into place. “He might be wearing a green jumpsuit, and he’s…”

A flash of red caught his eye. The blood drained from Henry’s face. He tightened his grip on the phone as he turned to face Barry…but that wasn’t his son. The crooked way he smiled, the malicious glint in his eyes, the damn straight way he carried himself—Barry almost always had a slight hunch from his years in crutches. This was Eobard Thawne.

“Henry? Henry??” Joe’s voice echoed into empty space.

An eerie calm washed over Henry as he realized, “This was your play. You wanted to pull my son out, so you could get to me.”

Thawne strutted forward, lowering his mask. “Damn, Papa Henry, you’re sharp. I really thought I was going to fool you, subvert your expectations, all that good stuff.”

“I know my son,” Henry spat.

“That’s absolutely wonderful,” said Thawne. “My old man never really ‘got’ me. Suppose I got some daddy issues to work out. I think this will be quite therapeutic.”

Henry tightened his hands into fists. He could hear Joe calling his name from the QPhone. “You killed my wife. You killed Nora—”

A spark, then Thawne had him by the throat. However, he didn’t choke Henry. He didn’t strike him. The villain just stroked his neck, and laughed when he flinched, dropping the phone.

“You know, I never held Nora any ill will. It’s not her bloodline that went bad, not really. Not her name anyway. But I just had to make Barry feel what I felt, live what I lived. And then, bonus points, I got to torture you, to send you off to die in prison,” Thawne chuckled at that. “But something went wonky in this timeline, and you got off scot-free. Well, that just wasn’t going to fly. Do you remember Jefferson Cleaver?”

Henry nodded, fear beginning to fill his veins with ice. Jefferson was one of the Children of the Lightning’s last victims. He’d been in the cult with Henry, and in fact recruited him to it.

“Well, I, shall we say, arranged your meeting. Lost what remained of my powers in the process, but it was worth it. I then took on the role of a certain prosecutor. Played my cards right. Lined up the pieces so that you’d end up exactly where I wanted you to be.” Suddenly, a grim frown crossed Thawne’s face. “And yet you got away again—”

Henry spat in his eye, causing the villain to flinch. He then grabbed his arm, twisted it around, and tried to pin it into a break. However, Thawne caught himself, and vibrated out of his grip.

“I’m not gonna make this easy on you,” Henry growled.

“No,” Thawne hissed. He raised his right hand, and it began to vibrate. “You never have.”

…

Barry and Max returned to STAR Labs to regroup. There, he learned what happened to Jamie. Max was on edge, but relatively stable. Gehenna, however, had taken it really hard. She’d gone into shock while they were gone. Dr. Elias had done what he could to comfort her, but she did not react to any kind words or offerings of food or drink. Max took over, but he didn’t have any success either.

Meanwhile, Chess and Cisco went outside to deal with the flood of reporters who had grown impatient after the conformation with the Rogues. They were, at Barry’s request, offering no comment on his identity, and only claimed Eobard Thawne was a fraud, a pawn used by the Rogues.

Barry asked after his father, but no one had seen him. That didn’t settle well with him. He sped around to the front, and discovered Iris by the entrance, muttering to herself about storms.

“When was the last time you slept?” Barry asked. She had bags under her eyes like an insomniac.

“I dunno, about a day ago. Not too bad,” she replied, then took a deep breath.

“Get some rest. There’s nothing you can do,” he said.

That clearly hurt her. She recoiled, red in the face, and yelled back, “Screw you, Barry!” However, before he could apologize, she softened. “I’m sorry. I…I need some space right now. Please.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Barry muttered. “I’ll just…go.”

He ran off with a heavy heart, continuing his search. At his speed, it took him a couple seconds to find his father. When he did, he lost control of himself, collapsing to his knees, mind blank. There was blood. So much blood, and…

Those eyes. Empty, like voids. Blank. His father’s eyes were full of strength. They were brown as the dirt, reassuring as a hug. Those weren’t his father’s eyes. They belonged to something else, something worse—a dead man. The void stared back at him, the blackness devouring his irises.

Then the eyes moved. They met his, and his dad spoke, weak, “Barry…”

Without time to waste, he picked his father up, and sped him to the operations lab. Frantic, he stumbled, and fell, sliding on his knees so that he could keep his father from hitting the ground. The others saw him at once. Even Gehenna’s glassy eyes traced his fall.

“Please—please…” Please help him. His father’s bloody hand caressed his cheek. Barry broke down completely.

Please let me have been fast enough.