#2: The Impossible Case

The Flash
#2: First Steps Part 2
"The Impossible Case"

The murder in question proved to be eerily similar to Nora Allen’s murder, at least at first glance. It took place in the middle of Central City suburbia in a small, two story house all too similar to Barry’s childhood home. The trek past curious neighbors and yellow tape reminded Barry of when he had been pulled from beside his mother’s corpse and into a police car by his father. Even the victim, as it turned out, was all too similar to Nora Allen.

“Worked as a waitress, early thirties, brunette. Jeez,” Barry muttered, reading the report.

Joe and Daniel West walked with him up to the house. All three slipped on gloves and Barry handed the report to a fellow CSI assistant before reluctantly allowing Daniel to help him add an additional plastic cover over his crutches. The three police officers entered the crime scene through the open doorway, the door itself blown off its hinges by the first responders.

“We’re not your dad, Barry. You can cut a little loose,” Daniel teased, only half joking.

“Danny…” Joe warned.

“What? We’re old friends. You were his dad’s partner. He shouldn’t be afraid to expand his vocabulary beyond ‘gosh,’ ‘golly,’ and ‘darn’ around us,” Daniel stated.

“Actually, I just prefer not to cuss,” Barry said, only partly listening in on the conversation. Most of his attention was focused on the crime scene around him. Even still, he managed to add an additional, “Usually.”

Daniel rolled his eyes at that comment, but didn’t push any further. Joe glared at his son for a moment before turning back to the scene at hand. He felt—for obvious reasons—it was necessary to change the subject.

“I really am sorry to drag you out here, Barry. I realize the victim, the entire scene, might be difficult to handle,” Joe admitted. “Honestly, if we had anyone else in the department with experience with this type of case, I wouldn’t have hesitated to save you the trouble.”

“It’s fine, really. Great, even,” Barry leaned over the corpse to examine it, before realizing what he had said. He shook his head. “Not the murder. The—“

“Case?” Daniel helped, before teasingly adding, “The murder case.”

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” Barry stammered.

“Tell me what you do know,” Joe requested, yet again forced to change the subject.

Barry nodded. This he could handle. “Victim died from blood loss from a single stab wound. At first glance, I’d guess the murder weapon was about six inches long. The angle of the wound dictates that the murderer has to be taller than the victim, maybe five-foot-ten, five-eleven.”

Daniel glanced at his father and nodded, impressed. Joe smirked.

Barry continued on further into the crime scene away from the body. Everything seemed prim and proper. “No signs of a struggle, meaning the victim was killed quickly. That’s odd, though. Stab wounds never result in an immediate death. The victim should have had time to call 911 or leave a message.”

“Unless she wasn’t murdered here,” Daniel added.

Barry looked back at the two Wests, curious. “The report stated Miss…Rory, correct?” Joe confirmed the statement with a nod. “Ms. Rory’s neighbors claim she never left her home during the day she was murdered. Saturday?” Joe nodded again. “So no work. It adds up.”

“Reports like that tend to be unreliable. It’s not like they watched her 24/7. Unless, of course, one of them is the murderer, in which case their report is definitely unreliable,” Daniel noted.

“True, but that point’s moot when you consider that the door and each window were locked from the inside. Nothing was broken. It would have been impossible for anyone to enter or exit,” Barry glanced at the captain, “You did check the house over, right?”

Joe glared at Barry incredulously, which was an answer in and of itself. The young CSI assistant gulped and continued, “So, there’s no serious evidence, no clues, nothing? The report is accurate?”

“Yes, Barry,” Joe agreed, slowly growing impatient.

“I don’t believe that,” Barry stated.

Daniel frowned. “Which part?”

Barry grinned, slightly amused, but quickly flipped his smile upside down as the others remained cold and quiet. They were detectives after all. This was the scene of a crime—a murder, no less.

“There has to be a clue somewhere,” Barry explained. “I firmly believe that was the case with my mother’s murder too. Nobody knew where to look or what to look for, is all.”

Barry looked around the room. Sure, there was no murder weapon, no fingerprints, no hint as to how the murderer could have entered or killed the victim, etc. There were no traditional clues. That didn’t prove anything.

Something caught Barry’s eye. He pointed to the ceiling. “The lights were off when Ms. Rory was found?”

Joe glanced at the ceiling, confused, and nodded, “We try to keep the scene as similar as possible to when the crime was committed.”

“But the lights were off when she was found, correct?” Barry reaffirmed.

Joe frowned. “Yes. That’s what I said.”

Barry smirked. “With all due respect, sir, no, it wasn’t. Daniel, turn the lights on.”

Daniel looked at his father for approval. Joe nodded. Daniel walked over to the light switch and flipped it. The lights flickered on and the three looked around the room for any clues that would present themselves.

“I can’t be the only one who sees that, right?” Barry asked, looking towards the ceiling at the edge of the room near a window.

Joe took a step towards Barry, matching his gaze, “Oh yeah. I see it.”

“Um...what? It’s a fried light bulb,” Daniel pointed out. “All it means is the victim either couldn’t afford to replace it, or just plain didn’t care.”

“There are no coincidences, Daniel. First rule of being a detective,” Joe said.

“This isn’t a coincidence. It’s—“

“A clue,” Barry interjected. Daniel sighed, ran a hand through his hair, but allowed the scientist to continue. “I guarantee when the autopsy is complete, we’ll discover Ms. Rory was murdered in the nighttime. Most people have poor night vision, and therefore need lights at night to see. The murderer turned off the lights to hide that light bulb—that clue.”

“That’s a big ‘if’ there, Barry. What if the autopsy report shows she died during the day?” Daniel asked.

“That still doesn’t preclude the idea that she’d have the lights on.”

“It’s a fried bulb. There’s no way it has anything to do with a stabbing. It’s impossible.”

“Yes, and you asked me to examine this case because I believe in the impossible,” Barry retorted. However, even he had doubts. The forensic scientist turned to look at Joe. “Dan’s got a point, though. It’s unlikely. Send in an actual CSI. I’ll go investigate elsewhere.”

“I don’t want you off this case, Barry,” Joe said.

“Oh, I’m not dropping this case for the world. I have a lead, and I’m going to see it all the way through. That means I need to stop by STAR Labs,” Barry explained.

Joe wasn’t quite sure how to take that statement. The organization wasn’t exactly known for forensics work. Either way… “Fine. But until you have more to go on, we’ll have to keep this between the three of us.”

“Keep what between us? What the hell is going on?” Daniel asked, completely lost.

Barry began to limp out of the room. “Our two clues are that the murderer could not have entered through any ordinary, feasible entrance, and the fried light bulb.”

“You think they entered through a light?” Daniel muttered, dumbfounded.

“No, but I think that in the process of their…” Barry struggled for the right words. “Superhuman entry, they blew out the bulb.”

“Great. Super science. Next you’ll tell me Gotham’s Batman is real,” Daniel grumbled.

Barry shrugged. “Actually…”

Before he could continue, or Daniel could interrupt, a man stormed into the house. The intruder in question was about Dan’s height, so close to six feet tall, had deeply tanned skin, and long, scraggly black hair that made it seem like he hadn’t gotten it cut in months. He practically exuded panic as he entered the home, making his relationship to the deceased all too obvious to Barry.

“D-Dana—“ The man stammered, looking through the open doorway into the kitchen. Barry grimaced.

Two cops entered right after the man, pulling him back out of the house before he could investigate the body further. The intruder thrashed in their arms, trying to break free.

He cried, “Let me go! That’s my sister in there!! LET ME GO!!”

It took the two cops handcuffing him before he finally calmed down.

Barry offered a sympathetic glance to the man as he exited the house, and removed his crutches’ plastic wrapping with the help of another cop, while Joe and Dan followed shortly behind, both more confused than empathetic.

“Relative of the victim?” Barry asked for clarification.

The first cop that apprehended the man nodded, while the other held him down. “Says he’s the victim’s brother, Mick.”

“Wait, Mick Rory?” Dan interjected, suddenly recognizing the man. The cop nodded. Dan frowned, continuing, “I busted him on an arson case a couple years back. First week on the job.”

By now, Mick’s captor had dragged him onto his feet. The supposed arsonist looked at Dan, his eyes alight with equal fury and grief, “And I ain’t mad about it at all. I’m better now, West. Saw a doctor in Iron Heights. Helped me cool my head.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Dan said, shaking his head. He nodded the cop off. “Take him downtown.”

The two cops did as they were told, leading Mick away, much to his chagrin. Barry regrettably watched the man go, while Joe glanced at Dan, unsure of what to say. Eventually, he cleared his head and spoke up.

“People can change, Dan,” Joe said.

“That’s what they’d like you to think. Truth is, deep down most people never change; they just fake it till they make it,” Dan retorted, walking off.

Barry frowned. ‘Sounds about right, Daniel. Once a bully, always a bully.’

…

Daniel’s story is…complex. I’ll leave it at that for now. What I didn’t know then, and wouldn’t know for years to come, was just how important he’d be to my life as not just Barry Allen, or a CSI, but a hero—

Again, I’m getting ahead of myself. Gotta stay on track.

The rest of my work day was spent ignoring my co-workers’ angry glares, chatting with Patty, and anxiously awaiting more news about the case. Joe had a vet CSI, James Forrest, handle the case publically, while I had to wait till I was off-duty to investigate the…supernatural side of things.
…

When Barry returned home, he rather unsurprisingly discovered Max sitting at his usual spot, typing away on his laptop. Even still, he offered a simple “Hello,” to which Max didn’t respond. Barry sighed disappointedly, and continued into his bedroom.

The room in question practically oozed Barry. What his father had cheekily dubbed his ‘nerd collection,’ or his assortment of Flash comic books and superhero action figures. was boarded and arranged on a shelf all to itself. His copies of sci fi books, Neil DeGrasse Tyson’s novels, and other forms of prose literature occupied another small bookshelf. Two posters—one of the comic book Flash, and the other of Einstein—stared at him from over his bed, saying, “Make today a heroic day,” and “Learn from yesterday, live for today, and hope for tomorrow,” respectively.

Barry let loose a deep breath, something he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. First day on the job, and it had been both long and exciting, which just about described having to work after hours to go visit STAR Labs. Barry grabbed his laptop from atop his bed, packed it into a bag, and then snagged his personal forensics case. He checked his phone for the weather.

“100% chance of storms. Great,” Barry muttered, grabbing his raincoat. Then, he headed back out of the room.

“Barry.”

The blond froze in shock after he discovered Max waiting for him around the corner. He shook off the surprise and smiled. “Yeah?”

“I’ve never really introduced myself,” Max continued in monotone.

Barry waved the comment off, “Don’t worry about it. We’ve both been busy.”

“Yeah,” Max nodded. Silence fell over the room, draping it awkwardly. “Name’s Max Missichkonne. Call me Max Mercury. Everyone does.”

“Missichkonne’s fine,” Barry assured.

“Mercury’s better,” Max spat back.

“Right. Max Mercury,” Barry agreed, nodding. He bit back the obvious question: why now?

Max seemed to have it on his mind, anyway, as he continued, “So…rent?”

Barry forced back a sigh, and reached into his pants pocket for his wallet. Of course. Max just needed his portion of the rent. Now that money was involved, knowing one another was inevitable.

Barry handed Max a few twenties. “I’ll give you the rest when I get paid in a week.”

“Whatever, man.” Max took the money and returned to his laptop.

Barry glanced after him once, shook his head, and continued out of the apartment. So, a difficult roommate, a job where he was either coddled or hated by his co-workers, and an impossible case. Barry didn’t have a lot going for him. As if a disability and a dead mother weren’t enough…

“Stop it,” he quietly growled to himself. He’d long since tried to shove all thoughts of self-pity out of his mind. Sometimes it just wasn’t that easy. Sometimes trying to be strong just made it worse.

As Barry neared the elevator, he began to fumble for his cellphone to look up the closest Chinese takeout, which proved to be difficult, even for a man who’d grown up with the need for crutches. In fact, he ended up dropping his phone, and it just so happened that as he did so, a woman also found herself engrossed in her own cell, typing frantically into it as she quickly approached the elevator. Neither saw the other. Both couldn’t stop what was coming.

The woman walked into Barry, knocking him over, and immediately it was like someone turned on a faucet. Apologies poured out of their mouths.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t—“

“My God, I’m stupid. I didn’t see you—“

Barry Allen looked up to see Iris West’s beautiful brown eyes for the first time in years. Neither knew what to say for a moment. Barry couldn’t help himself as he began to chuckle, and then erupted into full on laughter. Iris soon joined in.

When the two had finally settled down, Iris offered Barry her hand. His mood instantly darkened and he looked away, biting his lip. Barry waved her off. Using one of his crutches for support, he attempted to stand on his own, but only ended up tumbling back onto the ground.

“Barry—”

Reluctantly, he allowed Iris to help him back up. It had been over ten years and nothing had changed. He still couldn’t stand on his own. Drowning in embarrassment and frustration, Barry let Iris speak first.

“Are you okay?” she asked, to which he nodded, ‘yes.’ She continued, awkwardly chuckling, “I never imagined we’d run into each other like this.”

“I hear you. This was…a surprise,” Barry admitted, forcing a smile.

“God, look at you, Barry. All grown up.” Iris gave him a once-over. “It’s been, what—“

“Five years,” Barry interjected, blushing. “Haven’t seen each other since graduation.”

“That long? Wow.” After a moment, “You went to Keystone, right?”

“Yeah. And you?” Barry asked, although he knew the answer. He could never forget Iris West.

“Metropolis U,” Iris explained, “Journalism degree.”

“So, is that why you’re back? Working for Channel 9?” Barry said.

Iris let out a weak chuckle. She looked away as her laugh morphed into a sigh, “I wish. I have a job at the Citizen.”

Barry jumped in, aware this was a touchy subject, “That’s great! The Citizen’s a heck of a newspaper!”

“Yeah,” Iris nodded, “But who reads newspapers anymore?”

Silence lingered over the two. Barry didn’t know what to say. He’d already screwed up the conversation enough. So, when it became too much, he went with what felt natural.

“Well, I’m working with the CCPD as a forensics assistant,” Barry stated.

Iris looked up and smiled. “Really? That’s awesome, Barry! I know that’s been a dream of yours forever.”

“Yeah, it’s…nice,” Barry half-lied. He wasn’t about to mention the downside of the job.

“So, you never really answered my question: what brought you back to Central City?” Barry continued, trying to change the subject.

Iris’ eyes darkened again, but to Barry it seemed like she exuded a whole different type of sadness than before—less disappointment, and more weariness.

“My brother…my older brother, Ira, actually passed away last year,” Iris explained.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Iris. I had no idea,” Barry stammered.

“It’s fine. We’ve…kind of kept it quiet. I doubt my dad’s even told your father,” Iris continued, somehow managing to meet Barry’s gaze. “Yeah, it was…sudden. Ira and his girlfriend were driving drunk, and…you can imagine.”

“That’s awful,” Barry said.

Iris nodded. “Worst part is they had a kid. Left him all alone. Dad’s raising him, but with Mom gone, he thought he’d need a ‘woman’s touch.’ He thought he’d need me.”

“I’m so sorry.” Barry did something that back in high school he could never even have imagined doing. He embraced Iris, using her to steady himself as he wrapped his arms around her. She returned the hug in kind, nuzzling into his shoulder. “If there’s anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks, Barry. That…means a lot,” Iris whispered.

The two parted. Barry managed a slight smile. “Any time of the day, I’m free. Shouldn’t be hard to find me, right? We live in the same building.”

Iris chuckled slightly. “Actually, I was just visiting—”

Suddenly, Iris’ phone went off. She looked down at it, frowned, and then glanced back up at Barry. “Shit. It’s my boss. I have to go, Barry. I’m sorry. We can catch up some more later.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Barry said.

“Bye!” Iris said, running past Barry to the stairway as she answered her phone.

The blond, meanwhile, grimaced, and pressed the ‘down’ button for the elevator.

“Bye…”

After the doors opened, he stumbled inside, only to remember at the last second that his phone was still on the ground outside the elevator. Barry tried to use his crutch to stop the doors from closing, but couldn’t move fast enough.

Frustrated beyond measure, Barry leaned back against the wall, looked up, and whispered, “Nice going, Allen.”

…

A little over an hour later, Barry emerged from a small Chinese restaurant with a bag of lo mein and steamed rice in hand, his left crutch awkwardly stuffed into his armpit to steady itself. Chilled rain pattered down over him, matting his hair to his forehead and causing shivers to run down his spine. Lightning flashed and thunder roared overhead. Barry limped forward and ordered an Uber.

He directed the driver to STAR Labs’ regional headquarters in downtown Central City as he ate his dinner. When he arrived, Barry thanked the driver, and exited the vehicle. After spotting a shivering homeless man at the edge of an alley, Barry offered him his leftovers, which he gratefully accepted, and then continued up the marble steps to STAR Labs.

The warm, dry building proved a welcome escape from the storm, and Barry took a moment to steady himself before he approached the front desk. A pretty brunette gave him a sympathetic look before she faux-happily greeted him with a “Hello, how can I help you?”

“Hi.” Barry produced his police badge. “I’m with the CCPD. I was wondering if I could speak to Dr. Elias.”

“Is something wrong?” the woman asked, suddenly tense.

“No. I mean yes. But Dr. Elias isn’t in trouble,” Barry stammered.

“Barry?”

Both the secretary’s and Barry’s gazes were drawn to the new arrival. Max Mercury stepped through the doorway, pulling back his sweatshirt’s hood to reveal his buzzed head and scruffy beard.

“Why’re you here?” Max asked.

Barry couldn’t help but feel a frown come on. “Work. You?”

“Work,” Max bluntly stated.

Before Barry could reply, the secretary explained, “Mr. Miss…er, Mercury is Dr. Elias’ personal assistant.”

Barry mouthed, “No way,” and turned back to Max.

“You here to see Elias?” Max asked.

“Could you introduce me? I’ve got a really important case—“

“On day one?” Max interrupted. So, Max did pay attention to Barry. He knew today had only been his first day on the job.

“Yeah,” Barry nodded. “It’s kind of complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it,” Max said.

“Really, I can get you through,” the secretary began.

Barry glanced back at her. “It’s fine.” And then to Max, “There was a murder. No clues. It’s an impossible case.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Keep talking and I’ll take you to him.”

Barry smirked. “Deal.”

From there, everything became quite simple. Max used his ID badge to get Barry through to the labs, while the blond explained everything he knew about the impossible case, including the additional details about Mick Rory, the arsonist.

“So, you think the brother did it?” Max asked, for the first time showing interest in Barry’s life.

The two walked past a handful of scientists experimenting on a blue gel; Barry nodded at them in passing, and he continued, “No. He seemed genuinely upset.”

“The crazies always do. Plus, you heard West. He’s a criminal,” Max said. “Maybe he had a key to the house.”

“The doors were locked from the inside, meaning the safety chain was pulled too,” Barry said.

“So, the brother’s got superpowers, and used ‘em to get in,” Max said.

Barry froze for a moment outside a door, as Max continued into the next room. “That was my guess!”

“Relax, Barry. I was joking,” Max replied.

Barry’s face fell. “Oh.”

The two quieted for a moment, as Max led Barry through one last public room, before he had to use a new ID card to unlock the last door. It led to an enormous room littered with the type of tech Barry had only dreamed of. At the center of it all sat something Barry had read about for ages: an enormous machine shaped like a donut with a glowing blue core—the Blackout Generator. At its base, a lone scientist worked ceaselessly, his mop of brown hair slicked back and his face just beginning to wrinkle.

Elsewhere, at different tables and machines, two younger scientists focused in on their own projects. The first, an obese black man even younger than Barry, had close cropped dark hair and sat bent over what looked like a metal disk. He ignored the two as they entered, unable to hear them due to the headphones that rested over his ears. The other scientist, a petite Asian woman about Barry’s age, stood up from her biochemical gas project to greet the two.

“Max, you brought a friend,” she said, before adding, “I didn’t know you had friends.”

“Classic burn, Gehenna. Well done,” Max retorted.

Gehenna smirked and turned to the other two scientists. “Dr. Elias! Chess! We have company!!”

Both distracted individuals perked up at the sound of their names. Elias appeared far less enthusiastic about Barry’s arrival than Chess, who immediately tossed his headphones to the side and rushed to greet the blond.

“Yo, name’s Chess Runk, short for Chester. The Chess, that is, not the Runk,” the young man stammered, shaking Barry’s hand.

“Barry Allen,” the blond pleasantly greeted.

“Barry’s a CSI,” Max added.

“Police scientist, actually,” Barry muttered, as Chester exclaimed, “Really? Sweet!”

“Great,” Elias muttered to himself as he approached the blond. He put on his best faux-smile. “How can I help you, Mr. Allen?”

“I need your help with a murder case,” Barry explained.

“I’m afraid we won’t do your job for you,” Elias shot back.

Barry frowned. It turned out Darwin Elias, his pseudo-idol, was a jerk. “I just have a few questions for you.”

Elias sighed, and continued sarcastically, “By all means, ask away.”

The three young scientists had, meanwhile, begun to shrink back in embarrassment, or amusement, rather, in Max’s case. However, Gehenna summoned the courage to jump in.

“I can help you, Barry, if Dr. Elias is busy,” Gehenna said.

“And busy I am,” Elias grumbled, turning away.

“Right. Fine,” Barry agreed, forcing a smile and extending a hand.

“And you thought I was a dick,” Max whispered into his ear as he shook Gehenna’s hand.

“Nice to meet you…Gehenna?”

“Call me Gen,” Gehenna said. Barry nodded in thanks, and the woman led him off towards the ramp that overlooked the generator. Chester and Max hurried just behind.

“So, what’s this about a murder? And why do you need our help?” Chester asked.

“It’s an impossible case. No noticeable clues, except for a blown out light bulb. I was wondering if you’d have heard of any person…or being that could, I don’t know, phase through walls, or conduct electricity.”

“A super murder? Sweet,” Chester said. Upon looks from the others, he frowned. “I mean, that sucks. …Y’know what? I’ll just go now.”

Gehenna nodded Chester off, and the young man hurried back to his table.

“Tt. You see what I have to deal with on a daily basis,” Max muttered.

Gehenna ignored the cold comment, continuing, “So, what were you saying about…powers?”

Barry nodded. “I studied theoretical physics, meta physics, metaphysiology, all of that in college. There are stories of people who can do…incredible things. Impossible things.”

“C’mon, Barry. This is the real world, not a comic book. Superheroes don’t exist,” Max said.

Barry frowned, “Actually, there are videos of a flying man…”

Gehenna spoke up before Max could, putting a hand on Barry’s shoulder, “I’ll look into it. Is there anything else we can do to help?”

Barry smiled slightly, stepping back to lean against the ramp’s railing. “Thanks. I think that’s all I need. Like Dr. Elias said, it’s my job.”

“Well, we’re here whenever you need help,” Gehenna said.

Max smirked, “Yeah. I’d love to hear all about your other crazy, impossible theories.”

“Max—“

Barry interrupted, “It’s fine. I know it sounds crazy. I know I sound crazy. I just…have a reason to believe in the impossible.”

Gehenna’s eyes darkened with worry. “And why’s that?”

KKSH!!

All at once, faster than anyone in the room could process, lightning crashed through the glass roof, angled directly towards Barry. The young scientist managed to look up right before the bolt struck him, sending him hurtling over the railing and down into the Blackout Generator’s core. Barry fell right through the glass separating the core from the rest of the world, causing a chain reaction that resulted in the generator’s explosion, as blue light arced across the room, out the broken window, and over the city.

In the midst of all the chaos and destruction lay a very broken, very burned Barry Allen. He did not and could not move, even as tiny yellow sparks flickered over his skin.

…

And so it began—a journey, an idea, a change that altered the course of my life forever.