Walking into his newly rented home, Barry set down the box full of his belongings. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and when he pulled it out, he saw a message from Joe:
Joe: Did you arrive at your place?
Instead of texting back, Barry tapped Joe's contact and held the phone to his ear. After two rings, Joe answered.
"I just got to my new place," Barry told him.
"I have to ask, why move out?" Joe pressed. Over the past few days, Barry had been avoiding their shared home as much as possible. "Are you uncomfortable with Iris bringing her boyfriend around?"
"No, well, not exactly," Barry admitted. "Joe, it just feels like I'm taking advantage of you. I feel guilty." The words sounded hollow even to him.
The truth was, he wanted space so he could use his speed without anyone noticing.
Joe chuckled softly. "Why would you feel that way? You're my son. There's no need to feel guilty."
"I've lived with you since I was a kid," Barry pointed out. "I don't want to be a burden."
"You're not a burden," Joe assured him. "You're family."
"That's exactly why I'm moving out," Barry insisted. "I don't want my father to keep taking care of me forever."
Joe smiled at Barry's words. "Alright, you win. But if you need anything, just call me."
"Cool," Barry agreed. "Bye, Joe."
"See you at CCPD later," Joe reminded him before hanging up.
Barry unfolded the futon he had bought earlier, too lazy to get more furniture. A few essentials were all he needed to live comfortably.
'I'm gonna miss sleeping in a real bed,' he thought.
Then, activating his tachyon device prototype, he sped off to the S.T.A.R. Labs workshop in a blur of super-speed. Without hesitation, he phased through the walls and stepped inside casually.
As Barry worked on his prototype, he heard footsteps echoing through S.T.A.R. Labs.
He froze, quickly shutting off the lights before moving silently into the shadows, waiting for the intruder to pass by the workshop.
When the figure walked past the entrance, Barry recognized him instantly.
'Captain Cold, huh?'
Moving with practiced stealth, Barry slipped behind the man and locked him in a chokehold, knocking him out in seconds.
"Dude, you should've been more careful," Barry said, giving Leonard Snart, aka the future Captain Cold, a light slap on the cheek. "You never know what kind of monster might be lurking in this place."
He hauled Snart's unconscious body over his shoulder, flipped the lights back on, and dumped him into a chair in the workshop. After confiscating every weapon on him, Barry secured Snart's wrists and ankles with reinforced metal restraints.
Then, he calmly returned to his prototype.
About an hour later, Snart stirred, blinking awake. He tested the restraints, straining against the metal, but it held firm. When he looked up, he saw a figure in a skull mask tinkering with equipment, Barry, playing around. No way he'd reveal his identity to a criminal.
"Oh, baby boy's awake," Barry taunted, modulating his voice. "How'd your little Star Labs heist plan work out for you?"
Snart scowled, irritated at being caught off guard.
"So, what do you want from me?" he reasoned. "If you wanted to turn me in, you would've done it already,"
"Good guess, but wrong. There's nothing you can offer me right now," Barry replied.
"Then what's the point of this?" Snart demanded.
"Time," Barry said simply. "I want time. Can you give me that?"
Snart's brow furrowed in confusion, clearly thinking Barry was insane.
"See? You can't even provide that," Barry said with a shrug before resuming his work.
Snart sat in silence, baffled by the lack of action against him. Minutes dragged on before he finally broke.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked.
"Honestly? I'm too lazy to haul you to CCPD," Barry admitted. "Also, go back to sleep."
Before Snart could react, Barry strode over. Their eyes met for a split second, then Barry's fist connected with Snart's jaw, knocking him out cold.
. . . .
The Next Morning,
Barry yawned as he held his cup of coffee. Then, he overheard a few officers talking.
"We found Leonard Snart, the wanted criminal, right outside our door."
"Really?"
"I guess it must be the Scarlet Speedster."
"Yeah, probably him but shouldn't we call him the Windbreaker? He defeated a tornado by himself."
"Nah, I'd go with the Red Tornado."
"Those are too simple. We should name him after a Greek god, something like Hermes or Mercury. It suits him."
The other three immediately shot down the idea. "That's a terrible name, newbie. Try again."
Barry chuckled at their conversation.
He headed straight to the forensic lab and started his day job. As he worked, he hummed a tune and bobbed his head to the rhythm.
About ten minutes later, someone entered the forensic lab, a woman who didn't live in the city. She had blonde hair, wore glasses, and was none other than Barry's friend, Felicity Smoak.
"Hi, Barry," Felicity said, waving.
Barry glanced up. "Hi, Felicity." He pushed back from his chair and pulled her into a hug, which she returned.
"Why didn't you message me when you woke up?" Felicity scolded, swatting his arm.
"I was busy," Barry admitted. "Had a lot of work to catch up on."
Felicity crossed her arms. "I'll accept that excuse, but why no call?"
"My phone got fried by lightning, and I lost everyone's numbers, including yours," Barry explained. "What, did you expect me to march over to Starling City? I'm barely keeping my life together as it is. Just got a new place."
Felicity sighed. "I'm sorry. So, what have you been up to?"
"Studying whatever I can. Also picked up MMA, if you care."
"Is this because of Oliver?" she asked.
Barry shrugged. "You could say that. We can grab lunch when my break starts, if you want."
Felicity smiled. "It's okay, I'd rather watch you work."
'Fuuuuuck. Now I have to move at a snail's pace. I hate this woman,' Barry thought, irritation flaring.
'Guess training's off the table today.'
Felicity settled into the seat beside him as he resumed work. Every second dragged like torture.
'Fuck me, man. This is unbearable.'
His forced slow pace made him want to scream, but his face stayed blank, hands mechanically handling evidence.
Felicity, however, watched with fascination. She marveled at how he juggled reports and lab tests at once. He looked rougher now more solid. When he rolled up his sleeves, the lean muscle of his forearms flexed under the light.
A few hours later, Barry was working while Felicity chimed in to help whenever digital evidence was involved.
"Felicity, doesn't this seem off?" Barry asked, gesturing at the picture.
"Yeah, it looks edited," Felicity mused, already typing. A few seconds later, she leaned back. "Got it, here's the original."
"Nice," Barry said, grinning. "We can close the case with this." He glanced at the clock. "Let's grab some food."
"Sure," Felicity agreed, slinging her handbag over her shoulder as Barry shrugged on his jacket.