archimedes |b. allen|

mothers, daughters, sons, fathers

mothers, daughters, sons, fathers

Coming in at the very last second, I get to hear, "Today's special: a city in ashes. The Trickster proudly welcomes you all to the new disorder."

I try to quietly slip in beside Cisco, taking my usual seat on the table in the corner and setting down my purse as the long haired man says, "Talking in the third person, that's never a good sign."

"You're just mad because he named himself," Caitlin quips.

"Actually, he didn't," Detective West turns around, giving me a soft smile when his eyes land on me. "Twenty years ago, Central City was hit by a series of terrorist attacks. One man killed at least ten civilians, two cops. That guy called himself The Trickster."

Cisco types as Detective West speaks, finding the criminal record of the original Trickster and a few photos to throw on the screens at the front. "Whoa, someone was rocking the unitard."

"I love the nineties," I say, more to myself, but Cisco turns to shoot me a finger gun in agreement.

"James Jesse?" Caitlin reads aloud.

"Like Jesse James, only more twisted," Detective West adds.

"Where is this Mr. Jesse now?" Dr. Wells asks.

Joe huffs, "He's serving several life sentences in Iron Heights. He was just about the most dangerous thing Central City had ever seen."

"You mean until the particle accelerator blew up?" Barry's brows are furrowed, and if I'm being honest, he almost looks annoyed.

I grimace at his words, the delivery was maybe more harsh than he meant. Even still, he was in a room with three people who dedicated their entire life's work to that failed technology.

Detective West, sensing everyone's discomfort announces that he and Barry will go interview the original Trickster in Iron Heights. Barry is the first one out of the Cortex, not even waiting for Joe.

Okay, something's up.

Hopping down from the table, I cringe at the slight twinge of pain in my side before following after Barry down the hall, but he's already gone.

As I pull out my phone to ask if he's alright, I get my own text from him.

B Allen

Your eye is looking better.

Weird.

But not wrong. All of my bruises were starting to yellow and reabsorb back to normal. Even the puffiness of my face was almost undetectable at this point, which was a stark improvement from three days ago when my eye was swollen shut. The stitches came out yesterday, too.

is everything okay

But I received no reply.

Barry was keeping secrets, and time had proven he was terrible at doing just that.

⚡︎

"You look like shit."

"It is so great to see you, Maude. Are those new shoes?" I sarcastically quip back, ignoring her bluntness as I let her and Bennie into my apartment.

"They are!" Maude does a little twirl, taking off her coat and hanging it on the rack, Bennie has already made it to the bowl of chips on the coffee table, grabbing a handful and throwing herself back on the couch.