archimedes |b. allen|

plan d

plan d

"Was that supposed to hurt?" Barry taunts, brows raised with a shit-eating grin.

"Want me to make it hurt?" I play into his hand, challenging him with a quirked brow.

"You can try," he says with a playful glint in his eye.

This little fucker.

I glare at him through the slits of my eyes. Winding up my fist, I increase the density in my fingertips, knuckles, hand, wrist, tenfold, before letting it go.

There's an echoing crunch in the training room, one that immediately elicits the sound of rolling chairs moving across the floor and the familiar clicking of Caitlin's heels.

"Uh, ow," Barry shakes out his gloved right hand, the one I'd just managed to land a punch on and probably shattered his wrist. He'd been jumping out of the way at the exact right time like he always does when we're training and he starts to get bored.

I shrug, not feeling any sympathy for him. I take a step back, lifting my water bottle to my lips as I take in his pinched and pained expression. I wipe my mouth with the back of my taped hand as I huff, "Hurt now?"

His expression doesn't change as his other hand starts to rub his injured wrist. Caitlin marches into the training room, eyes darting between Barry, me, and then to Barry's wrist before she narrows her eyes at me. "Sam!"

"He started it," I quickly throw the blame back on Barry, whose mouth drops open in playful shock.

"Sam, this isn't the first time... Barry, go get ready for x-ray," Caitlin sighs.

"You're absolutely correct; this is the fourth time," I give a half grimace, half smile to Caitlin and Barry both, as the latter mopes, still cradling his wrist as he leaves the training room to get to med bay.

As soon as Barry is out of the room, Caitlin is dramatically mouthing to me, 'What the heck was that?'

'He asked for it!' my eyes are wide as I silently respond to her.

'You broke his wrist! Again!'

'He was making fun of me!'

"What are you two doing?" Cisco appears in the doorway of the training room, obviously puzzled by our silent screaming match.

Caitlin clears her throat across from me while I start unwrapping my hands, "Oh, you know, just girly things, nothing much, you know."

His eyes narrow to slits, "Right. Anyway, I—"

"Guys, get out here. You need to see this," Barry's voice draws the three of us out of the training room, where we find him stood in front of the monitors in the heart of the Cortex.

"Flash-y the red-nosed speedster," the distinguishable voice of the Trickster comes from the monitors, hair wild and eyes even crazier as he sings his own rendition of Rudolph. "And his Archimedes too. And if you ever saw them, you might even want to puke."

"He's a little flat, don't you think?" Cisco asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

My eyes float from the screen to Barry, who's watching intently as the Trickster gags, an evil smirk on his lips. I know this guy pissed Barry off the most. He tried to kill Henry. Hell, he almost did.

"Merry Christmas, kiddie-winks. I'm back!" the Trickster continues. Citizens, you know, the holidays can be a time for gentle reflection on the year past. Our ups and downs, our triumphs and heartaches, but don't forget, it can also be a time for disemboweling our enemies."