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morallygreysimp · 1 year

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THE FLASH…II

CHAPTER NINE: PROGENY

TW: mention of grave injuries, anxiety and panic attacks, blood, violence, paralysis and weapons

The red, flickering light was giving Barry a headache. And loud noise was worsening it. The collected façade he had put on crumbled as the rapid beeping of the monitor next to him melted in with sound of the alarm, creating a strident and discordant cacophony.

His heart was hammering against his ribs, preventing his lungs from inhaling the needed amount of air. Barry could feel his entire body vibrate with anxiety. Every muscle, every bone, every single cell that composed his anatomy was palpitating. Barry felt small yet powerful shocks of electricity travel from a finger to another, as he clenched his jaw so hard that he could hear his teeth scraping against one another.

Barry knew what it meant, the siren and the scarlet light. He knew it too well. Last time it rang he ended up trapped in a hospital bed, poked by five different needles and attached to as many monitors. He was almost completely sure he couldn't feel his legs properly.

But that wasn't the source of his worry. Surprisingly.

The source of the despicable feeling itching under his skin was Oliver.

Oliver who had run out at the hideous sound.

Oliver who was currently speeding through the city's busy streets with murderous intents clouding his mind.

Oliver who was out there, risking his life for him. Because of him.

Oliver was a talented fighter. A skilled archer. He was cunning, intelligent, observant. He was a quick thinker, witty and reflective. But Zoom? Barry was used to confront metahumans. One could say he was used to confront Zoom. Sure he wasn't good at it, but he was used to it. But Zoom was fast. In all its meanings. He could reach what Barry considered impossible goals. He was cruel, malicious, villainous. He was pure evil.

Zoom was a monster.

"Cisco!"

His voice scratched its way out.

"Cisco!"

His friend barged into the room. Barry was trying to get out of the bed, clearly struggling to do so. Cisco hurried towards him with a wheelchair. He put his arm around his friend torso and rapidly transferred him to the chair. Caitlin was protesting in the background, but her words were a blur to Barry. All he could hear was the alarm and his thoughts, running almost as fast as him.

It was excruciatingly upsetting waiting by the computers. Not a red dot moving through the city's map. Not a signal from the satellite. Not a sign from the com-link. An anguished silence embraced the room. Everyone stayed immobile in their positions. Cisco's grip on the wheelchair loosened. Iris hand remained on the keyboard. Joe didn't dare to move from the doorway.

Nothing happened. It was as if time had stopped running. The world had stopped. Not ever air moved around them. Everything was frighteningly still.

The horrendous quietness squeezed Barry's lungs. He abruptly clenched the wheels of the chair and sprinted towards the desk. He not so gently shoved Iris and Caitlin away and feverishly started typing something, anything that could possibly give him a sign that Oliver was at least still alive.

Joe stepped away from the entrance and approached carefully his son. He had raised him, he had been blessed with the chance to see Barry at his highest and cursed with opportunity to console him through his lowest.

But that. That psychotic reaction. That unhinged behaviour. He had never seen him like that. Joe was pretty sure he had never witnessed anyone act like that.

"Bear" he tried to say in a calming manner.

The boy turned towards him, his eyes darted frenetically around the room as he panted heavily. He looked mad.

"Don't"

Joe had never heard Barry's voice sound do shrill and aggressive. Until then he had firmly believed Barry was incapable of such rage.

He was a traumatised kid, he had developed quite severe anger issues in high school. He had lashed out at Joe before. But never like that.

His voice had been harsh, it had dripped with fury before. But never like that. It had never been so violent, so bitter. It had never been so rabid and infuriated.

Joe wasn't given the time to react. Barry had already turned back to the screens and was once again typing incoherent numbers, hoping that would solve something.

Perhaps it did. They couldn't be sure. But something happened.

"Is that?" Caitlin mumbled to herself.

"It's impossible"

The others turned to her out of confusion.

"What?" Iris spoke for the first time since the call she made days before. Everyone turned to the young doctor.

"When" she stuttered out slowly.

"When Zoom first appeared, Cisco and I decided to upgrade the S.T.A.R labs' satellite to possibly be able to trace speedsters. We use it on Barry and of course Zoom. But"

She then paused. Caitlin was never one for dramatic, long movie-like pauses.

And it was quite obvious she wasn't starting a new habit now.

"But what Caitlin" Barry harshly commanded.

"But the speedster it has traced just now... it isn't zoom"

Barry's heart jump to his throat and then sink down to his stomach. He physically felt the blood drain from his face. For the first time after the lightning and the coma, Barry wished he wasn't gifted with that power. For the first time in over a year, Barry considered his speed a curse. Not a gift, not a casualty, a curse.

How he wished he had never gone back to his lab that night. How he desired to be that he still had one life. One simple, boring, normal life.

But he didn't. He had gone back to his lab that night. He had a second fast, dynamic, adrenaline inducing life. And he was sitting on a wheelchair in the middle of the former most important laboratories of the state, trying to suppress his anxiety while his breath shortened for perhaps the fifth time that day.

"Bear" the soft whisper that shattered the silence forcefully pulled Barry out of his hurricane of thoughts.

"Ollie"

Barry's tried to move but he was paralysed. Quite literally.

Before he could process that, Oliver sprinted away from the door.

"There's another one" he ranted

"Another speedster. A girl. A young one, not older than 14. She- she was, I don't know, terrifying.

She appeared out of nowhere, she seemed to have history with Zoom. But he didn't. She said something like "know me yet". It was all a blur. She was incredibly quick and violent.

She called herself the flash"

The team wasn't granted the time to respond or react.

"Because I am" an orphic voice claimed. A thin, short unknown figure was leaning against the wall. The delicate features that picked under the vibrant red mask appeared slightly battered. A dried streak of dark vermillion blood stained her left nostril, melting in with the purpurin bruise under her chin.

The white and scarlet leather hugged her body like a second skin.

She had a snarky smirk plastered on her face, in great contrast with the look in her eyes. Soft, melancholic. Stunned even.

She suddenly took her mask off, moving the reddish hair out of her sight. She seemed awfully familiar. But Barry didn't know why. He couldn't recognise her. She was like a itch one can't scratch.

Then she spoke again. Voice low, almost a whisper.

"I'm Nora Queen-Allen, and I'm your daughter from 20 years in the future."

#barry x oliver #oliver x barry #olivarry #barry allen #oliver queen #the green arrow #the flash #nora allen #nora #original character #original child character #caitlin snow #cisco ramon #iris west #joe west #dc comics #jay garrick #felicity smoak

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morallygreysimp · 11 months

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THE FLASH…II

CHAPTER TEN: OKAY

TW: mention of blood, grave injuries, weapons, trauma, allusions to death and suicide attempt, dangerous and violent actions, medical talk

No one dared to speak. No one dared to move. No one even dared to breathe. Nora’s words hang in the air like a fly caught in molasses. Not one person reacted. Not even their faces showed any sign of surprise or confusion, even resignation. Nothing. Everyone just stood in front of her as if frozen in time, like emotionless antique statues, created for the sole purpose of decor.

She couldn’t tell how much time passed before her eyes caught a glimpse of the gun pointed at her. It had happened all so fast. As Nora remained immobile in the center of the room, mimicking everyone else, Detective West rapidly broke out from the mental restraints of shock, took his gun out of the holster and aimed. Before he forged his reputation as Detective, he was known for his impeccable firing skills.

And Nora knew that. She had heard so many stories about his time as an officer when he’d take her to the shooting range. She swore to never tell her Pa that her aim wasn’t all his doing. That’s why she just raised her hands above her head and stepped back. She knew better than to test him.

He didn’t speak. He just took the gun out and aimed, waiting for the stranger claiming to be his granddaughter to make her next move. Waiting to gain a reason to shoot. Joe West wasn’t a particularly aggressive or violent man. He was taught to use his reason, his witty intelligence and make it his most dangerous weapon. And he did. He never ran out of bullets, not even back when he was an officer. He was a man of words.

But not when it came to his kids. Not when it came to Iris and Barry. He had spent the entirety of his fatherhood teaching his daughter how to get out of any type of hold, pull a good punch, safely use a gun. He had made it his mission, his only goal to raise a strong, independent woman in a world of misogyny and raging sexism. And when Barry came into the picture, he was enrolled in weekly training too. but they were his kids. His children. And he’d be damned if anything happened to them under his watch. Not after the last two years. Not after the countless night spent holding his sobbing daughter in his arms, while clinging to his lifeless-looking; not after the nightmares that mercilessly replayed over and over again that dreaded night, the night he held his boy on the wet floor of the department’s laboratory, screeching for help, begging God to not take him away.

No, not after that. So he waited, and was ready to wait until the end of times for the shadow of a reason. He couldn’t seem to find a reason that seemed so well hidden behind those crystal blue eyes staring directly into his. Hidden behind what, though. There wasn’t a speck of fear, or distress. Not a single glimpse of confidence, of malice. Nothing. Those crystal blue eyes staring directly into his held nothing. Absolutely nothing. Endless emptiness filled her vision, her soul.

She was just a kid. It hit him out of nowhere: she was a kid. Zoom couldn’t have possibly recruited a kid, right? He wouldn’t have gone that far, would he? Of course, he would’ve. He was a monster. but she wasn’t. She was a child. Just a child. He battled with himself, letting his hands shake, his aim buckle, but never drop.

Joe’s eyes moved around the cortex, searching for an answer on someone else’s face, but he only found more questions. Nobody had moved a millimeter, he could see their muscle twitch to release some tension; nobody seemed intentioned to take their eyes off of the foreign girl standing in the middle of the room, nobody seemed intentioned to break the bone-chilling, that thickened the air, trapping them in time like bees in resin.

So, he took action. He silenced his thoughts and took a step forward, gun raised aiming at her head.

“NO!” Barry’s voice melted the silence away, rendering the air breathable again. Everyone was abruptly pulled out of their trance state and they all turned to the speedster. No one understood the look in his eyes: the deep, unconditional adoration he projected toward the young girl; the surprise, the disbelief painted on his face; the big, heartfelt grin that accentuated his dimples and displayed his whole teeth. No one could find a reasonable explanation for the pure terror hiding in his wide pupils; for the shaky hand he extended between Joe and the girl; for the force, the strength, the determination his voice held.

“You’re real” this time Barry’s voice wasn’t strong or determined. This time Barry’s voice was merely a whisper, so hushed, so tender that was barely heard by anyone. But Nora heard it. She heard it loud and clear, like she had heard him call her name when she got out of school; like she had heard him tell her good night when he tucked her in; like she had heard him in her head for the past six months.

She couldn’t let them see that. Nora couldn’t let them see the pain eating her from the inside; she couldn’t let them know about the screams and the cries, about the anger and the sorrow. They didn’t deserve it. They didn’t deserve her, what she had become.

So, she smiled. She forced he muscles to curve he lips upward in a tight, forced, small smirk. She knew she was failing at hiding the melancholy in her eyes, she knew the suffering and the mourning were obvious. But she didn’t budge. She was used to it. She just did what she had been doing for six months: she smiled through it.

“Flesh and bones” she tried to keep her voice steady, but a light tremble slipped the grip she had on herself. “No pun intended” she joked, breathing out an awkward chuckle. No one laughed, just moved their attention to Barry, who was still sitting on the wheelchair, eyes fixated on her, the stranger, the possible threat.

No one understood what Barry meant. Of course they didn’t. No body had lived that welcoming warmth, that felt like home. None of them had seen those big, beautiful icy blue eyes staring at him, those beautiful eyes full of happiness and excitement; so innocent and pure, that he swore a look from those eyes could have erased all the evil in the universe.

Non of them had heard that enchanting, mesmerising voice. That little squeal of joy, that heart-melting giggle, that was better than any song ever created, that sounded like heaven’s music. He wanted to hear that small, high voice yelling “daddy!” for the rest of his mortal existence. Even beyond that.

And now she was there in front of him. She wasn’t that little girl he had received the most outstanding work of art he had ever seen from. No. She was older, probably in her teen years. But it was her. The same big, beautiful icy blue eyes. The same heart-melting warmth in her voice. It was her. His Nora. His.

She was staring right back at him, her look mirrored his wonder and surprise. But there was something else. Something deeper, something she was clearly trying to hide. But what? He could see her smile was forced and tight, but he couldn’t understand why. And frankly, Barry didn’t care: she was there in front of him.

Nora carefully tried to move forward. Joe tightened the grip on the gun, making her step back. Barry’s head snapped towards him, but before he could speak another voice broke the silence.

“Detective put the gun down”

It wasn’t Oliver, although it was. But it wasn’t him, Oliver Queen, no; it was the Green Arrow, The Hood. His voice had dropped a couple of octaves, the words came out as growl of warning, like a lion snarling at his prey out of mercy, giving it the time to escape. Joe turned to look at him, just to find an arrow pointing at his head.

She said Queen. She said Queen-Allen. She was Barry’s daughter. His and Barry’s. In that moment nothing mattered: not the possibility of that being a lie, not the chances of zoom showing up again, not the fact that she could be a threat. Nothing matter, but the fact that she said Queen-Allen. Queen. Like him.

Allen like Barry. His Barry.

So he let all the rationality, all the logic, all the capacity to think drain out of his brain. Blinded in his ability to make decisions Oliver took a fast step forward so that the point of the arrow came in contact with Joe’s temple.

Everyone froze, no one dared to speak. Oliver’s ragged and rapid breathing was the only sound in the room, it covered the low humming of the LEDs and the noise of the computers’ fan. Joe’s eyes darted from the girl to the man a couple of times before he decided to slowly lower the gun and place it on the ground. At that, Oliver let his bow and the arrow clang loudly on the white floor.

Nora waited another couple of seconds to assure that everyone calmed down before speaking again. She may had needed another couple of seconds to make sure her voice wouldn’t break and her eyes wouldn’t start to water. That wasn’t what she had planned. But it had happed, and now she needed to handle the situation properly. She could not risk them know everything, but she couldn’t lie either. Her dad was just starting to deal with the unspeakable situation that Zoom was. And judging by the wheelchair it was he had lost another battle.

She couldn’t risk them knowing, but she couldn’t hide everything from them. She was never able to lie to them. They had to know. Nora found herself in front of the possibility to bring them back, to have them drive her to school and pick her up at the end of the day. She had the chance to knock on their bedroom door and hear them telling her to come in. She could have the afternoons in the lab and the nights in the foundry back.

She could have them back.

But how could she do that? How could she even think of messing with the timeline after the billion lectures about using her speed to travel through time?

She settled for a half truth.

“Now that no one is pointing weapons at no one” she stared “Pops I promise I’m telling the truth. I come from about twenty years from now, and I know what you all are about to say! I know I shouldn’t time travel, but it was an accident!” Truth

“I was just suppose to go to Gotham!” Another truth

“But something went wrong “ again, truth

“And I found myself in Central. I thought I was overthinking and took the wrong turn” not exactly the truth

“But then I saw a news board and the tear was 2015. Dad I’m sorry I really didn’t mean to, but I don’t know how to go back, I tried to, but it didn’t work “ some of this is true, the rest not really.

It took Barry a quarter of a second to forget everything she said. Dad. She called him dad.

“Nora” he chocked on that word. He always wished to honour his mother like that, by naming a possible daughter Nora. And it was going to happen. With Oliver.

“Okay we are gonna need some tests”

••••

“Aunt Caitlin I understand that I’m a speedster, but my blood isn’t infinite!”

Every drop of blood they had put in the system gave the same result: she was Barry’s biological daughter. Even the piece of skin, the hair and the fragment of nail. She was who she claimed to be.

“Do you guys want to go ask Gideon?” She said, earning a couple of confused looks.

“You know about Gideon?” Cisco asked

“Of course I know about Gideon, I was there when dad built it! I guess I will be there, chewing on a plushie”

Barry had tucked himself in a corner, eyes fixated on emptiness and hands clutching Oliver’s. He already knew she wasn’t lying, he didn’t need a dozen tests to know that. She was the little girl excited to show him her draw. Or at least she was. It was going to be.

He was trying to focus on how he was supposed to address her existence rather than her words.

~_~_~_~_~

“I guess you still don’t know” she stuttered, as if she was searching for the right way of saying what she wanted, but she couldn’t find it.

“You have told me so many times about this. Every time I was scared you would”

the clearing of throat seemed to go unnoticed “you would tell me about the time Zoom broke your spine and left paralysed for about three weeks”

Horror flashed on everybody’s faces. The crack was of a spine.

“I think this is the time you were talking about”

~_~_~_~_~

Caitlin had confirmed that. His vertebrae T9 an T10 were completely fractured, and minor damage was inflicted to his T8 and T11.

It wasn’t anxiety, it wasn’t fear or shock. It was a broken back. After about two hours since Nora had shown up Barry could feel the loss of, well, feeling in his legs. It was a strange sensation: it was as if his being stopped under his bellybutton. He gripped Oliver’s hand to keep himself from pinching his thigh until he bled.

He was The Flash. Running was all he had know for the past two years. All he had known for his entire life. And now he was confined in a chair, unable to even get out of the room by himself.

His eyes burned with unshed tears, his throat closed by chocked sobs. Oliver had abandoned the standing and was now crouching next to the wheelchair and had put his head on the nest their arms created.

Oliver wished he could take all his pain away. He wished his fingers could absorb every ounce of suffering in Barry’s body and transfer it to his. Barry had endured so much in his life, he had already walked through hell and now this. If God existed he was an ass.

As he lovingly kissed Barry’s knuckles his ears caught light, unsure footsteps getting closer. The red boots stopped in front of them and the leather covered knees touched the ground.

Nora crossed her arms over her father’s lap and placed her left hand over theirs.

“It’s gonna be okay”

It was.

#barry allen #barry x oliver #caitlin snow #cisco ramon #dc comics #olivarry #oliver x barry #nora allen #original writing #original female character #iris west #joe west #the green arrow #the flash #cw arrow #cw the flash #arrowverse #oliver queen

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