Nathan had a thought, a simple question; what could he give up for freedom? For long nights he had pondered on this simple conundrum. The answer came all too soon, and with realization came the absurdity of his own radical thoughts. How can it still be freedom if he was afraid of the consequences of his own actions? To be free meant to accept those consequences.
“Looking for dark matter, Nathan?”
The man was smiling, but it was not his usual smile, Nathan realized. He looked back and asked, “What happens if I siphon this clone’s dark matter, does it recover it, or die, or simply go poof?”
“Why don’t we find out?” His tone was suggestive, and while outwardly Harrison Wells was his same usual self, that damn small irked Nathan. He looked the man in the eye for moments longer than he would’ve liked.
He turned and put his hand on the clone. Nathan closed his eyes, his thoughts splitting into multiple versions of 'himself'. He frowned, his concentration slipping, and for a brief moment, he was overcome with a singular desire; to kill.
Nathan opened his eyes in shock. Just now he had somehow connected to all the clones of Danton Black, and the feeling that he was getting was no doubt the strong emotions that the man held. That overwhelming hatred for that man who had killed his wife.
Nathan backed away for a second, the emotions trying to drown him into rage and madness.
“Something wrong?” Dr. Wells hadn’t moved at all, watching over him like a hawk.
“No, it’s just...,” Nathan paused and considered his words. “I felt the link between the clones and the original, so it was just weird, is all.”
“That’s wonderful, Nathan.” The doctor seemed pleased and asked, “Can you identify the original?”
“I can try.” He nodded and went back to work. This time he didn’t try to reach out for all. He focused.
All clones had a nexus focus point from which they received a signal in the form of dark matter waves at a specific frequency. It was like a huge ethereal nervous system, much like the peripheral nervous system acting like the mediums. What Nathan had to do was simply trace the signal to its origin and bam, the original.
It took him some time, but eventually, he was able to locate the center. For the first time, Nathan tried something he never had. His dark matter flared to life, and with force, it surged; instead of taking, this time he fed it.
At the same time, Barry, who was fighting his way through the storm of clones, suddenly saw the pause, and the one at the back staggered. Realizing his chance, he ran and in but a second he had impaled the man on his shoulder, the momentum enough to fling the cloning meta-human through the air.
Nathan, who felt a rush of emotions, smiled and proceeded onto his original task. The clone trembled, and he inhaled—a feeling of freshness coursing through his body.
“Guys, I’m in trouble.” Barry’s voice sounded from the speaker.
Nathan looked back, his eyes locking onto the doctor's. Going over the situation, it seemed that Barry had successfully pushed the man down, and just when he had stopped and taken a breather, the clones had swarmed the man, and now he was lying flat, once again getting his ass handed to him.
What Nathan couldn’t understand, however, was why the man had even stopped in the middle of a fight; did he even know it was a fight? And how hard was it to even knock the man out? Why was this guy playing hero when he didn’t know shit about fighting?
“Barry, listen to me,” Dr. Wells leaned in over the mic, his voice full of pure conviction. “I know you can do it, and it’s not just me, we all believe in you. So, believe in yourself, Barry.”
He didn’t know what it was, but a little pep talk always managed to get Barry’s motivational levels high. It intrigued Nathan, who thought of the man as some kind of protagonist in some shonen trope.
At last, the villain was defeated, and the hero said in his calm and collected voice, “It’s over.”
Smiles surfaced over their faces. Nathan instead took Dr. Wells’ place and said, “Would you please make sure the man is knocked out, Barry.”
“Ah yes, th—" Barry’s voice cut off, and Nathan sighed, feeling like this was not going to end well.
“Barry,” Caitlin asked in a calm manner, but there was no dismissing her concern with which she spoke.
“He’s gone. He jumped.”
Nathan felt like cursing the man.
“Mr. Williams, if you will.” Harrison Wells stood near the door, he motioned for the young man to follow.
Nathan looked at Cisco and Caitlin and then at the detective who spared him a side-long glance. Seeing as they were immersed in their own work, he followed the man outside, and together they traveled through the hallway into the workshop below.
“You’re suspicious.” It was such a sudden response that Nathan paused in his steps for a moment.
“What?” He asked. Had he been right in assuming that the man knew something?
“You don’t have to be surprised.” The two walked into the room, and Harrison Wells pointed at the chair before him. Nathan took a seat. “I know that some things don’t make sense to you, and believe me, they surprise me too sometimes.”
“I…” Nathan stopped. He had to consider what he could say and what he couldn’t. The man before him was not only older but more intelligent too. It went without doubt that the man before him could trick him into saying something that he would regret; like confessing to some crime.
“I just want to know one thing.”
“And, what might that be?” Dr. Wells asked.
“What do you plan to do with Barry and me?” Nathan had asked this question carefully. He wanted to sound innocent and at the same leave the underline meaning open for interpretation.
“I can assure you that everything I wish for is to better humanity.” He started to talk about the benefits of Barry’s and his ability. Like how it could be used to find a cure for all diseases.
Nathan waited for the man to finish. “Is that really all?”
“Why, what else could I want?”
His gaze lowered on the man’s legs, and he said, “I believe you, Dr. Wells. But I can’t believe the heart of a man who’s desperate for more.”
“Ah.” Harrison Wells laughed. “You are a funny young man, Nathan. If you think I want your power to cure me of disability, then I can’t deny that. Greed is what drives me to make better tomorrow, and it is inevitable that I desire to walk again.”
Nathan didn’t reply. For weeks now he believed that Harrison Wells planned to use the dark matter for his purposes. He didn’t fault the doctor for this, for he would’ve done the same if he was in his shoes. For all intents and purposes, Dr. Wells didn’t strike Nathan as a hero type. If anything, he believed the man to be much more like him.
That’s why he was also afraid. Nathan understood himself better. Outwardly he might look like a simple, unassuming young man, but inwardly he was a man of simple beliefs. To him, lying was as easy as drinking water. He knew that if presented with such an opportunity, he would also wring it dry.
“If that’s the case, then forgive my ignorance,” Nathan said and stood from his chair. He was ready to leave when the doctor spoke again.
“Be careful on the way, there are other meta-humans out there who, unlike Mr. Danton, murder indiscriminately.”
Nathan stopped briefly before continuing on his way.
By now, Nathan was sure that the doctor was up to no good. He had spoken in such a cryptic way that the young man was quite sure that the man wanted him to know. Like it was all some elaborate plan of the presently crippled but once a great figure.
Nathan hated how he couldn't even determine his own actions. He was confused about how he should act; if his actions inclined to the plans of the preparator, could he still act as if he was free?
Nathan realized once more how foolish he was. It didn't matter what plans others had for him. There would always be someone hidden in some mysterious dimension planning to use him as a pawn; the least he could do was not to accept his fate.
Whatever Harrison Wells was planning, he would see it through. Nathan didn't fancy himself a hero; he wasn't going to fight for justice if Harrison Wells intended for some evil plan to come to fruition. If the man planned to do something to him, though, then he would have to face not the man he had been playing as, but one who wore no mask of euphemism.
...
Eobard Thawne had a purpose. From the moment the future was laid bare before him, he only sought to kill The Flash. It wasn't easy. The man was powerful and fast; he ran as fast as troubles itself, fate never seemed to catch up. Until it did.
One fateful day, he found the hero's identity. Barry Allen. A CSI working at Central City Police Department. An unassuming young man who no one would associate with the hero of the City. In retrospect, however, it was rather obvious.
Barry Allen had an inclination of disappearing during incidents. When the Flash was on the screen, Barry Allen never made an appearance. Eobard Thawne found it laughable.
It should've been easy. Time traveling was not difficult for a Speedster of his caliber, and finding young Allen was just as easy. However, the man had caught the whiff of his plan and followed after him. Still, he wasn't the one to back away from an opportunity. If he couldn't kill Barry Allen, then he would take everything from him, make him feel what he felt when his moment was stolen. He killed his mother.
It was enough, but fate was cruel. By some twisted happenstance, he lost his speed, and now he was stuck in this accursed past with the only way back being the creation of the very thing he sought to destroy. How ironic.
Until he came along. Compared to Barry, he was even more unassuming, normal for all intents and purposes, a dud. But Eobard Thawne learned to curb his mistakes as he got to know him more. If it were still the future, he would've taken the kid as his protege. Nathan was his ticket back home. Barry was the reserve, and that was why the scarlet Speedster still breathed.
It did surprise him somewhat that his messing with the timeline would result in such a change, but where fate once laughed at his misery, he had finally found the boat to his home island. Nathan was unusual, sure, but that was for them to deal with. Eobard Thawne was content in being sent home.
Or was he? He smiled. No, Nathan was more than that. It would be a waste to leave such a good tool unpolished. Surely, he would appreciate a little helping hand. A little push, a little fear.
Ooh, that sounds interesting. I'll definitely read that one when it comes out. Aaannyways Thanks for the chapter.