Chapter Text
Hartley Rathaway was once again locked up in a confinement cell at STAR Labs. To the outside world he didn't seem like a big threat, considering the masked vigilante, Flash, captured him now for the third time. The police turned the other cheek when it came to the Flash, he was efficient at his job, helping the Central City Police Department in any way he could. Though Hartley was still very satisfied with himself, he loved the thought of being feared by his former colleagues so much, they needed to throw him into a solitary, everything-proof cell, even though he only posessed a few gadgets he built. He wasn't even one of those meta-humans with superpowers.
- Yo! - A quick knock on the glass door of his cage made the prisoner jump. - Time to go, Rathaway. You're no longer of any need or threat to us, we're handing you over to the CCPD. Get ready for a slight change of scenery and a rather uncomfortable room for the rest of your life. - Said Cisco Ramon, Hartley's former teammate with a satisfied smile on his face.
- Never took you for the gloating type, Cisquito. - Replied Hartley, standing up in the four feet of a cell. - So, where's the cavalry? - He asked with a sigh.
- They'll be here soon, don't worry. - Cisco opened the door and walked up to the criminal. - Until then… - He snapped a pair of handcuffs with sophisticated GPS and computer in it around the criminal's wrists. - I'll do the honors.
Hartley didn't say anything, a smirk creeping on his face. He was led out of the prison section of STAR Labs, through all the hallways and gates he knew like the back of his hand. Once they reached the main hall, Cisco pushed the prisoner onto a chair and pointed towards him with a threathening finger.
- Don't you dare move! - With that, the young braniac quickly jogged into a room secured with a password.
Hartley was tapping the floor with his boots to a rythym of some song, when all of a sudden the lights went out, the door of the room which Cisco descended into shut down, trapping the young man inside. He immediately ran to the nearest window and started banging on it, shouting towards Hartley.
- Rathaway, do something!
The young criminal rose and walked over to the helpless man, now emprisoned by his own system. And with a mischevious grin, he said:
- Sorry, my hands are tied. - Then made a run for the exit.
Hartley didn't need guidance or light to know the way out of the facility. After a while, it became his home. He spent more time there than with his family, which was acceptable, considering they disowned him.
He quickly got to the nearest gate that led out, only to find it tightly shut. He banged his cuffed hands to the metal furiously, then ran for the second exit route. While he was in a camera-free, pitch dark path, he didn't notice the man at the end of the corridor and launched into him involuntarily.
- Hey, watch your step! - Said a voice so sugar-coated, it was too good to be true.
- Excuse me? Watch my step? Why in the world are you standing in the middle of my way? - Huffed the slightly irritated Hartley.
- You best step back, little guy. I'm breaking my criminal friend out of here and your whining episode is just wasting my time.
- Little guy? Really? That's the best you can do? - He let out a frustrated breath. - I'm surrounded by idiots. - Said he, pushing his way past the other man.
A hand wrapped around Hartley's hands and with a swift move the computer binding his wrists together was removed. But the young man couldn't feel happy for too long as the stranger's arm grasped his hand firmly the minute he was set free from the cuffs, then roughly dragged him through even more blinding darkness.
- Let go of me, right now! - He shouted at the stranger. After a few seconds without getting response, Hartley gave up and let himself be led through the maze of STAR Labs.
Soon, light hit the young criminal's eyes and he finally felt fresh air after what seemed to be decades in a dark cell.
Once his arm was released, Hartley took the opportunity to turn and observe his saviour.
A long-faced, brown-haired man stood before him, his body slim and his clothes resembled some kind of a jester. He also wore a royal blue, diamond-shaped mask to cover his eyes.
- So. Who do I owe a big thank you to? - Asked Hartley with a grimace, eyeing the man from head to toe.
- Call me Trickster.
Hartley snorted.
- Circus-freak would've suited you just fine. - He stated, putting his hood on, adjusting his retro-style glasses. - Now. What's the deal here, hm? Are you some kind of a weird fan of mine or something? Breaking me out so you could win my heart? Not that I wouldn't understand your intentions, if you were one of those guys...
The Trickster gave no answer, only shook his head slowly, demonstrating his disapproval. He pulled Hartley's sonic gloves out of his bag, which was conveniently waiting for them outside, and handed them over to the liberated criminal. With a long, painful sigh, he jumped up, activating, what seemed to be a hand-designed levitation-engine in his boots, then skated away, up into the sky.
Hartley was dumbstruck by that uniquely designed pair of shoes. His saviour wasn't the circus fool he first thought. He was just as much of a brilliant genious as Hartley himself and that was a thing the young criminal felt oddly uncomfortable admitting most of the time. Yet, now that he's met his match, who actually never meant any harm, he had no other option, but to realize he wasn't unbeatable. Maybe that fact wasn't so shameful, though. What if he'd try and make amends with the Trickster, offer a partnership? Together they'd most definitely rule Central City and be feared even more. If that were to happen, Hartley wouldn't feel any pain sharing the throne with such a companion.
He smiled to himself as he, at long last, put on his dearly missed gloves and made his escape.
On the way home, he needed to be cautious, avoiding the police roaming the streets. Apparently, the minute he was broken out, he jumped to the first place in the CCPD's most wanted list. Every single soul in the law enforcement was out in the streets, alleyways both on foot and with cars, patroling every inch of Central City at all times. Luckily, Hartley had a few things up his sleeves, so his journey was smooth and quick.
Once the young criminal entered his home, he logged onto his computer, starting to write another one of his complicated algorithms, attempting to triangulate the possible areas where his saviour could have been hiding. That was going to be a long ride, so he turned on the TV and cranked up the volume. Most of the time he listened to the news, memorizing every report to be up to date about each up and coming criminal and, of course, to be up to speed about the Flash, who soon became the police department's best buddy, even though just a few months ago, they hunted him the same way they did Hartley.
- Police are searching for mass criminal, Hartley Rathaway, also known as the Pied Piper. Individual is extremely dangerous, if seen, do not approach or engage in any way, get to a safe place and call CCPD. Be extremely cautius out on the streets especially at night. Every agent in this division... - Hartley snorted to himself while listening to the pathetic banter going on and on.
More than ten investigators and detectives were interviewed, as if they were of any help, talking into a microphone. At least if they would've been out on the streets as well, they could make some process in finding clues, Hartley himself, or even the perpetrator who broke him out, however the criminal knew these men were fools, despite being in the law enforcement. Their level was far from his and his saviour's. Hartley single handedly defeated the Scarlet Speedster on more than one occasion by outsmarting him with the strategy of chess. He was naturally given a brilliant mind with endless capacities, unlike any others of his age and he wasn't ever afraid to use it to his benefit, even if that meant hurting a few worthless souls nearby.
Hartley's thoughts were interrupted by his laptop's screen going blank in the middle of his work. He hit the table with his fist and rose from his seat, combing both his hands through his short golden-brown hair. Whilst adjusting his glasses, a noise could be heard. He looked around the dark living room, only lit by his sonic gloves' shining green power button, lying around on the coffee table. The young man was so much into his programming, he didn't realize the sun had already set. Instead of going to switch on the lights, he sat back onto the couch and faced his monitor once again. Somehow he felt like this was a prank by someone angry at the lab and they wanted to send a message by hacking into his computer. He was wrong.
After a few seconds the screen started blinking, coming back to life, only to reveal an awfully familiar face.
- Hello, Piper, - waved the Trickster with a terrifying smile on his face, whilst revealing a hostage behind him, turning the camera. Hartley only then could make out the identity of the individual tied onto a chair, knocked out by some poison most likely. It was the Streak.
- My treat, - he started as he faced Hartley once more. - If you were willing to meet, I would beat a retreat from going insane, killing your sweet idol of speed. - With that, the video stopped, the Trickster was gone and now, for the second time that day, Hartley just sat, stupefied.