Chapter Text
Oliver’s just returned from a solo mission when Feliciy reports, “There’s a new metahuman in Central City. They’re thinking super-charged hypnotism.”
Oliver can believe a lot of things. ‘Super-charged hypnotism’ is not one of them.
“Really?” he says as he hangs up his bow, “And why do they think that?”
“Well, the Mayor and his wife were found clucking like chickens. One of them even tried to lay an egg. Don’t know how that would’ve worked.”
And…okay. That did sound like a stereotypical hypnotist. Whoever it is, they probably did that to demonstrate not only something they could do, but to also let everyone know what their abilities were. Why, though? Why not just hypnotise someone off a roof? Change a politician’s ideals?
Felicity interrupts his thoughts. “I see wheels turning,” she says.
Oliver’s fingers stray on his quiver. “Has Barry gone to look for them yet?”
“Yeah, Caitlin said they pinpointed the location measuring sound waves. Apparently that’s how the hypnosist works, they manipulate sound waves. Like really powerful brain waves.”
Oliver whirls around to face her. “Get them to call Barry back, now.”
“What—?”
“Now, Felicity!”
“Oh! Okay!”
But just as she reaches her phone, a flash of lightning and wind rips through the foundry, and there Barry stands. His mask is down; he looks panicked.
Oliver wastes no time in reaching him. “Barry! Are you okay?” he demands, “What have I told you about running in blind?”
Barry’s mouth works. His hands don’t seem to know what to do with themselves. Oliver’s eyebrows twitch together. He and Felicity share a glance.
“Barry,” Oliver tries again, gentler this time, “what happened?”
Suddenly, Barry starts…singing. (Really well, actually.)
“This is not what I want!
This is not what I planned!
And I just gotta sa-a-ay,
I do not understand!”
Felicity is gaping; Oliver can only stare, even as Barry grabs him by his jacket and yanks him forward.
“Something is really—”
“Something’s not right,” Oliver murmurs.
Barry steps back, putting index finger tapping his nose while his other hand points at his friend. “Really wro-o-o-ong! And we gotta get things back where they belo-o-o-ong!”
Felicity bursts out laughing. She stifles it when faced with Arrow’s withering glare and Barry Allen’s hurt puppy look. “I mean,” she clears her throat, standing so she can put a comforting hand on Barry’s shoulder. “We’ll fix this.”
Oliver sighs, “I’ll call Diggle. Then, Barry, this is the only time I’m going to ask you for this, but…you need to run us all to Central City as soon as possible.”
Barry brightens. Without warning, he throws his arms around Oliver and cheers,
“He’s my best friend, best of all best friends,
Do you have a best friend too?”
“And Barry?” says Oliver. When he gets a falsetto “YEAAAAH?” he snaps, “Shut up.”
At least Barry has the grace to pull away from him and offer an apologetic salute. Oliver pats his back and turns to his phone.
“Dig? We’ve got a problem.”
“Thank God,” Caitlin groans when she sees Felicity arrive at the lab.
“Yep! And my shirt’s on fire again!” Felicity shrieks.
After the newcomers—except Oliver; apparently Cisco’s improvements involved friction-proofing—are given S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirts, Cisco approaches Barry with no small amount of mirth on his face.
“How are you, buddy?” he asks.
“Cisco,” Oliver chides, but Barry indulges his friend.
“’Cause yah had a bad day,
Takin’ one down,
Y’sing a sad song just to turn it around—”
“How do we stop this?” interrupts Oliver.
“Well, we could modify a headset we made for Barry when he went up a against a telepathic gorilla,” Caitlin begins.
“Wait, what?” says Diggle.
“Long story. Anyway, we haven’t identified her yet, but it’s a she, and she’s not a telepath. But maybe we could…do something that blocks out her powers.”
Felicity nods, “In the meantime, Barry shouldn’t open his mouth.” Barry hums his acknowledgement in the form of a song Oliver thinks is from The Wizard of Oz.
“That’s how she wants to reveal Barry’s identity,” Caitlin explains, “she’s…got a thing for dramatics. A few minutes ago, the mayor clucked to the police that whoever kept singing was The Flash.”
“So Barry lost his voice, simple,” says Diggle, “Joe and Eddie can cover for you.”
But Cisco cuts in, “Uh, guys…I think there might be a problem with that.”
They follow his eyes. “Barry?” Oliver asks, “What’s wrong?”
Because Barry is turning as red as his suit, as if he’s struggling with himself…until he throws his arms open wide and—
“Let it go! Let it go!
Can’t hold it back anymore!
Let it go! Let it go-o!
Turn away and slam the doo-o-or!”
Oliver sighs. “You can’t stop singing, can you?”
Barry regretfully replies, “You can’t stop the beat.”
“Great,” Felicity mutters, “And you can’t call in sick, that would be too suspicious so soon after this…incident. You’ll have to make it through one day. Can you do that?”
Barry shrugs, “I went to the—danger zone!”
Oliver shakes his head, “This isn’t like any enemy you’ve faced, Barry. You have to do whatever you can.”
Diggle asks, “Is there any way you can speak?”
Barry looks thoughtful. Then he opens his mouth—
“His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy,
There’s vomit on his sweater already, Mom’s spaghetti—”
“No,” both Caitlin and Felicity interrupt.
Cisco’s grinning. “Please tell me we can record all this.” When everyone stares at him, “What?”
Barry walks into work with Joe at his side.
“Remember, kid,” Joe murmurs, “Short notes only, like we practiced.”
Oh, what a practice that had been. Joe couldn’t stop laughing for the first half hour. It turns out Barry can control how long he holds out each word if he really concentrates, but he can’t control how obvious it is that he’s singing. Nevertheless, he takes a deep breath and nods.
“Allen!” calls Captain Singh almost as soon as they step into the bullpen, “You got those results I asked for?”
Barry, not expecting to be tested so soon, replies, “Ye-ah.”
Joe winces. This is gonna be a long day.
It only gets worse.
Although Barry somehow escaped suspicion by the skin of his teeth, his bright entrance of, “We-e-e-e are the champions, my frie-ends!” is shot down by the tense silence choking S.T.A.R. Labs.
“Oliver’s com got cut off,” Felicity says, back stiff. “We can’t risk sending Diggle in there. It’s a warehouse on 34th and Rochester.”
Barry’s rendition of “Gotta go fast! Gotta go fast!” is swallowed by his lightning.
The Flash arrives to a warehouse empty of anybody outside of Arrow. Oliver’s hands are clenched into fists, white-knuckled grip on his bow as he turns to face Barry with nothing but defeat on his face.
Will you tell us that you’re okay?”
Oliver’s jaw clenches. Slowly, he turns his eyes from the floor to meet Barry’s.
Oh no.
“You’ve been hit by—
You’ve been struck by—”
And Oliver finishes, “A smooth criminal.”