Chapter Text
ix months since Barry entered the Speed Force...
The Parker Estate looked as perfect as it always did, a picturesque slice of paradise nestled in the rolling hills, with lush greenery and vibrant flowers. It was one of those perfect summer afternoons where the sun bathed the whole scene in golden light, casting long shadows across the sprawling backyard. A light breeze rustled the leaves of the tall oak tree by the porch, and the faint sound of birds chirping filled the air. But today, there was a buzz of excitement that made the day feel even more special—today, the entire Team Flash had gathered here for a potluck arranged by Emma's mother, Iantha. The long wooden table in the backyard was laden with dishes, and the mood was lighthearted, filled with laughter and friendly conversation.
"Any news from Julian?" Emma asked, her eyes scanning the group while she sipped her mocktail—a tangy concoction Frost had whipped up. She gave Caitlin a wink, admiring the drink. "Tell Frost she's really good at mixology."
Caitlin smiled warmly, always happy when someone appreciated the finer things in life, like a well-made beverage. "She's glad you like it." Then, her tone shifted slightly, growing more thoughtful as she answered Emma's original question. "As for Julian, he's visiting his folks back in England. We call every few days, though."
Emma nodded, her expression softening for a moment as she thought of the man she once shared a life with. "I hope he's doing okay," she said quietly before shaking off the sentiment and focusing back on the group.
From the far side of the yard, a loud, enthusiastic voice interrupted their conversation.
"Mommy! I won against Uncle Cisco in the beanbag toss!" Hope yelled with unrestrained excitement, appearing out of nowhere in a flash of yellow and purple lightning. The toddler sped over so quickly that she was a blur, the burst of lightning almost leaving a trail behind her as she skidded to a stop in front of Emma. They'd discovered her newfound speed powers only a few months ago when Hope, barely able to walk, had dashed over to Emma with a toy in hand, her small body somehow moving faster than anyone could have imagined.
"That's wonderful, sprout," Emma said, crouching down to Hope's level. She kissed her daughter's cheek, her heart swelling with pride and joy. "You've got some speed in those little legs."
Hope beamed, bouncing on her toes. "I'm fast like Daddy!" she exclaimed, her voice high-pitched with pure joy.
"Is that so?" Caitlin asked, eyebrows raised, turning to Cisco, who was standing nearby, arms crossed and clearly a bit disgruntled.
"A toddler beat you at the bean bag toss?" Caitlin couldn't help but ask, amusement flickering in her eyes.
"A toddler speedster who's the same height as the freaking stand," Cisco grumbled, throwing his arms up in defeat. "I mean, I could've breached the beanbags straight into the hole, sure. But that would've been, you know, cheating."
"Uh-huh," Caitlin replied skeptically, crossing her arms with a smirk. "I'm sure you had a very valid reason."
"That would be cheating, Cisco," Cecile said, her voice teasing as she set a large bowl of potato salad down on the table with a gentle thud.
"Plus, you never want to see a toddler look at you like you just betrayed them," Joe added, laughing softly as he placed a sizable serving dish of macaroni and cheese next to Cecile's salad. The dish was warm and cheesy, the scent making everyone's mouth water.
"Thanks again for inviting us, Iantha," Joe said, raising a glass of iced tea in a grateful toast.
Iantha, ever gracious and warm, smiled and waved it off. "It's nothing, Joe. I mean, look at all this space—it wouldn't be much without the people to share it with."
"Well said," Henry agreed, his voice deep and resonant. He looked around the table with a satisfied smile. "Where are the kids, though?"
"I'm right here, Grandpa Henry!" Hope waved energetically, her pigtails flying out behind her as she jumped up and down, eager to get her grandfather's attention.
Henry chuckled. "I mean your uncles, sweetheart. Benji and Wally. Where are they?"
"Oh, Uncle Benji's busy guarding Nonna Iantha's lasagna in the oven," Hope replied seriously, as if her teenage uncle had been assigned the most important task of the day.
"Popcorn balls?" Iris said incredulously, raising an eyebrow at Benji, who had just walked over, carrying a tray full of large, sticky popcorn balls, and carrying a casserole dish of hot steaming lasagna.
"Well, I had to get creative with what I had in my dorm," Benji defended himself with a shrug. He grinned sheepishly as he set the popcorn balls down on the table. "Popcorn's easy to make. And caramel. So, yeah. Popcorn balls."
"Well, it's certainly different," Iris said with a laugh, eyeing the popcorn balls with curiosity.
"And Wally brought cheesecake bites," Benji added quickly, trying to save face. "He learned to make them in his high school home economics class."
Suddenly, a blur of yellow zipped past everyone, and Wally appeared at the table, arms full of small containers of cheesecake bites. He placed them down with a flourish, his usual grin lighting up his face. "Hey, everybody! Got the cheesecake bites, just like I promised. You'll love 'em. Learned this recipe in Home Ec." Wally threw his hands up in mock pride. "Best part? No cooking required!"
"That's a Wally special, for sure," Cisco chuckled, reaching for a container of cheesecake bites as he eyed them skeptically. "As long as they're not as weird as the popcorn balls, I'm good."
Hope, ever the curious toddler, reached out for one of the cheesecake bites, her small hands almost trembling with excitement, and stuffed it into her mouth before anyone could stop her. Her green eyes lit up immediately, sparkling with pure joy. She chewed for a moment, savoring the sweetness of the dessert. "Yummy!" she squealed, her voice high-pitched with delight, as she grabbed another cheesecake bite, her tiny hands eager to grab more. Her chubby cheeks puffed out as she popped another one into her mouth, clearly not ready to stop.
The adults couldn't help but laugh at her unfiltered excitement, the sound echoing across the yard, and they took it as their cue to sit down and begin their own meals. The peaceful, carefree moment helped lighten the mood as they made themselves comfortable around the long table, the food laid out before them in abundance.
"How are things at the precinct?" Iantha asked, her voice gentle but curious as she picked up her fork and took a bite of her salad. Her gaze shifted between Joe and Emma, searching for any sign of how they were holding up.
Joe sighed, leaning back in his chair, his eyes a little tired. "I've been stalling Singh with this whole story of Barry being on a sabbatical in the Czech Republic," he said, with a hint of humor, though the weariness was clear in his tone. "He buys it, for now, but it's only a matter of time before they start asking more questions."
Emma nodded knowingly, setting her glass down with a soft clink. "And they want to hire someone to replace him." She shook her head, her voice carrying a mix of frustration and resignation. "Yeah, they should. They need all the help they can get."
"You're talking as if Barry's lost for good," Iris said, her voice defensive, a slight edge to it. She was sitting next to Emma, her hands folded tightly in her lap, though her concern for her adoptive brother was palpable.
"He isn't. We know exactly where he is," Emma answered gently but firmly, her voice softening as she turned to look at Iris. "In the Speed Force. And trust me, Iris, for the past six months, Caitlin, Cisco, and I've been doing everything we can to find a way to stabilize the Speed Force and extract Barry out of it." She paused, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass as she gathered her thoughts. "Ever since my promotion at Orion, to head of engineering and a board member, I've been pouring all my resources into the research we're doing at S.T.A.R. Labs. The technology to bring Barry back just doesn't exist yet."
Caitlin, sitting beside Emma, nodded in agreement, though her expression remained uncertain. "But we're still looking at every possible avenue," she said, though the words didn't seem to comfort anyone at the table. The air around them thickened, as if they were all bracing for something they couldn't control. The team's hope was there, but it was fraying at the edges.
"Sweetheart..." Iantha trailed off, her voice soft but firm, looking at Emma with a mother's knowing gaze. She cleared her throat, trying to find the right words. "I'm very proud of you for taking the lead with the team at S.T.A.R. Labs. We let you have your space so that you'd have time to deal with what happened," she added, her voice laced with a quiet concern.
Emma stiffened slightly, her shoulders tensing as she met her mother's gaze. "Mom, I'm fine, okay?" she assured her, but there was a hint of defensiveness in her tone, a shield going up to protect herself from the wave of grief that had been crashing down for months.
"You're not," Iantha pressed gently, her voice steady but filled with years of experience. "I know because I've been in your shoes. The denial. When your dad died, I was the same way." She paused, her eyes softening with empathy as she reached across the table to give Emma's hand a brief squeeze. "We spoke about his life. Maybe we should do the same thing for Barry. Give us all permission to grieve, to remember him properly."
Emma's jaw tightened, and she glanced down, swallowing the lump in her throat. The thought of Barry—not just the hero, but the man she loved—made everything feel more real than she could bear. "And what are we gonna bury, Mom?" she questioned quietly, her voice sharp despite her best efforts to keep it controlled. "That empty suit in the lab?" She stood abruptly, her hands shaking slightly as she pushed her chair back with a scrape. The pain in her chest was too much to bear, the emotions rising up like a tidal wave. "You know what? I'm going to take a walk. Clear my head."
Emma placed a hand on her mother's shoulder as she walked past, her fingers lingering for a moment before she pulled away, not meeting anyone's eyes as she exited the backyard. She left the heavy silence behind her, the weight of it pressing down on the rest of the group.
"I'll go talk to her," Henry said quietly, standing up from the table as well. His voice was calm, the authority of a father and grandfather in his tone as he made his way toward the house.
The sound of Hope's stomach growling cut through the somber atmosphere, a reminder of the normalcy that still existed despite everything. The toddler's confused gaze flickered between the adults as she sat quietly, waiting for the grown-ups to make sense of the situation.
Turning to Joe, Hope's little voice piped up, her face scrunched in concentration. "May I have some mac n' cheese, Papa Joe?" she asked sweetly.
Joe smiled warmly, his face softening at the sight of Hope's innocent request. His eyes flickered briefly to the door Emma had just exited through before he focused on his granddaughter. "Of course, kiddo," he said, his voice full of affection as he began to serve her a small portion of macaroni and cheese. "It was your father's favorite too," he added softly, a hint of nostalgia in his tone as he stirred the dish with a spoon.
Hope's eyes widened at the mention of her father. "Daddy loved mac n' cheese?" she asked, tilting her head, her innocence a bittersweet reminder of what had been lost.
Joe gave a small, tender smile. "Yeah, he did. And so will you," he said, placing the plate in front of her. "Now, eat up, kiddo." He patted her head, the small moment of normalcy grounding him even as the conversation around him continued to carry the weight of uncertainty.
***
Henry followed his daughter-in-law through the tranquil expanse of the Parker Estate, the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers mingling with the crisp evening air. The sun had dipped behind the horizon, casting a soft, warm glow across the grounds. The long gravel path, lined with tall hedges and blooming azaleas, stretched out before them. It was quiet here, a sharp contrast to the storm of emotions swirling within Emma. The weight of her thoughts seemed to make the world around her feel both too vast and too small at the same time.
Henry, ever the steady presence, matched her pace, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. His gaze was compassionate, his expression somber but patient. "Now, I know that wasn't the most pleasant of conversations," he said, his voice gentle but filled with the wisdom of someone who had walked through grief and loss himself.
Emma let out a small, wry chuckle, the sound hollow yet touched with a note of familiarity. "Yeah, it wasn't," she replied, her eyes focused on the path ahead. The soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet was the only sound for a moment, before Emma spoke again, her voice quieter, more reflective. "I know how hard it is to lose a dad. Right after I lost my dad, Benji was four, and he really didn't understand what death was. He'd always ask for stories about Dad before going to bed, and every time, it would hurt. Because I knew how that void felt. I could see it in his eyes." She paused, her chest tightening as the memory swept over her. "It was like reliving the loss all over again, you know? The sadness, the emptiness. And I couldn't fill that space for him."
She stopped walking for a moment, her eyes staring out across the manicured lawns, but not really seeing them. Her fingers brushed against the cool stone of the garden wall, her knuckles white with tension. "Barry isn't dead, Henry," she added, her voice thick with emotion. "And I don't want to deprive Hope of making memories with her father. Every day I wake up, and Barry isn't there, I know... I failed in freeing Barry."
Henry's heart ached for her. He knew the pain of watching someone you love struggle with guilt, especially when the weight of that guilt felt too heavy to bear alone. Without a word, he reached out and placed a warm, steady hand on Emma's shoulder, offering her the quiet comfort only someone who had experienced loss could provide.
He looked at her, his eyes filled with understanding and a deep empathy. "Ever since Nora died," he began, his voice soft but unwavering, "and Barry saw the Reverse-Flash as a kid, he was so adamant about finding justice and clearing my name. That drive... that fire, it never left him. Even after he got his powers, he fought the Reverse-Flash, believing that he was getting closer to freeing me." He exhaled slowly, his gaze turning distant for a moment as if remembering his own son's journey. "He never lost out on hope, Emma. And I know, in your heart, you haven't either. Not when everything is on the line for the person you love."
Emma blinked, her breath catching in her throat. Her chest tightened, and for a moment, she felt something shift inside her—like the fog had parted just a little. She managed a small smile, her eyes softening as she met Henry's gaze. "Thank you," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"For what?" Henry asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. He gave her a gentle, reassuring squeeze on her shoulder, as if to remind her that the conversation wasn't over yet—there was still more to say, more healing to be done.
"For understanding," Emma replied, her smile widening a fraction as she looked up at him. "I needed to hear that. I... I needed to know that it's okay to still have hope."
Henry nodded slowly, his face softening. "I understand more than you think, Emma. More than anyone can truly know." He gave her a small, knowing smile. "Now, how about we get back to that feast before Joe's mac n' cheese is gone, or your mom's lasagna runs out?"
Emma raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking upward in a teasing smile. "Clearly, you don't know my mom," she replied, her voice lightening. "She always has a second or third pan ready in the oven after the first one comes out. It's a family favorite."
The corners of Henry's mouth twitched as he gave a soft chuckle. "Well, if that's the case, I'll just have to get in line early to make sure I get a helping. And don't think I've forgotten about that mac n' cheese of Joe's. I'll be making my rounds." His voice was warm with humor, the easygoing nature of the moment grounding them both in the familiarity of family life—something that, despite everything, still held its own sense of joy.
Emma smiled at him, feeling a slight weight lift off her shoulders. There was still much to be done, so many unanswered questions, and an impossible task ahead. But for now, the simple act of walking back to the warmth of family, the comfort of shared meals and laughter, was enough.
As they turned back toward the house, Henry's hand still lightly resting on her shoulder, Emma felt a renewed sense of connection—to Henry, to her mother, to the people who loved her and Barry, and to Hope, who would always be the thread that kept everything together. And for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself a glimmer of hope, small but bright, that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to bring Barry back.
Suited up and ready for action, Cisco and Wally emerged through a breach, the air shimmering with the energy of their arrival. Emma, her eyes already scanning the horizon, flew in just behind them, landing lightly on the cracked asphalt with a gust of wind, her boots making a soft thud as she joined the two. The trio stood in the middle of the empty street, their senses on high alert. They instinctively looked up, just in time to see something streak across the sky—a blur too fast to identify.
"What the hell was that?" Wally muttered, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make sense of the movement.
A car came to a screeching halt behind them, and Joe, always quick on his feet, jumped out of the driver's seat. His hand hovered over the holster of his gun as he surveyed the area. "What are we looking at?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern.
Back in the Cortex, Caitlin's voice crackled through their comms, concern lacing her tone. "Guys, what's going on down there? Talk to me."
Cisco's eyes widened as he squinted into the sky, his breath catching slightly. "Holy Ronin," he muttered, barely able to process what he was seeing. A figure in full armor, resembling a samurai, flew overhead, his silhouette dark against the setting sun. As he lowered himself toward the street, the metallic clang of his armor echoed through the air.
The samurai landed softly but with a heavy presence, his stance rigid, his katanas gleaming ominously. His every movement was calculated, predatory. The sound of his boots hitting the ground seemed to reverberate in the stillness of the street, as if the city itself was holding its breath.
Joe's hand shot to his gun, instinctively aiming it at the armored figure, his eyes narrowing. "It's a samurai," he muttered to no one in particular, his finger hovering near the trigger, but not yet pulling it. His expression was taut, every muscle in his body ready to react.
Cisco, never one to shy away from the absurdity of situations, glanced at Wally, then at Emma. "Anybody speak Japanese?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, clearly unsure of how they were supposed to handle this.
Emma, stepping forward with purpose, didn't hesitate for a second. She straightened her posture and addressed the samurai directly in fluent Japanese. "What do you want?"
Cisco's eyes widened in shock as he turned toward her, his jaw slack. "Tell me she did not just speak Japanese," he said, half disbelieving.
Emma shot him a side-eye but didn't take her focus off the samurai. "I can do a lot of things," she replied, her voice cool and steady as she turned back to face the armored figure. In perfect Japanese, she continued, "We don't want to hurt you."
The samurai's eyes glinted with an unreadable intensity as he tilted his head slightly, sizing them up. His voice, when it came, was harsh, but it was in English. "The Flash."
Wally raised an eyebrow, flashing a grin. "Yeah, you're looking at him, pal," he said, leaning into the role with his usual confidence.
The samurai's eyes narrowed, and he took a slow step forward, his stance becoming even more imposing. "You're not the Flash," he stated with a cold finality. "You're not the best. Bring me the Flash."
Cisco crossed his arms, his usual snark slipping back into place despite the tension in the air. "I'm sensing an 'or else,'" he said, clearly not impressed with the samurai's bravado.
The samurai's lips curled into something like a sneer. "Or else, your city falls," he replied, his voice steady and ominous, each word carrying the weight of a threat that felt too real.
Joe, never one to back down from a challenge, took a step forward, his voice firm. "The Flash ain't coming," he said, his eyes fixed on the samurai as his hand tightened on his gun.
Cisco, never one to miss a beat, added with a smirk, "Furthermore, Mifune, we're gonna need you to sheath that sword before somebody gets hurt." He gestured between himself, Wally, and Emma. "Somebody like you, for instance, 'cause you're up against some bad amigos."
Wally, not missing a chance to play the tough guy, gave a quick nod. "Yeah, now, what do you think you're gonna do against us with a sword?" he challenged, stepping slightly forward to stand alongside Cisco, the tension crackling in the air.
Without warning, the samurai moved with lightning speed, flourished his katana, and slammed the blade into the pavement. The sound of metal meeting concrete was deafening, followed by an ear-splitting shockwave that erupted from the point of impact. The force of it hit the ground like a bomb, sending out a pulse of energy that hurled the group back. Streetlights shattered in a cascade of glass, and one of the nearby cars was flipped over, landing upside down in a fiery mess.
Joe hit the ground hard, groaning as pain shot through his body. He slowly pushed himself up, a grimace of pain twisting his face as he checked his surroundings. "You guys okay?" he asked, clearly struggling to regain his bearings.
Cisco, Wally, and Emma slowly sat up, wincing as they each felt the aftereffects of the shockwave. Emma gritted her teeth, pushing through the dizziness and soreness. Cisco groaned, shaking his head as he pulled himself to his feet, his hand clutching his ribs. Wally was already on his feet, his expression tight with frustration but his body relatively unharmed.
Cisco coughed, looking at the crater left in the street where the samurai had driven his sword into the ground. "The hell kind of sword is that?" he asked, trying to process what had just happened. The shockwave still lingered in the air, vibrating the ground beneath them, and the echoes of the explosion were still ringing in his ears.
The samurai, unfazed by the chaos he had just caused, stood tall and pointed his sword directly at them. "You have one day," he said coldly, his voice carrying through the wreckage. "If the Flash does not face me, Central City dies."
With that, he turned sharply, igniting a jetpack hidden beneath his armor. The roar of the engines filled the air as he shot up into the sky, his silhouette disappearing into the clouds with breathtaking speed.
Emma watched him vanish, her chest tight with frustration and a deep, gnawing worry. She pressed her lips together, feeling the weight of the samurai's words heavy on her heart. The city was in danger, and with Barry still lost in the Speed Force, the time was quickly running out.
***
The team had returned to S.T.A.R. Labs, their faces set with determination as they entered the Cortex. Everyone had gathered around the large screens in the control room, their eyes fixed on the live broadcast. The news anchor's voice crackled through the speakers, recounting the chaos that had unfolded earlier in Central City.
"The Flash hasn't been seen in almost six months, leaving us to speculate if Nightingale can save us from this newest threat on her own?"
The camera zoomed in on the armored samurai, hovering over the wreckage of the street, his sword raised triumphantly. Wally, still nursing an ice pack on his shoulder, leaned back against the nearest console, his gaze focused on the screen. "There are other superheroes in this town," he muttered, his voice laced with frustration, the tension of the day still hanging heavily on his shoulders.
"Yeah, and your boy Kurosawa over there blew us away like rag dolls, performing his reverse Excalibur," Cisco replied, his voice dry and tinged with sarcasm. He ran a hand through his hair, still reeling from the shockwave that had nearly knocked them all unconscious. "We haven't faced anything like this before. It's not just a street-level baddie we can punch through. This guy means business."
Joe, who had been pacing the room, looked over at Cisco, his brow furrowed. "Why do you think he only wanted the Flash?" he asked, his voice steady but filled with curiosity. He crossed his arms, trying to piece together what the samurai was after.
Cisco glanced over at Joe, his expression serious. "He said he wants to fight the best," he answered, his voice sharp. "That means he's been studying. He's not just some random mercenary. He's got a clear goal, and it involves the Flash."
The sound of Iris' voice cut through the tension in the room. "He's threatening to destroy the city," she said, her voice tight with anxiety. "Do we think he can do it?"
Joe was the first to answer, his voice blunt and filled with certainty. "I say yes," he replied, his eyes scanning the screen, as if expecting the samurai to appear again at any moment. "He's got the resources, the power. We can't underestimate him."
Cisco nodded gravely. "Then he has to fight the Flash," he said, his words ringing with the weight of truth. "If we're going to stop him, Barry's the only one who can go toe-to-toe with this guy. But... he's not here. And this guy's not going to wait around for us to figure things out."
Emma, who had been silently processing everything, stepped forward, her mind already racing with possibilities. "You told me after the potluck you were going to contact Harry," she said, her voice steady but urgent. "Did he send a message?"
Caitlin, who had been reviewing data on her tablet, looked up from her screen and smiled. "He did a whole lot better," she said, her expression shifting from concern to something resembling hope. "We're going to Ferris Air."
The mention of Ferris Air was enough to snap everyone's attention back to Caitlin. Wally raised an eyebrow, clearly curious. "Ferris Air? What's at Ferris Air?" he asked, trying to piece together the connection.
Emma's eyes widened as the pieces clicked together. "We have a shot at getting Barry back."
***
Their plan had been set. The team had hoped that the Speed Force Bazooka, combined with a quark sphere, would be the key to bringing Barry back. The idea was to energize the quark sphere, tricking the Speed Force into thinking Barry was still there, in its grip, somehow tethered to their world. The tension in the air was palpable as they fired up the Bazooka and locked it onto the sphere, watching the machinery hum to life. The computer buzzed for a moment, locking in the connection to the Speed Force.
But then, just as quickly as it had all started, the system failed.
"System failure," the computer screen blinked in cold red letters, and the room fell into stunned silence.
Cisco looked at the screen, his face dropping in disbelief. "We failed," he muttered, his voice low, almost defeated. "It didn't work."
Emma watched him, her stomach sinking with the weight of failure. She had held onto hope, but seeing the machine malfunction felt like a harsh slap to the face. She turned to Caitlin, her expression filled with frustration and concern.
But before anyone could say anything more, an incoming call broke through the tension.
"What?" Joe said, his voice filled with surprise as he answered Cecile's call. "Where?"
"State police picked him up on the 112 outside of Ivy City," Cecile answered, her voice warm but still tinged with professional urgency.
"That's 300 miles away," Joe said, disbelief lacing his tone. "How the hell did he end up that far?"
"Yeah, one of the cops was a Keystone vet," Cecile explained. "He recognized Barry. From his time in Central City."
Cisco, ever the optimist, let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I knew it would work," he said, his voice triumphant. "I knew we could pull him out."
Emma's lips curled into a smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I knew it," she whispered. She could hardly believe it—after all the uncertainty, after all the time spent in limbo, they had found him. He was back.
But Cecile's face quickly turned serious, her tone more measured. "You should prepare yourselves," she said gently, gesturing for them to follow her. "He's not... exactly the way you remember him."
The team followed Cecile down the narrow hallways of CCPD, their footsteps heavy in the quiet. Emma's heart pounded in her chest, but her steps were quick, almost desperate to see him, to know that he was truly here, in this place, finally found.
As they entered the room, Emma's breath caught in her throat. Barry was sitting, facing the wall. His posture was rigid, almost unnatural, and the dim light cast long shadows over him. Symbols were scrawled across the walls, faint scribbles that Emma didn't immediately recognize, their meanings hidden in the chaos. The room felt cold, as if it was encasing him in a strange bubble—both a prison and a sanctuary.
"Barry?" Emma called softly, stepping closer. She tried to keep her voice steady, though the flood of emotions threatened to break through. Her heart ached at the sight of him.
Barry turned his head slowly, the faintest flicker of recognition crossing his face before he started to smile. His hair was a little longer, more tousled, and his jawline had a scruff of a beard that made him look different. Older, even, in a way she couldn't explain.
Her breath hitched. "Barry..." The word was soft, almost a whisper, but it carried everything she had been holding back for months.
He stood up abruptly, looking at everyone in the room with a sense of confusion, as though trying to place them all in his fragmented mind. His eyes finally met hers, but there was something strange in them—something distant, almost lost.
"Nora shouldn't be here," Barry said, his voice a low murmur, his eyes flickering with confusion as he scanned the room, seemingly not fully aware of who was standing before him. His expression was pained, unsettled.
Emma frowned, her heart sinking further. "Your mom isn't here, Barry. It's... it's me, Emma. You're home."
For a moment, Barry looked at her, his expression flickering between recognition and complete bewilderment. "I... I don't understand," he said, his voice trailing off as if the words weren't his own. His eyes darted around again, searching for something—or someone—else.
He suddenly turned to Cecile, as if grasping at straws. "Your Honor," he said, his voice becoming more agitated. "I'm innocent. I didn't do this. I didn't kill anyone."
His gaze shifted toward Joe, his eyes wild. "Can you hear the stars? Singing," Barry said suddenly, his voice rising in pitch. "Rhyming. Chiming. Timing. Every hour, every minute."
He clutched his head, his eyes squinting as though he was in unbearable pain. "The city was safe, you said," he accused Joe. "That there was no residual danger. But that's not true. What really happened that night?"
"The city is safe," Emma said quickly, stepping closer, her voice firm but soothing. "You saved it. You saved us all."
Barry's wild eyes found her once again, and this time, he smiled—a small, fragile smile that made Emma's heart twist in her chest. She couldn't help herself—tears welled in her eyes as she smiled back, relief flooding her entire body.
But the moment was fleeting, and as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Barry's face shifted again, his expression distant. "Stars melting like ice cream," he murmured, almost as though speaking to himself. "Dream. Gleam." His hand rubbed across his mouth as he wandered to the window, his movements slow and disjointed. "Nothing seems... Nora shouldn't be here."
Joe, standing off to the side, exchanged a concerned glance with Caitlin. "I'm guessing this isn't just shock," he said quietly, his voice filled with an edge of worry.
Caitlin's face tightened as she studied Barry, her medical expertise kicking in. "Shock results from a drop in blood pressure," she explained calmly, though her tone was far from reassuring. "This is neurological. This is different."
Barry spun around suddenly, his eyes wide with manic energy. "It's a whole new way of looking at physics," he rambled, his words tumbling out in a rush. "It will change the way that we think about everything." He gestured wildly, his hands tracing invisible patterns in the air. "From a single atom to an entire galaxy."
He screamed in pain, the raw sound tearing through the room, causing everyone to flinch. Barry bent over, clutching his head as if the very universe was colliding inside his mind. "The stars are so loud," he cried, his voice trembling with intensity. "Loud. Cloud. Proud."
Emma felt a sharp pang in her chest, her own hands instinctively reaching toward him as if to comfort him, but she was powerless. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, her whole body vibrating with distress.
"Dad and I are both okay. We're gonna be fine," Barry muttered, his voice slipping back into incoherence. He straightened, looking around with blank confusion. "I'm just not sure I'm like you, Oliver."
Caitlin stepped forward, her voice calm and measured. "We need to get him back to S.T.A.R. Labs now," she said, her voice carrying a note of urgency.
Joe and Caitlin moved quickly toward Barry, their eyes filled with concern. Without hesitation, Caitlin injected him with a sedative, the needle slipping easily into his arm. As the sedative took effect, Barry's body sagged, and he collapsed forward, his unconscious form crumpling toward the floor.
Joe caught him in his arms, holding Barry carefully. His expression was grim, his gaze shifting to Emma. "It's not over yet," he said quietly, as if trying to reassure her, though his voice held no certainty.
Emma watched as Joe and Caitlin carefully lifted Barry's limp body, her heart heavy with the uncertainty of what lay ahead. There was still so much they didn't understand, but one thing was clear—Barry wasn't the same. Whatever the Speed Force had done to him, they would need to find a way to bring him back completely.
***
Barry was lying unconscious on a hospital bed in the med bay, his body still but his mind a tumult of confusion and disorder. The faint beeping of medical machines filled the room, keeping time with the heavy silence hanging over everyone. Joe paced, looking over to where Caitlin was inspecting Barry's vitals on a monitor, her brow furrowed in concentration. The tension in the room was thick, and everyone knew that they were standing at the edge of something much bigger than they could fully understand.
Joe finally broke the silence. "What's the diagnosis?" he asked, his voice low and full of concern. "Does he have brain damage or something?"
Caitlin turned away from the monitor, her eyes tired but sharp. "He's actually scary healthy," she answered, though her tone was laced with uncertainty. "His neural transmitters are functioning at five times the normal speed. He's physically fine, maybe even better than before."
"So what's wrong with him, then?" Iris asked, her voice trembling slightly as she stepped closer to the bed, watching Barry's steady breathing with worry etched into her features.
Caitlin let out a breath, and with a reluctant glance toward the screen, she began. "I have two theories." She tapped a few keys, and the brain scan appeared on the monitor in front of them. "The first one is that he's suffering from a form of schizophasia."
"Schizophasia?" Joe repeated, frowning as he turned to Caitlin for clarification.
Caitlin nodded, bringing up an image of the brain scan on the screen. "It's where the brain assigns the wrong definitions to words. Essentially, his mind is scrambling his thoughts and words. The gibberish he's speaking—all that nonsense—it's coming from his perception, which is distorted, but to him, it makes sense."
Joe looked at the screen, his expression softening with understanding. "So, from his perspective, all that nonsense he's saying makes sense," he murmured, piecing it together.
"Exactly," Caitlin confirmed. "He's trying to communicate, but his brain isn't connecting the right words to the right ideas. It's like having the right thoughts but speaking a completely different language."
Wally, leaning against the doorframe, looked at the monitor with a sigh. "Too bad we don't have a translator."
Caitlin gave a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "No, but we can make one."
Everyone turned to look at Cisco, who had just entered the Cortex, his usual easy-going demeanor replaced with a look of focus. "If his brain is schizophastic," Cisco said, tapping away at his console, "and these symbols on the walls are part of his mental map of the world, they could be representing different words or thoughts. We just need the right algorithm to decrypt them." He spun around to face the others, his eyes bright with determination. "I can work with this. It's not impossible."
Emma, who had been standing at the back of the room, listening intently, felt a surge of hope, but it was fleeting. She wasn't sure if a simple algorithm could solve the mess Barry's mind was trapped in. She took a deep breath, trying to push down her own fears. "You said you had two theories," she said, her voice steady but carrying the weight of her concern. "What's the other one?"
Caitlin met her gaze, her expression shifting to something more solemn, more grave. "We know that the Speed Force exists beyond space and time. To us, Barry was only gone for six months, but to him... it could have been 10,000 years," she explained, her voice softening as she spoke, as though she were walking them through a dark thought. "All that time, alone, in isolation—it could have caused dementia. His mind could have... deteriorated." She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. "That may be all that's left of him. And it might not be something we can fix."
The room fell into a heavy silence. Emma's heart dropped into her stomach as she absorbed Caitlin's words. The thought of losing Barry—really losing him—after everything they'd been through, was more than she could bear. "No," she whispered to herself, but even she wasn't sure if she was trying to convince herself or Barry. She had to hold onto the hope that they could find him again. She just had to.
Joe's jaw tightened, his eyes hardening. "So, how do we find out which one it is?" he asked, his voice low but full of resolve.
Caitlin nodded, glancing at her colleagues. "I could decrease the sedative, wake him up, and see what kind of response we get. That might tell us which theory is more accurate." She seemed almost reluctant, her fingers hovering over the controls. "But it's risky. If he's lost in his own mind, it might make things worse."
Cisco leaned in, crossing his arms and looking thoughtful. Then, after a beat, he grinned, a glint of mischief returning to his eyes. "I think I've got the perfect song for that," he said, and his grin widened.
***
Cisco stood by the console, his fingers tapping with nervous energy, as the familiar opening chords of Lady Gaga's Poker Face began to play through the Cortex speakers. He shot a quick glance at Caitlin, who was standing next to Barry's bed, shining a light into his eyes in an attempt to gauge his responsiveness.
"Are you sure this is appropriate?" Caitlin asked, raising an eyebrow as the music swelled in the background. She seemed unconvinced, but Cisco only gave her a grin of confidence.
"Yeah, it's a good luck charm," Cisco answered, his voice light but carrying the weight of a long-standing joke. "I mean, it worked before on him."
Caitlin's expression didn't shift. "That was when he was in a coma, Cisco. Barry just escaped a pantemporal extradimension. This isn't exactly the same thing."
Cisco shrugged, his grin widening. "Well, then waking up to Gaga shouldn't seem too freaky." He gave a playful wink at Barry, who was still unresponsive in the bed. "Hey, Barry. It's me. Cisco. Aka Vibe. Aka your BFF. Yeah, you remember me?"
A beat passed. Then, slowly, Barry's eyes fluttered open. He looked around, groggily taking in the room as though he were trying to make sense of everything.
"Hey, buddy," Cisco said, his voice softening. "You're back with us, man."
Barry blinked, his gaze sweeping over the room, a flicker of recognition sparking in his eyes as he slowly processed the faces around him. Wally waved cheerfully, though his usual energy was tempered with concern, and Iris smiled with a mixture of relief and worry.
"Hey," Emma greeted, her voice gentle, though her heart was racing in her chest. Hope, perched on Emma's hip, waved shyly at her father.
Barry's gaze finally landed on them. His eyes seemed lost, distant, but he seemed to focus on his family for a moment, then slowly moved to the others.
While the room waited for Barry to fully comprehend where he was, Cisco clapped his hands together. "So, while you were gone, I made you a new suit," he said, his voice trying to stay upbeat. "Do you wanna take it out for a spin?"
Barry's brow furrowed, and he muttered, almost to himself, "The stars are raining... Draining... Paining... Too soon."
He slowly sat up, his movements sluggish, and slid off the bed. "I think maybe later," he murmured, as if responding to a conversation that was only happening in his own head. "No, thank you. I'm not hungry."
His gaze turned toward Joe, who stood by the door, arms crossed. Barry's voice became a little more frantic. "He didn't do those things. He didn't hurt my mom. I was there that night. There was a man. Plan." His hand went to his head, and he groaned. "No plan."
Barry chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down Emma's spine. "We're gonna need more diapers," he muttered absently, before turning back to the glass of the med bay, as though it was calling to him.
"Diapers?" Cisco repeated, blinking in confusion. "Okay, we'll circle back to that later. But hey, you keep drawing, buddy. You keep drawing, and I'm going to figure this out." Cisco nodded with determination, though the situation felt more unsettling by the second.
Barry had begun sketching symbols on the glass wall with his finger, each stroke deliberate but frenzied. His eyes glazed over, as though he could see things no one else could.
Caitlin, still observing, caught Joe's eye, a silent question passing between them. "Caitlin?" Joe asked, his voice carrying a mixture of concern and frustration. "Why is he acting like this? What's going on with him?"
Caitlin shook her head, her eyes reflecting the same uncertainty everyone else was feeling. "I don't know," she admitted quietly. "This isn't just shock... something's not right."
Barry chuckled again, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, as he continued to write symbols. His body swayed slightly as if the very act of drawing was grounding him, but his mind seemed to be somewhere far beyond them.
Emma's throat tightened as she watched her husband—the man she loved—break into a version of himself that was barely recognizable. She couldn't just stand there, not knowing if this was all that was left of him. Something needed to change. And fast.
"Guys, can I get the room for a second?" Emma requested, her voice soft but firm. She shifted Hope to her side, holding the toddler in her arms with a tenderness that masked the turmoil she felt inside. "Hope, sweetie, I'm going to chat with your daddy for a bit."
Hope looked up at her, worry in her small eyes. "Daddy doesn't make sense. Is he okay?"
"He will be," Caitlin reassured her gently, placing a comforting hand on Hope's shoulder as the others stepped out of the room.
The door clicked shut behind them, and Emma stood alone with Barry, her heart aching with every step closer she took.
"Barry?" Emma called out, her voice small as she approached him. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "I don't know if you can hear me. Or if you're trying to send us a message somehow."
She paused, her voice breaking as the weight of everything finally came crashing down on her. "Hey, I did what you told me to. I kept running. I kept moving forward. Because I knew that if I stopped to look back, I would remember that you weren't behind me anymore. Watching for me and Hope." She swallowed hard, her breath hitching. "And it's been so hard. I never imagined this. I don't know what I'd do if this is all that's left of you. If this is all that's left of the amazing man I know and love." Another tear fell, and she didn't try to stop it. "Please come back to me. To us."
Barry didn't respond, his focus still lost in the symbols. He continued to stand, writing—his movements mechanical yet fraught with hidden depth. Emma moved closer, leaning her head against his shoulder, pressing into him as if trying to feel the Barry she knew beneath the turmoil. "Tell me you're still my Barry."
Then, suddenly, Barry's whole body began to vibrate violently, his skin crackling with raw energy. Emma jerked back, panic rising in her chest as she took in his glowing eyes.
"Guys!" Emma called out, her voice laced with alarm.
Barry shot into motion, moving faster than the eye could follow. His lightning-bright speed tore through the Cortex, every corner of the room a blur. Wally and Iris barely had time to react before they were thrown back by the force of his movement, crashing to the ground as though they were weightless.
"Damn!" Joe shouted, his voice laced with authority as he held up his hands in an attempt to stop Barry. "Barry, stop!"
But it was too late. The force of Barry's speed threw Joe back with brutal force, sending him crashing into a row of computer screens, knocking sparks into the air.
"Bring him to the pipeline!" Emma shouted, her heart racing as the chaos unfolded around her.
Cisco rushed to the console, trying to open a breach, but the system rejected him. "He's too fast!" Cisco cursed, his hands flying across the keys with frustration.
Just as things seemed hopeless, a sudden burst of cold air slammed through the room. Barry froze mid-motion and collapsed to the ground with a deafening crash.
Emma looked up to see Caitlin standing in the doorway, transformed into Killer Frost. Ice curled off her hands as she protectively shielded Hope, the child looking confused but safe.
Joe's voice rang out with urgency as he pointed to Barry's still form. "We need to get him into a containment cell before he does that again."
Emma looked down at Barry, her heart heavy with concern. She had no idea what was happening to him, or if he'd ever be the man she loved again. But she couldn't give up—not when he needed her the most.
The alarm blared through the facility, signaling a new threat.
"Samurai's back," Caitlin said grimly, reverting to her normal form.
Cisco, clearly frustrated by the situation, muttered, "More like Samurai Jackass." He looked at Joe with a smirk. "No, that's a rough draft."
Iris's voice was filled with apprehension. "It hasn't even been a full day yet. He said he'd level the city if we didn't bring him the Flash."
Wally, always ready for action, clenched his fists. "Then let's give him what he asked for."
Emma nodded firmly, though her heart was heavy. They had to face the samurai—and figure out how to bring Barry back to them, before it was too late.