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Barry isn't deluded enough to think that his past would stay hidden from his new team forever. They're smart, deductive people who could easily put two in two together if they had any reason to.
So, he had a plan. A very loose plan. A set of plans that depending on the outcome of the earlier steps could lead to several sub-plans.
But he had hoped it could be on his terms. To somehow find a way to ease the blow of "I was the Pakhan of the Bratva and countless people have died not at my hand but because of me, but hey! Please still let me be The Flash."
It wouldn't be easy but surely he could figure it out.
None of his plans had accounted for time travel.
Well, his fantasies did. The hypothetical, unrealistic daydreams where he wondered what he would change if he could go back in time.
He never thought he'd actually be able to!
It starts like this.
A meta woman comes to STAR Labs asking for help. She's developed an ability that has been making things around her disappear and she can't figure out if it's some sort of teleportive displacement or if she's fully temporarily vaporizing them.
It's not a touch based power nor is there any rhyme or reason why they are what disappear.
She's afraid her disappearing will grow more frequent or the amount of things she disappears.
Caitlin of course immediately brings her back to do some initial genetic testing while Barry (as The Flash) and Hartley ask her some questions about her experiences, Cisco transcribing their conversation with his tech.
It's mainly proximity based though not correlated to repetition of interaction. It can happen as frequently as once an hour and as infrequently as once a month. There is no pattern. There is no indication to where they go.
But. There is one upside. The items do return back exactly where she left them.
The time they're gone also varies and the state they return in do as well.
All in all: not much conclusive data to build off on.
"Are there any signs that it will happen?"
She shakes her head. "No. No physical indication. Sometimes I don't even notice they're gone right away. It just happens."
Caitlin and Hartley share a look and Barry wishes he could decipher it.
"Alright. Well, I'm gonna take a look at these tests and see if there's any specific anomaly in your meta gene—"
"Thank you," she says, nodding gratefully.
"Of course," Barry says. "That's what we're here for. To help—"
And suddenly the world lurches around him and he finds himself landing hard onto a cold, snowy ground.
He hears the chorus of groans beside him and is both relieved and concerned that whatever happened also happened to Caitlin, Cisco, and Hartley.
"Well," Cisco says with a whine of pain, "it's definitely a displacement of some kind."
"Is this… snow?" Caitlin says. "It's June."
"Perhaps we're on the other side of the hemisphere," Hartley says. "There's no telling how far from home we are."
As Barry blinks away the snowy grime that stuck to his mask, he stills. "We're in Russia."
"How can you tell?" Caitlin asks.
Because I know exactly where we are, Barry doesn't say. Because we're down the street from the Solntsevkaya Bratva.
"I'm guessing you can't just run home," Cisco says.
"Unless I run across the Bering Strait, no," Barry says. "Give me a second. I'm gonna do a perimeter check."
What he doesn't say is he's going to check to see if Anatoly is at this base and if he can pull some strings to get them a plane back to the states.
He starts to run through the halls and nearly faceplants into a wall when he sees something he never expected to see.
Himself.
He's clearly a few years younger than Barry, though not new to the Bratva. His clean slicked back hair and expensive suit are hint enough to the fact that he's in his Pakhan days. The gun on his hip is even bigger hint, one that he got later in his reign, though lost before he reunited with Ollie.
So, he's approximately in the height of his bloodbath through this side of Russia.
Great.
Plan. He needs a plan. He… doesn't have a plan for this.
He can definitely just run them all to the nearest airport, but no he can't because they don't have their passports.
They could hitch a ride on a boat? And what? Also hitch a ride back to 2014?
They could hole up in a local hotel. Except they can't because everyone in a fifty mile radius knows exactly what he looks like and he can't exactly go in there in his Flash suit.
The option that leaves is… not good. It's dangerous. It's stupid. It requires revealing a whole lot of secrets he kept under tight lock and key and never intended to share.
But it's the plan that may actually give them shelter for however long they're stuck here.
Barry never wanted to fall back into the role of the man he left behind here.
But it looks like he doesn't have a choice.
Barry easily finds one of his tranquilizers and with his speed, injects his past self with it and runs back with his limp figure, dropping him on the snow by his friends.
They all startle.
"Wha— who is that?!" Caitlin exclaims.
"That," Barry says, "is me."
"Woah," Cisco says. "Dimension travel?"
"No," Barry says. "Time travel."
Hartley's eyes narrow. "And you know this because you've found your past self… in Russia."
Barry sighs. "This isn't how I wanted to tell you."
"Tell us what…?" Caitlin says slowly.
Barry is about to respond when he hears footsteps in the distance.
With another quick run to the base, he switches into a suit and fixes his hair back as well as he can, sorely out of practice and relying on muscle memory, and strips his past self of his weapons.
Squaring his stance he points his gun in the direction of the approaching figures.
Caitlin, Cisco, and Hartley immediately startle but freeze as two men make their way to them.
They too freeze when they recognize who stands there, aimed with deadly accuracy.
They stand at attention, lowering their guns.
"Boss," one man says, eyeing the body on the ground, face obscured into the snow but unconscious. "Apologies for interrupting—"
"I don't need apologies. I need you to know your place and not interfere with my business."
The man gulps nervously, turning to his companion. They share a silent nod.
"It won't happen again," his companion says and pulls him away.
Barry waits until he knows they're far enough they won't be able to hear and he lowers his gun with a shaky breath. He takes another long moment, back still turned to his friends as if that can delay the inevitable.
"That… was Russian," Cisco says.
"Astute observation, Ramon," Hartley says sharply.
"We don't have a lot of time," Barry says. "Past me's disappearance won't go unnoticed. He runs a tight ship and has a strict schedule. Taking a detour to deal with something alone without notifying anyone will gain the attention of the wrong people quick."
"Hey, wait, we can't just not address the gun shaped elephant in the room," Cisco says.
"Do you guys trust me?" Barry asks.
"Of course we do," Caitlin says.
"Well," Barry says, "I'm about to do some things that are about to make you trust me a lot less but I promise you that it's all to keep you safe."
They all grow apprehensive at his words but slowly nod, taking wary steps closer.
"What are you going to do with him?" Hartley asks.
"I've got places that should keep him out of the way while we figure out a better plan."
Barry doesn't go into specifics about what kind of place that is and they don't ask.
Once disposing (not disposing - temporarily moving) of his past self, Barry leads the three of them to the base, holding himself with a deadly grace that is unrecongizable to his friends.
No one questions the three who trail behind him, though Barry feels the inquisitive gazes of who are clearly three very nervous, out of place people, no matter how brave of a face they put on.
Barry leads them to his office and when the door closes, he lets out a shaky breath.
"Okay," Barry mutters under his breath. "I need to find my planner."
Barry doesn't miss the way his friends can see the blood staining the pair of blades sitting on his desk that he's rummaging through the drawers of.
"Aha!" Barry pulls out the thick journal and flips through its pages, noting his meticulous note taking and also noting the date. Just a few months before Ollie joins the Bratva.
He luckily has no personal executions on his to-do list for the day but will likely be dealing with the fall out from the documents he recently dropped about Ivan Ostashev, a Russian politican connected to Konstantin Kovar, the ruler of Krasnoyarsk who had been making things very difficult for him at this time.
If he remembers correctly, there will be someone in his ranks who was getting paid good money by Ostashev would try to stupidly try to get revenge…
And Barry distinctly remembers killing the man himself.
Now, Barry knows that he's already making irreperable damage just by being here, they all are, but he doesn't know what will happen if he doesn't kill the man.
The kill had made a point to those whose strings were being pulled by Kovar and who knows what the man will be capable of if he lives.
On the other hand, Barry really really doesn't want to kill anyone while his friends are here.
"Okay," Barry says. "Best case scenario: the time we spend here is equivalent or shorter than we are missing in the present day. Worse case scenario, it's longer. Either way, we have no way of telling how long we will be here or when we will get back. So we need to plan for the long term while hoping to just get zipped back to the present. And to do that, we just need to lie low. I'll get us some cash to burn and we can take the train out, find somewhere to hole up in and make as little of a difference to the past as we can. But to do that, I need to get to a car that won't go noticed being taken, get my past self back here and hope that he thinks it was just all a weird dream, and really hope he doesn't notice the missing funds."
There's a rhythmic knock on the door and Barry tenses. "Shit. You all need to hide. Now."
Knowing not to argue, the three rush to the storage closet in the corner of the room (which is unfortunately holds all of his past self's current research on his enemies and victims) as Barry makes his way to the door.
He sags just slightly in relief. "Uncle."
"Nephew," Anatoly replies. "You're back soon. I heard you were dealing with some Americans."
"Americans?" Barry repeats, shoving down his panic.
"They said they heard four voices speaking English and went to investigate."
"They're sticking their noses into things they should not," Barry says, forcing a harsh venom into his tone. "As are you."
Anatoly flinches at his words and Barry feels guilt pool in his gut.
"Did you come in here to tell me information that I was there to witness or did you have a reason to waste my time?"
"There are whispers of a traitor. Someone who—"
"Worked for Ostashev. Yes. I know."
"I see," Anatoly says, eyes searching Barry. For what, he doesn't know.
"I will deal with him when I must."
"Of course." He nods his head once and goes to the door. "Oh, and Varfolomei? Fyodor Dolokhov would like an appointment with you when you can find the availability."
"Tell him he can wait," Barry says.
Anatoly raises his gun, pointing it to Barry's forehead.
"I've already executed Fyodor Dolokhov, haven't I?"
"Yes," Anatoly says. "You have." He cocks his head. "Now, who are you and what have you done with my nephew?"
"I am your nephew."
He flicks off the safety. "Try again."
"When you showed me the photo of my mother, after the months you had told me about your Polechka, you were telling me about how she was murdered by the husband she lef the Bratva for. And I told you that he didn't. That he was innocent. That there was a man in lightning who had killed her." Barry vibrates his hand, showing off his speed, lightning crackling from the movement. "The impossible is coming, uncle. And I'm closer than ever to finding who killed her."
Anatoly's aim strays, staring wide eyed with shock. "I saw it. A flash of lightning passing by in the corner of my eye, impossibly fast, gone before I could even understand what I saw. I thought that the man in the lightning had come for you too. And then I saw you and something was… wrong. Off."
"And you thought I was an imposter."
"How could I not?" He smiles, his words switching to English for the first time in their conversation. "You were never an actor, Varfolomei. Never much of a liar either. So, who are your American friends hiding in the closet?"
Barry curses under his breath. "Friends," he says, his Russian lilt still clinging to his words. "Friends you haven't met yet."
"Are they as impossible as you?"
"Yes," Barry says. The door opens and Caitlin, Cisco, and Hartley hestitantly step out. "How did you know?"
"Your eyes," Anatoly says. "They're different. Lighter. Kinder."
The words send a pang through Barry's chest. Something tangible to tell him that things really have changed.
"Guys," Barry says. "This is my Uncle Anatoly."
"Uncle," Hartley repeats.
"We're only passing through," Barry says. "Things will go back to normal as soon as we can get what need and go."
"Go where?" Anatoly asks.
"We're still figuring that out," Barry says. "But hopefully we won't be here long."
There's gunfire in the distance and his friends jump with surprised fear.
"He's early," Barry mutters, pulling out his gun. "Guys, you might want to go back to hiding," Barry starts, but they're unable to make it back before a crazed man barrels in, grazing Anatoly's shooting arm with a knife and throwing him out of the room.
"Varfolomei Knyazevich," the man says, hatred dripping from his words, one hand gripping on his knife that drips with blood, his other trembling hand holding a gun pointed at Barry's chest. "You—"
Barry doesn't give him a chance to finish his monologue, muscle memory kicking in in the worst possible way, shooting once in the head and twice in the chest.
Caitlin screams as does Cisco and Barry flinches at the sound. He sets the gun down and creates distance between the three, holding his hands up in surrender.
"Varfolomei Knyazevich," Hartley says. "The Pakhan of the Starling Bratva."
Barry droops, knowing there's no hiding. "Yes."
"And the Solntsevkaya Bratva," Cisco says slowly. "Which is where we are, aren't we?"
Barry nods. "Yes," he says again, miserably.
"How does a Russian mob boss become a CSI in Central City?" Cisco asks. "And how could we let a Russian mob boss become a superhero?"
Hurt shoots through Barry and he tries not to acknowledge it. "A lot changed by the time I met you."
"Clearly," Cisco says.
Barry looks at Caitlin who is still shaking from seeing his brutal execution of the intruder. "Cait?"
"I… I don't understand. You were on the island with Oliver Queen for five years. When would you have—" She stops. "But you weren't, were you? You were here."
"I was," Barry says. "Not the entire time. I didn't lie about that. But Anatoly and I… we left to come here. I— I'm not going to make excuses for what I've done or who I was. You deserve better than that." He takes in a thick breath. "I can find you guys a way out on your own. Make sure you make it wherever safely. I understand if you don't feel… feel safe with me. You aren't safe with me. I should've— I should've never taken you here. Should've just ran you all to a hotel in Finland—"
"Barry," Hartley interrupts. "What's done is done. You can't go back to change it. We're here now. We know now."
"You're right," Barry says. He looks down at his watch. "My past self should be waking up soon. His tolerance for sedatives was especially high around now. I need to… I need to get him back here and get you out of here as soon as possible."
"And what about you?" Caitlin asks.
"I'll find somewhere. And we'll all go back to where we left off. Whenever that is." He smiles sadly. "Let me take you to the car." Barry leads them to his personal garage and gets them settled in the vehicle. "I just have to find the keys and you guys can get out of here."
Barry runs off, leaving the three alone finally to take in what they've just learned.
"The Russian mafia. I really wasn't expecting that one," Cisco says.
"None of us were," Caitlin says. "I can't believe… I mean, he… he killed that man like it was nothing."
"It probably was," Hartley says, "to him."
Caitlin shakes her head. "He's never killed anyone as The Flash. He doesn't even like to fight. He's always done what he could to avoid hurting the people he faces, no matter how heinous the crimes they've done."
"Probably his fucked up attempt of atonement," Hartley says. "Save enough people and maybe it can make up for how many lives he took."
Cisco feels sick at the implication. "I don't understand what changed. How the Barry he used to be and the Barry we know could be…"
Caitlin shushes Cisco. "He's back."
Barry, expression stormy, stalks towards the car and pulls a pin on a metal device.
"Uh, guys?" Cisco says. "I don't think that's our Barry."
They aren't able to escape as the window breaks and a thick smoke lulls them to sleep.
.-~*~-.
When Cisco, Caitlin, and Hartley wake up, they're tied to chairs, far away enough from each other to not be able to reach even if they were able to extend their limbs.
Barry, no, Varfolomei leans against the wall, studying the three of them with a deadly sharp gaze.
"For thieves, you're quite stupid," he says, the Russian accent thick in his voice and eyes dark with threat. "Trying to dispose of me in my own cell? Sure, it's one of my lesser known, and it would've almost been inescapable if not for the fact that the locks had not yet been replaced from the last breakout." He cocks a brow. "Didn't know that, did you?"
He picks up the pile of cash that Barry got them and thumbs through it. "One hundred thousand rubles. Rather you Americans don't know how to convert your money or you really were only trying to run off with just a little over a thousand dollars." He strides closer to them, waving his blade around. "Split between the three of you, that barely is a couple hundred each. So what exactly was your plan?"
None of them respond, stunned speechless by this unrecognizable version of their friend.
Suddenly, the man is pressing a knife to the underside of Cisco's jaw. He yelps in fear. "Do you need some encouragement, hm? Need to scream before you'll talk?"
"We just need to get over the border," Caitlin squeaks out. "Someone helped us get in and get the money."
To their relief, Varfolomei pulls away from Cisco, only to tense when he points the knife at Caitlin.
"Helped you? Was it one of my men?"
"Yes," Hartley says.
"Who?!" he demands and they all flinch back.
"Anatoly!" Cisco shouts, the only other name he knows here.
Varfolomei stills. "Anatoly, hm? And why would he do such a thing?"
"Because we know Oliver Queen," Hartley says. "We know that Anatoly was on the island with him. And with you."
"Oliver Queen is dead!" Varfolomei roars.
They all pause, realizing there's a lot of history they don't know.
"You know nothing," Varfolomei hisses. "You're grasping at straws, I can see it. And I will not let you waste my time any longer." He reaches for his gun but is knocked over by a stream of yellow lightning.
He hits the ground hard, gun clattering to the ground and shooting once.
Barry runs to catch the bullet before it lodges itself into Caitlin's leg.
Varfolomei stares with disbelief, eyes hardening. "The man in lightning," he whispers. He marches towards Barry. "Why do you wear my face? Who are you?!"
"I'm you."
"Liar!" Varfolomei spits.
"I'm not lying," Barry says, holding up his hands. "I am you from another time. And I know who the man who killed your mother is."
Varfolomei hesitates. "Who?"
"I won't tell you that."
Caitlin, Cisco, and Hartley all suck in sharp breaths.
"Barry—" Cisco starts.
"That's not my name!" Varfolomei bellows.
"No," Barry says. "It's mine." He takes a step towards his past self. "Things are going to change soon and there are things that need to change about you before you can face off with the man who killed her."
Varfolomei's eyes narrow. "You have your own lightning."
"I do," Barry says. "And I can't guaruntee you will too. Not with everything that is different now. But if there's still the chance that you will still get the chance to get these powers, I can't interfere with how you get there."
"Do we avenge her?" Varfolomei asks.
"We will," Barry says, the empty, unfulfilled promise like ash on his tongue.
And as he watches as the many emotions flicker over his past self's face, the four of them are tugged back to the present.
The three who had been tied up understandably tumble to the ground, the chairs beneath them no longer there.
The woman who sent them back is no longer in the medical cot, leaving the four of them alone, reeling from their trip to the past.
"I'm sorry," Barry says, breaking the silence. "I really was going to tell you."
"I understand why you didn't," Cisco says, surprising Barry. "And… and I know that whoever you used to be isn't who you are now."
"That doesn't make it okay," Barry says.
"Oh of course it doesn't," Hartley says. "And I think we all need time to digest what we've learned."
They do get time. And eventually, Barry tells them the truth. All of it. Trust has been lost, forgiveness has not yet been earned, but they allow him to share his past and hold their judgement until they know the whole story.
It won't be easy, building that trust again, but knowing what Barry has fought to become and to not be, they think they'll be able to find it again.