DCU The Flash #4 Heir to the Wand (Rebirth)

-^- Mardon Household, Central City, 1986 -^-

 

 

"What is that idiot doing!?"

 

 

From his bedroom, Marco could hear his grandfather yelling at… something. Who or what he was yelling at was too hard to discern, but he sounded angry.

 

 

"Just go to bed, Marco," Claudio, his older brother, said, propping himself up on his elbow. "He's probably yellowing at Dad for one of those dumb weather gimmicks."

 

 

"They aren't dumb, Dio," Marco said, a frown on his face. "That weather machine will be remembered forever."

 

 

"Keep telling yourself that, nerd," he responded, throwing a crumpled up paper at Marco before rolling over.

 

 

Marco pouted, opening up the paper. His eyes widened a bit, a smile overtaking his face. On the paper was his drawing he made, schematics for a "weather wand." He planned to eventually try to make one as a gift for his father, but it would take quite some time.

 

 

"He's what!?"

 

 

Marco looked out the crack of his bedroom door. Looking back at the paper, he quietly hopped out of his bed, his small feet pattering across the hardwood floor. Slipping out of the door, he traversed the hallway, making his way to the stairs. From there, he saw his grandfather, mother, and uncle watching the television; his grandfather was on the phone with someone.

 

 

"That lunatic… are you sure he's gone?" his grandfather asked, making Marco confused. "Damned idiot. I'll make funeral preparations soon… dammit."

 

 

His fist slammed into the wall, the shelves shaking slightly. "Dad…?" his uncle asked.

 

 

"Mateo is dead… the idiot killed himself," his grandfather spoke, fist clenching. Marco heard a strangled cry from his mother, falling into his uncle's arms.

 

 

'Dad…' he thought, his lip quivering and eyes beginning to water. 'Dad is…'

 

 

He felt a tear fall from his eye, the droplet landing on the schematic he held. Looking down, he saw the wet mark at the tip of the wand design. Bringing his hand to his face, he wiped away his tears, sniffling softly.

 

 

'I'll do it dad… I promise.'

 

 

-^- Present Day -^-

 

 

Marco knelt in front of the broken machine, tears running down his cheeks.

 

 

"I made a promise dad!" he yelled, slamming his fist onto the ground. "I promised you, I'd let your legacy live on!"

 

 

Seething, Marco stood, traversing to his desk in the corner of the room. Flinging the desk drawer open, he pulled out an old, slightly yellowed, piece of paper. The blue ink was splotchy, a few stains causing it to leak.

 

 

"I won't break that promise."

 

 

-^-

 

 

Barry sat in the off-balanced chair he came to know so well. The lightly stained glass window separated his father and himself, their only connection being the phone line.

 

 

"A… lightning bolt," his father, Henry Allen, asked, astounded by the claim. "A-and you aren't hurt, right?"

 

 

Barry smiled, chuckling slightly at his father's reaction. "Nope, I'm… I'm actually feeling better than ever, if not a little hungry," he reassured, leaning his chin on his open palm. "Though, I've been getting some migraines that come and go. The doctors said that's normal though."

 

 

"Thank god," his father said, his eyes tearing up slightly. "After… after that day… if I lost you too-"

 

 

"Dad, I'm here," Barry said firmly. "I'm not going anywhere, at least not until I get you out of here."

 

 

"Barry, we talked about this…"

 

 

"I know," he responded happily. "I'm done talking about it, I'm gonna do it."

 

 

"Barry…"

 

 

"Allen, your time is up," called one of the guards, walking over to Henry.

 

 

"Don't worry about me dad, honest," Barry said, smiling at his father. "I'm fine."

 

 

His dad smiled, nodding his head, "Alright son… just don't fumble this time with Iris, 'kay?"

 

 

"Alright," Barry said, chuckling. "Love you."

 

 

"Love you too."

 

 

Barry stood from the chair, watching as his dad was handcuffed and taken away from the visiting area. His fist clenched slightly, the same it always did when he saw his father being dragged away.

 

 

He'd free him, that was a promise.

 

 

Y̸̭̗̍ͅő̸͔̈́ũ̵̪̤̳̌'̶̤̻̥̽ȑ̷͎̱̞̐e̷̜̐̍ ̶͓̈́̌t̸̢̽̉̀h̸̪̜̓̅ͅe̴̯̝͗͝ ̶̳̦̃̈́͠o̷̼͝n̵̙͓̏e̵͔̰͆͗͆͜

 

 

Barry's hand shot to his head, fingers gripping his temple hard. The migraine returned, harder than it had before. He'd told everyone around him it was a simple pain, one that a few aspirin could take care of. He never expected the way his head would split upon each return.

 

 

S̵̥̾͒̀͜t̸͎̒́͜o̸̞̓̇͘p̶̨͇̹̉̐̎ ̸̦͍̪̈r̷͓͒͒ë̵̮͇́̅͆s̷̘̓i̴̱̤̎̉͝s̷͙̻̽̂t̵̞̿̒̆i̸̧̛̩̻̅̈́n̷̙͈̲͑̌ģ̵̯̂

 

 

"Sir… are you okay?" one of the guards asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I can get you a doctor if you-"

 

 

"Nope," Barry mumbled, working up a smile. "I'm good, thanks though. I'll be going."

 

 

"Alright?"

 

 

Barry stumbled out of the room, his hand landing against the wall to brace himself.

 

 

T̷͖̰͓̄̄h̴̙̓͗i̸̧̱̲͘s̶̻̑̌ ̸̢̦̘̂̍͠ĭ̴͖̺̼̐s̵̭̺͋ ̴̧͖̆͌̔f̵̳̠̏̏̄ơ̵̩r̶͘͝ͅ ̴̖̗̽̒̒ý̸̝̔ȏ̶̮̜ữ̸͓̠̳̅r̸̼̈͌ ̴͇̗̓̕̕ŏ̴͈͛͒w̸͈̩͌n̶͙̞̈́͝ ̵͔̈̄̏g̴̯̀ǫ̴̺̓͝ͅọ̴̢̫́ḍ̶̪͊̿

 

 

Barry groaned, tears building up in his eyes. This was the worst, there wasn't a debate. A voice called to him, but the words were hard to make out; the pain was distracting him too much and the words were distorted.

 

 

Barry felt his body weight shift, his head turning to the wall he was braced on. his eyes widened watching his arm fall through the wall, bringing his head to crash against the wall, hard. His body began tumbling, his eyes slowly falling. Before they shut, he watched his own arm come out of the wall, as if it were intangible.

 

 

It was the last thing he saw before falling unconscious.

 

 

-^-

 

 

Jay felt a cool breeze against his skin. Looking down, he saw his hands were nothin but a red blur, his body the same. He'd done it, the new one's body had finally succumbed to the speedforce.

 

 

20 minutes earlier

 

 

"Jay, honey, are you sure about this?" Joan asked, holding a silver bowl-like helmet above Jay's head. Connected to the helmet were multiple jumper cables, all being plugged into a battery on the floor.

 

 

"Don't worry, Joan," Jay reaffirmed. "I've lived this long, I don't plan to go just yet."

 

 

The woman nodded her head, placing the helmet onto her husband's head. Stepping over to the battery, she mumbled a quick prayer, before turning the device on. Her husband jumped, her hand shooting to turn the machine off.

 

 

"No… Joan," Jay said, teeth clenched. "I..

 

I'm alright."

 

 

Joan was hesitant, but nodded.

 

 

"So… you're… the one?" Jay asked, golden lightning dancing around his body. "You… can complete it?

 

 

"Kid… what're you… stop resisting," he ordered, his voice becoming more strained. "It's… you're gonna hurt yourself."

 

 

"I've gotta… activate it…" he said, veins bulging from his forehead. "This is for your own good."

 

 

At that instant, his body became engulfed in lightning, forcing Joan backwards. She turned the battery off, but his body stayed inside the swirl of gold.

 

 

"Be safe, Jay."

 

 

'Alright then,' Jay thought, bringing himself to a stand. He looked around the room he was in; a small kitchen, the dining table set for two. He walked around the room, eyeing the fridge. On it was a chore list.

 

 

Barry: Toy Round Up, Bed Maker

 

 

Malcolm: Dish Duty, Assistant Chef

 

 

Daddy: Trash Man, Bills :p

 

 

Mommy: Vacuuming, Head Chef

 

 

'Where the devil am I?'

 

 

-^-

 

 

A blast of air burst down the building's doors, countless people running out screaming. Stepping into the room was Marco Mardon, body covered in black robes with yellow and silver armor plating his arms. His cape and hair blew in with the light breeze coming from outside.

 

 

"What the fuck?" Claudio said, his face full of confusion.

 

 

Marco stared at him, one eye still swollen from the wrench swing. As the breeze died down, Marco began walking toward his brother, eyes narrowing the closer he got.

 

 

"Dio…" he greeted, watching his brother rise from his chair.

 

 

"What the hell are you doing!?" His brother screamed, pointing to the empty room. "You scared off everyone in the damn building!"

 

 

"That's not important," he responded, shifting his right arm. His brother's eyes fell to his hand, the confused look from earlier returning. "It's time, I perfected it."

 

 

"Don't tell me…"

 

 

"Yeah, it is," Marco said, a small smile forming as he raised the silver rod into the air. "Dad's dream… I can finally make it a reality."

 

 

"I thought I told you…" his brother began, face beginning to turn red with anger, "to stop with that failure's-"

 

 

"He isn't a failure!" Marco shouted, activating the rod.

 

 

Suddenly, papers in the room began to swirl into the air. Claudio stumbled backwards, falling into his chair. He quickly reached into his blazer, pulling out a handgun and pulling the trigger. The bullet was blown away by the wind, lodging itself in the wall.

 

 

Marco's eyes widened, the whirlwind around them stopping. His head turned to the wall, fixating on the bullet hole.

 

 

"Look, Marco…"

 

 

Marco's head turned back to Claudio, eyes no longer having any light in them. Moisture began forming around Claudio, the droplets of water slowly becoming a single mass. Claudio swiped at the bubble of water as it lifted him into the air, his attempts at escape all futile.

 

 

Marco turned, beginning to make his way out of the building.

 

 

"Mar...co…"

 

 

Marco turned his head. In the reflection of the bubble, he saw himself, only nine years old. Inside the bubble his brother, fourteen, struggled and begged for his help.

 

 

Clenching his fist, he dropped the bubble, water splashing on the floor. His brother gagged, spitting out water and gasping in air.

 

 

"I want you to watch me," he said, turning back to the door. "You'll see that dad wasn't a failure."

 

 

NEXT TIME: The Speedforce Lives?

Done