DCU The Flash #12 Practically a Joke (Lightning Strikes Twice)

"One caramel macchiato and one black coffee."

 

 

Barry watched Iris from a table located in the back of the coffee shop. Jitters had been a meetup spot the two frequented ever since highschool. While the coffee wasn't five-star quality, the atmosphere of the shop & it's owners made up for it.

 

 

Barry's mind, however, was elsewhere.

 

 

"Don't ever stop… being a hero. You might have to fight a few knuckleheads like me… but it'll be worth it."

 

 

The event replayed in Barry's head over and over again. The man smiled as his final moments occurred… smiled as Barry failed him.

 

 

"You sure you don't want any pastries?" Iris asked, causing Barry to refocus. "You usually always get one when we come."

 

 

"Ah- y-yeah…" he mumbled, accepting the drink. He took a quick sip before placing the cup down, turning his head to stare out the frosted window. "Not hungry."

 

 

Iris looked at him with a cocked eyebrow as she sat down. "Barry," she started, placing her own cup down, "are you feeling okay?"

 

 

"Yeah… why?" he asked, turning back to her.

 

 

"Because that's a plain black coffee you just drank…" she said, motioning to his cup. "You don't touch the stuff unless it's got at least three scoops of sugar and drowned in milk."

 

 

"Oh… guess it's not that bad," he replied, forcing a small smile. "Really, I'm fine."

 

 

"Barry, I don't know if I should be more insulted that you think your girlfriend would buy that, or that a reporter would," she said with a frown. Reaching across the table, she took hold of his hand. "You've been… off all day today, Barry, yesterday too. I won't force you to tell me… but you don't need to fake a smile." After a moment of silence, Iris squeezed Barry's hand before pulling away.

 

 

Barry bit the inside of his cheek to stop his mouth from opening. He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted someone on the outside to talk to, to confide in. Someone that wasn't a veteran superhero or in the line of duty, just a normal person.

 

 

The woman's phone pinged, causing Barry to raise his head, an inward sigh of both relief and disappointment. The woman across from him checked the device, sighing as she stood.

 

 

"I'm sorry Barry, my boss needs me downtown," she mumbled, picking up her drink and purse. "Apparently the Trickster is back in town?"

 

 

Barry's ears perked up at the name, remembering him as one of Jay's old foes. "It's alright, Iris," he said, standing up after her. "I'm sure I'll be called in shortly anyways."

 

 

Iris frowned once more. "Just remember I'm here, okay Barry?" Iris said, turning towards the door.

 

 

Barry didn't speak, watching the woman leave. He wanted to tell her, but he knew he couldn't. It wasn't her burden to shoulder.

 

 

-^-

 

 

A gust of wind sounded off through the street as Barry arrived. It was quiet for a Monday morning, the police were thorough with their evacuation.

 

 

Jay had told him a bit about some of his old foes. Weather Warlock, Heatmonger, The Thinker, and one of the deadliest… Trickster.

 

 

He was different from any of the villains Barry had fought during his year of crime fighting. Some wanted money, power, even simple validation. Not James Jesse though.

 

 

There was no method to the madness. There was no weather wand or flamethrower. No mirror gun or saw blade-lined suits. He was the definition of a wildcard, and that made him dangerous.

 

 

The sound of a firework caught Barry's attention, bringing his gaze to the sky. The smoke trail following the colors came from a nearby rooftop. Running up the wall, Barry came face to face with the villain, sat atop the Young Theater. The villain looked… sad, his feet dangling off the building's edge.

 

 

"Jesse," Flash called, staring at the man. "You know this ends one of two ways."

 

 

"The rumors are true," Jesse mumbled, elbows on his knees as he held up his head. "You really aren't the real Flash."

 

 

Barry frowned, walking closer to the man. "I don't have time for games, turn yourself in." he said, now mere feet away from the man.

 

 

"Yeah…" Jesse said, raising his wrists towards Barry. "Not gonna happen!"

 

 

From Jesse's wrists shot splatters of acid. Barry narrowly dodged the lethal liquid, stepping to the side, out of Jesse's range. The man leapt up from his spot on the roof, using spring-shoes to launch himself to a neighboring building.

 

 

"One thing didn't change, whoever you are," Jesse laughed, landing on one foot, striking a pose, "you're still as gullible as ever, streaky."

 

 

Barry frowned, watching as the green-haired man pulled out a metallic fish from his belt. "I don't have time for this!" Barry yelled out, making a beeline towards Jesse. Leaping across the gap of the buildings, Barry was caught off guard by a boxing glove, launching out from the alley below. The red object caught Barry by his chin, stopping his momentum and sending him crashing to the street below.

 

 

Barry groaned, using his elbow to prop himself up. The buildings weren't too tall, thankfully. He could feel his speed healing begin to kick in, but it would still be a moment before he could stand.

 

 

"Flash!?"

 

 

Barry's eyes widened at the voice, his head swivelling to see Iris approaching him. A cameraman followed behind her, but kept some distance, likely to keep a good shot.

 

 

"Ms. West… stay back…" he called out, turning his head back to the villain, still atop the building. "He's dangerous… you need to leave."

 

 

Springs sounded off as Jesse leapt from the roof, landing gracefully on the road. He had a smile on his face as he twirled the silver fish. "Well well well," he giggled, pressing a button on the side of the item, "we seem to have an audience."

 

 

Like out of a sci-fi movie, a blue laser shot from the fish, turning it into a sword. The cameraman took an additional step back, but Iris stepped forward.

 

 

"Iris…" Barry mumbled, reaching his hand forward.

 

 

"Do you think people are scared of you?" she asked, taking another step forward, eyes peering over his shoulder. "You're nothing but a joke-"

 

 

"No, he's from Gotham…"

 

 

"-to me, him, and everyone in this city." she continued, ignoring his interruption. "You're washed. No one cares about the Trickster anymore. Take it from me, I'd rather be covering Captain Cold right now."

 

 

"What did you say?" he asked, the playfulness in his voice dropping. "Washed? Me!? You must be mistaken, Ms. West… but I'm the star of any show!"

 

 

"Your gimmick was perfected," she said, taking yet another step forward. "Do you know how many 'Tricksters' there are? How many are scarier… more threatening than you ever were?"

 

 

"Another word… and I'll end you!"

 

 

"I doubt you could."

 

 

"THAT'S I-"

 

 

Crack

 

 

Jesse tumbled to the ground, dropping the laser sword in the process. Stood in his place was Joe, rubbing his fist.

 

 

"Detective West…" Barry mumbled, the feeling in his leg returning.

 

 

"Good job, Joe," Iris said, waving the cameraman over.

 

 

"Iris, what the hell were you thinking!?" he shouted, causing Iris to frown.

 

 

"I saw your lights," she explained, pointing to the police cruiser. "I thought I'd make a distraction so you could take him down."

 

 

"That's not your job!" he fired back, pointing to Barry. "He moves faster than a bullet and was nearly killed. He could've killed you, Iris!"

 

 

"But he didn't."

 

 

"That isn't… damn it, Iris."

 

 

Barry, finally healed, raised himself to a stand, shaking the snow off his back. "Ms. West, Detective West is right," he said, looking down at Jesse. "This man is insane. Trying to aggravate him could've gotten you and your cameraman hurt… or worse."

 

 

"I…" Iris opened her mouth, ready to argue, but stopped. "I need to finish the report. Sorry for the inconvenience."

 

 

Red and blue lights flashed down the street as an armored car arrived. Officers stepped out, disarming Jesse and began loading him into the back.

 

 

Barry turned, ready to leave, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Looking back, Joe stood with a firm expression.

 

 

"Something wrong, Detective?" he asked, tilting his head.

 

 

"Come with me a minute?" he asked, nodding his head away from the officers.

 

 

Barry paused for a moment, contemplating on just speeding off. Then he looked at Joe, and saw worry in the man's eyes. With a nod, the two walked away from the crowd.

 

 

"What's on your mind, Detective?" Barry asked, after breaking away from the scene.

 

 

"What's on yours?" Joe responded, causing Barry to frown.

 

 

"I'm not sure what you mean by that, sir," Barry said, knowing his acting wasn't very up to par. "Just a tumble, that's all."

 

 

"On New Year's eve… you vanished," Joe said, crossing his arms. "After every case of super criminal you deal with, you've made it a priority to relay everything you could to us… but that night?

 

 

"What happened with Bivolo?"

 

 

Barry down at his hands.

 

 

"Don't ever stop… being a hero. You might have to fight a few knuckleheads like me… but it'll be worth it."

 

 

A teardrop fell from his eye down onto his hand, causing him to clench his fists. Looking back up to Joe, he shook his head solemnly. "I couldn't save him."

 

 

In an instant, Barry took off, leaving Joe alone in the street.

 

 

"I failed to be a hero."

 

 

-^-

 

 

"Hey, mom… Malcolm," Barry said, kneeling down to place a small bundle of pansies onto the snowy grave stones. "I… I haven't come by as much recently, sorry about that, I've been… busy."

 

 

Barry inhaled the crisp January air, feeling wetness buildup in his eyes. "I- uh… I'm not in a good place right now," he mumbled, droplets falling from his cheeks onto the snow. "I… the other night, I really just… didn't know what to do. In my head I played every scenario I could think of… I tried… tried to calm him down, but… but I…"

 

 

"Why did it hit me?" Barry asked, staring at the headstone, hoping it would give him an answer "Out of anyone that could've been struck by that bolt of lightning, why was it me?

 

 

"Why did it choose someone who always fails… someone who couldn't get home fast enough for his family… someone who wasn't able to do anything to save Francine… or Jorge… or-"

 

 

Barry stopped himself, looking down into the snow. He sat in silence, letting the light snow fall on his hair. Pulling himself back to both feet, he let out a held breath.

 

 

"I thought I'd find you here."

 

 

Barry looked up, seeing August walking through the snow towards him.

 

 

"A-August? W-were you-"

 

 

"I wasn't listening," August said, pointing to the headstones "It'd be disrespectful to intrude, to all three of you."

 

 

"R-right," Barry mumbled, looking at the graves before turning back to August. "Why are you here?"

 

 

"You're not good at hiding things, Barry," he said, Barry freezing at the words. "Yesterday when you were doing your analysis for Bivolo's case, you… you looked so broken."

 

 

"August, believe me-"

 

 

"Shut up, Barry," he said, silencing the blond. "I don't… know what's going on… or why you're crying at the cemetery alone. You've got people who care about you, Barry," he said, looking up and turning his head to Barry.

 

 

"I know that August," Barry said. "Believe me, I know that, I just… there's some things that you have to deal with alone."

 

 

"Yeah… yeah I get that," August said,m with a sad smile, placing his hand on Barry's shoulder, "but I want you to know… even if we may not understand what you're going through, we understand you. You can talk to us, any of us. You don't have to be Superman."

 

 

Patting Barry's shoulder, August walked away, leaving Barry alone. The blond turned his head back to the graves. "I know what you'd be saying right now, mom," Barry mumbled with a chuckle, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I… I think I made good friends too."

 

 

After a few more minutes, Barry turned, making his way out of the cemetery. As he took his first steps, someone collided with him.

 

 

"My bad, sir," Barry said, taking note of the long, black hooded-coat the man wore, completely concealing his face.

 

 

"S'fine… didn't see you."

 

 

Barry watched the man step past him, walking deeper into the cemetery.

 

 

"Weird…"

 

 

-^-

 

 

A large explosion sounded off in the d-block of Iron Heights. Sam Scudder stepped out of his cell, coughing up dust.

 

 

"What the hell?" he asked as he looked around the block.

 

 

Marco Mardon, exited his cell, holding a broken bar as if it were a weapon. "Was this you?" he asked Scudder, earning a head shake in response.

 

 

"Wasn't me neither," Roscoe Dillon, mumbled, fanning away dust. "Looks like it blew up along the entire wing…"

 

 

"If it wasn't either of you, then…"

 

 

"Explosive chewing gum!" shouted the manic voice of James Jesse, as he stepped out of his cell. "It usually just blows up in people's mouths, glad it worked this time though!"

 

 

Scudder looked to Mardon with a concerned expression, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

 

 

"Are you curious?" Jesse asked, tearing off his left pinky. "I hid the gum in here, my fake finger." The three stared in astonishment as he wiggled the prosthetic. "Don't let the guards know though," he said, concealing his mouth behind his hand, "it's my trick for gettin' out of here."

 

 

The sound of another string of explosions caused everyone in the wing to stumble.

 

 

"Oops, looks like the rest of the gum blew up…" Jesse mumbled, before shrugging. "Oh well, I'll be off. I know you youngsters got your own gimmicks, there should be a hole in the armory. Toodles."

 

 

Scudder, Mardon, and Dillon watched as the green haired man pranced out of the large blown open wall.

 

 

"What the fuck?"

 

 

NEXT TIME: Wally West, Missing!?

Done