Author's Note: Thanks for your review guys. They mean a lot. This is a shorter update, but it will answer where Dr. Wells was and give a little tease of what's to come. I haven't decided yet how long this fic will be. I could end it next chapter or keep going with it. In any case, thanks again for reading!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter Three- Ultraviolence, Part II

"Harrison Wells."

The darkness gave way to light. Harrison had been a light sleeper since the death of his wife, so he knew when the intruder entered. There was a handgun underneath his mattress—a handgun that he had no intentions of using tonight.

She stood in front of him, commanding and proud, with her arms crossed and legs spread apart. He respected her. They were both professionals, who would do whatever it took to keep their interests and assets safe; there was shared admiration on both sides.

"What do I owe this late night visit?" he reached for his glasses.

She smiled, "Don't be flippant with me Dr. you were expecting me."

Harrison gave her a knowing smile. He pulled back the covers revealing dress slacks and a black tee shirt. "I'd rather we talked in the kitchen. Are you hungry?" his tone was laced with sarcasm.

"Do you have steak?"

"I always have steak. I am a carnivore, Ms. Waller, do you prefer yours rare and bloody or well-done."

"The bloodier the better." She said evenly.

"Ah," he pointed at her, "Of course." There was no need making a show out of using his wheelchair. Amanda probably had his entire apartment bugged. He walked into the kitchen and she followed behind him, her heels clanking on the hardwood floors.

"Quaint house."

"I would prefer it if you didn't call my bachelor pad, quaint." Harrison passed her a shark-like smile.

Amanda returned it. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"For a Harrison Wells steak, seasoned to perfection, so good that it's worth dying for/"

Amanda walked around the counter, her hands gliding on the Formica surface. "Your particle accelerator explosion was not only a PR nightmare, but a pain in the ass for A.R.G.U.S. to clean up."

Harrison chuckled. "Do you like corn on the cob?"

"Do you have floss?"

"Of course I have floss, but I don't have an extra tooth brush. Just because I'm making you steak doesn't mean that you get to stay over."

Amanda tsked. "This is how you woo your victims into your death trap, Dr. Wells. A little false charm, a dimpled smile, and a few jokes. No wonder your victims never see it coming, Simon Stagg."

Dr. Wells waved his hand dismissively. "You would've ended him as well if he was sticking his nose where it shouldn't be. I put down a dog that no one will miss."

Amanda watched as he cleaned the steak with lemon and then started to season it. "Did your wife teach you how to cook?"

"No, my mother. I actually had one of those." He smiled. "Do you have a mother or were you created in a lab?"

"Neither, immaculate conception." Amanda said, breaking character for a second.

"Why are you here, the suspense is killing me."

"You have something that I want."

"Specifics, Ms. Waller. Usually when women drop that line they're not talking about science and prototypes."

Amanda remained unruffled. "The red streak. The boy in the red suit. Iris West calls him The Flash…and the name is catching fire."

Harrison half-smirked. As far as he was concerned the only PR nightmare was Iris West and her damn blog. If she wasn't so valuable to Barry's well being then he would've had her "handled" a long time ago. But because Barry loved Detective Joe's daughter, she was off limits. "She's just a girl with a blog."

"She's not just a girl with a blog." Amanda watched as he seasoned the bloody steak. "Iris West is a weapon. She knows who The Flash is."

Harrison chuckled. "Does she? Do you think The Flash is stupid enough to reveal his identity to a fangirl?"

Amanda's eyes transformed into slits, and her red lips curled into a smile. "This is what I know, Iris West has had contact with The Flash—he grants her interviews. He seems to care about this girl. If A.R.G.U.S. was lazy we could just take the girl, threaten to slit her throat, and wait for the red streak to save his girlfriend, but we aren't lazy.

"Why swim in the kiddie pool when we can go deep sea diving with sharks. I know that the Flash works with you. I know that you know his identity. And we both know that he isn't a threat. I want him. A.R.G.U.S. wants him."

Harrison smiled smugly. "You know what I want, Amanda?"

She didn't dignify him with a response.

"I want to bring my wife back from the dead—but if I can't have that, then I'll settle on the pleasure of telling you…that I cannot and will not help you."

Amanda, not ashamed to transform a space into her own, went over to Harrison's wine rack. "I love Chianti."

"With fava beans and liver?" Harrison said.

"Ah, Silence of the Lambs, that is too obvious of a movie for you, Dr. Wells."

He made an amused snort.

"I came to you because meta-humans are missing. We were informed that Tony Woodward was picked up by a red-headed woman a few days ago. We've been unable to track him since he fell off the grid."

"You were tracking Tony, why?"

"Because he's drawing attention to himself. Hence, PR nightmare."

"If he's missing—that solves your problem."

"Are you refusing the identity of The Flash?"

"Absolutely."

"My intentions are no less honorable than yours."

"I don't doubt that for a second, Ms. Waller."

"Let me ask you this…what plans do you have for the boy?"

Harrison simply said. "He is the future."

Harrison knew that he could no longer count on Cisco to be the keeper of his secrets. Now that Ronnie was 'missing' Cisco had grown closer to Caitlin. Barry's bleeding heart for all people, was a blessing and a curse, because he had changed the dynamic of S.T.A.R. Labs.

While Caitlin, Cisco, and Barry all had designated tasks and functions for keeping S.T.A.R. Labs afloat, Harrison did view them as more than colleagues. He was a man who trusted few, and protected fiercely. Caitlin, Barry, and Cisco were part of his inner circle, he cared about them, and before taking any action that could adversely affect them—he weight all options.

Harrison waited a few hours before leaving his apartment. He took the three-hour drive to Tess' crypt. His route was the same as it always was on Tuesdays. If this wasn't an emergency visit then he would've stopped at Tess' favorite Barbecue joint, and had ribs and sweet tea—her favorite meal.

The Shady Grove cemetery was beautiful during the day. It was hilly and situated on the banks of a lake. Willow trees and meadows ran through the spacious burial ground. Harrison walked through the darkness to his wife's crypt. He always brought flowers with him. There was no time for flowers tonight.

"I'm sorry that I didn't come with flowers, Tess." He spoke into the night air. "I'm sorry to say that this is a business meeting. I will return to be with you soon."

Just in case he was being watched, Harrison patiently waited at Tess' crypt, and then he ventured into the woods, silently humming to himself. Twisted branches loomed ahead and fog rolled off of the forest floor. A little ways in there was a condemned house. The house was still on cemetery property, so he didn't have to worry about kids getting into it—but it was also far enough away where it wasn't maintained.

The door creaked open. Cobwebs lined the walls; and stained furniture was turned on its side. He walked into the den and kicked the flower rug aside. Harrison crouched down on his haunches and pulled the hidden door up.

Shady Grove cemetery was the perfect place to hide his secret weapon…his arsonist. It was perfect because it wasn't off the beaten path. He was a man of routine: S.T.A.R. Labs, the bar occasionally, his apartment, and Shady Grove cemetery. If he ventured to a new location that would alert Amanda Waller to send in her men to investigate…and he wasn't in the mood to kill, not during the holidays.

Ronnie was sitting in the far corner on a crate. Every couple of seconds his left hand would explode into a brilliant display of fire. He was much calmer now than he had been when Harrison first found him—out of his mind, homeless, giving into the rage that drove him to kill.

"Ronnie," Harrison said, gently.

The young man remained in the darkness, back bent, and hand glowing.

"Have you been out of here?"

Ronnie didn't respond.

Harrison ventured closer to Ronnie. "I do need you to eat, Ronnie."

"I'm not hungry."

"You've been here for four days. You need sustenance."

"I can't go out there—not like this."

"You were worse before." Harrison had run all the tests he could. Ronnie's ability to transform his body into fire was outstanding. Eventually, Ronnie needed to be returned to S.T.A.R. labs so Caitlin could run more tests, but keeping them apart served the greater good. "I need you to do two things for me, Ronnie. I need you to eat, and I need you to come back to Central City."

Ronnie turned around slowly. "What if I hurt her?"

"You won't hurt her."

"I killed people. I killed innocent people…"

"That wasn't you."

"That was me! I can't stop the voices, I can't stop the screams…they won't…they won't…just leave me…"

"When I found you, you were wandering the streets, and muttering incoherently to yourself. Parts of your memory, reasoning, and humanity were damaged in the particle accelerator …but they weren't lost. Tomorrow night something big is happening…and I need you to be the Guardian of the city."

"Me?"

Harrison nodded. "It's your turn to be the hero, Ronnie Raymond."

Ten children were lined up on the stage like lambs for slaughter. The auditorium was dark, with the exception of a massive Christmas tree strung with blinking white lights. The children on the stage weren't the only hostages. From where she stood, Iris could see a small crowd of adults crying and pleading in the audience.

"Please, let them go!"

"They're innocent!"

"You're scaring the children."

He stood on stage; a tall dark shadow, wearing a perfectly suited black trench coat. He had a machine gun in his hands…but that wasn't the worst part…there was a bomb strapped to his chest. Iris could see the red numbers counting down to oblivion.

She had been prepared to save a life tonight; to wound, best-case scenario, and to kill—being the worst. But she hadn't been prepared for this.

Iris was desperate. She knew that she couldn't shoot the gunman, because he had a bomb and there could be someone else with him. The auditorium was too dark to see everyone's faces. She had no choice but to break down and call for backup—her dad and The Flash.

Before she could reach for her cell phone, a gun clicked behind her, Iris whirled around with her handgun raised. The masked man stood much taller than her.

"Are you lost?" he challenged.

"Let the kids go."

The masked man snickered. "Are you asking me or are you telling me?"

If he wanted to shoot her, then he would've done it already.

"Let the kids go." She kept her tone firm.

"Drop the gun."

Iris kept her gun raised high.

"If I wanted to blow your brains out…I would've done it already. Same for the kids."

Iris clenched her jaw.

"I'm looking in your eyes and I don't see a killer. You've never killed before."

"Let them go."

He threw his head back and chuckled. "We have no desire to hurt the kids. That is not our mission. We are in Central City for your boyfriend. Our hero is running a little late isn't he?"

This was a trap?

Before Iris could say another word she saw a flash of red and the gunman went sliding down the hall. His gun skidded into the wall behind her boots. She bent down to pick it up.

"What are you doing here?" The Flash reprimanded. She could hear the emotion rising in his voice. He was angry. He spoke to her like he knew her—as if their story extended beyond rooftop sessions. He was with her for only a second, giving her barely an opportunity to defend herself or warn him.

"This is a trap!"

The Flash moved incredibly fast. He was on the stage in the blink of an eye, and then the gunman with the bomb was gone. All she saw was the auditorium door shut. She drew in a deep breath and watched as the children ran down the stage all at once taking refuge in the arms of their parents. Then the wind picked up and Iris knew that the Flash was behind her.

"Iris,"

"You have to go, now." She whispered.

"You have to stop doing this," he pleaded…I can't…"

"You can't, what?" Iris turned around to face him.

He was close. Close enough for her to reach out and touch him. Although she couldn't place his voice, she could see his eyes clearly, he wasn't vibrating his face…those eyes, those green eyes.

"Ugh!" The Flash went down hard.

Iris' eyes widened and she dived down to help him. "What? What's wrong?"

"My head." He winced. "That sound. Someone is…ugh."

Iris' eyebrows furrowed. She couldn't hear any sound.

The Flash placed his hands over his ears and violently shook his head from left to right. Something…or someone was incapacitating him! Down the hall three men came down the stairs, they stopped, and eyed The Flash and Iris. And then in unison they all started to walk towards them, machine guns raised.

Iris started to react on autopilot. She grabbed the Flash by the shoulders. He was still writhing on the floor. She dragged him as far as she could. She needed to get him somewhere where she could barricade herself, buy him some more time…all of a sudden he went still.

"No, no, stay with me."

She heard the gunmen snicker. Iris continued to drag him back, it was a struggle because he weighed more than she did…but if those guys got him…then…

Iris didn't have to worry for long because there was a bright explosion of fire and the three guys broke out into a nightmarish symphony of screams.

She didn't see where the fire came from. When Iris looked back at the Flash his face was vibrating again. A gust of wind ripped her from his arms. He was gone. Iris looked down at her hands.

Barry.

"I'll give you a head start."

Caitlin didn't hesitate. She took off running. He gave her a second. She could hear his footsteps pounding on the pavement behind her. And then she heard nothing. Caitlin turned around and her mouth dropped when she realized that her pursuer was on fire. Standing behind him was a shadowed figure…a figure, who stepped into the light before shooting up into the sky.

"Ronnie."