Author's Note: I know! I know, I'm a horrible, awful writer for making you all wait for so long after that cliffhanger. I have abused my author privileges. I apologize to everyone who was yelling at me in the comments to update... I know how it feels. If it makes you feel any better, your yelling inspired me to stay up way too late to finish and post. But the truth is, I am an extreme procrastinator, and I had a bad case of writer's block. Those two things do not mix well.

Anyway. Here is the long-awaited Chapter 8! I sincerely promise that future updates will be more regular and frequent. Probably.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

ROSEY cheeks: Aw! I'm glad you enjoyed it. Sorry for that, uh, cliffhanger...

Wildjay1585: Oh, he'll be regretting something, all right. Maybe not right now, but he will. :)

Gill: THANK YOU SO MUCH FRIEND I APPRECIATE YOUR ENTHUSIASM

Death by Verbicide: I do think I'm cute. And I like being mean. You have plenty of cliffhangers in your story, if I must remind you... ;)

the darkest of them all: Absolutely! I'm completely fine with that. I look forward to reading your story! And there proooobably won't be any big romances soon, if that makes you feel better.

Holly & Guest: I. Am. So. Sorry. ;-; I am so mean to you guys. But I updated! Finally!

Hope you all enjoy!

The trio- Joe, Cisco, and Caitlin- were left standing alone in the cortex, the burst of wind created by the speedster scattering papers and supplies through the room. They stared in shock at the empty wheelchair.

"He-he took Dr. Wells," Caitlin stammered. Cisco slowly peeled his eyes away from the chair to Caitlin. He shook his head in disbelief. "I've never- that shouldn't have been possible. He shouldn't have been-"

"Well, he did," Joe snapped, "And we need to find Wells." He pulled a black cell phone out of the pocket of his uniform and quickly dialed a number. The response was immediate.

Caitlin took a long breath and walked as quickly as she could without tripping over to her monitor, her heels clicking on the floor, sitting down and blinking the monitor on.

No more S.T.A.R. data surveillance today.

She tried to still the shaking in her hands as she searched for sightings and reports. She saw Cisco frantically checking some sort of satellite data to her right. Joe had already begun jogging to the elevator, phone to his ear.

The usual peace and silence the lab normally provided her with had disappeared. Dr. Wells was missing, in the hands of an extremely powerful, homicidal metahuman who was doing God knows what to him. There had been a rogue in their very cortex.

It was one thing to read about dangerous metahuman criminals. It was another thing altogether to have them appear less than ten feet away.

She tightened her grip on her computer mouse, bringing her back to the present. She couldn't think about the implications of that now. Right now, she had to find Dr. Wells before he was hurt, or worse.

Joe didn't fully allow himself to exhale until the elevator doors closed.

He released a long, shuddering breath, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to his temple. This was something he couldn't have imagined in his worst nightmares.

Barry Allen was eleven the last time Joe had seen him. Small, skinny, with big green eyes and good intentions. He had even been Iris's childhood friend for several years.

The flickering, gaunt-faced monster he had seen was not, could not, be Barry.

When Nora was murdered, presumably by Henry, Barry was sent to a foster home. Joe had considered taking him in, but as much as he liked the kid, he didn't want a traumatized, possibly delusional child as a constant influence on Iris. Not to mention the awkward situation of bringing a new foster kid into the house.

That decision had haunted him, especially after Henry's suicide and the following incident at the foster home. Barry was labeled as psychologically unstable and kept in an isolated facility.

Joe had thought then, despite the guilt he felt, that he had made the right decision. Barry would have been a terrible influence, and it was best that he had been kept away from Iris. He still felt ashamed for never making any contact with Barry, but he was certain that it would have only added to his guilt.

What a mistake that had been.

Barry- who had unimaginable abilities- now seemed to have an extreme grudge against him. Who knows what he had been told in the foster home- Joe hadn't even considered that misinformation.

But it was too late now. Too late to make amends, except as a last-ditch resort. Barry Allen was a psychotic speedster who couldn't be reasoned with.

As the elevator doors dinged and opened to the exit, Joe stopped.

What the hell was he going to tell Iris?

He quickly walked out of the elevator before the metal doors closed again. Nothing. Iris couldn't know.

Eobard anxiously watched the world fly by in streaks of light and color, forcing himself to stay perfectly still and to not bolt in the opposite direction. The speedster was holding him by his neck, nearly cutting off his air supply, and he could barely keep track of which direction he was going.

He didn't dare risk trying to access his speed. If it failed- he hadn't properly prepared with his tachyon, his suit was in the lab- he would have no chance, his secret would be out, and Barry Allen would most certainly kill him.

Barry Allen. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been. To think that he could shift the timeline, undo hundreds of years, without consequences; it was possibly one of the most blind things he could have done.

Who knew what would occur in this warped timeline? He had assumed that the Scarlet Speedster was incorruptible. Good. Pure. Heroic. A single death wouldn't change that.

How wrong he had been.

His eyes watered in the battering wind. This was certainly much faster than he had been expecting. This was speed that came with years of preparation and experience. It couldn't be used trivially, by a newborn speedster.

How had this Barry Allen managed to reach such high speeds without any mentor, any Velocity 9, any tachyon enhancement? Did he simply have a more powerful connection to the Speedforce? But why would the Speedforce choose a such an unstable human to become so powerful?

Good questions, but questions that couldn't be answered while he was being towed by his neck through Central City at several times the speed of sound.

Almost immediately after they left the lab, they arrived at what looked to be an abandoned storefront, the speedster phasing through a concrete wall easily.

Eobard groaned as he was dropped onto the slick tile floor, his legs still cramped from being confined to the wheelchair for so long. The numbness made it difficult to keep them still, but he'd had years of practice at doing so.

He propped himself up on his elbow, looking around the building. It looked almost like a corner convenience store; there was no way to be certain in the suffocating blackness that cloaked the walls. A streetlight flickered several hundred yards away from the broken window, but it was too faint to make anything out.

Then the speedster- who had been absent for several seconds after depositing him on the ground- zipped back into the building. The yellow lightning that crackled around him lit up the store with a blinding intensity. Eobard squinted into the brightness.

"Harrison Wells." The voice was echoed strangely, each reverberation varying in pitch.

Eobard opened his mouth to speak- not that he had a clue what he could say- but before he could, the speedster had vanished and appeared in a separate corner. He flashed back to his original position, and then Eobard blinked and the speedster was mere inches away.

The scent of burnt hair and fabric choked him, and he coughed, his eyes watering nearly to the point of tears. The speedster blinked back to the center of the building. It was unnerving how quickly he moved from each spot.

"What do you-" He coughed again, trying to clear the smoke from his lungs. "What do you want from me?"

"Harrison Wells." The lightning hissed and sparked.

"Your particle accelerator did this."

Eobard closed his eyes, desperately trying to think of a plan. None of his options were good. He could ask what was wrong- but that seemed too blunt, too likely to elicit an angry response. He could lead the speedster back to STAR- no good. He'd just be putting Cisco and Caitlin, his most valuable assets, in extreme danger. He could alert authorities- but how? He had no cell phone on him, no Gideon, no suit or comms.

Or, he could play along until he thought of a plan D.

"Well- yes- the accelerator may have altered your cells- as well as some others around the city."

"I know about the metahumans. You created them too."

Eobard wondered briefly exactly how much he knew about the metahumans. Had he met one? Recruited any?

He looked the man over. No, this speedster worked alone.

He zoomed closer again. "But you did something different to me. Something wrong."

Oh, he had. But not just by creating the particle accelerator.

Eobard slowly shook his head. "I- I'm sorry. What the particle accelerator explosion did to many people is unforgivable-"

"You need to fix me." The speedster's chest rose and fell quickly, and he began to pace. Eobard swallowed, afraid of what an unhinged speedster would be capable of, but unsure how to deescalate the situation.

"The lighting- I can't- I can't eat enough- I can't control it-it doesn't-" His words became too rapid for Eobard to understand, even with his limited Speed Force capabilities.

He watched anxiously as the speedster paced back and forth, speaking in an incomprehensible rush. The vibrations made him look almost transparent- as if he were seeing a ghost.

The description wasn't too far off.

Eobard went through his options again, hunting the storefront for clues or ideas. It was much more well lit, with the speedster lighting up the room like a flickering candle. He recognized the sign hanging outside of a shattered glass window to be the one labeling the site where the cops were massacred mere weeks before.

There was no possible way.

Why would the deranged speedster take his possible next victim to the very site where he had first been seen? There had to be a constant watch on the place, even if the detectives and analysts had exited the crime scene.

Whatever the case, there would be help on the way. The question was if it would get there in time.

The speedster stopped mid-speech and turned to him. He looked pale but still flickering and wired.

Of course. What had the man said? About not being able to eat enough?

Eobard had to suppress a sigh of relief. A normal speedster would consume upwards of ten thousand calories a day- but one like this? Constantly vibrating and running at extreme velocities? He would need to constantly consume high-calorie products. Speedster food.

Whatever the reason for his unstable connection to his speed, it was a blessing for him. The speedster wouldn't last much longer. Hopefully, he would go out before the authorities arrived.

He walked closer to Eobard- the first time he had seen him move at a normal pace. "What is wrong with me?"

The anger and aggression in his voice was unmistakable. Eobard pushed himself further backwards in fear, his back hitting a glass door behind him.

The speedster grabbed him anyway, shoving him down the aisle by his shoulder. "How are you going to fix me?"

Eobard stammered, desperately trying to produce a response. "I don't- I don't know- if I had more research, maybe I could-"

"More research? You want to do tests on me?" The speedster seethed. He grabbed the man by his throat and drew back his arm to attack again, only to notice Eobard's horrified expression and realise that his hands were vibrating. He slowly lowered his arm, slowing the vibrations.

The lightning crackling around him died down as well, dimming the amount of light in the store. When the speedster spoke, it was in a much slower, calmer voice.

"You'll need a lab to work at?"

Eobard nodded quickly, startled by how quickly the speedster's mood had shifted.

He could see the speedster thinking, weighing the options; much like he had been doing just minutes before.

Just as he seemed to reach a decision, there was a clank! of metal striking metal, and suddenly there was an enormous metal anklet attached to the man's ankle, bolted into the ground a foot away. Eobard flinched and fell backwards in surprise. The speedster immediately tried to flash out of it, but to no avail. The length of cord was stretched tightly.

Eobard had been jolted by the sudden noise; now he heard people shouting in the perimeter around the store, on almost every side. Reinforcements.

It was about time they came. Every sense alert, he watched the helpless speedster struggle with the cuff. Each time, without fail, the man was snapped back to his original position.

Eyes practically red with fury, he turned his gaze to Eobard, every limb vibrating and sparking again.

With an enraged howl, he thrust out a nearly invisible hand, curled into a claw, at the man lying just inches away.

Eobard didn't have time to think, or weigh his options, or calculate the consequences of his actions. He only had time to move.

In a short burst of red electricity, he had moved several feet away from the chained speedster.

The officers just beginning to stream into the building hadn't noticed his movements. The security cameras, if there indeed were any, wouldn't have been fast enough to capture him. He was sure of that.

But the unhinged green eyes staring in horror had seen. This timeline's Barry Allen had seen him use his powers, and there was nothing he could do to undo that.

His secret was out.

Wow... I really love cliffhangers, huh? Sorry. But, I mean, at least I didn't end it five lines sooner (which I considered doing but then I felt bad). You're all welcome for that. :)

Please leave a review if you enjoyed!