#wet basement Barrie

[crackbusters]

Reasons Why Your Home's Basement is Always Wet

No matter how you use the basement of your house, you have to make sure that it is in good condition. However, people often forget about their home's basement and eventually turn it into a not-so-glorious part of the house. However, the biggest issue that makes every home's basement unusable is unwanted wetness. This wetness can be reversed with the help of a basement waterproofing specialist. Here are the reasons why your home's basement always remains wet.

Water Pipe Leak:

Water pipe leaks are more like internal sources of moisture in your home. Mostly, the leaked water drips down the walls and finally reaches the basement. As a result, the basement gets wetter with time. Sometimes, repairing leaking pipes is not enough to reverse the wetness. You may need expert assistance in such cases then. Therefore, you need waterproofing services.

Rain and Groundwater:

Another reason for a constant wet basement is rain and groundwater. Excess rain increases the groundwater level. As a result, water seeps from the ground to the basement and foundation, resulting in a wet basement Barrie. The condition could get worse during monsoon and rainy season.

If you constantly experience the same wet basement problem during the rainy season, you need to take action. Before the season arrives, you need to go for waterproofing services. It can prepare the basement for the upcoming rainy season. Moreover, it can add extra protection to the basement, eliminating the wet basement issues.

Humidity Levels:

The basement never receives any natural light. As a result, the air within always remains moist. And issues tend to rise when the humidity level increases in the atmosphere. As soon as the humidity level rises, the basement walls start absorbing the moisture and humidity from the air. It eventually turns your home's basement into a wet basement.

However, you may need a specialist to address the problem and deliver the right solutions. These specialists can make sure that the basement is not the gloomy and wet room in your house anymore. So, connect with these experts now.

About Crack Busters Water Proofing Co.:

Crack Busters Water Proofing Co. is an excellent service available. The company offers excellent services, including basement and foundation repair Orillia. The experts from this company can even help you if you are suffering from wet basement problems. So, make sure to connect with Crack Busters Water Proofing Co. now.

Check all the necessary details at https://crackbusters.ca/

Original Source: https://bit.ly/3LeFgBM

[cardcaptorsakura96]

Taxes, Taxes, Taxes-Chapter 17

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Kara Danvers, Clark Kent, Samantha Arias, Lena Luthor, Lillian Luthor, Ruby Arias, Oliver Queen, John Stewart, Diana Prince, Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen, J'onn J'onnz, Alfred Pennyworth, Lois Lane, Cat Grant, Lucy Lane, Damian Wayne, Felicity Smoak, Streaky the Supercat

Summary: What if superheroes had to pay a property damage tax every time they had a fight in the city?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16

It was pouring down rain and hail as Lena drove like a happy clam to her mother’s house. She has been beaming ever since Kara said yes to dating her. She hadn’t been this happy in a long time. So happy that she didn’t get upset today at all on the usual things that would bother her. Someone took her parking spot, the research lab had a fire that put them behind on a project for two weeks, and the basement flooded, but nothing brought her down. She just smiled and took care of everything gleefully. It made her employees look at her unnerved. Not that she was a bad boss, but Lena tended to be no-nonsense but fair. The incidents in the basement and research lab should have led to several employees being fired since they were at fault, however, Lena surprised them by saying everyone makes mistakes and for them to try harder next time. Now, she was going to her mother’s house for dinner with Sam, Ruby, and Lillian. She said that she had something important that she wanted to discuss with them. Normally, that would ring alarm bells, but all Lena could see was rainbows and kittens. Ten minutes later, she pulled up to her mother’s mansion, and quickly made a break for the front door. After her third knock, Lillian opened the door and ushered Lena in. 

Lillian looked at Lena surprised and said, “You are smiling pretty hard for someone who is drenching wet.”

Lena quickly took off her jacket with a smile still plastered on her face and said, “It wasn’t that bad outside.”

Lillian raised an eyebrow and said, “Are you okay?”

Lena cocked her head smiling and said, “Yes, why do you ask?”

“My dear, it is storming outside and you are drenching wet from head to toe, but you are acting like you just came out a fairy tale movie.”

Lena chuckled and said, “Don’t be so dramatic. I have just had a good day that’s all.”

Lillian narrowed her eyes and said, “All right. If you say so. I still have some of your old clothes in your old room if you want to change and there should be a blow dryer in there as well. Sam is already in her room changing into something else. When you are done, you can meet us downstairs for dinner. It will be ready in 15 minutes.”

“Okay,” said Lena cheerfully as she skipped up the stairs to the second floor. 

Lillian eyed her strangely as Lena skipped away. She shook her head and said, “Hopefully this mood of hers keeps going after the news I have today.” She shook her had and went towards the kitchen. 

Lena skipped down the hallway and entered her old room. She smirks as she looked around. Her mom didn’t change a thing. In high school, she went through a phase that she only liked things in purple. Her bed, walls, and carpet were in various shades of purple. The only things that weren’t was her desk, dresser, and doors that led to her walk in closet and bathroom. She quickly went into her closet and changed into some old sweats and MIT sweatshirt that she had. She then quickly went to the bathroom to dry her hair. Once she was done, she felt refreshed and bounced out the room all the way downstairs and into the dining room. She salivated at what she saw set up on the dinning room table: roasted chicken, ham, mashed potatoes, broccoli, kale, cherry pie, and an Oreo cheesecake. It was all Sam and her favorites. Sam and Lillian were already sitting down and putting food on their plate. Lillian sat at the head of the table, while Sam sat to her left.  Lena skipped over to the chair to the right of Lillian, sat down, and cheerfully started filling her plate. 

Once Lena finished plating her food, she looked around quizzically and noticed that she hadn’t seen Ruby around since she got here. She turned to Sam and asked, “Where’s Ruby?”

Sam chuckled and said, “Ruby’s friends invited her last minute to do a Disney movie night.”

Lillian sniffed while eating and said, “I am glad that she is socializing, but I didn’t think the day would come when she would miss out on hanging with her grandmother so soon. She used to get excited when Sam would tell her they were coming over.”

Lena smiled and grabbed her mother’s hand and said, “It is not like she ditched us forever. Plus, she still calls you every day to tell you what happened. In fact, I am sure tomorrow she will give you a full report of what happened at movie night.”

Sam chuckled and said, “Lena is right. You know in the next week she will want to have a sleepover here with you.”

Lillian pouted and said, “I know, but it is still not the same.” Lillian then smirked, turned to Lena, and said, “Unless a certain someone can give me grandchildren soon.”

Lena near spit her drink out and glared at her mother. 

“I am no where near the point of having children right now. My lifestyle is chaotic enough as it is.”

Lillian smirked while continued eating her food and said, “It would just be nice is all.”

Lena rubbed her head and said, “You are barking up the wrong tree. Sam has a better chance of having a baby before me.”

Sam smirked and said, “Lillian don’t let her fool you. With a certain special someone in her life, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has babies within a year.”

Lillian looked over at Lena shocked and asked, “I didn’t know you were dating someone dear. How long has this been going on?”

Lena glared at Sam and said, “you too Brutus.”

Sam feigned shocked and said, “I don’t know why you are mad. With the way you have been smiling all day, I know that special project with a certain blonde Kryptonian must have went really well.”

Lena chuckled nervously and said, “That doesn’t mean anything.”

It wasn’t that Lena didn’t want to tell Sam about her date. She actually wanted to tell her at work but because of the incidents that happened, it caused them to have to do a lot of paperwork so they didn’t have any time to socialize. She was hoping to tell her after leaving tonight instead of being bombarded at Lillian’s house. She knew that her mom didn’t share the same hatred for Supergirl that Lex does, but a part of her was nervous she would disapprove of their dating still. 

Sam raised an eyebrow and said, “Oh but it does when you didn’t freak out about the lab fire and basement flooding. You kept smiling and told everyone to do better next time. There was a bet going on with the employees wondering if you finally met someone or got fucked last night.”

Lena rolled her eyes, sighed, and said, “Don’t tell me you went along with these bets.”

Sam smirked and said, “Considering you can walk, I am leaning towards that you made out with the Super at least .”

Lena stared at her mortified.

Read the rest on AO3

[adenhoru]

What Are the Benefits of Basement Waterproofing in Barrie?

Basement waterproofing is a crucial investment for homeowners in Barrie, where weather conditions and soil characteristics can lead to significant water-related issues. Proper waterproofing provides multiple benefits, from protecting your home’s structural integrity to enhancing indoor air quality and property value. Here’s a detailed exploration of the benefits of basement waterproofing in Barrie.

1. Protection Against Water Damage

Barrie’s climate, characterized by heavy snowfall in the winter and frequent rain during other seasons, increases the risk of water infiltration into basements. Waterproofing provides a critical defense against water damage by preventing leaks and floods. By keeping water out, homeowners can avoid issues like wet or moldy walls, damaged flooring, and ruined belongings, ultimately safeguarding the structural integrity of the home.

2. Prevention of Mold and Mildew Growth

One of the most significant health benefits of basement waterproofing is the prevention of mold and mildew growth. Moisture in basements creates an ideal environment for mold, which can lead to serious health problems such as allergies, asthma, and respiratory infections. Waterproofing eliminates excess moisture, reducing the risk of mold proliferation and ensuring a healthier living environment for residents.

3. Increased Property Value

A dry, well-maintained basement can significantly boost the value of your property. Plumbing services Milton Prospective buyers in Barrie are often concerned about potential water damage and mold issues. By investing in basement waterproofing, you enhance your home’s appeal and marketability, potentially leading to a higher resale value. Waterproofing demonstrates to buyers that the property is well-cared for and free from water-related issues.

4. Enhanced Living Space

Waterproofing your basement opens up the potential to utilize the space as a functional living area. Many homeowners in Barrie convert their basements into additional bedrooms, family rooms, home offices, or entertainment spaces. With a dry and comfortable environment, the basement becomes a valuable and usable extension of the home, providing more room for activities and storage.

5. Improved Energy Efficiency

Basement waterproofing can contribute to better energy efficiency in your home. Water and moisture can make basement walls and floors feel colder, leading to increased heating costs as your HVAC system works harder to maintain a comfortable temperature. By keeping your basement dry, waterproofing helps to stabilize indoor temperatures, reducing the demand on your heating and cooling systems and leading to lower energy bills.

6. Protection of Structural Integrity

Persistent water infiltration can weaken the foundation and structural elements of your home. Water can erode soil and cause it to shift, leading to cracks and other forms of structural damage. Waterproofing your basement helps to preserve the foundation by preventing water from seeping into the soil around it. This ensures the long-term stability and safety of your home, protecting it from costly structural repairs.

7. Cost Savings on Repairs

By preventing water damage before it occurs, basement waterproofing can save homeowners significant money on future repairs. Addressing issues such as foundation cracks, mold remediation, and damaged flooring can be expensive. Investing in waterproofing is a proactive measure that helps avoid these costs, providing financial peace of mind in the long term.

8. Reduced Risk of Flooding

Barrie’s unpredictable weather can lead to sudden and heavy rainfall, increasing the risk of basement flooding. Waterproofing systems, such as sump pumps and exterior drainage, are designed to manage excess water and prevent flooding. By keeping your basement dry, you avoid the hassle and expense of dealing with flood damage, including the loss of valuable items and the potential need for major cleanup and repairs.

9. Compliance with Insurance Requirements

Some insurance companies require homeowners to take preventive measures against water damage to qualify for coverage or to receive better rates. Basement waterproofing can help you meet these requirements, ensuring that you are adequately protected against water-related losses. It can also potentially lower your insurance premiums by reducing the risk of claims related to water damage.

Conclusion

Basement waterproofing in Barrie offers numerous benefits, from safeguarding your home against water damage and improving air quality to enhancing property value and creating additional living space. By investing in this crucial home improvement, homeowners can enjoy a safer, healthier, and more valuable living environment. Waterproofing provides peace of mind, knowing that your home is protected from the elements and potential water-related issues that could compromise its integrity and your well-being.

[plumbing-barrie-make-it-drain]

Foundation Repair Companies Ontario

Consider hiring the plumbing emergency services of Make It Drain if you have a leaky, wet basement. We offer 24/7/365 emergency plumbing services in Barrie.

Visit: https://www.plumberinbarrie.com/basement-waterproofing/

Email :  info@plumberinbarrie.com

Contact:  705-305-0999

[toziers]

is this your god?

[tranquilitybasehotelcasino]

wetness index of the first half of season 2 of the x files

little green men - wetness index of 7 (large portion of episode takes place during and in a thunderstorm, everyone is kind of weirdly sweaty)

the host - wetness index of 9 (over half the episode literally takes place inside various showers, sewers, and storm drains)

blood - wetness index of 3 (everyone is constantly extremely sweaty)

sleepless - wetness index of 2 (general aura of mist and fog)

duane barry - wetness index of 3 (everyone is contantly extremely sweaty)

ascension - wetness index of 2 (general aura of mist and fog)

3 - wetness index of 4 (one murder takes place in a hot tub, lots of liquids such as blood and gasoline and what have you)

one breath - wetness index of 1 (scully on the boat in the lake)

firewalker - wetness index of 4 (several foggy forest scenes, involves a large drippy cave, everyone is once again really sweaty)

red museum - wetness index of 5 (general perpetual drizzle, several foggy forest scenes, noticeable mud puddles in parking lots and fields)

excelsius dei - wetness index of 8 (general aura of mist, basement inexplicably full of dripping pipery, special mention to the scene where mulder and the orderly get locked in the bathroom as it slowly fills up with water from the burst main)

aubrey - wetness index of 2 (general perpetual drizzle and mist)

irresistible - wetness index of 3 (general perpetual drizzle and mist, one of the murders takes place in a bathtub)

die hand die verletzt - wetness index of 6 (general perpetual drizzle and mist, several foggy forest and graveyard scenes, special mention to the scene where mulder and scully get waterboarded in the showers of a school locker room in preparation for occult sacrifice)

[patriciasage]

because you are my heart

Author: Patricia_Sage

Fandom: The Adventure Zone - Balance

Summary:

Barry goes down to the lab every morning. One rainy day, about two and a half weeks from the initial implantation, he comes up the stairs with an excited expression on his round face. “I’ve got some news –”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish because Lup is already sprinting past him. They hear the sound of shattering glass. “It has a latch...” Barry mumbles, his head in his hands. They would have to go to the black markets to find another tube, now.

The footsteps on the stairs sound much more solid coming up than they had been running down. The door is kicked open and there’s Lup in her corporeal form.

posted in full under the break but you can find me on A03!!

Lup is incredibly impatient to get her body back. She rambles to Barry over their post-Hunger-battle celebratory dinner about how they could alter Taako’s DNA. But her boyfriend interrupts her, red-faced and mumbling something Taako can’t hear. He hears his sister’s reply, though.

“Babe, that is so creepy. I love you so much.”

Taako kicks her boot from across the table. “What?”

Her white-toothed grin glows from within the black, wispy shape of her face. “Barry saved a lock of my hair like an absolute weirdo.” Barry flushes with embarrassment as everyone turns to listen. “But you know what that means – mama’s gettin’ her body back!”

Magnus cheers from beside Taako, raising his glass of mead in a single-person toast. “How long will it take to grow?” the wizard asks.

Barry takes off his glasses and cleans them, something he does about ten times a day. “I’d say about a couple weeks.”

“Fuck yes!” the twins say in unison.

Magnus, being the rustically hospitable man that he is, allows them to use his basement as a science lab. He’s the only one besides Merle who has a house. Lucretia still lives on the moon; Davenport is traveling; and Taako has a small apartment in New Phandalin. Lup and Barry have a place in the Astral Plane, but they had a feeling Kravitz would lose his mind if they start growing a body in his neighbourhood. It’s already stressful enough for him to look the other way when they do necromancy shit here.

Lup and Barry need to be there to monitor the experiment but there’s no real reason for everyone else to stay. However, Magnus’s table is full of friends while Lup’s body grows in his basement. The kids are with Hecuba, so Merle invites himself over. Taako can’t bring himself to leave. Days turn into weeks; a few sleepovers turn into a strange vacation.

Kravitz visits often, gently convincing Taako to go out for a walk or an activity with him, but never pressuring him to go home to his apartment. He kisses the wizard goodnight on Magnus’s porch. “Keep me up to date on that thing I don’t know about,” he says, then disappears into the darkness with moonlight shining off of his skull.

“Bet your boyfriend has a bone to pick with me,” Lup winks when her brother enters the kitchen.

“Nah,” Taako replies, “he’s chill.” He grabs Magnus’s apron off of the hook next to the door. It’s warm yellow with strawberries embroidered on it. “I’m thinking dumplings tonight, what about you?”

Cooking together was what they always did. When things got tough, they lost themselves in a recipe and the warmth of each other’s company and forgot about the world. “Sure,” Lup replies. But things are different now. She can’t taste any of the food. Her hands are cold when he passes her a dish. Instead of filling the room with a comfortable fire, her physical presence is dark and damp. And Taako has trouble ignoring that, although he wouldn’t trade this time for anything.

Lup teases him about the garlic. They used to double the amount in any recipe that called for it. In retrospect, Taako thinks maybe a hidden part of his mind created thirty garlic clove chicken because of this. But he uses barely any now. The smell of it brings him back to the sound of choking, the sight of dropping bodies, and panic flooding his veins.

He tells her this. She knew about Glamour Springs, of course, but she didn’t know about the recipe. “Shit, Taako, I’m sorry, babe.” She hugs him and he appreciates the gesture, but she’s cold and weird and not quite solid. He pulls away.

“Taako’s good, don’t you worry, sis.”

They cook, the boys eat, and days pass sluggishly. It’s kind of nice being together like this, and everyone knows that Magnus loves a house with a crowded table. Taako teaches him how to make churros. Merle teaches Barry how to garden. And Lup watches, wringing her shadowy hands together and wishing she could fully join them. Sometimes Taako hears a noise from the basement, but it’s only Lup – pressing her hands to the tube and shouting at her body to “hurry the fuck up!”

Barry goes down to the lab every morning. One rainy day, about two and a half weeks from the initial implantation, he comes up the stairs with an excited expression on his round face. “I’ve got some news –”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish because Lup is already sprinting past him. They hear the sound of shattering glass. “It has a latch...” Barry mumbles, his head in his hands. They would have to go to the black markets to find another tube, now.

Taako watches Barry closely, looking for any sign of stress. Besides the general air of exasperation he always has, he seems relatively calm. Taako tries to take some deep breaths in the silence. This feels exactly like when he was standing on the deck of the Starblaster, watching Lup and Barry rise up from their bodies in their lich forms for the first time. Anxiety squeezes his heart with an icy hand.

The footsteps on the stairs sound much more solid coming up than they had been running down. The door is kicked open and there’s Lup in her corporeal form. She’s dressed in the clothing Taako had bought for her – a black crop top with a pair of skeleton hands over the breasts and a pair of leggings covered in rhinestones. She’s smiling wider than she has in weeks. Taako thinks about Lup in her lich form, how he could recognize his sister in the shape of her ears and the way that she moved. But looking at her now – the softness of her shoulder-length hair; her dark, freckled cheeks; the angle of her nose – he’s overwhelmed.

Taako isn’t even aware that he’s crying until he realizes he can’t see. Lup crashes into him like a tidal wave on the beach planet. She holds him close and he presses his face into her shoulder. She smells a bit like Barry’s lab, but also achingly familiar and so very real. She no longer feels cold and misty; she’s warm and strong and alive. There’s something about it that slots everything into place for Taako and suddenly he’s consolidating everything in a way he hasn’t been able to before. He grips the back of her shirt tightly and cries for the ten years she was trapped and alone, for the years he lived wandering and scared, searching for something that felt like home.

When he pulls back, Lup is sniffling too. Taako wipes her tears away and then just holds her face in his hands, squishing her a little like he used to when they were young and she needed cheering up. They’re exactly the same height now that she’s not floating a foot off the ground anymore. She laughs. Her eyes are shining.

“I missed you, Lulu,” Taako says.

“I never left you.”

“I know.”

The others can’t seem to hold back anymore, and they join the twins, invading the bubble of space they had given them. Taako feels Merle hug him at the hip and he feels Magnus’s big hand on his back. Barry presses his face into Lup’s hair. He’s also crying. Lup gives him a big, wet kiss. “Gross,” Taako protests half-heartedly.

Of course, Magnus is crying too. Even Merle wipes his eyes when he thinks no one is looking. It’s squishy and messy and way more emotional than Taako would usually be comfortable with. But he just looks into his sister’s eyes (a honey brown, no longer glowing red) and lets himself feel safe and warm.

They clean up a bit and sit down in the living room with a fresh pot of coffee. Merle makes a group call on his Stone of Farspeech to the entire I.P.R.E. crew. His voice echoes from the foyer where everyone else hung up their coats. Taako takes his Stone out of his pocket and calls Kravitz.

Lucretia takes a canon down from the moon base immediately, and everyone is delighted and surprised to see Davenport with her as well. He had just returned from a trip and had been visiting Lucretia when they got the call.

Kravitz arrives soon after. He’s initially very concerned at the sight of everyone’s tear-stained faces, but then he notices Lup’s corporeal form and his face softens into happiness. “You look wonderful,” he tells her.

She shoots finger guns at him. "You're just saying that 'cause I'm his twin." He laughs easily, as he always does.

Taako leaves to make a new pot of coffee and his boyfriend follows him into the kitchen, enveloping him in a cold but comforting hug. Taako presses his face into Kravitz’s neck and tentatively acknowledges that this is the happiest he’s ever been.

A rainy Thursday morning turns into a celebration full of tears, hugs, and reminiscing. Taako and Lup cook supper together and she takes charge this time, very excited to be able to eat again. They make arroz con pollo, their aunt’s recipe, and this time the smell of garlic and chicken summons fond childhood memories alone.

They’re back – Taako and Lup, Lup and Taako.

He’s whole again.

[niiwa-angel]

Coming Home

//This is a prequel to Late At Night, a Halbarry story I wrote and posted on both tumblr and ao3, you can find me on Tumblr under niiwa-angel or on a03 as Niiwasong for any requests. This story will contain mentions of violence, medical procedures, and mentions of underage nudity though nothing sexual, and pedos can gtfo. As well, I am not a doctor so im relly just making up procedures from what makes sense to my uneducated mind and what I saw on Grey's Anatomy. If i’m wrong just take it with a grain of salt. And don’t be scared to reblog and like. :p //

Hal collapsed on the sofa next to his boyfriend with a tired sigh, he stretched one arm around Barry’s shoulders and nestled the bowl of popcorn between them. Barry laughed and continued to scroll through netflix without sparing a glance at his partner.

“Look, this is the first movie night we’ve had in three very long months. I am not half assing our entertainment with some crappy half cooked comedy!” Barry exclaimed, drawing a theatrical moan from Hal.

“Babe, there was nothing wrong with Spaceballs! It’s a wonderful comedy, you like that movie!” he said, with a tone that suggested he had had this argument more than a few times. His partner paid him no mind, continuing his search for a perfect movie.

“Hey, we haven’t seen “Grown-ups” have we? It’s got good reviews.” the blonde exclaimed, finally looking at Hal, who just shrugged.

“Whatever babe, as long as you’re happy.” he said, pulling his lover closer into a kiss. Barry grinned against his mouth, moving one hand to the back of Hal’s head. Breaking apart, Barry quickly started the movie and dipped his hand into the popcorn bowl.

“Thanks for the snacks love.” he muttered, curling against the taller man and resting his head on his shoulder. Predictably, Hal wrapped his arm around him and squeezed his waist. Both turned from the T.V. as the intro was broken by Barry’s cell, Iris’s name and picture lit up the screen as Barry removed it from his pocket.

“You mind if I take this?” Barry asked, biting his bottom lip with an apologetic look at Hal, who just shrugged.

“Yeah dude, she’s your sister! You answer if she calls, I would never come between you and your family!” Hal said, nudging Barry up, and reclaiming the popcorn bowl. Barry laughed.

“And you’re scared of her!” He crowed, raising from the green soda and making his way towards the kitchen. Hal nodded sagely.

“Everyone in their right mind is scared of your sister. You know she threatened to cut my balls off if she ever found out I hurt you?” He joked, though he grimaced as he remembered the fiery red-head turning those intense emerald greens at him, a whispered threat if anything happened to her adopted brother. Barry chuckled.

“She did mention it. I’ll tell her you say ‘hi’. Don’t eat all the popcorn!” He smirked, hitting the answer button and stepping into the kitchen. Hal smiled and leaned back, turning the volume down on the movie and popping a piece of buttery popcorn in his mouth. He sat dead up, as Barry’s angered “What?” came from the kitchen.

Barry stormed out like a man possessed, his normally kind blue eyes were hard and he looked ready to murder. Hal could hear Iris’s muffled voice from the other end, she sounded like she was biting back tears, though he couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“Yeah we’re on our way, be there as soon as we can.” he snapped, a tone he would normally never be caught dead using with his sister, but clearly whatever had just been passed on violated any sense of normalcy they had. Hal stood as Barry turned his attention to him.

“What’s going on?” the short question carried more weight than it should have, Hal was mentally going through what could be wrong. Had Joe had an accident, was something wrong with Iris? The possibilities were horribly endless.

“Wally’s in the hospital, in critical condition. Iris said he might not make it and we need to be there to deal with the cops.” Barry was pulling on his coat while simultaneously trying to lace up his boots. Hal jumped up, slamming the remote and bowl onto the table, movie still playing in the background.

“I’ll drive, you shouldn’t be behind a wheel right now.” Hal said, racing towards the entrance and snatching the keys from Barry.

“Oh and you should be?” Barry snarled, reaching for them, only for his lover to hold them out of reach.

“I’m military, we’re trained to stay calm under stress. It would be safer if I drove and this is not a debate,” Hal’s voice dripped with authority, and Barry slightly deflated. “We will get to Wally, love. I’ll get us there as fast as I can.”

Barry nodded and the pair slipped out into the cold November air, movie still playing on the television, popcorn abandoned on the coffee table.

~~~~~~~At The Hospital~~~~~

Barry raced into the waiting room and straight into a pacing Iris, eyes wet with tears. Hal rushed in just in time to see the too hug, drawing small comfort from the other, Barry grabbed Iris’s shoulders and pushed her away, looking her directly in the eyes.

“What happened? Where’s Wally?”  He asked, bringing another round of tears from Iris. Hal gently placed an arm around both of their shoulders, guiding them to the hard plastic chairs near the wall. As soon as they were seated Iris told what she knew.

“I got a call from the police about half an hour ago. The neighbours heard Rudolf swearing and yelling and they called the police, then they called again when they heard crashing. Rudy was taken to the police station drunk, apparently they found Wally at the bottom of the basement stairs with his head bleeding really badly. He wasn’t breathing, they had to restart his heart in the basement, and twice more in the ambulance. As soon as they got here they took him to an operating room and nobody told me anything since!” She sobbed, wiping her face with her palm.

“Well that’s a good thing right?” Hal asked, receiving disgusted looked from his boyfriend and his sister. “Guys, if their operating, it means Wally’s alive, at least. It’s a start.” identical dawns of realization crossed the sibling’s faces and Hals brain marveled at how similar they were, despite not being biologically related.

“What about Mary?” Barry asked, breaking Hal’s unhelpful train of thought. Iris shook her head.

“I don’t know, I haven't seen her though and I imagine they wouldn't have called me if she were. I’m Wally’s emergency contact, they only call me if his parents are unavailable.” The redhead looked to the male pair.

“I can’t believe Rudy would do that to his own son.” She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Wait, hold on! Are we sure Rudy is responsible for this? I mean I was never in this guy’s fan club but we’re talking what might be attempted murder.” Hal said, though his mind already knew what the answer was, kids didn’t do that kind of damage to themselves.

“From what the police told me, there were injuries that were…” She swallowed hard, like she was trying to keep the words from being said. “That had to have been done by another person, and Rudy was holding the weapon!” Her voice failed her as she trailed off into sobs yet again. Barry wrapped his arms around his sister and both of them clung to each other, the only sounds being muffled reassurances and choked sobs, Hal sat in silence, pointedly looking towards the hallway, giving the pair a sense of privacy. Iris took a deep breath, breaking away slightly, though still with her right hand grasping her brother’s forearm.

“I just can’t believe Rudy would do this! Bear, did you ever think that he would be capable of-” she broke off, green eyes taking a sudden interest in the tile floor. Hal snorted.

“Barry and I haven’t seen much of Rudy since we announced our relationship and Rudy told us in no short terms we weren’t welcome in his home. After that, he and Barry agreed on which holidays they got with the family and left it at that. That was around four years ago.” The trio collectively nodded. “Well Wally was only three then, and I never noticed any signs.” Barry muttered, trying to remember if anything in particular stood out to him but coming up with nothing.

“I think it may have started after Rudy lost his job. He started acting weird, I should have noticed something.” Iris sighed, her nephew should have been safe, and now here they were, three people who all cared deeply for a certain red haired child, sitting in an impersonal waiting room hoping to an inattentive god that their boy made it through the night.

~~~~~~~~~Hours Later~~~~~~~

Dr. Samanta strolled down the hallway from the operating theatre, most late night operations ended in crying relatives and having to call time of death, but tonight she got to tell a family that their loved one was able to live to see another day. Ducking into the waiting room, she instantly saw a trio occupying the corner of the waiting room, a red haired woman curled against a blonde man, with both of them tucked, sleeping, against a brunet who was gazing at her with a desperate look. She knew it well, it was a look many families gave her, as if silently pleading with her would change her news, like she wouldn’t keep all of them alive if she could. She knew who they were here for but she still called.

“Family of Walance West?” The blonde and red head jerked awake and the brunet straightened his back, waiting for the others to rise before standing himself. All three of them rushed to her, all with scared  expressions adjourning all of their faces.

“He suffered three broken ribs, one of which punctured his lung, a concussion, a bad sprain to his left wrist, multiple welts on his back are infected, and some mild internal bleeding. Because of the concussion, his brain started to swell but we were able to fix that. We patched his lungs up, though we do have him on oxygen for some time and in a medically induced coma, but he should make a full recovery.” She smiled as the trio started celebrate, the red head hugging her tightly, with a whispered, “Thank you for saving my nephew”

“Just doing my job. He’s still sleeping off the anesthesia and visiting hours are technically over, but if you all promise to be very quiet, you can sit with him for awhile-” she broke off as all three started on promises to be quiet and begging to see their family. She turned and gestured for them to follow her down the hall toward a small room in a corner, Wally lay in the middle of a cot that dwarfed him, making him look smaller than he was. A cobweb of wired and tubes disappeared into his gown and connected into his body, a pale turban of bandages covered his head, hiding his hair, while a tube connected to an oxygen mask rested over his mouth. The blonde put a hand over his mouth to cover a choked sound that came from his throat while he slipped closer.

“Wally?” he gasped, putting his other hand on the bed next to him, tears falling next to it, to quick for him to catch them all. The brunet crept next to him and put a comforting hand around his shoulder.

“You said he’s in a coma?” he whispered, turning those eyes on her. Dr. Samanta nodded. “A medically induced coma, just for a while. It should give his brain time to heal and for the swelling to go down, he’s young so the risk is small considering. You can talk to him, let him know you’re here.” The redhead nodded, slipping her hand into the childs. Dr. Samanta nodded, and turned, walking into the hallway, removing the surgical cap and replacing it with her Hijab.

“Doctor!” She turned to see the Brunet stalking towards her, freezing as he saw her head covering. She stood taller, bracing for a islamiphobic rant. Instead, he put his hand over his chest.

“I can not thank you enough for saving my nephew, my husband and I, and my sister in law are so grateful.” He nodded toward her head. “I was in Afghanistan, I met a lot of inspirational men and women there. If anyone gives you trouble for your faith, I will have some of my brothers in arms come talk to them.” She smiled.

“Thank you, Mr?”

“Jordan, Hal Jordan. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Wish I didn’t have to. I will keep you in mind, go take care of your boy. He’s had a rough time of it.” And with that, she turned down the hallway and disappeared around the corner. And there she finally allowed herself to truly smile.

~~~~~The Next Day~~~~~~

To say the atmosphere was tense would be an oversimplification. The police and social services had filled Iris, Barry and Hal in on what had happened and were trying to work out what came next.

“Listen, as much as we would love to place him in your care, the state requires married couples!” The social workers sighed, massaging his temples. “We can work out with a foster family to let you have visiting rights but right now none of you have the necessary requirements to house him. I agree it’s unfair, but there is nothing I can do.” With that, he stood, gathered his coat and hat, and left the room. Hal looked to Barry, who was quietly fuming in his seat.

“This is Bullshit! We know Wally, we love him, and we could care for him! But they want to put him with strangers because we aren’t married!” He hissed, blue eyes icy.

“We cannot let him disappear into the system!” Iris snarled, just the thought of strangers having unlimited access to her nephew was enough to make her sick. Hal nodded.

“He won’t be.” Getting out of his chair he pushed it away and knelt next to Barry, who startled.

“What are you doing?” He demanded, while Iris broke into a grin behind him. “Well they said we couldn’t take him because we aren’t married. We can fix that really easy.” Hal chuckled, putting his hands on Barry’s knees. The blonde smirked.

“I do believe you’re asking for my hand.” He joked.

“I am. Right now I’m just thinking a courthouse wedding, that way Wally’s safe but if you want a big ass, balls to the wall wedding, we can do that after we get settled. Hell, I’ll even wear the dress.” Barry smiled and threw his arms around his lover.

“Yes, I would love to marry you. We don’t need a huge service, we can have a small garden service in our yard, just some close friends and family. A small dinner, with cake.” He laughed, wiping his tears away happily. Hal nodded, touching their foreheads together.

‘Whatever you want love. But first, let’s make sure our boy is safe.”

~~~~~~A Week Later~~~~

Wally’s head hurt. His mind felt like he was thinking through a heavy fog, he was clumsy, his limbs never seeming to follow his thoughts.

“Useless” his father’s voice whispered in his head, causing him to stiffen up. His uncle noticed from where he was settled in the corner of the hospital room, getting up and coming towards him.

“Don’t hurt me! Please, i’ll be good! Pleasepleasepleaseplease!” He mentally pleaded as his Uncle Barry came closer, one hand slightly extended.

“Hey, you doing okay kiddo?” Barry whispered, though even that sounded too loud. The doctors had said that that was because of the concussion, he was already tired of it, the lights were too bright, the noises to loud, and he was jittery.

Wally nodded, though he still wouldn’t look Barry, who looked toward the door for Hal, who was finishing up paperwork.

“We’re really looking forward to having you live with us Wally. We have your room set up, just a bed and desk right now, but all your stuff from your parents house just needs to be unpacked, and ofcourse we can paint your room whatever colour you like.” Barry told him, desperately trying to engage his nephew, Wally was distant, barely speaking and flinching whenever Barry or Hal got to close. The oxygen was still required, though the face mask was replaced by a tube under his nose feeding it into his lungs when he breathed.

“Well, that’s the paperwork done! Ready to head home you two?” Hal asked, rushing into the room, a small mountain of paper under his arm. Both adults looked to Wally, who just shrugged. Barry looked to Hal, eyes sad as he went to get Wally into the wheelchair.

“I gotta pick you up kiddo, you okay?” He asked, getting another shrug. Barry settled the oxygen tank into Wally’s lap before slipping his arm under his legs and around his shoulders, carrying him bridal style across the room and placing him into a wheelchair. Hal put the papers into Barry’s satchel before taking up the handles of the chair and pushing him out into the hallway.

“The nurses have your last dose of painkillers at their station, though Barry and I will pick up your prescription later okay squirt?” Hal asked, when he received nothing he leaned closer and whispered.

“Personally, I think they just wanted to see you one last time before you left. I mean it’s not every day you get to spend time with THE Wally West.” The got a reaction, the adults noted, as Wally ducked his head, cheeks flushed a little.

“There’s my favourite redhead!” A man in nurse scrubs exclaimed, jogging up to the trio with a dixie cup and a ketchup cup. “I got your meds here little man.” Wally nodded, accepting the outstretched items and downing the pills.

“Now those should make you feel drowsy, so no driving. Other than that, you guys are good to go.��� The nurse gently clapped Wally on the shoulder and Hal pushed him towards the exit. Leaving the wheelchair with the front dsk and carrying his nephew out to their car.

Wally vaguely felt Hal clip his seatbelt into place and shut the door, he leaned his head against the window as Barry crawled into the passenger seat, turning to face him.

“Do you mind if I put on some music, Wally? I promise to keep it quiet.” Wally shrugged.

“I don’t mind, Sir.” He muttered, listening as Barry pluged his phone into the USB and Hamilton started playing from the speakers.

“You guys like musicals?” He asked, noticing how Barry lit up as he asked the question, though it was Hal who answered.

“Oh yeah, we go see local productions all the time, and we choose one Broadway musical a year. How about you?” Hal didn’t stop trying to navigate them out of the busy hospital parking lot, but he did glance at Wally in the rear view mirror, Wally just nodded.

“Yeah, but Dad never let me listen to them, he said boys weren’t meant to like them.” Barry rolled his eyes hard, knowing his adopted brothers stance on musicals and other “soft” passions, but he didn’t voice his opinions.

“Well, we don’t mind and musicals are absolutely for boys to like!” Barry said, turning as much as the seat belt would allow to look at Wally. The young red head smiled, before his face spit into a yawn.

“You just rest kiddo, we have about an hour drive ahead of us. We’ll wake you when we get home.” Wally nodded at his uncles words and leaned his head against the window, the cool glass pulling him into sleep.

~~~~~~At the House~~~~

Barry and Hal quietly shut their car doors and Barry went to grab Wally. Hal threw their overnight bags over his shoulder and went to go unlock the door for his lover carrying their kid, Pushing his way inside, he waited while Barry carried a sleeping Wally over to the couch in the living room.

“Hey babe, can you go draw a bath in the upstairs bathroom?” Barry asked, eyes not leaving the sleeping child on his lap.

“Are you sure he’s up for a bath right now? Kid will barely talk to us.” He pointed out with a frown. Barry just shook his head.

“I’m not really concerned about that right now, he hasn’t had a proper bathe since before the hospital, his immune system is already weak and we don’t need any of his wounds getting more infected than they already are.” He said with a finality that made arguing pointless, though Hal had to agree with him, the poor kid was filthy.

“Alright, I’ll come get you when it’s ready, kay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to Barry’s head, before darting up the stairs to the rarely used main bathroom, Hal and Barry often used the adjoining bathroom to their bedroom so the main was often only for guests, which they didn’t get a lot of. Hal turned on the water and pushed the plug into the drain, watching as the tub filled to about half before shutting off the tap and heading back downstairs to his husband.

“Baths ready.” He muttered, watching as Barry stood up. Wally was a little more awake, though from the look on his face it was iffy, the kid looked like he could pass out at any given moment. The blonde carefully took the stairs and slipped into the bathroom, setting Wally on the closed toilet, before gently removing his clothing.

“W’er you doin?” Wally mumbled, squirming a little as Barry lifted him up again before transporting him into the bath.

“Just cleaning you up love, you’re okay.” Barry comforted, trying to simultaneously keep the child upright and clean the grime off him. Hal grimaced, he had seen Wally’s injuries but somehow, when they were all displayed, they seemed worse, it didn’t help that he was drugged and clearly on the verge of panic. Barry was getting stressed as well, trying to keep the boy’s head up with one hand and clean the dirt off with the other, when it got to be apparent that it wasn’t working, Hal placed his phone and wallet on the countertop before gently pushing Barry to the side.

“What are you- Hal!” Barry yelped, watching with sheer disbelief as his husband slipped into the water, cradling Wally against his chest.

“Helping you. Now he can sit up without you having to hold him.” Ha said, plainly as though he was discussing the weather. Barry looked at him, dumbstruck for a moment, before he burst out laughing.

“god, I married an idiot!” He exclaimed, before he put some soap on a washcloth and gently started washing the dirt off Wally’s skin, careful of his bruises and cuts. Hal just pressed a gentle kiss to Wally’s head, and hummed a tune under his breath. Wally started giggling.

“Uncle Hal, you’re gonna get your clothes wet.” His voice still had the slur brought on by heavy painkillers, but he seemed a little more aware of his surroundings. At least enough to take in the hilarity of the situation.

“Oh, I think he knows squirt.” Barry sighed, shaking his head at the nonsense. “He probably thought it would be funny. Hal, did you seriously not take your socks off!” Barry demanded, causing Hal and Wally to sit up slightly to examine Hals socked feet, now soaking wet.

“Well, what do you know?” Hal asked, his face a picture of innocence, “I guess I didn’t” He smiled at Barry, who snorted and muttered something under his breath, while Wally laughed again, harder this time.

“Well I’m glad you two find this funny, but we only brought one towel in, so Hal, you have to stay in the tub till you dry.” Barry scolded, unsuccessfully hiding his smile. “Okay squirt, all done.” He slipped his hands under Wally and lifted him from the water, wrapping him in an oversized, fluffy red towel, before carrying him out of the room.

“Whoa, hey, babe! Come on please, just bring me a towel.” Hal called, sitting upright as the pair left the room. Barry looked at Wally, tilting his head.

“You hear anything squirt?” He asked, laughing when Wally shook his head. “Me neither, come on let’s get you to bed.” Hal groaned as Barry left the room.

Five minutes later, Barry strode in carrying a green towel, offering it to his grumpy partner, who was now quite soggy, Hal took it and started to dry himself off.

“I don’t know why people say you’re the merciful League member, you have a wicked side.” Hal grumbled, walking towards the master bedroom, Barry chuckled.

“Only when my husband get into a bathtub fully clothed.”

“Well, jokes on you, because I got Wally to giggle!” Hal said, pulling Barry into a hug.

“Ah, you moron, you’re all wet!” Barry squawked, pushing away from the pilot, who pulled him closer. Barry rolled his eyes as Hal changed from wet clothes into clean pajama, settling down into bed.

“You know? I think we can pull this parenting thing off.” Hal whispered, hugging Barry close. The two fell asleep with their hands entwined, the house one member up, and a little bit happier.

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[killervibe]

Puzzles

A really really REALLY fluffy Cisco/Caitlin fic! <3 

~.~ 

There’s a fluttering in her stomach. It’s not morning sickness, and it can’t be her minuscule baby. It’s nerves, excited jittering, little butterflies flapping their wings inside of her. The back of Caitlin’s chair dips as she leans back against it, pensive.

 It has to be perfect. It needs to be. 

 She thinks about Cisco’s smile, imagining the way he’ll beam. How his eyes crinkle in the corners, and his face will light up like the sun. She smoothes the paper in front of her, a thousand scenarios running through her mind. 

 How will she tell him? That he’s going to be a dad. That he’ll have a tiny baby to hold in his arms in a few months time. A child who will be the perfect mix of him and herself. An infant she already knows their father will love until they both grow old and more. 

 She thinks about her own father, long gone now, in every way she ever knew him. But it’s the memory that lingers. The early years. She thought about hop scotch and bicycle rides. Birthdays and crossword puzzles. The science they learned. She thought about the games they played. 

 Tapping her pen against her desk, she brightened. The plan crystallized in her mind. That’s exactly how she’ll do it.

 ~.~ 

 The sun was beginning to set through the windows of the Speed Lab as Barry raced around the track for the gazillionth time. Caitlin stepped in with a folder tucked neatly under her elbow, her heels clicking down the friction resistant flooring installed in the room as she made her way to Cisco. He sat over the edge of the sideline area, his arms looped around the lower railing as he bit his lip with deep concentration. 

 Cisco never really bothered watching Barry run anymore unless there was some logistical component he was interested in analyzing. There wasn’t any rush or emergency this week which would warrant such a thing, which could only mean— Caitlin smiled, sidling up to him. “Another suit, really?” 

 Cisco was crunching some numbers on his tablet, rolling his eyes at her teasing. “There is never an excuse not to be current with the fashion trends. Thought you of all people would understand that.” 

 Caitlin scooted forward, climbing under the railing to sit with him. He stopped to help smooth out her dress skirt when it got rucked up. His hand glided over her covered thigh affectionately. Caitlin covered his hand there with her own so she could hold it, lacing their fingers together. Cisco adjusted easily, tracking Barry’s speed now by poking at the numbers on the screen with his other hand. 

 “I understand fashion,” she argued, “but this is his twelfth suit.” 

 He scoffed. “It’s not the twelfth! I only have eight models saved in my draft history.” 

 Caitlin huffed. He turned to cock an eyebrow at her. “Why? You want an update too?” 

 She thought about it. No, she was very happy with her Frost suit. And then, would Caitlin even need a new one any time soon? It may very well be that her crime fighting days were temporarily over. She was about to tell Cisco that when she remembered he wouldn’t get it. Not yet, anyway. This was why she had come to find him here in the first place. 

 “I’m good,” she promised him, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Can you open a breach? I’m heading home. How long will you be out here?”

 He opened a breach with the careless ease of a flicked finger off his touch screen. “Not long.” 

 Caitlin crossed her arms, unconvinced. He seemed much too absorbed in what they were doing for that to be true. He sensed her gaze and glanced at her sideways. “Not long,” he promised again. “I’ll have a beautiful girlfriend at home waiting for me.” 

 Their eyes locked as he gave her one of his lopsided, heart-wrenching grins. The one that made her weak at the knees. So stuffed full with his transparent love for her that Caitlin wasn’t exactly convinced it wouldn’t knock her up if she weren’t pregnant already. 

 Caitlin reflected his look right back at him, softening like butter. He trailed his eyes down her figure, now that she was stood up in front of him.

  He finally noticed the brown office folder in her grasp. “Hey, what’s that?”

She let him take it out of her hands, trying to school her face into a neutral expression. It was hard, she was already fighting off her excited grin. “Oh, this?” She watched him tilt his head at the graph paper and pen scribbles. 

 “It’s a coded equation. I’ve been trying to crack it for the last hour but I’m tired. I’ll try it again in the morning.” She tried to pull it back, but he held on, falling for her bait like a fish on a hook. 

 “I can do it,” he offered. She knew he would.

 “—Oh, Cisco, no, I wouldn’t ask you—” 

 “It’s not hard! I love these things. Where did it come from?”

Caitlin shrugged vaguely, neither confirming or denying his theories of where this came from. He already thought its a meta from another dimension. Caitlin turned to stifle a giggle into the palm of her hand. Barry was completely forgotten, as Cisco drew his knees up to place the papers against them like an easel, leaning forward to squint at her fake attempts to ‘crack’ the code. Cisco’s breach was still swirling patiently behind them. He realized she hadn’t left yet, and shooed his hand at her to go into the breach, promising to meet up with her for dinner.

 Caitlin gave him a kiss goodbye, then did as she was told, the blue swirling vortex closed behind her as she made it to their bedroom. After brushing her hair and changing out of her stockings to put on something more comfortable, she stood in front of her mirror. 

 Slowly, her left hand trailed down her neck, past the slope of her shoulders and curve of her breast to land gently on her flat stomach. She slid her hand under her cozy sweater, tapping her skin there, deep in thought. In the mirror, she didn’t look any different. But she felt so. 

 “Only Iris knows about you,” Caitlin found herself saying to her itty bitty child. “That’ll change soon.” She glanced at the clock. “Shouldn’t be long now.”

 Caitlin’s smile in her reflection was unlike any she’d ever seen in any pictures of herself before. 

It took a while after the initial shock in the Star Labs basement bathroom to really process that she was going to have a baby with Cisco. Caitlin was in denial for most of the day, locking herself in her Med Bay to keep from seeing Cisco. 

 She knew Cisco wanted kids. Caitlin wasn’t as sure. She thought there was a feeling she was supposed to get. This gut instinctual one where she wakes up one morning with a green neon sign in her brain blinking on and off that sings You’re Ready! Today You Want to Become A Mom! 

 Iris laughed when Caitlin described it, and now she understood she didn’t need to have woken up to that neon green mental signal to feel confident that this was a really good idea. 

 The sense of Good Idea-Ness  only intensified as the day grew longer, and Caitlin was fidgeting, trying to keep the news to herself as she planned the surprise. Now she couldn’t wait. 

 Just as she picked up her cell phone to order in dinner, a breach emerged out of nowhere. Cisco flailed out of it, calling her name as he waved the solved puzzle around the air. With crazed eyes and a frantic bumbling kind of awkwardness, he spun around in a full circle, shouting unintelligibly. He was so out of sorts it took him a few seconds to realize she was standing with a hand on her hip right in front of him. When he did, his eyes widened. He thrusted the solved periodic table of elements sequence at her, as if he wanted her to see for herself. 

“Is this true?! Caitlin, is this for real?” 

 She nodded, light in her eyes as he let out a giddy laugh, pulling her into his arms immediately.

 “For real? You’re pregnant?” 

 "Yes!" Caitlin giggled into the crook of his neck as he spun her around, then pulled herself from there to step back and memorize his reaction. 

 Tears were dripping down his cheeks. Caitlin’s finger swiped against his face gently, brushing the moisture away. She nodded once again. 

 He studied her with tenderness, leaning into her touch. “And you’re ready for this? You want to have a baby with me?”

 “I want everything with you, Cisco.”

 Cisco looked so dumbfounded, like he couldn’t believe his luck. He glanced down at her sweater, his hands jumping in the space between their bodies, hovering over her abdomen.  

 “Can I…?” 

 “There’s nothing to see,” she warned him, but lifted the sweater up anyways. His warm hands pressed lightly against her skin on her stomach. 

 “Wow,” he breathed in awe. “A baby Caitlin.” 

 Caitlin quirked an eyebrow. “Declaring genders already, are we?” 

 He grinned up at her sheepishly after crouching down to place a soft wet kiss over her bellybutton. “Baby Snow,” he corrected himself. He carefully tucked her sweater back in place, and rose to kiss Caitlin’s lips happily once, then twice. 

 “Baby Snow,” she repeated to herself. She wrinkled her nose. “Really?” 

 “What?” he murmured hot against her cheek.  

 Caitlin wrapped her arms around his waist, Cisco’s solved puzzle still in hand as they stood in the middle of the kitchen. “I was thinking baby Ramon.” 

 “Snow-Ramon?” he tried. 

 “Ramon-Snow sounds better,” she shot back. 

 Cisco pulled a face. “I don’t know about that.” 

 Caitlin laughed at their ridiculousness. “Let’s just call it our baby.” 

 Screw her medical degree; Cisco gazed into her eyes with an intensity she’s certain this time had the power to impregnate. She tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear lovingly. “We have time.” 

 “I can do that,” he said and kissed her again. 

[starletwriting]

Killervibe Week Day Two: Canon Divergent

Word Count: 1051

Notes: You remember that one episode in season one when Cisco died in an erased timeline? That episode sure was angsty, wasn’t it? I wonder what could make it even angstier. Oh, I know!

Takes place during 1x15, in the few minutes in between Cisco’s death and when Barry resets the timeline.

Disclaimer: When I refer to Dr. Wells in this fic, I’m referring to Eobard Thawne in disguise as Dr. Wells, but seeing as how Caitlin doesn’t know his real name at this point, I’m calling him Dr. Wells.

Warning: Major character death (albeit one that was shown in the actual show, but still); mentions of blood and fatal wounds; coping with a betrayal; coping with loss of a best friend; blaming oneself for something that isn’t their fault; angst without a happy ending

Tags: @thatkillervibe @shakesqueer-writes @narniasfinestavengingsociopath

~~~

Caitlin’s mind was still reeling. When Cisco had told her that he suspected Dr. Wells, she thought he was mistaken. Not that she doubted Cisco, of course, but… it was Dr. Wells. He wasn’t evil. Or at least she thought.

She couldn’t shake the image from her mind. She was in Jitters, ordering the coffee to go, and she turned around and he was gone. Like that. The only thing left behind was his wheelchair. Dr. Wells has been paralyzed ever since the particle accelerator explosion. It just wasn’t possible. He couldn’t so much as stand without his wheelchair, and for him to have left Jitters in the few seconds it took for Caitlin to order the coffee… Forget just being able to walk. He would’ve had to have been a speedster.

Which means Cisco was right all along.

Dr. Wells isn’t just working with the Reverse-Flash.

He is the Reverse-Flash.

Their boss is the man who killed Barry’s mother.

All Caitlin could feel was the adrenaline. There were a million thoughts racing through her head. The only thing faster than them was her heartbeat, thumping in her chest at a thousand beats per second. She had looked up to Dr. Wells since the very first day she came to work for him. He wasn’t just her boss. He was her hero. He helped her, guided her, inspired her. He was her friend. He helped her cope with Ronnie’s death. A day ago, Caitlin would’ve vouched that Dr. Wells was one of the most compassionate men she knows. Now, Caitlin knows the truth.

He’s a murderer.

Her heartbeat froze in terror as a thought occurred to her.

Cisco’s in trouble.

Cisco was investigating Dr. Wells. If Dr. Wells knew he was in danger of being found out, who knows what awful things he could do to Cisco.

She ran into Star Labs calling Cisco’s name. Each time she spoke it, she became more frantic, her heartbeat raced a little faster. Her mind started to fill up with fears, the dread started to sink into her stomach. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself before continuing.

The basement.

Of course. Cisco said he was going to be in the basement.

Caitlin ran down the hallways, all the way to the Star Labs basement. The adrenaline made her run faster than she ever had before, but she didn’t care about how fast she was running. All she cared about was seeing Cisco again.

Finally, after what felt like centuries, the doors opened, letting Caitlin into the basement.

The sight sickened Caitlin so much she wished she had never stepped foot into the basement at all.

There he was. Cisco Ramon, her best friend in the whole wide world, the only person who truly knew how to make her laugh since Ronnie passed away, the guy who brought her chocolates and a movie when she was feeling down, the guy she had spent countless lunches at Big Belly Burger with, laughing endlessly at some joke. He was just a few yards away from her.

And he was dead.

She was too late.

Caitlin rushed forwards and kneeled by his side. There was a fresh wound right in the middle of his rib cage, directly where his heart is. Wet blood stained his shirt. His lifeless eyes were still wet with tears that hadn’t quite dried.

“No, no, NO!”

This was all her fault. If only she had stalled Dr. Wells for a bit longer. If only she had arrived sooner. If only she had been there. She’s a doctor, she could’ve done something, anything to save him, she would’ve given her own life in his place if she had to-

Caitlin couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t feel, she couldn’t hear her own pained screams. Tears trickled down her cheeks and she didn’t care enough to wipe them away. She felt lightheaded, but she didn’t care enough to do anything about it.

Her heart twang with regret. If only she had more time. She would’ve binged the Walking Dead with him no matter how confusing it was to her, she would’ve brought him Big Belly Burger to repay him for the time he bought her lunch, she would’ve treasured each and every moment they shared. She would’ve told him how much he meant to her.

Cisco’s laugh could light up a whole room. His eyes twinkled with enthusiasm whenever he spoke about his favorite classic movies. Caitlin always chastised him about his enormous sweet tooth, but sometimes he’d share his candy with her, even though he never shared with Barry. He ordered the same thing each time at Big Belly Burger, but every time without fail he’d study the menu for a few minutes as if he was going to change it up this time. He never did.

Caitlin grasped Cisco’s hand in hers as she sobbed.

Now she’d never experience any of that again.

Her best friend was gone. The person who knew her best, the person who could make her laugh when she was feeling down, the person who stood by her side no matter what… gone.

Caitlin’s tears felt heavy against her cheeks.

The lump in her throat only intensified, making it harder to swallow or breathe. She clutched Cisco’s shirt in her fists, holding onto him even though she knew he would never respond, even though it hurt her more to hold him and not feel a heartbeat.

This was all Wells.

He killed Cisco.

Caitlin didn’t know how, but… she was gonna make him pay.

She clenched her fist with a newfound rage, and stormed out of the basement.

[ringa-starr]

What You Mean to Me Ch 8

A/N: Hey all my lovely dudes and dudettes! I really hated to do this but, I decided to split up part 8 because it was becoming too overwhelming and I didn’t want to keep you guys reading forever.

That being said, please enjoy this chapter and please like, comment, and give me your reactions..or don’t it’s up to you ;) 

Anyways stay excellent, breathtaking, and for the love of God be excellent to each other.

I love you guys

-Deidra <3

Deidra stopped walking when she could see her house in the distance, the sun having set ten minutes ago.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she willed herself to calm down, her hurting heart pounding in her chest as she slowly wiped her face with both hands, taking her sweet time walking up her sidewalk.

Relief mixed in with a bit of disappointment washed over her at the sight of Barry’s car not being in the driveway.

She could have really used the comfort of her twin right then.

‘He must still be out with Lainey”, Deidra said to herself as she walked up the driveway to the front door.

Sighing, Deidra opened the door, being met with the faint sounds of Adam playing Super Mario Brothers 2 downstairs in the basement as well as the sight of her dad sitting in his favorite lounge chair in the living room, watching Gilligan’s Island with Lucky curled up in his lap.

Hearing the door open, Lucky’s furry little head popped up, her tongue sticking out as she jumped out of Murray’s lap and ran as fast as her furry little legs would carry her to Deidra.

“Hey, girl!” Deidra greeted the puppy softly with forced enthusiasm, forcing a big smile on her face as well.

Slightly leaning down, Deidra picked the small, white Cockapoo up, Lucky immediately licking the teenager’s face with wet, loving doggy kisses.

Deidra’s forced smile turned into a real small one as Lucky’s kisses caused her to giggle.

“Thank you for the kisses, baby”, she said, rubbing Lucky’s cold, wet nose against her own right before Lucky started licking her face again.

“Thank you for the kisses”, Dedra repeated in a baby voice, causing her to laugh a little harder.

“Hey, moron”, Murry said from his spot in his chair, not taking his eyes off the tv. “Keep it down. I’m trying to watch tv in here,”

“Sorry, Dad”, Deidra apologized with a lighter smile before walking upstairs with Lucky in her arms.

After opening her bedroom door, Deidra placed Lucky on her bed, the puppy immediately going over to one of her owner’s fluffy throw pillows and trying to find a comfortable spot on it before lying down, curling herself up in a nice, little ball of curly, white fluff.

Deidra laughed at the sound of Lucky’s soft, deep breathing being heard a few minutes later indicating she was sound asleep.

Smiling, Deidra petted the puppy on the head as her personalized ring tone for Emily went off in her pocket.

“Hey”, Deidra greeted her best friend after answering her phone.

“Hey”, Emily replied, sticking a mini pretzel stick in her mouth as she lay on her stomach on her bed, a magazine laying open in front of her. “How’d it go?”

“With my parents or Ted?” Deidra asked.

“Both really”, Emily answered honestly, “but I was thinking more about Ted. Did he take the news okay?”

“Oh, Em it was awful”, Deidra admitted, feeling her heart hurt again.

Emily’s eyes widened, not expecting this at all.

“Why? What happened, Dee?” she asked.

Deidra did her very best to tell Emily the whole story without breaking down again, and surprisingly, she succeeded.

“What?!” Emily cried a lot louder than she intended once Deidra had finished her story.

Meanwhile outside Emily’s room, River was walking down the hall towards his own bedroom, gently tossing a shiny red apple in the air.

He stopped when he heard his sister’s exclamation, carefully pressing his ear to her closed bedroom door.

“You mean to tell me”, Emily said slowly, her voice filling with more anger by the minute as she sat on the edge of her bed, “that you told Ted that you’re pregnant with his baby and he just denied it like that…and even denied you two had something between you?!”

Deidra nodded, even though she knew Emily couldn’t see her.

“Pretty much, yeah”, was her reply.

Outside his sister’s bedroom door, River clenched his beautiful white teeth in anger as he threw the apple he was holding on the hardwood floor before running to his room.

Hearing a door slam open and closed a few times, Emily looked at her own bedroom door nervously out of the corner of her eye.

“Uh, Dee”, she finally said slowly and just as nervously into the phone. “Let me call you back. I think River might need my help with something.”

“Okay”, Deidra answered. “I need to go talk to my parents anyway.”

After wishing her best friend luck, Emily hung up and placed her cell phone in the pocket of her pajama shorts before rushing out of her bedroom only to see River with his jean jacket on, a metal baseball bat clutched in his fist.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Emily cried out, eyes wide as she hurried after her brother, following him down the stairs, his long, golden hair hitting her in the face a few times she was that close behind him.

At the bottom of the stairs, Emily reached out and shoved the barely open front door closed, River’s free hand still on the doorknob.

“Emmy, let me go!” River growled, fire in his diamond blue eyes. “I need to teach that bastard a hard lesson!”

“River, don’t do this!” Emily cried, knowing exactly what he was planning on doing. “You have a reputation to uphold!”

“To hell with my reputation!” River cried, his heart pounding in his chest as he thought about his sister’s best friend. “Deidra’s like another sister to me and to know someone’s hurt her and I don’t do anything-“

River cut himself off, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath, his lips formed in a thin line, the bat still clutched in his hand.

“River please”, Emily begged, trying to convince her brother otherwise. “Don’t do something you’ll regret!”

River let out another slow, deep breath, Emily feeling his tense body relax a bit as she gripped his arm tight.

“You know what, Em”, he finally said, slowly opening his eyes and looking at his younger sister. “You’re right. I do need to think this through.”

Emily let out the breath she was holding as she released her hold on her brother, a small smile crossing her face.

“Good”, she sighed. “T-This is good. I’m sure everything will work out, Riv. Maybe you could give Ted a call and-“

“Oh, no”, River cut her off just as calmly. “I’m going to do better than that.”

“Good”, Emily said again. “Wh- “

River threw the door open, a scowl on his handsome features, the cold wind sending his hair flying back.

“In order for me to really get my point across…I’m going to need a bit of help”, River announced, showing his sister the sinister smirk on his face before running out of the house and into his white 2010 Volkswagen Rutan.

“What?!” Emily exclaimed, eyes as big as plates and she worked to get her flip flops that were sitting by the front door on as quick as she could.

“N-N-N-No wait!” she cried, hurrying out the front door quickly, slamming it behind her. “River!”

~~

Back at the Goldberg’s Adam had just reached the top of the stairs from the family’s downstairs area and met Deidra halfway in the living room.

“Hey, Deidra”, Adam greeted his older sister with a wide smile. “Do you wanna play D&D with me? I’ll let you be Dungeon Master.”

Deidra smiled warmly and gave Adam a quick hug.

“Maybe”, she said, “but right now I really need to talk to mom and dad about something important.”

Adam nodded.

“It’s ok”, he said. “I can wait.”

Adam followed his sister into the kitchen where their mother was cooking dinner, Deidra sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Hey my little, Snuggle Monsters!” Beverly greeted the two when she heard them come into the kitchen. “I hope you two are hungry. It’s meatloaf night!”

“Yes!” Deidra sighed, a big smile on her face. “I’m starving!”

Beverly turned from where she was standing at the stove and smiled at her younger daughter.

“I’m glad to hear that, Shmoopy”, she said with a loving smile before she kissed Deidra’s head. “You had me a little worried there for a bit.”

She walked back to the stove, stirring a small pot full of green peas.

“It seems like you really haven’t had much of an appetite these past few days.”

Deidra felt her blood suddenly go cold, nervousness surrounding her as she remembered what she had to tell her parents.

She tried to force the smile back on her face as her mother laughed before adding, “I was actually going to take you to the doctor if- “

“Bevy!” Murray’s voice cried from the living room before walking into the kitchen a moment or so later. “There’s something wrong with the tv!”

“I’ll help you fix it, Dad”, Adam offered, placing his glass of orange juice on the table.

“Um, actually Dad I’m glad you’re in here”, Deidra admitted, getting more nervous by the minute, “because I really need to talk to you and mom about something.”

Murray shrugged before sitting down across from his daughter at the table.

“Might as well”, he sighed. “Looks like I’m not going to get to see the end of Gilligan’s Island tonight.”

“Dad”, Adam said in a nonchalant voice, “they don’t get off the island.”

“Shmoopy”, Beverly said as she turned the stove down and walked over to the table, sitting down beside her husband, concern lacing her voice. “What’s the matter?”

Deidra sighed, playing with her hands in her lap before noticing that Adam was still in the room.

“Adam, can I talk to mom and dad alone?” she asked. “Please?”

Adam nodded before downing the rest of his juice.

“Okay?” he replied, confusion filling his own voice. “Umm I’ll go look at the tv, Dad.”

With that he left the room.

“Alright”, Murray said once Adam had left. “What’s going on?”

Deidra looked down at her hands again, afraid to look back up at her parents.

“This is so hard to say”, she admitted quietly, “but I have to.”

“Deidra?” Beverly asked, getting more concerned by the minute.

~~

In the living room, Adam was trying to figure out what was going on with the tv when the front door opened, Barry and his girlfriend Lainey walking in arm-in-arm.

“Hey”, Barry greeted Adam. “Where is everyone?”

“In the kitchen”, Adam replied, turning to look at his brother. “Deidra wanted to talk to Mom and Dad alone.”

A mixture of confusion and concern came over Barry as he quietly pressed his ear against the closed kitchen door.

“Barry”, Lainey quietly scolded her boyfriend. “You shouldn’t spy on them!”

“Why didn’t I think of this?” Adam asked just as quietly as he pressed his own ear to the door.

“Because you’re not as smart as me, dork”, Barry replied with a prideful smile.

Lainey frowned and shook her head.

~~

“What’s going on, Dee?” Beverly asked from where she sat at the kitchen table.

Tears filled Deidra’s eyes as she looked up at her parents’ faces.

“I’m pregnant”, she told them before breaking down in tears, covering her face with her hands.

“WHAT?!” Murray, Barry, and Adam cried in shocked unison.

Beverly’s only response was her eyes growing as big as plates, covering her mouth with both hands, her eyes slowly filling with tears of her own.

Deidra put her head down on the table and started crying.

“Y-You can’t be”, Beverly gasped, not know what to feel at that moment.

“I am”, Deidra insisted, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Murray was suddenly like a ticking time bomb, getting ready to explode, his face getting redder and redder and his breathing getting heavier and heavier.

“WHAT KIND OF DUMB ARE YOU?!” Murray finally exclaimed, his voice filled with anger as he jumped up on his feet, knocking his chair over in the process.

“Murray, calm down”, Beverly told her husband calmly, gripping his arm.

Before Murray could respond, the kitchen door opened, and a still shocked Barry walked in.

“D-Did I hear that right?” he asked.

“Bear-“Deidra began only to be cut off by her twin.

“Are…you…pregnant?” Barry basically growled, anger welling up inside him as well.

Deidra only nodded her head yes before looking down at her hands again.

“Okay”, Barry said while nodding his head, his voice full of determination. “Okay…I’m killing him.”

“Barry don’t!” Deidra begged, tears falling down her face.

“We don’t even know for sure yet”, Beverly pointed out. “It could have been a fake positive.”

“12 false positives?” Deidra asked in a quiet voice.

“What?!” Murray and Barry cried again in perfect unison before Murray sank down in his chair, rubbing his temples.

“That bastard!” Barry growled.

Beverly reached out and gave Deidra’s hand a gentle squeeze, Lainey and Adam walking in the kitchen.

“I’ll make you a doctor’s appointment for first thing in the morning”, she told Deidra.

“And if you’re really pregnant”, Murray added, fire in his eyes, “you’re out of here!”

“What?!” Deidra cried.

“You heard me!” Murray yelled back. “I won’t have a little whore living under my roof!”

Everyone in the room gasped at that, Deidra feeling her heart shatter.

“Murray!” Beverly cried as Deidra sobbed uncontrollably in Barry’s arms, her older brother stroking her back and kissing her head.

Before anyone else could say anything, the doorbell rang, Adam hurrying to answer it.

There on the Goldberg’s front porch stood River with Emily a couple steps behind him, his arms down to his sides and still clutching the baseball bat in his hand.

“I guess you guys know now too, huh?” Emily asked, seeing everyone walk out into the living room, Deidra’s eyes still filled with tears.

Murray nodded and grinned at the bat in River’s hand.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Mr. Goldberg?” River asked with a deviant smile.

The older man grinned and nodded his head.

“Indeed, I am, River”, the older man replied. “I really am.”

“Okay, now let’s just stop for a moment and take a deep breath”, Beverly said as she stepped in front of the two.  “Let’s try talking this out like adults.”

“Talk about what?” Murray demanded. “How some dumbass, good-for-nothing teenage boy got my daughter pregnant?!”

“Oh, so now I’m your daughter?” Deidra snapped. “I thought I was just a little whore on the street to you!”

At this, River and Emily’s jaws dropped as well.

“You watch how you talk to me, young lady!” Murray commanded. “Or I’ll throw your ass out right now!”

Lainey gently took Barry’s arm.

“C’mon”, she said softly. “Let’s go get a snack.”

Reluctantly, Barry followed his girlfriend into the kitchen, Adam not too far behind.

~~

“That bastard’s gonna get it!” Barry growled, slamming his fist into his other hand before sitting down at the kitchen table with Adam.

“Barry”, Lainey said as she opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of milk, “like your sister said please don’t.”

“That little bastard got my sister…my twin sister pregnant, Babe!” Barry exclaimed. “He needs his ass beat!”

“No, you don’t need to do that”, Lainey said as she placed a glass of milk in front of Adam and Barry before setting down a plate of chocolate chip cookies in the middle of the table.

She then sat down at the table with her own cup of milk. “You could go to jail.”

“Then I’m going to”, Adam spoke up.

“You’re eleven and he’s seventeen”, Barry replied. “You can’t do a damn thing, Adam.”

“Shut up, Barry”, Adam snapped back. “I will for either one of my sisters!”

“Neither one of you is killing him!” Lainey spoke up. “Look that unborn child needs a father and if you kill him Barry, then that baby doesn’t get one.”

Barry looked down at the plate of cookies before taking a deep breath.

“You’re right, Babe”, he quietly admitted. “I know you’re right.”

“Of course I am”, Lainey replied with a smirk, giving Barry a hug. “Aren’t I always?”

She smiled and kissed his lips as Emily and River walked in the kitchen.

“Ahhh, man!” River cried. “One pregnant teen around here is more than enough!”

Emily and Adam laughed as Barry and Lainey broke apart, River giving them a smile.

“Just messing with you, Barry”, River said, giving him a light hit on the arm.

“Yeah Bear”, Lainey added. “Just be there for your sister. That’s what she really needs right now.”

“Yeah”, Emily said, stealing a cookie off Barry’s plate. “Especially since Ted denied he was the baby’s dad.”

Lainey slowly closed her eyes, facepalming herself as she realized that speech she made to Barry and Adam had been all for naught.

“WHAT?!” River, Barry, and Adam yelled in unison, causing Deidra, Emily, Beverly, and Murray to run into the kitchen.

“What happened?” Beverly demanded. “What’s wrong?”

“Emily just informed us that Ted denies he’s the father of Deidra’s baby”, Adam explained.

Deidra covered her face in her hands, tears pouring down her face again as the events of what happened earlier came back to mind.

Beverly gently pulled her teenage daughter in a loving embrace, holding her close.

Barry and River exchanged looks of anger before River nodded his head, resulting in Barry walking over to one of the kitchen drawers…and taking out a large knife.

“Let’s roll!” Barry snapped, everything Lainey had told him before going right out the window.

“I’m in”, River replied, following Barry out the front door.

“Me too”, Adam chimed in, grabbing his camera from the living room dresser and following the boys outside.

“I’ll drive”, Murray said, grabbing his keys off the coffee table in the living room.

“H-h-hey wait a minute!” Emily cried, hurrying to catch up with the guys. “Hang on a second guys. Let’s think about this…”

And with that, the front door shut, leaving Deidra sobbing in Beverly’s arms, Lainey softly rubbing her back.

“Dee, you really need to calm down”, Lainey advised her boyfriend’s sister softly. “This really isn’t good for you or the baby…i-if you are pregnant”, she added after a short pause.

“Lainey’s right, Shmoo”, Beverly added, kissing Deidra’s head again before pulling apart slightly. “Come over here to the couch and try to relax.”

“Y-You mean…y-you’re not mad at me?” Deidra asked Beverly.

Deidra’s mother gave her a small smile and lightly shook her head no.

“Not mad”, she replied. “Just a little disappointed.”

Deidra started taking slow, deep, shaky breaths, feeling her heart rate decrease some.

“Here, Dee”, Laniey said softly coming back from the kitchen a moment later and handing her a cup of water.

“Thanks, Lainey”, Deidra said softly, giving her a small smile before drinking a little.

Taglist:

@shhh-no-ones-home @celestiaelisia @derangedcupcake @lindszeppelin @ohportgas @loganharpervo

[jessiewre]

Day 16

Mon 20th Jan 2020 (thats the date 20.01.20 weird init)

Woke up at 6am to hear a mosquito buzzing around my ear and flipped the light on like a ninja. The little punk was squished within 5 mins.

Now that’s the kind of adventures I’m after. Not a LIVE volcano.

Breakfast wasn’t quite ready as we were early, so we wolfed down some bananas and weird tasting coffee that was accidentally mixed with African milky tea and we found bodas to the Grande Barrie (Rwanda/Congo border). That was after was tried to ACCIDENTALLY leave the hotel without paying for one of the nights.

The border building was modern with ok toilets (but of course I dropped the WHOLE toilet roll on the wet floor fml)) and we headed to the tourist office who helped fast track us through. We were sat there looking at each other like WHAT ARE WE DOING. Going into the Democratic Republic of CONGO, climbing an active volcano and sleeping on the crater edge and paying for the experience? THIS IS CRAZY. But I suppose that’s the fun of it?

AM I RIGHT OR AM I RIGHT??

A safari type vehicle was waiting for us and we were driven through Goma to the start of the trek, stopping off the wash our hands at an Ebola check point. The seats were raised so it felt like we were sort of paraded through the town - the locals enjoyed the spectacle.

We pulled into the trek start point (I can confirm that the toilet there is not one I recommend really having to try and aim while you pee) and still saw no signs of other muzungus who might be joining us. We really hoped for a decent group but its such a roulette. Could be some right bores in there you never know.

A vehicle pulled up and a French brother and sister - Fleur & Simon - got out, with Fleur’s Belgium husband Toma & Argentinian Martin. Fleur worked for Unicef and Toma was a photographer and they met in Haiti but currently lived in Congo’s capital Kishasa (!). Simon was visiting her from Paris and worked in a bookshop and ran his own magazine. Martin worked in Nairobi for the Argentinian embassy.

Basically we had a great group, really interesting, good fun and chilled out at the same time. PHEW.

The trek was pretty hard but we had a lot of stops and the guides were so good, constantly reiterating that there was no rush and we could stop whenever we wanted for as long as we wanted.

Which was great for ME in particular...

See, when we sat down for lunch at our 3rd stop, I was fine but I was also STARVING. So I wolfed down my sandwich and fruit juice with more enthusiasm than a kid at a Pizza Hut buffet.

Then the section to climb straight after lunch was SO steep, such hard work, that I suddenly felt kinda sick. I had to take a few mini breaks and Phil poured water on my face rather dramatically, then I yawned a few times and in his panic mode he was like WHY ARE YOU YAWNING SO MUCH and I was like Cos I want to yawn mate. The chef Jean-Louie was so nice, reassuring us that there was no stress and we could take breaks as much as we needed. Ok sure by ‘we’ I mean ‘I’.

I managed to make it to the next proper break point ok but was craaaaving one of our juices. Then I was fiiiiine, I immediately felt better with 5 minutes rest and one of the bargain basement 10% juices they’d provided. Panic over (right Phil?).

One of the guides pointed to the top of the mountain and you could faintly see some shapes along the edge, which were apparently the huts we’d be sleeping in. Honestly they were SO FAR AWAY. I could not compute that we would be able to climb there in just a few hours. It seemed like a ridiculous idea.

But before we knew it, the cabins were in sight and we did the final 30 minutes of climbing watching them get closer and closer.

We finally reached the crater edge and apprehensively went towards it to look over...

I mean, it was absolutely BONKERS. A GIANT crater expanse lay before us, with a glowing lava lake bubbling away to the left and a whole other mini volcano on the right properly going off.

Never seen anything like it.

And hope it don’t ever again.

LOL joking (not joking) but seriously it was insane. So incredible and mesmerising.

We all sat and looked at it for a while, and then Phil remembered - he’d got himself a special little tshirt made hadn’t he.

After becoming obsessed with the idea that we needed to ‘drink an umbongo in the Congo’ he’d tried to find one in loads of supermarkets before we left. At one point he even went out at midnight to visit a 24 hour Asda ffs. With no luck, he’d managed to get a T-shirt made on the DAY that we left the UK - just in time. So wearing his UmBongo T-shirt, we did a little video to share with his triumph of been there, wore the T-shirt.

While we all sat looking at the volcano, I thought I’d I ask the security guard Jonas who was sat with us the question on everybody’s lips:

‘Jonas, can I ask, what time will dinner be?’

I’d assumed that he would know the answer but Jonas then went to ask the chef.

Phil was like ‘Oh Jess that’s so embarrassing, you should not have asked that’ but then everyone piped up like We are SO glad you asked that, we’re starving too.

So HA to Phil, they were buzzin - then Jonas said 6:30pm, which was 2 hours away.

No one was buzzin then.

But suddenly the chef pops out of his kitchen and says, word for word:

‘Jessica’...(yes he said my name only)...’would you like some coffee or tea?’

I looked around at the group, who were all wondering where their invite was, then back at the chef and said

‘Yes...yes I would. Thank you’

Clearly my tactic of pretending to feel ill earlier was REALLY paying off.

Obviously once I was in the kitchen with my milky sugary coffee, I asked if there was enough for the others and thankfully there was or I could have been swiftly isolated by my fellow trekkers, no one needs that when there’s a lava lake nearby - and then everyone had a hot drink in my warm kitchen (yes Mine). 
We started talking about food and I asked about people’s favourite cuisine . Weirdly the two French people said they didn’t like cheese, so I was like ‘I love cheese!’ Cos I’m a normal person. Then the chef turned his head and said:

‘Jessica, would you like some cheese? I have some cheese’

LOLLLLLL

I said ‘Jean Louie, that would be lovely thank you’ and he cut me a massive slice of cheese which OF COURSE I shared with everyone (only after I felt all their eyes on me like daggers, but actually 2 people obviously didn’t want any cos they don’t like cheese, which was an absolute result).

Jean-Louie’s kitchen was a basic arrangement of a simple coal fire and a big wooden box of stuff. He managed to prepare a carrot soup to start, plus rice, vegetation’s and chicken for 7 people. We had requested the Vegetarian food, but this message had not been passed on so there was a piece of chicken for both Phil and I.

Look, I’m really trying not to eat meat, and I’m actually doing very well and hardly ever eat it. But when you’ve trekked up a volcano and you’re starving and someone says ‘No there’s definitely enough, please eat this delicious tasty chicken I’ve cooked especially for you’, well, it would have been rude not to wouldn’t it. And also, I really wanted to eat it.

It was so nice all of us squeezed into this little kitchen cabin, cheers-ing with our carrot soups in mugs, eating as all the light disappeared and you could no longer see what was on your plate. If you’ve even done anything like that, trekking in mountains, camping - you’ll know the vibe I’m talking about. Super snug and satisfying. Was great.

Headed back out to check out the volcano and yep, it was still there. So we all looked at it a bit more while the lava bubbled and cracked and the light show continued.

Despite the hot lava (did I mention there was a lava lake??) it was pretty cold so I called it a day and went back to climb into the warm fleece lining and lovely sleeping bag. Phil didn’t head to bed for another hour as was utterly fascinated by the volcano, which of course I do understand, but I was a bit like Well its not going anywhere and I have like starred at it for 2 hours now and my legs are cold so...ya know.

And just before bed, I thought of the BEST idea ever - wait for this. So, the actual toilet option was a 5 minute walk DOWN the volcano then obviously UP again to return. Nah bruv.

I found an empty water bottle and sent Phil to Jean-Louis to get the bottle cut about 15 cm from the top. And thus I had created the perfect camping toilet. Genius, absolute game changer.

*Also - found out the Fleur has so far contracted Malaria no less than SEVEN TIMES. Wow. But she’d totally fine even after that, good to know I thought!

[whatifwallywas]

Two updates in the same week??? Please don’t get used to this, because I will break your hearts immediately. Thank you everyone who reblogged, you’re making me very happy <3  This is a part 2 of my Ghost AU! Part 1 is here This...became a wild ride for some reason. warning:  ghosts, death, abuse and murder, corpses, horror.

051B A Ghost? “Are you alright?” He sat in the passenger seat, his bag clutched tightly to his chest and his head so low it was practically touching his shoulders. The concerned voice brought him back to the present and he let up the deathgrip he had over his bag, forcing himself to relax just the smallest bit, wincing at the cramp in his neck.  Barry couldn’t remember the last time he felt this uncomfortable. 

“I hate cars.” He definitely didn’t whine which caused his companion to snort in laughter.

“How else did you plan to get all the way to Blue Valley?” Iris asked from the driver’s seat, sending him an amused glance. “Uh…” superspeed, he DEFINITELY didn’t say. “I think I don’t get as carsick if I’m the one driving.” He explained instead and she hummed in understanding. “Well, you’ll have to forgive me for not trusting a stranger with my car.” She joked and he cracked a smile. They have known each other for maybe 4 hours now, 1.5 of which they spent in the car together. Barry’s plan was to find Wally’s favourite aunt, speak with her and maybe try and convince her to meet him at Wally’s house the following week. He did not account for her to be just as bullheaded as her nephew, sit him down right then and there in the cafe, interrogate the hell out of him before stating she’s going to the house right away. He was more than a little intimidated by this fierce woman who was bold enough to invite a stranger into her car and take a two hour drive into an abandoned house in the middle of a tiny town on a Tuesday evening.

He had Hal on speed dial in case he needed to and he did see her send plenty of messages to someone, making sure people knew where she was going and when she should be back. Regardless of the weird circumstances, they were getting along surprisingly well and Barry would lie if he said he didn’t absolutely enjoy her company. She was funny and determined and she was willing to listen even though his story sounded very improbable. He assumed it meant she was good at her job as a journalist. Believing someone when they say they met your nephew’s ghost deserves a medal. Their conversation has slowly lulled into a comfortable silence a short while ago. Well, comfortable for her. It made Barry realise he was locked inside a tiny metal cage of death that he had no control over and why did people have cars anyways if trains were so much bigger anyway and better for the environment, what was America thinking and-

“Have you ever managed to contact Wally’s parents?” He asked out loud before he could stop himself. Iris glanced at him in surprise at the out-of-the-blue question before focusing on the road once more. She carefully considered the answer. “Rudolph has called me a little while after Wally went...missing.” She hesitated. “He said they are moving houses and changing their phone numbers. I had to really fight for any information concerning Wally but I assumed that was grief talking. I have not heard from my brother since though I did manage to contact Mary once. She seemed absolutely distressed after hearing my voice and hung up.” Iris has single handedly tried to find her little nephew for over a year now with no success. Rudolph and Mary disappeared and Wally’s case seemed to be swept under the rug. “I always knew there was something more to what happened, but...Wally was my nephew and after learning he’s gone I…” She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, taking a deep breath. Barry looked at her for a long moment. “I know it won’t change anything but...I’m sorry for what happened.” He said finally. She nodded.

___

The street looked deserted, which was terribly weird for a suburban neighbourhood around 3 o’clock in the evening. The air was heavy and the only sound he could hear other than the sharp crack of the car doors being closed by Iris was the howl of the nearby forest and the distant call of a crow.

There wasn’t a single living soul around, Barry thought in bemusement.

The house was just as big and intimidating as when he has left it two weeks ago after finally moving back to his apartment in Central. Yet, when he saw the curtain in the living room rustle he felt a rush of affection as he remembered why he was here. He wanted Wally free from the house.

Iris stood by him, taking in property with a frown on her face. Glanced at Barry and gestured for him to open the door. He walked the three creaky porch steps and slowly turned the key in the lock. They opened with a whine right into a dim hallway.

Inside was empty. Inside was still. Inside was dead.

He slowly walked in and heard his new companion follow. She looked devastated. “This used to be such a warm place.” She murmured, standing in the middle of the corridor and glancing first through the entrance to the kitchen, then towards the living room. She frowned in confusion at the color of the walls in the kitchen “They used to be blue.” she commented but didn’t elaborate further. Then, she looked at him expectantly and he cleared his throat.

“Okay, buddy.” Barry called into the house. “It’s safe to come out.” He promised.

And at first nothing changed. Everything was quiet except for the sound of an old house shifting. And then he heard Iris’s sharp inhale. He wasn’t sure she was breathing beforehand. There was a shimmer at the top of the stairs. It was like looking at the gas escaping from the stove, the air just slightly distorted but the longer he focused on the spot, the more detailed the shape became. Wally was keeping a firm hold on the banister, his wide, scared eyes focused solely on his aunt as he took a hesitant step forward.

Iris wasn’t blinking. After a second or two, her mouth formed a shaky smile as she slowly got to one knee and opened up her arms. “Hi, kiddo.” She called out gently, her eyes suspiciously wet. Wally took one shaky step, then another, and then there was a gust of wind coming from upstairs as he swept down right into her waiting arms. She held him close and let a couple of tears escape as she ran her fingers through his nearly tangible hair.

A noise sounded through the house, as if the entire place was whispering in a thousand voices and Barry recognised it as Wally’s attempt to speak. “...I missed you to.” Iris answered and the blonde found himself smiling as well.

It was a good family reunion.

___

Wally pointed them towards the basement. The dark void at the bottom of the stairs seemed stifling, its black maw ready to swallow them whole and it made both of them hesitate. The kid was clearly terrified because he disappeared as soon as the doors were opened. Barry could hear his sobs coming from inside. He glanced at Iris out of the corner of his eye and saw her bracing herself before she took a deep breath and took the first step forward.

Barry was glad he wasn’t counting the steps down because he could have sworn it took three times longer to get to the bottom than it should have.

It was just as he remembered it. It was stifling and dim, the single light bulb not providing enough light to chase the shadows in the corners away. He brought the flashlight up only to come face-to-face with Wally’s blank, terrified gaze and almost dropped it in fright.

“Wally?” Iris asked while he tried to get his frantic heart to slow down at least a little bit, but her question fell to deaf ears as the panicking kid dissolved into smoke. Then she furrowed her brows and looked deeply into the darkness of the basement. She walked over to him and reached her hand out for the flashlight, which he handed over without question. Shining around the basement her frown only deepend.

“It used to be bigger.” She said finally and Barry couldn’t help but blink. “Wh-” But she ignored him, walking around, looking at walls.

He remembered the first time he was here and thinking that the bricks looked off somehow. Now he understood. “This wall is a different color from the rest.” He murmured, causing her to first focus on him and then on the wall he was gesturing at. She let out a breath and it came out foggy. The room was cold.

As they neared the wall, the lightbulb began flickering, covering the room in total darkness every couple of seconds. The temperature dropped even more. Barry felt the hair at the back of his neck stand on ends as if they were being watched. He heard a sniffle, then a whine. Out of the corner of his eye he could see him. Wally stood right under the flickering light, eyes big, shoulders shaking. Bugs seemed to crawl from under him and away, as far away as they could, some trying their luck by going up the stairs and towards the kitchen. Wally was scared. Wally was crying. He pointed a shaky finger at them, past them, at the wall. Barry turned his back towards the bricks again.

“Here.” ___

They found an old toolbox on one of the shelves and got to work. They grabbed a screwdriver each and started chipping away at the mortar around one of the bricks, hoping to get it loose. If Iris wasn’t there, Barry would have done a quick job of it, using his super speed to crumble the wall in a couple of punches, but for now he was fine taking it slow. He was honestly dreading what they will find on the other side of the wall.

The basement was icy cold and he found himself fighting off attacks of anxiety that didn’t feel like his own but were overtaking his mind at times. He could hear something scratching on walls, something banging on the doors to the basement, he could hear Wally crying at the bottom of the stairs, sometimes comprehensible enough that it almost sounded like words and pleas of let me out please i will be good please it’s so dark, let. me. out!

They suddenly broke through the layer of mortar, making a tiny hole through the wall. That’s when the smell escaped through it. The stench hitting them like a freight train had Iris immediately covering her mouth and retching and Barry recoiling back. After working in forensic science for as long as he had, there was no doubt in his mind as of what it was. The smell of death was defeating.

He grimaced, pullet his t-shirt over his nose and continued on, breaking away the first brick and Iris joined him soon after, hiding the lower part of her face behind her jacket, her eyes watering from the reek. He didn’t know how much time they spent there, but they eventually managed to get two bricks out and after that, he tore a bigger piece of wall with his hands. They waited in silence for the dust to settle.

“Oh.” Iris whispered at the sight. “Oh, Wally.”

Curled up inside an indentation in the wall was a small, broken body of a child. Arms and legs were pushed in at unnatural angles, the hole too small to fit the body properly. Its skin was almost grey, stretched thin over the broken bones. It had a faded, red Flash shirt, light blue jeans stained with dried blood, and small white shoes.

In moments like these, Barry wished he never became a forensic scientist.

Because the bricks had scratch marks on them from the inside and the kid’s...Wally’s...fingers were bloody and the nails were broken. He had been walled in alive. “Let’s call the police.” Was what he said instead before taking three big steps away from the wall. He saw Wally looking past them at the hole before the boy disappeared upstairs. ___

The Police remembered him from when he went asking about Wally a few months back and were honestly confused about how to proceed with this. The house was still technically his - for another two weeks- and he had every right to go digging in the walls. They let them go after taking their statements and contact information.

The search for Rudolph and Mary West began anew and Barry and Iris came back to Central City before going their separate ways. Using his super speed after an entire day of holding back let him feel like he had at least some control as he quickly showered, went on patrol, showered again, and sat in his living room to eat. He leant back heavily against his sofa cushions and pondered calling Hal, when his entire coffee table rattled. He frowned in worry. “You alright, kiddo?” He asked gently, and winced when a lamp was suddenly swept from the cabinet. The only reason it didn’t smash into a million pieces was because it was stopped by the too short cable and instead was left hanging a few inches away from the ground. After the outburst everything suddenly quieted down and the room dropped a few degrees. “I’m not mad about the lamp.” The blonde was quick to reassure. “And you have every right to be upset right now.” He shifted from the couch to the carpet, pulled one leg to his chest and rested both his arms on his knee. He sighed into the crook of his elbow. “I’m sorry you had to see it today. It couldn’t have been easy. Iris and I thought you were very brave.” The stifling air didn’t let up and he nodded his head. “You can stay here as long as you’d like.”

After what felt like hours, he felt Wally move closer. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the lense that Hal left him a long while ago. It was a piece of the kitchen window he took when Barry had been kidnapped. The speedster had taken the tape off once he was out of the hospital and smoothed the sharp edges out before putting new tape on it. It was now more round and safe to touch and it allowed him to see Wally even outside the kid’s old house. Said kid was laying on the other side of the coffee table, curled up on the carpet and facing away from him. He was trembling. “Aw, kid.” He murmured before moving closer. It seemed like being away from his house was causing him physical pain, but the small redhead really didn’t want to be locked inside it alone and sometimes followed Barry to his apartment. It was one of the reasons Barry wanted to solve the case. He was hoping Wally would find some peace in justice and maybe be able to move on, or at least be free from the house he was tormented by and move in with the speedster permanently, but for months the kid refused to help him find any clues concerning his disappearance. Until a couple of day ago when he desperately led Barry to his aunt Iris and then the two of them to his corpse. However, instead of finding peace like Barry had hoped, it seemed to cause him even more distress.

He carefully put his hand on the other’s shoulder and winced at the sensation. It was like holding an icicle in his hand, thousand tiny needles biting into the skin, but considerably more painful. Then he felt the kid relax and the pain melted away into a regular chill. “It’s all going to work out soon.” He reassured, hoping he was right. ___ Finding Rudolph was surprisingly easy once the Police had a reason to go looking. Apparently, once questioned he quickly confessed to the murder of his 8 year old son and stuffing his still-breathing body in the wall. Seeing the man in detention however...did not go as planned. Iris was allowed one visit and she asked Barry if he would be willing to join her to which he agreed. Rudolph was a big man with brown hair and dark eyes. He looked...troubled. There were bags under his eyes and every couple of seconds he would glance this way and that in paranoia. When he finally focused on his sister and her companion, he scowled. Then his gaze went past Barry, right where the speedster knew Wally was standing. The man’s wild, bloodshot eyes widened. Then he started yelling. “Why the hell are you here, haven’t I told you to leave!!!” He demanded, slamming his hands on the table he was cuffed to. “Haven’t you done enough!!!” He spat.

Barry could feel Wally taking a couple of steps back. “It’s all your fault! Everything that happened! All your fault! They won’t leave us alone!” The light above his head started flickering and Iris turned her head questionably towards Barry. He in turn glanced back even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to see the kid without his glass lense. This didn’t feel right. This didn’t feel like Wally’s doing. His breath came out in a puff. The temperature dropped as Rudolph rage and fear grew. He sounded manic, as he rambled looking from side to side. “They found me again. There is no escape.” He mumbled, grabbing at his hair and pulling painfully. “Rudolph, who found you?” Iris probbed and he focused on her. He clenched his hands into fists, ripping tuffs from his scalp in the process. “Ever since I put that brat in his place. Finally shut him up. They showed up. They don’t want to leave. Moving houses didn’t work, they always follow. Stupid, useless brat, goddamn-” He bit back and Iris had trouble recognising him anymore. She wasn’t sure how much of her brother was left. “Who are they?” She asked and he focused on a point right above her head and started shaking even more. The coffee cup on the table across the room smashed against the wall and the radio went crazy. One of the lights burst plunging the room in grotesque shadows. The darkness seemed to be moving. The two officers present attempted to calm Rudolph down to no avail and they soon removed him from the room, the shadows calming but following after. Like a pack of wolfs after a wounded deer. “This keeps happening every so often.” Another officer explained later. “Mr. West’s lawyer tried to pledge insanity but the man immediately confessed to the murder. He didn’t seem that much bothered by it but the guilt must be eating him alive seeing the way he’s behaving.” She mused, and Barry felt his stomach twist at the words. He didn’t think it was guilt that was eating Rudolph alive.

___

His concerns only grew when him and Hal finally managed to hunt down Zatara and invite him over.

The magician had walked in the apartment and immediately zeroed in on the place on the carpet that Wally liked to sit in most. “Would the two of you mind giving us some privacy?” He asked and the two superheroes found themselves waiting in the bedroom, drinking coffee, Hal on the bed and Barry on the windowsill, looking at the building across the street. They didn’t comment when all lights suddenly went out or when the slight wind picked up even though all windows were closed. Barry strained his ears to listen to the conversation on the other side of the doors but other than Zatara’s gentle tones and Wally changing the radio stations there was nothing to pick up. When the magician finally called them back in, they could see him sitting on the couch with a deep frown on his face, next to the most tangible Wally they have ever seen.

The kid was fully visible but still pretty see-through and was sitting on the couch with his legs drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them for comfort. He glanced up when he saw them enter and wiped his face with a sleeve of his shirt.

“A little spell to help us communicate better.” Zatara explained before sighing deeply. “We...might be in a predicament.” He said finally.

Barry sat down right next to the small redhead and put his arm around him. He could feel the smallest amount of pressure and did not phase all the way through. He felt the kid lean a bit closer and he smiled gently, before focusing on Zatara once more. He nodded his head. “Fill us in.” ___ “...That’s a pickle.” “...Thank you Hal for summing it up so well.” Barry rolled his eyes at his friend’s shrug before rubbing his hand through his hair. Rudolph West was a cruel cruel man. After years of neglecting and abusing his son, he has walked past the point of no return. His 8 year old son died alone, forgotten and broken in a basement with no one there to hear his cries.

Zatara said that some humans who are willing to terrible things with no remorse open doors that should never be opened.

The moment a terryffied, hurt, 8 year old let out his last dying breath, his soul left his body and got stuck on earth as a spirit. At the same moment, something else has also crawled out from a little hole in the wall in Blue Valley’s basement. And latched itself onto the nastiest thing it could find and fed from it.

Rudolph West was haunted not by the tormented ghost of his son, but by the evil spirits that came crawling after they smelled how rotten the man’s soul was.

“Karma is a bitch.” Hal shrugged, before finishing his coffee. “Wanna grab lunch?” The unimpressed glances he got from all 3 of the people present had him rolling his eyes. “An asshole got what was coming for him.” He glanced at the unhappy translucent child in the room. “Wally’s ‘tormented soul’ is saved, good job us.”

“Young Wallace has done all he could for you to contact his aunt and find his body because he felt the spirits tormenting Mr West growing stronger.” Zatara explained with a frown, turning towards Barry again. “Having those creatures running free is dangerous.” Barry sighed, rubbing his hand soothingly on the kid’s back. “You were just trying to be a good person and help. Even if that person deserves it the least.” He saw Hal blink in surprise before crossing his arms but Barry just smiled. “I’m proud of you kiddo, you’re thinking like a real hero.” Wally ducked his head and shrugged. He sent a discreet worried glance at Hal and frowned. The man didn’t stand a chance. “...Okay, fine. Let’s save the asshole” The brunette whined, before putting his hands on his hips. “So, what magical ingredients, sacred weapons and/or mystical books do we need to find to get this done?” Zatara blinked at the hero before standing up and re-adjusting his bowtie. “I believe I already have all we will need.” ___ “This was anticlimactic.” Zatara indeed had all of the ingredients needed for the exorcism. They all went to Wally’s old house, past the police tape down to the basement and stood by and watched while the magician drew circles on the floor. Then it was a matter of a spell, many flashing lights and breaking glass, watching the horrifying demons with blood for eyes get sucked into a giant gaping chasm in the ground before it was sealed forever and that was that. Rudolph West should be safe and sound inside his cell, rotting away in prison this time without spirits sucking away at his soul. Cool.

Hal kicked a rock and it bounced a couple of times before rolling to a stop in front of a wall with...a hole in it...He found himself remembering what Barry told him about finding Wally’s corpse and swallowed a bile in his throat. Then he furrowed his brows in thought and turned towards the still very present redhead. The kid looked...relieved. He stood there besides Barry, staring at the place where his body has been and it seemed the weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Hal also couldn’t help but notice he was still...there. Didn’t seem too keen on moving towards other, better things. Like...the afterlife or whatever. He must have noticed the man staring, because he glanced toward him questioningly. Before being distracted by a hand falling on his head and ruffling his hair. Or, as much as one could try ruffling something nearly intangible. “Good job, kid.” Barry praised and the boy grinned at him. The bulb above their heads shone brighter for a couple of seconds before dimming again. The basement didn’t seem nearly so stifling and dead anymore. It felt like a regular, dusty, forgotten pantry. They all slowly walked up the steps, and left the place behind. Wally’s form didn’t waver as he stepped through the threshold. He was free. ___

“Hi, bud, whatcha doing here?” Green Lantern asked with a laugh as something white and blue zipped around him on the rooftop. Then he grinned at the red blur that followed. “For what do I owe the pleasure?” He clapped his best friend’s shoulder once he finally stopped beside him. “We decided to go for a run.” The Flash explained, taking in the night view of Coast City. “Also wanted to stop by and see you before you go to with Supes for the space mission.” Wally finally zipped back and stood on his other side, looking around with a wide smile on his face. He turned to Hal questioningly. “Shouldn’t take longer than two weeks.” The other replied, knowing the kid well enough by now to know his little non-verbal tells. He ruffled the boy’s hair and even almost felt it. “Don’t get in too much trouble when I’m gone. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He said after a second and the kid smiled even wider, nodding towards Barry. “Of course I was talking to him, I know you can behave yourself.” He laughed and then yelped when he was smacked upside the head by the speedster. “Not fair.” “Dork” the blonde replied, before shaking his head. “Alright, the break is over. I promised Iris to have Wally back by 10 and we still have 4 states to see on the way.”

They bid their goodbyes, promised to look over his city while he was gone, and then they were off again. Hal couldn’t help but grin after them.

What a crazy year it has been.

[nothisis-ridiculous]

A Most Unholy Inquisitor Ch. 30

Another Inquisitor Trevelyan Story.

With none of Andraste’s knickers!

Featuring Guinevere Trevelyan, and The Gang.

The Inquisitor stumbled passed the throne, her heavily lidded eyes and cocked mouth alluding to her condition. Sheer nightgown kept from fluttering away by the tight folding of her arms. Hair dry, but uncombed. The slightest hint of makeup left behind in a hurried attempt to wash it away. The Herald had other matters more pressing than a refined appearance. She strode with a slow and steady determination. A left turn took loosely, and pace unfaltering as she marched through the chambers Solas inhabited throughout all hours of the day and night. No heed given to the elf or the biting cold of the wind that threatened to rip through her excuse for a cover. The Commander's door thrown open unceremoniously. "Guinevere," the man only taking a microsecond to recover from being startled, "I wasn't expecting- not that, Maker's Breathe aren't you cold?" The parenting Commander neglecting the papers he had been so diligently reading to attend to his Herald, quickly gathering her into his arms. Still dressed so casually as he had been just hours ago, "the one time you need to honestly burrow my surcoat, and it's-" he fretted on in little more than a mumble. With a heavy sigh, his nose settled into her hair, "it was foolish not to stay. Forgive me." He couldn't have expected the cold steel that pressed into his spine.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ The Knight-Commander of the Templar Order was not sure that the Herald of Andraste was quite herself. He had felt something thick, and slightly sweet build in his throat before she had even come through the door that leads to her private quarters. His attention being called to her, before he was aware that a figure would be exiting those chambers. It never beckoned something favorable, and the slow build of molasses did not coalesce until the mage had passed him. The servant that trailed her already crossing his path. "Inquisitor, I-" Far be it for him to pay attention to any of the gossips that galloped around Skyhold, but there had been many whispers about her many adventures during the night. And not the kind that had her scurrying away from the Commander to avoid embarrassment. That was quite well known and accepted; the sleepwalking was still a matter of debate.   His plea was ignored, and the servant gave a soft shrug. She was motioning after the moving mage, afraid that not keeping up might end in trouble. Barris let it sit for a minute before the tugging at his gut became unbearable. Even if it ended awkwardly, he felt bound to see this through. It took the next door to find another that was mildly perturbed by the persons passing through his space. "Is she just sleepwalking?" he asked in hushed tones, embarrassed to be bringing up a sensitive matter before one of her inner circle. But perhaps here this could end. The elf eyed him with scrutiny, pausing on an answer, "the Inquisitor has never made it this far." "A tryst?" gulping down the words. The man laughed, "the Inquisitor likes to retain the appearance of secret meetings." This conversation had cleared up absolutely nothing for Barris, and to top it all he was blushing. Still, he felt urged to follow after her, even after he now tried to fight his programming. She was a mage, but he didn't want to continue this line simply because of that fact. Something else had him worried, had him unable to let this string of madness go. "This feels off," he stated, soothing his reasoning. "She does usually wake before long," but even with his previously jovial words, the elf was not relaxed, "but something is amiss, a tune out of place." Barris' mind had not let that connection form, mostly out of pushing it out as a possibility. It called to him, or something in the Inquisitor's state did. Like the scent of fresh bread from the kitchens, or the lyrium on the breath of a compatriots words. It couldn't be utterly categorized like something was added to mask the usual flow — a door set where there should be a window. A third, and a trailing half joined with them in the circular room, golden eyes sweeping over the men, "seems we are all up at odd hours this evening." The conference convened much more rapidly than it had started, as the Herald's name was cried loudly from outside the main hall. Barris with a slight head start pushed roughly past the servant, taking in the scene, and subsequent shocked allowed the rest to albeit hindered, assess the situation themselves. ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ The Herald radiated blue, then flashed in bright green. Soon the two colors battling overdominance, the small office clashing in the war of colors. The bright blue was blinding, and the cooler green was giving only seconds of sight before the blinding light returned. In frames each party watched as the mage struggled to stay on her feet, both hands dripping blood and tendrils of energy. The Commander was immobilized, a blood cover dagger pointed with half faith in the direction of the mage. It dropped once he saw he was no longer alone, and vaulted the desk trajectory aimed for the figure pulsing in bright colors. Another one colliding the Herald between them, the male and female grunts coming at the same time. "Cullen, you must suppress her!" an Orlesian voice growled beneath a clenched jaw. "I couldn't, Maker's Breathe, she'd." "Now is not the time to be romantic! She'll kill us!" "Forgive me," he whispered. With the lights fading, the Knight Commander could add his strength to the Commanders. The five focused people in the room took stock of the situation. Leliana barking questions at Morrigan and Solas, after finding out that Cullen's complete attention was focused on the mage. Barris looked at the dagger and the blood that generously coated the floor. It seemed for now that the injuries were limited to the Inquisitor with some nasty wet gouges covering both palms, and some contact burns on the Commander and Spymaster. The one positive he could glean was that the thick molasses-like lump in his throat had left, leaving his head clearer. "Sister Lelianna!" Barris's notice turned the entire party to the rip of green that sputtered, then disappeared above the kneeling Inquisitor. "We need to get her out of here before she opens a rift inside the Commander's office," Solas advised, the slight uptick in his usually even tone a heeded warning cry. "The prisons, they are empty, the second section is large enough if we need to-" Cullen interrupted the Spymaster, "Now we're imprisoning her?" The momentary slip of his attention resulting in a hot blast of blue, traveling up the arm attached to the hand he wasn't aware he had placed on Guinevere's shoulder. "Unless you can tell us exactly what is happening, and that she will stop," Morrigan interfered, ignored the glare from Lady Nightingale. Cullen's shoulders slumped, "we must hurry." ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ Leliana watched in awe over the rift that threatened to swallow the entire basement portion of the dungeon. She had better things to attend to at this moment, but she was drawn to the black spires not at all distant from the tear unwillingly created by the Inquisitor. Pieces of a then light conversation with Solas had hinted she could open a rift, but that was all left at a theoretical standpoint, returned to her. Causing a chocked laugh to escape from her lips. Fortunately, the only one to catch her faux pas was Solas. Who issued in return a sly smile, before his attention returned to the Herald. "You must focus, you've cleared dozens of rifts this one is no different," he faltered, unsure for once, before his eyes returned to the rift. Drawn in by the black city before him, his intention divided between the person with the anchor and the massive rift right within his easy reach. The mage sobbed loudly, her inability to focus looked like unwillingness, she noted with a tinge of unease. The Commander was not fairing much better, the guilt very visibly building as he prepared to focus his energies on his lyrium addled lover once again. Any attempts he made at soothing her went unnoticed, and now bordered on dangerous as her mana flared again — the current in the air building to visible result. "On the count of three," Morrigan began again, unwilling to let much more time pass between another attempt. "One." Guinevere shrank, and the static in the air sharply declined. "Two." The rift pulsed, sucking into itself. The newly appointed Knight Commander gritted his teeth, sweat glistening his brow. "Three!" Solas yanked Guinevere's arm forward, holding her wavering hand steady as it strained against the green energy that issued forth. A wretched scream echoing through the chambers, the blue aura bursting back to life submerging the chamber in azure light. The window pinched, edges straining against the force that threatened to close the gap. The second scream precluded the rift returning to its previous size. The mage's mouth and nose bled. "We must stop this!" Cullen cried taking the stiff mage into his arms, lips pressing against the crux of her skull. His words turned to gentle whispers, pleading with the Inquisitor. "And leave the rift open?" Lelianna charged, "Endanger everyone at Skyhold?" "It isn't working! Perhaps," Cullen's words stuck, "perhaps she can't close it. Should we kill her on a whim?" "Commander- we can send for another templar to take your place." "Andrasta preserve me," he swore gently, "Guinevere please, you must try." "One." This was starting, the blue light that bathed the cavern faded. The Herald struggled a streak of red running from her eye in her torment. Her body shook violently. "Two." Barris' sweat ran in streaks, Morrigan and Solas's energy ready to focus on the Inquisitor.  The rift fought against the draining power, sputtering angrily at the ones attempting to curtail it. "Three!" Solas raised her arm tenderly, this time, pooling another wave of mana through the contact. The blue light had not exploded out this time, but funneled into her mark in a focused beam of energy.  Pulling shut the rift in an instant, free of the usual loud crash as the door was slammed shut. It was disappointing. Undiscussed, but necessarily, the Herald was disposed of with a quick pinch of nerves. A set of fierce, and protective amber eyes met her own. A strong grip held her wrist, intent on snapping the offending limb, "Cullen, you need to leave." "No." "Commander, you are relieved." His jaw set, the pressure around her wrist flared taking all of her poise to not yelp. The Commander could easily break it, of that she had no doubt. It wasn't a matter of him seriously injuring her, but of him causing the whole Inquisition to slow with an injured Spymaster. Not to mention his retroactive guilt- few in this room were acting in their regular manners. Expecting the fussy Commander to leave his hurting lover easily was difficult under ideal circumstances. After this tragedy; it could be almost impossible. "Cullen, please, I can watch her for you," counseled Cassandra, a face she did not remember entering the dungeon, but one she welcomed, "get some rest, it's already been a long night." Pinned between two women, and the stares of everyone else in the chamber the man released his grip with a growl. Storming his way out of the dungeon, with a single look back to his heart that he had left behind on the floor. "Can someone please explain what is happening?" Cassandra begged the lethargy in her voice pronounced, after forcing her commanding tone. "It seems like an event similar to meeting the Herald are repeating," the Nevarran looked at her with a little exasperation, "I can't be sure."

[ballandcone]

I’m absolutely enamored with your work, the emotion it elicits I can’t put to words, but I wish I could. Is it weird if I ask what the inspiration behind it is? I never seen something quite so unique and inexplicable and I’d love to know more about it

Thank-you!!

Here, from a few years ago, is an interview that Claire Donner of the excellent donnerpartyofone tumblr conducted with me via email:

Q: People seem to like origin stories. What is the origin of Ball and Cone?

In the fall of 1976 while in grad school, I made my first oil painting, a dreamy image of a small brick house with a tall cone standing just outside the open front door and, visible through a window, a blue ball in on corner of the warmly lit interior. (Neither object had eyes or feet.) In retrospect, I think it was about my anxiety over having gotten married just a few months earlier; I wasn’t quite all in psychologically. The following spring, I gave the painting to my best friend from high school Dell Trecartin and his bride Cathy as a wedding present. For many years, it resided in their basement rec room in Ohio, an enduring presence for their two sons, one of whom grew up to become the famous video and performance artist Ryan Trecartin. Years later, Ryan told me that the painting had fascinated him when he was little and that it influenced him more than any other artwork he knew of. After he finished art school, he appropriated it and took it with him to the various cities he lived and worked in with his entourage of collaborators and hangers on. And it came to pass that on arriving in Philadelphia some years later that it was stolen from the roof of his car, to which it had been tied. A tragic loss. After that I thought that I should make a new version of the painting. A few months ago I made a small drawing inspired by its memory.  I made the ball and cone more explicitly anthropomorphic than they were in the original painting. That was “Ball and Cone 1,” in which Cone looks in through a window at Ball, who is sitting on the floor looking sleepy and bored.

Q: The floor of what? It seems like the adventures of Ball and Cone always take place either inside an unfurnished architectural space or in plain air, but you almost never see the outsides of the buildings, or what sort of larger environment they are in.

A: What almost always seems to be going on has to do with relationships between inside and outside. When Ball and Cone are inside, they are looking out or in a process of going out. Their shadowy doppelgangers often are looking in at them. Crossing over the boundary between one state and the other is a recurring drama in Ball and Cone. Apropos of this, my mother sent me this bit about a psychological phenomenon called “the event boundary” (I forget where she got it from):

“Ever walk into a room with some purpose in mind, only to completely forget what that purpose was?

Turns out, doors themselves are to blame for these strange memory lapses.

Psychologists at the University of Notre Dame have discovered that passing through a doorway triggers what’s known as an event boundary in the mind, separating one set of thoughts and memories from the next.

Your brain files away the thoughts you had in the previous room and prepares a blank slate for the new locale. Thank goodness for studies like this. It’s not our age, it’s that stupid door!”

Q: Speaking of states of mind, it is remarkable how much emotion you seem to get out of characters whose only expressive faculty is a single eyeball. I have a theory that when the reader takes in the on-panel circumstances, they project their own feelings back on to Ball and Cone - but maybe that’s not giving credit due to your bold, stark cartoons. What is your secret?

A: Somehow the mind/brain system has a way of enriching what enters consciousness through your optical equipment and through your other senses. This is happening all the time whether you’re looking at “real” things in the world or images on a flat surface.  The excitement of comics is in the way the mind fills in a relatively meager sensory input to create experiences of extraordinary emotional, cognitive and imaginative depth and breadth. I like to play with how little is needed to make that happen.  One of the not-so-secret secrets of Ball and Cone is that they are like children in a perplexing, sometimes scary, sometimes fun world. I guess that’s something everyone has lots of feelings about. I know I do.

Q: This makes a lot of sense to me, because I often unconsciously superimpose the idea of “rods and cones” over Ball and Cone. Maybe this is also because their entire faces are composed of a single eyeball. It is interesting that their adventures are so emotionally charged, since the presence of threat is felt, but the nature of the threat is unclear. For instance, you have an episode in which Ball and Cone are actually murdered, but it doesn’t wind up being a big problem for them. Similarly, there’s a sense of intimacy between Ball and Cone, but it isn’t any clearer than the basic idea of a companionship; they could be siblings or romantic partners or in a parental relationship, but they’re not telling. Do you deliberately exploit this kind of vaguery for its emotional potential, or is the writing part of Ball and Cone more of a free association process?

A: Nothing I do with Ball and cone is conceptually premeditated in the way my answers here might suggest. I work out of some combination of image and feeling. What I’m trying to do most deliberately is making something funny. They’re not called “comics” for nothing.

That said, the comic is, for me, a kind of philosophical playground. It seems I tend to think in terms of universal sorts of relationships and situations. That’s why the comic is so abstract.  So companionship seems to me a kind of relationship that any two people can be in together. At first I thought that Ball and Cone’s relationship might be sexual, but then it seemed that would over-determine certain types of situations and events. It would be more about the relationship between them than about their relationship as friends to the situations that befall them and the actions they undertake. For Ball and Cone as traveling companions the possibilities seem more open-ended.

The experiences they undergo also are universal: being inside and outside; going from one place to another; watching and being watched; following and being followed; being bored, being excited; feeling safe and feeling scared; being trapped and escaping entrapment, and so on. The things that they do and that happen to them are things that all people do and experience.

A major theme has to do with being limited. They only have one eye each and they don’t have arms. Real humans would be like gods to them. But real humans are limited, too: why don’t we have eyes in the backs of our heads or four rather than two arms? Being limited is a condition of being. But so is over-coming limitations. Despite their inadequacies, Ball and Cone have some pretty interesting adventures.

Having said all that, it remains a wonder to me that they elicit emotional responses in me and in their readers.

Q: You are not from a comics background in the strictest sense, neither personally nor professionally. How did you decide to convert the concept of an old painting to an ongoing web comic? Are there certain comic artists that have inspired you?

A: When I made the first few drawings last April, I knew there would be more to come, but I had no idea it would become a web comic. A friend insisted that I start posting on tumblr, which I didn’t know much about. The comic format was something I played with back in the late 70s and early 80s. (See image, a pencil and gouache from back then).

I’ve always loved the comic style and the intersection of Pop, Surrealism and Psychedelia. Some favorite artists include John Wesley and Jim Nutt. From the comic world: R. Crumb, Daniel Clowes, Charles Burns and Lynda Barry. Too many others to mention here. And, of course, Krazy Kat.

Q: Indie comix have experienced a huge revival in recent years, but curiously, the most successful creators don’t reflect the hairy, wet aesthetic rebellion of the ‘60s underground, but rather the hygienic, adorable affectations of Japanese consumer imagery. Ball and Cone don’t really look like anything so easily namable as Astro Boy or Hello Kitty, but they are awfully kawaii on their own terms. If it was important in the 1960s to defy or pervert expectations of cuteness from cartoon characters, is it important in some different way to embrace or exploit cuteness now? What are your feelings on cute?

A: Of his time drawing cards for the American Greetings Corporation, R. Crumb recalled, “My boss kept telling me my drawings were too grotesque. I was trained to draw ‘cute’ little neuter characters, which influenced my technique, and even now my work has this cuteness about it.” Crumb seems abashed about the cuteness in his work, but without it I doubt it would be nearly as compelling. I think I would lose interest in Ball and Cone if they weren’t so darn cute. It’s kind of embarrassing, though, a grown man doing these cute little things. What’s that about?

               An interview with a philosopher named Sianne Ngai I came across recently went a long way to helping me understand. She wrote a book called “Our Aesthetic Categories: Zany, Cute, Interesting.” At the start of the interview, she explains, “I’m interested in states of weakness: in “minor” or non-cathartic feelings that index situations of suspended agency; in trivial aesthetic categories grounded in ambivalent or even explicitly contradictory feelings. More specifically, I’m interested in the surprising power these weak affects and aesthetic categories seem to have, in why they’ve become so paradoxically central to late capitalist culture. The book I’m currently completing is on the contemporary significance of three aesthetic categories in particular: the cute, the interesting, and the zany.” I love how seriously Ngai takes these topics and how much she unpacks from them. Here’s more on cuteness: “The asymmetry of power that cuteness revolves around is another compelling reminder of how aesthetic categories register social conflict. There can be no experience of any person or object as cute that does not somehow call up the subject’s sense of power over those who are less powerful. But, as Lori Merish underscores, the fact that the cute object seems capable of making an affective demand on the subject—a demand for care that the subject is culturally as well as biologically compelled to fulfill—is already a sign that “cute” does not just denote a static power differential, but rather a dynamic and complex power struggle.”

              Reading this makes me think that in making cute comics I’m doing something really important. But if I wasn’t feeling rebellious against the idea of importance – preferring the trivial, the silly and the stupid – there wouldn’t be much fun in it. It’s all very paradoxical in my mind when I think about it.

Q: Rebellion against importance sounds like a pretty good agenda. However, you come from a comparatively “important” high culture background, and your ostensibly low brow comic isn’t totally immune to its influence. For instance, the main threat in most of Ball and Cone’s scarier adventures is simply being seen, with multiple panels and story arcs revolving around being pursued, spotted and spied upon; the idea of gazing as an act of aggression is an obsession for lots of fine artists, photographers and filmmakers. Do you sense yourself importing ideas from other disciplines?

A: The ideas animating Ball and Cone that interest me most come less out of art than out of philosophy, in which seeing is a huge topic. The relationship between what we see – or, what we think we see – and what mind-independent reality  might be like has been endlessly pondered by thinkers from Descarte to Derrida and beyond. For Aristotle, a basic feature of human consciousness is a capacity for wonder and a drive to understand, which we satisfy much of the time by looking at the world and, metaphorically, looking inward. Most of the time, it seems to me, Ball and Cone are looking as if they’re just wondering what is going on in any given situation. They just want to understand. The gazes of the black Ball and Cone may seem possibly menacing, but it’s hardly ever clear that they pose any kind of real threat. But the dynamics of looking, seeing and being seen do have to do with power, as the seer usually has, at least momentarily, the advantage over the seen. So there is a certain political dimension that probably relates to voyeurism as a feature of modern life at least as reflected in photography and movies.

              Another kind of seeing involves not optical perception but an ability to “see past”  or “through” surface reality as registered by our senses.  That’s just something that cognitive intelligence does. Sometimes it’s called insight. You “see” some underlying pattern that is invisible to ordinary vision. Often the same thing may be seen in different ways, and seeing something one way may preclude seeing it another way. That’s what the duck-rabbit figure is about, a favorite topic for Wittgenstein. When  seeing from a singular perspective meets an apparently ambiguous reality that seems to change depending on how it is seen: that’s a moment I think I’m always hoping Ball and Cone will encounter, wonder about and try to understand by looking. It’s a moment when the nature of mind comes at least hazily into view.  You have to look in order to see. Then you see your own seeing.

               Then there’s the possibility of being able to see through reality as delivered by our senses to a metaphysical or transcendental reality that has no material being but exists nevertheless in some world-determining way. Nothing I’ve experienced in my life convinces me that such a realm exists, but I’ve always loved the fantasy of it. It’s a fantasy that urges a kind of mental adventuring, because as Hegel writes, whatever might be there to be seen will ever exist only be virtue of someone going there to see it:

“It is manifest that behind the so-called curtain which is supposed to conceal the inner world, there is nothing to be seen unless WE go behind it ourselves, as much in order that we may SEE as that there may be something behind there to be seen.”

I think that’s why windows and windows within windows – as well as doorways and other openings in the fabric of the picture – figure so often in Ball and Cone.

Q: One final question: everyone knows that young artists are probably just going to starve, so do you have any advice for young philosophers?

A: I love philosophy but I’m not a professional philosopher, so I wouldn’t know what kind of career advice to give a young philosopher other than, in the immortal words of Joseph Campbell, “follow your bliss.” The best advice I ever heard from a real philosopher about reading philosophy was from my friend Nick Pappas, a professor at CUNY. I mentioned in an email that I’d been dipping into Hegel and Heidegger and finding their writings strangely repetitious and opaque yet somehow hair-raising. I wrote, “Were those guys on drugs or something? They sound like stoners to me,” to which Nick replied, “H. and H. both have the stoner’s obsessive attention to – well, to everything.  And one thing I try to learn from them but especially from Heidegger and the best Heideggerians who came after him: not to be in a hurry.  Let other writings get to the point.  Philosophy is on its own clock.” I love that. We are obliged to obey hurrying clocks all the time. In art and philosophy, we can enter other, less utilitarian time zones. What, after all, is the rush?

http://ballandcone.tumblr.com/post/62988401247/my-name-is-ken-johnson-and-i-am-the-author-of