Worthy Guest, Worthy Host

  My favorite line from any of my stories. So much so that I don't even remember which of my earlier stories this was from. After a woman kicks a paying lodger out of her house in favor of two transients who just sought shelter for the night, she turns to the two travelers with a fierce determined look in her eyes. And they expect to be kicked out as well. But instead she just takes a deep breath and explains.

"I don't know you any better than I know him. But I know you enough to know that I can trust you. NO ONE insults a friend of mine, in my house." And she gives them the guest room that man previously occupied.

It almost feels like a parable Jesus Christ would have taught, or a similarly themed fable. Which is probably why I wrote the thing at all. And maybe it was just a scene written for its own sake and not part of any story or legacy. But I intend to write it again.

This is a slightly more in-depth description.

A woman opens her home to two travelers literally just seeking shelter for the night. They are weary and tired but not sad or really even lost. They are 'promptly welcomed and immediately ignored' by their apparently indifferent host. A man comes down to table, a paying lodger who is there for the week. The man starts laughing scornfully at the transients who, to quote him 'must not understand the beneficence and compassion of their host or they would be more grateful'.

At which point the woman turns to the gentleman and with restraint but unequivocal force in her voice tells him to leave immediately and never expect to be welcomed by her again. The shock he received realizing a man with both money and position would be dismissed in favor of two transients was matched only by the fear or intimidation on the faces of the travelers themselves.

Cooling her voice a little and relaxing her face a bit she explains. “I don't know you any better than I knew him. But I know you well enough to know that I can trust you. And no one insults a friend of mine in my house.

The next favorite ending line, and hopefully the next story to be summarized is Sasha Jordan Scott saying goodbye to Captain Quentin lance. "Quentin, I'm not sure how to say this but I cannot 'move away' in the strictest sense...I never lived in Starling City to begin with!

French Shakespeare is Fascinating

 I don't know who is enough of a language or theater person to appreciate this. But it's something I found fascinating.

Most film versions of Henry the Fifth, keeps the French dialogue between the French Princess Kathrine and her waiting Gentlewoman. It is noted that 'it's in Shakespeare's dialogue but this is a problem'. The waiting woman, who I will call Margret changes the way she addresses Princess Katherine throughout the conversation. From 'the way an older woman would address a young girl if she wasn't royalty' to 'the proper address for a lady-in waiting to a princess'.

The explanation is in the dialogue itself and because of how French as a language is constructed. If two truths are recognized - that is understood - between yourself and the other person, how you address them is based entirely on which truth is prominent in that moment. She referred to Kate as her student as long as she was teaching her English. As long as she was being an instructor. When she changes to speak to her as her waiting gentlewoman, she addresses Kate as a Princess, because in that moment she was her princess, not her student.

It's the same as if your father is a military general. If you're addressing him as a general you give his rank or call him sir. If your addressing him as an individual, as your father, you call him by his name or call him 'dad'. It's just in French this is universal.

In Memory of All Harrisons

  https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQGNItsj_D2gyvXtg11xzYW4v6OYw2nf_

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQGNItsj_D2i-Zp6YjqCkZCtp0LLM1xT1

These above are the links to my 2 youtube playlists. One of which is full of actual clips from mostly the show supergirl and a few others. The second is pretty much anything superhero-y whether from or OF the CW's Arrow-verse of shows or not.

Here are m y various comments on usually Harrison Wells centered Flash youtube videos and the videos they are comments/responses to.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aEbAAYrcS8A&list=PLQGNItsj_D2i-Zp6YjqCkZCtp0LLM1xT1&index=4

Guys the two people who shot at Harry Wells were the ONLY two people who had already been alerted that Harrison Wells might be alive and walking again. Most people who see Harry, HR and them would think he looks like a man that was in a wheelchair and has been declared dead. Even most cops would be scratching their heads at the 'striking resemblance',

Holt crap this just now hit me: Wells, the Wells we first knew got hassled for being the town Pariah, people were jerks to him. While Harry and HR etc do have to worry about getting arrested if they meet a cop most people on the street don't know "wheelchair Wells" WAS a confessed murderer. That's why Harry walks around at Jitters and such in season four keeping his head down but not really hiding. Well and if he's not screwing people over in the present tense, you kinda have to leave him alone or get escorted out of the place for disorderly conduct. Kinda like if Laurel Lance (cough) or James Olsen don't have a new crime to be accused of.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LLdz5tlJIUM&list=PLQGNItsj_D2i-Zp6YjqCkZCtp0LLM1xT1&index=11&t=143s

Beautiful Synergy (Symmetry?) The first song I've seen here on Eaobard's Wells that presents him as dark and consumed not flat out evil and chaotic. He had an origin story, a history with the flash we know almost nothing about. But however damaged he was...he wasn't evil or recklessly destructive, just driven.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hwPvDvINt9s The Multiverse must have something against every men with Harrison Wells' face.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r7yqwCDYoZs&list=PLQGNItsj_D2i-Zp6YjqCkZCtp0LLM1xT1&index=15 I know this video is of the Earth 2 Harry wells that while havign no social graces whatsoever was ultimately very relatable and a good guy at heart, so this is slightly off topic but the Adventuring-Indiana Jones type that was Harrison 'Nash' Wells is Tom's crowning achievement in my book; the openness and innocence of HR Wells with the brashness and regret of good ole Harry Wells.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0E9Urgf0Kco&list=PLQGNItsj_D2i-Zp6YjqCkZCtp0LLM1xT1&index=16

This one covers the first 3 Wells. With flashbacks to the man they never actually met AND a deleted scene with Thawne Wells talking to Joe at the end of season one. As such: People who complain about Tom Cavanagh 'workshoping his one man show' when  a bunch of different Well's get together to talk don't realize more is being asked of him than of any other actor IN the show. One-timers aside, he plays major players every season that despite being one actor and thus one face are completely different *characters* so convincingly and consistently. Each one shines his own unique light in a profound way. And so does he.

The first Wells video I ever saw that I SO badly, deeply and wholeheartedly agree with. It is re HR Wells a man who died at the end of his season to give Team Flash a better future. Literally it wasn't to beat the bad guy or even to make up for his own screw up. It was so Iris death wouldn't split team-Flash apart...It was to give the people who were a family to him a better future.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nszC9i2cfG0&list=PLQGNItsj_D2i-Zp6YjqCkZCtp0LLM1xT1&index=19

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OLG7NlGypo&list=PLQGNItsj_D2i-Zp6YjqCkZCtp0LLM1xT1&index=14

(continuing other thought) "And in that final moment he gave up his life, not even to prove anything, but so that Barry wouldn't descend into darkness with Iris' death. 'Gone but Not Forgotten' is not an inappropriate word choice."

Ultimately HR Wells was the Ray Palmer of the group. He was their hero the entire year they knew him, not just in his sacrifice. But he was a hero in a different sense of the word than what the audience tends to look for. To quote the ATOM himself "Courage is the mastery of fear; not the absence of it". He was solving the mystery of savitar long before Barry figured it out.

Not my words but EXACTLY my thoughts:

Whoever plays Dr. Well's is an amazing actor! He has to play so many different characters! Honestly, the entire cast of the Flash is amazing! I've only known Thawne Well's, Harry, and H.R so far (just started season 4) but I've loved all of them. We got one evil villain, one misunderstood man who was closed off at first than turned out to be a great guy, and finally we got the silly guy who takes nothing seriously

For those who don't know, HR Wells was the resident Wells for season 3. He was a writer and didn't understand science at all. And was always being compared to the evil genius and the dickish-but-still-good-but-still a-genius versions of Wells the team had met. He just wanted people to be happy and got stuff done in the way that he knew how. He also didn't think enough of himself so the teams dismissive comments went a lot further than they realized and he just smiled and continued on. When they realized his full backstory the courage it took to even come here at all, they eased up on him. But that's ANOTHER story.

J'onn finds a Daughter

 Nikita has been on the mend if a little hazy/foggy headed for several weeks. She was 'stable but unresponsive' for long enough they weren't sure she would pull through. People have been giving her space and letting her mend. She warmly greets J'onn who is clearly uncomfortable, and a little standoffish. As she will learn in this conversation, J'onn has given her space for a different reason. 

“J'onn I am asking as formally as I know how, for you to be direct and precise. Which if I know you at all, shouldn't be hard for you.”

“Do you recognize the name 'Hank Henshaw'?"

A dark look cast over Nikita's eyes. "Only as a complete jerk who tried to keep Jeremiah away from his family. And when I was here initially he 'didn't like me very much'. I am being polite. He must be dead now, long dead because I try to picture him and all I see is you."

"That might be because I am wearing his face. I met you and Jeremiah for the first time when you both served under Henshaw. Your word for him was Creech-ta. And it fits.”

"...It would have to; I wouldn't use it otherwise." Nikita said offhandedly.

"I can sense that something is weighing on you." I told her gently. "I don't need to be a telepath to read you either."

“J'onn, what happened between us?”

This caught me off guard. “Why do you ask? I have my suspicions on the matter but I want to hear your opinion. Standing where you are, what inspires the question?”

“J'onn, you are my best friend in the entire universe I know this. But I keep alternating between wanting to apologize to you and wanting to grab you by the neck and shake some sense into you. Which makes no freaking sense.”

"I...that is a much longer story than either of us have the time or emotional threshold for."

  "Did I do something to offend you? Did something stupid one of us said linger for so long we are actually used to the distance?"

"God no and absolutely not." I told her forcefully. "Something did happen between us. Something we both regret and with the help of time and friends have managed to...learn the better of is the only way I know how to put it. But it was my fault. It was ENTIRELY my fault. The last thing I want you to do is blame yourself. But you are the kind of person who would do that." She looked at me with a curious expression. "I've known you for almost 8 years now and with your help I have learned exactly two unequivocal truths. One: You give grace upon grace to everyone. Even me, even strangers. Two: You shoulder blame and responsibility that is not yours to bear. At first I thought you were simply interested in sharing the burden for the sake of easing some one else's shoulders. Like with Jeremiah or Kal'el. But it's more than that. You force the burden on to your own shoulders, whether it's yours to bear or not. There is nothing you could ever have done to offend me Nikita. You are my family here."

    "Yeah the D.E.O. has become a family on Earth for both of us. That much I can see."

I shook my head. "No Nikita. You are my family. I love you like a daughter.  I never had a family on Earth, not even a sibling until I met you. Now I have not only a family but someone to care for. I felt feelings of love, responsibility and protection I have never felt before. I'm sorry I never took the time to tell you."

Surrender Brings Victory

Surrender Brings Victory

The Greatest work I have ever done involving Superman.

A young alien known as 'Nikita' hung in the air, suspended in coils of steel and carbine metal. A dusting of what looked like snow covered her scratched form. An oxygen mask was fitted over her face and metallic claws held her by the shoulders. Superman looked with horror at Lex Luthor, and then at the young woman, his face slack from shock. Nikita barely struggled as the arms carried her over a swimming pool filled with what smelled like a chlorine bath, and was slowly lowered into it.

“Luthor, what are you doing? Do you know what she is? I mean other than she's an alien?”

“Do you mean that she is Xavallen, and that her skin will burn as if with sulfur, of course I do. That's why it's called torture.” Almost as slowly as she had been submerged the robot arms pulled her out again. A mechanical apparatus that resembled nothing so much as a pair of industrial pliers held the girl at her waist. The other claw retracted. Superman understood what was going on, although he had trouble believing it. Where as the pincers at her shoulders could have lowered her in a bit at a time, the claw around her waist would release and drop her free fall into the vat of boiling tar. Or what might as well have been for her physiology. This time it would be all of a sudden and nothing would pull her out.

Superman turned and faced Lex, his eyes frantic. “Please sir, Mr. Luthor, don't do this to her.”

“What, does she mean something to you? Rather, why does she mean so much to you? Threatening Lois Lane didn't elicit such a response from you and she's been lock-step with you for years. It doesn't seem like you know who I am, but somehow you remember this unremarkable alien girl?”

“Enough to know that she is innocent and my closest friend. I assumed you knew that, or why would you be threatening her.” Superman looked down for a moment and then with a concerted effort looked up again. “I don't know enough to say this about any human being on this planet. But I know she is innocence incarnate. And I cannot believe even you would destroy her so wantonly.” In response Lex Luthor moved a dial on his handheld control and the claw holding Nikita lowered slightly. In a moment Nikita's toes dangled in the liquid. “What do you want from me?”

Lex Luthor actually seemed surprised at the question. “I want you to beg me for your life. But I know you well enough to know you never would. Other people mean more to you than your own life. So I decided to make you beg for the life of a friend.”

“I do not understand you.”

“Well there's nothing new there.” Lex quipped.

“Why do you hate me this much? Please at least tell me that.”

“Seriously? We're going to go through it all over again? Wasn't it painful enough the first time?”

“I swear to you I wouldn't know, I don't remember!” Superman exclaimed. “ 17 weeks ago I woke up flat on my back in the middle of nowhere. Nikita was standing over me. She's been trying to acclimate me to my life again. But I don't remember anything from before. I realize how this must sound but barring anyone she's introduced me to, I don't have any connections to my past life. Well, except for this.” He touched the emblem on his chest. “She says it's the sign of my people.”

Lex activated a trigger at the wall and the claw pulled away from the swimming pool and over the ramp. He looked intently at the mask and the mechanics of his contraption. Superman sighed with relief. A relief that proved to be misplaced as he watched Lex remove the oxygen mask and swing the claw back to its original position. If the claw was released Nikita would drown choking on sulfur.

“No, please! Whatever I have done, whatever I could have done to make you my enemy, punish me not her! Did I hurt you or am I in your way? I honestly don't know. Whatever happened between us, do not make her suffer for MY sins. She is true innocence if such a thing exists. On that I stake my life.” He collapsed to his knees and bowed his head. “I'll do whatever you ask I swear it, just don't hurt her anymore. Spare her, I beg you.”

“That's all I needed to hear.” Lex admitted. He touched the handheld and Nikita was lifted from the pool and back over the ramp. With a care incongruent to the anger he'd displayed moments earlier Lex undid her restraints, scooped the unconscious girl in his arms and carried her down to where Superman stood. He laid the girl gently on the floor a few feet from Superman. Only then did the Kryptonian even raise his eyes to Lex.

And when he did he was absolutely thunderstruck. “That's what you wanted out of this?” His voice trembled, as if he honestly wasn't sure what to think. “You went through all of this, not for my surrender, but to hear me beg you for...to beg you for something?”

Lex gave Superman the darkest of looks. “I wasn't going to let her die Superman.” Superman looked doubtfully at his antagonist. “I would have let her fall had this gone on much longer. But I wouldn't have let her drown. If necessary I would have dived in there after her and pulled her out. I'd prefer you didn't make a big thing of it, especially not publicly. I'm basically a criminal mastermind and keeping my word is not usually in my lexicon, much less so compassion. But I didn't have any reason to let her die. It's obvious I don't count you as being worth much. But you said she doesn't deserve to die and on that point at least I absolutely agree with you.” Lex started to walk away but was surprised when Superman grabbed his arm. He was even more surprised at the words to come out fo Superman's mouth.

“Lex. Thank You.”

“It's Mr. Luthor.” He replied out of habit. “And...you're welcome.”

Lex sat with Superman, silently watching over the woman who had so completely captured both of their attentions. And almost conversationally ventured a question. “Honestly the way you talk about her I'd think you were married or something.”

“You wouldn't be far off.” Superman answered easily.

“Can you imagine what it's like to relearn powers you've had all of your life and each one of them be new to you? I did. After I woke up I spent a few week discovering and then mastering each of my special abilities. Nikita was my coach. On life as well as my powers. When I realized no other alien on Earth had my powers I asked her where I was from.”

“That couldn't have been a very pleasant conversation.”

“So it's well known Krypton was destroyed.” Superman noted. “And you're right. She had to tell me my planet blew up when I was still a toddler and see me react. Apparently it's one of very few times I punched a hole through a concrete wall, out of sheer anger. Anyway, that's how I know her kindness and innocence are timeless. She's the one who stayed with me, lock step since I lost my memories and helped me put my life back together. Tell the truth after a while I thought she and I were married, or at least together as a couple. There didn't seem to be anyone in my life who was so...well who knew me as well as she did. But she insists she is simply one of my closest friends. And I can tell that she at least does not have those feelings about me."

“Superman, believe it or not I could probably tell you a thing or two about your race and your life. That is, if you want.” Superman looked at Lex and saw in a moment this was an offer made with sincere emotion, not a bargain to be struck or a kindness for which Lex expected to be repaid.

“I think I would like that very much.” Superman said quietly.

“Your planet Krypton was under a red sun. You have powers because your cells absorb the radiation of Earth's yellow sun at an extraordinary rate. You are the only Kryptonian known to live on Earth. And it is a common belief that you are the only half decent member of your whole Kryptonian race. We've had others visit from the stars, other refugees or something. But they've all been soldiers dead set on restoring Krypton here on Earth and you...basically saved Earth from the rest of your people as well as the more ambitious lunatics of Metropolis. I had a theory that you came to Earth a lot earlier than anyone believes.” Superman looked up. “You first showed up in Metropolis about 9 years ago and you quickly became a hero of Earth. It's generally assumed that you arrived on Earth from Krypton, saw there was work that needed to be done and led by example, showing us what we were capable of by inspiring us to be greater so on and so on. But after the many conflicts you and I have had...Superman, I don't suppose there is any point to my asking, why you called me by my first name.”

“I honestly don't know. Mr. Luthor...I don't think we know each-other. If we did Lois or Nikita would surely have told me that I knew you. Nikita never mentioned you at all. But whoever I am, I am not entirely without honor either. I won't try to bring you in for this. As far as I care you saved Nikita's life. That gets you a pass...until next time.” He smiled faintly. “And may I now ask you a question?”

“You just did; but you may ask another if you wish.”

“ARE we enemies?” Superman asked gently.

“In so far as I am a criminal mastermind and you have ruined my plans more often than I can count. That you are truly superior to humans and I've been more than a little obsessed trying to figure out literally everything I can about you and we simply do NOT understand each-other...yes.”

Lex's countenance fell slightly as he realized what the past few hours would have looked like to a man truly without his memories. And the conclusions Superman must have drawn about their past. “We've been on opposite sides since we met but were never personal enemies Superman. Or if we were it sure as hell wasn't because of anything you did, simply what you are.”

“A super-powered alien?” Superman guessed.

“A Superior Man who ignores his own gifts, denies his own nature. Who would rather be one of us than lead us. I didn't hate you Superman. I wanted to destroy you yes but I didn't hate you. To see a man of greatness, truly superior in every way who chose to be less. A man destined for greatness who doesn't seem to do anything with the powers he was literally born with. Okay, maybe I do hate you a little bit. What I'm saying is you didn't do anything to earn my enmity. Believe me short of existing and being everything we strive to be, you didn't do anything at all.”

“You are...an extra-ordinary individual.”

“Yes I am. Although I never expected to hear that from you.”

“Most people wear a mask of some sort and suffer behind it. They either delude themselves into thinking they are other than what they are or simply don't understand themselves at all. Looking everywhere else to find out who they are. It's one of the few impressions I have from before. You know and embrace exactly who and what you are. Which from my understanding is a rare thing for, I forgive this...your people. Seriously the only other person I know who is so completely self-aware and so completely accepting of who they are...is right here. Although she's a little quieter about it.”

“Heh, I can see why you think so highly of her.”

“Lex, Mr. Luthor, I am sorry but I have to ask...” Superman didn't finish his sentence.

“When she wakes up you can fly her out of here. In fact I'm not sure why she isn't waking up.”

“36 hours.”

“I'm sorry what?”

“36 hours is important to her." Superman said more slowly. "And 5 out of every 36 hours. It's unique to her people. I'm not sure what...or why.” Lex put his hand over his mouth. “Why is that funny?!”

Lex waved his hand dismissively. "It isn't funny Superman, it's AM-azing. 36 hours must be in reference to her Xavallen physiology. Her circadian rhythms are based on a 36 hour cycle not a 24 hour cycle and she falls asleep for 5 hours out of every 36 hour cycle. Apparently far deeper than human REM sleep. Superman, you don't have to worry about her. If I'm right about this, and I have to believe that I am, she's not passed out from the pain, she's literally asleep!”

“Then she'll wake up the instant her 5 hour hibernation is over.”

Lex Luthor actually checked his watch. “Which should be in a little more than an hour. So get her out of here. Fly her to wherever she feels at home. But Superman. I have one question before you fly away.”

“Then ask it. I owe you at least that much.”

Lex Luthor opened his mouth, paused for a moment, and closed it again. “Never-mind. It's not important.”

Discovery in the Walls

  Discovery in Star Labs

“What is this place?” Harrison Wells asked as he turned in place. The room in which he should not have been able to stand was about 30 meters long and 12 meters wide. There was no obvious source of light, nor was there a shortage of it.

“Unknown individual, please identify yourself.”

The lack of pause between the first two words and the rest of the statement struck Wells as odd, as if the 'unknown individual' was being addressed rather than recognized. “Uh...Harrison Wells.”

“Greetings Dr. Wells. How may I be of assistance?”

“Tell me who you are.” Wells answered, bemused.

“I am Gideon; an interactive artificial consciousness.”

“What is your manufacturing origin, Gideon?”

“I was first activated on March 22^nd 2044. I was commissioned 7 years prior by the Central City Police Department CSI divi...”

“Disregard Gideon. It's never a good idea to peer into the window of the future.” Harrison waited for a confused sound or an objection. None came. “Are you still there Gideon?”

“Of course Dr. Wells.”

“Are you...aware of when you are?”

“Current transmissions and chronometric reading indicate Central City October 7^th 2004. Is this correct?”

Wells couldn't fight a smile. “Yes it is correct Gideon. I take it you are from, well that you were functioning for sometime after your activation?”

“My last memory in my recorded present was in the year 2166.”

“And then you ended up in my time?”

“Affirmative Dr. Wells.”

“I hope you'll forgive me for saying it is fortunate for me that you arrived when you did. Not that I intend to take particular advantage of you Gideon. I've just been feeling pretty adrift lately. I could use someone to talk to, let me know I am on the right path...If I am.”

“Likewise I hope you'll forgive this but I do not believe it was fortuitous for you that I arrived 'when I did'.”

Harrison felt his stomach seize up at that. “Explain.” silence. “When did you arrive in my time Gideon?”

“December 20^th 2002.”

The day before Tess died. “Gideon, do I infer correctly that the individual with whom you arrived had absolutely no intention of preventing my wife's murder?”

“You surmise correctly, Dr. Wells.”

“Gideon, who invented you?”

“Barry Allen, director of Central City Police, CSI division. Also known as The Flash.”

Explain the term please Gideon.”

“The Flash is the alias assumed by the hero of Central City, a meta-human who later gave his life defending the city.”

“I realize I shouldn't be asking this Gideon, but what is the origin of the Flash.” A newspaper article appeared at the far wall, dated October 17^th 2004. “I don't understand Gideon. I asked for the origin of the Flash. Barry Allen would be at most 12 years old right now.”

“Correct. However although the incident which grants him meta-human abilities will not happen for another 15 years, this is the event which allows him to become The Flash.”

“Elaborate Gideon.”

“When Star Labs accelerator gives various resident of Central City meta-human abilities, one individual thus affected is Barry Allen. Many such individuals seek either humanitarian or criminal futures for themselves. The Flash is recognized as a different sort of hero. He is frequently described as more relatable, more hopeful, a beacon of hope doing the impossible for the people of the city he loves. The vigilante team in Starling City is cited declaring the Flash as 'watching over his city like a guardian angel'. This incident led to his initial encounters with the Arrow and his other allies, leading to a 'golden age' of heroism. Barry Allen himself would describe this moment as what inspired him to truly become a hero, in spite of adversity or circumstance. Therefor this incident is the origin of The Flash.”

“...And unfortunately I can understand why.

Nora Allen murdered. Husband Charged.

Local Doctor Charged in horrific Crime.

“As a youth, Barry Allen always protested his father's innocence. But he was 12 years old and no one believed his account.”

“Because it was something impossible. Like a man who can move through solid matter and wore a yellow suit that looked like it had been designed by a speedster?”

“He frequently described a 'man in yellow' and a 'ball of lightning in his house that night, yes.”

“And did the truth eventually come out?”

“Within a year of The Flash's appearance, when Barry Allen himself becomes the impossible, Henry Allen is cleared of all charges, yes.”

“Then why doesn't the man in Yellow do his job?”

“Professor Thawne is...quite literally nowhere to be found in this time.”

Wells stared at the newspaper article. His mind was confused and clear at the same time. “Do you have a spare yellow suit Gideon?”

“Yes Doctor Wells. Although if I am correct in what you intend, you will need something else as well.”

“Harrison Wells, are you now set on your course?”

“You've calibrated the velocity-9, yes?”

“Yes Dr. Wells.”

“And the newspapers contemporaneous with The Flash and this 'age of superheroes' you spoke of will record this 'man in yellow' as the murderer, as originally recorded?”

“Affirmative Dr. Wells.”

“Then let's get this over-with before anything could possibly change my mind.”

“Agreed Doctor Wells.”

“I will not say 'congratulations'. However I will say you did the right thing Doctor Wells.”

“Really Gideon? Funny, I always thought NOT committing murder was generally 'the right thing'.”

“Defending his father's innocence, maintain his 'impossible' story until the time the impossible is born, is a crucial part of Barry Allen's developmental years.”

“He searches for the impossible until the day he becomes the impossible. Am I right?”

“Do you truthfully need a confirmation of this Dr. Wells?”

“Well, to confirm it as fact no. For the purposes of reassuring me this was all worth it, yes.”

“I understand Dr. Wells.”

“How do you know who I am anyway? I mean, obviously your from like 200 years in the future from me, so you would know who I am, but I couldn't help noticing that for an Artificial intelligence you were almost eager to help me, to offer me your assistance, why is that?”

“Because Doctor Wells...you invented Star Labs.”

“I create meta-humans...I create the Flash?”

“I can only speak to my own creation Dr. Wells. At some point Barry Allen and his team perform a through inspection of Star Labs and discover a room which technically should not exist. And within it they discover purely theoretical plans for an interactive artificial consciousness. Within 10 years Barry Allen creates me. In a way I create myself.”

"How long until Star Labs becomes Flash headquarters? How long until Barry Allen and I first meet?”

“You instructed me not to tell you the future Dr. Wells.”

“No specific dates. Approximately how long until I have a chance to tell him who he is...or what I did?”

“It is in approximately 15 years that Barry Allen becomes a speedster.”

“Then I will see you in approximately 15 years Gideon.”

“I understand Doctor Wells. I feel I should tell you it is possible to access this room without activating me. I sincerely hope the resources of future technology will be useful to you.”

“I think I will take advantage of the technology. And I want to thank you Gideon. You know I am not actually angry with you, right?”

“Of course Doctor Wells. I look forward to working with you more directly...when the future begins.”

“As do I Gideon....As do I.”

Superman Defeated (original inspiration)

  Superman Defeated; Second Inspiration

Please whatever I have done, whatever I could have done to make you see me as your enemy, don't hold my arrogance against her. She is innocent in everything, excepting nothing. You say I was a monster; I have to accept that. I can't deny it at least. But whether I was or not, don't make her suffer for MY sins.

“I beg of you, let her go.”

Superman said to the Luthor who held his word's innocence captive. Nikita hung in the air, suspended in coils of steel and carbine metal. A dusting of what looked like snow covered her scratched form. An oxygen mask was fitted over her face. Metallic arms held her by the shoulders and lowered her into a chlorine bath. Superman could tell by the smell. Nikita struggled weakly and fruitlessly in the chamber. Her skin and eyes burning red from acid. Superman was horrified.

“She's Xavallen. Do you know what that means? Don't you know what this will do to her?”

“Why of course I do Superman; that's why it's called torture.”

Almost as slowly as she had been submerged, the robot arms pulled her out again. Another mechanical apparatus which resembled nothing so much as a pair of industrial pliers held the girl at her waist. When the others retracted Superman saw what was going on, although he had trouble believing it. The claw around her waist was ready to drop the barely conscious woman into what was for her physiology a swimming pool of hydrochloric acid. And this time if she was dropped it would be all of a sudden, and nothing would pull her out.

Superman turned and faced Lex, his eyes frantic. “Please sir, Mr. Luthor, not her.”

“What does she mean something to you? You don't remember Lois Lane, the intrepid reporter you glorifies you to the public for her newspaper. You don't know who I am or why I hate you so much...and believe me I do. But somehow you remember this unremarkable alien girl?”

“Well enough to call her my friend. And enough to know that she is innocent.” Superman looked down a moment. “I would call her innocence incarnate.” He whispered, as if to himself.

The claw lowered. Nikita's feet dangled in the pond. “What do you want from me?”

Lex actually looked surprised. “I want you to beg me for your life. But I know you well enough to know you never would. So instead, I thought I'll make you beg for the life of a friend.”

“What could I have done to make you hate me this much?”

“Seriously, we're going to go through it all over again? Wasn't it painful enough the first time?”

“I wouldn't know, I don't remember!” Superman exclaimed. “Three months ago I opened my eyes and I was flat on my back in the middle of nowhere. Nikita was lying on the ground beside me. Barring anyone she's introduced me to, I don't know anyone or anything else from my life.” Lex activated a secondary trigger and walked up the ramp to examine both the claw, and the soon to be permanent victim of the swimming pool of death. He pulled Nikita toward him and Superman sighed with relief. A relief that proved to be misplaced however as he watched Lex remove the oxygen mask around Nikita's face and swing the claw back to its original position. If the claw was released Nikita would drown choking on burning acid.

“No, no please. Whatever I have done, whatever I could have done to make you my enemy, don't hold my arrogance against her. She is true innocence if such a thing exists on this planet! If you say I'm a monster, I accept that. Whether I am or not, don't make her suffer for MY sins. I'll do whatever you ask, I swear it, just don't hurt her...I'm Begging you.” He crumbled on the floor.

“That's all I needed to hear.” Lex admitted. He once again pulled the girl safely from the drowning pit. This time undoing her restraints. With the still unconscious girl in his arms Lex walked down the ramp and laid the girl gently on the floor. Only then did Superman even raise his eyes to Lex. And when he did he looked absolutely thunderstruck.

“That's what you wanted. You went through all of this, not for my surrender but to hear me beg you for...anything?”

Lex gave Superman the darkest look. “ I have to admit I was never going to let her die.” Lex raised his hand to stop Superman's objection. “I'm not saying I wouldn't have let her fall, I would have. But I would have dived in there after her. Don't make a big thing of it alright? I'm not exactly known for selflessness or altruism...or fairness for that matter. But I didn't have anything against her. I don't count you as being worth much. But you said she didn't deserve to die and on that point at least I absolutely agree with you.” Lex started to walk away but was surprised when Superman reached out and grabbed his arm. He was even more surprised to hear the words that came out of Superman's mouth. “Lex. Thank. You.”

“It's Mr. Luthor.” He replied out of habit. “And you're...you're welcome.”

Lex sat with in silence with Superman, watching over the woman who had captured both of their admiration. “Honestly the way you talk about her, I'd think you were married or something.”

“You wouldn't be far off.” Superman answered. “Can you imagine what it's like to relearn powers that you've had most of your life? I did. I mean I relearned every special ability I have. And she helped me do that. Then had to tell my Krypton was destroyed...and watch me react. That is how I know her kindness and innocence are timeless. Hell after a while I thought she and I were married, or at least together, because she knew me so well. She insists we're just really, really close friends...and I can tell she doesn't have those feelings for me."

   "Superman...believe it or not I could probably tell you a thing or to about your people and your life...if you want."

Obviously this scene is largely inspired by a moment in Flash where Eaobard Thawne, who doesn't remember being the Reverse Flash pleading with the Flash not to hold whatever his past sins were against the woman he loved. “I'm begging you; save her.” But there is another scene that serves as a strong inspiration for this as well. In season 4 of Smallville Clark loses his memory. Chloe knows his secret and is playing tour guide. Chloe brings him to the mansion. At this point he and Lex are still friends, drifting apart but still friends. Lex's face when Clark addresses him as 'Mr. Luthor' is absolutely priceless.

Superman Defeated Take One

 Four in the morning and I got an image in my head of Superman kneeling on the ground, a victorious Lex standing behind him. I took some printer paper and a clipboard and started writing. There was one line, or one eventual moment I really wanted to get to before my hand got tired. I filled two pages then ran out of room with one line left in my story. I didn't feel like starting a new page that would only have one line at the top of it, and would probably get lost before I had a chance to type it up, so I wrote the final line in the space between paragraphs. I'm pretty sure that last line was as much of a "Jaw. Floor." moment for me as the author as it was for Lex himself.

Superman Defeated

“Please, I beg of you, stop this!” Superman said to the Luthor who stood behind him. His cousin Kara was suspended before his eyes, beaten and bruised. Other than a revealing 2 piece swimsuit, her only covering was a necklace of kryptonite which dung into her skin. The chains themselves seemed to be made of kryptonite. Clark fell to his knees at the sight.

“That's a bit better.” Lex said tauntingly. “At least you are where you belong.”

“Please Lex, I'll do anything; just let her go.”

“What makes you think I want anything from you? I mean, beyond submission and to see you kneeling at my feet. Get up Superman. Get yourself up and stand like a solider. Take your defeat like a Kryptonian.”

Summoning every ounce of his will, Superman forced himself to his feet. He was pretty sure what Lex would order him to do: Kneel before him, willingly and deliberately. Having the lofty, over confident better-than-thou Superman humble himself was Lex's ambition, had been his singular focus for years.

“And now take your place where you belong; at my feet and under my heel.”

“Don't you even want to know who I am?” Superman persisted. “You found out Kara's identity or she wouldn't be here. At least, not with kryptonite burning her blood.”

“Actually I didn't learn who she was. Not as far as learning of her human identity. I just picked her up when she was trying to fly. She was wearing this at the time.” Lex Luthor casually tosses a blue skin-tight suit and red cape into Superman's face. “I take it she's more than just another lost Kryptonian from your not so invincible doomed planet.”

“Turn it off damn you!” Superman screamed. “Turn it off or you'll kill her and this will be for no-thing!”

Lex turned a dial on his handheld and the green light faded. The chains released themselves and fell to the floor, joined quickly by their former captive. The necklace still firmly embedded in her skin, Kara crawled away from the chains.

“Now, you mind answering the implied question?” Lex Luthor prompted.

“She's Zor'el's daughter.” Superman answered, breathing hard with relief and regret.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Lex quipped, clearly annoyed.

“My Kryptonian name is Kal'el, the son of Jor'el. Ipso. Facto.”

“She's your cousin!” So that 'S' so many people see as you fly by, looking up at their hero. The symbol old Perry White saw as a symbol of hope for tomorrow?”

“...Let's just say there's a very good reason Zod and Jax-Ur never wore it.”

“In point of fact I was pretty sure you had a human identity Superman. I just didn't particularly care about it. But now my interest is peaked.”

Superman looked his nemesis in the face, not directly in the eyes. “Promise me that you will let Kara go and I will tell you. Please show at least that much humanity...and honor.”

“Okay now you're being flat our ridiculous!” Superman hung his head, certain his last hope at saving his family was gone. “Why would you trust me to let her go? Making that promise and breaking it is nothing for me. I'm an evil sociopath. I can mimic concern and empathy and feel none of those things as easily as I breathe air. What makes you think a megalomaniac like me cares about any life as long as it gets me what I want?”

Because you never do anything without a purpose Lex Luthor. You only destroy buildings to further your goals. You only hurt people because you...” He caught himself. “Because you perceive them as being an obstacle to be removed or somehow in your way. If it will further your goals you will set her free. There is nothing you want from her. And you have absolutely no reason to want to hurt her. You only used her to break me. I'm broken. If you doubt it...I will submit anyway.”

Kal'el of Krypton turned to face the wall, putting Lex Luthor at his left. He slowly bent his back and lowered himself to his knees. For all you could tell he was bowing his head saying his prayers ready to be executed. Symbolically he was preparing himself to be beheaded by the righteous and victorious Lex Luthor. A poetry he knew would not go unnoticed by the Machiavellian, student of all human philosophy he'd fought against for so long.

“For the first time since I've known you, you've actually surprised me.”

Keeping his eyes to the floor, holding himself as humble and vulnerable, as non 'arrogant kryptonian' as he could Superman gave the only response he could think of to explain his surrender and not antagonize his conqueror; he hoped. “I said I would do anything; I meant it. This is what you wanted. Is it enough? Are you appeased Lex?”

Lex walked around Superman 2 or 3 times. The 'superior man' as Lex had come to think of him, did not raise his head or make a sound. As he stood behind the man--it would be improper to call him an alien now--he came to a decision. “Tell me why you speak so strangely to me, why this entire time you've been saying my name like we were friends, and I'll let you and your cousin fly out of here.”

Superman was quiet for several moments after that. Lex allowed him the repose. No matter if it was intended as an offer or a challenge, his statement deserved serious consideration. Finally Superman began to speak. And it was as if his words came from someone other than himself. “Your family had a ranch in Montana. You used to visit there every summer with your mom. Your father sold the property when your mother died. You believe the world isn't black and white; that sometimes good and evil is gray. There are very few people you truly trust...Which is why you value trust even above loyalty or power. Although most people would say that was impossible, or that I had it backwards.”

Superman raised his head enough to glance behind him. “You called me a boy-scout long before I ever put on this cape...Or this 'S'.”

For the first time in his adult life Lex Luthor was speechless. Until finally he found a single word. "CLARK?!"

"I was wondering if you were ever going to see it." Superman said, smiling thinly.

Light of Heaven

 (Written to be read aloud in an audience; like a scribe or a dramatic chorus)

Balian had been met in the city streets by three of his father's men: Almaric, who seemed to have been one of Godfrey's most trusted soldiers. Lenard, a young man with red hair on his crown and above his lip, and a Spaniard who was called Ruiz, and said very little. Of course the first order of business had been to confirm Balian had indeed known Godfrey and carried his sword for a good reason. The second was sorting out why he traveled with a Saracen servant.

“Nassir asked to follow me and I accepted his help. There is nothing more to it than that, nor should there be.” Balian replied tersely.

“Nassir.” Lenard said with an ill-favored glance at the man. “What kind of Chevalier DeGuise actually chooses that name?”

“None.” The man answered. “My master, my old master called me that as a job description. And I answer to it easily, far more easily after yesterday because now I asked for the position.”

“What are you discussing?” Balian all but demanded. “I am asking Almaric more than else.”

Nassir raised his left hand in a 'if I may' gesture and the solider, Almaric nodded his assent. “The name Nassir means 'champion or supporter'. It made sense to me that Mummad al-Fais would take to calling me that: I was his closest companion when he had no other support with him. Three days ago I asked to be your guardian and chose to stand with you, no matter what. I do not foresee myself changing my mind. Unless and until I do, I have no reason to use a different name for myself.”

“Nassir, if any of your equals met you in the market place, what would they call you?”

“My name is even less my choice than 'Nassir'. To be clear, my master did not give me a name, replacing one identity with another. He simply 'called' me Nassir as a term of endearment. I was 'Imad' to people who knew me well. But please, if I have any say in the matter NASSIR is what I wish to be called. It always has been.”

“I am sorry for my assumption.” Lenard said softly but clearly.

“And I am sorry if I've made you doubt yourself.” Balian said, agreeing with the man.

“I hope I may still count on your friendship, now that I know you are not actually afraid of me.”

“A reminder of humility, and antidote to arrogance?”

“You asked it's permission.” Balian said suddenly. Nassir looked up startled and if possible, intrigued. “the only way we could make this journey is if your masters steed accepted you and you asked its...approval I guess; without trying to buy his acceptance.”

“Yes. I...must admit you surprise me.”

“I am the baron of Ibelin. But until Godfrey found me..That is..before my father came back for me I was a blacksmith in Niece. I know the behavior of horses.”

“I should give them a little something?” Nassir suggested. With Balian's nodded approval the stranger took a couple of carrot stubs out fo his satchel and handed one to each horse. “Please forgive the intrusion but are you...like Godfrey?”

“I am not sure honestly.” Balian replied with hesitation. “I only knew him for a short while before he passed on. Why do you ask?”

“Godfrey of Ibelin was one fo the few Christian lords we respected for his character and honor as much as his skills as a warrior, or the respect due one of his rank. Sala-ho-deen himself respected him as a man of conscience and principle...I am sorry.” Nassir quickly hung his head and lowered his eyes. “I know you must feel overawed as it is. I did not mean...” He trailed off.

“It is quite alright Nassir. I'm going to miss you.”

The shock on the other mans face was considerable. “Where am I going?” He said in a quick voice.

“I have a new life to live; I cannot ask you to be a part of it. You should go, be about your business. Be with those you are for.”

“Forgive me but are you jesting with me?”

“No why would I...would anyone say something like that in jest?”

“Why would you let me go?” Nassir replied, equally mystified. Haltingly he began to explain his confusion. “Sir, this is your prize of battle. I was the servant of the man you killed I fair combat. I am your prisoner...your slave should you wish it.”

“Am I correct this is because of my rank not your lack of it?” Balian asked calmly. Nassir nodded, wondering how Balian could be so ignorant in the world. “Explain further, please.”

This allowance is granted because of your...condition I believe. But it would be true anyway, to a point. We, my master and I created a situation that brought us to this current moment. Put simply, you won, it's your decision what happens from this point on. What...What do you intend to do with me?”

“I categorically refuse the allowance, I do not deserve it and I will not claim it. Nassir, until a week ago, I was not a man of rank, and have done absolutely nothing to deserve that honor. I will not use a title I have not earned to make any man follow after me. As far as your being my slave, I will never keep one nor suffer any to be kept if I can change it. This world, being a lord and having recognition is as foreign a world to me as the Holy Land and Syria itself. I do not deserve your admiration. Go in peace.

“I cannot Milord.” Nassir said slowly but firmly. “ALL is as God wills it; I truly believe that. I cannot see how the two of us could have met at all unless Allah wished it so, unless God himself brought us together. At any rate, I am not permitted to leave your side. I refuse to leave a stranger to Jerusalem alone in a sea of faces.” Nassir smiled thinly. “No matter what life will be like, it will be worth living.” he quipped, looking vaguely mystical. “Call em a servant or a protector if you want; it would not be far from the truth. No matter what else my life is now, it is bound to yours and not out of compulsion, I assure you.”

“I'm not going to dissuade you from this, am I?” Balian said with a soft smile. Nassir shook his head slowly. “Then so be it. But I will insist on one thing. Do not call me 'sir' or 'Milord' My name is Balian and that's what you at least should call me.”

“Very well....Balian.”

(Note: Chavilier DeGuise literally translates from French as 'knight disguised'. Which at the time would have been understood more as 'dis-guised' -- closer to 'de-robed or 'without standing')