CSI Elana Stien (Earth 21)

 Barry Allen and his CSI in training Elana Stein are called to a massive warehouse where a bunch of expensive cars were NOT stolen, but the thief got in and out without a problem.

Elana: The breakage indicates the door somehow had zero viscoelasticity when it hit the ground.

Detective Eddie Thawne: You're doing that thing where you're not speaking English.

Elana: (at first taking it literally) What? Oh sorry. The Steel shattered like Glass. 

Elana picks of a fragment of the steel door that looks like it was sliced with a laser rather than shattered like a window that got hit with a baseball.

Elana: Oh crap. Crap, crap CRAP!

Barry Allen: Okay what's that about?

Elana Stien: It was frozen solid, like Flash-frozen...no pun intended. There's only one place I know with enough bleeding-edge tech to create a weapon like this: Star Labs. And there's only one person I know who would want to. Someone with whom I have an...unconventional history. His name is Lenard Snart. I'm not sure I'm correct in either of my suppositions.

Detective Eddie Thawne: Maybe not, but it's a good place to start.

Elana starts to walk away, Barry catches up with her.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess, why?”

“I don't know it just, seems like you're in pain. Maybe you should see a doctor.”
“Not for this.” She looks at Barry. “Sajen, I take care to avoid getting X-rays.”

“Okay, listen you want to come over for dinner, my dad's making lasagna.”

“Appreciate the invite, I better not. Not until I figure out what exactly is going on.”

“Cool, just a thought.”

“Barry. I'm sorry I don't always sense things that should be obvious, were you...”

“Just dinner, between co-workers. Wanted to get to know you a little better.”

“I'm from National City, CA. Mount Shasta originally. My mother wasn't from here.”

Barry ponders this for a moment. “Cool. Thanks, for that.”

Later that night Elana meets with the Flash for the second time.

The Flash: (in distorted voice) Why the freaked out look on your face?

Elana Stien: 'Freaked out' is not the right word. Devastated mixed with confused.

The Flash: What's got you so nervous? I hope you know you can trust me. Does this have anything to do with why you won't get an x-ray?

Elana Stien: No, but thank you Barry.

The Flash: (Still in disguised voice) I don't understand.

Elana Stien: You were super-interested in a weapon that could slow the Flash down. You either were the Flash, or were friends with him. You denied knowing him. But you just quoted me to myself. Besides, you Flash called me by my name last time we met. Beyond those I work with, there's exactly 2 people on this god-damn planet who even know my name. Well, three I suppose.

The Flash: (no distorted voice) Snart.

Elana Stien: I kept being present at his crimes, as a civilian. He took refuge in my apartment to hide from the cops. He had a gunshot wound in his ribs. I treated his wound and we literally just sat in my apartment talking for 7 hours. When the cops came, I didn't press charges.

The Flash: Why not?

Elana: For one thing I know a desperate man when I see one and a dangerous man when I see one, and I can recognize when the two do not overlap. I opened up to him enough to share that my mixed heritage causes some pretty severe problems with me, that I'm in constant pain and while it comes close to a lot of different pretty severe conditions humans have, there's no way to effectively treat it since it's literally the result of conflicting physiology. Also my home is a sanctuary. You're under my roof, you're safe. PERIOD.

Flash: Like a confessional?

Elana: 'Who you see here, what you hear here, when you leave here, let it stay here.'

Flash: Then yeah. 

Elana: I've never taken a Hippocratic oath. It's just basically in my nature. He doesn't want to hurt you. He wants to prove he's better than you.

Flash: A thief who is in it for the challenge as much as the money?

Elana: Yes. and will probably be on the run from the cops as long as his legs can sustain his weight.

What she was talking about:

“You don't need to threaten me.” Elana Morris said calmly. “My fear is because of your weapon, not from you. You need my help and frankly I think you deserve it.”

“First time I've ever heard that one.” Lenard Snart said his back propped up against the wall.

“Alright, if you prefer I have absolutely no reason to let you suffer if I can help it. And I think I can. I have a condition that requires some interesting nerve-medications. And like ibuprofen on crack...pardon the expression. Think of it like being born with osteoarthritis. I assume these will help with the pain?”

“You don't know?” A shadow crossed Snarts face. “I mean that makes perfect sense and you're right it would, but how could you not know that for sure?”

“Because of my use of language I state things I'm sure of as possibilities not certainties; as beliefs not facts. It is an assumption I am quite certain of, but I will never outright claim to be right on such things. Only on like there is a creator and friends can be friends in five minutes it doesn't have to take 5 years...anyway, stay here. They're in my room.”

Elana left down the hall and returned a few minutes later, carrying gauze, water, a green prescription bottle and 500 Mg Tylenol. She took 2 red tablets and one green one out and set the water down. She looked hard at Snart, who looked back, openly seeking an explanation. “I'm only going near you if you lower your gun. You have no need of it and it has no place here.”

Snart looked at her a moment, taking her measure and came to a conclusion. “Fair enough.” He said as he set his weapon down beside him.

Elana walked up to him, placed the 3 tablets in his left hand and the cup of water in his right. She backed away from him and sat herself on the couch. Snart popped the tablets in his mouth and drank, slowly. “And no, I don't want to know what you did.” This seemed to surprise Snart.

“If it doesn't matter to you, why bring it up? Or are you not sufficiently intelligent enough to know what's going on...What this means?”

“I know a desperate criminal when I see one. It's just unlike most people I know the difference between desperate and evil. Besides I'm pretty sure that doesn't matter right now.”

“ 'You're on this table you're safe' type of situation?”

“I've never actually taken a Hippocratic oath but you're in this house under my roof which means you're safe. And I am pretty much sworn to help others and not care about anything else as much as just helping them. So...near enough.”

“Anyone else here I should know about?” Snart asked quickly.

“I live alone. But my...foster father Martin comes around sometimes. He isn't really, I mean not legally, I just think of him that way. And you recognized me...didn't you.”

“Not sure what you mean.”

“Eleven weeks ago was the last time I got involved in anything having to do with the cops, and almost everyone there had a mask on. I conclude you were there that day. And you've gotten into trouble again since then. On the run from the cops no, you recognized me from that near-miss of a situation and decided I was your best bet to find help...with the least chance of making a situation a million times worse. How are my powers of deduction?”

“Pretty damn good I'd say. But I'd still like to learn your name.”

“Elana Morris.” The woman said pressing her left hand against her chest.

“Lenard Snart.”

Beautiful Heroism

It must be understood that Jeremiah has suffered minor injuries, but nothing he did not willingly sustain. This, if nothing else, must be known FIRST.

It was five days later that I started really wondering what was going on. J'onn came to talk to us about once a day. He'd ask a hundred questions, give us lunch and dinner and then leave. This was after 2 weeks of taking one or the other of us away for private conversations that would last for hours. He'd either shove me against the wall or give me a blue jaw when he thought I was lying to him or being as racist as any human, but that was it. Beyond that he, actually took care of us. It was... I don't know what it was.

“I can tell what you're thinking.” Nikita said to me.

“Why do you think he changed tactics?”

“I told him you couldn't know what was happening with the two of us unless you were present. In that if we were simply talking or if something more barbaric was going on. There was no way for you to know he wasn't doing anything TO me because I wouldn't tell you if he were. So for that, and the very practical reason of no one having to repeat themselves. He put us together when he talks to us.”

“Why do I get the impression you're making fun of me?”

“I suppose I am...a little bit.”

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

“Even so, I'm having trouble making heads or tails of him.”

“And I'm pretty sure he's doing everything he can to make sense of us. Or more specifically, of me.” {J'onn comes in, mentions Nikita's human appearance and how well she keeps her temper in check – both sincere complimentary observations – gives them large glasses of potato curry soup and leaves}

“Okay, now I'm REALLY confused.”

“This simply cannot continue.” Nikita whispers. She turned to face the wall.

“Come with me, now.” J'onn told Nikita, who stood but did not move. “I'll not ask again.” J'onn insisted, taking a step toward her.

I got in front of her. “Leave her alone!” he raised his hand as if to backhand me, but dropped his arm in the last moment. “Whatever you have planned for her, take me instead.”

“And if I'm about to take her away and execute her. Do you still volunteer?”

“No, but I know you're not going to. Nikita was right if you wanted either of us dead, we'd be dead. If you wanted us hurt, we'd be beaten black and blue. What you want, the only thing you've wanted from either of us, is answers.”

“And it's about time I get them.” He grabbed Nikita by the wrist and started dragging her away. I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away from her. “Your actions are as heroic as they are unwise.” He warned me.

“You will not hurt her.”

“You care for her?” he said in a strange voice.

“This surprises you?”

“I knew you felt responsible for her. This is...Who or what is she, to you?”

“Someone who was tortured for years by a man more blind than I have the words to express. Hank Henshaw was...not the hard, stern man I saw in him. He was so convinced Nikita was an enemy and a liar. He tortured her to get her to reveal her true appearance and intentions. Basically he wanted her to show him the monster she really was underneath. But there was no monster. It was the most obvious thing in the world that she was a gentle and innocent soul. I'd rather die than let her come to harm again. Sir, I can't pretend to understand you, but I swear on my life, if you let her go you can do whatever you want with me __ in payment of that debt.” This speech, I must admit, had far from its desired effect. J'onn actually backed away from me. “I was wrong about you. I'm SO sorry.”

“None of this was needful Sajen.” Nikita interjected. “It never was, was it?”

“No, no there wasn't.” I swear he sounded like a schoolboy getting dressed down for bad behavior. But Nikita wasn't finished. “For someone who can read our minds to determine the truth of our souls, you are surprisingly Deaf!”

“Nikita, help me understand this.”

“I think he was 15 degrees off about me and I'm pretty sure I was at least 30 degrees off about him. But all...you had to do was ask. I would have permitted it.”

“You're a telepath?”

“Yes, but unlike her kind I don't pick up continuous transmissions. I can read you mind if I choose. But I do not do so without permission.”

'A comedy of errors with little funny about it.' I thought to myself.

“If this had gone on any longer 'Deimos pah, Tarek Nit-cha.' would have been the next thing out of my mouth. Or are you Phobos?”

“Do you know what they are?”

“I know that -” her voice and face took on an academic look. “- 'in the early days of Mars there were two brothers, Phobos and Deimos. Their rivalry and bloodshed was the reason for the split of the Green and White Martians.' I learned that Phobos were barbaric. Creech-ta if not Crishnaka-Sareth. I just never knew who came from whom.” I must have had a VERY confused look on my face because Nikita turned to me. “Hank was an ignorant arrogant asshole, if not an ambassador of hell. That's what the two words mean, in my language.”

Something seemed to click in J'onn's brain. “How can you be speaking the Enkaren language so flawlessly if you are not yourself Enkaren?”

“Because it's my native language as well.”

“What?”

“Atraxi, Enkarens and Xavallens all share the same language. No more than 3,000 years ago we were the same race!”

J'onn stepped toward Nikita and brushed his fingers over her temples.

“I must humbly beg your pardon.” He said sadly.

“Okay, now I'm lost.”

“I have 3 questions right now. Which you can probably read on my face.”

“And one of which is not even a question.”

“True. So instead I will simply present an argument. For almost a month now the three of us, most certainly the two of us have been remarkably civil to each-other...given the rest of our situation. You must have seen Nikita was as dedicated to my well-being as I was to her protection.” J'onn nodded his agreement. “And it is by that same token I tell you that if you hurt her again, my restraint will go so far out the window it leaves the atmosphere. I would almost certainly die trying to take you down. I have that amount of sense. But if you let her go...” I took a breath and put my arms out in front of me as if being arrested, then pulled them as far apart from each-other, stretched to either side as they could reach. “If you let her go you can do whatever you want to me___in payment of that debt.”

I must admit the speech did not have anything LIKE its intended result. Our host cast his eyes to the ground and actually backed away from me. “This surprises you.”

“Yes, what is she to you? Who is she to you?”

“Someone as precious to me as my own daughter. I don't expect you to understand; I barely understand. But I would DIE before I let her come to harm.”

Oliver Queen's FIRST Hero

                                 An Alternate Arrow Flash first meeting

Oliver Queen stared at the young man, a look of utter confusion on his face. It seemed like a better option than absolute incredulity. He'd seen this man before...in the bunker. Officer Lance and John Diggle stared mildly as this kid who looked like he should have been in high school walked up to them, apologizing for being late to a crime scene.

“Great, who the hell are you?” Officer Lance asked the kid.

“And do your parents know you're out here?” Oliver said with a sarcastic edge.

“I'm Barry Allen I'm from the Central City Police Department I'm from the Crime Scene Investigation Unit. We're working on a case over there with a few similar qualities to this...rather unusual robbery. So my captain sent me down here to see if they might be connected. And you're wrong by the way, this wasn't a team, it was one guy.”

“You mean one man tore through the door, ripped this outta the ground like tin foil?”

“There's only one set of prints in the floor, other than the victims and the bruising on the guards neck is consistent with manual strangulation. It's like he held the guy's neck with one hand and snapped it. Which is a lot harder to do than a lot of people realize...medically speaking I mean.” Barry said in a rush.

'Who is this guy. He's not wrong; whoever did this is juicing steroids on crack. But...”

“What do you think Oliver?” John Diggle said suddenly. “Oliver?” He repeated.

“I think things are getting interesting. I'd like to hear more about what is going on here.”

“Oliver I'm pretty sure we all would.” Felicity said casually.

“Ms. Smoak, a word?” Quentin Lance said in his quiet but urgent tone. She walked a few steps away with him. “Listen I don't really know what's going on here but I think this is something our mutual friend would be interested in hearing about.” Felicity was forced to smile. It hadn't been so long ago Detective Lance had been pursuing the vigilante as a threat the city needed to be rid of and had had no clue who she was. And now Officer Lance was helping the Arrow catch the bad guys. Moreover, unknown to Lance, the Arrow was already aware of the crime, and solving it on scene with them.

Meanwhile Oliver was having almost as interesting a conversation with Barry Allen. “Is this why you're here?” He urged. “More importantly what the hell is going on?”

“I don't know what the hell is going on. And figuring that out is why I'm here, yes.”

“We have a very pointed conversation in our very near future.”

“The kind at the end of an arrow or the more colloquial kind.” Oliver started to glare at him. “I didn't mean that as a threat. I'm just a little nervous, sorry.”

“Well that's fair enough. And no, I'm not threatening you. But I am curious.”

“Understandably. I just don't thing this is a particularly good time to have this talk.”

Oliver looked around and his collaborators, each of whom saw Barry as a complete stranger. And realized in an instant that the guy had a point. “Alright, fair enough. But soon, like tonight maybe? Verdant, 9 pm?”

“Yeah I'll...I'll be there.

“You're going off to have a drink with that guy?” Officer Lance said casually.

“Just maybe he won't be so weird in a non-crime-lab setting.” Oliver explained.

“That guy oozes weird Oliver.” Quentin Lance said with a shake of his head.

“...Don't disagree.” Oliver replied as he walked away.

John walked a couple of steps behind Oliver as they left the building. “You know that kid?”

“We've Met. Something tells me I'm going to be seeing a lot more of him lately.”

“Someone we need to keep our guard up around?”

“At least until we can figure him out.”

Barry Allen had been in town for 2 days. In that time he had managed to save the Arrow's life, show up at Queen Industries with a lot of really good answers for everything and fanboy over all the cool gear at the bunker. He had also managed to introduce himself to John, Felicity, Quentin and Laurel Lance and give very different impressions to each of them. Oliver had to admit, that last one was probably just because each of his friends would look at a person differently, and be looking at different markers. Now Officer Quentin Lance hadn't noticed anything particularly wrong with the guy, except that he was one weird kid. John had kept his opinions mostly to himself but agreed they needed to keep their guard up around him for now. Laurel had laughed at his cuteness and Felicity was glad to finally have someone to speak geek with. After calling Captain David Singh of the CCPD and confirming Barry Allen does in fact work for him as a part of the Crime Scene Investigation Unit, Oliver was willing to give Barry the benefit of the doubt. Especially after Barry had given him leads on where to find 3 of the criminals involved in various heists around town and an analysis of the DNA of the man who had left him flat on his back and hallucinating. But Oliver had a feeling that Barry showing up at the bunker, learning who was under the hood and then a crime scene where something impossible had just happened was simply too coincidental to be a coincidence.

And the only question was whether he was trying to be an actual cop and solve these crimes, or was involved. “Barry is not good at answering questions, fortunately I am good at finding answers.” So he left to keep a particular eye on the kid. Except the kid wasn't anywhere around. The Flash was. Taking down the Dragons of the South Side with some of the most efficient non-lethal force he had ever seen. Oliver couldn't hear a word come out of the young man's mouth as he literally sped around bashing guys on the top of the head or nailing them square in the back. Then Oliver drew his bow. “Slowly turn.” Was all he said.

The Flash turned slowly around, hands up and apart. “You are unmistakably the one they call The Arrow.” The Flash said in a disguised voice. “Starling City's silent Guardian.”

“You are the hero of Central City. The speedster they call The Flash. And now that we've gotten introductions out of the way, tell me what you're doing here in my city?”

“I'm helping out a friend and he's helping me.”

Oliver relaxed his grip on his bow. “Barry Allen. That's why he's here...for you?”

 “Barry Allen, he wants to do good and I trust him. So when I work with the cops it's through him and Detective West. When I need a cops help, I go to him specifically.”

“You don't do a very good job of protecting your friends.”

“He's proud of it. Of being able to help more than just official cases that come across his lab desk. And considering how he never shuts up about you. I doubt he'd mind.”

“How well does he know me? And how far.”

“He wouldn't even tell me your name. And hes' pretty good at investigating and solving any problems that are as impossible as I am. Can I put my hands down now?” Oliver lowered his bow and pointed it to the ground. “Look, I realize he can be pretty fanboy. But he's a good kid. Don't shred him okay?”

“A man in a mask and voice changer asking me to give someone else the benefit of the doubt is kind of a stretch.”

Flash's face hardened, and if possible his eyes narrowed.. “Then how bout figuring him out first, passing judgment on him later.”

“...That I can do.”

“Listen whoever you are...Barry Allen, is a science genius and a loyal friend. He can help. If you're worried he told me who you were...he didn't. He's as honest as they come. Otherwise I wouldn't keep him around.”

“That doesn't exactly inspire my confidence.” Oliver replied. “But I take your point.”

“Why no mask?” Barry said offhand. “Not to tell you how to do the vigilante thing, but the grease paint you use is a poor identity concealer.”

“So find me a mask which conforms perfectly to my face and doesn't effect my ability to aim while I'm on the run.”

“You should look into a compressible micro-fabric. It could be great.” Barry said with his charming yet infuriating grin.

“Flash was right, you do know your stuff.”

“You're not the only one who thinks of me as a baby-face. Almost everyone at CCPD thinks I'm too young for the job. If I wasn't so good at it I wouldn't have it.”

“Who is Detective Joe West?”

Barry let his jaw go slack. “How do you even know that name?”

“The Flash said when he needs a cop's help he goes to Detective Joe West. Which usually means enlisting your help. So who is he?”

“He's the man who raised me. We are Deep in 'too personal for comfort' territory.”

“I don't disagree.” Oliver said quickly. Then he gave a small chuckle. “Someone telling me I'm getting too personal for them. That's a switch.”

Oliver looked at Barry from across the bunker. There was something about him Oliver just didn't like. The Flash had vouched for him which had been more than enough to throw any 'he might be a bad guy' thoughts a million miles from his mind. Something was still off about the guy.

“Barry, can I take to you for a second?”

“Yeah sure.” The two of them walked off about 12 paces. “What's up man?”

“I'm not the most trusting person in the universe as you might have noticed.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“I have a hard time trusting anyone who keeps themselves so closed off. Who shs so little of themselves. I need to know...Why are you doing this?” Strangely Barry Allen showed no signs of offense or injury. He merely slumped his shoulders a little bit and said. “Wait 3/10's of a second.” And ran away. And in one-third of a second the Flash was standing in front of him. The man didn't say a word. Instead he pulled his cowl back revealing...Barry Allen. “Everything I told you before was true. Both as the Flash and as myself. Well, obviously Captain Singh did not send me here on official business that was made up. But you already knew that.”

“You saw something 'meta' happening outside your town, decided to investigate?”

“Well...yeah pretty much.”

“I don't understand, why reveal yourself?”

“You mean other than you of all people understood what it meant to live a double life?” You were right. I can't ask you to trust me if I don't trust you. And one thing you'll probably learn about me pretty fast is that I'm as trusting as you are cynical.”

“Yeah that part I already knew. But it honestly still doesn't answer my question..”

“Yes it does. There's a kind of weirdness happening here that I thought only happened in Central City. I was thinking some meta creeped there way over here. But whoever is responsible for this isn't altered in that way more - whacked out.”

“The world is a much more complicated place than people are comfortable believing.” Oliver said agreeably. “So what do you say the two of us figure out the story of this whacked out nut-job...together.”

“I'm agreeable. In fact I have a science friend who could probably help with that.”

“Another adorable nerd like yourself?” Felicity Smoak said from Barry's left. The both turned to look at her. “I'm sorry you guys 'covert argue' very noticeably.”

“This has been an interesting day.” Oliver said under his breath.

“Harrison Wells.” Barry said comfortably.

Felicity smiled. “What, The Harrison Wells? I mean THE Doctor Harrison Wells?”

“He's the reason I'm any hero at all. He gave me my powers. Yes Dr. Harrison Wells.”

“He gave you your powers, how the hell did he do that?”

“Not on purpose. Remember the Particle Accelerator that went nowhere?” Felicity and Oliver both nodded. “Well apparently it actually did do something. It broke a barrier in reality and let exotic particles into our world. Including dark matter. People who get infected by that stuff, become meta-humans. Like me. I have another question to answer...who Detective West is.”

“You already answered that one Barry.”

“But I think you should hear the whole story.” Oliver gave a respectful nod. And put his hands at his sides. “My parents were murdered when I was 11. Joe adopted me. I was a kid who loved math and chemistry growing up and not very physically strong. So when I went to join him at work, it was as a CSI not a proper cop. I have a nine month gap in my head from when I was in a coma and when I woke up I had speedster powers. Dr. Wells has been looking out for me, training me ever since. Coming here to fight crime, is something I'm doing for myself. Can you understand that?”

Oliver walked up to Barry and pulled the cowl back down over his head, symbolically making him the Flash again. “I can understand that very well. Now let's get this guy.”

More Story Prompts

Wrote a scene based on this image. Titled. "You're not the only one who wants to help people...Oliver." Which would have been bold calling the Bruce Wayne of Star City by his first name. A subtle way for Barry to say 'there's more to ME than you think as well." Imagine if Barry was already the Flash here and Oliver just didn't know it. Pretty much the only way to improve the episode, right?

Still from Arrow Season 2 episode 19 Three Ghosts.

 The core of my Superman Defeated story. 

One of two Superman stories that came from a single core phrase:

With his head still bowed Superman looked into the eyes of a man he still didn't believe he hated, but hated the mere idea of liking. "You have no reason to harm her. I don't think you even want to. What must I do, for you to let her go."