Caitlin Snow ignored the joke and kept her eyes on the road.
"S.T.A.R. Labs isn't exactly accessible right now, so I'll take you to my place for some preliminary tests first." She hesitated. "By the way—hypothetically—what if someone got struck by lightning, didn't die, and fell into a coma instead? A coma lasting nine months. And when they woke up, their body showed no signs of atrophy or degeneration whatsoever. Everything completely normal. Do you think that's... possible?"
She glanced at Jack.
"You mean Barry Allen?" he said casually.
The car screeched to a halt.
Caitlin stared at him. "How do you know that name?"
"I know a lot of things. Drive."
She started moving again, doubt and curiosity warring on her face.
"He's already awake, isn't he?" Jack asked lightly.
Caitlin nodded. "He woke up. I wanted to run more detailed tests—nine months in a coma after a lightning strike, his body has to have changed somehow—but he left before I could."
"Don't worry. He'll be back soon."
Jack's real purpose here was the Speed Force.
The Speed Force was broken. Absurdly overpowered. Super speed was just the beginning—it enabled time travel, phasing through solid matter, and a dozen other abilities that made no physical sense. The Flash family treated the timestream like their personal playground, and Barry Allen himself had created the Flashpoint catastrophe trying to save his mother, rebooting reality multiple times in the process.
His talent for causing problems was genuinely impressive.
But Barry was the source. The moment he'd connected to the Speed Force and become the Flash, that connection had rippled across time and space, spawning speedsters throughout history. The Speed Force only generated energy when speedsters ran. Barry running meant power for everyone tapped into it.
Case in point: Harrison Wells, current head of S.T.A.R. Labs. His true identity was Reverse-Flash—a speedster from the future who'd traveled back in time to kill Barry, accidentally murdered Barry's mother instead, and gotten stranded in this era when he lost his Speed Force connection. Now he had no choice but to mentor Barry, push him to run faster, because that was the only way to generate enough energy for his own return trip.
Which raised an interesting question.
If Jack copied Barry's abilities and gained access to the Speed Force, would he be dependent on Barry's connection like Reverse-Flash was? Or would he generate his own independent Speed Force?
Convenience was nice, but Jack hated being dependent on anyone. Getting stranded in some random era because his power source decided to stop running would be insufferably boring.
If it's independent, great. If not, I'll just throw Barry into the Speed Force to act as a human battery. Better use for him than being the King of Ls.
Every episode, Barry shamelessly declared himself the fastest man alive. In practice, he was the fastest man to get humiliated. Slower than other speedsters? Sure, that happened. But sometimes he couldn't even catch a car. Against non-speedster villains, he'd get beaten down repeatedly before pulling some last-second comeback through sheer willpower and dramatic timing.
The fastest thing about Barry Allen wasn't his speed. It was how quickly he took losses.
Ring ring ring—
Caitlin's phone cut through the silence. She slowed the car, reached into the back seat for her bag, and answered.
"Cisco? What's up?" She listened, then glanced at Jack with surprise. "Got it. I'm heading back now."
She hung up and looked at him strangely.
"Barry's back at the lab. I need to go."
"I'm guessing you can't bring me along."
Caitlin smiled apologetically.
"Drop me off near the lab," Jack said. "Give me your address. I'll come by tonight."
She rattled off the address while turning the car around.
Jack got out where she'd picked him up and watched her drive back toward S.T.A.R. Labs. He didn't leave.
If he was right, Barry had just discovered his powers. Jack had nothing better to do. He'd wait for the speedster to emerge and copy the Speed Force then.
About an hour later, a tall, thin man walked out from the far side of S.T.A.R. Labs. Bookish-looking. Unremarkable.
Barry Allen.
"King of Ls," Jack murmured, lips curling. "Let me be your first."
He followed.
Barry was walking in a daze—still processing, probably. Jack closed the distance quickly, threw an arm around his shoulders, and shoved him into the nearest alley.
Barry stumbled, barely caught himself, and whirled around with an angry glare.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?"
"Robbery," Jack said solemnly.
"Rob—wait, wait, wait." Barry blinked. Pointed at himself. "You want to rob me?"
His expression shifted from confusion to something like disbelief—like he'd just won the lottery.
"Are you sure? Out of everyone on that street—all those people—you picked me?"
"You seem happy about this," Jack observed.
"Happy? I'm thrilled! This is incredible. Okay, okay—" Barry bounced on his heels. "What's your weapon? Knife? Gun? What are you using?"
Jack raised his fist. "How about this?"
"Fists?" Barry's eyes lit up. "You know boxing? Come on, hit me! Do it!"
He was practically vibrating with excitement, eyes locked on Jack's hand.
Just got superspeed and immediately runs into a mugger. Lucky day for him.
Jack threw the punch.
The world stopped.
Or rather—it slowed. Jack's fist crawled through the air like it was moving through honey, the motion stretched across what felt like several seconds.
Barry walked casually around the incoming blow, smirking. He wound up his own punch, already picturing his attacker flying backward from the impact.