Chapter 2– Forgotten Thunder
The first thing anyone heard was the silence after the blast.
Then the screaming started.
Officers scrambled to their feet as the lights flickered above the bullpen. Files spilled across desks, coffee mugs crashed to the floor. The building trembled with aftershocks of the explosion that had erupted in the sky moments ago.
And then someone shouted from the upper level.
"Call an ambulance! We've got two down!"
Within seconds, boots pounded against metal stairs. Flashlights flicked on. Smoke drifted from the hallway that led to Barry Allen's lab.
When they burst through the shattered door, they found the room bathed in a sickly glow. Sparks snapped from broken machinery. The unmistakable smell of scorched chemicals hung in the air.
Barry Allen lay in the center of the room, his body soaked with fluorescent chemicals, still and pale.
But he wasn't alone.
On the far side of the lab, Dante Hart was crumpled against the wall—legs twisted awkwardly, smoke curling from his jacket. A thin red trail of blood ran from his temple down his cheek, and his chest barely moved.
The medics arrived within minutes, rushing Barry into a stretcher. "He's still breathing!" one of them called out. "Pulse is weak, but steady!"
"What the hell happened?" an officer asked.
Nobody had an answer.
Another medic looked at Dante, frowned, and shouted for a second stretcher. "Got another one. This one's been hit too. He's younger—burns on the arms, vitals unstable."
As they wheeled Barry and Dante down the stairs, heads turned, eyes wide.
Some whispered.
But most stared at Barry.
"Isn't that Joe's kid?"
"He was working in his lab??. Wasn't he at STAR Labs tonight?"
"What about the other guy? That's the janitor, right?"
"Didn't even know his name."
No one asked about Dante.
No one rode with him in the ambulance.
---
Central City Hospital – Three Hours Later
Fluorescent lights hummed. Nurses moved from bed to bed. Doctors barked orders. Outside the emergency ward, Joe West paced, rubbing his hands together, eyes locked on the glass where Barry lay unconscious.
"He's stable," the doctor said, "but his brain activity is unusual. Almost like... it's rewiring itself. We don't fully understand what happened."
Joe nodded, jaw tight. "He's a fighter."
Across the same hallway, separated by a thin curtain, Dante Hart lay in another hospital bed.
No visitors came.
No friends asked for him.
His chart read: John Doe – Unknown Condition.
The burns on his body glowed faintly under the monitors. His red eyes were closed. Every now and then, a flicker ran down his fingers, like static trapped in his bloodstream.
But nobody saw.
---
Months Passed.
Nine long months.
People talked about the accelerator accident like it was a myth, a ghost story. The city slowly returned to normal. STAR Labs went dark—its reputation tarnished, its promise broken.
Until one morning—
Barry Allen's eyes opened.
---
STAR Labs – Recovery Wing
The room was sterile but bright. Machines beeped softly. Barry blinked against the light, wincing.
"Where…?" he murmured.
Harrison Wells rolled forward in his wheelchair, flanked by Cisco Ramon and Caitlin Snow.
"You're awake," Wells said, his voice calm. "Welcome back, Mr. Allen."
Barry tried to sit up, and failed. His muscles were weak. His brain felt foggy. "What… happened?"
"You've been in a coma for nine months," Caitlin said gently.
Barry's mouth went dry. "Nine... months?"
"We brought you here after the incident," Wells added. "You were exposed to something unprecedented. Your body has undergone... changes."
Barry stared down at his hands.
He didn't feel different. He felt... hollow. Like the world had moved on without him.
But later that day, when he tried to walk—and tripped—he didn't fall.
He caught himself.
At super speed.
---
The Next Day
Barry stood outside Joe's house, awkward in his too-tight clothes. Iris opened the door and gasped.
"Barry?!"
He smiled. "Hey."
They hugged. Joe stood behind her, stunned and speechless.
"I heard you were awake, but I didn't believe it," Iris said, tears in her eyes. "They said you might never come back."
Barry shrugged, overwhelmed. "Well… I did."
Joe pulled him into a hug, gripping his shoulder like a man who'd nearly lost a son. "It's good to see you, kid."
They sat down, talked for hours—about the storm, the coma, what he remembered. Barry didn't mention the speed yet. Not yet.
But something scratched at the back of his mind. A flicker of memory, faint but sharp.
There was something he was missing.
---
Later That Night
Barry walked through the empty city, hands in his pockets. The wind was cold. Neon lights buzzed above.
He found himself outside STAR Labs again, gazing up at the broken windows.
"They saved me," he whispered.
But why?
Why did he survive?
And then—
He remembered.
The sound of the door opening.
The smell of smoke.
The flash of red hair.
Dante.
Barry froze.
"There was someone else."
He could see it clearly now. Just before the bolt hit him, he remembered hearing the door burst open—Dante rushing in to clean. And then—
Lightning.
Not one strike.
Two.
"Oh my god," Barry muttered. "He was hit too."
---
Back at the Hospital
In a dim room where the lights flickered overhead, Dante still lay in the same bed.
Unmoving.
Alone.
His chest rose gently. Machines hummed. The glow under his skin had dimmed, but not disappeared.
A nurse passed by his chart, barely glancing at it.
"Still under," she murmured.
But none of them knew what was happening inside him.
Beneath his skin, something stirred.
The storm hadn't left him.
It was just waiting.
--
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