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brown-little-robin · 11 months

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42: Dog with Two Owners

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Thad wakes up blearily. It’s really bright. His head hurts. He groans and throws his elbow over his eyes. He must have fallen asleep outside the nutrient womb. Feels like he’s laying on a computer or something.

“CRAYDL, turn down the lights.”

Silence.

Max Mercury’s voice says, “Are you awake?”

Oh.

“Yes.”

He keeps his elbow over his eyes. His cheeks are burning. Where is he and who just heard him talking to CRAYDL? The last thing he remembers is being on Joseph’s lap in the lair. Did he lose time, or just fall asleep?

Thad sits up and eases his arm away from his face, letting his eyes adjust to the sunlight. He’s above ground somewhere he doesn’t recognize, surrounded by concrete blocks and rubble. Max and Joseph are looking at him searchingly. He suppresses the urge to hide his face again.

The surrounding pile of rubble looks like the aftermath of a fight or something, but Max and Joseph seem calm.

Joseph smiles at him and signs, “You fell asleep. I texted Max to come get us.”

No fight, then. Good. Relieved, Thad allows the adults to coddle him.

Max holds out his hand, and Thad lets the man pull him upright. Joseph asks if he can touch him, and when Thad nods, Joseph hugs him. Not just a quick hug, either. Joseph holds onto him. Thad buries his face in Joseph’s shirt. He feels hidden. Safe, for the moment.

Max asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Thad reluctantly disengages from Joseph. “I can’t tell if the experiment did anything permanent to me.”

The white lightning has died down to his usual yellow, and the unnatural happiness is gone. Thad reaches for the void in his chest, the thing that Raven said was where a lightning rod was supposed to go, and can’t even tell if it’s there. He just feels embarrassed, and, under that, empty. Empty, empty.

His CRAYDL is dead and Thad isn’t even mourning it. Doesn’t have the capacity.

Thad is so close to being safe from the Allens forever. All he has to do is go to Doctor Morlo to get examined, which was part of several agreements he had to make to get this far. And then, provided his new lightning rod isn’t killing him, he can move in with Joseph. Today.

“Can you bring me to the lab, sir?”

“Of course. Come on.”

Max holds his hands out. Thad approaches him, conscious of Joseph watching. He hates this. He feels like a dog with two owners. Who is he supposed to obey? Who is he supposed to wag his tail for?

He allows Max to pick him up and carry him to Morlo’s lab. Max sets him down on the exam table and touches his cheek gently. Torn between the instinct to flinch back and the aching emptiness that makes him want to lean in, Thad just freezes. Max smiles sadly.

“You did good. I’ll be back soon.”

It takes longer than Thad expected for Max to return. He looks around the lab, idly refreshing himself on the equipment layout, and wonders what Max is doing. Probably reporting to the other speedsters. Bringing Joseph back to the house, too. There’s no reason for Joseph to be in Nevada when Thad will be delivered to his house soon enough.

Examination, then goodbyes to Max and Helen, then being taken to Joseph’s house. Then he can relax.

Thad shivers. It’s cold down in the lab with only a t-shirt and shorts.

Doctor Morlo comes in at last, clumping heavily down the stairs. Alone. He sets down his suitcase with a huge sigh.

“Well, boy,” he says. “You survived.”

“I survived,” Thad agrees.

Morlo nods. Then he puts his hands on his hips and stretches, grumbling quietly. Thad is content to watch.

“How do you feel?”

“Full report?” Thad isn't really feeling up to all the joking he usually does with Morlo, but he's content enough to relish the words. He likes play-acting, too serious or too casual, around Doctor Morlo. The "doctor" gets it.

“Full report,” Morlo agrees.

“Physically undamaged. No bones broken, no muscles torn, no nerve damage that I can tell. But I was hit by lightning, so it’s worth running a test, probably.”

“What about your powers?”

“I don’t know definitively yet. I need to do more testing. They changed… not permanently, though, I think.”

Thad tells Morlo about speaking to the spirits. He describes, as best as he can, the spirit that took him into the blank white space and then touched him, throwing him back into physical space. He leaves out the part where it called him beloved. That’s… private.

“My trace lightning was white for a few minutes. You know—what sparks from speedsters as they move?”

“I know. Is it back to yellow now?”

“Yes.” Thad frowns at his hands. “I think I was faster with the white lightning. Fast enough to outrun Wally West, although of course his top speed varies based on his emotional state. And I was… I was so happy…”

Thad’s throat closes up.

Morlo clears his throat loudly and clumps over to his minifridge. He tosses Thad an apple juice over his shoulder.

Thad catches it perfectly, of course. He tears the little plastic opening with his fingernail. Destroying something helps him focus again.

Morlo asks, “Any guesses about why?”

“Because I wasn’t afraid. I think I wasn’t physically capable of fear right then.”

“I meant the powers, but good to know.”

Thad flushes. “Right. I… I don’t know, but I felt like the white lightning was a gift. From the spirit.”

“You’re catching Mercury’s Zen thing,” Doctor Morlo grunts.

“I am not!”

Morlo shrugs. “I’m joking. Anyway, electricity overload, possible nerve damage, and your powers changed? Sounds like we should run a plate test.”

Morlo hooks the metal plate he uses to test Thad’s vibrational and speed abilities to one of his machines. Thad follows his directions perfectly, as always. His powers are working perfectly, forcing the world slower and faster at Thad’s whims. His lightning sparks and shines as poison-yellow as ever. It’s a relief.

Morlo starts to put the plate away, then turns around abruptly.

“Wait. You were hungry?”

“Yes. I ate… fourteen food packs.”

“How big?”

Thad gestures with his hands. “About the size of a 21st century granola bar.”

Morlo frowns. “Hmm. It could be the massive energy expenditure of communicating with this “spirit” of yours. Or your heat-shield aura trying to protect you from the lightning tunnel. On the other hand… it could be a symptom of something… bigger.”

Thad’s stomach sinks. He should have realized hunger was a bad sign. Being hungry is not normal for him anymore.

“You’re right. I haven’t had much of an appetite since I was in the speed force,” he confirms, and then realizes that he’ll have to distinguish his… reappearance… in June from his recent brush with the speed force. “I mean, since I…”

“Ran away?”

Thad winces. He can’t exactly refute that.

“You make it sound so petty!”

Morlo shrugs. “If you have a better thing to call it, let me know.”

Thad sits silent. Everything he can think to call it would be… dramatic. ‘Revoking my existence’ would be most accurate… ‘running away’ will do fine.

Morlo puts the plate away.

“I need your blood. I’ll run some tests.”

Thad straps his arm into the cuffs and strains to keep himself at normal speed. He hates feeling the needle go in, and the weird coldness of getting his blood drawn disturbs him. He’d rather just cut himself and let the wound drain, but Green Lantern was disturbed when he did that in the Watchtower.

Morlo holds up the vial of blood and grins at it.

“Mad scientist,” Thad teases him.

Morlo guffaws. “Little villain.”

Thad grins.

Doctor Morlo separates his blood into several vials, then pours some of it into what looks like a bunsen burner. Thad could come over and watch, but honestly, he’s tired. His own inertia keeps him lying on the exam table, waiting.

“So, Max tells me you still have that Inertia suit.”

Thad tenses. His arm pulls against the cuffs again, not vibrating, just digging the metal into his arm.

“Yes.”

“Ever think about trying it on again?”

“No!”

Thad stares at Morlo’s back, feeling nauseous. What did he do wrong? Why would Doctor Morlo think he wanted to be Inertia again?

“No,” Thad says, quieter, uncomfortably aware of how rough—how evil—his voice sounds. “I don’t want to be Inertia. I swear.”

“I said trying it on, not being Inertia.” Morlo looks at Thad over his shoulder. He doesn’t look angry, just curious. “No interest in spandex at all, though? Not even to make your own vigilante identity?”

Thad hesitates.

“I… I don’t…”

If these metal restraints were any sharper, he’d be bleeding. It feels far away. He’s staring at the back of Morlo’s white coat, only half perceiving it.

“I don’t know… I’m… useful, I know I could be useful, hypothetically. I’d be an incredible asset. But… even the issue of running aside, I don’t… want to.”

Pathetic.

“What if I hurt someone? Or what if the Flash got angry at me, or… I don’t want to put myself in a position to make a catastrophic mistake. I’d be done for.”

But Thad would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t… thought about it. Being… a hero. Being someone useful, confident, adored.

He got a taste of the hero life when he was Bart. He loved being “Impulse”. It was so much better than being Bart Allen. He was fast, he was strong, he had a team and a mentor… everyone trusted him…

Foolish fantasies. Thad Thawne was ruined for that a long time ago.

Morlo sets the blood carefully in a rack in the fridge, then comes back and releases the restraints. Thaddeus swings his legs off the bed, grabs his arm, and squeezes where the upper restraint was, just below the elbow. The dull, bruise-like pain gives him something to focus on. Anything is better than the purposeless void of his new life.

Doctor Morlo heaves himself up onto the bed beside Thad. Thad freezes.

Morlo says, “All I’m saying is, it would be good to get you moving again. I’m not trying to pressure you into being a hero or anything. But you need the exercise.”

Thad flinches at the reminder of his failure to keep his body at full functionality. He’s been trying not to think about that.

“You’re a speedster. You have to run. For your health.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t!” Thad snaps. “I know I ran away today, but I wasn’t in my right mind. Running triggers my fight-or-flight response. I can’t let that happen.”

“Work up to it, then.”

Thad shakes his head.

“I can’t do it.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Thad laughs. “I murder someone and get executed for it? It’s not some kind of social anxiety keeping me from going for a nice little run, Morlo. I’m dangerous.”

“Dangerous my sweet butt,” Morlo growls. “Boy, just say you’re traumatized.”

“What’s the difference?” Thad snaps. “I still can’t run.”

Morlo turns and grabs Thad’s shoulders, forcing him to look into his face. Thad goes very tense, heart hammering.

“Listen, boy,” Morlo growls. “You and I are a lot alike, which is how I know you’re making a huge mistake.”

Thad tries to say “Let me go!”, but all that comes out is a whine. Morlo’s hands squeeze his shoulders harder.

“You are making your life into a big drama about mortal enemies and living weapons. It doesn’t have to be that way. Got that?”

Morlo lets him go. Thad covers his face. His arms are shaking.

After a minute, he can speak again. “I’m not like you! You were never a weapon!”

“I don’t have as much excuse as you, but I certainly was a weapon. You studied me, didn’t you?”

Yes, he did, but… well… maybe they are similar. Thad has to admit that Morlo is just as much a potential killer as he is. He was going to kill Max, even.

Morlo huffs.

“Look. You don’t have to start running if it’s that upsetting to you. But you have to know you're allowed to be a person. Pete's sake, boy, your family's not going to kill you if you slip up a bit.”

“Yes they will. I want them to.”

“Thad,” Morlo growls, and Thad glares at him through his fingers. This is about that stupid ‘suicidal’ thing again, isn’t it? Why is Morlo so bent on deciding that Thad’s suicidal?! It’s ridiculous!

“I don’t want to die,” he snarls, hating that he even has to say that. CRAYDL would be disappointed in him for sinking to the point where that’s even in question. “But I can’t be allowed to kill people. I made Max promise he’d kill me if I was going to.”

“This is above my pay grade,” Morlo groans. He gets off the table and goes to the stairs.

“MAX!” he hollers. “A little help here!”

Max appears at the top of the stairs, calm and elegant as always, and Thad sighs in equal parts frustration and relief. Max will know how to explain.

“Max, tell Doctor Morlo I can’t be allowed to kill people,” he demands.

Max gives Morlo a look. Thad waits.

Morlo tells Max, “He thinks you’re just waiting around to kill him or something.”

Thad is offended on Max’s behalf. “I’m trying to tell Morlo that you promised you’d kill me if you had to. He doesn’t believe me!”

“Ah.”

Thad rests his hands on his thighs, waiting for the sweet triumph of being proven right.

“I did tell him I’d stop him if I absolutely had to, in order to save lives,” Max tells Morlo pointedly. “But clearly something got lost in translation.”

Oh no.

Max comes down the stairs and makes eye contact with Thad. Thad looks away. He can’t do the emotional openness thing right now, not while being reprimanded for whatever it was that he misunderstood.

“I’m not going to kill you for making a mistake,” Max tells him. “And neither will Wally, or Jay, or Jessie, or Bart, or anyone else. We don’t kill in revenge, Thad, or as a punishment. We only take a life to save a life. As long as you didn’t mean to hurt anyone else, no one would hurt you.”

That can’t be right. That can’t. What about the vindictive streak of the Allen family? What about justice? What about Wally West?

Thad opens his eyes again, finding his argument. “What about Inertia in the museum, then? The one who killed Bart?”

Max inhales sharply.

Thad continues, a little spark of anger lighting in him, “Bart was already dead when the Flash crippled Inertia. I know that! I heard Wonder Woman say so! You’ve taken revenge before; don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same to me.”

“Thad…” Max sighs. “We should talk about that more later, but that won’t happen to you. I promise.”

“How can I trust you?” Thad spits. Baiting him. His heart’s not really in it, but Thad is good at performing anger.

“It’s not the same,” Max says firmly. “That Inertia was an active risk. And Wally wasn’t in a good place then. Bart had been killed, Thad. We all thought he was gone forever.”

For an insane moment, Thad wishes he was the other Inertia. He wishes he could have been part of a world where Bart was dead and gone and he didn’t have to think about him anymore.

“You thought Bart Allen was dead,” Thaddeus says slowly, savoring the words, rolling them in his mouth like he’s forming them into a knife under his tongue.

He glances at Max. The older man is watching Thad warily.

“Bart Allen, dead and gone…”

Thaddeus’s mouth pulls into a terrible grin. He knows exactly what he looks like. He used to practice his grin of dark triumph in the mirrored surfaces of televisions.

“So why did the Flash have to cripple Inertia?”

Max hesitates one crucial second and Thaddeus launches himself into the metaphorical crack Max left there. “I know he was dangerous, but the Flash could have just taken his speed and left him normal! You claim that won’t happen to me, but are our situations really that different?”

“Yes.”

“No they’re not!”

“Death changes things,” Max says quietly. “I won’t claim Wally was right in what he did, but he was grieving.”

“So what,” Thaddeus hisses, throat burning. “I’m grieving too and I haven’t killed anyone over it.”

Morlo clears his throat. Thad’s eyes snap to him, and for a moment all he can see is how to snap the big man’s neck, sweep his legs out and punch through his stomach, yank him down by the beard and kick his teeth out.

“You’re a good person,” Max says.

No. He’s exactly like every other nameless clone who tried to kill Bart Allen. Thaddeus is cold as ice. Angry as an arctic storm. Empty.

“Liar.”

Max flinches. Doctor Morlo hurriedly turns his back on them and heads upstairs. Good idea.

“Thad, I—”

“I don’t want to hear it. You only protect me because I tricked you into loving me when I was Bart.”

Max’s eyes snap open.

“That’s not true.” Now Max is angry. “Sophos Thaddeus Anacletus Free, that is not true.”

“Then what’s your excuse?” Thaddeus snarls. “Go on, lie to me.”

“I love you like a son,” Max says, low and furious. “Thaddeus, it kills me inside every time one of you clones dies. I would protect you all if I could. But I can’t.”

Like a son!

For a blinding moment, Thad wants to cry.

And then the feeling recedes and Thad is filled and surrounded by that cold emptiness again. What good is Max’s love, anyway? Much good it did any of Thad’s dead clones. Max’s love means nothing. It’s a meaningless promise, just like everything else in Thad’s life.

He sneers, “That’s right. You can’t protect any of us. I’m leaving.”

Thad swings himself off the bed. He knows that he’s about to ruin all of his hard-earned trust from Max, but he can’t bring himself to care. He can’t do this. Sit there and look at Max’s guilty old face and pretend everything is fine. He can’t cuddle and cry with a man who let his clones—his clones!—be killed.

The only emotion that can spark through the clouds of this void of feeling is anger. They were his clones and the Flash and Impulse killed them. He feels like he’s been stolen from.

Max is speaking, but Thad doesn’t care enough to listen to the words. “I want to say goodbye to Helen,” he interrupts blandly, keeping the anger below his icy surface. “But I guess that’ll have to be later. I’m not in the right mood.”

“Thad, wait.”

“Don’t chase me. You don’t want to have to kill me, after all!”

And he runs away.

As Thaddeus kicks into motion, another emotion seizes him. Fear. He controls that too, allowing it to drive him faster but not to drive him out of his intended course. He’s going to New Jersey. He’s going to Metropolis to find Joseph.

And then he’ll never have to run again.

#The Strange Redemption of Thaddeus Thawne #soooooo #I'm... a LITTLE late #but chapter! written!#and I got the flashfam zine piece written too!#I'll be back for real on Tuesday. bye again <33

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