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There was something magical about Cathedrals. Once you were inside, walking past the pews, even alone it was like the ghosts of the choir songs bounced off the walls. The stained glass didn’t cast shadows on the room, but lights that danced and moved with the sun. As a child, Barry spent his afternoons in the church, running through the aisles, learning hymns, and talking with spirits that lingered, though most people thought he just had imaginary friends. He strolled towards the confessional booth and stepped inside. “Forgive me, Father,” he said, “for I have sinned. It’s been…” He pursed his lips in thought and a chuckle came from the other side. “It’s been eleven years since your last confession. And you’re not Catholic.” The wall between them slid open, and Barry’s Uncle Jay grinned. “How’ve you been, Bare?” Barry shrugged. “Same, I guess.” “We both know that’s a lie, or you wouldn’t be here. What’s troubling ya, kid?” Barry sighed. Where to start? “Something...happened, a few weeks back.” “You mean that demon thing you had me help with?” Barry nodded. “Yeah. A lot happened, but I think...I think I finally have some answers, about what happened to Mom.” He noticed his uncle shifting nervously in his seat. Barry knew that it wasn’t something Jay liked to talk about. His mom’s suicide caused a chain reaction that nearly ripped the remains of his family apart. If it hadn’t been for his uncle, Barry could’ve ended up in foster care or worse. “I know,” he said quickly. “I know you want me to drop it. It’s a dangerous rabbit hole that destroyed my dad. But, when I was investigating that house, something happened. I had a series of visions.” Jay frowned. “Visions? You’ve never had visions before.” “I know. It started when I met this demonologist. At first, I thought I was just having daydreams or something, but then, at the house, the incubus showed me something. I saw The Demon.” Jay’s eyes widened with fear. “The one with the yellow eyes?” Barry nodded again. “During the seance we held, it took my mind for a moment. It threatened me, told me that it would take everything I love.” Take Len, but Jay didn’t need to know that. “I think...I think that it’s what killed my mom. I think it made her jump.” “Barry,” Jay said, his voice forced calm, “if you’re right, you need to leave it alone. Demons don’t just target people for no reason.” “The incubus called me the most powerful medium in a hundred years,” Barry pointed out. “Maybe that has something to do with it. It also said a name. Eobar--” “Don’t speak it here!” Jay hissed. Barry’s mouth shut with a click. “To say a demon’s name is a powerful thing, Barry. In its presence, it gives you power of them. But to just speak it invites it to roost. Be careful, and don’t speak it.” The priest blew out a breath. “I don’t mean to snap, but these are serious topics, Barry. Sometimes, Pandora’s box needs to stay closed.” Barry understood that. His uncle wanted to protect him. Had protected him for almost his entire life. “I don’t wish to talk of demons anymore,” Jay said in a lighter tone. “Tell me about this demonologist. I want to know if he’s good enough for my nephew.” Barry smiled. Jay always knew how to make him feel happier. “He’s...he’s wonderful. I knew from the second we touched hands, Uncle Jay. He’s the one for me. But…” “But what?” “He’s had so much darkness in his life.” Barry sighed. “I don’t want to darken it with my own demons. He doesn’t even know about Yellow Eyes. He just thinks some higher level demon was screwing with us at the Ramon house. How do I even approach him with it? ‘Hey, I think I love you. By the way, there’s a demon latched onto me, has been since I was a baby. That’s cool, right?’” “If he’s the one for you, he’ll understand and love you all the same.” “It’s not like having a dog. I have a demon who wants to murder everyone I care about.” “And it sounds like this guy…?” “Leonard.” “-- Leonard is used to dealing with demons. Maybe you’re underestimating what he’s willing to face to be with you.” He hated thinking that maybe his uncle was right. The more logical side of his brain, however, whispered that a demon was too much baggage. Even demonologists don’t want to come home to work. “The two of you went on a date, didn’t you?” Jay asked. “How did that go?” It was perfect. Len came to Barry’s apartment with pizza and old science fiction movies. He wrapped an arm around him while they sat on the couch, but didn’t go any further. They didn’t talk much--neither felt they had to. There was something so comfortable about each other’s company. Barry dozed off in Len’s arms, and when he woke up the next morning, he was tucked in bed, television turned off, trash taken out, with a note on his bedside table with Len’s phone number. Barry sighed and fell back against the wall of the booth. “I’m so screwed.” “That good, huh?” Barry laughed humorlessly. “It was perfect-- he was perfect. I really like him, Uncle Jay.” Jay smiled. “Then be with him. Barry, you can’t let fear decide whether or not you get to be with the one you love. That’s when evil wins. Call him.” Barry nodded and pressed his hand against the grate between them. “Thanks, Uncle Jay.” “Anytime.” His uncle’s smile fell a bit. “By the way, I got a call today. I think you should visit your father. There’s been an incident.” An incident. Those were never good, especially in regards to their family. “When?” “The day after the exorcism.” Right then, Barry knew they were about to get retaliation. ---------- Leonard Snart was in love. Head over heels, writing poetry love. The date with Barry was small, simple, sweet, but also perfect. Laying out on Barry’s couch, holding him in his arms, Len felt like they were an old married couple or something. Before he met Barry, he’d never even considered love in his future, but now...well, watching the medium fall asleep in his arms almost had him running out for an engagement ring. Why did Barry make him so crazy? He stepped into the hotel room he and John shared and froze. Their bags were packed. The religious icons were put away. All the soaps and little shampoos were stuffed into John’s suitcase. This wasn’t good. John strolled out of the bathroom, whistling to himself and throwing his trenchcoat back on. When he noticed Len, he grinned. “Ah, Len. Just got a call about a particularly dastardly spirit in Canada. If we drive through the night, we might be able to make it.” He knew what John was expecting--Len would grab the bags and take them to the car. They would both leave without a goodbye to anyone, and wouldn’t return until the next supernatural occurrence in Central. For the first time, Len stood his ground. “I’m not going this time.” John raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Why not?” “I’m not through in Central.” John stared at him in disbelief for a minute before laughing. “Is this about the tart you banged? The medium? God, he can’t be that good of a lay, can he?” Len scoffed. “It’s not like that. We aren’t like that. Barry’s...he’s different than anyone I’ve ever met. I can’t leave him. I’m staying.” John didn’t seem to buy it. He wasn’t exactly a loving person. He believed in carnal pleasures and the occasional repeat performances, but as for flowers, chocolates, and whispered confessions in the night, it may as well have been a unicorn for the Hellblazer. Mythical and only believed in by children. “So, you’re going to give up all of your training for a shag?” “First of all,” Len corrected, “there was no shag. I’m not going because of something deeper than that--something I don’t understand yet. Second, I’m not giving up my training. I’m skilled enough to do things on my own.” At that, John actually full-on laughed in his face. “You think because you exorcized a little incubus by yourself that you can take on anything the devil’s got cooking?” Len didn’t answer. Instead, he sat at the end of the bed and raised an eyebrow. John sighed. “Fine. I’m still gettin’ the hell outta here. Call me when you got your head back on straight.” He grabbed his bags--leaving Len’s behind, thank god--and blew out of the room. ---------- The Central City Mental Health Sanitorium was a state of the art facility. The words ‘sanitorium’ or ‘asylum’ brought disturbing and unethical images to the mind, but Barry was overjoyed that his father was in a place where he could get the care and attention he deserved. There was no electroshock or lobotomy. No gruesome procedures unsuitable for viewing by the outside. There was medication, therapy, and open visiting hours for loved ones, which had been a deciding factor for Uncle Jay when choosing the perfect hospital for his twin brother. Barry signed in and took a seat in the waiting room. While he waited, he pulled out his phone to check for messages. Len texted him once a day, always with some kind of sweet message that made him smile. Nothing yet, but it was early in the day. “Mr. Allen.” He raised his head. Dr. Harrison Wells was standing in the door to the waiting room, a kind smile on his face. Barry rose to his feet and strolled over to the doctor. Barry was eternally grateful to Dr. Wells. He’d been Henry Allen’s doctor since Barry was sixteen, and he never denied Barry when he came to visit, even if Henry was having a bad day. “Hi, Dr. Wells,” he greeted, stepping into the hall. “Uncle Jay told me you called.” Wells nodded. “Yes...your father has been calling out for you. He keeps yelling that you’re in danger. I thought that, perhaps, if you came to visit, it might put him at ease.” That made sense. Barry worried, though. His father’s condition had started deteriorating in recent months. It used to be that he always knew who Barry was, even if he didn’t recognize him immediately, and was able to hold a conversation with his son, if only for an hour or so. The last time he saw him, however, was the first time Barry had been truly scared of his father. He started yelling and screaming, throwing objects at things that weren’t there, calling for Barry’s mother. Barry’d left in tears that day. That was four months ago. “He mentioned an incident?” Dr. Wells sighed. “Two weeks ago, your father stole a marker from one of the doctors. It was a mistake on their part--they shouldn’t have even had it where a patient could get it--but that’s been rectified since. Anyway, the next morning, one of the orderlies came in to give your father his medication. It was clear he’d been up all night, the marker he’d taken was dry. And he drew pictures all over the walls…” Dr. Wells opened the folder he’d been carrying and pulled out a stack of photos. Barry flipped through them, his eyes widening with each picture. His father was no artist before his sickness--Barry still had the terrible drawings he’d gifted his mother back when they were dating--but since, he made the most beautiful drawings Barry had ever seen. The drawings he’d made on his walls were familiar to Barry--probably because most were of him. One was of Barry and Len’s seance at the Ramon house. One was of Barry staring in the mirror in Dante’s room. There was another of Barry and Len holding hands in front of Uncle Jay. Then, there were pictures of things Barry didn’t recognize. A man with the face of an animal. A young man with black eyes. A doll with an evil face. In the center of it all was a pair of great, yellow eyes. “Do these mean anything to you?” Barry shook his head. There was no use being truthful about the supernatural to medical doctors. They couldn’t do anything to stop it, and they would only think that Barry was crazy if he suggested that his father was seeing things outside the walls of the sanitorium. They approached Henry’s room. He’d never shown any signs of real violence, so Wells didn’t mind letting Barry do his visits in the privacy of his father’s room. He knocked and opened the door. The walls had been scrubbed clean since the incident, leaving them sterile white and empty. Henry sat cross-legged in the middle of his small bed, staring at nothing. The only thing decorating his room was a picture frame on the tiny dresser by the bed. In it was a picture of Barry when he was in third grade. “Henry?” Dr. Wells said. “Someone’s here to see you.” Barry approached his father and sat at the end of the bed. “Hey, Dad. It’s Barry.” Henry’s attention moved from the middle distance to Barry. His gaze was still far away, though. “No, my son isn’t here. My son is in London.” Barry frowned. He’d never even been to London before. “No, Dad. I’m right here with you.” He took his father’s hand, but Henry didn’t even seem to notice. “I’m so proud of him, you know. He’s doing good things--God’s work. He’s in so much pain, though. It’s trying to take everything from him...leave him alone and isolated until he has no chance.” Barry’s heart froze. He couldn’t let Dr. Wells know that the words filled him with dread. That they weren’t the ravings of a mentally ill man, but of a man who saw something. “Dad, who? Who is?” He needed to know. He had to. His dad shook his head. “It was in the nursery. The night she jumped, it was there. It stood, watching you, taking her soul as a price until you were old enough to offer yours. The eyes cut through my soul, carved me open, filled me with things I never should know.” Suddenly, it hit Barry--he said ‘you’. Henry’s eyes were focused on Barry’s face now, full of frantic terror. “Eobard.” A chill sliced through him like a knife. The demon’s name...could it be its true name, the one that gave control? Or was it a name just used to instill fear into others? It didn’t matter either way--he had a name. Henry’s arms shot out and grabbed his shoulders. “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti--” “Henry…” Wells’ voice was stern and warning, but Henry didn’t even pay attention. His grip on Barry’s arms tightened. “Agnus dei, qui tolis peccata mundi,” he continued. “Gloria Patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto...Anima Christi. Sanguis Christi. Pater Noster...Ora pro nobis.” “Henry!” “Dad?” Barry asked. “Dad, you’re hurting me.” But Henry’s grip tightened even more. Tears started to run down his face. “Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa...Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa…” Wells was at Barry’s side in an instant, prying Henry’s hands off him. Henry didn’t fight it--instead, he released Barry and returned to staring off into the middle distance, blankly and far away. “Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa...Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa…” ---------- Barry sipped on his tea, filling his body with a warmth after that shaking encounter. Dr. Wells poured himself a cup from the pot in the center of his desk. They were in his office, a place Barry had only been in a handful of times--usually when Henry was having problems. “I’m sorry you had to witness that, Barry,” he said with a sigh. “I really thought your presence would help. I didn’t think it would get that kind of reaction out of him.” He took a sip from his cup. “Henry...he’s not usually like that, even in his worse moments. He’s never gone on unintelligible ramblings or even mentioned the night your mother…” He trailed off. He probably thought mentioning Barry’s mother was a sore spot. It wasn’t--to Barry, she was a woman he’d never met. Someone he’d always been curious about and wanted to meet, but he had no memories of her to grieve over. “They weren’t ramblings,” Barry said instead, stirring his tea thoughtfully. “What he said at the end there, he was speaking Latin.” Wells frowned and leaned forward. “They were Catholic phrases--things used in prayer, mostly,” Barry explained. “ Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, that kind of stuff.” “I didn’t think your father was a religious man.” Barry laughed to himself. “He isn’t. But he and my uncle were both raised together in the Church. I don’t know exactly what happened, but around the time I was born, my father turned his back on religion and my uncle decided to take up the cloth." Wells nodded. “And you?” Barry sighed thoughtfully. “There is a God out there. I’m not arrogant enough to say that I know His name or story as the only truth. There’s only one thing I know for certain--there is good and evil in the world, constantly at war for our mortal souls. Whoever wins is the side we act on. My uncle is a priest, but he’s never forced me to believe anything, except in myself.” A small smile pulled on Wells’ lips. “Sounds like your uncle is a great man.” “He is,” Barry agreed. “He made sure I had a place to live in the Church orphanage, watched out and cared for me.” “That must’ve been hard.” Barry shrugged. “It was my life. Everything happens for a reason, and you’re never given more than you can handle.” Wells stared at him for a minute and then started to laugh. “Do you always talk like those signs in the window of Christian bookstores?” Barry laughed and shook his head. “Honestly, probably.” Dr. Wells tilted his head with a grin. “I believe this is the longest conversation the two of us have had. Usually, I’m speaking to your uncle.” “Well, I’ve been trying to ease the burden off his shoulders a bit. I’m twenty-two years old. It’s time I start helping my family.” “That’s very mature of you. Maybe we’ll see more of each other.” The doctor was looking over him like he was really seeing Barry, and Barry did his best to fight down a blush. “Maybe we will.” Barry’s phone beeped. He smiled to himself when he thought of whatever nice thing Len had to say. He rose to his feet. “Thank you for everything, Dr. Wells. If there are any other changes, please let me know.” Wells cleared his throat and rose to his feet, professional once again. “Of course, Mr. Allen. Your father is a model patient, eccentricities aside.” He strolled over to the office door and held it open for Barry, who scurried out with a quick thank you. The corridors were well known to him, so he knew the way out like the back of his hand. He pulled out his phone and checked his messages.
Len: May have done something drastic. Dinner tonight to talk about it?
Len never wrote in shorthand. It was an endearing thing that made Barry smile even wider.
Sent: Anytime. Yours or mine?
Len: Definitely yours.
Barry was so enraptured by his phone, he didn’t even notice someone walking out of the rooms until they collided, knocking each other to the ground in a cloud of thrown paperwork. “Oh my god,” Barry said as he frantically helped pick up papers. “I’m so sorry. I was texting and not watching where I was going.” “It’s okay. No harm done.” The woman he’d run into was young, black, and pretty. She was probably Barry’s age, and she was dressed as a nurse. Her badge said ‘Baez’. “Really, I’m so sorry,” he repeated, handing back the papers he’d collected. The girl paused as she accepted the papers, her eyes narrowing. “Hey...aren’t you Barry Allen?” Barry frowned. He was positive he’d never met this girl before. “Um, yeah.” “I’m Shawna. I did some classes at Central University. I’m friends with Caitlin.” Barry’s suspicion lowered drastically. “Oh, that’s nice.” “Yeah….” She bit her lip and glanced around, making sure they were alone. “Actually, there’s something that maybe I’d like to talk to you about. If I told anyone else, it’d sound crazy, but Caitlin told me a little of what happened at her house. With the whole…” she lowered her voice dramatically, “demon thing?” “What is it?” he asked. This is what he’d been afraid of, letting people know about his gifts. People approaching him, thinking every creak and bang in their house was a demon and asking him to investigate. But looking in Shawna’s eyes, she seemed truly scared of something. Whether it was supernatural or not, he needed to hear her story, if for no other reason than to put her at peace. He noticed her hands were shaking. Her lip was twitching ever so small. “It’s my boyfriend...I think there’s something wrong with him.” Barry reached out to calm her, and suddenly, he was pulled away from the sanitorium. He was standing in an apartment, an old one from the poorer section of Central. There was a crip in the corner, where a baby laid sleeping. Behind it, a man lurked, shushing the baby and watching it sleep. It wasn’t the man that frightened Barry, though. Behind him, slightly obscured by the curtain, was a dark, horned creature with endless holes for eyes. Barry released Shawna’s arm and fell away. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to getting visions. Shawna gaped at him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. “You had a vision, didn’t you? You really are psychic.” “Shawna,” he said slowly, “I need you to tell me everything.” ---------- Shawna Baez and her boyfriend, Mark Mardon, moved in together almost a year ago after she found out she was pregnant. Mark’s brother, Clyde, moved in with them to help cover the rent and to become a live-in babysitter for them after. The hauntings began not long after. Things would move into rooms they weren’t in before. Their radio would turn on at random times during the night. The shower would turn on, and they could swear they all heard humming. It was all pretty harmless, so they ignored it. Then, Mark started having nightmares about their baby. He’d be sitting in the baby’s room, rocking her in his arms, but when he looked down, it was dead, smothered by the blanket. He’d wake up in a cold sweat and screaming, and it’d take Shawna and Clyde nearly an hour to calm him down. After Rosie was born, things died down for a bit. “But something happened,” Barry said, resting his elbows on the hospital cafeteria table. Shawna nodded. “Two weeks ago, we came home from going out to dinner. We could hear scratching on the walls and movement, like someone had broken in. Clyde and Mark checked all the rooms, but there was no one there. When they checked Rosie’s room, though, there were claw marks everywhere, like a bear had just run through the room, and on the roof...whatever it was scratched Rosie’s name.” Her story was a terrifying one. Barry could understand her fear. “Why haven’t you moved?” “We signed a lease,” Shawna explained. “We can’t afford to break that and get a new apartment.” Barry nodded. “Do you mind if I come by your house and look around?” A huge smile grew over her face, and her eyes filled with hope. “Yes. Yes, please. Thank you.” ---------- It was different than walking into the Ramon residence. There was no dark force latched to their backs, but Barry did feel a presence. It wasn’t around the entire apartment, but it had lingered in the halls enough to leave an impression. “Where’s your boyfriend and his brother?” he asked. Shawna motioned for him to follow her into the living area. There were two men sitting on the couch, one holding a baby in his arms. “This is Clyde,” Shawna motioned to the man holding the baby, “and Mark.” The man not holding the baby waved. “Mark hasn’t held Rosie since the dream. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt her.” Mark hung his head in shame. “Who’s this?” Clyde asked, holding Rosie closer. “This is a friend of Caitlin’s. He helped her and Cisco with their...problem. I thought he could help settle whatever’s going on here.” “Nothing’s going on,” Clyde argued. “There’s no such things as ghosts and demons. How much is this con artist charging you?” Barry frowned. “I don’t want money. I didn’t approach Shawna, she approached me. I won’t intrude on your home if you don’t want me here, but I’d like to help bring you all comfort if I can.” He waited to be shouted at and forced outside, but Mark touched his brother’s arm. “I want him here,” he whispered. “I...I need to know if I’m going to hurt her.” Clyde’s angry expression softened. He gave his older brother a nod. “Okay. Fine.” Barry nodded. “I promise that I will do only what all of you are comfortable with. For now, I’d just like to maybe walk through the house, take a look?” Clyde rose to his feet. “Okay. But I don’t want him going off alone in our apartment.” That was fair. Barry was a stranger, and this was their home. They had a baby, they were scared, and there were horrible people in the world. He smiled. “I understand. I swear I’m not here to hurt anybody or steal anything. I’m just here because Shawna asked me to be.” Clyde grunted and strode out of the room, handing Rosie to Shawna as he passed. “I’ll take you through. It’s not a big apartment, so this shouldn’t take long.” Barry followed behind him, focusing on the energy in the house. He sensed a lot of love and strength, but he also felt a crawling sensation up his back. It didn’t feel demonic, but it felt mean and ruthless. “How does this work?” Clyde asked, not even bothering to look at him. “You pretend to see some things, say there’s a ghost, then charge a fee to do some sage and get rid of it?” Barry smiled to himself. “Actually, I prefer burning cedar and then sage. I find that cedar removes negative spirits, while sage cleanses the energy so it can’t come back.” Clyde snorted. “Is there some kind of crackpot school for that?” Barry shook his head. “No, the priests in the orphanage I grew up in did.” Clyde stopped. “Oh. Sorry.” “It’s okay,” Barry assured. “You didn’t offend my faith or anything. I only grew up Catholic because of my uncle. They tend to be a bit superstitious, but I get why people are skeptical.” “I don’t need someone taking advantage of Shawna and Mark,” Clyde explained. “They’re the only family I have left.” Barry laid a hand on his shoulder. “I swear, I won’t draw this out. It may be nothing. If it is, I’ll leave. But if it is, you need to be prepared, okay?” Clyde sighed but nodded. “Okay,” Barry said. He turned towards the first door on the right and turned the knob. “Okay, what room is--” Before he could finish his question, though, everything went black. ---------- When Barry woke up, there was a loud, repetitive beeping. His head was pounding. When he opened his eyes, the movement was sluggish and difficult. He was in a white room. The lights were off, but a single lamp cast a dim glow. His eyes focused, and he realized he was in a hospital. He frowned--the last thing he remembered was checking out Shawna’s apartment. He tried to sit up, but his head was pounding. He hissed and fell back against his bed. When his eyes finally focused, he realized he wasn’t alone. Len was asleep in the chair by his bed. There was an empty chair beside him, which Barry could only assume Jay had been in at some point. Barry smiled--Len’s head was on the edge of the bed, his hand right beside Barry’s, like he’d been holding it until he finally passed out. He reached down and squeezed his hand. The demonologist snorted adorably, his head shooting up as he shook himself from sleep. “Barry?” he blinked once, twice, then his eyes widened. “Oh my god, you’re awake.” Barry licked his lips. They were dry. “How long…?” he croaked. Len rushed to grab a cup of water with a straw from one of the trays sitting around and held it to his lips. “You’ve only been out for a few hours. The doctors say you’ll be okay, but they want to keep you overnight.” Barry frowned, trying to remember how he’d ended up injured. “What happened?” “Well,” Len sighed, sitting the cup down, “these two guys brought you in, said that you fell. There was a lady with them, who told me and your uncle that you were doing a walkthrough of their house, trying to see if it was haunted. You tried to go into the baby’s room, but the second you opened the door, whatever is in that house threw you so hard, you dented the wall.” “Yeah, that sounds about right.” His back ached, and it was no wonder his head was pounding. “Where’s Uncle Jay now?” “He’s back at the apartment with your friends. Or clients...I’m not sure what they are. They were kind of tight-lipped about that part.” “Shawna’s a friend of Caitlin’s,” Barry explained. “She asked me to check out something that’s been bothering her and her family.” “And by ‘something’ you mean a demon.” “No.” Len seemed surprised, but Barry knew what demons felt like. This didn’t have that heaviness, that feeling of impending doom. This felt more like yelling. Like when two people were furious with one another, and you were trapped in a room with them. “No?” Len repeated, frowning. “No, it’s not a demon. They’re being tormented by an angry spirit--a poltergeist. And it’s pissed and nasty.” ---------- The next morning, Barry woke up with Len lying next to him on the hospital bed, his arm thrown over Barry’s torso like he could shield him. Jay was sitting at his bedside, watching them with a smile. A few hours later, he was discharged and given some pain pills he wasn’t going to take, and Len and Jay were helping him into the passenger seat of the car. “Where to?” Len asked, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Shawna’s apartment.” Len glared in his direction, but Barry wasn’t budging. “Look, that poltergeist is going to hurt them. It’s a parasite, feeding on the negative energy in the house. It’s stirring nightmares and fear, and it’s going to keep on until it kills them.” Jay cleared his throat from the back seat. “I did some research last night, asked around among some of the older tenants. The couple who lived in the apartment before had the police called on them constantly. Domestic violence. The wife never pressed charges, but they would argue all night and she’d come out the next morning with black eyes and split lips. Once, they had to call an ambulance on her because the husband pushed her down the stairs.” “Oh my god,” Barry said. “What happened to them?” “Moved out. Bought a house in California. They’re still alive.” Len frowned. “Then how the hell does that have anything to do with this spirit?” Jay looked to Barry expectedly. Barry sighed--as a child, Jay would test Barry’s abilities by bringing him to places with different levels of energy. Never haunted places, but historical places. Abandoned places. Places with residual energy. He taught him about how that energy affected people, even people who weren’t sensitive to them. “Poltergeists aren’t human spirits. They’re manifestations of negative energy that’s formed into an entity all its own. But that doesn’t make sense, Uncle Jay.” He turned towards the back seat. “There’s almost always a child involved in poltergeist cases. Usually, they’re created from a child’s trauma--molestation, abuse, abandonment.” “Unless that husband did something so traumatizing that it created this thing on its own,” Len pointed out. That’s when it hit Barry. “What if the wife was pregnant when he pushed her down the stairs? Suffering a miscarriage, losing her baby, that would be enough. That level of anger and hatred she would’ve felt…” “...and it explains why it’s tormenting Mark more than the others,” Jay finished for him. “Remember the Bell Witch?” 1817 to 1821. William Bell and his family were tormented by a poltergeist notoriously known as The Bell Witch. It was believed to be created by the oldest daughter’s anger and hate towards her father, who people believed was molesting and raping her. When he died, the family claimed the witch herself had killed him. “We’ve got to get to that apartment, now .” Len nodded, punching the gas so hard, Barry thought he almost put his foot through the floor. ---------- When Shawna opened the door, Barry made no explanation as he pushed his way inside, Len and Jay on his heels. “Barry, you’re alright,” she said. “We were worried…” “I’m okay, but you guys might not be,” he warned. “Where are Mark and Clyde?” Shawna frowned. “Putting Rosie down for a nap...why?” In the heart of the activity. Damn it. He sighed. “Get them, get Rosie, and get out of here.” Shawna’s eyes widened. “Why? What’s happening?” “The thing terrorizing your family is a spirit that wants your husband dead and doesn’t care who it hurts to make that happen,” Len explained bluntly. “We’re going to take care of it, but you and your family need to get out of here for that to happen.” Shawna nodded. “Mark! Clyde! Bring Rosie!” she shouted, grabbing her coat off the couch. The two brothers came running out at her frantic tone, the latter holding Rosie close to his chest. “What the hell--?” Mark asked, before noticing who else was in the room. “Barry? What’s going on?” “We’ll explain later,” Jay said. “Right now, we need to get you out of here.” He began corralling them towards the door, but, when Len tried to step out, it slammed shut in front of him. Doors slamming themselves was never a good sign. “Is there any other way out of the apartment?” Barry asked. Shawna shook her head. “There’s an eight-story drop out the window,” Clyde spoke up, “but I wouldn’t recommend it.” Suddenly, the house fell quiet, the negative energy dropping on Barry’s shoulders like a dumbbell. He collapsed to his knees, his chest tightening like it was in a vice. He tried to breathe, but the poltergeist was pissed, and it wanted him to know it. Len fell to his side, stroking his back to calm him down. “What do we do?” he asked Jay. Jay frowned. “Have you ever done an exorcism on a house?” Barry and Len both looked up at him with confusion. “This isn’t a demon!” Barry argued as best he could. “Why would that work?” “Because it’s not about sending it to Hell,” Jay explained. “It’s about making the apartment uninhabitable for the negative energy. If I can bless the house, it might be enough to run the poltergeist out. But I need a hell of a lot of positive energy from everyone else.” A lamp from the living room crashed beside where Mark stood. Shawna screamed. Clyde shushed Rosie. “How are we supposed to do that?” “You have to stand together,” Jay explained. “Leonard, help Barry to his feet. We all need to gather in the heart of the haunting.” Barry didn’t want to--he wanted as far from the poltergeist as possible. His head was throbbing, his eyes were burning, and he felt like he was going to die. Instead of helping him up, though, Len scooped him into his arms. “Come on!” he urged. They all ran towards Rosie’s room, but when they opened the door, it was like a scene from a Tobe Hooper movie. The crib was thrown to the floor. Dolls and stuffed animals circled the air like a cyclone. The window and closet door started to open and shut frantically. Jay removed his rosary and held it in front of him. “I need you all to pray with me, but more importantly, focus on the positive energy of your family. It will counter the negative and hopefully run it out.” Shawna, Mark, and Clyde huddled together with Rosie in the center. Len pulled Barry closer in his arms. “Heavenly Father,” Jay started, “We love You, We praise You, and We worship You. We thank You for sending Your Son Jesus Who won victory over sin and death for our salvation. We thank You for sending Your Holy Spirit Who empowers us, guides us, and leads us into fullness of life. We thank you for Mary, our Heavenly Mother, who intercedes with the holy angels and saints for us…” The rest was drowned out by a voice echoing in Barry’s mind. “You cannot save them...you can’t save anyone…” The image from the exorcism burned behind his eyes--Len dead on the floor in front of him. Barry crying over him. The demon lurking around them. “Barry…” A new voice whispered. No, not new. Len was whispering to him. “Barry...you’re going to be okay. We’re going to get out of this.” Barry forced his eyes open and realized the exorcism was going wrong. Jay was still praying, but Mark was across the room, unconscious on the floor from where the poltergeist had thrown him. Rosie was crying. Shawna was curled up on the floor, yelling for the spirit to stop. Clyde shielded her and Rosie from the debris. Then, he looked up at Len. Len, who didn’t seem worried at all. He was staring down at Barry, eyes full of an emotion Barry was afraid to name but knew too well. Because he felt it, too. He reached up and touched the demonologist’s face. He didn’t say the words. Neither did Len. But, like a miracle, the weight of the negative energy started to lift. Jay turned away from the poltergeist’s fury and stared at them, eyes wide. Clyde and Shawna did the same, and Rosie’s crying silenced. The room grew bright for a moment and warm, like the sun had suddenly decided to appear in the center of the room. A screech echoed through the apartment. The walls started to shake. Then, it was over. ---------- When Barry woke up, he was in an unfamiliar bed, yet again. This time, however, he knew where he was. It was Shawna and the rest’s apartment, lying in their bed. The apartment was clean now. All Barry could feel was the love in the house. He smiled and slid out of the bed. As he stepped out of the bedroom, he was greeted by the distant sound of joy--conversation, laughs, and general merriment. He padded down the hall and stopped in the doorway into the living room. Mark was holding Rosie in his arms. Shawna was cooing over her baby girl while curling up beside her boyfriend. Clyde sat in the recliner, talking to Len about something they both found hilarious. Jay was gone, but that didn’t surprise Barry. After a few seconds of watching, Barry stepped into the room. Everyone went silent, their attention turning to him. Shawna smiled. “How are you feeling?” “Better,” Barry assured. “How about you? Mark, you took a bad hit.” He shrugged. “I’ll live. As long as the two women I love are safe, I’m always okay.” Len rose to his feet and approached Barry. “We’ll be out of your hair now. Call us if you need us again.” Weirdly, he started pushing Barry out the door before Barry could even say goodbye. Once they were outside and in the car, he turned to the medium and narrowed his eyes. “What the hell was that?” Barry frowned. “What was what?” “When we were trying to get rid of the spirit...Barry, you glowed. It was like, a split second, but I know what I saw. You had this...this light around you.” “Did anyone else see it?” Len shook his head. “Not that they’re telling me. I asked your uncle, but he just laughed. Was that, like, something you can always do?” Barry shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Len. I honestly don’t remember much. Just you whispering to me.” That was a lie. Barry knew exactly what it was, and if he had to bet, he’d say that he wasn’t the only one who glowed. Some energies were so strong that no amount of negative energy could dim it. Even unspoken, what they had was powerful. It was something that should’ve terrified Barry, but instead brought him more comfort than he’d ever felt. For the first time in his life, he didn’t feel so alone. Len rolled his eyes and turned back in his seat. “So, where to?” Barry grinned. “I’m a bit hungry after all that. How would you feel about coming to my apartment and splitting some takeout?” Knowing how Len felt, Barry knew he wasn’t going to say no. ---------- Their date was just as wonderful as the first. Instead of takeout, Len cooked for spaghetti for them. They curled up on the couch again, only they watched An American Werewolf in London this time. Len fell asleep first, and Barry didn’t have the heart to wake him up. So, they stayed together on the couch for the rest of the night, curled in each other’s arms. It should’ve been perfect. But Barry found himself sucked into a restless sleep, darkness and hate filling his mind.
You think you can beat back the evil, but you can’t. You think your light is enough, but it will fade. I will smother it and devour every ounce of goodness and love from your life until you beg for the sweet release of death. Then, I will take that from you as well.
Tick-tock, Barry Allen. You can’t save everyone.
He shot out of his dream. Panting for breath, he clawed at his ears, trying to rip the voice out of his head. Then, he realized the dream hadn’t been what woke him at all. His phone was ringing. Checking to be sure he hadn’t woken Len, Barry grabbed his phone off the coffee table and answered. “Hello?” There was heavy breathing on the other end. “Barry?” He frowned. “Shawna? What’s going on? Is the poltergeist back?”
“No...it’s Clyde. He’s acting really weird and hostile. And his eyes...they’re black.”
Barry swallowed hard. His hands started to shake. “Shawna, don’t let anyone near him. Get Rosie as far away as you can. I’ll be there as soon as possible.” He grabbed Len’s keys off the counter on his way out, not even bothering to put on shoes in his hurry. This couldn’t mean what he thought it meant. It had to be a side effect of the poltergeist. Had to be. He wasn’t a good or technically licensed driver, but he didn’t care. It was an emergency. He sped through the streets and prayed he got to the apartment on time. He pulled up on the curb and jumped out of the car, taking the stairs two at a time to get to the eighth floor. When he got to Shawna’s apartment, she and Rosie were already standing outside the door. “What’s happening?” he asked. “Where are Mark and Clyde?” Shawna was trying to compose herself, but Barry could tell she was terrified out of her mind. Something bad was happening in the apartment. Something worse than the poltergeist. “Clyde...he has a gun. He held it on me and told me to call you. Then, he shut himself in Rosie’s room. Mark’s trying to talk him out, but he was different, Barry. His eyes…” “You said they were black.” “Only at first,” she said. “When I went to leave, they turned yellow.” Barry’s entire body went rigid. He didn’t think that his demon would be this bold so soon, but he was an idiot. He should’ve listened to his dreams, to the warnings it gave him. Without another word, he ran inside the apartment. As Shawna said, Mark was standing outside of Rosie’s room, banging on the door and trying to get inside. When he saw Barry, he started shaking. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him…” “I do,” Barry replied. “Go outside with Shawna and Rosie. I’ll do what I can for Clyde.” Mark hesitated but nodded. Once he was outside the apartment, Barry knocked once on the door. “It’s me.” It swung open by itself. Clyde was standing on the other side of the room, his back to Barry as he stared out the window. Barry stepped inside. “I know who you are.” “And you think that knowing that will send me back to hell?” the demon asked, turning to face him. His eyes were yellow and slit, like a snake’s. A cruel smile pulled at his lips. The gun was still in his hand, but Barry knew it didn’t need a gun to kill him. And this demon didn’t want him dead--not yet. “Those are the rules, aren’t they?” Barry replied, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Names have power. To know a demon’s name is to have power over it.” The demon shrugged. “Most demons. In fact, the mass majority. But not me. I’m a hell of a lot harder to get rid of.” He stepped away from the window, strolling closer to Barry with that cruel smile still marring Clyde’s face. “Little Barry Allen, all grown up. Your uncle warded me away for a little bit, teaching you how to control your powers and lock them up inside of you. But you’ll never get away from me.” “Is that why this is happening now?” Barry asked. “Because I started using my abilities to help people?” A deep chuckle shook the room. Barry stumbled backward, scared of how powerful this demon really was. “No. It doesn’t matter how many souls you save. How many wins you get. The number of demons you send away. What I care about…” the demon stepped even closer, close enough where he could grab Barry by the chin. “...is that you finally have something I can take from you.” Barry’s heart sank to his stomach. The demon laughed at the fear in his eyes. “I mean, Daddy’s crazy, Mommy went splat. You have your uncle, but as much as you care about him, you’re never quite sure if he sees you as a family member or as a weapon for God, do you? But Len,” he licked his lips, “little Leonard Snart is something special. Love at first sight. Love powerful enough to blast away a poltergeist. And you two haven’t even said the words yet. Think about how powerful it’ll be once all of that love is out in the open.” He tightened his grip on Barry’s face. “And think about how delicious it’ll be when I rip it all away from you. You’ve seen it. Broken and lost and alone. All except for me.” He chuckled darkly and released Barry. The medium fell to the floor and let out a shaky breath. Just being this close to the demon made him feel sick, weak, and vulnerable. It seemed to love that. “You might as well enjoy the time you have with him,” the demon continued, squatting in front of him. “Because I will kill him. It doesn’t matter how far from him you run, or how much you push him away. So, enjoy the love of your life, Barry. You deserve it.” Barry shook but still raised his head to meet the demon’s eyes. “Eobard. You’re Eobard.” Eobard smiled. “I am. But you won’t find a word on me in any of your books. And you won’t find a way to stop me before I ruin your life. In fact…” he clicked the safety off the gun, “I should get started on that. See you soon, Barry.” He raised the gun to Clyde’s head. Barry shouted and tried to grab for it, but it was too late. It went off. Blood spattered, coating his face with his own failure. Then, Barry collapsed into an emotional mess. ---------- He was sitting in the back of an ambulance when Len arrived, running on foot towards him. Barry pulled his shock blanket closer around him and lowered his eyes. He couldn’t even look at Len without seeing that image Eobard had planted. Now, it was joined with Clyde Mardon’s dead body lying at his feet in his baby niece’s bedroom. Shawna and Mark hadn’t even been able to look him in the eye. He didn’t blame them. They didn’t know how, but he knew they could sense that Clyde’s death was on him. Len slowed to a stop when he saw a paramedic. They talked for a few seconds, and then Len headed over to Barry. He didn’t say anything, just took a seat beside him. Barry knew he wouldn’t demand an explanation--not right now, anyway. Len was considerate like that. But Eobard and his words still haunted him. So, he took a deep breath. “I told you that my mother committed suicide when I was a baby.” Len frowned but nodded along. “I didn’t tell you everything. She was a medium, like me. It’s where I inherited my gift from. My dad was there when she jumped. He used to say that there was a demon in there with her, one that compelled her to jump. He said that it was after my soul, but babies can’t agree to give up their souls. So, it took my mom’s instead. My dad started to go crazy after that night. He said that the demon looked into his soul and started destroying him from the inside out. He got committed when I was five. “I grew up in a Catholic orphanage because my uncle wasn’t allowed to take me in without giving up his priesthood. But the nuns started to notice something a few years later--every time they took a picture of me, there was a pair of yellow eyes staring at me, always moving closer and closer. So, my uncle taught me how to use my power and how to close my mind off to dark spirits. The eyes disappeared. At least, I thought they had.” Len reached out and took Barry’s hand. He knew he should be crying, but all he felt was numb and empty. “It talked to me tonight. It possessed Clyde and told me that it wants you dead because you’re the only thing I care about. The only person I…” He cut himself off. This wasn’t how he wanted to say it. Len seemed to understand, though. “Then, it killed him to prove a point. It can hurt anyone I save. For each time I use my power for good, it opens those people up to a fate worse than death. And the demon gets a little closer to getting what it wants. I just...I thought you should know what you’re getting into, getting so close to me. Len…” He turned to stare into the man he loved’s eyes. “Eobard is going to come after you. I’ve seen it, and I can’t stop it. I’m sorry.” He expected anger. For Len to run away and never come back. For him to blame Barry and shout. Instead, Len leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Don’t blame yourself for what that demon does. It’s what it wants--to torture you and make your life miserable. To stop you from doing good. Don’t let it dim your light, Barry, because I’m not going anywhere. I’m with you.” He moved his lips from Barry’s forehead to his lips and kissed him deeply and passionately. Barry whimpered when he finally pulled away, just enough to put an inch of space between their lips. “Because I love you.” ---------- Jay sat in his office, flipping through the scrapbook Nora had made for him all those years ago. Before priesthood, before she became Mrs. Henry Allen, back when the three were inseparable. It amazed him sometimes how much Barry reminded him of Nora. He thought about what could’ve been. Sometimes, he lived in those moments. What if he and Henry hadn’t gone on a mission trip to Romania? What if Jay hadn’t gone missing for months, leaving Henry to come home and comfort the woman they both fell in love with? He wondered if Henry knew the truth about Barry. If either of them knew why Jay decided to join the priesthood less than two months after returning. He and Henry took the train into Bucharest, then a carriage out to the small village at the foot of one of the mountains. There was a nearby abbey, and the Church often sent missionaries to help in the village. That year was different. The abbey was quiet. No one wanted to talk about it. Jay and Henry were sent their second week in to speak with the nuns...but Jay didn’t remember much after going inside. All he knew was that he’d apparently gone missing for six months, and then he woke up in a Romanian hospital after being found in the woods by a villager. When he got home, Henry and Nora were married. She’d believed he was dead and took comfort in his twin. But Jay knew her heart belonged to him. Nora knew it, too. They made a mistake. One that Henry never knew about. One that Jay hadn’t meant to give into, but it was like every cell in his body was screaming for it. That was the first and only time he’d ever seen the demon in person. He woke up to it standing at the end of the bed, yellow eyes piercing his soul. The next day, he decided to take up the cloth. He’d carried something evil back with him from Romania, and he refused to infect the ones he loved with it. He hadn’t even realized it was too late until Henry announced that Nora was pregnant. Pregnant with Jay’s son, though Henry didn’t know that. Barry didn’t know either. It was a secret that Nora took to her grave, and Jay kept between himself and God. He cursed himself. He thought he could protect Barry from what he’d done. Now, he knew he was wrong. He’d played into the demon’s hands, and now, the ones he loved were paying for it. He closed the scrapbook and put it back in his desk drawer. He’d brought a plague on his family, but he knew, deep down, that Barry was the one who had to get rid of it.
END