Chapter 15: Pieces in Place
The sunlight touched Central City with a warmth it hadn't seen in days. The chaos was over, for now. But the silence that came after a storm always carried weight. Barry felt that weight on his chest as he stood in front of the hospital room.
Room 20
He raised his hand to knock, hesitated… then did it anyway.
"Iris?" he called softly.
The door opened quickly.
She stood there—wide-eyed, tired, but smiling when she saw him. "Barry…"
He smiled back. "Hey."
iris stepped aside, and Barry walked in slowly.
Eddie sat up in the hospital bed, arm in a sling, bandage on his forehead, a quiet grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Guess I picked a fight with a tornado."
Barry chuckled, forcing the sound. "I heard you were attacked."
Eddie gave a sarcastic laugh. "Attacked? More like yanked out of my car like a toy. My back still hurts."
"I'm glad you're okay," Barry said sincerely, pulling a chair up beside the bed.
Iris sat beside Eddie, watching Barry. She tilted her head slightly. "You seem… better. Less stressed."
Barry nodded. "I've had a rough couple days. But yeah. I'm trying to come back to normal."
"You've been different lately," Eddie said, watching him closely. "Distant. Even before the attack."
Barry looked at him, then Iris. "I know. I just… I've had a lot on my mind. With work. With life. And seeing people I care about hurt…"
His words trailed off.
Iris placed a hand over his. "We're here if you ever want to talk."
Barry smiled. "Thanks."
They stayed in that room for another twenty minutes. Talking. Laughing. Letting things feel normal again. Barry even joked about how bad he was at field hockey, and Iris teased him for always tripping over his own feet. Eddie laughed too—though every now and then, he winced from the bruises.
Eventually, Barry stood.
"I should go. Got a lot of lab work piled up."
"Tell Joe I said hi," Iris said.
Barry paused for a second. "I will."
He stepped outside the hospital and took a breath.
It felt like the world was moving again.
---
STAR Labs.
The doors slid open with a mechanical hum, and Barry walked in.
The familiar buzz of computers and lights greeted him, but it was the people that made him freeze.
Oliver Queen stood near the console, arms crossed, dressed in civilian clothes but still very much the Arrow underneath.
Cisco and Caitlin hovered around the panels, whispering back and forth about energy spikes and data readings.
Joe sat beside Wells, a cup of coffee in hand, both looking up as Barry entered.
And in the far corner of the room—like a statue carved from smoke and silence—stood Dante Hart.
Leaning against the wall, red eyes glowing faintly, cigarette burning slowly between his lips.
Barry stepped forward, eyes meeting Oliver's first.
"Didn't expect you to still be here," Barry said.
Oliver shrugged. "You attacked my partner. I figured I should at least stick around and make sure you didn't go completely rogue."
Barry looked down. "I didn't mean to hurt him."
"I know," Oliver said. "But intent doesn't erase consequence."
Dante spoke then—quiet, rough. "He didn't kill him. That's something."
Everyone turned toward him.
Barry watched the red-eyed speedster. "You're the only reason for that."
Dante took a drag and exhaled. "I didn't do it for you."
Barry nodded slowly. "I know."
Joe stepped forward. "You've been through hell, Barry. No one blames you for being affected by that meta's power. But what matters now is how you deal with the aftermath."
"I'm trying," Barry said, more to himself than anyone.
Caitlin looked up from her screen. "We ran some tests. Your Speed Force levels are stabilizing, but there's still emotional residue. Echoes of the aggression."
Cisco added, "Basically, don't go picking fights. Especially not with Oliver again. Or Dante."
Oliver smirked. "He'd lose."
Dante gave a dry chuckle from the wall. "Yeah. And I'd have to clean up the mess."
Barry glanced at him. For a moment he wanted to ask this question since that night
"Why did you let him drain your power? Why let Farooq nearly explode just to protect us?"
Dante looked confused " what brought that up again" then he sigh, cigarette still burning between his fingers. "I told you. I'm not the hero. I don't save people."
"Bull," Cisco muttered under his breath.
Dante looked away. "You're not the only one who's angry, Barry. But the difference is, I know how to control mine."
That hit harder than Barry expected.
He looked at Wells next. "Where do we go from here?"
Wells adjusted his glasses. "You rest. We monitor. And we prepare."
"Prepare for what?"
Oliver answered, stepping beside him. "Central City isn't going to stop throwing threats your way. But now that Dante's in play—and you've seen what you're capable of when pushed—you need to learn control. Real control."
Barry nodded.
Cisco turned to Dante. "You gonna stick around?"
Dante didn't answer.
He just stared at the cigarette between his fingers.
"I'll be wherever I'm needed," he finally said. "Even if it's here."
Barry stepped toward him slowly. "Thanks."
Dante glanced at him, then shook his head. "Don't thank me yet, Flash. One day I might be the one you have to stop."
Their eyes met—and for a moment, there was silence. Not tension. Not threat. Just understanding.
Two storms. Two opposites. But standing in the same room, beneath the same roof.
For now.
---
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