Chapter 10: Chapter 10: Building Trust – Coffee, Conversations,(REMAKE)
Chapter 10: Building Trust – Coffee, Conversations,(REMAKE)
The air in S.T.A.R. Labs, usually buzzing with scientific fervor, was now thick with the aftermath of Clyde Mardon's escape. Barry was frustrated, Joe was grim, and Caitlin and Cisco were poring over data, trying to make sense of the impossible. Adam, meanwhile, was strategically positioned by the coffee machine, pretending to fix a minor glitch (a skill he'd gained from a particularly frustrating encounter with a vending machine).
"You know," he mused, holding up a component. "This whole 'metahuman' thing is going to be a real headache for Central City's insurance companies. And probably for anyone who owns a dry cleaning business. Imagine the stains."
Cisco snorted, despite himself. "You're still here, dude? After almost getting crushed by scaffolding?"
"What can I say?" Adam shrugged. "I'm a glutton for punishment. Or maybe I just really like the free coffee. Though, honestly, this stuff tastes like it was brewed in a shoe."
Caitlin looked up, a worried frown on her face. "Adam, seriously, you should be resting. You had a concussion, at least."
"Minor concussion," Adam corrected. "My 'Minor Impact Absorption' skill really kicked in. Plus, my brain is already so scrambled from the sheer weirdness of my life, a little extra jostling barely registers. It's fine. Really."
He winked at her, and she just shook her head, a small, almost-smile playing on her lips. He was getting there. Slowly but surely, he was chipping away at her cautious exterior.
Barry zoomed in, looking dejected. "I couldn't catch him. He just… disappeared into the storm."
"He'll be back," Adam said, pouring himself another cup of the terrible coffee. "Bad guys always come back. It's like a contractual obligation. But next time, you'll be ready. You just need to figure out how to use that speed of yours, not just as a reflex, but as a weapon. And a tool."
Wells, who had been silently observing from his wheelchair, spoke up. "Mr. Stiels has a point. Speed is not merely about velocity, Mr. Allen. It is about control. Precision. Understanding the forces at play."
Adam felt a shiver. Wells. Thawne. The man who would become Barry's greatest enemy, sitting right there, offering sage advice. It was surreal. And terrifying. Adam subtly shifted his gaze, trying to dissect Wells's expressions, looking for any tell, any flicker of the evil beneath the façade. His "Enhanced Observation" was working overtime, but Thawne was a master of deception.
"Speaking of forces at play," Adam said, turning to Cisco. "That 'Weather Wizard' name? It's catchy. But what about 'The Flash'? Has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Short, punchy, and describes exactly what he does. Plus, it's already got a built-in fan base."
Cisco's eyes lit up. "The Flash! Dude, that's brilliant! Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because you're too busy thinking about science and pop culture references," Adam said, grinning. "I'm just here to connect the dots. And occasionally, to provide morally questionable naming suggestions."
Barry, who had been listening, looked at Adam with a newfound respect. "The Flash… I like it."
"See?" Adam said, gesturing dramatically. "I told you I was a valuable asset. I'm basically a human focus group. For superheroes."
Later that day, Adam found Barry alone in the main lab, nervously trying to use his speed to clean a beaker. The beaker ended up shattered.
"Rough day?" Adam asked, leaning against a console.
Barry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just… I don't know what I'm doing. I'm fast, but I'm not a hero. I'm just… me."
"And 'me' is pretty good, Barry," Adam said, genuinely. "Look, you're going to stumble. You're going to fall. You're going to break a lot of beakers. Probably a few bones, too. But you're also going to save a lot of people. You have a good heart, Barry. That's more important than any superpower."
"How can you be so calm about all this?" Barry asked, looking at him. "You almost died yesterday."
"I've had worse hangovers," Adam deadpanned. "Look, I've seen some things. And I've learned that sometimes, the best way to deal with the impossible is to just… roll with it. And maybe make a few jokes along the way. It helps."
He paused, then lowered his voice. "And speaking of impossible… you know, that Dr. Wells is a brilliant guy. Absolutely genius. But… there's something about him. A little too… knowing. A little too calm. Just keep your eyes open, Barry. Not everyone is who they seem."
Barry looked at him, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Just a feeling," Adam said, shrugging, trying to make it sound like a casual observation, not a cosmic warning. "My 'enhanced common sense' is tingling. Trust your gut, Barry. It's usually right."
He walked away, leaving Barry to ponder his words. The seed was planted. A tiny, almost imperceptible seed of doubt about Wells. It was a dangerous game, but he had to play it. He had to prepare them. Because the real Reverse-Flash was lurking, and he was far more dangerous than any weather wizard. Adam just hoped his three lives per killer would be enough when the time came to face the man in the yellow suit.
" Okay, Adam, you're doing good. Barry's listening. Cisco thinks you're cool. Caitlin thinks you're crazy but intriguing. And Wells… Wells is watching. That's the scariest part. He's probably already running simulations on how to get rid of you. Time to start planning some strategic deaths to level up. Because if I'm going to be a human shield, I need to be a better human shield."