Maybe it was cheesy to save the world by going out with a Queens song, but if that was wrong, he didn't want to be right. Truly, he didn't want to be anything anymore.
Hartley had never been this aware. Everything. Everywhere. But the only thing that mattered was the music and that it had to end.
There was not supposed to be a red blur. Things went out of order, notes that didn't fit. He knew exactly what was happening, but that was wrong. Time didn't move with him, it just moved around him, like everything else in the world.
Moved around him and then he saw the world adjust to it, being pushed into this wrong timeline that made no sense inside his head. There they were suddenly.
Central City. STAR labs. Cisco was talking, Barry had just flashed into the room, looking disoriented. What else was new? Caitlin was there to hold him up and the world was turning around Hartley in a much different way than it had just... Than it was, somewhere. Had been, in another timeline.
Hartley's hand hit the desk he was standing next to and someone was touching his shoulder, someone was asking who he was. A hallucination again. Still. Would it ever stop? He closed his eyes, his head was spinning.
It was not an easy decision for Barry to make. The world was falling to pieces, everything was going to go out with a bang and he just wanted to try and stop it. He'd never been afraid to undo what was done and the speedforce didn't protest, didn't stop him, they knew he was going to to do it regardless of what they told him.
So he ran.
He let them down. They came to him for help and he felt them both down. Hartley. James. It was on him and he knew it, he'd just been so angry at the time. He didn't think he could trust them or any rogue after all that had happened, reformed or not.
And yet they'd been his friends for ages now. Hartley for few years at least. They all had their ups and downs but they were there for each other. To know that turning his back of them led to this? He couldn't deal. Not with the Tricksters bullet riddled corpses, not with Hartley's swan song. None of it.
There they stood, on unsure ground, the world new and wrong and the moment he looked into Hartley's eyes, he felt it. He knew. He knew what he'd done. He remembered.
And James, he had no idea. There he was, alive and well and unaware that his brains had been splattered all over a train floor not long ago. Barry couldn't look away from Hartley, he felt the obligation to be there, he felt the urge to make it right, to keep this between them as well. They had to.
Hartley stared at Barry, his eyes wide. He still felt the hand on his arm. He still heard James talking. Never shut up. Never, ever shut up.
There was Barry, just staring at him. As if he could make any demands. He felt sick. He felt sick and his arm was warm where James was touching him. He couldn't look at him. The music was still in his ears and none of this was real. Hartley shook the hand off and moved forward suddenly, punching Barry square in the face without any warning. He heard the others gasp, the ensuing silence speaking volumes as well.
Hartley said nothing. He just walked past Barry for a few steps before starting to run. He didn't stop until he was outside, no longer used to running without something tugging on his wrist.
"Hartley? Hartley! Oh man, don't leave me alone here. What the hell?"
As much as they needed the Flash, there was no way in hell he was being ditched here alone to deal with him. They fucked up and the last he checked, the Flash didn't want to be buddies so he was not being left stuck with him after Hartley went psycho and fucking punched him. He followed Hartley, not willing to be shaken off this easily as he came stumbling outside, trying to stop Hartley, to slow him down.
In the end, he was just running beside him, unable to work out what they were doing. "Tell me you have a plan. What the hell are you doing? You just punched the Flash! We came to talk to him, not assault him. Now he'll never help us."
"Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up! Will you just fucking shut up!?" Hartley was aware that he was shouting, overreacting and none of it was helping matters. His head was hurting and that was the least of his issues. He wondered when the music would stop, but it didn't. It just kept going and he wasn't sure if he was imagining it. He wasn't sure if he was imagining anything and he had yet to look at James.
So here they were, running and joined by the cuffs. Hartley had yet to manage to properly look at James or think of him in present instead of past tense. He had to get better at faking this.
Gotham. Damn, Gotham. Why had they come here, ever? Why had he let them come here again? Nothing good had ever come from Gotham. But here they were, having just gotten away from Poison Ivy. A narrow escape, just as the last time. James was talking, of course. Always talking. Pointing out how this was the first time his gayness had worked in his favour, just because he'd been able to withstand Poison Ivy's allure. Not that that had really made much of a difference, but it was a good opportunity for a cheap shot at his sexuality, so of course James went for it.
He had never really cared if Hartley was laughing with him. He used to, before he had started with the homophobia, way back when. Hartley knew that it was a shield for James more than anything, but he used it like a sword and it still hurt. After everything, maybe it hurt even more.
"Let's find Two Face." Spoilers? Whatever. He could just pretend he knew Harvey's routine well enough to randomly encounter him.
"Two Face? Oh. Yeah, great plan. And next let's go hang with the Joker and have tea with the Mad Hatter?" What the hell was up with Hartley lately, he was being so weird and now he had all these strange ideas and honestly? James just had no idea what the fuck he was going. "How the hell is going to find Two Face a good idea? Do you want to get shot? This is Gotham, Piper. Gotham."
And they'd been here for only a short spell of time and honest to God, nearly everyone here had tried to kill him. He was tired, he was exhausted and he was just about ready to get the hell out of this armpit of a city. He didn't feel like doubling back.
"Let's just get to someone we know. Someone we trust. We need to find Barry, he can help us." James stopped moving with Hartley and stubbornly stood still, yanking the chain and hoping Hartley stopped or they were both getting zapped. "No one in Gotham will help. We need one of our own."
"We don't have anyone of our own, Trickster." Hartley did stop, because it wasn't as if he wasn't exhausted as well. He felt as if he had been on the run forever. He hadn't had any break between the first and second round of this. He leaned against the wall of the house next to them, trying to get his breath under control. He stared at his wrist instead of looking anywhere else. The cuff was so familiar. So final.
"Barry can't help us." Predictable. Twice in a row and even worse. He shook himself and slowly exhaled, leaning his head back. He just wanted to rest. He was meant to be dead. They were dead. Hartley breathed in and Gotham smelled foul. Like a rotten corpse that had been dragged through the desert.
"I've been here before. I know Two Face." Know. It was both an understatement and an exaggeration. Gotham folks, they didn't work like they did. "We have a shot with him. Everyone always does. Fifty fifty."
"And if we get a bad coin toss? I knew a rogue that worked with him once and he told me that during the coin toss, he got the scratched side up and was shot at until he was out of sight. We can't outrun bullets, not like this. Neither of us is that on the ball, let's face it." James huffed a little, wishing he could just sit down and that would be that. No more dealing with this shit, no more running, he just wanted it to be over.
With a sigh, he started to walk again, sticking close to Hartley. "You know him?"
How did Hartley know so many people all the time? And why would he want to know people like Gotham rogues? They were all nuts. "If you think it's worth a shot, Piper, I'm game. But don't fuck it up because we're already screwed. We don't need to piss the crazy guy off."
James dropped down onto the train floor, trying to catch his breath as he leaned against some boxes, laughing at how they'd only just made it to freedom. Or James was. Hartley seemed kind of messed up. His last few jokes went on deaf ears, he wasn't even arguing any more. It was unsettling/
"The gay jokes aren't funny any more, huh?"
James shrugged to himself and then, unable to help himself, he laughed and grinned playfully at Hartley. "It's a shame cause riding the rails in this old crappy thing? I have a real knee slapper on the tip of my tongue about being hobo-sexual." With an amused little smile, he looked at Hartley. "I know, Hartley, I know. You don't have to say it."
Hartley smiled weakly, everything inside him screaming. Not him.
"They were never-- You called me Hartley." Might as well follow the script, more or less. He was glad his hood hid his eyes. There were tears in his eyes. He had his flute ready. Maybe it would work. Maybe he had done more for James this time round, more than just gotten him a shower and some cookies.
James was about to reach out and comfort him when he saw a red dot appear on Hartley's head. Oh God no. "Get down!" James yelped as he tackled Hartley down, the shot barely missing them. Then there was another and another. They hid behind the boxes, the same boxes as last time, and James felt like he was definitely hitting breaking point.
He was so tired, he wanted this all to be over. He wanted Deadshot to stop.
"We can't let this keep happening. We need to put him down for good. One last ditch attempt. What do you say? You got your flute, I got my bombs. Let's do this."
There was blood in blond hair. Finally, as he knew it was. Hartley held his friend, the music drowning out everything else, the song that wouldn't stop until he stopped.
Deadshot. They had lost him at last. Hartley was crying. He didn't think he had stopped since James had finally noticed it. Would Barry run again? How often did he have to go on this circle? How often until he broke enough to end the world?
When Hartley woke up, the music finally died down. He was alive. How? And how much time had passed?
Alone in an alley, but not for long. Hartley had rats nuzzling him soon and he had his flute in hand. He had to think, but he didn't want to. What happened? Time was no longer double, but what was it that had happened?
It took hours before he collected himself enough to move and longer still until he figured out who he was and got access to a cellphone. He wasn't sure why, but what he did was text Cisco. That should be enough.
Cisquito. This is Hartley. I'm alive. Came back to life. Something like that.
Hartley's sense of time was still off. His sense of everything was off. But he was back in Central City and people stared at him.
He wondered what they thought he'd done. Maybe it wasn't that surprising that Leonard Snart picked him up, pretty much literally. In a car with Mick and Len and receiving something between an apology and a lecture.
They let him out at STAR labs and there he was, feeling lost. He finally walked inside, although he wanted to run instead when he heard them talking inside, sounding normal. Sounding as if the world hadn't died in so many ways.
"Hey."
He couldn't remember really sleeping since it happened. Sometimes a state like a trance. Sometimes he lost entire days. He looked like it. His hair had gotten long over the course of this nightmare.
Cisco didn't really look up from the comic he was reading. He didn't make a fuss. Caitlin did, Barry wanted to but he knew he couldn't. Wally and Jesse offered their greetings and Cisco just remained where he was until they were over, not really paying him much mind.
"Did you know that Captain Marvel is basically kinda Captain America now? I don't dig it." Cisco looked up over his comic and pulled a face at the state of Hartley. "You look like shit."
Malnourished? He thought he'd been eating. Hartley drank now, since Caitlin made him, and he let her check him over. He shrugged when Cisco remarked on his appearance for a second time, really not sure what to say to that. "I couldn't care less what I look like."
Besides, maybe he rocked the hobo look. James had said as much.
Cisco finally smiled at Hartley, clearly amused by this whole self destruction that Hartley did. Caitlin took his blood, Barry went anywhere but where Hartley and Cisco debated texting James and telling him Hartley was back. No doubt someone else would first. While everyone else left to do their tasks, Cisco leaned back and dropped his comic down. "How are you doing?"
"And, see, look. They're all holding hands." Floyd unveiled his paperchain of happy blue people holding hands to his daughter and her little craft buddy, grinning at them playfully. Zoe was a little too old to be that amused by it but the other kid seemed to think it was pretty dope. Paper chains were though. "It's like world peace or something, you dig me? Everyone all happy and holding hands."
"They don't have faces, how do we know they're happy?"
"We draw them on." Trust Zoe to question it, she had such a bright mind, she always had to question everything. She knew the world wasn't that simple and she was only eleven. Rolling his eyes, Floyd slid the paperchain over to the girls. He didn't look much like a deadly assassin right now, he was in his incognito clothes, chilling out on his day off, sitting in a stupidly tiny chair and helping these kids craft. Thank God his squad couldn't see it. "You make them smile."
"I think you can know if someone is happy even if they don't smile. And sometimes people smile but aren't happy." Jerrie nodded, thinking it awfully confusing too, but she had learned that much by now. People smiled a lot at her while actually not being in a good mood, life wasn't that easy. "But these are really cute!"
She didn't want to discourage Zoe's dad, he was clearly trying very hard. So she took a pen and carefully checked her watch, face scrunched up in concentration. She needed to work out how much time she had left. "My brother is coming to pick me up today. He's so smart."
She had already told Zoe that, but apparently she needed to be told again. "He can build anything!"
"Some people also smile when they're scary as hell."
"Like that strange blonde lady who came over for Christmas?"
"She didn't come over, she broke in." She threw a rock through the window, came in to lament her puddin' ditching her at Christmas, ate all the cookies, drank all the eggnog and fell asleep under the tree. And that was how Zoe met her aunty Harley. "And yeah, pretty much. Her, her boyfriend, that whole giant mess but let's not focus on that. These people right here? They're happy. You know why? Cause they all love each other. That's why me and Zoe are happy. that's why you and your brother is happy."
He was trying to gently get this conversation away from 'bad reasons people smile' and onto good ones. He didn't need Zoe growing up all cynical. "You're gonna want to put big smiles on those faces and then we can show them to your brother and he'll be real proud."
Jerrie knew she wasn't allowed to say 'hell', but she had also learned that other people could say it anyway. Hartley had explained it to her, it was the same with some other words that were bad for her to say. She wasn't sure why the rules were like that, but some things were just strange. "Zoe, can you do the first smile? Only you're much bigger, so you draw it better and I want to learn." Learning was important, even if it was learning how to draw a smile.
The Show Must Go On
More or less.
Maybe it was cheesy to save the world by going out with a Queens song, but if that was wrong, he didn't want to be right. Truly, he didn't want to be anything anymore.
Hartley had never been this aware. Everything. Everywhere. But the only thing that mattered was the music and that it had to end.
There was not supposed to be a red blur. Things went out of order, notes that didn't fit. He knew exactly what was happening, but that was wrong. Time didn't move with him, it just moved around him, like everything else in the world.
Moved around him and then he saw the world adjust to it, being pushed into this wrong timeline that made no sense inside his head. There they were suddenly.
Central City. STAR labs. Cisco was talking, Barry had just flashed into the room, looking disoriented. What else was new? Caitlin was there to hold him up and the world was turning around Hartley in a much different way than it had just... Than it was, somewhere. Had been, in another timeline.
Hartley's hand hit the desk he was standing next to and someone was touching his shoulder, someone was asking who he was. A hallucination again. Still. Would it ever stop? He closed his eyes, his head was spinning.
He didn't have the will to carry on.
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So he ran.
He let them down. They came to him for help and he felt them both down. Hartley. James. It was on him and he knew it, he'd just been so angry at the time. He didn't think he could trust them or any rogue after all that had happened, reformed or not.
And yet they'd been his friends for ages now. Hartley for few years at least. They all had their ups and downs but they were there for each other. To know that turning his back of them led to this? He couldn't deal. Not with the Tricksters bullet riddled corpses, not with Hartley's swan song. None of it.
There they stood, on unsure ground, the world new and wrong and the moment he looked into Hartley's eyes, he felt it. He knew. He knew what he'd done. He remembered.
And James, he had no idea. There he was, alive and well and unaware that his brains had been splattered all over a train floor not long ago. Barry couldn't look away from Hartley, he felt the obligation to be there, he felt the urge to make it right, to keep this between them as well. They had to.
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There was Barry, just staring at him. As if he could make any demands. He felt sick. He felt sick and his arm was warm where James was touching him. He couldn't look at him. The music was still in his ears and none of this was real. Hartley shook the hand off and moved forward suddenly, punching Barry square in the face without any warning. He heard the others gasp, the ensuing silence speaking volumes as well.
Hartley said nothing. He just walked past Barry for a few steps before starting to run. He didn't stop until he was outside, no longer used to running without something tugging on his wrist.
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As much as they needed the Flash, there was no way in hell he was being ditched here alone to deal with him. They fucked up and the last he checked, the Flash didn't want to be buddies so he was not being left stuck with him after Hartley went psycho and fucking punched him. He followed Hartley, not willing to be shaken off this easily as he came stumbling outside, trying to stop Hartley, to slow him down.
In the end, he was just running beside him, unable to work out what they were doing. "Tell me you have a plan. What the hell are you doing? You just punched the Flash! We came to talk to him, not assault him. Now he'll never help us."
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Gotham. Damn, Gotham. Why had they come here, ever? Why had he let them come here again? Nothing good had ever come from Gotham. But here they were, having just gotten away from Poison Ivy. A narrow escape, just as the last time. James was talking, of course. Always talking. Pointing out how this was the first time his gayness had worked in his favour, just because he'd been able to withstand Poison Ivy's allure. Not that that had really made much of a difference, but it was a good opportunity for a cheap shot at his sexuality, so of course James went for it.
He had never really cared if Hartley was laughing with him. He used to, before he had started with the homophobia, way back when. Hartley knew that it was a shield for James more than anything, but he used it like a sword and it still hurt. After everything, maybe it hurt even more.
"Let's find Two Face." Spoilers? Whatever. He could just pretend he knew Harvey's routine well enough to randomly encounter him.
At least this gave them a fifty-fifty chance.
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And they'd been here for only a short spell of time and honest to God, nearly everyone here had tried to kill him. He was tired, he was exhausted and he was just about ready to get the hell out of this armpit of a city. He didn't feel like doubling back.
"Let's just get to someone we know. Someone we trust. We need to find Barry, he can help us." James stopped moving with Hartley and stubbornly stood still, yanking the chain and hoping Hartley stopped or they were both getting zapped. "No one in Gotham will help. We need one of our own."
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"Barry can't help us." Predictable. Twice in a row and even worse. He shook himself and slowly exhaled, leaning his head back. He just wanted to rest. He was meant to be dead. They were dead. Hartley breathed in and Gotham smelled foul. Like a rotten corpse that had been dragged through the desert.
"I've been here before. I know Two Face." Know. It was both an understatement and an exaggeration. Gotham folks, they didn't work like they did. "We have a shot with him. Everyone always does. Fifty fifty."
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With a sigh, he started to walk again, sticking close to Hartley. "You know him?"
How did Hartley know so many people all the time? And why would he want to know people like Gotham rogues? They were all nuts. "If you think it's worth a shot, Piper, I'm game. But don't fuck it up because we're already screwed. We don't need to piss the crazy guy off."
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"The gay jokes aren't funny any more, huh?"
James shrugged to himself and then, unable to help himself, he laughed and grinned playfully at Hartley. "It's a shame cause riding the rails in this old crappy thing? I have a real knee slapper on the tip of my tongue about being hobo-sexual." With an amused little smile, he looked at Hartley. "I know, Hartley, I know. You don't have to say it."
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Hartley smiled weakly, everything inside him screaming. Not him.
"They were never-- You called me Hartley." Might as well follow the script, more or less. He was glad his hood hid his eyes. There were tears in his eyes. He had his flute ready. Maybe it would work. Maybe he had done more for James this time round, more than just gotten him a shower and some cookies.
Probably not.
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James was about to reach out and comfort him when he saw a red dot appear on Hartley's head. Oh God no. "Get down!" James yelped as he tackled Hartley down, the shot barely missing them. Then there was another and another. They hid behind the boxes, the same boxes as last time, and James felt like he was definitely hitting breaking point.
He was so tired, he wanted this all to be over. He wanted Deadshot to stop.
"We can't let this keep happening. We need to put him down for good. One last ditch attempt. What do you say? You got your flute, I got my bombs. Let's do this."
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Deadshot. They had lost him at last. Hartley was crying. He didn't think he had stopped since James had finally noticed it. Would Barry run again? How often did he have to go on this circle? How often until he broke enough to end the world?
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Alone in an alley, but not for long. Hartley had rats nuzzling him soon and he had his flute in hand. He had to think, but he didn't want to. What happened? Time was no longer double, but what was it that had happened?
It took hours before he collected himself enough to move and longer still until he figured out who he was and got access to a cellphone. He wasn't sure why, but what he did was text Cisco. That should be enough.
Cisquito. This is Hartley. I'm alive. Came back to life. Something like that.
The show must go on.
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You rocked that flute, dude.
Also you're terrifying.
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It was weird. Kinda cool though.
James is freaked. I told him you were alive before you even texted but he didn't believe me.
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He wondered what they thought he'd done. Maybe it wasn't that surprising that Leonard Snart picked him up, pretty much literally. In a car with Mick and Len and receiving something between an apology and a lecture.
They let him out at STAR labs and there he was, feeling lost. He finally walked inside, although he wanted to run instead when he heard them talking inside, sounding normal. Sounding as if the world hadn't died in so many ways.
"Hey."
He couldn't remember really sleeping since it happened. Sometimes a state like a trance. Sometimes he lost entire days. He looked like it. His hair had gotten long over the course of this nightmare.
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Cisco didn't really look up from the comic he was reading. He didn't make a fuss. Caitlin did, Barry wanted to but he knew he couldn't. Wally and Jesse offered their greetings and Cisco just remained where he was until they were over, not really paying him much mind.
"Did you know that Captain Marvel is basically kinda Captain America now? I don't dig it." Cisco looked up over his comic and pulled a face at the state of Hartley. "You look like shit."
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Besides, maybe he rocked the hobo look. James had said as much.
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Cisco finally smiled at Hartley, clearly amused by this whole self destruction that Hartley did. Caitlin took his blood, Barry went anywhere but where Hartley and Cisco debated texting James and telling him Hartley was back. No doubt someone else would first. While everyone else left to do their tasks, Cisco leaned back and dropped his comic down. "How are you doing?"
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"They don't have faces, how do we know they're happy?"
"We draw them on." Trust Zoe to question it, she had such a bright mind, she always had to question everything. She knew the world wasn't that simple and she was only eleven. Rolling his eyes, Floyd slid the paperchain over to the girls. He didn't look much like a deadly assassin right now, he was in his incognito clothes, chilling out on his day off, sitting in a stupidly tiny chair and helping these kids craft. Thank God his squad couldn't see it. "You make them smile."
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She didn't want to discourage Zoe's dad, he was clearly trying very hard. So she took a pen and carefully checked her watch, face scrunched up in concentration. She needed to work out how much time she had left. "My brother is coming to pick me up today. He's so smart."
She had already told Zoe that, but apparently she needed to be told again. "He can build anything!"
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"Like that strange blonde lady who came over for Christmas?"
"She didn't come over, she broke in." She threw a rock through the window, came in to lament her puddin' ditching her at Christmas, ate all the cookies, drank all the eggnog and fell asleep under the tree. And that was how Zoe met her aunty Harley. "And yeah, pretty much. Her, her boyfriend, that whole giant mess but let's not focus on that. These people right here? They're happy. You know why? Cause they all love each other. That's why me and Zoe are happy. that's why you and your brother is happy."
He was trying to gently get this conversation away from 'bad reasons people smile' and onto good ones. He didn't need Zoe growing up all cynical. "You're gonna want to put big smiles on those faces and then we can show them to your brother and he'll be real proud."
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