The Flash's Daughter

⚡️Nineteen⚡️

Previously on The Flash's Daughter...

"Actually," Barry began, his voice tight with uncertainty, "I was wondering if you knew more about the powers that Kenz will receive."

Bethany let out a breath like she'd been holding it for years. "I knew you were going to ask me that."

Kenz sat beside Barry on the edge of the couch, her arms crossed, eyes flicking from one parent to the other. She hadn't said a word since Barry had shown her the letter from the notebook Beth left behind.

"So... it's real?" Kenz's voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm not just imagining things?"

Bethany turned her full attention to her daughter. "It's real, sweetheart. Everything I wrote in that letter. I wanted you to find it when the time was right... when things started happening that you couldn't explain."

Barry leaned forward. "Why didn't you just tell us from the beginning?"

Beth looked at him—her high school boyfriend, the boy she once trusted, and the man she had to leave behind. Her gaze softened. "Because I was scared. Of how you'd react. Of how she would grow up carrying this before she was ready. You were always so grounded, Barry. Always science, always logic. And I didn't want to burden Kenz with something she couldn't understand. Not as a baby. That notebook... it was the only way I could still be there when the time came."

Kenz swallowed hard, voice sharp now. "So you knew. This whole time. And you just left?"

Beth flinched at her daughter's words, but nodded. "Yes. I left because I had to. But I left you everything. Everything I knew, everything I hoped you'd discover when the moment came. And now that you've found it, I'm not going anywhere again."

Barry broke the silence. "What exactly is she going to go through? What kind of powers are we talking about?"

Beth sat down across from them, hands clasped tightly in her lap. "It runs through the women in my family—always the women. My mother had it, her mother before her. It never skips a generation."

"What powers?" Kenz asked, sitting forward.

"Healing," Beth said softly, her voice full of memory. "And mind reading."

Kenz blinked. "What?"

"My mom—your grandmother—she had the gift of healing. She could mend cuts, broken bones, take away sickness. But it wasn't without consequences. The more she healed others, the more it drained her. She once revived someone who flatlined in front of her... and she nearly died because of it."

Barry looked stunned. "That's... incredible."

Beth nodded. "But hard. That kind of power is beautiful and dangerous. It can make you feel like you have to save everyone. But it comes at a cost."

"And the mind reading?" Kenz asked, her voice quieter now.

"That's mine," Beth said. "It started when I was around your age. I'd hear voices that weren't spoken. Thoughts that didn't belong to me. I thought I was losing it at first. The worst part was feeling what people felt—not just hearing their thoughts, but carrying their pain, their shame, their joy. All of it. It was like drowning in other people's emotions."

Kenz's eyes widened slightly. "So the headaches I've been getting..."

"Part of it," Beth said gently. "You're starting to absorb things you can't process yet. Emotion, energy, even stray thoughts. It's all flooding in now because the gifts are waking up."

"How long until... I can actually do something with them?" Kenz asked, uncertain.

"They'll get stronger over time. The mind reading usually comes first—faint, scattered thoughts, especially when you're overwhelmed or emotional. You might hear things no one said out loud. You'll start sensing things—like who's lying, who's scared, who's hurting," Beth explained. "The healing will come later. Usually when someone you love gets hurt. It'll feel like instinct—you'll just know what to do. But using it will tire you out. You'll have to learn limits."

Barry turned to his daughter, concern etched on his face. "Is that why you've been pulling away? Acting out?"

Kenz shrugged, but her voice cracked. "I didn't know what was happening. I thought I was crazy. I kept hearing stuff at school—like my friends thinking things they never said out loud. I felt... heavy, all the time. And then you both started fighting again, and I just—" She cut herself off, shaking her head. "I didn't know what else to do but run."

Barry looked devastated, guilt lining every feature.

Beth reached over and gently touched Kenz's hand. "You're not crazy. You're gifted. And now that you know, you don't have to go through it alone. You have both of us. We're going to help you through this."

"I don't want to be some freak," Kenz whispered.

Beth's voice was steady. "You're not. You're extraordinary. This is part of who you are, but it doesn't define you. We'll teach you how to control it, how to protect yourself. You'll learn how to shut it out when you need to."

Kenz looked up at her, unsure. "And if I don't want to use it?"

Beth smiled gently. "Then you don't have to. But you will learn how to control it. That way, it doesn't control you."

Barry placed a hand on Kenz's shoulder. "We've got you, kiddo. I know it's a lot. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it too. But you're not doing this alone."

Kenz looked between the two of them—her parents, so different, so broken once, yet somehow now standing united for her.

"...Okay," she finally said. 

Beth nodded. "im not leaving. i want to be apart of your life"