Adventure Of A Lifetime

Chapter 15 - Turn Your Magic On

***KARA***

Cisco steps into the middle of the floor, goggles on, holding out one hand.

"He looks like he's about to part the Red Sea," Barry says with a smile.

"Talk about me like I'm not here, why don't you?" Cisco remarks.

"Yeah, Barry," I say, smacking his arm as lightly as possible. Lightly, but still enough to make him wince at me like I broke his humerus or something. Well, it's his funny bone, that's for sure. And he's a big boy in more ways than one. He can handle this.

More than Cisco can handle doing his Vibe thing, I'm guessing, based on his apparent inability to open the dimensional breach. Assuming it's there - I can't see it any more than any of the humans can. "I'm sorry, guys," he says, whipping off the goggles and cleaning them with the hem of his T-shirt. "I'm pretty rusty at this."

"How many times have you done it again?" asks Dr. Wells.

"...one?"

"Then you're the opposite of rusty," says Wells. "You're green. Green as emeralds. Green as peppermint. Green as the stuff making your sneakers stink."

"That's not very green at all," Barry says.

"Brown, maybe," Cisco laughs. "Although my feet don't get nearly as much sun as points north." He taps his temple with two fingers.

"Remind me," I say, "what exactly are we gonna do?"

Cisco puts the goggles back on. "These things are supposed to help me open dimensional breaches. Trouble is, I could've sworn there was one right here..."

"In the middle of the lab?" I ask, scratching my head. "Huh. Wouldn't that be a coincidence."

"You'd be surprised," Cisco says.

"Maybe not," says Clark. "When it comes to us Kryptonians, there's no such thing as a 'coincidence.'" He even throws in air quotes. And they say he's just a big tall milquetoast stalk of Kansas wheat. Or something like that. If it'd been Cat who said it, I'd probably remember it much better. The "whole milk" line, anyone?

"You sure you only need the goggles?" I ask, feeling foolish. Very foolish. "Maybe you need gloves or something?"

Cisco jumps on the spot, spluttering madly. He looks at me like I've asked him to swallow a box of live plague rats. "Gloves," he says with his palms up, "make you clumsy. Just ask our boy Bar."

"They do not," Barry counters. "Well, maybe they used to, back in the day, but-"

Cisco shushes him, pointing a very authoritative finger that even scares me - for a split second. Then I want to break out laughing, only for him to crush that instinct with steely words. "This is a precision instrument," he grumbles. "If you're gonna tell me to fetter my already underdeveloped metahuman powers any further-"

"Ramon." Wells walks back into the lab. It seems he'd stepped out at some point to grab himself a candy bar, probably from a vending machine - or, more likely, a stash in his desk. Even more than Cisco, he seems to me like he's the type to keep potential ant attractors in his workspace. "You're rambling. Focus."

"Ramon's Rambles, boys and girls," Cisco laughs.

"Own your weird another time," Wells admonishes him. "Right now, you have one job. And if you want me to buy you Big Belly Burgers for dinner along with the rest of the team, you'll get that job done. Copy?"

"Yeah. Copy." Cisco wipes imaginary sweat from his brow. "All right, let's see. Interdimensional portal, right here." He stretches out his hand again. "Um...it would help if I had something connected to this other Earth."

"What, like an object?" Diana asks. "Some kind of physical artifact?"

I look at Conner, who's too busy watching Cisco to see me. But then a lightbulb goes off above his head, metaphorically speaking. "I'm an artifact," he says, stepping up to Cisco. "Use me."

"I meant things, not people," Cisco says. "When it comes to people, I get...easily overloaded." He swallows nervously. "Just ask my girlfriend. Sometimes, I vibe so hard I can't even touch her." We're all snickering into our hands at that one, and even Cisco catches this particular strain of laughing virus eventually. Then he steels himself again, squaring his shoulders the way I've seen Clark and Diana do sometimes. "All right, Conner," he says. "Take my hand."

Conner obeys him, and he uses his other hand to wave the air around for a second. Then a pinprick of light appears, growing into a shiny silvery circle about eight feet in diameter.

"Do we all gotta speed through this?" Barry asks, taking my hand.

Diana cracks her knuckles. I didn't know she had that habit. "I'm ready."

"I'm coming with you guys too, right?" Cisco asks. "You won't be able to find your way back without me!"

"Yeah," I say. "Of course you're coming with."

Everyone runs through the portal. I swear, the last thing I hear before Barry and I leave this version of STAR Labs is Wells saying, "Godspeed."

Seconds later, after we run through what looks like a swirling tunnel full of glimpses of random action sequences from assorted movies, we land in what looks a lot like the same lab space we left. Except for one major difference.

It's full of people.

One of those people sees Clark and Diana and jumps out of their seat, screaming both their superhero names.

Another one, however, sees Cisco and screams, "Reverb!" Then he slams a button on his desk, causing sirens to go off and metal blast doors to seal off the whole lab.

"Whoa, calm down!" Cisco cries, holding up his hands. "Guys! I'm not...I'm not this Reverse guy!"

"Reverb," Conner corrects him.

"Whatever!" Cisco lowers one hand so he can remove his goggles. "My name is Vibe! I'm not here to hurt you! Just...which way to Metropolis, huh?"

"You're right," says the middle-aged woman who recognized Clark and Diana. "His hairstyle's wrong. And his voice isn't so deep."

Cisco breathes a huge sigh of relief. "Thank you. Wait, what?"

Over our heads, a panel in the ceiling opens, admitting sunlight like some kind of Greco-Roman oculus. Sunlight, and a flaming man in a yellow suit who rocket-propels himself down to the floor. He doesn't quite stick the landing, but he comes close.

"Are you Firestorm?" asks Barry. "Firestorm's...?"

"I guess in this 'verse, Ronnie's a black guy?" Cisco asks.

Firestorm - I've heard that name. That's one of Barry's other friends from STAR Labs - he nuclear-fused with some older scientist guy. I've met Ronnie Raymond only once, and I know he's a tall, beefy, handsome white dude. Even with the flames obscuring this man's color and features, it's clear that Cisco's right - he's black.

"Who's Ronnie?" Firestorm asks.

"Sorry," Barry says. "It's just...that's the name of the Firestorm guy on our Earth."

Firestorm cocks his head at Barry. "Wait a second...you're the Flash? I mean, this other version of..." He pauses for a long moment. "Yeah, dude, I can see he sounds like you. No helmet, though? What kind of Flash is he?" Pause again.

"Who are you talking to?" Conner asks.

That's when I see, for the first time, Firestorm de-fusing, separating into two distinct male figures. One is the black man, who's younger than I first thought - barely even college age, I think.

The other is a very well-dressed, neatly-pressed, bowtied, and very bespectacled Barry Allen.

Everyone looks between this other Barry and the one who came with us.

As for our Barry, all he can do is drop his jaw...and his cowl.