In Time | The Flash

Chapter Fourteen | Trillium

"What do you think an artist is? ...he is a political being, constantly aware of the heart breaking, passionate, or delightful things that happen in the world, shaping himself completely in their image. Painting is not done to decorate apartments. It is an instrument of war."

- Pablo Picasso

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Merry Christmas, everybody! Hope it's a blessed one for all!

- SaveTheBrooklynBoys

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

>>> Trillium's P.O.V. <<<

Aspen nods at Barry, and our focus goes back to getting one of the containers across the possibly volatile distance. She breathes out, whispering, "Soilsiú." When she does, green lights fire from her palms like fireflies. The room lights up with the an emerald glow. She repeats the word again, forcing more light from her hands.

My jaw drops, and I look, with wide eyes, between the firefly lights around us and my sister's hands. "I didn't know you could do that!" I exclaim, a huge smile on my face.

"I didn't either, until about two minutes ago." She takes in another breath, her hands starting to shake. "Soilsiú!" Another pulse of light comes from her palms, and she looks up at me. "Any time you want to try your part would be fantastic! I'm not sure how long I can hold this."

I shake my head and turn towards the containers, paint brushes drawn. I use them to create a mirage of colors in the shape of a crane. It looks like a swirl of paints, almost see-through, yet it picks up the containers and holds them mid-air. "All right, Sparky. Go!"

Barry nods, and takes off in a flash of yellow lightning. The bolt travels along the walls, stopping just over my imaginary crane. He takes the container from the crane's grasp, carrying it back to us. He skids to a stop, placing it on the ground. My crane drops into a puddle of paints on the ground. Aspen stops creating light, allowing what is already in the air to remain, and runs over to the container. "It doesn't look big enough for a child," she mutters.

On the front, there looks like a combination, the kind you see on safes. "Great!" I throw my hands into the air. "Anyone know the code?"

Barry shakes his head and holds up a vibrating hand. He phases through the metal, unlocking the container from the inside. When the door swings open, we sit there, dumbfounded at the sight before us.

I'm the first to speak after finding my voice again. "Drugs. That's what we came here for? Fucking drugs!"

The safe is filled to the brim with chilled syringes of some type of blue liquid. From the sheer amount of them, they appear to be illegal. Barry takes one of the syringes into his hand, looking over the liquid as Aspen falls to her knees.

"She's not here, is she," Aspen whispers to Barry.

That's all the motivation I need to turn on my heel and make a run straight for the containers. I hear Julian's voice shouting British obscenities in my ear. "Damn it, Trillium! This is what I bloody meant!"

"My niece is missing, Julian Albert," I shout back, looking at the half dozen containers in front of me. "When she's back, then we can fight about this."

I tear through each of the containers, finding just the same in each one. Cait tells me that the reason they were showing up as cold spots is because there's ice in the containers, acting as a refrigerator for the drugs. "They must need to be kept in a chilled environment," she explains, her sad voice softening. "I'm so sorry."