EXPEDITE ▇▇▇▇ VOLUME TWO
━━ ❛ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 ❜

chapter no. 041!

     THE ANGER CAME IN WAVES OF BLACK AND BLUE, THREATENING TO CONSUME HER ENTIRELY. It was her master. It had been for months now. She was at the mercy of its whims, and, at times, it gnawed at her with such force that she feared it would leave her with nothing but an empty heart.

     Her head was pounding as she marched towards her car, silent, salty tears flowing down her cheeks. Slamming the car door shut, the redhead threw her purse into the passenger seat in frustration, photographs spilling everywhere.

     "Dammit, dammit, dammit!" she yelled, striking the palms of her hands against the steering wheel. Falling back into the seat, she squeezed her eyes shut as her chest rose up and down laboriously.

     Why couldn't she get past it? Why couldn't she just make it stop?

     A small sob escaped her mouth as flashes of Athena's pale, lifeless face played in her mind. She placed her head on the steering wheel as her body began to shake, sobs racking her spine.

     No matter how often she tried to accept what she'd done or how her life was now, it didn't work. It didn't help. All it did was make it more real.

     She killed someone.

     She took another person's life.

     She took away her best friend's life.

      Athena Caples was dead because of her.

     Why did this have to happen? Why did the Speed Force make her the one to do it?

     No matter how much she strived to be the person her conscience wanted her to be, the memories would keep taunting her with her mistakes. Each time the regret reemerged, she would analyze it again, hoping that this time her mind would be satisfied with her self-professed remorse, but it never was. Like an unforgiving ghost, it would be back tomorrow to haunt her all over again.

     Piper Lita was no longer Piper Lita.

     Expedite was no longer Expedite.

     She wasn't the hero the city deserved and wasn't sure if she would ever be good enough to be. Her perspective and morality were damaged and compromised. It had been for months. Her job wasn't as fun or fulfilling anymore. The redhead dreaded having to put on that purple suit. It only reminded her of what she'd become recently.

     Aureolin did so much damage to her soul. She turned her into an emotional, roller-coaster mess, and Piper hadn't even had a chance to heal before Savitar entered the picture.

     Athena destroyed her life, but Savitar turned her into shattered shards of glass.

     The blue and silver speedster was obsessed with messing with her mind—her memories. That was how he kept winning. All he had to do was use his telepathy to project illusions and recall past events. It was as simple as that.

     Sitting up, she wiped away her tears, sniffling. Piper grabbed the keys from her purse and started up the car, buckling. She backed out of her parking space and turned right, heading down North Main Street.

     Get yourself together, Piper. You're meeting Miles and Damon soon. They can't see how much of a mess you are right now.

     The car stopped as she pressed down on the brake, glancing at the red light before flickering her eyes over to the photos that'd spilled from her purse.

     Carlos Aether, one of her team members, had taken pictures of Savitar last week during an explosion downtown. After finally developing the photos, he gave them to Piper immediately, knowing she'd want to look at what he'd captured on screen before anyone else did.

     The sound of the car behind her honking snapped her out of her thoughts, causing her to let off the brake, resuming driving towards the exit she needed to get on to get home.

     At the last red light before the exit, she glanced back to the photos, her eyes landing on the one that was close to the passenger car door. Quickly reaching over, she snatched it as the light turned green. Placing it in her lap, she turned right, merging onto the highway.

     Picking the photograph up, she held it out to the side to see it while she drove. Glancing over, she narrowed her chocolate-brown eyes as a glimpse of gold caught her attention.

     In the photo, Savitar had his back facing the camera. A sliver on his suit was split apart on the right arm, showing the tiniest bit of skin. Piper could see a glimpse of the arm that belonged to the man beneath the armor. Around the wrist was a gold bracelet.

     Wait, just a frickity fra—

     Barry had given her a gold bracelet last month randomly. It had come in a set of two. There, in the photo, was the matching gold bracelet to the one she wore.

     The purple speedster gasped, her left hand losing its grip on the steering wheel as she drove down the highway.

     It all made sense.

     The arguments. The screaming and fighting. The way that he treated her. It all made sense.

     He was Savitar.

     And she had been blind to the truth the whole time.

     Gasps of raspy air left her lips as she shot up in bed, curls of garnet-red hair sticking to her skin. Lines of sweat trickled down her face as her heart raced expeditiously. Blinking back tears, she pushed down the lump in her throat.

     Barry Allen was Savitar.

     This whole time. It'd been him.

     The face behind the mask that had been in front of her for months. She let him get closer to her than anybody else ever had before. She let him do things to her and vice versa. He'd seen every inch of her and knew how badly Athena's murder affected her. He knew everything. He was the only person she had opened up to.

     He knew everything.

     Pushing out of the covers, she stumbled towards the bathroom, and with each step, her stomach tightened more. She kept swallowing, and her throat kept clenching, but no matter what she could do, the warm feeling in her stomach would not stop. Flipping on the lights, it was then that she could taste it in the back of her mouth.

     Sliding to the toilet, she dropped to her knees and threw up.

     The thoughts and strings of whispers running around in her brain were loud and demanding to be heard. Everything was spinning, and it felt like the floor beneath her body was melting.

     Slowly, the dizziness and darkness around her dissolved, and all the bottled-up anger that'd been lying underneath the surface emerged. Her hands curled into tight fists, her knuckles turning white as she stood up from the ground.

     Every word he ever uttered to her echoed in her mind, only fueling the fire in her chest. Every violated phrase was like gasoline, adding an acidic and potent flare to the mix.

     Burning rage hissed through her veins like a deathly poison, screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence. It was like a volcano erupting, fury sweeping off her like ferocious waves. The wrath consumed her moralities, destroying the boundaries of rationality and reason.

     Her eyes were a dark and hollow brown, gleaming the unspoken and untold truths within them. They held clouds of rainfall that no one would ever witness. Maybe one day, someone would be there to see the release that would feel like a downfall, but for now, that storm was saved for the man in silver and blue.

────

     KICK.

     Hit.

     Swing.

     Duck.

     Repeat.

     Kick.

     Hit.

     Swing.

     Duck.

     Repeat.

     Striking her fist into the side of the foam mannequin, she paused, keeping it pressed to the side of the stand. Letting out an exasperated sigh, her arm fell to her side in frustration.

     Nothing she was doing, physically, was releasing any of the pent-up anger that remained above the surface, lingering like a bad smell. No matter how many times she punched a punching bag, kicked and hit a mannequin, and screamed until she couldn't breathe, it didn't help. If anything, the rage only intensified.

     Piper had allowed herself to lose control and unleash every ounce of energy and emotion she had inside her. Hence, why the S.T.A.R. Labs basement looked the way it did: a chaotic mess. Unruly and windswept. Only a few lights were on in the massive underground bunker, which was shining on the workout and training equipment.

     Boxes and miscellaneous objects were scattered about, resting on either desks, bookshelves, or simply on the ground. No one had ever bothered to organize or clean the basement, which was very noticeable at first glance.

     Piper had snuck down while Caitlin, Harry, and Cisco went out for coffee at Jitters, as they normally did every Wednesday. No one knew she was there, and she wanted to keep it that way. All the redhead wanted was to be alone. She knew that if she talked or interacted with anyone, specifically Barry, they would become the victim of her boiling temper, and she didn't want that.

     The team, her family, didn't deserve to feel the outlandish results of something that they had no part in nor were knowledgeable of. It was unfair, and the last thing she wanted to do was subject any of them to her pain and heartache.

     All she could feel was betrayal.

     It felt as if her mind was on fire, burning to the ground and singeing at the dusting ends. Unfavorable, apathetic thoughts were slowly consuming her brain, blossoming vines of thorns into her subconscious, poking and scratching at the repressed memories of the recent months.

     Each good memory that popped up was no longer stained with happiness or love. Instead, they were tainted with hues of anguish and destruction, slowly matching the bad memories of her past.

     It was disturbing how quickly the feeling of love turned into hate, and what was scarier was the fact that she wasn't even fighting it. Piper was simply letting the good become bad and not bothering to think twice about it.

     Nearly every memory she held responsibility for was painted black and white, so what was the harm in letting the select few that didn't match change? There was no harm. Nothing worse than what had already happened to her could happen. Or so she thought in this minuscule moment.

     The man she was in love with wore the mask of the man who haunted her dreams and mentally tortured her so much that she was always living in a state of emotional turmoil.

     The man she was in love with had compulsively lied and manipulated her for months, making her believe that what they had was real. What could be worse than that?

     Breathing in through her nose sharply, Piper squeezed her hand into a tight fist once more and swung her arm back before colliding it with the mannequin, watching as it swayed back and forth before it fell to the ground. Exhaling, she stepped back and groaned loudly in frustration. She couldn't even feel satisfied watching the stand fall to the ground in defeat. Her mind was too clouded with anger and disgust.

     Do you remember what Aureolin said? Right before you killed her? I believe it was something like, "Doesn't it get exhausting? Pretending to be happy, pure, and good? I know that for me, it would, and I bet you're burned out. There's a darkness in you, Pipa Colada. Darkness you keep hidden because you're afraid. Afraid of how people will see you once you embrace all that pain and suffering. Afraid that no one will love you. Afraid that it'll drive them away and leave you alone, again."

     What Savitar had thrown in her face over a week ago had returned with a cold sting, adding fuel to an already burning flame in the pit of her stomach. Turning around, she grabbed the first object she saw and threw it across the room angrily, letting out a blood-curdling scream.

     Her brain went into overdrive as it picked out every moment that she'd spent crying and panicking over the speedster, over her past, the death of her parents and sister, the wipe-out of every member on her original team, the death of her old boss and ex-boyfriend, the torture Aureolin inflicted, the murder of Athena Caples, losing her only home, everything. The burdened memories weighed down her soul, but instead of breaking her very being even further, her heart turned ice cold and slunk into the shadows of her subconscious as her fury took complete control. The flames in her stomach rose up to her chest and crawled through her veins, smoldering every inch of her.

     It was like a vexing of mind, for what she felt and was thinking was not her. It was twisted and distorted. It was strong and overbearing. It was unsettling.

     All she could feel was a neurotic craving for the feeling of hatred.

     Hatred for everything and everyone. For the man, she fell in love with many months ago. Hatred for the woman in yellow who had ultimately died by the power of her hands.

     It was intoxicating, being filled with such a dark feeling. The acidity of it was creeping up her spine and readying itself for the moment where it could escape her mouth in the form of foul and slicing words. Words that she'd never spoken before but soon would.

     Sweeping her hollow, dark-brown eyes around the basement, she paused in her movement as she caught glimpse of something crimson red. Furrowing her brows, she marched over to a corner of the room. Once she'd approached the metal table that was up against the wall, she threw back the dusty blanket that covered the surface. Underneath the sheet was a set of metal black arrows with the tails and tips coated in a vibrant red. The arrows were lying next to a smooth, leather black quiver. Beside the quiver was a brilliantly painted crimson red bow made of some combination of wood and metal.

     Eyeing the equipment before her, Piper reached forward and delicately picked up the bow, running her fingers over the bowstring. The corners of her lips briefly flickered upward at the feeling of the thin material between her fingertips.

     An unknown entity cloaked her shoulders, and she subconsciously reached for an arrow, spinning around and drawing back the bow. For what appeared to be no reason, her chest was rising up and down laboriously as she breathed heavily, her gaze focused on one of the other mannequin dummies that were on the opposite end of the room, right next to the door that led to the S.T.A.R. Labs morgue.

     Although she had zero experience with archery nor ever held a bow and arrow before, she didn't hesitate to release the bowstring. With trained eyes, she held her form as she watched the arrow strike the mannequin square in the forehead. A surge of sick satisfaction and pride rose in her chest, and a smirk spread across her cheeks.

     Reaching behind her, she grabbed another arrow and drew it back, releasing it once more, and watching with a small smirk at it struck the mannequin right in the chest where someone's heart would normally reside.

     This was the first time all day since she'd woken up that anything she'd done had taken away some of the anger and replaced it with contentment.

     "Efficacy?" A startled voice asked, and Piper turned her head, lowering the bow. Harry and Cisco were standing in front of the stairs leading upstairs. The scientist expressed disbelief and mild fear, his pupils wide with surprise. The long-haired boy to his left wore a similar expression, except his was clouded more with confusion than fear.

     "What do you want?" Piper asked, slightly raising her brow at the name she'd just been called.

     "We uh..." Cisco cleared his throat, glancing at Harry, "we were just coming down here to grab some tools for a project we're working on. I uh, I didn't know you were here. Does Barry know you're here? He didn't mention that you were a few minutes ago upstairs."

     Piper blinked before shrugging. "Barry isn't my babysitter. I can go wherever I want without him knowing my every move," she spoke stonily, tossing the bow between her hands.

     "No, I know. That's not what I was saying. I just meant—"

     "Where did you get that bow and the arrows?" Harry interrupted, and the long-haired boy shot him a glare.

     Piper tilted her head to the right. "I found them down here. Why? Worried I got them from my double on Earth-Two?" she questioned, an underlying edge and bitterness to her tone of voice.

     Gulping, Harry eyed the bow uneasily, a sinking and fearful feeling weighing down his gut. Something wasn't right with her. He could feel it. This wasn't normal behavior. The way she was talking wasn't normal. Piper didn't snap or have a bitter tone. She was never rude to Cisco. Piper didn't act like this.

     "T-That bow and the matching arrows were made for Arsenal, the vigilante archer in Starling City," Cisco spoke up, gesturing to the weapon in the girls' hands.

     Glancing down to the bow, Piper nodded. "Roy Harper," she spoke, looking at the long-haired boy who wore a look of surprise. "I worked with him before back on my Earth. He's known as the Arrow there."

     Cisco raised his brows slightly, startled by the news. "What about the guy who is the Arrow here? Is he not on your Earth?" He questioned, noticing that Harry had walked away to get the tools they needed.

     "You mean Oliver Queen? He died on the Queen's Gambit in 2007 when it sank during a thunderstorm." Piper answered, reaching for another arrow.

     It was silent as Cisco watched her continue to fire arrows at the mannequin, his brows rising higher and higher each time she struck the stand exactly where she aimed to. Her talent with a bow and arrow was impeccable.

     Feeling a nudge in his side, Cisco turned his head to see that the scientist was back and waiting for him to follow him back upstairs. Looking one last time at his best friend, the boy frowned, an uneasy feeling floating in his stomach as he left the basement, the sound of arrows flying through the air fading.

     Piper turned her head, feeling relief washing over her once she noticed they were gone. Looking back to the mannequin, she froze, her eyes wide with fear.

     "Hey, Pipes," a voice greeted, the baritone of the person's voice reverberating through Piper's bones as the man before her leaned against the mannequin, yanking an arrow out from its chest.

     He chuckled, noticing her face's shock, anger, and fear.

     Her brain had shut down at the simple nickname that she used to adore, but now, all it brought on was a wave of nausea and guilt. A cold sweat coated her face as she remained trapped.

     Piper Lita was trapped in her own psychosis, a living nightmare made for one, tailored by her own brain to play on her deepest fears.

     This wasn't real. She was seeing things. This wasn't real. He wasn't there.

     "I forgot how good red looked on you," he mused, chuckling as she remained unresponsive.

     "You son of a bitch," Piper finally whispered, the bow resting in her hands falling to the ground. "How could you?"

     He didn't respond. Instead, he waited for the memory of that night to come back.

     Growing frustrated at his deafening silence, she stepped forward. "I know, Barry. I know." Piper hissed. Suddenly, a sharp pain spread throughout her body, and she squeezed her eyes shut, subconsciously taking a step back.

     The sound of the door opening grabbed the redhead's attention, and she turned around, a stack of photographs in her hand. Her watering eyes locked on the figure of Barry Allen as he closed the front door behind him, locking it. Spinning around, his eyes locked onto the set of photos in his girlfriend's hands.

     "You're him, aren't you?" She asked, her voice shaking dangerously.

     He raised a curious brow, stepping forward. "Him who?"

     Piper narrowed her eyes as she threw the photos across the living room. "Don't lie to me, Allen." The sound of furious footsteps echoed as she marched toward the brown-haired man. "How could you?!"

     Barry smirked as he reached up, tucking a piece of perfectly straight red hair behind Piper's ear. She raised her hand and quickly slapped his away.

     "I love you, P," he whispered.

     "No." She backed away, shaking her head. "No. Don't you dare try and charm your way out of this."

     Taking a step forward, the brown-haired man painted a confused expression across his face. "I don't know what you mean," he replied, tilting his chin.

     Picking up the blueprints on the couch, Piper crumbled them to pieces with the tips of her fingers. His eyes darkened as he watched the ashes fall to the ground. "Admit it. You're him. You're the Caruthers City Cacodemon. The serial killer speedster." Piper spat, shoving her arms against his chest as he drew closer.

     "Babe, I think Savitar's gotten into your head again. You're not making any sense." Barry said, shaking his head.

     Tears boiled in her chocolate-brown eyes as his words were like knives against her heart. "No! No, it's you who has been getting in my head," she choked out, pressing her index finger into his chest. "You turned every moment and memory we spent together into razor blades. Even the good moments, the moments where we laughed so hard our stomachs hurt and where it felt as if we were the only people who mattered, have been turned into a knife that plunges further into my already broken heart.

      "All of this was a sick, twisted game to you. This whole time, you were fucking with my emotions and mental stability just so you could outrun me. Become the fastest speedster when you already know that's impossible. Because of you, I am terrified of letting people in and allowing myself to love someone, knowing that I might one day lose them to you, Savitar. I hate you. I fucking hate you for that.

     "Aureolin turned me into an emotional, traumatized, roller-coaster mess. She destroyed my entire life but you... you turned me into shattered shards of glass. No matter how long I will know you, your touch will stay with me for years, Maybe for the rest of my life, who knows?! What I know is that you made me feel like a waste of space and a failure. I remember every word you've said and how many lies you have spilled to me over the past three months. I remember everything that you did to me in that stupid, silver, and blue piece of shit that you call a suit. Now, whenever the voice inside my head speaks to me and tells me I'm worthless and not enough, it's no longer my voice. It's yours, Barry Allen."

     It was silent in the living room as the two speedsters stared at one another. Tears fell down Piper's cheeks as her shoulders began to shake violently. She squeezed her eyes shut and reached down to her right hand, where the gold bracelet rested around her wrist. Gripping it tightly, she ripped it off and threw it onto the floor.

     Barry's dark-green eyes looked down at the white carpet, feeling a trail of goosebumps crawl up his arms. Slowly, he bent down and picked the bracelet back up, tucking it into his back pocket.

     "I love you."

     Piper's eyes snapped open, and she shook her head. "Don't."

     "Piper—"

     "Barry, don't!"

     The volume of how loud her voice was echoed in the house, and the brown-haired man took a step back, flinching, even though this was exactly the reaction he wanted from her. All of his planning had led to this. The last moment where they would be together as Barry and Piper.

     "Get out," Piper finally whispered miserably. Her words caused Barry's head to snap up, his brows raising. "Get out of my house."

     Stepping forward, the brown-haired man grabbed onto her arm. Almost immediately, she pressed her hands against his chest, pounding onto it with her fists. With every strike to his chest, she sobbed, her vision becoming harder to decipher by the second. Grabbing onto his leather jacket, she shook him back and forth. "Get out," she sobbed, landing her fists against his chest one more time before she collapsed to the floor.

     Barry stepped backward, watching with pitiful eyes as the redhead broke right before him.

     "You're playing the long game now, Piper Lita. And you're not going to win." His metallic voice caused her head to snap up. Her cheeks were stained red with tears, and her eyes were bloodshot.

     Snapping her fingers together, an orb of purple lightning appeared, and she angrily threw it at him. "Go to Hell!" she screamed. The purple lightning hit the right side of Barry's face, and he stumbled backward, crying out in pain.

     Her eyes snapped open, and Piper released a shaky breath as her chest rose up and down. Gulping, she ran her hand through her hair and then covered her face, bringing her hands down to rest in a prayer position, her index fingers pressed against her lips.

     The two days leading up to her murder... the memories she kept flashing back to... all of it. She remembered everything.

     Raising her eyes to meet his, tears pooled up the moment she noticed the massive burn mark covering the right side of his face.

     He deserved it and more. He ruined her.

     "You remember now, don't you?" He questioned, stepping forward. Piper nodded. "Good. We need to talk."