he had been more than a little desperate to do some good. barry allen wasn’t so insecure as to be swayed from his purpose just because a few people seemed to be picketing the league and the avengers as a whole—he wasn’t going to stop doing his job just because public opinion was a little low. but he’d be lying entirely if he said it didn’t bother him. he was trying his best to help people, even though he knew he was doing good, he felt a little determined to prove that fact. a firm believer in ‘kill them with kindness’, he’d spent most of his time trying to rebuild the league’s image, and as a result, heroes as a whole. he’d done everything from showing up to children’s birthday parties to rescuing cats from trees. and the slight, unwanted thought that he was maybe working below his pay grade was quickly swept away by his own reserve—the people needed to feel like the heroes were on their side, like they took their desires and opinions into consideration. and barry did.
which is why, in the middle of the day, when he heard the not-so-distant explosion, he quickly handed off the small flash toy that he’d signed for the little girl in frizzy pig tails and gave her a wink and a quick salute. “do me a favor, ma’am, and get you and your mama indoors for me.” then he turned and tapped into the well of speed force that just didn’t seem to be as strong as it used to— and he was gone.
one of the most important things he’d learned, when you’re traveling as fast as a speedster does, it’s important to have an end goal. know where you’re going to stop. and it seemed ridiculous, yes, of course know where you’re going...but most people didn’t understand until they felt it. the near impossibility of the speed, the energy that snapped and crackled around him as he moved, the way the world blended and blurred and then nearly disappeared all together. barry could focus on one point when he was moving—normally it was the villain he was aiming for, or the person he was trying to save. today, it was the bank that the explosion had been from.
slower, slower...stopping wasn’t as nearly as easy as he made it seem either. to everyone else, it was instant. barry wasn’t there, and then he was ( damn speedsters ). but it was a process, a process that he had to concentrate on. because the speed force edged him on, like the steady beating of his heart: faster faster faster. but through adept skill and years of experience, he slowed, and soon he could hear the ringing of the bank alarm, the shouting of civilians, the coughing and wheezing of the smoke around them. he stopped gracefully, with the competence of someone who’d been dropping out of sonic speeds for a while, and knelt down to a man wheezing on the ground, with a deep cut on his head.
“easy, come on...let’s get you out of here,” he said, helping the guy up before he glanced at the smoking entrance of the bank. someone had blown the vault—which meant there must have been something more valuable in there then just money.
