Burning Down The House - Snowbarry

Chapter Three

Barry's eyes panned over the scene languidly, a tightness ever growing in the back of his throat, rage and vexation threatening to spill out like vomit. His fists are clenched tightly, his latex gloves he had worn to collect the very little evidence at the scene straining beneath the vehement anger and fright that seeped out from his core.

The bustling scene around him was nothing more than a faint echo, a rising panic settling itself on his shoulders, weighing down on him like a thousand tons, and he knew all too well that soon he was going to snap under the pressure.

"Allen?" Kramer stepped beside the transfixed CSI.

Barry finally broke free of his unmoving stance, shaking his head to try and refocus. "Uh..." He cleared his throat, trying to build up that wall of professionalism with Kramer. Despite having revealed his identity to her, and given the captain an open line of communication to The Flash, he wasn't ready to divulge his emotional turmoil with his boss. "There's no body, no ashes, the only sign of an altercation is her car, which..." He gestured to the vehicle, or what was left of it, letting out a rigid breath.

"So what? This Black Flame is kidnapping now?" Kramer inquired.

"I- I don't know." Barry said, defeated. He crouched down, beginning to pack up his equipment. "But this thing, whatever, whoever they are, they're ruthless, and we have to find her before it's too late." Barry shook his head, clenching his eyes shut as the bodies flashed across his mind. "If it isn't already." He added grimly.

"I already have officers looking for anything that could even remotely be related to these flames. I will do everything in my power to make sure she gets home safely, Barry."

He nodded. "Thank you." He looked up her, tight-lipped. "I'm gonna take this back to my lab and then head to Star Labs to see if we can get a lead on this thing."
Kramer gave him a nod and Barry peered around at the surrounding area to ensure no one was watching before he exited in a burst of wind.

He dropped the equipment off in his lab at the precinct before quickly turning on his heels and making a beeline for Star Labs. His usual experienced stop is substituted for a faulty one, and for the first time in years his shoes are smoking and sparking, a true testament to how out of it he truly was.

After stomping them out, he raised his gaze to the silent members of the team who were watching, and they quickly broke their gaze. "Anything?"

"Oh, uh nothing yet, but as soon as the flames show up we'll know, don't worry." Chester said, and Barry nodded absentmindedly, already making to exit the room. He slips his ring on, letting the gold and crimson material form over him before he disappeared once more, frantically searching the city.

He finds nothing, but it doesn't deter him. He keeps searching, he doesn't let the intrusive thoughts in, the thoughts of what could've happened. If the flames had fed on her, there would've been a body, like the other murders, but she wasn't grieving. That left him with another question: why would the flames take her?

He continued to throw questions at himself as he patrolled the city until eventually he realized it was doing nothing but exhausting him, and he returned to Star Labs.

Wandering the halls, his fingers trace the concrete, feeling every imperfection. He arrives at the lounge and continues forward out onto the balcony overlooking Central City.

He retracted his cowl, the cool air immediately making itself known against his steaming red skin. His hair was everywhere, sweat dripping from long unkempt locks. It had no style, it just dangled from his head, matted and brushed aside with careless abandon. He hadn't gotten a haircut in over a month, and with his speed his hair grew extra fast, but Barry didn't care. He didn't need a haircut.