The Sound and his Girl

Chapter 3

"You know, being scooped up by a guy clad head-to-toe in leather is a long-time fantasy of mine, so thanks," Hartley drawled as the Flash shoved him out of the elevator, his wrists bound together by handcuffs.

The others—Caitlin, Cisco, even Melody—were already gathered in the foyer. If he was dismayed at their presence, Hartley made no indication of it. "Well, well, well," he said. "Looks like the gang's all here."

Melody drew breath to address him but he directed his gaze beyond her, straight at Cisco like an arrow. "You lasted a lot longer than I thought you would, Cisco."

"And you didn't last ten seconds against the Flash," Cisco retorted.

Hartley smirked, his eyes going to Caitlin's. "Caitlin," he said. "Never did get that wedding invite."

"Shut the hell up," the Flash growled, shoving him forward.

Melody did not miss the smirk on Hartley's face as he was led down the corridor into the recesses of S.T.A.R. Labs. She drew in a shaky breath, hugging her arms around herself. He had not even acknowledged her presence.

*****

Securing metahumans in containment cells had become something of a routine by now. So it did not take long for Cisco to have Hartley safely locked up. Nor did he miss the notification that turned up on the screen, alerting him to the presence of an unidentified object on Hartley's person. "The scanner's detecting foreign metallic objects in your ears. Take them out," he demanded.

"I can't," Hartley said in the kind of tone you would use to explain to a toddler why one should not attempt to eat a glue stick. "I suffered head trauma when S.T.A.R. Labs exploded. Without these, I'm in pain you can't even imagine." His eyes drifted past Cisco. "We all lost something that night."

To Caitlin, who had just entered the pipeline, his words were like a barb, another reminder of what she had loved and lost. She had to wonder if his words were an attempt at empathy or simply another attack.

If Hartley was aware of Caitlin's upset, he did a commendable job of pretending not to notice. "Very clever, repurposing the antiproton cavities into confinement cells," he said, looking around with exaggerated interest. "Well's idea, I'm sure."

"Mine, actually," Cisco replied, with more than a glimmer of pride.

"Pequeño Cisco," Hartley crooned. "Todavía rogando por la aprobación de su Maestro."

"Si eres tan listo, ¿por qué estás en una jaula?" Cisco returned, stepping forward as though gearing up for a fight.

"Hartley, don't make this more difficult than it has to be," Caitlin cut in.

He turned his razor-sharp interest to her. "J'ai oublié. Vous n'aimez pas les émotions. C'est désordonné."

She drew a breath to argue, but another voice cut in before she spoke. "Enough, Hartley," Wells scolded as he wheeled up the ramp. To Cisco and Caitlin, he said, "Give us a minute."

Hartley was the first to break the silence when they had left. "Tua tacita volumina loquitur."

"Nemo surdus est quam qui non audiat," Wells replied. "How did you know we were working with the Flash?"

"I wrote a hexagonal algorithm tracking all of his sightings, extrapolating a theoretical exit trajectory. Every time he ran from the scene of a crime, he ran in this general direction."

"You are brilliant," Wells said. "And any anguish you have been through because of me was never my intent."

The corner of Hartley's lip curled up ever so slightly. "Not bad," he sneered, "as far as heartfelt apologies go. Except that that wasn't for my benefit. That was for you, Flash." He looked up, as though he expected to find the Speedster watching from the corner of the ceiling. (The Flash was, in fact, watching and listening through the closed-circuit cameras in the cell.)"It feels great to have the great Harrison Wells behind you, doesn't it? But one day this man will turn on you. And I only hope that he leaves you in a better shape than he left me. If you're lucky, you'll only be dead. Because every day—" and here he fixed Wells with that cold hard stare of his "—I have to live with the agonising, piercing screaming in my ears." He ended his words with a pointed glare at Wells, a glare that contained hurt, anger, and censure in equal measure.

With no response to that, Wells turned his chair in order to leave the pipeline. But Hartley was not finished. "I almost forgot, Harrison," he called after Wells' retreating figure. "I told your pet I know your deep, dark secret. Have fun letting him in on that one."

Wells nearly ran over Melody's toes as she came up to the doorway. It was unclear how much she had heard, or what she thought about the discussion; her face remained as passive as ever. "Can I speak to him?"

Wells inclined his head in way of permission as he left. She waited, listening to the trundle of his wheels disappear down the corridor before stepping towards Hartley. Several seconds passed while she struggled to find words; seconds in which Hartley neither spoke to nor looked at her. In the end, unable to take his silence, she blurted, "Why won't you look at me? Why won't you speak?"

"I have nothing to say to you."

"I looked for you for almost a year. Nobody knew where you went. Not even your parents."

Hartley turned to her, and there was a different look in his eyes. It was softer—one could almost call it sad. "You spoke to my parents?"

It was such a change from his usual arrogant, cold demeanor that Melody found herself momentarily unable to answer. It did not matter; the softness left Hartley's eyes as soon as it had arrived. "Of course you did," he muttered darkly. "Birds of a feather, and all that."

"What do you mean?"

"You turned on me. Just like Wells, and my parents. I don't know why you're standing here pretending to be some sort of saint when we both know what you did."

"What did I do?"

"Do you still need to ask? When you are standing here in the same building as the people who betrayed me and locked me up?"

"They imprisoned you because they fear you will hurt others," Melody responded evenly. "And because they want to help you. That's why I am here too. If I didn't care, I wouldn't have come."

She met his gaze evenly, as though daring him to challenge the truth of her words. He might have was too hurt and too angry to interpret the smallest gesture towards him as anything but a barb, but even Hartley knew that she spoke with only sincerity. "You're a nice girl, Melody. But I want nothing to do with you. I've already started something I cannot undo and I'm prepared to finish it whatever the cost. Not even the Flash can stop me. If you stand with him, you stand against me. And I intend to destroy anyone who gets in the way of my plans. Let me put this in words you can understand: ni bu rangbi, jiu buyao guai wo bukeqi."

He turned, making it clear that the conversation was over. He was unreachable, now, closed off to her beyond a wall Melody could not scale. She left the pipeline in defeat: her mission had failed.