"Well, what do you think?" Barry asks Iris, Iris seated at her desk, her attention glued to her laptop screen.

"Looks great." Iris mutters, not paying much attention.

"And what about this table?" I place the small coffee table down, "Good?"

"Uh huh-" Iris mutters again, his eyes not moving from her screen.

I shrug, sitting on the couch, Barry's palms presses against the arm of it.

"I mean, I can move the couch against the wall, if that'll help." Barry suggests and uses his speed to move the couch.

"Oh- geez-" I held onto the cushion, the movement being way too fast for me to process.

"Sorry, babe-" Barry leans over, pecking my lips before looking at Iris, noticing how she didn't take notice of him moving the couch, "Iris, it's just- couch in the corner or against the wall is pretty much the extent of my interior design knowledge."

"I'm sorry, guys-" Iris sighs, looking up at us, "It's- it's just, it's been a week since I launched the Central City Citizen, and I am still struggling to gain readers, and I think I just figured out why."

Iris turns her laptop to face us, Barry and I heading over, looking at the screen, Barry beginning to read, "Iris West's first published articles as an aspiring online news maven bring one word to mind: boring."

I continued, "Her stories lack the edgy content made popular by sites such as Spencer Young's game changing Spyn Zone."

"In short, Iris West plays it safe." Barry finishes, sighing, "Iris, come on. You can't listen to this."

I side with Barry, "Barry's right. You're a real journalist- you don't want to write like Spencer Young. She didn't care about the facts."

"Yeah, but at least she wrote about things that people cared about, like I did when I was writing about Devoe." Iris reasons, sighing.

Barry pieces it together out loud as I did in my mind, "You wanna write about Cicada."

Iris goes silent, looking between the two of us.

I look at Barry, the look on his face showing that he was going to easily give in to our best friend as I was.

I look at Iris, "Stay safe, okay?"

"Yes-" Iris jumps out of her seat, placing her laptop into her bag.

"Call us if you need us." Barry points at her.

"Yes, of course-" Iris grabs her necessities, "I've got a lot of digging to do, and I think I have a hunch where to start."

I call out behind her after she said her goodbyes, rushing out, ""We'll be at a Star Labs-"

-

"So- you really think this might be it?" Ralph questions, as we surrounded the box that sat in the center, white fog falling out of it due to the temperature of it, Caitlin holding up what was the cure, black gloves on her hands.

"Cisco sent me this sample to corroborate his findings, and it all checks out." Caitlin nods, placing it back in, "I'm sending it back to him for final processing, but I think we may have found a way- to suppress the meta genome."

"Great." Barry crosses his arms, "Then we can use it to de-power Cicada, stop him for good."

I spoke up, "So what's the plan? Put this thing in a tranq gun and go all "American Sniper" on him?"

"It's not that simple." Caitlin points at me.

"As much as I wish it was-" I exhale deeply, "Hit me."

Caitlin walks over to her laptop, typing away as Barry, Ralph and I followed her, "So, Cisco's breakthrough came from analyzing identical twins who were hit by the particle accelerator dark matter, cases where one developed powers and the other didn't. The key difference in both cases-"

"The pituitary gland?" Barry reads off the screen.

"Exactly." Caitlin nods, explaining, "In some cases, the pituitary gland metabolizes dark matter, thus manifesting in meta powers."

"So- to turn a meta-human into a human-human," Ralph trailed off.

"We neutralize the dark matter in the pituitary gland. Except there's one problem." Caitlin presses something on the keyboard, "The cure isn't instant. We would have to immobilize Cicada for long enough for the cure to take effect."

"How long will that take?" I ask.

"Best guess, a minute." Caitlin told us.

Ralph scoffs, "It's gonna be damn near impossible to hold him still for one second, much less 60."

"Okay, but we're so close." Barry exhales deeply, "I mean, there's- there's gotta be something we can do."

"We have to think outside the box." I cross my arms.

Barry nods, "Even if we have to think outside of the box."

"I do have one more idea." Caitlin pulls something up, "Van Horn Industries created a peaceful anti-riot device called a Neuro-Stasis Field Generator. It's basically a bio-EMP that can immobilize any living organism within a confined radius." Caitlin pulls up an article, "Of course, the few devices they had built were stolen. I wouldn't even know where to begin looking for them."

"I do." Ralph spoke up, our heads snapping towards him in surprise, "Can you at least try not to look so surprised? Look, if we need this, uh, Neo-Matrix whatever it is, if it's stolen tech, I think I know where to look."

-

"Earl Cox-" I said his name, running a hand through my hair, placing them both the pockets of my leather jacket, "Ralph says you've got some information that could help us."

"Well, turns out, that device you're looking for has been circulating in the underground black market." Earl exclaims.

"Sounds like Amunet Black's territory." Ralph looks at us.

"Eh, Amunet's still MIA." Earl shrugs, "But, believe it or not, her ex-boyfriend is filling the void. You ever heard of Goldface?"

"Yeah, he's stolen more weaponized tech than any criminal in the city." Barry mentions, "CCPD's been looking for his black market for years."

"Oh, aye, and they'll keep on coming up empty." Earl inhales, "You pay at the market, and then poof, your goods turn up a day later in an abandoned warehouse."

"So- by the time we get what we want-" I trail off.

"Goldface will be long gone." Earl makes a sound effect to aid his gesture.

"Well, listen, uh, thanks, Earl." Ralph clears his throat, "And, you know, try to eat some fruit or something."

"Oh, will do." Earl walks past us and stops right between, looking at Ralph and Barry, "Right, then, gents."

His eyes switch to me, "You too, pretty lady. See you around. Hopefully."

Barry grabs my forearm, pulling me into his side, looking at Earl with a look I couldn't decipher, "My wife."

"Very well." Earl walks over to the door, "Just tell them Big Raf sent you."

"Thanks for the tip, Earl." Ralph calls out, closing the door behind him.

I look between Ralph and Barry, the looks on their faces clicking something in my mind, "I know what you're thinking."

"We're supposed to pay Goldface and then just let him get away?" Barry ends up siding with me after seeing the look on my face, looking at Ralph.

"Come on, you said we needed to think outside the box." Ralph backs himself up.

"This is not what I meant." I emphasized, staring at him with slight wide eyes, "This is making a deal with the devil."

Ralph corrected me, "No, this is stopping Cicada."

"Look, I don't like this any more than you do, but in some cases, the ends justify the means." Ralph spoke, "And stopping a psychotic meta-killer who we are literally powerless against, that's one of those cases."

Barry barely nods, "All right."

I gape at him, "All right?"

"All right." Barry nods, squeezing my arm lightly in assurance.

"All right." I deeply exhale, giving in.

-

"All right, we're approaching the position." Barry's voice came in through the comms as Caitlin and I were seated in the van, monitoring from there.

"Copy- these are the coordinates of the black market." I spoke, my eyes glued to the red dot on the screen.

"Team Snow and Frost are standing by for backup." Caitlin informs them.

"Okay." Barry spoke, "What do we do now?"

"I guess we say the magic words." Ralph exclaims, "The streets are paved with gold."

When nothing happened, Barry spoke up, "Maybe you didn't say it loud enou-"

Suddenly, their connection was lost, my eyes furrowing in confusion as did Caitlin's, "Barry? Ralph?"

-

[ barry's pov ]

"Meta cuffs?" I whisper to Ralph, as we were somewhere underground now after losing connection with Zee and Caitlin, a cuff on our wrists, guards surround us, guns aimed at us.

"That's right, power-dampening cuffs fitted with an explosive charge in case you're both metas." A man crouches down in front of us. So tell me, who sent you?"

Ralph took this as a an opportunity to chuckle, "That's really sweet. Look how threatening they're trying to be."

Ralph stood up as I followed his lead, "Boys, uh- we really appreciate all this, but you can relax. Big Raf sent us."

"Big Raf, huh?" The man also stood up, "All right, then. Gentlemen, welcome to the market."

-

"So nobody, including us, knows where we are right now." I walked through the black market with Ralph, eyeing everyone and everything.

"And we are totally powerless." Ralph mentions the obvious.

"Dude, if we make the wrong move in here, these cuffs are gonna be the least of our worries." I cut in, shooting him a look.

"New game plan." Ralph stops, "The antihero of our dynamic duo will find the Field Generator. And you're just gonna stay here and try not to look like a cop. Or a superhero. Or really anything you actually are."

"Just go." I gesture, "I'm fine."

Ralph nods, leaving me alone.

My eyes scan the stands, my hands in my pockets, looking around.

"Hey. You look like a discerning consumer." My head snaps towards the sound, a man speaking to me, "Might I interest you in a little firepower?"

"No, I'm good." I dismiss, looking around.

"Come to a weapons market and you don't want any weapons?" He comments, rounding his table.

"I said I'm good." I declined once more, "I'm here for something special."

"What's more special than a CCPD killer?" He pushed, trying to make a sale.

"What do you mean?" My eyebrows furrow, stepping closer to them.

"That's what's great about these babies." He held up the gun, "Burn through police-issued body armor. I call them toastmasters. Try it for yourself."

I grab the gun from him, aiming and firing at the dummy, the entire thing corrupting into little pieces.

"Can't wait to see cops' faces when these hit the streets." He smirks, "Or what's left of their faces."

He follows up after hearing my silence as I eyed the gun, "If you do decide to make a purchase, I suggest blasting Detective Zee Allen first. Bitch put half of our men behind bars."

My jaw clenches at the mention of my wife and how badly he was speaking about her, as I blink hard, clearing my throat.

I turn, "How much for all of them?"

"Uh, all of them?" He repeats in a questionable tone, "There's a limit per customer. I guess I could ask Goldface for approval."

"No, why don't we just work this out between us?" I step closer, "How much will it cost to take all these off your hands?"

-

[ zee's pov ]

"Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Osmack." I sat down with him at a booth at Jitters, holding my notepad and pen in my hands.

Iris had called me a little after Caitlin and I lost signal and communication with Barry and Ralph, and asked if I would help dig up some information on Cicada.

While she was interviewing someone else, I was interviewing him.

"Oh, call me Brent. And it's no problem. Any interview about union reform is time well spent." He smiles at me.

"What about workers' opinions? I imagine, as a manager, you must get them all the time." I sip my coffee, clicking my pen.

"Yeah, I know most of my guys better than their wives." He chuckles.

"So- I guess it must be difficult when one of them surprises you." I brought up, "Like Orlin Dwyer- you know, the killer that everyone's talking about. Did he ever say anything that indicated how he was feeling or what he was up to?"

He stammers, "No comment."

"Okay, well, did he give you any kind of clue about where he might be now?" I cross my arms, my back leaning against my seat.

"I said no comment." He quickly dismisses.

My eyes squint, my eyebrows furrowing, "Did he threaten you?"

"No-" He started, only for me to cut him off.

I sat up, "I'm a Detective. My job is to figure things out."

He looks away, as I continued, "Look, I know you're scared. A lot of people were scared when Devoe attacked last year. But the Flash defeated him, partially because my friend wrote these articles that encouraged people to come forward with information. We can stop Dwyer. I just need to know what you know."

"Okay, his paychecks went to a P.O. box." He gave in, "But there was a problem once, and I had to forward to his cousin's house. Uh, his name was, uh, Robbie something. Robbie- Robbie Byrne."

I nod, opening my notepad, "That's great, can I have that address?"

-

[ barry's pov ]

"I'm telling you, man, I don't have the authority- to okay a purchase that large." The man told me, as I tried to persuade him to do it.

"Excuse me, um, Bartholomew, a word?" Ralph comes up behind me.

"Just a word, yeah." I paused, walking with Ralph and away from the man.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ralph questions instantly.

"Okay, this guy has got crates of cop-killing guns." I told him, "Would you prefer he sells them to criminals?"

"I would prefer that you not blow our cover, and you're going to blow our cover." Ralph shot right back at me.

"He said stuff about Zee, man, I-" I run a hand through my hair, "He suggested for me to test that out on Zee first- because she most of their men behind bars, I-"

"Come on, man, I asked you to turn off hero mode for, like, ten minutes." Ralph stares at me, indicating that I wouldn't let anyone hurt her anyway.

"Okay, all right, whatever." I huff, "Let's not argue about this here, all right? Did you find the Field Generator?"

"Of course I did." Ralph nods, leading us right into the room where Goldface was in, "But you're not gonna like who has it."

We walk over, Goldface turning and facing us, "What up? What up? And welcome. I hear something special in my collection's- caught your attention."

"You heard right." Ralph confirms, "The Neuro-Stasis-"

"NeuroStasis Field Generator?" He cuts Ralph off, "It's a nasty bit of business, if used properly."

"There's nothing proper about the way we're gonna use it." Ralph kept his straight face on.

"My kind of people. Let's chop it up. Let's make a deal." Goldface agrees, only for the man from way earlier to come and whisper something in his ear.

"Look, we gonna do a deal or what?" Ralph tried.

"Shut your mouth." Goldface stops him, turning some device on his belt on, the meta cuffs flashing, "Unless you wanna be one-handed."

Ralph goes silent, Goldface turning it off, "Thought not."

"See, here's the thing. Scum recognizes scum. I'm scum. And I've survived this long by recognizing the same." Goldface circles Ralph, "Like you. You're scum. I sniffed you coming a mile away."

Ralph replies in a questionable tone, "Thanks?"

"But your partner, I don't sniff nothing on him. And that worries me. So the question is-" Goldface stops in front of me, "Who are you?"

"Well, I can vouch for him." Ralph spoke up, "He's just-"

"I said shut your mouth!" Goldface raises his voice, as I was pushed to my knees, a grunt leaving my lips, a man holding a gun to my head, "I wanna hear it from him."

I stay silent, Goldface staring right at me, "I'm only gonna ask once more. Who are you?"

I pause, rethinking everything. If I was going to get out of here alive, I was going to need to act the part.

"I'm nobody." I looked up, a hard look on my face, "No arrests, no convictions. Not for the Star City Museum heist where atomized lorazepam knocked the guards out or the acid bomb that blew open the Federal Reserve vault last month."

"That was you?" Goldface questioned.

"Not according to police reports." I barely shook my head, "Because the only evidence I leave behind are red herrings for idiot cops to chase down."

"You wanna know who I am?" I stared at him, my expression completely different, my tone low and dangerous, "You can call me the Chemist."

"But I really don't care what you call me." I forcefully stood up, fixing my jacket, "Just stop wasting my time."

Goldface stares at us for a second before breaking, "You should let him do the talking."

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Ralph inhaled deeply, "Uh, so we back in business?"

"With a twist." Goldface heads to his chair, "Got a big job tonight. Could use a guy like the Chemist to cover our tracks. You help me get what I want, I'll give you what you want."

"And what exactly do you want?" I question.

"Ivo Labs has this cutting-edge 3-D printer. Sold it to some hospital." Goldface picked up his drink.

"What's so special about a 3-D printer?" Ralph asks.

"This one prints artificial organs. If I've got it, I can sell life to the highest bidder." Goldface shrugs.

"You want us to rob a hospital?" I question.

"Of course not. I'm not a monster." He smirks, "I want you to rob the lab before it ever gets to the hospital."

I look at Ralph, as Goldface spoke once more, "Smile, boys. Tonight you're working for Goldface."

-

"We roll out in five." Ralph quietly said from next to me, as we leant against the railing, "Look, uh, I don't have to ask you how you feel about this. Stealing from a hospital, that's way more than we bargained for. So if you don't want to do this, I'm-"

I cut him off, "I'll do it."

"You will?" He questioned in surprise.

"Yeah, what choice do I have?" I looked at him, "You warned me to get my head on straight for this job, and I didn't. You had Goldface ready to give us what we needed, and I blew it trying to get those guns off the street, and here we are."

"Barry, this is not your fault." Ralph told me, staring at me.

I looked away, "Yeah, it is. And you were right. If I wanna stop Cicada, I can't be so precious about getting the Flash's hands dirty."

"Sometimes the ends justify the means. I get that now. Let's just get this over with." I walked away from him, dismissing the conversation.

-

[ zee's pov ]

My fist knocks on the door of Orlin Dwyer's home, as I swallowed hard. I was about to face Cicada on my own, distracting him long enough so Iris can sneak out.

She had texted me not even a few minutes ago, telling me that she had practically broke in and he came home minutes later, and that she needed help to get out.

And me being me, I was already at the front door.

I knock once more, only to not get an answer.

My hand reaches for the doorknob, opening the door, Orlin Dwyer getting up from the couch instantly, walking over to me after I stepped in, catching me off guard, "Who the hell are you?"

"I-" I stammer, "I'm sorry, um, the door was unlocked."