Five Years Later: 1994
John and Caitlyn were now five years old, growing up in a home that felt like a sanctuary. It was a quiet afternoon. Mary was in the kitchen, the rhythmic sound of chopping vegetables and the aroma of dinner filling the air. In the living room, Jules sat on the sofa, nursing a cup of coffee and buried behind the morning newspaper.
Caitlyn sat on the rug, a wide beam on her face as she played with her favorite Barbie. The doll, sporting blonde hair and a cyan dress, was currently embarking on a grand adventure across the coffee table.
Caitlyn stood up and toddled over to her father, tugging on his sleeve. "Papa, will you please play with me?"
Jules lowered his paper just enough to look into his daughter's eyes. He smiled warmly and patted her unique hair. "Not right now, sweetie. Dinner will be ready soon. Why don't you go play with your brother for a bit, okay?"
John's POV:
I sat nearby, fiddling with my small, stubby fingers. Over the last five years, I had confirmed my suspicions: I had definitely been reborn. But the real shocker was the name. Caitlyn Snow. Wait a minute, I thought, my mind racing. Snow? Science family? If this is the same Caitlyn Snow who works with Barry Allen... then I'm in the DC Universe. This is a world of speedsters, aliens, and meta-humans. How am I supposed to survive in a place where the city gets leveled every other Tuesday?
I started to stand up, intending to go see what Mom was cooking, when something caught my eye.
Caitlyn had climbed onto the edge of the sofa near Dad, distracted by her doll. She was leaning precariously over the armrest, her center of gravity shifting. Dad was back behind his newspaper, completely oblivious.
She's going to fall, I realized.
3 Seconds Earlier
As I watched my sister slip, something strange happened. A violent, black spark of lightning flickered across my vision.
The world changed. The sound of the kitchen vanished, replaced by a low, heavy hum. Everything slowed down. I saw a drop of coffee suspended in mid-air above Dad's mug. I saw the individual fibers of the newspaper as it began to flutter. I saw Caitlyn rotating toward the floor in agonizingly slow motion.
My heart hammered against my ribs—not like a human heart, but like a hummingbird's wings. I tried to rush toward her, but the sheer sensory overload was too much. My head felt like it was being split open by a bolt of lightning.
Before I could take a single step, the world turned red, then black.
Jules felt a sudden shift in the air. His fatherly instincts screamed "danger" just as Caitlyn slipped. In a blur of motion, he tossed the newspaper and his coffee aside, lunging across the cushions. He caught Caitlyn just inches before her head hit the hardwood floor.
Caitlyn giggled, thinking it was a new game. "Again, Papa! Again!"
Jules let out a breath of pure relief, clutching her tight. "No 'again,' young lady. You nearly gave me a heart attack."
He started to set her down, but his eyes landed on John. The boy was slumped on the floor, motionless. A dark trail of blood was leaking from his nose.
"Mary! Something's wrong with John! He's unconscious!" Jules shouted, his voice cracking with panic.
Mary dropped the knife in the kitchen and ran into the room. Seeing her son pale and bleeding, her face went white. "Get the car keys. We're going to the hospital. Now!"
The Hospital"There's nothing physically wrong with him," the doctor explained later, handing Jules a prescription. "It could have been a sudden drop in blood pressure or a mild shock. Give him these medicines, make sure he gets plenty of fluids, and let him rest. He'll be as good as new in a few days."
Jules and Mary let out a collective sigh of relief. "Thank you, Doctor."
Jules looked at his sleeping son, then at Caitlyn, who was clutching his leg, looking confused and scared. "Mary, why don't I take Caitlyn home and get her fed? You stay here with him?"
Mary nodded, her hand never leaving John's. "Go. I'll call if anything changes."
The VoidJohn stood in a familiar darkness, but this time, he wasn't alone. In front of him hovered a massive orb of pitch-black energy, pulsing with jagged streaks of ebony lightning.
As he stared at it, that same sensation returned—the feeling of time stretching and bending. Then, as quickly as it came, the feeling vanished.
"What... what is this place?" John whispered.
As he spoke, the orb began to react. It shriveled, condensing from the size of a beach ball down to the size of a marble. John hesitated. He felt a magnetic pull toward the tiny spark of power.
"Well, it's all or nothing," John muttered to the void. "I've already died once. How much worse can it get? At least this thing might light up the room."
He steeled his nerves and reached out. The moment his finger brushed the black spark, it didn't burn. It drifted into his skin, dissolving into his veins like ink in water.
The dark space began to tremble. The boundaries of his mind started to shrink inward, faster and faster. Panic flared as the darkness collapsed. He felt like he was falling through a tunnel of light and wind.
"Oh, crap! Not again!" John screamed. "Am I really dying twice before I even turn six?! Help me!"
In the quiet hospital room, Mary was startled out of her book by a blood-curdling scream. She nearly fell out of her chair as John bolted upright in bed, his eyes wide and wild.
"AAAHHHHHHH! Help!"
"John! John, honey, it's okay!" Mary scrambled to his side, pulling him into a fierce hug. "I'm here. You're safe, sweetie.
Mommy's got you."
John was shaking, his skin deathly pale and cold to the touch. He buried his face in his mother's shoulder, his small heart finally slowing down. But deep within him, hidden beneath his skin, a tiny spark of black lightning flickered, waiting for the next time the world needed to slow down.