Time May Change Me 1: Butterfly Effect

Vanishing Point, Oculus Viewing Chamber

Damien Darkh pulled his hand away from the small pool of light. The images filling his mind, mere glimpses of other times, vanished; only their memory remained.

"I must say, Mr. Thawne, this time-travel ability of yours is impressive," Damien said. "And this... what did you call it? The Oculus? In all my years—and I assure you, I've had many of them—I've never seen anything quite like it."

"Just imagine if you'd seen the Oculus before Hunter's crew tried to destroy it," Eobard Thawne replied. "It seems to be healing itself, but that little window is nothing compared to what we could have done." He smiled. "I take it you're in?"

Damien shook his head. "Rather hard to answer that when you've yet to tell me what I'd be agreeing to."

"I told you," Eobard protested. "We'd be changing our histories... our destinies."

"You did say that much," Damien agreed, "but you never explained how. I imagine you have more planned than simply altering the past, otherwise you'd have little use for me."

Eobard shrugged. "True."

Damien eyed him for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. Keep your secrets for now. But if I am joining you, perhaps you could do me a small favor?"

"What sort of favor?"

"That 'little window' of yours didn't show me more than a glimpse of what we could accomplish," Damien said, "but I did see someone I would like to recruit."

"I already have some other recruits in mind," Eobard said. "But I'm open to suggestions."

"Of course," Damien replied. "And perhaps you've already set your sights on this one; that would be even better. But I rather suspect he won't buy the 'change your destiny' pitch all that easily."

"So what do you propose?"

"We'll need to prepare him, certainly," Damien said. "Ensure that he is ready and willing to join us. Tie off any, ah, loose ends. Any prior commitments that might make him hesitate. We do this properly, and he might even jump at anything we offer him."

Eobard cocked his head. "What sort of loose ends?" he asked.

"Does your doppelganger cord work on people who are already dead?"

Eobard nodded. "I can't impersonate a corpse if that's what you're after," he admitted. "But if you need to fool someone into thinking the person is alive...."

"That's fine, that's exactly what I need. See, there's a man out there, an associate of my mark. Only..." Damien frowned, and he thought carefully about the images he'd seen. "Well, this associate had a job to do, but he got himself killed before he could do it. Now, what I need is for his employers to know that he'd succeeded, but for the one who'd killed him to believe that could not."

Eobard's eyebrows rose more and more through the entire explanation. He scratched his head when Damien was finished. "Let me make sure I understand correctly," he said. "This associate is going to be killed, and then you want me to impersonate him and finish his job for him? Have I got that right?"

Damien merely nodded.

"Okay. Yeah, sure, sounds good. So does this mark have a name? The dead associate, I mean."

"His name is Ben Santini," Damien replied. He considered those brief glimpses of time again. "The job was scheduled for the thirty-first of March, in the year two-thousand. He is not seen again until his body is found in the Central City Bay on the third of April."

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: CHANGES—

Central City, March 30, 2000

Ben peered at his watch under the starlight, but the hour hand still pointed to eleven. He sighed; being an hour early usually meant extra time to prepare, but Leonard was such a stickler for numbers that even an extra minute could throw off the game.

But Leonard wasn't here. He was still in prison after that last job got screwed up. After he'd walked away.

That was why Ben had to be here.

He unlocked the safe house and walked in. "Hey, Micky!" he called out. "You in here?"

"Where else would I be?" Mick's grumble came from the dining room.

Ben followed his voice and found him nursing a bottle of beer. It was nearly full, which meant that he'd just started drinking, or that he was sober enough to hide his empties.

Probably the second one.

"Look, I'm glad you agreed to meet with me—"

"I don't remember you giving me a choice!" Mick snapped. "What do you want, Santini?"

Ben shrugged. "I hear there's been a misunderstanding between Leonard and uncle Vincent. He doesn't belong in prison; his old man's the one who shot that guard, you know he is."

"I know that," Mick agreed. "The cops don't. The only thing Lewis has ever been good at is pinning the blame on someone else, but damn if he isn't actually good at it."

"It's the only reason dad and Vincent keep him around," Ben admitted. "But doing it to one of our own.... Even dad agrees that he's gone too far this time."

Mick peered up at Ben. "Your old man's going to get Len out?"

But Ben shook his head. "Leonard walked, Mick. He had a job to do, and he turned his back on it. Dad needs to know he won't do it again. I thought maybe if you and Lisa could talk to Leonard—"

"No."

Ben blinked. "No? No, you're not going to talk to him?"

"I'll talk to him if I have to," Mick explained. "Lisa's got nothing to do with any of this. That was always the deal."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Where is Lisa, anyway?"

"Out." Mick shrugged.

"Out where?" Ben asked.

"Don't know," Mick replied. "Wouldn't say if I did."

"Mick." Ben shook his head again. "You don't get it. Dad's willing to give Leonard another chance, but he and Vincent are pissed. I told them I'd make sure he behaves, but we all know that Lisa's the only one who can keep him under control. If you really want to protect her, then you need to tell me where she is before they take care of the problem their own way."

Mick narrowed his eyes. "She's safe," he said. "If you're really worried about her, then that's all you need to know."

"She's hiding out with that woman, isn't she? Lenny's girlfriend." Ben sneered. "Too old for him, don't you think? I always pictured him as liking the younger types... the ones that look like jailbait. I just can't imagine him ever wanting to be jailbait."

Mick shrugged. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Incredible. He got his ribs broke because of that cougar—I kept the gang from breaking his skull over her—and the two of you still haven't learned anything about following orders." Ben sighed. "Fine. You don't want to help your friend? I guess I'll have to convince my dad to go with plan B."

Mick's head snapped up. "What's plan B?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business," Ben snapped. He turned around and walked towards the front door.

Mick surged to his feet. "Damn it, Ben, what's plan B? If anything happens to Lisa—"

"Lisa will be safe," Ben said over his shoulder. "That's all you need to know."

"Ben!" Mick clamped a hand on Ben's shoulder.

Ben instinctively reached for the gun he kept hidden in his waistband. He winced.... bad move, he wanted Mick's cooperation for this job, not his compliance.

But too late. Mick had seen the motion, and both men rushed to grab the gun. Not to use it—Mick had a gun of his own—but each to keep the other from taking it.

"Get off me!"

"Let go!"

"Watch it, you're gonna—"

"Don't—"

BLAM!