Ch - 90 Something's wrong?

After capturing Hartley and bringing him to S.T.A.R. Labs, "Barry" lingered with the team as they escorted Hartley to the metahuman prison known as the Pipeline. Swayam, ever watchful, kept a careful eye on him, sensing that something was off ever since "Barry" had returned with Hartley. He had been silent and calculating, far from the usual quick-witted, jovial Barry that Swayam was familiar with.

On the way to the Pipeline, Hartley wasted no time in antagonizing his captors, starting with "Barry." With a mocking grin, Hartley taunted, "Being scooped up by a guy clad in head-to-toe leather is a long-time fantasy of mine. So, thanks for that."

"Barry" didn't dignify the comment with a response, but the others weren't as restrained. Hartley turned his attention to Cisco next, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, well, well. You've lasted a lot longer than I thought you would, Cisco. Impressive."

Cisco, already irritated by Hartley's cockiness, shot back immediately. "And you didn't last ten seconds against the Flash."

Hartley ignored the jab, continuing his verbal assault. "The Flash, huh? Cool name, not gonna lie. But speaking of names, I was thinking of calling myself the Pied Piper."

"Hey!" Cisco snapped, clearly not amused. "I assign the nicknames around here. Though... that one's not bad."

Satisfied that he'd gotten under Cisco's skin, Hartley then turned his attention to Caitlin. His tone became crueler as he said, "Caitlin, you've changed. Moved on from losing Ronnie, have you?"

Before Caitlin could respond, "Barry" sharply interrupted, his tone filled with unexpected anger. "Shut the hell up." The sudden outburst caught everyone off guard, including Cisco, who quickly pushed Hartley forward. "Stay in front of me," he growled, moving Hartley further down the corridor toward his cell.

Swayam's suspicion deepened. "Barry" had acted out of character, particularly in his aggressive response to Hartley's comment about Ronnie.

Once they had Hartley locked inside the Pipeline, Cisco initiated a body scan to check for any hidden devices or threats. The scan quickly revealed something unusual—a foreign metallic object in Hartley's ears. Cisco, trying to maintain his tough-guy persona, crossed his arms and glared at their prisoner. "Alright, Hartley, take those things out of your ears."

Hartley's expression hardened as he refused. "I can't do that. I suffered head trauma when the particle accelerator exploded. My hearing was severely damaged. Without these, I'm in pain you can't even imagine."

Cisco hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, but Hartley used the opportunity to shift the conversation. He inspected the cell and, with a note of admiration, commented, "Very clever, repurposing the antiproton cavities into confinement cells. Wells' idea, I'm sure."

Cisco, unwilling to let Hartley give credit to Wells, corrected him. "It was mine, actually."

While the others were focused on Hartley, "Barry" was unnervingly quiet, taking in everything with an intensity that didn't fit. He seemed to be struggling, as if piecing something together. And then, as though a he had remembered something, "Barry" suddenly spoke up, his voice filled with certainty. "Cisco, see if those devices in his ears are generating low-level electromagnetic pulses."

Cisco frowned, confused by the odd request. "You want me to scan for e-bombs?"

Swayam, still keeping a close watch, waited for "Barry" to answer. There was something about the way he made that suggestion that didn't feel like the Barry he knew. "Barry" seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then he quickly covered. "I just... I mean, don't you think that could have been what was interfering with the comms earlier?"

Cisco nodded, buying the explanation. "Alright, good point. I'll check."

As Cisco performed another scan, Swayam couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. "Barry's" explanation had been reasonable, but there was something off in his delivery, something almost forced. His instincts told him that whatever was happening here wasn't as simple as comm interference.

The scan confirmed what "Barry" had suspected—Hartley's devices were indeed generating low-level electromagnetic pulses. "Well, well," Cisco said, his voice smug. "Trying to go all Mission Impossible on us? Use those things to bust out of here?"

Hartley offered no response, but his smirk was enough.

At that moment, Harrison Wells entered the room, rolling in on his wheelchair. "Your silence speaks volumes," he said in a low foreign language before continuing in English, "Pump in some sound stimuli to counteract his tinnitus. Then we'll make some non-explosive replacements for him."

Wells glanced at Hartley one last time before adding, "We'll deal with you later," and wheeled himself out of the room.

As Wells left, Swayam discreetly turned his focus back to "Barry." Using his pathokinesis, he tuned into Barry's emotions, hoping to gain more insight into what was going on. To his surprise, what he sensed wasn't the usual mix of confidence, determination, or even frustration that Barry often felt in difficult situations. Instead, what hit Swayam was a wave of complex emotions—rage and loathing at the forefront, all directed at Wells.

Swayam's heart skipped a beat. Why is Barry feeling such intense hatred toward Wells? The Barry he knew wouldn't harbor those feelings unless he had learned the truth about Wells' hidden identity. But if Barry had discovered who Wells really was, surely he wouldn't just stand by. Barry wouldn't be able to hide his anger like this. Something was wrong—deeply wrong.