Catalyst (probably not going to update anymore, don't watch the show anymore)

It had been a few hours after my dad had stormed out, and Trey and Barry were bonding over XBOX games; I used to love playing XBOX with Cisco, but I'm way too busy and stressed most of the time to do it now.

The boys were sitting on the floor and I was lying on the couch working on Barry's speedforce formula on my tablet. The speedforce make zero fucking sense, because it defies almost every single law of speed and velocity in thermodynamics.

I was streaming my work to Harry at Star-Labs, who was just as stumped as I was. It was late, I was tired, and I was stressed beyond belief. Nothing was making any sense and I was getting so mad at myself and pretty much everybody around me.

Sighing, I stood up from the couch, and told my brother and Barry, "I'm going to bed. Bar, you might want to get some rest if you're going to help Cisco out at Star-Labs tomorrow."

"I think I'll be fine," Barry responded, not taking his eyes off the TV screen.

I rolled my eyes, "Fine," then I opened the door to our bedroom that was next to the TV, "but don't complain to me when you're exhausted tomorrow morning."

"Uh-huh, you too honey," he said, not listening to what I had even said.

________

I worked in the Cortex alongside Barry and Cisco, but we were all silent; Barry was reading every single book we had in the facility, Cisco kept staring at Jay's helmet and fetching Barry books, and I was going over data I'd collected from Zoom, Eobard Thawne, and Barry.

Speedsters don't make any sense, duh. What I mean by that is that I noticed that all three of them move their feet at relatively the same speed, but something set Eobard and Barry apart drastically.

I began making an algorithm to compare the three speedster's data so I could visualize and get a better idea of what was so different from them.

Ever since my dad had his meltdown, I've been ever more stressed out than usual, because it would really be nice if Barry and my dad could be around each other for more than ten minutes for graduation tonight. I was finally graduating today, I would finally be Dr. Carter.

Taking my white headphone out from my desk drawer, I plugged the cord into the computer, and placed them over my ears to listen to music so I wouldn't slowly go insane from the noises Barry was making in the Cortex.

This algorithm wasn't too difficult to program, but I still hated it . . . with a fury. Did I have to decorate the speedster's suits in the program? No, but did I do it anyway? Yes.

Sitting back in my chair, I watched the algorithm calculate every single difference between the speedsters; Eobard was the fastest by just a little bit, then it was Zoom, and then Barry, who was marginally slower than Zoom.

It surprised me that Eobard was the fastest of the three, but at the same time it didn't; he was always so dedicated to everything he did.

I watched the numbers being generated at the bottom of the screen, under each figure, and they were being averaged from every single run-data we had on them. Finally, the numbers stopped flashing, and displayed every speedster's average time their feet touched the ground while running.

Barry was the longest, then it was Zoom, and finally, Eobard was the shortest.

I took my headphones off my ears, and announced to Barry and Cisco, "I found something weird, guys."