You freeze in the doorway, the warm, sleep-deprived haze that had settled over you evaporating instantly at the sound of that voice— a voice you had hoped to never hear again. The sight of him, standing over the cradle in the soft nightlight glow of the nursery, sends a jolt of ice through your veins.

Eobard Thawne.

You never thought he would find you here— you’d done everything right, or at least you thought you did —and he’d found you anyways. “Get away from them.” Your voice shakes in fear of what he could do to your son.

He laughs, a cold, brittle sound that doesn't reach his eyes. "You chose to hide my legacy from me?" He gestures around the quaint little room, the walls you had painted a cheerful yellow, the mobile you had carefully assembled.

"I did it to protect them," you plead, your eyes darting from him to the cradle and back. "To protect us from you."

"I was going to give you everything," Eobard hisses, the red lightning sparking around him again, flickering in the shadows. "And you throw it away for this… quiet, mundane existence?" He shakes his head, a twisted sort of disbelief on his features. "You left me, and took the one thing that was truly mine."

"They are not a thing!" you cry out, taking a cautious step into the room. "They are a baby, Eobard. Innocent. Something you could never understand."

He speeds forward, an orange blur that stops inches from your face. The sudden displacement of air makes the baby stir more actively. "You forget who you're dealing with," he murmurs, his voice laced with a dark promise.

“I can tear this world apart and put it back together again in the blink of an eye. Don't make me do the same to your 'new life'." He pulls back, his eyes fixed on you, cold and calculating. "Now, pack a bag. We're leaving."