There's a saying that "turbulent times" describes the arc of an era, not a Tuesday. Jude was beginning to think Central City hadn't gotten that memo.
After waving Joe, Barry, and the rest of the detective contingent off, he rode the tricycle back downtown, set up the serving window, and told himself that a witnessed robbery and a police interrogation before noon was already a full day's worth of excitement. Statistically speaking, things should calm down.
Things did not calm down.
"Hey, Cisco."
Francisco Ramon was walking toward the truck with his head down, turning something over in his mind so intently he nearly missed the truck entirely. Jude's voice snapped him back.
"Oh — hey." Cisco blinked, refocused. "Yeah, four hamburgers and a piece of chocolate. I'm bringing stuff back for Barry."
"Four again." Jude reached for the spatula. "Starting to think that's just the standard unit of measurement around here."
Cisco didn't laugh. He was already looking back at his phone, and the usual energy he carried — quick, warm, slightly chaotic — was running at about half power. There was something sitting behind his eyes that he was working very hard not to show.
"Everything good?"
"Fine." Too fast. "I was just thinking — the Doctor usually only eats Big Belly Burgers. I don't know if he'll go for this."
"Has anyone ever not gone for what I made?"
"...fair point."
Cisco took the bag and left. Jude watched him go, then pulled out his phone.
He's hiding something. And it's bothering him.
He filed it and kept scrolling. The fan network's feed had a few items worth checking.
First up: Barry, Felicity, Eddie, and Iris were apparently all attending the same trivia night. Four people, two overlapping romantic entanglements, one pub quiz. Absolutely not my problem. He moved on.
Next: the Condac Dynasty Diamond collection was officially opening at the Central City Museum. Today — Saturday. The same diamond Snart had tried to pull off a truck with a crane that morning. If Barry hadn't showed up, there wouldn't be much of an exhibition to open.
Not immediately relevant. He kept scrolling.
Then the feed cut to Star Labs.
The lobby camera showed an empty room. Jude frowned and worked through the feeds until he found them — storage room, lower level. Wells was standing in front of an open equipment cabinet with the expression of a man who had been very carefully patient for a very long time and had just run out.
Cisco stood in front of him, shoulders rounded, looking like a kid hauled into the principal's office who already knows exactly how this ends. Caitlin was off to one side, silent, not moving.
"How long has this weapon been missing?" Wells' voice through the audio feed was sharp and clipped.
"One day. Maybe two." Cisco's voice was quiet. "A security staff member didn't come in today. He might have taken it."
Jude leaned back against the truck.
Of course. Captain Cold's freeze gun — the signature weapon, the one that showed up in essentially every version of this story — had been sitting in a Star Labs cabinet, and now it wasn't. From a narrative standpoint, this was less "theft" and more "the universe running its own continuity check." Cisco was genuinely not at fault here. The thing was going to find its way to Snart in most timelines regardless of where it started.
Wells did not appear to be taking the cosmological view.
"This laboratory does not keep weapons." His voice had climbed into a register Jude associated with people who were very close to losing control of it entirely. "You built this without telling me. A weapon like this can hurt people — it can hurt Barry. Do you understand how much—" He stopped. Restarted. "Do you know how much effort I have put into keeping Barry Allen safe?"
"Find it. Now."
The feed went quiet. Jude watched Cisco and Caitlin exchange a look and leave the room.
That, Jude thought, is not just anger about a stolen gun. Wells had always kept his emotions on a tight leash. The Danton Black had left some kind of hairline fracture in that composure. This was the crack showing.
He shook his head slowly.
"Cisco, you're not cut out to be Batman."
The thought was almost fond. Secretly building contingency weapons against the people you worked with — preparing for the worst-case scenario involving someone you considered family — was very specifically a Gotham City habit. More precisely, it was the habit of one particular pointy-eared billionaire orphan who had made paranoia into a lifestyle and somehow gotten every other hero to just accept it.
Batman got away with it because Gotham had broken him in ways that were visible and well-documented, and because when the genuinely catastrophic events arrived, he usually held the line. The rest of the Justice League had learned to tolerate the contingency files the way you'd tolerate an eccentric uncle — not ideal, but he shows up when it counts.
Cisco wasn't operating from that kind of established credit. He and Barry and Caitlin and Wells had built something that functioned more like a family than a team, which meant the secret weapon hit differently.
The tricycle's engine hummed pointedly from where it was parked.
"And what about your contingency plans for dealing with speedsters?"
"That's completely different," Jude said, without missing a beat. "That was a general anti-speedster protocol. Not a Barry-specific plan."
And even if it were Barry-specific, that's clearly Batman's influence. The man is contagious.
Another alert came through the feed before he could put his phone away.
"Central City PD reports a homicide in downtown. Victim tentatively identified as Yori Brooke — a high-tech arms dealer with an extensive record who has evaded arrest for several years. Cause of death: suspected extreme-cold exposure. No refrigeration equipment or low-temperature environment present at the scene. Investigation ongoing."
Jude stared at the message.
The freeze gun found Snart faster than expected.
"Three hamburgers, please."
The voice was familiar. Jude looked up on reflex — then kept his expression neutral with some effort.
Snart stood at the window in a dark trench coat, one hand already moving toward his pocket. He caught Jude's look and offered a slight, measured smile.
"Quietly," he said. "I'd rather not lose access to the best food in the city center over a misunderstanding."
He set the money on the counter.
"Two minutes. I have somewhere to be."