#malcolm allen

'...can't read my, can't read my, no he can't read my Poker Face...'

Poker Face wasn't Malcolm's morning alarm so, waking up to the song was confusing and unexpected to say the least. Even more perplexing was the sound of two unfamiliar voices - a man and a woman, he assumed - talking to his left. He focused on the voices after a moment, hoping for answers without having to open his eyes yet.

"He likes this song." The man commented.

"How could you possibly know that?" The woman asked, sounding vaguely exasperated

"Checked his Facebook. I mean, he can hear everything, right?"

Well, they weren't talking about him at least, unless maybe they'd gotten him confused with Barry - Malcolm was more of a rock music fan than the top 40s. The more feminine voice rattled off something about auditory functions but Malcolm had returned his attention to trying to place either voice. Even as the man's voice wandered closer, singing along, he couldn't identify it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a panicked gasp that was very distinctly Barry's to his left and he finally opened his eyes to see what was happening.

"Oh- my god-" The man jumped about a foot as he turned around, full attention on the opposite side of the room.

"Where am I?" Barry slurred and Malcolm assumed he was just as disoriented as Malcolm felt as he pushed himself to a sitting position. The woman - a doctor, he assumed...were they in a hospital? - rushed forward and shone a flashlight into his eyes as Barry winced and groaned.

"Dr. Wells, get down to the Cortex, like, right now." The man - not a doctor or at least not in scrubs, Malcolm noted - said into some sort of pager before joining the woman next to Barry.

Then, his brain caught up. Dr. Wells? As in the Dr. Wells? He tuned back in to the conversation to hear the man say next, "relax. Everything's okay, man. You're at S.T.A.R. Labs."

Barry echoed him, still sounding groggy and out-of-it, but Malcolm's mind was racing. S.T.A.R. Labs? Dr. Wells? What the hell was happening?

The man continued, "I'm Cisco Ramon. She's Caitlin- Dr. Snow."

"I need you to urinate in this." Dr. Snow instructed with such matter-of-fact urgency that Malcolm nearly laughed. He pushed himself up to sit, watching Barry climb out of bed and pull away from the two of them agitatedly, wondering how long it would take any of them to notice he'd woken up too.

"What's going on?" Barry demanded.

"You were struck by lightning, dude." Cisco answered and Malcolm felt worry surge through him even though Barry seemed fine as he turned and caught a glimpse of himself in a nearby monitor.

"Lightning...gave me abs?" Barry asked sounding mystified and Malcolm stifled a laugh, leaning forward to see if he could see the alleged abs - he'd believe that when he saw it.

"Your muscles should be atrophied but instead they're in a chronic and unexplained state of cellular regeneration-" The doctor started, speaking quickly and sounding absolutely fascinated.

"C'mere," Cisco said, tugging Barry to sit again. "You were in a coma."

"For how long?" Malcolm blurted at the same time as Barry, no longer content with staying silent and observing. Had they both been in comas? That seemed...just statistically unlikely, frankly.

"Nine months." A new voice said, and Malcolm ignored the startled expressions Barry, Cisco, and Dr. Snow were giving him in favor of locating the person.

Dr. Wells wheeled into the room and Malcolm furrowed his brow, taking in the man's state. Apparently they hadn't been the only ones injured, unless Malcolm's memory was spotty and Dr. Wells had always been in a wheelchair. He was pretty sure he hadn't, though.

"Dr. Snow, if you would, please set up a wheelchair for Malcolm to use. I'd like to take a short walk and talk to both of our patients if they're up for it. We have a lot to discuss."

Dr. Snow nodded and quickly set about retrieving a wheelchair for Malcolm and S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirts for them both. Barry, still trying to process the shocking revelation, looked at his brother with a mix of relief and confusion.

"You okay?" Barry asked, brow furrowed with worry.

Malcolm took a deep breath, his mind racing to catch up with everything that had happened, and shrugged. "I think so. I mean, I feel fine."

Barry immediately crossed to help Malcolm into the wheelchair as Dr. Snow rolled it to the bedside but Malcolm brushed off the assistance. "I told you, I'm fine, Barr."

Barry hesitated before backing off and letting Malcolm shift himself to the edge of the bed and into the chair. It was a shitty, standard public use chair that made Malcolm wish he had his own, especially as Dr. Wells gestured for them to follow and wheeled himself out with his fancy, electric, custom S.T.A.R. Labs chair. God, this was going to be a pain.

As Dr. Wells led them down the hallway, the fluorescent lights overhead casting a clinical glow, Malcolm and Barry couldn't help but exchange glances, both struggling to wrap their heads around the surreal situation they found themselves in.

Dr. Wells spoke as they moved, "S.T.A.R. Labs has not been operational since FEMA categorized us as a class four hazardous location. 17 people died that night. Many more were injured, myself amongst them."

Malcolm gaped as they rounded a corner and the worst of the damage was revealed - a hole like a giant, angry maw through every floor from the basement where the particle accelerator was housed to the very highest point of the ceiling.

"Jeeze..." Barry muttered, leaning against the rail as he took it all in.

"What happened?" Malcolm asked, turning in his chair to face Dr. Wells. It was almost unsettling with the man's bright blue eyes actually at eye level. The man seemed as though he could stare straight into Malcolm's soul.

Dr. Wells sighed. "Nine months ago, the particle accelerator went online exactly as planned; for 45 minutes, I had achieved my life's dream. And then...there was an anomaly. The electron volts became unmeasurable, the ring under us popped," Dr. Wells gestured as he explained. "Energy from that detonation was thrown into the sky and that, in turn, seeded a storm cloud..."

"That created a lightning bolt that struck me." Barry finished and Dr. Wells nodded.

"That's right; you and Malcolm as well. Two separate lightning bolts struck two different locations miles apart and happened to find the both of you, it's statistically unheard of to say the least. I was recovering myself when I heard about the both of you."

Malcolm opened his mouth to ask a question but Dr. Wells continued, gesturing for them both to follow him back.

"The hospital was undergoing unexplainable power outages every time either of you would go into cardiac arrest - which was actually a misdiagnosis because you see, neither of you were flatlining. Your heartbeats were moving too fast for the EKG to register. Now, I'm not the most popular person in town these days but Detective West and his daughter gave me permission to bring you both here, where we were able to stabilize you."

"Iris?" Barry asked. Malcolm was pretty sure that wasn't the most pressing part of anything Dr. Wells had said.

"Iris, yes." Dr. Wells confirmed with an amused smile. "She came to see you quite often."

"She talks a lot." Dr. Snow commented.

"Also, she's hot," Cisco added and Malcolm rolled his eyes.

"I need to go." Barry said abruptly and Dr. Snow looked scandalized.

"No, you can't!" She insisted and Dr. Wells nodded in agreement. "Now that you're awake, we need to do more tests. You're still going through changes, there's so much that we don't know!"

"I'm fine. Really, I feel normal." Barry said, exchanging a glance with Malcolm, silently asking if he wanted to come with.

Malcolm took a moment, feeling torn. He knew if he stayed, they'd poke and prod at him, chasing answers. The feeling was too close to the helplessness he remembered from before, the surgeries and scans he'd endured that without a choice, all promising to "fix" him after that night when their lives had been completely shattered. But how the hell could they both really be okay after all that?

"My chair's probably at Joe's," Malcolm started, patting the shitty wheelchair's arm for emphasis. "Why don't you grab it and bring it back for me?" There, that seemed like a decent compromise, maybe Drs. Snow and Wells would feel better about that.

Barry and Malcolm should have been asleep - their mom and dad had tucked them into their respective beds almost an hour ago. Instead, the soft glow of the nightlight in the corner cast elongated shadows across the walls and revealed Malcolm, hanging halfway off the top bunk upside-down to talk to Barry, dangling precariously as he whispered to his twin.

"You can't name your Pikachu 'Zapster', Barr," Malcolm said, rolling his eyes, his GameBoy suspended haphazardly from his fingertips, the tiny light attachment clipped to the side nearly blinding Barry as the handheld console swayed.

"But you said I can't just stick with Pikachu, either." Barry argued with a small frown, his own GameBoy in his hands, halfway under the covers.

"Cause that's dumb, you're not Ash. He's your Pikachu, he should have a different name." Malcolm insisted.

"Then why can't I name him 'Zapster'?" Barry asked, sitting up in bed.

"Cause that's dumb, too."

Barry opened his mouth to argue again but his words caught in his throat as he watched the water in their fishtank, along with the fish, begin to float. He powered down his GameBoy and frantically gestured for Malcolm to look too, unable to find the words for what he was seeing.

Malcolm turned his head and dropped his own GameBoy, nearly falling out of bed. "Whoa..."

"Maybe...we should go get Mom and Dad..." Barry said hesitantly, eyes locked on the floating water. Before his brain caught up, his feet had already hit the floor to go do so. Malcolm hauled himself back onto his own bed before climbing down the ladder quickly and joining his twin as they crept towards the door and down the stairs.

The air itself felt thick and stifling, the hall too quiet save for an electric buzzing sound that made the hair on both brothers' necks stand on end. Mom and Dad were probably still up but the lights flickering from the living room didn't look like the blueish glow of the TV.

The boys froze in the doorway to the living room as they both tried to comprehend what they were seeing - it had to be a weird dream or nightmare. Their mother sat in the middle of the floor, looking terrified, surrounded by flashing red and yellow lights like some sort of weird tornado.

"Mom!" Barry blurted in a panic but Malcolm caught his arm before he could run towards her.

"Boys! Don't let him touch you!" Their mother screamed, barely audible under the sound of the crackling lightning and wind from whatever was violently spinning around her.

"Mom!" Malcolm was the one to yell this time, squeezing Barry's wrist almost too tightly in fear.

"Nora!" Their father was suddenly in front of them, pushing them back further, behind him.

"Stay back!" Nora screamed, barely audible over the racket surrounding her.

"Nora! Hold on!" Their father called before turning to Barry and Malcolm. "Run! Get somewhere safe!"

In almost the same second, Barry was gone from Malcolm's side. Another instant later, in a flash of red lightning, Malcolm found himself outside, lying in the grass, nowhere near his brother.

The pain didn't register right away as it often doesn't in situations like this. Confusion and fear spun in Malcolm’s head until he realized his chest ached and he couldn't breathe.

"Mom? Dad?" Barry's voice echoed in the dark street and Malcolm tried to call out to him but all he managed was a choking sound that he was sure nobody could hear at all. He rolled over to try and push himself up - blinding pain pierced his skull and shot up from his lower back before he lost consciousness.

"-looks like he got thrown out the window. Malcolm. Mal, can you hear me? Where's it hurt, kiddo?" Joe West's familiar voice cut through the darkness for a minute and Malcolm moaned in pain, blinking his eyes blearily before letting them fall closed again. "Dammit. How far away's the ambulance?"

A voice Malcolm didn't recognize answered but he couldn't focus on anything else until someone moved him and pain rocketed through his entire body.

Full name: Malcolm Allen

Alias: Mal, Cobalt Blue

Gender: Cisgender man (he/him)

Orientation: Aroace

Age: 24

Nationality: American

Religion: Agnostic

Western Zodiac: Pisces

Eastern Zodiac: Rabbit

Element: Earth

Birth Stone: Aquamarine

Blood-type: B-

Personality Type: INTJ

Disabilities: ADHD, PTSD, paraplegia, dyslexia

Eye color: Hazel

Natural Hair Color: Light brown

Natural Hair Type: 1A

Skin Color: Pale, golden undertones

Height: 6 feet (183 cm)

Weight: 190 lbs (86 kg)

Appearance: Tall with a thin figure, sharp features, and strong arms

Personality: Impatient, altruistic, kind, and strong-willed

Moral Alignment: Lawful Good