Chapter Text
Central Municipal Office, RY 6
The Primary Municipal Office in Central City(also known as the Head Office, Central Municipal Office and Officio Municipalis Primaris) is the kind of building that in previous eras, would be called a castle town or royal palace rather than a singular building, and even in this era, looms over everything else in Central City with its sprawling, sky-scraping bulk.
Barry knew full well when they named the place that the proper translation of “Primary Municipal Office” is actually “Officium Municipale Primarium”, and that “Officio Municipalis Primaris” is utter gibberish no matter how you look at it, especially given that “primaris” isn’t actually a word.
However, they also know that Superman(ahem, High Councillor Superman ) has never heard of Warhammer 40k and doesn't actually speak Latin, and Barry, for lack of any better options, has decided to channel the Adeptus Administratum in everything they do.
Superman has somehow also never read 1984, and in fact banned and criminalized its sale and ownership along with that of all other “seditious and politically outdated” books via the Seditious Materials Act once he got really going, so Barry was free to finagle their own office into being called Room 101.
Yes, it’s petty, but being petty is pretty much the only way they can entertain themself without doing anything too blatantly treasonous, and anyone who gets the reference but doesn't have clearance will avoid poking around in their office. (Especially since rooms are listed on maps by their official technical codes, rather than with purpose-based labels.)
Barry also made sure to fill the area around their office with small Department of Peace storage rooms, which by the official protocol for assignment of technical room codes are given a technical room code identical to that of their department’s code with the addition of a lowercase letter in sequence.
Incidentally, the reason their office is called Room 101 is because the Department of Peace has the department code 101, and department heads’ offices have room codes identical to their department’s code, with the addition of "Room" on the labeling.
The end result is an ominous “Room 101” at the center of the building(listed in bright red, of course, to mark the fact that it’s an area restricted to personnel of clearance level Alpha without accompaniment), with a hallway leading up to it lined with five rooms of equal size on either side, labeled only as “101a” through “101j”.
If anyone asks why the layout is like that, or why the hallway and storage rooms are just as restricted as their office, Barry cites the need to ensure that their personal archives of high-clearance paperwork remain secure, and that they need to have supplies of food and office supplies and a place to sleep close on hand for maximum efficiency.
(And yes, they've made it an official policy that everyone who needs to see them in person must be “referred to Room 101” instead of “sent to see the Head Secretary of the Council”, which is officially due to how many titles they hold.)
The end result is that people don’t usually bother them or go anywhere near their office unless they've scheduled a meeting with them, the Insurgency stays far, far away from their office, and Barry has to deal with Yellow Lantern(Barry refuses to call him Hal, except to his face- this is not the Hal he fell in love with) admiring his ability to inspire terror in the innocent.
This elaborate sham, incidentally, isn’t just a matter of pettiness. It’s also the only reason they were able to hide an entire child from the Regime, even with their 17-hour-day scheduled precisely down to the minute.
In another loop(in a better world), Wally would have been born live with his father watching and grown up a normal(ish) child in the public eye, instead of hatching from a carefully-hidden egg and being hidden from Hal, the Regime, the Insurgency and quite literally everyone besides Barry himself.
All Barry could do was set up their bed in room 101b with a few extra blankets and then block their usual seven and a half hours of "sleep"(he’s fine with only about an hour and a half of sleep, but there’s no reason to tell anyone that) for labor and initial egg care, before moving onto reviewing ballpoint pen manufacturing standards at 7:31. Anything more would have tipped people off to what he was doing.
Barry’s not entirely sure why pregnant speedsters are equipped to shift to an external third trimester of gestation(AKA laying an egg) if stressed, alone and lacking in resources, but it’s the only reason hiding Wally and their pregnancy was even an option, and he’s grateful for that.
After all, if Superman knew about Wally, Wally would have grown up being forcefed Regime propaganda and having all of his dreams and will to dissent crushed, maybe even used as a tool to keep Barry in line or strip them of some of their authority- all while Barry could do nothing but smile and watch and hope their smile didn’t crack badly enough for anyone else to see.
Barry had been utterly terrified when they realized that they were already pregnant by Yellow Lantern when they looped in, and that the Regime had progressed to the point where there was no stopping it, just finding a way to avoid as much harm and collateral damage as possible.
They could have killed Superman, then and there. They could have done that so easily, and even now, sometimes the urge to end this charade and end the problem at the source rises up and threatens to crack their carefully calculated mask of willing subservience and true belief in the Regime. (Or maybe just his humanity.)
But that wouldn’t actually solve anything. Killing Superman would only force Barry into the role of Dictator 2.0, except without any actual control or long-term authority- and likely escalating everything into a cycle of eternal bloody revolution ending at best in their deposition and life imprisonment and at worst in their equally bloody murder.
They would be hated by the Insurgency for being more of the same, hated by the other Leaguers for being so willing to kill someone they knew and loved, hated by the public for the shameless power-grab and escalation of violence, hated by everyone on the planet for something they didn’t want to do in the first place.
No, the only way to change things, to turn the world back onto a path of freedom and hope instead of tyranny and fear, was by being patient and subtle, making sure that all of the dominoes are in place when the time comes to overthrow the Regime.
To the Insurgency and Regime alike, the Flash is nothing more than a bureaucratic toady, utterly loyal to the institution they serve and the cause of the Regime, their only protests being ones of budget, efficiency and logistics rather than of morals.
No one sees the greater picture, except Barry and Wally. That’s how they like it.
They don’t see the way the overly convoluted and publically-accessible plans to revamp cities and the schedules and timetables listed alongside them coincidentally leave Insurgency bases untouched for as long as possible and with warning of when the inspection crews will come around.
They don’t see the way that the Department of Transportation’s policies, especially their lax uniform policy and their use of temporary local couriers to meet surges in demand, are intentionally designed so that it’s extremely easy to impersonate a DepTran courier and get away with it.
They don’t see the way that Barry’s revamp of power infrastructure not only means that electricity is stably and freely available, generated relative to demand, safe to use and environmentally friendly, but that it’s oh-so-easy to steal electricity from the grid for a hidden base illegally and have no one notice, and just as easy to mess with the power distribution in an area without long-term or obvious damage.
(After all, the same systems that let workers safely and quickly shut down the electricity in a limited area to make repairs or do maintenance also mean that anyone who knows the proper codes and which buttons to press can cut the power to a very specific area ranging from an entire city block to one room in a building.)
This is not the kind of game he’s used to playing. His baseline self could not pull off anything close to what he’s done, no matter how determined he was.
Barry, looping Barry, has been alive for millennia, and they've learned a lot of things in that time. Even if they didn’t have a Blue Lantern ring helping him out(spark, Blue’s probably the only thing keeping him sane and his plans from unraveling due to a slipup), they're easily able to keep everything on course, courtesy of knowing when to fold it and when subtlety and patience is necessary, as well as what will happen why.
<Superman is on his way to your office to discuss the treaty with Atlantis. Be ready to greet him.> Blue informs him. <I know you have the final draft ready, but it would probably be a good idea to review it, at least to look like you’re reviewing it.>
Barry doesn’t thank Blue for the warning. It’s a ring AI, and even if Blue Lantern rings are more…people-ish…than Green Lantern rings and it uses first-person pronouns and let them name it, everyone thinks that the ring on their finger is the same Flash ring they've always used and not a Blue Lantern ring in disguise, and there were be questions raised if Superman heard them talking to someone that’s not supposed to be there.
(Also, Green Lantern Ring 2814.1 is currently hidden in a drawer in the cabinet under their desk, sulking about Hal abandoning it for a Sinestro Corps ring and trying to convince Barry to wield it, and they really don’t want Superman finding it.)
Barry quickly shuffles a print copy of the final draft of the Regime-Atlantis treaty onto their desk, makes sure their computer’s screen is suitably full of emails, paperwork and technical documents and starts flipping through the absolute doorstopper of a document. (It’s not quite as bad as some documents- it fits in a single 3-inch binder.)
Superman arrives a few moments later, walking into Barry’s office like he owns the place(which he doesn’t. Not in any sense of the word), at a pace that seems glacially slow until Barry remembers to shift himself back down to match Kryptonian speed.
“Flash, do you have the treaty finalized?” Superman asks. At least he remembered to call them Flash this time- only people Barry trusts get to use their name, though they tell everyone it's purely professionalism. (Which, nowadays, is pretty much just Wally and Blue.)
Barry gestures to the blue binder marked with a little fish sticker on their desk. “It’s right here.” (The stickers are officially for easy visual identification of documents on specific topics. Unofficially, they’re cute and fun, and Barry never made regulations on which stickers you can use for official documents, other than the type of adhesives used, where they can be disposed of and adherence to the Subversive Imagery Act.)
Superman leans down, grabs the binder off Barry’s desk and begins to flip through it. (Without asking. Again.)
It’s not worth getting mad about, Barry reminds himself. In his mind, you invited him to take it, and contradicting him would be a bad idea.
Barry reviews and replies to a few more emails while Superman’s sitting there reading through the treaty- they have other things to do, and other people and departments that need their input, while Superman is wasting Barry’s time.
Superman almost never reads the entirety of the documents Barry gives him, and Barry can rely on the fact that he’ll probably start skimming after the first dozen or so pages and give up completely after a few hundred pages if the document is dry enough. (They've gotten very good at making documents very dry and lengthy while not resorting to blatant padding or lorem ipsum over the centuries.)
Sure enough, Superman only gets halfway through the treaty before his eyes glaze over completely and he shuts the binder. (Without folding the pages over, dammit. Barry’s just glad that this isn’t the copy they're going to deliver to Aquaman and that regulation printing paper doesn’t crimp easily.)
“You’ve outdone yourself once again, Flash. This is everything I asked for and more.” Superman hums admiringly, and Barry ducks his head and paints a happy grin on their face at the praise.
Non-looping Flash looked up to Superman as the first superhero and a close friend and hung onto his every word of praise, and while Barry toned it down as much as they could get away with as they “matured”, “re-evaluated their priorities” and “gained real-world experience”, they still have to pretend that he doesn’t hate Superman’s entitled smugness and everything he stands for.
(They've found that it helps when they focuse on the fact that the time and effort they've put into his work isn’t going completely unappreciated, rather than who’s doing the appreciation and why, or when they focuses on something else tangentially related that makes them want to smile. Like the fact that it’s almost over, and the final pieces are finally falling into place.)
“I’ll deliver the treaty in person to Poseidonis for signature and ratification on the 15th.” Barry continues. “I’ve already plotted it out on my schedule for this week, and it shouldn’t take more than five minutes to exchange diplomatic pleasantries and get everything signed.”
Of course, that definitely won’t happen. If he timed everything correctly(and he’s 95% sure he did), the Justice League from Earth-One should be arriving on the 15th, and he’ll get a chance to introduce himself to the alternate Aquaman instead.
This time, they'll make sure Billy isn’t accompanying them. As much as they care about Billy(their little brother, in lightning if not blood), and knows that he can be turned away from the Regime with enough effort and sympathy(he's already most of the way there), Barry doesn’t want too many variables in the mix and Aquaman has always had a short temper, especially faced with injustice and threats to Atlantis.
With Billy present, it will probably turn into a fight, and Barry might have to reveal more than they want to in order to shut it down before anyone can get seriously hurt.
Alone, they can control the flow of the conversation, reinforce their image of a beleaguered paper-pusher married to their job who’s lost all sight of their original ideals, and most importantly, one that’s frustrated with their superiors and workload and could potentially be an asset.
(Alone, they don’t have to wear more than a perfunctory service smile, don’t have to make it look like they're really happy with what they're doing rather than acting the part for a paycheck.)
Superman nods in acknowledgement, and finally steps back out of Barry’s office, cape swishing as he strides out the door. (Which he remembered to close this time.)
Barry carefully doesn't breathe a sigh of relief when Superman leaves, and instead take a sip of their lemon tea. (Not coffee. Coffee, and pretty much everything else caffeinated, does horrible, horrible things to speedsters. Herbal tea they can down by the barrel with no consequences other than needing to go to the bathroom.)
Now, they've got two more minutes of managing their inbox and then it’s on to drafting and issuing the latest manufacturing recalls for one minute and thirty seconds before it’s time for this morning’s ten-minute exercise period.
(Lightning, they can’t wait to be able to run. Speedsters are not built for 24/7 desk jobs, and Barry can only dream of being able to get away with having more than two ten-minute exercise breaks a day, what with with Superman pushing ever more duties onto his eternally-willing and hyper-efficient Head Secretary and insisting they have to be the one to do it instead of letting the perfectly qualified department heads do what they were hired and paid to do.)
<It will only take 3.5 more minutes, Superman is currently in Brazil for the press conference you scheduled and scripted for him yesterday, and the Justice League arrives tomorrow.> Blue reminds them. <Have hope. Everything will turn out okay.>
“You say that, and yet…” Barry half-heartedly gestures to the door, and the hallway that leads outside. “I’m at the heart of a dystopia, and the only thing keeping it from collapsing.”
<You’re the only thing keeping society from collapsing into bloody anarchy and the trains and cargo drones running on time until you’re free to change it for the better.> Blue corrects. <The people love you, and all you have done for them- even those that hate the Regime with their whole hearts must acknowledge the fact that you’ve legitimately made the world a better place to live in.>
<No one outside the most isolated rural or disaster zones has gone hungry in years. Power and water have been freely accessible to everyone for just as long, if occasionally unreliable in some areas. Medical care is available easily with minimal stress or hassle. Clothing sizes are consistently standardized across countries and brands. Gay and polyamorous marriage and adoption is legal everywhere. Poverty doesn't exist anymore. I can list many, many more. You have done immense and inarguable good, and even the Insurgency can see that.>
“...They’d still kill me in a heartbeat.” Barry mutters. “Lightning, I’m a terrible Blue Lantern. Can’t even muster hope for myself.”
<If you were unworthy of wielding the Blue Light of Hope, I would have found someone else.> Blue says sternly. <Hope can be dimmed, hope can be stifled, but the embers will always burn into a flame. Hope springs eternal, and it cannot be crushed forever. There will always be a spark.>
There’s a pause, as Blue reviews their records. <Also, only 13% of the Insurgency would be willing to kill you, as compared to 88% willing to kill Superman, and 22% of the Insurgency unwilling or unable to kill anyone at all.>
“That’s still 13%." Barry points out. "13% is a lot on a demographic scale.”
<I’m also including the independent Insurgency cells unaffiliated with the Batman-led “main” insurgency. Less than 1% of Batman Insurgency members would be willing to kill you, it’s mostly the bigots, maniacs, terrorists, cults, criminals and other assorted people who have an objection to any authority or belief other than their own, and thought that the world before the Regime was just as much of a dystopia.>
“Ah. You’re manipulating the statistics again.” Barry huffs. “Should have known. Still, how many of those fringe cells are there, if they’re 13% of the Insurgency?”
<Thousands, especially if you include people in prison.> Blue replies. <Revolution is a very human concept, second only to bigotry. Not all reasons to oppose evil are good or admirable.>
“And we can’t convince them otherwise, because they’ve already committed themself to the cause, and the sunk cost fallacy goes double when you’ve blown up a public building in broad daylight and been deemed an enemy of the state.” Barry pinches their nose. “They're actively hurting their own cause, and the only thing it gets them is a shiny target painted on everyone associated with them to point the military at."
<Indeed. On a brighter note, I’ve answered the emails that don’t actually need your personal attention.> Blue chimes. <You only need to answer two.>
Barry sighs, glances at the clock on his desk and gets back to work. (Time to run an entire government by himself, while the rest of the Council does their best to make his job unexpectedly harder with zero warning and no plans for how they're going to fix the messes they make!)
His job was so much easier when he wasn't simultaneously the Head Secretary of the Council, the Head of all but six General Departments, the Minister of every single General Department and the Director of all but three of the General Agencies, on top of all of the ceremonial titles with no real official duties, powers or responsibilities.
Unfortunately, his underlings are consistently getting arrested, resigning or dying faster than he can find, screen and appoint candidates, and he needs the High Councillor's permission to appoint new Clearance Beta officials. (That was a provision Superman insisted on as he was reviewing Barry’s first drafts of the new Regime government, and it has dogged him ever since.)
It doesn't help that Superman seems to think that Barry's handling it just fine, when in reality he's just lowered the clearance of quite a few types of documents that would otherwise be inaccessible to the people that needed to see them and installed workarounds and policies(both official and unofficial) that allow lower-clearance staff to collectively act in place of high-level officials that don’t exist with occasional rubberstamping and review from Barry.
At this point, he could quit or even just go uncontactable for two weeks and the entire planet would break down in chaos. (And it would be entirely Superman’s fault.)
He’s seriously considered quitting early(and faking his death, in order to get away with quitting) quite a few times, especially shortly after Wally was born, but ultimately Blue talked him out of it every single time.
But he’s committed himself to one plan and for now, he has to stick with it. Even if that plan involves five years full of constant tedium interspersed with the occasional trainwreck of a bad decision from his superiors or extremely traumatizing atrocity he had to sign off on and smile through.