Flashback

One Year Ago

   This is just so cool.

   Sixteen-year-old Barry sat in a corner of the Central City crime lab, completely overjoyed. He'd been shadowing James Forrest, a CSI with the CCPD, as a special project for his A.P. Chemistry class. The project actually ended two weeks ago, but Barry conveniently failed to mention that to Forrest. Forrest knew what Barry was up to, but didn't mind. Forrest liked Barry; he was a very bright, very good kid who soaked up every detail of forensic work like his life depended on it.
   Forrest liked to give Barry little projects to work on, just so he'd get a taste of what real CSI work was like. One day, he had Barry use nothing but a pocket calculator, a pencil, and paper to determine the exact angle that a hypothetical bullet would have traveled along in order to hit a specific target. Another day, Barry's task was to cross-reference around three hundred photos and fifty pages' worth of information on knife wounds to figure out exactly what type of weapon was used on a dead body. Tonight, Barry was working on figuring out a specific chemical combination to reveal a unique type of Chinese hidden ink. Barry managed to complete every single task to absolute perfection—sometimes above the standard of most of the actual CSIs in Central—but he worked very slowly. It was a trade-off, Forrest thought. Barry might take forever to find a solution, but once he did it was a sure bet that he was right. If he ever became a CSI here at Central, he'd be a good balance for the rest of the lab, who valued speed over accuracy.
   Barry felt a tap on his shoulder.
   "Hey, Barry, it's time to go. It's ten-thirty."
   Barry looked at his watch and sighed loudly. He hated the fact that he worked so slowly.
   "Mr. Forrest, I'm almost done, if I could just have a few more minutes..."
   Forrest glanced over Barry's written progress thus far.
   "Looks like you've got around a half-hour of work more to go."
   Barry nodded sullenly.
   "But..." Forrest began, "I guess I could let you stay here by yourself a bit longer. You've been around here long enough to know the rules. Just be careful and don't touch anything on your way out."
   Barry sighed with relief.
   "Thanks, Mr. Forrest!"
   Forrest nodded and left.

   As it turned out, Barry needed another 45 minutes to finish his assignment. By the time he was done, he felt like he'd merged with the office chair he was sitting in. He stood up, stretched, and gently put all the chemical bottles back into the glass cases lining the shelves.
   Lightning cracked outside the window. Barry was a little bit startled. He'd been so enveloped in his work that he hadn't even noticed the huge thunderstorm outside.
   The CCPD lab had an entire wall of windows overlooking the city; Barry had been working was at one corner of that wall; the adjacent wall was the one lined with chemical shelves.
   Barry felt the hairs on his neck begin to stand on end.

   An insanely bright flash of light rammed through the window, through Barry, and into the glass shelves. Before Barry could even take a split-second to finish thinking "so that's what getting struck by lightning feels like," the chemical bottles shattered, drenching him in a maelstrom of burning liquid.

   A few seconds later, Barry was found unconscious, drenched in a multicolored soup, covered in burn scars from head to toe, and intermittently sparking with electricity.