CHAPTER 5: The Spark of Friendship and a Sticky Situation
Days bled into weeks, and Barry Allen still lay in his coma. The S.T.A.R. Labs team, however, was slowly but surely becoming a unit, albeit a strange one. Adam's unique brand of sarcasm and seemingly impossible foresight had somehow solidified his place. Cisco adored him, seeing a fellow geek who understood the inherent coolness of metahumans. Caitlin, while still scientifically cautious, found herself increasingly relying on his uncanny intuition, and even appreciating his irreverent humor as a counterpoint to the grim reality of their situation.
" Honestly, it's a miracle they haven't tried to dissect me yet. I'm either a genius or just really good at looking innocent while secretly manipulating everything. Probably both. Mostly the manipulation. "
One afternoon, Adam found Cisco hunched over a workbench, muttering to himself. "What's up, my favorite Vibe-in-training?" Adam asked, leaning over his shoulder. "Trouble in paradise, or just another failed attempt at inventing teleportation? Because, spoiler alert, you're gonna need breaches for that. And a lot more angst."
Cisco jumped, startled. "Adam! You always do that! And no, it's not teleportation. I'm trying to fine-tune the environmental sensors. Ever since the explosion, there have been... anomalies. Readings that just don't make sense. Like this one." He pointed to a screen displaying a chaotic graph. "It's a localized adhesive discharge. Totally random. And really, really sticky."
Adam peered at the screen, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Sticky, you say? Like, 'walk into a spiderweb' sticky, or 'I accidentally glued my hand to my face' sticky?"
"More like 'I tried to walk through it and ended up stuck to the ceiling for five minutes' sticky!" Cisco grumbled, rubbing his arm. "It's like super-glue mist. And it keeps popping up in random places around the city. Police are calling it 'The Sticky Bandit.' "
Adam snapped his fingers. "Ah, the Sticky Bandit! I know this guy! Well, not personally, but my 'future insights' have given me a pretty good file on him. He's probably some disgruntled former chemical engineer who got zapped. And his name," Adam paused for dramatic effect, "is probably Roy G. Bivolo. And he's going to be really, really annoying."
Cisco's eyes widened. "Roy G. Bivolo? You're serious? You're just pulling that out of thin air!"
"Am I?" Adam challenged, a sly smirk on his face. "Or am I just channeling the cosmic whispers of the future? Besides, who else would come up with 'adhesive discharge' as a superpower? Only a truly deranged individual. Or a really uninspired comic book writer. Take your pick."
Caitlin, who had been listening from her station, walked over, a dubious expression on her face. "Adam, are you suggesting another metahuman? Based on... sticky mist?"
"Exactly!" Adam exclaimed. "See, Cisco and I are on the same wavelength. It's not just sticky mist, Dr. Snow. It's supernatural sticky mist. And he's going to cause a lot of chaos. Probably target some art galleries. He's got a thing for 'aesthetic adhesion.' "
Wells rolled into the Cortex, his expression unreadable. "Mr. Stiels, while your imagination is certainly... vivid, we have no empirical evidence to support your claims of a 'Sticky Bandit' or 'metahumans.' "
"Yet!" Adam corrected cheerfully. "You don't have evidence yet. But trust me, you will. And when you do, you'll be glad I gave you the heads-up. Maybe you can design some kind of super-solvent? Or a really big pair of tweezers." He patted Cisco on the shoulder. "Don't worry, buddy. We'll figure it out. And when Barry wakes up, he's going to be very busy chasing down all these incredibly creative criminals."
Cisco, despite himself, was already pulling up city maps, marking the locations of the "adhesive discharge" incidents. "Okay, so if he's a chemical engineer, maybe he's targeting places related to his old company? Or places that fired him?"
"Now you're thinking like a detective!" Adam cheered. "See? My 'psychic' abilities are already rubbing off on you. Next thing you know, you'll be wearing a trench coat and carrying a magnifying glass."
Later that night, as Adam was enjoying a truly questionable microwave burrito in the breakroom, Cisco joined him, a wide grin on his face. "You won't believe it, Adam! We tracked the adhesive discharge patterns, and they all converge on a single location: a defunct chemical plant that used to employ a 'Roy G. Bivolo'!"
Adam took a dramatic bite of his burrito. "Say it ain't so! My psychic powers are almost as impressive as my burrito-eating skills. Which, let me tell you, are legendary."
Cisco plopped down next to him, practically vibrating with excitement. "This is insane! You're actually right! About everything! The metahumans, the specific villains... how do you do it?"
Adam leaned in conspiratorially. "Trade secret, my friend. Top secret. But let's just say I have a very, very active imagination. And sometimes, my imagination just happens to align perfectly with future events. It's a gift. A curse. Mostly a curse, because who wants to know about all the terrible things that are about to happen? Not me, that's who. But here we are." He sighed dramatically. "The burdens of being a genius with a knack for predicting disasters."
Cisco laughed, a genuine, unburdened laugh. "You're a maniac, Adam. But you're a useful maniac."
"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," Adam deadpanned, thumping him on the back. "Looks like we're stuck with each other, buddy. Get ready for a whole lot more weird. And a whole lot more of my brilliant, unsolicited advice."
The friendship was officially forged, not in fire, but in sarcasm, sticky mist, and the shared anticipation of a world about to get a whole lot stranger. Adam knew this was just the beginning. The calm before the storm. A storm he was perfectly poised to navigate, one witty remark and strategic death at a time.