Chapter 108 – "Smoke, Vows, and Time Tricks"
The party at STAR Labs had morphed into something unexpected: beautiful.
Laughter echoed from every corner. Music pulsed through the walls. Drinks were poured freely, stories were exchanged, and for the first time in months—maybe years—everyone looked genuinely happy.
Even Barry Allen had let loose.
Which led to… Dante handing him a cigarette.
> "Come on, Flash," Dante said, waving the smoke with a grin. "One puff won't kill you."
Barry eyed it like it was laced with kryptonite. "You sure?"
"Nope," Dante said, lighting it and handing it over.
Barry took a cautious inhale and immediately doubled over coughing.
> "OH MY GOD—" COUGH "—I THINK I'M DYING."
Everyone burst out laughing.
Frost shook her head, trying not to smile. "You're an idiot, Dante."
Dante just raised his drink. "To stupidity!"
Then, Oliver Queen took the cigarette from Barry's hand, cool as ever, and took a long, calm drag—without flinching.
Cisco stared, deadpan. "See? Why is everything he does cooler?"
> "It's the jawline," Sara Lance muttered, sipping her wine.
Everyone laughed again.
There was warmth in the room that hadn't existed in a long time. All the battles, the deaths, the tears—they seemed distant now. For a moment, it was just friends. Family. Joy.
Then, Oliver stood near the console.
To his right: Barry.
To his left: Patty.
Dante raised an eyebrow. "Alright. What's going on?"
Frost leaned in with a mischievous smirk. "Ohhhh yeah… you don't know. You were kind of… dead."
Dante turned slowly. "Frost."
"What?" she said innocently. "We were busy. But before the whole Nazi invasion thing, we were actually doing Barry and Patty's wedding."
Dante choked on his drink. "Wait—what?!"
Cisco grinned, nudging him. "Yeah, man. I mean sure, you were dead and we were grieving… but come on, you'd want us to keep going, right?"
"You bastards."
Dante's expression was a mix of shock and delight as the lights dimmed slightly and soft music started playing.
Oliver cleared his throat.
> "We gather here tonight, not just to celebrate the return of a friend, but to witness the joining of two lives…"
Dante sipped his drink, watching as Barry took Patty's hands in his.
They smiled at each other like nothing else existed. The room fell silent, the air thick with love and nostalgia. It wasn't a fancy wedding. There were no decorations. But it was real.
And when Oliver pronounced them husband and wife—
They kissed.
Everyone clapped, cheered, and whistled.
Even Frost let out a soft little "aww."
Dante stared at them. "Okay. You assholes didn't tell me. I didn't bring a gift."
Barry walked over, arm around Patty, and grinned. "Dude. You came back from the dead for me. That's the best gift I've ever gotten."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Dante squinted. "Yeah, yeah… keep that Hallmark crap to yourself."
He turned, stretched, and muttered, "I'll be back."
The Speed Force began to shimmer around him—red lightning turning darker, flickering like embers as shadows laced it.
And then—
He vanished.
So fast not even Barry could track him.
Everyone froze, blinking in surprise.
"Uh…" Cisco blinked. "What just happened?"
Before anyone could answer—
BOOM.
A streak of dark crimson and faint black slammed into the center of the lab. Dante reappeared.
But not as they knew him.
He wore a three-piece suit, dark and immaculately tailored.
A high-collared white shirt, crisp and stiff.
A neatly tied cravat, subtle and refined.
A long wool coat, black, elegant, swaying around him.
Polished leather shoes, spotless.
One gloved hand spun a pocket watch, clicking softly.
And his hair?
Slicked back, perfectly styled, with a thin, sharp mustache resting neatly above his upper lip.
The room fell silent.
"…What the hell," Barry whispered.
Dante exhaled like he had just returned from a vacation.
> "Man. Tesla is amazing."
Barry blinked. "Wait—what?!"
Dante smirked. "Well, I remembered once during one of your science lectures that you admired Stephen Hawking and Nikola Tesla. Said they were your heroes."
Barry nodded slowly. "Yeah…?"
"So," Dante said, straightening his cufflinks, "I went back in time."
Everyone stared.
"You what?" Kara asked.
Dante ignored her.
> "I visited Tesla in 1895. Right after his lab fire. We had drinks. The man's a genius—paranoid as hell—but fun. Then I skipped forward and had a brief chat with Hawking before his lecture at Cambridge in '77."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a carefully sealed scroll of aged paper, wrapped in silk.
He unrolled it.
Two perfectly signed names.
Stephen Hawking. Nikola Tesla.
And beneath them, in two distinct handwritings, was written:
> "To Barry Allen—
A man of science, speed, and soul.
—S. Hawking"
> "To the Master of Lightning—
Bend it well.
—N. Tesla"
The room exploded into awe.
Barry's jaw dropped.
Cisco grabbed the paper and looked at it like it was made of gold. "THIS IS… HOLY CRAP THIS IS REAL."
Dante shrugged. "It's vintage."
Barry looked like he was about to cry.
Patty took his hand. "This is… insane. Dante… thank you."
Dante handed Barry the scroll. "Congratulations, man. For everything. For making it. For still being good. And for not dying of smoke inhalation earlier."
Barry laughed, wrapping him in a hug.
"Okay, okay," Dante said, patting his back. "Let go before I ruin the suit."
Frost finally stepped forward, arms crossed.
> "You stole clothes from a Victorian nobleman, didn't you?"
Dante looked smug. "I borrowed them. Temporarily. With style."
She rolled her eyes. "God, you're such a showoff."
He winked. "You love it."
She didn't argue.
The music picked up again. Kara and Sara dragged Oliver to the dance floor. Cisco took photos of Barry holding the Tesla-Hawking scroll. Joe and Wells shared drinks in the corner. Even Mick was smiling as he slow-danced with his beer.
It was the kind of night that only came after war.
The kind that came after resurrection.
And as the party carried into the late hours, and laughter replaced trauma, and dancing replaced mourning—
Dante stood near the edge of the room, looking at everyone.
Frost came up beside him.
> "You look tired," she said softly.
"I'm always tired," he replied, "but this? This is the good kind."
She didn't say anything. Just reached for his hand again.
This time, no hesitation.
And as the lights dimmed and the song changed, Dante pulled her close.
> "May I have this dance, Ms. Frost?"
She narrowed her eyes, then gave a single nod. "Don't step on my toes."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
They danced—awkwardly at first, then easily.
And around them, the rest of the world faded away.
For one night—
There was no war.
No multiverse.
No gods.
Just love, time, and the man who walked back from death to deliver a wedding gift and steal one perfect moment.
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