Reincarnated As Clara In The Flash

Third POV

S.T.A.R Labs...

Caitlin strode down the hall toward the Cortex, her tablet tucked under her arm, her mind clouded with guilt. How could she have missed the signs?

As a doctor, she should have caught on to Clara's fear, the way she flinched at the needle. Svarog had seen through it all, piecing together the signs while she remained completely unaware. The thought gnawed at her, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she had let Clara down.

She entered the Cortex and found Barry, Cisco, and...

"Dr. Wells?" Caitlin said, surprised.

Dr. Wells greeted Caitlin with a knowing smile. "Ah, Caitlin. I just arrived a few minutes ago. Barry brought me up to speed on the situation. You two were able to find one of the meta's that we could identify. Impressive work, indeed." His sharp gaze seemed to evaluate her every move. "I take it you also have an update on the girl's condition?"

Caitlin hesitated for a moment before nodding. Barry, Cisco, and Wells all turned to her, waiting for her next move. Taking a steadying breath, she walked over to the monitor. Caitlin tapped on the tablet, sending Clara's medical profile to one of the larger screens.

The display showed the young girl's basic medical information and a new profile picture that Caitlin had set up. However, the data was incomplete as some test results were still missing.

Barry leaned in, eyes scanning the details. "What did you find?"

"Uh, not to be that guy, but where's the blood test?" Cisco asked, crossing his arms.

[Image]

"Before we get to that...First, Clara's immune system is barely holding on. She's not just prone to getting sick. Her body doesn't fight back the way it should. A simple cold could be life-threatening for her." Caitlin informed as she was reading from the file.

Barry frowned. "Is it that bad. What other issues does she have?"

Caitlin glanced at them before continuing.

"Svarog says she's been sick over 300 times in four years. That's… beyond anything I've seen."

Barry's eyes widened. "Three hundred? That's… impossible."

Caitlin hesitated, taking a breath. "There's something else… Clara has PTSD."

Silence filled the Cortex on what they had just heard.

"A ten-year-old girl with post-traumatic stress disorder," Dr. Wells said, his tone serious. "That's truly tragic. It suggests something significant happened to her before she disappeared."

Caitlin swallowed, the memory of Clara's tearful apology replaying in her head.

Caitlin exhaled sharply, shaking her head."Svarog noticed before I did. The way she flinched…She started panicking. I should've caught it. No child should be scared of a check-up."

Her voice quivered just a bit, but she pressed on, determination shining in her eyes. "She's just a kid, and honestly? She's been through so much. We need to help her."

No one spoke for a moment. Then, Barry shifted, his jaw tightening.

"We'll help her," Barry said, voice hardening. "No matter how long it takes."

Dr. Wells nodded, his expression unreadable but he smiled at Barry. "Yes. We will."

Cisco rubbed his temples, exhaling sharply. So let me get this straight, our new meta-kid has PTSD, a Terminator for a dad, and an immune system made of tissue paper? Yeah, that's… totally normal."

Caitlin looked back at Clara's file on the screen, her heart sinking. She had no idea what this girl had been through. But she knew one thing for certain, she wanted to help this girl even more.

clank

clank

clank

The mechanical clank of footsteps echoed through the Cortex, catching the team's attention. Svarog entered, cradling Clara securely in his massive arms. Her small frame was curled up against his chest, and she was fast asleep, her face peaceful in a way that always happened when she was with Svarog.

As the others watched in silence, Dr. Wells' intrigue was evident. His gaze sharpened, analyzing every detail of the robotic guardian before him. His interest was clear not just as a scientist, but as someone who saw Svarog as something more than just metal and programming. After all, this was the one robot he had to know more about.

Svarog's glowing eye fixed on him in return.

"Analyzing. Complete." Svarog's voice robotically filled the room. "Harrison Wells. Creator of the Particle Accelerator. Responsible for the metahuman incident. Conclusion: You are not permitted near Clara. I do not trust you."

Barry blinked. Cisco let out a low whistle and muttered under his breath, "Whoa, okay, T-800 does not mess around."

Dr. Wells tilted his head, studying Svarog with keen interest. His smirk deepened, a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "Fascinating. A machine that thinks, evaluates, and distrusts? Rare. But noted. I'll stay away from Clara…for now. But you and I? We'll have a conversation soon, Svarog."

"I wonder what else you've been programmed to protect, Svarog," Dr. Wells thought, as he knew a little about Svarog but wanted to know more.

Svarog didn't linger any longer. He stepped past Wells and the rest of the team, moving carefully and deliberately to avoid waking Clara. However, he paused to look at Caitlin.

"Caitlin Snow. Do you need Clara's blood sample? Is it essential?" Svarog focused his glowing pink eye on Caitlin.

Caitlin bit her lip, glanced at Clara's sleeping form, and gave a slow nod. "Yes. It could help us understand her condition better. I won't take much, just enough for analysis."

"Understood. Follow." Svarog instructed. Caitlin, surprised, followed to assist Clara as much as she could.

Svarog led Caitlin toward the room near the cortex control panels, his heavy metal frame moving with surprising precision. The sound of his mechanical steps filled the otherwise quiet space. Clara remained asleep in his arms, her breathing soft and steady.

Caitlin grabbed the necessary supplies—sterile gloves, a small vial, and a butterfly needle. She moved quickly but carefully. From the corner of her eye, she saw that Svarog still hadn't set Clara down.

"Your heart rate has increased. You are nervous." Svarog said as he placed Clara on the bed and tucked her in.

Caitlin paused for a second before nodding. "Yes. I don't want to wake or cause her more stress than she's already been through."

Svarog tilted his head slightly, analyzing. "You are compassionate. That is why Clara does not fear you like she does with others she does not know."

Caitlin offered a small, appreciative smile, then took a deep breath. "I just need a small sample. Can you adjust her arm slightly?"

Processing. Current equipment unnecessary. Blood sample available." Svaorg stated, his tone calm and precise.

Caitlin blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Wait, what?"

Svarog's eye dimmed as he rotated his metal hand. A quiet hiss followed as a small compartment in his palm slid open, revealing a set of vials.

Caitlin's breath caught in her throat. "You already have a sample?"

"Affirmative. Clara's health is fragile. One of my roles is to monitor her condition, and I've stored blood samples annually to prepare for emergencies. If this will help stabilize her, you may take what is needed." Svarog recalled but did not mention that the system provided Clara's blood one time after she fell ill for the first time during the winter at seven years old.

Caitlin observed the vial in Svarog's hand, noting that it appeared to be at the perfect temperature and color, ready for examination.

"He had a blood sample prepared in advance… just in case something happened to Clara. 

The foresight was remarkable, especially for medical emergencies. This level of preparation made her wonder just how much knowledge Svarog had stored in his system.

Caitlin hesitated, her fingers hovering above the vial. "You keep these?"

"Affirmative. This is designated for emergencies. Current parameters meet emergency criteria." Svarog confirmed. 

Caitlin reached forward and carefully took the vial from its secure slot. It was still warm.

The extent to which Svarog had been tracking Clara's condition both impressed and unnerved her. Whoever or whatever Svarog was, he wasn't just a guardian; he was prepared to protect Clara no matter what.

"How often do you take samples?" she asked, inspecting the vial.

"Every winter after her birthday, I collect samples," Svarog said. "Her health declines during cold seasons. Without intervention, her survival is unlikely. Continuous monitoring is necessary." Svarog replied without taking his eyes off Clara.

"Every winter? Why does it get worse then?" Caitlin asked curiously, wondering why Clara's health decreases in winter.

"Cold seasons further weaken her. Without medical supplies and robotic care, she would not have survived past four years. The reason is possibly her weak immune system." Svarog recalled, remembering how Clara always fell ill during winter.

Caitlin's chest tightened as she looked at Clara, her heart aching at the thought. "four years?"

Svarog's single eye locked onto her. "Correct."

Caitlin looked away as she tightened her grip on the vial; the weight of what she had just learned settled over her.

"I can't… I won't let that happen." Caitlin murmured, more to herself than to Svarog.

She set the vial down carefully, already mentally preparing for the tests she needed to run. "There has to be something we can do."

Svarog tilted his head, observing her. "Then your goal aligns with my primary objective. Clara's survival is my highest priority."

Caitlin met his gaze. "Then we're on the same side."

Svarog paused for a moment before nodding. "Affirmative. I recommend that you take the vial I gave you and run the samples now, before Clara wakes up. I will be here with her when she does."

Caitlin carefully picked up the vial she'd set down earlier, nodding to herself. She had many questions about Svarog, about Clara's life before the particle accelerator, and about everything they had experienced together, including how they had built the camp she had seen with Barry. She needed to first focus on the tests.

"I'll get started on this right away," Caitlin said, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts racing through her mind.

Svarog gave a curt nod. "Proceed. I will remain here." Caitlin turned, but before she could step away, he spoke again.

"Caitlin Snow."

She turned back, surprised at the way he said her name not just as a statement, but almost like… a sense of trust.

Svarog's eye dimmed as if processing something deeper. "Clara trusts you. That is… rare. Therefore, I will trust you as well."

Caitlin's breath hitched. She hadn't expected that. Of all things, a machine, one that distrusted Dr. Wells outright was choosing to trust her. Not because of calculations, but because of Clara.

Warmth spread through her chest, mixing with the weight of responsibility.

She glanced at Clara's peaceful form. The girl who had been through so much yet somehow still found safety in Svarog's presence. And now, Svarog was extending that same trust to her.

Her fingers tightened around the vial. I can't fail her.

Caitlin met Svarog's glowing eye. "I won't let her down." Her voice was steady, but inside, she felt the weight of that promise settle deep in her chest.

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Clara POV

My eyes felt heavy, like they were glued shut. I was warm, like when I used to curl up under a pile of blankets in the winter when I got sick. But something was different. The air smelled like something weird… not like outside, not like in her camp. It smelled too clean, like...a hospital.

She didn't like it.

My fingers wiggled against the soft blanket. Wait, a bed? I was in a bed! That was really weird. I didn't remember my bed feeling like this before. This wasn't my camp. I remember I was with Big Sister... no, I meant Caitlin and Barry."

I felt my heart start to beat faster.

My eyes slowly opened, and for a moment, everything was blurry. Bright lights. Strange walls.

Not home...I was not at my camp.

Panic began to bubble up in my chest. I sat up too quickly; my breathing was shaky. My hands clutched the blanket around her, her whole body tense. Where was she?!

Then I saw him.

"Mr. Svarog," I said softly.

My voice was small and scratchy, but I could sense the relief in it. I turned my head quickly, and there he was, sitting by the bed, big and solid, just like always. His glowing pink eye looked at her, steady and calm.

"I am here," Svarog said. His voice was calm, but I could tell there was a hint of worry in it.

I rubbed my eyes and yawned. "Are we still at… the big lab place?

"Yes, we are still in S.T.A.R. Labs, but in a different room that Caitlin had made for us because you fainted from a panic attack." Mr. Svarog answered.

Mr. Svarog shifted slightly, and him being near made me feel calmer.

"Did I… do something bad?" I whispered. My hands curled around the blanket. "I remember I was crying because I saw a needle… and…"

Then it hit me.

The needle. The check-up.

I had gotten scared. Again.

Mr. Svarog tilted his head. "You have done nothing wrong, Clara."

Sniff.

Sniff.

I could tell I was crying again. My nose was all stuffy, and my eyes felt puffy. All because I couldn't do something simple. All because I didn't listen.

"But... I got scared," I mumbled, my voice shaky. "And I cried. In front of Caitlin and ruined the check-up..." I curled my fingers into my sleeves.

The words tasted bad in my mouth. I was supposed to be stronger. But I wasn't. I panicked like a little kid. Again.

I sniffled hard, my chest aching. "I—I just had to sit still! That's all! Just sit still like a normal person! But I couldn't. I got scared and cried, and now everyone probably thinks I'm dumb and weak and—" 

My fingers curled into my sleeves. Tears spilled over no matter how hard I tried to blink them away. I yanked my jacket up over my face, but it didn't help. The words still swirled in my head, it didn't make it better.

Why did I always have to mess up? Why couldn't I just stay still? I was always like this in the hospital… a crybaby. Then I got too sick to even feel the needle, I thought I got used to it, but I didn't.

" I don't want to be scared of dumb things… or embarrass Mr. Svarog again." I thought.

My chest tightened, my throat wanting to let out sobs. I squeezed my eyes shut, curling deeper into the blanket.. "I… I embarrassed you, didn't I, Mr. Svarog?"

A warmth settled on my head. I peeked up. I saw Mr. Svarog was patting my head gently, his touch steady and sure."

His hand was warm against my head. Not in a real heat kind of way. Mr. Svarog's was metal, but in a way that made me feel safe.

Like when I used to hide under my blankets and pretend the outside world didn't exist. Except this time, I wasn't hiding alone.

I sniffled again, trying really hard to stop crying. My chest still felt all tight and achy, but Mr.Svarog's hand stayed there, steady, like he was telling me without words that it was okay.

"You did not embarrass me, Clara." Mr. Svarog replied. Patting my head softly his voice was so sure, like he didn't even need to think about the answer.

I wiped my nose on my jacket sleeve. "But… I cried in front of Caitlin."

Mr. Svarog nodded, his pink eye glowed softly as he tilted his head. "Analyzing. Crying is a natural response. It does not indicate weakness, it indicates distress, sadness, and fear. It is not a weakness."

I frowned. "I shouldn't be scared. Not of a stupid needle."

Svarog paused. "Why not?"

I blinked at him and held tightly to the blanket. "Because it's dumb! Other people don't get scared like that!"

Mr. Svarog then answered. "Comparing yourself to others is illogical. Your experiences make you unique."

I stared down at the blanket, picking at the corner with my fingers. My throat felt all tight again. "I just… I don't wanna be scared of stupid things anymore."

Svarog's eye dimmed slightly, the way it did when he was thinking. "Fear happens because of past harm. Just because someone else isn't afraid doesn't mean you shouldn't be. Everyone has a fear.

I swallowed hard, my fingers still gripping the blanket. "But...what if they think I'm useless?"

Svarog's pink eye blinked once. Then, his hand moved from my head to my shoulder, a gentle but firm weight. "You are not useless, Clara."

Something in the way Mr. Svarog said it made my chest ache differently—like when I wanted to cry, but not because I was sad. It was too much, too big, and I didn't know how to hold it all in my heart.

Before I could say anything, a soft knock came from the door.

I tensed.

"Bioheat reaction detected — Biometric scan complete. Identity: Barry Allen," Mr. Svarog stated.

Barry peeked inside, offering me a small smile. His hands were in his pockets, and he looked a little unsure. I wasn't sure why, but something about his face made my stomach twist.

"Hey, Clara. Hey, Svarog," Barry greeted. Just wanted to check in. How are you feeling?"

I sniffled and wiped my sleeve across my nose. "Better," I mumbled.

"Good, I know today has been a lot, but I need to ask you something important," Barry said, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. His gaze flickered to Svarog before looking back at me. "So Clara, can we talk for a minute? Just us."

I hesitated, glancing at Mr. Svarog. His pink eye glowed softly as he looked at me, then Barry.

"Clara?" Svarog asked, waiting for my decision.

I swallowed and nodded. "It's okay."

Before he left, his hand rested on my head for a brief second which made me feel sad that his hand wasnt there anymore. And then he nodded before walking out of the room.

Barry shifted from foot to foot, like he was trying to figure out what to say.

I frowned. "Did something bad happen?"

"No, no, nothing bad," Barry reassured quickly. Then, after a pause, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I just… I wanted to ask you about something. It's, uh, about the supplies you've been taking."

"Supplies?" I tilted my head, confused about what he meant.

"So, uh... Clara, about the stuff you've been "borrowing" things from stores…Clara, I need to understand. Why did you take those things?" Barry asked, wanting to know why I did that.

Borrowed? That word felt weird. I never really thought about it that way. I only took what people from the camp needed like, blankets when it was cold, food when they were hungry, medicine when someone got sick. That wasn't bad, right? No one ever came looking for the stuff I took, they only yelled at me but never went after me, so it wasn't like anyone really needed it… right?

"Borrowed? I'm not sure I understand what you mean," I said, tilting my head. 

I noticed Barry turning to look out the window, so I followed his gaze and saw Cisco giving Barry a thumbs-up. However, when Cisco caught me staring, he quickly looked away and returned to his work.

"Clara, can you tell me why you were "stealing" supplies from stores? Were you trying to help people from your camp?" He glanced toward the window, where Cisco was awkwardly avoiding eye contact. 

I tilted my head and asked, "Why?"

I was confused by the word he used since I had never heard the word "stealing" before, but I can tell Barry looked serious, like he was expecting a certain answer. But I didn't know what he wanted me to say."

Barry nodded. "I just need to know because it will be important to tell someone. So Were you trying to help people from your camp right?" His voice was gentle, like he really wanted to understand.

"Wait… can I ask a question first?" I asked softly.

"Sure, what is it?" Barry said allowing me to ask a question

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I hesitated. "...What's stealing?"

Barry blinked. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "Wait… you don't know what stealing is?"

I shook my head, tilting it as if he had asked something strange.

Outside I heard Cisco facepalm in the background. "Oh boy. She's been Robin Hood-ing for four years and doesn't even know it's a crime? Yeah, we're doomed."