A/N: I wasn't expecting this story to turn out this way and I'm not too happy with it, but oh well xD Here it is. If you have any thoughts on possible one-shot ideas or anything, feel free to let me know :) Hope this one sounds okay!
Requested by Vampira Maxwell on AO3.
This is part of the "All These Things That I've Done" series.
This takes place after "A Pretty, Painted Picture" but before "I've Got Soul but I'm Not a Soldier".
Story length: 2382
Begin!
Speaking a Dead Language
It's that time of year again.
When everything seems cold and gray and Barry wants to run and hide. As a child he would do just that; many times, Joe would find him hiding in the closet, or curled up under his bed, just trying to forget this day even exists. But it does exist, and adult Barry knows he can't run forever, and hiding from this is not an option.
It's the anniversary of his mom's death. The anniversary of her murder by the Man in Yellow, dubbed the Reverse-Flash.
This is the day that lives in infamy – as a child he would rage against whatever comfort Joe tried to offer him. Rage against Iris, too. Tell her she had no idea what he was going through so how could she possibly understand, or even sympathize? Yes, her mother died when she was younger, but it wasn't murder, and it wasn't in front of her, and her father wasn't sent away, too. As a child, he held tight that no one understood, and maybe on this day, only once a year, did he hate Joe a little. The rest of the time, he loved the man like a second father, but on that day… on that day, all he could think about was his father in handcuffs, his mom's blank stare, and the blood. And the accusations against his father, and the fact Joe was the one to put him in Iron Heights.
He's so torn on this day. Every year, even fourteen years after the fact. He's still so torn and emotionally spent every time this day rolls around, and Iris and Joe leave him alone to wallow in his self-pity for a day. Then the next day, they bang his door open, equipped with fresh donuts and lots of coffee, and then they won't leave his side for the rest of the day. They give him a day to hate himself and hate everyone else, and then they save him from himself.
That's how he prefers it. He wants to be alone on this day.
If he's with someone else… he just feels wrong. Spending the day with Iris and Joe as he was forced to those first few years as a kid, it just made things worse. Because Iris and Joe were happy, and treating him like family, and he felt so torn because a part of him wanted that. He wanted to be part of a family, but on that day he was always, always, reminded he wasn't part of a family, not anymore. He wasn't really part of Joe's family. He wasn't really Iris's brother. He wasn't Joe's son. He had a family, could remember them clearly in his mind with all the want of a teenager, and knowing he couldn't have that back… it broke him, every single year.
For days afterward, he'd be in a funk no one, not even Iris, could break him from.
So eventually, Joe and Iris left him alone for the day, and he wallowed in his self-hatred and despair and brought up all those thoughts and memories he usually suppressed – thought of his mom's smile, his dad's voice, hated himself when his mom's voice was becoming too fuzzy, remembered her blank stare the most…
And he hated that that was what he remembered the most.
Her death.
In the end it all came back to that empty stare as he pulled the sheet back.
Even now, years later – the most vibrant thing in his mind about his mom is that look. And he absolutely hates it.
He's known this day was coming since earlier this month. He's planned accordingly. His refrigerator – Joe's refrigerator, he corrects, since he moved back to Joe's place after Iris moved out to live with Eddie – is stocked with all the food the Flash could possibly want in the next twenty-four-hours, and he plans to spend the majority of his time dodging Joe – which shouldn't be too hard, considering Joe's stuck at work most of the day – and sitting alone in his room with an equally blank stare on his face.
That's how he plans to spend the day.
But when he's on hour four of that day… he gets a text.
It's simple, and any other day he might brush it off.
Today, it seems more poignant.
From Len: I'm hungry
It's only two words long, and so very simple. Len's sent him that before, when he was at work, and Barry ignored it – not because it didn't make him smile, but because he was busy, and it's only a very, very vague invitation. They won't even be having sex (probably) which is the main reason they even started this whatever it is in the first place.
But at this point, three months down the road, sex is secondary, and Barry's not sure what to think of that. The man even let him touch his tattoos, and trusted Barry enough to show him his back. He even introduced CSI Barry Allen to his sister, Lisa, and his friend, Mick. Both criminals. Both part of his Rogues.
Today is not the day for Barry to be thinking about anything. Especially his relationship status with a criminal named Leonard Snart, who moonlights as Captain Cold, the Flash's enemy.
Still… it's just an offer for food, and it's not even posed as a question. Len just said he's hungry. Barry can join if he wants.
And the funny thing is… he wants.
Every other year, he's been alone, and that's how he prefers it on this day. He won't be any great company. But today… the thought of a late lunch with Len sounds good.
But it's not for him. Today is for being alone and hating himself.
Hating the world.
Len doesn't know this part of him, and why should he? It's not like they're actually dating or anything. Right?
Again – thinking about his relationship status right now is… complicated, and not what today is for.
He doesn't realize he's replying until he's hit send.
To Len: I'm not good company today. Sorry.
Complete with punctuation and everything. He winces. That's really not like him – he's fast at texting, which usually means he forgets punctuation unless he's serious.
Len, surprisingly, picks up on it.
From Len: What's wrong Barry
Even the name-drop, yikes.
He doesn't call him 'Barry' very often. It's usually Scarlet, or 'kid'.
A part of Barry debates about ignoring Len's text. Answering truthfully will complicate things, as will lying, as Len already knows something's wrong. Funny how he knows but not Caitlin or Cisco. In the days leading up to this, Barry's been a bit distant. Cisco commented on it but Barry blamed it on tiredness, and Cisco told him to go home and sleep, not seeing through the lie.
He's not sure what to think about the fact Len picks up on his addition of proper punctuation in his texting, of all things.
Other times, if he sends something like "not a good day" or "can't today" Len just leaves it at that, assuming (correctly) that Barry's tied up at work. Today, though…
Maybe it's his word choice, but again – he's been wrapped up in a case before and said something similar, and Len didn't ask.
He's unresponsive for too long, apparently.
From Len: I will track you down, Scarlet
From Len: I know where you live
Barry smirks to himself – the first smirk of the day, first upward twitch of his lips all day.
To Len: You sound like a stalker, you know.
From Len: Then answer me and I won't hunt you down
To Len: Is it really hunting if you know where I am?
From Len: What's wrong
Straight back to the point, then.
Barry sighs, shoulders slumping. He doesn't want to discuss this, especially not via text of all things. He could call Len and just tell him 'hey, today I wanna be alone, sorry' but that would raise more questions.
But again… a part of him wants to be with Len right now, and he's not sure why.
Len is his enemy. He's Captain Cold. He's a criminal.
He's… something.
They have a deal – a fling. It's just… becoming more than that. The sex is secondary. Barry enjoys his company. Len's voice is soothing and comforting and suddenly something Barry really wants to hear.
I can always flash out in a hurry if I have to… he thinks to himself.
Which is true, of course. Perks of being the Flash, after all. If a situation is beyond awkward or just not working, he can just run away.
Run away and hide from the world.
But right now…
To Len: Lunch sounds good. Your place?
From Len: I'll order pizzas. Your usual?
To Len: Thanks. Be there soon
He doesn't give a time. He doesn't even offer the pun of 'in a flash' like he would have normally.
He'll go to Len's, he just… needs to work up the nerve.
His phone buzzes again.
From Len: Give me 10 minutes and I'll have coffee and movies ready
Barry smiles – it feels… strange, but good. Not wounded like the rest of him. Smiling doesn't hurt as much as it usually does on this day.
All Len knows is something's amiss – he doesn't even know if Barry's upset, just that something's not completely right – and he's preparing coffee, ordering pizzas even with Barry's voracious appetite, and is getting movies ready for a lazy day on the couch.
It's not how Barry planned to spend the day… but oh well, that sounds fucking amazing.
And Barry wants. So badly.
To Len: You're the best, Len. Thank you.
Then he waits for the appropriate ten minutes before he dresses in a blur of motion and disappears from the house in a flash.
He arrives at Len's seconds later.
Len's in the kitchen pouring coffee into two separate mugs, and to his credit, he keeps his cool when Barry's suddenly in the room. He doesn't even flinch, though he spares Barry a quick glance. Then he frowns, and stares, giving Barry his full attention, putting the coffee pot down.
"What's wrong, Scarlet?" he asks carefully.
Barry blinks. "Uh – nothing?" he tries.
That coffee smells so good…
Len's eyes narrow. "How about not lying to me? I know something's wrong. Talk to me, kid."
Barry rolls his eyes. "It doesn't… It doesn't matter."
Except it does. It really, really does.
But this is Len, his enemy, Captain Cold – why would he care…
He doesn't care, Barry tells himself. It's just sex between us… nothing more.
It can't be, after all.
"Tell me," Len says again, more firmly this time, his 'you better start answering me or I will ice you' tone.
The Captain Cold tone – smooth and firm and in control. Except with a touch of softness, too? It's… an odd combination.
It's a bit like truth serum.
Barry's shoulders slouch. "Today's just… not a good day for me. Sorry. I shouldn't have come. I'm really not up for, uh… anything…"
Len stares at him for a moment. "You think I was going to try to have sex with you like this?"
Barry winces. "Uh – well… no. Not really."
And that's true – he doesn't think Len would try to twist this situation like that, but that's not the point.
"I'm just not gonna be good company today," Barry tells him. "This was a mistake. I should go."
And then he's moving. Just a thought and he can dash away.
Len's faster, for once.
His fingers curl tightly around Barry's wrist, yanking him to a stop as he turns to run away. He turns back to face Len, narrowed blue eyes focused on him so intently…
"What's wrong?" Len asks again, in a tone that brooks no argument.
"It's just not a good day."
"Why?"
Barry sighs heavily, gaze skittering away. Len's floor is shiny. "Today's the anniversary of my mom's murder," he finally murmurs, in a tone he barely recognizes. It's thick and heavy and painful. "I know it happened… it happened fourteen years ago, but it still… hurts, and my dad's still in prison for her murder, and the Reverse-Flash is still out there…"
He's told Len, very briefly, of the Reverse-Flash, and that he's the man that really killed his mom, not his father.
"And it's just not a good day," Barry finishes. "Sorry."
"Stop apologizing," Len says.
Barry frowns, but keeps his gaze focused on the floor. "I usually… I like to be alone on this day, every year. It's just easier."
"And they let you?" Len asks.
Barry knows he means Iris and Joe. "Well – yeah."
"If you like to be alone, why are you here?"
That's… a good question. Barry's not really sure of the answer. He shrugs pathetically. "I don't know."
"Why not go to Caitlin, or Cisco? They're your friends, aren't they?"
There's a lump in Barry's throat, barbed with little knives cutting him. Swallowing is painful but necessary. "Yeah…"
"But instead of going to them, you came to me."
It's not a question, so it doesn't really need a response. Barry remains still and silent.
"Look at me, Scarlet." Len's voice is softer, almost gentle, which is really – odd.
Barry lifts his gaze from the floor, focusing on Len's face. His eyes are soft, too.
"It's okay to still be upset and need time away from everyone," Len tells him, fingers tightening briefly around Barry's wrist before letting go, both of them having forgotten said wrist was still captured. "But wallowing in self-pity for an entire day is draining and I won't allow it."
Barry blinks at him. "What?"
"I won't allow it," Len repeats firmly. "Do you understand?"
"But…"
"Well?"
Barry sighs. "I guess, but-"
"Good. Now – the pizza should be here any minute, and we are going to watch stupid movies all day until you forget about wallowing. Understood?"
Barry stares at him. He certainly wasn't expecting this when the day started. "Are you…? Are you trying to comfort me?"
"I can be comforting," Len retorts.
Barry's lips twitch upward ever-so-slightly. "Oh, can you?"
Len smiles. "That's better."
"W-What's better?" He's so confused…
"Smile, Scarlet. It suits you much better."