In which we see what Leonard Snart is putting up with in the midst of Vandal Savage's attack on Central City... right before its destruction in timeline 1.0.

We also get a hint of the consequences at putting a normal human being in a prison wing full of metahumans who are rather pissed about not having access to their powers.

Scofield shout-out copyright the creators of Prison Break.
Niven's Ring reference copyright to Larry Niven.
All others copyright DC, CW, etc.

Leonard grabbed his tray without looking to see what the kitchen staff had slopped on it this time, and looked around for a place to sit.

Alone was no longer an option. If he was only dealing with punks out to make a name for themselves, newcomers too stupid to know that you didn't need to look for a fight because one would eventually find you, he wouldn't be worried. His refusal to rouse himself unless someone needed protecting, and his habit of being particularly vicious when he did fight, was enough to convince that sort that he simply wasn't worth the effort.

The danger now was that most of the inmates in this wing hated him with a passion, and would enjoy catching him in a vulnerable moment.

Not that he'd done anything to earn their hatred—they had all been put here by the Flash, and should, logically, be willing to accept him based on that alone. No, the problem was that it was a damn high school clique all over again... and he, the only normal human being in Iron Heights' metahuman wing, was the outsider.

Naturally, that meant there were few he could count on to leave him alone. None to have his back in a brawl, not even if they owed him a favor. And unlike high school cliques, who he could count on here had a maddening tendency to change daily, sometimes even hourly.

"Move it, freak!" one of the inmates growled from behind him.

Oh, yes. Here, Leonard was the freak.

He sighed and made his way towards one of the only open tables in the middle of the room. He picked his way carefully through the chow hall, dodging any tripping hazard that crossed his path—some there by accident, some... not—and tried to keep his distance from the corner near the community television.

He didn't need the TV badly enough to muscle his way near that group. He kept his head down here, and that meant he didn't go looking for trouble. Another strike against him, as far as the other inmates were concerned, and many of the guards would report him for the tiniest thing, but there were a few willing to do their jobs. And all of the cells were equipped with TVs.

A foot shot out in front of him. Leonard sidestepped the obstacle and stopped just short of tripping over one of the inmates eating by the TV.

"...land of Wuz..." the narrator's voice was saying.

He paused. What the hell? He inched closer to get a look at the screen. "My god, someone actually found a copy of The Wuzzles?"

The man he'd nearly dumped his food on merely chuckled. "So complains the guy who recognized it right off the bat."

Leonard rolled his eyes. He had a little sister, of course he recognized it.

The other man shook his head. "Apparently some channel in Central City started airing these oldies. I feel ya, though. Tried to get the warden to let us watch Prison Break, even offered to give him my Netflix password. He wouldn't go for it. Maybe he thought we'd get ideas."

"Not like getting ideas would do us any good now," Leonard pointed out. "Scofield set things in motion long before he got himself arrested."

The man finally looked up so Leonard could see his face. "Yeah, well, probably for the best," Jeremy Tell, the metahuman gambler known as Double Down, said. "We give the warden ideas, he might try to force us to remove our fancy tattoos."

Leonard shrugged before continuing his search for the nearest open table. Dinnertime was almost over with, and while the food was terrible, it was still better than starving.

"Why don't you sit down?" Jeremy said. He waved away one of the other inmates. "You, scram! My friend needs to eat."

Leonard raised one eyebrow, but he sat down in the offered space. "Friend?" he asked skeptically before taking a careful bite.

Jeremy shrugged. "You're the only worth playing cards with around here," he replied.

The only one he hadn't figured out how to beat, he meant.

"I don't care how good your memory is, unless you start cheating—" which Jeremy was easily good enough to catch him at if he tried "—you can't keep beating me forever. I'm going to figure out how to—"

A static hiss from the TV made them both jump.

"What the hell was that?" Jeremy muttered.

Leonard caught a brief glimpse of a snowy screen before several inmates crowded close and blocked his view. He grabbed his tray to find another spot to eat. Whatever had happened to the TV, he didn't need his instincts to know things would soon turn ugly.

"Snart!" one of the guards called before he had half-risen from his seat. "What the hell did you do to the TV?"

Leonard froze, and the tray slipped from numb fingers. He stared at the guard. "You think I did this?" The few bites he'd managed soured in his stomach.

Easy. No need to panic. It's probably just a misunderstanding... The guards couldn't possibly think he was stupid enough to screw up the TV. Especially not in this wing.

In through the nose... hold for a count of three...

The guard shrugged. "Who else? You're the only one in there who doesn't need one of those fancy collars." He nodded towards the other inmates. "If I've got to call someone in to fix it, these boys won't be getting any TV for at least a week."

Several heads whipped around to glare at Leonard.

Oh, god...

He backed away from what was starting to look suspiciously like a mob.

No use pointing out that it was just a children's cartoon. The TV was one of the few privileges these people got; you did not mess with it.

Ever.

Someone grabbed him from behind and flipped him around into the wall.

"I want my TV, Snart," Kyle Nimbus snarled into his face.

Leonard tried to shrink away, but the wall and Kyle's grip on his shirt denied him any escape.

Jeremy stood up. "Hey, easy," he said, his voice pitched loud enough to be heard over the grumbling. "I'm sure it was just an accident. Or maybe the channel's bad. Snart was sitting next to me this whole time. He couldn't—"

"I'm sorry, Tell," the guard said. "Did you just say they should go a month without?"

Jeremy's eyes widened and he sank back to his seat.

"That's what I thought," the guard replied. "Snart?"

"I'll fix it!" Leonard gasped. He had no idea why the TV wasn't working, but he would be a dead man if he didn't figure it out soon.

"You're not touching it," the guard said. "You tell me what you did so I can fix it."

But he didn't know what was wrong with it!

"Yes, s—sir," he said. "Do—do you know anything about..." he wracked his brain for the most obscure reference he could think of. Faraday Cage? No, too easy. He cleared his throat. "About Niven Rings?"

Jeremy's expression flickered to one of shock before he regained control of his poker face. Damn it, the man knew that reference. If the guard recognized it as well...

But the guard only shook his head. "Never heard of them," he admitted. He glanced at another guard, but the other man also shook his head. "Fine. Nimbus, let him go so he can fix the TV." He waved the other guard over to watch the outer door, then stepped inside to wait by the inner door.

Kyle released his grip as ordered, but he didn't move.

Leonard edged his way past him to get to the door and waited while the guard put handcuffs on him. Finally he was allowed out of the cafeteria. Finally he was safe.

But only if he figured out how to fix the damn TV.

Next chapter... well, we find out what a screwed-up TV has to do with everything going on in canon.

I have no idea how the metahuman wing works or how it suppresses the metas' powers.
But since I didn't want to say "solitary confinement for all" (which some lawyers out to make names for themselves would try to get thrown out as cruel and unusual punishment no matter how dangerous the metas are, and which would actually be cruel for those metas who are no more "evil" than the non-meta inmates), I went with special collars that suppress their powers the way the pipeline cells were designed to do.