When Barry returned to his room with the full intention to go to sleep, he was greeted with a pillow to his face the moment he pushed the door open.
"Fuck you."
He didn't even flinch at the blatant rudeness, only opting to bend down and grab the abused pillow.
"Very mature, Savitar," he sighed, striding towards his bed and this time has no restrains over kicking the speedster off his bed. "And do not wear shoes in my bedroom."
The speedster didn't even budge. Instead, he hissed at Barry in utter disbelief;
"You dropped me."
"You're heavy."
"You dropped ME."
"It's not like Frost saw I dropped you."
"You fucking dropped me. How dare you—"
Barry rolled his eyes.
He honestly was considering talking to the Flash so that the older speedster would stop spoiling Savitar.
This scarred speedster was spoiled waaayy too much.
Savitar was too full of himself sometimes—expecting people to treat him like he was some kind of divine god.
And Barry fully blamed the Flash for this spoiled behaviour.
It wasn't like it would actually hurt Savitar when Barry dropped him the moment they were out of Frost's sight. No, Savitar was far tougher than him, considering that he was a metahuman with super-healing. Barry's poor arms would hurt for a much longer time due to the strain of carrying the speedster as compared to the little pain Savitar potentially felt when Barry unceremoniously dropped him onto the floor.
So, the speedster shouldn't even complain.
The acting was no longer necessary when their audience couldn't see them.
This carefully staged assault on Cold was to lower the vigilante's guard, allowing easy way for Barry to infiltrate Team Frost. Barry picked up this strategy from the Flash, having noticed how easy it was for the speedster to bend people to his will when he staged them to be dependent on his influence and power. It was even easier to gain Frost's trust when Savitar seemed to take pleasure in playing the role of the shy and bashful younger brother for Barry, manipulating Caitlin's natural compassion towards adorable helpless creature.
Barry didn't expect for it to work—for Savitar to pull the role off successfully, knowing what kind of man the speedster really was—but it was oddly amusing to see Caitlin's eyes softened around the psychopathic speedster, the woman was not even aware that the man she was looking at with fondness and pity could easily and happily drove his hand through her chest.
His doppelgangers were truly a bad influence on him.
"You're supposed to be the nice big brother to this poor, scarred, adorable illegitimate younger brother of yours—" Savitar complained, attempting a failure of puppy eyes as he emphasized on the word 'adorable'.
Barry huffed and rubbed his bloodshot eyes, mumbling through a yawn, "Savitar, we are at the same age."
"Frost didn't know that. And speedster gene makes me look younger."
"Come on. I do look younger than you when I act cute and helpless."
Barry groaned in annoyance.
"How exactly does Barry stand you?" He grumbled under his breath, asking the real question now; "How exactly does my dear doppelganger survive living with you?"
Savitar flashed him a teasing grin.
"He couldn't get enough of this sexy body."
There was a beat of silence as Barry tried to stop his brain from digesting that information.
Nope. Nope. Nope. It was way too early of the morning for his thoughts to go that way.
"Ugh. TMI, Savvi," he groaned, not wanting the mental images of having sex with any version of himself ruined his morning with an embarrassing arousal, no matter how true Savitar was with the sexy body thing—he still valued his life enough to not submit underneath the speedster's mercy. "TMI."
To the great relief of his exhausted body and groggy mind, the speedster decided to end the matter at that, kicking his shoes away and climbed up the bed to stretch across Barry's bed. Barry sat at the edge of the bed, feeling his consciousness giving up on him—his perfectionist nature was biting his ass again. His decision to deliberately inflict near-fatal injuries onto Cold seemed so wise yesterday, but now it felt like a really bad idea. That decision caused him to spend the whole night fixing the man, an elaborate effort that could easily be avoided if only he opted to inflict superficial injuries that seemed serious but could easily be fixed without much effort.
Plus, the fact that he had to quickly change out of his Scarlet Ripper costume after being zipped off from the scene by a speedster had made his head a bit dizzy by the time Frost crashed into his bathroom.
The end result of this whole disastrous plan?
It was this exhaustion that clouded his mind and made him want to sleep for the rest of the day.
Man, his planning wasn't as perfect as it used to be ever since he murdered Iris.
That woman turned his life upside down in more than one way.
He still missed her, though.
He exhaled a heavy breath, trying to dispel the uncomfortable twisting feeling deep within his chest as he remembered the short months he shared with her. It was some of the best months in his life, as he finally has the chance to enjoy the emotional connection he was depraved of. She was the first human he managed to make emotional connection with, since his own parents only saw him as a prodigal brain and not as the son that needed their love so much. He could still feel the ghosts of her gentle touches—despite now he knew how fake those touches were, as she intended them as a tool to lower his guard. Despite her lies, he still longed for the warmth of her soft body in his arms, wanting her gentle voice soothed him to sleep, craving for the comfort her love offered like an addict craving for drugs.
Why must he have such bad luck in romance?
He glanced to his side, where Savitar was oddly silent, arms crossed over his chest, breathing slow and deep, mismatched eyes fixed on the ceiling although it was obvious that the speedster's mind was somewhere else—and if Barry was going to guess, the scarred speedster was thinking of the Flash. Narcissism aside, the two speedsters had a strange and confusing relationship that somehow worked despite all odds. It was a bit too painful for Barry, to know that these two versions of himself also had a bad history with their respective Iris—one was apparently betrayed by his Iris while the other was killed by her—and yet they still found solace in each other.
Maybe Barry should consider a twisted narcissistic relationship with one of his doppelgangers too.
At least he knew that he wouldn't have to face betrayal again.
Barry laughed humourlessly at the pathetic thought, shaking his head when Savitar shot a confused gaze at him.
He needed to stop thinking. This silence was supposedly a good chance for him to fall asleep, not making him revaluate his life choices.
The silence grew even more comforting as Savitar's body heat felt irresistibly warm to his exhausted body—a contrast against the air-conditioned room—his mind was so close to shutting down on him and he didn't realise that he had climbed onto the bed to curl up against the irresistible warmth of the speedster and promptly fell asleep right there, head nestled on the fluttering fast heartbeats that thumped against the hard, toned chest—
Though, in his dream, the heartbeats were calmer and slower while the body he was curled up to was much softer—
And her smile was as soothing and loving as ever.
Caitlin wasn't expecting to meet Len's eyes when she woke up.
"You're awake!" She shot up to a sitting position, her voice high from shock and joy, but she was still being mindful to not jar his body.
He didn't respond, but instead, continued to stare at her with glazed blue eyes, causing Caitlin to worry a bit.
"Len?"
"Cait….," he mumbled, voice groggy.
Caitlin winced, imagining the teasing that would followed since it was obvious that she was caught curled up asleep beside him. Barry had given her the permission to crash in his guest's room, but she felt claustrophobic in the big empty room, despite the luxurious comfy furniture that decorated the space.
It was too big and too lonely.
She felt a sense of emphatic then, now understanding why Barry so happily left this luxurious penthouse and moved into a simple two-bedroom apartment with Iris. It must have been claustrophobically lonely to live here alone by his own.
It wasn't like the prodigal doctor was known to have an active social life anyway—his life only revolved around his work at the hospital and the CCU as well as his occasional voluntarism at the orphanage and animal shelter.
And people said that Caitlin didn't have a social life.
The suffocating feeling did not help Caitlin to fall asleep at all, hence, she had gone to the room next door where Len was surprisingly hooked up with IV and heartbeat monitor—it seemed that Barry brought his work home with him—and relaxing was easier after that as her heart gained comfort from the beeping sound of the machine.
It was a reminder that her friend was thankfully still alive.
Thus, with the exhaustion from yesterday's action finally caught on her, she carefully climbed onto the huge bed and laid beside him, craving the assurance of his body heat and wanting to drive away the awaiting nightmares of yet loosing another comrade. She fell asleep almost instantly, her back lined against his side—his body warmth and the steady beeping sound of the heartbeat machine lulled her to a peaceful dreamless sleep.
The sun seemed too bright through the blinds by the time she woke up, but she didn't care about that as she had all of her attention on her injured comrade.
"How're you feeling, Len?" she murmured, placing her cold hand gently over his bandaged hand.
She shuddered upon remembering the wound underneath the bandage, the straight clean vertical cut on his wrist—a wound that could be fatal if he wasn't given emergency help. Len's icy blue eyes still stared at her in that glazed, dreamy look, as if this was the first time he saw her, and he seemed awed with what he saw.
"Lucky," he muttered, voice rough and strained.
Caitlin smiled, squeezing his hand. "Yes, you're lucky to be alive."
To her surprise, he shook his head, looking at her with those earnest glazed blue eyes again. "I'm lucky that the first person I see when I woke up was my beautiful wife."
Caitlin's smile fell.
What the actual fuck—, Frost muttered from the depth of her subconscious, fully awake now.
"Your soothing presence eased up my pain, my dear wife," Len mumbled again, eyes unfocused and dreamy though his voice was so thick with love and adoration that his words almost sounded genuine.
Caitlin tried so hard to not burst to a laugh.
"Len?" She called out gently instead, noting the glazed drugged look in his eyes. "Are you fully awake?"
He blinked groggily, seemingly to be struggling for his words, before he rested his head on the pillow, eyes still hooded and glazed when he gave her a little quirk of smile, whispering in a hushed grateful voice;
"How could I not be awake? When my queen is here by my side?"
Man, what kind of drug Barry roofied into his system….I want some, Frost huffed, breaking to a hysterics laughter—and that would've been disturbing, to hear her own laughter inside her head, but Caitlin couldn't help but quirked a smile too.
Frost, she scolded half-heartedly. Be nice.
Nuh-uh, Frost argued. We should record this. This is enough blackmail material to get Cold off his high horse.
Caitlin wanted to say no.
She really wanted to.
But the idea was so temptingly irresistible.
Her relationship with Cold started off with a rocky start, since she had aided in his arrest multiple times while he had hurt and betrayed her more than once. But then, after she helped Lisa during the whole Lewis fiasco, the man chose to change. His gratitude to her team drove him to attempt heroism, and although he still needed a bit polishing here and there, he was a decent hero, a good friend and a wonderful brother-figure.
Though, one thing didn't change from the transition of nemesis to comrades—the older man never stopped teasing her, especially regarding her lack of social life.
Even back then—a year and half ago—while they were still fighting against each other on opposite sides of law, he often teased her with jibes about her nightlife, particularly with her constant bad luck with men and romance.
Not to mention that embarrassing video when that one time he had gotten her drunk and egged her to humiliate herself by singing very horribly in their favourite karaoke bar.
Nobody stopped her from drunk-singing that night—not Iris, not Joe, not Dr. Wells, not Cisco, not Lisa—as she butchered random songs, from famous pop songs to childish Disney ones for over half an hour. It was after she tripped on her heels and almost fell off the stage that Iris finally took pity of her and dragged her away from the microphone.
And he still has that 45-minutes long blackmail video.
Revenge is best served cold, Frost egged on, still salty at the reminder of that karaoke video.
Thus, Caitlin took out her phone, discreetly recording while talking to the older man, entertaining his drug-induced rambles with a relieved smile on her face. It was comforting to know that she didn't have to worry much. The long night Barry spent to save him was worth it, as Len seemed fine, despite this hilarious delusion he had of having her as his wife.
"Do you remember how do you propose me?" she asked—a suggestion from Frost—while doing her best to restrain the laughter that tempted to spill from her mouth.
Frost, being the non-dormant personality for the time being, has already burst to uncontrollable cackle inside their shared sub-conscious.
"I built ice throne for you, the prettiest one for my ice queen," he smiled drunkenly at her, clutching her hand tight in his calloused large hand. "And then I got onto one knee and propose to you."
Caitlin was so temptingly close to break to a laughter.
Oh my god….
This is gold, Caity, Frost agreed.
Though, before they could prompt even more embarrassing ramble from the older man, they heard a knock on the door. Three gentle raps against the door to attract their attention, and Caitlin couldn't hide her sheepish grin when she turned around and saw Barry was watching her—the man was leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest, his smile was like that of an amused parent who just caught their naughty child, though there was no judgement in his eyes.
Len, however, didn't seem to be happy to see Barry.
"Who are you?" he rasped, tightening his grip on Caitlin's hand and tried to lift his body up, only to groan in pain at the sudden movement. "Why are you here in our house?"
Caitlin had to wonder of the strength of the drugs in Len's system for him to have this kind of delusion.
"Do not strain yourself, Mr. Snart," Barry said, his voice was smooth and soothing, as he made his way to the bed, carrying what it seemed like a small cooler with him. He smiled kindly when Len tensed underneath his touch. "I'm Dr. Allen…," he introduced himself with a charming smile, eyes darted to a quick teasing glance towards Caitlin, "…and your wife here called me to check up on your injuries. I'm your doctor, don't you remember?"
Caitlin didn't know what to feel when Barry played along with her little prank on her drugged friend.
"My doctor?"
"Yes. I've been working for you and Mrs. Snart for years."
Len seemed to relax at that response, retreating to lay properly on the bed, only to hiss in pain when he jostled his bandages. Barry was quick to respond—professional and careful when he examined the bandages, making sure that Len didn't agitate his injuries.
Caitlin's brows raised to her hairline when he finally revealed the content of the cooler and she had to wonder how long he had been awake that he was able to go out and retrieve some blood for Len. She knew it was not a problem for him since the Allen's family has a huge control over few hospitals, hence, to sneak out a few bags was a walk in the park for the surgeon. But, it still amazed her to know that he was willing to break the law to help Len. Caitlin felt relief and gratefulness washed over her chest when Barry replaced the saline solution with the blood—it was an amazing luck of them that the man was thorough in helping her friend.
It was fascinating to watch from the side, when Barry resumed his task and checked on Len's vitals—the man was making quick note of the heartbeat rate and blood pressure, measuring the body temperature, asking Len about his pain and if he was feeling any discomfort—that Caitlin almost forgot that they were at his house rather than an actual hospital.
When Len admitted that he did feel an excruciating pain on the injury at his chest, Barry simply nodded and gave the older man an assuring smile.
"I'll increase the morphine dosage," he murmured, seemingly more to himself than to Len or Caitlin, his eyes were fixed on his notes before he finally looked up from the papers and gave Len an assuring smile. "You should be able to fall asleep painlessly then."
Len nodded wordlessly, seeming to obediently listen to Barry's words, although Caitlin had a hunch it was because of his exhaustion, since his eyes started to droop, his body grew lax on the bed. He started to ramble again, still having a delusion of having Caitlin as his wife, blue eyes were unfocused although his hand clutched tight on Caitlin's own while Barry carefully measured the morphine into a disposable syringe. The surgeon flicked his finger over the tip of the needle, before he smiled, giving Caitlin a discreet wink when he injected the drug straight into Len's system—it amazed Caitlin to see the little lines of pained frown on Len's face slowly faded as the man fall back to unconsciousness.
"That should do it," Barry murmured, disposing of the needle and his gloves into the trashcan beside the nightstand, and Caitlin couldn't help but note that it was the same yellow bin they used in hospitals for hazardous trash. "He should be able to rest painlessly for a couple of hours."
What a workaholic…., Frost muttered, sounding amused. He brings the hospital into his house.
Frost, Caitlin growled. He helped us. Be nice.
Heyyyy, I'm just stating the truth, Caity. No need to get defensive.
Caitlin decided to ignore Frost and watched silently as Barry arranged the drugs into its case, noting that the man was organizing everything according to alphabetical order and the volume of the bottles into the huge case, although it was the sheer number of drugs he had at his disposal that had Caitlin intrigued.
Even if he brought his work home with him, the amount and variety of drugs were way too much to be normal.
She couldn't help but point that out.
"Ah," he bit his lower lip, seemingly hesitant to speak at first before his shoulders slouched in resignation. "It's for my…brother."
"Savvi?" She uttered, hoping she got the name right.
"Not him," Barry shook his head, completely focusing on his organizing task rather than looking at Caitlin's eyes. "My other brother….He had…problems…that couldn't be eased with normal painkiller. I have been trying to formulate a new painkiller that could ease his pain."
Caitlin stared, hoping that he would elaborate.
He didn't.
Instead, he simply packed his stuffs and completely dropped the subject, shifting the conversation towards food. He cheerfully invited Caitlin for a brunch with him instead, pretending that the earlier conversation didn't happen as he talked about the brunch's menu since apparently, Savvi was downstairs, cooking for them. The kid seemed to be an amazing cook, if the scrumptious smell that she inhaled as they walked down the stairs were any indicator. Caitlin's stomach growled—although thankfully Barry didn't seem to notice—and only then did she realised how ravenous she had been.
She was glad that they allowed her to set up the table. She has started to feel very bad for imposing on the brothers like this even though neither of them seemed to mind.
Suspicious, Frost suddenly said, causing Caitlin to pause in her task of setting the table up.
What is suspicious? She asked back, resuming her task, although a bit slower now as she kept her gaze on the brothers, not wanting Savvi to notice if her eyes shifted colours.
Frost was silent for a moment, and Caitlin could feel her counterpart's suspicion grew but her meaner side finally decided to not reply, opting for a simple 'nothing'. She tried to push, but Frost wasn't yielding, thus, she mentally sighed and pondered on the idea, honestly curious about the sickness that seemed to be ailing Barry's brother. She connected it with the conversation he had in the car yesterday, feeling more intrigued and curious as soon as her mind started theorising on the subject.
Any idea what problems his brother could be suffering? She tried to prompt Frost to talk again, hoping that her counterpart would spill the thoughts that she was hiding from Caitlin.
Andddd why should we care?
Frost, we want him to be our comrade. We help each other in the team.
Her mental counterpart was silent for a moment, but Caitlin could feel that Frost was thinking hard on the subject. She smiled, appreciating her other-self's attempt to entertain her thoughts, even though she knew that Frost usually didn't try to indulge in other people's business.
My best guess? Frost huffed, eyes flashed blue for a while as she stared at Barry's back. His brother is a metahuman with extremely high metabolism.
So that's why normal painkillers wouldn't work on him.
Caitlin somehow felt lucky that despite her killer immune system, her metabolism still worked well enough to accept drugs and painkillers, albeit she needed them in triple dosage than normal human.
God knew how she could even survive handling Cisco and Len in one room without painkillers on standby.
Or, the guy is a druggie. We never know.
That sounds odd…, Caitlin argued back, pursing her lower lips thoughtfully. Why would he cure a drug addict by using more drugs?
Just a hypothesis, Cait, Frost huffed, sounding fondly annoyed. For fuck's sake, we don't even know anything about this guy other than what we read in his published works.
Caitlin had to agree with that.
But having heard about the way he treated Iris, seen the way he offered his shoulder for Joe to cry on during the funeral, and now witnessing his interactions with his brother—it suddenly gave him more dimensions, putting him under different light for Caitlin to observe, making him less like the stoic prodigal genius and more of an average human.
Thus, she dropped the conversation there, proceeding to help Savvi with the food, all the while reminding herself to not glomp the scarred man into a huge comforting hug. Barry said that Savvi was three years younger than him, and since Caitlin and Barry was at the same age, she couldn't stop her natural Mama Bear tendency from trying to reach out for the kid. It was heartbreakingly adorable when the younger man shyly tugged on her sleeves when he needed her to do something, only speaking one or two words to get his message across before distancing himself from her. Caitlin was honestly itching to hug him but had to restrain herself from doing so, worried that it would backfire negatively. Barry had whispered to her that the kid wasn't used to other people beside their brothers, and he didn't even have to mention it for Caitlin to know why.
She knew that the scar that marred half of his face would surely be a target of bullies.
"He usually never shut up," Barry murmured under his breath to her, a little quirk of smile was on his face. "Annoying little brat he is."
And yet, Caitlin could count the number of words she heard Savvi spoke around her.
You do realise that you can't adopt him, right? Frost commented dryly, sounding amused at Caitlin's continuous attempt to strike a conversation with the scarred young man. He is twenty-five. He is a full-grown adult—
He is adorably helpless. I need to protect this cinnamon roll.
Ugh…Why do I even bother? Frost let out a long, suffering sigh. You're beyond saving, Cait.
Caitlin ignored that jibe. It was nice to know Barry as an average human—who needed a lover and family around him—rather than as the prodigy she read in the books.
She felt guilty towards Iris, for involving him into their secret, but somehow, she also understood Dr. Wells' desire to have Barry in the team. Perhaps it wasn't due to the fact that Dr. Wells required another great mind that rivalled his own, but maybe the old scientist had seen past Barry's front and saw himself in the young surgeon—after all, they both were prodigal geniuses that were depraved from family and friends since young age.
Thus, when Barry stated that he would be happy to help Team Frost whenever he had free time, and even extended his help by offering his house as an emergency stop if any one of them got hurt while patrolling—Caitlin regretfully pushed the guilt she felt for betraying Iris's wish and straight up invited him to Starlabs.
Yesterday's event still terrified her. The last speedster they defeated was a psycho, and the one who was with Ripper yesterday didn't seem any less psycho—so, Caitlin really have a negative stereotype on speedsters now. The Scarlet Ripper was already dangerous on his own, but to know that the deranged menace has a psychopathic speedster as an ally made the possibility of one of her comrades getting seriously injured and dying even higher. Dr. Wells was knowledgeable enough to give medical aid when they got hurt while Caitlin was out of commission, but if something similarly life-threatening like Len's situation happened again?
They wouldn't even be able to do anything.
They really needed his expertise in the team.
She just hoped that Joe wouldn't reacted negatively at this.
A/N: And with this, the chapters have finally catch up to its twin on A03. Next update will be simultaneous with the one in AO3. I hope you enjoy this chapter!