A/N: I know, long, but because Len's POV. I struggled a bit, and I'm still not sure I'm too happy with it, but I hope you enjoy! Lotsa Love ~Loretta~


Leonard Snart knew pain, even fear. In fact, he knew nothing else as intimately, though he'd hardly ever admit it. In that moment, however, he was riddled with something else entirely. A terror born of the sort of helplessness he absolutely despised. One he hadn't felt in years. Not since before he'd fled with a preteen Lisa in tow.

It was surreal in the most mind numbingly raw way imaginable.

Len wasn't a good guy. Not by any normal standards. He certainly harbored no illusions to the fact: unlike the idiotic stubborn Speedster laying in a hospital bed hooked up to all manner of machines with tubes protruding from his ridiculous spindly limbs across the room from where Len leaned against the door jam. It was the farthest he could get without sacrificing eyes on the moron who'd almost died for him- again- and still might.

He clenched his fists and while it was quite painful, it was at least slightly better than the vice crushing his chest.

Barry's stupidity and stubbornness must have been enhanced with all the rest- the only valid explanation: The Fastest Man Alive and he refused to run. Un-fucking-believable.

Stupid. Stubborn. So Godsdamned infuriating. He shouldn't have come. Still, Len knew he would- so fuckin' stupidly stubborn.

Len had a plan, not a good one, or altogether coherent, but anything was better than what had happened.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Lisa hovering over Mick who surprisingly, had been doing his damnedest to resemble a compliant patient. Still, as the minutes ticked by and his hot-headed partner began to regain his strength the resemblance became more akin to a very grumpy grizzly stuffed into a hospital gown. While it exasperated Lisa and infuriated Dr. Snow beyond what Len had previously thought possible, it allowed him to relax, if only a little.

Never had Len felt so fucking helpless as when Barry had gone completely limp and Mick simultaneously decided the best course of action was to crash his Godsdamned bike into the Demon Speedster.

Worse, Mick, who wasn't wearing one of Cisco's fancy suits, took some of the blast from the Cold Gun- frost bite. They'd both crumpled to the ground. Len froze. The Cold Gun whirred to a stop along with his world. He couldn't breathe. Zoom let out a rumbling growl and turned on him, but Len couldn't move. It was all but impossible to tear his eyes from his impulsive ice incrusted best friend and naïve nemesis who lay unconscious at the black clad Speedsters feet.

Zoom took a step towards him, and while Len had always been a survivor, in that moment, he was all but certain he wouldn't—or that he wanted to.

Closing his eyes for the briefest of moments, Len thanked the gods, which had always forsaken him for not doing so at the end of all things- Lisa was safe.

That knowledge gave him strength- even as his world shattered. It was all that mattered in that moment, because he was suddenly painfully aware there was nothing else- not anymore- but his baby sister was safe- at least there was that.

His one saving grace- yet, even that was all because of the absurd Speedster laying broken before him.

Len had taunted Barry in his attempts to get him to back off- to run- told him he thought he'd never be grateful to Lewis for anything, but he was, and that was true. The lie was the why. After everything, years of bullshit, Lisa was safe because Lewis was a piece of shit- or really-because Barry.

Len owed Barry all the markers.

Everything he thought he knew- everything he thought he wanted- he'd been wrong. Yet, now-well, now, it was too late. It'd been almost a relief- to know he wouldn't have to live with that particular regret for long, or any of the regrets that suddenly seemed to hit him all at once. He shoved them away and straightened his spine as adrenaline flooded his system, determined to pay the Demonic Speedster back in full.

"Captain Cold," Zoom rasped somehow condescendingly taking another step towards him. "So, you want to be a hero?"

Len had always been a fighter too, which was something, despite all the rest, he would continue to be until his last breath. He wasn't a hero in any respect but the whir of the Cold Gun was all the answer he intended to give. A smirk ghosted his lips- revenge he could do.

Len clung to it and pulled the trigger.

The triumph lasted as long as it took Zoom to dash the 50 or so yards that separated them. Len's head snapped back, bouncing off the scorched earth and the metallic taste of blood coated his tongue. The pain was astounding but the sort he could handle. A mirthless laugh escaped of its own accord as he rolled onto his side spitting blood then offered his enemy a crimson smile.

Zoom growled.

A sharp popping sound, which was Baez and Rathaway teleporting to Barry and Mick's side, was drowned out by the crunching that was Zoom crushing the Cold Gun underfoot. It should have made his heart sink, but it somehow spurred him on. Biting back a groan, though still smirking, Len pushed to his feet, then turned to face a fate that was probably better than he deserved.

"Poor choice, Captain, as you can see…" Zoom menaced then glanced over his shoulder at Barry. "- Heroes die."

"Everybody dies," Len steeled himself in lieu of following the Demonic Speedsters gaze- that kind of pain- he couldn't. "And hero ain't on my resume."

No amount of anticipation could have allowed him to parry more than a couple of the blows that rained down on him. Len did his best to keep his hands up to protect his face, and his arms tucked to protect his torso while crowding in close to prevent his opponent from getting any real leverage. It was all in vain. In mere seconds his vision blurred with every strike and it was becoming impossible to keep his feet.

Then he was cornered- Zoom relishing every inch Len lost until he was backed up against the oak that had nearly crumbled under Barry. A large gloved hand bunched in the front of his parka. Len gasped and struggled- but that was all.

"Any last words, Hero?"

Zoom tightened his grip and lifted Len off the ground. He wasn't entirely sure it was real, but he thought he caught a figure darting through the shadows. It was something- better than nothing- he supposed- so he prayed they were on his side as he rasped.

"See. You. In. Hell. Asshole."

Gripping the Evil Speedsters shoulders with what he was sure was the last of his strength Len snapped his head forward. His crown smashed into Zoom's masked face. His vision darkened around the edges, but his efforts produced about the same results had he simply blown on him. Len wasn't a good guy, but this- thing- was evil.

Len felt it with his every molecule.

"You are not the first, nor will you be the last," Zoom loomed over him impossibly. "Heroes fall, yet I endure! I. Will. Always. Endure!"

It was a ludicrous decision, but the only option left to him, also fuck Zoom.

Len reached behind him and snapped off a large splinter that had been stabbing through his parka then swiftly and with every ounce of strength he yet possessed plunged it into Zoom's chest. The Demonic Speedster dropped him, most likely in surprise, and he landed in a crumpled heap at the base of the tree.

The unmistakable crack of a gunshot followed, ringing throughout the park. Len glanced up, gasping and blinking rapidly to clear his vision in time to see a snarling Zoom plucking a dart from his thigh, which was odd considering a foot-long shard of oak was protruding from his chest.

"Wells," Zoom growled so low Len almost hadn't heard him, but either way his brows knit together when there was a surge a blue lightning and the Speedster was no longer there.

Len didn't take long to contemplate it. The Burning Man suddenly swooped in low before landing, still burning, beside Barry, Mick, Rathaway, and Baez. Battered, bruised, lacerated, and bleeding, Len shoved to his feet with a groan. Things were broken, so many things- not all of them bones.

His vision still swimming, he grit his teeth and stumbled as quickly as he could manage to join them.

"Don't!" Baez shouted at the burning man, who reached out for Mick as she carefully stabilized Barry's neck and head. "Fire is the last thing HeatWave needs right now. We have to get them to a hospital. I can teleport him with some help, but I'm afraid to move Flash."

"How was I supposed to know, Gray! Mechanic, remember?" the Burning Man- FIRESTORM- snapped.

"No, Cisco," Rathaway interjected and Len realized they had to be talking into coms. "Just stop talking- Caitlin?"

"Doc, it ain't gonna matter if he's dead," Baez replied to something. "It's too dangerous to move him like that. There's too much damage. We need…"

"Shawna, Cisco's right, for once," Rathaway reluctantly cut in. "It'll put everyone he knows at risk."

"He needs a hospital!" Baez barked, her medical training, though not quite to the extent of Dr. Snow's, compelling her to save her patient regardless.

"We can retrieve Doctor Snow," FIRESTORM, who now that Len was looking, was not the same FIRESTORM he'd seen before, offered.

Two Speedsters, two Burning Men, things were more complicated than he originally imagined, but that didn't matter right then. Both Mick and Barry's breaths were coming out in short bursts, uneven. Neither of them were stirring. Len's eyes burned as his fear and frustration mounted. His physical pain had dulled but the rest left him unable to do anything other than look on helplessly.

"Harry?" FIRESTORM questioned sharply before spinning around looking for someone worriedly. "I don't…"

"Are they breathing?" A lone figure darted from the woods with a visible limp.

Despite it all, Len felt a jolt of surprise at recognizing Dr. Harrison Wells.

"You!" Rathaway skittered backwards a little.

"Where were you, man?" FIRESTORM demanded, but the man's pace never faltered as he ignored them both.

"Not him, not sorry, move on," Wells bit out at Rathaway, before sliding into the fray and addressing Baez. "Breathing?"

"Yea, but I dunno for how long," Baez replied as Rathaway seemed to get a grip on himself.

"Gimme," Not Sorry Wells snatched Rathaway's coms from him ear, ignoring his indignant, yet slightly feeble protests. "Dr. Snow?"

Len hated being able to hear only one side of the conversation, but it wasn't as if he would be able to help anything regardless. His vision was dimming, and it was difficult to remain upright, but he did, and would, at least until he saw this through.

"Of course we can, Crisco. We have guns." Harry retorted impatiently feeling for Mick's pulse. "Apparently, Ms. Snart is the only one among you will any sense."

"We are not robbing a hospital," the burning man said, his tone laced with incredulity as Len's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his sister.

"That would be why she said barrow," Harry snapped back. "Make yourself useful, Jax-Stein, whoever, and go commandeer us a hospital floor."

"We are not…" the Burning Man began.

"We have no choice!" actual anger this time and Len agreed with Not-Sorry-Wells whole heartedly.

"You have no choice," Len finally found it in him to join the conversation when FIRESTORM opened his mouth to protest again, making it personal. "Unless you want them both to die."

He would rob all of the hospitals if it meant saving Mick and Barry.

"You wanna live with that?" Len asked with an icy accusatory glare when he saw his previous words had an impact.

"A whole floor?" Stein-Jax asked after a beat.

"A hospital one," with everyone seemingly on the same page Dr. Wells turned his full attention back to Mick and Barry. "Gimme your jacket, you."

Perhaps under any other circumstance Len would have made some sort of crude remark or at least iced him a little first, instead he shrugged out of his ruined parka, which Wells draped over Mick.

"What about Flash?" Baez questioned urgently.

"Regenerative abilities," Rathaway answered. "HeatWave- not so much."

"Frost bite is the least of The Flash's worries, right now," Wells informed angrily and Len realized Barry's suit hadn't melted the ice as it should have.

"Still, we need to get him out of the suit," Baez interjected worriedly glancing down at Barry.

"Too dangerous," Wells retorted dismissively.

"How much will his identity matter when he's dead?" Baez challenged.

"Very much," because it would- Len knew Barry wouldn't want to put anyone in danger, even after he was gone, "to the people that'll die."

It made the knots in his stomach twist farther, but suddenly he felt a little less helpless, he could at least provide cover, or make someone else.

"Mardon!" it was an order, Len knew the Meta was still there- he had nowhere else to go. "You want to live- fog, now!"

Apparently, though he was sure he looked as bad as he felt, he still wasn't a man to be trifled with, or perhaps it was the fact that, though he'd somehow missed it previously and had no idea when the hell it had happened, Bivolo lay face up and unblinking nearby. Mardon grumbled as Len pinned him with a hard glare until the fog rolled in- a strange sort that allowed them to maintain visibility while masking their movements.

It was a smart move- despite the warning as to what was coming along with the smuggled phone- Len would not have hesitated to kill the Weather Meta. Not that Zoom would have either, Bivolo was proof of that, but they all knew he was going to kill them anyway when all was said and done.

With Len, Mardon had a chance- if he followed the code- maybe.

"Useful," Wells muttered as he worked to get Barry's head and chest free, the ice making more all but impossible and Baez and Hartley disappeared with Mick after getting some sort of confirmation over the coms.

"Hang in there, kid," Len muttered mostly to himself as Barry was unconscious, scooting closer, though resisting the urge to reach out. "You're gonna be alright."

"Maybe not," the other man added without looking at him.

Len's anger flared for a split second before it was swamped by all the rest, then the strange numbness settled in to stay, even after he realized Wells wasn't addressing him. Then, the beating caught up with him in earnest- after that everything was sort of a whirlwind.

He allowed Lisa to hug him briefly, despite the physical pain it caused, when she'd arrived in a 'barrowed' ambulance along with Dr. Snow. He was grateful for the brevity of her attentions, and the fact she took it upon herself to dull out orders to the remaining Rogues - The Trickster fled-for which Len was also grateful.

He did not possess the patience for that particular brand of bat-shit insane.

Without waiting or asking for permission Len had climbed awkwardly into the back of the ambulance with Dr. Snow as Wells and Lisa clambered into the front. Dr. Snow did her thing, but all Len could do was stare at Barry's blood caked and bruised face and pray- so he did.

None of what transpired was supposed to happen, and that was Len's fault, just as, if not more so than anybody else's. The gravity and responsibility weighed heavy on him and while Len had never been want to dwell on the past, he couldn't help it.

His stupid games. His love for the chase, the rush, the thrill of it all, his obsession with the Flash- all of the bullshit excuses. He took the deal, and relished in it, but even then, he knew that small victory wasn't the cause of the triumph he felt- not really.

It went from there.

Had he helped Barry contain the situation when the Meta transport failed instead of taking the opportunity to try and prove to not only Lisa, but himself, that Barry meant nothing to him. Then maybe at least three of the kidnapped Meta's would have been somewhere in the North China Sea or at least not as readily accessible therefore forced into the service of the psychotic Speedster. In Bivolo's case, un-dead.

Then Lisa and Lewis- that was on him too- but never again.

Len had pulled the trigger. It was long overdue. As far back as he could remember Len had been certain Lewis would kill him one day. Accidentally- on purpose- it didn't matter as long as it was him and not his sister. He goaded Lewis into fights- had the scars to prove it- if he had even the slightest inkling that Lisa would be that evenings target.

It didn't always work, but he tried.

That imaginary line in the sand- Lewis had crossed it. Sure, he'd always used subtle threats to get Len to do his bidding as soon as the jackass figured it out, but never like that. As Len got older, bigger, stronger- better- Lewis didn't dare. He valued his worthless life more than anything and he knew Lisa was off limits. Yet, the bomb. Had it not been for Barry-

Len would never let the likes of it happen ever again.

What had possessed Lewis to sign his own death warrant, Len would never know, but he didn't regret it for one second, and he no longer cared- not the way he should. Lisa was safe. Again, that was all that mattered, and Len clung to it when things became almost too much- even as he stood there helplessly watching the Scarlet Speedster's chest rise and fall much to unevenly for his liking.

Yet, that wasn't exactly working either.

Dr. Snow was worried, even if she said she wasn't. Accelerated healing or no, the crease between her brows told him the terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach was all too valid. Barry looked so young- so innocent- so broken as he lay unmoving. It made it difficult to fill his lungs for reasons that had nothing to do with his broken ribs. His eyes burned as he watched Barry's sister hold one of his hands in both of hers, clearly praying as silent tears trickled down her cheeks.

That fell squarely on his shoulders too.

Len didn't care that it was a ridiculous notion- illogical by most accounts. The others would deny it, but that was how he felt. It was just as unsettling as all the rest- feeling. Len didn't do feeling, but as with most things as of late, so it seemed, it was out of his control.

The numbness was almost better. Len would have run as fast and far as he could get if he could stomach the thought of not seeing Barry's eyes open at least one more time- just to see for himself that he was alright- but he couldn't- so he stayed.

Besides, Len had one more thing to take care of- Zoom.

"Cait!" Lisa called out suddenly when Mick pushed her hands away struggling to sit up.

"Traitor," Mick growled venomously, but Lisa only stuck her tongue out when the angry clip clop of Dr. Snow's heals drew nearer.

Wells had demanded FIRESTORM commandeer an entire floor of Coast City General, but it proved unnecessary when they'd arrived in the ambulance with Barry barely hanging on as well as Len looking worse for the wear and Hospital officials gave them permission to use one of the private suites, a whole wing if they needed, without interference.

Heroes got all the perks, but Len didn't care about the why or how- not then, not now, only that Barry and Mick would be getting the medical treatment they needed.

Len had almost forgotten he too was injured, a bit of shock, Dr. Snow said, but he didn't want or need medical treatment. Well he did. Need it, that was, but not before Barry and Mick. He said as much, but Dr. Snow, who when angry could give Lisa a run for her money, as well as Iris, weren't having it. Barry's sister patched him up with help from his own, and he let them, if only so they could feel like they were doing something while they waited.

They all needed a bit of distraction- not that it helped much.

The waiting was the worst. It'd been hours. The sun was beginning to peak on the horizon, a new day, but Barry's eyes were still closed. Len wasn't sure how much more he could take. Dr. Snow had tried to force painkillers on him after she taped his broken ribs, stitched up his many lacerations, and he refused to go with the others back to the safe house for some rest until they could get Barry and Mick back to the labs.

Len didn't want to risk not being there if Barry woke up.

"It's for your own good," Lisa hissed when Mick began to struggle again at her childish display.

Len was all but certain he would have to intercede, but it proved unnecessary.

"Do not make be tie you to that bed, Mr. Rory," Dr. Snow swept past Len, coat tails billowing behind her. "Because I will."

To Len's surprise, Mick slumped back against his pillows, defeated, without even so much as an inappropriate remark. That might've worried Len, but if Dr. Snow was looking at him like that, he would probably have done the same.

"You need to rest, Mr. Rory," Dr. Snow's tone was somehow threatening.

"With all due respect, Doctor…" Mick began comically cordial, but she continued as if he hadn't.

"And you will rest," she leveled her steely gaze to meet his. "Do you understand me, Mick?"

Mick grumbled in the affirmative then growled as Lisa stuck out her tongue again when Dr. Snow took a moment to look over Mick's vitals.

"It's astounding," she said almost to herself. "Your vitals- still, I won't risk it."

"Doctor Snow…" Mick began again in that oddly formal tone.

"Maybe," Iris interjected gently putting a hand on Dr. Snow's shoulder, which was another surprise- Len hadn't even noticed she'd gotten up. "It would be easier on everybody, and since he seems to be doing pretty well, if you let him maybe put on some real cloths and take a bit of a walk."

"Walk where?" Dr. Snow narrowed her eyes at Iris, not in a malicious way, but in a way that made Len think she was used to people shirking Dr.'s order and was frankly sick of it.

"Just here," Iris assured her quickly. "I can go with him or Leonard and Lisa if that makes you feel better."

Dr. Snow looked from Iris to Lisa, then at Len, but he only shrugged because he agreed with Iris very much so, and finally Mick, who was suddenly doing his best resemble an Angel stuffed into a hospital gown. Len saw the moment she caved, though, he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the somehow slightly terrifying innocent smile Mick had been attempting.

"Cisco brought some clothes that should fit you," the doctor agreed slowly and Mick's entire face lit up, which only caused her to continue quickly in a much sterner tone. "Two laps, the IV stays in, and if you feel even a little bit off, you come right back here."

"Sure thing, Dr. Snow," Mick went to swing his legs over the side of the bed as little too hastily, and had to steady himself, then added urgently at seeing the change in the doctor's expression. "Just been sitting too long."

"Maybe…"

"No, Doc…" Mick sounded almost desperate, still blinking faster than normal. "I mean, Dr. Snow, just, please."

"I'll take you," she sighed after a long moment of studying his pleading face, and Len wasn't sure when it happened, but he realized he sort of liked Flash's doctor, though, apparently not as much as his partner seemed to. "Can you dress yourself?"

"And that's my coffee cue," Lisa decided as Mick looked down at the EKG wires and IV frowning. "Ms. West, would you like to join me?"

"Fine, I'll do it," Len gave a long-suffering sigh when his partner looked to him for help as Lisa tugged Iris from the room without waiting for a response, and earned a growl.

It made Len feel better though, because everything was ass backwards and a little normalcy might keep them all from going insane before the day was through.

"I'll be right- right here, when you're ready, Mr. Rory," Dr. Snow told Mick, but nodded at Len before pulling the curtain between the two beds, and busying herself with Barry.

Mick cursed and grumbled the entire time Len helped him change into the STAR Labs sweat suit Cisco had dropped off before he headed back out with FIRESTORM to ready a more suitable location. It was painful for Len too, but he simply grit his teeth, knowing it was the least he deserved after dragging his partner into the whole mess.

In Len's admittedly weak defense, he had no fucking clue what else to do.

Zoom was using him to steal Barry's speed, ultimately kill him. Len knew, and while he had no intention of complying with the Demon's wishes, Barry was making it extremely difficult to play along, even in the vaguest sense. The not running, the showing up at STAR Labs, the showing up at the park- for someone so smart Barry Allen could be a fucking idiot.

The rest of the Rogues were on the fence more so than not, and while he'd managed to convert three and half- he still wasn't wholly sure he wasn't going to have to kill Mardon- out of four to his—cause, the situation was dicey at best.

It had been so hard not to just take Barry's hand, to go with him as he asked. Especially when the Speedster told him Lisa was safe. Still, he couldn't. There was his crew to think of, at least Baez and Rathaway, Bivolo too, who mostly just wanted out. He almost did it, though- just left. Then the lights flickered, and he recalled what they were up against in full.

Someone needed to tell Barry to back off before he got himself, and most likely all of his friends killed- that had been Mick- the only person in his life aside from Lisa he trusted implicitly.

Barry was a hero, and he should have known he wouldn't listen- Len couldn't let that happen again. As soon as he saw Barry open his eyes- that he was really okay- Len would make Zoom pay for all of it- even if it killed him.

Dr. Snow gestured for Mick to precede her into the hallway, before nodding to Len, her eyes darting, not so subtly to the chair beside Barry's bed. Then he was alone with Barry. Len stood there for a few beats simply looking at Iris' recently vacated chair, unsure of what to do. His heart urging him to take it, his mind attempting to rationalize the decision, and his instincts shouting for him to run the other way.

It'd always been just him and Lisa, plus Mick—not always easy, but safe and sure- yet now, and though he wasn't sure when it happened- there was Barry too.

A deep but painful breath, and he decided it was okay to move closer- that he could handle it- maybe.

Gingerly, Len lowered himself into the seat at Barry's bedside. The intense quiet made him wince at every creek of the awful hospital chair. Len didn't like hospital chairs, or hospitals for that matter, but he'd come this far. It was another moment before he could make himself actually look at Barry- his Scarlet Speedster.

It was silly, but he was afraid- that Barry would suddenly cease drawing breath, or his own heart would do the same, possibly shatter if he stared too long at that handsome battered face, or maybe Barry would abruptly wake up and blame him too—something.

Then again, something—anything- would be better than nothing, right?

Slowly, with his heart in his throat, Len raised his eyes. They stung, but he ignored it: afraid but determined. Len swallowed hard when his heart did indeed stop, but it didn't feel like a bad thing, not wholly. There was color in Barry's cheeks- a faint flush beneath the fading bruises. The rise and fall of his chest had evened out, and he seemed to be less tense, maybe even relaxed- at least healing.

The rush of emotion Len felt gave him courage or obliterated his common sense.

Carefully, Len reached out, taking Barry's hand in both of his, cradling it as though it was the most precious of gems- because to him, it was- Invaluable.

Warmth surged through him replacing the numbness and a chill he hadn't even recognized until it was gone. He had always acknowledged the Flash was handsome, attractive, at least- sort of. Mostly he ignored it, but in that moment- Barry Allen was beautiful- in every way imaginable.

It was intoxicating and terrifying- Len's breath caught in his throat.

He felt tears beginning to well as he held his breath. Gently, Len pressed the back of Barry's hand to his lips. He wasn't sure why- it was probably only going to add to the heart ache when all was said and done- but it felt right. At least in that moment. He held it there, scrunching his eyes shut, memorizing the feel of it.

Leonard Snart had never been one to pray, yet, he prayed for what felt like the thousandth time since the whole thing began- that those he loved would make it through- for the strength to see them through it- not least of all Barry.

"I'm sorry," Len muttered against the soft flesh barely audible. "I am so sorry, Barry."

And because he could, Len kissed him again.

"For shootin' me or knockin' me out?" Barry's croak startled him.

Len straightened abruptly, attempting to pull away, but Barry held tight, despite his less than stellar state as he looked at him with those impossibly warm eyes in a way Len could hardly decipher.

"Len."

"Scarlet," Len breathed, before he even decided to speak.

"Len," and his name never sounded so good. "Thank god."

Everything he thought about saying or doing was lost. Len had planned to scold the stubborn Speedster; yell at him, tell him how much of an idiot he was, thank him. He wanted to hug him, hold him, kiss him, yet still threaten him never to do anything so fucking moronic ever again. Instead, a joy he'd never known mingled with a grief he understood all too well and stole his breath as a single tear to escape and slide down his cheek. Barry's eyes followed it, and his face crumbling in a way that elicited another.

"You're hurt, Len," Barry let go of his hand and reached out to touch his swollen cheek.

Len automatically felt the urged to jerk away, but he didn't. The flinching he couldn't help, and his cheeks flushed ever so slightly, yet he allowed the man he owed so much caress his bruised cheek. His eyes closed and more tears fell as his heart managed to override the instincts that had kept him a live thus far.

In that moment, Len became certain the Scarlet Speedster—hero or no- would be the death of him, one way or another—somehow, he couldn't find it in him to care.

It would be the most beautiful death imaginable.

"You almost died, Scarlet," Len's voice was barely a whisper when he finally found it.

"I didn't," Barry reassured earnestly, if quietly.

Len almost felt it too- reassured, but it seemed a sort of kneejerk reaction, then he frowned as confusion etched itself into the Speedsters features causing him to wince at the pain.

"I should get Doctor Snow," gently but firmly, though it was the last thing he wanted to do, Len reached up and pulled Barry's hand away from his face.

"Cait?" Barry's brow furrowed farther eliciting another wince as he took the opportunity to interlace their fingers, seemingly just as loathe to let go of Len as he was of Barry, but then, as if emerging from a fog, confusion transformed into panic. "Oh, god, Zoom. Is everyone- are they- Where? How? Len… oh god, Zoom."

Barry's pleading broke his heart more so than Len thought possible, and his weak attempts to struggle up right only added to it. Quickly, but carefully, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and as gently as he could manage wrapped an arm around Barry's shoulders to restrain him.

"Relax, Scarlet," his tone was firm but soothing, or so he hoped. "Your team, your friends, the people in the park, all alive. Some bumps and bruises, but all alive."

"But…" Barry looked up at him desperation mixing with his guilt and panic.

Len shushed him, just as he used to with Lisa when they were kids, but held off on the rocking, because the last thing he wanted was to make anything worse.

"Zoom," he interjected firmly holding Barry's gaze in a way that didn't allow the other man to look away, "is not here. Do not worry about Zoom right now, Scarlet. Here, is Coast City General. A private wing- apparently, while the pay sucks, there are certain perks that come with the whole hero gig."

Len's eyes widened, though, minutely as Barry actually managed rolled his, before narrowing them, Len's presence and tone enough to comfort him at least that much, so he plowed on, figuring annoyed was better than panicked.

"Your little pal, Cisco, along with Firestorm, someone called Jay, as well as one of my own- I believe you've met him- Hartley Rathaway, have relocated to a more—suitable location."

"More suitable?" Barry questioned, but sort of relaxed into Len's side as his panic ebbed, which allowed Len to relax, if only a little.

"Top of the line security," Len assured, then Barry raised a skeptical eyebrow, so he added. "And a small arsenal."

"Of course," Barry huffed and Len almost chuckled at his discontented pout.

"Absolutely," Len nodded instead as though he hadn't noticed. "And my sister is with your sister getting coffee while Dr. Snow accompanies Mick on a short stroll around said private wing before he gets too—shall we say restless?"

"You mean burns down the hospital," Barry countered, but less accusatory than Len ever thought would have been possible.

"That too," Len conceded with a nod- as surreal as the situation was, emotionally charged, and not to mention fucking bizarre, it felt almost- good. "But I think Dr. Snow has proven herself more than capable of handling Mick."

Barry looked like he might laugh or make a joke, but suddenly his face fell again- guilty, "the other Meta's? They're- okay, right?"

Len should have been used to being surprised when it came to Barry Allen and his band of do-gooders, but he felt his eyes widen a little all the same.

"Mostly," Len replied honestly, trying not to let Barry's guilt seeped into him too. "Seeing as Detective West, last I heard, was heading to the aforementioned more suitable location, Baez and Mardon opted to lay low somewhere else."

"Mardon and Baez?" worry and a bit of skepticism tinged Barry's tone.

Len wondered why he was more skeptical of, at least Baez more so than Rathaway, who seemed to have caused much more damage the she, but he didn't want to get into that just then, regardless of how little sense it made.

"They'll behave, Scarlet," Len assured, perhaps a tiny bit irritably, despite having decided to let the Baez thing go for now. "Scouts honor."

"You were a scout?" the Speedster seemed unable to help himself.

"No," he'd almost said yes, just to see the look on Barry's face, but giving anyone any reason to doubt him, even if it was a joke seemed a poor decision.

"Then it doesn't count," and Barry was serious.

"Fine," Len acquiesced. "Criminal's Code, then."

It was silent for a beat, and Len belatedly realized he might've just ruined whatever understanding they seemed to have come to, but then Barry chuckled. "Fair enough."

"You're un-fuckin'-believable, Scarlet," and it was now Len who couldn't help himself. "You know that?"

"I am the impossible, Len, so yea, I know."

"Hmm, humble, too," Len observed and this time he couldn't help but smile at the Speedsters chuckle, that was until he winced. Len frowned. "You need to rest, Scarlet."

"And the other Metas?" the pain seemed to have reminded him.

"Trickster's gone," Len admitted, hating the way Barry's big doe eyes darkened, though he couldn't say with what. "Fortunately, Lisa, Mick, and I have some- associates- in Coast, so there's ears to the ground and we'll know as soon as he shows his face."

Barry nodded, and Len felt a surge of warmth at the other man's trust.

"And Bivolo- I saw he looked, I dunno, nervous?" Barry said a little hesitantly, deducing there was a reason Len had avoided mentioning him, though clearly he was there, but needed to know all the same adding hopefully, "but I guess it wouldn't surprise me if he ran too."

"Dead," Len replied flatly, deciding honesty was best, and for once Barry in no way surprised him when his face fell then contorted into a pained expression.

"Did I…?"

"No," Len answered firmly. "But I couldn't say who."

"You're sure," Barry looked like he wanted to believe him, but also like he was bracing himself as if he was sure Len's answer would change.

"Positive, Scarlet," and Barry nodded, then it was all but silent aside from the whirring and beep of the medical equipment.

"Len," Barry questioned quietly after a few beats. "How- how am I alive? I thought for sure- but I'm not, so- how?"

"Mick," Len replied honestly. "Crashed his bike into..."

"Mick?" there was less surprise in it than Len originally anticipated when he'd trailed off.

"You're Welcome," Mick grumbled causing Len's head to snapped in the direction of the door as he added. "Barry."

Len's eyes widened but his attention was drawn back to Barry when he cried out at the unintentionally jolt.

"Fuck," Len cursed himself as Dr. Snow hustled to Barry's other side.

"I'm alright," Barry insisted, but allowed Len to extract himself, which he was grateful for, because he wanted away from Dr. Snow's worried and somehow almost accusatory disappointed glare, but also, he did not want to let go of Barry just yet, or ever- really.

"Barr!" Iris' exclamation seconds later caused him to start even more and back pedal towards Mick's unoccupied bed as she rushed to hug her brother. "Thank god you're awake!"

Len continued to remove himself as far from the situation as possible, while the Doc interrogated the Speedster who wore a smile that was less reassuring and convincing than Mick's innocent angel impression. Still, Barry maintained the façade, muttering apologies for everything from leading them all into a trap to simply being injured. He was clearly in pain, but he was more worried about them and vanishing the guilt that shone in both women's eyes.

Suddenly, Len was struck by the notion that, that was what good looked like- what it was- the embodiment of the connotation— Barry Allen.

"He's okay, Lenny," Lisa told him quietly placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and Mick saddled up to his other side. "The Flash lives to fight another day."

"Still can't believe that's the Flash," Mick added with an incredulous, but amused shake of his head.

But Len wasn't really listening. He was abruptly and painfully aware there was another line of sorts drawn in the sand here too. One he had helped draw with a life time of less than conscience driven decisions. The wind had kicked up and obscured it, not erased it. Len didn't think it could ever be erased- not completely.

Len not only felt it- he was an outsider, an intruder- but he saw it reflected in the way Mick, Lisa and himself were gathered on one side of the room while Team Flash hugged and threatened one another what might as well have been from across the damn city for the disconnect he felt in that moment.

"I think he's cute," Lisa tried again nudging him playfully. "Don't you, Lenny?"

But Len still wasn't listening. The muted TV none of them possessed the fucks to turn off in the preceding hours caught his attention. It was the morning news and the astounding ticker at the bottom read:

Captain Cold: Central's Villain or Coast City's Hero?

"Lenny?" Lisa questioned in a low but urgent tone before following his gaze. "What the…?"

His sister's incredulous query trailed off as a video of the early morning battle began to play, but not before it drew the attention of the others, who in turn followed her gaze. The media had been there from go, documenting the fund raiser, but the footage picked up at the point where Zoom entered the fray, creating a horrifying funnel cloud of dense smoke seemingly bedazzled- blue lightning.

It had been gut wrenching the first time around, but watching it, even after it was all over, was somehow worse. All he could do was stare. Len watched in silent horror as Barry instigated a fight with the creature hell bend on destroying him and everything he held dear while shooting pleading glances in Len's direction. Perhaps if he'd only listened… instead he simply stood there, looking on in a sort of haze along with everyone else, aside from Firestorm who was doing his damnedest to keep the civilians back.

Not that they'd listened, and apparently, the jackass that shot the nightmare playing on the tiny hospital screen even moved closer.

Zoom's threats were indecipherable, but the menace was still there, especially as Barry's strength began to fade, alarmingly so. It had felt like an eternity, watching the other worldly douche get one up on Barry again and again, before the Scarlet Speedster managed to gain enough breathing room to mount his own assault.

Len wanted to look away when the blur of yellow began to encircle the park, knowing what followed, but he couldn't. Iris gasped and Dr. Snow sniffled when Zoom caught Barry's bolt and returned the sentiment with interest. Even Lisa's nails were digging into his forearm by the time Len stupidly, but belatedly interceded.

"No," Barry breathed after he watched himself go limp and Mick recklessly ram into the black clad Speedster while Len finally, fucking finally, did what he should have done from go.

The scene focused in, catching bits of audio. Everyone, including Mick gasped and the girls covered their mouths at the first blow landed once Zoom's ire turned on Len. He simply watched in a detached sort of analytical way noticing, while he did indeed get his ass handed to him and then some, that Zoom seemed a bit sluggish.

Perhaps Len was just as lucky as Barry to be alive, but he didn't dwell on that, because the realization as to what happened to Bivolo suddenly struck him, prior to the scene before him confirmed his unsettling revelation. Just before Len plunged the stake, for a stake it was, into Zoom's chest the figure he'd thought he might've imagined darted between the trees. Len's eyes widened at noticing Zoom was already dropping him before the stake even found its mark.

It should have occurred to him before- how had the Demonic Speedster not seen it coming?

Because he was distracted by an apparent bigger threat. Despite the early warning the dart still slipped through Zoom's outstretched fingers, though barely—Bivolo.

It'd taken half a day to convince the Meta to at least try and use his abilities to try and level the playing field in their favor, but when he flashed a rainbow of color at their kidnapper it seemed to be a wasted effort. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, it was, in fact, not so useless.

The effects were just delayed and Bivolo still never saw it coming.

Len was a heap of gasping determination where he crumbled at the foot of the oak when Zoom made what Len now knew was a tactical retreat more so than anything else. By the time the lighting trail vanished Bivolo was sprawled on the ground with the splinter that was Len's final fuck you to Zoom and his bid for power embedded in his throat- dead.

"Fuck," Mick muttered under his breath, and while Len shared the sentiment, his voice seemed to have left him as he simply blinked at the screen.

Captain Cold: Central's Villain or Coast's Hero?

What kind of fuckin' bullshit question was that?

"Lenny?" Lisa said quietly but in a tone, he was pretty sure meant she'd said it more than once.

"No," Len replied, though no one in the room had spoken since he'd blinked them into focus and found them watching him anxiously.

"Wasn't your…"

"Don't, Mick," Len snapped. "Just, don't."

"It wasn't Lenny," Lisa insisted anyway. "Can you not, please?"

"You not," Len retorted coldly, though the sentiment didn't sound like anything his sister picked up his meaning and clamped her mouth shut.

Hurt shone in her eyes, and while part of him wanted to take it back, a bigger part of him wanted to be sick.

"Len…" concern, sympathy, irritation as only Barry could manage.

Len held up his hand, refusing to meet the other man's gaze. It was already too much- he was at the tipping point- another regret- it added to the weight on his shoulders.

He'd forced Bivolo try and whammy Zoom, certain that if it worked they'd be able to get a leg up before anyone got hurt, or at least killed. He didn't know the guy from Adam, not really. He wasn't sure he even liked him, but he was part of Len's crew, and now he was dead.

Len had been wrong- as so often seemed to be the case as of late.

"Dad?" Iris suddenly popped to her feet, wide eyed, from where she was perched on the edge of Barry's bed, just where he'd been not five minutes before. "I thought you were going to the house?"

"With both my kids at the hospital, and one of 'em in a coma?" Detective West breezed into the room, only having eyes for his children. "Nah-ah, you're outta your damn mind."

"I'm awake," Barry offered unhelpfully.

"You also almost died, Barr," despite the Detectives' brusque manner, he carefully wrapped his son in an emotionally charged embrace.

"I didn't," Barry reminded returning the sentiment in full.

"What am I going to do with you, son?" Detective West questioned thickly as he pulled back. "What were you thinking?"

"Better me than anyone else?" Barry replied in a light hopeful tone, but when it didn't have the desired affect he added. "At least I was wearing the suit?"

If Len Felt like an intruder before, the scene playing out before him made him feel like a visitor from another planet. Suddenly, he felt claustrophobic. He need to be outside, or at least of the there. However, his first step was amiss and he bumped into Mick who inhaled a bit sharply drawing the eyes of those that seemed to have completely forgotten their presence moments before.

"Len?" Barry questioned confusedly, seemingly unsure of what had happened.

Len did his best to slip into his Captain Cold Persona, but judging by the crease etched in the Speedsters brow he was less than successful.

"Peachy," an automatic response, and Barry's concern deepened, so he continued. "Well, it's been fun, but places to be, people to rob…"

"Oh, no you don't, Snart," the Detective interrupted, pinning him with a hard glare. "Me and you are gonna talk."

"That's not necessary, Detective," Len began.

"The hell it isn't!" and Len didn't blame him, it was a better reaction than he would have expected had he know he was coming, but that didn't mean he was going to stick around to chat.

"Dad!" Iris exclaimed forcefully, which was somehow worse than had it been someone else, even Barry. "You are not doing this right now."

Belatedly, Len realized he didn't exactly mind the fiery reporter, in fact, he sort of liked her.

"I want answers…"

"Not. Right. Now." Iris put her foot down, and in his defense.

If it was too much before, it was impossible right then. It was like Barry's delusion concerning Len's character was contagious. He needed out. Without another word, or looking at anybody, he turned on his heal and headed for the door.

"Len, wait, no," Barry- desperate.

A dagger to his heart as he entered the deserted corridor, and his steps faltered. Still, they didn't stop, because he couldn't: reply, breathe, think- any of it.

"Len!" Even more desperate.

Then a loud crash. He stopped dead in his tracts, despite the impending panic attack urging him forward, willing him to run, before it all consumed him. He swayed on the spot; chest tight, dizzy with dimming vision, scared- so fucking jumbled.

Yet, none of that compared to the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back as Barry's panicked and terrified voice echoed down the empty hall.

"My legs. I can't feel my legs."

Then Len's gave out too


Other A/N: Also, I'm contemplating and Earth Two chapter, cause I had my own vision, as did many of you, I'm sure, as to how it should have gone. lols. So, I dunno, I guess lemme know what cha think? Again, Thank you, and I have been Likes-To-Icicle, come say hi :-)