"Snart!" Barry cried in surprise as he backpedaled. "What the hell—"
"Convince Michael to drop this and that we'll finish the case without him."
"What?" Barry couldn't use his speed he was so floored that Snart would threaten to shoot him. His hands rose automatically as he continued backing into the Accelerator, and Snart kept on coming, cold gun glowing and aimed squarely at Barry's chest. "You can't—"
"He'll listen if you're the one who turns him away," Snart said, as cold and deadly serious as he'd ever sounded before. "If necessary, as both Barry and The Flash."
He wasn't bluffing. He'd been pushed too far tonight seeing Michael in harm's way. But Barry couldn't agree to this when it clearly wasn't good for either of them.
"No way," he said as he dropped his arms. "We need Michael, and he wants to help us."
Snart powered up the gun with a brighter glow.
"Go ahead!" Barry stood his ground. "Cover me from head to toe. It'll be a lot harder to recover without the suit, so good luck explaining to everyone in the other room. I'm not doing that to Michael no matter what you threaten." He dared to take a step forward. "And you shouldn't want to do that either. Or do you really want to be like the controlling asshole who raised you?"
The accusation raised Snart's hackles like an injured animal ready to snap its jaws. Barry knew it was a harsh thing to say, but that's how Snart operated—fire with fire. Or at least with ice. And just like Barry hoped, the moment before the gun would have fully and truly blasted him, Snart sobered with the truth of his words.
His arm sagged with a release in his shoulders like that night with Lewis when Lisa was finally safe. It left a stricken, agonized expression on his face that Barry hated, but he thought maybe he understood where Snart was coming from.
"You're not like him," Barry said, still cautious in his progression forward. "And I know this has to scare you—"
"It does," Snart bit out like it pained him to admit that. "And I don't scare easy."
As if Barry would ever think otherwise, but he had to smile, because Snart was too hard on himself, even if he had been about to turn Barry into a popsicle. Joe might have done the same in defense of him, Iris, or Wally. Barry's dad might have too. Hell, Barry might have done the same under the right circumstances.
"You love Michael and don't want to see him hurt," Barry said. "But this is what he wants. He's at risk, yes, I know how frustrating that can be. My entire family is at risk all the time. But you have to accept that Michael knows what he's doing, that you'll always do everything you can to protect him…and so will I. So will everyone in this building. And Mick and Lisa, for that matter."
Agony was an odd thing to see on Snart's face. Emotion was an odd thing to see there, beyond smugness or a cool exterior. Displaying shame for his actions for the first time since Barry met him, Snart put the gun away with a bow of his head. Maybe it wasn't shame for being willing to do anything for his family, but for trying to undermine his son.
"He won't tell me why this is so important," Snart said, low and secretive as if more to himself than to Barry. He wasn't a sharer, but Barry latched on to the rarely offered thread.
"Then maybe you need to keep pushing." He moved steadily closer now that the gun was out of the picture. "Though probably not the way you were acting just now. If Michael is as stubborn as you are, and I'm guessing he is, that's only going to make him hold back more."
"Coz you know me so well, do you?" Snart said, glancing up at Barry with familiar intensity, familiar challenge that Barry was happy to rise to the occasion to accept.
"I like to think I do."
Smirking in response to Barry's banter, Snart's amusement unfortunately couldn't last, but drained away quickly. "I'm making it worse. Screwing it all up like I knew I would. How can I be the father he wants me to be and keep him safe when this city demands for me to be something else? Sooner or later he's going to realize I'm not worth his time." A cringe marred his face at realizing how much he'd admitted, yet still he added, "I just want to keep him safe before that happens."
"Leonard…" Barry used the man's given name before he could catch himself, moved by his openness.
"This is what I understand." Snart drew his gun once more but only lifted it half-heartedly. "This is how I solve problems. I don't know how not to. What if I do something I can't take back? Something he won't forgive me for? Kill again. Scream at him wrong."
"Hit him?" Barry asked boldly.
"I'd never—"
"But you think about it," he realized the truth of that as he said it. "You worry, even though you know you'd never do it."
Barry didn't know what it was like to grow up fearing a parent. Everyone around him thought he should fear his father, believing him a killer when Barry had known otherwise, but he never once felt it, and he never felt it toward Joe either. His fathers made him feel safe. Fathers were supposed to make their children feel safe. Snart just wanted that for Michael too.
If Snart was anyone else in Barry's life, he would have hugged him. He'd nearly kissed Snart several times in the past few days, tonight it had even been on purpose, but hugging him felt too intimate somehow.
"Listen…" Barry made an instinctive reach for Snart, even if he wouldn't have been bold enough to embrace him, but when the thief slunk back just as instinctively, he hissed and reached for the shoulder Light had grazed with her powers. Barry thought only the trench coat had been damaged. "She got you, didn't she? Here. Let me see it. Take off your shirt."
"What?" Snart huffed, but Barry moved for the lab station by the wall before there could be any dissent, fairly certain there was a first aid kit underneath—more so for Cisco than for him. "Do you think me so easy, Barry?"
There was the Snart Barry was used to, always quick with a comeback and good at deflecting. Barry wondered what it would take for Snart to not flinch at a show of comfort, but it had been a rough night and he owed the man his understanding more than pressure to change all his stripes at once.
"No ulterior motives. Though I can't make that same promise once I have you undressed." He waggled an eyebrow at him.
Snart glanced away with a snort, stowing the gun again but looking…anxious. Nervous. "It isn't necessary."
"Your hiss says otherwise. Come on. We have supplies here I can use." Barry held up the first aid kit and gestured for Snart to sit in the adjacent chair. "It's just me. No one else has to see anything."
Blue eyes landed on him with gravity, with weight. This wasn't only about seeing Snart dressed down; it was about the evidence likely painting his skin that detailed his reason for flinching in the first place. Barry didn't know for certain, but he had a feeling, and his feelings about Snart tended to be right.
"Or I can tell Caitlin, and when Michael overhears, he'll probably fuss over you until—"
"Fine," Snart gave in with a glare that wasn't at all heated, causing Barry to smile for knowing how to push without pushing. Snart needed to tend to his wound, and it was easier just between them. "But don't think I'll always be so easy to order around."
Carefully, he removed himself of his trench coat, leaving the dark grey half-zipped sweater and black undershirt he'd worn at dinner and revealing the slice through his coat having gone all the way through. He sat as instructed but hesitated as he was about to further undress. When he finally giving in, another hiss sounded before he could get the shirts up halfway.
"Here. Let me help."
"I don't need—"
"I'm the hero, remember?" Barry said as he moved to Snart's side. "I'm allowed to help."
With a sigh, Snart conceded once more, allowing Barry to remove his arms from the sleeves and lift both sweater and undershirt over his head. "As the villain, I'm allowed to think you're insufferable."
Barry snickered. "Yeah? Well you're being a lousy villain again this week."
"Cute."
Setting the clothing on the lab station, Barry placed the first aid kit within reach and stood at Snart's side to get a look at the cut. It wasn't deep, but it was partially cauterized, so he'd have to stitch it carefully. Luckily, he was a good sewer, and very fast.
To be honest, Snart looked more normal than Barry had expected. Sure, there were scars, but not the mural of twisted tissue he was prepared for. There was toned muscle, a little softness around Snart's middle, chest hair. It was humbling, he was so ordinary, not that he wasn't beautiful. But for Snart, he was still exposed, and that was difficult for him in front of anyone. So Barry didn't say anything, just set to work, doing the stitch job at Flash speed, though for the rest, he took his time to make sure he was gentle.
Never once did Snart say he was sorry for pulling the gun, but the way he looked at Barry with an occasional sideways glance said something. Something Barry was certain he liked seeing.
"I don't get why it can't be like this all the time if that's what you want too," he said, smoothing a bandage finally over the patched up cut. "For Michael. For you. Has anything about this week been boring?"
A cringe passed over Snart's features that didn't seem related to the wound. "Can't say it has."
"Does it seem so impossible then?" Barry smiled. "You can still be what you think Michael needs you to be and be you. He'd never want you to not be you. I wouldn't either. But that's because I know there are two sides to you, and I like seeing this part too. I like seeing you. I like Michael. I like all of this, amazingly enough." He let his fingers trail down Snart's arm without pulling away.
"Barry…" Snart glanced down again, shifting as if to stand.
"I like you," Barry said, stupid as it sounded, before Snart could move away or deny him this. "I care about what happens to you. And you can pretend that you only care about yourself all day long, but we both know I'm not going to believe that anymore. You're a good man who had tough breaks. Who made mistakes. It took Michael for you to finally admit that without shielding yourself in bravado and puns all the time."
The unamused glare that snapped up made Barry laugh.
"Not that I don't enjoy the bravado and puns, because I do. I just don't think there has to be only one way, one side to anyone. Compromise, right?" He smiled a little brighter, hoping Snart would mirror him.
He didn't, but maybe it was enough that he didn't get up or lean away or immediately shut Barry down either, though he looked pained again like he wasn't sure what to say. "Between you and Michael saying that so often, I could almost believe it."
"You can." Barry moved closer, though there was hardly any space between them already. "If you want something different. You're allowed to what something different."
"Even if I don't deserve it?"
Barry smiled sadly back at him, but he still smiled. "When someone wants you back, they're kind of the one who gets to decide that."
They'd never laid it all bare like this before, no masks, not even a shirt for Snart, just emotion and promises and want.
Snart's eyes flicked down Barry's body and back to his face, positioned only slightly lower than Barry in the tall chair while Barry stood. Even though this wasn't Saints and Sinners, there was still something reminiscent of the fake memory they'd made up in Mercury Labs about the prelude to a first kiss.
Sudden fear that they'd be interrupted swept through Barry, and he reached for the curve of Snart's neck before he could lose his nerve and moved in slow but purposeful to claim the kiss they'd been denied. Snart hummed and leaned toward him, even pressing into Barry's hand.
A kiss in the kitchen couldn't have been better. It was simple and chaste at first, only for Snart to pull away and then press deeper the second time.
Barry shuddered, following Snart's lead to open their mouths and delve more boldly. There was no need to rush this, nothing to hurry over, so they kept on like that, gently exploring each other for several minutes until Snart pulled away for air.
"Was that…just the way you imagined it, Scarlet?" he said while Barry thumbed his cheekbone.
"Yeah…" he whispered back, thinking he'd go for more until a louder chorus of voices sounded from the other room. "I think McGee and the others are here."
A different sort of sigh left Snart, but the tension had dropped from his shoulders and some of the sadness was gone too. He gestured past Barry for his clothes. "Then we best get back to them."
XXXXX
Len was out of his mind—clearly. He'd tried to threaten The Flash into manipulating his son for his own gains. Well, for Michael's safety, but for his own selfish desires over Michael's. However misguided the boy might be, Len didn't want to be that kind of father.
Compromise. He could compromise.
Which was starting to look at little too much like freefalling, but Barry might be worth the crash.
He couldn't dwell on that now. There was something new waiting to interrupt them. There was always something, but Barry's hands had been warm helping him out of his clothing—and back in—which was also a thought for later.
Henry and McGee had indeed brought the brownies, apologizing that there appeared to be one missing once they'd placed them back in the pan.
"Can't imagine who snitched one." Len didn't try to hide his accusation, and added that Barry only got seconds after everyone else had had their share.
Even with Hartley, Cisco, and Caitlin included, there were still a few left over, however, and Barry batted his eyes at Len hopefully, before Len had to cave. At least the exchange meant Michael smiled at him like he usually did, tension broken.
"Flash doesn't mind having all these people in the Labs?" Michael asked.
Tension restored. Some of these people did not have 'proficient liar' on their resume, while some did it so naturally, even Len would have believed Flash and Barry Allen were different people.
"Barry owns this place now, you know," Henry said. "Technically, Flash is the one playing guest and compensates for use of its resources through his service to the city."
Huh. Being in lockup for fifteen plus years had some side effects apparently. Or Henry had always been that smooth.
"While your baking skills are noteworthy, Mr. Snart," McGee said after finishing her last bite and tossing aside her napkin, "I'd like to hear about the newest break in at my company, if you please."
With Len and Michael taking point since 'The Flash' was no longer present, they once again explained the events with Dr. Light. Iris and Wally were both concerned of course, but it was Wally who called Linda, breathing relief when he got an answer on the second ring and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.
The phone passed between him and his sister a few times, ending in Iris offering Linda to meet her at her place so she wouldn't be alone tonight, with Wally taking up the sofa bed for what he stammered was 'additional backup'.
Young love was adorable when Len had no stake in it. Glancing occasionally at Michael, bandaged and dressed and sitting in a chair rather than atop the med bed, giggling and leaning in toward Hartley Rathaway, was a touch more difficult. Hartley was still a meta, still a part-time member of Team Flash, still…trouble. Maybe. Probably. And Len added enough trouble into Michael's life.
"At this rate, you can start offering frequent thievery passes," Cisco said to McGee, though the severe woman did not find the comment funny.
"Despite popular opinion, Mr. Ramon, I do not have a 'please steal my hard-earned research' sign hung above the door."
The comment drew Len back to the discussion, while several of the others had scattered about the Cortex.
"Maybe if you stopped researching nuclear and other volatile weapons, we wouldn't be in this mess," he said. He liked McGee. He appreciated Michael's position at her company, but there were ways to lessen supervillain targets being painted on your back.
"Mr. Snart," she turned to him, "how someone chooses to use my research is one thing, but I never created any of it with the intention of harm. Mercury Labs does not do weapons contracts. Michael's wing, in particular, is solely dedicated to the medical field. I assumed you knew that."
Medical?
"Michael is part of our cancer research. He wanted to look into absolute zero to freeze cancerous cells, freeze time at the subatomic level so the affected cells can no longer grow or spread, without destroying the healthy tissue. It was never meant to be weaponized."
Cancer research. Michael never mentioned that before. He never told Len any of that.
"Makes sense," Barry said with a touch of melancholy. "That's how his mother died. She was battling it when I met him, that's what drove him to thermodynamics. We bonded over it a little," he smiled at his father amid the group, "our careers of choice being molded by our moms."
By his mother. But if it was only that, Michael would have said something, wouldn't he?
"Snart, are you okay?" Barry asked after Len had gone quiet.
"Fine." He couldn't say more, not when he wasn't sure how deep this went. He didn't care how sincere those hazel eyes looked.
"Hey, Dad?" Michael came over finally, moving slow and ginger. "The doc says I'm free to go now. Ready?"
Len nodded without saying more. They weren't truly done here, but there wasn't much to be done tonight, and he needed time with Michael to think. It didn't help his disposition that Hartley gripped Michael's hand before they left, promising they'd get together soon, leaving Barry looking after them like he wished he could do the same with Len.
Not yet. Len passed him as congenial an expression as he could manage, hoping Barry understood, and Barry seemed to, nodded back and smiled with a look of longing Len honestly wanted to reciprocate, but right now he had a few other mysteries to unravel.
He drove him and Michael home without laying into the boy like he'd initially planned, though the silent treatment made Michael tense in his seat. Good. It couldn't only be about Len asking for the truth; Michael had to want to come clean. It pained Len that he hadn't, and that he seemed to have no plans on doing so.
Once they were at the nearest safe house so Michael could rest under supervision, which he agreed to without complaint, Len asked point blank, one more time.
"Why is this research so important to you?"
"It just is, Dad. You wouldn't understand."
Fine. Then Len had to do this his way.
XXXXX
It was fairly easy following Michael the next morning. McGee had insisted he take the day off, but still Michael rose early, took his pain meds, had breakfast, then told Len he wanted to head home to his apartment and was a big enough boy to make it on his own.
Len knew how to tail someone better than most, certainly better than Mick, who'd trained Michael. Amazing how the right outfit and a hat could hide someone from even their nearest kin.
If it hadn't been for the lies Michael was telling, Len would have been relieved to see him head for Central City General, but the boy wasn't going about his burns. For near an hour, Len watched his son make rounds in the cancer ward, visiting patients. He wasn't there to see a doctor, but still, Len thought he knew what this might be about, and it scared him too much to wait for a timely reveal.
As soon as he had Michael alone, in an out of the way waiting room getting coffee, he stood in the doorway until Michael noticed him.
"Dad!" he nearly spilled his coffee when he did.
"Just tell me you're not sick."
"What?" Michael gaped at him. "Of course not."
A wave of relief flooded through Len. At least his first concern could be dismissed. "I know your mother died of cancer," he said, removing his hat as he stepped into the room. "You told me that much. Why didn't you tell me that this research of yours is wrapped up in the same thing?"
Letting all pretenses finally drain away, Michael slumped into a chair beside the coffee maker. "Because. I was too late to save her," he said in a small voice. "A year ago, six months ago, I could have. I kept telling her I would. I met all the people here after Mom had to be hospitalized, and it made me want to work harder for all of them. I wasn't fast enough for Mom, but I can still save some of those people.
"Some of them only have days, Dad," he said as Len took the seat beside him, "some weeks, some maybe years, but for most there's no way to know, and every second counts. I knew Mom was getting close to the end when she told me about you. She swore for so long she never would."
"Why didn't you tell me this?" Len asked.
"Because I wanted to be a good thing in your life, Dad."
"You are."
Michael's smile twitched truer, but then fell with a sparkle of tears forming. "I'm maybe not as okay about Mom being gone as I pretend."
"And you don't think I can understand that? Because I had a mother who chose to leave and a father I wish had never been there?" The twinge and aversion of Michael's eyes said enough. "It is different, you're right. I don't know what it's like to lose a parent I wished had stuck around. But I do know what it's like to lose a grandfather who was more of a parent than my father ever was."
"You do?" Michael perked up, since Len rarely shared anything personal outside of Lisa prompting him. "Can you tell me about him?"
"Yes. But first, any other secrets you have to tell me?"
"Well," Michael leaned conspiratorially closer, "if you didn't know this already…I'm gay," he whispered.
Len cracked a smile, amazed that even now Michael could joke, though it amazed him even more that his gut reaction was to pull Michael against him. For once, he decided to give into that instinct and breathed in the comfort of having Michael close.
Maybe between this remarkable boy and the remarkable superhero Len couldn't shake, his walls were destined to whittle down.
"How about, before we check in with the STAR Labs crew, I treat you to an early lunch at a place my grandfather used to take me, and I'll tell you all about him."
"I like that idea." Michael snuggled closer before pulling up. "Want to call Aunt Lisa to join us?"
"She'd be offended if we didn't."
XXXXX
Barry was relieved that afternoon to welcome Snart and Michael back to the Labs without them dancing around each other. They must have talked. Good. For all of Michael's openness, apparently father and son were both good at subterfuge.
Unfortunately, success between Snarts did not help with finding leads on Light. Someone who could make themselves invisible did not show up on CCTV, and no one had seen any sign of an extra Linda Park around. She was keeping her head down.
They tried to search for the cold signature, different as it was from Snart's, but that only worked if the gun had been fired recently, which thankfully it hadn't been.
Snart was talking with Cisco and Caitlin about ways his underworld contacts might be of use, when Barry took a moment to pull Michael aside.
"You sure the burns are okay?"
"Dr. Snow already checked them, Barry, and the pain meds work fine. Just a slight ache. It was last night that I woke up practically crying before I lurched out of bed to take more. Totally my own fault!" he said with a grin.
How could he be charming and adorable even when talking about being in pain? Or maybe that was the most dangerous trick of all. "Any other aches and pains I need to worry about?" Barry glanced not at all subtly at Snart.
Michael chuckled, looked away with a shaky sigh, and finally met Barry's gaze with clearer honesty. He told Barry what he and Snart had talked about that morning. Barry should have known Michael had altruistic reasons behind his research. He'd always been the type to put others before himself.
"You're almost a better liar than your dad," Barry said. "I didn't realize how much you were still hurting over your mother."
"It's not all the time," Michael said. "I just didn't want to bring Dad down. I never want to bring anyone down. Down is a shitty place to be. But sometimes I'm just so tired." His smile cracked with shimmer of wetness in his eyes. "And I miss her so much."
Even with the others close enough to see, Barry reached for Michael's shoulder the way he couldn't yet with Snart and tugged him close. "I know," he said as Michael sank against him. "I know. But you talked. That's good."
"Yeah." Michael hugged him back fiercely before he let go. "We're good. I think it's you, you know. Why he's been able to open up more. I'm glad he has you, Barry. As a friend," he added like a hurried afterthought.
"Uh huh. Sure. Maybe you're not that good of a liar."
Michael grinned as if he'd never come close to crying. If only Barry could think of the right words without telling him the whole truth, Michael might have some tips about how to move on from last night's first kiss to not going back to being mortal enemies when this was over.
Barry thought he had a vague idea of what to say as he opened his mouth—
Only for a shot of lightning to tear through the Cortex.
"The hell was that?" Cisco whirled in his chair, while Snart and Caitlin both stood at attention, and Barry was up on his toes ready to run after…whatever that just was—though how could he with Michael right there?
Then It came again—a shock of electricity in bright yellow lightning.
Eobard? No, his lightning was red.
Jesse? But why would she be on Earth-1 again?
Before Barry could think any harder about who or what the lightning might be, the bundle of sparks shot through the Cortex again and this time, finally, it skidded to a stop, revealing Wally at the center.
"Dude!" Cisco shouted as he and Caitlin rushed to catch the kid before he could fall over or take off again unintentionally.
His meta gene must have activated!
"Try to keep your breathing steady to slow your heartrate," Caitlin ordered, not looking nearly as spooked as Cisco, or Wally himself for that matter.
They led him to the med bed and sat him down, though he was shaking from the surge of power flowing through him, which Barry knew intimately well. He was more than shaking, actually—every once in a while, he vibrated.
"What happened?" Barry asked as he, Snart, and Michael all hovered inside the med room. "What triggered this?"
"You can't be The Flash," Michael said, more to himself than as a question. "Are you another speedster?"
"I think…" Wally took a breath to calm himself like Caitlin had said. "I think I'm turning into one. We were just kissing. Okay, more like making out," he glanced aside, since Caitlin was all over him, checking his vitals. "And when I started shaking, I figured I was just nervous. Then I started really shaking." He still was, vibrating every so often until he stared at the offending limb to calm down.
"With Linda?" Barry said as he realized who Wally would have been making out with, because wow, they had a little too much in common. But then maybe it was a speedster thing. A Linda Park with a speedster thing, not that Barry was about to answer the accusatory stare from Snart by admitting that right now.
"She stayed at Iris's last night," Wally reminded them, "and I was on the sofa. So after Iris went to work, we were talking. I didn't have class, she'd decided to take the day off, so we…you know."
"Noted," Cisco gestured for him to get on with it. "And then…?"
"Then this," Wally held up his once again blurring fingers.
"Just stay calm, okay?" Barry said, placing a hand on Wally's knee, hoping to temper his erratic connection to the Speed Force without making it too obvious. "This is normal. Elevated heartrate can cause those reactions even when you do have control over your powers."
"How do you know that?" Michael asked.
"Oh, uhh…Cisco and Caitlin have all sorts of weird meta stories," Barry shrugged. "You tend to pick up on things."
"So after you started vibrating," Cisco returned to Wally, "you left Linda alone and ran here?"
"I didn't mean to!" Wally defended. "I couldn't stop myself. I kept moving. I went right through the door! I was just trying to give myself a direction to go, but before I could get control of my speed, I'd already made it all the way here. You have to call Linda so she knows what happened," he beseeched Barry.
She was going to get such a complex over this. "Of course I will," Barry said, pulling away from Wally to fumble for his phone.
"But you said you weren't around when the Particle Accelerator exploded," Michael said, already analyzing the science side of this. "When were you exposed to dark matter?"
"Long story," Wally admitted, "but it involved Zoom, The Flash, and my ex-girlfriend."
"Seriously?"
"Wally?" Iris burst into the Cortex before Barry could finish dialing Linda. "What are you doing here? What happened?"
Another shiver of vibrations wracked through Wally and sparks danced across his shoulders in answer.
"His meta genes triggered," Caitlin said, looking satisfied with the vitals she'd taken despite the errant surges of power. "I'll need a blood sample to be sure, but it looks like he's connected to the Speed Force just like The Flash."
Wally half-laughed before taking several more breaths while Iris rushed through the others to reach him. "I'd be excited if it didn't feel like my heart was going to beat out of my chest."
"While this definitely needs to be discussed," Iris said, turning to address everyone, and taking note of Michael in their midst, which meant she couldn't be wholly transparent, "it's not our main problem."
"What do you mean?" Barry asked.
"The reason I came here instead of stopping at home first was because I was worried I'd need to ask The Flash to go by my apartment."
"What? What for?"
Pulling out her phone, she turned it toward them. "Because I got a message from Linda."
"Oh god," Wally sparked with a few fresh bursts of yellow, "is she freaking out because I ran off? I didn't mean to."
"No, Wally," Iris said solemnly, staring at her phone with a pained expression that also seemed relieved that he was here instead of back at her apartment, "I got a message from the real Linda, who's thinking of visiting during her vacation next week and who has not at any point considered moving back to Central."
TBC...
