Long-Ass Author's note: Hi. Again. My apologies for taking so long. I should seriously consider setting up an updating schedule for myself. Huh. Good luck with that, Char. Okay, on another note, here are some important tidbits:

After some very long deliberation after the reveal in 2x16 and subsequent events, I have decided that I am going to keep everything the way it is. I am not going to change my story and the subsequent stories that I had in mind because of a plot twist, because hey, my story, my rules. And this is an AU.

So yeah, the team are still working on fighting Zoom. I have not forgotten about him. But I am taking my own route. I might incorporate some events from the season into this fic, but you never know :).

Some important things, like Earth-2, Jesse coming home, the V-drugs, etc, will be incorporated into this story. No doubt about that. They will just have to happen on my own terms because of the nature of this story. (But hey, isn't that what fanfiction is about? The story on the fan's terms?)

And once again, I am petitioning you med students, nurses, and anyone with a smidgeon of medical know-how to point out medical errors for me and suggest some stuff, because, hey, I am all about accuracy! :)

Anyway, without any further ado, here is CHAPTER 10! WE HAVE MADE IT TO THE DOUBLE DIGITS! YASSS!

Enjoy,

Char.

"Barry, what is going on?"

Barry's heart sank through the floor even as he sat there next to Patty's bed. She didn't remember. He was partially glad that she didn't, but he was also incredibly concerned. How could it be that she pulls a stunt like she did, angry as she was, and not remember any of it?

I never want him to find out how angry I am.

That is what an injured and drunk Patty said to Joe when he arrived on the scene in response to a 911 call placed two days ago by a frantic bystander. It was a Metahuman attack, there was a girl with a gun. She was going to die.

Joe's heart felt like it was about to crawl out of his throat when he saw his partner lying in the middle of the road next to the abandoned warehouse, her blood pooling around her as Mardon stood over her, forming a good-sized ball of hail in his hands. Before Mardon could deliver the final blow, a member of the Taskforce took Mardon out with the boot. Patty's gun was still held in an iron grip, and she had managed to shoot Mardon twice in the shoulder before Joe got to her, applying pressure to the gash in her stomach and coaxing the gun out of her hands.

The ambulances had arrived shortly after. So had Snart.

Snart simply locked eyes with Joe, questioning him. Joe shook his head. That was all he needed. He froze the boot, broke the tethers, and dragged Mardon back towards the warehouse.

That last bit was soon lost in the urgency as the paramedics swarmed around Patty, gently coaxing Joe away.

I never want him to find out how angry I am.

Patty was lifted into the ambulance on a stretcher.

Please, don't tell him. Don't tell him I was angry.

Joe got into the back of the ambulance with his partner.

Barry can't know I'm angry, Joe.

Patty was given morphine, and she began to drift off.

Barry can't know.

But Barry did know. Joe told him. The nurse told him. And he felt like an absolute failure. He was supposed to speak to her. He was supposed to help her. He was supposed to make her feel safe.

Instead, he was so focused on his own pain that he did not even notice that his girlfriend was angry enough to attempt to murder a powerful metahuman that even the Flash could not have defeated on a good day. He was so consumed with his own bad luck that he fell blind to all of the pain consuming her.

She was falling apart before his eyes the whole time and he had never noticed. Not once. What was going to happen to her now?

Patty's urgent "Barry." pulled him out of his guilt-ridden thoughts.

He finally looked up, catching Patty's eyes. Her beautiful, hazel eyes. Their corners were strained back, and her brows were furrowed into a tight frown in the middle of her forehead. The way they were when she was worried, amused, or just confused.

She had so many tells, and yet he had managed to miss the pain.

How did that happen?

Patty squeezed his hand, and Barry realised that he had been staring.

Barry shook his head. "Patty, you are not okay. You are not okay. You have not been for a long time and somehow...somehow I missed that."

Patty's face smoothed out, her eyebrows rose up, and she pressed her lips firmly together as she retracted her hand from Barry's, folding her arms against her chest.

"Patty..." Barry pleaded, extending his hand to her again, only to take it back into his lap as she turned away from him.

"Patty. Talk to me. Please."

No response.

Barry turned his face to the clock and watched the hands move at one beat per second. Slowly he became aware of the warm trickle down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away. He needed her to open up. She did not need him to break down in front of her.

"...know." Patty whispered. Barry turned as quickly as his chair would let him.

"What was that?"

Patty cursed the tears welling up in her eyes, "I did not want you to know."

Barry fought past the pang in his chest and placed his hand on the bed, inviting and non-threatening.

"Why?" Barry ventured after a moment.

Patty's brow furrowed, "I was...scared. I was scared I would lose you."

Barry fought the urge to counter that statement and kept silent, letting her think for a bit before she continued.

"When I was in high school, my Dad...my Dad had a little shoe shop."

Barry leaned a bit closer, and Patty's hand found his.

"It was a small place, on a corner. It...wasn't much, but it paid our bills. My Dad actually loved the place."

A small smile graced Patty's features at the memory, but it was gone as soon as it came.

"After school, I helped my Dad out with the shop. Small things, like shine the shelves. Man the register. Take…take the cash to deposit it at the bank at the end of the week. You know, responsible stuff."

Patty paused, and her breath hitched. Barry squeezed her hand encouragingly.

"One day, I just skipped. I went out to the movies with my friends after school because I thought that I deserved a break. When I got home...the cops were waiting for me. My Dad was dead. He was shot in the face for a couple hundred dollars. And I was out being stupid and silly with my friends and..."

Patty's breathing grew quicker as the dam broke, "It should have been me. It should have been me, Barry. Mardon should have shot me but instead he took my Father away from me."

"Patty..."

"I have made my whole life about getting justice for my father. And now, I have met you and you are really so great. So, so great and this doesn't even feel real to me and I am so scared that you will find out just how angry I am. It will ruin everything. I can't do this to you, I can't be a burden to you. You have been through so much -"

"Patty."

"- and now I am just causing you more pain."

Barry let go of Patty's hand and placed his hand over her bicep, stilling her instantly.

"Patty. Listen to me. You can never be a burden to me, no matter how much pain you went through in the past. No matter what you do. I care too much for you to let that happen. What happened to me, this...stroke of bad luck? It has got nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. What matters right now, is you. I have been far too caught up in myself and my own self-pity that I failed to notice the amount of pain you were in. I can never forgive myself for that."

Patty shook her head, tears glistening on her flushed cheeks, "Barry..."

"I love you, Patty." Barry stated. Simply and firmly.

Patty stared at Barry, her eyes wide and unblinking. Her lip began to tremble, and her brow furrowed further as she tried to keep the tears back.

"I love you." Barry repeated quietly. He watched on as a tear slid down Patty's cheek, but that spectacle was cut short, because he presently had Patty's face pressed into his shoulder.

He brought his arms around her, careful not to aggravate her injuries. He kissed her on top of her head and began rocking her steadily as she finally melted and let years of pain come to the surface, clutching onto him with all that she had.

I love you.

Xxx

"Cisco. It has been two days. You have not hurt anyone. I think it is time you should come out."

"Nope."

"Cisco..."

"Nu-uh."

"At least let Kendra come to see you, Cisco."

"No."

"You can't carry on like this, and you cannot keep pushing her away!" Caitlin burst out, her eyes blazing as she finally reached her limit.

Cisco went silent and looked up, his brown eyes swimming with untold emotion.

"You can't keep pushing us away." Caitlin finished, her voice cracking with finality.

Cisco bowed his head, bringing his knees closer to his body.

"Please."

After a full minute of silence, Cisco finally uncurled himself.

"Where is Barry?"

"He is at the hospital."

Cisco's eyes widened, "Is he okay?"

Caitlin smiled, stilling Cisco's nerves, "Yes. He is fine. He is just visiting someone."

Cisco nodded numbly. Caitlin stepped closer and stood directly in front of the glass.

Cisco looked up and watched Caitlin as she gently set herself down next to the cell and curled up against the glass. Slowly but surely Cisco edged himself closer, until he was leaning against the glass, facing away from Caitlin. Caitlin followed suit and faced away from him, lying back to back with Cisco on her side of the glass.

"You should not blame yourself, Cisco."

"You keep telling me that."

"Because it's true."

"It does not take away the fact that I killed someone. Someones. Two people, Caitlin. Why am I not being investigated for a double homicide?"

"It was an accident."

"An intentional one. I wanted to kill them. After they hurt Kendra...I lost it, Caitlin. How do you know it will not happen again?"

Caitlin worried her lower lip, "We don't know that."

Cisco lifted his eyes to the roof, "Then why am I not already being shipped off to Arkham, or Belle Reve, or something?"

"I am not finished, Cisco."

"I am listening."

"We cannot quantify anything to do with human emotions. I can never guarantee you that you will never want to kill again. I can never guarantee myself that I will ever...get over Ronnie. Nothing is guaranteed. What is true, however, is that at your core? You are a good person, Cisco. And you have us. And we love you. Nothing can change that."

Caitlin turned around and put her hand on the glass, spreading her fingers out, "Nothing can change how much we care about you. How much I care about you."

Cisco turned to look at Caitlin, his lip trembling as he saw her hand on the glass. He put his hand up to match her, and their fingers spread in sync to form a V-shape.

"I am, and always shall be -"

"-Your friend." Cisco finished in time with Caitlin, a single tear trickling down his cheek.

The pair leaned forward, and their foreheads came to rest against the glass. They turned and curled up to sit more comfortably, their hands never leaving their places on either side of the barrier.

That's how Harry found them a few minutes later, Caitlin curled up against the glass, gazing thoughtfully at her best friend, and Cisco finally sleeping for the first time in two days, his hand still pressed against the glass.

Xxx

"They decked the halls with the body parts of a girl named Holly, falalala lalala laaaaa….." The trickster crowed, taking dolls apart and reassembling them into grotesque forms that only he could come up with.

"Shut up or I will freeze your larynx." Mark called irately from where he leaned against a doorpost, his arm in a sling and his shoulder heavily bandaged.

The Trickster's eyes brightened, "Markie! You are up and about! About time hmmm? I almost thought that you forgot about our little mission..."

Mark rolled his eyes, "You try getting shot, Jesse."

"You try getting your hand chopped off! So much fun!" Jesse rebutted, swirling around the warehouse toward another workbench, both hands clearly intact.

Mark lifted an eyebrow, but then proceeded to saunter over to Jesse.

"You haven't seen Snart around, haven't you?"

"He left earlier. Probably to go on one of his stalking episodes. Always this one kid, never could figure out why he was so special."

Mark nodded, "I think he might know something. Something important."

Jesse paid Mark almost no mind, finishing off an explosive candy cane.

Mark thought for a moment, "You said he only ever follows this one kid, right? Always the same one?"

Jesse snorted, "I see absolutely no point in it, unless he is on some pity parade. The kid is paralysed, and quite boring if I say so myself. However -"

Jesse paused, fishing a photograph out of his breast pocket and slapping it in front of Mardon, his eyes gleaming wickedly, "I took this two days ago. He is very attractive, hmmm?"

Mark brushed off Jesse's last comment, carefully studying the photograph. The kid looked vaguely familiar.

"Do you know who he is?"

The Trickster feigned being hurt, "Honestly, Markie, do think that I do not do my research? His name is Barry Allen, the used-to-be forensic assistant for the CCPD. He got his wheels in a very vague accident about three months ago, the very same time that a certain friend of ours was taken out by the Dark Speedster, never to be seen again!" Jesse finished triumphantly.

Mark pressed his lips thinly together, the irritation in his chest threatening to boil over. If Jesse saw the faint mist forming around Mardon's good hand, he did not show it.

"You knew that Barry Allen was the Flash, and you did not think to tell us?" Mark seethed, his eyes darkening dangerously.

The Trickster's eyes gleamed in amusement, "Calm down, Markie! I like my friends to do their own thinking! However, Lenny knew the Flash's identity long before this proposition of yours came along, and he failed to share that information with the class, for what reason I do not know! However, I would have thought that he would have been a bit more careful with his 'visitations'. It did not take me very long to connect the dots."

Mardon took the photograph in his hand, studying it intently. The photograph was taken from an angle that captured the kid and everything around him without the photographer being caught. He had to admit that the Trickster was an excellent stalker. The photograph was taken just outside Central City hospital. Allen was being pushed by a young, dark skinned woman out the main doors, which were being held by a man who looked startlingly familiar, but it was impossible to tell who he was as he was facing away from the camera. The two facing the camera both looked pretty distressed, Allen especially, his lips pressed into a thin line as his empty eyes stared off to the side. If Mardon had to guess, he was either visiting a friend or a relative…

Patty Spivot. She was a detective for the CCPD. She started working there a good couple of weeks before the Showdown. Now Mark remembered where he heard Allen's name before. Patty Spivot often worked closely with Barry Allen. Post-Showdown, she often took early days and left to do who-knows-what. (Yes, Mardon did extensive research on Spivot after two nights ago. He had to know who she was.)

The puzzle pieces all fell together. The two knew each other. They were possibly friends, maybe more. Not only was this girl the bitch that tried to take him out, she was also dating his arch-Enemy that stole his only chance at vengeance for his brother.

"Your hands mist up when you are pissed at someone, you know that? I knew that. It is very useful." The Trickster drily spoke up, playing with a dismantled doll's arm.

Mardon turned the photo to Jesse, "You know who this is?" Mardon asked, pointing to the man holding the door.

Jesse began giggling, and the giggling turned into full fledged laughter.

The mist around Mardon's hand intensified.

"I was surprised you did not recognise him from the get-go, Markie. That is Detective Joe West."

Joe West.

The world swam, and Mardon's vision turned red around the edges.

Snart had explaining to do.

Mark had killing to do.