It's always cold when you're in a prison cell, and it's something that you notice no matter which bars you're locked behind. A five-week sentence to five life sentences, it's always the same. No matter the country, no matter the state, no matter the security level. There's a brisk chill in the air, an icy blade held up to your throat. It's something that's always the same around the world. Ice water in your veins. The chill is inescapable, and everyone knows about it but nobody says anything. Something about the combination of concrete walls and steel bars changes how you look at the world. Darkness seems darker, the air carries a heavy, dangerous edge and the sounds around you seem so much sharper and ominous. You don't trust anyone who's in with you. And the cold itself is ...odd. Sort of like visiting your favorite places from childhood and finding all the magic drained away and replaced with a thick grey haze. You don't think about the cold, and the cold marches on. It's a slow drawn out ordeal, and you might never notice it creep up on you until it's too late. It's a strange chill that starts in your toes and fingers, spreads through your body numbing you to all outside sensation and the chill soon settles deep into your bones. And even if you do manage to get out of there the chill will always follow you, threatening to take you back to that place at the first sound of closing metal doors. Everyone who has passed behind those doors and returned knows that even if you rejoin society, you will never truly get out of there.

Professor Candice Providence now knows the drudgery of daily life behind prison walls, the atmosphere behind the bars is toxic and she would do anything if it meant she could get out. She even did something she hadn't done since her childhood even though she knew it would never work. Even though she held no belief and knew that it was pointless, she prayed. She prayed to all of the gods she knew of, she prayed for something, anything, other than the life she was currently living in. The boredom and emptiness, the loneliness even when surrounded by the other prisoners. The lack of control of her time. While the other Metahumans were there, they weren't really there . Not in the truest sense of the word. They too were empty husks, living on the cusp of nothingness. She may have looked down on them, but she still craved the silent company of her creations. Dictatorship was what she was used to, not this cellblock of suppressed fear and hate. Surrounded by fearful prisoners may be a life, but it is not truly living. And of course the other metahumans still respect her, and they keep their distance. They've seen what she's capable of in the past few days, but they are a danger she is not willing to put up with for much longer. Simple minded and so angry at the world.

She wants out, and the opportunity comes to her in the form of one Barry Allen in the visitation area. She wants out, even if it means sitting here listening to the Flash talk about recovering the memories of his insignificant criminal companion. Bah , there's no real reason for her not to give the criminal access to his blocked out memories, she just doesn't really see the point to all of it. She hadn't meant to block out their memories in the first place, just answer some questions, but she had no idea why Captain Cold wanted them back. If you don't need the memories then why try and return them? It's confusing, yet ultimately unimportant in her opinion. In her mind they are all insignificant, like insects to be crushed beneath her feet. It was unintended to break them and now she couldn't care any less about the state of their mind. Humanity as a whole is unimportant in her opinion. There is something much larger than them out there in the city. Whenever she closes her eyes and reaches for her blocked powers instead she can hear the whisper of what sleeps beneath the city streets. The creatures she made are out there, biding their time, gaining strength. Her army of betrayers lives on, she can feel them sitting there below, their deep power rumbling in her bones. They may have ran from the battle in the city, but in the end they are still her creations and are more important to her than anything she could imagine.

So she sits quietly, smiles and nods along to the empty words as the Flash speaks to her through the phone and hardened glass, even just the few hours of freedom he promises will be more than enough time to raise her army once more. Restore the memories of a weak minded human and she will be on her way to Godhood. Unbelievably easy, all because humans desire to help one another. Behind the reinforced glass she nods, plans forming in her mind. This will be easier than she thought, humans are such simple things really. Driven by nature and hunger and sentiment . Almost disgusting with how easy to control and manipulate they are. Even without any kind of greater power humans have been manipulating each other for millennia. Since the dawn of time humans have played mind games far more complex than she ever has. Where the hell do you think megachurches come from? Pure manipulation. So why not play along with the humans shallow little game, they're simply a means to an end. They've always only been that to her, and she will have what she wants. She always gets what she wants in the end. Well, except for being locked up, she didn't exactly want that.

And she listens as the plan is made to return the memories of the criminal in exchange for what the humans think are simply a few hours of freedom. Barry seems excited about all of this, obviously he had some sort of strong emotional connection to the villain. It's absolutely ridiculous, even before she gained her powers she's never understood why people were so sentimental. Forging lasting connections with people out of something other than necessity had never been that important to her. Human psychology is so simplistic, hardly above the levels of the most basic animals. Most human emotional responses were meant to manipulate other members of the species. She rolls her eyes as the Flash lays out his plan. It's a simple plan really, the speedster will take have two of the Rogues take distraction duty on the guards during shift change while the members of his team just walk in and escort her out of her cell for a few hours. Almost too easy it would seem. It also seems that he hasn't informed the criminal whose memories she is meant to be restoring about this plan. Most compelling. Not her concern though, she's much more interested in the jailbreak. However, that's not the only thing Providence has in mind as she nods in understanding. Before he leaves, the Flash tells her that he'll have the team return that night to get her out, but it is all irrelevant. The timeframe of events is unimportant, just as long as it occurs.

Guards hustle her back down the hall to the Metahuman Wing. They'll be back for her soon. It's almost two and she has her first court-mandated appointment with the new Iron Heights Metahuman Wing therapist in about an hour. Utter nonsense really, she knew more about her own mental processes than any mere human could ever hope. But this therapist, Greg Salinger, some sort of professional in his field of dealing with criminally insane people with powers. Candice has never heard of him before. Whoever he is, she was certain she could manipulate her way out of this with ease. She knows how counselors tactics are supposed to work on the human animal, and she is not interested in the slightest. She may be considered to be 'criminally insane' but she doesn't need a damn therapist, she just needs to be released and recognized as a New God. Plus, she doesn't want this meeting to make her be late to the poker game with some of the other Meta prisoners. They stole an old pack of cards from the guards and have been using the money in their canteen accounts as collateral. She hasn't lost a game yet, can bluff her way through any bad hand, and only folds when there is no other option. So far she's gotten an extra hundred bucks out of the other convicts, and payday is coming up soon. She has no need for the money of course, and she won't be there to collect, but watching the dismay on the faces of her opponents gives her a sense of elation in each one of their many failings. They still haven't caught on to the fact that she's been counting cards on every game, and she's definitely not looking forward to the game that they do.

She should be out of here by then though, so she's not too worried.

Sitting in her empty cell, she waits quietly for the guards to return. The guards have been talking amongst themselves, and she's heard that she might be getting a cellmate sometime within the next week. There's the room for it, but that can't be allowed to happen, a cellmate would destroy her routine. She may not be busy, but Candice does appreciate her space and solitude. She's been doing a lot of reading the past few days, there's not much else to do in here. Working out would be almost pointless, besides, there are quite a few Metas in the available gym whenever they have the time for it. Just a small gym, machines only, no free weights. She would never debase herself by befriending the other prisoners, so talking is not an option. And Mardon is doing enough talking for the entire cellblock. He'll rant at everyone about anything. Research is almost impossible in here, but she has been keeping her eye on the Metas with serious changes in their body chemistry and physiology. Tarpit, and that nutcase that they call Double Down. Even she thinks Jeremy Tell is completely crazy, and his power is just weird in her opinion. Tattoos becoming throwing cards is just unnatural. How do the tattoos become three-dimensional deadly weapons? How are they removed? If she could study him… but now is not the time to make useless wishes. Not having access to their powers seems not to be taking a toll on their health as she had first expected. If she had access to her laboratory she would know exactly why they seemed just as healthy as they did before life in prison. Oddly enough, they even seem not to be too unhappy in here. She doesn't quite understand it. But soon she won't have to be concerned. All in good time.

*Providence Waits*

An hour later and back at STAR Labs the members of Team Flash and the members of the Rogues Gallery who know about the plan have convened for a meeting concerning said plan. Well, I say it's a meeting, but it's more of an ever escalating shouting match between Barry Allen and Lisa Snart. While they both have the support of their respective teammates, they are the only two actively involved in the argument. Barry and Cisco seem to think it's a great idea, 'what could go wrong with it?' While the rest of them, Lisa and Mick, seem to think that it's absolutely idiotic, 'you morons are going to get yourselves arrested!'

Caitlin hasn't voiced any opinion on the breakout itself, but she said that letting Providence have any access to her powers is suicidal, 'do you want to get killed by that psychopath? I'm pretty sure that's much worse than being arrested.' So it's quite unlikely that she would think the plan could actually succeed in the first place. And who knows who Len would support in this as he is currently sleeping off his hangover in that ridiculously tiny bed and has been since before Barry stopped by the prison. Apparently cheap diner food isn't always the miracle hangover cure the internet claims it to be. Why on earth would the internet lie to you? If anything, the greasy food just made his stomach hurt more than his head did. That and being carried around by a speedster after that couldn't be helpful in the slightest. Who would have believed that?

"Come on, it's a decent plan!" Barry shouted across the room at Lisa, he really does believe that the plan he came up with will work, "you know that it'll work out!" His type of plan always works in the movies, why shouldn't it work here in reality?

Lisa rolled her eyes and raised her voice above that of the speedsters, "no, it's not a decent plan, it's a terrible plan! Did you put any sort of thought into this? You're going to get all of us arrested! Besides, what about all of those creatures that are still out there? Shouldn't we worry more about them?"

"It'll all be fine! Nothing's going to go wrong with this," Barry frowned and folded his arms. "Well, nothing should go wrong." A worried look crossed his face, the plan was a little too simple now that he thought about it. Not that he would ever admit that. "It'll all be fine! As long as we stick to the plan..."

"That's so very reassuring," Lisa snapped angrily in reply. "You're plan is awful! I don't really want to go to prison over that psycho!"

"We're not doing this for her, we're trying to get your brothers memories back!"

Lisa rolled her eyes again, if she keeps that up she could win Olympic gold. "Is that really what you're telling yourself? Dammit, you're not even going to admit it to yourself are you?"

While the two argued, the other three people in the Cortex actively ignored them and pretended to be busy. Even Mick pretended to be doing something constructive by awkwardly holding an empty beaker and an equally empty Erlenmeyer flask. But that's not what's interesting right now, so let's get back to the squabble.

Barry stood stock still, silent with confusion for the first time since he and Lisa had started their little argument. "What the hell are you even talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, you know exactly what I'm talking about!" The gold obsessed villainess snapped back angrily at the hero. "Come on then, tell everyone in here why you're doing this, it's not just so you can help recover my brothers memories is it?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Barry sounded uncomfortable, and an awkward blush was rising on his cheeks. "You're wrong about that."

"Oh am I? Did you even tell Lenny that you were planning on doing this?" Lisa sounded offended and quite irate at the idea of her brother being kept in the dark when the plan was centered around him. "Or did you just stop by the prison without him knowing?" She looked at the shocked expression on Barry's face and she laughed a little bit, sarcasm clear in her tone. "You did, didn't you? That's why you dropped him off here earlier to sleep off his hangover, you wanted to run off and make your dumb little plan with Professor Providence!"

The speedster stepped close and spoke in hushed tones. "Look, I care about Len okay? I'm not doing this out of some sense of justice, I'm doing this because he's my friend! So I'm not doing this for myself, understand?" Barry looked down at the floor, not wanting the rest of the group to listen in. "I'm doing this for him."

Lisa stared incredulously, "are you kidding me?" She whispered angrily, also not wanting everyone else to hear the change in topic. "Is that really what this is all about?" Her tone was laced with innuendo, she knew exactly why Barry was doing this, even if he refused to admit it.

"No, I don't know where you're getting these ideas, but I don't have some kind of-of ulterior motive going on here! I'm not trying to-to take advantage! I would never do that!" At least Barry didn't think he had some sort of motive aside from helping someone he might care about as more than just an enemy… alright, so when you say it like that it sounds a little bit skeevy, but he swears it isn't. Well, he's not quite sure, but he'll deny it to the bitter end! "I swear on it, cross my heart!" Then again, you're not supposed to go drinking with your enemies, or then go get diner food with them. Well then, guess you can't say that they're enemies anymore.

"Well you better not be lying to me, your plan is already stupid enough without you getting all… stupid." Lisa wrinkled her nose, "you better be telling me the damn truth about this, Flash."

"I am, don't worry!" Barry grinned awkwardly, "I'm not being a creeper towards your brother, so it's all good. Besides, that's not what we were arguing about in the first place was it?" Obviously he didn't want to talk about his odd feelings for Lisa's brother, and he might as well bring up an argument to get out of lingering on that subject. "We should argue about the plan, not your brother."

"Yeah, we were yelling about your shitty plan," Lisa said, her tone no longer angry or harsh, but still carrying an underlying threat. "Look, the plan's not actually that bad, I just want to make sure you're not doing this for another reason." Her tone had sort of an intensive you-mess-with-my-brother-I'll-mess-up-your-entire-life vibe. Lisa Snart is not someone you want to mess with if you can ever avoid it.

The speedster stood awkwardly trying to come up with something to say, only to be interrupted by a loud *thud* from down the hall and an even louder shout of "sonofafuckingbitch!" Barry zoomed down the hall to find Captain Cold lying on his back on the floor, legs tangled in his blankets. The speedster looked down at the criminal, and Len just stared back up at him, a blank expression on his face. Barry struggled to keep back a grin, he hadn't been expecting this. "Uh, are you… are you alright down there Snart?"

"Just peachy." Len just continued to lie on the floor, staring back at the hero, not even making any sort of effort to get up. He continued, tone sarcastic. "I'm doing fine, how about you?" His face was still void of all expression, he seemed a bit shocked about what had happened to him. Either that or the floor was much more comfortable than expected. Barry looked away, giggling quietly under his breath. "I'm -heh- I'm, yeah, I'm good. Hahah, yep, all good."

"You better not be laughing at me from up there Barry."

"I'm not," Barry said, desperately trying to keep a straight face as he heard footsteps down the hall and Lisa rushed into the room behind the half-grinning speedster. "Cross my heart."

"Lenny, are you alright?!" Lisa dropped down to the floor, immediately right at her brother's side. "What the hell happened?"

"Oh not much, I just fell out of the bed. Other than that I'm perfectly fine." Len continued to stare up at the ceiling, the surprise of falling finally catching up to him. "Just leave me here Lisa, it'll all be good. I'll just have to live on the floor now." He grinned a little, it was funny, not that it gave Barry any excuse for laughing though.

Barry laughed loudly at the odd scene before him. He couldn't help it, it's not something you see often. Lisa turned and glared, not seeing any sort of reason for levity. "I'm so sorry, haha, it's just so, hehe, it's just so funny!" The speedster giggled throughout his half-assed apology, ruining any semblance of actually being sorry.

"This is not funny!" Lisa frowned angrily, "you stop laughing right now!"

"Hahaha , I'm sorry!" Barry slapped a hand over his mouth, stifling his laughter.

Captain Cold stared up at Barry, grin wide on his face, "you keep on laughing up there and I'll make sure you never laugh at anything again!" His tone was teasing, but not obviously so. Just teasing enough that you would have to be looking for it to notice.

"Sorry," Barry giggled, "it won't happen again!" He frowned a little, then continued, rambling, words rushing and tumbling over themselves, reaching levels close to superspeed. "Well, I can't actually promise that, but I'll try. I swear, I'll try really hard not to laugh at you butitsjustreallyfunnyandIcantpromiseanythingtoyourightnowSnart!"

"Wait, I didn't quite catch that, what was that last bit?" Len pushed himself up into a seated position and leaned against the side of the bed. "I'm serious, how did you talk so fast?"

"Super Speed," Barry said, reining back his powers. "One of the many perks."

Lisa turned back to Barry, her eyes narrowed and she stood carefully. It was obvious her brother was fine, but after everything that had happened the past week she didn't want to take any chances. "Barry, I'm going to need to talk to you in the hallway please?" She stepped out of the room and waited to be joined by the speedster.

"Ooh, you're in trouble," Len snarked, a wide grin spread across his face. "And when she's done with you, you can come back in here. I have something to say to you too."

*Providence Waits*

The room the therapist has been assigned is small, sparsely furnished. White paint still fresh enough to smell acidic and metallic. The only furniture is a small table and two chairs, the furniture is bolted to the floor. Wise decision. One of the chairs is occupied, and Candice walks across the room and seats herself across from her mandated therapist. Whoever this Gregory Salinger is, he looks…surprisingly average, but more of the Hollywood average. Bright blond hair, closely cropped, blue eyes. Caucasian, definitely an American, about six foot, maybe 197 to 200 pounds. Most definitely not a metahuman, no powers at all that she can identify. Lots of muscle, though, so at least he has that going for him. He doesn't look like the usual therapist type. He looks like he belongs in the Army, or working as some sort of security guard. Or maybe a mercenary. Boring. Candice grinned widely across the small table between them. The smile was gruesome to witness, showing far too many teeth and too much gum. The therapist just smiled knowingly in return, somehow not unnerved by the psychotic woman before him.

"So tell me, Candice, may I call you Candice?" He smiled serenely once more, not waiting for an answer, "so Candice, I'm not going to try and find out about your childhood, or your relationship with your mother and father. That would just be unnecessary and foolish. I'm going to start with the basics here, no bullshit." Salinger adjusted his notepad and pen, ready to write whatever he thought necessary. "Now then Candice, I've read through some of your history with therapy, a very intriguing read I might say, but I do have a few questions."

Professor Providence huffed out an indignant breath, she may have been to a few mandated therapy sessions, but she wouldn't consider it a history , nor was any of it anything important. "Well, what did you want to know about it all?" This was already boring her.

"Why was it you were you testing your theories on your coworkers?" An odd look crossed Salinger's face, this obviously wasn't something he was familiar with or comfortable discussing. "And don't tell me it's because they are all fools."

She sighed overdramatically, " but they are fools! I did it because the idiots wouldn't notice if the entire world burst into flames before their eyes! They're all just mindless drones! Empty shells waiting to be filled with my glory and power!"

"I see, I see," Salinger scribbled a quick note onto the paper. "And how is it you came to the conclusion that all people are simply, as you say, 'mindless drones?'"

"It's all pointless to try to explain! I'll put it as simply as I can: refusal to progress. The sheer idiocy. Their little rules and moral codes," she sneered. "Gah, they're all so dull, refusing to take a chance on something that could change the universe, simply because it's 'inhumane' or 'morally reprehensible, heinous and horrific.'" Her voice dripped with contempt, and hatred shone from her eyes. "The weak willed fools make me sick." The weak minded try to tear down the willful, but she will crush all opposition, her time is soon. "Why should I not try to make them better than they already are? I only desire perfection!"

Salinger scribbled down another note swiftly, for once looking worried about the mental health of the woman before him. "Well, that is… that is definitely a very strong opinion, and one that does arouse some concern."

"Really now, you don't say?" A wild grin spread across the villain's face, this was a good form of entertainment, at least from her perspective. "What else do you need to know?" Maybe terrorizing therapists might not be fun to most people, but Providence is definitely not most people. If you haven't figured it out by now, she's absolutely evil and insane.

"What exactly are your abilities? All your file said is, 'it's a weird mind control', can you perhaps be a bit more specific?"

Grinning maniacally, a glint of rage in her eye, she explained. "I place people into a mental labyrinth of my own design, showing them their worst fears, horrors beyond all explanation! Their wills are all so weak! They are no longer empty husks but become tools of my eternal glory!" Providence gestured grandly at herself. It would have been much more imposing were it not for the fact that she was wearing prison blues and shackles. "The moment they are faced with my brilliance they are slaves to my will, toys to entertain me!" Then again, the shackles might have made it more imposing if not for her height.

"Okay, very interesting, I'll just leave it how it is." The therapist cleared his throat awkwardly, and shuffled the paper in the notebook. "Now then, where exactly did you originally see yourself headed once you found out about your abilities?"

Providence glared in irritation, she had no need of a therapist. "The same as always I suppose, I wanted more than I already had." Nothing new in that aspect, she always wanted more. However, after finding herself with her ability, she had immediately sought out every possible way to increase her current status in the world.

"More of what exactly?" Salinger had a mildly concerned expression on his face, a simple downturn of the eyebrows signifying his anxiety. "What did you find yourself desiring the most?"

Providence scoffed internally, she could read this man like a blank coloring book. He had no idea what he was getting into. "Everything," she breathed. "Absolutely everything. I want it all! Knowledge. Money. Power. The entire World ." She grinned her unnerving grin once more, voice steadily rising in volume as she spoke, rising up to her feet as her rant escalated. "I want everything! I want to be a GOD, the world will kneel at my feet! The puny ants will accept me or they will perish! I am perfection and glory! I will RISE! I WILL TAKE WHAT IS MINE! I AM THE NEW ERA!" Shouting and rattling her shackles, she finished her tirade whilst standing upon the small table. Her arms raised high towards the ceiling, chest heaving with heavy breaths.

Salinger smiled calmly, no longer visibly concerned by the insanity woman standing on the table. "Well, that is certainly a very… unique perspective to have upon gaining abilities, but you are entitled to your own beliefs." He checked his watch, trying to create an excuse to get out of the room as soon as possible. He's dealt with some extreme people, and dealt with some complete insanity, but this was just too much. "Well then, will you look at the time? Looks like we'll have to pick this back up next week!"

"Really now, time's up? Oh no, what a shame!" Providence briskly stepped down from the table and stood by the door of the office. "See you next week doc!" She rapped loudly on the white painted door, the sound echoing off the metal and through the small room. "Guard, take me back to my cell! We're done in here!"

*Providence Waits*

"What is this about?" Barry sounded a little confused, he knew what this was about, but he didn't know why Lisa needed to talk about this now.

"So you really are doing this just for him?" Lisa spoke in hushed tones, not wanting Len to hear them talking about him. "I'm glad that you're trying to help, I just don't want you to get his hopes up if this doesn't work out."

Barry crossed his arms and dropped his gaze to the floor, "I…" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing up the already rumpled brunette wave. "Look, I was wrong about why I was doing this, I thought it was just to help Len, but I just… I just don't know anymore." Whenever the hero thought of the criminal he felt this warm pressure in his chest, constricting like a vice. And he felt the stone of anxiety settle in his stomach, he was willing to admit it, he was nervous around him, scared to make mistakes. "I don't expect anything to happen because of this, but I don't know if I can keep pretending I don't feel anything."

Lisa stared, a knowing look on her face. "You're just now admitting this?" She smiled softly, she knew what this was all about. But she had to pretend she didn't approve, it's just a family thing. "You kept denying it earlier, but you're finally admitting it now?"

"Wait, what are you even talking about?"

"You idiot, even I can see how you look at Lenny, even if he can't." Lisa shook her head, "and the way that he looks back at you… Seriously though, are the two of you both blind?"

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Barry felt the stone of anxiety in the pit of his stomach dissolve into butterflies. Now he was anxious, but for an entirely different reason. "You're not messing with me, are you?"

"Why would I lie about this? I never said anything before now, but I really should have." Lisa smiled softly, before turning serious. "I'm glad you're finally figuring this out, but I'm only going to warn you once. You ever hurt him and I will kill you slowly and painfully." She smiled brightly once more, "now go talk to him you moron." Lisa shoved Barry back towards the door, and she turned back towards the Cortex. She had her own conversation to have with a certain medical doctor who had been there for her throughout the entire stressed filled week.

Back in the small room, Barry crossed the threshold slowly, his heart beating fast, well, faster than usual. Captain Cold had finally removed himself from the floor, and was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands on his knees. The older man was staring down at his hands, an odd expression on his face. Furrowed eyebrows and slightly downturned lips, he looked to be processing something he had heard or had thought of. Barry approached the bed slowly and sat to the right of the criminal, his left shoulder barely brushing the other man's right. The two of them sat in a calm silence, and minutes passed only interrupted by quiet breathing until Len spoke, voice barely louder than a whisper.

"I've been trying to find the right way to say this, but it's not something I'm used to saying." The quietness of his voice only amplified the importance of his words, and Len subconsciously leaned in a little closer to the speedster sitting next to him, "I wanted to say…" he paused and forced himself to continue. "I wanted to say 'thank you' for everything you've done for me the past week." Len turned to face the hero, not caring about the intimacy of the conversation, and still awkwardly avoiding eye contact. "This isn't something I say with sincerity very often, and it's just not something I'm used to saying. If you ever need anything Barry, I'm in your debt. I'll pay you back for this, swear on it." Len stared back at the floor, working up the courage to actually say the necessary words.

Barry smiled and softly placed his hand on Len's left shoulder, his arm resting on the criminals back. "Hey, you don't have to thank me, alright? I get it, Len. You don't owe me anything for this, and you don't ever have to pay me back."

"When did you start calling me Len?" Captain Cold looked oddly at the hero, a small smile on his face and a deep blush rising on the criminal's cheeks. "I don't mind, I just…hmm, I'll just say I appreciate not being called by my last name all the time." The nearness, the physical contact, the closeness and intimacy of the conversation and hearing his real name fall from the speedster's lips instead of just being called 'Captain Cold' or 'Snart.' It was so much more than he was prepared to handle. Usually he could distance himself from any situation, but the heat of the arm against his back kept him grounded and close to the moment.

"Well, you asked me to when you were…" Barry trailed off in the middle of his sentence, uncomfortable talking about what had happened in that small room when he had rescued Len. "The important thing is that it's something you asked me to do." The speedster lightly squeezed the criminals shoulder, a small sign of his feelings for the other man. And if it helped him pull Len just a little bit closer to him, well, that's just another upside to the action.

"Thanks Barry," Len unintentionally leaned into the contact, seeking the comfort given off from the hero's warmth. "I really mean it, thank you for everything. You've done so much to help me and I…" his sentence trailed off and Len stared back down at his hands, his cheeks were blushed bright red and a small smile was on his lips.

The hero felt a matching blush heat up on his cheekbones, "I get it, you don't have to thank me Len."

Len set a hand timidly on Barry's knee, he thought he was reading the situation right, but he wasn't sure until Barry squeezed his shoulder gently. "...I really do owe you for this Barry..."

Barry only smiled softly in return, this was… it was something good. This feeling, the feeling of familiarity, of such intimacy, it was good. And maybe it wouldn't be today, but maybe one day they could both move past the events of this past week and talk about what would come next for the two them. But for now it's as good a start as any, and it's something Barry could maybe find himself being comfortable with.

The two of them sat comfortably in the stillness and the silence of the small room, the hero's hand still settled on the criminal's shoulder, arm draped over his back. Shoulders pressed together, sharing closeness and warmth. This thing between them, this feeling… it was something new, something fresh and young. Something that could flourish, and it could be beautiful.