Barry knew he should not sulk. Len did care for him and desire him, he could see it in his eyes even if not for the added passion he felt through their connection. But magic was old fashioned. The pact required the power of words. Len had to say it. He had to tell Barry or come the full moon, as soon as the sun set, Barry would lose his legs and the others would come. There would be no hiding anymore.
The week passed, and Barry dared not profess his love a second time for fear of alienating Len. He had to wait for the right moment, after they fixed the chaos around them.
Axel was home and healing well, perhaps better than he would have by having Hartley beside him. Barry insisted that Len tell them the plan, at least Axel, so he would not worry, and Len did, assuring Axel that no matter how much he said the plan was crazy and too dangerous, they had everything under control. It was a good plan. Getting the detectives on board had been difficult, but in the end, they had agreed to participate as well.
Surely, if Barry helped Len succeed, then he would love him.
Len would be out of his criminal life, free, and they could pursue whatever path they wanted. Barry only wished he could help Len acquire the shop he looked at longingly whenever they passed it.
The nervous tension in Len meant he allowed Barry to help him relax more often, making love at least once a day in various combinations—Barry on top in human form, Len on top in the water, and back to how they had been together before. Barry did not have a favorite; they were all equally wonderful. Though he thought Len might prefer when Barry was inside him in the water best.
Len would love him. Len had to love him. Once the week was up, there were only ten days left.
The day of the meeting, Len was calmer than he had been all week. He had to be to see this through, and Barry projected as much calm as he could through their connection to keep it that way.
The other club was not very different from the one Barry was familiar with. Open, dim, and mostly empty when they arrived, save Rosa, who had beaten them there, along with a single bouncer who opened the club for them and then left.
"Jesse's cutting it close," Rosa said, eyeing them distrustfully.
"I'd focus on Santini," Len said.
Jesse would not be coming, but Len did not want her to know that.
A few tense minutes later, Frank Santini arrived with minimal muscle to protect him as requested, two men only, though they looked well armed, and Len had told Barry there would likely be more goons outside. Santini might suspect an ambush, so they had to be ready for one too.
"You understand if I want my men to pat you down considering we're on your turf?" Frank said, the younger brother to Vincent. He might as well have been a clone of his sibling, he seemed so immediately cruel and uncaring. He was likely grateful to have his brother gone, Len had said, leaving him to power, but he would still want retribution.
This part of the human world truly was like Barry's kin.
"Go wild, Frank," Len said, "we're just here to talk, but then you'll understand if we ask you and your men to set aside your weapons after?"
"Depends on what we find."
Barry did not want these men to touch him, but he had promised to follow Len's lead and was prepared for this. The wire Len had asked him to wear was uncomfortable beneath his clothes. Len wore one as well. But as the goons left Frank to check them, starting with Len and Barry before one moved on to Rosa, Barry hummed ever so subtly beneath his breath.
You find nothing, he willed with a gentle nudge.
The man before him blinked dazedly, but there was a hungry way he eyed Barry before he said, "Pretty Boy's clean."
"Snart too," the other said.
Barry was glad when they moved away.
From Rosa they found a gun. Barry had not used his powers to help her, but she was smart. Being armed alone was not betrayal. Frank and his men set their guns with Rosa's on a nearby pool table.
"What a good sport you are, Snart, Miss Dillon," he shifted his eyes to Barry, "others. But Jesse owes me the courtesy of being here too."
"He sends his apologies," Len said. "Axel isn't doing so well after that accident last week and Jesse was called away. I speak for his territory with full authority."
"What?" Rosa spat sharply.
"No longer part of the inner circle, Rosalind?" Frank said, but everyone was on higher alert now. The goons could easily have hidden weapons since they had not been patted down in turn.
Barry wanted to sing again now, but Len had warned him that they must be patient to get everything they needed for the detectives.
"Let's sit," Len gestured toward a circle of chairs, "and we can discuss where this relationship went sour."
"I believe it was your Robin Hooding," Frank said, though neither Len nor Barry flinched, for Len would not be held accountable for anything he was accused of tonight since the detectives had offered him immunity. "You know, I had men scour this place before the meeting. They didn't find anything."
"Why would they?" Len said. "I'm no coward who'd plant a bomb. And I certainly wouldn't want to blow myself up."
Frank looked curious enough to listen, but Rosa was trapped. She could not make a run for it much as she seemed to want to.
Still, it was Frank who said, "Why don't we send the muscle into the back? We can discuss this just us three."
Barry started. They had not planned for that. He could handle two on one with ease, but if he left Len alone and Rosa double-crossed them again…
Len did not allow any panic to show on his face. He looked at Barry squarely and nodded toward the back as if dismissing nothing more than the bodyguard he pretended to be.
Barry had to obey, they could not risk spooking Frank early, but he would listen carefully for the moment when Len gave the cue to sing.
Leaving the others to take seats in the chairs, Barry led the two goons into the back rooms. There was a lounge of sorts for the waitresses, dancers, and bouncers that Barry turned to instead of the office, but he still kept his senses attuned to how close the goons were at his back. He did not like the way the one who patted him down had looked at him—and continued to look at him.
"You really the one who took out so many of our guys? With a face and body like that? More like a night's entertainment than a bruiser. You cover both bases for Snart, sweetheart?"
Barry wanted to believe the comments were merely to rile him, but this man meant his lewd comments. "It is not your concern what I am to Len. Our orders were to give the others space. That does not mean I wish to converse with you." He glanced over his shoulder, and made sure to frown toward the way they had come from, instinctually prompting the men to turn around and look.
Quickly, Barry spun forward and pulsed his powers into the space behind the club, checking for signs of backup as Len feared.
"Trying to throw us off, Princess? Don't worry, talking's the last thing I want to do with you," the man said just as Barry felt the resonance of his powers return a picture of a man outside the back door!
He spun with his arm outstretched, hoping to catch one or both of the goons off guard, but a hand caught his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. No matter, Barry could easily overpower him and—
A sharp pain pricked his neck and something burned into his veins.
"Like lull you to sleep, pretty thing, so you put up less of a fight."
They had poisoned him. He could feel an instant sluggishness overtake his body.
"Will you stop chatting, for chrissake?" the other goon said. "All we need is him out of commission to take down Snart."
Len.
Barry pushed past the spots blinking in front of his eyes and how everything was blurry and spinning. He could not pass out. He could not leave Len to whatever fate they had planned for him.
"You guys already taking out the bruiser?" another man said—the one from outside. "Why ain't ya just killing him?"
"Boss wants to see if he can be bought into playing for our side after Snart's gone."
"Never…" Barry gasped, limbs no longer listening to him, though he managed to stay conscious as he was flipped around and pressed against a table, the needle pulling away but the nausea very much present.
"Not ready for your nap yet, Sleeping Beauty?" the first goon held Barry to the table with one hand, the other daring to stroke his face and down his neck as he crowded obscenely close to Barry's body.
Barry wanted to tear something to pieces at the fury that built in him.
Him. Them. All of them.
"Still raring to go, huh?" the man held Barry tight as he struggled against him and willed his body to heal the poison faster. The man was half-hard against Barry's thigh and pressing in closer. "All the better in my opinion. Maybe we can have some fun before we have to kill you."
"Shit, Jake, you thinking with your dick now?"
"What harm'll it do? All Santini said was make sure Pretty can't come to Snart's rescue." His hand drifted lower down Barry's body.
"You will n-not touch me," Barry rasped. "N-No one…is allowed to t-touch me but Len."
"Knew you were screwing him," the man breathed hot and unwelcome in Barry's face.
Red flashed before Barry's eyes as his fury grew, his claws lengthening even before he reached out to grip the man's wrist and pry his hand away before it touched him, just barely able to hold him back but feeling his strength return as he burned through whatever they had poisoned him with.
"You will regret it if you do not desist," he warned.
"What's with his hands?"
Barry had too few days left. Losing his grip on his form would make it harder and harder to change back, but Jake did not seem to notice or care about his fellows' comments.
He leaned forward and hissed, "I'm gonna have you, whore, fight or not, and enjoy every minute of it."
Barry slammed his head into the man's face, barely feeling the thunk of contact before he gripped the wrist in his grasp tighter and twisted with the full force of his claws like popping off the lid to a jar—for the hand to fall to the floor.
Before the man could scream, Barry grabbed his neck, jaggedly clawing at it, and yanked him forward to ram their foreheads together once, twice more, then released him to leave an unconscious heap on the floor.
"The fuck!" one of the others sputtered, but all Barry saw was prey.
He hissed as his fangs extended, eyes sharpening as they darkened to their true color, scales freckling across his cheekbones and down his neck, but his legs remained strong and stable to carry him across the room where the remaining men backpedaled to escape him.
"What—!" one tried but was cut short by Barry slicing his throat and ramming a knee up into his stomach. He was lucky Barry had not punctured more deeply, but still he coughed and gasped as he bled onto the floor where he fell.
The final man, the one who had come in from outside, was mute and trembling, too terrified by what he saw of Barry to do anything but flounder.
"Only Len is allowed to touch me," Barry growled with an inhuman resonance as both hands, deep red and further spattered with blood on his claws, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him closer.
"Please…" the man said, soiling himself, Barry could smell it, but it was the other voices drifting in from the main room that stopped him from sinking his teeth into the man's throat and taking a bite.
"Liar!" Rosa screamed. "I didn't kill Vinny, it was you!"
Len. He was out there alone going forward with the plan. Barry had to reel in his true form. He had to calm down.
"P-Please," the man said again, while Rosa kept shouting, and Len spoke calmly but loudly back at her, while Frank said nothing, which meant he was not sure what to believe.
Barry had to do his part. He had to act. Now.
Glancing back at the men on the floor, one missing a hand, so much more brutal than broken arms, Barry felt the nausea of what they had injected him with surge up in his throat at how easily he had fallen to his nature and what his kin were capable of.
So he opened his mouth and sang because it was something he could use his powers for that was not monstrous. It was supposed to be soft and subtle like his humming, but he was too far away from Len now and had to project as far as possible.
Tell the truth, he sent through the song.
The men on the floor were out, but the one at the end of Barry's claws fell to the song with startling clarity. "I killed my cousin, took out teenagers before, dozens of 'em, beat my girl within an inch of her life once. Am I dead? Coz I'd rather be skinned alive than face whatever Hell you crawled out of."
Barry threw the man into the wall, head slamming hard to knock him out with the others. That was hardly a truth that surprised him because he still had his claws, his fangs. He could not let Len see him like this. With every ounce of will power left in him, he willed his body to be human. He had to be human.
Before it was too late.
XXXXX
Len had known the moment he heard Barry sing to cover his ears. Rosa and Santini weren't as lucky. They turned at the mournful sound, craning to hear better, until their eyes turned glassy.
"I shot him," Rosa said. Then, more passionately, "I shot Vinny. And so what if I did?" She spun toward Frank, already on her feet. "You planted that bomb! You could have killed me!"
"I should have been targeting you!" Frank jumped up. "I planted that bomb to get back at Jesse for killing my brother! I blamed him and Snart, and it was you?!"
"You hated your brother!"
"That doesn't mean anyone else gets to kill him! I did all the dirty work for years. I was the one setting up the drug drops and gun trafficking at the docks. I planned everything around taking these streets from Jesse. We were going to slaughter all of them piece by piece, and Vinny did nothing, just sat back and reaped the rewards."
Wow. Len hadn't expected this much. Rosa for killing Vincent, one of them for the bomb, hopefully something on Frank if he hadn't set it, but Palmer was getting fed everything the CCPD needed to clean out the Santini family completely, and Rosa only incriminated herself.
Jesse would be safe, which meant Axel would be safe, and Len could finally be free of this.
Speaking of, once Rosa and Santini stopped screaming and remembered the guns not far away, Len bolted. He didn't want to get caught in the crossfire or for either of them to remember he was there.
"Now would be a good time to raid the place," he hissed at his mic, rushing for the back, grateful that Barry had come to his rescue but worried that he hadn't appeared yet.
The office door was still closed. The lounge? He reached to push open the door—
But Barry pushed out first, looking flushed and sweaty and haggard like Len had never seen before.
"Hey. Are you okay?" He reached for Barry's face, only to notice the ugly needle mark in his neck.
"They tried to p-poison me, but I will be all right. Are you okay?"
Gunshots rang out, and Len instinctively pulled Barry to him, ready to rush into the lounge for cover, but an announcement of police followed and the rush of boots, so he held steady.
"Palmer, Rory, we're in the back. Santini's men are…" Len peered around Barry into the lounge where the door still swung, revealing in small increments the bodies on the floor.
"Alive, but no longer a threat," Barry said.
Len wondered what Rory had heard listening to Barry's wire compared to Palmer, but Barry said nothing more. He was winded yet obviously healing. By the time the police swarmed them, both their hands raised to play it safe, the mark on Barry's neck was nearly gone and his eyes were clear.
Whatever Rory had heard, he didn't betray a word of it when he and Palmer cut through the uniformed officers to reach them. They had entered from the back, so they'd seen whatever carnage Barry left behind, and Barry would not meet Rory's eyes.
"Something wrong, detectives?" Len tried to play it cool. "You got what you wanted."
"One of them was missing a hand," Palmer said, looking green.
"What?"
"I told him only you were allowed to touch me," Barry said quietly, "but he would not listen."
If the way Barry said that meant the goon tried to touch him more than roughing him up, he got what he deserved, but Len didn't want to imagine how Barry removed a hand. "Hear that? Sounds like self-defense to me."
"Sure was," Rory said, calmer than usual as if finally appeased. "I don't know who this guy is to you, Snart, but I'm glad he's on your side."
Barry glanced up with unsure eyes, but he and Rory shared a look of understanding.
The goon without a hand was still unconscious, as well as another being taken by ambulance, but a third, one Len hadn't seen so he must have come in later, was led from the back through the club to the waiting police outside. When he passed Barry, his eyes went wide and he scrambled to get closer to the officer holding him.
"I'm telling you, man, he's not human."
"Tell it to your cellmates, Russo."
There would be stories about Barry and what happened here, regardless of who believed what. No one would believe tales of inhuman creatures though.
Rosa and Santini were broken from their siren trance, but they still spat insults at each other as they were questioned across the room, soon to be led away as well. All that remained was to talk to Jesse.
"We might need more of a statement down at the station later," Palmer said.
"And you better stay outta trouble, Lenny," Rory added, "coz don't think for a second I believe you didn't have more of a hand in all this, even if they never mentioned your name. Still not sure why they grew such loose tongues like that. Better not find anything in their systems that'll compromise this bust."
"You won't," Len said. "They'll come out clean. Maybe their consciences finally caught up to them. We free to go?"
"Yeah, get outta here. But I mean it. Stay outta trouble, you got me?" He said the last with a touch of softness he hadn't used in years.
Len couldn't express how much it meant to him, meager as it was, and he hoped he never let Rory down again, hoped Jesse let him out of the life, and that somehow, he found another way.
With Barry beside him.
XXXXX
Barry still seemed timid, slowed by whatever they dosed him with, but Len couldn't immediately tend to him. It was too dangerous to go straight to Jesse, someone could be following if there were Santini loyalists—or if there were opportunistic cops about—so he texted Axel that all was well and they could plan for a time to meet Jesse tomorrow.
Then he had to call Sara.
"Hey, Lance. Before any cops come calling, I wanted you to know what happened today."
After hearing the story, Sara chided him for doing something so rash and dangerous, but still she said, "I'm proud of you, Leonard. Now we just need those pay stubs."
"One milestone at a time, huh?" Len chuckled. "I'm working on it."
Phone calls and text messages done with, Len wanted only to talk to Barry and understand what had happened while they were separated, so as soon as they entered the apartment, he caught Barry by the wrist.
"Do you need anything? What did that guy do to you anyway? The one who can't use a full pair of gloves from now on?"
Barry ducked his head with the hint of a smile to appease Len at his joke. "I need only water and I will be fine. A drink will do." He avoided the other questions by escaping into the kitchen.
"Barry." Len followed. "Please. What did he try to do to you?"
A glass of water drained down Barry's throat before he answered. "He only tried. He did not succeed. But he looked at me like a thing to be used and assumed you looked at me the same. Then he tried to touch me. I do not like anyone to touch me without permission."
"I know the feeling. But even when we'd only just met, you made an exception for me."
"You have permission," Barry looked at him devotedly, "always, anytime. I am yours. But that does not mean I am a slave or a thing. I know you do not see it that way, but I did not like for him to assume otherwise."
"So you cut off his hand?"
"I did not mean to." Barry glanced away. "I was angry and weakened, not thinking clearly."
"I'm not saying you should have done differently, just making sure you're okay. I hope you understand now why I was hesitant to touch you back in the beginning."
"What?" Barry said with a curious flick of his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Just that…you're not supposed to help someone and then expect sexual favors in return."
"Oh…I…"
"I mean me." Len surged forward when Barry stuttered back, grabbing him by the wrist again to hold him in place. "You were inviting not pushy. I mean me helping you, letting you stay here. I didn't want to take advantage of that."
"I offered," Barry said in confusion.
"I know, but…you didn't know me. Not really. I didn't know you. Not that people never do that, I just…I prefer knowing someone before I'm with them. Which is why there haven't been many others. It's hard to get to know me."
"I know you well now." Barry looked at him with all the desire he usually did, powerful and potent. "I only wish for you to know that I am yours, and knowing you better only makes me want you more."
Len squeezed Barry's wrist while reaching with his other hand to cradle his face. "Same to you. The parts I know…and the ones you're set on hiding from me."
"I—"
"You're allowed to be dangerous. You saved me—again. You can defend yourself, defend me, and not be like the others." Len pulled Barry against him, embracing him before he could pull away.
"But what if I am like them?" Barry said like a breathless whisper. "Would you still want me if I was?"
Len knew what it felt like to believe he wasn't worth anyone caring about him, so he held Barry tighter. "I can't imagine anything you could do or be that would make me stop wanting you."
"Len, I…"
Len tensed, expecting those words again, the ones he didn't want to hear—not because he didn't feel them, crazy as that seemed in so short a time, but because he couldn't say them back. Not when his father had tainted them, drilling into his head that love was weak and dangerous and something that could get him killed, that it was something bad, and to this day, he could never shake the feeling that maybe that was true.
It wasn't. But the taint still clung, and Len couldn't say those words without feeling burdened by them. Barry deserved better than that.
He didn't say what Len expected though.
"Thank you," he said.
Len should have been relieved, but that wasn't what he felt. "You're welcome, Barry."
XXXXX
Despite the trials of the day, they made love that night, as they had each night all week, like their first time, but with Barry sitting on Len's hips, clawing at the sheets.
Clawing literally, he discovered in the morning, finding parts of the sheets normally hidden by pillows shredded. He had barely over a week left and it was showing.
He knew he had been right not to confess his love to Len that night, but when the time was right, he had to try again.
There was no fanfare when they arrived at Jesse's the next day, not a club this time, but his home, a lavish one that Barry was not sure where to look at or step, for it was quite colorful and oddly decorated. Jesse was there, a bodyguard, and Axel.
"So you didn't shoot Vinny?"
"Nope."
"Didn't shoot Frankie either, just got him and Rosa locked up and looking at hard time?"
"Yep."
"You basically, nearly single-handedly, got rid of all my competition without killing a soul?"
"Basically," Len said as though he had planned it that way from the beginning.
"You sure I can't convince you to stay, Lenny? I know you'll be around to watch out for my boy, but you're good people. Good at what you do. Good at things I didn't know you could do. And I am hurting for recruits."
"Sorry, Boss. I won't go far, but I don't want this life anymore."
Barry worried Jesse might recant, but he took one look at Axel and sighed dramatically.
"Friends?" He extended his hand to Len.
Len took it—only to jump as if he'd been shocked. "Funny," he huffed, pulling back to reveal that Jesse wore a small device on his hand that had zapped him.
Jesse and Axel both laughed like an echo of each other. Since nothing had been said against Jesse over the wires, he was safe, all the better that he had not been with them yesterday. Barry wondered about Axel sticking to a criminal's life, but then he remembered that Hartley was part of the life too, and they both seemed content with it.
"Perhaps we can get together soon," Barry said when Axel walked them to the door, a sense of finality following them like they had to make plans or they might lose touch, though there was no threat of that when Len and Axel were brothers. "I would like to spend more time with Hartley and see how your signing is progressing."
"Double date? You're on, Scarlet. I'll drag Hart over tomorrow, we can do dinner and movies or whatever."
"Deal," Len said, smiling at Barry for the suggestion, then tapping Axel's chest with a wink. "Be good. Or as good as you ever get."
"Please, Lenny, don't say it like goodbye. You're never getting rid of me."
There was a lightness that followed them like it had before that made Barry feel foolish for worrying he would lose Len or control over himself. Len would love him. Len would tell him. Another day or two and all would be well.
The next night, Axel and Hartley arrived together. Hartley seemed awkward and unsure of himself, so Barry endeavored to ease his mind and signed to him silently.
You are welcome here. If you need anything, even if just this so they do not know what we are saying, I am at your service.
Hartley shook his head but smiled. You're a strange guy, Scarlet, he signed the gesture for red, though Barry knew what he meant. But I like you.
"Secrets are lies!" Axel teased, then grinned widely as he clung to Hartley's arm. "I can't wait to know everything you say to each other."
They decided to walk to the corner store to pick up supplies to make dinner rather than order it, which Barry was excited about regardless of what they cooked. On their way back, they ran into Ralph just inside the building, pacing and looking spooked.
"Snart," Ralph rushed up to them as soon as he saw them. "I was waiting for you. I heard someone pounding on your door. I think they broke in."
"What?" Len immediately passed his bag to Axel, looking ready to storm up to the apartment.
"The boss isn't planning any double cross," Hartley assured them. "Has to be Santini stragglers. They still have loyal people."
Barry passed his bag to Hartley in kind and pushed ahead of the others.
"Wait," Len stopped him. "I want to check too, but going up there now might be just what they want. We should sneak out the back, go up the fire escape to see inside."
Barry agreed, while Axel and Hartley set the overload of bags on the floor in front of the Super's door.
"We'll come back for them," Axel said. "You don't think we'll let you do this alone?"
Despite Barry's fondness for Hartley, he was surprised the man stood firm with Axel to offer his aid as well.
"I'm coming too!" Ralph said.
"Oh no you're not," Len reared on him. "You are going straight home."
"You mean upstairs on the same floor as whoever broke into your apartment?" Ralph challenged.
"Fine." Len winced at the sensible counter. "But you stay behind us, and once we're in the alley, you stay put. You're not coming up the fire escape with us."
"Wouldn't even dream of it."
Together the five of them moved through the first floor of the apartment building to the back exit that led into the alley, Len leading despite Barry's protests as he stayed close at his side. The others being with them made things difficult, but still Barry saw the sense in using his abilities.
"Len…" he whispered, looking at him pointedly.
Len let Barry go ahead of him and caught the attention of the others, saying something about making sure they were careful, for no one to play hero, a simple pep talk long enough to avert their eyes from Barry as he pulsed his powers outside to see if anyone was there.
After nodding to Len that the way was clear, they pushed outside together, filing out slowly one by one. Barry's abilities had been right of course—there was no one in the alley—but he had not thought to look up.
There was a click, then everything happened in slow motion.
The turn of their heads to look toward the second floor where a figure stood on the fire escape waiting, maybe for someone to enter the apartment, but this was just as well for his purposes. It was the man who had led the others to Len's apartment before, the one who dropped him into the river, who Barry had not hurt as badly but who had not been present when Rosa killed Vincent or with Frank the other day.
Now, he looked down at Barry wild, at Ralph with a sneer, at Axel and Hartley in anger, but it was Len he looked at with wrath as he aimed his gun.
And shot Len in the chest.
TBC...
