Len's tongue felt as claiming and possessive as that first night in Tiffany's, all for Barry—devoted to him, in love with him, and willing to do anything to prove it.
Knowing how worthless he was, how much trouble he caused everyone he cared about, it felt so good to have somebody love Barry blindly, who knew the worst of him and still looked at him like he owned the world.
It was addictive, that feeling, the acknowledgement of unwavering emotion, just as Len's kisses and the touch of his skin had been addictive since day one. Barry wanted the weight that settled over him on the sofa, the feel of Len's hands pushing up beneath his T-shirt, the warmth of breath as Len moved from Barry's lips across his jaw and neck.
"Tell me," Barry whimpered, slipping a shaking hand under Len's shirt as well, knees falling open to beckon the man closer. "Tell me why you love me."
"Because you're beautiful," Len whispered, breathless as he lowered himself right where Barry wanted him, locking their hips together. "Your eyes—green and bronze and gold. Your skin," he licked a trail up to Barry's earlobe, "and every mole and freckle. Your legs."
Barry whimpered again because Len's hand slid from the skin of his stomach down around his inner thigh and squeezed. "Yes…tell me…" Maybe if he heard enough praises, felt them, believed them, he wouldn't see himself as so ugly.
Len's hand stayed at Barry's thigh, caressing him boldly, while the other lifted to Barry's face and held his cheek. "I love you," he said plainly, eyes shimmering navy in the dark as he dipped down once more to kiss Barry full on the lips.
Hands trapped between them, Barry could still feel his way to the clasp of Len's slacks.
"I love your power…and how you use it," Len flicked his tongue over Barry's lips, rising up slightly to accommodate his seeking hands. "I love that I can smell you coming…like a storm brewing. The way the air tingles. Your energy, your stubbornness, your laugh."
Yanking Len into another kiss, Barry pushed his hand into Len's slacks and palmed him through his underwear, impressive already at half-mast, though he hardened further as Barry traced him. This was what madness must feel like, joy and misery mixed into one without any discernable seams.
"Barry," Len said, breath hitching with a gasp, lips close and quivering. His hands moved to Barry's shirt to push it up his chest.
Lifting his arms for Len to remove it, Barry went right back to palming him, grasping for Len's neck with his other hand to lick another lewd path between his lips.
Len couldn't form sentences when this next kiss broke. "I love…I love…" he panted, grabbing for Barry's hand to guide him in just the right way in how to touch him. Then it was Barry's breath hitching because oh, he wanted this, and he loved the way Len took control.
Without even getting Barry's jeans undone, Len slid his free hand down the front of them to grip Barry in kind. Barry was so hard, maddeningly so. Bucking up into Len's grip, he wished it was skin on skin that connected them, so he asked for it.
"Touch me…touch me, please…"
All they managed for several feverish moments was over fabric groping and hot breath on each other's skin, not even able to kiss anymore, just panting and writhing. But Len soon obeyed, peeling back the elastic of Barry's underwear at the same time as he led Barry's hand beneath his own.
"I love your goodness," Len said as if he'd never faltered. "So good, Barry. And selfless. Heroic. Truly heroic and better than I could ever be…"
Numbness washed over Barry to halt his momentum and he resisted the pull of Len's hand. What was he doing? He wasn't good. Or selfless. Or heroic. Len shouldn't think any of those things.
What was he doing?
"Len," he choked out, weak from breathlessness and the tears sticky on his face, and weaker still as Len's fingers drifted between his legs. God, Barry wished he could let Len touch him. "Len."
But the other man's descent stopped on its own in an overlap of Barry's words. "I can't," he said, pulling his hands free.
"What?" Barry blinked confusion because…he'd been the one about to stop this.
"I can't," Len said again, head shaking, whole body shaking as he sat back on his ankles between Barry's parted knees and dragged a hand over the buzz of his hair. "You don't mean this. Something happened. You're upset. If we're together like this, you'll regret it. I don't want you to ever regret being with me, Barry. I love you too much. I love you so much…" Something wounded revealed itself in the way he said that, like he wanted to kiss Barry so badly it stung, but he still backed off the couch instead to get to his feet.
Len was hypnotized into thinking Barry hung the moon and wanted nothing more than to be with him, yet he had more self-control than Barry did, because his curse was love not selfish escapism—to love Barry, who wasn't worthy of anything good.
"I'm sorry," Barry said, scrambling to get up while Len stood off the side of the sofa, breathing in deeply to calm down. "I-I'm sorry…they made you love me."
"Barry, wait—"
Flashing from the main room into the bathroom, Barry collapsed to his knees and clutched the toilet. The tears were building again, but bile was building faster. With a heave, he purged what little he'd eaten that day.
He'd fought so hard to be what Len believed of him, but not even his best efforts were good enough. They never were. He was a curse. He was the bad guy. And the only reason Len couldn't see that was because he'd been brainwashed.
Sobbing and spitting and quaking in the aftermath, Barry didn't realize he'd left the door open until he heard a knock.
"Please…" he shook his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and flushing to erase the evidence, "please leave me alone."
Gentle steps signaled Len's approach. "Kinda hard to do that with this yo-yo between us."
A fresh sob choked out of Barry and he pulled his knees to his chest.
"Barry, come here. Get off the floor." Len came closer and Barry zipped to his feet, ready to flash around him out of the room if he had to. He didn't care how childish it was. If he could have left the safe house entirely without hurting Len, he would have started running and not stopped until the pain did.
"I'm off the floor," he said, unable to look at Len directly or face what he'd almost let happen. "Now leave me alone."
"I can't do that."
Zeroing in on Len with a snarl, Barry was ready to rail back at him amid his tangled, tortured emotions, but looking at Len meant finally seeing the sympathy and affection in his eyes that Barry had only known this past week. All raw and open and…fake?
"Barry, it's okay," Len said, voice low as he reached for Barry.
"No." But Barry was too exhausted from crying to prevent Len from wrapping him up and holding him. The comfort of those arms felt like an exhale Barry needed to take, and he sank there greedily.
"It's okay."
"It's not."
"You were going to stop me yourself, that's why you started to pull away."
"Not soon enough."
"Barry," Len huffed a short laugh, "let me forgive you. It's okay. Everything I said is still true."
"But it shouldn't be," Barry shook his head even as he squeezed Len tighter and pressed his face to his neck. "I believe you love me, Len, but only because you can't help it. Even if you felt this way before, you won't after this. Not when it's all over."
A sigh escaped Len like he was as tired as Barry—tired of fighting. "Scarlet…stop playing martyr when you don't need to. If one of us is despicable, it isn't you."
They were going in circles again, having chased each other all week like some parody of their encounters as hero and nemesis. But the reservations Barry held had staying power he couldn't let go. "You're not despicable. You're trying. I'm just a mess. Why would you ever love me for real?"
"Because you're good, Barry," Len said, which made Barry flinch at the absurdity. "You are, and I'd be lucky to have you. You don't want to believe the rest, fine. Believe that. But I do love you. I love every part of you. Even the parts you don't think are worth it."
Tears filled Barry's eyes again, making his face so chapped and raw, he'd look a mess tomorrow if he didn't have a healing factor. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry. It's just so hard to hear you say things I can't believe right now. About me…about how you feel about me. But I'm glad you're here," he gripped Len's shirt to keep him in his orbit, "even if it is selfish."
Wrapping his arms around Barry tighter, Len held him solidly. "I don't care if it's selfish either. I've never had anything like this, Barry, and I…I like the way it feels."
Hesitant laughter escaped Barry as he nuzzled his head into Len's chest. "You mean a hug?"
"Yes," Len chuckled back. "Someone I can hold…and touch…and have touch me without feeling a twist in my gut. With Lisa and Mick, it's easier, but I still pull away. What Bivolo did to me makes this brand new. I've never felt so light. I like this feeling and I'm glad it's with you, even if it doesn't last beyond tomorrow."
Knowing how true that was, how Len didn't try anymore to deny what they couldn't be certain of, just made the tears surge up faster, but in the end Barry didn't have any moisture left to spill.
"Come on, kid. Let's go to bed early tonight. We'll sleep this off and do our jobs tomorrow. Life will move on. It won't be the end of the world. I can promise you one thing without any doubts. When this is over, I won't be your enemy."
"You haven't been my enemy for a long time, Len."
The problem was—the miracle was—Barry wanted to be so much more than strange friends. And he honestly didn't need the sweet, devoted version of Len that spouted 'I love yous' at every opportunity. The teasing, sometimes frustrating Captain Cold who straddled the line between hero and scoundrel, he was more than enough. Though a little sweetness, Barry could admit, would be nice, if Len could offer that…and still wanted to.
Untangling to go about their usual routines before bed, by the time Barry left the bathroom, his face showed no signs of how much he'd cried.
The bedroom was smaller in the safe house than in Len's apartment, but it wasn't without its charm. Perhaps the sweetest thing was something that had nothing to do with Barry, and that gave him hope that an affectionate Len wasn't impossible, just difficult to nurture.
Set in a brand-new frame, Len's mother's photograph rested on the nightstand.
"She died when I was young. Long before Lisa was born," Len said without prompting as they settled into bed, confirming what Barry already assumed, that Len and Lisa didn't share the same mother.
"Another terrible thing we have in common, huh?"
"There are a few good things we have in common."
"Such as?"
"A love of bad puns?"
"Nope," Barry smiled, which shouldn't have come to him so easily, but then…Len had a way of making him smile in the darkest of times. "Pretty sure that's still terrible."
"Don't be so quick to judge, Flash. I consider it a point of pride being cool under pressure."
"Oh god," Barry groaned, "you are such a dork!" Giggling in the dark, he couldn't resist casting his companion a sly glance. "Time to put your skills on ice, Cold."
A carefree laugh responded. "And you wonder why I love you," Len said, not carrying any secondary meaning or trying to wound Barry with the statement, but while it carried a mild sting anyway, it made it easy to curl closer to Len.
Tucking his head beneath Len's chin, Barry was hesitant to voice what he really wanted, but the words slipped out of him anyway. "Do you think, if you still want me when this is over…that it could be like this?"
"I hope so," Len said.
Barry did too. Even if he didn't deserve it. Even if he was broken. Maybe they could fill in a few cracks for each other.
"Goodnight, Len."
"Goodnight, Barry."
The next day came without fanfare. Barry showered and dressed, and together he and Len headed to STAR Labs to prepare for the mob meet-up that evening.
Everyone came and went throughout the morning and afternoon—everyone, which included Iris and Wally, who wanted to help as much as he was allowed. He'd seen the news and read the papers too; he couldn't be kept in the dark forever, not when he shared the same detective genes as Joe and Iris.
He was also a budding engineer and too smart for his own good. Cisco had been working on extra trackers for the team to put in their comms, which prompted an idea from Wally for perimeter sensors.
"Like an invisible fence, ya know? With enough markers, we could track when anyone tries to leave the meet-up area."
"Can't risk setting up anything ahead of time or the families could get nervous and change location," Len said.
"But," Cisco waved a Twizzlers he'd been eating Len's direction, "if they were portable, Ray could fly them around the perimeter after everyone's inside. I like it." He nodded and pointed the Twizzlers toward Wally. "I got just the thing for sensors too, if you wanna help me with the programming?"
"You're on," Wally grinned, rubbing his hands together at the chance to be part of Team Flash for real. "And, ya know, if you need anyone extra on the streets to watch the blind spots, I could easily be another body."
Lucky for Wally, Joe wasn't around to hear that or he would have had an aneurism at the suggestion. Barry exchanged an exasperated look with Iris, and they both turned to Wally to give him the usual lecture at the same time.
Only for Len to beat them to it. "Another body is exactly what you'll be—riddled with bullets on the pavement, kid. Watch and learn. Train. Make sure you can at least take out a mugger with a knife and a gun before you try taking on seasoned hitmen with semis. Then we'll talk."
Wally sputtered at the concise rebuttal but latched onto a particular word Len had used. "Kid? You know I'm not some teenager, right?"
"You old enough to drink?"
"Well…"
"Then it's gonna be 'kid', junior, for a good long while. Learn to love it."
Barry and Iris both snickered at how quickly Wally deflated. "He calls me 'kid' too," Barry tried to comfort him.
"Also well earned," Len said. "Just don't call me 'sugar daddy'."
A snort escaped Barry between laughter and disbelief. "You'd have to pay for more than meals first. And what would be better than that, huh? Gramps? Sir?"
"I'm sure I could think of a few names I'd like to hear you call me…" Len flirted easily, because even after last night, neither of them could fully give up the hope of what could be when all of this was over.
"Wow, I really need you two to stop," Cisco said, shooing Len and Barry apart.
"Wait, was that whole thing about you two dating all this past year true?" Wally asked, referencing Len's joke back when Barry was first packing to move into Len's apartment.
"More a recent development," Cisco picked up the explanation. "We'll explain the parts you don't know yet later, Wally. Come on. You too, Cold. You got engineering chops, don't pretend you don't. Faster we get something like this done with the sensors, faster we can move onto the next failsafe for this crazy mission." Heading out of the Cortex with Wally following, he clearly expected Len to do the same.
Len contemplated the idea as he stole one of the Twizzlers from the bag on Cisco's desk. "I really shouldn't humor him. There'll be no living with the kid if he thinks he can always order me around like this." He winked, taking a teasing bite out of the end of the Twizzlers before following Cisco anyway.
It was so…endearing. So fun, really, the way they all worked together so well. Team Flash, the Legends, and the Rogues, intertwined in their tasks. Barry was musing over how impossible it should be, unaware of the dopey smile he wore as he followed the trail of Len's strides out of the Cortex until the progression of his gaze landed on Iris.
"What?"
"You love him," she said succinctly.
"What?! I—"
"Barry Allen, I know the difference between how you look at someone you should love—like Felicity or Patty. Even Linda was pretty hot." She tilted her head as she no doubt conjured an image of the woman.
"Super hot." Barry conjured one too.
"But," Iris snapped back and gestured between Barry and the direction Len had gone, "you never looked at any of them like that."
"I'm not some Disney princess," Barry defended. "It's been a week."
"If you were a Disney princess, you would have been in love after a day. And it hasn't been a week, Barry. You've known Snart for longer than that. It's different when you've known someone for a while and your perception…shifts," she said more gently, which he wasn't sure if he should take as meaning him or just a general statement. But she didn't look resentful as she said it, just patient and supportive trying to get him to admit something she already knew to be true.
He wasn't sure if he could say he loved Len, but the emotions he felt for him were almost crushing. "It's crazy, right? What if I only like the parts of him that worship me?"
"Barry, do you really think that?"
"No. I hate when he's like that. The times I have the most fun, when I really feel close to him, is when he's just being the Snart I remember, who drives me crazy, but playing to the good guy's side, ya know? Though he's pretty fun playing a little bad too. As long as no one gets hurt!" he blurted.
"Barry Allen," Iris said again, saying so much more than his name in the tease of her tone.
Barry had to snicker, but then looked at her seriously. "There is no way you think this is okay."
"Well…he's not Becky Cooper," she said in a mockery of the way Barry had once mocked how she'd always said his old girlfriend's name. "Plus, I see the way he looks back at you, and I think your worlds fit insanely well together somehow."
They really did, just like the teams as a whole, but that didn't change that a shadow lingered over them. "He might not mean it."
"Barry," Iris reached for his arm, squeezing it in support, "I've seen the way he looks at you from a lot longer ago than just this past week. I don't think I realized what it was then, but now…I have to wonder. Wait. Be patient. But don't write this off. When I was pushing you toward Felicity a million years ago, this was the expression I kept waiting to see on your face and never did. I'm happy if you're happy."
What made Iris so amazing was that she meant that. She was such a better person than Barry could ever be. "Sometimes I feel like this is all my fault," he confessed, maybe because they were alone and it was Iris standing in front of him.
"You mean Alexa?"
"I mean everything. Everything. From the very beginning and everyone we've lost."
She squeezed his arm tighter. "None of the people we've lost would blame you for what happened to them. You made choices. So did they. So did The Reverse Flash and Zoom. So did Snart. It isn't about the past, Barry, it's about now. Today. Each moment as they come. As someone with the ability to travel through time, I get why you sometimes forget that," she smiled at him so beautifully. "I can't promise you that what's happening now will turn out okay, but I can promise that everyone working to end this is doing their best just like you. That's enough. That has to be enough."
Another squeeze, a tug at her smile, and she let go. She was always saving Barry from himself, which was maybe his real nemesis.
"Thank you," he said.
When Iris walked away, Barry remembered why he'd loved her for so long, why he still did, and it surprised him that no pang of regret sifted in for the choices they'd made. They were good friends and it was okay if that was all they ever were.
Diving back into the projects and work to be done before evening fell, Barry wished he could scout the area surrounding the meet-up, but he worried about traps that might have been placed there, and about leaving Len behind for even a few minutes when there was risk of him not returning in time. Blueprints, city surveillance, and satellite footage had to be enough, though the one set of blueprints they couldn't get a hold of was for the actual building the meeting was being held in.
Since Barry couldn't run, he helped man the comms in the Cortex and compiled the profiles of the family representatives. Each family was sending one main proxy and two grunts for protection. Alexa would likely be bringing Bivolo, MacReady, and Goldman. It was doubtful the families would have much intel on her going in, which put them at a disadvantage. Barry and the team were at a disadvantage too, because while they knew all the players, they still hadn't been able to decipher what Alexa hoped to get out of this meeting. All they could do was plan for every possibility that came to mind.
It was while Barry was alone in the Cortex, memorizing details about the participating representatives, that Sara called in over the comms.
"Alexa spotted on Columbus Avenue. I'm in pursuit."
Barry zipped to his feet with a brief pause for breath, then flashed over to the microphone. "For real?" he called back to her. "If you catch her now, we can avoid this whole thing."
"Don't get your hopes up, Flash. She's got muscle with her. Didn't see their faces. But even though I'm good at what I do—the best—I think she made me the second I made her. Switching to aerial tactics."
"Aerial?" Barry leaned in closer.
"She means she's doing some impressive parkour we're being deprived of seeing," Len came over swiftly from the hallway entrance carrying several sensors, with Cisco and Wally trailing behind him, "getting on a rooftop or overhang to stealth her way closer from above."
"Wow," Wally exclaimed, "she really is like some superspy, huh?"
"You realize you're standing in the presence of a superhero and supervillain, right?" Cisco shot the younger man a look as he set his collection of sensors on the desk beside Len's.
"I know," Wally shrugged, "but the 'cool' doesn't stop with Captain Cold."
Len barked a laugh. "You got promise, kid. You sure you gotta stick with the straight and narrow?"
"Len," Barry scolded him, partly on reflex for Joe's sake concerning Wally and partly because he wanted to know what was going on with Sara. "Canary, anything? We have your location. Do you need us to send someone in for backup? I think Ray's still—"
"Lost 'em," Sara's voice cut him off. "All of them. Damn. She either went into the Plaza or the Four Seasons, but I didn't see which. She knew I was tailing her, even once I went vertical. She's good, Leonard."
"I warned you," he leaned over Barry's shoulder to answer.
"We can stake out both," Sara said, "but if she's this good, she'll have a way to the meet-up without any of us seeing her."
"Stay there for now," Len told her, "just in case you catch sight of anyone else of interest, but when it gets closer to the meet-up, make scarce. If we lose her tonight, at least we'll know where to start tomorrow."
The near-miss had Barry's nerves on edge, counting down the hours, feeling cooped up in the Labs and anxious. Even once everyone started to congregate in one location again, save Sara still out on recon, Barry felt like he was close to scaling the walls.
What helped was watching the at times entertaining interactions of their strange crew. By the time they'd all eaten the dinner Mick and Ray brought in—a mobile meal, with everyone chowing down on pizza and sides while in motion around the Cortex—there wasn't any other busy-work to be handed out.
Len was explaining how his cold gun worked to Wally, showing off how he gave it a checkup before every important heist or mission by taking it apart and putting it back together. As a student fascinated by what Cisco had made—and that Len had tweaked—Wally was rapt with attention. Joe stood by with a scowl at his son interacting with a dangerous felon, though not too much of a scowl, which was something of a feat in itself.
Lisa was looking over the schematics with Cisco one last time, but was mostly using it as an excuse to hang on him. She had the plan down pat but enjoyed listening to Cisco speak from a place of authority and excitement about the mission ahead.
Ray and Caitlin were discussing the effects of Bivolo's powers and how the goggles prevented him from manipulating their brainwaves, and Iris was chatting with Mick, which might have given someone who didn't know her well pause, but she was one of the toughest people in the room.
She was enjoying a beer with the large pyro, needling details out of him that she could use for her next article. They were close enough to where Caitlin and Ray stood that when Mick reached for yet another beer—his third or fourth maybe—Ray strode over and snagged it, stealing a swig for himself.
He didn't make a big deal over it, just smiled and teased his partner, "Remember that conversation about sharing more when playing for the good guys, Mick?" before passing the beer back to him. What was amazing was that the simple ribbing had the desired effect. While Mick gave some grumbling bite of a comment back to Ray, he still set the beer aside.
Mick certainly seemed to enjoy his vices to an unhealthy degree, which was why Barry thought the act held more meaning than learning to share or having the self-control to put down the breaking point of one too many.
Ray returned to his conversation with Caitlin and Iris got pulled into their talk as well, leaving Mick to debate between joining them or one of the other clusters. Barry watched him give a non-too-subtle eye-roll at Lisa's antics with Cisco, then seemed about to head over to Len, Wally, and Joe when he visibly tensed like he'd noticed something unpleasant.
Following the line of Mick's gaze, Barry thought it was something about Len—the cold gun maybe? But that didn't make any sense. Then Barry saw it, as light glinted off the metal encasing Len's pinky finger.
He'd donned a ring today, which Barry hadn't thought to question. Len was eccentric in many ways. A silver pinky ring was hardly strange. But the way it got Mick lost in his head made Barry wonder if it held deeper meaning, especially since Len had chosen to wear it today.
Turning away from Len's group, Mick noticed Barry standing nearby, just distant enough to have a good view of everybody. To Barry's surprise, Mick headed toward him.
"You not having a beer, Red?"
"Oh, uhh…doesn't do anything for me," Barry said, glad Mick hadn't gone so far as to bring him one, though there was thoughtfulness in the question. "I heal so quickly, my body purges the alcohol before I feel it."
"Sucks to be you," Mick said, as though never being able to get a buzz again was Barry's worst hardship.
"Sometimes…it really does." He couldn't help the way his eyes stayed on Len, even as Mick shifted to lean against the desk beside him.
"You noticed the ring, huh?"
Mick was talking to Barry, furthering the conversation without prompting. "Yeah, uhh…Sara said something in Saints about a memento from Alexa, right?"
"That'd be it."
"She gave it to him?"
"Yep. After I gave it to her."
Oh. Barry often forgot that Alexa had been seeing both Rogues back when they were young men starting their criminal careers. That they were still friends now, decades later, spoke of something far stronger than anything Alexa could break. Sad as it was to think of what she'd done to them, that gave Barry hope.
"Why would he keep it?" Barry asked.
"Coz I told him to. From me, not her. Didn't think he'd listen for so long. Says he likes the reminder to not be a fricken idiot again."
Barry snorted. "Yeah…yet here he is being an idiot with me, right?"
There was a grunt and grumble before Mick said, "Yer not so bad."
A smile warmed Barry's face. He never would have guessed he could stand beside Heat Wave and be glad they were getting along. It meant something to have the man's blessing though. As Barry glanced aside to take in the figure of the imposing pyro, he couldn't help thinking that his fierce expression was sadder than he wanted anyone to notice.
"Hey, Mick? What about you and Alexa?"
Mick flicked his eyes to the side at Barry, then almost instantly away again. "You know that already."
"Right, but…we're all so focused on Len. She's focused on Len. What about what she was to you?"
The way Mick shifted and rolled his shoulders said he was seconds from shutting this down and walking away, but he didn't. He clenched his jaw for a moment but eventually started to speak. "Not like I was some blushin' virgin before her or nothin', she was just the first nice, smart gal who gave me the time 'a day. Always sweet, ya see, and…what's the word? Attentive to me and Snart. 'Course she never pushed too far when we were all together so we wouldn't catch wise she was seeing us both. But when she had me alone…she'd get softer, always said pretty things like she knew just what..." After trailing off like he hadn't meant to get that intimate, he cleared his throat.
"Ya probably think Lisa's the same, huh?" Mick switched gears. "She's not. Oh she'll honey pot if she has to, you know that much."
"Sure," Barry nodded, "that's how I first met her, when she was going after Cisco."
"But she plays the game short and it's done. Lexxy kept the con rollin' for months."
Lexxy, Barry cataloged the slip that said Mick wasn't as over the heartache she'd left behind as he pretended. He and Len had both been wounded deep. And suddenly it dawned on Barry how deep when it came to Mick, even though Alexa barely acknowledged him for the game she'd set in motion.
"Was that ring…meant to be an engagement ring?" Barry asked.
Mick's posture was usually an immovable wall, never fully relaxed even when drinking or acting flippant, but when he was really on edge, he seemed to turn to stone. Then he softened like it was too draining to hold onto the past tonight.
"Said she wasn't a diamond kinda gal. But it still sparkles, don't ya think?" he said, watching the way the light hit Len's ring, glittering even more brilliantly than the core of the cold gun. "I was just the meathead muscle to help her finish her con. Snart was the one she had to get close to and really be careful around, since he's so damn sharp and picks up on when things are goin' south. Damn near broke his nose when I saw him wearing that ring the first time. Now…twenty years later, he's still around and I don't need the headache of some broad on my arm."
Meaning, he didn't mind Len wearing the ring if it represented them more than what Alexa had tried to do to them, but Barry wasn't so sure Mick was being honest that he was happy being alone.
"What about other options?" Barry turned his gaze from Len's group to Ray's.
"Snart been sayin' shit?" Mick growled.
"No," Barry held up his hands, "I just…noticed. Lisa maybe said a few things…"
Another grumble and twitch of Mick's fingers like he wished he had one of those beers after all. "Damn busybody."
"It's just…I see how you act around Len and Lisa. I see how you act around others now too. You act different around Ray. And he obviously likes you."
"Ray likes everybody."
Barry chuckled, but this was an important subject to him, because he knew what it was like to pine from afar. "Take it from someone who knows, it isn't worth it to wait and never tell someone how you feel, even if you're not sure they feel the same. Or are you waiting for some grand gesture first?"
Mick snorted, looking surlier by the moment. "It'd have to be pretty damn grand for me to believe Haircut wants anything to do with me like that. Now drop it," he warned.
"Okay," Barry held up his hands again, knowing he had to tread lightly with Mick, but he couldn't let the matter drop without saying one more thing. "Guess it's been wearing on me that Len never told me about his apparent crush all this time just because he didn't think I'd feel the same. Now here we are and all I want is to keep being with him. Maybe you have too much in common thinking you aren't worth love or second chances when everyone keeps trying to surround you with it. I for one—and I don't mean to sound condescending but—I'm really proud of you, Mick. I like having the Rogues on our side. And for what it's worth, I know Len's really proud of you too."
The stone wall was back, but Barry thought he saw at least a few cracks in the foundation before Mick pushed from the desk. "Knew hangin' around you do-gooders would rot my teeth."
Barry smiled as Mick left his side to join Len's group. Only Lisa seemed to have noticed their discussion, and when Barry caught her eyes, he got a devious idea that definitely required a smooth talker's touch. When the brunette tilted her head at his no doubt scheming expression, Barry gestured her over with a curl of his finger.
Sometimes people required a mild push to head the direction they deep down wanted to go. Even if Barry's love life was potentially on its way to disaster, that didn't mean everyone had to suffer.
There was one neighborhood where each of the Central City mob families had some sort of hold within a few blocks' radius. Not impartial territory exactly, it belonged to the Mendozas, but it was still treated as a sort of neutral zone where no trafficking or illegal activity occurred out of respect for the other powers houses.
The Mendozas, Santinis, Dunkirks, Bratva, and Yeuns. With Alexa, that meant six interested factions. All they were missing was Len's Rogues, and even without a direct invite, he was ready to make his appearance. He just never expected to be heading to a mob rendezvous with The Flash at his side.
They both wore their goggles, outfitted to the nines for the occasion, with Len is his parka and the cold gun at the ready.
The building chosen for the meeting was surrounded by streets like the center of a star, with five directions heading away from it representing the five families. Watching the building and surrounding streets from various perches was Mick, Lisa, Sara, Ray, and Joe West. Cisco, Caitlin, Iris, and young Wally were back at the Labs.
As Barry and Len made their approach, having waited a handful of minutes after the designated meet time to ensure everyone else would be inside, they moved at normal speed for the doors. Ray's job was to plant the sensors around the perimeter before returning to his lookout point.
"Careful when hitting your marks, Raymond," Len whispered into the comms, eyeing the dark alleyways. "Could have eyes and ears everywhere."
"Follow our lead, Atom," Sara said. "The rest of us can direct you to the best spots to remain undetected."
"You got it!"
Len trusted their crew to be smart, to play things safe and make the right calls. Well, maybe everyone but Raymond, but even he was capable of following orders on occasion.
"CCPD is on standby for an anonymous tip, Barry," West said.
There was nothing more to do than start the show.
Len reached for the doors and Barry grasped his hand briefly with overlapping fingers, squeezing mild pressure through Len's glove to the ring beneath. Their eyes met through tinted lenses, blue and red so that both of them saw purple when they looked at each other.
Lips parting, Barry seemed about to say something, but instead he smiled, squeezed Len's hand once more, and let go.
Slipping inside the building, a murmur of voices alerted them that this was indeed the place, but there were no guards waiting to greet them. The representatives were gathered in the center of a large main room in front of a foreman's platform like a makeshift stage. Alexa did like to leave an impression.
Large beams similar to the setup Mardon had been squatting in allowed them to sneak forward undetected. The unlocked doors without any watchful eyes guarding them proved to Len that Alexa expected him and The Flash and wanted them to be there. There'd be something they couldn't anticipate, Len just had to hope he and Barry could adapt faster than Alexa.
Hiding behind one of the beams closest to the action with Barry tight beside him, they peered out to get a lay of the land. Len recognized nearly every face.
Mario Mendoza, the youngest son, with two of his largest muscle. He was the only member of the family who hadn't done time, which often meant he was mistaken for weak. He was hardly weak—or stable, for that matter. He'd just never been put away for the throats he slit.
Pete Moretti for the Santinis with a couple new-blood guns for hire from Keystone. Most loyal grunt the Santinis ever had, even now, with the family scattered.
Colleen Dunkirk—oldest matriarch for the Irish. She made any of the Dunkirk men look like Boy Scouts. Alexa would get along with her swimmingly, Len imagined. Colleen had a man as wide as he was tall on one side of her and an intimidatingly muscled woman with blunt hair on the other.
The two Bratva brothers who'd been in Len's apartment were there—perfect—though the true representative for the Russians was the third in command of the Central City chapter.
Finally there was Gyeong Yeun, the leader for the Koreans. She had muscle with her like everybody else, but she'd come herself instead of sending a proxy because she didn't trust her subordinates with important business. Even traps she made sure to attend personally. So far she'd always made it out alive. A couple times she was the only one left alive.
None of these groups wanted to secede power. Alexa could hardly sway them that direction through threats alone, or using any of the power she'd displayed so far. After all, the Bratva had made an example of her men—men who'd been caught by The Flash and taken into the CCPD. That showed weakness more than anything. The families would be friendlier to Len than some stranger who used to call this city home. Though Moretti could pose a problem since Len had targeted the Santinis before, but the play he and Barry had in mind was still the smart one.
But that begged the question of what play Alexa was about to make.
Walking onto her stage, Bivolo trailed Alexa, as well as MacReady and Goldman just as Len had predicted. She looked as glamorous as ever—gently curled auburn hair, flawless makeup, and a dress she'd clearly chosen to grab everyone's attention because while it was a simple black color, floor-length with long sleeves, it also had a strikingly high slit and cutouts as if the dress were a halter and the sleeves detached.
The crowd stirred, but many of them knew the men she had with her, and knew to fear Bivolo and what he could do. Meta humans had changed the game. Alexa was counting on their fear of that.
"Still remember who she is?" Barry whispered.
They'd worried initially that Bivolo's programming for Len to forget Alexa in Barry's presence might make their plan obsolete, which would have required resorting to plan B—Barry confronting the families alone—but Alexa must have intended that as a single-use trick or very specifically situational, because Len had no trouble remembering who she was.
"We got this," he said.
"So glad to make all of your acquaintances," Alexa began the gathering as the murmurs of the crowd died down, poised and sly and totally in her element. "Though, Madame Yeun, you may recall we met many years ago when I was last home, first learning the trade."
Gyeong dipped her head in acknowledgment but not full acceptance of Alexa yet.
"I brought you all here to discuss the thorn in your sides. Stirring up your streets. Infiltrating your neighborhoods. Pitting you against each other, wondering who could be behind it all. And forcing the hand of your best men into dangerous situations at the CCPD," she indicated the Bratva. "You want this all to stop, I imagine. You want this person's identity so they can be handled and taken out of the equation. Well I am here to deliver them to you, because they are among us now."
Again, the crowd stirred and rumbled. Len had several scenarios prepared for. It seemed Alexa was planning on pinning everything on one family to get the others to turn against them. A sloppy play, which didn't seem like her style, given she could easily get caught in the crossfire.
Barry shared a concerned look with him, but he shook his head. They needed to listen a while longer before making their presence known.
"That your way of giving yourself up, sweetheart?" Mario called out, a disrespectful little sociopath, for certain, which made Alexa's mouth twitch ever so subtly as she smiled wider.
"Picture News would certainly like you to think so," she folded her hands primly in front of her, "since that story yesterday mentions a woman behind everything, courtesy of The Flash."
Would she pin it on Colleen then? Or Gyeong? It would be the most advantageous to take out Gyeong since she was one of the biggest threats and actually a family head.
"Misdirection," Alexa said. "The Flash knew I would reveal myself if called out, even if not by name, because he knows I've figured out his plan."
"What is she talking about?" Barry hissed.
Len held up a hand to keep him quiet.
"I'm unfamiliar to many of you, but Central City is still my home. The Flash is one of the reasons I finally came back. Because I see what he's doing to this city. The leash he keeps you all on. I can't abide that as someone who remembers the power these proud families once held. An opportunistic hero looking to supplant the old ways by running things himself."
Of course there was another obvious direction this could go, but it was going to be the hardest to talk their way out of.
"You're saying The Flash is behind this?" Colleen folded her arms with a twist of her lips. "Then why stop his own men?"
"To make us scramble like rats," Mario bit out. "So he can control us."
"Precisely," Alexa said, eyes scanning over the crowd and darting briefly beyond them right at Len. "And I'm going to tell you how."
The way this was going to unfold suddenly became clear to Len and his stomach dropped. She wasn't merely putting the blame on The Flash, she was going to reveal Barry's identity. Prove he was Barry Allen—CCPD, CSI. She'd taken an extra day after the article dropped knowing Len's side would take that time to prepare and learn everything they could about the players involved, gather the evidence—all things that would further back up Alexa's claim, making anything they tried to use to pin the blame on her simply prove The Flash was a CSI with knowledge and access no one else should have.
Once the families knew Barry's real name, they wouldn't care about anything else. Alexa had ensured that every step Len and the others had taken to beat her was something she could use against them.
"I promise," Len faced Barry, hoping his expression conveyed how much he meant this, "everything I do from here on out is to protect you."
"What?"
Ripping the goggles from Barry's eyes, Len pushed him out from behind the beam into the open where several heads whipped his direction, then he withdrew his cold gun to fire, coating Barry from neck to ankles like he had that night when his father caught them.
Barry's wide eyes looking at Len in betrayal…stung, but he couldn't let Barry and everyone the kid cared about get laid at the mercy of every mob family in Central once they learned his name.
"Sorry, I'm late," Len said as he stepped from the beam to reveal himself, grin in place and all the ache choked down in response to Barry's pain.
Everyone who was armed turned to point their guns at Len. Still moving forward, he didn't pause until he was parallel with Barry, hands raised with the cold gun pointed at the ceiling.
"As promised, Alexa," he said and watched the way her expression grew devilishly smug. Casting his gaze around the room, Len shrugged. "You didn't really think I'd switched sides, did you?"
TBC...
I know alot of you wanted sex, and I toyed with it, I really did, but it would have thrown off everything I planned to have happen, and it doesn't fit the theme - that Len LOVES Barry, he doesn't purely want sex with him, and because of that, even he can't accept sex he doesn't think Barry really wants.
As for how he's going to talk his way out of this mess...it's actually pretty good, even though it totally plays into what Alexa wants.
Don't think that Alexa has had everything planned from the start though, by the way, she just knows the general direction she wants things to go, and then she is flawless at reacting and improvising to get what she wants.