I LIVE!

I cannot fucking timeline shit so when does all this happen? Mostly either directly following last chapter but the section with cisco time skips forward a day or so. This is part of why it's taken me a damn year to write this. If you're confused...so am I. I will attempt to make, like. An actual calendar and post the link or something.

Warnings for this chapter: threats, temperature /environment related torture, brief mention of fear of being gassed that does not happen, starvation.

Chapter 13

With every hour that passed, Joe grew more anxious, and he knew he wasn't the only one. Eddie had called Signh right away, though they'd had to keep the details vague. Tracking Barry's phone, like the others, had brought them no leads. While they still offered to Singh the possibility of Barry simply going off on a lead, they knew better. It had been over a day. Barry had been taken, too, there was no other explanation for the lack of contact. Whoever had taken him had disabled the tracking on it, as well as the beacon in his suit. Security cameras at STAR had turned up nothing, but they were not the most reliable, in any event.

That the suit was gone did offer one clue: whoever had taken Barry had taken him as the Flash, which mean that the others had almost certainly been taken in connection to that. The lists of suspects dwindled quickly: very few of the Flash's enemies were still loose, but there were enough, and enough who might feel threatened. The Snarts and Rory, all of whom knew his identity and connection to Cisco and Caitlin. Bivolo, who had to know Caitlin and Cisco from his time in the creepy-basement prison. Mark Mardon-Barry'd stopped him from destroying the city, and he had also almost certainly seen their faces.

Joe frowned at the list he was making. Mardon would have come after him, after Iris and Barry as his foster son, not the Flash...but maybe that priority had changed. Still, that Iris hadn't been targeted made Joe doubt that this was Mardon. There had to be more. There were too many. How many criminals had Barry caught, not just those with powers, but beyond? How many had lost someone or something to Star Labs? There was no telling if this was an old enemy at all, or if it was someone new, finally emerging. Joe hated the thought, and the helplessness that came with it. Worse, though he hadn't said as much to Iris or Eddie, there was the gnawing fear that if Caitlin and Cisco had only been taken as bait or in revenge for something that had been caused by Star Labs, they might already be dead.

"Anything?" Iris asked, coming over to the desk with a cardboard container of coffee cups, handing one off to Joe and putting the other in front of Eddie, slumped over a stack of files. Joe had decided to let him sleep for a few minutes.

"Does that mean you didn't find anything either?" he asked, shaking his head and reaching for the coffee, scalding his mouth on it.

"I've been going through everything people've sent the blog. No sign of any of the metas that got away. The commetors have been quiet too. Usually after something with the Flash I get, you know, the crazies, going off about the Flash being an alien or a criminal who deserves to die or-whatever bullshit, but there hasn't been anything more than the usual….I'd ask Felicity or-or Cisco to run the IPs anyway, but…"

"Give them to, uh-" Joe shook his head, squinting. "What's her name, in charge of tech, officer…" a yawn tried to wrack his body, he suppressed it. "You know her. Franson?"

Iris chewed her lip. " did you sleep? I didn't."
"No," Joe held the coffee like it was a life line. "But I'm fine. Give officer Franson the IPs. I've ….I reported Barry missing, and we've got Cisco's case file to connect them too…"
"And Caitlin's," Eddie said, over the edge of the coffee cup. "Called in favors, connected it to Cisco….they still think she jumped but said something like 'have fun with the paperwork' so…" he stopped. "How long was I asleep?"

"Not long," Joe lied. It had been two hours, but God knew at least one of them should rest.

"You could have woke me. Woken? Whatever. Wait, you found something?"
"I don't think so, but …" Iris sighed. "Maybe? I don't know. Just a couple of the more… angry voices on the internet about Star Labs and the Flash. You know, the " why didn't the flash save my house from burning down" and " star labs is secretly still running and poisoning the water supply to take over all our brains wake up sheeple" bull."

Eddie made a noise and went back to his stack of files. "Reports of robberies fitting Snart's MO." he said. "They think he's in Opal city right now, but he might have been in Keystone last week…"

"Just let me know, ok?" Iris said, worrying the thin gold chain around her neck. " I mean it. As soon as you have anything. I have to get back to work, I'm going to tell the reporters to keep ears open for anything involving-well, STAR Labs. I guess advertising that the Flash is…isn't here…." she trailed off. "We're going to find him," she said, firmly. "We're going to find all of them."

Joe knew her tone, too well. It was the voice she used when she had to convince herself as much as anyone she was speaking to.

"West! Thawne!" Singh shouted from across the bullpen. "My office, now."

Joe hoped it wasn't more bad news, but knew that wasn't something to be counted on.

Ronnie shivered. They'd dragged him to a small cell down two flights of stairs and through a maze of narrow hallways. He hadn't been sure what to expect, but they'd taken his shirt and cuffed his hands behind him to a bar on the far wall. He could see the door, the mirror that had to be hiding a window, a grate in the tile floor. All of it unnerved him.

One of the soldiers had peered at his bare shoulder, where a thin red mark betrayed the Firestorm bond, and taken a picture of it. Ronnie had tried to kick him and had his ankles cuffed for his trouble. That was when the vents above him had kicked into gear, and he'd nearly jumped out of his skin. They wouldn't poison him with their own soldiers in here, would they? The cold air hit, and he relaxed only slightly. No, Eiling had just said they weren't going to be killed-yet. Still, this couldn't be anything good.

Someone-not a soldier, someone in a white coat- came in, leaving the door open for a few long seconds like a taunt. She pushed a rolling table with a computer and coils of wires and set about connecting them, sticking them to his skin at his neck, his wrists behind him, in an armpit. He tried to pull away, and she produced a radio. "Stay still, Firestorm. Didn't the General tell you what happens if you misbehave?"

Ronnie could feel the vein pulsing in his temple as she stuck another wire over it and a scattering across his chest, but he didn't move, only glared.

"That's more like it," she huffed, moving to the computer and attaching another wire to the back of her own neck and sliding a second up her sleeve. She ignored the questioning look he sent her, typed something else in, and raised the radio to her lips. "All set. What about your end?"

A tinny voice crackled over the radio, "Ready." In the background, Ronnie could hear Martin's voice, but he couldn't make out the individual words. It sounded like another language, but it was too hard to make out exactly, even if Ronnie had understood more than a dozen words in Yiddish.

The cold air intensified, until Ronnie could see his own breath in white wisps, hanging in front of him. The chill stung his lungs and nose, but he grit his teeth, unwilling to give the observers the satisfaction. Strangely, he didn't feel terribly cold, not exactly, not at first, but maybe that was just because he was trying to focus on anything other than the wires on his bare skin, the watchful eye of the doctor. He could feel Martin- distant, but not too far away, worried and confused, but not hurt. Not in pain. That was something, at least.

The woman-squinting, Ronnie thought he could make out part of a name embroidered on her jacket, Dr. Alci-something-typed something into the computer, nodding to herself.

"What-what's going on?" Ronnie demanded as much as asked. He could see the woman's gloved hands trembling, her own breath spilling from her mouth and nostrils like smoke. "What are you doing?"

Like before, she ignored him, detatching the wires from her own skin, typing a few more things into the computer before she turned to the door and left without another word. The door clunked shut behind her. Ronnie waited. Was whatever test this was over?

No one came to free him, or remove the wires. The room drew steadily colder.

His fingers and toes did not go numb, but they ached fiercely, the pain like a heartbeat. Drawing air into his lungs burned, and he longed to cover his nose, his ears. He could hear a noise, a steady clattering, and realized it was the wrist shackles moving against each other and the bar as he shivered. He tried to order his body to stop, to not show his captors how cold he was-god he was freezing- but his hands no longer seemed like parts of his body.

He closed his eyes, trying to reach for the flame that lay just out of reach inside him, but without the professor, that warmth was sealed off. Martin was not, he could feel the older man's panic, wordless held on. This was what they had done to Martin, back in March, the cold room. It had not broken Martin. It would not break him.

Time crawled by, he wasn't sure how long Eiling's people stood behind the mirrored glass watching him before the air above him clicked off, and the only sound was his own ragged breathing and the rattle of his cuffs.

The woman did not come in, but three soldiers did after a few minutes, wearing heavy gloves. They left his legs cuffed as they hauled him out, through Ronnie knew anything more than standing was beyond his ability. His feet may as well have been lumps of stone.

One of them pulled the computer with its wires-tossed haphazardly onto the wheeled table rather than coiled neatly- down the hall in one direction, but the sudden change in temperature was all he could focus on, the sudden warmth filling his hands, ears, and toes with a feeling like static, sharp and painful. Had the hallway been this hot when they'd put him in the cell? He was sure it hadn't been, but somehow, he couldn't care. It was so wonderful to be warm again.

"Impressive," Eiling said, watching Martin shudder as the professor was led back to his cell. "How low did you push it?"

"Raymond's cell reached 27 degrees Fahrenheit before there was any change to his core body temperature," Dr. Alcina reported, rubbing her fingers together. "23 degrees before there was a noticeable drop. According to the readings, the drops corresponded with the professor's own, down to the second. We pushed it to 15 for a few minutes, but didn't want to risk permanently damaging either asset."

"Very good," Eiling nodded. "Of course, only one test…"
The doctor scowled. "I didn't graduate yesterday. I'm not an idiot, General. With our approval, we'll continue testing the bond with temperature, and conditions. Dry heat, damp cold…"

"Excellent. You're dismissed, then. Keep me apprised."
"Of course, General Eiling, Sir."

Joe didn't recognize the woman sitting primly in front of Captain Singh's desk.
"Captain?" he asked, as Eddie came up to stand behind him.

The woman didn't wait to be introduced or an explanation to be offered. "I can't believe you idiots think my daughter would kill herself over some man."

"Mrs. Snow," Joe guessed, wondering who had called her when he'd hoped to keep things under wraps a little longer. Caitlin rarely spoke of her mother, and never with any warmth.

"Doctor," she corrected cooly. "Doctor Tannhauser. Someone from Piedmont called this morning, said you took over the case-that there was a case at all. Why wasn't I informed?"
"We're still investigating," Eddie said, wincing as Joe gave him a Look.
" And you aren't listed as next of kin," Joe said. "When we have answers, we'll let you know, but for now-"
"What do you mean I'm not listed? She doesn't have any other family."
"Be that as it may, Ma'am-Doctor-, it's out of our hands."

She huffed. "I raised my daughter better than this, she wouldn't ruin her life over a dead man, she's not stupid."

Joe fought the urge to glare. "As my partner said, we are still investigating. We haven't recovered-anything else from the crime scene. I know this must be hard for you-"

"You can't possibly imagine. Who did this? Someone from that dead-end job she was wasting her potential at?"

"We don't know." Captain Singh said. " Once again, Dr. Tannhauser, you aren't her emergency contact or her next of kin. We can only give you information available to the public, and right now there isn't any. My officers will let you know if that changes, but for now, allow them to do their work."

"I'm her mother. I'm all the family she has. What aren't you telling me?"
"As soon as we have something, we'll let you know," Joe repeated. The more people who knew that Ronnie wasn't dead, that the note had been faked, the more risk there was. If Caitlin was still alive, the last thing she needed was her mother making a scene.

"Eddie, why don't you take Dr. Tannhauser's statement. Maybe the last time you and Dr. Snow spoke, she mentioned something, or …" Joe trailed off.

Eddie nodded, "This way, Ma'am. Any information would be appreciated."

The two of them left for a meeting room, and David looked at Joe.

"Have you found anything?"

" No, but…. She may be right. There's a connection to Star somehow. The lab, or…. You know that Snow and Ramon work with the Flash….."
Captain Singh sighed, heavily. " Unofficially, yes. Officially… I do now. You think this has to do with him?"

"It could be. Barry's… helped him, too."

"Of course he has. Alright. Follow any leads. How many officers do you want on this? I can spare-"
"Just us, for now. Let us dig a little deeper."
"West, Allen's one of ours, and that's two civilians. I'm not risking lives so you and Thawne can-" he stopped. " no. that was uncalled for. I know you wouldn't insist on keeping this small if it wasn't important. But whatever you need, just ask. Every resource is available."
" Thank you, Captain. I have to go. I need to see if any of the Flash's allies…"
"Go."

At his desk, Joe tried again to reach Oliver or Felicity with no luck, and there was no response from the rest of the Starling-Star-city vigilantes. Joe cursed softly, and started searching through his files again. There had to be something, someone, they were missing.

The first time Cisco built a treadmill capable of living up to Barry's superspeed, it had taken him a week, and that was under much better conditions. Even without his laptop full of blueprints and schematics, Cisco thought he could rig something up sooner. He hoped. If Eiling meant it about not giving Barry food or water until it was done….the average human might last a couple days without water, longer without food, but Cisco had listened to enough of Caitlin's tirades at Barry when he got caught up in running and didn't drink enough water or eat at least three calorie bars along with his meals. One thing was certain, he didn't have a week. He'd been working for hours, locked in a room with the remains of a busted treadmill.

Briefly, he'd considered using the tools they gave him to rig up a weapon of some kind. But with what he had, the best he could manage would be some kind of taser, and with two guards in the room with him, more out in the hall and his ankles cuffed, by the time he freed himself, someone would sound an alarm. Then Eiling would hurt Barry, or Caitlin, or Ronnie, or worse than just hurt them.

He fumbled the screwdriver he held in shaking hands, and bent to pick it up. There wasn't time to be tired. There wasn't time to be hungry. He could do this. Just like late nights working in the accelerator, except instead of Ronnie bringing pizza, or Hartley whining about delays and cute guys, it was armed guards who might shoot him if he asked for another bathroom break. His Tax Dollars at Work. no don't think about them don't think about Eiling just think about the work. It's for Barry. Treadmill, super good treadmill, Supersonic Treadmill, no, that's a shitty name, that's what Cait would call it. He said if I finish this Caitlin can see Ronnie. We need to talk if we're gonna get out of this, and Barry has to be ok, so-finish. Just keep working.

A headache built in his head and his fingers cramped, but Cisco ignored them as best he could, connecting wires, trying not to flinch when the guards drew closer when he picked up a small soldering iron. "I'm just doing what your boss wanted," he'd ground out, and thankfully they'd backed off.

For Barry, for Caitlin, he could do this. He could play along until they could get out, or until Joe and Eddie came.

Cisco put a panel in place, careful not to force it, and thought a quick prayer. It wasn't the prettiest piece of exercise equipment in the universe, and probably not even in the top 500, though he hadn't exactly spent a ton of time in gyms or fitness stores since ever, but it should work, and that was what mattered.

He tried to squeeze the aching cramps from his fingers as he put the screwdriver on the workbench, fingers ghosting over short screws and wire cutters before he reached up, thought a prayer, and turned the machine on.

Please love me. I'm sorry it took so long. comments are appeciated