Alright! Things are getting worse before they get better...
I'm taking a few days off by the sea, though I'm taking all my stuff with me and I will try posting, depending on wifi signals and stuff. :)
Now, since is an AU, the Harrison Wells I'm writing is also an AU-Wells. He is the successor to the impostor/Thawne, but he's not Harry or any other incarnation from the show. There won't be an Earth-number where he came from. He's just... Harrison Wells 2.0. And a good guy. Hope that's good enough because I'm not going to write his back story. I'm busy with Barry and Len as it is ;)
Cisco Ramon found him at one of the known hangouts that Len frequented from time to time. He must have been tracking him all over town to finally get here, probably looking for traces of the cold gun's core.
"We need your help!" Ramon insisted. "Barry's been hurt."
"He heals and I'm not his nurse," he said dismissively.
Inside something sat up sharply and took notice. The Flash had hyper-healing. For Ramon to come to him, it had to be bad.
"Listen," Cisco said, voice dropping to an intense level. "I know you two have some kind of truce or arrangement going."
Snart gave him one of his trademark cold smiles. "Do you now, Cisco?" he asked, letting the smile grow.
The younger man squared his shoulders. "Yes, I do. Barry and I talked after he got hit badly that one time. When he limped out of the cortex to heal. He went to see you. You! Captain Cold!"
"Cold," he corrected him lazily. "No rank. Just the name." Len leaned against the counter.
"Right now I don't care!" Ramon hissed. "Barry told me you have that grounding effect on him. On the Speed Force."
"Did he now?" he asked lazily, putting as much disinterest into his voice as was humanly possible, with a side of mockery.
"We know Barry's been spending time with you again and again. He didn't outright tell us each and every time, but we're not stupid. And he's not that good a liar."
"He's the hero in this story. What did you expect?" he deadpanned, a sardonic twist to his lips.
Cisco looked annoyed. "You also popped up a lot around where Barry was handling matters, meta or otherwise. And you've been training his senses with him, right? Not something Caitlin was all too happy about, let me tell you, but Barry's getting a hang of his abilities in a way he never had before! You helped him. He needs your help now!"
"You mistake an exchange of information or the occasional… assist," the words were heavy with disdain, "with actually caring."
Cisco's eyes flared. "You care!" he snapped. "You care a lot about Barry Allen und you care a lot about The Flash! You helped him way before whatever happened that so profoundly changed between you two! Not because you got something out of it either! That's helping! And he really needs your help now!"
Len studied the younger man, saw the dark patches under his eyes, not hidden by his natural olive complexion. He saw the tension, took in the tone of voice. It was worse than bad then. It had to be life-threatening. Still, Leonard Snart's ingrained distrust and suspicion was still clamoring at him not to fall for a possible trap.
"This conversation is over," he declared and started to turn.
"You're his Guide, Cold!"
He almost froze at the statement. His whole body tensed, his eyes turned hard and unyielding, and he stared at the young engineer.
"I think you've got your wires crossed, kid. I'm not a Guide. He's also not a Sentinel who would ever need one. End of story."
The exasperated look on the scientist's face was highly amusing.
Snart had to give it to him, Cisco Ramon was persistent, quite courageous, but also a little stupid. Walking into Saints and Sinners in the middle of the day, looking like the perfect mark? He was lucky that the place wasn't officially open just yet and that Len's reputation had given them a clear room and no eyes or ears on them.
"Barry told you about being a Sentinel. A meta Sentinel," Cisco stated and there was a sharp, almost triumphant smile. Snart had to give it to him, he was tenacious and he was good. "You know what he is, right? He trusted you with that knowledge."
"I'm good getting intel I need."
"No one knows about his Sentinel status!"
"Well, I do."
"Because Barry told you! And to train a Sentinel's senses? A Sentinel who would stop you if you pulled some illegal stuff? That's not the guy we last tried to put behind bars!"
He drew in a calming breath. "What," he grinded, "do you want from me, Cisco?"
"Maybe you've seen the recent string of murders on the news?"
"Not my kinda TV. Too intense. I prefer the wasteland of daytime soaps." He smirked.
"To each his own. Well, someone with a grudge against metas developed a disruptor gun of sorts. It… scrambles a meta's powers. Really badly, right down to having them backfire at the meta using them. It kinda inverts the power to work on the user, which means if you throw fire…"
"You get burned," Len concluded. "Nifty."
"Not for the people he shot with that gun!" Cisco snapped furiously. "Not every meta is a criminal! Well, Barry tried to stop him."
"He tried to stop a meta killer who could very easily kill him? Of course he would," Len muttered under his breath. "Idiot!"
"He got the guy, but he was also hit by the disruptor."
A cold, cold feeling spread through his insides. Followed by the intense heat of fury and rage. "And he survived," Snart stated, refusing to let his emotions show.
Ramon nodded. "His hyper-healing isn't taking. He keeps… flashing. Moving very fast. And he's not very… lucid. We needed to get him quarantined in the Pipeline. Well, an isolation room within the Pipeline."
Snart's mind froze for a whole second, refusing to acknowledge the words. He knew of the Pipeline, knew that the rooms were specifically designed to hold a meta human, that they were impossible to break out of, and to do that to Scarlet… A new anger surged briefly, then he clamped down on it.
"You locked him inside a prison cell?" he asked tonelessly.
"It's not a prison," protested. "It's a room specifically designed to stop a meta from getting out. It's surrounded by a barrier powere by an eight point three Tesla superconducting electromagnet, which is about one hundred thousand times the strength of Earth's magnetic field."
"It's a makeshift prison, Cisco. You locked Barry up in prison." He almost hissed the last word.
"We couldn't do anything else!" the younger man exclaimed. "He's… It's not just the speed flashes. He hurts himself because the speed turns in on him, Cold! He can't control his powers! He kept phasing through everything! If he looses control enough, he might get stuck halfway!"
"And you think I of all people could help," he stated coldly, emotions churning like acid inside him.
Cisco nodded. "We hope," he amended. "Like I said, Barry kinda told me about where he's been going lately. I told the others. I had to. It's the only hope we have left."
"You don't know that."
"You helped him before! Please!"
Snart studied him, the lines in his face, the worry, the desperation. He hadn't seen a lot of Barry lately, or The Flash, but there had been a string of murders spread all over the news. Len hadn't really paid it much attention until one of the bodies turned out to be a known metahuman criminal who had just returned to Central City. He had been shot and killed in the middle of the day, in the train station, and apparently it had turned into quite a mess.
His mind calculated all the angles, all the possibilities, always cycling back to the Pipeline, rendering himself into the vastness of the former particle accelerator. He waded through the entry and exit points, explored his options, and finally nodded.
"Alright," he drawled with a sneer. "I'll help."
Relief spread over Cisco's face. "Thank you," he breathed.
"Don't thank me yet. I'm not the magical cure."
The dark eyes held a strange expression. "Maybe you're not a Guide, but you're something, Snart. You're something to Barry. We both know the Sentinel doesn't need balancing, but the meta Sentinel reacts to you. That's the something we need right now."
He refused to so much as twitch at the words. He wasn't the protective kind of person. He wasn't soft or kind. He was a criminal, had been called a supervillain once or twice.
Barry had changed him, though. And the protectiveness was something he wasn't used to. It flared in a fight, it was there when Barry sought him out to decompress or just… hang out.
He cared.
Damnit, he cared. Team Flash knew it, used it, and Leonard Snart found that he couldn't care less about that.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Snart."
He studied Harrison Wells with a calculating look, already casing S.T.A.R. Labs as he did every building he entered. It was automatic and something he had never not done. Len raised an eyebrow as he quite blatantly ran his eyes down the tall, lean form dressed all in black. The standing tall, lean form dressed all in black. No wheelchair in sight.
"So you're the new guy?" he asked evenly.
"Long story," Cisco commented, interpreting his expression correctly.
Len gave the younger man a cold look. "I know how the first story ended, Cisco," he ground out. "Painfully, with a cliffhanger."
Cisco's slightly tense, gray look spoke lengths. Len had never gotten the whole story out of Barry, and he might never get it, but he knew some things. Some very sick things.
The new Wells chuckled, but there was no humor in his voice. "You should read the sequel. Much better and with a happy end."
"That's your interpretation. I hate book reviews."
"Oh, I think there won't be a movie coming out."
"I'd prefer reading to the faulty adaptation any day."
Wells grinned more, clearly amused, clearly enjoying the back and forth. Len just kept his mask in place and one hand close to the cold gun.
"So, welcome to S.T.A.R. Labs, where everything's new and still the same old."
"As if I had a choice."
"Everyone has a choice," the man said mildly.
Len cocked an eyebrow. Sure. Throw Barry needing his help, The Flash needing his help, at him and look if Leonard Snart had a choice. Newsflash: he didn't. He hadn't for a while now.
They walked briskly to an elevator that took them to the Pipeline. The grave expression on Snow's face told him everything. She might not be happy to have him here, but her worry for Barry was stronger than her possible objections.
Len had never been down in the belly of S.T.A.R. Labs, the place where the ill-fated particle accelerator had been and where the skeleton of it still was. The access hatch looked impressive and rivalled some of the future tech he had seen, but the cavernous room behind that hatch took a moment to settle. It was a gigantic tube, slightly curving in each direction, and about five or six stories high. The lights came on as they walked inside and Len's eyes tracked over everything he could see, took in every corner, every cable, every nook and cranny. Inside his head, the rendering process was already running wild, drawing up a map of the place.
They stopped in front of a room that didn't look like the typical Pipeline prison chamber. It looked like cobbled together from the cavities, creating a cell the size of three or four dorm rooms.
"The effects of the disruptor gun are different for Barry than other metas. He wasn't hit fully. It might also be because he's genetically a rare type of Sentinel on top of his meta changes. It might also be because despite the fact that you're not a classical Guide, you two have a connection."
Caitlin stopped as she saw Snart's darkening expression.
"Do not make a mistake, Dr. Snow," he grated. "I am not his Guide. Barry doesn't need one. You know it. I know it. He knows it."
She opened her mouth as if to protest, but snapped it shut again when Wells shook his head.
"Squabble about terminology later. And there is a term for you, Mr. Snart, but that's not important. And no, you're not a Guide. I can very much agree with that assessment. Mr. Allen might not have been torn to pieces by the disruptor's effect on his speed powers, but the adverse results are numerous," Wells laid out the facts. "Metahumans have been exposed to particles of the accelerator explosion and dark matter that altered their genetic code or even atomic structure. The disruptor targets those changes, tearing into the dark matter, trying to expunge it from the human form. I think you can imagine what happens to the human in the process. Not only do their powers get out of control, are focused on themselves, but their cells are trying to tear apart at the same time."
Len had a sudden desire to throw up. He wasn't squeamish by nature, but the image of Barry overlaid the explanation and he really didn't want to think what this had done to the speedster.
"Barry was lucky to a degree," Harrison continued calmly. "He survived. As Dr. Snow mentioned, it might be because he is a Sentinel, which means his genetic code is different to begin with, and he only suffered a glancing blow. It wasn't enough to kill him, but it did damage."
"What kind of damage?" he asked, voice rough.
"Aside from his physical wounds, he is highly combative, has trouble focusing on where he is and who we are, and he seems to slip in his memories."
"Amnesia?!" Len blurted before he could catch himself.
"A form of it. He knows where he is most of the time, as well as who he is, but he keeps slipping." Wells pursed his lips. "The worst of our problems is that his connection to the Speed Force was also disrupted. It's trying to heal him and itself. He's completely out of focus, loses touch with reality, and he keeps accessing his speed, causing more damage. He cannot find access and when he does connect, it's an overload. His body can't take it indefinitely. He will tear himself apart while still healing the damage done to him."
"And you think he recognizes me? How very optimistic of you, Dr. Wells."
Falling back on sarcasm was his only anchor right now. Scarlet had lost his memories. Barry… had no idea who he was, where he was, who Len was. And he was killing himself because he had no control.
"The two of you share something, Mr. Snart. I know you don't like to give it a name, but you know it's there. You can tame the forces raging through him. Barry mentioned how you can decompress him. You are his counterpoint, his opposite and equal, so yes, we hope he recognizes you."
Len's mind was churning, wading through the information, wondering what the hell they expected of him.
"And if he doesn't?" he asked, sounding pragmatic.
The two scientists looked equally serious and Len groaned silently to himself.
Well, crap.
The sight that greeted him was… terrifying. No one was inside the isolation chamber but the one patient on the bed. Barry was out of his suit – and actually out of most clothes. His upper body was bare except for the bandages wrapped around most of it, and he was wearing sweat pants.
Len watched the unconscious, or sleeping, man for a while, making up his mind. Now and then the whole form blurred, opening barely closed wounds, blood staining the wrappings. Barry's form strained against the Speed Force's relentless pull, clearly suffering and in pain. He could almost see the raging forces, so violent in nature, so unmoored and viciously sharp.
It was terrible to watch. Worse than anything he had ever seen happen to The Flash. A lot worse.
The half-naked form suddenly shot off the bed in a flurry of lightning and collided with the isolation room's wall. It was a harsh impact, making Len wince and take a step forward before he could catch himself.
Barry lay curled up on the floor, bleeding, broken, shaking.
Caitlin looked horrified; pale, gray around the edges, hands clenched into fists. Wells was just as bad at hiding his shared pain. Both looked like they wanted to go inside, to help, but they didn't.
Len knew he wouldn't leave. He just couldn't. He would help; the need to help was thrumming through him in a way he had never experienced before. He wasn't some spiritual, empathic Guide. He hadn't bonded to Barry Allen.
But something did connect them.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, ran through his head in an endless loop.
"One condition," he said out loud.
Snow looked disgusted. "Of course you start with demands!"
"One… condition…" Len repeated slowly, then switched his hard gaze from Caitlin to Wells. "I'm going in alone. Only alone. No cameras, no surveillance of any kind."
Wells nodded, even though Dr. Snow voiced her protests.
"We agree. But I must remind you that it is highly dangerous," Wells told him with a reasonable voice. "We would have no way knowing if you needed our assistance."
"What if he hurts Barry?" Caitlin interjected.
"Your concern for my well-being tickles me, Dr. Snow," he drawled.
"If Mr. Snart had wanted to harm Mr. Allen, he wouldn't be here," Harrison said calmly. "You are aware that we won't be able to help you in any way, Leonard. Should Barry lose it, should he harm you, we can't get to you."
"Doc, you wanted me here because you think he recognizes me, so how about you let me work? You have my word of honor I won't do anything to... defile your precious hero."
Snow didn't look happy, but Wells finally nodded his agreement. So surveillance was switched off.
And Leonard Snart walked into the isolation room of the Pipeline. Unarmed.