This Delicate Thing We've Made

by spacemonkey766

Barry never expected to find love again, certainly not with Leonard Snart. But falling for each other turned out to be the easy part. But was it sustainable, was it destined to burn out as quickly as it began, or were they in for something that would end up being the thing in this world that made each man both feel more at home than they'd ever been in their lives? [ColdFlash]

17. Zero

This Delicate Thing We've Made

genre: Romance

rated: M

---

Chapter 17: Zero

"The road is long, so keep your faith
And when your zero has come, it's gonna be alright
The road is long, so just hang on
It's gonna be alright
Oh, you'll be strong, you'll hold on
You will get through it
And when you can't do it, I'll make you better than that"

---

Waking up was slow, gradual the first few times. It took him three days after being rescued to finally open his eyes, not truly waking up yet, never long enough to string a coherent sentence together. Barry could hear voices and movement of the people around him, the beeps of the machines surrounding him but he was still lost that drifting sensation of between awake and asleep. He let himself stay in that drifty place for a few long minutes, enjoying just being warm, feeling comfortable, and pain-free. It was a nice change from the hell he normally felt anytime he'd woken up in the medbay these last few years without the aid of painkillers. He never stayed awake for more than a few minutes at first, long enough to see that Len was okay or that Joe was okay, drifting back before he could ask about what happened with or how bad it was.

On the fourth day, after two days of unconsciousness and one day of sporadic brief awakenings as he fought through the sedatives and got a little stronger, he started to come into awareness. The first time he truly woke up it was like waking from a nightmare, nothing gentle about it like the previous times. Barry's heart rate skyrocketed, his breathing quick and heavy as awareness came back, as his memory flooded with flashes of pain, immobility, darkness but unable to point to the cause of it.

He cried out. He tried to lift his head but the movement made him painfully aware of the state of his body. He grimaced, his head falling back to the pillow, unable to move anything else, his body feeling like one dull ache. It had to look as awful as it felt to cause the exhausted and worn look his father wore, dark circles surrounding his eyes that Barry desperately sought answers in. Joe's dark brown eyes were steady on Barry's and although they were tired, they were firm, solid in their strength and support as Barry's pleaded for help.

"I got you," Joe assured, providing a steel solid comfort to Barry whose heart slowed, breathing eased as he found himself grounded in Joe's presence, just like so many times before in his life. When Joe shifted slightly. Barry panicked and reached up to shakily grab the hand rubbing soft circles on his chest, fearing Joe intended to leave.

"It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," Joe tried to smile but Barry had seen that kind of smile from Joe before. He was doing it for his sake, trying to comfort him but the smile unable to reach his eyes because it was shrouded in either sadness, concern, or a mix of both.

"Hurt," Barry managed, his voice breathy, weak.

"Yeah, you're hurt pretty bad, son," Joe responded, shifting his hand to lay over Barry's on his chest, mindful of the bandages still wrapped around the palms as he gripped it reassuringly.

Barry wanted to respond but couldn't find the words. With an impatient frown and slight shake of his head, Barry squeezed Joe's hand, needing Joe to understand what he was asking. Joe's face shifted to confusion and then softened in realization. Barry wasn't asking about himself. Joe sighed, moving his other hand to lay gently across Barry's forehead.

"Everyone's fine," Joe watched Barry's eyes close in relief, a tear escaping, its trail down the side of his face stopped only by the bandage on his cheek. "I'm fine, Len's fine, Iris is fine, everyone's fine. We're all just worried about you, kiddo."

Barry swallowed a few times, letting the tears fall as Joe continued to tell him he was safe, everyone was safe. Barry said little else, just let Joe's words soothe over him as stroked back his hair, focusing on his breathing until it evened out and he fell back asleep gentler than he'd woken up.

The second time he woke fully it was with a gasp.

"Barry," he heard a voice to his right say, saw in his clouded peripheral vision Len raise from the seat beside the bed to sit on the edge of the mattress. "Barry, hey. It's okay."

Len took Barry's right hand, prying it gently loose from the fitted sheet, Barry only just realizing he'd fisted the material tightly, holding so hard his palm hurt. Len held Barry's hand between both of his, gentle yet firm, warm and comforting. Barry turned his head on the pillow and looked at Len.

"You're here," Barry sighed, a smile on his face. Len suddenly felt a surge of guilt. He hadn't been here when Barry woke up a couple of hours ago, having decided he needed a hot shower to relax his muscles after falling asleep for the third night in a row in the chair by Barry's bedside. Of course, the minute he left Barry woke up in pain according to Joe.

But Len's self-pity party was interrupted when Barry's smile of relief dropped as his expression turned to panic, looking around the room wildly and Len was sure he wasn't seeing where he actually was. "Where's Joe? You have to leave! Len, please, Mardon-"

"Scarlet, you're safe," Len cut him off, moving one hand to gently but firmly grip the side of Barry's neck, the pressure forcing Barry's wild eyes to look at him. Caitlin had said the confusion was normal considering how long he'd been out, the painkillers, and the trauma he'd suffered. It hurt Len's heart though knowing every time Barry woke up, he had to suffer through that fear each time. "Mardon's locked up. We brought you home. He can't hurt you anymore."

Barry focused on Len, tried to calm his breathing, feeling safe with Len's grounding hands. When he calmed, his eyes searched the room again, slower, taking it in and seeing he was safe in the medbay at S.T.A.R. Labs. His hands and wrists were in thickly wrapped bandages, the left one in a sling. His abdomen was also wrapped to support his ribs and patches of gauze covered various cuts, the knife wounds stitched up. The head of the bed he was in was elevated, probably so he could breathe easier.

"He didn't hurt you? Joe?" Barry looked to Len again, voice shaking.

"No one else got hurt," Len reassured and by the sad tone in his voice, Barry could tell this wasn't the first time he'd been asked this question by him, not remembering the conversation they had in the cellar before losing consciousness.

"He didn't get to Iris or Lisa, right?" Barry pleaded and the look in Len's eyes told him this too was not a new question. It was a look he'd seen before, exasperation not because he was repeating himself, but because once again Barry could only focus on everyone else.

"No, Barry, you were the only one he hurt," it was Len's turn to plead, begging Barry to focus on himself, on his recovery. But he instantly regretted it when guilt flashed across Barry's face. Len leaned forward, two small feather-light kisses to Barry's still cracked lips before gently pressing their foreheads together.

"I'm sorry," Len sighed, shoulders slumping. "It's just...I was afraid I'd lose you, Scarlet."

Len's hand slid down from his neck to rest over his heart and Barry can see the tears forming in his eyes before he closed them. Barry had stopped being surprised by Len's willingness to open up quite some time ago. A couple of weeks after they started seeing each other as they watched the sunset with expensive wine, Len had told him how difficult it was for him to be open and authentic but wanted to with Barry. But even though Len shared his emotions freely now, he rarely got overtly emotional, wasn't a crier. And that was okay with Barry because as far he was concerned, he cried enough for both of them. So to see Len tear up, especially in this quiet moment between them where it was just brought on by a surge of concern and relief, Barry wished he had two good arms to wrap around his boyfriend and hold him tightly.

"But you didn't," Barry's voice was barely a whisper, turning his hand over to lace their fingers together. Len wouldn't open his eyes though, but Barry was relieved he didn't pull away from him physically, his hand still enveloped in his, foreheads leaning against each other, Len's thumb brushing along his collarbone as his hand rested over Barry's heart. Barry needed to pull him back to him, bring him back from his place of guilt. To do that though, Barry knew he had to lean into it first. "Len, please look at me. I need you here with me right now."

Len's eyes blinked open at Barry's broken voice, his hand moving from his heart back to curl around his neck. Barry knew it was a cheap shot but he didn't want Len to get lost in his guilt, just like Len didn't want Barry to lose himself in his fear.

Barry's fingers tightened around Len's own, Len's eyes were moist with unshed tears but Barry could feel his tears spilling over his cheeks. Barry knew he'd been unconscious probably for days but he felt like he hadn't stopped crying since he finally allowed himself to after Mardon attempted to molest him. And the memory of that made him shudder and Barry suddenly needed to replace that feeling. He leaned forward the few centimeters between them, a soft, meeting of lips that made his breath catch in his throat, made the memory, the pain go away for just a moment. Len tilted his head, unable to stop himself from trying to deepen the kiss when Barry suddenly pulled away with a sob.

"I'm sorry," Barry cried as he buried his face in Len's neck and Len's moved his hand to wrap around his back, pulling him close, gentle with Barry's injured body, their interlocked hands pressed between them. Len's chin settled on top of his head and finally gave into own tears as he held Barry. Eventually, Barry cried himself to sleep in Len's arms, reluctant to ease him back against the bed because after coming so close to losing him, Len didn't ever want to let him go again.

By day six it felt like everyone had settled, including Barry. They still took turns sitting in the medbay, Len a near-permanent fixture. Barry could stay awake for a few hours at a time but still needed quite a bit of rest as his healing powers slowly but finally started to kick in.

"He was starved and dehydrated. To get him back to his metabolic baseline it's going to take a few days of intravenous fluids. I started him on nutrients but when he's more alert and awake we need to get him to eat. Protein shakes, soft high-calorie foods to ease his stomach and not shock his system," Caitlin had explained to them in the beginning. "His healing powers may kick in before we get his nutrition up to where it needs to be. If that happens his body will have an increased demand for energy by trying to heal itself and will feed off what it can. We have to gradually increase his intake of calories, protein, carbohydrates, fluids, and vitamins and minerals. Our aim is to reduce the risk of developing complications by flooding his system too quickly."

Barry didn't complain, only when Cisco brought Len and Caitlin Big Belly Burger. When Caitlin gave him a less than sympathetic look as he groaned at the smell of the take out, Barry held up his right hand in defense, the left still in the sling.

"I know, I know," Barry sighed. Eating anything too heavy at this point could make him vomit and based on how his body felt, nothing about that felt worth it. The bruises began to fade, the smaller cuts now thin fine lines. But he knew he wasn't anywhere near his metabolic baseline to have then energy his body needed to heal the shoulder separation, the stab wounds in his hands, or the shattered knee. Although it didn't usually take him this long to start healing, it wasn't an unfamiliar situation. And even though he knew how fiercely his body would reject even a fry or two, it didn't mean the wafting scents of his favorite take-out weren't enticing. Luckily, the boredom of not being able to eat with them and the conversation between Len, Cait, and Cisco lulled him into a slumber that left him blissfully ignorant of what he was missing in those white paper bags.

It would be a week before Caitlin would even entertain the idea of letting him leave the medbay. They had made a deal that if he could keep at least one thousand calories down without getting sick and his levels were more than half of his normal baseline when she tested them at the end of the day, then she would consider releasing him from her watchful eye.

Halfway through the day, he'd successfully managed to keep down broth and Jell-O; so far things were starting to look good for Barry. He did pass out though after his yogurt, drifting in and out as Iris sat by his bedside reading him the "exclusive interview" with the Flash she'd written about why the city hadn't seen the hero in almost two weeks. It was a story about the scarlet speedster recovering, an inspiring exposé about how even heroes need to practice self-care. Ever since Barry was young, Iris took a vested interest in supporting mental health causes and she was excited to write a piece that showcased the cause in the framework of Central City's favorite hero.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been out or at what point in her article he'd fallen asleep. But as he began to drift back awake he heard her say,"Hey Len." He was still in that drifty space, trying to pull himself out of it, wanting to open his eyes to join the conversation. Especially since he wanted to know how it went at CCPD for his boyfriend.

"How is he?" Len asked, and Barry could have sworn he heard what sounded like a kiss on a cheek as he came closer to where Iris sat on the bed. The idea of his boyfriend and Iris being that comfortable with each other would have filled his heart with joy if he wasn't so damn frustrated with himself as he tried to get his body to cooperate with the desire to wake up.

"He's been asleep mostly since you've been gone. How was being at the police station and giving a statement rather than being questioned?" Barry heard the cheeky smile in her voice.

"Awkward. I think I prefer being arrested," Len answered back, a joke but with a high level of truth. He sensed his presence as Len leaned over to kiss him on the forehead, brushing back his hair. It felt wonderful but did nothing to help Barry wake up. "But not anywhere near the kind of reception I got last time I was there."

"Barry's kind of the little brother of the CCPD. I mean we practically grew up there before he even started working as a CSI. Dad probably gave them all the 'what's what' talk about you and him," Iris replied and Barry heard the closing of her laptop as she gave Len her full attention.

"Well Joe gave his statement, and now I've given mine. They're eager to move forward with the case against Mardon. They're talking about coming by tomorrow to get Barry's before Caitlin lets him leave. If she lets him leave," He could hear Len pacing as he spoke. Whether it was anxiety from where he'd just come from or overprotectiveness about Barry having to tell his story, he couldn't be sure. But he knew his boyfriend was on edge and the urge to comfort him was enough to make the fog finally lift.

"He's doing a lot better, I think he'll be okay to go home tomorrow," Iris tried to reassure. "Beside's after a week of worrying about him, he can just turn those puppy eyes on Caitlin and she'll totally cave."

"I don't have puppy eyes," Barry spoke, eyes closed, voice rough and heavy.

"Hey," Iris said, her hands quickly reaching to hold his with a gentle grasp between them, her thumb gliding soothing lines over the edge of the bandages, "you're supposed to be asleep so we can talk about you."

"So sorry to interrupt," Barry smiled lazily at her, eyes finally peeling open. "And that I fell asleep on you. I liked the article, what I heard of it anyway."

"Well, direct quotes from the Flash were a big help so thanks for the exclusive," she winked at him. She looked over her shoulder to Len who was itching to move closer but not wanting to crowd him. "I'm gonna go get a cup of coffee from the lounge and I'm going to bring you back some more yogurt and maybe a banana. Exciting right?"

"My favorite," he chuckled at her over-enthusiastic grin. She smiled down at him, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the cheek. He whispered a quiet 'thank you' for her consideration to give him and Len the room and was rewarded with another wink before she pulled away. He watched as she placed a hand on Len's arm before leaving them alone in the medbay.

"Hey," Barry called out to him, trying to get his right arm to take his weight as he struggled to sit up. Len made quick strides to his bedside and tried to help him, warm hands steadying him.

"Hey relax, not so fast," Len scolded as Barry settled back against the pillow, more comfortable in his upright position. Len not realizing he even made a pun told Barry just how anxious he was.

"If I move any slower Cisco's going to start calling me Turtle instead of the Flash," Barry joked, patting the empty spot on the mattress, motioning to Len. He obliged, smirked at him as he sat at the edge of the bed but Barry could tell his heart wasn't really in it. He could see his lover's eyes taking in his every movement, watching for obvious and not so obvious signs of pain; he didn't miss how Len's eyes lingered on Barry's bandaged hand as it moved from the mattress to Len's thigh.

"I'm okay, Len," Barry said softly, "promise."

"I know you are," Len sighed, his eyes lifting to meet his, "I'm just not used to...this."

This. Being the worrier, feeling helpless, loving someone so fully that their pain becomes your pain. All he wanted to do was take Barry out of here, away and never come back, keep him from anything ever happening to him again and do nothing but be together. Just them, only them.

"Well, you're doing great," Barry smiled up at him, trying to reassure him that even though Len wasn't used to it, having him here meant more to Barry than he could know. "The only way you could be doing any better was if you were in this stupid bed with me instead of sleeping in that chair, which I know for a fact is not comfortable."

Len just snorted in agreement, unable to help himself as he smoothed the rumpled blanket over Barry's body, tucking it more securely around his waist as it had come undone when he had tried to sit up. Barry couldn't help the chuckle that escaped at Len's ministrations and Len glared at him before Barry brought his hand from Len's thigh to the base of Len's neck.

Len clasped the forearm by his cheek as Barry's fingers tried to find purchase at the back of Len's head, rubbing the scalp with his fingertips, relishing the familiar feel of his lover's buzzed hair. Barry pulled Len down to his lips. It was a soft delicate brush at first but Barry tugged at his neck till it was crushing, hungry. Somewhere over the noise of his own heartbeat and Len's deep breath, Barry could hear his heart monitor speed up, ruining the moment. Len groaned against his lips as he broke the kiss with a smile.
"Not to ruin the moment any further, but how did it go?" Barry settled back against the pillows, trying not to convey how anxious he was to hear about Len's time at CCPD.

"A lot different than the last time I was there," Len joked, crossing one leg over the other as he made himself more comfortable on the edge of the bed, facing Barry. "For starters, I gave my statement in the captain's office instead of cuffed in an interrogation room which was slightly more comfortable. Not by much, though."

Barry snorted. He tried to imagine Len in Joe's office, probably casing it for all the ways he could break-in in the future while giving his statement. But the humor died as he watched Len pick at lint off the bedsheet, razor focus attention to something Barry was sure didn't require it.

Barry knew that Len didn't want to talk about him, about his experience. He knew Len wanted to know more of what happened to Barry, what they hadn't seen in the hours between video calls, or had to piece together from seeing his wounds. They knew he was shot in the knee but why, that his shoulder was separated but how. Barry overheard that tomorrow they wanted to take his statement but Barry wasn't looking forward to. With the pain medication, he'd been able to keep the memories from haunting his dreams too much, had not been awake long enough to think about it too deeply, and been distracted by the round the clock visitors he'd had to not be alone with his thoughts. Without giving voice to it he could almost pretend he was laid up from just another meta of the week. Almost. The looks on the faces of the people he loved, the worry, and the fear, that kept it from actually happening. He needed to talk to them about what happened, for his own sake as much as theirs.

"Barry, I think you and I need to talk," Len broke the silence, finally stopping his task of ridding the blanket of non-existent lint to focus on Barry now. Apparently Len was lost in the same train of thought Barry had been just moments ago.

"When we got you back-" Len halted, trying to find the words. Barry had never seen him falter for words before, even if he was having trouble expressing emotion, he was thoughtful with his words. Either anger or frustration would mask when the man couldn't say what he wanted, a quick jab or sharp comment, an eloquent turn of phrase or waxing poetic even. "There was a video Mardon sent me."

"Len, I'm so sorry," Barry interrupted, his voice hitching. The video of him having to disavow his love for Joe and Len had probably been the most painful of his experiences, worse than the physical torture of the waterboarding, something he hadn't even told them about yet. But a close second, something that would haunt Barry for a while he suspected, was the video he was dreading to discuss with Len.

"What could you possibly be apologizing for?" Len looked at him, horrified.

"I had hoped...that he did it just to mess with me. I didn't want you to have to see that. I hate that he sent it to you," Barry couldn't stop the rawness in his voice, hearing the ping of the phone as the recording button was hit, as loud in his ear as if it was happening again.

"This isn't about me, Scarlet. hate that you had to go through that," Len scooted further up the bed from Barry's hip to where the mattress bent, his body as close to Barry's as the position would allow. "You have nothing, nothing, to apologize for, you hear me?"

Barry just nodded, not trusting his voice to betray him.

"He sent it to just me. I didn't share it, didn't think you'd want anyone else to see," Len picked up Barry's hand and held it between his, tracing the fingers and curves, not in comfort, but in grounding. Barry recognized the difference, had felt that urge many times in his life, knew what the tactile sensation of his lover's hand in his did to calm him. He'd never experienced Len do it, wondering if maybe Len had picked up the habit from him. "But when they were documenting your injuries, I told them about it. Joe, Cecile, and Caitlin."

"I know," Barry dipped his head, catching Len's eye. "Caitlin apologized to me yesterday while she was changing my bandages, said she felt like she was violating my privacy by having to perform a sexual assault kit."

It was only yesterday, a rare moment when Len had left the medbay to do something so mundane as relieve himself. Caitlin had told him to take his time as she had to do an exam to check on the progress of his healing and redress the bandaging. It had just been Barry and her in the medbay, halfway through the exam in tears she apologized, to which Barry was quick to quash her guilt. He was a CSI. He'd performed them himself, unfortunately, and knew just how important they were. He also reassured her that it never got to that, that Mardon had done nothing past touching him. Barry realized he had not revealed that to anyone else, not even his partner.

So Barry told him what he experienced, the video playing in Len's mind as Barry described it. He told Len that it hadn't gone further, even though Mardon's lewd comments about his mouth and exploring hands had Barry terrified that it would. He knew that just because it hadn't escalated to rape didn't invalidate the fact that he'd been molested but it was something he would have to process, to deal with, just like everything else Mardon had done to him.

"I want to be with you when you give your statement tomorrow," Len said as the topic shifted. "I don't want you to be alone when you have to relive it."

"I won't be alone. Joe and Cecile will be here with me when I give my statement to the detective," Barry assured, squeezing the hand that still held his.

"Fine. What I mean is I don't want to leave you alone again," Len squeezed back. "I wasn't there for you when you went through it."

Barry didn't even try to talk him out of it. Even if he wanted to spare Len hearing the recount of what happened, he would end up telling him anyway. Maybe it was best for Len to hear it all, the truth, rather than Barry trying to share it later, knowing he would try to spare the details in an effort to protect Len. His boyfriend didn't need his protection, would probably be offended by it, and the notion of Len being there with him as he relived every detail for the first time since living it, it brought him comfort.

And it did. The next day, Caitlin gave him the go-ahead to go home after a final checkup right before the interview. An hour after, Joe, Cecile, and Detective Rowell sat around the bed in the medbay. Len sat beside him, holding his right hand the entire time as he told them of how he'd been caught off guard in the alley when he thought someone was in distress. He told them about waking up in the house, the videos, the threats about Iris and Lisa. There were long pauses of silence as Barry would gather his thoughts. He managed to keep his composure as best he could as he recounted the details they weren't aware of like the escape attempt that resulted in his shoulder injury, the waterboarding to get him to deliver the painful video disavowing Joe and Len. Tears escaped but his voice remained steady as Rowell took notes, a recording device on the bed next to Barry picking up his every word. As he came to the end, after Len had arrived and Mardon knocked his would-be-rescuer out, Barry spoke of the threats and taunting Mardon had made while trussing him to the wall, the knives being stabbed through his hands and Mardon using him as a cutting board, he could feel the slight tremble in the hand that held his, knowing Len's blood was boiling. But he stayed silent, a quiet strength that Barry could pull from in the two hours it took to tell his story.

When they were finished, Cecile offered to walk Rowel out, her own face wet with tears that had silently fallen during Barry's story. When the door closed behind them as they left the medbay, Barry collapsed against the bed in exhaustion. He was relieved he hadn't crumbled into a mess of sobs like he thought he might but now that it was over, Barry felt his body trying to give in. Quiet tears rolled down his cheeks as he tried to calm his breathing. He'd blame it on the pain meds starting to not work anymore due to his metabolism beginning to kick in, but he knew as his body shook trying to keep himself together, that the only thing to blame was Mark Mardon.

"I'm going to kill him," Len growled, arms crossed over his chest.

"Not before I get to him," Joe clenched his fists.

"If you're only gonna end up killing him then I just went through all that for nothing," Barry joked with a sigh, the tears still falling as he placed a shaky right hand to rub at his eyes.

Joe and Len turned to look at each other before turning to watch Barry. The room was silent but heavy, both men standing unsure of what Barry needed right now.

"I'm fine, guys," Barry said, answering their unasked question, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm before finally looking between them. "I'm just ready to get the hell out of here."

"I'll send Caitlin in," Joe stated, approaching the bed. He leaned over the bed, resting his hand atop of Barry's head. Len watched as Barry looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, instant relief at his father's proximity. "I'm gonna take Cecile home, she wants to get the house ready. Then I'll be back to pick you guys up."

"Thanks, Joe," Barry sighed, giving him a half-smile, about all he could muster up at the moment. Joe stroked Barry's hairline, a long appraising look at his son as if to decide for himself if Barry really was okay, lingering for a moment before pulling away. Barry leaned further back, eyes closed with another sigh, his right arm reaching across to cradle the left arm still in the sling. Joe watched him before turning to leave. He gave Len a nod and then jerked his head slightly, motioning towards Barry, before exiting the medbay.

Len strode over slowly, arms falling to his side as he finally uncrossed them. He grabbed one of the rolling stools and dragged it to the head of the bed on Barry's left. He leaned forward till his elbows touched his knees, hands rubbing at his face. He knew what some of what Barry had been through but hearing it from his lips, it shook him. He'd dealt with trauma a good portion of his life, but other than his father threatening Lisa's life with a bomb implanted her head, Len had never know anger, fear, pain, or the desire to make someone suffer as much as he did knowing what Mardon had put Barry through.

"You think so loudly," Barry's voice interrupted his inner thoughts. Len dropped his hands and lifted his head, hazel eyes staring back at him, smirking.

Len blinked, "not as loud as you snore."

Barry stuck his tongue at him and Len rolled the stool a little closer.

"I can't wait to snore in your ear so loud tonight," Barry glared but its not as effective as he hoped with drying eyes. Len smiled at him, reaching a hand to brush back the hair.

"I can't wait either," Len smiled and Barry's glare melted into contentment. "I can't wait to hold you in my arms tonight."

Barry learned up and Len closed the distance with a soft kiss, Barry sighing against him. He felt so exposed, so raw just minutes ago after reliving what he went through. But just a few moments with Len, a few gentle touches and looking into his eyes, and Barry suddenly felt safe, grounded, content. He felt home.

"Len, about tonight," Barry started, biting his lip. He knew Len wouldn't give him grief with what he was about to ask him to do, but he hoped he wasn't asking too much of the man. "Usually when I need to heal and rest for more than a day or two, I stay at Joe's. It's just healing, I need a lot of rest and a lot of food and I can't keep up with it all myself. And when I was with Iris she couldn't cook but don't tell her I said that. Not to mention the stairs with the apartment-"

"Barry," Len tried to interrupt the rambling but Barry continued frantically.

"And Joe worries, and he worries less when his 'kids are under his roof'. Plus having the help when I can't physically get around so easy. I know it's asking a lot-"

"Scarlet," Len said a little firmer, and Barry's mouth shut with clack looking expectantly up at him. "We'll stay with Joe as long as you need or want."

"Are you sure?"

"I know what that house means to you. It's your safe place," Len brushed back the hair, trying to soothe the other man's concern for his feelings. He couldn't say he was thrilled at the idea of staying at a cops house, but this Joe West, the man who saved Barry's life when he had no one. Len was perfectly aware of what the West home meant to his boyfriend. Barry had told him that after his mom died, it was the only home he had, that after losing everything, it gave him something. No matter whatever happened in his life, he knew he could always come back to that house, to his family.

"Even if it means sharing a bed with the captain of the CCPD's son in his own house?" Barry smirked at him, trying to make light to distract from the swell of gratitude he felt.

"Oh, Scarlet, you know me. That kind of thing is half of the fun," Len winked and was rewarded with a small laugh from Barry, a sound he hadn't heard since before Barry was taken and Len tried not to get pulled under by the wave of just how close he was to losing him. "I told you before, I don't care we are. Home is wherever I'm with you. Even if it's at the house of a CCPD captain."

Barry's face became somber suddenly and Len watched as he swallowed nervously.

"Len," he said softly. "The house."

Len took a deep inhale, exhaled deeply.

"It was supposed to be a surprise. A nice little bungalow that needed a lot of TLC. You liked it so much from what you saw online, I put the offer on it so we didn't run the risk of losing it," Len confessed, fingers absently stroking Barry's hair. "I thought you and I..." he sighed, "I withdrew the offer the day we got you back."

"Thank god," Barry laughed in relief before leaning closer to Len, love radiating from his features. "But thank you..that's one of the sweetest things anyone's ever done for me."

"I just wanted to give you that home you were looking for," Len said, apologetic, hopelessly in love and wanting nothing more than to give Barry everything he could ever want. But Barry just smiled and gave Len that look again, the one that made Len feel like he'd hung the moon and stars themselves.

"You already have."

---

Barry felt better than he had in days. His hyper healing had finally kicked it, albeit slower than usual. He'd finally hit the three thousand calorie mark, less than a third of his baseline but it was still progress, enough progress for Caitlin to sign off on him going home.

"Your muscles will feel weak, your mood may be low, poor concentration, and you may have difficulty keeping warm for a little while longer. Just listen to your body, eat what you can, and try not to overdo it," Caitlin had warned before he was wheeled into the elevator, unable to opt for a crutch to support his right knee because of the distance between the Cortex and where Joe's SUV was parked outside. He was still tired most of the time but Caitlin said that was to be expected.
The slow healing was taking all his energy but at least he was healing. His hands were still wrapped in bandages from the stab wounds but his wrists were healed, the raised white flesh of scaring the only remnant that would fade soon. His ribs were still wrapped with a compression bandage but the stab wounds and cuts had all healed. His shoulder was mostly healed, out of the immobilizer, and in a simple sling that Caitlin said he could take off when he got home but to use it when sore. His knee still had a brace on it, the slowest injury to heal. He could walk on it, albeit with a limp but not for too long. The wheelchair was used to get him to the car but Caitlin said he could walk on it around the house since it was short distances with a crutch to keep the pressure off for when his arm was out of the sling.

The knee was the injury that worried him the most. He was a CSI, he knew the human body, knew the damage gunshots caused. The knee joint was a bundle of bone, cartilage, and muscle fibers, nerve bundles. Because of all that in one little package, an injury to the knee was among some of the worst pain a person could tolerate, especially with the fact that it provided mobility. But it wasn't the pain that worried Barry. It was taking longer than the rest of his injuries to heal and the fear was starting to creep in there might be permanent damage. Barry wasn't sure if he could deal with that, not his leg. He needed it at full mobility to run like he did. But he tried not to get lost in that. He wasn't great at following instructions when it came to self-care and taking it easy, but if it meant his leg healing perfectly, he would listen. And between Cecile, Joe, and Len all staying with him for the next few days, he knew he really wouldn't have much of a choice.

He was feeling more alive than he had in days, even though the short trip from S.T.A.R. Labs to Joe's left him tired. He sat in the back seat of Joe's SUV with Len, listed to the side with his head on Len's shoulder, snoring softly. He had to lean heavily on Joe as he made his way up the steps of the porch, Len trailing behind them with their bags in hand, ready to drop them in an instant if Barry lost his footing. He'd napped on the couch with his head held up by a propped up elbow on the armrest as Joe helped Cecile in the kitchen prepare dinner, Len and Iris chatting quietly as they sat with him in the living room. Barry ate two platefuls of Cecile's Grandma Millie's Chicken and Dumplings, her recipes rivaling Joe's Grandma Esther. It wasn't as much as he could normally pack away, but his appetite was coming back, his speedster equilibrium begging to normalize, no longer getting sick as he increased his caloric intake.

But even with the increased metabolism and the healing, Barry's body was still trying to catch up and it was wiping him out as he tried to get back to his normal baseline. So it was early to bed, not long after dinner, with a kiss on the cheek from Cecile and the offer to stay as long as he needed, Barry hugged Joe and Iris goodnight as Len helped him take the steps towards his old bedroom. And even though it was only eight p.m., Len didn't reemerge, instead staying with Barry as the healing man slept.

The rules were the same, regardless of how old his children got or who their partners were. If they were under his roof and were 'entertaining' guests, the bedroom door stayed open at least three inches. It gave him peace of mind and it also allowed him to check in on them, something he'd been doing for as long he could remember. And when they were hurting, when they were struggling, Joe couldn't sleep till he knew his kids were at least safe and resting.

Hurting and struggling didn't seem to be words strong enough to describe what his son was going through. He was targeted as Barry Allen, not the Flash. He was tortured for being Barry Allen, not the Flash. He was punished for being Joe West's son, victimized for being the partner of Leonard Snart. Tied and beaten, held captive for days, used as nothing more than a device to cause pain to the people he loved. He may be one of the greatest heroes their Earth had ever known, but prior to his powers, he was just a kid trying to make the world a better place in any way he could. He wasn't an officer or a soldier, wasn't trained in combat or prepared for battle. No matter what he'd been through, what he came up against, there was no way to be ready for it. And sometimes these things caught up to his son. Things like being betrayed by a man he trusted, by watching his father killed in front of him, by being beaten and dragged around the city by his neck, by a haunting visage of a broken version of himself hurting the ones he loved. It was the things that followed him, that woke Barry in the night because even heroes get haunted by shadows. And Joe just knew that being taken, beaten, his pain used to cause pain to his father and lover, that would be something added to the list of things that tormented Barry.

Joe saw it the first night at the house. It was around nine when Iris left, having considered staying the night in case they needed her, in case Barry needed her, but with Len here she decided it was no longer her place to be the first responder to comfort or aid Barry. It was a bittersweet revelation but she was at peace bowing out and passing the privilege of being Barry's protector to his new love. It was around ten when Cecile had gone to check on Jenna with a promise to meet Joe upstairs. As he made his way to the second floor, he stopped at the first room on the right, soft steps not alerting his hovering presence as he lingered in the door frame and peered in through the barely cracked door of Barry's old bedroom.

The bedside lamp was on, casting a warm glow over the otherwise dark room. Len and Barry lay on their sides facing each other, chest to chest, a thin sheet pulled up to just above their waists and Joe could see through the odd curvature that their legs were entwined beneath. But there was no uncomfortableness at witnessing the closeness of the two men because Joe could hear the muffled sniffling, all too familiar with the sound of his son trying to keep himself from falling apart. The light of the lamp revealed Barry's face damp with tears as he pressed his cheek against Len's neck, his arms trapped between their bodies as his fists clutched at the front of Len's T-shirt. Len had one arm wrapped around Barry's waist and the other bracing Barry's spine as he held him close against him, quiet whispers as soft as the crying.

"Baby, it's okay," he could hear Len say in a hushed voice, laced in as much despair as the voice that answered back.

"No, it's not," Barry sniffed, his voice shaking. "I should be stronger than this. I've been through worse."

"You've been through different," Len replied, hand rubbing up and down Barry's spine through the fabric of his sweatshirt. "You can't fault yourself for being human."

"This is part of my job though," Barry argued, the hitch in his voice betraying his conviction as the tears still flowed.

"It isn't," Len replied, gently grabbing Barry's chin with his right hand, tilting his head up so he could look in his eyes. "Nothing about this is part of your job. You weren't taken because you're the Flash. You were taken because of who loves you, not because you're a hero. You were hurt to hurt the people who love you, tortured because of what you mean to us. He took you to punish me, hurt you to punish your father. You were a victim in this Scarlet, plain and simple."

"He took away my powers Len and he didn't even know," Barry rasped, emotions threatening to overtake him. It wasn't so much the physical torture, although that had been traumatizing enough. It was when he was left alone. Unable to get free, left there in silence and pain and fear of the threats to Len and Joe, of wondering if next time Mardon came back would it be with Iris or Lisa and he'd watch them be put through what he had been. It was psychological torture, waiting for Len and Joe to be brought in, seeing them one last time before he was killed in front of them, knowing Mardon was going to kill them next. He would take the physical pain any day over that agony. "I'm supposed to be a hero. I couldn't even get myself out of there."

"We all need saving some time, even heroes," Len's voice hitched, heartbreaking at the pain his love was in. "You've been saving me every day since we first met."

Barry's hands flexed against the shirt at Len's chest, eyes blinking rapidly as he gazed up at Len as he spoke before sobs wracked his body. He knew Len was right but it made it worse somehow. If he could convince himself he was overreacting, maybe he thought he could get through what was done to him but he was lying to himself. He ducked his head back into the crook of Len's neck as he cried, the visions of his dreams haunting him, not because they were nightmares but vivid memories of pain, immobility, and fear.

"You've been through so much in your life, emotionally, physically, mentally. You're a survivor," Len continued, curling his hand into Barry's hair, tucking him close as his other hand continued rubbing soothingly up and down his spine. "There are just some things, though they don't seem to be the worst we've been through, that just can wreck us. But you'll get through it, I promise. You'll survive this, too. And I'm going to be with you every step of the way."

Joe heard a broken 'I love you' in response whispered through tears, watched Len wrap his arms impossibly tighter around Barry as he said 'I love you' back, pressing a kiss to the top of Barry's head. Joe then felt a warm hand on his shoulder interrupt his spectating as Cecile's hand traveled down his arm to grab his hand, pulling him down the hall. Joe didn't hesitate, having seen with his own eyes that his son was safe tonight.

On the second night, Joe woke with a start, a terrible dream interrupting his sleep with a gasp. No, not a dream, a memory warped by fear and guilt, of finding Barry pinned to the wall with blades in his hands, gagged, chin to chest, a chest not rising with shaky inhales and exhales, Joe too late to save him. He brought a hand to rub at his face, pulling in a deep breath to calm his shaky nerves. He turned to see Cecile still sleeping peacefully, grateful he had not woken her up.

He got out of bed, pulling on his robe with the intention to putter down to the kitchen for a shot of something to calm his nerves and hopefully help him back to sleep. He hadn't mentioned to Barry or Len this morning what he'd witnessed the night before. Over the course of this week, the shift in seeing Leonard Snart as criminal to the man who loved his son took him by surprise. But after seeing how he held his son in his deepest grief, it was the final piece Joe needed to feel at ease. Well, as much as he could. He'd still always worry about his kids, especially their hearts, but maybe Leonard Snart was a suitable partner for his son after all.

When Joe cleared the last step, he shouldn't have been surprised to see Barry sitting at the dining room table, nursing a glass of amber liquid. He made his way over to the table, leaning against the back of a chair on the opposite side of the table as Barry.

"How did you get down here?" Joe questioned, pressing his first instinct to scold his son, that he could have hurt himself trying to get down alone.

"Slow steps and stubbornness," Barry shrugged with a small smile.

"Thirsty?" Joe indicated with his head to the glass Barry held between his hands.

"Couldn't sleep," Barry sighed, gaze fixated on the drinking glass.

"Nightmares?" Joe asked softly. Barry nodded without looking up, his hands starting to shake so he hid them under the table but not before Joe saw them. He didn't need to tell Joe how when he closed his eyes his mind flashed back to the cellar, to Joe trying to talk him through the pain as Len removed the blades from his hands. How he could feel the pain in his hands even though they were mostly healed, a blinding pain that ached as much as when they were pinned to the wall. How when he tried to calm himself he could feel the damp air in his lungs, the smell of the dirt and blood that seemed to hover around him. He didn't need to tell Joe any of that, his father saw it in his weary eyes that stayed averted.

"Me too," Joe said when Barry answered his question without uttering a word. He grabbed the nearly empty glass from Barry and went into the kitchen to get a refill as well as a drink for himself. A whiff of the liquid and Joe was relieved to find it was apple juice in his son's glass and not the scotch he sought after for himself. He heard Barry cough behind him and when he glanced over his shoulder, he could tell by the way Barry's face tightened and held his abdomen that it was painful for him to do so. Caitlin warned him to keep an eye out for shortness of breath, wheezing, and fever as early signs of pneumonia but to not worry about the occasional cough.

Joe came back and sat down in the chair he had been leaning against, Barry thanking him when he handed the glass of apple juice, his voice a little rough from the coughing.

"And you got down here by yourself?" Joe asked, raising the glass to his lips, not asking the real question on his mind.

Barry chuckled softly, "Not before convincing Len that I would be fine. I told him to go back to sleep but knowing him he's probably lying awake in bed waiting till I get back."

"He a worrier?"

"Overprotective," Barry half-smiled, finally looking up at Joe. "Must be some truth to kids finding significant others that remind them of their parents."

"Watch it," Joe warned after nearly choking on his whiskey. The silence between them after wasn't uncomfortable. It hung in the air like a warm summer storm, knowing whatever they discussed next would be heavy but also knowing that with the rain came clear skies. But Joe went with what he knew was infallible, the love and belief he had in his son's resilience. So he reached out across the table to gently grasp his son's forearm.

"Barr, being used to getting hurt, recovering from it quickly, doesn't mean you don't feel pain and fear. No one is expecting you to bounce back from this. I know you're tough, I know you're strong, and I know you've gone through a hell of a lot. It's okay if this takes time."

The sentiment would seem out of context within the confines of a dining room at one a.m. but when Barry nodded at his words, his shoulders sinking as if a weight had been taken off, Joe was satisfied knowing he'd said what Barry needed to hear; permission to not be okay. He'd been giving it to Barry since he was eleven. He knew no one had taught Barry to pent-up his emotions, it wasn't Henry or Nora's style and it certainly hadn't been Joe's. If anything it had been the complete opposite but it was a defense Barry fell into shortly after his mother's murder. For most of his lifetime, if it wasn't a therapist who tried to teach him better coping mechanisms, it was Joe and Iris, both reminding him it was okay to let himself feel, even if it was only for a moment. Usually, it worked, Barry an open book, ready to spill his heart. But with the stuff that was really heavy, the heartbreaking or keep you up at night kind of things, Barry tended to suffer silently until forced to open up. It was just how he did things, willing himself not to burden others until he was granted permission.

"And you got a lot of people here for you, including a partner who cares about you very much," Joe added and watched as his son's eyes began to shine.

"He really does," Barry laughed wetly, smiling. Joe didn't dare ask the questions he couldn't help but want to ask; was Barry sure, why this man. Barry had spelled it out quite clear at the precinct. He'd also seen the answers from the other side, watching Leonard during Barry's absence, knowing he went on his own to save him, sitting every day in the medbay as Barry lay unconscious. He noticed the gentle touches, heard the whispered words, saw the tears in the moments where the former criminal didn't try to hide behind the persona Joe knew him better as. And whatever gaps in his doubts about the suitability of him as a partner for his son were filled in last night when he was an unobserved witness to a tender and raw moment between two men who clearly cared very much for each other.

"Joe," Barry started but was quickly cut off.

"I'm sorry it took this to make me come around, Barr," Joe interrupted. When Barry smiled at him before dipping his head, he knew he needn't say anything else, that his son understood. "If you're not ready to go back to bed yet, I'm dying to hear how this all started."

The smile that almost reached Barry's eyes made Joe smile right back at him. So Barry dived into the story, skipping the parts you just don't tell your dad, and Joe listened, so relieved to hear the happiness in his kid's voice and the haunted look in his eyes disappear for the first time in days. Neither of them aware that from the top of the steps sat a man who was just coming down to check on his lover. He stopped because he didn't want to interrupt Joe, but stayed because he didn't want to miss Barry's story.

In the evening on the third night, Joe was coming home from work, the sun setting a warm glow over the quiet suburb street. He had parked in the street as not to block in Iris' Prius, glad to see he hadn't missed her before she left. Getting out of his car he saw Leonard sitting on the top step of the porch, back braced against the wood column, a bottle of beer between his hands.

"Evening, Detective," he greeted, tipping his bottle. Joe nodded at him as he climbed the steps.

"How's it goin'?" Joe asked, crossing the porch to peer into the bay window.

"Your kids both passed out while watching the movie," Len supplied as Joe saw the two of them cuddled on the couch, Iris sitting upright, feet propped on the coffee table. Barry was stretched out across the cushions, head pillowed on her thigh, a blanket draped over him. "I didn't want to disturb them so I thought I'd come out here."

Joe placed his briefcase and jacket on the porch chair and went to sit on the left side across from Len.

"Ya know that's one of Barry's thinkin' spots," Joe smirked at him.

"I thought it had an existential quality about it," Len joked and Joe smiled genuinely back at him.

"How is he today?" Joe questioned, leaning back against the post as Len told him that he hadn't needed the sling all day, that Barry was able to take the wrappings off his hands and all that was visible was thin healing lines. Barry had eaten two full servings of pancakes and bacon, cooked by Len and not Iris thankfully, as well as one of Cisco's protein bars before he even got to lunch. He still walked with a limp and wore the brace but he was definitely getting better more quickly.

"He and Iris even baked brownies," Len added, taking a swig of the beer, a satisfaction that Joe recognized, that relief when the worry starts to fade and you finally believe that maybe things are going to be alright.

"I gotta tell ya Snart, lesser men would not be okay with their boyfriend being so cuddly with their ex," Joe couldn't help it. He would have bet high stakes on Leonard Snart being a jealous man.

"He tells me it's over. And he's never given me any reason not to believe him," Len shrugged. He didn't say anything else and Joe suspected that's because there wasn't anything else to it. "Should I be worried?"

Joe would have been lying if he said he hadn't been heartbroken when Iris and Barry called it off but could see that they were making the right choice for both of them. After having watched Barry be in love with Iris his whole life, even while exploring other options it came as a shock to suddenly know unequivocally it was over between them, could see it in the way they'd interacted. But Barry was the one he worried about. Iris thrived at adapting, constantly finding a way through, even in her deepest heartaches, she turned a pitfall into power. Barry, even though the most resilient person he ever met, he felt everything so deeply, took everything to heart. The fact that he was not only able to move on but to fall in love again so deeply, told Joe everything. Barry Allen didn't do rebounds. This thing with Leonard Snart, this was the real deal.

"The only thing you should be worried about is being a part of this family now," Joe said, an olive branch he never thought he'd offer. "We're loud, spend a lot of time together, and love hard."

"I've met your son. I'm well aware," Len chuckled before offering his own olive branch. "I'm looking forward to seeing where he gets it from."

Their conversation was interrupted shortly after by a disheveled Iris coming out to tell her Barry was craving pizza. She said it with a big smile on her face as if she'd just cracked the DiVinci code. When Barry was able to pack one whole pepperoni, jalapeño, and olive pie by himself, they all looked at him he was the holy grail to which he blushed and begged them to stop fussing over them. Joe was surprised by how full his heartfelt with the group around the table, a group that now included Leonard Snart, as they ate and talked and laughed together.

That night Joe spent significantly less time checking on his son before going to bed. He peered in through the gap of the cracked open bedroom door, relieved to not see Barry in distress. These past few days Joe had seen how Barry turned towards Len, finding comfort in his arms, while he had healed at S.T.A.R. Labs as well as their time in the house. But as he peered into Barry's room, he saw Barry curled on his side, Len behind him close, Len's chest pressed against Barry's back.

He heard Len make a slight noise, could see his face pinched in the small stream of light from street lamps cut through the blinds, the man clearly disturbed in slumber. But then he watched Barry reach behind him with one arm blindly, eyes still closed as he felt for Len's arm, grabbing the wrist and pulling the arm to stretch across his own waist, hand interlocking with hand as he pulled it to his own chest. Len sighed and settled almost instantly, curling up closer to Barry, nuzzling his face in the back of Barry's neck with a sigh. He saw his son smile slightly in his sleep before the sounds of soft snoring could be heard from both men.

Joe smiled, shook his head fondly. His kid still had a lot of healing to do, would carry these new scars with him just like all the others. In a few days' time, his physical wounds would be all healed and he'd be suiting up and going out there as the Flash putting his life on the line again in no time. And Joe would go back to worrying about his safety. What he took comfort in was knowing that at least that when Barry left this house, his home, he was safe and sound in the arms of someone that loved him.