Author's Note: Hey everyone! This chapter is kind of short; it's a little under 2000 words, but I have to admit that I struggled with this one. I'm not really sure why, but it wasn't a simple process; my muse didn't want to work with me on this haha. But I hope you'll enjoy it anyways. Hope to see some reviews :)
Barry wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed while he was alone with Bliss. If he had to guess, he would have said it was about an hour later when he heard the tell-tale sounds of his other captors returning, the shuffling of their feet echoing throughout the warehouse, the idle chatter as they grew closer. Despite the horrors of being in this situation, he felt a small sense of relief to know that they were back; if they were here, then they weren't out causing trouble in the city. He would rather them hurt him than any of the innocent people out there. And, hey, maybe, just maybe, their jaunt in the city had given his friends some kind of opportunity to get to him. Though he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that, either, them putting themselves at risk for him; because he knew without a doubt that they were working to do so. He knew them too well.
The speedster lifted his head weakly as the group came into view, and for a moment, he almost didn't believe his own eyes. Perhaps this sickness was really getting to him, or Bliss had done something again, like the trick earlier where he had seen his dead mother. Because there was absolutely no way that was who he thought it was. He blinked hard, trying to bring himself to his senses, but no - the man he was so surprised to see was still there when he stopped.
It was Snart. Snart was there.
Barry stared at the criminal, mouth slightly open, eyes questioning, and for a moment Snart stared back. The speedster couldn't quite identify the look in his eyes, but it didn't matter, because just as quickly he turned away, his gaze no longer focused on him. Barry continued to stare, however, his eyes tracking his every movement with the small bit of energy he could still muster up.
"What's going on here?" Bliss was the first to address the situation, his eyes locked on Snart momentarily before turning an accusatory look to the rest of his supposed team. "Who's this clown? If I'm not mistaken, he was not with you when you all left," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"You can call me Captain Cold," Snart replied almost immediately, his voice smooth, a smirk playing at his lips. Barry couldn't be sure, but something seemed to be...well, something seemed to be off about it. Although, something was off about this entire situation. What the hell was Snart doing here? He didn't do anything without some grand reason, and they had a truce - he was supposed to leave him and his friends and family alone. So what was this about?
"He says he wants in on the action," Bivolo piped up, arms crossed over his chest.
"And that the Green Arrow is here," Tell added, his voice almost giddy at the prospect of revenge on the man who had gotten him imprisoned; Barry perked up slightly at hearing that piece of information. If Oliver was in the city, then surely he'd be out of here soon. The vigilante was good at his job, especially when it became personal. It made him less worried about his team stumbling in here trying to save him; Oliver wouldn't let them do anything stupid, or anything that would get them hurt.
"Which is not important," Mardon snapped, rolling his eyes.
"It is if he plans to try and rescue him, like Snart said," Tell replied, motioning to Barry with a wave of his hand.
"Well, he's not going to. We'll make sure of that. In the meantime, however, Snart is here to give us a little demonstration."
Barry tensed at those words, a feeling of dread overcoming him, especially once he realized what was in Snart's hands. He had his cold gun. How had he not noticed that sooner? It wasn't like he had been concealing it, or even could conceal it. The contraption was far too big.
"Snart, don't," Barry said quietly, his tone pleading, his eyes watering. He remembered the previous times he had been struck by the cold blasts of the gun, how his whole body would go numb and begin shutting down. How bad it hurt. He swallowed a lump in his raw throat as he imagined how it would feel in his current state, where every inch of him hurt enough already. But Snart refused to meet his eyes; in fact, it was almost as if he were trying to look anywhere but at him.
"Is there really even a point to this?" Snart asked. "He's obviously already weak. If you want to draw out his torture, the less we use this the better. Wouldn't want him dying on you so soon."
"What, are you chickening out, Snart? Taking his side? Because as Shawna already mentioned, we really don't need you here, if you're not going to bring anything to the team," Clay said. Shawna stood idly by his side, holding onto his arm, looking almost anxious.
Barry watched the conversation wearily. Was Snart...was he actually trying to protect him? Barry had had many encounters with the man, and he knew - if he wanted to use his cold gun, he would have done it already. But he hadn't.
Snart rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm not taking his side, you imbecile," he scoffed. "If you insist, I'll use it. But any side-effects, such as possible death, are on you," he added with a shrug. The thief stepped forward until he was standing in front of Barry, his gun pointed at the speedster. Barry's heart began racing again, and he looked up at Snart, was able to meet his eyes this time. And he could see it now, the mix of bitter emotions roiling inside of them. Snart didn't want to do this; he didn't want to use the gun on Barry. But there was no relief at the realization, because once again, it didn't matter.
There was only a moment's hesitation from Snart before he pulled the trigger, and he felt ice encasing him.
"Snart, damn it, what the hell did you do!?" Cisco shouted into the com system on the desk he was sitting at; but it was a question he didn't really need to ask. He knew what had happened, and knew why too. He knew he had had to, but it didn't stop his heart from pounding, or the subsequent cursing and panic that occurred between himself, Caitlin and Felicity as they watched Barry's vitals drop drastically, the monitor letting out an ear-splitting series of wild beeps. A warning that they didn't need. And above it all, they could hear the heart-wrenching scream Barry let out as the blast from the cold gun hit him.
Snart, of course, didn't answer them - couldn't answer them. Voices picked up again on the other end of the line, chuckles and noises of excitement from the rogues who had just witnessed the spectacle, but the three people in the Cortex were hardly listening at the moment; they couldn't listen, didn't have time to.
"Caitlin, the heater in the suit - press the button! Now!" Cisco instructed, as the doctor was closest to it. Caitlin, her face pale, nodded quickly and moved as fast as Cisco had ever seen anyone move in heels. Her fist slammed down on a button at one of the monitors seconds later, and they all waited with baited breath, eyes glued to the screen displaying Barry's vitals. The beeping came to a stop and, incredibly slowly, his vitals started to pick back up. But they didn't continue to rise, stopping too shortly after with not much improvement at all. His heart rate and breathing were too slow, his temperature and blood pressure fluctuating alarmingly. One glance at the girls told Cisco that they were just as concerned; Felicity was white-faced, Caitlin biting at her lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Snart, you can't do that again," Cisco spoke. "Even if it means blowing your cover. Barry can't handle it," he said urgently. Snart once again didn't answer; Cisco desperately hoped he would listen, because damn it, Barry was one of closest friends; hell, he was family. And he couldn't afford to lose him. None of them could.
"That was awesome," Mardon said with a grin, watching the speedster writhe and breathe heavily, rattling the chains secured around his wrists. The ice that had formed around him had already somehow melted off for the most part but he didn't care in the least. Snart had been right; the Flash really did react terribly to the cold. He was shivering, his eyes half-lidded.
Snart, however, felt sick to his stomach. A feeling which, admittedly, he was not at all used to having evoked in him, especially not by Barry Allen of all people. But it was there all the same, and his heart thumped a little harder in his chest as he heard Cisco screeching at him through his earpiece, exclaiming that he couldn't do that again - not if Barry were to live. And yet -
"Do it again," Mardon spoke again with a laugh, his eyes glinting. Snart opened his mouth, about to say something to get himself out of it; even if Cisco hadn't yelled a desperate warning, he couldn't have brought himself to do it again. But someone else beat him to it.
"No. That is enough, damn it," Shawna spoke up loudly, firmly, stepping forward away from her boyfriend. Snart noticed that she was shaking just as Barry was, though it wasn't from the temperature drop in the room. She was furious; he could see it in her eyes, in the way she moved.
"We're done here," she continued, moving to stand in front of Barry. "This is not - this is not what I wanted. We're done. He's suffered enough."
Snart looked relieved. Mardon, on the other hand, gained a look furious enough to match Shawna's.
"We are not done, princess," he spat. "We're just getting started."
"He'll die!" Shawna yelled back, eyes blazing.
"Then so be it," Mardon countered, his look dangerous.
"Shawna, this is what the plan was all along," Clay said, calmer than Mardon was but clearly peeved as well. "You agreed to this."
"I did not agree to murder him," she spat. "I didn't agree to this." She gestured at the speedster behind her, still barely coherent. "This is too far!"
"Then perhaps you should leave while you have the chance," Tell chimed in, taking a step closer to the girl. His eyes were narrowed; he was too invested in this now. He couldn't lose his shot at the Green Arrow.
"Snart, again," Mardon instructed.
Instead, Snart lowered his gun, pointing it down at the floor instead of at Barry.
"No," he said fiercely. And suddenly everyone's eyes were on him. Shawna looked shocked, though in a somewhat pleasant way; she clearly hadn't expected any of them to side with her. The others, however, had on expressions showing so much rage that they might as well have been under Bivolo's influence.
"No?" Mardon asked incredulously. "Why, you fucking -" He didn't even let himself finish his own sentence, charging suddenly at Snart with his hands raised high, ready to draw on his power -
He didn't get very far.
Snart raised his cold gun, aimed it at his chest, and pulled the trigger.
Author's Note: Aaaaand that's it for now! But hey, at least the new episode is on tonight. Until next time guys!