Barry flashed into his lab at the CCPD through the back, the way he went when he wanted to pass as few people as possible, regardless of them not being able to see him. He couldn't believe he'd been called into work—on a Sunday—right after he'd told Len he wouldn't have to leave. It was just the price he paid for working with the police. It didn't matter what day of the week it was if an ongoing investigation needed lab work done after a new suspect was charged.

He was also wary about leaving Len alone with Cisco and Caitlin—who also shouldn't have been at work on a Sunday, but apparently there were a lot of strange details to work out with Wells' 'disappearance' to make sure S.T.A.R. Labs stayed open and the two of them stayed employed, all while keeping the questions to a minimum.

Len had told him not to worry, of course. Caitlin had told him not to worry. But Cisco had eyed Len with trepidation like he thought the guy was going to suddenly smirk, grab his cold gun, and waste them all.

Urg. Barry just wanted to get back there.

He sped through each part of the tests he needed to run that he could actually speed through, but some things couldn't be hastened by The Flash; some science had a waiting period and couldn't be rushed. He tapped his pencil irritably during those parts. His patience had taken a nosedive since becoming the fastest man alive, and it was not doing any better today.

While he waited for the last part of a blood analysis to finish, he used his computer to check again on Lisa Snart, confirming what Caitlin had said about both Snarts having been reported as escaping the scene, Lisa getting away with an impressive amount of jewelry and other priceless items from the 1st National safe deposit boxes—but no one knew where.

Barry sighed, finally nearly done with his work. All he had to do was turn in the samples to Evidence, file his report, and he could get back to Len.

"Hey, Barry. Sorry you had to come in for this one today, but you know how it is," Joe said as he entered, the black beanie he favored more on the weekends pulled down over his head.

Barry startled. He knew this was Joe and Eddie's case—nothing meta or Flash related, for once—but he'd sort of forgotten he might run into Joe just now. "Hey! It's fine. I was just…at the lab. The other lab."

"Rough night?" Joe asked, coming up to the table to hover with an air of fatherly concern.

Barry remembered he'd told Joe he was sleeping at S.T.A.R. Labs so he wouldn't worry when he didn't come home last night. "Nothing too crazy," he lied, and felt a twinge in his gut as he did so.

"Barry," Joe gave him his patented patronizing eyebrow raise, "it's okay. I know about Snart. How could I not."

That got Barry to sit up straighter. "You do? But how? Did Cisco and Caitlin call you?"

"I'm a police officer, Barry, I tend to know when a crime has been committed." He moved around the table to stand beside Barry, placing a large, firm hand on his shoulder. "You can't beat yourself up about things like this, Barry. Even you can't be everywhere at once. So you missed the Snarts this time around. There'll be other crimes to stop. You'll get your chance to bring them in."

Barry realized that Joe did not know the Snart thing he thought he knew; he was talking about the bank robbery. Barry had just been given the perfect opportunity to keep his lie going, nod along, play off sleeping at the lab as feeling guilty he'd been elsewhere when Lisa and Len hit 1st National. But as he looked up into his father's eyes—as much his father as his flesh and blood relation—he knew he couldn't. Lying always blew up in his face.

"Joe…there's something I have to tell you."

Joe was unnaturally calm as Barry finished explaining about Len. That was never a good sign.

"And you left Cisco and Caitlin alone with him," Joe stated more than asked.

"Only because I'm sure—"

"You must believe him if you were willing to risk that, Barry," Joe broke in. "So let's assume he's telling the truth right now. What happens when he remembers? What if he remembers while you're here, and doesn't care how much the three of you have been trying to help him?"

Why did everyone keep saying that? It made Barry's gut clench, and he felt heat and anger rise to the surface. "I'm being careful, Joe. We're being careful. It wouldn't serve Cold any good to hurt Cisco or Caitlin now. If he remembers, he'll owe us, and he'll honor that, even if the next time he decides to throw it in our faces. But he wouldn't hurt them. He doesn't hurt people without a reason."

Joe tilted his head incredulously at Barry and crossed his arms. Barry hated that look more than any other, the 'you should know better', 'what kind of fool did I raise' glower. "You're defending Snart now? An innocent man, with no memories of his crimes, maybe that's one thing, Barry, but Snart himself, the one you're so sure has some sense of honor when it comes to you, is a murderer. He's proven he has no problem killing anyone who gets in his way."

"He promised me—"

"And he's broken his promises!" Joe erupted, arms flying back to his sides. "He let all of those dangerous people with powers go right from under you because it was fun for him. That is not someone you trust, Barry. That is not someone you forgive."

Barry stood, no longer feeling like being towered over for this conversation. He faced Joe dead-on. "You always taught me you should be willing to forgive anybody. Even when you thought my dad was the one who killed my mother, you still told me I should forgive him."

Joe's eyes filled with sympathy—but no, not sympathy. Pity. "Because that's what you say to a kid, Barry, when you don't want to crush him for still loving a father who doesn't deserve it. Now I am so glad I was wrong, and that your father always was the good man you believed him to be, but if it hadn't turned out that way…I can tell you, I wouldn't have ever been able to forgive him for doing that to you and your mother, any more than I can forgive Wells—Thawne—for being the real killer. Some things you don't forgive."

"You don't believe that," Barry snapped, clenching his fists to stay his anger.

"So you're saying you could forgive Thawne?"

That wasn't fair, but as much as it pushed Barry's anger to the limit at first, he understood why Joe had to say that. It was always easier to forgive someone when you were removed from the situation. But what about the families of the people Cold had killed? Barry had to think like them.

And it wasn't easy.

"I don't know," he conceded, his fists relaxing out of their tight hold, "but even after everything, a part of me did still care for Wells. Sometimes, I couldn't shake that, even when I wanted to hate him. Maybe I could forgive him. I have to believe it's possible, Joe, just like I have to believe that deep down you feel the same. I have to, or what the hell am I doing going out there pretending I'm a hero." He softened, adding, "The kind of hero you've always been for me."

The remaining fight drained right out of Joe, looking at Barry the way he did only when Barry really surprised him—usually because he couldn't believe how proud he was of him, or so he said. At least, that's what Barry hoped the expression meant right now. Joe would always be one of Barry's first superheroes, right along with his real father.

Joe looked away. "We're talking in hypotheticals, Barry," he said softly. "There is a chance that Snart will never remember. If that's the case…things could be different. But if he does, no matter how much you want to have faith in him, you can't predict how he'll react, what he'll be thinking, what he'll do. I don't want you setting yourself up to get hurt."

"I know that," Barry looked at Joe pleadingly, "I just need you to trust me on this. Until we can be sure what'll happen, I'll keep a close eye on things, stay at the lab with him to make sure nothing gets out of hand. When I can't be there, I'll make sure we have precautions in place. Right now, even if he did remember and decided to do something, he's too hurt to pull it off, trust me."

"I hope you're right," Joe said evenly, "but I'm going to have to see for myself before I feel okay about this."

"See…Len?" Barry's eyes sprang wide.

"Yes. I'm coming back with you to S.T.A.R. Labs."

Barry was trying not to hyperventilate. All things considered, his conversation with Joe had gone well concerning Len. Of course now, in about five minutes, once Joe was finished with his work on the case, they'd be heading back to S.T.A.R. Labs together.

He texted Caitlin, who he figured could keep the most level head about things, and asked her not to tell the others about Joe coming back with him. Barry didn't want Len worrying before there was anything to worry about.

Caitlin seemed confident in their progress with Len so far. Everything had been going fine with him while Barry was out. They were making sure he rested, getting their own work done, and also asking questions and giving him tasks where appropriate to see how much he did remember, and how likely it was that he'd remember more in the future. Everything was fine for now.

For now…

"Hey, Barry," a pleasant voice broke into his reverie as he stood leaning back on Joe's desk with his cell phone out, finishing his last text to Caitlin.

He looked up to see Iris, smile bright and beautiful as always, approaching him with Eddie at her side. Despite everything they had been through lately, while Iris' smile could sometimes look strained, Eddie's never did. He always treated Barry like he understood and could forgive him anything, even the selfish idiot he'd been at times when it came to Iris. It really made it impossible to hate the guy, or disapprove of him in any way, and Barry had said as much to Joe when he told him to please, please give Eddie his blessing to propose. It seemed they were going to take things slow for a while anyway, maybe not jump right to where they'd left off, but Barry honestly hoped they made it back there.

He pushed his apprehensions aside as he smiled at them. "Hey, guys. I'm just waiting on Joe with this case before we head back to S.T.A.R. Labs. Guess you got called in too," he said to Eddie.

"Hazard of the job," Eddie answered brightly. "Hasn't taken too much time out of our day. We were about to head out for lunch. We can't convince you and Joe to join us before you get back to work on your…side project?"

At least they couldn't openly talk about Flash related things at the station, so Barry didn't have to worry about mentioning Len; they'd both just assume it was Flash business in some capacity and that if they were needed, they'd be informed.

"Sorry, no, I think Joe's a little anxious on this one. Nothing serious," Barry added honestly—at least he hoped that was an honest statement. "Just something to check up on. I'm kind of hoping things will be slow for a while." He grinned at the slight pun. With Reverse Flash gone and Captain Cold out of commission, that might even be possible. Until the next crisis arose.

"Maybe dinner sometime this week then?" Iris suggested. "It's been a while."

A while...since they all got together for something that wasn't a tragedy. Well, aside from Caitlin's wedding, but that had been a little rushed.

"Absolutely," Barry said.

Iris grinned at his genuine enthusiasm; she could always tell when he was faking it. "Great. I'm just going to run to the ladies room before we head out." She turned to Eddie. "I'll be right back."

Eddie beamed at Barry as she walked away, and a sense of inevitable calm filled Barry's chest. He didn't feel the old pang he used to when thinking of Iris as unattainable, or being alone with Eddie, the man who had won her heart. It was all out of his hands now, and he was starting to think that wasn't such a bad thing.

"Everything okay?" Eddie asked, open concern in his eyes as he reached out to grip Barry's arm, ever the physical comforter, so easygoing and heartfelt.

Barry let his emotions bleed plainly onto his face, a shade of guilt mixed with the affection he had for his friend, and just how good of a man he was, how much he really did deserve Iris. Barry had never imagined he'd think that of anyone.

"I'm really sorry, Eddie," he blurted.

"Sorry?" Eddie's smile returned but wavered, not understanding. "For what?"

"For being such a jerk."

"Barry, you may be a lot of things, but—"

"You know what I mean, Eddie."

And the way Eddie's smile fell the rest of the way into a look of sorrow proved he did. "Barry…you know I'd never fault you for having feelings for Iris. I know firsthand how easy it is to love her. I understand wanting to fight for that. Sometimes I really can't believe how good of a guy you are, being willing to let her go."

"But you're that same guy," Barry insisted. "You were willing to give her up, thinking it was the right thing, because of what Wells told you of the future…but the truth is, it really doesn't matter what he changed about the past, or how that may have altered things. I used to think I missed my chance with her, that if only it hadn't been for the accident, the coma, if only she hadn't met you, we would have ended up together, and maybe we would have. But she knows that. She knows it could have gone either way. The difference is, even if she does have some feelings for me…she chose you. She chose you, Eddie, not me. She loves you.

"All I've ever wanted was for her to be happy. And I can't imagine anyone more suited to ensure that. Believe me, I hated every boyfriend she ever had before you." Barry forced his somber, serious face into a bright grin. He meant every word, after all.

Eddie had that look like he might hug Barry, and Barry supposed he wouldn't mind, but at the same time it was a relief when Eddie held back and kept things more controlled in the middle of the police station. He squeezed Barry's shoulder again instead. "Thank you, Barry. That really means a lot. I never want things to be so weird between us that we can't still be friends."

"You definitely never have to worry about that," Barry assured him.

"And hey," Eddie brightened again, "if things turned out this way for us, then that has to mean there is someone even better suited for you out there than you could ever have imagined for yourself. You're a good guy, Barry. You deserve someone amazing."

"Yeah…" Barry trailed wistfully thinking of that, of someone out there who could mean as much to him as Iris had, but who could finally be wholly his.

Len laughing, carefree and missing any of the sinister tone Barry was used to from Captain Cold, flashed through his mind—how easy it had been last night, just the two of them, talking...

Barry shook his head as he offered another companionable smile to Eddie. He had been friends with Len for less than a day. They had weird history, several years between them, and lived lives on complete opposite ends of the law. Not to mention that it wasn't at all ethical to seduce someone who didn't remember their own name. It was insane to entertain ideas of romance sprouting there, much as Barry had been enjoying the teasing innuendos and flirting. Attraction was a given, at least Barry assumed it was a given for Len as much as it was for him by the looks he'd caught Len giving him, but that had to be where it ended.

But then Barry had never been able to control who he fell for, and he always fell hard, in a whirlwind of tripping over his own feet right into the abyss.

Shit.

Len had been stunned when Cisco first asked him to look at the cold gun. It was a weapon, a dangerous one, the very tool Captain Cold used against people. Surely, they didn't want him suddenly remembering who he was while wielding it. He assumed it was meant to be a test, to see what he would do. Cisco wasn't being short with him or distrustful of him in any open way anymore; but there was always that challenge, that look of scientific gauging like he was halfway between fascinated and ready to defend himself.

Len had been staring at the gun for a couple minutes now, not sure what he was supposed to do with it. There he was, freshly showered, teeth clean from an extra toothbrush they'd scrounged for him from somewhere, his sweats from the previous night back on, and in his same black socks, padding around the main labs like it wasn't strange at all.

He'd rested for some time before Barry left, and a while after, but he'd grown antsy, swore he felt well enough to get a little exercise, and that he wouldn't get in their way, when Cisco had asked him over.

Now he stood, staring, wondering if merely looking at the damn thing would spark any recognition. It didn't look familiar as a whole, so he focused on the parts, on the trigger, on the way it was shaped, the length of the barrel, how it curved…

One hundred and nineteen seconds.

"What was that?" Cisco asked.

Had Len said that out loud? "One hundred and nineteen seconds," Len said again, purposely this time, and as he said it, he remembered what that timeframe referred to. "I can take this gun apart in under two minutes, and put it back together even faster."

Caitlin sat at one of the monitors nearby, and immediately ceased typing. The sudden silence made Len look up from the gun. He glanced at her, then at Cisco.

"I…just remembered that," he said, feeling like he needed to back up, back away. "I don't…"

"Show us," Cisco said. He still looked caught between curious and terrified, but that didn't seem to deter him.

"Cisco..." Caitlin warned.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Len said. He felt this faint buzzing when he looked at the gun now. "I know you think that, if I remember everything, I'll go back to being the way I was before. I don't want—"

"Part of me thinks that, sure," Cisco interrupted. "The other part wonders if will could actually be stronger than memory. You say you don't want to be Captain Cold again. Maybe your will could make that true even if you do remember your past."

Len wasn't so sure about that. He looked at Caitlin again, who now seemed to share Cisco's curious expression.

"Well..." she said gaugingly, "controlled responses to recover your memories might make it happen gradual enough that you'd remember how you feel right now just as much as you remember the past. Could be a calculable difference."

She didn't sound convinced enough for Len to fully agree. Must be something about scientists, he thought. If they weren't willing to test things that often scared them, they'd never accomplish anything.

Len didn't share their faith or lust for experimentation, but then again…maybe he owed it to himself to see if they were right. If he was doomed to remember anyway, wouldn't it be better to have some control over how and when it happened?

He looked at the gun once more then raised an eyebrow at Cisco, resolute. "Time me."

Cisco pulled his cell phone out with an eager grin that Len was pretty sure got the kid in trouble way more than he'd ever admit.

Len didn't stop to think. As soon as Cisco said 'go', he grabbed the gun and he just knew—he knew which pieces came apart first, the sequence, how to check that the very specialized safety was on, that the chemicals inside that made the gun what it was didn't leak—every single step like clockwork.

When Len finished and the gun lay in pieces on the table, Cisco looked at his phone with a slight frown. "Two minutes, three seconds."

Len scowled. "Well, I did hit my head. Back together?" he prompted.

Cisco nodded at him, the excited smile filling his entire face.

This time it was even easier, and Len marveled a little at his own speed—nothing like Barry's, of course, but still impressive.

"One minute, forty-two seconds," Cisco announced. "Holy crap."

Len picked up the reassembled gun and charged it.

Cisco scrambled back, nearly dropping his phone, while Caitlin bolted up from her chair.

"Sorry!" Len said hurriedly, powering it down and placing the gun back on the table next to his—to Captain Cold's—parka and gear. It had been instinct; he hadn't meant to charge the gun.

He backed away from it toward Caitlin, feeling a tightness in his chest worse than any of the anxiety he'd felt so far. Suddenly, his head pounded, but it was too early for more meds.

"Len?" Caitlin's voice sounded far away, even though she should only be a couple feet behind him.

Len thought he felt her hand on his arm, but the room was starting to spin. He couldn't breathe. He gasped for air, fighting the speckles of darkness creeping in on his vision.

"Len!"

The next thing Len knew he was on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest while he gulped in ragged breaths, his back leaned against…against Caitlin, who had an arm crossed over in front of his chest to hold him still, while Cisco knelt at his left, a hand on his knee. Their cumulative presence was so instantly soothing, Len coughed as a rush of air finally made it into his lungs. He felt like he might pass out, but their hands and a chorus of soothing words brought his vision back into focus.

"S-Sorry…" he said again.

"Dude, you just had a panic-attack," Cisco informed him, like it was something miraculous. "You do not need to apologize."

"Maybe that was too much stimuli too fast," Caitlin offered. She was remarkably strong for such a willowy woman, her grip finally loosening as she pulled her arm back, and simply knelt there behind him, almost cradling him against her. It didn't feel as unfamiliar as Len thought it should, having someone there, comforting him.

It made him think of Lisa. He wanted to remember more than her smile, more than her gestures and presence. He wanted to recall her face, her whole form. Yet at the same time, it terrified him that he might succeed if he tried too hard to conjure her, and everything else would come flooding back with it. He might pick up that gun and use it on these people, these victims of his that were holding him between them so selflessly. He never, ever wanted that to happen.

He pushed Lisa from his mind. It wasn't safe. He wasn't safe...

"S-So…what do you think I should do with myself if I never remember?" he asked, forcing his voice to be steady so he could say that with a slight edge of humor; he didn't want them to know how much it scared him to think of the opposite happening, though they obviously shared his concerns.

"You could stay here," Caitlin said, as Len shifted into a more normal sitting position, and suddenly they were three grown people on the floor, Len and Cisco cross-legged, while Caitlin sat with her legs tucked to the side in her grey dress.

"Stay?"

"Sure. You could help us," Cisco said with a leading shrug that seemed to rejuvenate him the more he thought on it. "Totally, yeah! You actually being on our side would be seriously amazing. You don't have to remember everything to still be badass in a fight. You're also annoyingly cunning and observant—like, extremely annoying at those things," he said like an accusation, but didn't pause to dwell. "And if you still have that thrill seeking, next big score urge, well…there is no greater challenge and privilege than helping The Flash save people."

Caitlin chuckled in agreement. "I know I couldn't imagine doing anything else now. But Len," she added more seriously, "if you do remember everything and you still want to stay with us…you can, you know? I know that might sound strange coming from us after what you heard of our…history together, but we wouldn't punish you for remembering or turn you away if you wanted to stay and make up for the past—including the things you did to us."

"Well, ideally you wouldn't stay, stay, like live here," Cisco gestured to the labs around them, "because, seriously, we can do better for you than here. But you know…what she said," he smiled encouragingly. "Barry is a terrible influence, and he's right. If we're the good guys, than we should be willing to help anyone, even an amnesiac or a repentant villain."

Len stared at them in amazement, but quickly felt a frown pulling at his lips. The problem was, he didn't know if he would be repentant if he remembered. Their faith in him, that he could be led to his memories safely, was clearly misplaced, too much of a risk. He might far more easily scoff in distaste at the whole thing, looking back on this conversation, huddled on the floor with these two kind people who were giving him more of a chance than he deserved.

But even if he doubted himself, their willingness to forgive him overwhelmed him, and he didn't know what to say. He only managed a small, choked, "Thank you," before he realized how silly it was for them to still be on the floor. He could breathe fine now, he was fine. He had to be.

He made to stand, but the pair at either side of him beat him to it, offering helping hands. Barry was a terrible influence indeed, but Len didn't think that was the only reason Cisco and Caitlin were so kind. They were just good people at their cores. Like he wanted to be.

"I'm sorry I asked you to look at the gun," Cisco said with drooping eyes. "I was just curious what would happen. Sense memory is the easiest to trigger, so I thought…"

"No…it's okay," Len said. "Sense memory I can handle. We just have to be careful next time."

Besides, Len sort of liked what Cisco had said about The Flash being his next big score—in so many words. As long as he didn't remember too much, it could be okay. He couldn't deny that a thrill ran through him thinking of seeing The Flash in action. To be at his side, helping instead of hurting, as the brand new man he was starting to become…that sounded like a marvelous idea.

And then there he was—The Flash, Barry—striding into the labs, back from his time away at the CCPD.

Len brightened instantly. No, he wouldn't mind Barry being his next big score at all.

But something was wrong. Barry looked hunched, his expression tight and constrained, and Len's happier thoughts were blow away by the sight of a man with a badge coming in after him.

TBC...