Len stiffened at the sight of the large man entering behind Barry, who might have appeared casually dressed with the black beanie pulled tight over his head, just an acquaintance of Barry's, no one to fear…if not for the detective's badge hanging from his neck, and the stern, challenging disposition.
Len looked to Barry, eyes wide, pulse thrumming. How could he...?
Almost immediately, Barry's expression snapped to panicked, and just as Len started to backpedal, Barry flashed forward, suddenly in front of him, gripping his elbows. "No! Len, it's not what you think! This is my dad!" he exclaimed. "Remember? I mean…I told you about him. I ran into him at the station. He was just worried and wanted to check in on you himself."
Len was shaking imperceptibly, only aware of it himself because Barry looked down at his arms awash in sympathy as he felt the tremor under his palms.
Barry hadn't turned him in, of course he hadn't. Len had to calm down.
"You just startled him, I think," came Caitlin's voice, soft and understanding. "When you came in we were…umm…recovering from a little episode."
"Episode?" A new voice—direct, distrusting. Joe.
"Not a big deal!" Cisco broke in, entirely failing at sounding unfazed. "He was just holding the cold gun and—"
"Why was he holding the cold gun?" Joe's voice turned sharper.
Len risked a glance over Barry's shoulder and he could see the tension in the detective's stance, the way his hand hovered near his gun, ready to draw it. The sight was achingly familiar, the way someone looked when they were like that, poised and ready to attack.
Len pulled away from Barry; he didn't mean to, but he couldn't...he couldn't breathe again. He backed away...
"Len?"
...right into Caitlin.
He whipped around to face her, and she smiled at him, completely composed.
She took his hands gently in her own. "You're still on the edges of the panic attack, okay?"
"Panic attack?" That was Barry, deep concern coloring his voice.
"I need you to take some slow, deep breaths for me," Caitlin went on, looking only at him, right into his eyes unblinking, which was remarkably calming. "Everything's all right. You're okay. Everything will be fine." It sounded rehearsed, like she had done this for someone else before.
The eye contact, the steady tones of her voice, made it easy to listen, to just breathe, as she rubbed soothing circles with her thumbs over the pulse points at his wrists. This felt familiar too, a memory from long ago of a small voice speaking similar words of comfort to him—that everything would be okay, he was okay, he was safe, but he was supposed to be the one saying those things, wasn't he?
"The cold gun was my fault," Cisco spoke up, distantly in the background. "I asked him to look at it. He just took it apart and put it back together again, then…sort of freaked himself out. He didn't mean any harm, Joe, honest."
A tentative hand slid around the curve of Len's shoulder. He knew before he pulled gratefully from Caitlin's hold that it was Barry.
Len spoke as he turned. "I'm sorry." He wasn't sure what he was sorry for this time, but there had to be something; for doubting Barry in that moment? He was definitely sorry for that.
But of course Barry merely smiled. "You really need to stop apologizing so much, Len."
Releasing another slow breath, Len found himself smiling back at the kid. The moment couldn't last forever though. He looked around Barry once again, forcing himself to meet the detective's fierce gaze. Joe didn't look too convinced or at all trusting.
"Len…this is my dad, Joe West," Barry introduced, slipping the hand on Len's shoulder down to the edge of his waist in support as they turned toward Joe.
"Detective West," Joe corrected determinedly, keeping his eyes trained on Len as he approached.
Len heard Barry make a small noise of frustration, but steeled himself. He almost made to hold out a hand toward Joe in introduction then thought better of it with the way the man was glowering at him.
"Detective," Len said softly instead.
Joe stared him down a moment before shifting his gaze to Barry. "Barry, I'd like to speak with Snart alone for a few minutes."
The way Barry's eyes shot open did not comfort Len in the slightest.
"Just for a few minutes," Joe reiterated. He sounded patient but still firm as he spoke to Barry. Len didn't feel any of that patience afforded him when Joe met his gaze again.
Barry looked to Len despondently, apologizing silently for having no control over this—he wouldn't, couldn't refuse his father. Len had heard easily in the way Barry talked about Joe how much this man really was just as much Barry's father as the one wrongly incarcerated.
Allowing himself to panic again wouldn't get them anywhere; Len had to prove to Joe that he was being honest, that he really didn't remember anything, and since that was nothing but the truth, he had nothing to worry about…
He mustered a smile for Barry. "It's okay. He has a right to be concerned. We can go to the lounge." He turned back to Joe and gestured weakly out of the room.
Joe mirrored the gesture back at him, indicating for Len to go first. Len tried not to look at Barry, or Cisco and Caitlin as he made his way from the room, afraid they'd see the fear in his eyes. He felt a bit like a man walking to the gallows with Joe West at his back. It was like that awful 'someone's watching you' sensation but tenfold, which maybe was more like 'someone's hating you and plotting your demise'.
When they were far enough away from the others, Len figured it would serve him better if he got ahead of the conversation.
"Detective…I've been through some of this with Cisco and Caitlin. They had a tough time trusting me at first too. They've told me some of the things I've done, things I've done to them…so I understand this is hard to believe, but I really don't remember—"
"I believe you, Snart."
"You do?" Len made to turn around as they entered the lounge, right around the corner that partially blocked them from a clear view to Barry and the others in the main labs.
Before Len could fully pivot to look at Joe, he felt strong hands grab the front of his sweatshirt and slam him roughly into the wall. He was lucky his wounded head didn't snap back in the process, as his feet lifted from the floor.
"Hey, what—"
"You think I give two shits who you are right now?" Joe seethed out an angry, low growl, quiet so as not to alert the others. His angry face snarled mere inches from Len's own.
For a split second, Len felt the panic again, the loss of breath, the darkness closing in on him, but then there was a different darkness. The strange buzzing that had seemed to accompany this before, that had rang in his ears when looking at the cold gun, crept up louder. He pushed back against Joe, who managed to hold him in place, but might not have if Len was at full strength.
Len had an insatiable urge to rip the detective's scowl from his face for daring to touch him.
He gasped as that feeling flared hotly in his chest and then…subsided, and as it waned, he pushed and pushed to get it as far away as possible from the forefront of his mind.
"I don't care who you are right now, Snart," Joe said again. "I care who you really are, who you'll be again, and I swear, if you use this against Barry when you wake up and remember, if you think you can turn this situation to your advantage and hurt him…"
"I'd never—" Len bit back his retort before he could finish it, seeing in Joe's eyes that it was the wrong thing to say.
Of course Joe wouldn't believe him. How could he, after everything Len had learned about Captain Cold, and with the furious feelings that had even just now stirred in his gut? So he tried again.
"I'd never hurt him on purpose," he said. "Not the man I am now, and I know that isn't enough for you, but…even as Cold, for whatever reason, Barry doesn't believe I'd hurt him either. He kept insisting when I woke up that what happened to make me like this was an accident, that I hadn't meant to hurt him when the building came down. That I saved him…" He'd done that much as Captain Cold, hadn't he? Hadn't he?
"Yeah…Barry mentioned that," Joe said like a threat, though he loosened his hold enough for Len's sock-clad feet to settle on the floor.
Len huffed out another shaky breath. "I don't know if Barry's right about Captain Cold, detective, I really don't. The kid has so much faith in me I know I don't deserve…but I promise I will do everything in my power to keep him safe from me."
Everything in my power to not remember who I was, Len thought in that same breath, because it wasn't enough that Cold had saved Barry, even if Len was using it as a way to appeal to Joe. He could only speak for himself now, and what he felt was an overwhelming urge to keep a smile on that dopey kid's face, not those downturned eyebrows. Captain Cold could never feel that way…
A rush of air left Joe as he stepped back, as if he had been holding his breath too. He let his fingers uncurl from Len's sweatshirt slowly, and Len knew part of the man wanted to slam him back into the wall again. But then this sorrow filled him, this powerful, deep remorse that Len couldn't imagine was because of him—but because of Barry.
"I believe you don't remember. You couldn't fake…this." He eyed Len like it was some awful sentence he'd just dropped. Then his face hardened. "You want to do good by me? By Barry?"
Len let himself sag against the wall. He nodded.
"Then honor what you just said. Because if you remember, and you do anything to hurt that boy, I swear I will hunt you down, and there will be a line out the precinct door willing to help me make what happens to you look like an accident."
Tension rippled over Len's shoulders at the threat. He didn't doubt that, or Joe's conviction to follow through with it. He nodded again.
"Good," Joe said. "Now get a hold of yourself, because when we get back in there, I want Barry thinking everything's square between us." He eyed Len up and down with something that might have been skepticism mixed with the faintest traces of hope. "You keep your promise…maybe one day it really will be."
Barry felt like his heart was going to flash-speed right out of his chest after hearing about Len's initial panic attack from Cisco and Caitlin. If he'd known something like that could happen, he never would have left for the precinct, screw the consequences.
It might have just been memories associated with the gun, but then Joe, and the fear that Barry had betrayed him, had nearly triggered an attack all over again.
"He probably has some post-traumatic stress he's dealing with," Caitlin said.
"From what?" Barry questioned.
The others looked at him incredulously until Cisco finally said, "Pick something."
Right, of course. He'd had a serious head injury, lost his memories, and hadn't exactly had an easy road to recovery so far. Not to mention there was so much about Len that Barry didn't know, past traumas he could never guess that might be just out of Len's memory, bleeding in from the edges. Like Len's father...
"I've been dealing with a little of this from Ronnie," Caitlin admitted.
Barry and Cisco looked over at her in surprise; she hadn't said anything about that before now, but it explained how she'd known what to do when Len started to panic again.
"It doesn't happen often," she assured them, "but when it does, you just have to keep them calm, remind them that they're safe, offer some soothing contact. I didn't want you guys to worry, but with what Ronnie's been through, anyone would need time to recover. And it's the same for Len. He's going to have a lot to work through."
And Joe was probably only adding to that, Barry thought with a frown. But as he did, glancing toward the lounge for the hundredth time—he hated that he couldn't see them from this vantage point—they appeared from around the corner, Len once again in the lead.
He looked...resolute? Definitely determined about something. He nodded at Barry and pulled on a valiant smile.
Joe looked to Barry as the pair came up to them. "I assume you're staying here the rest of the day?"
"Ugh...well I should stop home at some point, get some changes of clothes for me and Len, maybe some groceries for this place, but..." he looked at Len in support, "...I can stay as long as you need me. I was just gone, so..."
"Go home with your dad, Barry," Len said. "I'll be fine. Get whatever you need. I'm..." his gaze shifted none so subtly at Joe then back again, "I'm not feeling so hot again, so I was thinking of taking a nap."
Cisco snickered, and it irritated Barry at first, because he didn't think Joe getting inside Len's head like this was at all funny, until he realized the chuckle was because Len had said he wasn't feeling so 'hot'. Apparently he walked into puns unintentionally too.
"We'll make sure he eats some lunch first, okay?" Caitlin offered, and Len nodded that he'd go along with that.
"Okay..." Barry said, glancing at Joe who looked at him expectantly and maybe a little relieved that they'd be leaving together. "But I'm staying the night here again," he said defiantly, "so I'll be back soon. I promise." He focused on Len at that, on his ice blue eyes that crinkled in a way they never did as Captain Cold. The expression wasn't as controlled as Cold would have made it, just bare and hopeful.
But there was something else there now, something dark and sad and doubting. A part of Len had shifted, and Barry knew it was his fault, for leaving him, for bringing Joe, for everything.
"I'll be back," he said again, clinging to the thought that he could fix this, and followed Joe out of the lab.
Barry planned to be back at S.T.A.R. Labs in record time, but before he knew it, hours had passed. How time could still elude the fastest man alive, he'd never know.
Sure, there were some things about normal life he had to take care of, like bills ready for Monday's mail, groceries—some things to stay at home, other things to bring to the lab—then clothes and other essentials so he could go straight to work in the morning, not to mention things for Len. Several movies and a deck of cards were added to his pile. Len was going to get bored fast once he was fully recovered and no longer sleeping part of the day away. Barry needed his suitcase for it all.
Once he had everything squared away, he planned to grab some takeout for dinner on his way back. Len had had it rough; he deserved Thai food. Barry wanted to hit up his favorite restaurant for red and green curry. He hoped Len liked Thai. Was it possible to not like Thai? he wondered.
"Barry?"
Barry was at the door, staring at his closed suitcase, running through a list in his head of everything he'd packed to make sure it would be enough. He looked back at Joe, who stood with his arms crossed in the doorway to the kitchen. Joe's face was drawn, almost pinched with worry.
"I'll be fine. I already spent the night with him once." Barry fought the cringe that crept up as he said that, realizing his poor choice of words.
At least Joe didn't seem to notice, not that he looked accepting of the situation either. "Just be careful, Barry. Don't make it easy for him to prove you wrong."
"We'll prove you wrong, Joe, you'll see," Barry said with a bright, confident—he had to be confident—smile, as he hefted the suitcase. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Barry made it back with his full suitcase and several bags of family sized takeout just in time to say goodbye to the others. They'd waited for him, but were ready to head home for the night and maybe enjoy the last of their supposed weekends.
"Unless you need us to stay?" Caitlin asked. "Because we can, Barry, you just say the word. Len's still napping, but you should probably wake him soon or he won't be able to get any sleep tonight. He's been out since you left."
"You guys go home," Barry shook his head. "You've done more than enough. I know today has been crazy. I'll be fine. And after Len's feeling better, I'm sure there will be plenty of time for us to all hang out together," he grinned.
Cisco laughed openly, this pleased but also completely flabbergasted expression on his face. "I never thought I'd wish for the chance to hang with Captain Cold. I don't know what it is about him, you know? He's just so…real, like this. Not like the whole Cold persona. It's a little too easy to like him. I wonder if Lisa's ever like this…" he trailed.
Caitlin snorted. "Real? Or too easy to like? Because I think the second part has already worked wonders on you," she teased. "But don't fantasize too much. For all we know, she's not going to be a fan of this change." She turned back to Barry with worry creasing her brow. "See you in the morning, Barry. We'll try and get here early enough so Len isn't alone when you head to work."
Cisco nodded in agreement, while shooting Caitlin a glare for her Lisa comments.
Barry couldn't really fault Caitlin for the tease, even if it was tinged with actual concern. He understood that both Snarts had this strange charm about them, even when they were being insufferable. But if Len could be like this deep down—patient, and caring, and compassionate—maybe Lisa wasn't so different.
After leaving the takeout on the counter, Barry headed into the lounge with the suitcase. It was too early for dinner, but if he put the food in the fridge, it would get cold. Or was that flawed logic if he'd have to reheat it anyway? He figured it probably was, but was more concerned with waking Len.
The lights in the lounge were off. Barry often forgot where the individual controls were, since he was used to everything being on when he was at the labs, but he found the panel of switches on the wall and slowly brought the lights up. Len was curled on the couch, on his side again, to give his stiches some breathing room. He looked restless, snuggled into the blanket, not too deeply asleep. Once the lights were fully up, he stirred.
"Sorry," Barry said as he moved to the couch and peered over at Len with his arms resting on the back. "Caitlin said I should wake you. You've been out for hours, and you'll want to eat again soon. I brought Thai food."
"I love Thai," Len mumbled groggily.
Barry wasn't sure if he should be ecstatic that Len actually liked the food he'd brought, or terrified that he kept seeming to remember things. But that was silly. It was good for Len to remember. Barry couldn't just will Captain Cold away; he wanted Len to be himself and just…still want to be a good person. He didn't think that was too extravagant a desire given how Len was acting lately.
Barry moved around the sofa so he could sit in his usual spot, on the end, near the chaise side. He parked the suitcase by the coffee table. By now, Len was stretching more fully awake. He looked so happy for a moment, until—and Barry could only guess at what was happening—Len remembered everything that had happened during the day and slowly lost his mirth. He tried to keep his smile for Barry's sake, but soon he was just a hunched figure sitting up at the end of the sofa, looking at Barry like he wasn't sure what to do with himself.
"Do you want to talk about the panic attack?" Barry asked.
Len hunched in on himself further.
"Caitlin thinks there might be something there, and"—Barry really didn't want to repeat the phrase 'post-traumatic stress' to Len—"maybe I can help. If you want to talk about it? How it made you feel?"
"I'd rather not," Len said shortly.
Even Captain Cold wasn't one for short answers. It made Barry frown and sit up on the edge of his seat as he looked down the sofa at Len. "But it really scared you. They told me what happened, because of the cold gun, right? What was it about the gun? What did it feel like before you started to lose focus?"
A deep scowl painted Len's face. He tossed the blanket from his lap and whirled around to plant his feet on the floor and stand up. "I said I don't want to talk about it. It doesn't matter, Barry. It was a mistake. I shouldn't have touched that thing. It just made me feel…" He trailed, shaking his head with a brief grimace and then a look like he might be sick all over the floor. "I don't like the way it made me feel. I should stay away from it."
Barry knew there was something he was missing, but he felt like Len was trying to run away from this, and that couldn't be good, even if he thought he was running from something legitimately frightening.
Captain Cold didn't have to be frightening, not if Len wanted something more for himself. The man had saved Barry's life, despite having committed a crime to get his attention.
Barry stood, and crossed the narrow space between the sofa and coffee table to get closer to Len. "I won't ask you to tell me what Joe said to you, I can imagine. But I don't want you thinking you're not…allowed to remember who you are in order to be happy. If you can be like this now, you can be like this as the whole you too."
"No, I can't," Len said sharply, and it felt like instinct, like he hadn't meant to say it but it had slipped from his mouth anyway. His eyes went wide. "I…I don't want to remember, Barry. Remembering is filled with this awful buzzing and anger. I almost…" He took a deep breath and shook his head. "It would be better if I never remembered, don't you understand that? Then I could be like this and I'd never have to worry about hurting you." He started to back away, like he'd done earlier.
Barry didn't want him running from anything, especially not his true self. He reached out and grasped Len's forearm, holding him in place at the edge of the sofa. "That's not fair, Len. You're not a good person by chance. You're a good person because it's who you are. If Captain Cold needs a little convincing of that, then remembering might be the only thing—"
"I don't want to remember!" Len shouted, yanking his arm from Barry's grasp. For a moment his face was filled with such fury, Barry could barely remember a time when even his nemesis had looked at him like that. Len pulled his arms in against his chest, backing away another step, and another. "I don't want to hurt you…"
"You won't," Barry assured him, following without fear, reaching for Len again—
"Stop it!" Len cried, and bolted forward, pushing with both hands until they connected with Barry's chest and knocked him back.
Barry stumbled, unprepared, unable to use his reflexes or speed to avoid the contact. Met with Len's aggressive attack, he toppled and landed on the edge of the sofa cushions, only just catching himself so he didn't bounce and tumble further onto the floor.
Len looked down at him in horror. It didn't matter that Barry was far from hurt; Len looked as if he thought this was as bad as burning him—or like he'd raised his cold gun and frozen Barry to the spot. He faltered back, and Barry saw the way Len sucked in air, hyperventilating as he lost his breath again. His hands came up and pressed to either side of his head like he was in the worst pain.
"Len!" Barry flashed to his feet and over to Len in seconds. He didn't care if Len tried to push him away; he grabbed hold of Len's arms, firm but not too tight. "It's okay, you're okay…" he said softly, remembering from Caitlin.
Len looked at Barry in agony, clawing at the short stands of his hair. "I keep…remembering things. But I don't want to remember any more…"
"Len…" Barry said, pulling him in, even if it wasn't the right thing, even if Len fought against him—he gathered Len into his arms and crushed him to his chest.
A choked sob was Barry's reply. It felt like something of a win, though, when Barry felt Len burrow his face into his shoulder. "I…" Len's voice cracked, "…I remember feeling this way before…helpless, unable to breathe. He wouldn't stop, he never stopped, but I…I had to protect Lisa. She was the only beautiful thing in my life, and he couldn't have that, I wouldn't let him have that," his voice went gruff, darker. "It hurt, and I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't fight…not until I taught myself to be more like him."
Barry felt a chill run through him as he held Len tighter.
"He was hard, and he was cold. He wasn't afraid of anything. I had to be like that to beat him. I had to harden myself. And I did. For Lisa. She needed me…but I needed her to be strong too. I couldn't be hardened alone. We hardened together. We became what we had to be…until we were rid of him."
The grip on Barry increased, almost painful for a moment, but then Len sank against him limply, and his sobs were audible as he pressed his face to Barry's neck. The wet feel of warm tears was more than Barry would ever have needed to believe Len was a good guy in a bad situation. Like so many others in the world, he'd turned into what he had to in order to survive and protect the one he held most dear.
Len didn't say anything more, not in that steady, angry tone. He only said, "I can't…it's too…too close, too much," and he sniffed, and clung, and finished with, "I don't want to remember the rest…"
"Okay," Barry said. He wouldn't force him, but part of him believed Len had to remember eventually, not because of any greater good or sense of fate, but because it was already happening, and they could only postpone the inevitable for so long.
The other part of Barry, that cherished the feeling of Len against of him, of the sweet smiles and kind words, wanted to believe he could keep his new friend perfectly contained and safe forever.
Eventually, Len's tears dried, but when he tried to pull away, Barry backed them toward the sofa. He sat with Len—close—practically leaned into him, hands in his own lap but wanting to touch Len again, somehow, to keep comforting him, but he didn't know how to do that without it seeming strange. So he just looked at Len, and tried to convey with his expression how much he wanted Len to be happy and at peace.
The way Len looked back at him made him think he'd succeeded. Len's breaths were shaky as he said, "Tell me more about you, Barry. I don't want to think about me. Tell me about you."
Barry didn't know how much more there was to tell, but then he thought of his mother, and how, while vastly different, her death had made him feel much the same as how Len described feeling with his father. Terrified, angry, helpless, like there was nothing he could do. He told Len that, so he wouldn't feel alone in the dark. There was plenty of darkness to go around, but it didn't feel so bad with someone else there.
That they sat on the sofa with the line of their thighs touching warmed Barry and only further convinced him that whatever happened, Len would always be Len.
Len had been touched when Barry shared details about himself that were as painful as what Len himself had revealed. The kid shouldered too much for someone so young, so kind-hearted. It made Len relieved when, after Barry's stomach rumbled and they remembered that takeout was waiting in the kitchen, they spread out the food on the coffee table and watched Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Something familiar in a different way, light and funny, was just what they needed.
Len loved hearing the kid laugh.
Barry started to doze first, and actually fell sleep on Len's shoulder, sitting with his knees curled up to the side. Len could barely bring himself to move him, until his side and neck started to burn from the odd position to keep Barry from falling off his shoulder. He eventually helped Barry lie back, who barely stirred, only mumbled sleepily and content, until he was in the same spot he'd been in the night before. Len laid back, their legs crossing each other on the sofa.
He was afraid to sleep, afraid of the dreams that might come after remembering so much more today. It was all wrapped up in emotion, and Lisa, and his childhood so far, but that could so easily change. As he lay there, he thought of the cold gun in the other room, and wanted to take it apart again, change it somehow so it could never ever be used to hurt someone again so badly that they never recovered. He wondered if he could…
Then he was out, drifting in calm quiet, thankful no dreams chased him, until he startled awake. He wasn't sure if it had even been an hour since he fell asleep. Barry hadn't moved. As Len sat up a little and looked down at him, he couldn't help thinking that if they weren't lying head to toe, he'd be hard-pressed not to kiss the kid.
The sound of footsteps, of someone moving through the labs set him on high alert. He hadn't woken up by accident. He thought of waking Barry, but feared he was hearing things and wanted to check for himself. Not just anyone could sneak into this place.
Quietly, he slipped from the sofa, moving around it toward the entrance out to the labs. The noises were soft, subtle, the movement of someone searching, he thought, but there was definitely someone, unless he finally was losing his mind.
He inched closer to the doorway against the wall, biding his time. Like so many other things from today, this felt familiar; the anticipation, the knowledge of just how swift or slow he needed to move to stay silent. When he bolted around the corner, he was ready, hands grabbing at the weapon he found on the stranger and pinning it back into the wall before they could act.
"Hey!" a female voice hissed. "Lenny? What the hell are you doing?"
Len squinted through the darkness to get a better look at the person he had pinned. The long brown hair. Blue eyes so like his own. The angry twist to her features as she glared at him. "Lisa?"
TBC...