Barry had never run so fast in his life—well, no, he knew that couldn't be true, not when he'd gone back in time and run fast enough to stop the end of the world, or at least the end of Central City. But it felt like the fastest he'd ever gone when there was a single life held in the balance instead of many, as he flashed toward S.T.A.R. Labs, unable to slow his momentum even a little, or he wouldn't have been able to hold onto the block of ice that had once been Leonard Snart.
Without slowing, he took a moment within the familiar whirlwind of the speed force to look at Len, and he could see him through the mostly transparent ice, his eyes closed, his expression frozen into one of furrowed brow and resignation. It couldn't end like this, not another instance when what was at fault was that Barry simply hadn't been fast enough.
He'd memorized the layout of S.T.A.R. Labs by now, knew exactly where to go to reach the room Cisco had indicated, with an overlarge basin for a hydroponics project he remembered Cisco once jabbering on about would also be perfect if they ever encountered a meta that breathed underwater. For now, Barry just hoped it filled with water fast enough because it was currently empty.
He reached the room and set Len down with a huff. He was stronger than he used to be but it was complicated, still connected largely to his speed, and it was difficult to hold up the awkward shape and weight of a block of human ice once he stopped.
Cisco and Caitlin were there to meet him, Cisco's hands flying over controls that at that same moment caused the tub to start filling with water.
"Temperature control is crucial so he doesn't go into shock, if he hasn't already," Cisco said as he saw Barry, then faltered when his eyes landed on Len. "Shit," he said as he paused and then renewed his frenzied button pressing. "Wait until it's at least halfway full, then get him in the tank."
Caitlin had a medical kit with her, though it wouldn't be as effective as the real equipment upstairs. For now, she was on standby, with a blanket spread over the floor in front of the tank where they could lay Len once he was thawed.
"It'll be okay, Barry," she said when their eyes met.
Barry nodded, catching his breath. He didn't want to imagine how different things would be if Len hadn't worked with Cisco to reprogram the gun before he left. He pressed a gloved hand to the ice. Len was like a seated statue, the chair he was tied to encased with him. But the tub was filling quickly, so Barry readied himself for the moment when Cisco gave the okay.
"Now," Cisco ordered, and Barry took off, doing one quick lap around the room to gain momentum again and then hoisting Len up and into the tank.
The ice splashed without fully sinking at first, then became more and more engulfed. It settled to the floor of the tub as it began to dissolve, much faster than Barry had expected, since Cisco had said he'd start with lukewarm water the way it was done with hypothermia patients.
"I added a solution that should help counteract the chemicals from the cold gun faster than simply melting it," Cisco explained, picking up on Barry's confused scowl. "He should be out of the ice in less than two minutes. Then you need to get him out of there."
"Thank you," Barry gasped, not knowing what else there was to say. He finally remembered he was still in his Flash suit, and tore his mask back from his face.
"Thank me later," Cisco said, his expression drawn, unsure but still with that familiar look of not giving up even while thinking rationally—just like a scientist.
Caitlin shifted anxiously, as she knelt with her medical kit beside the blanket, implying she'd be ready the moment Barry got Len out.
Waiting had become one of the more difficult things for Barry since becoming The Flash. Whenever there was a situation he couldn't speed his way through, it felt like agony, like the slowest few seconds of his life to just wait, and wait, until the clock ticked down.
"He's out. Barry, now!" Cisco called.
Barry had Len out of the tub, untied, and the chair tossed away into the corner of the room in seconds, lying him down, soaked through now in his slacks and button down, as gently as he could atop the blanket. He wasn't breathing.
"Caitlin." Barry didn't mean for his breath to catch, he really didn't, but he couldn't stop the surge of fear and panic from rising.
"No pulse. He's already in shock." She ripped his shirt open midway, destroying several of the buttons. "Barry, I need you to—" She cut herself off as she looked at his hands.
Barry understood immediately, fully focused on what she was asking of him, and commanded his hands to vibrate until they were an indistinct blur. "Tell me when."
She tilted Len's head back to clear his airway. "Now."
Barry brought his hands to Len's bare chest with a shock and pulse of lightning. Caitlin gave two breaths of mouth to mouth, but there was no response.
"Again, Barry."
Another jolt.
Another two breaths.
"Again."
On the third jolt, Len gasped and coughed and rolled to the side away from Caitlin, sputtering only trace amounts of water before he went limp. Caitlin rolled him to his back again, but he was out, his chest moving up and down at a steady rhythm the only indication that this was at least better, he was better, but he wasn't out of the woods yet.
Caitlin checked his vitals with careful precision, and only then did Barry notice that Cisco had walked up to them, hovering nearby with his arms crossed and agitated as he swayed. Barry looked to his friend gratefully, then to Caitlin who sighed in relief, seemingly satisfied with everything she'd discovered.
"Barry, I need you to get him up to the main labs now," Caitlin said, "on the hospital bed so I can do a more thorough check. He should be okay, but there's no way to know about later trauma or more serious damage until we get him up there and wait for him to regain consciousness. Keep him as still as you can along the way, and…well…" She cringed a little as she looked down at Len's soaked form. "Dry clothes would be helpful if you can manage."
Even if Barry hadn't helped Len change before, or seen him under more intimate circumstances, there would be no threat of embarrassment today, not if anything he did meant Len would get better faster. "I'll meet you up there," he said, and took Len into his arms.
He flashed up to the main floor with practiced ease and laid Len back on the same hospital bed he'd first rested him on when he brought him here all those days ago. Days—it felt like so much longer, in both good and terrible ways.
He sped through getting a towel and fresh clothes from the closet, and had Len dry and changed into S.T.A.R. Labs sweats in moments. Len's heartrate remained steady, his breaths rhythmic in his unconscious state. His skin didn't even look reddened from the cold.
Then Barry remembered the photograph from the post online, and pulled up the pant leg on Len's left leg. He hadn't looked too closely while changing him, but now he could see that the leg that had been iced for hours looked raw, like the beginnings of frost bite or a burn. He kept the pant leg rolled up so Caitlin could see it.
Then all he could do was wait for them to join him. He pulled up a stool and sat by Len's head, amazed and so disbelieving that they were even here, early afternoon only hours since he'd seen Len that morning, when he'd be so angry and distraught, he thought he'd want to either cry or punch things for the remainder of the week. Now he just wanted Len to be okay. To open his eyes.
For a brief moment he wondered if all this trauma would lead to memory loss again, but god he hoped not. Barry couldn't go through that again, and Len shouldn't have to. Barry missed the friend he'd made, but he didn't want him as some substitute for the real thing, some altered life model decoy. That wasn't fair. Len had a right to make his own decisions about what he wanted and who he was. Barry just hoped…
He didn't know what he hoped. He still didn't know if he could forgive this man the things he'd said and done, but he couldn't stand the thought of not being allowed to try. If Len asked, if Len wanted forgiveness.
Barry wondered when it was he'd stopped thinking of Len as just Cold again.
He heard the elevator, the rustle of Cisco and Caitlin approaching, so he reached out quickly, laid a hand on Len's forehead and passed it soothingly back over the short, buzzed strands of hair. "Just wake up, okay? Just wake up… You can make all this up to me later," he finished with a small, faltering smile.
Then Caitlin and Cisco were there, checking Len over, a whirl of machines and tubes and sounds, and Barry just felt in the way. He took the stool with him and moved to the far side of the room to wait for the chaos to still again. Neither of them ever looked hopeless or resigned, just serious, diligent, and focused on their jobs.
They really were remarkable people, saving the enemy with the same careful care as they would have tried to save Barry. They inspired Barry as much as anyone in his life, and he hoped they knew that, though he probably never said it enough, but he was so thankful for them in that moment, watching them work, a whole other caliber of hero.
Time stopped making sense for the next several minutes, both slow and amazingly fast. Barry changed out of the Flash suit, grabbed his phone, checked in with Joe and Eddie. He hadn't even really taken the time to wonder if Mick and Lisa would go against his wishes once he flashed out of there, but there had been no fire, no bodies found covered in gold, other than the one man from Santini with his hand coated.
Apparently, the kids that had remained in the building had been threatened with penalty of being turned to cinders later if they didn't wait for the police to show up. They were all in custody, with no one who had made the threat anywhere in sight.
Several other criminals with outstanding warrants for arrest had been apprehended in the area, so it was an overall huge win for the CCPD, and for Joe and Eddie in particular who had 'discovered' the post about Captain Cold and thought to send in uniforms before things got ugly. The fact that Leonard Snart was nowhere to be found was just as well, since he currently didn't have any evidence against him in any ongoing cases, which of course Barry took as a slight jab from Joe when he reminded him of that. CCPD wouldn't be looking for Len at any rate, even if many others throughout the city probably would.
But Joe finished by letting Barry know he'd be by to check on things as soon as he and Eddie finished up at the station. He didn't like the idea of Barry and the others being alone with Cold again. Of course Barry reminded him that Lisa and Mick would be headed over too, so to please, please not use any of their potential warrants against them, because they had an uneasy truce right now that Barry intended to honor, at least until Len was recovered. If something changed between them and the Rogues after that, well…so be it. But Barry wasn't going to be the one to setup the betrayal. He didn't want to be that man. He didn't want to be like...
Cold.
So in the midst of watching Cisco and Caitlin tend to Len and declare him in stable condition, and texting Joe, along with some encouraging, supportive texts from Eddie, Barry was thrown by how quickly enough time passed that Mick and Lisa showed up to join them.
As soon as Lisa saw Len on the table, hooked up to several machines that blessedly showed a steady pulse and perfectly normal vitals, and Cisco gave her an encouraging smile, the tightness in her walk and shoulders vanished. She and Mick had come in completely silent, and Barry only really registered it when he had to drop his phone on the table beside him to accept Lisa's body pressed to his, arms wrapping tight around his neck. He didn't know how to respond except to hold her back.
She moved to Cisco next, embracing him a little more full bodied, Barry thought, murmuring quiet thank you's over and over, and it made Barry smile because...Len would be okay. Even the bad guys deserved a moment with their families.
Barry couldn't think of them as the bad guys right now though, not when Mick's large hand came down on his shoulder, the man's hard, tight gaze somehow betraying a rarely seen softness in his gratitude. Barry nodded; he'd just done his job, after all, but then...he knew he'd worked harder, ran faster, and second guessed himself that much more through every second of it purely because it was Len, and he cared, really cared about Len despite everything. He...
He turned away from Mick's intense stare as he felt the tears he'd been holding back start to rise again. He focused on Lisa moving the stool he'd used before to sit beside Len herself now while Cisco explained that Caitlin was just as instrumental in saving Cold, and the pair of them tried to tell her that he should be okay, but that they had to wait until he woke up to know for certain.
Lisa just nodded, held her brother's hand, said, "You'll be fine, Lenny, you know better than to leave me alone again..." and smiled in contentment.
Barry heard Mick sniff, a short, barely perceptible noise, and when he looked over, while there was no obvious wetness in the man's eyes, there was a subtle challenge there, daring Barry to comment about Heat Wave getting choked up. Barry smiled and patted Mick's arm—he wasn't foolish enough to poke that bear—and moved aside to let Lisa and Mick have some time alone with Len.
The first thing Len became aware of was how wonderfully warm he was, in softer fabrics than his suit, the shirt and slacks he thought he last remembered wearing. Then came distant voices, ones he knew, thank goodness, ones he knew wouldn't hurt him, ones he loved—Lisa, he definitely heard Lisa—each voice sounding calm and quiet, not hurried or concerned.
But next came the pain, a throbbing pulse all over his skin, like a faint sunburn that hurt enough to wake him, and then his leg—oh god, his leg! It ached with some of the worst pain he'd ever experienced, and the sudden sharp, unbearable sting made him cry out.
He turned and thrashed and tried to roll over in the darkness.
"Len!" called Lisa.
And he was weightless, falling, heading for the floor, but he never made contact. Someone had him, someone caught him, and the next moment he had something solid beneath his back again.
Len groaned. He wanted to open his eyes, but feared the pain would only grow worse in the light of day, so he reached out for that someone beside him, his hand shaking until soft, warm skin gripped it.
"Caitlin, he's in pain. We have to give him something."
Barry. It was Barry.
Len hung on tighter. Everything felt muddled in his head. His iced leg, a dark room, tied to a chair seeing Barry coming to rescue him, but he wasn't fast enough, wasn't going to make it in time before the cold had Len and everything went black. It didn't make sense. Whatever had happened, Barry had saved him though. And fuck, it hurt...
"Already on it," Caitlin said, close on Len's other side, and bless them for having some sort of stronger pain meds finally in the lab—Len knew that's where he had to be—because he felt instant relief as whatever Caitlin was giving him coursed through his veins.
They had an IV in him; he must be in pretty bad shape.
"Len, I need you to try and look at me, okay?" Caitlin's voice filtered down to him.
As the pain subsided, the request didn't sound quite as nauseating, but he still grimaced at the bright light of the room when he first dared comply. His vision was blurry a moment before it focused on Caitlin's hovering, fretful face. She had one of those doctor pen lights that were so annoying to have shined in your eyes, and he knew what was coming.
"Follow the light for me," she said, and blinded him with a few quick flashes while he did as she asked. He had a headache and his jaw throbbed for some reason, but that seemed to be fading in the wake of the pain meds too.
Len felt his right hand being lowered to the hospital bed from how he had it suspended to reach for Barry, the kid's fingers starting to release him, to let go. Len appreciated the rest back on the bed, but tightened his grip on Barry's fingers. It seemed so important to hang onto him, but Len couldn't remember why.
He risked a glance at the kid as Caitlin moved on to check other things, and when their eyes met, Len gave Barry a sort of grimacing smile—because it hurt and he felt like he couldn't really move, but there was this blissful numbness enclosing around him that made it all seem somehow less important than the returned smile, however strained, and damp hazel eyes looking down at him.
A hand gently touched his ankle, the right one since the left still stung and seemed to have the pants leg pulled up. Len glanced down to see Lisa at his feet, smiling in relief, with Mick beside her looking all sorts of put out, which Len recognized as his 'how dare you make us worry, you ass' expression. It all seemed a little surreal with them there, and Barry and Caitlin on either side of him, even Cisco peering over Lisa's shoulder with a slight frown on his face.
"Len?" Caitlin said, and he thought maybe she'd said his name a couple times actually. He looked to her again and she offered that polite smile with downturned eyebrows he was used to when she was worried more than sincere. He must have shown his own worry in the wake of it, because she pressed on, "You're fine. Really. We need to keep an eye on things for a while, keep you for observation to make sure there aren't any surprises, but it looks like you should recover. Your leg though…the one that was in the ice longer…" She bit her lip.
His leg. It had been iced first. By his own gun, he remembered, and as it started to come back to him, he recalled a vicious, crazed young man and a feeling of helpless absolution.
Cisco pushed around the others to come up next to Caitlin. "What we did to reprogram the cold gun lessened what the damage might have been, but your leg was still iced for hours. There's some deep tissue damage beneath the more superficial skin damage, so you'll probably have trouble walking on it for a while. A little regular physical therapy should make that easier, and eventually, it should fully heal, though to be honest, it might always give you a little trouble from now on." He didn't look particularly bothered to give Len this news, maybe even a little indignantly justified.
And Len knew even before the last of the haziness lifted from his memories that he couldn't blame the kid. He really, really couldn't.
His eyes drifted back to Barry, and it dawned on him as he remembered everything with an awful jolt…that he didn't deserve to clutch that hand. The truth came back to him so much faster than the first time he'd lost his memories, like watching a recording rewind as he stared into Barry's eyes.
Their gazes meeting across that cold, damp room, a beam of ice already on its way to cover Len, knowing he was out of time and accepting of it, because he'd gotten himself into that mess all on his own.
Realizing he wanted to take back every way he'd torn the kid down, longing for just one more moment to see Barry again, to tell him he wished he could try and be a better man.
The ridiculousness of being bested by a bunch of brats.
The crippling grief when Len realized he hadn't meant any of the things he'd said to Barry in that warehouse, and never would. He just wanted to take it all back, but Barry was walking away, flashing out of his life again, and he couldn't get the words past his lips before he blacked out.
Thinking that the only way he could ever be free of Barry Allen was by breaking him into jagged pieces—and he'd succeeded.
"Barry," he said, his voice cracking from emotion and the trauma of what his body had gone through. But what else could he say? He didn't deserve forgiveness.
He let his hand go limp until Barry slid his own fingers away and stood tall beside him, nodding with a sort of stiff detachment that Len hated, because it wasn't that he didn't want to apologize, he just didn't know how to start.
He hadn't been able to think of anything but Barry while he was nursing a frozen leg and a bruised ego, and now all the ways he'd imagined trying to make this up to Barry turned stale on his tongue.
Lisa was there in Barry's place, and Mick, Team Flash forgotten as Lisa hugged him far gentler than he was used to, mindful of the tubes in his arm and nearby machines. Mick merely nodded in satisfaction despite the state Len was in. He'd be fine, no reason to get emotional—that was Mick—but that he was here at all said more than enough.
Lisa stayed leaning over the bed, hands fingering the fabric of the S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt Len had been dressed in—again. At least it was warm.
"I'm going to spend the entire time you're recovering thinking of ways to get back at you for this," Lisa promised him with a twinkle of mischief breaking through her distress. "I can't believe you lied to me. To me, Lenny. Though I guess I don't know how I would have reacted if you'd confessed you didn't even remember your own name that night."
It took Len a moment to realize that she was saying she knew; she knew the whole truth, about everything, which meant Barry and the others knew it hadn't been a lie or a scam. Len felt his body tense with the realization that all of his secrets were laid bare before people he'd so rarely been honest with.
"Got your cold gun though," Mick said, producing it like some awful magic trick from out of his large jacket, which he was still wearing despite being rid of his gloves and goggles. He held the gun up harmlessly, but the sight of it made Len's insides lurch remembering how the ice had felt on his skin.
"Hey!" Cisco darted forward from where he, Barry, and Caitlin had backed off, his expression challenging and assertive despite their size difference and Mick being armed. "You can't just wave that around. It's not yours. It's not his either, technically," Cisco shot Len a quick glare, "so if you're going to be staying here while Cold recovers, I expect you to let me lock that and both of your guns away."
"You wanna see if you can make me?" Mick lowered the cold gun but loomed over Cisco menacingly, and Len had to give credit to the kid, because he only just barely flinched.
But the part of Len that wanted to smirk and egg Mick on, to see how far Cisco could be pushed, dwindled with the feeling of something else pushing to the surface—a feeling of not wanting this sweet kid to be afraid of him, when against all odds, he'd believe in Len, helped him, told him that maybe if he just had the will, he could be the man he really wanted to be instead of what he'd fallen into, and who'd told him he could stay, right here, for as long as he wanted.
Len saw that offer crumbled into dust now—or maybe ash in the wake of Mick's flames.
"Do what he says, Mick. You too, Lisa," Len commanded with as much authority in his words as he could muster in his weakened state. "Hand over the guns."
Mick looked at him like he'd lost his damn mind, and the funny things was, Len had. He had lost his mind, found it again, and gotten it so turned around, he didn't know what was real anymore, but he knew he didn't want to see Mick and Cisco at each other's throats.
"It's just temporary, Mick. When we leave, we'll take them back." He eyed Cisco stoically, who shook his head with a deep-seated scowl like he honestly couldn't believe Len, even if he was telling the others to do as he asked.
"I shouldn't let you take them back at all," Cisco snarled, "but fine. I shudder to think what you'd do to me if I tried to say no." But there wasn't any fear in his words, not even when he glared back at Mick and held out his hand for the cold gun.
Len had never seen Cisco so defiant and bold. He remembered a frightened young man who'd shivered and pleaded for his brother's safety before sobbing out Barry Allen's identity, hating himself for having no other option than betrayal of a good friend, and looking hunched and weak and lost because of it. This was a different young man entirely.
Mick begrudgingly handed the gun over, then removed his own gun from his coat and handed that to Cisco as well, and despite the heavy load, Cisco waited for Lisa to unclip hers from her belt before moving away with all of them gathered in his arms to store in a locker set against the wall.
"Just for tonight," Len said when Lisa raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, and Mick clenched his fists. "In the morning, we'll take them back…and we'll be out of your hair," he turned his head to address Barry.
Barry's arms fell out of how he'd had them crossed, his frowning expression turning blank.
Caitlin, however, stormed forward. "What? No! You can't just leave in the morning, not until we've had more time to assess your condition." She braced her hands on the foot of the bed and looked at Len seriously. "Your heart stopped. You weren't breathing when we got you out of the ice."
A fresh chill ran down Len's spine, but he shook it away. "Look, you don't want us here anymore than we want to be here, so we'll stay the night, and as long as I don't flat line in my sleep, in the morning we'll be gone."
An immediate, disbelieving huff sounded from Barry, but he didn't approach Len or the others as Cisco and Caitlin had. He kept his distance, crossed his arms again, and met Len's gaze with a fury. "Well you certainly are good at that trick, so why am I surprised. Round two, same ending. You leave and we just go right back to how things were before, like nothing ever happened. Why do I keep…?" But as the anger in his voice gave way to something heavier and catching, he let himself trail off and tightened his arms to will the emotions away.
The coldness of it made Len's chest feel tight.
"Fine," Barry snapped, only looking at him long enough to glare and then tearing his eyes away. "Whatever. Do what you want. But if you have some sort of relapse from leaving before you've recovered, don't expect us to answer your call the next time you need our help." He turned and started to walk away, heading out of the room.
But no, wait—that wasn't what Len wanted! He just didn't want to be a burden, didn't want to be some awful reminder of everything he'd done when it had seemed so clear to him that they wanted nothing more to do with him.
Cisco looked pissed as he approached after storing the guns away, and Caitlin, on Len's other side, held herself stiffly, her lips tight like Len remembered both of them from when they'd discovered him with Barry in the lounge that first morning. Len had forced Barry away again, when all he'd wanted this time was to protect him.
"You should get some rest," Caitlin said, eyeing Lisa and Mick with apprehension, and Len with barely contained disdain. Her disapproval stung more than it should for someone he'd known for so short a time. She glanced at the others again. "Meaning it would be better if you all left, and frankly…if you're going to stick around the labs, you better steer clear of Barry. He hasn't been himself lately," she finished shortly, and turned to follow after Barry out of the room.
Lisa hovered as Cisco and Mick dispersed, following Caitlin's lead. Mick made a half-hearted lunge for Cisco just to see him flinch, and Lisa rolled her eyes at the antics.
"Don't worry, I'll smooth things over with those two. You know Mick means well," she said. "Well…in regards to you, and he'll leave Cisco alone if he knows what's best for him in regards to me." She smirked, then planted her hand on her hip as she said, "Now…I think this is the part where you start begging for forgiveness."
Len sighed. "Lisa, I'm sorry I lied to you, I just—"
"Not to me, idiot," she shot back. "Though we can come back to how you're going to make this up to me later."
The truth of what she meant dawned on Len like the clang of a bell, and the way her smile fell into something like sympathy more than sisterly teasing only made it worse. "Lisa…I can't make up for what I tried to do to him. You didn't see how far I took it when I had him alone."
"No, I didn't," she admitted, "But who the hell cares? You actually want to make up for it. You! I don't even have to hear the whole story to know that much, and I heard about the memory loss, the panic attacks. Jesus, Lenny… You want him. Barry Allen. A goddamn CSI and local superhero," she all but laughed. "You want him so much, you've been making yourself sick, and almost got yourself killed."
He flinched back as she let her arm drop and pressed both of her hands to the bed, the humor in her expression falling away entirely.
"Do you know how worried about you the kid was through all of it? Almost as much as me, and that's saying something. This isn't a one way thing, Lenny."
"It's not that simple," he said, and damn it…he was so tired, and feeling the fuzziness left by the drugs stronger than ever, but he struggled to focus on Lisa's face.
"I know it's not," she said. "And I'm not saying there's a simple answer. But you have to start somewhere, and what you just pulled, the strong, silent, everything will be fine if we just go back to the way things were act, is not going to fly this time, not unless you want to have a panic attack on every job we ever pull again in the future."
Len's brow furrowed almost against his will as a flutter of anger surged through him. "I thought you didn't think he was worth the trouble. That nothing could ever change enough in me for it to matter. That nothing good could ever come from wanting him?"
Sadness overtook Lisa's pale blue eyes, in a way Len rarely saw from adult Lisa the way he remembered of his little sister, and that instantly made him want to pull her close to him and hold her. "I know, Lenny. And I really thought that was the truth back then. But I guess I underestimated you, coz here we are. And maybe here isn't so bad a place to be." She turned her head, and the longing on her face didn't need the form of Cisco within eyesight for it be obvious what she wanted.
Len felt as low as he yet had, because he was starting to realize that if he had stayed away, she would have too, even if she wanted to try for something Len never thought he'd want for himself. "You don't have to take your cues from me, you know," he said softly.
She turned back to him with a weak smile. "Yeah, but…you'd get lonely if I didn't stick around. What's that stupid saying you always use, Lenny, the one about dancing?" She grinned with a sort of wistful sway as she stood up straight again. "If we're all fools together…"
"…then we might as well dance," he finished. It was one of those sayings he never remembered the origins of, but that always seemed to fit the moment, because hell, it was the mantra for his whole life, and he didn't mind that—being a fool—as long as he enjoyed life and got what he wanted out of it.
The problem was…he wanted something he'd never prepared for or anticipated.
"Get some rest, Lenny," Lisa said, apparently deciding it was time to let him think on all she'd said, and what had happened. And he really was so tired.
The soft clicks and beeps of the medical equipment were a strange though fitting lullaby, as Lisa kissed his forehead and headed out of the room.
She paused on her way out the door. "You grew a conscious where that bleeding heart idiot carved a hole in you. Adorable idiot, but an idiot. Just like you. Going clean…shoot, Lenny," she chuckled, "it does sound boring. But going clean with Team Flash? I don't know if that would be boring at all."
As she finally left him alone, Len thought on her words, her advice, and just what it would take to finally get everything he wanted. When his eyes drifted closed in the calm numbness of the drugs in his system, he just hoped that if he dreamed, they were nicer dreams than the ones he'd had lately.
TBC...