Len didn't dream, which was a blessing, not about anything tangible or that he could remember when he started to rouse. He slept hard the first few hours, dead to the world entirely, but started to phase back in to the sound of voices hushed around him. He assumed it was early evening now, but couldn't really grasp how much time had passed since he was last awake.

The first voice he noticed was Detective West talking with Caitlin, asking if she was certain it was safe to let him stay, not to mention the other Rogues, seeming only slightly appeased when she informed him that her husband would be staying the night as well. They would face this as a unified front, and nothing was going to sneak up on them again.

Len remembered Ronnie—Firestorm. Mick would no doubt be pleased, if only to ply the other man with questions about how exactly he could erupt into flames and come out of it unscathed.

Len drifted in and out again, and eventually heard Lisa and Cisco. All the short, biting animosity Cisco had shown earlier facing down Mick was gone from his voice now, but Len couldn't quite catch what they were talking about. He just knew that Lisa sounded…soft. She never sounded soft.

He eventually caught that Lisa and Mick were leaving for a short time to gather some clothes and necessary items for staying the night, and whatever they might need to head out in the morning. 'Might' being the main word Len caught from Lisa, because he knew she wouldn't rest until he agreed to stay longer, even if it meant Cisco threatened to keep their guns for longer too.

Mick and Lisa. Caitlin and Ronnie. Cisco. They were all staying at the labs for the night with Len, to watch over him—and each other—and yet it was more the humor of it all that struck Len rather than thoughts of this crew being such strange bedfellows and distrustful of each other. A giant sleepover in the lounge of S.T.A.R. Labs while Len remained hooked up to machines in the other room. Hilarious.

Only Barry wasn't included in the voices, or any of the names mentioned, other than one final, brief word from West that Barry had gone home. Maybe he honestly hoped Len would be gone in the morning so he wouldn't have to see him again. Len would stay longer if only to get the chance to try and make it up to Barry that he'd once again said all the wrong things.

Finally, the next time he woke, he actually opened his eyes, noting the silence and the dark, other than a dim light on near him and the blinking lights from the machines. He really needed to use the bathroom. There was a call button attached to the bed, but he wasn't sure who it alerted, and he didn't want to be a bother, or wake everyone for something as benign as nature calling.

He took a moment to assess himself; he felt groggy, fuzzy, but not so much that he couldn't hobble his way to the bathroom. Carefully, he pulled out the IV and a few suctioned monitors from his chest, sending the machines into a thankfully silent tizzy. He wouldn't be long.

Len remembered his leg about the time he first put weight on it, probably because it was also when his body gave an all over ache from being disconnected from the steady drip of pain meds. But it wasn't like earlier. He could breathe through it, he could make it.

He kept his weight on his right leg, but his first step proved how weak the left was and he nearly sank to the floor. He flailed back to grab the bed.

"What are you doing?" an irritated voice hissed at him.

Len looked over at the entrance into the lounge to see Cisco—longer hair somewhat tussled, dressed in a T-shirt and sweats, barefoot—so normal and domestic, save for the tablet in his hand and the strained exasperation playing over his face.

"Trying to get to the bathroom," Len whispered back. He didn't like the way his stomach flipped being under Cisco's scrutiny, or the feeling of helplessness at not being able to stand.

"Why didn't you press the button?" Cisco snapped as he moved swiftly across the room.

"I didn't know where it would go," Len defended.

"Here." Cisco thrust out the tablet, which currently showed the heart monitor and a continuous, straight, blinking line. "Like you flat-lining."

Oh. Shit. "Sorry," Len said reflexively, though reflexive of what exactly he didn't know. Being in the labs with Cisco? Or maybe just because he meant it.

Cisco met his gaze in the dark, and a twinge of remorse was there, though Len wasn't sure for what, because it was replaced in moments with frustration again. Cisco set the tablet down and moved in to take Len's side and save him from his awkward leaning on the bed.

Len tried to support as much of his own weight as he could—the kid was quite a bit smaller than him after all—but Cisco held him up steadily and they started the slightly more arduous trek to the bathroom than Len had expected. Len tried to think of something to say as they moved, anything, but then they were crossing the lounge, and the soothing sound of deep breathing reminded him that everyone else was asleep.

Lisa and Mick had the sofa, Mick the long way where Len had once slept, and Lisa down the chaise side that Barry had hardly used. The cot Barry had literally never used was disrupted with hastily tossed blankets, indicating Cisco had come from there. And in the corner, gathered together on an air mattress, slept Caitlin and Ronnie. The sight didn't fail to amuse Len, but the absence of Barry kept him from smiling.

It was strange not feeling any of the desire to hurt Barry that he had felt the morning before, when he'd thought that breaking his nemesis was the only option. Len was the one who was ruined now, and he knew he'd earned it.

Cisco helped him to the bathroom and into the handicap stall so he could more easily keep himself steady without needing the kid to actually assist any further, which was more than enough; Len could make this work. He did so without trouble, and actually managed to put a little more weight on his leg when he hefted himself up and moved out of the stall again, limping but moving on his own. Cisco still appeared to support him and helped lead him to the sinks.

Len saw his reflection for the first time since that morning—it was jarring enough that he didn't immediately wash his hands, but stared. He looked pale, his eyes darkened with fatigue, the S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt a bold reminder of the past week.

But more striking than any of the rest was the bruising. He'd anticipated it, but over the past few hours, it had set in more vibrantly. It was a deep, dark purple now, with sickly green and strained pink around the edges. It covered the entire left side of his jaw, right around the bone, and when Len touched fingers gingerly to the splattering of color, he instantly hissed, even with some faint traces of medication left in his system. He wondered how much worse it would look if Barry had punched any harder.

As he leaned forward on the sink, washing his hands without being able to take his eyes off of his sorry state through the mirror, he caught Cisco's gaze behind him. The kid still held a hand to Len's back in case he stumbled, but leaned away and frowned like he was wishing for an excuse to add a few more bruises to the collection.

"Don't hold back on my account," Len said, unsure how to face this challenge when he hadn't yet figured out how he was going to face Barry.

He turned around and leaned back on the sink so Cisco didn't have to support him. The younger man's dark eyes held mostly loathing, but there was something else there too.

Len spread his hands like an invitation. "I'd say I've been through worse, but I suppose that's not entirely true. Still, if you want to take a shot, be my guest."

Cisco clenched his fists like he was sorely tempted to take him up on that offer. "You know what the worst part is?" he grit out. "That I'm the one who tried to convince Barry to give you another chance."

Len blinked at him, shocked.

"He didn't tell us everything that happened at the bank," Cisco went on, "Lisa doesn't know, only you and Barry, but I know it was bad. Still, Caitlin and I called him back here, before we found out about you being taken. I showed him what you looked like when you got out of the labs and first tried to walk away from the building."

There were cameras outside the labs facing the building? Len hadn't expected that. But if there were, then he instantly knew what Cisco was referring to. The way he'd first shaken and second guessed himself when he tried to leave, unsure if he really could, but determined, stubborn in his resolve to put this behind him. To put Barry behind him.

"You want to know what I first thought when I found that footage?" Cisco said, as confident and resolute as Len had yet seen him. "I thought, shit, that's what. I thought, fuck this, it isn't fair. You don't get to change, and then backpedal, and then backpedal again. But I had to show Barry. I had to prove to him that he wasn't wrong to believe in people, even if you were the worst example, even though I knew, I fucking knew you'd let him down again."

He threw his arms up into a crossed position and finally looked away from Len, maybe to keep from actually punching him, the curses quick on his tongue with nothing held back.

Len remembered how Cisco had first reacted around him without his memories, completely mistrusting and confrontational, though still nervous like he thought at any moment Len might turn the cold gun on him point blank and fire. Now all that nervousness was gone, just the anger remaining. And Len understood that, because there was something easier about taking a terrifying experience—when Len had taken Cisco and his brother, threatened him, forced Barry's identity from him—and turning it into something that you faced with ferocity and violence instead of cowering.

It's how Len had lived his whole life after he'd walked away from his father. He didn't want to see that reflected in Cisco.

"I'm sorry," he said, which he knew was the weakest attempt at apologizing, and the way Cisco sneered at him proved he felt the same. Len tried again. "I am. Truly. For all of it. You said your brother was okay after what I did to him, and I'm glad for that. And I know you've never forgiven me for making you tell me Barry's name—"

"You think?"

"Cisco..."

"Because Barry, he's…he's special, you know? And I don't just mean because of the speed." Cisco swayed on his heels like he wanted to pace, and suddenly threw his hands to his sides again. "He's an honestly good, decent guy, who wants nothing more than to help people. Who believes the best in people even when he shouldn't, even when they…betray him." The catch of sorrow on the words painted a picture not of Len's betrayal, but of Cisco's.

And now there were tears in the kid's eyes, and Len didn't know what to say.

"I was almost starting to believe you," Cisco pushed on. "Barry kept insisting that we should be willing to help anyone, to forgive anyone, and I wanted to believe that. Then for you to just walk away and shit on that, no," he shook his head vehemently, "no way was I going to let some asshole be the reason Barry Allen lost hope in other people.

"So I made myself try one more time, pushed Barry to believe it too, even though I wanted nothing more than to take his side and say, hell yeah, Cold's a dick, screw him. I backed you, and the first chance you got, you threw it in our faces. You're just going to take the guns and go, just walk away again, and Lisa…" now he looked really stricken, "…she's so certain she can change your mind, that you'll surprise me. So go ahead, Cold, please…because I'm still waiting."

In the aftermath of Cisco's biting words, Len felt the energy drain from him, the need to be back in that bed powerful and nauseating, along with the need to rid himself of the sting of pain creeping up gradually from everywhere, especially his leg. But the worst was the grief, because it was harder than he ever remembered to witness someone else's pain unveiled before his eyes and shrug it off. He felt it seep into his skin from the short distance between them, and his breath caught.

He stepped forward without thinking and stumbled, thrown off guard by his once again unsteady footing and how little his left leg could support him. If Cisco hadn't been there to clumsily catch him, he would have slammed right into the tile floor.

At least it was easier to speak into Cisco's shoulder than look him in the eyes. "If you had seen and heard what really happened in that warehouse…you wouldn't have bothered trying to defend me."

"You're damn right," Cisco said with a huff as he shifted Len against him so not all of his weight was pressing down, "so consider yourself lucky. You've got a long road ahead before you deserve to even look Barry in the eyes again."

He pushed Len away from him, and for a moment, Len thought he was actually throwing him to the floor, but then Cisco turned and hooked his shoulder under Len's arm, practiced, like he'd had a little more experience than Len had given him credit for lugging around someone larger than him.

"This was exactly what I told you about on day one," Cisco said. "I told you that if this was somehow an act just to get to Barry, to any of us, and you betrayed us again…"

"It wasn't an act."

"No. What you did was worse." Cisco lurched them toward the door.

"Wait..." Len wasn't going to let the kid drag him back to bed until he said this, so he made himself enough dead weight to keep Cisco from being able to pull them forward.

When Cisco turned worried eyes on him, thinking Len was actually about to drop, Len forced himself to meet the kid's gaze and hold it. If he couldn't do this, he'd never be able to manage with Barry.

"I'm sorry," he said again, and it still amazed him how much he meant it, and instead of returning to the practiced ease of being, well...cold, he summoned the man he'd so easily been when all he knew was that an adorable fool in a red suit had saved him. "I didn't know what else to do. I panicked, made the wrong call, and I can't…change that. Now I'm paying for it. I tried to bury myself so I wouldn't have to…to feel this, but I want...I...I want..." The room swayed and Len started to sink.

"Hey," Cisco hissed, tightening his hold and only barely keeping Len upright. "Come on, stay with me. I believe you, okay, just stop. I have to get you back to bed."

Len nodded, rallying himself, and somehow, one slow step at a time, with Cisco's help he made it across the lounge again and back to the hospital bed. He sunk down into it gratefully when Cisco helped him lie back.

Cisco was quick, quiet, and practiced as he replaced Len's IV and the heart monitor up under his sweatshirt. The thrum of pain meds brought Len back to alertness for a moment before his mind began to grow fuzzy again with the call for sleep. Still, he managed to snatch up Cisco's wrist before the kid could walk away.

"Thank you," he said wholeheartedly, and Cisco looked conflicted as he stared back at him.

Eventually, he sighed, seeming to make an effort to not immediately jerk his hand out of Len's grip. "I can't be the only one keeping Barry together. I'm not, believe me, shouldering your bullshit on Barry's behalf is a chore for more than one person," he clarified sharply, "but you better believe we expect you to pick up some of the slack now if you really mean what you're saying. Because if you ever, ever try something like that again…"

"I won't."

"I mean it, Cold—"

"I won't."

"That means no running off with the guns in the morning or—"

"I know," Len said weakly, not because he didn't mean it, or didn't try to say it with conviction, but because he was so tired again and could barely keep his grip on Cisco. He smiled when, even though he lost his hold on the kid, Cisco's hand came up to rest atop his. "You actually think…Barry could forgive me?"

"He already does," Cisco said with some resignation, but at last, finally with some sign that his anger was waning and he might, just might really believe Len. "Barry's sort of hopeless like that. Now you just need to earn it. He'll be back tomorrow," he said with a brief squeeze of Len's hand before he pulled away. "So start practicing your apology…Len. Because Barry's going to take a lot more than me."

Len nodded drowsily. "Thank you," he said again, and let his eyes close before he ended up mumbling anything incoherent.

"Don't let me down again, man," Cisco muttered quietly as he walked away, his voice faint but just loud enough that Len heard his last words before drifting back into unconsciousness, "or Lisa."

The last thing Barry had expected when he went home was that he'd actually sleep. In truth, he had gone home, realized he couldn't possibly sit still for so many hours before it was late enough to crash, and went back to work for a while. The benefit of being The Flash was that he could do that, and for the most part no one had even noticed he'd been gone. He got some more work done and eventually headed home again.

He knew Joe had gone to S.T.A.R. Labs but he just didn't want to talk about any of it, and was content enough to know that while Joe was there, Len had basically been unconscious the entire time anyway. Ronnie staying the night with everyone seemed to relieve some of Joe's tension over the situation, but even though Barry honestly believed that Lisa and Mick wouldn't try anything, not while Len was still in such bad shape, nothing seemed to reduce his own tension.

All he could think about was how Len's eyes had shifted once everything caught up with him after he woke up. How he'd pulled away from Barry, and said in no simple terms that he had no intention of being anything but what he was, despite Barry's heroic rescue. In the morning he'd leave again, and probably sooner than Barry wanted, he'd have to face off against the Rogue on some new mission, and he just…he couldn't stomach that.

Which was why it surprised him that as soon as his head hit the pillow that night, he was out.

He fell asleep early and therefore awoke early, much earlier than usual, early enough that once he was showered and dressed and ready for the day, he didn't really need to head to work for another hour.

"I need to check in at the station," Joe said as he was already grabbing his coat to leave. "Yesterday was a bit hectic," he tried to smile off, "but after I duck my head in to make sure there weren't any disasters after I left, I was going to head to the labs again if you…wanted to join me before work?"

Barry faltered in front of the pot of coffee he'd been staring at and trying to remember how to make for the past five minutes. "Uh, I don't…I don't think I'm…up for that," he said without turning. "I think I'll just go to work, get a full honest day in for once," he chuckled unconvincingly. He just couldn't go to the labs and find Len gone again, or worse…watch him leave. "But let me know if anything's…if anything happened and you need my help." He really didn't believe that would be the case, despite everything, but he turned around finally to offer Joe an earnest nod.

"All right, Barr, if you're sure," Joe said, and came over to grip his shoulder quick, an almost hug when a real one would have felt like too much just now. Joe always understood the amount of space Barry did or didn't need.

"See you at work later," Barry offered as Joe headed out. He turned back to stare at the coffee pot, unsure if he even wanted it anymore. He just needed to shake himself out of this funk, and stop thinking about Len for one blessed moment.

He'd saved the man's life—wasn't that what The Flash was supposed to do? Not being able to save his soul wasn't on Barry, but somehow it still felt like it was. He'd just wanted to believe for one minute that he could fall for someone who would fall just as hard for him. Didn't he deserve that? His friends and family seemed to think so—Eddie couldn't say it enough—but then why did Barry keep doing this to himself?

Even now, when he just wanted to be angry, he felt nothing but anguish. Len had hurt him and said and done such terrible things; Len had turned away from him, dismissed him, made it clear that even if he was grateful for his life, he wouldn't be sticking around. And yet Barry still thought back on their brief time together, staying up nights talking, and laughing, and slowly, honestly coming to understand each other…and wanted nothing more than to have that back, to hold Len against him, kiss his lips in something other than anger, hear his soothing voice, his gentle laugh, not the mockery from…yesterday.

Fuck, how had that only been yesterday?

Barry needed a distraction. He flipped on the radio to his and Joe's favorite oldies station, and took a deep breath at the sink. It took him a moment to recognize the song that came on.

I don't like you, but I love you

Seems that I'm always thinkin' of you

You treat me badly, I love you madly

You've really got a hold on me

Barry glared at the radio. Then couldn't help smiling, and letting out a bitter, delirious laugh, because how did the universe always do that? Always know the exact right and wrong song to play when you least expected it? It was even Smokey…like he'd told Len he loved.

The tears were there in moments, unbidden but right on the brink. Barry tried to wipe them away before they fell, but it was all too close to the surface, painful and pulsing, and wound tightly straight through his chest. He shuddered out a breath as he couldn't help but hum and then sing along to the song.

Baby, I don't want you, but I need you

Don't wanna kiss you, but I need to

You do me wrong now, my love is strong now

You've really got a hold on me

He was the most pathetic man in the universe right then—to say nothing of being the fastest—because as much as he knew things could never be the way they'd been those first few days when Len was just…Len, Barry still wanted him in whatever way he could have him.

"Barry?"

Barry whirled around at the sound of Iris's voice from the entryway, his vocals instantly cutting off. He fumbled to shut off the radio and wipe the tears from his face, moving a little too much at flash-speed, and nearly sending the radio crashing to the floor in his haste. He probably looked like a mess anyway, scrubbing at his eyes, but he steeled himself to face Iris as he pushed from the sink and headed out of the kitchen.

Both Iris and Eddie were there, standing inside the door carrying coffee and pastries from Jitters for all of them. The sight was enough to banish most of Barry's remaining wallowing as a true smile lit up his face. He really had better friends than he deserved.

"Guys, what are you doing here?"

Iris beamed brightly at him. "We figured you'd be up early and could use some company before work."

"Or maybe that you didn't sleep at all," Eddie offered, smiling just as blindingly. "Caffeine works for a few minutes, right?" he laughed and held out a large cup.

Barry loved them both so much in that moment. He took the offered cup gratefully but said, "I actually slept fine. It's the being awake part that's…harder. Has Joe…" his eyes darted to Iris, "…I mean, how much do you…?"

Iris's sympathetic expression turned playfully challenging toward Eddie. "Not as much as I wish I did. Despite my best badgering, Eddie won't tell me anything, though because he's awful at keeping secrets, I know he knows something I don't. All he and Dad told me was about the Captain Cold rescue yesterday and that everyone is fine," she said as she looked back at Barry, relieving Eddie from her stare-down. "The way you've been acting lately though, and how staunch Eddie was about not spilling any details…gives me a pretty good idea of the pieces I'm missing."

"I didn't feel it was my place to say anything," Eddie jumped in, looking at Barry like he hoped he had done the right thing.

Barry couldn't have been more grateful, because it just wouldn't have been right for Iris to hear this from anyone but him, and he appreciated the restraint on Eddie's part in keeping his confidence, even though he knew Eddie hated keeping secrets from Iris as much as he did. Barry had honestly felt better after confessing everything to Eddie yesterday. Maybe telling Iris would help quell the renewed surge of heartache he was feeling.

"Come on," he said, gesturing back toward the kitchen, "it's kind of a story we'll want to be sitting for."

Somehow, while telling Iris everything he'd told Eddie, though in slightly different words, and with a few more details he'd left out in the gym yesterday, Barry managed to eat all three of the apple fritters they'd brought him. He hadn't been eating enough lately, apparently, because he was starving.

Iris only interjected when something needed to be clarified. Otherwise, she listened intently, patiently, looking the appropriate amounts of both pained and angry, which Eddie beside her mirrored almost perfectly.

But when Barry was done, Iris looked sad more than anything, while Eddie looked strangely hopeful.

"I don't know, Barr," Eddie said. "It sounds like a complete 180 from how he acted at the bank."

"He was adamant about leaving, Eddie," Barry countered. "He's probably already long gone by now." It made it hard to imagine ever going back to the labs, but Barry knew he couldn't wallow forever. But if he actually had to stop another heist soon… "I can't go back there just to see him walk away…again."

"But he looked…regretful?" Iris prompted. "Like he wanted to apologize?"

"But he didn't, didn't even say anything, just…just wanted to leave." Barry had finished his coffee as well, and clung to the empty cup, which reminded him a little too much of how he'd felt the other morning.

His phone chimed before anyone could comment further and he looked at it to see a message from Joe. His eyes widened in surprise, especially since the message was so aptly timed.

"What is it?" Eddie asked.

"He's still there…" Barry said more to himself than in answer, then he flashed off a quick 'thank you' to Joe and looked up at his curious friends. "Joe just got to the labs and everyone's still there for now. Mick, Lisa. Len's still asleep."

"He's probably in worse shape than he thought to just go gallivanting out of there because he feels like running away," Iris said. Her eyes twinkled with a bit of sinister mischief. "Maybe now would be a good time to corner him."

"I don't know if that would be a good idea." Barry sunk into his chair, paling at the thought.

"I think I'm with Iris on this one, Barr," Eddie said. "You need to find some time to talk with him alone, get everything off your chests so you know where you really stand. If you don't, it'll never feel over. If going your separate ways is how this ends, then you deserve the closure. If not, well…I mean…" He glanced at Iris as if for collaboration, but she looked unsure of where he was going with this, since she'd only just learned about the more intimate nature of Barry's time with Len. In the end, Eddie turned back to Barry with a sort of helpless honesty. "What do you want, Barry? Really? What do you want from him?"

Len's voice chimed in Barry's head. "What did you expect from me, huh?"

He willed the bitter memories away, clutching the coffee cup until it crumpled in his hands. He couldn't look at either of them for a moment, because he couldn't deny the truth and it…hurt. He wanted what he'd had, what he'd lost, what he and Len had only just started to discover before Len backtracked into denial so hard that it left scars between them.

"This isn't exactly a normal situation, Barry," Iris's soft, patient voice interjected on his thoughts, "so I won't pretend like there's an easy answer for how you should react, or what you should do. You shouldn't go easy on him. But maybe you shouldn't shut him out either."

"It has to be whatever feels right for you," Eddie added.

"And whatever that happens to be," Iris chimed back in, "we promise we won't judge, we'll just listen and observe, and give our honest opinions when you want them. But if he hurts you again, in any way," she whispered conspiratorially over the countertop, which finally prompted Barry to look up and catch her slight smirk, "the offer to beat him up will so be enacted without first asking permission." She winked.

Barry couldn't help but laugh, and Eddie chuckled along with him, though there was a spark of promise in Iris's eyes. Len wouldn't know what hit him if he actually pissed Iris off.

"You guys are really good at this, you know," Barry said, and it warmed him in a strange, unfamiliar way when they looked at each other and shared a loving glance before looking back at him with twin smiles.

"We've had some practice working through tough relationship hurdles," Iris said seriously, and they all shared hesitant, genuine smiles, because really, their lives were too insane not to, even if there had been pain and confusion between them along the way. Right now, Barry was nothing but happy for them.

"Thanks, guys," Barry said, tossing his crushed cup toward the wastebasket. "I should get going if I'm actually going to do this. I don't know if I can afford to miss any more work though…"

"I'll take care of that," Eddie said. "If anyone asks, they just missed you, remember? And if that stops working, I guess you needed another sick day." He grinned widely, so used to covering for Barry, and now that Iris was included in the mix, he didn't seem nearly as put out by that. "It'll be okay, Barry."

Barry wasn't so sure even after this thoughtful pep talk, and part of him longed for the distraction that work would provide. But the other part knew they were right. If he kept putting off honestly talking to Len, it would hang like some awful lead weight between them forever, and the last thing Barry wanted was to see Len again weeks from now, likely as he'd be stopping the other from committing some crime, when their last words were tense, unfinished business like some bickering…couple.

It made Barry feel nauseous, just like the thought of talking this through with Len made him feel nauseous. At least if Len still wanted to hurt him, he couldn't do much laid up on that hospital bed. If he said anything too spiteful, Barry could walk away, just flash away and never look back. But some of him still hoped for the impossible, that maybe, somehow, the conversation could go differently this time.

His stomach rumbled with nerves mixed with hope, as he got up to leave and the song he'd heard on the radio played through his head.

You've really got a hold on me…

TBC...