Soulmate AU where you can only see in black and white until you touch your soulmate.
Part 1 -- Part 2Â -- Part 3Â --Â Part 4Â -- Part 5Â -- Part 6
Part 5B (KillerWave version)
Part 5C (KillerStorm version)
It was like any other run as the Flash--run, catch the bad guys, save the day--that is until Barry caught up to Leonard Snart. As soon as he grabbed the man, he felt it, even through the glove of the suit. A jolt of energy starting at his finger tips, trailing up his arm, and going straight to his brain, his heart, everywhere. Then, the world exploded in color. There were more shades than Barry could have imagined, and he couldnât even guess their names. It was enough to make his stumble, lose his footing, forget where he was for a moment. His soulmate. Heâd met his soulmate. His soulmate was...
...a criminal.
...a thief.
His soulmate was...leaving.
Heâd been distracted too long. Long enough for the criminals to get on their bikes and ride off. Long enough for them to get away.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
I wrote two short snippets. Here's the longer one, for days 3 (forced to work together) and 5 (alternate earths). More of a set-up to a longer story that I will likely never write, so if anyone wants it, it's yours - no need to ask permission, just go ahead and link me to it when you're done.
Fic: When The Bat Comes In
Fandom: Flash
Pairing: Leonard Snart/Barry Allen (pre-slash)
Ao3 link
-------------------------------------------------
âHey, Bear! Got another one with your name on it!â
Barry groans. Heâd be so damn close to getting out early, just once.
âSorry, man,â Julian says from the next desk over. âYou know what they say: crime doesnât sleep ââ
ââ and neither do the detectives,â Barry finished.
Sometimes he regrets not going in to be a CSI instead of following in Joeâs footsteps to become a detective. Still, Joeâs detective work â along with his deep and abiding faith in the innocence of his best friend when he had been suspected of killing his wife â had been the only thing that had thrown enough doubt on Barryâs dadâs case to win him an acquittal. Everyone else had assumed was open-and-shut and hadnât bothered looking deep enough: only Joe had bothered. Only Joe had found the questionable evidence, thereby sparing Henry Allen the agonies of being imprisoned unfairly and letting him stay home to raise his son.
Barry was determined to be that person to someone else.
He just wished crime slept a little bit more, thatâs all.
In fairness, it wasnât exactly Joe Westâs police force anymore.
âHey, Iris,â Barry says, sliding into the seat next to her. âYou know what happened?â
âNope,â she says, buzzing with energy. âThey say itâs related to the Big Five.â
Barryâs eyebrows shoot up. âJLA?â he asks. âIn our town?â
âCentralâs a perfectly good town, Barry,â Iris sniffs. âWe may not have a major superhero of our own, but weâre a presence.â
âBut why are we involved, then?â Barry asks. âDonât the capes usually prefer not to work with the local authorities?â He frowns. âExcept for Superman. And even then, itâs on his terms.â
âYeah, well,â Eddie says, walking in with â thank god â cups of coffee for everyone. âFrom what I hear, we have a Bat.â
âIn Central?â Iris exclaims.
âCentralâs a perfectly good town, Iris,â Barry reminds her.
âShut up. We never get a Bat.â
âAnd more to the point, none of the Bats are exactly police-friendly,â Barry says.
âHe needs the manpower,â Captain Singh says, walking through the door. âAnyone who wants to go home because they donât feel like being recruited into an unlicensed vigilante with too much moneyâs plan which he wonât share with us in full, you should feel free â sit down, Allen, I was being sarcastic â but I have been assured that this will save the world from something terrible beyond the ken of us mere mortals.â
Barry tries to hide a smile. Like most honest policemen, Singh doesnât always appreciate interference from the capes.
âTerrible beyond our ken,â Eddie says dryly, not even bothering to hide his own smile. âThat doesnât quite sound like Central, I must admit. Have they finally decided to go up against our supervillains?â
âThe Rogues, as ever, remain at large,â Singh replies. âConsider them armed and dangerous.â
This time, no one bothers hiding their laughter.
Some five years ago, when the superhero craze had really been getting into high gear, several supervillains, several super-strength types and one super-intellectual, from other cities had noticed Centralâs lack of a superhero and had decided that it made Central the perfect base from which to plan and launch their attacks on their home cities.
That was when the Rogues had formed, a loose association of thieves and criminals with the sort of tech that would make them supervillains in another city, and theyâd told the newcomers to butt out of their city.
Theyâd made their point emphatically.
City Hall had howled in panic about the idea of having a homegrown supervillain threat, but the Rogues were remarkably good about minimizing collateral damage. Their heists were mostly aimed at the rich corporations, too, none of which headquartered in Central anyway, so the only people really being hurt were the politicians that were being funded by them.
The Rogues also imposed a pretty strict âno killing copsâ rule, which they enforced throughout Central. In return, the CCPD made only token efforts to catch them when they werenât actively engaged in a heist.
Barry was about 70% sure that the guy who haggled with the fresh fish people at the farmerâs market every Saturday was Mick Rory â it was a little hard to tell, given that his usual Rogues suit involved goggles to protect him from his heat gun â but he wasnât going to check, either.
âAnyway, boys,â Singh says, raising his hands for silence. âAnd girls, of course. Weâre canvassing the area. Batman â and yes, the main one, not one of the promoted Robins, I know, I know, Iâm surprised too â said to look for anything unusual.â
âDefine unusual,â Iris says, slouching back in her seat. âMan dressed as a giant bat running around, thatâs pretty unusual.â
âHe said weâd know it when we saw it,â Singh replies, sounding equally unenthused. No one liked the high-handed way the superheroes treated the police, like they were side characters in a penny-novel instead of hard-working men and women trying to serve a city in which the crime had only gotten worse and worse as the years went on.
âSo, porn,â Barry says.
Everyone bursts out laughing.
Singh is trying to keep order, but Barry sees the smirk tugging on his lips. âEnough, enough. If the Batâs come personally, itâs probably something really unusual. Which weâll know when we see.â He pauses, considering. âSomeone should probably survey the sewers, but avoid the GZ. While that might fit Batmanâs criteria, itâs not really unusualâŚanymore.â
Groddâs lair was something of an open secret in Central.
People were slowly adjusting.
âYouâve each been assigned a district to survey â keep your radio and back-up close by. We donât know what weâre dealing with here,â Singh says. Heâs managed to eliminate most, but not all of the resentment in his voice.
âNo problem,â Iris says. âYou know how these things go â we do all the legwork, and in the end, the Bat does the grand finale. Weâll all be back in time for dinner.â
âKnock on wood,â Barry says, and grins at his oldest friend.
âIâm telling you,â she says. âPiece of cake.â
--
Barry coughs, his eyes tearing up from the dust. He crawls forward, too dizzy to get up. His face feels slippery.
He might be bleeding. Probably a head wound. Those bled like crazy; heâs more worried about the untreated concussion he probably has.
The boxâŚthingâŚis still glowing, even after that explosion.
The Bat is gasping for air. Thereâs something on his chest.
Itâs glowing, too.
Barry pulls himself forward. One of his legs isnât working. âBat ââ he hacks another cough.
Eddieâs slumped over in the corner; he can see that from where he is. He doesnât know where the others heâd called in for back-up are.
He hopes theyâre still alive.
âBatman,â he rasps. âBatâŚâ
The Batâs head slowly turns and his eyes fix on Barry. His mask is broken in three places, but thereâs so much blood, itâs not like Barry can see anything.
He crooks his fingers.
Barryâs not sure if that was intentional, but he pulls himself forward anyway.
Itâs hard.
Itâs much harder than it ought to be; Barryâs legs have stopped working and his left arm is going numb and it feels like thereâs an anvil tied to his chest.
But damnit, Barry was born stubborn and he grew up stubborn and heâs not going to let this weird magic bullshit stop him.
He gets within a foot of Batman before suddenly Batmanâs hand shoots out, gauntleted fist seizing Barryâs collar and pulling him in, right up to Batmanâs face.
âGet â plan,â Batman rasps, his voice even thicker and lower than usual. Heâs barely understandable.
âWhat plan?â Barry asks, blinking.
âGenius,â Batman hisses. âNeed â genius. Donâtââ
âDonât?â
âDonât trust,â Batman gasps, his chest rattling in an unhealthy way. âJLA.â
Barryâs eyes go wide. âWait,â he says, âwait, you ââ
He feels Batmanâs hand curl around his own, pushing a scrap of paper into his fist.
âBut ââ Barry starts helplessly.
âGo!â
And he throws Barry away from him with surprising strength, less than a second before the box explodes a second time.
Everything goes fuzzy for a while after that.
In the end, they keep Barry in the hospital for about 48 hours before letting him out.
He desperately wants to go home, but he goes down to the station, instead.
âBarry,â Iris shouts, jumping over a desk to grab him into an embrace. Eddie rushes forward from behind him to stabilize him. He got to go home with Iris after a brief consultation with the EMTs.
âHow are you?â Eddie asks.
âIâm okay,â Barry says. âThey were really just keeping me to make sure I wasnât traumatized or something.â He tries to smile. It doesnât feel right on his face.
âI canât believe youâre here,â Iris says. âThey shouldnât have released you.â
âIâm not actually hurt, Iris.â
âYou nearly got killed,â Iris says. âYou watched a cape get killed.â
âBatmanâs not dead,â Barry says. He hesitates. âUnless youâve heard something?â
âNo,â Iris says, disgusted. âThe capes flew him away, and thatâs the last weâve heard â apparently capes get treated at the fancy-smancy JLA HQ.â
Barry shrugs, but privately he agrees. The least they couldâve done would be drop him off at the hospital, but theyâd been concerned with getting the Bat home. Or to the JLA HQ. Whatever.
Capes were kind of shitty to people they assumed were collateral damage.
But they were heroes.
At least â
Barryâd always thought they were.
Donât trust the JLA.
âIris,â Barry says. âCan I talk to you?â
He trusts Iris more than anything. They practically grew up together, joined at the hip. She was his first crush, nursed for far too long, before his dad gave him a talk about expectations and friendship and encouraged him to make his move, resulting in her shutting him down and him moving on.
Iris he trusts with anything.
âSure,â she says. She kisses Eddie lightly on the cheek â theyâre engaged now, still recently enough for it to be exciting â and heads after Barry.
He goes to the roof where the smokers go because there are no cameras there.
âWhatâs up, partner?â she asks.
Barry swallows. âI need to tell you something,â he says. âAnd I know youâre busy with your wedding plans and all that, so if you donât want to be bothered ââ
âNah, weâre not actually planning on getting married for at least a year,â Iris says dismissively. âNeed to give both our families time to freak out first. Also, youâre my partner and Iâve got your back. Now spill it.â
Barry tells her.
Tells her what happened in that abandoned warehouse.
Tells her what happened to the Bat.
What happened to Barry.
What the Bat said to him, in a hushed whisper, like he thought someone would overhear.
And, more than that, Barry shows her what it was that he got from the Bat.
âThis doesnât make any sense,â she says, staring at the incomprehensible squiggles.
âThatâs what I thought,â Barry says. He runs his fingers through his hair. âThe Bat said I needed to give it to a genius.â
âDo we even know any geniuses? If we give it to any of the eggheads in the department, theyâll probably alert the JLA. Not even on purpose; I would bet money that the JLA has spying programs of all sorts in all the police databases, even though theyâve never admitted it.â
âI donât disagree,â Barry says. âSo Iâve been thinking.â
He pauses. Licks his lips.
âWell?â she says.
âYouâre not going to like it,â he warns her.
Iris crosses her arms. âTell me.â
He tells her.
âNo! Absolutely not!â she shouts.
âShhhh!â Barry hisses, waving his hands. âAnd itâs not like I have a better alternative, okay?!â
âYou have ââ
She hesitates.
âWells turned out to be evil, remember?â Barry reminds her. âHe was deliberately sabotaging his own Particle Accelerator in an attempt to make this city a hotbed of metahumans; we wouldnât have found out about it if it wasnât for Hartley Rathaway turning evidence.â
âAnd you believing him,â Iris reminds him.
Barry shrugs. That had been his biggest collar so far, the one that made him feel like he deserved the title of detective instead of just wearing it.
âBut still,â Iris says, âSnart?â
âHe is undeniably a genius,â Barry says.
âSo is â Tina McGee!â
Barry looks at her.
âCisco Ramon?â
âDo you think either of them is the type of genius that Batman meant?â
ââŚno,â she concedes. âBut how are you going to even find Snart? The Rogues donât just sit around wherever you can find them â and even if you do find him, how in the world will you convince him to work with you? Youâre a cop! Snart hates cops! Everybody knows that.â
âFirst,â Barry says, âlet me find him. Then Iâll worry about convincing him.â
âBut how will you find him?â
Barry smiles a little crookedly. âI think Iâm going to go get some fish. You want me to pick you up something from the farmer's market while I'm there?â
"I want you to still be alive come nightfall, that's what I want," Iris grumbles.
--
âYouâd better not fuck this up, kid,â Rory warns him gruffly. âIâm only doing this âcause you seem sincere, but if you use this against us...â He trails off warningly.
Barry nods, swallowing. âI wonât. I promise.â
They reach the bar at the end of the street.
Saints & Sinners.
âIs this the place?â
âYeah,â Rory says. âWeâre just about always here. Câmon.â
He leads the way inside.
The inside of the bar is â well. Itâs like any other dive bar.
If any other dive bar had distinctly identifiable Rogues hanging out in the bar stools, in the booths, playing pool, watching TV.
And one of the ones sitting at the bar, watching a game of hockey, is the single most beautiful man Barryâs ever seen, wearing a instantly recognizable blue parka and a heavy gun strapped onto his thigh.
Rory doesnât say anything, but itâs less than a moment before Snart is turning to regard them.
A faint smirk curls his lips.
âMick,â he drawls, the voice that put Central Cityâs accent on the map. Leader of the Rogues, the man who mastered absolute zero, he who was widely recognized as the finest thief in the entire country, courted by other supervillains, and member of at least three different Leagues, Legions, and Societies.
Defender of Central City.
âWhat did you bring us?â Snart asks.
âA cop,â Rory says, mincing no words. âName of Barry Allen. Heâs got something to ask of you.â
âI see,â Snart says. His eyes show no discernible emotion as he scans Barry from head to toes and back. âWell then, Allen. I suggest you start talking.â
Iâm posting this small portion of my ColdFlash week contribution to Day Five, Alternate Earths a little early because it requires a prerequisite of reading the first chapter of horchatitaâs amazing fic, In the Wrong Kind of Light.Â
My ColdFlash week piece this time around is chapter 2, with more to come from both of us.
I want to preface all of this by explaining how this story is one of my favorite ColdFlash fics, so much so that it haunted me, stuck with me, and eventually months after first reading it prompted me to come up with my own headcanons and where the story could go. I then accosted @horchatita and asked if I could play in her sandbox.
Sheâll be adding an additional portion to the series giving more background on her Earth-17 world and how Bart and Leo got together and progressed through their story, which Iâve contributed some ideas to as well. Be sure to check out both my new chapter and her new part to the series tomorrow!
Len finds himself on another (very dark, very broken) Earth where a heartbroken Barryâno, Bart, whose alter-ego isnât The Flash but Hailâterrorizes the city in his ongoing Rogue War with Lisa Snart. Displaced from his own Earth after the events of the Oculus, Len finds himself in the middle of that very war while he waitsâperhaps too longâfor a way back home.
But thereâs more, because weâre not stopping here. Weâve discussed a whole bunch more so that this very dark, very emotional and wrenching storyâŚcan have something of a more hopeful and happy end. It might not be happy for everyone, but it will have a payoff we believe youâll enjoy.
For now, I implore you all to read that first chapter so it can haunt you as it haunted me.
Barry hates it when Len picks him up bridle style and carries him like that all the way to Star labs after a tough fight as the Flash. Seriously, he was fine! He has such an overprotective boyfriend.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
fic: those three words over even âI love youâ
Fandom: The Flash - All Media Types
Rating: Explicit
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Summary:
Missing scene from episode 2x03, "Family of Rogues."
Later, he'd wonder if they all could've walked away from the heist in one piece if Barry had just called him Leonard.
Iâve been working on this for a while but managed to get it done in time for Coldflash week, although I think Iâm a day late on the âprotectivenessâ prompt!
Len and Barry are joint leaders of the Rogues. The only thing standing between them and complete dominion over Central City is Killer Frost and her group of metahuman do-gooders, who refuse to quit following them around.
Rating: Mature-ish (no actual sex scene - but itâs veeery heavily implied/theyâre about to start doing it and then thereâs a cut-scene, so the fic ends before it gets particularly explicit)
read on ao3
(Warning for some kind of self-destructive behaviour and a bit of a strange, slightly dysfunctional dynamic between Len and Barry? They love each other, but like... theyâre sort of evil, makes sense that theyâre a little bit rough with each other from time to time.)
Barry shot through the city like a bullet from a gun, his head lowered to streamline his body as effectively as possible. The wind whistled around him as he cut through the turbulence, weaving in and out of cars, shooting up and over buildings, whizzing round corners. All the while, he had to fight to keep a smile off his face.
He rocketed around another corner and crossed three blocks in three seconds flat. The perfect amount of adrenaline buzzed through his body; he was out of danger, able to enjoy the feeling without fear, but his whole body still sang with fresh energy, so much that he was practically overflowing with it. Lightning crackled as he ran, and he used the electricity to spur him onwards. His blood was singing, the chemicals racing through his bloodstream the same way he raced through the streets, filling him with excitement. The adrenaline was there at his command, making him faster, more agile, making his turns sharper and his lungs burn more fiercely as he pushed himself. Again, he had to struggle not to grin.
At times like this, he felt like he could run to the ends of the earth.
Cutting across a busy square, still milling with people in spite of the late hour, Barry blew past a couple of tourists and then headed about half a mile down the road - and then suddenly ricocheted off in the opposite direction, shooting down a deserted alleyway and cutting across a couple of back roads before he skidded to a stop at the back of an old housing estate, directly across the street from Leonard Snart.
Len had his cold gun out and pointed straight ahead, but when he spotted Barry, he lowered it. They regarded each other for a moment. Barry was still breathing hard from his run, the smell of singed rubber hanging in the air and static prickling at his arms.
âAlright, hands in the air,â he said.
Slowly, Len holstered his gun, then raised his hands to shoulder height. The barest hint of a laugh twitched at the corners of his mouth.
âYou got me,â he said.
âYep,â agreed Barry.
He moved in closer, fighting a smile of his own. At this distance, he had nothing to fear from Lenâs gun. If the man was planning on shooting him, Barry could have his arm twisted behind his back the moment Lenâs fingers so much as twitched towards his holster. Not that he had any qualms that Leonard was going to attempt to shoot him. Not tonight, anyway.
âSo what now?â
âDepends,â said Barry. âA little birdie told me that you sent one of your...associates to steal the Kahndaq Dynasty diamond tonight. Exactly two years to the day, in fact, since the last time you tried to steal it.â He raised an eyebrow. âGot anything to say for yourself?â
The little smile playing at the corners of Lenâs mouth became a full-blown smirk. âGuilty on all counts.â He took a step forwards, and his smile became mocking, as if daring Barry to act. Lowering his hands, he tilted his head. âSo arrest me, officer.â
Barry blurred towards him, crossing the distance between them in less than half a heartbeat and slamming Len up against the wall of the closest house, knocking the breath out of both of them. Then he lurched forwards and kissed him, hard.
It was a rough embrace; he was too keyed up on adrenaline and excitement to be careful, even if heâd have been in that sort of mood. With his right hand, he gripped the front of Lenâs parka tightly enough to tear the fabric, yanking him closer against his body. He continued to crush Len against the wall, forcing him back against the bricks so hard that it must have hurt. Len gave as good as he got, however, ripping down the cowl and tugging on Barryâs hair so that pain shot right down to the roots, making him groan. He tasted blood in his mouth; not his. Insistently, Barry kissed him harder, not giving Len any ground. A cool hand found the back of his neck, held him closer, despite the fact that there wasnât an inch of space between their bodies anyway, and barely a centimetre between Len and the wall. Barryâs hand snuck down to the small of Lenâs back and found that his jacket had ridden up, leaving a sliver of skin exposed.
They parted just as suddenly as theyâd come together, tearing apart with a gasp. Barry staggered backwards, taken aback by his own ferocity. For a moment they stood staring at each other, panting...then Len started grinning; a wild, animal smile. In spite of himself, Barry grinned back, even let out a breathless laugh. Lenâs mouth was bloody.
âHello to you, too,â Len said teasingly. He turned his head and spat a few flecks of ruby onto the sidewalk. âBit my tongue. Wasnât expecting you to tackle me like that, you maniac.â
âOops,â said Barry, not even pretending to be sorry.
They stood for another minute, both grinning like fools. Len licked his lips, realised that wasnât helping in the slightest, and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing blood across his face.
Something about the sight of that made Barryâs gut tug insistently. It didnât disturb him the way it might have, that he could find such a violent image so sensual. After all, heâd become no stranger to violence and destruction over the past few years. Swallowing, he let his tongue trace the same pathway on his own lips. He could still faintly taste Lenâs blood on his tongue, cooling copper in his mouth.
âStill bleeding?â
âWe canât all have accelerated healing,â Len said. âYes, Iâm still bleeding, Scarlet.â
âAw,â said Barry. He lowered his voice. âGuess I have to kiss it better, then.â
He moved in again, dipping his head to kiss Len once more. This time he was a little more gentle, but he was still too energised to be careful for long; within seconds the kiss had dissolved into a frantic mess, all tongues and clashing teeth and too much saliva, no finesse to it at all. Just the two of them, kissing like it was a fight, pushing eagerly against each other, all give and no take. Barry licked deeper into Lenâs mouth, his gloved hands twining possessively in the fur on his hood, pulling him closer. In the dim orange glow of the streetlights, with the faraway sound of sirens drifting by on the breeze, for a moment it felt like the two of them were the only ones in the world.
Eventually, though, Barry pulled back with a sigh. âWe should get moving. Iâve got do-gooders on my tail; wonât take them long to catch up. You ready to go?â
âIâm ready. Did you get the goods?â
Barry opened his left fist to reveal the gem nestling in his palm; a gleaming diamond roughly the size of a satsuma. Â
A real smile broke across Lenâs face, uninhibited and breathtakingly beautiful. For a moment he merely gazed upon the diamond, taking it in - then his eyes flicked upwards to look Barry straight in the face, so proud that it made Barryâs heart skip a beat.
âHappy anniversary,â he said, beaming.
âGood boy,â Len said approvingly.
Barry flushed with pleasure at the compliment, looking away. The back of his neck was suddenly very warm underneath the suit, and he ached for Lenâs hand to rest there, cool against his overheated skin, a physical stamp of approval. Of possession.
Still, now was hardly the time or place for such things.
âWe should go,â he said. âWonât take âem long to catch up.â
âWhy rush? You can outrun those idiots with your eyes shut.â Len grabbed Barry by the waist and yanked him closer, then reached out to touch his face, rubbing his thumb against Barryâs cheekbone. Closing his eyes, Barry basked in his attentions like a cat; if he could, he wouldâve purred. âBesides, youâve done so well. I think we need to talk about your reward.â
âNot here,â Barry said, but his protests sounded weak even to his own ears. âMm. Len.â Len had started kissing his neck insistently, beginning at his jaw and moving inexorably downwards. âLenny. Not now. Theyâre gonna be here any second.â
âYou know how much I love it when you steal things for me, Scarlet. Youâre so good at it. Iâve corrupted you... Well and truly.â
His teeth scraped at Barryâs jugular, then bit down. A spark of pain made Barry flinch, then close his eyes against the urge to just give in to it, to let Len do whatever he wanted to him in this dark street, with only stray cats and dim streetlights for company...and one of the worldâs priciest diamonds clenched in his gloved fist.
That thought brought Barry back to his senses. Heâd been one of the Rogues for two years now - tonight, in fact, marked exactly two years since heâd joined Lenâs team and turned his back on S.T.A.R Labs for good - but he still hadnât been able to share their casual apathy for waving around stolen goods like pocket change. Suddenly the diamond felt appallingly heavy in his hand; he was afraid he might drop it.
âLen. Come on, we have to move.â
âYou worry too much,â Len said, but he obligingly took a step back and pulled Barryâs cowl back up for him, tugging it expertly into place.
Barry pulled Len close to his side in preparation to run them both back to the safe house. As an afterthought, he offered him the diamond. âCan you hang onto this? Itâs a pain in the ass having to carry everything around after Iâve stolen it. Iâm really gonna have to have somebody put some pockets into this suit.â
âDonât you dare,â Len said, holding his hand out for the diamond. âI like that suit just the way it is.â Then he very deliberately groped Barryâs ass with his other hand.
âWhatever, perv, just take the damn - â
âHold it right there!â
They both looked up, startled.
Killer Frost stood a few feet away, in the same place Barry had originally stopped on the other side of the road. Her eyes gleamed like ice chips; her hands, outstretched at her sides, were smoking faintly, ice fog swirling around her fingers. Pale hair spilled around her shoulders. A vision in dark blue, she stared them down.
âWell if it isnât Frosty the Snowman,â Len said lazily. âLong time, no see. Youâre sure you want me to hold it right here, Doctor Snow? Because I do have my hand on the Flashâs ass at this exact moment in time.â
âHand it over,â Caitlin said coldly.
âHis ass? I donât know if I can do that without handing you the rest of him.â
Barry stepped on Lenâs foot without taking his eyes off Caitlin. Her gaze flickered from Len to Barry, her stare full of cold fury. With her eyes leached of colour as they were, the effect was somewhat intimidating.
âGive me the diamond,â ordered Caitlin.
âWhat diamond?â Len said, but he did at least remove his hand from Barryâs ass.
Her lip curled. âHand it over, Barry.â
Obligingly, Barry put the diamond straight into Lenâs hand. Caitlin made a small sound of outrage, and Len calmly pocketed it, slipping the gem out of sight.
âDiamond? Donât know what youâre talking about. I think you might be suffering from a little bit of brain freeze, Frosty. I donât see any diamond.â He held up his hands.
âSee, this is why I need pockets,â Barry said. âThen I could have hidden it myself and neither of you wouldâve noticed.â
Caitlin looked beseechingly at him. âDonât,â she said, sounding for a moment like her old self - the Caitlin Snow whom Barry had first met when he woke from his coma, rather than Killer Frost.
Barry frowned. âWhat, you donât like the pocket idea either? I know it plays hell with my aesthetic, but itâd just be so much more convenient - â
âPlease, Barry,â Caitlin said. âStop kidding around. This isnât who you really are. You donât have to do this any more - come with us. We can fix all this.â
âJeez, you ever think about changing the record, Caitlin? Itâs getting a little old. Me and the Rogues show up to steal something, you and the rest of your little team show up to stop us, fail spectacularly, and beg me to come back to S.T.A.R Labs? Itâs been two years. I think maybe you should think about getting a new approach.â
âWe havenât lost faith in you, Barry,â Caitlin said, stepping forwards. The fog around her hands was starting to evaporate. âWe know youâre still capable of being a good guy. The sweet guy we first met, the one who wanted to help people, and save this city - heâs still in there. Heâs just been led down the wrong path. We can put you back on the right one.â
âBoring,â Len said loudly.
Caitlin shot him a venomous look. âWe have you surrounded, Snart. We all care about Barry, we want to help him. The same doesnât go for you. Iâd watch yourself.â
âSurrounded?â Len said. âOoh, scary. Care to show us some receipts, Snow? Because right now I donât see your reinforcements.â
âBetter take another look,â called a voice from the darkness. âMaybe your eyesightâs going. I hear it happens, when you start getting older.â
Cisco and Hartley stepped out of the shadows and moved to Caitlinâs side, Hartley wearing his ridiculous gloves, and Cisco decked out in full Reverb gear, goggles and all. Barry watched them with disinterest. Heâd never known Hartley before he left S.T.A.R Labs, and Ciscoâs powers hadnât manifested until after Barry left, but he and the Rogues had faced off against Cisco and Hartley often enough that he didnât find them particularly impressive any more. Only Caitlin was any real danger to him; her powers worked in a similar vein to Lenâs gun, and could have done some serious damage...if she had been able to bring herself to actually try and hurt him. In spite of the name and the terrifying new aesthetic she had going on, Caitlin was still as gentle as sheâd always been...most of the time. Still unwilling to move against him.
âLooks like youâre outnumbered,â Hartley said. âWhere are your Rogues, Snart?â
âBarry and I are going it alone tonight. Date night. You know how it is. Dinner, a movie, steal a priceless artifact from the museum...romance isnât dead yet. Youâve just gotta be willing to put in the effort. Still, none of you are having much luck in that department, are you? One dead fiance, one hopeless - and unreciprocated - crush on my sister, and one appalling case of verbal diarrhoea. You ever tried shutting your mouth for a second, Piper? You might find it helps your love life significantly.â
âBite me,â Hartley snapped.
âOh, I would - for pityâs sake if nothing else - but Iâm afraid Iâd catch something. For now Iâll have to pass.â
Angrily, Hartley stepped forwards to make another retort, but Caitlin shot him a warning glare. âEnough!â She looked back at Barry, her gaze softening in spite of the cold colour of her eyes. âBarry, please. Iâm begging you - give this up. Do the right thing. Come with us. We can help you - come back to the lab and weâll fix all of this. Donât you want to be a team again? Like we were in the beginning? You and me, and Cisco, and Doctor Wells?â She held out her hand. âCome with us, Barry.â
âRight, so you can lock me in the pipeline and throw away the key? Dream on, Caitlin. Iâve told you time and time again, my place is with the Rogues. You and Cisco, you had your chance, and you ruined it. Once upon a time we were friends, but things are different now. I donât want to come back. Team Flash is over, Caitlin. Iâm done.â
âYou really want to spend the rest of your life working with the Rogues? When we met, all you wanted was to help people - and now youâre stealing from them? This isnât you, Barry. Youâve made mistakes, lost your way, but itâs not too late to change things. Youâre not a bad person.â
âWell maybe you shouldâve thought of that before you and Cisco built a gun specifically designed to take me out,â Barry said flatly.
Cisco made a disbelieving noise. âOh, man, Barry, you have got to let that go.â
âHave I, Cisco? Have I?â Barry rounded on him. âIf I was such a good friend to you both, if we all had such a perfect setup at the lab, why didnât you trust me? I never gave you any reason to be suspicious of me. I was trying to save lives, to help people. We were a team! I trusted you guys; I thought you trusted me! Then I find out you built a gun just for the purpose of taking me down.
âI never did anything wrong. I never hurt anybody, or gave you any reason to suspect that I was going to turn on you. But you built it anyway, and you didnât even tell me until after it was stolen! If Len hadnât taken that gun and planned to use it against me, Iâd never have known my own friends were plotting behind my back. But now Iâm the bad guy, right? For doing exactly what you always suspected I was going to do? You never thought I was a good person. You both thought I was going to turn out to be a murderer, a killer - just like my dad.â
âThatâs not fair,â Caitlin said. âWe never said that, Barry. The gun was a precaution, it wasnât - â
âThey were right to build it,â Hartley said.
âHartley!â
âWhat?â he demanded. âIsnât anybody else going to say it? The guy finds out youâve built a gun that could potentially be used to incapacitate him - not even kill him, just slow him down! - and he immediately goes off the rails, joins forces with the first bad guy he comes across, and spends the next two years playing Bonnie and Clyde with a supervillain?â He shifted his gaze to Barry. âIâm not scared of you, Flash, and Iâm not afraid to say it. Cisco and Caitlin were right not to trust you. Youâre unhinged, youâre dangerous, and youâre a terrible person. If it were up to me, Iâd lock you in the pipeline and never let you out.â
A poisonous silence crept between them. Barry stared coldly at Hartley, mentally calculating how easy it would be to speed over there and snap his neck. Caitlin could probably stop him, but if he took her by surprise he could do a decent amount of damage first.
He could kill Hartley. But he wouldnât.
âRight,â he said. âIâm a terrible person. Got it.â He looked savagely at Caitlin. But just for the record - remind me how it is you got your name, Killer Frost? Because Iâm pretty certain it wasnât just because all the cuter names were taken.â
Ever since her powers had manifested, Caitlin had been pale - but at this, all remaining colour drained from her face. Barry fought the urge to give a very Len-like smirk.
âYouâre right,â she said eventually. âIâm no saint, Barry. Iâve done terrible things, Iâve made mistakes. Iâve hurt people. But I lost control. I couldnât control my powers; I couldnât see that there was no divide between Caitlin Snow and Killer Frost. I let myself be controlled by my abilities, rather than the other way round. And...I killed people.â She lifted her chin. âBut I came back from that. And Iâve been doing everything I can to change things, to atone for my mistakes. Hartley and Cisco helped me learn to control myself. Someone should do the same for you, Barry. Youâre not a god, and youâre not above the law. Someone needs to keep you in check, not use you like their own personal attack dog!â
âNobody keeps me in check,â Barry said. âNobodyâs the boss of me.â
âYou sure about that?â Hartley asked mockingly. âI thought you were a good boy.â
Suddenly the urge to throttle him became far more prevalent. But Barry kept himself in check. He meant what heâd said to Caitlin; he didnât need anybody to keep him on a leash. He had his rules, and he kept to them.
Beside him, Len was visibly aching to strangle Hartley almost as badly as Barry was. With a nudge, Barry caught his attention. A look passed between them, and Len nodded curtly and stepped back. They both knew that Barry was more than capable of fighting his own battles. Still, he appreciated that he had someone ready to champion his cause, if need be.
âSay what you want about me,â he said. âBut Iâm no killer. I made that clear when I joined the Rogues. If they wanted help from me, if they wanted me to be one of them, then nobody else was going to get hurt. Theyâve kept their promises. Too bad S.T.A.R Labs couldnât say the same.â
Caitlin bit her blue lower lip and looked away. Barry had always wondered if that was lipstick, or if her powers had really turned her lips blue. Too bad they werenât friends any more; heâd never get to ask.
âWeâre leaving,â he said. âDonât try to follow us. Iâve never killed anybody up until now, but if you come after us again tonight, I might just make an exception.â
He put his arm around Len, paused, and made cool eye contact with every single one of the others to show them that he meant business. Theyâd only been fighting together for a matter of months, still honing their skills; theyâd come after the Rogues a few times, but never managed to be more than a thorn in their sides. A vague annoyance, like a mosquito bite. Tonight, theyâd actually successfully angered him.
Up until now, Barry had been adamant with the rest of the Rogues that Killer Frost and her associates were off limits. Heâd handle them himself, and he wouldnât hurt them - not badly, anyway. Heâd never been able to justify that to himself, really; it had always just been a vague sense that he owed them for helping him when he was in the coma, and when his powers first manifested. That, and if he was honest with himself, he still felt a lingering sense of affection for Cisco and Caitlin. Sometimes when he was in a nostalgic mood, he still looked back fondly at the few short weeks heâd spent at S.T.A.R Labs. They hadnât taught him much, not in comparison to everything heâd learned on his own - but theyâd been the starting point. The very beginning of his time as a speedster. For that, he had to thank them.
Now, though, they were starting to get on his nerves. Showing up all too frequently to appeal to his better nature, which heâd determinedly cast aside several years back. Barry Allen, sweet CSI, was a thing of the past. Now there was only The Flash - partner to Captain Cold, scourge of the city. He and Len had developed a partnership that was like a well-oiled machine - a nefarious, slightly wicked machine that did an awful lot of thieving. Against that, Caitlin and her ragged band of do-gooders didnât stand a chance. Barry and Len wouldnât even need to summon the other Rogues to help them finish off the ragged remains of Team Flash - not if they put their minds to it.
âReady to go?â he said in Lenâs ear.
âGet us out of here,â Len said.
Barry got hold of him and was about to oblige, when Caitlin said, âLeave the diamond.â
Len sneered at her. It was a magnificent sneer, dripping with disdain.
âPlease, Snow,â he said. âDonât push your luck.â
~*~
Barry lay on the couch in their latest safe house, brooding.
The two of them had a handful of houses spread out across the city. Some were communal, fair game for all the Rogues. Mark and Shawna had their own - legal - properties, Mick and Lisa had their favourites among the various houses they shared, and there were a couple of places where they had all been known to crash, either for convenience or because they were planning a big job, or because theyâd all drunk themselves senseless and couldnât manage to stumble to any of the more comfortable houses. Even Barry, whoâd been studying a lot of chemistry in his free time and managed to rustle up a vicious alcoholic solution that kept him blind drunk for a good hour after he drank it, had been guilty of this from time to time. Alcohol and the speed force didnât mix, heâd learned, and heâd learned it the hard way. Run into a few walls, given himself motion sickness and puked forcefully at a wall⌠now, he was more inclined to just crash wherever his drunken self saw fit, and handle it when he woke up.
But Len and Barry had also commandeered a couple of houses of their own, that were off-limits to the others. Places where they could keep things private, could wander around naked or sing in the shower, and just let loose without the other Rogues hanging around. They still tended to move around a lot, uprooting themselves on a regular basis just in case⌠but tonight they were still in the same place they had been crashing in for a few weeks now, and Barry was lounging on the sofa and staring at the TV. He hadnât switched it on.
Len came to join him, sitting at the opposite end of the couch and dumping his feet in Barryâs lap. He still had his boots on. Barry grumbled and made a feeble attempt to throw him off before giving up and lapsing back into a sulk.
âWhatâs on your mind?â Len asked him.
Barry smiled distractedly. âNothing worth saying out loud.â
Len poked him lightly. âIâll be the judge of that. Spill, Scarlet.â
âIt was just something Cait - Killer Frost said to me, thatâs all. Itâs nothing.â
âKnew it,â Len said. âItâs like I keep saying to you, Barry, theyâre doing it on purpose. Getting under your skin. Itâs what they do; theyâre trying to lure you back. Just remember who your real friends are. Hereâs a clue: itâs the ones who didnât build a gun to shoot you in the back. The Rogues might be mean and violent, but if one of us has a problem with you, weâll say it to your face. If one of us was going to shoot you, youâd know about it.â
âI know that,â Barry said. âAnd Iâm not going back. I know where I belong.â
âBut?â
Barry bit his lip. âI donât know. Sometimes I feel like this isnât where Iâm meant to be. I never wanted to be this way, you know? Caitlin was right. As a kid, all I ever wanted was to help people. Now the only person Iâm helping is myself.â
âHate to break it to you, Scarlet, but thatâs the way the world works. Nobodyâs going to have your back except you. And me,â he added, squeezing Barryâs thigh. âYour life wasnât exactly hot shit before I picked you up. Nobody ever bent over backwards to help you out. Why should you care about this city? It never gave a ratâs ass about you.â
âCisco and Caitlin did,â Barry said quietly. âThey looked after me. All that time I was in a coma, they never gave up on me. They helped me to become the FlashâŚâ
âDonât go getting sentimental. Donât forget, theyâre the ones who revealed your identity to the cops,â Len said. âTo the entire city, even. You had to abandon your whole life because of them. Your family, too. If theyâd kept their idiot mouths shut, you could have had a life outside of what we have. I never had a choice; Captain Cold was always just Leonard Snart. But you couldâve had more than that. Iris, and Joe...your dad. When was the last time you saw any of them? And if you did, would they ever accept you, knowing who you are?â
Helplessly, Barry stared at him.
âThey betrayed you, Barry. You made one lousy mistake in a moment of anger and in response they took away everything you had, including any chance you had to back out. Your career, your family⌠now all thatâs left is this. The Flash, and the Rogues. You couldnât put your life back together even if you tried. Youâll never be just Barry Allen again; youâll always be The Flash. Joint leader of the Rogues, Central Cityâs most wanted. Thatâs on them.â
Looking away, Barry sat and fidgeted. Messing with a loose thread on his shirt, then a weird stain on the sofa upholstery, and then the ring on his left hand, which he swivelled round and round absentmindedly. Len caught his hand.
âBarry.â
âSorry,â Barry said. Pulling away, he rubbed his eyes. âI just feel like a hypocrite. The more I look back on it, the more it bothers me. All this time Iâve been mad at Cisco and Caitlin for building that gun in case I went over to the dark side. I was so angry that they thought I was gonna turn on them, when I never gave them any reason to think I would. But at the end of the day, thatâs exactly what I did do.â
âSelf-fulfilling prophecy. You never wouldâve ditched them if they hadnât been so certain you were going to. Think about it. If they hadnât built that gun, if youâd all still been best buddies and Iâd showed up and tried to recruit you to the Rogues anyway, would you still have come with me?â
Barry shook his head.
âExactly. You put a guy in a box and heâs going to grow to fill it. Their expectations put fetters on you, Scarlet. Take myself, for example. My old man was a cold, mean bastard. He was a drunk, a thief, and a loser. Everyone always expected me to follow in his footsteps, treated me accordingly, and now look at me. Iâm not a drunk, or a loser - but I am a thief.â Len looked him in the eyes. âOwn it. Make it your decision. Canât change it now, Scarlet. Might as well embrace it.â He lounged back in his seat. âCisco and Caitlin may have set the gears in motion, but everything you did after you came with me was your own choice. And for one, Iâm glad they screwed you over. They kicked you right into my lap. I should probably send them flowers.â
Barry snorted quietly. âI mean, you could, but I expect Hartley would piss on them before they ever got to Ciscoâs desk.â
âIâll take the risk.â Len shifted slightly. âWhat Snow said...is that the only thing thatâs bothering you?â
âWhat else would I have to worry about?â Barry asked. âThe job went off without a hitch. Iâm here with you. Iâve got nothing else on my mind.â
âYouâre not having doubts about⌠our partnership?â
Barry looked down at the ring he was twisting around on his finger. The first thing Len had ever had him steal. âStart off small,â heâd said, before packing Barry off to Coast City museum to pinch an ancient-looking ring from their new exhibit. Of course, heâd neglected to mention that the ring in question had originally belonged to a British monarch, was on loan from some museum in London and was worth roughly an even million to the right buyer. Heâd saved that information for Barryâs return, and while Barry was staring at him, gobsmacked that heâd just stolen a million-dollar ring with no difficulty whatsoever, Len had pilfered the ring and pocketed it. âWelcome to the Rogues,â heâd said, and that was that.
Before long the incident had faded from Barryâs mind, and stealing ridiculously pricey artifacts had become commonplace. Just a part of daily life, really. Sometimes he took things so he could take them for a joyride around the city and then put them back before anybody knew they were gone - just for kicks. He hadnât thought about the ring again in months, until a year or so later, when Len had finally returned it to him on bended knee, peeping out at him from a little black box.
It had rested on his finger ever since. Len had even had it resized before giving it to him, since a ring made for Queen Victoriaâs fat little fingers would never have stayed on Barryâs slender hand.
âBe my partner in crime?â Len had said. Barry didnât think heâd ever said yes so fast in his life.
Of all the things heâd done since joining the Rogues, the thing he was most proud of stealing was Lenâs heart. Not that heâd ever say that out loud; the Rogues were all unanimous in their disgust of mushy declarations. But every now and then, Barry would look down at that little ring on his finger, priceless in more ways than one, and smile.
âWell?â Len demanded. âDo you regret it?â
âNever,â Barry promised.
âGood. Because just so you know, if youâd answered âyesâ to that question, I mightâve had to shoot you.â
âYouâd have to catch me first.â
âHmm.â
âI mean, youâre welcome to try,â teased Barry, pushing Lenâs feet off his lap and standing up. âIâd even give you a head start. If it makes you feel better, I could even close my eyes and count to ten.â
âShut up and get down here,â Len said, grabbing Barryâs wrist and pulling him back down onto the sofa.
He pulled Barry onto his lap, so that the younger man was straddling him with his knees on the couch. They sat together like that for a while, Barry still smiling faintly, Len holding his waist, his thumb rubbing against the sharp jut of Barryâs hipbone.
âYou remember what I told you, that first night?â Len asked.
âYou told me a lot of things. âShut upâ was at the top of the list, as I recall. Youâre gonna have to be more specific.â
âI told you that good guys always end up on the bottom. No matter how you swing things, how many little victories they take, thereâs always another battle, always another loss. Youâve gotta be willing to get the upper hand, no matter what it takes. Thatâs why the bad guys win, Scarlet. We always come out on top.â
âWell thatâs a little boring. Canât be on top all the time. Bad guys might top 24/7, but what about guys like us? Weâre not wicked through and throughâŚâ He started kissing Lenâs neck, making the older man shiver slightly. Smirking, Barry pulled back and breathed, âJust a little bit badly behaved.â
âWell, Iâll drink to that,â Len said. âIf you feel like passing me a beer.â
âMaybe later,â Barry said. âYou still have a debt to make good on.â
âDo I really? And what debt is that?â
âWell, I stole your diamond for you,â Barry reminded him. âYou said yourself that Iâve been a good boy.â He lowered his voice, looked up from underneath his eyelashes, and said, âSeems like Iâm gonna have to take my turn on the bottom.â
âHmm,â Len said, pulling him closer. âWell, when you put it like thatâŚâ
Playfully, he knocked Barry off his lap; the speedster landed on the sofa with a huff of surprise, at which point Len flipped him onto his back and crawled on top of him, pressing him purposefully into the upholstery. Grinning, Barry surged up to kiss him, whilst Len produced a condom from his pocket and, smirking, started to unbutton Barryâs pants.
âYou know, thereâs something to be said for ending up on the bottom,â Barry said, pulling his shirt over his head.
âMm,â Len agreed, and he started kissing Barryâs neck, making the speedster shiver. âGuess so. I underestimated my influence over you, Flash. Maybe thereâs still some good in you after all.â
And with that, he set his mind to the matter in hand: making sure that Barry forgot all about the conversation heâd had with that infuriating do-gooder Killer Frost.