Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Leonard Snart was a deeply unhappy rescuee.

Not that he was unhappy to have been rescued. That part, he was totally  on board: being unmade by the Oculus wasn’t exactly the most pleasant experience. But a small part of him would have liked, when he came back, to have been rescued because people wanted him to be rescued, not because they needed him. The cynical part of him, the most often in command, wasn’t surprised. He had been rescued because they needed cannon fodder in the latest catastrophe, nothing more, nothing less. But it had still hurt, when he had understood, hurt a supposed dead part of him, a part he had fought long all his life to shield and pretend it wasn’t there.

“Getting me killed once should have been enough”, he had still drawled, just to see their faces, but he had put on his parka and charged the Cold Gun.

A call to his sister had assured him she was safe from the latest Central’s horror: Mick, disembarked from the time ship for a few weeks, had taken her to Europe for a few heists to help her grieve. Leonard had insisted they stayed, not telling them he was already ready to embark into another fight.

“Steal me something pretty,” he had said, finishing the call, and Barry’s face was a symphony, because , well, stealing, but on the other side, Team Flash was putting Leonard’s life on the line already.

Leonard had smirked, all teeth, to Barry, but said nothing. He would definitely twist the knife of their guilt later, they weren’t getting off that easily, but first, business. And by that he meant saving his city.  

He hadn’t given his life with the Oculus for a speedster to go and declare himself God the hour after, thank you very much. Evil Speedster was getting put on ice, and Leonard had no intention to play nice.

Scarlet could whine all he wanted about killing people and bad habits, after Leonard had handled the problem.

He hadn’t exactly hidden his opinion on the subject, and Barry’s face every time had been a mix of emotions he couldn’t recognize, but the Speedster hadn’t protested. Then Cisco had looked at Len, when they were busy trying to predict the enemy movement, Barry and the other already in patrol, and grumbled: “I can’t believe Barry didn’t told you” and explained to Len who exactly the Evil Speedster was.

“Barry Allen?” Len had repeated, like he wasn’t sure his ears hadn’t suffered in his resurrection. Perhaps it was some sort of auditory hallucination.

“Yes, Savitar is a future version of Barry.”

“Savitar is Evil Barry Allen?!”

“Technically, a timeline remant”

“Of Barry Fucking Allen ?”

“Yes, yes, it’s an evil version of Barry. Try to keep up, Cold.”

“... And I thought I had seen everything when I set foot on a time ship for the first time. And why is the current, not Dark Side version, not protesting more when I talked about breaking the Sith version into tiny icyles?  ”

“Guilt, you know him. I think a part of him believe it would be well deserved.”

“Are you telling me that in the months I was gone the Scarlet Speedster became suicidal?”

Cisco had grimaced.

“He was running into fights with more powerful meta, even fights with you, a known killer, long before you left, Snart. The problem is old.”

“And yet, you let him do it.”

Cisco said nothing, just sighed, and for the first time since he had came back, Leonard saw how exhausted the genius seemed. His skin was greyer than his memories of him, and the spark in him seemed dimer. Leonard was in the habits to be more observant, the Oculus had shaken him more than he thought.  

“It’s been crisis after crisis,” Cisco said softly and Len didn’t comment, just leaned down again on the computer and tried to track Savitar. After, when they debriefed before stopping for the night, he examined more closely the team. All exhausted. All prone to horrible decisions. That wasn’t a reason for the sudden surge of protectiveness he felt, but he couldn’t stop it. That time with the Legends really had messed him.

They didn’t found Savitar on the first day, not on the second, or the third, and Len was, frankly, tired of sleeping in STAR Labs infirmary and eating take outs, and exhausted by Team Flash. The Legends had never been perfect, but they hadn’t been such a mess of goody two shoes. Except perhaps Pretty Boy.

On the fourth day, Len had decided enough was enough.

“We’ll reconvene tomorrow morning,” he had simply said.

“Where are you going?” Cisco had looked at him, immediately suspicious.

“Somewhere I don’t have to see all of you for a few hours and I can see something else that Star Labs.”

“I doubt your safe houses are still safe, one year after your death.” Cisco had commented, and even if it was probably a good remark,Leonard had arched an eyebrow and drawled: .

“Inviting me into your bed?”

It had been pretty satisfying to see the other spluttering and blushing. If Leonard hadn’t been fixated on another part of Team Flash, he could have had fun with the young genius...and that would have had the result of killing immediately Lisa’s interest in the man, something good, because a Rogue and a freaking member of Team Flash...that was a trainwreck waiting to happen.

Leonard put his coat on.

“I could pickpocket enough money for a motel room when I was ten, Ramon, no need to fear for your virtue.”

“Ok, no, please,” It was Barry, and he continued: “I have a guest room.”

“No desire to sleep in Detective West’s house,”  Len immediately answered, to hide his reactions to this invitation. When he had first seen Barry Allen’s face, all his terrible taste for younger, prettier things had came back like a punch in the gut, and seeing him again after all those months on the Waverider without getting laid...

“I moved three months ago. Just…. Please. I promise pancakes in the morning if you don’t go out and steal people wallets tonight.”

And well, what could do Leonard but accept? It was not every day than the Scarlet Speester, his best frennemy, the most interesting thing he had seen in the last years, and he included time travel in his latest experiences, offered to bake him breakfast. Also, it would have been worth it just for Snow and Ramon’s faces.

So, this is how Leonard Snart went home with Barry Allen for the first time. It was surprisingly calm and friendly, Barry made a pretty good vegan curry, and the bed was much more comfortable than the infirmary cot. Leonard also had the chance to see him in the morning, already dressed, helas, but still sleep-soft, and the privilege to make him laugh when he paid the pancakes in anecdotes of the Waverider, an heavily edited version of their most interesting missions.

So, of course, everything went in flames one hour after, when Leonard was poisoned instead of Barry…..

Chapter Text

Leonard and Barry had stepped into Jitters before going to Star Labs. Not that they were hungry, not after the pancakes, but one of the things Leonard had missed the more in time travel was good coffee. Gideon could never really reproduce the taste right in her replicated beverages and, well, dystopian 2046 wasn’t the place where you could order a double cinnamon moccha with enough sugar to give cavities to a Santa elf.

“Really not the type of coffee I would have thought you chose,” Barry had remarked and Leonard had snorted.

“Am I supposed to like it as black as my soul?”

“Your soul is pretty fine,” Barry had immediately answered and Leonard had hissed :

“No discours about reforming me before noon, I don’t have the patience, kid.”

“But after is fine?”

“Oh for the -…”

Barry was saved from the death by sarcasm that probably would have happened by the line moving and the barista cheerfully greeting Barry like an old friend. The speedster immediately brightened and started chatting him up, way more friendly than he was with Leonard. Vexing. The kid and him had history , and he didn’t warrant anymore attention because some hotshot barista batted his eyelashes.

And that  coffee-serving idiot was younger than Leonard, too, closer to Barry in age, with a face of an old Hollywood star and luscious brown hair. Leonard hated him on sight, a bitter ball of jealousy in his throat. Strange. He didn’t do jealousy, not even for people he slept with, and he wasn’t even friend with Barry Allen. Once the barista had finished taking Barry’s order and flirting, and finally deigned interest himself to Leonard, he turned to the thief and clearly did a double take. Oh, it was almost nothing, a fleeting expression, a sharpening around the eyes. The man had pretty good control, but for a second, he had let see his surprise about Leonard’s presence. Fucking fantastic, of all the people in Central, the one recognizing him….

Really what he needed this morning: running from the cops because an idiot in apron was more observant than the usual person. But the other didn’t start shrieking like a banshee about Captain Cold in the coffee shop, no, he took his orders and wrote Mick on the cup when Leonard affirmed it was his name, without even a second of hesitation.

Strange.

Did hot barista want into Barry’s pants so much that he could overcome the criminal entourage? Did what Leonard had believed was identifying him only had been surprise to see Barry with an older man? Was he interested in Barry, yeah, of course, everybody could see that man was interested in Barry, and thinking that morning coffee was following a night together, and did that double take was a way to weigh the competition?

The second they had their coffee, Leonard dragged Barry outside and opened his mouth to ask what Barry thought of the scene, but he didn’t have time for that: Barry’s watch bipped, a grating sound that would have awaken even Mick post bender.

“Meta alert,” Barry said, and he thrusts his cup into Leonard’s hands.

“Sorry, I need to run. Catch you later at Star Labs? Or do you want me to take you there?”

“Very much not! Even time travel is more comfortable than Scarlet Express and it makes the eyes bleed! Go play hero, I will catch a cab or something.”

Still Barry hesitated and Leonard, with a sigh destined to make him understand how unreasonable he was and how Leonard was a saint to put up with him, continued:

“I will be a literal angel, Scarlet, and try my best to not terrify the populace. Now run.”

On the last syllable, Barry wasn’t there anymore, the scent of ozone the last trace of his presence.

Leonard had lied, of course. He was a liar, a criminal, etc… It really wasn’t a problem to be caught up in Barry’s powers, in Barry’s arms, in fact he found it exhilarating...and he also had no intention to do his best to not terrify the populace, or more precisely…. Leonard turned and entered Jitters again, decided to clear up the mystery of the barista and Leonard’s identity.

No killing civilian. That, he would offer Barry, as a sign of trust, but he wouldn’t be Captain Cold anymore if he needed to kill to keep someone in line. That barista would have a terrible morning, perhaps miss a few days of work, but it would be all he risked.

Leonard’s eyes sweeped the room. Where was that smiling idiot with those stupid swooshing hair? Plastering his most ‘totally not a dangerous ex-inmate’ smile, he approached another employee. What had been the name on the tag of that flirting bastard? ...Martin, it had been Martin.

“Excuse me, is Martin on his pause?”

The young woman turned, an expression of surprise on her face.

“Martin? No, he’s supposed...he’s supposed to be just ….here?”

Leonard, after a second of hesitation, seated himself close on a bench outside and drank his moccha slowly. He could see the entire shop from there and the exasperation of the other employee as they handled the morning rush despite their missing member. Martin didn’t seem ready to emerge from his mysterious disappearance. Leonard’s presence had made him run. Ten minutes after, Leonard decided he was taking stupid risk staying there, drank Barry’s coffee too in some sort of vengeance, and lost himself in the morning crowd to catch a cab far away enough from the coffee shop.

Martin, if it was really his name, could be a problem. Perhaps he was simply a civilian, who had left the coffee shop, terrified because he had recognized Leonard, but he was still a risk. The most easiest solution for Leonard should be to cut his loses, to take the taxi to another part of town, not to Star Labs. Here, he could hotwire a car and leave Central. In one hour, he could be far away enough. He had fake passports and money in safes in banks, and he knew how ironic that was, in five towns less than two hours of Central. He could be in Europe in the morning, he could join Lisa and Mick and be safe, far away from Savitar, from Barry, take back his life. He had already died once. Hundreds of plans were floating through his mind, discarded half formed. So many possibilites, and all of them safer than going back to Star Labs to fight an evil version of the Flash, in a town where a barista could recognize him for what he was: a criminal escaped from jail, a man who wasn’t supposed to have coffee with CSI Barry Allen, and even less on having coffee with the Flash.

Even for Barry, it would be better if Leonard ran. What would happen if the cops knew Captain Cold had slept into their CSI guest room? Barry would lose his job, and it would only be the beginning. No amount of laughing together, no amount of pancakes or help he could offer, could ever change that.

And despite all of that, fifteen minutes into the drive, he leaned down and said to the driver :

“I’ve changed my mind, take me to Star Labs.”

He spent the rest of the time calling himself an idiot sotto voce. What was he thinking!? That was probably his stupidest decision, ever, counting the time he had followed a reprobate time master into his desperate crusade with his band of misfits heroes and criminals.

It was so stupid it was already giving him an ulcer: he could feel his stomach protesting all along the drive to the Labs, he could taste the bile and every time the car rolled on something inegal, a sharp burst of pain. When he entered the Labs, he was ready to play very nice with Snow for a fistfull of antiancid. It had been years since it had been so bad; since he was thirty-five and throwing up blood, and Mick had picked him up by the scruff of his neck and taken him to a mob doctor, who had forced Leonard to admit he wasn’t twenty anymore and that his body had this weakness he needed to take into consideration. But just three coffee, one in Barry’s kitchen and the two of Jitters, when he had been so good following recommendations for months: it shouldn’t hurt so fucking much, the lining of his stomach was supposed to be healed!

He took three steps into the Cortex and saw Cisco pale when he saw him, and run to him. The last thing he felt were Cisco’s arms around him,and Cisco was stronger than he looked, taking them in a controlled fall, cushioning him with his own body. Leonard heard the younger man calling Snow with a note of despair in his voice, and then there was only darkness.

“Hold him! Hold him, he’s convulsing again!”

“I don’t care, stole it, he needs it right now!”

“Where the fuck is that vein?”

“Caitlin, Caitlin!!!!”

Chapter Text

When Leonard opened his eyes, it was to the really boring vision of a white ceiling. He felt awful, even worse than the time he had frozen his hand and broken it to save his team. He would have turned his head, searched for answer, but exhaustion won and it wasn’t even twenty seconds before he was unconscious again.

The next time, he was present enough to let Caitlin Snow help him with a few mouthful of water. Her hands were cold and careful with him, soft in a way people never were with Leonard Snart, criminal.

The third time was the one when he remembered how he had put himself in this situation. He turned on the infirmary cot. Barry was sleeping in a chair next to the bed and Snow was examining a chart, a frown on her face. She even smiled, reassuring, comforting, when she saw him awake.

“What happened?” He croaked softly, and his voice sounded like he hadn’t used it in days, “How long…”

“Two days. But you’re good, Leonard. Everything will be fine. We purged everything from your body.”

It was the first time she used his first name, and the colder part of his brain immediately went to list the way he could use it. She was a healer, first and foremost, and she would be less wary of him now, more easily manipulated once she had to care for him. He pushed that part of him down, for now, and asked; “What happened exactly?”

“You were poisoned. We think Savitar tried to kill you.”  

She looked at Barry and continued: “He probably remembered every time you overpowered him when he was only Barry and fear what you can do.”

She took his blood pressure and offered him water again. Barry continued to snore softly despite her moving in the room. She saw Leonard’s gaze on him.

“He’s exhausted. He ran every minute he wasn’t at his job to try to find Savitar to save you.”

“That was stupid of him.”

She looked at him strangely.

“You were dying,” she said, “dying for having tried to help us.” Whatever she saw on his face, she didn’t insist.

“Do you want to try eating something? I’ve you on an IV, but your body needs all the help it can to recover from that.”

“My stomach…”

“Yes, I know about your past troubles in that area. You throw up blood and I performed a gastroscopy. I feared you needed surgery, but you’ll be happy to know it’s bleeding, but it resisted” She hold up a hand, “I’m a doctor, Leonard, and whatever I learned or will learn, treating you, is between you and me, even if it’s something as simple and unrelated as an history of ulcers.Strangely, it probably saved you: your stomach revolted and gave us warnings in time, when someone else would have simply absorbed the poison into their bloodstream. I want you on proton-pump inhibitors for five weeks, just to be sure the corrosive action of the poison doesn’t send you into a relapse of your problems, but I will share only with the others what you want to be shared.”

She took another vial of his blood and left to analyze it, and he stayed with a sleeping Barry. Strange. Days ago, she would have woken up Barry, to make sure he wasn’t vulnerable. Leonard watched him sleep, that beautiful, exasperating man, whose future would probably be martyr or Savitar, with his too big heart and his dangerous power. Leonard authorized himself ninety seconds of weakness, no more. Sixty seconds to watch this serene face, trying to burn it into his memories. Then thirty seconds where he dared, once, just once, touch the brown hair, in a soft caress, almost not there.

Then he closed his eyes and prayed for sleep.

Ninety seconds and no more, not ever, because he was too human to renounce those ninety seconds after almost dying, but no more because Barry was a hero, and Leonard was not.

Later, in the Cortex, Team Flash and Leonard came back to the poisoning.

“It’s something I have never seen,” Snow explained, “Something nobody had never seen. At first, I thought the perpetrator wanted Leonard, stop making this face Cisco, it’s his name, to die of blood loss, but further testing proved it was supposed to attack his hippocampus.”

“I have no idea what it is?” Leonard admit, nursing the rooibos cup  she made him. It was such a small think, and he found himself stupid to feel touched, but how long had it been since someone prepared him a warm drink, just because they thought he would like it?

“The part of the brain that handle memories,” Team Flash three nerds answered immediately.

“They wanted to wipe my brain clean?” Leonard asked, his voice suddenly colder than even his gun.

“More some specific memories. I don’t even understand how that work, it should be impossible, or something encountered by the Legends, not by us!”

Caitlin put her head on her hand. She looked as tired as the rest of them, Leonard remarked, as the young woman continued: “Also, it makes no sense. That is a vicious, brilliant poison. How whoever conceived that could mishandle it that way?”

“What do you mean?” Cisco asked.

“If Leonard had been even ten minutes later here, he would have been braindead. How does someone capable of conceiving such a weapon mishandle the dosage that way?”

It was the moment Leonard understood, in some sort of vertigo.

“It was for Barry,” he said, forgetting in a moment that he wasn’t supposed to use the other man first name.

“What?”

“I never go to Jitters! What was the chance that Savitar had a man working here to try to poison me? You, predictable Scarlet, you go every time you can,  because law abiding citizens don’t fear having habits! You go every morning and flirt with pseudo barista and every morning, the pseudo barista can give you a dose strong enough to defeat your super healing for the day. And you come back the next morning, and they only have to dose you again. Only this morning, I drank your coffee, because I hate throwing away food! And that almost killed me because the dose was for a speeder and your fucking super healing!”

“I would know if I had been poisoned!” Barry protested.

“If some of your memories had been stolen? Barry, how would you know?” Cisco intervened. They all looked suspiciously as Barry who shuffled awkwardly in a way Leonard refused to call adorable.

“Come on, guys, Savitar is supposed to be an Evil futur possible me, what would he care if I forget specific things?”

“Well, there is only one way of being sure,” Leonard decided, “It’s question time. Cisco, Snow and me, we’ll try to poke at your memories and find if you can’t answer things we know you should. And you probably should bring back the West from wherever you put them to protect them from homicide by Speedster, because they knew you first.”

“They’re on another Earth,” Barry explained, “ and safe here,” and as he saw how Leonard was ready to insist.

“No. Please. Just…. I can’t have them die. Not so soon after my dad.” Barry had a smile that tried to be brave and only made Leonard want to hug him, “After all, you’ll have an occasion to ask me all the horrible questions you want, that should make you happy.”

“I prefer to steal my intel, thank you very much, I’m an honest crook, Scarlet”, and this time, Barry’ smile was a little more real, in face of their usual banter.

They poked and prodded and asked, and Leonard learned probably way too much about the Speedster powers and history, because those three were really too trusting, and only made him leave the room when Barry was supposed to remember missions he had shared with other superheroes. Leonard didn’t even remark he already knew who the Arrow was, because he appreciated the respite. The anger he had felt, that someone could try to steal something so intimate than a memory from Barry, had been even worse than when he had thought it was about him, and it made him uncomfortable.

He was way, way too deep.

He should run.

In fact, he would have, he had almost passed the door of the Lab to never come back, when a sudden idea made him turn. He almost ran to the Cortex.

“Eh,” Cisco said, “We found it! Barry is missing almost a week after his supposed return from Starling City. It was last year, for helping Team Arrow, but the Arrow said Barry left the three April, but Barry is sure he came back only the nine! And he came back the nine in the Lab, and we weren’t worried, because at the beginning, he was supposed to came back the ten April. So, six days are missing. Six days Savitar wants Barry forget.”

“But what if it’s the other way,?” Leonard asked.

“What?”

“Listen carefully: if you wanted Savitar to forget whatever happened those six days, would it work if you made Barry forget them, if you couldn’t find Savitar to make him forget them?”

A moment of silence, then Barry smiled, because of course people poisoning him didn’t even dim his morals.

“You’re brilliant! “ He said, and Leonard refused to blush, he was an adult, thank you, not a teenage girl.

“Yes, it would work,” Snow decided, “but it only brings more questions. What did it happen during those six days? And, almost as important, if it’s more complicated than us against Savitar, who? Who poisoned Barry to reach his future time remanant?”

Chapter Text

Leonard let his head drop on the desk in a theatrical thump. He had always been a bit of a drama queen and those last two years had only accentuated those tendencies.

“This is giving me a headache,” he complained, “ and I love to plan heists to the second.”

“I was sure a good mystery would be your own true love,” Caitlin remarked and Len snorted inelegantly.

«Ask me how to infiltrate a futurist stronghold. How to manipulate the russian mob. How to steal something from the Musée d’Orsay. But we’re trying to discover who poisoned me trying to poison Barry to steal his time remanant’s memories. We’re going straight from strange to the really bizarre, and I once helped kidnap my three hours old self -”

“What?!”

“Long story, I will tell you in exchange of good booze another day, but to come back to the subject: Scarlet, your life is the weirdest shit!”

“You time-travel ! You fought an immortal tyrant and you just confessed meeting baby-you!”

“And I still find your life strange, it’s probably a sign you should rethink some of your choices.” Leonard quipped, and totally didn’t smile when Barry Allen, superhero, pouted like a puppy who had just found the cat on his favorite pillow.

And then a whole lot of nothing happened.

From what Cisco admitted to Leonard, it was quite the usual in Flash business. Long periods of waiting when they could have almost normal lives, then crazy periods of terror, violence and psychopathic meta, and then normal times again.

Except this time, it didn’t feel like a moment of calm, it felt like the eve of battle. How could Barry go around as usual, when the monster waiting for them had his face and his voice and his soul? And the pain he felt right in his soul from this idea seemed to drip unto his friends, and unto Leonard. Every night, Leonard hauled him to another motel, decided to limit every possibility of the enemy, whatever it was, Savitar or that new, unknown player, and he used the old system of a page of the phone book and a dart to chose the take-out every day. Even if the simple idea of a phone book apparently insulted Cisco, who thought them barbaric in those time of internet.

Barry became more pale every day, quieter, probably torturing himself in imagining all the horrors his evil double was plotting or committing.

Leonard had stopped lying to himself about leaving. He was way too deep. He was in love with a young, naive, beautiful idiot whose broken edges and trauma would never properly align with Leonard’s own. Hell, Leonard’s own set of morals would probably go better with Savitar’s!

But it was too late. He would fight for the Flash and then, when Barry would be safe, and only then, he would ran away and never come back, to be sure the old, fissured thing that was supposed to be his heart, wouldn’t crack under the pressure of those long forgotten emotions.

Just….just to kill Savitar. To make sure Barry was safe and to make sure Barry’s hands wouldn’t be dirtied by his own blood. Leonard could bear the weight of that murder, even if it was the murder of a man who, once had been Barry Allen, to be sure Barry wouldn’t have too.

Every night, he listened to the younger man sleep across the room in another motel, most of the time in places Leonard would never have taken a one-hour lover, and never, ever, Barry, if circumstances had been different. Barry wasn’t made for motels like this. He wasn’t made for the people who leered when they saw them enter together, seeing how young and beautiful Barry was, and drawing entirely wrong conclusions.  Barry should have stayed in the light, in full view, Barry was a man anyone could be proud to call his.

The Flash ...if Leonard had the Flash, he would stole him the world, but Barry was a hero, and Leonard a too-old crock, so he stayed, he said nothing, he prepared himself to kill a man with Barry’s face, and he listened to him sleep  and sometimes if there was a sob there, he did Barry the courtesy of pretending he was already asleep and hadn’t heard.

And finally, six days after Leonard’s almost death, as the thief was finishing his part of that night patrol, as he arrived to Star Labs, a car arrived too quickly and stopped in a unpleasant noise of tires, and let out Iris West and her father.

“What the fuck are you doing on this Earth?” Leonard immediately asked, his hand on the Cold gun.

“We never left,” she said, already opening the door of Star Labs “ Come, we need a war Council, Savitar just took Barry. You too,” she said over her shoulder and Leonard looked over and going out from the other side of the car was the poisoning barista.

Chapter Text

“Explanation, now,” Leonard ordered the moment they were inside the lab. His hand was playing with the trigger of the Cold Gun, and his mind was full of delicious images of Murderous-Asshole-Martin iced in one giant popsicle. Perhaps Leonard would even preserve him, instead of smashing him to bits, and keep him as a memento for all the stupid idiots who thought to touch the Flash. Let them see what happened to people who tried to hurt Barry.

The murderous barista didn’t even do him the grace to look afraid, or to utter some begging ,  instead he gave him a one-million-watts smile with his stupid perfect teeth. Leonard immediately hated him a little more, something he really didn’t think possible, since all his day dreams those last days had been equally divided between Barry’s lips and Martin-pseudo-barista violent demise. 

“I’m the ghost of Christmas past, and I’m not supposed to be there, so you can continue to call me Martin” the other man said, and Leonard would have killed him where he stood if Iris West hadn’t barked :

“Enough! You two will take out a ruler later and handle your machismo parade, now, we need to rescue Barry.”

“Nice of you to help,” Cisco, who was already trying to triangulate Barry’s phone, said, “but 1) how did you know he was taken, 2) who is the new dude? 3) aren’t you supposed to chill on an undisclosed Earth for your own safety?”

“If Barry didn’t know we were still there, his alter ego wouldn’t either,” Joe West explained, apparently decided to play the voice of reason, “and we could be back-up Savitar didn’t account for.” 

Leonard took a second to stuff back down his murderous rage to listen to the reasoning. He could always ice the poisoner later. 

“Not bad,” he granted, making it clear he was speaking to the West, and not to the new man, “but if we don’t find Barry-”

“We will”, Iris interrupted, “the substance working on altering his memory can also be traced by technology Savitar can’t access.” She gave a strange object to Cisco. It was light green, looked like plastic but seemed strangely malleable, and someone had adapted an USB port to it, in a mess of electric wire that proved the mysterious someone had tried to make work together two technologies which weren’t supposed to. 

“What is this thing?!” Cisco exclaimed, almost ready to take it apart immediately. It wobbled and shined lightly and seemed part organic. Leonard wouldn’t have wanted to touch it, but Cisco ran his hands on it like he was auditioning for a Gollum’s part in ar Lord of the Rings remake.

“Barry first,” Iris insisted, “Nerd orgasm later.”

“Eh, he isn’t authorized to take it apart,” not-Martin insisted, “ Do you realize the number of rules I broke taking this thing, and introducing mind-altering substances of that type here?”

“What do you mean, here? And  who the fuck are you?” Leonard asked, and he let the Cold Gun charge, the noise a totally unsubtle warning. 

To his surprise, the guy didn’t seemed worried, and the West didn’t seem worried for their strange associate. Iris was guiding Cisco in using the strange sensor, and Joe West was busy putting on a bulletproof vest. 

The Martin guy who certainly wasn’t name Martin just sat down on a table, smiling again a movie star smile, totally unworried about the cold gun and Leonard’s kill list, acting like not only he was the most dangerous thing in the room, but dangerous on such a level that Leonard didn’t even register as a threat. 

“Is it about the poisoning thing? Because I must insist that it was Barry’s choice.”

“Don’t try to lie to me. I’m a professional in this particular domain.”

“Then look me in the eyes, Cold, and see that I’m saying the truth. I simply offered to Barry the idea, and he ran with it. Ah, ran with it .”

“Why Barry would…”

“Because he was worried about the death toll, of course. What else could push Barry to such extremities? He knew that if Savitar remembered, he would escalate things and shield himself against m...against the best weapon against a speedster. So, with the opportunity, he accepted to forget and to wait for the moment that crazy version of a future past would kidnap him, acting like a beacon for us to find Savitar. Of course, knowing him, he will feel double guilty later because you drank when you weren’t supposed to drank and almost bleed to death, but -”

“It’s you,” Leonard interrupted him, something clicking in his mind, “It’s you Barry and Savitar were supposed to forget. You meet Barry in this missing days.”

“I swept Barry of his feets, you mean,” the other bragged and Leonard needed to count to ten in his head to not try to kill him.

“You’re some sort of ….You’re one of them. Like Barry. A...a fellow hero.”

The other man had a self deprecating huff. 

“There are no heroes like Barry,” and for the first time in their short acquaintance, Leonard was of the same opinion, “and I’m something you hate even more, I’m a damn cop!”

A noise, on the other side on the lab.

“Found him,” Cisco yelled.

“Suit up,” said the new guy, who was still anonymous, “and let’s get the Flash back.”

Chapter Text

A warehouse. What was it always a goddamn warehouse? If Leonard relocated to Central for good again after this crisis , he would use a upscale penthouse as a home base, instead of a warehouse, because they were apparently all the rage with the criminals now, and he hated the idea to be common. 

Fitted into a bulletproof vest, because West Senior had insisted that he was supposed if he went with them and accepting had seemed quicker, Leonard followed the two West and the not-barista into Savitar’s lair. Not-Really-Martin wasn’t wearing a vest and Leonard hadn’t asked if his powers were of the bulletproof sort, or if West didn’t care if Not-Martin was changed into gruyere cheese, full of holes, because he didn’t care. 

Savitar had Barry hanging from a butcher hook, tied tight by the wrists, and Leonard could see blood on the rope. He wanted to kill something, someone, he didn’t care, but wanting to avenge was easier for him than his second idea, to soothe, to help, to heal, all sort of things Leonard didn’t trust himself with. 

Savitar laughed when he saw them. It was obscene, that crazy smile on Barry’s face, scars or no scars, it was that crazy spark the problem, it shouldn’t have been there. It was like a blasphemy, that cruelty, that darkness, in any version of Barry Allen. 

Ten seconds after their entry, they were disarmed, but still free, as if another proof was needed that Savitar didn’t think them dangerous. It was almost insulting, how beneath him he thought them. West Senior put a hand on Leonard shoulder, who shrugged it but took it for the cue it was, and reigned his panic and rage. 

“The cavalry I presume?” Savitar asked, his cruel smile firmly in place. He gave a bored gaze to not-Martin, “You’re Cold new boytoy? Came from the past or the future?”

“I’m from right there, right now, in fact,” the other answered and for the first time, Leonard saw a trace of something else than carefully cultivated arrogance on his face. When he looked at Savitar, the man who had poisoned Barry Allen to steal Savitar’s memories looked sad. 

Perhaps it was that sadness? Savitar, for a second looked troubled. Leonard risked a glance at Barry. He had the same expression Savitar had, a mix of curiosity and hesitation, like he something was there, just there, a thought he could sense, they could sense but not seize. 

“Who are you?” Savitar asked. 

“A man who think you are better than that.”

Savitar huffed a laugh. 

“Yeah, gonna give me the same speech as the rest of Team Flash? No thanks, buddy. Not interested in not existing. Iris West will die.”

“Not a member of Team Flash. You would remember me if I was.”

“Yes, yes I would… it makes no sense.” 

Savitar circled the man. In the warehouse, everybody was silent, observing the Speeder circling the man like a prey, and the false barista kept the same posture, calm, confiant. Leonard remembered a thought he had had earlier : that man handled himself as if he was the most dangerous thing in the room, even when two Speedsters and a time traveling Rogue were in the room. 

”You kissed us!” Savitar suddenly said, and he sounded strangely outraged, like the man had broken some sort of etiquette and Savitar was an old Aunt. 

“Starting to remember? Normal; it’s been a few days since Barry was dosed, and you have no idea the dosage we had to use for your metabolism. Like, there are space whales that need a smaller dose than you two. You. You two, even if I dosed only one….You’re really pushing the limits of english grammar, we need more pronouns.”

“You made us forget you,” Savitar continued, and he looked back at Barry, in a strange show of acknowledging suddenly that in a way, they were in that together. 

“Yes, I did,” the man said, “because there was no way to preserve the kiss, and for you to forget only what I could do.”

Leonard could see, on Savitar’s face, the trace of his thoughts. To attack the man would admit he was worried about what the man could or couldn’t do, and in his hour of triumph, Iris in his hands, Barry in his hands, his arrogance couldn’t handle it. 

Savitar hesitated. 

He really shouldn’t have. 

Light exploded. 

It spilled from the man like water from a geyser, and it was so violent, intense, than Leonard couldn’t do anything else than let go of his weapon and shield his face. It was like being tossed right into the sun. 

If the sun had been green. 

After a moment, light dimmed itself and Leonard opened his eyes, slowly, carefully. 

Savitar was prisoner of an emerald bubble, raging against his confinement. He disappeared in a blurr, again and again, using his speed to try breaking the strange structure, but without success, and he finally fell on his butt, right here, in the bubble, panting like he had run thrice around the Earth. 

The barista was still there, but slightly shining, wrapped into some sort of green and black spandex, a domino on his face, and levitating a good twenty centimeters above the dirty floor. He touched the bubble with the same sad expression. 

“You can run all you want, you won’t go out of this until I want it. It’s as unbreakable as my will.”

Savitar responded by a word Leonard would have sworn Barry didn’t know and Leonard decided those two could be each other problems for a few minutes. With Joe West help, he took Barry down. The younger man was wobbly, his wrists and his head were bleeding, but his eyes were clear and fixed on the man in green. 

“Help me?” Barry asked Leonard and really what could Leonard do but put Barry’s arms across his shoulders and help him to the other two. 

Something ugly passed on Savitar’s face when he saw Barry come closer. 

“Time to gloat before finishing me off, Flash?”

“Nobody is finishing nobody,” the green guy said, and really Leonard needed to learn his name, it was becoming ridiculous.

“Who are you?” Barry asked, and the man who hadn’t answered Savitar or Leonard, this time gave an answer. 

“My name is Hal,” he said and across his face, the domino dissolved in a shower of spark, letting his face bare. 

“I don’t remember you,” Barry admitted, “ just…”

“Just that we kissed once?” Hal asked and Leonard would have hated him without that sadness in his eyes. Those were the eyes of a man who knew it would never happen again. 

“Yes, but it makes no sense, because I remember it on the moon. Was I concussed or something?”

“I may have an habit showing off to beautiful young people I reeeeallly want to kiss,” Hal said with half a smile and Savitar and Barry had the same bewildered expression. 

Iris West joined them, her eyes on the bubble, her father right behind. 

“Admire the beast before the kill,” Savitar quipped, baring his teeth to Iris in a feral grin. 

“You’re going to live you, gigantic drama queen,” Hal affirmed, turning to him, “I’m taking you to people who can stabilize that whole mess of future time remanent, or whatever the fuck you did to your timeline and body. And then, to a shining blue guy who, I hope, can do something about those pesky murder tendencies, unfit for a Barry Allen!”

“You can’t go!” Barry interjected, “I don’t… I don’t remember you.”

“You will,” Hal said, “ You will remember I’m your friend, I always was, I always will be, in every forms, lives or incarnations.” 

He pointed at the bubble and his prisoner, “Even the most broken ones.” He smiled again, and touched Barry’s face. Leonard let him, because he understood what it was. A farewell. 

“I am Barry Allen’s friend. And right now, he’s a Barry Allen that need a friend more than anything else in the whole galaxy because he’s alone, when you aren’t. He’s a Barry Allen who needs me more than you do.”

Savitar made a rude noise. There were tears in Barry’s eyes and he said: “It’s strange, I feel like I’m losing you in a divorce because you’re choosing the other parent.” 

Hal huffed a laugh. 

“You’ll never lose me, even if years pass before we see each other again. What’s time, what’s space, for crazy people like us. And you aren’t alone, you have Team Flash, and Cold too.” He leaned down and kissed Barry, half on the cheek, half on the lips, despite Joe West’s exasperated exclamation,  then had the audacity to wink to Leonard. 

“Take care of him, Cold!” 

The bubble, still full of swearing, struggling speedster, and Hal rose up into the air and passed the roof like it simply wasn’t there and the last thing they heard was Hal yelling: 

“Look up at the stars and think off me!”

Chapter Text

Five hours after, on Earth: 

Leonard was sitting on the hood of Cisco’s car watching Star Labs and thinking. On his feet, there was a bag with the usual quick escape helpers. A fake ID, a change of clothes, a few toiletries accessories and two rolls of cash. 

Leonard had been trying to convince himself to put that bag on his shoulder and go for almost forty minutes when the door of the Labs opened and Barry stepped outside, a mug in his hand. 

“Coffee break?,” Leonard asked.

“No, that one is for you. You’ve been sitting here in the cold for a long moment,” Barry answered, giving him the courtesy of not speaking of the bag. 

“I can’t drink-”

“-it’s not coffee,” Barry interrupted, and he thrusted the mug in his hands, like a clumsy offering. Leonard could smell the fragrance of rooibos. It was such a small thing. A warm drink Leonard could enjoy without his still healing stomach hurting. Such a small kindness, but for Leonard, who had only known violence, it was enough for  a pathetic burn in his throat, in his heart. 

He took a sip, because nothing could have stopped him from tasting the drink Barry had made for him. 

“I know we asked for your help only with this crisis-,” Barry started, and ok, apparently, they were talking about Leonard’s bag now.

“-you know I will come when you call,” Leonard said, to spare Barry from having to ask, and because he had stopped deluding himself. He would always come if Barry asked.

“Well, I hoped I wouldn’t have too. I hoped… I hoped perhaps you could stay. It’s not as exciting as a time traveler, being on Team Flash, but I’m sure you would find some of our cases intellectually stimulating.”

“Barry,” Leonard said as gently as he could, “ Team Flash doesn’t need me. You have good people around you.”

“Perhaps Team Flash doesn’t need you. Perhaps I don’t need you. Perhaps I just want you there. Because, because, you’re you. Because you’re funny and dangerous and so efficient and competent it’s frightening, and you like to pretend you’re as cold as your name; but you still care, even if you prefer to pretend you don’t. Because, when I thought Savitar would kill me, I swore to myself I would ask if I survived. Ask you to stay. And ask you for coffee. Except, you can’t drink coffee right now, but it could be something else. A soda? Can you drink soda? Or mini golf ? No, you don’t seem like you play mini golf. Except if you want. If you want, it’s awe-”

“Barry!”

“Yes?”

There was a moment of silence. Leonard would have never asked any other day. Taking risks in the job was one thing, but years had taught him to guard his heart like the most fragile of artefact. But it hadn’t been a day like any other, and he was too tired for caution.

“Are you trying to ask me out?”

“I think? I mean...yes? What would you do if I was?”

“I would take my bag back to the Labs.”

Barry smiled, a little shy, a lot pleased and Leonard knew, right there, that he would never, ever, leave. With anyone else, he would have felt prisoner. 

With Barry, it felt like arriving home at the end of a long journey.

Five years after, on an unnamed planet

Savitar observed, a pleased smile on his face, the purple sun going down on the horizon. It was his last night on this planet and he was content to have enjoyed this beautiful spectacle one last time. 

He would be on Earth again the next day and a small part of him wanted to enjoy it one last time, like he didn’t know he would ever again. 

And it was true, of course, because he was going back to Earth for a call to arms. Every disponible force was converging to Earth, answering the JLA call, as the universe itself was in danger. 

It wouldn’t be Savitar’s first battle since he had left Earth: those last two years, he had helped the Corps in a few skirmishes, but that one...that one would be different. He would have to work with the Flash, for once. Five years in space, meeting so many aliens races, learning so much,  working so hard on his redemption and the idea of his original version still made him cringe in guilt. 

A emerald light shoot down from the night’ sky and Savitar smiled. His taxi to Earth was there. 

Hal touched down a few feet from him. He looked worried, tired, like he had been continuously those last few weeks but Savitar still took comfort in his presence. He had hated Hal with such force, at the beginning, when the Lantern had taken him to Oa, first to stabilize his form, then to meet the Blue Corps, who Hal was sure could help with his hate and desire for world domination. 

And he had been right. 

Savitar had hated him so fucking much, even as he was getting better, because he felt like Hal had taken him there and abandoned him. It had been almost two years before they saw each other again. But Hal had been right, in that too. At the beginning, he would have only anchored Savitar to Earth, to his past, to his hate. 

The rest, the friendship when they had meet again, the relationship, it had come only after, a surprise. Like a reward. 

Now, the Lantern opened his arms and Savitar walked into them willingly, stealing a light kiss from his lover. 

“Take me to Earth,” Savitar said, “let’s save the world,” and the emerald light wrapped the world around them.