Work Text:
Barry curled in on himself. It had been hours now, hours trapped in this cage all alone, a prisoner in the prison he himself had helped make, and he didn’t even have the energy to lift his head. His face was sticky from tears, his breathing shaky.
His shoulder still ached from where the tranq had hit him. It had almost certainly bruised, like when one gets an IV or a vaccine. With his powers dampened, he wasn’t healing, and so he was stuck, unable to leave. Stuck with the aches and stuck with his thoughts.
And Barry fucking hated it. He hated the silence, hated the way he couldn’t feel lightning arching through his veins. He hated the bland blue walls, which seemed to press in on him, threatening to crush him. But most of all, he hated how the memory of how he had gotten in here kept flashing before his eyes, torturing him repeatedly with the betrayal of those he had considered his friends and family.
He sniffled, new tears welling in his eyes.
God, I thought I could trust them.
But they had manipulated him. They had imprisoned him. They had betrayed him. His best friends, his family, the girl he had loved since he was a child, had played him like he was a pawn on a chessboard. Just like Eobard Thawne had done. Just like how Jay Garrick had done.
And they had drugged him, too. They hadn’t just lied to him and shoved him in a cage where his powers wouldn’t work like he was an animal. They had shot Barry with a drug specifically designed to counter his metabolism…which meant they had been thinking of this for a while.
That fucking hurt. It was like the cold gun all over again but so much worse because by now they knew Barry, they knew him, and even Joe and Iris had been involved this time, and now he was locked up like a misbehaving pet.
Barry’s fist slammed against the ground and he ignored the pain sparking in his hand. He glared through teary eyes at the bottom of the door keeping him from his powers and from freedom.
That motherfucker killed my dad and they’re just gonna, what, let him free? Toss him back to Earth-2 and hope he doesn’t come back? What the hell? That asshole broke my back, killed my dad, stole my speed, kidnapped Caitlin and broke her heart, and they’re just going to lock him up on his world. As if that is a punishment, especially for what he did.
Barry thought of Oliver and desperately wished that the older man was here. He’d understand what Barry was feeling. He’d probably help Barry kill Zoom, like he’d helped him fight the Reverse-Flash. The Arrow wasn’t one to shy away from the blood of men who had harmed others, especially those he was close to.
As well, Felicity and Dig wouldn’t have locked Barry up in a cell. They wouldn’t have drugged him, committing a violating act against Barry. They wouldn’t have broken him like this.
In his pocket, his phone chimed. Barry sighed, annoyed, but he pulled it out nonetheless.
Joe: Hey
Barry didn’t bother reading any of the other messages (as there were several more). He just turned his phone off and threw it at the nearest wall, where it bounced off and landed harmlessly a few feet away, a new anger blazing beneath his skin. It wasn’t the grieving, furious, anger burning with the heat of a thousand suns he’d felt since his father had been murdered. It was the cold, jagged, fury of a man shattered by those he had trusted, like shards of ice.
That gave him an idea.
Cold…Snart.
Barry forced himself to stand up, stumbling as all the blood rushed back to his limbs, and he stumbled towards his phone. He picked it up, thankful that the padded walls had prevented it from breaking, as he turned it back on. He ignored the messages from Joe and Iris, they made him want to smash something, and he clicked on his contacts before selecting a number he hadn’t used in a while.
“Hello?”
The sound of Snart’s suspicious voice made Barry slump against a wall, a sigh of relief escaping his lips.
“Hey, Snart, I need a favor,” Barry told the criminal, willing his voice to not shake.
There was a pause.
“Scarlet,” Snart spoke slowly, the worry in his tone making something in Barry’s broken heart feel warm, “are you…alright?”
A bitter laugh was Barry’s reply, broken and cold. “No. It’s been…a really shitty week.”
“Right. What do you need, kid?” Snart- no, Len, he was a friend right now- responded promptly.
Barry closed his eyes briefly, a few stray tears slipping down his face silently. “I need you to break me out of the Pipeline at S.T.A.R Labs.”
Another pause.
“What?” Len asked, his voice dangerously quiet. “Scarlet, why the hell are you locked in the metahuman prison?”
Barry rubbed his face with the sleeve of his suit, desperately trying not to cry again. “My friends put me in here. They-they shot me with a tranq dart. They didn’t want me to face my dad’s killer. They didn’t want me to do anything to help stop him.”
Voices in the background echoed across the phone, sounding distinctly like Len yelling at Mick Rory and Lisa and the other two responding, before Len spoke again.
“We’re coming, kid.” Len sounded furious, but it was not directed at Barry, and it made him feel something to know that someone could still get so protective of him, that someone could still genuinely care about him. “We’ll be there in around ten minutes.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?” Len’s voice softened. “I won’t be able to talk because I’m driving since Lisa never got a license and Mick can’t drive straight to save his life, but do you want me to keep the line open?”
“Yes, please,” Barry whispered. “It’s- I’ve been so alone in here, Len.” He barely choked down a sob. “I hate it. I…just need to know someone’s coming. That someone hasn’t given up on me.”
Because it sure looked like everyone else had. Locking him up in the Pipeline as if he were a threat? Like he was one of the villains they stopped together on a regular basis? After drugging him?
Yeah. No. They thought he was a monster. And that hurt worse than when Zoom had broken Barry’s back and publicly humiliated him.
Len swore in Russian. “Of course I’m not giving up on you, kid.”
Then the line fell silent, except for the sounds of wheels and traffic, but Barry leaned back, exhaustion sweeping over him. He wasn’t worried about Len coming. If he was, he’d make it here. If he wasn’t…well, Barry was getting used to being betrayed. He was too tired to care anymore.
At some point he must have fallen asleep because when he next blinked open his eyes his mouth was dry and Leonard Snart stood in front of his cage, the cold gun aimed directly at it, freezing through the door and then shattering the lock. Len turned the gun off and hurried towards Barry, his usually composed face showing anxiety as he knelt down by Barry’s side.
“Hey, kid,” Len whispered, and he stiffened when Barry tackled him in a hug, burying his face in Len’s sturdy shoulder, the tears coming down like hailstones now.
“I’ve got you, Scarlet,” Len murmured, scooping Barry up bridal-style. “You’re going to be okay.”
With Len by his side, with someone who actually cared for him and trusted him by his side, maybe Barry would be.