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Saints and Sinners was bustling. Len was drinking slowly, though, never being inebriated without at least Mick or Lisa to watch over him. And even then, he rarely got any further than being a bit tipsy. Alcohol was just a way to pass the time and not look too out of place at a bar. Not that it mattered that Len was here. He owned the place, after all.
But still. Len was drinking. He had a half-finished plate of fries on the table in front of him. The other Rogues were around him, most of them newly released from the Flash’s prison. Len still didn’t quite understand why Barry had a sudden change of heart about releasing some of the metahumans, but Len wasn’t going to complain about it.
Shawna decided that she didn’t want to be a criminal, but rather a medic and part-time bartender. Mark stuck around for jobs. A few others were around as well, like Hartley who tracked down Len just a week ago. James Jesse stopped by and didn’t leave.
It was a rather average start to the night. The moon was creeping closer to the middle of the sky. The sun had gone down but there were still faint traces of it. The sky was a dark periwinkle, with stars ebbing into the scene. Len quite liked the scenery.
It turned into a not-average night when Barry Allen walked into the bar wearing black jeans, converse, a white tank top, and a red jacket. He didn’t even look at Shawna, his eyes finding Len instantly.
Many of the patrons straightened up as Barry made a bee-line for their boss. Barry didn’t seem to notice or care, sliding across from Len in the booth. And since Len didn’t do or say anything about the threat, the patrons just waited in silence. Only Lisa and Mick, who were playing a game of cards at the bar, spoke to each other in hushed tones.
Barry then stole one of Len’s fries casually. Len wasn’t even upset. Every time they met, Barry seemed to find a reason to drink or eat. Len assumed it had to be a personality quirk, or a meta thing. All metahumans had their unusual habits, so Len wasn’t going to judge why Barry was a food thief.
Len just raised a single unimpressed eyebrow. He drawled out, “And how may I help you today, Barry?”
He thought by saying Barry’s name so loudly it would deter the young man. Instead, the brunet perked up, as if remembering that he was in the room. He stole another fry, ate it in two bites, then showed a desperately fake grin.
“I’m being stalked.”
Oh. That… That wasn’t expected. Len now noticed the way that Barry’s shoulders were tight and anxious. For a man who could move faster than a bullet, Barry looked tired. His eyes had purple baggage and he was paler than normal. Almost skinnier too, like he didn’t have enough effort to eat anything sustainable.
Len’s mouth was dry. He licked his lips, a feeling of dread in his gut. Sure, he stalked Barry once he discovered his identity, but that was for reconnaissance. He needed to know if the Flash was as pure-hearted as he appeared to be, as well as figure out his weak points for further bargaining.
“And you came to me because…?” Len tried to say the question with neutrality but he knew he failed.
“It’s a meta.” Barry tapped his fingers against the table. “He’s a speedster. And faster than the Flash.”
Len felt the bar shift in mood. Nobody around here liked the Flash, but they also didn’t hate him. In the end, they knew that the Flash did a lot for Central City. None of them were going to figure out the strange goings-on or protect them from the military men that snooped around every once in a while.
Apparently, the Flash’s prison wasn’t too bad either. Just lonely and isolated, even with the occasional visit from STAR Labs workers. Kyle Nimbus was still there, Len knew. It was the one prisoner that Barry didn’t let out. Nimbus was supposed to be executed for his crimes, and Barry wasn’t willing to chance rehabilitation on a man like that. Everyone else though? They were released.
“Faster than the Flash, you say.” Len would deny that his heart rate sped up at the thought. “How dangerous is he?”
“Very.” Barry stole Len’s beer. He took a sip of it, as if needing liquid courage. “Do you remember Farooq, he’s a meta? Cisco called him Blackout.”
“Blackout?” The name did nothing for Len.
“To live, Farooq had to siphon energy from power sources. Usually, it was electricity. One time, he stole the Flash’s speed for a couple of days.”
“Now that’s interesting.”
Len was curious about it. If he got Farooq to be part of the Rogues, would Barry be forced to take a couple of days off every once in a while? Every single day and night, the Flash was on duty. It was frustratedly noble. It made bile form in Len’s throat.
“Yeah, well, you’re too late. The other speedster killed Farooq.” Barry’s hand shook around the beer bottle. “And you hold the only other thing that is known to harm speedsters.”
Len pulled the cold gun out from his side. He was wondering where this was leading to. The gun was set on the table. It was a masterful weapon. It only needed maintenance, and Len gladly did it. Not only did the Flash struggle to deal with Len, but other crime families and organizations were fearful of him now.
Len traced the gun with his finger. “You want this?”
Barry rolled his eyes and huffed. He leaned back in his chair, his body calming down. “As if. That thing was specifically built to stop the Flash if he ended up turning bad, you know. Cisco built it and didn’t tell anyone about it until after it was stolen.”
Again, there was another interesting piece of knowledge to learn. Len had wondered why a charming young man like Cisco would build a contraption like the cold gun. Len hummed gently as he remembered Cisco’s fearful face. He did good work. It truly was too bad that he was a do-gooder. All of STAR Labs had too many doe-eyed, innocent, and naive personnel.
“No, what I need your help with is…” Barry bit his lip. There was a quick drop of blood that spread over Barry’s teeth before the wound healed.
“Come on, Barry, we’re friends.” Len laid it on thick, trying to get the kid to relax. They’d get nowhere if Barry was too tense to state why he was here. The information was nice and all, but Len had a title and appearances to uphold.
“I need you to kill him.”
The words caused a shiver to go down Len’s spine. He couldn’t help but widen his eyes at Barry’s statement. He felt the air vibrate around him, as if it was charged with energy. Mick looked up from the bar, finally interested in why a bright-eyed kid would walk into Saints and Sinners. Lisa only glimpsed their way to show concern.
Len should be happy about this. Barry Allen was asking him to kill someone. It should make him ecstatic, thinking of all of the favors he could have. Yet, he only felt ice in his veins. If someone like Barry Allen was considering murder, just how awful was this rivaling speedster?
“Scarlet—” The nickname slipped out from his mouth against his better judgment. “—you’re sleep deprived. Take a nap. Once you’re rested, you’ll realize how insane you sound. You wouldn’t ever kill a person or get a person killed on purpose.”
Barry chuckled softly. It sounded cracked and broken. He met Len’s eyes and said, “I would sleep if I could. It’s sort of hard to do after learning that there are cameras in every room of my house and my workplace. It’s kind of hard to sleep peacefully when the person who murdered my mom had 14 years of footage of me growing up. It’s not exactly something I can do knowing that he can vibrate his hand, plunge it into my chest, and rip out my heart before I even realize what’s happening.”
“Barry…” Len was at a loss for words.
Len did recon. Len knew all about Barry’s childhood. He knew that he witnessed his mother’s death but wasn’t seen as an actual witness due to mental health reasons. Barry had seen multiple therapists over the years, being assigned medication after medication. Len knew that Barry eventually lied about what he saw to counselors and kept the information to himself just to make his family stop calling him crazy.
“I’ll go on jobs, if you want,” offered Barry. “Or owe you favors. I don’t know what you would need to help me, but I’ll try to give it to you. I need him gone.”
Len exhaled shakily. He tried to make it sound like a cough or a huff. It didn’t work. He was too nervous. He knew that Barry wasn’t a killer. But this other speedster? This unknown variable had killed people before and wasn’t afraid to use his powers to do so. Yet…
“I’ll take the job,” he said flippantly. Len threw his shoulders back to look at ease. “Who am I supposed to kill?”
Barry gulped down a breath, then said, “Harrison Wells.”
Len ignored Hartley’s justified yell of, “I fucking knew it!”
Len met Barry’s hazel eyes. There was a seriousness in Barry’s gaze that made Len know that no lies were spoken. Harrison Wells, the man who built the particle accelerator and was currently in a wheelchair after the explosion, was a speedster who was faster than the Flash.
“Well, uh,” amended Barry, “his name’s Eobard Thawne, apparently. He killed the real Wells 14 years ago and assumed his identity. He then built the particle accelerator with the knowledge that when it was turned on during a storm, it would create a flux of metahumans.”
Len soaked in that information, then pointed out, “You were struck by lightning.”
Barry nodded his head. “I was in a coma for 9 months after the explosion.” His fingers tapped against the glass bottle. “7 of those months were spent under his care.”
There was a dead look in Barry’s eyes. Hope had died. Loyalty and fondness for a mentor, perhaps, had recoiled and dwindled. There was despair and pain in Barry’s irises. There was also anger, but not enough to fuel a rage attack.
“Eobard Thawne,” echoed Len. “Any relation to that blond your sister is engaged to?”
Len recognized the last name instantly. Thawne was a family mainly in Keystone. They were well off. Len had robbed them before. Lisa probably still had one of the bracelets that they nabbed a decade ago. Edward Thawne choosing to go into law enforcement was strange, but it just showed that he was different from his relatives.
“They’re distantly related,” confirmed Barry. “Eddie’s been freaking out over it, actually. He keeps sending me long text messages full of apologies and buying me coffee. Iris isn’t much better, though. She gave me a free cronut before I came here.”
“Barry, you look like shit. Of course, she gave you a free croissant donut.”
Len needed a drink, something stronger than ever before. But shit. He needed to be sober in case a speedster decided to drop in out of nowhere.
“Do I really…?” Barry trailed off, his cheeks blushing in shame.
Len just nodded a bit numbly. “Like death warmed over. I don’t know how you’ve been allowed to work when you look like a breeze could blow you over.”
Barry nervously admitted, “... My boss sent me home early today. I just thought he was upset at me for being late to work.”
“You’re late to work four out of five days of the week,” scoffed Len. “It would take more to make your boss upset with you.”
“How did you…” Barry shook his head. “Never mind.” He stole another fry from Len’s plate. The food was well past warm. “So you’ll do it?”
Len looked at Barry, who was barely holding himself together. Len wasn’t sure what Barry would do if Len refused him. STAR Labs was clearly compromised, the CCPD couldn’t go against a speedster, and any other allies were likely busy with their own problems or Barry didn’t want to place them in the crossfire.
“I said I would.” Len didn’t acknowledge the relief that went through Barry’s body.
“Okay, good.” Barry ate more, a small smile finally showing up on his face. “I suppose I should tell you what his abilities are. His known abilities, at least. He’s been a speedster for over two decades, so I’m sure he can do more than he’s shown.”
“Enlighten me.” Len put his cold gun away.
No one in the bar was bothering to not know who Barry Allen was. It was clear that the Flash had been a victim just like the other metahumans that had gathered to be part of the Rogues. Even Mark Mardon was sending pitying glances to Barry, and that guy didn’t give a shit about anyone.
“Well, Mach 2 is about the speed the Flash can go, so Eobard is faster than that.” Barry shrugged as Len tried to think about how fast that was. “Speedsters can also phase through things.”
To demonstrate, Barry vibrated his hand. Len watched in avid fascination as Barry slid his fingers through the glass bottle as if it wasn’t there. He stopped vibrating and picked up the bottle to gulp the remains of it.
“Phasing works on nearly everything known,” added Barry, “including organic matter. A favorite of Eobard’s is to phase his hand into a person’s chest and mess up their organs.”
Len couldn’t imagine Barry pulling something like that. He couldn’t imagine Barry killing him, goading him on as Barry threatened to squeeze his heart. It just wasn’t possible. But the Harrison Wells wannabe? Len knew for a fact that something was shifty with STAR Labs. He supposed that he ended up being right.
“Oh, and Cisco’s been getting some vibes—”
“Vibes,” drawled out Len, unimpressed.
“Oh, well, after I time traveled, Cisco started to manifest powers—”
“Time travel?”
Barry blinked, then said, “Right. Speedsters can time travel too. I did it by accident. Eobard can control what he does, so heads up there, I guess.”
“Barry—!”
“Anyway,” interrupted Barry, voice more firm, “I time traveled by accident, reversing a day after a tsunami was coming toward Central. Cisco started having these flashes, which he calls vibes, of being murdered by Wells.”
Hartley’s poorly concealed murmur was heard throughout the bar. “Fucking hell, Cisquito.”
“So, it turns out that Cisco’s also a meta. And he can feel vibrations from, like, other timelines or worlds. We’re not really sure what it all involves. He once used his powers on Caitlin’s car keys and saw her and Ronnie on a drive-up movie theater date.” Barry shook his head. “But anyways, in that alternate timeline, Eobard kills Cisco because he figured out his identity.”
“I believe that both Cisco and Caitlin are currently alive.”
“Yes,” confirmed Barry, his nod a bit more hesitant. "Gideon helped me make sure of that."
Flatly, Len said, “You don’t want them involved in this, do you?”
Barry bit his lip, looking down at the table like it betrayed him. When he glanced back up, Barry said, “Cisco already died in an alternate timeline and Caitlin just reunited with her fiance who was presumed dead after the accelerator.”
“And the CCPD is ruefully unprepared for any serious meta attacks,” surmised Len. “So you went to the Rogues for help.”
Barry scoffed, sounding amused. “I considered calling up a friend from Starling, but they’re dealing with shit over there, and Eobard wasn’t a fan of them in the first place. Said the Arrow was a bit too ruthless and murderous, so he wasn’t a good person to get advice from.”
“I was your last choice?” Len held his chest. “I’m hurt by that, Barry.”
Barry huffed and his eyes gleamed with fondness and laughter. “Sure, Snart.”
Len found it hard to hate the man called Barry Allen. He was too fun to talk to and play with. He was too kind and wore his heart on his sleeves. He had stronger morals than anyone else. Warmth spread in Len’s chest, no matter how hard he tried to bury those feelings. A laugh began to ripple from his throat but then—
There was a flash of lightning. But no, there were two of them.
Barry had reached across the table, slamming Len toward the window as Eobard Thawne entered the room in a yellow suit. It was the reverse of the Flash’s uniform. Cisco probably came up with a dumb code name for it. Len was breathless though, his heart pounding against his ribs. One second he was laughing and the next Barry had stopped him from being murdered.
“Barry, Barry, Barry,” said Eobard, practically lecturing him, “how many times do I have to tell you that I know the future? I know who you marry and how many kids you’ll have. I know all of your enemies and I know all of your fears.”
He smirked above Barry’s shoulder, locking his gaze with Len’s. “I know that you’ll continue to tell the Rogues that the life of crime isn’t all that they should amount to, just like I know that some of them will listen while most will grow fond of quarreling with you during their criminal behaviors.”
Saints and Sinners acted at once. Mick and Lisa powered on their guns as others took out their own weapons or prepared to use their metahuman abilities. But no one could act yet. Len powered up his cold gun, setting it up at Eobard Thawne’s direction.
“Why are you here, Eobard?” demanded Barry, seemingly resigned despite the electricity coursing through his eyes.
“You’re the one who brought in outside help, Barry,” Eobard admonished. “I need to re-level the playing field.”
They turned into a stream of light. Len couldn’t take his eyes away from the lightning streaks. Yellow and red mixed together. Rubber smoke filled his nose. Wind swept through the entire bar. Chairs and tables had collapsed and people had been forcibly moved. All in the span of a couple of seconds, an entire battle had occurred.
The battle ended with Barry and Eobard standing in the middle of Saints and Sinners. Len walked forward, only to be greeted with a better angle of the situation. He didn’t like what he saw.
Eobard’s vibrating hand was in Barry’s chest. Barry looked down at it with a fearful expression, his mouth unable to form words. He was frozen in place as the low hum of Eobard’s hand filled the silent room. It was an out of body experience to not be able to see Eobard’s hand while knowing that it was inside of Barry’s chest.
Eobard said, almost mockingly, “So what should I rip out? A lung? You’re low on reserves so you may not even be able to heal from that.”
“I thought you’d go for the heart,” quipped Barry, his eyes blazing with lightning as he stared up at Harrison Wells' face.
“That would be quite poetic,” agreed Eobard. Inside of Barry’s chest, his hand shifted. “Should I tear it out or should I grab a knife and reenact what I did to your mother?”
There was a twist, then. Barry vibrated in place, phasing through Eobard’s hand. He stepped back, turning into a blur, and not a moment later Eobard was on his tail. Lightning ran through the room but there were loud crashes. Shawna had to teleport across the room to dodge falling alcohol bottles.
The speedsters came to a standstill with Barry’s back pressed against the bar and Eobard gliding one of the kitchen knives from the back through Barry’s chest. Len would deny the way that he made a pained noise as the knife point twisted and Barry grunted through a whine. Blood began to spread across Barry’s white top.
Eobard pushed the knife further into Barry’s chest, bypassing his ribs. Len expected to hear Barry beg for his life or try to convince Eobard that he was a good person. Instead, he saw what Barry looked like when he had leverage.
“Oh, Eo, you don’t have the guts to kill me.” Barry’s tone was like nothing Len had heard before.
The world paused for a single moment.
And then Eobard leaped away from Barry. The knife clattered to the ground and Barry stood up, not even flinching from the pain of his stab wound. He smiled at Eobard and it looked cruel, but Len knew Barry very well. It was a bluff. Len wasn’t sure what Barry was bluffing, yet it worked.
Eobard’s eyes were wide in shock. If Len wasn’t mistaken, there was also fear in his gaze.
“Mister Allen,” Eobard choked out, like he had seen a ghost.
Len took his chance. He lifted his hand in the air and that was all that the Rogues needed to know that they could attack.
Eobard was still frozen in shock as Mark’s fog descended in the air, creating a cool temperature in the bar. Lisa and Mick didn’t fire their guns. Precision was key with their deadly weapons and they wouldn’t risk hitting one of their own. Shawna appeared at Len’s side, then touched his arm as they dematerialized then rematerialized closer to the chaos.
Lightning sparked in the room. Len knew what Barry looked like when he ran fast, so Len focused on the red lightning streaks. The man in yellow, Eobard Thawne, was fast but he also moved differently from Barry. Eobard moved with precision, and Len could use that precision against the speedster.
Barry took caution to make sure that no one else was harmed. Len already knew what. Eobard knew that too. Eobard used Barry’s good heart against him, likely trying to harm the others in the bar to slow Barry down. But Len had done that before and it only made Barry strive to run faster.
Len had to time it right. The yellow blur of red lightning was ahead, leaving Barry behind just a step or two. Len’s finger pressed against the trigger to the cold gun. The speedsters were already slightly slowed down from the cold temperature. Len exhaled, able to see his breath. Frost crept along the floor and glass. Mark furrowed his brow in concentration.
Eobard was frozen into place from Len’s cold gun. Eobard growled loudly and tried to vibrate his body to break the ice on his legs and feet. Barry came to a stop but left a small radius around the ice.
“Get back, Scarlet,” called out Len, walking toward the man in yellow.
Barry tilted his head, then did as said. He stood amongst the Rogues. Lisa and Mick held up their guns with their fingers on the triggers if necessary. It was definitely strange to see Barry, who had blood on his shirt and a smile on his face, stand with a pack of criminals.
“Fuck you,” spat out Eobard. Rage shook his shoulders. “You’re all destined to amount to nothing except petty criminals. The Justice League won’t even see you as a threat. You’re just bugs to them, not even worth their time.”
The Justice League, huh. It definitely sounded like a hero group, perhaps even something Central City’s very own Flash would join.
Len shot his gun once more. “Eh, that’s alright. I can’t stand other heroes.”
Only the Flash was manageable. He had a good heart and strong morals. He wouldn’t ever injure them seriously and he wouldn’t turn into a warped villain of some kind unless there was outside interference harming his mind. Barry Allen was better than all of them, and Len hated how easy it was to like the kid.
Eobard Thawne cursed at Len the entire time the absolute zero hit him. Ice surrounded Eobard and the little skin that showed turned black. His voice died down and the suit he wore wasn’t able to protect him from such a close blast centered on him.
It was going to be a pain to bury the body but, well, Len only had to glance over to Barry and not feel too upset about that. Barry looked relieved despite the murder that had occurred. Shawna patted him on the shoulder, looking awkward but trying her best to comfort him.
Hartley was the first to speak. He grinned giddily and announced, “First round’s on me!”
The frost receded in the room as Mark grinned at the idea. Cheers went out around the room as if all of their lives hadn’t been in the balance. Lisa pocketed her gun and sent a small look Len’s way. He smiled knowingly back, acting like he never thought that death was amongst them.
With an ice sculpture in the middle of Saints and Sinners, the Rogues partied through the rest of the evening. Mick looked at it with fascination, probably waiting for the order to melt the ice and burn the body in it.
And as Len cracked open a beer, he saw Barry slip into the seat across from him. Barry didn’t look any healthier, but he was so much less tense. He was smiling as well, drinking something mixed out of a straw.
“So… about our deal.” Barry hid his expression behind the glass. “What do you want?”
Len honestly didn’t want to hold that much over Barry. Barry could have killed Eobard, he was fairly sure, but he didn’t have the heart to do it himself. Instead he made someone else become a murderer in his place.
Len let his bottle click against Barry’s glass. He said, “I’ll call you whenever I need a favor.” Len smirked after, meeting Barry’s green gaze. “You’re an honorary Rogue now.”
Barry tilted his head, looking like a lost puppy. And then he grinned, bright and brilliant, full of innocence and happiness. If he had a tail, it would wag and his ears would be twitching with excitement. Len could only huff out a small laugh before Barry disappeared with a whirl, leaving an empty glass as the only sign that he had been there.