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Len woke up to hazy vision, a pounding head, and gunshots—wait, no, stilettoes ow ow ow—strapped to a table, mouth duct-taped shut, and the neck brace from hell choking him.“You’re awake!” joyful stylings pierced Len’s already tortured ears. “Hooray!”Tension tightened the air within Len when Jessica Keith, new Amunet according to Mick and anyone else from Team Cold who deigned to adopt the moniker, came into view. A human trafficker before the particle accelerator exploded, she expanded her business to include lucrative metahuman operations, most notably having once been one of Amunet’s top suppliers.Her eyes, though a dull green, were sharp with enough intelligence to put together that there couldn’t possibly be two middle-aged men of similar builds with cryonic abilities and predilections towards do-gooding.More importantly, he was scared. Not the usual, part of his uniform fear of losing a civilian or the bad guy getting away, but that tight terror that he thought had vanished when Lewis died: the best thing about the explosion in his and Lisa’s books.
What if she captures Lisa next!?
She tapped a button on her phone, “You, my hunky snowflake, are going to make me a lotta moolah! There are soooooo many people waiting to meetcha! C’mon!”His breathing quickened when the table hovered and followed her into an auditorium of elites and their thugs. He couldn’t move his head to see them all, but the room was hot with so many of them. A screen lit up above and beside him, then his eyes flickered upward; it was a feed giving the crowd a bird’s eye view of him. He looked aside, trying to hide his fear. Humiliation burned him when some people began flinging jeers his way.“We have a super healthy cryo right here! Good for air conditioning, icing minions, or testing your personal vengeance schemes against Citizen Cold on!” Keith started the bidding at half a million, but it soon soared to 34 million thanks to a feuding trio.A man eventually barked, “One. Billion.”Len startled, flicking his eyes towards the now silent crowd.“Billion? With a B???” her eyes lit up lusting after such a sale. Len flinched when she brought a gavel down by his head. “SOLLLD!!! To the man in yellow!”Len’s eyes went wide open. That phrase was a warning, and his trappings wouldn’t let him heed it. His heart threatened to tear itself out of his chest.All Keith received was a hand through her heart and an auditorium of corpses.“Calm down, Snart,” his liberator said once he sped him to the roof of CCPD. He rubbed his back when Len couldn’t stop shaking. “Breathe.”Tears dampened Len’s eyes. He abhorred such people, yet he whispered a plea, “You didn’t have to kill them...”“Some people need to die, Snart: Wade Eiling, Eobard Thawne, Lewis Snart...”“What???” Len’s gaze snapped to his.“He hurt you,” his eyes stopped glowing red, “so I hurt him.”“No...”“It’s what he deserves.”“And who are you to decide that, Barrence!? What historian’s writing about Lewis Snart: corrupt cop, abusive husband and father!?!”“The ones who wrote about you,” Barrence said it with awe before adding a harsh addendum. “So please, tell me that the man who terrorized your mother, Lisa’s mother, and both of you doesn’t deserve his own personal hell.”Len stammered, unable to come up with anything yet trying oh, so hard to on principle. He was fine thinking Lewis’s death was the least tragic accident of the explosion. Why couldn’t Barrence let him keep believing that???Barrence asked Gideon to pull up his favorite biography. A hologram of a cover featuring Len’s face with fuzz on his chin and significantly saltier hair shimmered from his watch. Barrence swiped the digital book, opening to the inside cover.“Mind signing?” Barrence grinned expectantly.Len’s gaze flickered from the tech to back to him, “Why do you keep a history book after you’ve changed history?”Barrence smiled, “There are multiple versions of countless stories, but some versions stand above the rest.”“And he’s your favorite version of me?”“So far, but this one’s quickly giving him a run for his money.”“Barrence, please!” Len squirmed. “I like my life just as it is—I wouldn’t change a thing! Please don’t... Please leave this timeline intact.”“...Very well, Leonard,” he hummed.“I prefer Len. Didn’t your history books tell you that?”“Some versions of you have preferred Leo, Leon, Leonardo—”“Leonardo? What was that version on???”Barrence shrugged. After a pause, he added, “If I’m to call you Len, then will you call me Barry?”“Sure, Barry,” he reached out to shake his hand then aborted the gesture when Barry zipped away.Barry returned to his mountainside mansion: his sanctuary from the chaotic, noisy, and touch-happy simpletons of Central. He hummed as he filled up a cup with unfiltered tap water that would have an iron aftertaste. Disgusting.His boots would protect him from the basement’s rough stone flooring. His gloves would protect him from the unfinished, chalky texture of the walls and the scraping feeling of the stairway railing. He would renovate the basement eventually, but for now, it was easier to clean blood this way.His now gaunt prisoner didn’t stir at his approach. Chains gnawed at his wrists and ankles, trapping his arms above him, stretching them if he didn’t sit up straight.Barry savored his agony for a moment before splashing the water in the man’s face. He shivered, wincing when his arms began aching even more in response.“Good evening, sir,” Barry smiled; the last word a mockery rather than a formality. He flashed back to the sink for more water, letting him drink it this time.“Why’re ya,” he panted, “keepin’ me alive??? Just fucking kill me already!”“You tortured Len for eighteen years,” Barry said as he set up enough wires on him to make Lewis look like a broken android. “We’re only in year five...”Barry put on noise canceling headphones and settled in a leather armchair to reread his favorite history books and biographies. He smirked when he looked up and saw Lewis writhing with electricity feeding into his nerves. Those versions of Lewis Snart would agree that their demises were a mercy.