Work Text
~~~~~
POV Barry
~~~~~
2 hours and 17 minutes. That’s how long he’s been running. 2 hours and 17 minutes since he got the text message from Cisco with the location of where to meet Leonard Snart. 2 hours and 17 minutes since he suited up and took off without a second thought as to why the other man would pick such a desolate location to meet.
It’s been about ten minutes of normal time since he’s seen any signs of civilization. All he has to follow are logging roads at this point. Cisco is still giving him directions every now and then. A chirp in his coms letting him know he needs to slow down enough to hear what the man is saying at a normal speed.
The coms are getting more static the further north he goes, Cisco insisting it’s just the weather affecting the satellite signal, even though the sky is mostly clear, and that it should clear up soon.
He’s just shy of Len’s location when he slows considerably, seeing the amazing swirling colors of the aurora borealis filling the entire night’s sky overhead. He knew seeing it was a possibility. This is the Arctic Circle, after all. Great Bear Lake to be exact. So far into northern Canada that Barry was a little surprised that Len would ask to meet here of all places.
A moment later a shockwave of sorts hits, causing him to trip, and he goes flying through the air as the speed force dissipates around him. He lands hard, rolling until his back slams into the trunk of a massive pine tree.
Before he loses consciousness, the aurora overhead is the last thing he sees. Whirls of green mixing with swaths of purple shimmering and dancing across the glittering blackness of the night sky.
~~~~~
POV Len
~~~~~
The power cuts out 2.47 seconds before Len hears something akin to a sonic boom not far from his cabin.
His first thought, being this far north and hours away from the nearest settlement, is that a meteor has fallen and his generator must have blown from the shockwave; which rattled the cabin walls seconds ago The fireplace is lit, the only way to keep the wooden structure warm, and it gives him all the light he needs to see by as he draws his cold gun and goes for the flashlight that rests on the small shelf by the door.
He clicks it on, but nothing happens. Setting the cold gun aside a moment he tries the button a few more times, takes out the batteries, tries the spares in the desk drawer then checked to see if the bulb is blown. The bulb is fine and none of the batteries work, but he just bought them not even a week ago.
There’s an old oil lamp hanging from the ceiling by the couch, and he lights it quickly before picking up his cold gun again and making his way over to the front door. Barry should be there any minute now if he’s calculated the speedsters movements correctly. He could wait for him to arrive before investigating, but where’s the fun in that? He’ll check the generator first, then take a look around once he knows what the problem is.
It’s once he’s outside, lamp in one hand and cold gun in the other, that he realizes something is most definitely wrong here. The cold gun won’t power up. Not even a whir of an attempt to do so. He sets down the lantern, ignoring the cold bite of the wind that’s coming across the lake and hitting his face as he takes out the guns power cell quickly, checking for a loose connection or any other reason it wouldn’t be working.
When he finds none, he starts to worry. He holsters the currently useless weapon and makes his way over to where the generator is housed. Looking it over quickly, he finds no reason for it to be dead. The wiring is fine, fuel tank still half full, and the little shack beside the cabin the generator is kept in appears to be fine as well.
There is no logical reason for all of these things to not be working.
A wolf howls in the distance and Len’s hand twitches toward his cold gun, only forgetting its currently unusable status a moment before reaching for the .45 he keeps on a shoulder holster under his parka. He’s had to shoot one wolf already since arriving at the cabin a few days ago, and he isn’t surprised that its friends apparently didn’t get the memo to stay away.
Another distant howl draws Len out of the shed to look around the clearing at the edge of the lake which his cabin is located in. The brilliant aurora he’d seen only minutes before has faded out and left only the light of the full moon and the stars above to illuminate the area. It’s almost bright enough for him to leave the lantern behind, but he knows better, and he carries it in one hand with the other holding his gun at the ready.
It’s a bit hard to see once he reaches the tree line, a flashlight would have been ideal for a quick scan of the area, but the lamp still provides enough light to show him that one tree nearby has no snow on its branches.
A very odd sight, given that it only stopped snowing maybe an hour ago.
He takes slow cautious steps towards it, listening for the sounds of wolves in the distance. He hears another bay, long and low, but it’s far enough away that he knows they aren’t close yet. The light of the lantern shines off something red at the base of the snowless trees, and he pauses a moment in shock.
The sight of Barry, lying crumpled at the base of the large pine and half buried in snow, is the last thing he expected to find. It’s startling enough that he hesitates to run to him for a moment. Another howl snaps him out of his stunned state and has him running through the foot of snow to his fallen friend.
The angle the speedster is laying at makes it look he like must have rolled, his back connecting with the tree first, as his lower body is curved back and around in a way that's reminiscent of a ragdoll that’s been thrown aside. Holding the lantern closer there is definitely damaged wood at the base of the tree. Bark and large splinters sticking out around a clear dent in the otherwise weather hardened wood. His body is covered in snow from knee to cheek, only his head and a single arm sticking out one side of the heap while his shins and feet are free at the other end.
Len digs Barry’s prone from out from under the mound of snow quickly, cursing as he does so. He can feel the chill setting into the younger man’s body, he hasn’t been there long enough to grow truly cold yet, but he is beginning to shiver.
It’s cold out, about 7 degrees last time he looked at the thermometer, but he doesn’t even think to hesitate as he removes his parka and wraps it around the unconscious man’s shoulders. Once he has Barry bundled up, he hoists him up and turns to get him back to the safety and warmth of the cabin.
Once they’re inside and Barry is laid out on the couch it only takes Len a minute to figure out how to remove the Flash suit, and he does his best to only let his eyes wander and linger long enough to take in the injuries Barry’s managed to sustain.
His back is bruised, head appearing to be fine, but there is a slight bump from where he must have hit it. His pupils look normal and react accordingly when Len checks them in the lamplight; so, he appears not to have a concussion. His right ankle is a bit swollen, and there is a bruise blooming there a well. Other than that, it’s just a few other minor bruises from rolling across the frozen hard ground. Len even presses an ear to Barry’s chest to listen to his breathing just to be safe. Everything sounds fine, and from the way he breathes, it’s probably a safe bet no ribs were broken or cracked.
Len wraps Barry in his parka once more now that he’s sure the speedster isn’t in any danger from his injuries, and piles the extra blankets from the other rooms of the cabin on the shivering man before digging out the first aid kit from under the bathroom sink. The ankle isn’t broken, and will likely heal within a few hours given what he knows about Barry’s speed healing. But just to make things more comfortable Len still takes an ace bandage and wraps and elevates it.
It’s hours later when Len is about to doze off in the armchair oppose the couch Barry currently occupies, that the speedster lets out a whimper and shifts under the blankets.
~~~~~
POV Barry
~~~~~
Everything hurts. Everything hurts and it’s hot. Too hot. He shifts a little, a whimper escaping his lips as he feels a sharp pain in his back that radiates out to make his entire body throb and ache. It’s almost as bad as the throb from his ankle, which feels like it’s on fire. His headache is minor compared to the other pains he feels.
He shifts again, realizing he’s not in his own bed, or on a medical bed at the lab.
He blinks open confused green eyes to take in a room that’s lit by the flames of a crackling fire. The walls are wood, taking on that gray tone that comes with age and lack of treatment or staining. He’s under a pile of blankets. At least four of them. And he feels like he’s just in his briefs and some kind of jacket? Its fabric is smooth and warm against his skin.
“You alright over there, Scarlet?” A smooth, if not a bit tired voice asks to his left.
Turning his head with a wince, as it causes a throb to start up where it had just been a dull ache before, he sees Len sitting in a plush looking dark gray armchair. There’s a blanket around his shoulders and a tired look in his eyes as he smiles at the speedster.
“What happened? How long have I been out?” Barry asks before bracing himself and pushing up into a sitting position. It hurts. Sends the ache he feels all over from a four to a seven for a moment. He grits his teeth and closes his eyes tight until it fades to something bearable. When it passes, he opens his eyes once again and focuses on the other man in the room.
Len looks concerned, clearly not missing Barry’s reaction to moving just now. “Was hoping you could tell me the ‘what’ of the situation. The power went out and a moment later I heard something like an explosion. Found you not long after that. You were unconscious beside a tree. Based on your injuries I would assume you must have crashed into it pretty hard.” His eyes scan over Barry as he pauses and thinks on his next words a moment.
“As for your second question, you’ve been unconscious for a little over two hours. It’s close to one in the morning,” Len explained, gaze locking with Barry’s as he waits for a response.
Hearing Len recount how he found him, Barry’s eyes grow wide as the memory of what caused him to lose control returns. “I slowed down when the coms went off to let me know I was close to your location. The last thing I remember is looking up at the Aurora and suddenly being hit by some kind of energy. It made me trip, and I went out of control from there. I hit the ground hard and rolled until I hit something and blacked out.”
Len nodded, taking in the information. He was about to say something when Barry cut him off.
“Are you sure it’s been two hours? I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. How bad was I hurt?” He asked as he looked down at himself, finally realizing the soft, smooth material he was wrapped in was that of Len’s infamous parka. He looked back to Len a moment later, confusion clear on his face.
Blinking at the question, Len pushed the blanket from his shoulders and moved to stand. “You know me, Scarlet. I never lose track of time. And you weren’t hurt that bad. Moderate bruising and a sprained ankle,” he said before kneeling beside the couch and starting to pull the blankets one by one from atop the other man's body.
“The worst bruising I’ve had so far has only taken about five or six hours to heal completely...” Barry muttered as he takes in the sight of dark, angry bruises speckling his legs. A particularly gnarly one peeks out from under the edge of the ace bandage wrapped around his right foot and ankle.
“Then I take it this isn’t normal?” Len asks before reaching out to unwrap the ace bandage.
Barry winces in pain even though Len’s hands are gentle as one holds his leg up while the other removes the bandage carefully. The ankle is still swollen, a bit more so now than it was earlier, and the red skin has taken on the dark purple hue of a deep bruise all the way around.
“No... I probably just need to eat something.” Len gives him a doubtful, if not slightly curious, look at those words.
Concerned, Barry looks over to where his Flash suit is resting folded on a wooden table with two matching chairs by the armchair Len had been sitting in before. “Did you contact Cisco and Caitlin? Tell them what’s going on?”
Len shakes his head. “Whatever knocked out the generator and took you out of commission seems to have knocked out everything electrical in the area. I can’t even power up my gun.” He wraps Barry’s ankle once more with nimble fingers before letting himself take in the other visible damage.
“Like an EMP?” Barry asks, face scrunched in confusion. Why would an EMP go off up there? There‘s nothing around for hundreds of miles. “I should be able to fix the coms if you have the right tools on hand.”
Len shakes his head at that. “It wasn’t an EMP. The wiring and circuitry are all perfectly fine. I’ve checked everything. Your suit, my cold gun, the generator for this cabin? There’s no reason I can find for them to not be working.”
Barry notices Len’s wandering eyes as he speaks, and he clears his throat to draw the man’s gaze up to meet his. He can feel his cheeks heat a little at the attention and now really isn’t the time for this nonsense. “Alright... I need to eat something. I used a lot of energy running here, that must be why m speed healing hasn’t kicked in yet. Once I eat something and have had a few hours to heal I’ll be good to run us out of here and we can have Cisco take a look at the cold gun and my suit. I’m sure he’ll be able to figure out what happened.” He reasons as he looks around the room. It's clear the cabin is big, enough so that it likely has a decent kitchen. And knowing Len he wouldn’t have come up here without enough supplies to last a while.
Nodding, Len stood up and let his gaze linger on Barry a moment longer, sitting there looking a bit lost and kind of adorable in his parka, before turning to grab and re-light the lantern so he can see once he’s in the kitchen. “Lucky for you this place has a wood stove and I stocked up on supplies before coming here.”
“Should I be worried you’re going to poison me?” Barry asks, tone a bit teasing as he shifts on the couch so that he’s laying down once again, though now he’s turned onto his left side and he’s pulled one of the blankets back up from the floor to cover his bare legs. It’s a little strange, being stuck in a cabin with his enemy-turned-friend and sometimes ally in just his underwear and the man’s parka.
“Now, now. Be nice, Barry, or I’ll make you canned soup instead of taking the time to prepare you a real meal.” Len threatens with no bite, amusement clear in his voice. The sounds of a few cupboards opening, creaking metal hinges, and something like a match striking follows a moment later.
“I take it back. Please, take pity on me in my currently weakened crippled state. I swear I’ll never speak ill of your cooking again.” Barry couldn’t keep the mirth from his voice as he mock pleads with Len.
“That’s more like it,” Len says with a snort of amusement that could easily be heard from the other room.
“Hey, you never did say why you wanted me to meet you all the way out here,” Barry called out after listening to the man putter around the kitchen for a while.
“Snowmobile died and I needed a ride back to civilization, preferably all the way back to Central if you would be so inclined.”
Blinking in disbelief, Barry turns his head to look in the direction of the kitchen. He can see Len standing at the stove, his back to Barry as he stirs something in a sizzling pan. “Seriously?”
Len looks back and meet’s the incredulous look Barry gives him with a smirk and a shrug. “I asked the Legends first if it’s any consolation.”
“Not really...” Barry sighs, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Why didn’t they come to get you then?”
“Mick’s mad at me for laughing at a chapter of his book, which was apparently supposed to be a very serious one. He told the others if they came to get me he’d make sure the time drive ends up in a black hole and Gideon only lets them eat oatmeal for the next month.”
“Mick wrote a book?” Barry winces at how high his own voice goes in his surprise, but the idea of Mick Rory, Heatwave, the man who looks like he’d sooner use a book as kindling than actually read it, writing a book is just downright ridiculous.
“Is
writing
a book,” Len corrects. ” It’s not quite finished. He sent me a copy of the current draft to proofread,” He further elaborates as he turns back to whatever he’s cooking with a dramatic wave of his spatula. “I apparently didn’t have the desired reaction.”
“I never would have pictured Mick writing... Well... Anything, really. What’s it about?” Barry asked, both curious and trying to distract himself for the way his body aches and his stomach growls as the smell of frying potatoes and meat fills the air.
“Alien fantasy romance novel.”
“No way!” Barry exclaims before cursing under his breath at how his head throbs painfully from turning it quickly to look over at the other man again.
“It’s in the other room if you want to take a look later. Mick’s already mad at me, I’m sure letting you read it won’t make things between us any worse.” Len offers in his usual drawl before going to move around the kitchen and out of Barry’s line of sight.
“Maybe.” He lets his eyes slip closed after that as he listens to the sounds of Len moving around the kitchen. He’s almost asleep, despite the all-over pain he feels, when he hears footsteps approaching a little later.
“If this isn’t enough there’s another two plates worth keeping warm on the stove.”
Len’s voice breaks the sleepy haze Barry is drifting in and he opens his eyes to see a plate of what looks like hash being held close enough that he can see the steam rising even in the low light of the fire.
“Thank you,” he says before his stomach gives a particularly loud growl that makes the older man’s lips twitch into a smirk.
“Any time.”
With a grimace and a sharp breath, Barry pushes himself up to sit, internally cursing his body’s refusal to cooperate at the moment. His mind briefly flashes back to the time after his back had been broken by Zoom. This pain is nowhere near as intense but paired with the limited mobility it still makes him long for his powers to speed the hell up and give him his range of motion back at the very least.
It’s a bad enough reaction that Len sets Barry’ meal down on a small end table by the couch and reaches for the zipper of the parka.
Barry holds stock still, teeth clenched as he tries to calm his breathing while the flare of pain subsides.
Len lowers the zipper slowly, eyes locked with Barry’s as he makes it clear the other man can stop him if he wants. Once the coat is open, he reaches up and gently pushes it from Barry’s shoulders, down to his elbows, before stopping and moving to stand and grab the still lit lantern from the kitchen.
Barry shivers, feeling far too exposed and cold all of the sudden. The fire has the cabin fairly warm, but still. Between the intense way Len looks at him and the spike of anxiety he felt from the unwanted memories he wishes he could just wrap himself back up. He knows he needs to let Len check his injuries though.
Len’s back a moment later and places a gentle hand on his shoulder, urging him to turn so he’s facing the opposite end of the couch with his back to the older man.
The bruising that had only just begun to spread over his back two hours ago is now large and menacing. A mosaic of red, purple, and what almost looks like green spreading out from high on his right shoulder blade to creeps down to the lowest rib and extends out toward the center of Barry’s back on one side, and wrap around his ribs on the other. It’s a jagged pattern that clearly shows the angle at which he struck the tree.
“How bad is it?” Barry asks, voice breaking the trance Len appears to have fallen into looking at the bruising marring the lightly freckled and mole dotted skin of Barry’s back.
“Bad. Almost half of your back is bruised. You’re sure you just need to eat something?” Len asks. His tone is that painfully flat one he uses when he’s talking business. Facts and no feelings. It’s dangerously close to his original Captain Cold persona’s way of speaking before things between them became more of a game than a rivalry.
Swallowing hard, he nods. “Yeah. I can feel how low my blood sugar is. I haven’t run this far before after working all day and doing my rounds as the flash. I ate a bunch of the calorie bars Cisco made me before I left, but they definitely weren’t enough.” turning his head he can see that Len looks concerned, blue eyes still fliting back and forth as they examine Barry’s back.
A moment later the man slips that mask of neutral indifference that he wears so often into place and he sets the lamp aside before pulling the parka back up over Barry’s shoulders carefully. “Hurry up and eat before it gets cold. I’m going to clean up the kitchen, I’ll find you some clothes to wear after.” is all he says before handing Barry the warm plate and moving to go back into the kitchen without another word.
Worried, Barry opens his mouth to ask Len if he’s alright, but his stomach gives another growl and a sharp pang of hunger. He lets the topic rest and digs into the plate currently sitting on his lap.
~~~~~
POV Len
~~~~~
Len prides himself on his ability to stay objective and level headed in most all situations.
This situation, however, is different. Something is not right. Not by any means. He made a point of learning everything he could about Barry, The Flash, back when his primary concern was thieving and flustering the speedster with cold puns and banter.
He even had Hartley hack the computers at S.T.A.R Labs so that he could read some of the medical records they surely kept on the man. Barry’s healing factor should have taken care of most, if not all, of those bruises by now. Running on empty or not.
Things are clicking into place in his mind. An inexplicable power outage. A shockwave knocking Barry hard enough to send him sprawling, even at super speed. His apparently dampened healing. They can’t all be a coincidence.
Busying himself with cleaning the few cooking utensils he used that aren’t going to be needed again tonight, he considers what might happen over the next few hours. Either Barry’s healing will kick in and he’ll be good to run them out of there, or, well... He doesn’t like the alternative. The cabin has enough supplies to last a few more days, depending on how much of a dent Barry puts in them tonight, and normally that would be all well and good. With all electronics knocked out
and
the possibility of a powered down speedster? Who knows?
It
is
like they were hit by an EMP, but nothing is fried... Everything he’s taken apart and fiddled with has appeared to be in perfect working order. There is absolutely no logical reason Len can find as to why none of their gear works. The fact that Barry isn’t very worried helps ease his nerves a bit, but it’s all still unsettling.
When the dishes are clean Len makes his way back out to the living room. Barry only has a few bites left on his plate, but he’s pushing them around with his fork with a distant look in his eyes.
“Not to your liking?”
Barry blinks owlishly up at him before shaking his head in a way that seems to bring him back to himself. “No, it’s good, really. I just feel kind of full...” he trails off, poking at a stray chunk of potato with his fork once more.
“You, the man I once saw eat four large pizzas, with room left for dessert I might add, are full after a single plate of hash?” Len asks, tone giving away how suspicious he is. Stepping closer, he crouches down and looks Barry in the eyes as he reaches up and feels the other man’s forehead out of curiosity. He isn’t warm, or clammy to the touch. So, he appears to be fine in that regard.
“When you put it like that...” Barry mumbles, letting his gaze drop down to the contents of his plate once again. There’s a slight blush tinting his cheeks, and it makes Len want to do something stupid.
He ignores the urge and takes his hand from Barry’s forehead before he can give in and let it turn and slide down to cup Barry’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I lost a fight with Gorilla Grodd,” Barry remarks dryly.
Len feels his lips twitch in response and he tries not to smile at that remark. He’s seen how badly that creature hurt Barry in the past thanks to his research, it wasn’t pretty. “Better or worse than when you woke up.”
Shifting around on the couch a bit so he’s facing Len fully, Barry takes a moment to stretch, clearly trying to assess the full extent of his injuries. Every movement makes the man either wince or give a small gasp or whimper of pain.
“Okay, yeah.. Uh... About the same, actually...” He says before holding a hand out and staring at it intently. After a moment his expression goes from concentration to frustration before he shakes his hand and then stares at it again like it’s supposed to be doing something other than just being a hand.
“What are you doing?” Len questions after another moment of watching Barry struggle.
“I can’t vibrate my cells. My powers are completely gone,” He says in a small voice before looking up to meet Len’s gaze with wide eyes. “Whatever took out all of the tech around us must have done something to my connection to the speed force.”
Len feels a sense of foreboding settle in at those words. “Alright, we need a plan,” He says with a nod, shoving the feeling aside as he beings to pace back and forth in the open space of the living room. “You say your powers are gone? The logical thing for us to do for the time being, then, is wait. Either for your powers to return or your friends over at S.T.A.R labs to send in the cavalry when we don’t return. Whichever comes first. I assume you were still in contact with them up until you were knocked out?” He pauses his pacing and looks to Barry for an answer.
Nodding, Barry shifts so his legs are no longer pulled up onto the couch and are stretched out before him, feet resting on the edge of the throw rug that covers the otherwise cold and bare wooden floor. “I’d spoken to Cisco about ten minutes before. He said the satellite was picking up major interference and that we might lose contact for a little while, but we agreed if that happened he would change the satellites positioning and ping my coms every five minutes until I was back in range and able to reestablish communication.”
“How long would they wait before starting on a rescue mission?” He watches as Barry scrunches his face in that adorable way he does when he’s thinking hard and putting his whole focus on a situation.
“If I ever go out of contact for more than an hour and I'm more than one hundred miles away the plan is to contact Oliver and work with him to track me down. They have the location of the cabin, know I was almost here when the coms and GPS must have gone down, so they would probably wait until morning to see if we show up before gearing up and using Ollie’s plane to fly up here.” Barry runs his left hand through his hair as he speaks before bringing it back to rub at the point where his neck meets his shoulder.
“Unless the Arrow has a pontoon plane at his disposal, they’ll likely have to stop at the airport in Yellowknife or NW and rent one. Only way to land a plane in this area. No runways, but plenty of space on the lake. Though it’s mostly frozen over still. That or they would have to do as I did and take a snowmobile from the nearest town and make sure to have a sled full of fuel and supplies to be safe. Even then getting someone to let them rent either would be nearly impossible as it’s considered suicide to be this far north this time of year. Only the locals who run and work for logging companies are stupid enough to stay here year round.”
“Are those the closest towns? Yellowknife and NW?” Barry asks, looking up to meet Len’s eyes again. Len can practically see the gears turning in his head.
“No, Deline is, it’s about sixty-seven miles south of us. It’s small. Maybe two dozen families in the whole place.” Barry looks away again and Len can again see the way he’s processing the information in the scrunch of his face.
“Alright. So, we wait two nights, if the others haven't shown up to get us or my powers haven’t returned we’ll pack up what supplies we can and start walking,” Barry says with a sure nod. His expression is serious as he starts to speak again. “We can leave a note saying what direction we’re heading so they can find us if they arrive after we leave.”
“You realize we might have to sleep outside if we do this. Have you ever slept outside in winter before?” Len can’t help but ask. He’s had to do so before, but he doesn’t picture Barry being someone who’s ever even gone camping outside of the warm summer months.
“Well, no, but I know I passed a few other cabins on the way here, and a logging camp, so I’m sure there must be others out there that I didn’t notice. We can probably make it to one most nights if we keep up a good pace.” Barry rationalizes. It’s a fair point, but with his ankle injured they’ll likely be going at a snail's pace most of the time.
“True, we could, if you weren’t currently down a leg. That’s a nasty sprain, Scarlet. Do you honestly think you can make it the 17 miles to the nearest cabin in one day?” Len regrets it as soon as the words have left his mouth, Barry deflates visibly at the mention of his injuries and the implication that they will slow them down.
“Look, I’m not saying we shouldn’t go if it becomes clear we have no other choice. I’m simply saying that we need to think things through before we commit to an exit strategy. I agree we can make it to Deline if need be, but we need to prepare for the possibility that we might have to sleep outdoors some nights in an area where it can drop into the negatives.”
“I understand that. And I’m willing to do what it takes to get us out of here.” The determination in his voice is clear, even if his face is more somber and his gaze has fallen back to the plate he still holds with one hand.
Len studies him for a long moment, silence stretching out between them. It’s not uncomfortable, but not exactly pleasant either. “If they aren’t here by mid-morning the day after next then we’ll leave. There are a few maps of the area in the office. I’ll leave one with our intended route marked out and a note for the others to find
if
they arrive after we leave.”
Barry smiles up at him then, a soft look that makes Len feel pleasantly warm all over despite himself. The spell of it is broken a moment later when Barry yawns loudly, hand coming to cover his mouth as he does so.
With that Len takes the plate from his hand and turns to go back to the kitchen. “Let me take care of the leftovers and I’ll grab you something to sleep in. Unless you’re fine sleeping in just your underwear and my parka?” His tone is teasing and he can practically hear the blush forming on the speedster's face as he scoffs and throws a small pillow from the couch at the back of Len’s head.
~~~~~
POV Barry
~~~~~
After that Len brought him a thick pair of dark blue flannel pajama pants and a soft grey Henley that is only a bit too big on him to sleep in. He had bid Barry goodnight a moment later and disappeared through a doorway that was apparently a hall leading to the office, bathroom, and two bedrooms. Len had also brought him some prescription strength Tylenol he had kicking around, which should actually have an effect, given that his metabolism should be running at a normal human speed for now.
After a short mental debate with himself, he ends up folding the no longer needed parka and using it as a makeshift pillow. It’s much softer than the stiff throw pillows on the couch, and lying on it made his head throb less harshly than it had before.
Soon after getting settled on the couch once again, with his ankle propped up and his body turned so he didn’t place any weight on the bruised part of his back, he fell asleep to the sound of the dying fire.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
~~~~~
POV Barry
~~~~~
When he wakes up, it’s to a cold, bright room, and the sound of movement coming from the kitchen. Sitting up slowly he notes that while he still hurts like hell all over, tender and sore in places that hadn’t hurt the night before, it isn’t as bad as he feared it might be. His headache is almost completely got at least.
Looking towards the kitchen he spots Len, who is crouched in front of the wood stove and crumpling up an old newspaper to use as a means to start a fire. The other man glances over at him in that way he always does when he knows Barry is there despite his silence, before going back to the task at hand.
“Welcome back to the land of the living.”
Barry snorts a laugh at that, he doesn’t much feel like one of the living right now. His right side feels like someone took a baseball bat to it, and he’s fairly certain it’s not going to be all that much better any time soon without the help of his speed healing. “Good morning to you, too,” he replies with a small yawn. “What time is it?”
“About seven. I’ll have breakfast ready in a bit.” Len grunts as he strikes a match and carefully reached into the little opening of the old stove to light the paper and other bits of kindling. Once that’s done, Barry can see him hold his hands out to warm them a moment before he closes the iron door and moves to stand. “How are you feeling?”
“Not much better. My headache is gone, though, so that’s something to be thankful for.” He notes as he looks around the room. It’s much brighter than the previous night now that it’s being illuminated by the morning sun, which is filtering in from three small windows that line the opposite wall. The place actually looks pretty cozy.
Continuing to look around, he spots the cold gun, as well as his suit, and the satellite phone Len contacted the lab with, are spread out on the table now with various parts having been removed and carefully arranged around them. “I take it none of our gear is working still.”
“Nope,” Len’s tone is flat and it makes Barry’s spirits drop considerably. “I don’t suppose you’ve picked up any engineering skills from Cisco over the years?”
“Cisco showed me how to repair my suits systems, and I know enough of the basics from building robots and doing various science projects over the years to get by. Want me to take a look?” he offers, already bracing himself on the arm of the couch so he can push himself up to standing.
“Not like it could do any harm.” He hears the thief grumble as he goes about puttering around the kitchen.
Moving cautiously, Barry makes it to his feet and tests if he can bear any weight on his ankle. The slight pressure of leaning on his right leg makes the pain in his ankle flare to life with a vengeance and send white-hot pain shooting up his leg. It’s intense, and he whimpers from it before shifting the weight back to his good leg. After that, he turns on his left foot and takes a careful hobbling step toward the table. It sends another sharp pulse of pain, even with the careful way he walks the two short steps it takes, but he makes it and settles heavily into the wooden chair closest to him with a sigh of relief.
There’s a window directly beside the table, partially frosted over with cold seeping in along with the sunlight. The chill from it makes Barry briefly wish he was still wearing Len’s parka. He pushes the ridiculous thought aside and reaches out carefully, as extending his right arm makes his shoulder twinge sharply in protest, to pull his suit closer and take a look at the currently open panel on the cowl where the coms and GPS are located.
There’s an assortment of small tools laid out on the table, along with a small rig that holds a magnifying glass. Barry pulls that closer as well and takes a look through the glass as he grabs a pair of tweezers and a tiny screwdriver. He goes about checking circuits, connections, and wires one by one after that.
It’s as Len said the night before, everything looks fine. No damage to be found in any way, and no feasible reason for the electronics to not be functioning as they should. The power supplies even appear to still hold a charge when he tests them the old-fashioned way.
Len clears his throat as he enters the room a little later, drawing Barry’s attention from the small circuit board he’s currently examining up to where the other man is standing just inside the living room doorway. He has a plate in one hand and a steaming blue mug in the other as he gives Barry a questioning look.
Barry’s stomach lets out a particularly loud growl at that exact moment, and he feels his cheeks heat from embarrassment. He sees Len quirk a small, barely there smile at the reaction before walking over and motioning for Barry to push the suit out of the way for now.
It’s the leftover hash from last night, but reheated and mixed with scrambled eggs to change things up a bit. Len sets the plate down first, followed by the mug of black coffee, before retreating back into the kitchen to retrieve his own breakfast.
Barry does his best to resist the urge to moan at the first bite. It’s not all that different than it had been before, but he’s hungry, and Len is a surprisingly good cook. The other man joins him a moment later and he offers a sheepish yet grateful smile before stuffing another forkful into his mouth.
“Find anything?” Len asks, motioning to the various pieces of tech on the table between them with his fork.
Shaking his head in answer, Barry takes a moment to swallow and take a sip of the hot coffee Len provided before speaking. “Nothing. Whatever is interfering with the electrical systems didn’t do any damage to them and or drain their power sources. It’s like we’re in some kind of dead zone or something. Only instead of blocking signals, whatever this is, it’s blocking anything electrical from functioning.”
“Alright, does that explain why your powers are gone? The speed force is a kind of energy you tap into, right?” Len questions, his expression thoughtful like he’s trying to remember the details correctly.
“Kind of. It’s more complicated than that. It’s a form of sentient cosmic energy with a will of its own and it exists in its own dimension separate from ours. I’m able to tap into it because of my meta-DNA and physiology, but also because it
allows
me to. My body does create energy, electricity, when I’m tapping into the speed force, but Cisco thinks that when I’m standing still it does so because of the electrical field present in my body, whereas when I’m running it’s a build up from the kinetic energy I’m creating.” Barry explains, hoping he doesn’t sound absolutely crazy and is at least making some kind of sense right now.
Len simply quirks an eyebrow at Barry’s explanation. “Right... That’s... I definitely would be interested in learning more about that but at another time. It’s a bit early for this kind of talk.”
Barry can’t help but sag a little in relief at that. It really is too early to try and go into any further details without a lot more coffee and maybe some painkillers, since they seemed to work for him last night. “So, what’s the plan for today?” He asks before going back to eating.
Len hums and lets his gaze drift around the room a moment before settling back on Barry and answering. “The plan is for you to rest and try not to put any further strain on your ankle and back, while I hike the two miles to the fishing lodge north of us to see if they have any medical supplies we can use. They should at least have a pair of crutches if not more painkillers and the things needed to make a temporary brace for that ankle of yours.”
“What? You don’t ne-”
Len cuts him off with a raised hand and a sharp look in his ice blue eyes. “Barry, we need to look at this situation from the perspective of regular people that have been stranded without the means to get help. You’re injured, our communications have been cut, and we’ll likely have to make the trek to the nearest town. Either I go raid the nearby fishing lodge for supplies, or we’re looking at the likelihood of having to pull you on a sled for over sixty miles. If the members of Team Flash and Team Arrow come to our rescue before we’ve agreed to leave, then I give my word that I will put any supplies we take from the lodge back. Sound reasonable?”
He wants to argue, say his ankle isn’t that bad, but he knows that would be a lie, and Len does have a point. Crutches would allow him to walk under his own power and allow Len to use the sled he mentioned to pull their supplies along. It really is a sound plan...
“How long would it take you? To go hike to the lodge and back, I mean,” he finds himself asking after a long moment of the two of them just holding eye contact.
Cracking a triumphant smile, Len raises his mug of coffee, ready to take a sip. “In this snow? Two and a half hours. Maybe three if the lodge has any food or other meds I can snag to pad our supplies.”
Sighing, Barry leans back in his seat before wincing at the way the pressure on his bruised back causes a sharp pain to flash through him. “So much for being a Legend ending your days as a thief...” he says with a wry smile at the older man.
“I’ll always be a thief, Scarlet. I just found a better use for my talents and a better moral compass along the way. I’m still the same charming Rogue I’ve always been despite that.” Len chuckles.
“I bet Sara loves that,” Barry says before he can think to stop himself. He wasn’t sure what their current status was, Len and Captain Lance. Mick had mentioned how the two got close in the time they were all together on the WaveRider. He’d also heard something about a kiss before Len tried to sacrifice himself to save the others. It’s none of his business, really, but he can’t help but be curious. He’s always had an... interest, in the other man. An attraction that’s only grown stronger over time despite his bests efforts to ignore it and move on.
“Wouldn’t know,” Len says, scrunching his face in that somewhat petulant way he does when something irks him, before taking a sip of his coffee and poking at the remaining food on his plate. “Haven’t spoken to her much since the Legends brought me home. She spends most of her free time with her girlfriend, Ava, these days.”
Barry nearly chokes on the bite of egg he’d been swallowing. ”Ava?” he sputters. “I thought the two of you were...” He isn’t sure what else to say after that, so he just gives a wild gesture of confusion with both hands.
Len laughs at that. Outright laughs. Loud and rich and it makes his whole frame shake and now Barry is even more confused. “Let me guess, Mick, the gossip that he is, told you about the kiss?” When Barry just continues to stare and look flustered, he carries on. “The good Captain and I did become quite close in our time together, but that’s all. She kissed me goodbye when I made it clear I was sacrificing myself to save everyone. It was a nice kiss, probably the most heartfelt one I’ve ever received. But there was no spark. When the Legends found me all those months after the Oculus was destroyed Sara and I had a nice chat about it and we agreed we’re nothing more than good friends, which was fine seeing as she was already seeing Ava when they found me.”
Taking all the information in, Barry nods his understanding. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume,-”
“Don’t apologize, Barry. It’s fine.” Len assures with a shake of his head.
They fall into a slightly awkward silence after that, both of them finishing their meal shortly after.
~~~~~ POV Len ~~~~~
It’s about an hour later and a half later, well after Len has taken care of the dishes, helped Barry make his way to the restroom, and gotten him some warmer clothes to wear for the day, that he decides it’s time to head out on his little hike.
The sled he had attached to the back of his snowmobile is lightweight but sturdy, so he can easily pull it along behind himself and use it to bring back whatever supplies he finds. Barry clearly doesn’t look thrilled that he’s leaving, but the younger man says nothing to stop him as gets ready.
Taking one last look around the living room as he fidgets with his gloves, he notes that Barry is simply laying on the couch again. His back propped up on the softer of the folded blankets he’d used the night before, while his injured leg is propped up on the same throw pillow. It occurs to him that the other man might grow restless just lying there, so with a confused look from the crippled speedster, he turns and goes down the hall towards his office.
Mick’s story is still resting where he had left it on top of the desk, and he snatches it up, making sure everything is still nicely clipped together in order before he saunters back out to the living room and presents the stack of typed pages to the still confused looking younger man. “Mick’s story. Figured you might appreciate some entertainment while I’m gone.”
Barry raises an eyebrow at that, before reaching out and taking the offered stack of paper. He eyes the cover, a smile spreading on his lips as he looks it over. “This should be interesting, thanks,” he concedes before flipping open the first page.
“Enjoy,” Len says with a small mock salute as he turns to take the few short steps over to the cabin's front door.
“Be safe!” Barry calls out before Len can step out the door.
Barry’s words make Len pause and look back over his shoulder. There’s real concern in Barry’s eyes, and it makes his stomach do an odd little flip to have that look directed at him. “Always.”
With that, he’s gone. The door closing firmly behind him as he pulls his goggles up over his eyes and raises the hood of his parka. It’s cold out. About twenty degrees according to the little thermometer in the window by the front door. It’s still early in the morning and may warm up further during the day if he’s lucky. March in the arctic circle is a bitch, but at least they don’t have to worry about the temperatures too much since it’s nearing the end of the month and some days it reached into the high thirties.
It doesn’t take long to get the sled detached from the back of the broken snowmobile and rigged so that the rope can be looped over his shoulders like the straps of a backpack. It’s a little awkward at first, but he quickly adjusts to the tug of the plastic dragging over the uneven snow behind him.
There’s a trail that cuts through the woods on the Northern edge of the clearing his cabin rests in that goes directly to the fishing Lodge he intends to raid. He’s been to it before, many years ago, back when he decided to take his first trip up here on a whim.
It was a place his grandfather had talked about, telling secondhand stories from friends who had been able to afford the long trip up to fish on the lake in the summer. He never could afford it himself. After one of Len’s first big solo scores, he took a trip up here, wanting to see what the big deal was. He ended up buying the cabin in his grandfather's name a year later. A little safe haven that only Mick and Lisa knew about.
It really is a beautiful place. Calm in a way Len hasn’t experienced anywhere else. He likes it. Sometimes. It’s charm only appeals to him for a few days at a time, maybe a week or two if things have been particularly stressful. It’s a good place to clear his head.
A rabbit runs across the trail ahead, and Len pauses a moment to watch it before continuing on. The wildlife around here is always very active. Enough so that he always has a weapon on him when he’s out here. Rabbits are no threat, obviously, but the wolves that hunt them, as well as the bears in the area? They’re another story. Most will ignore you unless they’re spooked. That’s also why he generally takes the time to walk slowly and observe his surroundings as carefully as possible.
To his left, he can see the lake through the tree line. Its banks are frozen over still, ice reaching far enough to make it difficult for any potential air rescue to happen. Though if the members of Team Flash and Team Arrow do come swooping in, he’s sure they would be able to manage it.
He honestly isn’t holding out hope on that happening, though. It’s close to nine in the morning at this point, and knowing what he knows about the Arrow and his people, they would have moved quickly. And from what he knows about Ramon’s powers as a Meta, he could feasibly have opened a breach into the area to rescue them hours ago.
If none of these things happen by this evening, he’s 95 percent certain that a rescue attempt has already been thwarted in some way. Likely by whatever is messing with their tech and Barry’s own powers. He just wishes he could find some kind of evidence as to what’s causing whatever is happening here.
Len continues to mull over the information he has and possible explanations and scenarios until he reaches the end of the trail and is met with the sight of a large three story (fake) log structure on the water's edge with a large dock stretching out far over the ice.
The large windows, as well as the doors, have all been covered and boarded to protect the glass for the long winter. it’s easy enough for Len to get in regardless. He has the lock to the main door picked in a matter of seconds, even with the cold making it hard to handle the small metal picks with the level of precision he normally has. The alarm was already dead when he went to check it, not surprisingly.
The heavy wooden door swings shut behind him with a bang and rattle of metal that reverberates through the spacious main floor of the lodge. There’s a reception desk to his left, a hallway straight ahead, and to his right, the room opens up into a large lounge type area. Couches, chairs, and tables strewn about the space to give it an almost cozy feel.
There’s a door behind the reception desk, likely leading to the staff lounge and offices. That’s where he decides to start his search, only pausing to take a quick look around behind the counter and pull out a small first aid kit, which he leaves on said counter, before proceeding through the door.
The room he enters is indeed the work lounge, just enough light filtering in through the covered windows to show a table, chairs, couch, fridge and various small appliances on a far counter. He starts there, searching the cabinets and drawers for any forgotten canned goods and first aid supplies. He finds an unopened jar of instant coffee, half a bottle of naproxen that hasn’t expired, a rubber duck (why the fuck is that in with the coffee cups???), which he grabs for a laugh, and some sugar packets.
All are thrown into a trash bag he found under the sink before he moves on to the next room.
The next door is locked, and again it’s no challenge at all to pick. The office is darker than the break room had been. Enough so that he says fuck it and opens the single window and knocks down the wooden cover that was hung over it to let some light in.
It’s not a very big office. Two desks and half a dozen filing cabinets. The drawers of the desks don’t even lock, much to Len’s amusement. The little safe tucked in the corner is older than he is. There’s also a closet, where he finds a pair of crutches, a large first aid kit, a dozen different kinds of braces for various body parts, a box of flares along with a flare gun, and a mess of fishing gear.
It only takes a moment to find an adjustable ankle brace in the box full of medical supplies. He throws it into the bag with his other findings from the previous room, along with the box of flares and the first aid kit. He also grabs the crutches and sets them beside the door before moving on to check the desk drawers.
There isn’t really anything useful in them. He does find a few candy bars though, which he snags happily. He doesn’t have a big sweet tooth, but the might need the calories, and he knows for a fact Barry has a weakness for Snickers bars, of which he finds three.
He checks out the safe last. In the silence, it’s easy enough to listen to the tumblers as they click into place with just his ear to the door. After that, he uses his picks on the secondary lock and chuckles at how easy this all was.
There’s a small stack of cash, two bottles of painkillers, both Oxycodone, and various papers relating to the lodges business dealings. He leaves them, as well as the cash, and takes the Oxy. They should definitely help with Barry’s pain.
Once he feels the room has been thoroughly searched, he gathers his goods and moves back out to the main floor. It isn’t hard to figure out where to go from there. The options are go upstairs to where the guest rooms are, or go down the single hallway to the left of the reception desk, which he knows leads to the kitchen and cafeteria.
He doesn’t even bother looking around the cafeteria, it’s all packed up. Tables and chairs stacked and pushed into a far corner.
The kitchen is also fairly sparse looking at first glance, but Len knows better. Places like this tend to buy a good deal of canned and shelf-stable produce they can leave if unfinished at the end of the season.
He finds several pounds of vacuum-sealed beef jerky, of which he grabs a dozen of the smaller packages. A few individual-sized cans of soup also littler the pantry shelves, likely left by the staff for personal consumption, as the food for guests is in massive cans he won’t even try to take. A box of granola bars that don’t expire for a few more months is found behind a large mostly empty box of crackers (eww...). And best of all, he finds a few bottles of Gatorade and 5 cans of cola.
The bag he carries is getting heavy, making him glad he brought the sled along to help cart back what he’s been able to scavenge. It’s all worth it. The food, medical supplies, hell even the flares could come in handy. Both in signaling a potential rescue
and
as a source to start a fire if for some reason they start one any other way.
Len is feeling quite pleased as he reenters the main room of the lodge and makes his way over to grab the crutches from where he left them resting on the counter. After that what greets him as he opens the heavy door to the outside isn’t the view of the open field he trekked across not even 40 minutes ago, but the hulking brown figure of a grizzly bear. And worse yet, it’s not even five feet away as it sniffs at the plastic sled he left by the railing of the lodge’s porch.
The grizzly turns and Len has just enough time to step back and slam the door closed, throwing the thick metal bar on the bottom that firmly latches the door in place before he hears an angry roar and
feels
the door shake and rattle as he hears wood splintering under the impact of heavy claws.
He backs away, bag of supplies dropped and .45 aimed and ready even though he knows it’s useless against such an animal unless he gets extremely lucky and either hits it in an eye or the heart. He's a good shot, but he doubts he’d be able to hit that small a target on a rampaging grizzly.
The door rattles and creaks a few more times, more wood splintering, the enraged animal giving another loud roar before seeming to give up its attempts to get at him through the barred door. Len curses under his breath as he tries to calm his pounding heart. The heavy wooden panels covering all of the windows and doors of the building appears to have kept the bear from busting its way inside or even being able to see him anymore. But likewise, they keep him from seeing the bear as well, which puts him at a greater disadvantage.
He looks around, taking in his options. Anyway, he leaves the bear will likely hear and see him as he makes his way across the field to the tree line where the path back to Barry lies. He can’t run, can’t fight, so he has to wait it out.
His eyes land on the rustic looking wooden stairs that lead up to the second and third floors.
A smirk spreads across his lips as a plan forms in his mind. He can go up to the room above the main entrance of the lodge. The rooms have heavy shutters on the windows that can be opened and closed from the inside, unlike the first floor. He quickly makes his way up to the room, finding the door unlocked and the air stale.
The window creeks slightly as he opens it, hesitating only a moment before flipping the series of latches that hold the shutters closed before he eases one open enough to take a look at the ground below.
The bear is pacing back and forth, huffing every now and then like it’s growing impatient. A gust of wind makes the shutter shift and open wider, causing its hinges to squeak. The grizzly hears, rearing up on its hind legs directly below the window and roaring up at Len as saliva drips from its maw.
Len quickly pulls the shutter closed and latches it again. He doubts the bear could reach him if it tried, but he’s seen crazier things in his day, so best not to risk it.
Heaving a defeated sigh, he holsters his gun before letting himself sink to the floor beside the window. He can still hear the bear, giving the occasional grunt of huff from below as Its paws crunch through the snow. It’s a waiting game now. One he will win. After all, patience is something he’s known for.
~~~~~
POV Barry
~~~~~
Mick’s book is... Surprisingly well written. Barry wasn’t sure what to expect, but he certainly wasn’t expecting this. He’s actually enjoying it and getting invested in the story, finding the characters both relatable and interesting.
He loses track of time quickly, only setting the story aside long enough to hobble into the kitchen to grab some lunch, and then again later when he needs to use the bathroom.
It’s later still when he’s almost finished with the book and his stomach has begun to growl again, that he realizes Len is late. By over five hours if the grandfather clock in the corner is right. He left at about eight-forty-five that morning, which means by Len’s own estimation he would have been back by about noon at the latest. It’s now five-seventeen according to the clock.
A sense of dread settles in at that realization, twisting heavy in his gut as he forces himself to make his way over to the front door. His ankle protests, pain shooting up his leg and making his knees nearly buckle from the intensity of it. He forces himself to move through it, teeth clenched tight enough to make his jaw ache as he reaches the front door.
He braces himself on the frame, weight settling on his left foot as he raises his right one slightly in an attempt to ease the throb of pain that’s going in time with his rapid heartbeat. “LEN!” He shouts as he looks around. The front door of the cabin faces the direction of the snowed over dirt road that connects to the wider logging one Barry had followed the night before. To his right is what looks like a small shed, and the dead snowmobile Len had mentioned. To his left is the clear gap in the trees that is the trail Len was taking to the lodge to the north.
There’s no sign of the other man coming, though the trail curves off so he can’t see more than maybe half a mile down it if his perception can be trusted.
He calls out again, loud as he can, but there’s still no reply. Just silence and the call of a crow flying overhead.
Unsure what to do next, he stares a moment longer before closing the door and heavily dropping down into the armchair beside it. His back protests the impact with the not exactly soft backrest, but he ignores it, too worried about Len to really care. He can’t possibly go looking for the other man, he can barely handle walking around the damn cabin with his ankle the way it is.
He can do nothing but wait and hope Len makes it back soon.
Briefly, he considers reading the last dozen pages of Mick’s book, but there’s no way he could enjoy it. So, he decides on doing something he
hopes
is productive. Much to his battered bodies protest, he moves from the relative comfort of the armchair to one of the hard wooden ones at the table to his right.
Their gear lies in various states of disassembly on the table, and he can at least put it all back together while he waits.
He starts with his suit. Cisco had made a point of showing him how all of the components work and how to fix and replace them in an emergency. The motions are familiar and calming, but it only does so much to lessen his nerves. He finds himself glancing at the clock every so often, worry growing as the number of hours until dark grow fewer.
It’s when he’s finished hooking the power cell back into the cold gun that he hears something outside.
Len is outside the window when he looks up, dropping the ropes of the sled as he faces away from the cabin. He looks fine, but he’s moving slowly as he picks up a pair of crutches and what looks like a trash bag.
Barry just makes it to standing when Len pushes the door open.
“What happened? Are you alright?”
Len gives him an exhausted look as he drops the bag of pilfered supplies on the floor beside himself and leans the crutches against the wall beside the door. “I’m fine. Had a run in with a bear. Let’s just say Smokey is not as friendly in person as one would hope,” Len quips dryly with a shrug. “Had to wait him out before I could leave the lodge. Sorry to worry you.”
Barry barks a nearly manic sounding laugh at how nonchalant Len is being about the ordeal. “You’re sorry? You had to deal with a freaking bear! I’m just glad you’re alright!” he says before stumbling forward and throwing his arms around Len’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug.
Len goes stock still in his arms and Barry mentally kicks himself for being so stupid. He got used to Leo asking for hugs when he’s around, he didn’t even stop to think that Len might not be alright with this. They may be alternate versions of the same person, but they clearly think and feel differently.
He's about to pull away when he feels Len shift in his grasp, the other man’s arms wrapping loosely around his waist a beat later. Barry just
melts
into the embrace after that, relieved that Len is back safe and sound, and apparently is fine with Barry’s sudden need to hug him.
“Why, Scarlet, I didn’t know you cared so much.” Len’s tone is only slightly teasing as his breath tickles Barry’s neck where the other man has apparently tilted his head so his chin is tucked into the crook there where Barry’s neck meets shoulder. It makes a pleasant little shiver run up his spine.
“Of course, I care.” It comes out much softer than he intended, but he can’t really bring himself to care as Len tightens his arms around Barry’s waist and holds him closer.
They stay like that for a long moment before Len starts to pull back. Barry lets him, and when it becomes clear he’s about to stumble from the inability to really use his right leg to balance, Len puts his hands on the speedsters shoulders to steady him.
“Come on, you need to get off that ankle and I need to make something to eat. All I’ve had since breakfast is some beef jerky and a granola bar,” Len says with an exaggerated frown on his face, like it was such a terrible experience, even though he actually liked the little portion of the pilfered rations he allowed himself to consume.
Barry can’t help but smile as he nods his agreement.
~~~~~
POV Len
~~~~~
He’s been back almost three hours when they hear the first howl of the night. It’s not close by any means, but it makes Barry jump as he’s never heard an actual wolf howl before. Len wants to roll his eyes as the reaction, but he decides to behave himself as the speedster is looking right at him with wide eyes. He can’t fault the kid for never spending any time farther north than Gotham. Not that that shit hole is much safer, it is in New Jersey after all.
“Relax, the wolves can’t get in.” He assures the younger man with a smirk.
Barry gives him an uncertain look from his place laid out on the couch. “Do they come by the cabin often?”
“No. Not usually. But I only ever stay four or five days at a time. The most they’ve done while I've been here is sniff around the clearing,” he lies easily. Best not to spook him with the story of the one that took a lunge at him when he went to start up the generator his first night here almost a week ago.
“Somehow, I don’t believe you.” The uncertain look from before has morphed into a mix of doubt and worry. “Be honest with me, Len. Do we have to worry about wolves if we have to make the hike to Deline?”
He studies Barry a moment, taking in the way he’s tensed up slightly and the more serious slope of his brow overcomes the scrunched look of worry from before. “They could possibly be a problem. If we have to sleep outside at any point we’ll sleep in shifts and keep a fire going. In general, they aren’t a fan of it, and it’s easy enough to scare them off when you have one burning.”
Barry deflates a little with Len’s words, his head dropping back against the arm of the couch behind him and his eyes slipping closed. “Great. You know, I always wanted to see a real live wolf. I’ve seen stuffed ones in museums, but never a living breathing one.” he says with a breezy tone.
Len can’t help but snort in response. “In that case, I’ll be sure to wait until you’ve gotten a good look before shooting.”
Cracking one eye open Barry looks over at him and Len can’t help the mischievous smile that spreads over his face.
A full chorus of howls starts in after that, growing more frequent as night sets in, varying in pitch and length from all directions out in the woods beyond. Len can see Barry struggling to relax and ignore the sounds. They are quite beautiful in a way, but also unsettling if you aren’t used to them.
“How do you feel about sleeping in a real bed tonight?” Len asks as a way of distracting the younger man, tone thoughtful as he startles Barry from the daze he seems to have fallen into.
“Really?” The look he gives Len is hopeful as he pushes himself up to sit.
Nodding, Len moves to stand from his chair as well. “The room will be a bit colder than the living room, but the bed is more comfortable than the couch. And now that we have that brace,” he nods towards the black apparatus of fabric-covered metal and velcro straps wrapped around Barry’s ankle where the ace bandage had once been. “and the crutches, you should be fine to move around on your own if you need to.”
“That would be great.” The relief rolling off the speedster is nearly palpable as he turns on the couch and reaches to pick up the crutches where they lie at his feet. ”The couch is seriously comfortable, but I’d love to be able to spread out and sleep on my stomach tonight, my back could use a break.”
Humming in understanding, Len picks up the blankets Barry had been using and motions for him to follow Len into the small hallway. It’s fairly dark only a little light from the living room bouncing off the walls, but he knows the space well and once Barry is behind him, he turns to gently place a hand on his upper back to guide him into the open doorway of the spare bedroom.
There’s just enough of a glow filtering in around them that the outline of the bed is visible. Len steps around Barry once he’s in the room and goes about throwing the thick blankets over the thinner one that still covers the mattress. “This is the warmer of the two rooms since it shares a wall with the fireplace, so you shouldn’t be too cold. The clothes you slept in last night are on the shelf on the opposite side of the bed.”
“Thanks, Len,” Barry yawns as he slowly makes his way around to the other side of the bed, his crutches making a sort of clicking sound against the wooden floor.
He shakes his head at that, feeling a little undeserving of any thanks at the moment. Barry is only in the state he’s in now because Len couldn’t suck up his pride and apologize to Mick. He tries not to let it get to him, but after spending the morning and evening with the injured man it started to eat away at him.
Normally, Barry is in some state of constant motion, only holding still when it’s absolutely necessary. The man is the very definition of kinetic energy. But today, aside from eating or working on their gear, he barely moved at all, which shows just how injured the younger man really is.
“Get some rest, I’ll see you in the morning.”
He doesn’t look back as he leaves the guest bedroom and makes the short trip down the hall to his own. His spiraling thoughts and anxieties keep him awake for a while after that, sleep only finding him when the wolves outside their door have finally become silent and the cabin starts to grow cold from the fires last embers dying out.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
~~~~~ POV Len ~~~~~ It’s later than usual when Len finally wakes up, the sun already filtering in through the window to cast a warm glow throughout the room. He squints against the early morning brightness before rubbing his eyes with a groan and forcing himself to leave the warmth of his bed. He can hear Barry’s snores echoing down the hall as he moves, and he resists the urge to go throw a pillow at him like he would with Mick or pretty much anyone else he knows given the same opportunity. Instead, he pauses near the slightly ajar door and knocks on the frame twice, startling the younger man awake with a mumbled ‘ huh, wha ? ’. “Rise and shine, Scarlet.” “What time is it?” the speedster grumbles as the sound of shifting blankets is heard. “Almost eight. Come on, I’ll make us some coffee.” He doesn’t wait for the younger man to reply, preferring to go focus on getting a fire lit in the wood stove to make the aforementioned beverage as well as to warm place a bit. For the next twenty minutes, Len’s body runs on autopilot. Mind already focused on what needs to be done before they can leave, while he goes through the motions of making coffee and a decent breakfast for the both of them. He already packed the food they would be taking with them into a duffle bag. Medical supplies and flares went into a backpack, which Barry insists on wearing. He’d wanted to pack Barry’s suit in it as well, but the younger man declined, wanting to wear it under the clothes Len provided, just in case. The only things left to do were gather all the supplies in one spot, draw up their intended route on a spare map to leave behind, and get geared up to go. The sound of Barry’s crutches clicking on the wooden floor pull him from his thoughts, and he looks over his shoulder to find the younger man has entered the kitchen and is looking over the mostly empty shelves to his left. “Looking for something?” “Huh? Oh, no. I just felt like I needed to move around.” Barry gives him a small dismissive shrug before turning back to the shelves. “And I was curious about what was taking you so long.” “Grits take longer than the scrambled eggs to cook.” Len points out with a roll of his eyes. “Not that much longer.” “They do when they aren’t that instant sludge people try to pass of as real food.” Barry barks a laugh that has Len looking over at him again with a challenging glare. “Something funny, Scarlet?” “Who knew Leonard Snart would be such a food snob.” The amusement in Barry’s tone is clear, body turned in such a way that he only sees the speedster’s side profile, and his shoulders shake like he’s trying to suppressing a laughing fit. “The instant kind tastes like mud.” He defends, knowing he must sound like a bit of a child for arguing. But it’s true, instant grits are disgusting. “Now go sit your ass down, foods almost done and we leave in forty-seven minutes.” “I am so buying you a pink frilly apron when we get back to Central. Oh! No, wait! A blue one with little snowflakes all over it! I bet I can get Cisco to make one for you,” Barry teases gleefully as he hobbles his way back out of the kitchen. Len lets out a growl of annoyance, resisting the urge to throw something at the crippled younger man. “Do that and you’ll find yourself getting the cold shoulder.” “Oh god! Please don’t start with the cold puns again!” Barry bemoans loudly from the next room. “You went two years without hearing any puns from me, I think that’s a long enough reprieve, don’t you? Don’t go getting all frosty on me just because you have no sense of humor.” The grin on his face almost makes his cheeks hurt as he hears a thud from the other room that he has no doubt is from Barry’s forehead connecting with the table. “That’s it, when we get back, I’m having Cisco open a breach to Earth X and I’m trading you in for Leo. At least when he makes a pun he apologizes after.” Barry calls back, voice sounding a bit muffled and a hint put-upon. Len feels a twinge of jealousy deep down at the mention of his doppelganger, which he logically knows is ridiculous given that the younger man is talking about an alternate version of himself. “Oh, does he now?” he keeps his tone flat, not wanting to let on that the speedsters jab actually bothered him. He also feels the urge to throw something again, but he pushes it down and instead focuses on plating the rest of their breakfast now that it’s ready. “Yeah. Though, if I trade you for him, I’ll have to convince his husband to come along as well. I don’t think he’d appreciate me just showing up and dropping you off before running away with Leo.” The speedster muses. That bit of information causes Len to pause mid step and study Barry closely for a moment where he rests at the table, brain catching up to what he’d just heard. “Husband?” Barry raises his head from where it was resting on his folded arms, and he gives Len an appraising look, tensing a bit before he speaks. “Yeah, a meta from our Earth named Ray. They got married a few months ago. We gave him the parka you left at the lab after he helped us with a problem. It was the day before the wedding and he joked it was his something “navy”, since it’s not really blue.” After taking a moment to further process this information, he shakes his head while trying not to let on how amusing he finds this all. It’s a bit reassuring to know other versions of himself are still pansexual, or gay, or whatever the other him identifies as. Len takes a seat at the table with Barry a moment later and slides his breakfast towards him. “Tell me more about this alternate version of myself.” Barry visibly relaxes and grins at him before he starts to tell Len about how Nazi’s from another universe showed up in the middle of Oliver and Felicity’s wedding to try and take out earths greatest hero’s in a play to take over yet another dimension and find a way to save the Fuhrer’s dying wife. ~~~~~ POV Barry ~~~~~ It’s a quarter to nine in the morning, and Barry’s feeling anxious about what’s about to happen. He’s sitting on the couch, Flash suit on under a pair of thick flannel lined jeans that are a little too big for his hips, a soft navy colored sweater, and a parka that he has a sneaking suspicion belongs to Lisa, based on how it fits him. Too small for Len or Mick, but still a bit big on his lithe runners frame. Len has been moving about the cabin checking various things and going over a list he made of their supplies for the last five minutes. It makes him feel better knowing the thief is being as thorough about this as he would be with one of his heists. But he still feels uneasy about their coming journey. In all actuality, it isn’t that far to travel, given that the average adult can walk up to 25 miles in a day if need be. But that’s in ideal condition, and their situation is far from ideal. There is up to two feet of snow in some places, which would make travel hard even in prime shape, never mind in Barry’s currently injured condition. The crutches definitely make getting around easier, but he’ll still have to use his injured leg to get through the snow. Which means the crutches are to help keep him upright and offer support more than anything. The brace should help protect his ankle from further damage as they walk, but he imagines it will only help so much. He’s not looking forward to shape his body will likely be in at the end of the day. Len walks back into the room then, eyes fixed on the list he holds in one hand, the other holding a thick wool blanket rolled up under his arm. “This is the last of it,” he says before starting to rattle off the contents of the list. “Medical supplies, food, flares, matches, sleeping bags, blankets, cooking implements, lantern, fuel, hatchet, rope, sewing kit, hunting knife, two gallons of water, ammo.” Everything listed except the water and lantern being in the duffle bag, rucksack, hiking backpack (which Barry will be wearing) and what looks like a large laundry bag that are currently piled in the middle of the living room floor. “Should we bring more water?” Barry asks, wondering just how heavy the sled will actually be with the majority of those items on it. He knows not everything is very heavy, but laid out the way it is it looks like it could be a real pain to pull once they get walking for a while. He had offered to carry more in the backpack he would be carrying, but it was a fight just to get Len to agree to him carrying the bulky over-stuffed first aid kit and the case full of flares to begin with. “We’ll melt and boil snow it to replenish our supply,” Len dismisses with a wave of the list as he moves over to the door. “I’ll get everything arranged on the sled so we can head out.” Barry watches him walk out of the cabin, door left open in his wake as he’ll need to make a second trips back and forth to bring everything out. It lets in a gust of cold morning air that causes a shiver to run through him. He can do this. He’s had to do harder things while injured in the past. He can handle a seventy-mile hike. Yeah, he’s never done anything like this before. At least not before getting his powers, anyway. But he’s with Len, who clearly knows where they’re going, how they’re getting there, and safe places they can stop along the way. They have supplies, food, everything they need to make it without any real issue.... So why can’t he shake the growing feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach or the anxiety that’s coiling tightly around his chest while making his thoughts race? He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, as Len comes back in a moment later to grab more of their gear. He pauses a few steps into the living room, looking Barry over in that way he often does. Keen blue eyes scanning over Barry like he can read every thought the younger man is having. In a way, he’s certain the other man can read his thoughts, given how he reads peoples body language and expressions like a trained professional. “Everything alright, Barry?” The question is posed with a raised eyebrow and a relaxed posture, tone making it clear he knows something is bothering the young hero and that he’s not going anywhere until Barry talks. Barry tilts his head slightly at the use of his name, still not used to Len actually using it in a normal way and not saying it in a snide or teasing tone. “Yeah, just overthinking all this. It’s no big deal, really.” “Try and relax a little. If you work yourself up over all this it’ll just make things more draining in the long run. We’ll be fine. Think of this all as just one long camping trip. We’ll move at your pace. And don’t even think of trying to make yourself go faster or farther than you’re capable. I know you, Barry Allen, you always try to do more than is wise when you think it’s for the greater good. In this case, your health and safety, as well as mine, is on the line, and pushing yourself to breaking will do neither of us any good.” There’s a slight smirk turning up one corner of Len’s mouth as he finishes his little speech. Huffing something between a laugh and a sigh, Barry can’t help but smile back at Len. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you used to make fun of me for my motivational speeches?” Len chuckles at that, arms crossing as he gives a thoughtful look. “I did. But that wasn’t a motivational speech.” “Oh, really? Then what would you call that?” The smile on his face is slowly tugging into a full grin, and he can actually feel his anxiety melting away as they bicker a bit. “Reassurance and establishing a plan. I don’t do motivational speeches. Best to leave that to the heroes of the group,” he drawls, smirk turning into a matching grin before he uncrosses his arms and makes to pick up more of their gear to bring outside. “Hey, Len,” Barry starts, making the other man pause and look up at him with still somewhat mirthful blue eyes. “Thanks.” “Any time, Scarlet.” ~~~~~ POV Len ~~~~~ They’ve been walking for hours, Barry a few feet to Len’s left so his crutches won’t get in the way as they walk. It’s been slow going, but he managed to convince Barry to take some of the stronger painkillers when they stopped for lunch, and his pace has definitely picked up since. If Len’s math is correct, which it always is, they’ve been walking at roughly two miles an hour for the better part of the day. Which means they should reach their destination by around seven that evening, counting in the time taken to rest, and eat. The sun doesn’t set until almost ten at night this time of year, which he’s grateful for. The more daylight they have to travel by the better. Less chance of wolves following them. Not that he thinks that will happen, but again, he’s seen stranger things. Like a speedster inexplicably losing his powers and the cold gun dying for no reason his mind notes bitterly. He wishes they had some way to contact the Legend or Team Flash. Find out what the hell is going on here. But they can’t, so he’s left to ponder what the hell is going on while also attempting to keep the both of them safe on their lovely little hike through the Arctic circle in mid-April. He supposes it could be worse, they could have gotten stuck here in the dead of winter, when they would be lucky to have even five hours of daylight. He doesn’t even want to think about that, pushing the train of thought aside and focusing on the snow covered road ahead. The only ambient sounds coming from their panting breaths, the crunch of snow beneath their boots, and the steady drag of the sled over the snow behind Len. Once in a while, a crow calls out from a nearby tree, or a songbird chirps somewhere out of sight. It’s peaceful. Len is already sick of it. He’s had over a week of peace and quiet now. Far too long for a man who grew up in as busy a place as Central City. Even the WaveRider was never this quiet thanks to the other Legends puttering about at all hours. And even when it was quiet, he could simply ask Gideon to play some program to make it sound like he was back home instead of on a time ship in the middle of the temporal zone. “What were you planning on doing once you get back to Central?” Barry asks, providing a welcome distraction from the near deafening silence. Len glances over at him and sees that that Barry’s gaze is cast to the ground, watching his steps carefully as the snow is a bit high on this stretch of road. “Don’t know,” He drawls before grinning. “Maybe I’ll rob a bank. You know, for old times’ sake.” The look Barry shoots him in reply is clearly his best attempt at a glare, but with the flush to his cheeks from the mix of cold air and exertion, it falls flat. Len briefly wonders if his cheeks flush like that after he’s been kissed, but he shakes that thought away quickly. “Can’t you ever behave?” Barry asks, not really expecting an answer. “When properly motivated, or course. Otherwise, where’s the fun in behaving?” He counters, tone light, and teasing. “In all seriousness, though, I hadn’t really planned much beyond spending some time with Lisa and checking in on how things are at Saints & Sinners. Gotta make sure Charlie didn’t run the place into the ground while Mick and I have been away.” “What’s it matter if he did? I’m sure there are plenty of other seedy bars on that side of town you can play pool and eat french-fries at,” Barry points out. Len can’t help but huff a laugh at the remark. “It matters because it’s my bar. Mick’s and mine. We’ve owned it for nearly fifteen years.” He hears Barry stop walking and turns to face him, amusement growing with the look of surprise on the speedster's face. “Honestly, Scarlet, I’m a little disappointed you didn’t figure out on your own. For a CSI, you can be surprisingly oblivious to details right in front of your face.” Barry’s jaw drops at the jab and he scoffs indignantly before starting to walk again. “Alright, what glaringly obvious details did I miss that would have clued me in to you and Mick apparently owning a bar.” Chuckling, Len starts walking again as well before starting to rattle off some of the things Barry missed in his visits to the bar. “The liquor license on the wall behind the bar has Lisa’s name listed as the business owner. If you looked into the records of the place at all you would have seen everything is in her name. There are at least five framed photos in various areas of the bar with myself, Mick and Lisa in them. Including one particularly large photo directly behind the counter of all three of us that was taken on the day we bought the bar back in 2004.” Glancing over, he can see Barry’s eyebrows raising further in surprise with every new bit of information. “You personally have tracked me down there multiple times, and never once have I paid for anything in front of you.” “What about the time that waitress brought me a check for the dinner you left me to pay for!” Barry points out sharply. “She did that because I gave her the signal to,” Len counters easily with a shrug, not bothering to look back at the speedster now. “Good way to provide a distraction and make a quick get-away. If you had tried to follow without paying Charlie would have stopped you.” He hears Barry stop again and turns back just in time to be hit in the face with a well-aimed snowball. Unimpressed with the childish reaction, he wipes the snow from his goggles before pulling them off and squinting at the younger man in disbelief. “Really?” Barry’s grinning in satisfaction, crutches fallen to the snow at either side and hands held up in surrender. “Hey, you totally deserved that! That waitress tried to say my money was fake and threatened to call the police on me if I didn’t give her a credit card. Do you have any idea what kind of questions it would have raised if Captain Singh found out I was hanging around there.” “I can imagine a few,” Len muses. He swears the Captain of the CCPD either has to be more oblivious than Barry at times, or the man knows the kid is the Flash and is just playing dumb for everyone’s sake. Either way, he’s pretty sure if Barry got caught at a place like Saint’s he would just give the younger man a lecture about members of the police department not hanging out in places frequented by known criminals and leave it at that. A particularly strong gust of wind picks up then, and Len doesn’t miss the way Barry shivers from it. “Come on, let’s keep moving. It’s only about seven miles to the cabin.” “How do you know that? There are no markers along the road,” Barry asks as he carefully bends to pick up his discarded crutches. “Our average walking speed and the time we’ve spent walking works out to roughly two miles an hour, so we’ve gone about 9 miles since we left the cabin. It’s not that hard to figure out.” Len explains with a shrug as they begin walking again. “Your watch is dead, how are you sure about the time?” “I’m always counting seconds, Barry. Thought you knew that by now.” Len snorts. “Seriously? I know you’re always timing things but you’ve seriously been keeping track since we left this morning?” His tone is dubious and it makes Len want to chuckle. “Yes, seriously. That, and blowing up the Oculus seems to have had some minor side effects on my ability to perceive time. I can always tell what time it is, no matter where or when I am,” Len concedes after noticing the incredulous look Barry is giving him out of the corner of his eye. “If you don’t believe me you can ask the Legends when we get back to Central. Or have Cisco open up a breach to a random location and test me the old fashion way if you like.” “I’ll take your word for it,” Barry says slowly, like he’s not actually sure he believes Len. After that, they fall back into an easy silence that’s only broken when one of them hear something in the woods just out of sight. Neither of them actually sees anything though, so they brush it of as either falling snow or a small animal. Neither man notices the snowy white figure of a lone timber wolf watching from the shadow of a large tree not far behind them. ~~~~~ POV Barry ~~~~~ Barry can see the cabin in the distance, set back from the road by only about twenty-five feet, as they approach. It’s nearly seven at night according to Len, and he’s ready to drop this backpack and pass out . Everything hurts. Even with the pain medication that Len has insisted he takes every four hours like clockwork. Which, now that he knows that little detail about Len and time, he supposes that saying is a bit on the nose. In all actuality, his leg isn’t that bad. Though that might just be because the cold from the snow has seeped through his boot throughout the day and numbed his injured ankle considerably. He should probably be worried by this, but he’s just too tired to care. Besides that, his shoulders ache from leaning on the crutches. And his bruised and battered back feels tender, making him painfully aware of every little shift of the backpack he carries. He probably should have asked Len to stop. Should have rested for a while at least an hour ago. But they were so close, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop when they would get here so soon. So, he pushed on. Only stopping long enough to drink some gatorade and for the both of them to catch their breath a moment before moving on. It takes them about ten minutes to reach the cabin once it’s been spotted down the painfully long stretch of road, and Barry could cry from the relief he feels at having made it this far. It really hasn’t been that bad of a day, and he’s proud of himself for having made it this far. But he doesn’t know how he’s going to maintain a decent pace if every day is like this. The door of the cabin is locked, and Len waves Barry off when he suggests using one of his crutches to break a window. Instead, he produces a set of lock picks and kneels in front of the knob, and Barry lets his forehead smack against the door frame upon seeing them. Because of course, the man brings a lock pick with him to the freaking Arctic Circle. He finds himself smiling, despite also having the urge to smack his forehead on the door frame a few more times for dramatic effect. “Thought you knew me better than that by now, Barry.” Len teases, even as he’s pulling the picks from the lock and pushing the door open with a wicked grin. “Excuse me for thinking you might do something like a normal person for once in your life,” Barry says with a huff. Len’s face scrunches at that, mouth twisting up like he’s thinking about something unpleasant. “Being normal is vastly overrated.” With that, he’s up and walking into the cabin like he owns the place. Barry can’t help but laugh at the thief’s words as he follows him inside. “And you call Mick a drama queen.” “Mick is a drama queen,” Len says easily as he walks around the small cabin. It’s a single room. Bunk beds in one corner, a wood stove, fire place, table, chair, shelves, a dresser and an arm chair occupying the rest of the space. There’s a small crate beside the fireplace with some logs resting inside as well as an old newspaper with a few pages clearly missing. “I don’t suppose you’ll be vying for the top bunk any time soon?” The thief drawls as he steps beside the piece of furniture in question and looks it over appraisingly. He snorts and shakes his head in response before making his way over to the arm chair in the corner. It’s old, and incredibly soft beneath him as he sits down. A moment later he’s shrugging the backpack from his shoulders and letting out a groan at the relief it brings his aching body. Len rolls his eyes at him before turning and walking back outside to drag in their sled full of supplies. “I’ve never been so happy to sit down in my life,” Barry says loud enough to be heard through the open door. It’s true. His body aches all over, and getting to sit in the old chair is infinitely more comfortable than sitting on the ground or sled had been during the day. “I know the feeling,” Len empathizes as he steps back inside a moment later. The sled drags snow onto the carpet, but neither of them cares. It’s old and dirty and their boots dragged plenty of snow in already as it is. “You want dinner now, or should we wait a bit?” “Honestly, I’m more interested in sleeping than eating, but I probably shouldn’t risk the drop in blood sugar in favor of a nap.” He rationalizes. Len nods his understanding before crouching and opening one of the side pockets on the side of the duffle bag that holds their rations. He fishes something small out and tosses it to Barry, which he catches easily enough. “Found a few of those at the lodge, should hold you over until I can get a fire going and some real food made.” Len’s not looking at him as he explains, but Barry’s pretty sure he must be smiling from his tone. The thing he threw to Barry turns out to be a candy bar, a Snickers to be specific. It’s frozen solid, but he doesn’t mind at all. He puts it up the sleeve of his parka, hoping his body heat will warm it up enough to be easier to eat in a few minutes. “Thanks.” Len waves him off, too busy getting the few logs that were already in the cabin arranged in the fireplace so he can get them lit. The cabin is cold, but still much warmer than it was outside. So, it shouldn’t take too long to warm up once a fire is going. Barry takes another look around the small cabin as he shifts in the chair to get more comfortable. There’s a map pinned to the wall behind the table. A circle visible on the spot he assumes must be where the cabin is located. Its placement looks about right. Len had pointed to roughly where it was on the map he was leaving behind for the others at his cabin that morning. There’s also a layer of dust on everything. He can easily see motes floating in the light that filters in through the cabin windows. He zones out a bit while watching them, only snapping back to reality when he hears the crackle of a fire coming to life a few minutes later. When he looks over, Len is shrugging of his parka with a pleased look on his face. He likes seeing Len like this. No Captain Cold persona, no putting on a show for anyone who might be watching. Just the real Len, the one he had insisted from the start was buried somewhere under that cold exterior he showed the rest of world. That thought makes him groan aloud and sink further into the old chair, because of course, his brain would make an unintentional cold pun. He chooses to blame it on how exhausted he feels. Len’s giving him an amused and slightly curious look from where he’s moved over to work on starting a second fire in the wood stove close to where the speedster is sitting. Barry feels his cheeks heat in embarrassment when he notices the way Len looks at him. He pulls the candy bar from his coat sleeve and busies himself with unwrapping it and shoving a large bite into his mouth. No way is he filling the other man in on his thoughts just now. Nope. Not happening. He gets teased enough by the Rogue as it is. No way is he giving him the satisfaction. “A thought occurs,” Len begins, sparing Barry from the shame spiral he’d started to go into. “When you came running to 1892 to ask for my help with your little shark problem, you did so instead of simply calling the Legends because from your perspective I had already scarified myself. And you, as well as the others, all thought I was dead. Am I right?” Barry nearly chokes on the candy he’d been swallowing. He manages to compose himself a moment later, but he’s not sure how to respond. Apparently, his expression must give something away, because the curious look with which the other man was studying him has shifted to something more somber. “I thought as much. You all kept giving me this look. Like my presence, there was something to be sad about. I didn’t want to ask at the time because I figured I’d learn soon enough about whatever it was that made you all look at me like that.” The look on Len’s face grows grimmer as he speaks. It makes Barry want to reach out and pull him into a hug, but he isn’t sure how Len would react in this moment. So instead he settles for clearing his throat to get Len to look at him again. “If I had known you were alive, I would have come and found you. You know that, right?” The look Len gives him then is wary, like he isn’t sure he believes the sentiment. “That’s sweet, Barry. But we both know you had enough to deal with here, between your meta problems and trying to keep your friends and fiancée safe along with the rest of the city. I doubt finding me would have ranked very high on your to-do list given everything else you deal with in your day to day life.” “Iris isn’t my fiancée,” Barry blurts before he even realizes what he’s saying. “Come again?” Len asks, one eyebrow quirking up in surprise. “I was under the impression tha-” “We decided things would be better if we went back to being friends. Especially after everything that happened with Savitar. We really tried to make it work, but she was never really over losing Eddy, and I always felt like something wasn’t quite right between us once we finally got together. So, we talked things over and agreed we love each other, but were not in love with each other. Or at least I’m not in love with her like I was when I was younger, and she doesn’t really feel like she’s capable of loving anyone else like she loved Eddy. At least not any time soon,” Barry rambles on, feeling rather stupid about the whole situation. He’d meant to eventually tell Len what he’d missed while he was gone, but he hadn’t intended to just dump his reasons for splitting up with Iris on the other man like this. “That... That sounds like the plot to a seriously bad harlequin romance novel,” Len says after a long pause in which the two simply stare at each other. “Shut up!” Barry laughs. “You’re one to talk! Sacrificing yourself to save the universe and getting the dramatic kiss goodbye before your big death scene, only to survive and decide you’re better as friends once you find each other again sounds just as much like a bad romance novel as my situation does.” “Maybe, but at least my story would make a better movie,” Len quips easily, expression shifting back to something more relaxed with how amusing he finds the other man’s reaction. “Oh, please. Let’s be honest, they would both be terrible movies.” Barry scoffs. He feels like a weight has been lifted, a tension between them that he’d been unaware of up until now dissipating as they both start to laugh at the absurd turn of conversion. When they both settle, Len shakes his head with a slight smile on his lips and he turns to refocus on getting a fire lit in the cabins small stove. Barry watches him, content to be in Len’s company despite the bone deep exhaustion and urge to crawl into bed and sleep for a week. A companionable silence settles between them, only broken by the occasional question from Len as he makes their dinner. After they’ve eaten Barry gives in to the urge to sleep, and climbs into the bottom bunk with a tired wave and a mumbled goodnight to the other man. He doesn’t even wake when the first howls of the night being, much closer than they had been any other night since his arrival. ~~~~~ POV Len ~~~~~ Len stays awake until almost midnight, just listening. The wolves are much too close for his liking. So close he’s certain he saw the shine of eyes watching the cabin from deep inside the tree line whenever he looks out the window. More than once he catches himself eyeing the cold gun where it lays on the table beside some of their other gear. He had tried powering it up after Barry went to sleep. It was a pointless thing to do, he knows it isn’t going to work. Why would it? But he still had to try nonetheless. He has his .45 and three full clips plus another unopened box of ammo in with their other supplies. He’s not unarmed by any means. Though he is rather annoyed at Mick, as the pyromaniac was the last one to visit Len’s cabin, and he took the damn hunting rifle that was normally kept on the wall above the fireplace when he left. He likely had a good reason to, but he could have warned Len. It’s stupid to be this far north without a gun that can take down a bear. His cold gun would have been more than suitable for the job, but with it dead they really could be in big trouble if they run into anything bigger than a wolf. And even running into a wolf would be bad. Given that the ones indigenous to the area are the largest breed in the world. Their freaking head comes up to Len’s waist from what he’s seen, which is a touch unsettling when you’re just over six feet tall. Another howl sounds in the distance. It’s a long cry, joined by others in the pack from various locations out in the woods that run along the lakes edge. They’re likely hunting. Calling out their lack of luck. It’s a little surprising to Len. There are usually quite a few moose and caribou in the area, but they hadn’t spotted signs of any along the way here. He’s fine with that in all honesty. He’d like to see a moose about as much as he’d like to see a bear. Which is to say he’d rather never see either creature again for the rest of his life if he can help it. He’s never had the misfortune of running into a moose outside of a museum (it was stuffed, and hideous), but Mick has. The man had to climb a tree to avoid being trampled, and then the damn thing hung around below like it was waiting for him to come down. If Mick hadn’t started lighting matches and dropping them on the over sized deer’s back to scare it off, he could have been up there for days from the sounds of it. Len snorts a laugh at the memory of Mick recounting the ordeal to him. He still had pine needles and tree sap on his clothes when he made it back to the cabin that night. A snore from Barry rips Len from his memories, and he looks across the room to where the younger man is sleeping. He’s on his stomach, injured ankle sticking out from under the end of the blanket with a pillow tucked under his foot to keep it elevated while he sleeps. He looks a little ridiculous; long limbs splayed out over the twin sized mattress a bit like a starfish. Len feels a sort of warmth blooming in his chest when he looks at the sleeping speedster. It’s been there a while, how long he isn’t sure, but long enough that he isn’t startled when he feels it anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time. Usually, he ignores it, but knowing what he does now about the other man? Well, maybe his feelings aren’t something he has to ignore any longer. Because he does have feelings for the speedster. Strong ones. Has ever since he learned the man in the red was more than just a pretty face with a sharp wit. He really should talk to Barry about all this. Not that he’s going to broach the subject while they’re in this situation. It can wait until they’re someplace safe. Preferably with working tech and Barry’s powers back in full force. Another wolf bays somewhere close by, and Len’s attention is drawn from Barry to the window beside him again. He knows they can’t get into the cabin. That they’re safe in here. He still doesn’t like how close the pack of wolves has gotten, though. Dwelling on the fact is doing him no favors, so with one last look outside he throws another log on the fire before climbing into the top bunk and letting himself drift off to the crackle of the fire and the steady sounds of Barry’s breathing below. ~~~~~
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
~~~~~ POV Barry ~~~~~ The fire is still crackling lowly when Barry wakes up early the next morning. It leaves the air of the cabin pleasantly warm, if a little dry, and makes him want to stay in bed longer. Sadly, his body wants the opposite. He needs to take a piss, and his back is aching both from his injuries and from the way he’s had to sleep to avoid making them worse. Pushing himself up slowly, he slips out from under the blanket and twists so his feet are on the floor. It takes him a moment, but he’s able to carefully pull his boots on without fighting too much to get the otherwise tight footwear over the brace currently supporting his injured ankle. Once that’s taken care of, he does his best not to hit his head on Len’s bunk as he moving to stand. The other man is still sound asleep when Barry turns to look over at him. His features relaxed in a way he’s never seen before. Len almost always has some little smirk or frown gracing his handsome features. Or that blank mask he puts on in situations where he has to be Captain Cold , but not the roguish version that bickers with the Flash and makes puns while icing the floor so Barry skids into a wall when trying to stop him. Barry lets himself stare a moment longer, eyes lingering over Len’s slightly parted lips and the bit of stubble starting to dust his features, before he grabs his parka and crutches and makes his way to the door as quietly as possible. The door opening doesn’t seem to wake Len, and Barry is glad for it. He imagines Len probably stayed up for quite a while after he went to sleep, and dawn is only just breaking, so he couldn’t have been asleep more than five or six hours at most. The sky is a mix of orange and pink, the slight purple hue that comes before having almost vanished as the sun climbs higher in the sky. It’s so different from what the sky looks like in the city at this hour, and Barry can’t help but look up in awe as he makes his way to the side of the cabin that the outhouse is located close to. While he’s relieving himself, he thinks he might hear light footsteps in the snow outside. But the wind has also picked up a bit, and he brushes it off as his sleep addled brain misinterpreting the unfamiliar noises of nature around him. Until he opens the rickety wooden door to find a rather large gray and white wolf sniffing along the tracks he left in the snow. The wolf raises its head and looks at him with curious blue eyes before its ears flick back and start to flatten against its once again lowering head as its muzzle twists into a snarl. Barry freezes for a beat, startled and unsure if the creature is going to bark or lunge at him. He has just enough time to get the door slammed shut and turn to brace himself against it before there’s a harsh sounding snarl and then an impact against the wood from the wolf lunging and slamming into it. The wolf claws at the wood, then howls, then snarls and barks again before clawing and pushing at the door again. Barry slides down to the floor, shaking and practically in tears. Not from fear, but from the way his ankle flares in pain as he’s had to plant both feet against the opposite wall of the outhouse to keep the door closed behind him as the massive 114-pound animal tries to force its way inside. His back hurts almost as badly where the hard wood is pressing into his bruised back harder and harder with each attempt from the wolf to get at him The door actually shifts a little behind him from the force of the wolf pushing and clawing at it. A paw scraping at the wooden floor and a muzzle pressing into the slight gap from the door shifting open slightly. Barry shouts as he presses back hard, forcing the animal back and the door completely closed behind him once again. The whole ordeal doesn’t last much more than a minute before there’s a gunshot and a yelp outside the little wooden structure. For a moment the only thing Barry hears is the pounding of blood in his ears and his ragged breathing. The thunderous sounds of his own body fades out after a long moment, and he hears Len calling his name in an unusually worried tone as the world comes back into sharp focus around him. With a grimace and a small cry of pain he can’t hold back, he manages to relax his body from the position it’s locked itself into and he’s able to get to his knees before standing and pulling the door open half way. Len is just outside, feet bare in the snow, .45 in hand and raised in the direction of the trees somewhere to Barry’s right. There’s no sign of the wolf, but there is a blood spatter and trail in the snow leading off in that direction. The look of relief that washes over Len’s face makes Barry almost break down on the spot. Instead, he sags heavily against the door frame, suddenly not quite feeling able to hold himself up even with the aid of his crutches. “I’m alright,” he utters, voice wavering with the lie of the statement, before Len can ask. “I opened the door and it was just out here sniffing around. It didn’t hurt me, I’m alright.” Len nods, face going from clear worry to something more schooled and neutral. He takes a quick look around, clicking the safety of his gun, and tucking it into his pants. A moment later he steps forward and reaching out to help Barry when it becomes clear the speedster is hurting too much to move under his own power. “You’re lucky it was just the one wolf,” Len says, taking one of Barry’s crutches and leaning it against the outhouse to retrieve later before getting Barry to hook his arm over Len’s shoulders so he can support most of his weight as they slowly make their way back to the cabin. Barry can’t help the slightly hysterical sounding chuckle that escapes him. He doesn’t feel lucky by any means. His body is screaming in pain with every minute movement, and he feels completely drained. The adrenaline is already leaving his system fast and making him feel weak and shaky in its absence. The sidelong glance Len gives him in response to his little laughing fit speaks volumes. Once they’re inside Len gets him settled into the armchair in the corner, and before Barry can protest, he’s lowering the zipper on the side of Barry’s right boot and pulling it off, followed quickly by the brace underneath. His ankle is starting to swell again, and Barry winces and grunts in pain when Len starts to carefully prod around the bruised and sprained joint and tendons with slightly chilled fingers. “We’re not leaving until the swelling goes back down,” Len says, giving Barry a hard look that dares him to try and argue. Barry holds his gaze a moment before sighing and sinking down a little in resignation. “Yeah, alright.” He doesn’t think he could bring himself to move any time soon anyway, despite his desire for them to leave sooner than later. He’s worried more wolves could come by once they smell the blood in the air. But he knows Len is just looking out for his wellbeing. Len nods and carefully sets Barry’s foot on the floor before turning and moving to rummage through their supplies. He pulls the first aid kit from the backpack Barry had carried the day before, and after a moment of rummaging, he turns back with one of the pill bottles in his hand. He shakes out two small white pulls and hands them to Barry, who takes them reluctantly before watching the other man turn to dig through their duffle bag full of food next. He turns back with a granola bar and the half-empty bottle of Gatorade Barry had been sipping the day before and holds both out with a raised eyebrow at the confused face Barry is giving him “I don’t need to take this much,” Barry protests as he eyes the two oxycodone pills in his hand warily. He had only been taking half a pill at a time the day before, and he remembers taking whole pills after having his wisdom teeth pulled as a teenager. They made him loopy then and he can only imagine what two would do to him now. “Just take the pills, Barry,” Len tells him with a tired sigh. “A sprain can hurt worse than a break, and from the way you reacted to my barely touching you, I think now is the time to start medicating yours accordingly,” he adds as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at Barry with clear annoyance. “We’ll wait until the swelling has gone down and the pills start to wear off before leaving. You can cut it down to one pill at a time after that, alright?” Barry takes one more look at the pills in his hand before sighing and downing them with a sip of the blue Gatorade Len handed him. Just to be a smartass he sticks is tongue out at the Rogue after, which earns him an eye roll in turn. “You realize I’m going to end up high as a kite for the next few hours because of this.” Len snorts at that as he turns to put back the pill bottle and first aid kit. “So, go back to sleep for a few hours until they wear off? You should elevate your ankle in the meantime anyway.” “Like I’m going to be able to sleep after a wolf just tried to eat my face,” Barry grumbles as he looks down at the granola bar in his hand and fidgets with its wrapper a bit. His hands are shaking a little from the drop in adrenaline, and maybe a bit from hypoglycemia, but he can’t be sure at the moment. He looks up again when Len begins to speak next. “Either way we aren’t leaving for three or four hours, so you should rest while you can.” Len closes his eyes a moment and brings a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose as he exhales slowly. “Look, I know you don’t like it, but you can barely stand, and if we try to leave before the swelling goes down and you’ve been able to give yourself a rest, it will just get worse.” The concern in his eyes is clear when he opens them again. “I know. I’m not arguing with you. You’re right, I don’t like it, but I get that we need to wait,” Barry agrees, eyes leaving Len’s to look down at his hands where he’s continued to fidget with the granola bar wrapper to the point of the ends being torn in multiple places. “I’m serious about not being able to sleep though.” When he looks up again Len is giving him one of those mostly blank looks he gets when trying not to show how he feels about something. It makes Barry feel a bit uncomfortable, he’d rather know what Len thinks than be on the receiving end of one of those looks. They’re mostly silent for the next half an hour after that, Barry nibbling on the granola bar, then a bowl of oatmeal the Rogue had prepared in the meantime. By the time he’s finished the pain medication has fully kicked in and Barry feels pretty good. Enough so that he wonders why he’d been wary of taking the medication in the first place. ~~~~~ POV Len ~~~~~ “I always figured you would be a happy drunk,” Len notes an hour later as he watches Barry absently play with the cowl from his Flash suit. He took it out of the pocket of his parka about twenty minutes ago and has been just messing with the removable little lightning shaped coms pieces on the sides ever since. At one point he had also removed the lightning bolt emblem from the chest of his suit and was trying to spin it on his fingertip, but that didn’t end well. Len took it away when it almost rolled into the fireplace (not that it would burn given it’s made of similar material to the suit, but still). The speedster has a dopey grin on his face as he looks up at Len’s words. “Duuude, I haven’t been drunk in yeeeeaaarrrrsssss,” Barry notes with a giggle. “This is soooo not like being drunk,” he adds with a shake of his head as he clicks the little golden lightning bolt back onto the left side of his cowl where it belongs. “No, I suppose it’s not,” Len concedes with a smirk before hopping off from his seat on the edge of the table to stroll over and stand beside the bunk beds, where Barry is currently laying. “Feeling cognizant enough to play a game of cards? Or are you too far into pink elephant land to focus that long?” Barry blinks up at him before giggling again and scratching absently at the stubble that’s started to grow out along his cheek and jaw. “Did you just make a Dumbo reference?” Len feels the corner of his mouth twitch and resists the urge to full-on smile. “I did have a childhood you know, however short-lived it may have been.” “I bet you were cute as a kid,” Barry speculates with another dopey smile and laugh as he starts to slowly get up from his position sprawled out on the lower bunk bed. Len can’t help but snort a laugh at that. He remembers Sara and Kendra’s reaction to seeing him as a baby and doesn’t doubt for a moment that Barry would have a similar reaction. “Adorable. Now, do you want to play poker, or something easy like go fish?” He asks as he helps the speedster to his feet and then over to the armchair. “Poker,” Barry says with an exaggerated nod. They end up playing go fish instead when it becomes clear that Barry can’t focus long enough to keep track of his hand or who’s winning. Two hours later Barry’s head has cleared considerably, and his pain is at a manageable level. They’re out and back to walking down the road by 10:15. They won’t be able to make it to the nearest set of buildings, a logging camp Len passed on his way to his cabin, which is almost thirty miles away from their current location. He had hoped to get more than halfway there today. It’s not a huge setback. They’ll just have to walk a bit later into the evening today and tomorrow to make it work. Despite his concerns, Len is surprised to find that Barry is keeping a good pace. He speculates it has to do with the medication and the bit of extra rest he got this morning. He also suspects that because of what also happened this morning, it won’t last. They’ll stop for lunch around one in the afternoon and rest a little longer than they had the day before, then start walking again at a slightly slower pace. Hopefully, that will help keep the speedster from running out of steam too quickly. Len chuckles at his own train of thought, causing Barry to glance over at him before looking back down to focus on where he plants his feet in the ankle-deep snow. He didn’t expect much more in way of a reaction. The younger man has been a bit more reserved since the effects of the medication he took this morning wore off. Probably feeling a bit embarrassed by how chatty and ridiculous he was being under its influence. It made for a nice little distraction from the seriousness of their current situation, in all honesty. It’s a bit daunting to think that it would take them several more days to reach Deline. That’s more time with the potential to run into bears, wolves, and other wildlife that might think them a meal or threat rather than something they should run away from. In any other situation, he wouldn’t worry about it much. But given that he’s only armed with a .45 and a hunting knife, he finds himself more on edge than he’d care to admit. And when you factor in that Barry is not only powerless but injured, that just adds another level of anxiety and concern to the mix that he hadn’t anticipated. He’s been able to stay fairly calm and rational about everything thus far, but after this morning? He isn’t sure how he’ll handle any more possible encounters with the local wildlife. Not when it’s Barry that’s in danger and not just himself. The way he felt finding that wolf attacking Barry this morning... He hadn’t felt that kind of fear in a long time. Not since he learned Lisa had a bomb in her neck courtesy of their twisted excuse of a father. Not even facing down death at the hands of his best friend or sacrificing himself made him feel fear like that. Shaking his head, he stops that line of thought in its tracks. He refuses to go there. Lewis is dead. Lisa is fine thanks to Barry and his friends. And what’s happening now has nothing to do with any of the other thoughts that have come to mind. Now isn’t the time to get sentimental about things. It definitely isn’t the time to dwell on how afraid he was at the thought of Barry being seriously injured or killed by that wolf. “Hey, look at that.” Barry’s soft voice cuts through the silence, drawing Len’s attention to him. He’s pointing off into the tree line ahead and to their left. There’s a pair of caribou walking through the trees some eighty feet or so away. Both men pause and watch a moment. Len has seen the animals before many times, but he figures Barry probably has never even seen any large animals that weren’t part of a petting zoo before this little field trip. The look on the speedster’s face seems to confirm that suspicion. He’s smiling brightly, green eyes glued on the animals that are currently paying them no mind as they slowly make their way towards the direction of the lake. Probably looking for areas where the snow has begun to melt to graze. “Come on, we’ll likely see more before this is all over.” The look Barry gives him is a bit disappointed, but he nods and starts walking again without complaint. Len feels a little bad, but he wants to put more distance behind them before this day is over, and stopping to watch oversized deer isn’t conducive of their plan. “Do you think whatever happened to take out my powers and our gear only happened in this area, or that it was more widespread?” Barry asks after they’ve been walking in silence for a while. Len hums in thought, mulling over his answer before speaking. “I think whatever it was had to be pretty powerful. Especially given that it’s been three days, and your friends haven’t shown up to retrieve us yet. So, it’s likely that it at the very least had some kind of lingering effect on the area. You said before that Cisco can open portals, correct?” “Breaches, yeah,” Barry corrects, glancing over at Len to meet his gaze. “Right, well, maybe whatever happened here doesn’t simply affect your powers, but other Metas as well? He knew where we were and didn’t simply open a breach to retrieve us when it became clear we weren’t coming back. Maybe he can’t for the same reason you can’t connect to the speed force?” Len speculates. He honestly has no idea if his reasoning is sound. He doesn’t know any of the science behind Cisco’s powers, and he only understands the bare minimum about Barry’s. So, this is all theory without fact at the moment. “Maybe. If it’s some kind of energy field that suppressing my connection and keeping our tech from working then it could feasibly stop Cisco from opening a breach. He manipulates electromagnetic frequencies to open them. He might still be able to use his other abilities to see what’s happening with us though. He can get these visions he calls Vibes, where he can see people or places. He can also use them to see into other dimensions and even the future some times.” “Sounds like quite the party trick,” Len drawls, making the younger man huff a laugh. “It’s pretty cool honestly. Cisco’s become a total badass since discovering his powers. You should see him in action. He’d give you a run for your money.” There’s a note of pride in Barry’s voice as he talks about his best friend, and it makes Len smile. “Maybe I should rob a bank when we get back, after all,” Len can’t help but tease. Barry gives him a far from scathing glare that has Len chuckling at the speedster. “I kid. I’ll behave myself. Legends honor.” The look Barry gives him at those words is skeptical, but he smiles at them after a moment nonetheless. Being on the receiving end of that smile never fails to make Len feel warm. A small part of him balks at how ridiculous it is to be reacting like this at his age. But another greedier part of him soaks it up and enjoys every moment. He lets himself give a brief smile in return before facing forward again and focusing on where he steps. The stretch of road they’re on is overshadowed by tall evergreens on either side, and they’ve kept the snow from melting much. There’s also a decently sized snow drift taking up part of the otherwise flat terrain. Barry is walking in the area where the snow is only a few inches deep, but Len is walking where it goes to mid shin and is uneven to give the ailing speedster the easier path to follow. ~~~~~ They only make it about eleven miles that day. Not nearly as far as Len would have liked, but Barry is clearly exhausted, and there is a clear-cut area that will serve nicely as a campsite for the evening. There are stumps all around they can sit on, which is a nice change from freezing their asses off in the snow, and there is a massive pile of brush on the far edge of the clearing from where branches had been stripped from the trees that were cut down and trimmed for transport. While Barry digs out a place in the snow for them to set up a fire, Len drags over several large branches that still have their needles on them to create makeshift mats for their blankets and sleeping bags to rest atop. It’ll be much warmer than laying directly on the snowy ground. Probably not very comfortable though. By the time Len has come back with a decent armful of wood they can use to start a fire, he finds that Barry has not only gotten their bedding situated, but he’s also dug out some stones from under the snow and made a circle with them in the fire pit. The speedster is sitting on a stump close by, humming some old tune Len recognizes but can’t place to himself as he digs through the contents of the duffle that contains their food. “Why is there a rubber duck in here?” he asks as he holds said toy up with a truly confused look on his face. Len shrugs as he comes to a stop beside the fire pit and lets the wood in his arms drop to the ground with a resounding clatter. “Found it in a cupboard in the lodge while I was looking for supplies. Thought it was amusing, and I was waiting for you to find it and be as confused as I was.” “Have I ever told you I find you both fascinating and seriously weird?” Barry muses as he studies the rubber duck a moment before shaking his head and tucking it back into the bag with a smile. “The two tend to go hand in hand in my experience, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” Len says, tone all mock sweetness as he bats his eyelashes at the speedster. It earns him a laugh in return and he can’t help but grin in response. “How’s the ankle?” Barry’s face twists into something akin to a scowl for a moment before he sighs and reaches down to gingerly rub at the injured area over his boot. “It’s alright. It hurts, but it’s not as bad as it was this morning.” Len nods, understanding that this has to be frustrating for the younger man. Aside from the times he’s been severely beaten from a fight, this is probably the longest a somewhat average injury has had him laid up since he was struck by the lightning four years ago. “We’ll take it slow tomorrow and stop whenever you need. Once we get to the logging camp there should be a landline set up that we can try to contact help from.” The look on Barry’s face is more somber now as he nods his agreement. “And if it isn’t working like our gear?” “Then we keep going. Once we reach the logging camp it’s only another twenty miles or so to Deline. Even if whatever caused this is affecting the town as well, we’ll at least be somewhere with other people, which gives us a better chance of making it out of this in one piece,” he rationalizes as he crouches and starts arranging the wood and kindling into a halfway decent structure for starting a fire. The sigh that comes from Barry has Len looking up and eyeing the speedster, who is shaking his head and dropping the duffle full of food on the ground before bringing both gloved hands up to run through his hair. “I’m sorry I’m being so negative about all of this. I feel like we’re living through some kind of freaking apocalypse or something here. I mean, this is insane. Logically I know there has to be a scientific explanation for everything that’s happening, but I’m drawing a blank. I’m a chemist, a forensic scientist, I made a living out of examining details and finding evidence, but I can’t find any evidence of whatever is causing all of this. It’s just so frustrating...” Before he even realizes what he’s doing, Len is up and standing in front of Barry, his hands going to the other man’s shoulders and making him look up to meet Len’s gaze. “It’s fine, Barry, really. I get it. I’m sure if you don’t figure it out your friends will, if they haven’t already. Just... Try not to worry about it for now, okay?” Len gives his shoulders a gentle squeeze before pulling away and moving to return to the task of getting a fire ready. Something stops him, though. There’s a hand on his wrist, which he blinks down at before turning his head to face Barry again. “Thanks.” Is all the speedster says, giving his wrist a small squeeze before letting him go. His tone is warm, and it makes Len want to turn back and do something he really shouldn’t right now. Instead, he lets his gaze slip to the speedsters lips a moment before he simply nods and goes back to work on getting a fire going. ~~~~~ POV Barry ~~~~~ It’s late, the sun having only set maybe half an hour ago. They’ve been hearing howls off and on since well before then, the wolves extremely active tonight. Len had assured him it was normal. That they probably found something to eat and are either hunting it or calling each other to dinner. That doesn’t make Barry feel any better, but Len went and got extra wood to make sure they had a big enough fire and that they could keep it burning all night and hopefully keep the wolves away without issue. He’s currently curled up in his sleeping bag, a blanket thrown over the top as Len sits on the edge of the makeshift mat of his own sleep space opposite Barry’s. The fire is set between them, and Barry watches Len through the flickering flames. They make the blue of his eyes look so much darker, and Barry wonders if Len is aware of Barry watching him rather than sleeping. The hood of his parka is pulled over his head, brought down at an angle closet to his nose to mostly cover his eyes and face so that he doesn’t feel as much of the cold air as well as blocking out some of the glow of the fire. He considered moving to face away from it, but he would have to get up and flip his sleeping back so he could stay laying on his left side, and he really doesn’t have the energy for it. Hell, he doesn’t even have the energy to be awake still, and yet here he is, gazing at Len from under the furry edge of his parka hood as his mind drifts to that Christmas when Len had broken into Joe’s house and Barry found him sitting in the glow of the fireplace drinking cocoa out of the absolutely ridiculous novelty reindeer mug he’d bought Joe when he was a kid. His mind drifts further through the memory all the way to the moment when he’d had the thief pinned to the wall, when he notices Len looking up at the sky with wide, awed eyes. He turns his own head, hand coming up to push the hood of his parka out of the way. The first wisps of color from the aurora are weaving their way through the darkened sky above. It takes a moment, but Barry pushes himself up to sitting, hands blindly reaching for the zipper to the sleeping bag so he can turn and sit in a more comfortable position as he looks up. “Wow...” he breathes out as he watches the spread of wavering colors above. It starts with green, then pink, followed by reds and purples and eventually streaks of blue. “You know, the aurora is caused by the charged particle from solar flares colliding with atoms and other molecules in the thermosphere. The color depends on what the charged particles interact with and their position in the atmosphere. Greens and yellows are from Oxygen, and pinks, reds, purples, and blues are caused by the various forms of Nitrogen.” Barry explains as he looks from the sky to Len, who is still looking up at the swirls of color above with a hint of a smile on his face. “Learn something new every day,” he drawls, gaze finally lowering to meet Barry’s. Then his expression goes from open and relaxed to that stone-like mask that makes Barry instantly feel cold all over as Len looks somewhere past the speedster. He slowly raises one hand in a signal not to move while the other moves to draw his gun from the shoulder holster under his parka. Barry turns his head slowly in the direction Len is looking, dread taking hold at what he might find. He hadn’t heard anything approaching, but he also hadn’t been paying much attention for the last few minutes. The crackle of the fire is fairly loud, and he‘d been so enamored with the aurora that he didn’t really think to keep his guard up. At the far edge of the clear-cut, he sees the shine of multiple sets of eyes peering out from the shadows. At least three wolves are watching them, and they’re far too close for comfort. About sixty feet give or take. Slowly, Barry starts to scoot closer to the fire, body inching off his makeshift bed and onto the cold snow. He has Len’s hunt knife strapped to his leg, but he’d rather not get close enough to have to use it. Instead, he slowly reaches for one of the thicker branches that are only half inside the fire. “Don’t make any sudden movements,” Len says in a hushed tone, drawing Barry’s gaze back to him. He’s drawn his .45, finger clicking the safety off before he raises it so the muzzle is pointed high above both their heads, aimed at the treetops above where the wolves watch them. A second later there’s a near deafening crack of a gunshot in the otherwise silent night, and instead of scaring the wolves away as it should have, Barry watches with wide eyes as the three canines come bolting out of the darkness and into the clearing. Barry yanks the burning branch from the fire as he forces himself to stand, his ankle sends a hot spike of pain through his leg at the sudden movement, nearly bringing him to his knees as he stumbles back around to stand beside Len. The wolves don’t run straight at them, choosing to break off and start circling them. All three are moving slowly now, two of them growling and the third tilting it’s head like a curious dog might. Len takes aim, firing at that one and hitting it square in the chest. It yelps before it falls down, dead a moment later. The other two growl and snarl, one snapping at them but now stopping it’s circling while the other pauses and lets out a howl. “Are they rabid?” Barry can’t help but ask. He's never heard of wolves acting like this. “I don’t know, not exactly my area of expertise,” Len grits out, gun aimed at the wolf closest to him. Barry holds out the flaming branch, ready to swing if the wolf on his side decides to lunge. There’s another howl to his left, and when he looks over he sees the shine of more eyes approaching. Three more wolves join the two still circling them, the lot only maybe fifteen feet away from them at most now. One lunges, in the confusion the new group of canines brings, just catching Len’s left arm with its teeth before Barry can turn and strike at it with his flaming makeshift club. Len cries out at the same time as the wolf and it scampers back after flailing in the snow as Len stumbles into Barry’s side. When Len looks him in the eye a moment later, he sees a flash of something he can’t quite read before the man whirls around, dropping his .45 in the snow, and pulling his cold gun from its holster on his thigh. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” Barry yells right as one wolf makes a run at him and two more take a run at Len. There’s a whir of a familiar sound and then a blinding blue-white light as the two wolves are sent flying back, covered in a thick layer of ice that kills them instantly. Barry knocks the wolf lunging at him in the head with his club, momentum of the swing sending the wolf sprawling one way and causing him to stumble back the other and fall to the ground by Len’s feet. When he looks up, he sees Len, cold gun in hand and a grin on his face as he spins in a circle on the spot, firing a beam of cold energy that hits one more wolf and sends the others running into the woods and out of sight. A beat later the gun powers down and the grin slips from his face as he curses and runs around the fire to where their gear was resting beside a stump. The arch of the beam from the cold gun hit the sled when he turned to shoot the still circling wolves. The back half of the sled and its contents are covered in a layer of thick ice. “What? How? WHAT THE HELL!” Barry stammers out after a moment, shock wearing off. Len turns to face him as he holsters the cold gun and walks back around the fire to help Barry up and onto one of their makeshift beds. “Your eyes. They crackled,” he explains as he helps Barry get seated. “They did?” He asks, utterly confused for a moment before he realizes what Len means. He focuses for a moment, feeling his connection to the speed force flowing through him for the first time in days. A moment later it’s like time has frozen around him and he can’t help but shout in joy at the realization that he does indeed have his powers back. He drops back to regular human speed a moment later and grins up at Len, who gives him a confused look in return. “Quick, grab your Sat phone!” he says in a rush as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cowl to pull on. Len nods quickly, going over to their half-destroyed gear in the hopes the phone escaped the fate of half their supplies. Once his cowl is on, Barry clicks the lightning bolt on his left ear. It chirps as it comes to life, but all he gets is static in response to the channel opening. He clicks it a few more times, trying to get it to connect to the signal from the satellite. “Guys, can you hear me? Hello? Cisco? Caitlin? Anybody?” There’s a louder crackle a moment later and a garbled hint of something that sounds like Cisco’s voice. “Cisco! If you can hear me, we’re heading for a town called Deline!” After that all he gets is static and he keeps trying the reset on the coms and repeating himself in an attempt to get the connection to go through again. Something breaking draws his attention away from the static in his ears, and he looks up to find Len holding what looks to be half of his satellite phone in one hand. “It’s useless. Destroyed along with the lantern, at least half of our food, and the rest of my ammo. Oh, and I don’t think the back half of the sled will survive the thawing process.” Len grunts angrily as he kicks said sled, causing a large crack to erupt through the ice as a result. “We won’t need it by tomorrow morning anyway. Once my leg is healed I’ll be able to run us out of here,” Barry says as he keeps fidgeting with the reset of the coms. He at the very least can send out a ping to the satellite this way that will help the others find them. Len gives him a dubious look, lips pressing into a thin line as he comes to sit beside the speedster. He lets out a heavy breath through his nose, eyes momentarily closing before he opens them and beings to speak. “You know my motto, Barry. Make the plan,-” “Execute the plan, expect the plan to go off the rails, throw away the plan. Yeah, I remember. The plan already went off the rails, Len. And yes, I realize that it could go off the rails again before this is all over. But I have my powers back and your gun is working. That’s got to count for something,” Barry argues. He feels like he has too much energy now, feels the need to run. It’s so strong he’s practically vibrating. But his ankle isn’t healed and he can’t. So, he pulls off his cowl and starts fidgeting with the coms emblems. “Yes, it does count for something, but the fact remains that we just almost became dog chow to a pack of wolves that acted nothing like any pack of wolves I’ve ever seen before. Excuse me for being skeptical that things are suddenly going to be all sunshine and rainbows from here on out.” Len speaks in that snarky drawl that’s both infuriating and alluring, and Barry wants to smack him upside the head and kiss him all at once. “Well then what do you suggest we do?” he asks, looking Len in the eyes once more. The Rogue’s eyes flick back and forth, seeming to study Barry’s face a moment before he seems to come to a decision and pulls his cold gun from its holster once again. “Ever been inside an igloo?” Barry can’t help but bark a laugh at the absurdity of the question. “Of course not.” The grin that splits Len’s face is almost comical as the older man stands and powers up his gun once again. The whir of it powering up along with the bright light it emits catches Barry’s full attention, and he watches as Len points it at an area of the ground nearby. He fiddles with the settings a moment before firing. It takes a moment, but a layer of thick ice starts to build up, and Len starts to slowly move the gun. It takes several minutes, but he eventually ends up with a rough, and rather large, an approximation of an igloo surrounding their campsite. There’s a decent sized opening in the top, allowing the smoke from the fire to exit and the heat being trapped inside to not melt the structure around them. If he’s being totally honest with himself, Barry is in total awe as he watches Len use his weapon for something so... well he never would have thought to use the cold gun for something like creating a shelter. It’s impressive. And a hell of a lot warmer once Len is finished. He’s about to thank the other man when he sees him grimace as he lowers his arms. A second later he’s sitting down in the snow close to Barry, his hand reaching out to steady himself and leaving a smear of blood when he pulls it back. Both men see the blood at the same time and before Barry can ask if Len is alright, he’s stripping out of his parka and sweater, both of which have holes and tears from where the one wolf had bit into Len’s arm. There are several gashes and puncture wounds in Len’s bicep from where the wolf had managed to clamp down before Barry hit it with the burning branch not even twenty minutes prior. Barry reaches out and carefully turns Len’s arm so he can get a better look in the firelight. The bleeding has already slowed, and none of the wounds look particularly deep, but they still look like some could use stitches. “We need to get these cleaned up.” Len only grunts in response and pulls his parka back onto the half of his body that isn’t injured. He watches Barry warily as he grabs one of his crutches and hobbles over to where the backpack with their medical supplies is resting by his sleeping bag. He’s back a moment later, supplies out and a gauze pad covered in rubbing alcohol in hand. Len keeps giving him this strange, uneasy look. Like he’s unsure about Barry being so close all of the sudden. When Barry gets the majority of the blood cleared from the other man's arm he understands why. There are a number of scars littering Len’s skin. Some long and thin like from some kind of cut, others looking to be from burns. All pale enough from age to contrast the otherwise warm undertone of his skin. He remembered reading about them in the Rogues police file years ago, and the scar Lisa showed them when explaining about their father, but it’s different seeing Len’s scars in real life. Swallowing hard, he tries not to stare or think about it. “You know,” he begins, mindful of his work as he continues to clean the wounds and ready them to be bandaged. “when I was a kid my mom would sing to me whenever I got hurt. It helped distract me from how much I hated being patched up.” Len snorts at that, then flinches when Barry starts to clean a deeper gash. “Gonna sing to me then, Scarlet?” he asks, voice a bit pinched as he tenses further under Barry’s gentle hands. “I could, if you want,” he offers. He isn’t sure what else to do to make this easier. He doesn’t want to remain silent. Not when Len is clearly uncomfortable to begin with, and far from relaxed. “I’ll pass, thanks.” The look he gives Barry as he declines is just a hint playful. “You’re loss, I’m told I have a great singing voice,” Barry notes lightly with a shrug before deciding that he’s cleaned out the wounds as much as possible with the supplies he has. He turns back to the first aid kit, pulling out more sterile gauze packets, tape, and an ace bandage. He also finds a package of steri-strips and a pair of scissors he can use to close up some of the worse wounds before bandaging over the area. “I once got trapped in a dream world with my friend Kara by an extra-dimensional being called Music Meister. He stuck us in a musical. The only way out was to play along with the story until the end,” he recounts as he starts the slow process of patching Len up. “Sounds like a bad acid trip,” Len mumbles as he watches Barry work on his arm. He's started to relax a bit, which was what Barry was hoping would happen by sharing this little story. “It felt like one at times. It was crazy. But also kind of fun when we weren’t fearing for our lives.” He looks up then, giving Len a small smile before looking back to the task at hand. “I should really introduce you to Kara when we get back to central. You’d like her. She’s a hero from Earth 38.” “What’s with you and traveling to all of these other dimensions?” Len almost sounds bored as he asks, but Barry knows it’s just him messing around now that he’s starting to relax and feel more like himself again. “To be fair, I ended up on her earth by accident. Going to Earth 2 and Earth X were totally different situations.” Barry’s almost finished with Len’s arm by now, just needing to tape on the gauze then wrap it in an ace bandage to keep it all covered and secure. “Sure...” Len drawls with a smirk and a shake of his head. “Hurry up. It’s late and the sooner you get to sleep the sooner I can wake you up for your turn to take watch.” Barry playfully smacks him in the side of the head for that, grinning at the scandalized look he gets in return. “Don’t be impatient.” Len scoffs at Barry’s teasing words and looks up as he waits for Barry to finish patching him up. The opening in the icy dome of the mock igloo is more than big enough for the aurora to still be visible above. When he’s finished, Barry reluctantly climbs back into his sleeping bag and settle in so he’s looking up at the aurora. He watches the colors swirl and dance across the sky until his eyelids grow too heavy to keep open any longer. The fading streaks of color the last thing he sees before sleep takes him.