Chapter Text
Barry wrapped his arms around Len’s waist more tightly, pressing himself closer as the motorcycle wove through Central. Every second brought them closer to wherever it was that Lewis chose as his base of operations.
He was pretty sure Len chose the long way, and not just as a way to ensure that they weren’t being followed. Not with the way Barry felt tension building in the other the longer they rode.
It took some doing, but the speedster managed to suppress a sigh. Len’s reactions made him hate Lewis even more than he already did ever since seeing Len’s scars all those weeks ago. He tried his best to ignore the feeling—’furious’ wasn’t exactly the best frame of mind to have walking into...wherever they’d be meeting. Especially since the stakes were so high.
Once he and his friends had figured out what Lewis did, who he was using as leverage, Barry had promised himself—and Lisa—that he wouldn’t screw this up. That he’d find Len and do what he had to in order to keep the other safe and buy the necessary time for Cisco and Hartley to get the bomb out of Lisa’s neck. He’d follow Len’s lead and avoid any ‘dumb heroics’ that’d put their lives in even more danger. He got it.
...Mick forcing him to repeat the phrase for a good five minutes was totally unnecessary.
But keeping it all in mind didn’t really help. Barry ached. He hated that Len was in this situation in the first place, but knowing that his father was the cause of it all made it so much worse.
The bike coasting to a stop in the alley brought Barry’s attention to his surroundings. Len cut the engine and dropped his feet to the ground but made no move to engage the kickstand. He slowly pushed himself upright, shifting his weight to lean against Barry, who held the thief more tightly and waited.
“Last chance to change your mind. You should take it. Run and never look back,” his voice was quiet and flat.
“Not gonna happen,” Barry said quietly. He felt the other tense up even further, which was so not his goal. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against Len’s back.
“I promise I won’t...if it all goes too far sideways I’ll use my powers and get us out of there. You said the heist’ll be tomorrow night, right? That’s more than enough time for Cisco and Hartley to figure it all out and make sure Lisa will be safe. Until then I’m not—you’re in charge. I’ll keep my head down and follow your lead.”
“Good. Run through it all again.”
Barry managed not to roll his eyes even though Len wouldn’t be able to see the expression. It wasn’t like he could possibly forget everything they just talked about so quickly, and the little show of exasperation would only make Len think he wasn’t taking it seriously—he was. The whole exchange was just so...Len.
Repetition was one of the thief’s coping mechanisms, along with honing his internal clock with scary precision, and use of a sharp ‘Mick!’ to remind himself and the pyro of their surroundings. Going over his plans, hearing them aloud, helped Len identify potential weak spots or think of even more creative and meticulous ways to reach his goal. It didn’t matter that the treasure he set his sights on this time had nothing to do with a pay day.
“I’m Sam. Hacking got me kicked out of three different universities—changing transcripts, messing with exams, and ‘improving’ ongoing research data. You and I met when we both set our sights on the same bearer bonds that mysteriously went missing from the headquarters of Chicago Federal Bank a few years ago,” Barry recited, breaking character to add, “definitely not the ones some ‘mystery’ investor redeemed in Central last year.”
“Of course not. Keep going,” there was a hint of smugness teasing along the edges of Len’s response.
“You were gonna ice me out until I pointed out that the alarms were disabled and the security cameras looped courtesy of my tech. Getting rid of me wouldn’t be easy—I’m pretty stubborn—and by the time you managed it my programs would’ve self-destructed, leaving your exit caught on camera. Not to mention setting off the alarms and getting the guard’s attention. A fifty-fifty split seemed fair to me, but you managed to talk me down to thirty-five percent since your partner was our getaway driver. I got the slightly bigger share for managing to beat you at your own game.
“After that you brought me in on a handful of commissioned ‘acquisitions’ in the Midwest, mostly here in Missouri, but there were two other jobs in Chicago,” Barry finished.
“What else,” Len prodded.
“I won’t mention Mick or Lisa or the Rogues or The Flash unless he does, and even if he does I play dumb.”
“And when he starts in on me?”
“I’ll stay out of it,” Barry said, hating the idea but trying to sound unaffected.
“Mmhm. Know it won’t be easy for you, Scarlet,” Len said.
He sighed heavily, nodding even though Len wouldn’t see the gesture. That was an understatement—he knew Len wanted a promise of some sort, but Barry couldn’t bring himself to lie about something so important. He’d do his best, though.
“I know,” Len said, almost like he heard Barry’s thoughts on the matter. But he chose not to call Barry out on it, bringing the bike back to life. The sound of the engine almost drowning out his quiet “thanks.”
All too soon they were pulling up next to the loading dock of a warehouse in desperate need of a new coat of paint unless the owners actually wanted it to turn into a huge pile of rust. Barry climbed off the bike when Len nudged him, watching the other maneuver the bike until it was mostly hidden by the structure itself.
“Toss me the bag,” Len said.
Barry shrugged the strap off his shoulder and complied, watching him wedge the bag containing the Flash suit into the overhang itself.
“It’ll be safe there for now. Once the old man passes out you’ll be able to bring it inside.”
Len didn’t wait for Barry to react, quickly heading through the door and into the dim interior of the warehouse. The speedster took a deep breath and let it out slowly before following Len into the gloom.
“About damn—who’s this?” Lewis demanded, drawing himself to loom over Len when they got close.
They were almost the same height, Barry noticed. But where Len exuded grace and confidence to give him a larger than life presence, his father relied on bulk and an aura of menace. Barry decided the only reason the man succeeded in looking intimidating was the way Len shrank in on himself as soon as Lewis opened his mouth.
If he hadn’t already loathed the man on principle, the first impression would’ve been more than enough to sway Barry’s opinion. Rather than wait for Len to make introductions, Barry took a few steps forward and extended his hand, “Lenny said you needed a tech guy. I’m Sam.”
Lewis seemed to accept the story he and Len—mostly Len—came up with. It had taken some improv, though, and he may have taken some credit for helping Len steal the Kandaq Dynasty diamond from the museum. It was even technically true—even if the help Barry gave had more to do with running interference and making sure no civilians got hurt when someone derailed a train.
He did his best to avoid Len’s eye when he went off script. He had a feeling that seeing Len’s reaction would’ve made it really hard to keep a straight face...or his complete lack of reaction to something that normally would’ve earned Barry at least a smirk.
Lewis waved him towards the blueprint-covered table in a cleared section of the warehouse and began outlining a plan even Barry recognized as pretty pathetic. He hadn’t bothered with much beyond the basics—finding out where the vault was, its make, the fact that a security presence existed, and a way out. But that was it. No idea how much of the building was covered by the cameras, how long it took CCPD to respond...not even how frequently guards patrolled the floors. The whole thing basically hinged on the cold gun.
Even if they somehow managed to get in and out without running into any guards, there’d be so much evidence left behind that even the laziest of his colleagues at the CCPD would be able to follow it straight to Len.
Len’s thoughts on the matter were pretty obvious, despite doing his best to avoid angering the man. He carefully offered alternatives—a route to the safe that building security overlooked, outlining patrol schedules and routes for the guards, and a number of other blind spots they could easily use to their advantage. But each time he tried Lewis cut him off and shut him down.
The worst part was that Barry couldn’t really do anything about it, not even with his powers. The way Lewis wouldn’t listen, didn’t even let Len finish a sentence—not even to avoid needless confrontations or casualties...he nudged Len’s shoulder with his own more than once, wanting Len to know he wasn’t alone, that Barry trusted his insights and valued his judgment.
Barry wasn’t sure how long it took for Lewis to get tired of listening to his own voice, but it happened eventually. Len was in motion as soon as he did, heading for the door.
“C’mon Sam, time to get those uniforms and ID’s,” Len called over his shoulder. “You wanna boost the van?”
“Not so fast,” Lewis interrupted. “Last I checked that’s not a two-man job, son. Run along. Me and Sam are going to get to know each other.”
Barry stopped in his tracks, skin crawling. Len’s shoulders tightened but he kept going without comment.
Well, shit.
He wanted to spend as little time with Lewis as possible, and as much as he hated the idea of Len having to be around the man, Len had been just as adamant that he hated the idea of Barry getting involved, and that he’d do his best not to leave Barry alone with his father. He’d kept repeating it while they ate.
Normally Barry would’ve rolled his eyes and reminded his boyfriend that he could take care of himself, but Barry had a feeling that Len was making the promise to himself instead of questioning Barry’s skills.
Either way, the speedster wasn’t too worried for his own safety, not with his powers. Barry could easily shrug off whatever Lewis used to knock Lisa and Len out. Even if the man had another bomb on hand, he’d never get a chance to implant it.
Besides, Barry had enough experience dealing with bullies and other obnoxious assholes to know how to keep his distance. He could totally hold his own in a fight without his speed, thanks to all the sparring Mick insisted on. And ok, Oliver would totally still be able to kick his ass, but there was no way Lewis had his friend’s skill or discipline. But other than poking around the warehouse, there wasn’t a whole lot else for him to do other than wait.
Barry’s luck ran out after about half an hour. He got a little too into examining the blueprints for ways to minimize risks to the guards since Cisco wouldn’t be in his ear to give him directions until he put the Flash suit on. On the plus side, there were plenty of offices and closets for them to duck into if they came across a patrol, or if the guards needed to take a little...nap.
At least he wasn’t cornered, although Lewis tried his best to pin him against the table.
“So Sam, tell me again: how’d you get into the game?” Lewis practically whispered into his ear.
“It’s like I told you before—hacking for fun turned into hacking for profit and it grew from there. Why should I settle for a consulting fee if I’ve got the skills for a full share,” he said, stepping sideways so he could turn to face the other man without having to touch him.
“Not what I meant, pipsqueak,” Lewis looked him up and down slowly, toying with his belt buckle, making sure he had Barry’s attention before undoing it. “I saw how my son reacted to you. You one of his whores? Thought I beat it out of him. Must be a good lay for him to bother remembering your name.” A cruel sneer twisted his mouth, “skinny twink like you must get off on it, bending over for the boss. He ain’t the boss here, I am,” Lewis drew a gun and jammed it into Barry’s ribs. “You want in you gotta earn it. On your knees.”
“I don’t fucking think so,” Barry spat, holding his ground.
“Gonna need to prove you’re worth keeping around, kid. If you were any good at stealing, I’d know.”
“Yeah, right. The only people you hear about are the ones sloppy enough to get caught, or careless enough to leave a body count,” he glared and stood taller. “The reason Len keeps me in mind for his crews is cuz I’m neither,” the venom in his voice was enough to force Lewis to take a half-step back. “I’m good and careful. You don’t want me involved? Fine. Good luck getting past the Draycon without me.
“You’re just some washed up dirty cop that got pinched. I don’t owe you anything,” Barry finished, crossing his arms for emphasis.
Lewis didn’t lose the sneer, but Barry could tell he was backing down. It figured—bullies had a habit of giving up at the first sign of resistance.
“I don’t answer to some snot-nosed brat like you, Sam,” he rallied, surging forward to grab the front of Barry’s shirt and used the leverage to shove his back into the table. “Get in my face again...”
Len stormed into the room, door slamming behind him. He flung a sack onto the table—probably the uniforms—narrowed blue eyes fixed on his father, “Problem, gentlemen?”
“Not your concern, son. Just making sure Sam learns his lesson,” he shoved Barry once more for good measure and let g, turning to face the interruption.
Barry could tell the moment Len spotted the asshole’s unbuckled belt—he...shut down, eyes going dead and jaw so tight Barry was worried he was going to crack a molar. Barry wasted no time—forcing Lewis to stumble as he shouldered past, making sure he made the last move.
No matter how much he wanted to head over to Len, Barry knew he couldn’t—not without giving Lewis even more leverage. He had to keep walking deeper into the building and hope the bastard left. Once they were alone he’d be able to reassure.
The crap Lewis spewed hadn’t bothered him, not really. Ok, that was a lie. He was furious with the man and his disgusting...everything. But he’d heard worse from some of his less evolved co-workers until one of them slipped up in front of Captain Singh. But that look on Len’s face—gone in an instant, of course—god.
He knew Len was already blaming himself.
Len risked a glance at Barry’s retreating form—just a second—before returning his full attention to the miserable excuse for a human being in front of him. Staring him down.
He wouldn’t flinch, wouldn’t look away first. Refused to show any sign of weakness.
Seconds ticked by—one hundred and forty-six of them—before Lewis ended their standoff. Got his coat, snagged the keys to the beat up sedan he made Len steal a couple days ago and slammed the door on his way out in a pathetic attempt at making a point.
Waited to hear the engine turn over and the sound of the car to fade into the distance before allowing himself to move.
Len hated this—the whole damn thing. Hadn’t wanted—Barry never should’ve had to deal with his old man...never should’ve known how he and Lise—what they put up with until they were able to make a run for it. It took every fucking thing he had in him not to beat the shit out of his father when he saw—when he realized what the bastard must’ve demanded. What he thought he could do…
Fucking hypocrite.
Took every opportunity to teach him ‘lessons’, kick and hit and punch and cut the gay out of him long before Len had the hormones to give a thought to preferences. But of course that didn’t stop the asshole from trying to make Barry—Because he could; based on nothing. An assumption.
“Hey.”
He jumped at the sound of Barry’s quiet voice.
“D’you think I can go grab some supplies and stuff for us or not yet?”
He swallowed, forced himself to meet Barry’s eyes—owed him that much—only to be completely blown away by the warmth in his hazel eyes. Managed a short nod, not trusting his voice.
“‘K. I’ll be back in a flash,” Barry wagged his eyebrows at the pun, “text me if you’ve got any specific requests.”
He watched the yellow lightning dissipate, then scanned his surroundings for a tight spot. Somewhere more secure, somewhere to...hide. Didn’t help much with his father, not even when he was little, but it soothed some of his anxiety.
Hopefully it’d be enough for him to get himself sorted without an audience...not that Barry’d be gone long. Lewis, on the other hand, probably wouldn’t stumble in until the following morning. If they were lucky. If they weren’t...a short bender still lasted an average of five hours.
Len sat heavily on a stack of palettes, head bowed, hands hanging between his knees. His eyes were open, but his focus wasn’t outward. Shit like this was why he wanted to keep Barry as far away as possible. Why Len didn’t want him involved.
If only...if only he hadn’t gone to Saint’s, hadn’t let the speedster talk him around. Kept a closer eye on his surroundings so the bastard hadn’t been able to grab them in the first place. Fuck. He should’ve known. Should’ve heard the asshole was free. If he knew...he and Mick would’ve gone hunting and that’d be that.
Instead…
Shuffling footsteps—Barry’s footsteps—drew Len’s attention, eyes coming into focus as the other stamped out his smoking shoes.
He was at a loss—what was there to say to someone—his partner—after what that man tried to do. A tiny part of him was surprised Barry came back.
But here he was, carefully lowering a pair of duffle bags to the concrete floor and closing the distance between them. Sitting close, but not too close.
Not close enough.
Figured. Len didn’t—couldn’t—blame him.
“Hey,” Barry finally spoke, scooting a little closer. “You ok?”
Len scoffed, “should be asking you that, Scarlet.”
“I’m fine. Pissed off at Lewis, but fine,” Barry waved a dismissive hand.
Len sighed. Tried to come up with something—anything—to say but kept coming up blank. Hadn’t even realized he moved until a lean arm wrapped around his waist and he gave into the urge to lean into Barry. Drawing comfort from his warmth—much more than he deserved—and twisting around until he could drop his head to Barry’s shoulder.
“Well...now you’ve met dear old dad,” he drawled with a self-deprecating smile.
Barry snorted, lips brushing against Len’s forehead. “Could’ve been worse—at least he didn’t shoot me.”
He knew Barry wasn’t joking—knew it wasn’t funny—but a short bark of laughter escaped anyway. Leaned back enough to look Barry over. The other seemed ok. Really ok, not putting on an act, but he still had to know, needed to ask, “he didn’t…?”
“No. I didn’t give him the chance,” Barry’s expression was serious, managing to pick up on everything Len wasn’t able to put into words.
“Good,” the thief felt his shoulders loosen up, enough to sag into Barry a tiny bit more. Letting himself relax as some of the tension he’d been carrying around since he woke up in the warehouse dissolved. He wasn’t alone...didn’t have to shoulder it all himself. Exhaustion seeped in, feeling the weariness all the way into his bones.
“Ok,” Barry gently nudged Len until he sat up. “Time for you to get some sleep.”
“Is it now?” He managed a smirk.
“Yup,” the other’s tone was decisive. “There’s a couple camping mats in the bag. Blankets and pillows, too. Somehow I doubt you’ve slept much since…” he trailed off. “I’ll keep watch.”
Glanced down and away, oh so tempted. He knew he needed some rest—otherwise he’d be useless. Except… “what about you?”
“I’ll wake you up in six hours if you insist, but I’ll be fine without a whole lot...I can stretch time when I sleep, so no big deal.”
“You say like it’s nothing,” Len huffed out a laugh, nudging the speedster.
Barry rolled his eyes and nudged back, getting up and extending a hand. “C’mon Len, up. Is this a good spot?”
Len turned the question over in his mind. Didn’t want to back them into a corner, but somewhere more sheltered meant they’d be harder to sneak up on...easier for one of them to cover.
“I take it you’re gonna insist?” It was more statement than question, and he wasn’t expecting an answer. Just wanted—needed—to keep the banter going. Pretend it was a normal job as he gave the area a closer look. The aisle next to the office would do. Solid wall on one side, forklift rusting behind and tall stacks of pallets to make up the other side. Wouldn’t take much time for them to move another stack over in order to partially block the way in and serve as a perch for Barry to keep an eye on things. “This way.”
Barry followed Len as the thief strode through the warehouse, one bag in each hand. He figured they were heading for the office and it threw him when Len kept going past the room like it wasn’t even there. The dusty aisle he stopped in front of didn’t look anywhere near as appealing.
“Here?” Barry’s question echoed his confusion.
“Mhm. Plenty of cover and more than one way out. Go grab my gun off the table and hang onto it. Dear old dad won’t bother you that way,” Len replied, voice matter of fact. Like it was something he’d had a lot of practice relating when it came to Lewis.
The thought that Len had so much practice needing protection from his father made Barry’s heart hurt. It also made him want to punch things.
He put down the bag with the camping supplies and took off before Len could see any of that in his expression, taking a minor detour to the building they were targeting to hide his Flash suit. There wasn’t anything Barry could do to take away the scars that asshole etched into Len so far, but he’d do his damndest to make sure the bastard wouldn’t get the chance to inflict any more.
It took less than a heartbeat for him to tuck the suit away—the amount of dust in the hiding spot made him confident it wouldn’t be found.
The added jaunt didn’t take long, but it did give Barry enough time to pull himself back together. He skidded to a stop on the concrete floor next to Len, depositing the cold gun on top of a tall stack of crates and helping him move them until about half of the opening was covered. The end result was an almost-room—one easy way in and a bunch of other options to get out if someone was determined enough. Rather than waiting around or slowing down, Barry used the last of his momentum to inflate the camp mattress and pillow. He did have to slow down in order to make the bed since singed blankets kinda sucked.
Len, however, had other ideas. He took the bag from Barry’s unresisting grasp, selecting his own bedding and making the bed.
Once everything was settled Barry stood there. He knew what he wanted to do, he wanted to hug Len. Like, a lot. And not just because he thought the other could really, really use one—he needed the physical contact too.
Since Lewis pointed it out, the speedster realized just how much he and Len usually touched. It was something he hadn’t realized he missed while Len and Lisa were gone, but now that it’d been called to his attention it was so hard not to reach out. Especially since they were alone. The fact that said touching also tended to help Len relax was just an added bonus.
The only problem was that he had no idea how Len would react to the gesture...or how to approach him to ask.
“Do you mind if I…?” Barry trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.
“What, Scarlet?”
“Can I...can I hug you?”
Len looked startled at that, blinking. He quickly recovered, opening his arms for Barry who practically flashed into them and latched on tight.
“I was so worried,” Barry breathed into his shoulder. “When you took off, and then nothing and you were over a day late, and god—when Lisa came and found us in Jitters…” he sighed and squeezed tighter, arms still nowhere near as tight as the hold Len had on him. Len almost collapsed into Barry and the speedster could feel him shaking.
“Hey, it’ll work out. Cisco’s nearly there, Len, I promise.” Barry rubbed his back in soothing circles. “Why didn’t you let me help from the start?” he asked quietly...even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.
Len shook his head against Barry’s shoulder. “Later. I can’t...later, Scarlet.”
Barry hated how unsure Len sounded, “it’s gonna be ok. Sleep now?”
Len took a deep, shaking breath and nodded. He seemed really reluctant to let Barry go.
“I’ll be right up there. No way he’ll get past me.”
Len nodded curtly, arm darting out to and grabbing him, pulling him into a desperate kiss. Licking into his mouth, mapping the contours, devouring him. The kiss ended just as suddenly as it began, leaving Barry a little dazed when he pulled back and turned on his heel.
Len quickly shrugged out of his leather coat and toed off his boots, settling under the blankets. “Six hours, don't forget.”
“I won’t. G’night Len.”
He pulled up the blanket and gave into the urge to tuck Len in, Then he scrambled up onto his perch to keep watch.
So far Lewis’s sloppy plan had gone about how Barry expected—pretty badly. At least they got the van parked without any trouble, but as soon as they entered the building it became obvious that Lewis had nothing to do with Len’s success as a thief.
For real, though. They barely made it into the building before it all started to go sideways with malfunctioning key cards. Had he known that whoever was asked to make them had the hacking skills of, well, Joe, Barry would’ve taken the five minutes to make some himself. Even better, the bastard was ready to start shooting—going for his gun in full view of the camera pointed at the entrance and the street until Barry stepped it. Puppy dog eyes and some mutual griping about technology and shitty bosses got them in without any bloodshed, but it was a close thing.
Their disguises as the cleaning crew worked well—as long as they looked like they knew where they were going the guards they passed on the way up to the floor with the vault ignored them. But that’s where their luck ended.
There were two guards patrolling the floor...which they should've expected. Had expected, really. Lewis just hadn’t cared.
Given the way he already had his gun in hand, the lack of caring hadn’t changed. Barry needed to do something, but with Lewis’s attention fixed on the guards there was no way he’d miss Barry using his powers.
“I told you we should’ve gone the other way,” Len growled.
Lewis rounded on him, “this way’s faster. Time for plan B—I’ve got it all figured, son. You never did bother with alternatives.”
“I don’t need ‘em because I do my research.”
Barry tuned them out, taking advantage of Lewis’s distraction to zip the guards into a nearby storage closet where he gently knocked them out and stole the batteries from their phones and radios. “They’re gone now, must’ve turned,” he interrupted the argument.
“Must have,” Len drawled, eyes fixed on Barry.
“All worried about nothing, son. Since when do you give a damn about getting your hands dirty, anyway?” Lewis didn’t bother to wait for an answer, leading the way to the vault door. “Show me what you got, Sam.”
“Of course,” Barry stepped up to the door, situating himself in front of the keypad. “Uh, you guys might wanna keep an eye on things in case the guards come back, this won’t take long,” he hoped.
Barry waited for Lewis to stop staring at him before getting started, using his speed to punch through all the possible combinations on the number pad until he hit the right one. That was the problem with Draycon’s systems—no shut down or cool off period, no matter how many times you entered the wrong code. It wasn’t long before the keypad flashed green and he felt the lock mechanism disengage.
“Told you Draycon was my jam,” Barry spun around with a grin.
“Nice job, Sam,” Lewis stepped forward to open the door. It swung open silently and he stepped into the doorway, turning to face them, “always good to go out on a high note.”
Barry didn’t even have time to wonder when Lewis grabbed the gun, eyes going wide at the sound of two shots being fired in rapid succession.