Whumptober Prompt #3- Delirium And Alt. Prompt #10 Nightmare

Whumptober Prompt #3- Delirium and Alt. Prompt #10 Nightmare

Hey guys!  Me again!  I have no idea how long my blog will stay unflagged but... I’m trying my best here.  I’ll link it to AO3 so you can read it there if you can’t see it here.  Until I inevitably get flagged again, enjoy some Coldflash.

AO3- https://archiveofourown.org/works/20886941

Len soaked the cloth back in the water basin he’d grabbed.  Barry moaned, trying to fight Len off but his arms were so weak, Len easily pushed them back down.

“Hush, Barry, it’s okay.”  Len said, trying his best to be soothing.  “This will help you.”

“So cold.”  Barry whined at him through glazed eyes.  Len doubted he had any true idea where he was or what was going on.  Barry hadn’t even recognized him yet and it had been two very long days.

“You’re too hot, Barry.”  Len murmured, as even for a speedster, his fever was way too high.  When he’d first agreed to do this, Dr. Snow had explained to him that a speedster, due to their biological makeup to accommodate that kind of speed, ran at a higher temperature than normal humans.  She had told him to add an extra two degrees to what was considered normal, as Barry’s usual resting temperature was one hundred degrees.

Barry closed his eyes again, fading back into unconsciousness.

Len was tempted to call Dr. Snow again but she still couldn’t do anything, not with the rate this disease could spread.  When he had first returned to Central City after basically being blown up and reconstituted, looking for a certain speedster to remind him of what was normal and what he knew, Flash hadn’t been out to play.  That had frustrated him.  Yes, he liked it when he got the money he wanted but the thrill was part of the game.  He wanted to toy with Flash, gamble with his life, always wanting to one up himself and Flash.  After three heists with no sight of the speedster, he had gotten fed up with being ignored.  So he went Star Labs, blaming his back-from-the-dead experience for his impulsivity, denying to himself that he could potentially have missed Barry, storming the Cortex, demanding to know why the great Flash was no longer paying attention to his number one nemesis.  He had found an unconscious Barry on a medical bed, and Dr. Snow and Cisco Ramon in Hazmat suits with thick gloves hovering over him.  They had explained that a disease, specifically designed to only affect metahumans, had been released by the latest Big Bad, a doctor who had lost a child to Zoom’s metahumans terrorizing Central City.  But when Flash had taken him down, he had been exposed to the airborne virus.  And since both Dr. Snow and Ramon had the metahuman gene, as Killer Frost and Vibe apparently, they couldn’t help him without risking exposure.  The virus worked fast, as Barry’s healing had been working overtime, leaving him going in and out of consciousness, unable to retain information.  If they were exposed, the virus would kill them before they could do anything to stop it.  That had also frustrated Len.  Saying that Barry would owe him a favor, Len had offered an old safe-house of his, one he actually owned and could sacrifice, saying Mick would love to see the old place burn. That way, they could actually focus on finding a way to cure the virus instead of fumbling around in Hazmat suits and Barry would be in a place that wouldn’t expose anyone else, as Len wasn’t a metahuman.  He hadn’t been expecting it, but Team Flash had been desperate enough to agree to it.

That had been two days ago but it felt like a week.  Barry’s fever hadn’t gone down the entire time.  He’d barely slept or ate, as getting Barry to eat or cool down was nigh impossible.  Dr. Snow had given Len very specific instructions on how to take care of Barry, including the few antivirals they had, but nothing she gave him was working.  So he had resorted to trying to cool the speedster down manually, for lack of a better word.  Dr. Snow had told him an ice bath would be too risky, as it could actually increase body temperature and if Barry’s body slowed down due to the cold, the virus could kill him faster as his healing factor, the only thing they truly had going for them right now, could cease entirely.  So cool water, not cold water, and washcloths since Barry was clearly in no state to take a bath on his own.  Len did the best he could as more and more time went by as Dr. Snow and Ramon went without calling with a cure.  The antivirals weren’t helping him, his healing was in overdrive, his fever was sky high, and he couldn’t keep a thought in his head for any length of time.  He was starting to get scared.

“Hey.”  A small voice brought him out of his thoughts.  Barry was awake again, staring at Len in confusion.

“Hey yourself.”  Len said, laying another washcloth across his forehead.

“‘M I dreaming?”  Barry murmured, glazed eyes staring into Len’s soul.

“No, you’re not.”  Len answered.  If this had been any other situation, he would’ve teased Barry but Barry’s mind was unable to process teasing so he didn’t.  “But you do owe me one.”

For some reason, Barry smiled.

“Yo-r alive?”  Barry whispered, his hand gently reaching for Len’s face.

Len was too stunned to to stop him and Barry gently cupped his face, though it was as graceful as a smack in the face.

“You’re alive.”  Barry looked on the verge of tears.  “Said you died.”

Len realized that the Legends must have told Barry of Len’s death before they found him again.  He had been dead for about six months after all.

“I’m alive, I’m right here.”  Len said.  “I just need to cool you down.”

Len wrung out another washcloth, hoping to wipe away some of the hot sweat Barry was soaking into the sheets.  Barry hadn’t let go of him yet.  When the first drops of cooler water hit Barry’s skin, he hissed.  “Cold.”

“It’s not, Barry.”  Len repeated, continuing his work, wiping down Barry’s collarbone and chest.  “You’re just too hot.”

“Hot?”  Barry frowned.  “Where’s Mick?”

“Probably off saving the timestream.”  Len replied, torn.  This was the longest conversation he had had with Barry since this whole thing started, but he certainly wasn’t coherent for the damn thing if he thought ‘too hot’ meant Heatwave.

“Save… save city.”  Barry said, his grip on comprehension loose.  “Too cold.  Too hot.”

Barry smacked him in the face trying to get up.  Len pushed him back down.

“City’s already saved.”  Len said.  “It’s okay, you did it.”

“Did it?” Barry asked, his green eyes wide, trusting and fevered.

“You did it.”  Len assured him.  “Stopped the bad guys.  Saved the city.  Everyone’s okay.”

“Dreaming.”  Barry slurred, tears welling up in his eyes again.  “Have to be dreaming.”

“Dreaming what, Barry?”  Len asked.

“You.”  Len stopped.  He hadn’t been expecting that.  “Not okay.  You’re gone.  My fault.  You’re gone and you’re not coming back.  Miss you.”

“You miss me?”  Len asked, floored.

“Want you back.”  Barry kept going.  “Miss your voice.  Miss your eyes.  Miss you.”

A few tears slipped out.  Len gently brushed them away with his thumb.

“I… missed you too.”  Len admitted.  With Barry as he was, he stood no chance of remembering anything Len said.  Might as well speak the truth.  “I missed you a lot.”

“You did?”  Barry asked, his tearful eyes glistening.

“Traveling through time is… incredible.”  Len said slowly.  “Seeing things I never thought possible.  I was a cowboy, a spy against Russia, and hell, apparently, even a bomb to stop the Time Master assholes…  But as much fun as I had, stealing from everyone, breaking out of prisons, and saving the world from a homicidal maniac, I always wanted to come home.  To you.”

“Love you.”  Barry’s eyes fluttered, his crying spell having taken all the energy he had.

Len stared in shock as Barry fell back asleep.  Len had to be dreaming.  Having a nightmare.  Or the virus fried his brain.  No way he could’ve just admitted that he loved Len.  It was impossible.  They hadn’t even been dating.  Sure, yes, they had a relationship filled with bantering, and trust, and an… admitted very unusual amount of sexual tension.  But so many Heroes had that with their nemeses.  Batman has Catwoman, he’d met Selina Kyle briefly once, she was just like him, and Green Arrow had slept with more than one of his villainesses, if Sarah’s account was to be believed.  And Len, while maybe not as much of recurring villain as Reverse Flash or Zoom, was Flash’s number one nemesis.  He had the ultimate blackmail on him, he had betrayed him before, though, only to have Barry come back to him once again.  However, that had not been his fault.  Lisa had gone to Team Flash for help, not him.  And when he trusted Barry to save his sister, when he didn’t kill him on his father’s orders, despite the risk to Lisa’s life, it had been because he believed Barry could save everyone that night.  And yes, he had approved Barry as a visitor when he was in prison for his father’s murder, but that was simply to thank the man for saving his sister.  That couldn’t have been because Barry was in love with him.  Barry was like that with others who he saw good in.  It hadn’t just been him.  It couldn’t have just been him.

Len started counting seconds, one of his main ways to get out of a panicked spiral.  Whether Barry loved him or not, he still had a job to do.  Barry loving him made no effect on making sure Barry didn’t die.  When he had first offered this safehouse, he had already known in his mind he would do whatever he could to help Barry.  Besides, he couldn’t get a proper answer out of the hero unless he survived, mental faculties intact.  He needed himself out of his anxiety, so did Barry.

Once he’d gotten himself back in control, he realized the washcloths now matched Barry’s temperature.  So he got himself back into his task at hand, taking care of the speedster.  He replaced the washcloths, and replaced the pillow underneath Barry’s head, wanting to throw the pillowcase in the laundry.  The sheets were next, as Barry’s sweat had soaked through them.  Len worked meticulously, thinking only of his duty and not dwelling on anything personal.  As he finished putting the sheets in the laundry and setting the washer, he returned to Barry.

Barry was squirming with what little energy he had, moaning almost incoherently.

“Barry, it’s alright, you’re alright.”  Len murmured, in the voice he used to comfort Lisa back when they were children.

“Snart, no, no please,”  Barry moaned.  “No, no, no, don’t, don’t, please.”

Of course he was dreaming about Len.  Made sense given his fevered brain was trying to process seeing what he considered a dead man.

“Wake up, Barry.”  Len whispered.  “You’re okay, wake up, Barry.”

Barry’s breathing picked up at Len’s voice, and his face screwed up in pain.  “Come back, don’t leave me, please, Snart, Lenny, Lenny!”  His legs kicked out, tangling the sheets, his arms weakly reaching out in random directions, as if grasping at air.

“Barry, kid, wake up!  Wake up!  It’s just a nightmare!”  Len shouted, trying to shake his shoulders.

“NO, LEN!”  Barry came awake with a scream, jolting up in bed.  Len caught him by the chest, with Barry sinking into him as he became conscious.

“It’s alright, Barry, you’re alright.”  Len whispered, reaching out and petting Barry’s hair.  It was sweaty and greasy, but Len’s fingers were almost on fire at the feeling.  He felt a desire previously unknown to him ignite, one he’d worked so hard to hide from others and from himself.

“Snart?”  Barry asked, sounding coherent but exhausted.

“Call me Len, kid.”  Len mumbled into Barry’s ear, thinking if he’d admitted to loving the criminal, he may as well call him by his first name.

“You’re alive?”  Barry asked, and Len knew he was back to square one.

“I’m alive.”  Len stated simply, fighting the urge to burrow into Barry’s hair and never come out.

Barry didn’t say anything else and neither did Len.  Neither moved.

Len’s phone rang, startling them both.

“I have to answer that.”  Len said, gently setting Barry down on the bed.  “News?”

“We have a cure.”  Dr. Snow sounded as exhausted as Len felt but triumphant.  “We’re almost at your place.”

“I’ll be by the door.”  Len said, hanging up.  They had previously “met” there before, to give Len more antivirals once Barry had already gone through his first regiment.  They’d dropped it off on the doorstep and Len had only opened the door after they were back inside their van.

Len waited by the door, just in case.  Dr. Snow and Ramon arrived within five minutes, hoping out of their car.  They dropped a small package and a small note on his doorstep before running back to their car.  He snatched it up without further ado.

Snart-

This cure should absolutely work for Barry, I designed it specially for him, and I tested it on samples of his DNA that we’ve used in the past.  But since this cure is for Barry alone, we can’t give it to him ourselves.  I haven’t designed a cure for all metahumans, the virus keeps evolving to affect certain powers differently, so if I get infected, we’re back to square one.  Call me immediately, I’m still waiting outside.  I’ll walk you through administering it.

Caitlin Snow

He did as she asked, and she gave him exact step-by-step directions he followed to the letter.

“How will I know if it works?”  Len asked, once the cure was in Barry’s sleeping system.

“His fever should break within the hour.”  Dr. Snow replied.  “He should become lucid after that.”

“Great.  You’ll take him after that then, I’m sure.”  Len sighed.

“Actually, I’m not so sure.”  Dr. Snow said hesitantly.  “Because this thing evolves so quickly, I need to make sure that Star Labs is cleared before we bring him back.  If another strain has evolved that I can’t fight, we’re back to square one.  And I’m not even sure when exactly Barry won’t be contagious anymore.  I needed to focus on curing Barry before this killed him before I worried about how long someone could be contagious.”

“So how long do I have to keep him here?”  He asked.

“One more day and I should have all the answers I need.”  Dr. Snow said.

“Well that’s just peachy.”  Len muttered, but part of him was thankful.  He could easily corner Barry and get the answers he needed out of him, as he literally couldn’t leave.

“If someone else needs to come in and watch him-” Dr. Snow started.

“No,” Len sighed, “I’ve already come this far with his shit.  You’ll just owe me another one.”

“Snart-” Dr. Snow said.

“Relax, doc,  I won’t hurt him.”  Len said, dipping back into his Captain Cold voice.  “I can handle one more day.  Oh, and order me some food.  You’re buying.”

“Fine.”  Dr. Snow huffed.  “Is Big Belly Burger okay?  Barry needs a lot of calories to regain his strength.  More so than a normal human.”

Len agreed, rattled off his order, and hung up.

After waiting for forty agonizing minutes, and after finally dragging himself away to  make himself a cup of coffee, Barry finally woke up.

“Snart?”  Barry muttered, sitting up slowly.  “You’re alive?”

“For the millionth time, yes.”  Len said, easily slipping back into Captain Cold.  “And you’ve saved the city, Mick isn’t here, and no, you’re not dreaming.”

“I take it we’ve had this conversation before.”  Barry said.

“Perhaps once or twice.”  Len said.  “How are you feeling?”

“Um, like jelly.  Actually like jelly got hit by a truck”  Barry replied, as if testing out his body for the answer.  He finally began to realize his surroundings.  “Why?  Wait, where am I?  When did I get here?”

“Your friends dropped you off, don’t you remember that?”  Len said, deciding to screw with him a bit.  He had certainly missed it.  “Something about being unable to resist my charms anymore and them giving me a gift for coming back from the dead?  I mean, why do you think you’re not wearing pants?”

Barry sputtered, as red as his suit, looking outraged.  “That didn’t happen!  Now what really happened, Snart, or I’m going to run right back to Star Labs.”

“You’re so easy to toy with, Scarlet.”  Len smiled, enjoying himself for the first time since he’d come back to Central City.  “No, apparently, when you went after the metahuman virus, you stopped the bad guy but got the virus.  Since both if your lovely science friends are metahumans, I graciously offered an old safe house that Mick could burn down when you were cured.  Dr. Snow said you had to stay at least a day more so she can make sure you’re not contagious anymore.  You owe me, by the way.”

Barry took in the information in silence.  “How did you survive?  Ray said you died.”

Len groaned.  Of course it had been Raymond who spilled the beans.

“I didn’t so much survive as something put me back together.”  Len admitted.  “What I destroyed was basically time itself, and time has a way of functioning like it wants to, no matter what who tries to write life otherwise.  And it wanted me back.”

Barry nodded.  “What did it feel like?”

Len frowned.  “I’m not sure I can put it in words.  It felt…”

“Like a thrumming all over your body?”  Barry offered.  “Like a force, a force that felt like an eternity and one second all at once?  Like every nerve on fire but no pain?”

“Something like that.”

“The speed force is what I call it, I think that’s it name.”  Barry explained at Len’s awed look.  “It’s how I got my powers, how all speedsters use their powers.”

“I’m not a speedster.”  Len said.  “I’ve never had any powers.”

“I’m not sure how to explain it.”  Barry rubbed his hand on his neck.

The doorbell rang.

“Ah, food’s here.  Courtesy of your Dr. Snow.”  Len said, tipping the young man generously.

They ate in tensioned silence.  It wasn’t quite uncomfortable, but Barry definitely knew something was different between them.  Len had to admit though, Barry could put food away like a champ.  He must’ve eaten five double cheeseburgers before Len finished his first one.

“All right, I can’t take this anymore.”  Barry said.  Len cocked an eyebrow.  “There’s something you’re hiding from me.  I know you, Snart, don’t try to deny it.”

“Call me Len, kid.”  Len said.  “I’ll not have this conversation with that name.”

Confusion took over Barry’s face.  “Len, then.”

“We haven’t been on one date and yet you love me.”  Len stated.

Barry blushed, and stuttered out, “What?  What- what makes you sa- think that?”

“You told me.”  Len said easily, taking a drink from his coffee.  “You told me not five hours ago, right on that very bed.”

He wasn’t sure how, but Barry got even redder.  “I did?”

“Yep.”  Len popped the ‘p’.  “I have to admit, your fever was at its zenith.”

“I was just sick.”  Barry said defensively, entirely too quick to latch onto the excuse.  “Nothing more!  Totally just a fever dream, I probably thought you were Iris or Patty.”

“No you certainly did not.”  Len said, starting to get annoyed at Barry’s obvious lie and his heart ached.  “You were talking to me.  You said you missed me and you thought it was your fault.  You did not mistake me, Barry.  You said you loved me.”

Barry’s mouth opened, as if going to lie again but he closed it.

“I don’t think I’m in love with you.”  Barry admitted.

“But there is something there?”  Len easily saw through his lie of omission.

Barry blushed harder, ducking his head.

“Just get it over with already.”  Barry muttered under his breath.

“Excuse me?”  Len asked.

“Get it over with!”  Barry said, fresh tears brewing.  “Laugh at me, kick me out, leave me here alone, just do it already!  Stop staring at me like that, I know I fell in love with someone who wouldn’t love me back, it’s a curse for me, I know!  I know you don’t love me back so just make fun of me or kick me out or whatever!  Just do it!”

Len stared at him, completely in shock.

Barry groaned.  “Look, thanks for letting me crash here.  But I think I’ll be better off somewhere else.”

He made to stand and wobbled a bit as he put weight on his feet.

“Sit back down.”  Len said, harsher than he intended.  Barry froze but stayed standing.  “Seriously, Scarlet, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Len easily moved him back to sitting on the bed.

“You never cease to surprise me, Scarlet.”  Len said, finally regaining control of his thoughts.  “I’m speechless.”

Barry stared warily at him.

“Why?”  Len finally asked, sitting down beside him.  “I’ve been nothing but cruel to you.”

“That’s not true.”  Barry said.  “I think it started when your father put that bomb in Lisa’s neck.  You kept pushing me away, and I realized it wasn’t because you hated me.  You didn’t want me there because you didn’t him to hurt me.  I heard you, you know.  After he ‘shot’ me.  I heard the real grief in your voice, even if in that moment, you chose your sister over me, which I completely understand.  And then you didn’t shoot me.  He told you to, threatened Lisa’s life, and you didn’t shoot me.  I mean, yeah, you shot your father but, off the record, I know exactly why you did.  I’ve wanted to kill Reverse Flash plenty of times for murdering my mother.  I just… didn’t.  And then you let me visit you in prison, more than once! And then, when Mardon and Jesse broke you out, you totally could’ve taken advantage of that, of me, but you didn’t  You even went so far as to warn me!  I know you said that it was because of Lisa, but it didn’t feel like that to me.  And then, you joined the Legends and Ray told me you died a hero. You died a hero and one of the last things I told you was there was good in you, that you could be more than just a thief.”

“I joined the Legends because Hunter played to my ego, and I thought I would be the smartest person in the room at all times.”  Len admitted.  “I thought I could steal from the greatest treasures of time and be remembered as the greatest thief of all time.  If I’m being perfectly honest, I didn’t even think about you until we left and I started to miss you.”

Barry turned to look at him.

“You missed me?”  Barry asked, and a small crack broke through Len’s heart.

“Since it seems we’re both baring our feelings today,” Len rolled his eyes, “yes I did.”

They sat in silence for a while.

“Are you going back to the Legends?”  Barry asked, breaking the silence.

“Eventually, I suppose.”  Len shrugged.  “I’m not really sure if I have a place in this world anymore.  When I first returned to Central City, I wanted nothing to do with them.  Now, I understand why Mick stayed with them.  I’ll end up going back, but probably not for a while.”

“So you’ll stay here?”  Barry asked.  “At least for a little while?”

Len nodded.

“Good.  That’s good.”  Barry said, awkwardness radiating off him like a neon sign.

A heavy silence hung in the air.

“Are you gonna ask me or are you gonna make me ask you?”  Len said, unable to take it anymore.

“Ask?”  Barry repeated.

Len rolled his eyes.  “You want me to stay because you’ve got a thing for me.  I missed you while I was galavanting through time.  There’s some obvious sexual tension when we fight.  Time, or the Speed Force, whatever you wanna call it, I think it gave me back to you.  And, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but a… partnership between us could be,” Len shoved down the image somehow now vivid in his head, Barry happy, himself smiling, lying in bed together just enjoying life, “mutually beneficial.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”  Barry asked, as if Len had asked him if he wanted a million dollars.  Disbelief, confusion, but underneath, excitement, happiness, and so, so hopeful.

Len nodded jerkily.  Mentally, he made a pact with himself.  Lisa and Mick could never know, as they’d know how ridiculous he was acting and would make fun of him for the rest of their lives.

“I’d like that.”  Barry’s quiet admission, like he couldn’t believe his eyes made up for how terrible a flirt he was being.

“Peachy.”  He said, on instinct.

Barry laughed tiredly.

“You should get some rest.”  Len said.  “You’ve been out for the better part of two days, and that was just with me.”

Barry nodded slowly, laying back down.  “Will you still be here when I wake up?”

Len nodded, resisting the urge to chuckle at Barry’s blush.  “Go to sleep, Scarlet.  I’ll still be here in the morning.”

Palm up for the win. The middle finger on the ground, the thumb, index, ring and pinky fingers limp but not quite on the ground........

Favorite side effect of collapsing into unconsciousness: The limp hand falling to the floor

Do you prefer palm up or palm down?  I’m palm up!

Whumptober Prompt #13- Adrenaline and #17- “Stay With Me”

Heeeey.  I’ll make this short, no one’s really reading anyways. This is ColdFlash.  The Adrenaline is interpreted rather loosely.

Chest compressions.  Breath.  Breath.  Chest compressions.  Gasp like there’s no air.  Breath.  Breath.  Listen to his heart.  Don’t hear anything.  Chest compressions.  Don’t panic, don’t paNIC, DON’T PANIC.  Breath.  Breath.  Nothing.  Start chest compressions again.

“Stay with me, Barry, stay with me.”  Mutter under breath.  Barely notice the water vapor.  Jacket is still sticking to skin.  Hope that the cold won’t kill him faster.

Don’t look at his slack, angelic face.  Rip off mask just in case it’s impeding his breathing.  Check his airway again.  Don’t think about doing CPR on his lifeless body.  Continue doing chest compressions.  Breath.  Breath.  Check his pulse.  Check again.

Panic.

“No, no, no, please, Barry, stay with me.  Don’t go, don’t go, stay with me, please.”

Feel lost.  Feel scared.  Feel angry.

“You bastard!  How dare you?  Come back, you bastard!  Come back!”

Clench your hand into a fist.  Pound on his chest.  His body jerks.  A small trickle of water comes out of his mouth.  Grasp onto the smallest hope.  Do it again.  And again.

… 

With the greatest sound Len had ever heard in his life, Barry coughed, throwing up water and bile as his airways cleared.  Len turned Barry onto his side, and the coughing became easier.  When he stopped throwing up, and his breathing seemed to come naturally, Len hooked his arms around Barry’s knees and back, hauling him into Len’s arms.  He really wished he could take Barry to Star Labs where his friends could help him, but there was no way he could do that.  Len would have to leave his bike behind, he couldn’t hold onto an unconscious Barry and drive at the same time, but thankfully, he had a safehouse a couple of blocks away so he planned out a route in his head.  They were in a neighborhood where nobody ever looked out their windows, so he could just run with an unmasked Flash in his arms and no one would see anything, or say anything if they did.

In exactly fifteen point seven minutes, Len fumbled for his keys in his back pocket, trying to balance an unconscious Flash and open his locked door at the same time.  It took him fourteen point three seconds, an increase from his usual ten point nine, to get the door open and manhandle Barry inside.  He set Barry down on the nearby couch, glad he had had the foresight to put the couch close to the door, though he had done it in case he needed a quick shield or barricade.  He grabbed the throw pillows Lisa had given him as gag gifts, the ones with the Flash and Captain Cold personas on each, and tried to set Barry up so he was comfortable but still kept his airways clear and his chest without too much pressure on it.  He wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he’d read enough from the medical textbooks the prison libraries had available to know he needed to keep the stress off of Barry’s chest.  Soon as he was satisfied, he wrapped Barry in as many blankets as he could find.

Soon after, Barry’s wonderful, beautiful green eyes fluttered open.  Len’s entire body sagged in relief.  Barry’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, his mouth moving stiltedly.

“Barry?”  Len asked, trying to be gentle.

“-one.”  Barry struggled to get out, coughing again.

“One?  One what?”

Barry tried to clear his throat.  “Phone.”

Len pat down his jacket, and pulled a waterlogged phone out of his pocket.  He grimaced.  He hadn’t taken anything out of his pockets before jumping into the water after Barry.

“I have others.”  Len stated, setting the now useless phone on the coffee table.

He bolted to the bedroom and easily got into his safe, the one where he kept his important documents for the apartment like ownership papers and fake identities in case he needed to run, and pulled out the first burner phone he saw.  When he returned, he saw Barry trying to reach for the dead phone.

“Use this one, this one works.”  Len pressed the phone into Barry’s hands.

Barry’s hands were shaking as he tried to type a number into the text message function.  He kept slipping so Len gently took it from him, listening ardently.  Barry rattled off a number, a local one, so it was either Cisco or his father.

“What do you want to say?”  Len asked quietly.

“Cisco- it’s Bar.  Am safe.  Will come back ASAIC.”  Barry panted, sounding exhausted.  “Am safe, aren’t I?”

Len chuckled dryly.  “Yes because I’ve gone to all of this trouble to pull you out of a river, given you CPR, and dragged your dumb Hero ass all the way to one of my apartments to kill you.  It’s all a part of my master plan.”

Barry’s mouth quirked into a small smile.  Len would deny ever feeling a flutter of butterflies in his stomach like a schoolgirl at seeing that smile.

“Typed and sent.”  Len said, showing Barry the phone.

Barry nodded and closed his eyes again.

Len sighed, feeling just a tad guilty but shook Barry anyway.  “Nope.  You can’t rest just yet.  You gotta help me get you out of this suit.  You’re freezing.”

Barry didn’t open his eyes, he merely hit a button on the chest plate of his suit and it became more relaxed than Len’d ever seen it.

“Come on, you can’t help me?”  Len teased, feeling a little better about getting back into their usual rhythm.  “You’re gonna make me strip you alone?”

Barry didn’t answer him.

Len checked his pulse and breathing, and found them both strong.  It seemed Barry’s metahuman healing factor was putting him back together at record speed.  Len double checked them again, just in case.

Then he soldiered on, manhandling Barry out of the Flash suit.  Barry must’ve been more than exhausted to let him do this alone because all he found underneath the Flash’s red not-leather, as Barry once insisted, was Barry’s smooth marble skin and toned muscles.  He didn’t even know that Barry had a six-pack, but to be honest, it made sense.  Flash was strong enough to take on guys like King Shark and Gorilla Grodd so having a six-pack and muscles that almost made Len drool didn’t seem too far-fetched.

When he got to the legs aspect of the suit, he hesitated.  Barry only wore his boxers underneath, and those certainly couldn’t stay but he did not want to do that alone.  But it seemed Barry was good and out, and wouldn’t be helping.  So Len tried to push his personal feelings for Barry, and definitely his attraction to Barry’s stunning runner’s physique, as deep in the back of his mind as he could and got to work.  He peeled the fabric away, first from the suit, then from the soaking wet cotton that was the only thing left protecting Barry’s modesty.  As soon as he could, he threw the blankets back over Barry so the temptation to look would not have its day.  He hung the soaking wet Flash suit over his shower curtain, with Barry’s boxers right next to it.  Hopefully, they could dry a little that way.

A low moan caught his attention.  He returned to the couch to find that Barry was beginning to wake up a little.

“Come on, baby, wake up.”  Len whispered, shaking Barry’s shoulder a little.

“Baby?”  Barry blinked his eyes open, much more coherent that the last time.

“What?  No, I called you Barry.”  Len said, cursing his stupid mouth for acting without his permission.  “You must still have water in your ears.”

“Water?”  Thankfully, Barry seemed to buy it.  “Wait, when did I get wet?  When-” Barry reached up to his face and recognized that he was no longer dressed.  “Where is my suit?!?”

“Relax, Scarlet,” Len smirked, enjoying that Barry was turning the color of his nickname, “It’s drying in my bathroom.  You were soaking wet, you needed to get out of those wet clothes.”

Barry nodded.  “That explains why I’m so cold.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”  Len asked.

Barry frowned.  “Jewelry store.  A new meta with some kind of either super strength or molecular density rearrangement… That’s it.”

“He got you pretty good.”  Len filled in.  “You took a bad hit to the head, and went flying over the bridge into the Mississippi.”

Barry stared at him.  “Then… how did I get here? With my suit in your bathroom?  Did you pull me out?”

Len distinctly ignored the memory of panicking in the murky water, desperately searching for the speedster.

“Eh, you more washed up on shore.” Len lied. “I couldn’t have anyone find you and know your secret.  How else would I still be able to continue working without you constantly throwing me in jail?”

Barry stared at him, his mouth twitching until he smiled.

“You saved my life.”

“I merely did what was necessary for me to do what I want to do.”  Len said.

“Then why did you give me CPR?”  Barry asked.  “I can feel it, you know.  I can feel my ribs knitting themselves back together and my lungs aching from the water.  You said I took a bad hit to the head.  Not the chest.”

“You probably broke your ribs when you hit the water.”  Len tried.

Barry’s smug smile was spreading across his face.  “No I didn’t. You saved me.”

“If you start with that ‘there’s good in you’ shit again, I’m kicking you out.”  Len snarled, his hackles rising.

Barry put up his hands in surrender.  “Wouldn’t want that.  You got a phone I can borrow? I need to tell the team I’m okay.”

“I already sent them a text.”  Len grumbled.

Barry’s smug smile got worse.

“Hey, that was your fault.”  Len accused.  “You were moving around trying to get a phone, I had to send it because you couldn’t.”

“I was?”  Barry asked.

Len nodded.

“I don’t remember any of that.”  The smug smile vanished, replaced by a worried frown.

“You took a bad hit to the head and fell off a bridge.”  Len said, gentler.  “Cut yourself some slack.”

Barry nodded back, then looked Len up and down.  “Are you okay?”

“Ask yourself that.”  Len said.  “You’re the one who fell off a bridge.”

“You seem cold.”  Barry started.

“Why thank you, and me without my parka.”  Len shot back.

“No seriously, you look cold.”  Barry tried again.

“The cold never bothered me anyway, Scarlet.”  Len smirked.

“Then why are your hands shaking?”  Barry asked bluntly, ignoring the terrible line.

That caught Len off guard.  He looked down and, shit, Barry was right. He shoved his hands and found his jacket still soaked through.

“Let me get out of these wet clothes and I’m sure they’ll freeze.”  Len said, standing.

Barry groaned.  “That was terrible!”

It wasn’t too bad once my fever broke. I slept through most of the illness, I just remember that waterfall even though I was nowhere near one. I’ve turned it into fun bits of whump idea after idea.

I once hallucinated when I had a fever of 104! I was lying in bed, burning up, and knew it was a school day. So I got out of bed and immediately collapsed to the ground. Thankfully my door was open and roommates were able to check on me. They couldn’t lift me into bed, but made sure I wasn’t dead and got me some water. Except- that’s not what I remember. I remember being stuck under a cold waterfall, against a rocky surface. When I woke up a few hours later, I could stand and got back in bed

Ooo, that sounds really scary!

Whumptober Prompt #2 and #6- Explosion and Dragged Away

@winedark-whump you wanted to know who Sam was, and how he died.  Your wish is granted.

A high pitched ringing was going back in forth from one side of his head to the other. He blinked slowly, the darkness mixing in with colors, until he could finally distinguish the sky from the buildings under it. The ringing shifted, assaulting both ears now that he could focus better. He tried to pull himself up, they needed to go… somewhere. He wasn’t sure exactly where but he knew it wasn’t here. Here had fallen debris all around, lots of little fires, tons of smoke, and was that blood? Not a good place to be. He tried to lift himself by his arms but fell to his left side. He looked down and saw dirt. He frowned. Dirt? Shouldn’t there be something there that’s not dirt? His eyes slowly traveled upwards and saw what was left of his left arm. Memory hit him like a freight train.

Ever since Arrow had lost her Hero, she’d become almost as fanatic as the rest of them. Phoenix and Mirror Mirror had just been causing a little mayhem, nothing too big, just a casual museum heist. They’d hoped not to run into any Heroes but together, they were unstoppable so it didn’t really matter. It seemed, however, that someone was dumb enough to try.

“Fucking lousy criminals.” Arrow sneered, Michael catching her first arrow from up in the rafters of the museum. He knew that was merely a warning shot, Arrow always hit her targets. “Always have to ruin everyone else’s day. This artwork is supposed to inspire love for humanity, for life. And taking it just leave those without. How cruel.”

Michael clenched his fist, her arrow exploding in his hand. He sneered right back at her, “Lousy Heroes. Always ruining our day.”

Arrow rolled her eyes and notched another arrow, the tip glinting in the light. Michael snarled, recognizing one of her cracked diamond arrows. Those were a bitch to get out, as if you weren’t careful, the diamond would shatter in you, forcing you to go to a hospital or risk having diamonds enter your bloodstream.

Michael grabbed a button out of his pocket, he always kept spares in case he needed a weapon, or more importantly, if one popped off his corset. He charged up, and threw it upwards. He wasn’t Arrow, with the gift of impossible accuracy, but he was a pretty good shot. She dived as the button exploded, using the rafters as a gymnastics bar, swinging herself down to their level.

He motioned for Sam to take the props and leave the ringers behind, while he charged straight at Arrow. He had to admit, some of the best parts of a classic museum heist is leaving the fake artwork behind so cops have no idea what they’ve stolen.

She jumped back at his straightforward attack, knowing he only needed one slip up to get all five fingers around her. He wouldn’t kill the little shit, but singeing her a little wouldn’t be too bad.

Suddenly, there was a rope around his neck.

“We’re taking this outside so you don’t break shit!” Arrow shouted, throwing him through a window.

His back hit the glass first, and he felt it crack underneath his weight. The shards embedded themselves in his back and legs as the force propelled him through the now shattered window. Somehow, he landed on his right foot before crumpling to the ground. Pain flirted with his body but never truly stayed in one place too long so he knew nothing was broken. Trying to ignore the bruises forming all over him, he pulled himself up, knowing in the back of his head it had been her ability to accurately throw him that had saved him from permanent damage.

A sharp cry brought his attention back to the shattered window. Sam had Arrow pinned to the edge, nearly succeeding in throwing her off. She threw a punch Sam easily deflected, tried to kick Sam’s feet out from under him which he easily blocked, then grabbed an arrow from her quiver and sprayed him with a foamy substance, which caused him to pull back and which sent herself over the edge. She grabbed onto one of the banners advertising the very painting Michael was stealing, flipping and landing without any injury to her perfect high-heels.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t want to break shit, you seemed to have no problem throwing me out a window.” Michael said, grabbing a couple pieces of broken glass around him. He charged them up slowly, knowing glass was a very dangerous weapon for him, as too much power would cause the glass to break and simply latch onto the nearest surface.

“Better to replace a window than mourn a priceless Monet.” Arrow fired back, notching another arrow.

“It’s Mo-ney, you idiot.” Michael jeered as it were a schoolyard tiff. “He was French, the T is silent.”

“Whatever!” She shouted back, clearly embarrassed. She fired her first arrow, easily and quickly notching another, and Michael threw his first piece. They hit each other straight on, resulting in a small explosion. Arrow narrowed her eyes at him, and smirked.

Then Sam hit her from behind with what was left of a nearby lamppost.

Arrow collapsed to the ground, seemingly unconscious. Michael stared.

Sam jogged over to him, and kissed him lightly. “Hey, babe.”

Michael cocked an eyebrow.

“Hmm? Oh that was easy. Once I copied her, I figured out her weakness. Hyperfocus. Don’t know if she’s ADHD but she can’t focus on the two of us at once without putting one of us on the backburner of her mind.”

“You’re the best, babe.” Michael smiled. “How’d I end up with such an amazing partner like you?”

“You’re a thief.” Sam smirked. “You stole my heart.”

“Would you still love me if I never gave it back?” Michael teased, the familiar words rolling off his tongue like raindrops off a leaf.

“I will always love you.” Sam whispered.

Michael gently kissed his fiancé. “I lo-”

Before he could finish, an arrow shaped like a boxing glove hit him in the mouth. A second with a net attached to it hit Sam, slamming him into a nearby wall. Sam’s head lolled haphazardly, blood trickling down a cut on his face.

“Sam!”

A punch to the face sent him reeling. A punch to the stomach caused him to double over. Arrow then brought her clasped fists on Michael’s neck, sending him to the ground with a grunt. A sharp stiletto dug itself into his left wrist, hitting the ligaments in between his hand and arm. Instinctively, he had let go of the piece of glass he was holding but found himself unable to stop the charge, as all five fingers were being forced upon the ground with the toe of her boot.

“You gotta let me up.” Michael gasped through the pain. “I can’t turn my power off.”

“Impossible.” Arrow snapped. “I’ve severed your median nerve and your transverse carpal ligament. There’s no way you can be using your gift. Even you’re human.”

The ground beneath the glass began to shift into a more fuchsia type color.

“Seriously!” Michael implored, panic starting to seep into his voice. “I don’t know how but I can’t turn it off! You gotta let me up!”

Arrow simply notched another arrow, this one tipped with what looked like a stunner.

“Liar.”

“Please!” Michael begged. The concrete beneath him began to crack, fuchsia energy building up underneath the surface.

“No!” Arrow screamed, and for a second, they locked eyes, and all Michael saw was a frightened child behind her mask. “All you criminals do is lie, cheat, and steal to get what you want. You can never trust a criminal. They’re incapable of trying to do anything good! Their hearts are black, their minds are corrupted, and their gifts are evil incarnate! Only those who use their gifts for the betterment of all humanity can truly have a heart!”

Unable to fight the growing power in his palm, Michael forced out a small breath. Small fissures raced down his hand, across his whole arm, bleeding raw energy. Arrow gasped at the sight, and looked at him, fear evident on her face. Helpless against what was about to happen, he simply gathered what was left of his strength. He had to release the energy before it got worse, and threatened Sam. Above all, if he got captured, if he got killed for killing a Hero, it didn’t matter. No matter what, he had to save Sam.

So, he simply… let go.

It seemed his left arm just couldn’t contain the power.

Ears still ringing, fires still burning, smoke still choking the breath out of his lungs, he forced himself to stand. He had to find Sam. They had to get out of there. He didn’t see Arrow but that doesn’t necessarily mean she was dead or gone. Heroes had a nasty habit of appearing out of nowhere when you least expect them. Horrifically off balance without his left arm, he turned to try and get a glimpse of the wall Sam had been thrown into.

He stumbled around for what seemed like an eternity, coughing up who knows what, nearly falling every two steps, until he finally found a collapsed wall with a familiar glove sticking out of it.

“Sam!” Michael shouted, and collapsed near his fiancé. Sam’s eyes were closed, with blood trickling out of his mouth, head leaning to his left side. “Sam, come on, wake up, we gotta get outta here.”

Sam didn’t stir.

You’re gonna make me do it, huh?” Michael gasped, dread settling into his stomach. “Fine but you don’t get to yell at me when we get home.”

Still nothing.

“Black is the color of my true love’s hair,” Michael crooned. He wasn’t the best singer but Sam always loved it. Michael had never done it in public. It was their little secret. “His face so soft and wondrous fair, the purest eyes, and the gentlest hands, I love the ground whereon he stands, I love the ground… C’mon Sam, wake up! Please wake up!”

He shook Sam by the shoulder, and Sam’s head rolled limply to the side.

Michael screamed.

The very same lamppost that he’d used to knock out Arrow was now embedded in his skull. Blood poured from the wound, slowly, as if the motion itself had no life left.

“Sam! Please, no, Sam, please don’t be dead, please, don’t be dead.” Michael screamed. “You can’t leave me here alone. Please, I love you, Sam, I love you! I love you more than life itself! Please. You can’t be gone, you just can’t!”

“Phoenix, c’mon, you gotta get out of here.” A new voice said, tugging on his jacket. This one sounded young, and very, very scared. “You gotta move! They’re going to arrest you!”

He ignored her.

“Please, Phoenix, you’ve got to move! This is my fault, not yours. You can’t stay here!”

He whipped around, his left arm dead weight. There stood Arrow, covered in blood, bruises but with an unblemished face. She looked shell-shocked, as if unable to comprehend the reality of the situation.

“Don’t die with him. Please.”

The “please” shattered what was left of his heart. A scream escaped his lips without conscious thought, a sound he never knew he could make, and he flung the broken-hearted shell of what used to be Michael Winters upon the chest of his dead love.

“No, I’m not letting you take the fall for this. This was my doing, not yours. We’re leaving now!”

With a strength Michael didn’t know was possible, Arrow lifted him under the arms and heaved. Michael, unexpectedly limp in her arms at first, lurched away from Sam.

“No! Don’t take me from him, please, he needs me, no, no!”

“I’m sorry!” Arrow shouted, but continued to haul him away.

Little fuchsia sparks flew past his fingers and out of his stump. “Stop! Let me go! Sam, I won’t leave you! I won’t leave you, Sam, I promise! Let me go!”

He fought against her hold but she had leverage against him so all he could do was skid his feet along the road and try to elbow her as she dragged him away. He got in one good shot to her ribs, eliciting a hard cry. He went to aim for that same spot.

“I’m sorry.” She murmured, then he felt a strong electrostatic charge and finally succumbed back down into the never-ending darkness.

Whumptober Prompt #7 Isolation and #9 Shackled

@winedark-whump So here’s a bit more about a certain Hero who needs some more character development.  I hope you enjoy it.  Dammit all, I hope you see it.  I have no idea how long this unflagged status will last me.

Line

Fayelin tested out the restraints she was locked in for what must’ve been the millionth time.  She knew she had been strapped down for her own safety, but getting out of these restraints was her top priority these past few days.  At least, she thought so.  The days blurred together without sunlight, she wasn’t sure how long she had left, but it couldn’t be too much longer.  They were already at the torture bit, and the torture bit was always last, according to her friends.

She kept her breathing as controlled as she could.  She could do this.  Killian wouldn’t have recommended her for the higher level courses if she couldn’t handle it.  Sure, minor Heroes-in-training weren’t allowed to take these courses because they were too young, but Killian knew her limits.  He had pulled a few strings to get her into this test.  He believed in her, she couldn’t let him down.

The cacophony of sounds was awful, but bearable, at least at first.  She knew it would get worse.  But this exercise was about being able to withstand unbearable torture, and to be able to escape when the time came.  She hadn’t been given permission to escape yet, but she was allowed to figure a way out beforehand.  A Hero should always be able to escape any situation, with as few injuries as possible.  That’s what the whole test was, you had to escape capture, with off duty Heroes pretending to be villains, after being able to withstand torture.

The sounds were growing louder.  There were newly added screams, screams she could’ve sworn she recognized.  She could’ve sworn she heard one of her best friends, Wonder, it sounded just like her.  They were definitely pulling from her personal background, that was definitely Gold, followed closely by Glitter.  She was rather close with the twins.  She supposed it was be able to withstand others getting tortured as well, more than one Villain tortured two heroes at once by torturing only one and making the other watch.  She could withstand that easily.  As much as she loved her friends, just hearing them scream was nothing.  Villains tortured, that was a fact of their lifestyle. Screams were just a way she could tell they were still alive.  Killian had told her several times to listen to how he screamed, as he would communicate to her through them.

Speak of the devil, Soldier’s screams were coming through now.  She wondered how they had gotten his screams because he wasn’t communicating, that was simply pain.  Fayelin blocked out the noise, after all, it was just noise, and went back to the restraints.  Thick iron wrapped solidly around her wrists with a thick chain wrapping around the legs of the bed.  It was made to withstand those with super strength but her strength was not her greatest ally here.  Her mind was.

“Remember little one, a Hero’s power can be their strength and weakness, only a Hero’s mind is their true strength.”

Killian was right after all.  Some Villains could take or copy abilities, but no one could take someone’s mind.  She just had to focus.  Killian had taught her to pick locks without her gift.  She simply needed something long and sharp, like one of the pins in her hair.  Problem was getting it.  She couldn’t lift her arms very high, her legs had weights on them, her hips were tied down with rope, and she wasn’t allowed to get off the bed until release was granted.  Her biggest advantage was how tiny she was, no matter how much she hated being so small.  If she played her cards right, she could slip between the ropes and slid herself into a position where she could grab a hairpin.  So she flexed some of her leg muscles, pulling on the ropes tautness.  When she felt her opening, she went for it.  She slid through the ropes, and got her hand to her left wrist, pulling a nonessential hairpin from her hair.  She always kept a few extra that didn’t keep up her ridiculous hairdo.  Logically, she knew her hairdo marked her status as a Sidekick, and Killian had spent a lot of time designing it, but the minute she became her own Hero, she was changing it.  She looked more like a sci-fi character than a Sidekick.

She hid the hairpin in her hand, just in case.  Then she drowned out the screams, she drowned out the crashing, the screeching, the breaking glass, the breaking of bones and focused.  Killian was trusting her to prove that he hadn’t made a mistake taking her on so early.  Other Heroes has whispered she wasn’t ready, that Killian was mad for taking a sidekick so young, that she couldn’t compete with her peers.  She couldn’t wait until she wiped those smirks off their faces.

“Heroes are now allowed to fight their way out of Caina.”  A loudspeaker spoke.  “If medical assistance is needed, then please contact Heroes before the rendezvous point is reached.”

She easily picked the lock of the left chain, then the right.  She kept the weights on her feet, to further her impact if she ran into anyone with invulnerability or super strength.  She was small, so she needed every advantage.  Once she broke out of the cell, a simple task with her gift pinpointing the systems weaknesses, she easily ran down the corridors.  She had all but grown up in Caina, where she was allowed to go anyway.  No one except a few Heroes were allowed to the lower levels (as that was where they kept unredeemable Villains, those with high body counts and usually personal vendettas against Heroes.  The two Killian had put down there had killed more than one Hero).  So working her way through was easier, she had no problems finding wherever she wanted to go.

Her first problem was Jerry.  That wasn’t his name, but she couldn’t pronounce his very Russian Hero name, but she thought he looked like a Jerry so Jerry it was.  Jerry had gravitational density manipulation, so he could give himself super strength when he wanted to, which was often his main weapon.

“I’m glad to see you out, little one, but I’m afraid this is the end of the line.”  Jerry cooed.

She growled. She hated when they treated her like a little kid.  But it did give her one great advantage.  They treated her like a little kid in fights as well.  She was often underestimated.

So when Jerry made an obvious feint to her right, she used his own momentum against him, flipping herself up using his arm and bringing her legs down  on the back of his neck.  She didn’t need to knock him fully unconscious, she just needed to run fast enough away that he couldn’t catch her.  So after making contact, she used the movement to propel herself forward and she made it past him.

Two more corridors to get through.  She could hear and feel the last Hero she would see inside Caina.  She snickered.  She’d nicknamed him Marshmallow because he was so soft and gooey on the inside, especially with children, and had the intelligence of a sugar molecule.  He used to give all the little Sidekicks or minor Heroes-in-training rides on his back when their Heroes were busy.  He was a solid mass of blue skin, muscles, and a mouth he couldn’t quite close.  She always thought of that old comic book series, back when those with unnatural abilities were considered fantasy.  Grundy, she believed he was called.  He would be easy enough, as she wouldn’t make the mistake everyone else makes when facing him.  Fighting him was unneccessary and stupid, it just wore you out and that’s how he caught his criminals.  He simply outlasted them in strength.  All she had to do was keep moving forward.

“Stop little one.”  He grumbled, raising his fists above his head.

She slid underneath his feet, unable to watch the confusion on his face.  Once through, she scrambled to her feet and kept running.  She was almost through to the end of the test, dodging explosions.  There were no mines in Caina, just in case some random civilian came wandering in, as this base wasn’t on a map to protect the people living here.  So that meant that other Heroes with gifts similar to hers would be launching projectiles ranging from cannonball size to actual missiles.  So once she made it to the open clearing that they used to hide the base, she turned around to see the five projectiles heading toward her.  Those were easy enough to dodge with her gift, after all, she never missed a step.  Dodging an explosion was simply a matter of jumping off debris at the right time and only putting a certain amount of weight down at a time.  That had been one of the first ways Killian had tested out the extent of her powers.

She made it to the end of the clearing, and found the rendezvous point.  Killian, and three other Heroes were waiting for their Sidekicks, with The Administrator.  She didn’t see any other Sidekicks but that didn’t mean she was first.  Once The Administrator said you passed, Heroes were allowed to leave to celebrate.  She skidded on her knees until she reached Killian, and stuck her leg out to stop herself, arresting momentum in a kneeling stance, arms crossed over her chest.

“Sir!  I have escaped Caina as ordered in the fastest manner I could, sir!”  She said.

“Well done.”  Killian said.

She fought the smile threatening to burst out.  Killian rarely praised her in front of other Heroes as to not seem unprofessional.

“You do continue to surprise young one.”  The Administrator said, his voice sounding as old as he was.  He was the oldest of their program, for this country at least.  He had once been a great Hero until he had finally gotten too old to keep up with the growing threat of Villains and now trained other Heroes to take his place.   “You are the youngest to ever complete this test, let alone unscathed.”

“Screams are just noise, sir.”  Fayelin said, bowing her head.  “Screams and begs for mercy will not interfere with how I do my job.  I cannot always trust what I am seeing or hearing so I cannot allow it to influence my work.”

“Good answer.”  The Administrator said.  “Villains will look for any excuse and will go to every new low you can think of to trick Heroes.  You must have the ultimate strength of will if you are to resist them.”

“I shall always endeavor for that strength.”  She replied.

“She has answered well, Soldier.”  The Administrator said.  “However, there is the matter of her age.”

She cursed silently.

“Heroes her age are not to be in this test.”  The Administrator said.  “While she has proven she is ready, we must abide by our own laws or we are no better than the criminals we hunt.”

“Sir, she turns sixteen in two months.”  Killian said.  “What is the difference between her being ready now and her being ready in two months?”

“I have not finished, Soldier, you would do well to not interrupt me.”  The Administrator snapped and even Fayelin saw the other Heroes flinch at his tone.  No one pissed off the Administrator.

“I’m sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.”  Killian said, bowing his head.

“I assure you, it won’t.”  The Administrator said. “As I was saying, we must abide by our own laws.  And our laws state that a Hero-in-training cannot become a Sidekick until they are sixteen.  However, due to this unparalleled show of bravery, control, and skill, I am allowing this passing grade to transfer over in two months.  She will become your Sidekick on the day of her sixteenth birthday.”

She couldn’t fight that smile from spreading across her face, and it seemed neither could Killian.

“You may rise, Arrow.”  The Administrator said, and she slowly stood.

“Sir, isn’t it my job to choose her Sidekick name?”  KIllian whispered.

“Do not test your limits further, Soldier.”  The Administrator said coldly.  “You should feel lucky that I will not put you on probation for those two months of waiting.  If she hadn’t performed as admirably as she did, I assure you, you would’ve been suspended for putting her in this test.  Now, you will take Arrow as a Sidekick in two months.”

“Yes, sir.”  Killian said, saluting.  She very quickly followed suit.

“And Miss Arrow?”  The Administrator said. “I expect great things of you, young one.”

“I won’t let you down, sir!”