Chapter Text
“Excuse me?”
The dumbfounded look on Snart — not Snart — was enough to snap Barry back to a more logical version of himself. He looked around, David still slightly rattled, ready to spew more obscenities at T-Bag. T-Bag, forgetting David entirely, now much more interested in Barry and Not-Snart. Eventually, T-bag stared solely at Barry, observing him as if he were from another planet.
If only he knew.
The longer silence stretched between the four prisoners, the more self-conscious Barry became. How could he have gotten so ahead of himself? He had seen a copy of Snart before and had a much more logical reaction. Earth-2 Leonard Snart was the mayor of Central City for god’s sake! Barry should have expected to run into a doppelgänger sooner or later.
What name did that creep (Not-Snart had called him T-Bag) call Not-Snart again? Michael? Michael Scofield?
Doppelgängers didn’t always have to match names and identities with their other earthly counterparts. Jay for example, had a completely different first and last name than Barry’s father. Maiden names, marriage and a whole barrage of other things could explain why Michael Scofield wasn’t, well, Leonard Snart.
Now, time for damage control.
“What—? I said smart! Yeah, smart advice from a really smart guy. Thank you.” You would think Barry knew how to shut himself up by now. “Anyway, me and my friend are gonna go somewhere else. Really, we don’t want any trouble.”
Barry was beyond embarrassed by his lapse in judgement. More so due to the fact that he was so easily able to let his guard down. On the bright side, Snart’s doppelgänger didn’t seem so bad. Barry didn't know how to feel about him being in prison, though. What did this one do to get arrested? Was he also a thief? A scammer? God, was he a murderer?
With the situation resolved, Barry shifted gears and pushed David far, far away from T-Bag to the far corner of the yard. He didn’t want him anywhere near the boy. A part of Barry wanted to linger around Snart’s doppelgänger just a little while longer. Instead, Barry resisted the urge to go back and talk to him. Talking to a stranger who happened to have a familiar face wouldn’t achieve anything. It wasn’t his Snart. As much as seeing Snart’s Doppelgänger provided a strange sort of comfort, he really needed a break from the absolute mind-fuck that was the past few hours.
Barry paced back and forth, fidgeting with anything on his person, anything in reach. He unconsciously began to card his fingers through his hair, a childhood self-soothing behaviour he had taken from his mother.
A distant voice called for Barry. He didn’t answer
When Barry was a child, he was in some aspects, a late bloomer. One of his biggest, most prevalent struggles was gaining the courage to sleep apart from his parents. It took him until he was nine to even consider the idea. When Barry turned ten, he had finally come around to a night alone. For a whole week, Barry was sleeping alone with no issue. On the eighth day, however, a nightmare jolted him awake, sending him running to his parents. He had clumsily crawled into their bed, wedging himself in between them for comfort.
“What’re you doing here, slugger? Why aren’t you in bed?”
When Barry had come around to sleeping on his own, his parents had looked so proud. Despite the difficulty it posed, he wanted to prove to his parents just how grown up he was. He ignored the jarring sensation of nobody holding him, the missing warmth and protection that came with being shielded by his parents from anything out to get him.
Barry thrived in company. He hated being alone more than anything else in the world.
“I missed you and mom.”
“We thought you were excited to get your own room?” His father whispered, not judgemental but rather, curious. A comfortable silence filled the room as Henry patiently waited for Barry to speak.
Instead, Barry whimpered and hid his face in his father’s chest. He hated how small and scared he felt. He was a big kid now! He was a whole year older than nine! He should act like it!
He remembered his father mummuring soft consolations even through a sleep-filled haze. Eventually, the noise of attempted, hushed comfort had caused Barry’s mother to stir. Nora’s beautiful red curls, illuminated by cracks of moonlight seeping through the bedroom windows, shifted to the other side of the pillow as she turned to fully face Barry and his father.
“Oh Barry… Henry, what happened to our beautiful boy?”
Barry shut his eyes as tightly as he could. Maybe if he pressed himself even closer to his father, he could avoid the conversation entirely.
“Go on son,” His father prompted, “It’s okay, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
What was his dad talking about? Of course there was! Barry had told them he was ready, he was supposed to be able to handle this!
“I just—“ Barry barely got past his second word before he fell apart. His sudden tears temporarily stunned both Henry and Nora into silence. After a beat, the both of them made a swift recovery. Nora had reached for tissues on the nightstand while Henry fetched the boy a glass of water.
They had spent the whole night hugging and holding him tightly. Nora combed her fingers through Barry’s soft, brown hair, humming a gentle lullaby as she did so. Henry dove into a monologue of random topics to distract Barry from crying.
It took half an hour for Barry to settle down, for large sobs to become nothing more than occasional sniffles.
When he was present enough to look at both of his parents with only a pout, Nora called for his attention.
Somewhere far away, the distant voice remained muffled amidst the memories of Barry’s mind.
“Barry, you were upset because you felt alone and didn’t like it, is that right?”
His mom was listening! His dad didn’t even need to make him tell her in the first place!
“Mhm,” Barry nodded instead, determined to power through and show his ten-year old maturity. “I’m sorry I told you and dad I was ready to be by myself when I wasn’t. I’m sorry I lied…”
Nora sighed, her expression that of empathy and understanding. Even at such a young age, Barry expected too much of himself.
“Now listen to me, darling, and remember what I have to say. No matter where you are, who you see, what you do, you are never alone. As long as your father and I are here, we’ll always look out for the amazing boy that you are.”
Barry’s mother cupped the side of his face with her free hand, using her thumb to gently caress his cheek.
“It’s okay to feel all those emotions you keep inside of you, Barry. It’s what makes us human. What I want you to do is promise me, promise me that next time, you don’t hide. Wear that big, bright heart on your sleeve and the next time you feel that way? Don’t be ashamed to come to us.”
Nora and Henry met each other’s gaze, nodding at each other in agreement. Barry, who was silently watching the whole interaction, couldn’t believe how breathtaking his mother was. Nora’s love encompassed Barry in a blanket of security. Without a doubt, Barry took after his mother as well. If Nora was the sun, Barry was every tree, flower and blade of grass that came as a result of her warm, affectionate rays.
Henry chuckled fondly before giving Nora and Barry each a kiss each on the forehead. Barry squirmed, feigning childish disgust before erupting into content giggles.
“Your mother’s right, son. Next time this happens, come running to us without a second thought, alright? We’re always here for you, we promise.”
Barry remembered feeling stronger, braver. After his mother and father’s encouragement, he was able to find his voice again—
“—Earth to Barry?—“
“Thanks mom, thanks dad, I love you both, lots.”
“—Barry—“
“We love you too, Barry.” Nora said as she planted her own kiss on the crown of Barry’s head—
“—You good? What’s goin’ on?—“
Barry stretched his scrawny little limbs and yawned. His eyelids grew heavy—
“—Come on, man, what gives?—“
Henry gently covered Barry’s eyes closed. “Alright, it’s time to go to sleep, slugger.”
“—Dude!—“
A year later, Nora Allen would be found murdered in their living room. Henry Allen, the man Barry wanted to run home to most, would be arrested for murder.
“—I know you can hear me—“
Sixteen years later, Barry would lose both of them all over again after fixing the timeline. After permanently causing a shift in time and space, resulting in flashpoint.
“—Damn, you actually deaf? Barry!”
Barry nearly jumped out of his skin as David’s calloused hands grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him roughly.
“God—! What, David?! Seriously man, don’t ambush people like that! You nearly gave me a heart attack…”
Barry clumsily stumbled backwards. He slouched, grabbing at his knees for support while panting for air. His heartbeat thudded in his ears as his surroundings slowly returned to him. He was back at the yard. He was back at Fox River.
Somewhere along the line, David pulled Barry straight up by the elbow, wrapping a hand around his side and supporting him by the waist.
“Yeah, I’ve been saying your name on loop for the past five minutes now. You know how weird it was watching you walk in circles, whisperin’ to yourself like some junkie?” David scolded, his poorly-hidden concern evident with each word he spoke.
Five minutes. Barry hadn’t let his thoughts wander to such an extent in ages. He muttered a quick ‘thank-you’ before gently slipping out of David’s grasp.
“Look, I’m sorry, man, I didn’t mean to worry you or anything. It’s just something I do sometimes — thinking a lot.” Barry hadn’t meant to completely unravel, to retreat to the depths of his memory. If the expression on David’s face was anything to go by, Barry looked like a mess.
Not only had he accidentally tapped into the box of his most painful memories, he had practically broadcasted to everyone in the yard how vulnerable he truly was.
He hadn’t even begun to unpack the mess of a reaction he had to seeing Snart’s doppelgänger.
Barry scanned his eyes across the vast area of the yard, trying to remember where he, David, Not-Snart and T-Bag had been before he dragged himself and David away.
“If you’re looking for the guy you couldn’t stop staring at, he’s gone. ‘Ditched to go inside with some Mexican guy.” David’s tone carried some sort of amusement in it. Barry couldn’t understand why. “Anyway, the cops said everyone had like, three minutes left outside. ‘Wanna start making our way back to our cell?”
Barry nodded. He was so exhausted that lying down on a springy, low-quality prison bunk bed sounded like heaven.
As the two trudged their way out of the yard and into the main compound, Barry could feel David eyes on him. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was unsure whether now was a good time.
Barry, in a moment of high graciousness, decided to entertain whatever thought was bubbling in the kid’s mind.
“Alright whatever’s going through your head right now, ask away. I can practically see you thinking, David.”
In response to Barry’s words, David tried to play it off, laughing and sputtering before finally giving in to his curiosity.
“Nothing it’s jus’— do you know that guy? I meant what I said, you were looking at him the whole damn time. I couldn’t get a word between you ‘n him if I tried. And he helped us out, right? ‘Told that creepy motherfucker to fuck off and all. You two friends or somethin’? Is he looking out for us?”
Barry climbed up the stairs to his and David’s shared cell. The both of them really lucked out in terms of cellmate arrangements. Barry carefully crawled into the bottom bunk, being mindful not to hit his head. He figured David would appreciate the top bunk better.
“No,” Barry replied, hesitating ever-so-slightly. He tried to ignore the disappointment weighing heavy in his stomach. “Me and that guy back there, we don’t know each other. I guess I thought… Whoever he was, he just, had one of those faces, you know?”
David didn’t speak right away. He took the time to think about Barry’s answer. Whether or not David bought it, he didn’t know. The kid ended up dropping the topic entirely though, making Barry relax slightly.
When yard time was officially over, the remaining prisoners outside were herded back into their cells. Officers made their rounds of attendance before all cells in the prison eventually locked and closed.
With nothing else to occupy himself with, Barry curled on his side and stared off into the distance. While he was appreciative of David’s company, it didn’t change the fact that he was still stranded on an unknown earth. He was still so alone. Barry tried to remember the sound of his parents’ voice and mimic it in his head as he searched for some semblance of comfort.
———
“Hey, Papi, I wanna ask you something.”
Michael— Leonard threw a careful glance behind himself, making sure no CO was in sight before unscrewing the bolts of the cell toilet.
“Go on,” He replied inattentively, the majority of his focus still directed towards his current task. He needed to find the right angle, the right positioning. The bolt he had stolen and filed down needed to be shaped to perfection. There were a handful of variables that demanded strict accuracy if Leonard wanted to pull this off. Literally and figuratively.
“Any closer to taking that thing down?” Sucre asked. He leaned against the bars of their cell, providing Leonard an extra layer of security. Sucre held a mirror slightly outside the gap of the bars and watched the reflection for any movement. So far, the coast was clear.
“It’s getting there,” Leonard managed to unscrew one of the two bolts. One down, one more to go. “But that’s not what you meant to ask me, isn’t it?”
Sucre paused, staring at Leonard before casting one last glance outside. He walked the short distance across the floor of their cell before crouching just behind Leonard. Both bolts of the toilet were unscrewed now.
“‘Heard you told T-Bag to take a walk,” Sucre began. He was definitely beating around the bush.
“He was bothering a kid,” Now that Leonard knew he could unscrew the toilet successfully, he took one of the bolts, screwing it back to the wall. “I told T-Bag to cut him a break. You know how he is.”
“There was another guy there too, no? With the kid, I mean?”
Leonard paused. His right hand twitched ever-so-slightly.
“Word says you two got into long-ass staring contest or something. He say anything weird to you—?”
“No.” Leonard replied a little too suddenly, a little too loudly. He cleared his throat before going back to screwing.
“He recognize you from before you got here?”
Sucre, for as useful as an asset he was, could really get on Leonard's nerves at times. He was unexpectedly perceptive, especially when he just couldn’t stop talking.
“I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me. We don’t know each other.”
“Yeah? Then why were you staring at him the whole time you were out with me? And when we were walking inside, your neck was turning back like an owl, you know.”
Damn, had Leonard really been so transparent?
“You’re reading too much into it, Sucre. I just didn’t want them getting mixed up with T-Bag, that’s all.” Which was true, to an extent. In the time Leonard spent at Fox River, he had heard all sorts of stories about the type of man Theodore Bagwell was. A murderer, rapist and pedophile. If Leonard still had his cold gun, T-Bag would be a block of ice.
“Alright, man,” Sucre raised both of his hands in surrender. Not that Leonard saw the gesture, he was adamant on hiding whatever expression he had, whatever troubled thoughts Sucre could easily read. “I’m gonna take a nap before dinner. Wake me up a few minutes before?”
Leonard nodded, slightly relieved at the sound of Sucre climbing to the top bunk bed. No more interrogations, no more well-meant prying.
Before Leonard stood up to walk to his own bunk, he gave the now re-attached toilet a few strong tugs. When he was sure it was secure, he crawled into his space and leaned his back to the wall. Unlike Sucre, Leonard wouldn’t be getting any rest anytime soon.
Leonard let his head bang against the pale concrete and stared at the framing of Sucre’s bunk. It had been approximately three and a half months, one-hundred-seven days, two-thousand five-hundred-sixty-eight hours since he sacrificed himself to save everyone from the Time Masters. He had fully made amends with the fact that he was a dead man — that he, as much as he disliked the idealistic notion, would die a hero.
Then, Leonard awakened to a completely different life. No Legends, no metahumans.
No Scarlet Speedster.
Memories of a life he had never lived had flooded his mind. Instead of a thief, he was an accomplished structural engineer. In this life, he hadn’t dropped out in high school. Michael graduated university as Magna Cum Laude with a Bachelor’s and Master’s of science in civil engineering. He had an older brother, Lincoln, who bore a disturbing resemblance to Mick.
In an act of universal irony, Lincoln was arrested, sentenced to execution for a murder he didn’t commit. His appeals had all been exhausted, cementing the execution in stone. It was up to Leonard to prevent Lincoln’s death. If he was willing to do anything to save his sister, he would do the same for his newfound brother.
He had already saved Mick once, he could do it again.
For three and a half months, Leonard dove into extensive research on government officials, Fox river architecture, and criminals with the potential to be key pieces on Leonard’s vast playing board.
Leonard had made the plan, he could execute the plan.
This plan, however, could in no way, shape or form go off the rails.
And he sure as hell couldn’t throw away the plan.
But now, a wrench had been thrown in Leonard’s meticulously-thought out escape. The blueprints he had painstakingly tattooed on his body provided no play for the unexpected contingency that was Barry Allen.
Barry’s arrival raised so many questions. Earth-177 (As his portable Gideon discovered before completely disintegrating) was a rare case amongst the endless earths of the multiverse. It had absolutely no dark matter or extraterrestrial activity, meaning all meta-humans, aliens or otherwise would be rendered completely powerless.
The worst part, Leonard discovered, was that Earth-177’s signature was extremely difficult to trace from other earths. Its lack of any abnormal activity whatsoever meant that anyone searching would have no reason to spare a glance at the earth. With no hope of returning to Earth-1, Leonard fully assumed his new identity as Michael Scofield. There was nothing else he could do.
So why and how had Barry Allen, Earth-1’s Barry Allen, stared at him with complete recognition and understanding? How the hell had he uttered a name that no longer existed?
“Oh Barry…” Leonard whispered under his breath. He hadn’t uttered that name, or any other name from Earth-1 in months. He shook his head, pinching the top of his nose bridge.
“What have you gotten yourself into?”