Barry

Whether or not Parker liked Caitlin, Barry needed her helping to find their missing friend.

After a few calls and no answer, Barry decided to wait an hour or two, thinking that Parker was still sleeping.

Never once did he think about the possibility of her being kidnapped.

Joe pressed a hand on Barry's shoulder. "There's no sign of Caitlin."

Barry ran his fingers over the ice on the side of her car. "We have to get her back. We have to find Snart."

"Damn right we do."

>>>>

Exposed to the hectic atmosphere of the CCPD, Barry gained a wave of determination. 

Stopping his split from Joe, Eddie jogged to pair, holding a manila folder in his hand.

"Uh, we found a second pair of prints. They belong to Mick Rory."

Joe flipped open the folder, tilting it to show Barry the picture. Barry quickly deduced that was --as Cisco called him-- Heat Wave.

"Who is he?" Barry asked.

"Big-time arsonist. He and Snart worked a job last year that went bad. Half of Rory's body was burned in a fire that got out of control. He escaped from an ambulance on the way to the hospital, and hasn't been seen since," Eddie continued.

In the time of the explanation, the three had walked to Joe's desk.

Thawne turned, his hands hooked on his belt. He brought his eyes to meet Barry's, weariness present throughout his body language.

"Barry, there's one other thing," Eddie started carefully.

"Oh, God," Joe mumbled, his eyes staring sadly at the contents of the folder. Staying quiet, Joe passed the folder to Barry.

A picture of Parker had been paper clipped underneath Mick Rory's.

"Parker," Barry mumbled, his finger running over her picture. "They--"

"We found her finger prints on the ice. We think she may have touched it, or something, but it's good she did. Without it, we wouldn't know they had her."

"Guys," Joe said.

The two followed his gaze to the television screen.

Heat Wave and Captain Cold held their two captives on the television screen.

>>>>>>

"I don't suppose singing a beautiful version of 'Let it Go' would be enough for you to let us go?" Parker tried.

"Nice try, sweetheart."

Parker wasn't afraid of Captain Cold, because he seemed to hold an interest in her. In a desperate situation, she could use that against him.

The other man had her concerned. Manned with a heat gun, and an obvious recklessness, he was unpredictable.

It was also quite unfortunate Parker's biggest fear was being burned alive.

Her other fear (smaller than the rest, yet still present) was Barry. No matter how much she reprimanded him about keeping calm when civilians, or people he knew were involved in a meta-human scheme, she didn't know if he could keep his head cool.

Captain Cold crouched in front of her, his hands sliding beside her legs, feeling around the wooden chair she was tied to.

Parker maintained eye contact, glaring into his sunglasses. The glare in her eyes faltered when she felt the rope removed from her wrists.

"You're going to perform a task for me, Parker," Captain Cold said.

"The only word I got out of that sentence was 'perform,'" Parker retorted. She cleared her throat, opened her mouth and sung the first word of 'Let it Go.'

Expecting that, a piece of duct tape was slapped over her mouth by the other man.

Captain Cold took her arm. Sitting her in a chair in front of a computer, he turned on the monitor. 

"You're going to broadcast something for me. Through the entire city."

My performance of Let it Go.. Parker wryly thought.

Parker took the wire that went from the camera to the computer and secured it into the USB. Using some illegal programs and tech skills that were taught to her by Felicity, Captain Cold's wish was granted.

"Bring the other one," Captain Cold ordered.

While the maniac was bringing Caitlin, Cold grabbed Parker's hoodie and threw her from the chair.

Parker placed her hands on the floor to stand, but Captain Cold lightly tapped her hand with the tip of his shoe.

Panic washed over her, then a great sense of relief. She had just gotten over the sling-- a few broken fingers on the same injured arm would be hell.

Cold stood next to Parker, holding his gun up menacingly.

Between Caitlin's whimpering and Parker's duct taped mouth, they had presented quite the scene.

"Would you like to press the button, doll?" Cold wondered. He held out a remote to her, his finger lingering on the play button.

Parker's eyes fell into slits.

"Suit yourself," Cold muttered. He pointed the remote at the camera and pressed the play button, tossing the remote behind him.

Coincidentally (or maybe on purpose) it bopped Parker on top of her head.

"Oh, you cold fuck!" she snapped, but considering the duck tape over her mouth, that wasn't what it sounded like.

"Greetings, citizens of Central City. I am Leonard Snart, but you can call me Cold.

That red streak you've been hearing whispers about; the one mysteriously saving people these last few months.. Well, surprise: he's real. Calls himself the Flash.

Porter and Main-- sundown. Come out, come out, wherever you are, Flash. Show the whole world you're real. Or these women die."

Parker predicted Caitlin's cry of, "No! Don't come for us! Stay away!" 

>>>>>>>

Tied to creaky little wooden chairs, Parker and Caitlin were sitting across from each other.

The fire maniac crouched in between them, flicking the lighter on and off.

"You two friends of his, huh? He's fast. Like fire. Fire.. It's.. Undefinable. Heat, light, energy. It's an evolution when things burn."

"You're sick," Caitlin spat.

"Maybe you're the sick ones. Ever think about that?"

"Not really," Caitlin's eyes flickered to Parker, who stared at Mick's arms, hoping Caitlin would be smart enough to connect the dots.

"You've got third degree burns. No skin grafts?" Caitlin asked.

Parker nodded her head proudly.

"The fire revealed my true self; showed me who I really am. I wonder what the Flash will reveal when I burn his suit and skin off."

"Do whatever you want to me, but leave him alone."

"Ooh, okay," he chuckled.  "You and this Flash must be close if you're willing to die for him. You want me to show you who you really are?"

Parker felt his hand brush over her ankle as he snatched his gun from the floor.

With her top half tied to the chair, her feet were free, but not within reach of anything good, since the gun was taken.

What she did have were shoes. Size seven, harmless sneakers, but were useful, in a way that Parker didn't know yet.

If she could lift her foot to where her arms were tied down, she could probably achieve something with those shoes.

"Mick. Time to go," Cold said. As he passed by, he sent a smirk to Parker.

Sarcastically, she winked.

Clicking a button on the bomb touching the girls' toes, Mick said, "You better pray the next people who come through that door is us."

Parker stayed silent until she heard the garage door slide shut. A series of curse words were said through her duct tape.

A bomb?! Oh my God. How big would the blast be? Like big or a little poof?

Parker stared at her shoes. There was something to be done with those shoes. They were going to save their lives.

But how?

Duct tape over Caitlin's mouth, she made noises until Parker looked at her.

Caitlin jumped slightly, aiming to scoot her chair from the bomb.

"Mhh," Parker disagreed, shaking her head.

Due to freedom of bonds at her ankles, as Cold had done a shit job tying her up, Parker slipped her foot out of her shoe.

Caitlin tilted her head curiously.

Parker stared between her shoe and the bomb.

Disrupting what could have been the greatest escape in history, the garage door creaked open.

No, it's too soon. They haven't killed Barry in that time. He's not that dumb.

"Caitlin?" A voice called. Cisco.

"Parker!" Joe.

Parker and Caitlin met each other's eyes in a panic. They couldn't let Joe and Cisco come further-- not without harming all four of them.

"Mmhh!" The girls shouted, their version of 'Don't!'

What Cisco didn't see was them frantically shaking their heads, or Parker jerking her feet in the air, desperately trying to keep him away.

Relieved to see his friends, Cisco ran up the stairs and proceeded to trip over the wire.

"Cisco, down!" Joe screamed.

Parker kicked Caitlin's chair legs, shoving their chairs a couple feet from the small blast. 

That's IT? That's the blast that was going to supposedly kill us? What a buzz kill.

Cisco untied Parker. The first thing she did was slap his cheek.

"Ow, Park!"

"You don't listen," she snapped.

"How was I supposed to know-"

Parker ran her hand lazily down his face. "Hush, Cisco. Hush."

"We almost died," Caitlin breathed.

"First of the year," Parker mumbled.

Cisco crawled away from Parker and wrapped Caitlin in his embrace. "Not while I'm around, Cait. And Joe, of course."

"For what it's worth.. Same," Parker said.

"So, why don't you have shoes on?" Joe wondered.

Parker slipped her hands into the soles of her shoes, waving them around. "These babies were gonna save our lives. How? Don't ask. One day I'll think of a theory."