— 𝐵 —

𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 booth all by his lonesome was Snart, right in the pub Lisa had told them about. He didn't seem surprised when Barry approached him.

"Back from the dead so soon, Barry," he greeted as Barry sat on the opposite side of the booth. "Pass me the salt."

Barry humoured him. He slid the salt over, narrowly missed the beer bottle that was beside Snart's plate of food.

"Don't spill," Barry said lightly as Snart shook the salt over his fries, "it's bad luck."

Snart slammed the salt shaker on the table—on its side, so the salt spilled out.

Barry sighed. He better just cut to the chase. "Why're you working with Lewis?"

Snart barely glanced up at him. Apparently, dipping his fries in ketchup was more important.

"Lisa told us you hate him," Barry added.

"Things are . . ." Snart sighed. "Complicated, with family. As you know with your own parents, hm?"

As Snart chewed his food, Barry decided to ignore his comment—he knew the other man was just trying to get under his skin—and he pushed, "Tell me what's going on. Let me help you."

"Don't waste your time trying to save people who don't want to be saved."

"Yeah, well," Barry scoffed, "maybe it's not just about you, right? I'm betting, whatever you two are up to, innocent people are gonna get hurt."

"Don't worry," Snart replied, a little dismissively. "I remember our deal; you leave me alone, I make sure no one dies."

Snart popped another fry into his mouth. Barry sighed. Every time, Snart always became a little more frustrating to talk to.

"All right. You're a criminal, Snart." Barry clasped his hands together. "But you live by a code. It sounds to me like Lewis doesn't—like he won't care if people die. That's why I can't leave this alone."

Snart slowly nodded, grabbing a napkin and wiping his fingers. "Then everyone will know who the Flash is under that mask."

"I don't care." Barry shook his head. "I will take you down anyway—both of you."

Snart put the napkin down, and the glint in his eye made Barry a little nervous. "We'll see about that."

Barry pressed his lips together as Snart got up. Good talk.

Snart gave him an amused smile. "Thanks for dinner."

A waitress came by as Snart left, leaving the bill with Barry, who gave her a plastered smile in return. This night couldn't get any better.

A buzz in his pocket told him he was getting a call. He pulled his phone out to see that it was Joe.

Barry put the phone to his ear. "Hey, Joe, everything okay?"

"Um . . ." Joe sighed, and Barry's eyebrows furrowed. "I need to show you something."

— 𝐵 —

Bewildered, Barry flipped through the photo album of old pictures of baby Iris and her birth mother. He had one hand gripping the couch, just about the only thing keeping him tethered to reality after what Joe had confessed to him.

"Iris' mom is alive," Barry uttered in disbelief.

"I lied to Iris. You. Everybody," Joe admitted, his arms folded as he paced the living room.

"Why?"

Joe shrugged. "I feel like I didn't have a choice," he replied with a small sigh, slowly sitting beside Barry on the couch. "Francine did so many things wrong. Just about everything. I don't know . . . Now I feel like my one wrong might be worse."

Barry pressed his lips together, his gaze flicking between the photos and Joe's sullen expression. If there was anything he knew about Joe, it was that this guilt would eat him up; it wouldn't matter to him if he had the best, most valid reasons in the world—all that mattered was that he lied to his daughter. The least Barry could do was try to make him feel better, even by a smidge.

Barry closed the album and placed it on the coffee table. "Look, Joe. I've known you for, you know, most of my life, and I know that you always have a good reason for the decisions you make. And, obviously, you were worried that Iris would go down the wrong path if Francine raised her. I mean, look at Snart—he's a criminal because he had Lewis for a father. That could have been me."

Joe gave him an incredulous expression. "Oh, come on. Never."

"Yeah, because I had you." Barry smiled, lightly slapping Joe's arm with the back of his hand. "And so did Iris. You just gotta . . . trust in that and tell her the truth."

Joe frowned, slinging an arm back on the couch. "Yeah, how do I do that without hurting her?"

"She's not a little girl anymore," he pointed out, his eyebrows raised. "You should've seen her in action the other day—putting her neck on the line for a story. She can handle anything that comes her way."

"I've just lied to her for so long, I'm scared she's not gonna understand or forgive me. I could lose her."

"No," Barry reassured him with full confidence. "She's gonna forgive you. You just . . . gotta give her a chance."

Joe pursed his lips. Barry could tell he wasn't fully convinced based on the little wrinkle over his eyebrows and the slight puff of his cheeks, though he didn't press any further. There really wasn't anything else he could say.

"Thanks, Barr," he finally said. "You, uh . . . You gonna spend the night?"

Barry shook his head. "I'm staying at Soph's. Speaking of" —he checked his watch and sighed— "I should get going."

Joe stood up with him. He embraced him, and Barry wrapped his arms tightly around him. Joe's body deflated a little.

"Thanks for listening," Joe muttered, pulling away.

Barry smiled. "Anytime, Joe."

Sophia was already in bed by the time Barry sped over to her place. She was cozied up beneath her blanket, though she was still awake, her face practically inside the book she was reading.

"Oh, hi, Rasp-Barry," she greeted as he leaned over her, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "Where were you? I thought you weren't gonna end up coming."

"Sorry," he sighed, walking over to the dresser and pulling his designated drawer open. As he pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a black tee, he continued, "I was talking with Joe."

"This late?" she questioned, sitting up and putting her book on the nightstand. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Well . . ." Barry tightened his lips as he changed into his pyjamas. Without a doubt, he knew he could tell Sophia and trust her to keep the secret. Besides, it's not like Joe told him not to . . . "We were talking about Iris' mom."

"Her mom?" she repeated in confusion. "Isn't she . . . Didn't she pass away?"

"That's what he told us." He raised his eyebrows, tossing his clothes into the hamper and getting into the bed. "And it's what I believed . . . till about two hours ago."

Her eyes narrowed. "What are you saying? She's alive?"

Barry nodded as he leaned back against the headboard. "She, uh . . . She was a drug addict. When Iris was a kid." He sighed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "And one day, back when Joe was a beat cop, he got a call from a kid that her mother had overdosed."

"It was Iris and her mom?" she guessed hushedly.

"Mhm." Barry's lips settled into a frown. "The oven was left on—but luckily, Iris was okay. Her mom pulled through, went to rehab, but . . . I guess she thought it was for the best that she left them. Joe thought it'd be easier to not tell Iris all the upsetting details and just say that she died."

"Wow." Sophia pressed her hands on her face, and through the gaps between her fingers, he could see her pinched eyebrows. "So—so why tell you now? Why not just take that to the grave?"

"Her mom showed up at CCPD. She wanted to talk to Iris," he told her. "So now Joe needs to tell Iris the truth."

"Jesus. That's . . ." She shook her head. "I mean, we deal with crazy stuff all the time, but this somehow . . ."

"Takes the cake?" Barry finished for her as she snuggled into his side. "Yeah."

"Well, good luck to him." She sighed. "That's gonna be a tough conversation."

He scoffed in amusement. "Tell me about it."

— 𝐵 —

Joe lifted the police tape for Barry to duck under.

Patty was waiting for them, her arms clasped behind her back.

"Don't worry, sir, I waited for you this time," she said to Joe as they approached her. "Okay," she admitted, turning on her heel as they began to walk toward a covered body that had been loaded onto a truck. "I may have done a quick preliminary assessment of my own—something is definitely weird."

Barry's eyebrows furrowed as Patty lifted the top of the yellow body bag. The head was missing.

As Joe muttered, "Oh," Barry stated, "Decapitation. Yikes."

"We're still recovering parts of the head, so the ID is taking a little longer than normal," she said, putting the plastic back down. She let out an exclaim as she stepped back, causing them to look at her in alarm. "Ugh! Sorry. I thought I stepped on an ear. I didn't. If I did, I'd be hearing things."

"Oh, hell no," Joe mumbled, turning around.

Barry chuckled, opening up his case of tools and slipping on latex gloves.

"It doesn't look like the head was sliced off with any weapon I'm familiar with," Patty said, lifting the plastic for him. "And I'm familiar with most weapons."

"Yeah, you're right," Barry muttered, looking closer at the neck. "Perforation around the neck is too jagged—it's almost like the head was blown off."

"Like a meta-human who can explode heads, right?"

Barry shook his head. "Not necessarily." He pulled out his thermal camera, which immediately beeped as soon as he turned it on. He squinted at the screen. "Traces of thermite."

"Bomb residue?" Patty questioned.

"Uh huh," he confirmed.

"But then why wasn't the rest of the body blown apart?"

He glanced at her. "I don't know."

"The victim is David Rutenberg, security systems expert," said Joe, returning with an open folder now in his hands. "And guess who's on his list of known associates."

Barry nodded for him to go on.

"Lewis Snart."

"Lewis Snart?" repeated Patty, pausing from jotting Joe's words in her notebook. "Isn't he related to Leonard Snart, AKA Captain Cold?"

Joe shook his head. "Please don't call him that."

Her excited expression dropped. "Okay."

"Uh, one second," muttered Barry to Patty. He put a hand on Joe's back and led him a few steps back. "I think this guy is part of Snart's crew."

"So, Snart put a bomb in him to keep him in line?" questioned Joe.

"No, Snart wouldn't do that," replied Barry. "But his father would."

"Wait, so Lewis is killing people, and Snart's still working with him?" he asked incredulously. "What happened with the deal you had?"

They stopped beside the yellow tape. Barry sighed. "Maybe he doesn't have a choice."

"So you think Lewis put a bomb in his own son to force him to pull off a heist?" Joe stated.

"Snart still wouldn't do it," Barry muttered, shaking his head. "He'd dig the bomb out of his own head if he had to."

He raised his eyebrows. "So there must be something else that Snart cares about."

"The only thing Snart cares about," Barry realized, "is his sister."

— 𝑆 —

Sophia walked into the Cortex to see Barry, suited up, holding a magnet beside Lisa's neck, Caitlin just beside him.

Her eyes widened. "Put the magnet down!"

They turned to her, eyes widened. Barry pulled the magnet away, raising his other hand in defence. Her exclamation even got Cisco to rush out of the Med Lab.

To their questioning eyes, she sighed and hurried toward them. "This is a really concentrated bomb. It's gonna combust if it's exposed to magnetic friction and an oxidant."

Barry and Caitlin took a step back.

Lisa, understandably, was freaked out. "What's she talking about?"

"Air," Barry told her. "Uh . . . The—the bomb will explode if it comes in contact with air."

"Don't worry, Lisa. We're gonna find another way to get it out," Cisco said gently. He turned to the others. "Scientific minds, can we confer, please?"

As they walked towards the Med Lab, Caitlin suggested, "What if the Flash speed-extracts it?"

"No, it's too risky." Cisco shook his head as they entered the room.

"Cisco and I'll find a way to get it out," Sophia sighed, putting a reassuring hand on Cisco's shoulder. "We just need a little time."

"Well, we need to keep track of Lewis until you guys figure out how to disarm the bomb," Barry pointed out.

"I wish we knew what he was gonna steal next," Caitlin muttered. "And when."

"Maybe I can get them to tell me," murmured Barry. "Their tech guy is dead, so I'm betting they're gonna need a new one. I'm saying I'm gonna infiltrate Lewis' crew."

"You're going to pretend to be a criminal?" incredulously asked Sophia.

Barry shrugged. "How hard can it be?"

— 𝐵 —

Barry spread his arms out. "So? Do I look like a hardened criminal now?"

"I'm pretty sure a black shirt and leather jacket aren't gonna be that cute face," laughed Sophia, sitting on the edge of her desk in the workshop. "But you definitely do look . . . more emo?"

"Shut up." Barry rolled his eyes in amusement, resting his hands on the outside of her thighs.

"Please be careful, though," she sighed, cupping his cheeks. "You know, one slip-up, and he'll shoot you."

He laughed. "I think you're forgetting that I'm the Flash."

She shook her head, pinching his cheek. "The Flash can make mistakes, too."

"He won't," he reassured her.

"Good. Because otherwise, he'll have a very angry girlfriend."

"Oh, well," he chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm sure he doesn't want that."

He pressed his lips against hers. The warmth of her hands tickled the back of his neck. He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her in as he tilted his head.

His thumbs brushed along her sides, feeling the curve of her waist beneath the fabric. She responded by tugging him even closer, her fingers threading into his hair.

"So . . . you guys gonna just keep making out, or are you gonna get around to saving lives at some point?"

"Sorry," Barry muttered as he pulled away from her. Cisco was glaring from the entrance. "I'll go now."

"Mhm. Thank you."

"I better get back to figuring out how to save Lisa's life, anyway," Sophia sighed, getting off of the desk. She placed a hand on his cheek. He leaned into her touch. "Be safe, okay?"

"Always." He smiled. "I love you, Snowpea."

She pecked his lips. "I love you, too."

Snart apparently didn't even have to look to know that Barry had entered the warehouse he and his father were hiding out in.

"These visits are getting old."

Barry scoffed lightly as he came up behind the man. "Third time's a charm."

Snart got up, whipping round to face him as his gun powered up. "I told you. I don't need saving."

"But your sister does," Barry pointed out. He took a step closer to Snart. "I know your dad put a bomb in Lisa. And Lewis told you he'd kill her if you didn't help him, right? Look, don't worry. My team's working on a way to remove the bomb."

"Hope you got that gun of yours ready to blast," came the gruff voice of Lewis, who quickly appeared from behind Snart, "'cause . . ." He stared at Barry, straightening up. "Who the hell is this?"

"Uh, I'm . . ." Barry plastered a smile on his face. "Lenny said you need a new tech. What's up?" He held a hand out toward Lewis, who was still staring at him with a look similar to disgust. "I'm—I'm Sam. What's up?"

Lewis took a couple of slow steps forward, his eyes flicking between Barry's outstretched hand and face. He let out a low chuckle and turned to his son. "You tellin' me you think this kid can crack a Draycon keypad?"

"Well, I did help Snart steal the Kahndaq Dynasty Diamond from Central City Museum last year," interjected Barry. "That was locked up behind an AmerTek Industries Phase Three Suppression Door with a Draycon XL-twelve-eighteen keypad." He chuckled. "So . . ."

"Couldn't have done it without him," Snart added.

Barry made sure to not let the relief show on his face. He had convinced Snart. Thank God.

He offered Lewis a grin. "Draycon's my jam."

"Ah . . ." Lewis' mouth dropped into a snarl as he stepped closer. "Okay . . . Sam. Let's go." He shoved past Barry.

"Right now?" Barry asked in surprise, turning to Lewis.

"You got a problem with that?"

"No." Barry raised his hands, shaking his head. "All good. Can't wait."

Snart gave him a smirk before following his father out of the room.

"Oh," Barry sighed to himself, "this should be fun."

A quick change into custodian outfits, and they walked into the building of their next target. Barry pushed a cleaning cart, Snart and Lewis on either side of him.

"Keep quiet," instructed Lewis, "and follow my lead."

"Just like old times," muttered Snart.

They approached the front desk, where two security guards had their focus on the computer screen, which was showing a baseball game.

"You watching the Diamonds game?" asked Lewis, the guards' heads turning to them.

"Yeah. The Salamanders are killing 'em," replied the shorter guard, smiling. He nodded. "IDs."

They each pulled off the fake ID attached to their uniform, placing it on the desk.

"What floor are you going to?" asked the guard as the other one stood up.

"Twenty-seventh," Lewis replied.

The other guard grabbed Lewis' ID and scanned it. It beeped—denied. He tried again, just for the same sound to ring out.

As he tried a third time, Lewis slowly lifted up one of the cleaning tools, revealing a gun stashed in the bucket.

"Hey," Barry quickly interjected before Lewis could grab it. "What's the hold up, guys? I mean, you wanna call management and explain why the toilets are still overflowing?"

The two guards glanced at each other apprehensively.

Barry shrugged. "We're all on the clock, right?"

He held his breath.

"Yeah," quickly agreed the shorter guard. "You guys are good to go."

"Thanks." Barry smiled, sighing a small breath of relief as he took his ID back and attached it.

"Enjoy the game, guys," said Lewis.

"Diamonds don't stand a chance," replied the taller guard, taking his seat again.

Lewis grinned. "Not tonight, they don't."

On the twenty-seventh floor, Lewis led them down the hall. He suddenly paused before they could turn the corner.

"Oh, hold on. Do you hear that?"

"I got it," whispered Barry, walking to the edge. He pulled out his phone, swiping to the camera. He stuck his phone out to see down the hall—two more security guards were walking down, the glint of their holstered guns evident. As he turned back to the two, putting his phone away, he whispered, "It's two armed guards."

"Guess your timing didn't work out after all," angrily muttered Snart to his father.

"Yeah," he replied, "that's why we got a plan B."

"'Cause you always needed one."

"Yeah, but . . ." Lewis walked toward the cart and pulled the gun out. "Your sister turned out to be a disappointment also."

Barry held back his groan as Lewis cocked the gun. He did not talk his way out of Lewis shooting the other two guards for it to happen now.

Given that Lewis had his back to him, Barry had a simple solution: He sped toward the guards, moving them down to the first floor before speeding back to original position. He figured leaving them bewildered on how they got there was a hell of a lot better than dying.

"Hey," he called to the two, "what do you guys say we get on with the job?" He jabbed his thumb back at the hallway as Lewis and Snart looked at him. "Guards are gone. I don't know, must've taken a break."

"Yeah," muttered Snart, grabbing his cold gun from one of the buckets. "Must've."

As they walked to the end of the hall, where the brown elevator door stood out among the grey ones lining the hall, Lewis said, "Okay Sam. Show us what you got."

"Yeah. All right." Barry exhaled as he stood in front of the keypad. "I'll just . . ."

He became aware of a presence hovering over his shoulder. Obviously, he was no hacking mastermind—he had Felicity for that—so he had to resort to speed. That meant he couldn't have Lewis watching him.

"You guys just keep a lookout," he told Lewis before gesturing toward the keypad, "and I'll . . ."

That seemed to be enough to get Lewis to turn around.

Barry locked his gaze on the screen. He began to speed his fingers through every combination, starting with all zeros. The beeping was faint enough for only him to hear, luckily, so Lewis couldn't hear how quickly the buttons were being pressed and every 'ACCESS DENIED' he got.

Finally, the screen turned green. 'ACCESS GRANTED.' Barry sighed in relief.

The door whirred as it slid open.

Barry pumped a fist. He grinned, turning to Snart and Lewis. "Told you Draycon was my jam."

He chuckled as the two headed into the elevator.

"Nice job, Sam," remarked Lewis. "It's good to go out on a high note."

Time slowed as Lewis raised the gun and fired, the sound blasting in Barry's ears. He caught the bullet just before it could hit just where his heart was. He threw himself to the ground.

When he heard the elevator door close, he knew it was safe to open his eyes. He inspected the bullet he caught for a moment before getting up.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled the number that would connect him to the Cortex.

"Cisco?" he asked as soon as the phone was picked up. "How you doin' with Lisa?"

"Uh, kind of in the middle of it right now, buddy!"

"All right," Barry said quickly. "We need that bomb out." He sped back to the Cortex, changing into his suit before returning to his spot. "The heist is going down right now."

He put his phone away, now that he had his earpiece keeping him connected. He ran into the vault, where Lewis and Snart were still standing, the safe door cracked wide open and its glittering contents obviously now in Lewis' bag.

"Let's get out of here," said Lewis, replying to something his son had said.

As Snart pointed his cold gun at him, Barry said, "Only place you're going is back to Iron Heights, Lewis."

"Ah . . ." Lewis smiled. "You wanna bet?"

"Do I wanna bet?" repeated Barry, more to Cisco.

"Do not bet! Give me a minute!"

Okay, he needed to buy a little time. He needed to talk.

"Tell me this," said Barry, taking a step closer. "What kind of man puts a bomb in his own daughter?"

"A very rich man."

"Ah." Barry nodded. Clearly, this man was sane.

Lewis pulled out a detonator—the one that would set off Lisa's bomb, Barry was sure.

"Shoot him, son," instructed Lewis.

Snart didn't move. Barry pleaded with him silently. Just a few more seconds.

Lewis tilted his head, growing impatient. "Kill him, or you'll never see your sister alive."

Barry's stare was intent. The crackle of the cold gun was growing louder. Snart was scrunching his face—unsure.

"I got the bomb out!"

Barry's eyes widened. "Lisa's safe."

His eyebrows furrowed, Lewis turned toward Snart.

Snart turned the gun toward him, and this time, he pulled the trigger. A blast of ice shot into his chest, and he dropped onto his knees. The chunk of ice had fully gone through his chest and out his back, blood frozen at the edges of the wound.

Barry stared at the dying man in shock. He had no clue Snart would do that—especially now that Lisa was okay.

"You're working with the Flash?" Lewis wheezed out, frost creeping over his clothes and skin. "I thought you hated him."

"Not as much," spat Snart, "as I hate you."

Lewis fell forward. The ice shattered as he hit the ground.

Snart kneeled beside his father. 

Gently, Barry took the cold gun from him. Snart didn't fight back.

"Lisa was safe," softly said Barry. "Why did you do that?"

Snart looked up at him. "He broke my sister's heart. Only fair I break his."

— 𝐵 —

Barry gazed at Snart, who was sitting on the opposite side of the glass. The phone pressed against his ear, Barry told him, "Last time I was in Iron Heights, I was visiting my dad."

"Yeah, me, too."

"And yet you killed him."

"He deserved it."

Barry chuckled.

Snart's eyebrows pinched together. "Is that funny to you?"

"No." Barry shook his head. "What's funny, is I finally figured out your secret."

"And what secret would that be?"

"You'd do anything to protect your sister," Barry stated.

Snart stared at him for a moment before tilting his head. "Well, I know your secret, too. Better hope I don't talk in my sleep."

"You won't," Barry replied confidently. He leaned forward. "Today just proved what I've always known. There's good in you, Snart."

Snart only stared at him in reply. That told Barry more than words would've.

"Yeah, you don't have to admit it to me," Barry murmured. "But there's a part of you that knows you don't have to let your past define you. A part of you that really wants to be more than just a criminal."

"So I should be a hero like you, Barry," Snart humoured him. "What exactly does that pay again?"

Barry ignored that remark. "It's just a matter of time. Something you'll have a lot of in here."

"Not as much as you think. Be seein' you."

Snart hung the phone up. As the prison guards grabbed a hold of his arms, he smirked down at Barry.

Barry sighed as he stood up. He had no doubt Snart's last statement was true.

Joe was waiting at the back of the room, his arms folded. "You really think that leopard's gonna change its spots?"

Barry sighed as he leaned against the wall, staring at the spot where he had just been sitting. "I do." He pursed his lips. "Maybe we should transfer him to the meta-human wing anyway."

"I already got Patty on the paperwork," Joe reassured him.

"All right."

Joe nodded toward the door. The two of them headed out.

"Hey," Joe suddenly said as they entered the hallway, "I wanted to thank you for the advice you gave." He slapped a hand on Barry's shoulder. "I told Iris. She's going to sit down with Francine."

Barry smiled, slinging an arm around Joe's shoulder. He was glad it had gone well—not that he had expected anything else.

"It was hard," he admitted, "but it was for the best."

"I'm glad." Barry nodded. "Anytime."

"You're a good son, Barry."

He grinned. "I know."