archimedes |b. allen|

lose the battle

lose the battle

This is a bad idea.

"Please tell me this is a joke," Caitlin says, crossing her arms and sweeping her eyes across the four of us: Barry, Snart, his sister, and myself all dressed up in our spandex and leather, complete with masks for Barry and I.

As I had also told Barry, so did Detective West. Working with Snart was most likely not going to end well. Regardless, we didn't have many (any) other options. So in exchange for his services (where his sister fit into all this, I wasn't sure), Snart requested to be erased from every criminal database on this earth. Which Barry actually fucking agreed to and did.

Snart's sister sucks her teeth, "You were right, Lenny. She is uptight."

Her comment about Caitlin makes my lips form a hard line. "Watch it," I warn, tossing a glare her way.

"I'd rather watch you," Snart says in a low voice, whispering so I'm the only one who hears.

"I was not speaking to you," I snap back, a scoff rolling off my tongue.

Caitlin's cheeks heat, "I am not uptight. You—you can't call me uptight."

Barry sighs, "Look, guys, we need their help if we're gonna pull this off."

"Why are you wearing your mask? Snart already knows who you are," Caitlin points out, obviously just annoyed with the whole situation.

"And I promised I wouldn't tell anyone. That includes my sister," Snart responds.

"Jerk," his sister mutters.

"Trainwreck," he bites right back.

There's just something about this pair that I love and really, really hate.

"Don't look so surprised, Detective," Snart directs his statement to Joe, though we all had confused glares on our faces. "I am a man of my word."

"Yeah, you better be," Detective West challenges. "Or I'm gonna make sure you're on that damn plane, too."

We all disperse after this, everyone going over their inventory and calculations to make sure everything is going to run perfectly during this transport.

Barry and I split off, finding my back corner of the Cortex with the table I always perch myself on. I jump on the table, swinging my legs as they dangle while Barry just keeps his masked eyes on me, a small smile spreading on his lips at my child-like actions, though I know he's so worried about how this is going to play out.

I find myself looking all over his face, memorizing what he looks like with the mask on. It's not often I see him like this and get the chance to really look at him.

"Do you still feel like Barry when the mask's on?" The words tumble out of my mouth.

His eyebrows furrow, mouth twitching, before he simply says, "Huh?"

I shake my head, eyes finding the floor as a way to hide my red cheeks. But from that view, I see him clearly take another step closer, his body just a few inches from brushing against my knees on the table.

My tongue darts out to wet my lips, rubbing them together as I get the courage to further explain myself. "Do you ever—do you feel different when the mask is on? Like do you ever feel like there's a place where Barry ends and The Flash starts?"

He squints his eyes as he ponders this, not having an answer straight away like I thought he would. I thought this would be a no-brainer for him. I always assumed Barry Allen and The Flash were one person through and through, a continuous line.