SNOWBARRY: Sometimes Runs, Sometimes Can't

Chapter 23 - I Mean It

Barry didn't sleep. He hadn't in days.

When dawn crept through the thin motel curtains, he was already up, showered, and packed. 

There was no small talk to break the tension. Just silence.

When Killer Frost finally emerged, damp hair braided back, expression as sharp as ever. He was looking through the window, contemplating. 

She eyed him with a mocking smirk. "Wow. You look even gloomier in daylight. Impressive."

Barry didn't bite. He only grabbed the keys and walked out.

By the time they hit the road, the silence between them had grown unbearable. Frost broke it, lounging back in the passenger seat, boots on the dashboard.

"You always drive like you're in a funeral procession, or is that new?"

Barry's eyes stayed locked on the road. "At least I'm not freezing the steering wheel."

She chuckled, low and cruel. "There he is. The hero with the sharp tongue. Took you long enough."

"I'm not your hero," Barry muttered.

"Good," Frost said, tilting her head toward the window. "Because I don't need saving."

The rest of the ride passed in silence, broken only by the occasional bitter jab from Frost and Barry's curt replies. 

When the tracker finally pinged louder, Felicity's coordinates leading them off the main road, Barry pulled the car onto a dirt trail that cut into the woods.

The trees closed in around them, shadows stretching long in the morning light. The signal spiked. Stronger than ever.

Barry killed the engine, grabbed his gear, and stepped out. His eyes swept the forest like a hawk, every muscle taut, every movement efficient.

"We're here," he said flatly.

Frost joined him, her breath misting in the cool air. "Finally. Let's see what your little friend left behind."

Barry didn't respond. He adjusted his jacket, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, his jaw locked hard enough to ache.

Whatever waited for them in those woods, Thawne, Cisco, hurt or worse, Barry Allen was ready.

***

The trail wound deep into the forest. Twigs snapped under their boots, the silence stretching long until Frost finally broke it. 

"You're awfully quiet, Allen."

Barry didn't look at her, eyes fixed on the tracker in his hand. "Not much to say."

She smirked, brushing a branch out of her way with a flick of frost. "That's a first. I heard you're the one to trip over yourself trying to keep everyone's spirits up. That doesn't fit your new brooding persona, I assume?"

He stopped for half a beat, jaw tight. "It doesn't."

Something flickered in her eyes. "So what does? What's left? Is it just Thawne's puppet?"

Barry turned his gaze on her then, sharp and cold. Then said as he resumed walking. "Wells-Thawne-he was the closest thing I had to a mentor. He believed in me, shaped me, or so I believed, while the entire time, it was a lie. Every word, every lesson, every moment....he was using me. To bleed me dry."

Frost raised a brow, her tone flat following suit. "Sounds like daddy issues to me."

Barry exhaled through his nose, not amused. "When I get the chance, I'll end it. For my mother. For my father, who spent all those years in jail, falsely accused of her murder. For me."