No Strings Ever Again

They flooded in on both sides, weapons trained on him. He hoped they didn't shoot him. That would make the whole heroic sacrifice thing he was doing rather pointless. He hoped they were too late. It seemed like they were too late. They were shouting at him, but the machine – the Oculus – was humming ominously.

"There are no strings on – "

"Nope!"

And suddenly he was surrounded by yellow lightning and a massive rush of noise. It felt like his vision dilated and everything around him slowed down. No, he realized, he was speeding up.

A hand yanked his arm back and simultaneously dropped something – a brick? – onto the handle within the Oculus. He felt his feet heat up and realized that the Vanishing Point was already exploding beneath him. Then Len felt his body fold as he was picked up bridal style and whisked away. And yes, this part he remembered. Being carried at super speed was not something that one easily forgot.

The rush of noise got stronger, and the lightning enveloped everything. His vision twisted and distorted into colors and shapes that he both recognized and definitely didn't.

Wonderful. He was being rescued by the Flash.

Then he landed on his feet and promptly threw up.

It took him 87 seconds to stop retching and catch his breath. That had been so much worse than that one time Barry grabbed him off his bike and stranded him in the woods. It was even worse than the time Barry had found him in Siberia in 1892 to time travel him to May 2017 to steal an alien power source.

Actually, that encounter suddenly made a lot more sense. Len had wondered, at the time, why Barry hadn't asked for help from him in his own time, in 2017. Apparently, the answer was that Len was dead. Or… was supposed to be dead.

Len inhaled deeply one more time and straightened up. They were in some woods at night again, but the stars and moonlight were rather bright.

Classic.

"Barry, what do you think you are doing here?" Len spun around to face the meddlesome speedster, planning a whole tirade. It would do no good to let him think Len was grateful.

But that plan went right off the rails.

It wasn't Barry.

"You done puking now? Great! Man, it's so great to see you again." Len suddenly found himself being rather aggressively hugged around his waist. "It's been forever, you know?" The kid – and he was a kid – stepped back. "You're not wearing your Cold gear." The kid opened Len's jacket as if to check it wasn't actually a big blue parka. "And where's your gun? Gotta say, I'm a little sad you're not in full Cold costume. I always pictured you in full Cold costume."

It wasn't Barry.

This kid definitely looked a lot like Barry. He had the same body type, and he kept tilting his head while grinning up at Len. But he was much too young. He didn't look a day over 15. His hair was too red. His outfit was white and red, and he wore yellow goggles. And he was still talking.

"The last words weren't bad, but I'm totally gonna tattle to Grandpa about that kiss with White Canary. Seriously, not cool to lead her on like that. But she is pretty hot, so that part's totally crash. Oh hey, is this a watch? Like, an actual watch? That's totally retro, but seems kinda pointless for a time traveler – "

"Okay, kid, that's enough." Len grabbed the kid's wrist from where he had been poking at Len's watch. And yes, Len wore a watch. Len left it ticking from when he left Central City in January of 2016 so that he could keep track of how much he had aged.

Len roughly pulled the kid back away from him. He needed answers, and he needed them now. If the kid took issue with the rough treatment, he didn't show it and instead just slid back where Len shoved him.

"Alright, you're not the Flash, so who the hell are you?"

"Oh. Right. Introductions. I'm Bartholomew Henry Allen. The Second." He held up two fingers and pitched his voice dramatically. He was posing. "But most people call me…"

Then the kid ran off in a blaze of lightning, straight up a nearby cliff face. He ran vertically, leaving a trail of burning rock and earth in his wake. It made a shape. A circle with a lightning bolt through it. The Flash's symbol.

The kid stopped at the foot of the mountain, arms spread wide, and shouted, "IMPULSE!"

Oh god. This was worse than Len had realized.

In another streak of lightning, the kid was back in Len's space. "Actually, most people call me Bart, but Impulse is better."

The symbol on the cliff side burned out.

Len did not sigh deeply. He was not that dramatic. "Okay, Bart. You are clearly Barry's son from the future – "

"Grandson."

"Whatever. And I learned a month ago that Barry can run fast enough to time travel, because that apparently makes sense. So where and when am I?"

"Well, I meant to take you home – Central City, 2016 – but it turns out that trying to travel in and out of a space that doesn't exist in time is really hard, so I kinda missed. But just by a couple miles and a few… decades."

"Decades?"

"But don't worry. Aiming'll be way easier from here. No problem taking you home this time. I can probably get it to the day. But I totally gotta carbo-load first, 'cause I am totally feeling the mode. Just gotta run into town. Back in a – "

"Don't you dare say it."

" - Flash!"

Then he was gone again in a blaze of yellow lightning.

"So that's what being on the other end of those puns is like."

Bart was gone for a while. Len found a way up the cliff side. There was a highway up there. Len sat down at the edge and looked out over the city lights a few miles away. If he knew his city, and he definitely did, that was Central City. Len wasn't sure what time they had ended up in, but it was good to see his city, at least.

Really good, actually.

God, he had almost died a half hour ago. Died like some idiot hero. What had he been thinking? Right. That he didn't want to abandon Mick again.

"1991."

Len turned to see Bart walk up to him, his arms loaded up with packaged food items.

"So, I didn't even miss by much. 1991's not bad. I can get you back to 2016, easy."

"I would be 19 in '91. Mick and I might be holding over a check cashing place right now."

"Maybe you'll make it into this 'newspaper' thing. It's adorable." Bart sat down next to him and dumped all the food on his other side. He handed Len a folded up newspaper and a Mountain Dew.

Len popped open the soda and took a long drink. "Wow," he deadpanned, "that is absolutely disgusting."

Bart nodded. He was already halfway through his goodies and was opening a package of Twinkies.

"So I have some questions," Len said, "and I imagine you are not going to want to answer them."

"Why wouldn't I answer them?" Bart asked around a mouthful of yellow cake and frosting.

"Because it will give me knowledge of the future? Which might affect how your past plays out?"

"Pft. That's dumb. Who cares if it changes things? So sometimes you might be a supervillain, sometimes you might be a superhero, and sometimes you might be a family man with a wife, three kids, and a mortgage."

"I hate everything about that last one."

"That's fair."

"But I thought 'time wanted to happen'."

"That's even dumber! Who told you that? Was it Rip Hunter? Sounds like Rip Hunter. I always loved your stories, but the ones with Rip Hunter had the most swearing in them."

Len chuckled. He could see that. However, it brought up a whole new mess of questions that he wasn't quite ready to ask.

Luckily, Bart kept talking. "Look, here's the thing. Time Masters are idiots. And now they're just dead, so there you go. Time is just an abstraction. It doesn't 'want' anything. I've gone in and out of timelines dozens of times. Things always change a little. Sometimes a lot. That doesn't make it good or bad or better or worse. It just is. Like, how sometimes I'll go home to visit my folks, but they'll be in a different house. Or they never got together. Or they're enemies. Or I've got six siblings."

"Jesus," Len muttered. He wondered, briefly, if Bart was incredibly lonely. "Don't you ever try to get back to your timeline?"

Bart smiled at him, and it was blinding in the moonlight. He looked like Barry. "They're all mine."

Bart finished eating. A couple cars passed them on the highway, but the few trees up here kept anyone from noticing them. Bart seemed to wind down and snuggled – actually snuggled – against Len's arm. He let him.

"Just a few minutes," Bart mumbled into the shoulder of Len's jacket. "Then I'll take you home."

Bart's breathing evened out, and Len worked up the courage to whisper, "Why was I the one to tell you stories, kid?"

"Hm. You had the best stories," Bart breathed, apparently half-asleep. "Liked the ones with you fighting Grandpa Barry. Thank you, Grandpa Lenny. I love you."

Len kept very still.

It didn't mean anything.

Maybe Len really was his grandfather on his other side of the family from Barry.

Maybe the kid called anyone of a certain age Grandpa.

But Len suspected it wasn't any of that. He rubbed a hand over his face and kept it clamped over his mouth. Len's body was very still, but that part of his chest where his heart should be, that part that was felt tight and warm and so very alive when he went up against the Scarlet Speedster, was beating very hard.

Mick knew that Snart wouldn't've liked all this. Flowers and candles and crying and a shockingly huge number of people all gathered in a city park at night to actually mourn him. In public. Lisa was sobbing into Mick's jacket. Mick tried to not think to hard about how he had threatened her life not that long ago.

Palmer had used the cold gun to freeze a fountain into an elaborate ice formation. Candles had been placed around it, making it reflect at odd angles. It was pretty. It was probably going to make all the pipes below it burst and cause all kinds of headaches for the good city employees tomorrow.

Snart would've liked that, at least.

Sara and Palmer had spoken. Lisa, too, obviously. Now the Flash was standing on the edge of the fountain, talking about how Snart had always challenged him to be better. How much he admired him.

Moron. Looked like a big red moron up there.

The Flash's whole team was here. Ramon was standing next to Lisa, rubbing her back. Mick let him get away with it, this one time. The Rogues were there. Some of Snart's criminal associates. The Legends. Even some fans from the city. One kid was holding a Captain Cold action figure. Snart would have loved that.

Then Mick tasted something in the back of his throat. Ozone and something that he could only describe as a purplish green color. It was a taste he knew well from his days as Chronos.

"Someone's time travelling here!"

Everyone startled at the interruption to Flash's speech. Rip pulled his weapon. Kendra's wings flared out.

"Where?" Sara asked.

"Not sure."

Abruptly, a wormhole spiraled to life just a few feet to Flash's right, and a streak of yellow lightning shot out. It stopped, and Leonard Snart skidded away from it. He slipped and landed in a pile on the ice of the fountain.

"Kid, you really have got to work on your landing!" Snart shouted and got to his feet, this time with a great deal more grace than his landing.

"Sorry. I'm not used to time travelling with a passenger."

"Snart?" asked Flash.

"Snart?" asked Rip.

"Snart!" shouted Mick.

"Lenny!" screamed Lisa. She elbowed Mick and Ramon away and ran for her brother. She jumped over the fountain and basically tackled him with a hug. "You stupid, idiotic jerk." Then she pulled back and slapped him hard across the face.

"Ow," Snart deadpanned and held his cheek. He looked more than a little disoriented. He was very good at hiding it when he was confused, but Mick had known the kid a long time and knew all his tells.

"How could you go off and play the hero, you idiot? Do you know what happens to heroes, Lenny?"

"They die?"

"They die, Len. Yes. Don't you ever do that again!"

Mick also stepped up onto the edge of the fountain, though he had the sense to not step on the ice. He pulled Lisa off her brother and said, "Make some space, Lisa." Then he punched Snart right across his stupid, heroic face.

Mick was much stronger than Lisa, and much, much angrier. Snart slipped on the ice and tried to grab onto to something to keep from falling on his ass. But all he grabbed was a narrow column of frozen fountain water, which broke on impact. Snart fell on his ass after all.

"No, Snart, you are not forgiven!" Mick roared at him.

"Jeez, Mick, everyone stop hitting me."

"Okay, okay, that's enough. Everyone, back off." The Flash came over and helped Snart up, but Snart just pushed him away too. Mick noticed that Snart glanced at him a little more warily than he usually did.

His nose was beginning to bleed a little. Served him right.

Snart and everyone else stepped off the fountain and looked around. They had a sizable crowd staring at them, and there was quite a bit of excited chatter. Absolutely no one looked like they were leaving.

"Is this my funeral?" Snart asked.

"June 4th, 2016," said a kid sitting on top of the fountain. He was wearing an outfit like Flash's, except this one had more white. He wore yellow goggles instead of a cowl. "The Vanishing Point has been destroyed, Vandal Savage defeated, and Grandpa has just learned what a Flashpoint Paradox is. Told ya I could get it to the day."

"Yes, but my own memorial? You got a dramatic streak in you, kid."

"Can't imagine where I got that," the kid said dryly but with a big grin on his face. He hopped down and landed like some Olympic gymnast – legs straight, arms up – in front of the Flash. "Hey Grandpa!" Then he hugged Flash around the waist.

"What? Grandpa?" the Flash sputtered, as if the relation wasn't immediately obvious. He really was a big red moron.

"You're Impulse," Rip said. "Fourth generation speedster. The one that likes to time travel for fun."

"It is fun," the kid – apparently Impulse – said.

"You realize that half of a Time Master's job is cleaning up after speedsters? You especially?"

"That makes sense."

"You are one of the most wanted people in Time Master history."

"Crash! Thanks!"

"That's not a compliment, kid," Mick said. "I even went on a few assignments hunting you."

"Really? I don't remember that, so it must be something for me to look forward to. Facing off against the bounty hunter Chronos and Grandpa's friend Heatwave? Sounds like great fun."

Mick paused. Had he been in his right mind at the time, he had to admit that chasing a speedster through time probably would have been a lot of fun. "Yeah, probably will be," he grumbled. He didn't like being called the Flash's friend, though.

"But your pardon," the Flash said. "We're going to have to redo yours so it's not posthumous now."

"Already on it," Ramon said, typing away on his phone.

"I'm being pardoned?"

"You and Mick."

Mick hadn't known about that. The surprise on Snart's face was obvious to everyone this time. He dealt with it by changing the subject.

"Ray, why do you have my gun?" Snart yelled.

Palmer started, not expecting to be the center of attention. "Oh, uh, yeah, just hanging onto it. I was thinking I'd incorporate it into my suit, maybe go by Colonel Co – "

"Don't finish that sentence if you don't want to embarrass yourself further. Just give me my gun."

"Right." Palmer handed the cold gun over. "But the Oculus, the failsafe. The Vanishing Point was definitely destroyed, so how did you survive?"

Impulse answered that. "Oh, I put a brick on it."

There was dead silence from the Legends.

"You… what… a brick?" Palmer asked.

"Yeah. The stick thing needed to be held down, so I propped something heavy against it and got us out of there. Easy."

Lisa was, unfortunately, the first to recover from that. "All you geniuses in the room," she said dangerously, "and no one thought to use something heavy?" Her gold gun powered up. "I'm going to kill all of you!"

The park cleared out pretty quickly after that. Though, it did end up with considerably more gold topiary.

After the park, Len declared that what he needed more than anything was a drink. So Bart went with Team Flash, and the Rogues and Legends went to Saints and Sinners. That was four hours ago, and Len had not stopped drinking since he got there.

He was in a corner booth with Lisa passed out next to him. People had been moving in and out of the spot across from him all night, saying how good it was he was back. Friends. Turned out that he had a lot of them. Who would have guessed?

Apparently, it was Rip Hunter's turn. He took a seat on the other side of the table, beer in one hand, and said, "Don't suppose there's any chance of you coming back?"

"Cold day in hell, Rip."

"Yeah, that's about what I thought." He stood back up, having not even fully seated in the first place.

The Rogues were next. Roy Bivolo, Axel Walker, and Shawna Baez squeezed into the bench while Mark Mardon stood at the end of the table.

"It's been boring around here without you, boss," Axel said. "You sticking around this time?"

"Definitely," Snart said.

"Mick too?" Shawna asked.

"Not sure yet." Len glanced over at Mick. He had come over several times to check on Lisa, hovering over Len, really, but they hadn't talked much. Len knew that needed to happen, probably tonight. This morning. Whatever time it was.

"Are you going to be planning something soon? Or just enjoying that pardon?" Mark asked, his eyes careful and guarded.

"I don't know," Len said. "Maybe I will just enjoy the honest life of a free man."

There was a beat, then everyone started to laugh at once. It startled Lisa awake. "What's funny?" she mumbled.

"No. I am going to sleep for a week, then I am going to take a goddamn vacation. I'm thinking Europe. All of us."

"I hear Amsterdam's nice," Axel said.

"To Amsterdam, then," Len raised his bottle to clink against Axel's. Everyone else said "Cheers," including Lisa.

"But after that, yeah. We'll remind Central who owns this city. And we can't let the Flash gets lazy."

After that, Lisa and the Rogues dispersed, but Len grabbed Mark's arm before he left. "Mardon."

Mark looked down at Len.

"You kept everyone in one piece while I was gone?"

Mark nodded. "Lisa too. Though she wasn't happy about it."

Len let go of his arm. "Good. I let you know once I have something for you."

Mark smirked and left.

The Legends came by shortly after to pull Len out of his booth and made him play pool with them. Len was more than a little shaky (drunk) by then and lost badly to Dr. Stein, of all people. Then there was a lot of back slapping, a little crying, and several hugs that Len definitely did not agree to. And then they were gone too.

Except Mick.

Len leaned heavily on the pool table. Mick looked awkwardly off to the side.

"So I'ma goin' with them," Mick said.

Len nodded. He had suspected as much. "Good. They are definitely going to need you."

Mick nodded too. Then Len rolled his eyes. "Alright. One of us is going to have to be emotionally mature, or whatever that nonsense is, and I guess it's going to be me."

Len leaned forward enough to hug Mick. Mick immediately wrapped his arms around him and squeezed tightly. Len felt some of the tension in his head and shoulders ease. They were going to be alright. All of them.

Mick let him go, and Len said, "Go light a fire under them, Mick."

Mick rolled his eyes this time and said, "Keep it cool, Snart."

Len couldn't help but smile, and Mick left too.

Someone was helping him across the bar, one arm around his waist. It was Sara.

"Thought you had left already," Len said.

"Yeah, well, everyone's too drunk to drive."

Len chuckled. It felt good. Sara felt good against him. They stepped outside. The cold, polluted air hit him, and that felt good too.

"Don't drink and time travel, kids."

"Exactly," Sara agreed. She inhaled through her teeth, and Len counted to three, waiting for what was coming. "So, you're gay," she said.

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd hold that against me. And I'd hoped my kissing skills were better than that."

Sara chuckled and waved down a cab.

"I really did want you to come with me, you know. Still do. Plenty of redeeming heroics to be done in Central City. Or nefarious villainy. Whichever."

"You're a pretty good thief, Leonard Snart." She opened the back door of the cab and helped him in. "But you're not that good." Then she kissed him goodbye and closed the cab door.

Len felt so happy to finally collapse face-first into bed. Honestly, he wasn't even sure who's apartment he was at, probably Lisa's, but he was too exhausted to care. He wasn't even drunk anymore. In fact, he could feel the hangover starting.

Then he heard the slight crackle of lightning on the other side of the room.

"If you say 'I told you so'," he murmured into his pillow, "I will shoot you." He raised his cold gun and pointed it at Barry for emphasis.

He opened his eyes. Oh good, it was actually Barry this time. It would have been embarrassing to make the same mistake twice. The kid was dressed in civilian clothes now and leaned against the far wall.

"What, you mean how I knew there was good in you, the whole hero's death thing? No, why would I bring that up?" Smart ass kid was grinning irrepressibly. That tight-warm-alive-happy feeling in Len's chest was back.

"I'm just," Barry continued, "I'm just really glad you're alive. I've lost a lot of people lately, and I'm glad you're not one of them."

Len sat up on the edge of the bed. There were a million things he wanted to say to that, but he was exhausted, hung over, and in desperate need of a shower. He couldn't say them now. Not yet.

Instead, he said, "Well, the class of criminal in Central City is rather lacking without me around. I can see how you'd be desperate for me to be back."

"Hey, I didn't say desperate."

"I tease. But tell you what. If you need a world-class thief this time next year to get you past a man-shark, just come find me. No time travel needed."

"What?"

"Just a hunch."

"Well, okay." Barry chuckled. "And if you need help saving the whole world again, maybe let me know? No heroic deaths this time."

"Sounds fair."

"You can just let yourself into Star Labs. Not like our security's ever meant anything to you, anyway."

Could Len be brave here? Bart's implications seemed made him think he could. "Maybe I'll just drop by Jitters sometime."

Barry grinned even wider, and that feeling in Len's chest suddenly loosened and spread everywhere. He felt it in his toes and along his palms.

"I'll look forward to it."

Once Barry left, Len decided to stay up a little longer. He was expecting one more visitor. Sure enough, Bart vibrated through the wall just a few minutes after Barry left.

"Hey Grandpa."

"Hey kid." Len wasn't going to be able to call Barry kid again after this. "You headed out?"

"You know me. Can't stay in one place too long. Apparently I've got Time Masters and ChronosHeatwave after me."

"Sounds exciting."

"Heck yeah."

"Are you going to visit again?"

"Probably. I can never stay away from Central for too long."

"Bart, can I ask a question?"

"'Course."

"You've seen lots of different timelines."

"Yeah."

"Which one do I become a villain?"

Bart's smile softened a little. "This one," he said.

"And which one do I become a hero?"

"This one," he whispered.

"And which one am I married with three kids?"

"This one."

Len nodded. That heart of his was beating too hard again.

"Which one am I happy?"

"All of them, Grandpa Lenny. You make your own happiness. Always have."

Len stood and pulled his grandson into a hug. The kid was a full head shorter than him and quickly wrapped his arms around him.

"You take care, Bart Allen."

"Always."

Len pushed him out to arm's length. "Be good."

Bart smirked. He looked like Len. "Never."

There was a crack of yellow lightning, and he was gone.

The sun rose, and Len set his watch to the current time.