‘Life ain’t fair’ was a concept that had been drilled into Leonard very early on. The kind of lesson that was gradually hammered in over time, and solidified the older he became. There were reminders in everything. The first time his father was carted off to prison. The first time his mom forgot to take him to school over bloody mary’s in the morning. The first time Lewis Snart took a shot at her, then him, then Lisa. When he had to cut class to take care of his baby sister. Take the fall and get sent to juvie because Lewis Snart was a world class idiot. Time, after time after time those words were hammered into his head and he knew the experience wasn’t exclusive to him. He wasn’t the only one who’d had a rough start. Barry had lost his mother and father at eleven. He’d been put in a position where being a hero seemed more important than being a person, with a life. And that wasn’t fair either. Because apparently Life didn’t really care if you were a hero or a criminal. It just happened.
But for Barry, at least, he wished it would have made an exception. He deserved better than to die so young for trying to do the right thing because Harrison Wells thought he was smart enough to play god.
The anger was still there, of course. Boiling under the surface because he wanted to lash out for Barry’s sake. Take a stab back at the universe but knowing it would only hurt Barry that much more made him reign himself in. It was kind of ironic, really. The way he’d gone from wanting to eliminate The Flash to working to do what he could to make sure he wasn’t hurt.
There were plenty of things he could say. Maybe Wells was wrong. Maybe he wasn’t really dead, but Len knew the pitfalls of hope better than most and he wasn’t going to put Barry through that. He could tell him that he’d find a way to fix it but they’d both know that was a promise he’d never know how to keep as soon as their strange slice of reality decided he’d been around too long again. And that was the thing. Neither of them could know how much longer they’d stay here. Barry could be sent back to die never or tomorrow. Telling him he wished it could be him instead would only make him feel worse. He didn’t have to imagine the kind of passionate reaction Barry would have to that. The less the kid had to dwell on that the better.
When he got back to the apartment it wasn’t hard to find Barry standing by the window. He honestly hated seeing the normally vibrant young man so stock still and tense. Made him nostalgic for the days back in Central when both of them had a lot less baggage and the biggest challenge was trading barbs. Barry Allen’s smile could light up a room and Len had realized that even before he knew who he was. And now that smile seemed to have fewer and fewer reasons to be there.
It was in that quiet space before he approached him that Len knew he really was in love with the damn kid. Len didn’t love easy. He had Lisa and in a very complicated and co-dependent way he had Mick. But that was it. The beginning and the end of his capacity to care was supposed to stop there because he’d be the first to admit loving himself certainly wasn’t part of that equation. Self preservation and self worth were two very different things but he did. He loved Barry fucking Allen. With his thousand watt smile and his unabashed love for science and nerdy things. All of it. And apparently, he wouldn’t get to keep that either.
Life ain’t fair, Leo.
Somewhere he was pretty sure Lewis was still mocking him from the grave. The son of a bitch.
So Len did the only thing he felt he could in that moment and came up behind Barry and wrapped his hands around his middle in a hug. It said a lot about how far he’d come that he could keep his normally less tactile tendencies at bay when they were together.
“What do you need, Barry?” he said after a moment. Honestly it was the only thing that had to matter right then.