“Back then, I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. You needed to move on from me– I needed to protect you from me.” for coldflash please :)
Okay, there’s a funny story behind the inspiration for this one, which is I was watching clips from ‘The Muppets’ TV show (You know, the one where Miss Piggy has the show, and Kermit is her EP, and it’s sort of like 30 Rock?) while trying to come up with ideas, and I thought ‘OH MY GOSH, A COLDFLASH AU!’, and so this was born.
The job ofan executive producer was hard. Especially when everyone else’s jobs rest on your shoulders.
First stop,writer’s room.
Barryknocked on the open door, shaking his head when he saw Cisco, Nate, and Raystanding over a sleeping HR, permanent markers in hand.
“Hey!” Hecalled before the ink touched the writer’s face. They all froze in place,guilty expressions on their faces. “Everything ready for rehearsals?”
Theynodded, and Barry rolled his eyes as he checked ‘Writers goofing off, but somehow completed their work’, off hislist. “Carry on.” He announced, turning to walk back out. Sometimes, he justneeded to choose his battles. He passed Caitlin, the stage manager, on his wayto his next stop—the band.
“Thewriters are using HR’s face as an easel again.” He warned.
She let outa deep sigh. “I’ve told them.” She stomped towards the writer’s room, and Barrydidn’t envy a single one of them. He headed for the stage, where Wally, Jesse,Linda, and Jax were warming up.
Wally wasthe first to notice him approaching. “Hey, Bare!”
He wavedwith his pen. “You guys picked a song for tonight? You know Kara Danvers is ourguest tonight, and she wants to perform with you guys.”
Linda andJax were practically buzzing with excitement, but Jesse, keeping it cool, justgrinned. “We’re gonna blow her away. Don’t worry about it.”
He wastrying not to. He couldn’t help but have flashbacks to the Beyoncé incidentlast season. “Fingers crossed.” He said instead. He looked up at the stagelights, frowning when he saw Curtis positioned precariously on top of one,messing with the wires.
“Rene?” Heall but ran for the other stagehand, who was kicked back beside the ladder thatlead to the catwalk. “Why is your boyfriend messing with dangerous equipmentwithout a harness? Or without telling anyone?”
“He toldme.” Rene replied unhelpfully. “Don’t worry, hoss. He knows what he’sdoing…most of the time. He probably won’t fall.”
That wasalmost no comfort. He was about to chew Rene and Curtis out, drag the latterdown by his ear if he had to, but a call over his headset stopped him.
“Barry, you told me to let you know whenSnart got here.” Iris said through their talkies.
Barryturned away from Rene. “And?”
“Well, he’s here. But he’s hungover as hell.He tried to hide it, but he must have had a lot last night. I think you shouldcome back here.”
The last thing he wanted was tosee Len when he was already stressed about the rest of the show. This was theirseason premiere—after all the bad publicity their so-called ‘star’ had gottenrecently, they needed a good opening if the show was going to survive.
He sighed.“Iris, I’ll be there in a minute. Just…make sure he makes it to his dressingroom and that he’s drinking lots of water. The last thing we need is for him tokeel over from dehydration.”
“Got it. I’ll get Mick to help.”
Barry spared one more glanceback at Rene. “Curtis better be off that light by the time I get in here, orI’m siccing Caitlin and Laurel onyou.”
Honestly,they were the best threat he had, between Caitlin’s mothering and Laurel’slegal talk, no one wanted to crossthem. He broke out into a run for the stage door. Sara—the on-air announcer—waswaiting for him, holding out a red Gatorade.
“I heardLeonard was out late again. Can he do rehearsals, or do I need to come up withan explanation for Kara Danvers?”
The factthat he and Sara had a system for this sort of thing was sad. He accepted the Gatorade.“Just…hold off for a moment. Let me talk to him and I’ll get back to you.”
She nodded,following him most of the way to Len’s dressing room. It was a bright bluedoor, far from anyone else’s dressing rooms or offices, with a white snowflakeon it instead of a star. When they’d started the show, it was a running gagbetween him and Len. Now, it fit so horribly well with their lives.
He raisedhis hand to knock, but it opened before his fingers touched the wood. Mick,Len’s assistant, poked his head out, relief softening his features when he sawit was Barry.
“Good. Heneeds you.” He only opened it wide enough for Barry to slip inside.
“How bad isit?” Barry whispered, staring at the curtain that separated the front of theroom from the ‘resting area’—the one with Len’s vanity and couch. He could seeLen laid out on the couch through the thin fabric, still and quiet.
“On a scalefrom one to ‘Lewis showing his ugly face again’, I’d give it a ‘The dayValentina Vostok purposely leaked their sex tape’.”
Barrycringed. That’d been a really bad day. “What happened?”
Mick’seyebrows raised, like Barry was the biggest moron he’d ever seen. “Don’t youknow what last night was?”
He furrowedhis brow. It was a Sunday. Sunday, March 16th—
“Damn.”Barry groaned, palming his face. “Was that really yesterday? Alright, I’ll…I’lltake care of this. Just, go and tell Sara to prepare for the worst for now.”
Mick dartedfrom the room, eager to be far away from the drama that was about to ensure.Gathering his nerve, Barry stepped through the curtain.
Len wasstill wearing his sunglasses, his hand resting on his forehead to massage awaythe pain, and a water bottle hanging from his other hand.
Barry tooka seat at the foot of the couch. Len didn’t acknowledge his presence. He shookhis head. Len had been doing so good—he’d cleaned up his act, stopped drinking,stopped drugs, stayed out of the papers. Then, over the summer, everythingsuddenly changed.
Suddenly,Leonard Snart was all over the tabloids—at clubs, at after-parties, gettingdrunk and throwing up in storm drains. Luckily, he hadn’t gone back to the drugs,as far as Barry knew.
“Stopstaring.” Len mumbled, still not moving. “You’re thinking too loud.”
Barry rolledhis eyes. “I’d ask how your feeling, but if it’s anything like how you look, Ican assume the answer is ‘shitty’.”
Len barkedout a laugh, followed by a groan. “It hurts to do anything.” He moaned. “Painkillers?”
Barry shookhis head. “Sorry. No drugs. You’re a recovering addict remember.”
“I’m hardlygoing to go back to shooting up because I took a Tylenol.” He grumbled, sittingup so his back was against the arm of the couch.
“Honestly,I don’t know where your head’s at right now.” Barry shot back. “So, what you’llbe getting is a Gatorade and zero pity from anyone here over your hangover.”
Len rolledhis eyes, but accepted the bottle Barry offered him.
“Now, arewe going to talk about what the hell you’ve been doing these past months, orare you going to yell at me again and try to have me kicked off the lot again?”
A smiletugged at the corner of Len’s lips, but only for a second. “What I get up toisn’t your problem anymore, Allen. My life outside of this studio is my life.”
Oh, so that’show it was going to be. “Actually,” Barry scoffed, “it is my business when it starts carrying over into your work, or whenthe bad publicity you’ve been stirring up starts affecting the ratings of my show.”
“Funny, Ithought it was my show. You know,since my name is in the title: Late Nightwith Leonard Snart.”
Barry’snostrils flared. This shit—this exactshit and attitude—is why theyweren’t together anymore. Len’s head getting too big, becoming an insatiablediva, mistreating a lot of the crewmembers on the show. Finally, on March 16th,Barry had enough. They’d been having dinner with some big wigs from the studio,and Len had started bad-mouthing their friends from the show. At that point,Barry’d had enough.
“Thosepeople work their asses off for you, Len!” He’d shouted after storming out ofthe restaurant. Len, who’d chased him out, snorted.
“Come on,Barry. You complain about them, too. They goof off, almost never get their workdone in time for the show, always make mistakes you have to clean up—”
“It doesn’tmatter, Len! What matters is that those people in there—the ones you wererunning your mouth to—can get them all fired.Do you understand that? All of those people who have dedicated their lives tomaking our show great, who sacrifice their social lives by staying behind untilwell past midnight to make sure everything is perfect, who are there right now planning tomorrow night’sshow, those are the people you justsold out in there. And now I’m going to have to grovel to some studio head sothat they don’t all lose their jobs!”
The Len heknew and loved would’ve, upon realizing what he’d done, run back inside andtried to fix things, if not for their friends, then for Barry. But, instead, helaughed in Barry’s face. “If they cared about their jobs that much, they’dactually work to keep them. Maybe what my show needs is some fresh faces andnew ideas.” He took Barry by the hand. “We’ll talk about it later though. Comeon, Scarlet, let’s finish dinner.”
But Barrycouldn’t. He yanked his hand from his boyfriend’s grasp and stepped away. “No.I can’t…I can’t do this anymore, Len.”
Len raisedan eyebrow. “You’re breaking up with me? Over this?”
He hadn’twanted to. But he’d known that he needed to. “Yes. Because the man I loveshould be worried that what he says and does could put hard-working people outof their jobs. Should care that about someone other than himself.”
He’d walkedaway right after that, leaving Len standing alone outside the restaurant. Whenthey’d come in the next day for work, they interacted only when they had to, andmostly spoke through Mick.
It hadn’thelped things when TMZ got their hands on a cellphone video of the break up anddecided to run it. That had sparked another fight between them, right in themiddle of the soundstage in front of most of their crew. They avoided eachother for nearly two weeks after that.
One yearlater, they were finally getting to a place where he thought they could worktogether without any…underlining feelings.
Of course,Len was still a handful on a good day and a full-blown bastard on a medium day.He didn’t like to even think about bad days.
Barry jumpedto his feet. “For now. Did you know that I had a meeting with Eobard Thawne? Youknow, the man who holds all of our jobs in the palm of his hand? He told methat, if you don’t get your act together, this whole show is getting cut from thelineup. I had to beg him to give youanother shot. Do you know how degrading that is—begging a man like Thawne? I owe him a favor now!”
He could see the tension in Len’sshoulders, but the diva huffed. “It can’t be that bad.”
“What thehell is wrong with you?” Barry demanded. “For months, you’ve been stompingaround like a spoiled child, doing whatever the hell you want without thinkingabout the people whose lives you affect. Ever since…”
He paused,thinking back to the first day he’d noticed something wrong with Len. It wasthe night after Oliver Queen came on the show, the night he’d asked Barry out.
“Is thatwhat all of this is about?” He asked. “Is this about you being upset thatsomeone asked me out? Or just that he asked me over you? Is that why you’vebeen making an ass of yourself for months?”
Len snortedand turned his head away. “Maybe not everything I do is about you, Barry? Haveyou ever thought of that?”
Barry hadhad enough. “Fine. Whatever. Just…be at rehearsal in ten minutes, or I’msending Sara in here to drag you out.”
His headsnapped back around. “You wouldn’t.”
Barryhuffed as he strode back to the door. “Don’t push me, Len.”
Rehearsalwent better than expected. The song the band picked was fun and Kara seemed toenjoy singing it with them. They ran through the schedule for the show withouta hitch. The material from the writers was genuinely funny and witty. Even Lendid amazing, given his state.
By the end,Barry felt a weight lift off his shoulders, like maybe Thawne would let themkeep their show longer than the six months he’d promised. His phone buzzed.
He stepped backstage to take it.
“Hey, Barry. How’s rehearsal going?”
Barry sighed. “Stressful, but sofar, pretty good. The worse part so far has been Len. I had to fight him to getserious about the show.”
“Well, you know from experience what aprimadonna he can be.”
“That’s harsh, Ollie.” Hedefended, even though Oliver was completely right. “He’s going throughsomething right now. I just wish he’d tell me what was going on.”
There was adeep sigh on the other end of the line. “Bare,you have a big heart. It’s one of those wonderful, loveable things I adoreabout you. But it’s not your job to worry about him outside of the studioanymore. If he wants to crash and burn, you shouldn’t make yourself sick aboutit. He has to want to save himself.”
“I know.” Barry agreed. “I just…whenyou’ve cared about someone for years, it doesn’t just go away, y’know? I’malways going to want to help him.”
“I know, Barry. I know.” Oliver didn’tsound jealous, just concerned. “Do youwant to go out for dinner tonight? Get your mind off of things?”
Barry pursed his lips, thinkinghard. “Not tonight. Maybe this weekend? There’s so much going on here rightnow. I need to be here.”
“I understand. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He felt eyes on his back as hehung up, and he turned to see Len hovering behind him. “I’m sorry.”
Barry’seyes widened. Had something happened? Was Len replaced by a clone? Was it AprilFool’s? Len never apologized.
“I’ve been…unfairto you.” He continued. “I was upset that you moved on so quickly from ourrelationship. I guess I thought that…that maybe this wasn’t permanent. That itwas just a fight, and we’d be getting back together. Then, you and Queenstarted dating, and I realized…I realized it was really over. You were donewith me. I tried to go out and pretend that I was moving on with my life, too.And maybe I was purposely trying to hurt you, I don’t know. But you don’tdeserve any of the hateful things I’ve said or done. And no one in this studiodeserves to get fired because I can’t move on.
“I knowthat, during that big fight we had, I told you that you were just a fad, and thatwhat we had was a passing fancy, but I didn’t mean it, Scarlet. Back then…I wasangry and hated myself for making you leave. I lied when I told you I didn’tlove you, because you needed to move on from me– I needed to protect you fromme.”
He hung hishead. “I’m a train wreck. I always have been, since my father forced me intothis life. Between the drugs, and the tabloid stories, and the constanthook-ups…Barry, you were the best thing I’ve ever had. I thought that maybe youcould help me be better, but instead I just started dragging you down, too. Youdeserve better than me, everyone here does. But if I can help you all keep yourjobs, I swear, I’ll try.”
It was themost honest he’d heard Len be in so long, and it was the first time he’d openlydiscussed their break-up since it happened. If he’d said those things a fewmonths before, Barry would’ve rushed into his arms, forgiven him completely,and kissed the sorrow away.
But thingshad changed. Maybe there was no going back for them—at least, for the timebeing. But damn, did he still love him. He just couldn’t stop.
Len headedback for the soundstage without another word, leaving a shocked-silent Barrybehind. “Barry!” Caitlin’s voice camethrough his headset, jarring him from his paralysis.
“Did you tell Curtis to mess with the satelliteon the roof? Because he and Rene are heading up that way with tin foil, ducttape, a screwdriver, and a ladder.”
Barry cursed. He’d have to dealwith Len and all of their troubles later. For now, he had a show to run.
