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It's late, and the phone is ringing.

That's never a good sign.

Len's eyes open as Barry sits up, answering the call. "Yeah, Joe?"

Len huffs out a breath, scowling in the darkness because late night calls from Joe West will never be a good thing. There's probably been a murder and Barry's needed at a crime scene at–

He looks at the clock. 2:18am. Yeah, not a good sign. He sits up as Barry ends the call and slips out of bed. "What is it, kid?"

"Homicide," Barry mumbles, still half asleep.

"Aren't you off today?"

"I'm on call all day," Barry tells him with a heavy sigh. "Usually they'd leave it until morning or something, but, uh... it's pouring outside and the evidence might get washed away if I don't hurry."

"Alright," Len sighs. "I'll drive you."

Driving the motorcycle in the rain is not his favorite thing to do, but it's the only transportation he has right now. He could get himself a car, but those don't slip through the city so easily, and he's always been rather fond of feeling the power of the motorcycle beneath him, wind and power rushing past him as he drives.

"Uh – sorry, Len, but, uh..." Barry starts as Len climbs out of bed. "Look, just – Joe said I need to hurry."

Len's eyes narrow in the darkness, the effect lost on Barry who is not granted with night vision. "You're not running there," he says firmly, because they still don't know what's wrong with the kid, so if he thinks he's racing there on foot, he's mistaken.

He's lasted this long without running; he can do it a little longer.

"I'll be fine," Barry says. "I'm heading straight to the crime scene where Joe's waiting for me, impatiently. He probably thinks I should have already been there by now."

Had this been a normal day, Barry would have been there by now, as he would have raced out as soon as the call ended, telling Len he'd be back later. Back then it would have been fine, too; Len would have rolled over and gone back to sleep. Now, though... it isn't a normal day, and it's not a good idea for Barry to do this right now.

"I'll drive you," Len says again.

"I love you, Len, but I really need to run there or Joe's gonna think something's up."

"So tell him."

It was their plan to tell him eventually, anyway.

Barry trips over his feet on the way toward the door, shoving on his shoes as he moves. "Yeah – uh, not yet. Not until we know what's wrong."

It's the fact that something is wrong that gets to him.

They just don't know what.

"And you're not following me," Barry continues, hand twisting noisily around the doorknob. "It's nasty outside and that motorcycle's not the safest."

Len snorts. "I won't follow if you don't run."

"Len, please?"

And there it is – the please again.

He can't see the Bambi-eyes, at least, but the effect is still strong because Barry sounds tired and helpless. It's quiet for a moment as Len bites down hard on his bottom lip; if he stays quiet he won't give in. He can't give in. Not on this.

"I'll be back soon, and I'll even call you if you want," Barry offers. "I'm sorry – I gotta go. I love you."

Len walks forward to intercept him, to stop him, but he's too slow.

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