A/N: This story just smacked me in the face as I sat down at work and I had to get it down before it slipped out the window. Beginning is short. Let me know what you guys think! Enjoy!

-BG

From the moment Barry woke up to the dull blare of his alarm clock, he knew that today was going to be absolutely dreadful. After fighting a metahuman who could control water the previous night in subzero temperatures, he had barely had the energy to deice himself via a hot shower before passing out in his bed. Now his head was throbbing and his nose felt like it had been stuffed with lead. He stumbled out of bed, throwing on some clothes, and heading down to the kitchen where Joe was getting a pot of coffee going. He attempted to use his speed to get over to the refrigerator to make himself some eggs only to find himself lacking any energy to get there.

Joe looked at his foster son strangely as the normally speedy kitchen bandit trudged wearily across the kitchen. "Everything all right, Barry?"

"Fine." Barry startled himself as his voice came out in a kind of rasp. He coughed, trying to clear his throat. Unfortunately, he only seemed to make things worse as he was suddenly hit by a cough attack which tore at both his throat and lungs.

Joe immediately sat Barry down and got him some water which the speedster drank readily once the coughing subsided. "Sounds like you caught something." Joe put a hand to Barry's forehead. "Hang on a second, Bear."

Barry watched Joe leave only for his foster father to return a minute later with a thermometer. Barry took it from him, sticking it in his mouth. To his relief, the alarm only went off at 98.4 °F.

"No fever. That's a good sign," said Joe, "If it is a cold through, you're better off staying home for the day and sleeping it off rather than pushing yourself too far."

"But Captain Singh-" Barry doubled over in another fit of coughs much to his annoyance.

"I'll tell him you're sick. If he doesn't believe me, he can come right on over here if he has to. I'm pretty sure he'll believe it when he sees you in this state." Joe guided Barry over to the living room couch, which Barry immediately lay down on, his head propped up on the surprisingly comfortable throw pillow. Joe took a blanket from one of the armchairs and covered Barry with it. "And I'll call STAR Labs and let them know you're taking a day or so off to recover. I'm sure everyone will understand. You've done a hell of a good job. You deserve a day off every once and a while."

Barry let out a scarce nod, barely registering Joe leaving him and returning once again, this time with some cough syrup. "Joe, you don't have to…"

"You're still my kid, Bear. You may be all grown up now, but that doesn't mean I still can't take care of you when you're sick." Joe handed Barry the cough syrup and a glass of water, both of which Barry drank begrudgingly. "DO you want me to stay here?"

"No," rasped Barry, "I'll be fine." He buried his face into the throw pillow. "Thanks, Joe."

"Anytime, Barry." Joe set another glass of water down just within Barry's reach as well as Barry's cell phone, a box of tissues, and a small garbage can. Barry barely registered any of this, much less Joe putting another blanket over him before saying good-bye and stepping out the door. Barry was deeply asleep within moments of the door slamming shut.

Snart watched as Detective West stepped into his car and drove away from his house. As far as he could tell, the Detective would not be back for some time and from what he had seen, the man's children had moved out a long time ago. "Mick. Time to go. The sooner we get this set up, the less chance we have of the Detective finding us before we have everything set up."

A snore answered and Snart whirled around to the back of the van where Mick lay snoring up a storm. The cold-hearted criminal sighed. Of course, Mick would be asleep. He'd had the night watch after all and only just been relieved by Snart an hour ago. There was no way he'd be getting up anytime soon much less be in a cooperative mood if he was roused.

Snart quickly scribbled down a note for his pyromaniac of a partner and stuck it next to the man's weapon. He could handle this on his own for now. What problems would he have to face with an empty house?

Snart stepped out of the van, pulling up his parka as he glanced around. Not a single sign of life on the street. None of the neighbors were home, this much he knew. Most left for work around 5:30 in the morning while the detective left around 6 in the morning for his 0700 shift.

Snart made his way carefully up to the front door of the house, quietly picking the lock with practiced ease. For being a cop, the West house had surprisingly lax security. Snart popped the door open finally and it swung inwards with a shrill squeak of the hinges. He stepped into the house, freezing as he swung the door shut behind him. There on the couch, looking up at him with drowsy, but immediately alarmed eyes, was Barry Allen, Detective West's foster child. Just great…

Barry woke slightly at the sound of the doorknob rattling. He slowly roused completely, turning to face the door as it swung open with a loud creak of the hinges, expecting to see Joe enter having forgotten his coffee or something. Nothing could have prepared him for Leonard Snart AKA Captain Cold entering the house and freezing at the sight of Barry as the door shut behind him. As if his crappy day couldn't get any worse…