Hello!
WARNING: I have not actually seen any of the Legends of Tomorrow, so this will very probably be OOC and AU. I've taken some liberties with locations, timelines and villains from the DC Universe—my apologies. Also, the language is not appropriate for all ages…
PREMISE: Takes place after Mick is returned and is no longer Kronos. Let's pretend Leonard never dies, but the team is mad when he goes behind their backs to steal the scepter. As punishment, they drop him back where he started: In Central City, in the current year. Lisa has taken over the Rogues, and Mick stays with the Legends. What happens to Len when he's left alone? And can Mick and Len ever recover what was lost?
Can be pre-slash, post-slash, or gen, depending on your perspective.
Thank you for reading and I hope you like it!
Going Home
"We need Snart," Mick states, looking at the plans spread before them. He's not a half-bad planner himself and this still just looks like gibberish.
"We do not-" Rip starts. He's wrong, and he knows it, but in the meantime he's going to glare these plans into submission.
"We do," Sara agrees. She's not exactly thrilled with the idea either, aware that she and Len hadn't exactly ended on friendly terms, but Len is the best planner they know.
"What about-" Rip tries again, grasping at straws, unwilling to concede defeat just yet.
"No," Mick reaffirms. There's a handful of people that they would trust enough to work with, and a handful of people who could plan this job, and there's very little overlap between those two groups.
"Look, most of the people in this room are capable of at least basic planning. A few of us even have exceptional planning capabilities, but we need someone who's better than that. There's only one person that I know that fits the bill," Sara expounds.
"How do we even know he'll do it?" Ray pipes in. Frankly, he doesn't mind Snart (though the puns are sometimes a little over-the-top), and if they need Snart to do this, then it's worth it.
"You're kidding right?" Mick asks incredulously.
"He does have a point-" Stein agrees before being interrupted by his counterpart.
"Yeah, I mean we basically dumped him-" Jax states.
"We left him in his time and his city!" Mick exclaims, becoming more and more annoyed with the length of the conversation.
"Would that be enough for you?" Jax counters. Mick gives him a confused look in response, ready to respond that it was significantly more than he got before Stein cuts in.
"Seeing everything that we've seen, I think we can all agree that returning to a life of petty crime may seem, well, petty in comparison," Stein explains.
"He'll do it," Mick states, firmly. He won't necessarily be happy about it, but saving the planet isn't something even Leonard Snart would decline. And if Mick can come back after being tortured by time masters, Len can come back from being bored in Central City.
"Yeah but-" Rip starts, latching onto the thread like a lifeline.
"No, Mick's right. The illustrious Legends begging for Snart's help? His ego will eat that up like chocolate cake. We won't all be able to go, though," Sara continues, already moving onto the next steps of the plan.
Rip offers a dejected sigh.
"Correct. We still have to handle the situation-" Stein begins.
"I'll go," Mick offers, somewhat needlessly. Snart would say yes, but the odds were significantly better of someone actually getting close enough to ask if Mick is the one asking.
"It will take us some time to complete the mission. You will have approximately one week to locate him and convince him," Rip states, looking to Rory to make sure he understands.
"Won't be a problem," Mick answers. Finding him will be easy—they can have the ship locate him. Convincing him may take time, but one week should be plenty….
"Gideon, return to 2017 and locate Mr. Leonard Snart," Rip reluctantly agrees, turning towards the controls on the bridge.
"Returning to 2017. Did you mean Lewis Snart?" Gideon responds.
"No, you idiot. Len. He was on this ship? Ringing any bells?" Mick growls in irritation. Spaceships shouldn't talk. This is a rule that Mick had never known he was a proponent of, but it is definitely the truth.
"My apologies Mr. Rory, but I have no record of a Leonard Snart on this ship or otherwise," Gideon returns, not sounding at all apologetic. Talking spaceships have to have a healthy dislike of known fire-starters, after all.
"You've got to be kidding me," Mick grumbles, shaking his head.
"Let's try a different tactic, shall we?" Stein steps in, hoping to intervene before Rory is forced to resort to physical violence upon the vessel…Again. "Gideon, do you have record of how many passengers were on this ship roughly a year and a half ago. Let's say August," Stein asks.
"Of course. There were 9 individuals onboard," Gideon responds confidently.
"Right, and how many are present now?" Stein proceeds.
"Eight," Gideon returns, slightly less confident now.
"So who was here in August that is not here now?"
"Well this is embarrassing," Gideon mutters. This makes Mick roll his eyes, because if spaceships shouldn't talk, they certainly shouldn't mutter, dammit.
"What is it Gideon?" Ray asks, curiosity taking over.
"I'm afraid I don't know. I can see that there were eight of you, but I have no idea…How could this happen?" Gideon asks, seemingly dumbfounded.
"That bastard," Sara says, shaking her head.
"You think Snart did it?" Ray questions, looking between Sara and Mick.
"I know he did. Wouldn't want to leave a trace. Dammit," Mick responds. He's beginning to pace, now, trying to decide if the plan will still work.
"Not a problem, huh?" Rip asks, both smug and slightly concerned. By this point, even he has conceded that they need Snart's help, but that understanding won't matter if they can't find the bastard.
"Minor setback," Mick says. Central City isn't exactly Gotham—finding one master criminal can't be that hard. Plus, he figures at the very least, he can find Lisa and Len will undoubtedly be close by.
"Well, we dropped him off in Central. You think you can track him from there?" Sara asks.
"I believe if anyone can it would be Mr. Rory," Stein returns, confidently.
Mick grunts in response.
"Gideon, do you have any record of Lisa Snart, or Saints and Sinners?" Mick tries.
"I do not," Gideon confirms what Mick already knew would be the answer.
Mick provides an address instead.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Lisa says, turning from the counter to face Mick Rory. And the two men pulling him towards her.
"Long time no see, Lise" Mick says, smirking.
Lisa prowls towards him in a way that reminds Mick so much of Len that it almost hurts. She stops directly in front of him, looking for all the world like a cat deciding what to do with its prey.
"Let him go, boys," she says, dismissing the two guards that had found him, and he follows her to a booth in the back.
When the ship had dropped him off down the street from the bar, Mick had contemplated all of the ways to approach Lisa. He had determined that the best bet, much as he despised it, was going to involve groveling. So, he had calmly approached the bar (the closest to neutral territory he was likely to get), and allowed the guards to man-handle him in. Lisa would know it was a show, and would hopefully see it for the penance offering that it was.
"So, what trouble have you and Len gotten into? And where is he, anyway? It's not like him to let you out in public unsupervised," she says as they take a seat, smirking back at him.
Shit.
She must see the look on his face, because she immediately jumps to full alert.
"What is it? What's wrong?" she demands.
"It's nothing," he assures. Now he's left with the choice of how much to tell her. On the one hand, any information she may have would be more than he had. On the other, she didn't even know Len was here, on this planet in this time frame and dimension…The odds that she would have any information were quickly dwindling. Plus, there was the possibility that Len hadn't told her he was back for a reason.
A year and a half was a hell of a long time to wait, though. If Len was in trouble, having Lisa's help would be welcome. Plus, having more eyes out would considerably speed up the process.
Shit, he thinks again, having to work at keeping his face blank.
"I thought he would be here. This was our, uh, meeting point," he starts.
"When was he supposed to be here?" she counters.
"Well, that's where things get complicated," he returns. "The job had some….flexible components. It might take him a few days. If you see him around, let him know that I'll be at the warehouse, if that's ok?" Mick asks. The warehouse was a safe-house that only the three of them had used. Mick isn't even entirely sure the thing still exists, let alone if the same rules still apply.
"Flexible components?" Lisa asks in pure disbelief.
"Look, it's complicated. We work with time-travelers, what do you want me to say?" Mick retorts.
Lisa rolls her eyes, "Fine. If I see my dearest brother, I will tell him," she assures.
"And…will there be any company at the warehouse?" Mick asks hesitantly.
"Of course not," Lisa returns irritably, lightly swatting his arm as she talks.
"So, you been good?" Mick can't help but ask, turning to appreciate the changes Lisa's made in the bar, offering a nod of approval at the team she's picked.
When he turns back to face her she's smiling, aware of what he was doing and genuinely pleased that he approves.
"Yeah, I've been real good," she nods. "How about you guys?"
"Oh, you know, saving the world, wreaking havoc across timelines. The usual," Mick shrugs.
She huffs out a laugh. "Look, I'm sorry to cut this short after it's been so long, but we're actually working," she says, smile transitioning to one of apology.
"No problem," Mick says, standing. "I'll keep you in the loop," he says on his way out.
"Thanks, Mick," she says, hugging him. "Keep an eye on him?"
"Someone has to," he responds, smiling as she laughs in agreement.
The smile is wiped away as soon as he's outside, aware that he's managed to fail both Snart siblings.
Mick enters the library (well…first he breaks into the library, but in his defense, if they didn't close so early, he wouldn't have to do this), and heads straight for the computers.
It takes him longer than he's willing to admit to finally find something about Snart. He'd starting looking into robberies reported in Central. When that had wielded no results, he'd expanded the search criteria. He found a job in Starling, another in Gateway that seemed like a job Len had pulled, but they were both a little less than a year and a half ago; not too long after Len had been dropped off.
Then there's nothing. For one year there's nothing anywhere in the country that has any signature indicators of Snart.
The next thing he finds is a job in Metropolis of all places. Then one in Gotham, followed by Star. Mick is in the car (well, first he steals the car, but in his defense, he can't exactly keep one parked on the ship) on the way to Keystone before he even really registers why (which is of course that Gotham, leads to Star, leads to Keystone, leads to Central).
The good thing about Keystone, and really there is only one good thing about Keystone, is that it's small. By the time Mick has made it there he's already wasted one whole day. It takes him another day of asking around, and watching the usual haunts before he finds him.
Mick subconsciously crouches in his car as he watches Len walk out of a warehouse, three other men with him. It doesn't take a genius to deduce that he's planning a job.
It's evening, all of them heading to their respective vehicles, Len hanging back. As the cars pull away, another man stalks out of the warehouse, and Mick growls when the man physically grabs Len, yelling in his face. Len does not like to be touched, and the only reason Mick isn't out of the car yet is because he knows from previous experience that this man is about to be turned into an icicle.
Mick switches from angry to manic glee to sheer confusion in the span of 10 seconds: Not only is the man not dead, but Len is laughing. He pulls out of the man's grip, and Mick hears him say "sure thing boss," as Len turns the corner.
Everyone knows Len is the boss. He's an asshole, and he makes bad puns, and he doesn't like people, but he is a criminal fucking mastermind for God's sake! They've traveled through time and space to use those skills! Nothing that Mick is tracking is adding up to Len.
Then, Leonard Snart, gets into the driver's side of a car, and peels out of the parking lot. This is just too much.
Mick grunts in annoyance, readjusting in his seat. He starts the blue '90s model Honda and follows behind Len, eventually ending up at an old apartment building. Len parks and goes inside.
Mick waits about an hour, partially just out of curiosity of what this Len will do now that he's home. He's running through the various possibilities that could explain the evening up until now (ranging from Len being abducted by aliens, to Len being possessed by some other being, to Len having gone completely insane, to some unknown twist in the timeline leading to a different version of Len altogether), when the man in question walks out of the building. And looks straight at Mick.
All previous thoughts fly out the window when Len smirks at him, because there's only one man that can pull off a smirk like that when caught in the headlights. Len raises an eyebrow and throws a pointed look over his shoulder.
Maybe if Mick had been more focused he would've realized that Snart was carrying a duffel bag. Maybe he would have seen Len slide into the car and pull out of the parking lot. Maybe he would have seen a lot of things, but instead, he sees one thing.
The building goes up in flames faster than would have naturally been plausible, clearly having received aide in the form of accelerant.
Mick has made vast improvements in a lot of things since joining the Waverider crew, but a good building fire is hard to beat.
He doesn't know exactly how long he's there, before he realizes that he has no idea where Len went.
Mick high-tails it back to the only other place he knows Len could be.
He parks at the warehouse, jumping out of the car before he can realize what a terrible plan this is. The last time he stalled, he'd lost his charge; that won't be happening again.
It's a futile endeavor, though.
Mick grinds to a halt moment he steps into the warehouse. The guy who had man-handled Len earlier is lying dead on the floor. That's not overly surprising, but the bodies surrounding him, all trapped in their frozen tombs seem slightly excessive.
A quick glance confirms that Len's not here, either. The smell of gasoline confirms that Mick has a limited amount of time to look around.
He grabs what looks like a schematic from off of the table and high-tails it out of the building, where he gleefully watches yet another building burn to the ground. Mick is not one to turn down bribery, and this is definitely bribery at its finest.
Reviewing the plans, Mick sees that they're breaking into a bank vault, where gems are being stored overnight. Apparently they were being transported to a museum, when the transport (suspiciously) broke down. Another transport is on the way, and in the meantime the gems are in the vault.
Len can get into just about any safe, but getting past all of the security requires a tech guy. Then there's the actual guards at the bank, which would require a muscle guy. Then there's two guys who were supposed to be mechanics for the transport. Based on the timing, they would be breaking in at 11pm, just before a guard switch. It's 10:30, and only one member of the crew is remaining.
Oh you son of a bitch, Mick groans to himself. Then he guns the engine.
He peels into the parking lot just in time to see Len man-handle his way around three guards.
And by man-handle, he means freezes.
And by freezes, he means with Len's bare hands.
No cold gun in sight.
What the hell have you gotten yourself into? Mick thinks to himself as he watches his partner-former partner-take down all the guards and duck around to the door security panel.
Mick is furious that Len seems determined to get himself killed before Mick even gets to talk to him. This is not a one-man job! He's halfway out of the car, more than ready to discuss the importance of teamwork when Len looks to him, jutting his head towards the back before slinking into the bank.
Mick growls in frustration, one hand going to his lighter, both hands balling up into fists. He's played this role before, though, so he pulls up by the back entrance….Behind the Dodge Charger that's already there.
He doesn't have much time to think about it before Len is throwing a duffle bag into the backseat of the Charger and climbing into the driver's seat.
Len shoots him a look before climbing in, and calmly exiting the lot, Mick right behind him.
About 20 minutes later they pull into an abandoned lot. Well, not completely abandoned Mick realizes: There's a motorcycle parked in the very back.
"What the hell were you thinking?!" Mick demands, launching himself from the Honda and into Len's space.
"That was a five man job! And since when do you kill the crew? Before they've even completed the job?!" Mick bellows.
Len just stares back at Mick, slight smirk tugging at his lips.
From this distance, Mick can see Len's eyes clear as day. He hadn't thought Len could be any colder, but the raw, empty look Len returns implies that judgement was incorrect.
"What do you care?" Len asks smoothly.
Mick huffs, stepping back, pacing with one hand sliding over his lighter.
"And what was that? You don't even have your gun!" Mick continues, unwilling to address the emptiness that has seeped into Len's being.
Len chuckles in response, shifting his focus to take in their surroundings, constantly checking the exits and making sure no one unwanted is watching.
"What. Do. You. Want?" Len says, body tense but still, voice quiet in a way that promises retribution as he manages to sidle up against Mick.
"We need your help," Mick answers honestly.
"No," Len responds stepping back. "Anything else?" he asks as Mick still doesn't move.
"Why didn't you tell Lisa you were back?" Mick parries.
If the way Len pauses and takes a quick inhale is anything to go off of, the question hits home.
"You've been back a year and a half," Mick states.
"Huh," Leonard says, cocking his head as if genuinely surprised by that information.
"It's been a weird year," is all Len offers.
"Tell me about it," Mick shrugs.
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, since immediately after the words are out of his mouth, Len has clammed up even more than before.
"See ya around, Mick," Len says, shoving his way around Mick to climb onto the motorcycle.
Mick doesn't get the chance to respond as Leonard revs the engine and roars out of the parking lot.
Shit, Mick reiterates to himself.
Mick, fortunately, doesn't have to wait as long to catch up with Leonard this time.
In fact, he finds Len disconcertingly quickly.
After their last interaction, Mick had climbed into his car, intending to catch up with the younger man. He'd barely made it a block down the road when two other cars pulled directly in front of him. They gunned their engines, speeding to catch up with Len. Mick follows, pulling up just behind the two cars into an apartment building, somewhere between Keystone and Central.
The building is old, brick, and surprisingly lacking in security. Mick walks into the building, following the men to the second story before the sound of yelling draws him to a halt.
Another yell, this one clearly Len's voice, has him barreling into the room in question.
"Who the hell is this?" someone asks as they get in his face.
"No one," comes Len's tight response. Mick looks over to see one man with his hand around Len's throat.
Mick sees red, and punches the man directly in front of him in the face, hard enough to knock the guy out cold.
Everything happens quickly after that.
The man holding Len freezes solid, as do the two behind him. Mick takes a little longer fighting off two more goons and earning himself a punch in the face for the trouble before they realize the futility of their efforts. The two guys run off, leaving Mick, Len, and three ice statues.
"You shouldn't have done that," Len intones.
"Who the hell are these guys?" Mick returns.
Len looks at Mick then and Mick can't help the sharp inhale in response.
The truth is, that Len doesn't really know who they are. He only knows what they want, and he doesn't have anything left to give them. He doesn't have anything left to give anyone, especially not the man standing in his living room.
"Why are you here?" he asks instead, tone weary as he drops to the couch. Freezing things isn't something he likes to do…At least not without his gun. It's exhausting, but in this instance he hadn't had a lot of options.
Now he's stuck sitting on his couch trying to do this little dance with Mick, while also trying to not look like he's fighting to keep his eyes open.
"I told you, we need your help," Mick says, coming to stand in front of the younger man.
"And I told you no," Len responds, shrugging as if this should be the end of the conversation.
Mick just now takes the time to notice that Len is talking…Well, like Len. He hasn't heard the man use his Captain Cold voice once, including when they were surrounded, and it's more unnerving than Mick is willing to admit.
He also takes the time to notice the dark circles under the eyes Len is sporting, and the fact that he seems to have lost more weight than he had to lose to begin with.
"A lot of people will die if you don't," Mick replies, as if that's all that matters. Len supposes that to Mick, that is all that matters. He vaguely remembers feeling that way, but the memory is too distant, too fleeting to have much impact.
"I remember," Len begins, sitting forward, "a guy, a smart guy, who told me once that it was his dream to watch the world burn. I think I'm finally starting to get that," Len shrugs.
"That guy was an idiot," Mick rejoins.
At one point in life Len would've shrugged, smirked, and/or chuckled at all of that. As it stands, it's getting harder and harder to open his eyes after each blink. He's exhausted, and he's hungry, and he doesn't even know what he's running from or to. The look he gives Mick isn't raw, or angry, or any of the other things Mick could've worked with. It's just empty. Devoid of all the things that once made Len, Len.
And that makes Mick angry. It makes him angry because he realizes that all of the things that made Len abandoned Len (just like Len always knew they would). Mick ditched him, and his sister banned him, and his father was never there to begin with. And, well, there's nothing worth stealing if you don't have anyone to share it with. Take away all of those things, and Mick supposes there is nothing left of Len.
Mick nearly punches Len at the realization. They're still working on some of his anger issues.
"What do you want me to do, Mick?" Len sighs, leaning his head back on the couch. "What? You want me to come with you, save the world, and then what? Huh? Come back here?"
"Lisa-"
"Lisa has her own thing going, Mick. And I'm not really a lunch date kind of guy," Len responds.
"So what, you're not happy so everyone else can just go fuck themselves?" Mick asks.
Len takes a moment to process that. That is, of course, not what he wants. The problem is, that Len doesn't know what he wants anymore. He's wanted so many things for so long, but so many of those things have been forcefully ripped away from him that he just can't muster the energy to want things in general anymore.
"You want Lisa to die? Huh?" Mick plows on.
"Of course not," Len growls out, still trying to figure out how to explain. How to explain that he doesn't really want anything. There's nothing left worth wanting.
"You want Lisa and the crew and everyone to die because Leonard Snart is having a bad day?! This is just so fucking typical-" Mick yells, waving his arms in frustration.
And just like that, Leonard Snart is done with this.
"What do you care what I want?!" Snart yells, launching himself from the couch. "You want me to drop everything and come save you because suddenly everything's my fault?! You guys made this mess, and you expect me to clean it up for you! You dumped me here, and now you want me to be part of your crew?!" Snart all but screams. "Saving the world just doesn't cut it anymore, Mick. I'm not even sure it's worth saving," Len ends quietly, turning back to the couch as the fight leaves him just as quickly as it started.
"Then do it for the things that are worth saving," Mick pleads. "Do it for Lisa, or gah, I don't know…" Mick trails off.
"How long until the ship gets here?" Len says, collapsing back onto the couch and pinching the bridge of his nose as the headache he's been staving off all night finally slams into him with all the grace of a freight train.
"We have another week," Mick says, sitting on the recliner to Leonard's left.
Leonard looks around at the safe house. It isn't much; a couch, recliner, TV, books….Len has money-he's stolen enough of it over his lifetime-but he never really knows what to spend it on. Usually he just puts it back into more jobs. He doesn't have many needs, after all, especially now that Lisa is on her own. He nearly sobs at the realization that he could walk out of here today and all that would be left of his life is a series of safe houses scattered across the country.
Hell, he disappeared for a year and no one even knew. Kidnapped in Central City of all places.
He squirms as the memories acquired from that experience make themselves known in the form of aching muscle tissue. He physically shakes the memories off and stands from the couch, leaning on it slightly for stability as he stands too quickly.
"Where are you going?" Mick asks, concern etching its way across his face as Len sways.
Len looks at him then, and Len almost wants to smile at how familiar this feels. Then his back twinges and he remembers that nothing will ever be what it was.
"Good night, Mick," he offers, heading towards the bedroom.
"Good night, Len," Mick responds. What the hell happened? he thinks.
Mick pulls out his phone, sending Lisa a text that he met up with Len and everything is good. He's about to get comfortable on the couch when he realizes that he has an audience in the form of three frozen bad guys. Fantastic, he grumbles to himself. He looks to the bedroom, considering asking Len for help, but decides against it.
Instead, he drags the three statues into the hallway, idly wondering if they will ever de-thaw.
Len wakes slowly the next morning. He's been running on empty, trying to work the job, forgetting to eat, freezing things-at this rate it was a miracle he hadn't passed out mid-fight.
He moves, rearranging his arm from where it was falling asleep, that gentle motion causing enough pain for his breath to hitch and his face pinch in pain. Tylenol, definitely should've taken Tylenol last night, he thinks.
Rolling to the edge of the bed forces a groan out of him, and he wraps the comforter around him as his feet hit the cold floor. He can't hear Mick moving around, and the clock tells him that's because it's only 4am. Four solid hours of sleep—it's nearly a record for him lately.
He heads to the bathroom, taking the moment to examine the scars in the mirror.
Normally, Len would never have taken the time to look at himself, knowing the etches of his childhood would bring up more than he was willing to deal with this early. Lately, though, Len is always looking at the scars. Not the old scars, no, the newer ones. The ones he'd been given in Metropolis.
Some of the scars criss-cross across his back, others spreading across his shoulders in Lichtenberg patterns. A few burn scars to highlight the nearly glowing pale skin underneath. He looks at them, thinking of everything that goes with them. It was the first time in his life he had been truly alone. The first time when no one knew he was gone or would care if he was. He doesn't know what that means yet, other than that it does seem to mean something.
The shower is not wonderful, but the water gets hot enough to scald and that's enough for Len's ice-cold body. Shooting ice from one's hand is nice, but it makes it impossible to be warm.
The water is soothing on his sore muscles even if the shower does little to help him wake up.
He steps out, scrubbing the water off of his face, ducking his eyes from the tired man in the mirror. Scars are one thing, but the eyes are another thing completely.
By the time he leaves the bedroom Mick is in the kitchen making a pot of coffee. Len grumbles his thanks as he goes to grab a cup. Mick brushes past him, startling Leonard and the cup he was holding shatters into frozen pieces.
Len is fairly used to this by now—he always finds the freezing thing harder to control when he's tired—so he just grabs another mug without even missing a beat.
Mick, though, takes in all of this with a degree of wonder.
"That," he finds himself saying. "How did that happen?" Mick asks, pointing from the mugs to Len, who by now is managing to pour coffee into his cup.
"Like I said, Mick, it's been a weird year," Len responds.
"Not good enough," Mick pushes.
"Why's that?" Len responds.
"We're gonna do a mission-the team needs to know what you can do," Mick pragmatically responds. Even as he says it he knows that's not what he meant to say; not what he needs to say.
"I'm not a liability," Len responds, eyes just as cold as the frozen mug.
"That's not what I-" Mick starts. He doesn't get to finish though before what looks like an entire SWAT team has barged into the living room.
"Everybody freeze!" one of the masked intruders shouts.
"You stole my line, kid," Len responds, not even blinking as he stirs milk into his coffee.
"Leonard Snart," a woman says, walking up to the man in question.
"Talia Al Ghul," Len returns.
"You, are quite the difficult man to track," she states, gliding up to Len with a playful pout and a dangerous glint in her eyes. Mick stands up straighter, muscles tensing.
"He didn't have a problem with it," Len shrugs, pointing to Mick.
"Ah yes, the infamous Mick Rory," she says, turning her attention towards him.
"Who the hell are you?" Mick throws back, not at all happy about the situation.
"Mick, we've talked about how to treat guests. Especially guests that are such fans of our work," Leonard chides gently, smiling at Talia.
"Are you aware, Mr. Rory, that there are several law enforcement officers in town looking for you? What do you think they'll do when they find you here, with my three dead look-outs in the hallway?" she questions with a leer.
"What?" he asks. He hasn't even been here long enough to commit a crime!
"You didn't tell him?" Talia asks, looking to Leonard.
"Couldn't use my name," Len shrugs in explanation. "Plus, I was gonna burn everything so I figured it would keep your reputation intact," Len says.
"You've been using me as an alias?" Mick asks, turning to face Len in disbelief.
Len does not look at all sorry.
"Naughty, Len," Talia giggles. Mick knew he didn't like the woman, but now he hates her. Spaceships shouldn't talk and bad guys shouldn't giggle.
"Now that introductions are out of the way, are you going to come quietly?" Talia taunts in a way that indicates she's hoping the answer is no.
Before Snart can respond he's hit in the head with a police baton. Mick flinches at the crack sound, watching as Snart collapses and blood starts gushing from where the baton hit his forehead.
Snart groans, hand going to hold his head. "Talia, Talia, Talia," he says in the same tone one would use to explain something to a small child. He doesn't get to say much else as several of the men have converged on Len, all of them holding batons. Mick hurls himself towards the men as they start hitting Snart.
Mick goes down with a grunt, and the ringing in his ears prevents him from hearing Len's muffled curses.
They share a look, though, and Mick is confused now because that's the same look Len gives when Mick is doing something that will result in him owing Len. Like burning down the wrong building, or hitting someone harder than was strictly necessary.
The confusion is momentary, though, because the next thing he knows, everyone else in the room is covered in a thick layer of frost.
Len stands, then, looking at the crystalized statues with such sadness that Mick is willing to let them have this moment of silence for the people that just tried to kill them.
Len brings his hand up to Talia's face, fingers gently rubbing the ice. He hadn't wanted to freeze them. He'd been avoiding it for the last year, but it was them or Mick and Len would always pick Mick. The one time he had been forced to do otherwise still haunted his nightmares.
"Len," Mick says, the sound of sirens urging him on. "Come on man, we gotta go," he says, gently tugging Len with him.
Len looks around the rest of the building, checking to see if there's anything incriminating that would need to be taken with them. Mick goes to the bedroom, quickly chucking clothes at Len and throwing some supplies in the jewel-stuffed duffle for the both of them.
He takes one longing look at the shower as he changes shirts quickly, glancing back to see Len gingerly tugging on the fresh set of clothes. Len still looks dazed, and Mick isn't sure if the injury is the cause.
Looking at Len, though, Mick's brows pull into a frown as he sees the new scars that litter his friend's torso. There's dozens more than there used to be and he catches himself trying to reach out to touch them.
He ends up catching Len instead when the younger man stumbles slightly.
"You good?" Mick grunts, arms supporting Snart's torso.
"'m good," Len confirms with less confidence than Mick would've preferred. The sirens are getting closer, though, so there's not a lot of time to dwell on it.
"Let's go," Mick says, slinging the duffle over his shoulder and walking out the door.
"Wait," Len says, swinging by the power box on their way out. He pulls two wires and flicks a switch. "Hurry," says, taking one last glance back before bolting out of the room.
They climb into Mick's car, leaving the bike behind.
Mick has to force himself to drive calmly, irritated to find that he feels out of practice doing such a basic job as get-away driver. He has to force himself to focus, then, as he sees the remains of the building go up in smoke. He clenches his hands tighter around the steering wheel.
Len cranks the heat and leans his head against the window, the cool glass soothing his aching head.
Mick drives three exits down the highway, taking the busy exit and pulling into the fourth diner he sees.
Len startles as the car stops, unaware that he had been dozing. He looks to Mick, looking like a worn-out kid waking up to go inside from the car after a long day. Mick plays with his lighter in a blatant attempt to keep from reaching out and touching what isn't his anymore.
"You need to eat," Mick says instead.
"'m fine," Len says.
"Your head's still bleeding, your pupils aren't the same size, and you just froze a room full of people with your bare hands," Mick counters. "We're stopping, we're eating, and you're talking," Mick states firmly, pulling himself out of the car.
Len looks around, still trying to figure out where they are. He stumbles on his way out of the car, but Mick is there to catch him.
"Don't kill me for this," Mick mutters, placing a hand on Len's back to help guide him into the truck stop attached to the diner. Len blinks, squinting his eyes in a desperate attempt to neither puke nor pass out.
"Stay here," Mick says, leaning Len against a DVD wrack.
Mick goes up to the clerk and pays for a shower. He takes the towels they have to offer and pays for a small first-aid kit while he's at it. Fortunately, it's early so their shower number is called before Mick is even back to Len.
Mick tucks in close to Len, supporting him, and guides them both towards the shower. Once inside the surprisingly large shower room, he has Len sit on the bench. Mick turns the shower on as hot as it will go trying to get the room warm enough for Len to stop shivering. Len winces every time a too-strong shiver wracks his frame, prompting Mick to start opening the first aid kit.
It's not a bad kit, he notes, opening the plastic container and pulling out gauze, bandages, and a couple of alcohol wipes. Who knew truckers got all the good stuff?
"Shirt," Mick says simply, turning to glance at Len.
Len sighs his displeasure but complies nonetheless.
Mick takes a moment, checking the bruises to see if they're hiding anything broken. Satisfied that Len is bruised but not broken, he turns back and grabs an alcohol wipe from the counter. Len is quiet, barely holding onto consciousness and Mick is hesitant to interrupt, more than aware that Len clearly needs any sleep he can get.
"So who were they?" Mick asks, swiping the pad over the cut on Leonard's forehead.
Len startles, looking at Mick like he had forgotten the other man was even there.
"I need to know, Len," Mick says, tossing away one wipe and grabbing the next. "Are we good to stall here, or do we need to cross state lines?" Mick asks gently.
"They're, uh," Len starts, uncharacteristically lost for words.
Len clears his throat, visibly pulling himself together. He sighs and leans forward as Mick reaches for the next wipe.
He takes a deep breath, "They're part of some organization. I still don't know much about it," Len starts, and Mick hides his smile at Len's obvious pout.
"They, uh, they kidnapped me not long after," Len stops, too ashamed to finish the sentence (not long after you left me here, left like you promised you never would he thinks). Mick nods and Leonard forces himself back into focus.
"They were trying to make meta-humans. Scientists, drugs, particles—I'm not really sure about the details on that part. They seemed to think it was a multi-step process, though. Inject a drug, simulate particle explosion, initiate physical response," Len states, brows furrowing as he recollects.
Mick just barely manages to contain his growl as he deduces that "initiate physical response" meant "torture to see what happens."
"That why you can freeze people?" Mick asks, forcing the conversation onwards, as much for his own benefit as for Len's.
Len chuckles, "Yeah. They didn't know what my power would be, obviously. The fact that I ended up with freezing powers was just a happy accident."
On the plus side, Mick figures by the time reinforcements arrive, he and Len will be on the Waverider.
"How did you escape?" Mick asks.
"Their plan wasn't working until one day it did. I couldn't really control it and I accidentally froze everything. It worked, though," Len offers. "I escaped but I didn't even know where I was. I had no money or anything. Pulled a job here and there; figured I'd make my way back to Central," Len shrugs, as if that's all that needs to be said.
"And Talia?" Mick can't stop himself from asking.
"Talia….Wasn't as bad as the others," Len states, tone indicating the end of that line of questioning.
"Why'd you take out the crew?" Mick asks, clarifying at Len's confused face, "With the gems?"
Len frowns, "When I was looking into the job I heard someone else was already on it. I didn't exactly have a lot of resources and they already had half the job done. Their safe-cracker was unfortunately arrested," Len says smirking. "So, I stepped in. Got the information and pulled the job. They were just," Len stops, looking for the words.
"Loose ends," Mick finishes for him.
Len nods, wincing as the motion hurts his head.
By now Mick has most of the blood wiped away and is putting a bandage on the cut. He wants to turn down the water that has turned the room into a sauna, but he can still feel the tremors coursing through Len's body.
"And these powers-they got any side-effects?" he asks, pulling away from Len and cleaning up the first aid kit.
Len huffs a laugh that is distinctly lacking in humor. "You want to find out for yourself?" Len asks, holding up his hand in mock threat.
Mick shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. Len is bruised, bleeding, and clearly barely able to remain conscious, but he still manages to turn a simple question into a threat. Abruptly Mick is reminded of the kid with the too-smart mouth from juvie.
"It's…I have to focus on it to have complete control. I know there are different levels-been practicing with that, but haven't exactly mastered it. First month, every time I froze someone I passed out though, so overall I'm making progress," Len says.
Mick shrugs his agreement. At least that explains part of why Len seems so out of it-exhaustion will do that to a guy. Combine using his powers (which is weird for Mick to think about in regards to Len), running from mysterious sociopaths, and a tendency to forget things like eating and sleeping when he works and Mick suddenly has every desire to tuck them into a nice, quiet motel room where nothing bad can get to them.
Mick shakes his head. "I'm gonna take a quick shower," he says, stripping off his shirt.
Len hums a response, eyes already closing as the warmth of the room lulls him to sleep.
Mick helps Len up, guiding them to the restaurant where they grab food to go. Mick drops Leonard off at a motel with the food before driving to an abandoned lot and burning all of the evidence the car could provide. He watches from a safe-ish distance as the car is fully engulfed, flames tickling gently before exploding into passionate embrace.
He goes back to see Len sitting up in bed.
"You sleep, I'll take watch," he says.
"I can't do this," Len says.
"Sure you can. You just lay down and close your eyes," Mick says, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.
"No, I mean I can't go with you," Len clarifies.
"Why?" Mick responds.
"Because I can't come back without you again," Len says.
Mick doesn't even hesitate, "You won't have to."
Len looks at Mick, expression raw, exposed, damaged, hopeful, and terrified all rolled into one—"I don't know if I can stay with you either."
Mick looks away, breath caught in his throat and voice gruffer than he would prefer. "Then stay with the ship, or the team, or the mission, or whatever, but….I'm not leaving you here again," Mick says firmly, begging conjoining with telling.
Len looks away, nodding in response before sliding down the bed and under the covers. He squirms, eventually ending up with his head on Mick's lap, under the pretense of stealing warmth from the older man.
Mick gently runs fingers through the buzzed hair, turning on the TV as Len drifts to sleep.
Len sleeps well into the next day under Mick's protective guard.
The rest of the days go by without incident, the two remaining in the motel room to await the rest of the crew.
By the time the ship lands Len is nearly caught up on his sleep, and is starting to look less like he may pass out at any moment.
"Welcome back," Sara greets them with a wide smile.
"I heard the illustrious Legends could use some help," Len retorts. Mick throws his head back and laughs for the first time since getting Len back, because for the first time it feels like they might be getting Len back.