"Are you okay?"

Leo wasn't always so gruff, in fact his ten year old self had spoken in a tone that bordered on soft as he watched the boy through the open window. The kid couldn't have been much older than himself, but he looked so small with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. When the boy didn't respond, he briefly wondered if he was one of the 'stupid people' his father was always telling him about. "What's your name?" There was still no answer, but the boy seemed to curl in tighter on himself.

"Can I come in?" He only posed the question after he had already started to pop the screen from of its window. "Well, I'm coming in anyway." But by the time he had worked his body through the small opening, the other boy had already sat up in bed, his eyes widened in what seemed like surprise.

"How did you do that?" It was the first time the other child had spoken, his voice soft and timid and just a little wary, but it still made Leo smile at his success.

"Just popped the screen free. Dad taught me how. Don't worry, I can put it back on." Right as he spoke, he turned around and started pulling the screen back into place, even though the best he could do was simply sit it up right so it looked like it was still in place. When he turned to look at the boy again he was closer to the edge of his bed, but watched the door as though worried someone would come through at any moment.

"You really shouldn't be here," he spoke, and this time his voice had an air of resignation to it.

"Why?"

"I don't-" The question made him seem small again, as if he was trying to escape the answer that popped into his head. And then finally, with a faint whisper, "I don't want him to hurt you."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The memory was vivid in Snart's mind, despite it having been so very long ago. Or so it seemed. Rip Hunter's Waverider had allowed him a trip down memory lane, albeit it some less pleasant than others. As he crouched down outside the same window he had come to know all those years ago, he could see the young boy still curled up in his bed, though this time he faced away from the window. It was exactly one day before little Leo would happen upon the same window and begin the friendship that had changed Snart's life long before any Barry Allen had made an appearance. As he watched the little boy toss and turn in his sleep, a sad smile happened upon his lips as he continued the memory.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Two nights later, with his father fast asleep, little Leo had sneaked out and returned to that same window. This time, however, the blinds and drapes were pulled shut, and despite Leo's want to see the boy again, he knew he was probably asleep and retreated back home. The next night he stayed up even later, waited until he could hear his father's snore from across the house, and climbed out his own window, three flights up the fire escape, until he was back at the other boy's window. This time the drapes were open like they were the first time, and the blinds pulled up to the very top.

He knocked on the glass through the screen, but despite seeing the boy's eyes open there was no answer. A crease of worry formed in his forehead as he popped the screen off and reached for the window. Hands braced against the glass, he slowly forced it upward until there was enough space for his fingers to slip under and push it up the rest of the way. In a matter of moments, he had tumbled through the window and onto the floor with a quiet thud that made the other boy sit up straight in bed, fear etched across his face as he stared at the door to his bedroom. Leo tried to speak, but the boy silenced him, eyes still trained on the door in front. Suddenly, light seeped from between the cracks as the hallway light was flicked on. "Go, you need to go. Now," the boy spoke in a hushed, but stern whisper, stepping out of bed and grabbing Leo's jacket to force him out the window.

"But, I-"

"Wait outside and shut up, or he'll find you! Go!" It was a rush to get him outside, to quietly get the window closed as Leo shut the screen. He hadn't even been able to turn and run back toward the bed before the sound of a key being slid into the lock filled his ears and the door was suddenly swinging open.

Leo held his breath, crouched outside with his back to the wall right next to the window. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" It was the voice of an adult, he was well spoken, and his tone was deceptively gentle. "I want you to be very honest with me, Aiden. If you're honest then there won't be a punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Were you trying to escape?"

"No, sir." The intimidating man sucked in a quick breath through his teeth, and let it out in a long exhale, as if trying to calm himself. A moment later the sound of flesh against flesh rang out through the air, and Leo jumped at the cry that left the little boy. Aiden. His name was Aiden.

"Was there someone outside your window?"

Everything in Leo told him to run, that Aiden was going to tell the man he was here, that he needed to get back to his father. He couldn't even be angry at the prospect of the boy telling the truth. There were too many things he had done in the hopes of escaping his own father's wrath. Just as he was about to make a run for it, he heard the boy's soft whisper. "No." His eyes widened as he listened to the familiar sound of a blow landing once more, and a small part of him wanted nothing more than to dive in there and stand in the way. But that just wasn't how father raised him. Each person made their own mistakes, paid their own prices. The boy could have easily avoided punishment by giving Leo away, and that wasn't his problem. So why help him?

That was his father talking, and he knew it, but even so he stayed put. "A bird! It was a bird!" Leo was drawn from his thoughts as the boy spoke once more, his voice tainted with emotion as he clearly tried to keep himself from crying. "A bird landed just outside my window, and I got scared by the shadow and fell out of bed, but then I looked and it was just a little thing, and it was so pretty. I just…wanted to take a closer look. You always have me stuck in here, and all I wanted was to see the bird. I'm sorry, sir. I'm so sorry, I just wanted to see the bird."

The boy outside the window found himself torn between admiring the kid's lying abilities and worried that the man wouldn't believe the story. When the beating didn't continue, he figured it was safe to say the man had bought it, and a moment later the door to the kid's bedroom slammed shut, and the key slid back out of the lock. Even from his spot near the window, he could hear as the man presumably stomped back to his own bed. After a few moments the window slid open almost silently, so silently Leo didn't know that it had until a soft voice was near his ear. "So, are you coming in or what?"

Leo never questioned what had happened between the boy and the other man while he had been outside the window. He knew all too well questions like that shouldn't be asked. So instead, when he climbed back into the window, he did it with a smile, and decided he needed to make the boy's night better. "I'm Leo," he spoke by way of introduction and held out his hand to the boy like father taught him, but the boy flinched a little and just wrapped his arms around his own waist. "You're Aiden, ri-,"

"No!" Suddenly the boy was in his face, fists clenched, and Leo was forced to take a step back. His voice was loud enough he feared another visit from the man in the other room, but then the boy's gaze and expression softened to sorrow, and Leo forgot all about the danger lurking in the next room. "Darren. He just calls me Ai- That. He's called me that ever since he stole me. My name was Darren. Is Darren."

"He…stole you?"

Darren nodded, hanging his head in sorrow. As far as Leo knew only objects could be stolen, he had helped his father steal them a few times, even. But people? Why would someone steal a little kid? Not to be rude, but he doubted Darren was worth a lot of money, and people usually only stole things to sell them for money. It didn't make sense. But, Leo smiled anyway, and reached out to place a hand on Darren's shoulder. He flinched back at first, but Leo kept his hand in place and a moment later the other boy relaxed into the foreign touch as a sad smile crept onto his face. "It's okay," Leo whispered. "My dad hits me, too. And my mom. He hits us a lot." The more he spoke the lower Darren's head sunk as if ashamed of something. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"But…that's…all he does…right?" There was anger and fear and so many things mixed up in the kid's voice, and he reached up to grab Leo's wrist. "Right?" He was shocked for a moment, but he eventually answered with a nod and Darren's grip loosened on his wrist. "Good."

Just like that, it was as if a switch had flipped and a smile was on the boy's face, even if it was a bit sad. His hand slipped up from Leo's wrist and into his hand, using his grip to tug him over to the bed. "I want to show you something, Leo." Darren dug around in his night stand for a few moments before he pulled out a drawing of a person holding a gun that was aimed at another person. Something blue seemed to be coming from the gun, and Darren must have sensed his curiosity. "I call him Mr. Snow. He has a gun that shoots ice and cold. I'm going to be him when I grow up, and then I'm going to hurt all of the bad people with it. Starting with him."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Snart's hand tightened around the handle of his cold gun as the memory faded, his gaze returning to the little boy fast asleep on the other side of the window. A little boy that had dreamt of a warrior of cold and ice that would come and save him from the bad man that stole him away, and there he was, right outside thanks to Rip's time machine. But he had faced the consequences of meddling with the past before, the butterfly effect that ruled every move they made while traveling through time. Was it wrong to want to risk the future to save this boy tonight? Maybe. Maybe not. But there was one thing Snart had always known about himself: He had never been born to play the hero.