He is panting, draws in deep lungfuls of air and he finds himself shaking. He is distantly aware of that his knuckles hurt, and there's an echo of that feeling inside his chest as well. So many things are going through his mind, but he can't form a coherent thought. He's staring at a piece of the wall, but is acutely aware of both the Snarts on the edges of his vision: Lisa is still lying unmoving where he left her, and Len … doesn't move, either, but he's at least still conscious. He glances over at him.

Len is a mess. He is lying on his back; bruised and bloody and still handcuffed to the railing. His jacket is halfway down one of his arms, his shirt is twisted around his torso and one leg is bent under him. It looks uncomfortable, but he doesn't move. His breathing is shallow and he is keeping an eye (already starting to swell shut) on Mick. Chronos. Whoever he is, or was, dammit.

A part of him sees his former partner on the floor and wants to finish the job. Another part of him wants to kill whoever did this (which, incidentally, is him; proven by his bloody knuckles). Yet another part, a familiar but long-forgotten tiny fragment, just wants to light something on fire.

Mick/Chronos growls, because damn it all to hell what the fuck even is this shit, and Len flinches.

It makes something in him clench uncomfortably, and he looks away. He makes the mistake of turning towards Lisa, and the same conflicting emotions assaults him from looking at her: he wants to hurt her, but he doesn't really want to hurt her; he wants her to be safe. All these contradictory thoughts are pushed to the side by a strong and sudden need to just get away. Not flee, per se, just … get out of there. The urge is so strong that he stands up immediately (Len doesn't flinch, but seem to be holding his breath).

There's a thousand other things he should be doing, but it will have to wait. He needs a moment.

Actually, there's one thing that he can do right now.

He moves to pick up Lisa, and that gets the attention of Len on the floor; he tries to sit up, but makes a face and falls back with a groan. Instead of sitting up he angles his body to the side and drags himself up with the help of the railing to lean against the wall, in time to turn to Mick/Chronos and croak:

"Please, Mick, no … please …"

He can't deal with the look in Len's eyes right now, so he throws Lisa over his shoulder and passes Len without a word – ignores him and carries Lisa down the corridor. The other man's voice gets more and more frantic, but he continues walking without turning around, because one thing at the time dammit. Just before he rounds the corner, though, Len says, pleadingly:

"Don't hurt her. Chronos, please …"

And that name, from that man … nothing has ever felt so wrong. He manages to walk around the corner before he stumbles, and has to reach out and steady himself against the wall with the hand that is not holding Lisa. There is a buzzing in his ears (that he is almost grateful for, because it drowns out Len's distressed voice) and memories flashing in front of his eyes, too fast for him to make sense of them, and it's all a jumbled mess but the one thing he is suddenly sure of –

– is that his name is not Chronos.

He takes a deep breath, straightens up, drags a hand over his face and continues walking. Before he exits the ship, he puts on his armor. The helmet, too. He picks up Lisa again, in both his arms so he can see her face, and sends the feed from his helmet to the screens on the bridge. Seeing her should calm Len down.

He is not entirely sure why calming Len down feels so important, but it feels like the right thing to do so he does it, and refuses to think of why.

Then he exits the ship, and carries Lisa into the night.

It is late at night, in those hours just before it can be called morning, and there are hardly any people out. He is relieved (and how strange it is to feel relief again), because the armor is not exactly discreet, and carrying around an unconscious woman in his arms … well. A lot could go wrong with this mission, and there is a considerable risk to the timeline.

He finds that he doesn't give a shit. He keeps to the shadows, though, chooses the roads and alleys with the least lights.

Still, a few people see him; two men making out under a streetlamp (they break apart and stare, but don't do anything), a man standing at a street corner (he looks up from his phone and narrows his eyes, but slinks into an alleyway without a single word before Mick even gets close enough to see his face) and an old man walking a dog (that man mumbles a sleepy "'evening" at Mick as he passes, and doesn't even look up). But none of them warrants a death.

He finds himself back at the bar he left a few hours ago, and the side street where Lisa's motorcycle is still parked. Good. She'd be pissed if someone had stolen it.

He gently puts her down on the ground next to her bike, and then stands up and backs away a few steps. She is as unmoving as she's been since he knocked her out, and he furrows his brows behind his helmet. He knows (remembers?) this part of town; leaving a woman knocked out cold on the ground here is not exactly safe, and … he wants her safe.

So he walks back to her, bends down and injects her with something that should counteract the other injection; something that should wake her up. He then backs away to the nearest street corner and watches her from there. It is a few minutes (during which he pointedly refuses to think of anything at all), before she stirs. A twitch, a low moan, then her hand reach up to cover her eyes. She exhales loudly. Then she touches the back of her head, and curse. Another fifteen seconds later, she's bracing herself to stand up, and Mick decides that it is time to leave. She's awake, she's moving. She is safe.

Walking away, he removes his helmet and breathes in deeply. The night smells a little like garbage and concrete and dust, but it has a cold and crisp quality to it that makes him enjoy it. It feels … familiar. Which, he supposes, it is. He has lived in this city for many years, after all. Although it was a long time ago … or has it really been that long?

The time masters, the Vanishing Point, the ship, the hunt … Chronos. It was a life he lived for an eternity, or at least that's what it had felt like. Now? Every minute he's here, breathing in the air of Central City, it feels more like a fever dream. An eternity then, an undefinable and fading cloud of sensations now.

The knowledge is still there, of everything he's been through and everything he's done. Before, as Chronos, he knew of his previous life as Mick in Central City on Earth but didn't remember it. Now, he suddenly finds that it's starting to feel like the other way around.

Time doesn't exist at the Vanishing Point, not the way it does on Earth, he knows this. And that chair they put him in warps one's mind so much that any sense of time loses its meaning. An eternity is in a second; a moment in a year. That's why it's so easy to travel through time after that; time is no longer a constant. And he's spent so long going back and to through time since then that he has forgotten how it is supposed to flow. Here, just before dawn in a quiet Central City, time passes like it should, and he can feel his body adjusting to it. Re-adjusting, really. Because this is the time he was born in, this is the time he was supposed to exist in. This is how time should feel.

His mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't make sense of what is or has been real, so he concentrates on breathing. And each breath helps. So does each familiar road and each building he knows (remembers) having passed many times before.

Everything is fucked up, and he knows that he has to take care of it soon, but for now, he walks slowly through a city he's known for most of his life, and he breathes in the chilly night air, remembering.

He takes the long way back to the ship.

The sun has risen above the horizon when he finally returns, and when he enters the ship, he finds himself lingering. He removes his armor, because it feels a little like a joke and a lot like a prison, and instead he dons the clothes he wore when he went to apprehend Lisa. He then checks the whereabouts of the Waverider; probably still in Nanda Parbat, which was to be expected. He does a quick system check, just for the hell of it, and then takes another deep breath and walks onto the bridge.

Len is right where he left him, sitting with his back to the wall and his hands around the railing, and he looks just like Mick expected him to look.

Because Mick knows a lot about Leonard Snart, so he knew that if given enough time after seeing that his sister was safe, he would pull himself together and hide behind the cold mask that fitted his alias so well. (That was partly why Mick took so long getting back to the ship, or so he tells himself. To give Len a chance to get a grip.) And the mask is on, just as expected.

But. Mick has also known Leonard Snart for a long time, so he recognizes what's behind the mask. He sees the redness of his eyes, the tightness of his shoulders, the way every movement is measured. Most people would attribute it to pain, but he knows that Len can take a beating and pretend like nothing's wrong: this tenseness isn't only caused by physical pain. This is apprehension, someone not knowing what to expect but preparing for the worst.

His head is turned so he can watch Mick's feet with the one eye that isn't swollen shut, but he doesn't move and he doesn't speak. He's waiting.

Mick bites the bullet.

"You saw. Lisa is unhurt."

Len curls into himself, just a fraction, at the sound of his voice. He's still not looking up, but he turns his head slightly towards Mick and says:

"I saw her waking up in that alley. I saw you move away. Then the feed was cut off."

He doesn't say You could have done anything to her while the feed was off and he doesn't say I don't trust you, but he doesn't have to. Mick hears it anyway. He expected it, though, and prepared for it. He produces a phone and holds it out to Len, who watches him with suspicion. Mick shakes it a little.

"Take it. Call her."

Len's good eye narrows, but he slowly reaches out for the phone. He is stopped by the cuffs before he can reach it, and Mick has to take a step closer (and see Len moving back an inch when he moves) to hand it to him. He takes a quick step back and adds, gruffly:

"Don't say anything."

Len may or may not have taken that as a threat, but it's difficult to gauge his reactions under the blood and the swelling and the bruises. He takes the phone nonetheless, and dials a number from memory. He watches Mick the whole time, as if he's waiting for the punchline of a cruel joke.

None of them makes a sound, which is probably why even Mick can hear the female voice who picks up after a few rings; "Who's this?"

Len's entire posture changes in a blink. His whole body shudders, and he squeezes his eyes shut and puts a hand over his mouth. The voice repeats, after a few seconds of silence: "Hello? Who is this?" Len doesn't move, but he cradles the phone like it's a lifeline. A second later, the person on the other end hangs up with a muttered "Asshole", and Len swallows, removes his hand from his mouth and takes a shaky breath. He looks down at the phone (which has a little blood on it now) and holds it out to Mick without looking up. Mick takes it, and says:

"She's safe."

Len nods, and seems to be steeling himself for something. With a wince, he's grabbing the railing and pulling himself up. (Mick wants to help, but there's still a part of him that bristles at this and wants to beat him down again, so he doesn't dare move. He's pretty sure it wouldn't be appreciated, anyway.) When Len is standing up, hunched in on himself and all his weight on his uninjured foot, he turns to Mick and looks him straight in the eye, and says, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice:

"And what can I do to keep it that way?"

And that is like a punch to the gut. Mick knew – hell, Chronos knew – that Len would do anything to protect his sister, but it's just so wrong to see him like this; beaten and weak and still doing whatever he can to keep her safe, no matter what it might mean for himself. Especially since Mick knows, he fucking knows, that this is what most of Len's life has been like. And it makes Mick so angry (but anger is still associated mostly with abandonment and wanting to harm Len, so the anger quickly turns into fear that he'll actually do something to hurt him even more, and he doesn't deal with fear very well), so he growls in frustration and punches the wall next to Len's head before he can stop himself.

Len flinches, but squares his shoulders and says:

"Only death would have kept me from coming back for you, Mick. So kill me."

The words rush out of him, as if they've been rehearsed, and when he's said them he straightens up somewhat and … waits.

And it dawns on Mick, suddenly, that there could have been a reason why Len didn't come back for him. As Chronos, he wanted to kill Len, and would have, too, if … if things hadn't changed like they did. Hell, a part of him is still Chronos so they're not fully in the clear yet, but … He won't kill him. Probably. And if he doesn't kill Len, and Len still didn't come back for him (and he didn't) … this is why. Mick threatened Lisa, and that's just a line that one does not cross. Len wouldn't have come back for him, not after this, because this happened before Len got the chance to go back and undo it. Mick (as Chronos) going after him and his sister? That's a worse betrayal of trust than anything that Len could ever do to him. No wonder Len never came back. Mick ruined it before he had a chance.

Still, Len is standing stock still in front of him, tense but determined, and is awaiting his own death at the hands of his oldest friend. And why? To protect his sister? To somehow save the crew of the Waverider? Out of some weird sense of obligation because he felt he'd deserted Mick? None of those reasons are good enough to give up on his own life. Len is such an –

"Idiot."

Whatever Len expected, it probably wasn't that, because he does something with his eyebrows and tilts his head slightly to the side.

"What."

Mick drags a hand over his face.

"You're a self-sacrificing idiot."

He backs up against the wall on the other side of the corridor and watches Len, whose voice trembles when he cautiously says:

"… Mi-Mick?"

And he's suddenly glad that he has his back to the wall, because his legs are barely supporting him anymore. The broken quality of Len's voice makes everything around him look blurry, and he blinks to bring the world back into focus. His voice is not any steadier when he replies:

"Yeah, buddy."

Len puts weight on his injured foot and wobbles, has to steady himself and ends up mirroring Mick with his back to the wall. They look at each other, neither of them speaking for … seconds, minutes, hours – hell, it's not like Mick is the best at measuring time at the moment.

Len's watching Mick as if he's expecting him to explode at any moment, but he is the first to speak (for which Mick is more grateful than he cares to admit):

"You're … you, again?"

Mick feels like laughing (because he's not sure what that even means anymore, for him to be "him" again), but he already knows how hollow it'd sound if he did, so he just clears his throat and makes a face.

"More or less."

Len nods as if that makes sense (it doesn't, and they both know it).

There are so many things that they should probably talk about, but neither of them has ever been much for talking and this? This is just … too much. Where would they even begin? No, to hell with that. There are other things that needs to be taken care of first. Like:

"You okay?"

Len glares at him from his good eye like Mick's crazy, which –

"Okay. Point."

Still. "We should get you looked at."

He pushes off the wall and approaches Len slowly, hesitantly. When Len doesn't lean away from him, he reaches out and unlocks the cuffs. They fell to the floor at their feet with a clanking sound, and he drops his hands to his sides and prepares for whatever punch Len is gonna throw (and steels himself for the inevitable urge to hit back, retaliate), but Len doesn't do anything.

Eventually, Mick nods his head towards the other end of the corridor.

"Come on", he says and starts walking.

He doesn't know if turning his back on Len means I trust you or You're too weak to be a threat to me, and he doesn't know how Len interprets it, but he fully expects Len to eventually follow him. Which is why it's a surprise when he rounds the corner alone. He backtracks, a step or two, and looks back. Swears silently to himself, because Len is gripping the railing and limping forward, trying not to walk on the foot that Chronos stomped on before. Of course.

It's slow going, but he eventually gets to the corner, too. Mick is pretty sure that any attempt he makes at helping will be turned down, but he takes it slow and turns around every once in a while and makes sure that Len is following.

Len is too proud and stubborn for his own good (if he's not begging for his sister's life, his mind unhelpfully adds), and it frustrates him and stirs the flame of anger in him again.

He fears that flame now, for the first time, because it's dangerous. All his anger has been directed at Len for so long and he's not sure he can control it. He is suddenly reminded of the first stretch of time in the Time Masters' hands; he had been so angry. At Len, at first, but then at the Time Masters and the whole situation. And they put him in that chair and took all the anger and all the hate inside of him and they shaped it. Made him into a weapon and pointed him in Len's general direction; certain that he would do anything to get to him. And he almost did.

Might do it, still. There's a piece of him that is what the Time Masters made him into; that wants to make sure this man, already battered and bruised, never gets up again.

But a look at Len's face (the fact that it's still so familiar when he's this beaten is not something he wants to dwell on) is enough to drown out the traces of Chronos' voice inside him.

But to be safe, he leaves the bruises on Len's skin.

The rest of it; the breaks and the sprains and the bleeding and the more serious cuts – they are taken care of as soon as he's gotten Len in that chair in med bay. He's backing up against the wall to give the other man some space, and watches some tension bleed out of him at the loss of what was probably some serious aches and pains.

But he leaves the bruises. They remind him of what he's done. Remind him that for most of his life, he's wanted to protect this man, not hurt him. And they remind him that Len had been given good reason not to come back for him in the first place.

If Len notices that some of the injuries that could have been taken care of remains, he doesn't say anything about it. Instead he gingerly puts both of his feet on the floor when it's over, testing it out, before standing up and looking at Mick.

"What now?"

Oh god, where to begin? If Mick was the man he once was, he'd want to burn something. He feels the echo of it, thinks that maybe that's exactly what he should be doing, but it's been lifetimes since he could afford to drop everything for fire. So he raises his voice slightly, speaks to the panel on the wall behind Len:

"Set a course for Nanda Parbat."

"Yes sir."

He turns back to Len:

"I'm bringing you back to the team."

Len's eyes narrow. He doesn't ask, but Mick can see the Why? in how he raises his head just a little.

"You need to warn them. Since I failed to bring you in, the Time Masters are gonna want to bring me in, and this time, they're not gonna take any chances. They'll send the hunters after you."

He doesn't say we or us, because he hasn't got the right to. Perhaps he never will again. But this, at least, he can do.

Betrayal and rash actions has led them here, and what they had, what they were, may be something that can never be mended. But he tells himself it doesn't matter. What can be done, right now, is to return Len to his team. And see where things go from there.

Much later on, when he wakes up on the Waverider, and Gideon informs him of what happened (no one else probably dared to), he sits frozen and silent for what may be an eternity. Because it suddenly clicks. Why Len didn't come back for him in that forest. It wasn't because the Chronos thing, it wasn't because he fucked up and threatened Lisa, it wasn't because he was weak and got himself brainwashed. Len didn't come back because he couldn't.

Len was right: the only thing stopping him from coming back was death. And the irony doesn't escape him; the reason why Len never came back for him, was that Len did come back for him.