Stepping outside into the ruin city didn't help the uneasy feeling in my stomach. Everything about the place was wrong.

"I thought you said Star City was safe?" Sara snapped at Rip as we walked down a dark street, cluttered with abandoned cars and broken homes.

"Star City 2016 is. This is Star City 2046."

"What happened here?" Ray asked, his wide eyes scouring the area for anything that might look familiar. However, everything was different here, even I knew that and I had only gotten to live in Star City for a few months before Rip recruited us.

No one had time to guess before an arrow flew right over Ray's head. Surprised, we all turned to the source of the weapon to find a shadow standing tall on top of one of the abandoned cars in the middle of the street. I eyed his suit, recognizing the green fabric and the bow and arrow aimed right at us.

"Oliver?" Sara said out loud, mimicking my thoughts exactly.

As she stepped forward, the man spoke up, "Don't move." I flinched inwardly at the tone of voice, still eyeing the way the man stood and everything else about his posture. Something was just off about it.

"It's me, Sara."

"I said don't move!" His voice rising as Sara took a step forward.

"Look, Oliver, I know it's been a while, but it's us!" Ray tried reasoning with him, stepping up to stand beside Sara. "Remember Rip came and recruited us to become legends?"

The suspicious feeling in my gut was finally answered when the man stepped out of the shadow to reveal that he was in fact not Oliver Queen. "I never heard of any legends."

We all had barely little time to duck behind some cars before he started shooting arrows at us again. I managed to find a hiding spot behind a beige car with Mick and Sara.

"This guy is a friend of yours?" Mick hollered to the two of us over the explosions the man was causing with his arrows. "I don't like him!" He did his best along with Leonard and Rip to aim at the man in green, but he was too fast.

"This can't be The Green Arrow…" Kendra gasped as her and Ray ducked behind a car next to us.

"That's not him!" I called back, regretting the fact I had left my electric gloves in the Waverider.

"Sure dresses like him…" Ray pointed out.

Leonard aimed his cold gun from behind a fallen pillar before adding, "Shoots arrows like him, too."

"Fall back!" Rip finally ordered, causing all of us to stand and scatter.

I just barely missed an explosion to my right, causing me to clutch my already injured arm and run until the bottoms of my feet burned.

When new reached the safety of the Waverider once more, we all followed Rip to the main room while he struggled to explain how the future of Star City 2046 was not yet set and how there was nothing we could do to prevent this future until we got back to our own time. It was obvious that none of us were very pleased with having to be stuck on the Waverider until we could fully repair it; however, none of us spoke of this displeasure out loud.

I found myself viewing broken pieces of the engine room a few minutes later with Jax, Ray, and Rip. I did my best to keep my hands to myself, although I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still curious about how all the future tech worked. It was also still a bit frustrating not being able to feel the technology around me.

"How long will repairs take?" Rip asked Jax, bringing my attention back to the problem at hand.

"No idea," Jax admitted. "Although, it might go faster if I had an extra set of hands? Maybe Kendra could help?"

At the sound of her name, a new, curious emotion set in my veins and flowed through. The only way I could describe it was that of what it felt like to have the electricity flow through my veins. I knew it wasn't mine completely and that my body didn't come up with the motion itself, yet it was still there, flowing through me. Whatever the boys had gone on talking about, I muted out as I focused on this new, separate feeling. Glancing over at Jax, it was then that I knew what was going on.

"Is he interested in her?" I heard Ronnie ask beside me as we both studied Jax from across the room. "I mean, you do have a relatively-close-to-physic-connection with the boy and the professor now that you've merged with them…"

"Makes sense." I mumbled before shaking the feeling off. As weird as it was to know I could share the same emotion with the boys, it was even weirder to know that emotion was set towards the Egyptian princess. Before I could get more of a taste of Jax's feelings, I quickly left the room, looking for the rest of the team.

However, Rip appeared to walk beside me. "I'm going to need your help."

"With what?"

"Babysitting." He replied, hanging me my gloves.

I paused for a second as he continued down the hall. "…. Huh?"

It wasn't until Rip asked Leonard and Mick to steal some prototype from the new Smoak Technologies building, that I had an inkling for what I was babysitting. I sighed, dreading the idea of having to watch over our two criminals in a future set to look like a playground for criminals alike, when Sara walked in.

"I'm coming with you." She announced, dressed in her White Canary suit, all set to go.

"Absolutely not," Rip sighed. "You're too emotional connected to this city."

"I live in Star City…" I reminded him.

"Yes, as a new resident. You weren't born and raised there, hence why I'm not too concerned about bringing you along with me."

"No one knows this city better than I do." Sara pointed out. "You got us on a mission to change the timeline for yourself and you won't let us even look at our futures?"

Rip sighed once more, glancing at Leonard, Mick, and I for some help. Unfortunately for him, the three of us stayed to the side, shrugging our shoulders and secretly pleased that it was Rip who was on Sara's bad side and not us.

"You're going to need me out there. Now either I'm coming with you, or we can see if the Time Masters are as good at teaching people to fight as the League of Assassins."

I think it's easy to understand that Sara came along with us to scour the streets of Star City 2046.

Of course, our plans never go quite as planned though and we ended up in the middle of World War 3 in the center of a small street. Trying to duck for cover, I felt a hand grab my elbow and pull me away from the gunshots and grunts. I turned to find Leonard pulling me towards an abandoned bus.

"Ladies first," Mick teased from behind us before taking my waist and practically lifting me up three of the stairs. The rest of them shuffled behind us as we crawled to the back of the bus and kept our heads down.

I couldn't see much out the window, but something had caught Sara's eyes and within seconds, she was headed back out into the danger zone again.

"Sara!" Rip shouted in warning with no success. We watched her blonde hair bounce away for just a second before Rip whirled around to face the three of us. "Stay here!" And with that, he was also out the door.

He wasn't gone a full minute before Mick spoke up, "We're not really staying here, are we?"

I turned to Leonard, and to no surprise, he was giving that mischievous smirk on his face. "Let's check out that bank we passed not two blocks from here."

"You're joking, right?" I asked, knowing full well they were not. "Rip said to stay here."

"You going to stop us?" Mick responded with too much fire in his eyes, practically begging me to challenge him. However, I wasn't in the mood. I didn't even want to have to babysit anyways.

With another sigh, I shook my head. "No."

"Then join us." Leonard offered before heading out the door.

Assuming Rip would kill me whether I went with them or left them to their own devious plans, I decided to go ahead and follow. Rather die with the boys than alone.

However, I wasn't surprised to find them face-to-face with other bandits when I left the shelter of the bus. Making my way over, I tried my best to avoid the lingering eyes of the men that sat a little too confidentially on their motorcycles.

"Ah, who is this?" The man who seemed to be the leader of these misfits asked. He wasn't as tall as Mick, but more built than Leonard. On his wide shoulders hung an off-white fur coat to show how "special" he was. "You got yourself a little girlie, huh?" His question was directed towards the two men beside me, who both had their hands on their weapons, ready to aim and fire. "How 'bout this? You give me the girl, and I let you walk."

"You have plenty of women." Leonard pointed out, not even glancing at the women who were also equipped with motorcycles or men.

The man with the fur coat shrugged, "Never can have enough women."

Something about that comment forced me to choke back bile.

I heard Mick growl to my left, "She ain't for sale."
"Then I suggest the three of you leave my town."

I raised an eyebrow, "I don't see your name anywhere on these streets."

I kind of hated the fact that I spoke up, because then his beady little eyes landed on mine. His devilish grin made me feel like spiders were crawling on my skin. I steadied myself, refusing to shrink under his stare.

"Mmm, feisty too." The man licked his lips and it took everything in me not to throw up right then and there as his tongue slithered over the dry, cracked, bruised lips of his. "I like that."

He made a step towards me, but before I could step away, Leonard slid in front of me, blocking my view of the creepy man and vice versa.

"My partner said she isn't for sale." Leonard reminded him, coldly. "Which means no touchy-touchy."

"Especially not around us." Mick's eyes narrowed, his hand curled around his gun, knuckles white.

Then I heard a blow and gasped as Leonard staggered back, holding his jaw. The skin there was slightly bruised, in the shape of the fur-man's large knuckles. My hand landed on his arm, keeping him back by me as I checked for swelling. I almost missed the part where Mick released his heat-gun and shot it at fur-man.

As Leonard straightened back up, Mick was taking the fur coat for himself, relishing in the feel of it as he draped it over his bulky frame. He grinned at us like a kid during Christmas before turning to the leaderless crew. Walking over to the abandoned motorcycle that once belonged to the unconscious (and probably dead) leader, he jumped on and sank happily into the leather seat.

"Come on, Mick." Leonard said, stretching his jaw slightly as he spoke. "It's time to head back."

Mick looked up at us with a new spark in his eyes. "Why would we?" He turned the engine on before pointing at some red-headed, busty chick next to us. "You. Come on."

I watched the woman climb on the back of Mick's motorcycle before turning to Leonard, unsure of what to do. His blue eyes glanced down at me before sighing, caving in as he walked over to take a motorcycle for his own. I stood there, still conflicted by the sudden change of plans, before Leonard patted the seat behind him.

They both had just stopped a man from harassing me. They kept him from touching me and out of harms way. With them, I was safe in a city like this.

Oh, what the hell. I threw caution to the wind, slinging on leg over the vehicle and settling in behind Leonard, clutching on tightly to his blue parka as we took off down the street, owning the city as our own.

I never really enjoyed the smell of smoke, sweat, alcohol, and sex in the air. However, in the misfits' little hide-out, the scent was almost impossible to get away from. The music was loud enough to shake the bar I was leaning against and sent that vibrating pulse through every inch of my being, ringing in my ears as people danced provocatively around me.

How did I let myself get caught up here? I wondered as I sighed out loud, resting my elbows against marble surface in front of me.

"You look like you could use a drink." A voice said, snapping me out of my misery. I wasn't too surprised to see the tattooed bartender speaking to me. It's their job to be alcohol servers and semi-counselors, or so I've heard.

I shook my head and politely declined, "Oh, no, I don't drink."

"That's a lie." I could hear Ronnie's voice laugh in my head. I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling him to shut it.

The bartender eye-balled me suspiciously. "You don't drink? Then what are you doing here?"

"Babysitting," I responded almost too quickly, trying not to roll my eyes in the back of my head. "You see, I'm supposed to watch over these two-." I turned my head to point out Mick whom I had last saw downing a drink with the red-headed bimbo on his arm and Leonard, who was being cornered by some blondes, but I found myself looking in a crowd of faces I didn't recognize instead. "Shit…" I hissed under my breath, sighing once more in frustration.

"Seems like you're doing a terrible job." With furrowed eyebrows, I turned to face him just as he sat a small shot glass down in front of me. "Not blaming you," he assured me. "Watching over a group like this is a hassle, I would know."

I couldn't help but crack a smile at that. "I'm sure you do."

"Go ahead, drink." He said, nodding to the glass he set in front of me as he wiped down an empty one in his hands.

"But my friends-."
"Are probably doing the same thing right now."

That made me stop short. He was right.

Why was I always the one who was thinking responsibly? Why was I always the one who had to remind everyone of the mission at hand? I thought back to the mission back in 1970, when the others had to convince me to go to the bar with them to have a little fun. Yeah, sure, it ended in a bar fight, but we didn't cause any issues to the timeline and everyone made it out alive.

"You're pretty good at that," I finally said, taking the small shot glass in my hand.

"Good at what?" He asked, though the small smirk on his lips told me he knew exactly what I was talking about.

I smiled and gave him a playful roll of my eyes. "I bet you're the reason why everyone in here is drunk," I told him, before shooting back the hard liquor he put in my glass. It burned on the way down and didn't take long to kick in, making some of the worrisome knots in my stomach disappear instantly. "Got any more of that stuff?"

"Sure." As I reached in to my pocket to pull out my wallet, he shook his head. "Everything is on me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. To be honest, you look like you need it."

Oh, boy, he was not wrong. I'm not sure how many drinks I had before I finally let loose, but when I did, all worries were thrown to the wind. I think it was my tenth shot I had before some random girls convinced me to go on the dance floor with them. I couldn't remember the last time I went to a party… Actually, I couldn't remember much to be honest.

I spun my head around, trying to remember what I was doing there in the first place, when the whole room moved with my eyes. I stumbled and knocked into some couple who had their tongues jammed down each other's throats. They didn't break apart until I tripped into them the second time.

"Want to join us?" The woman grinned, lipstick smeared over her upper lip and teeth.

"Uh, no thank you…" I managed a smile before stepping away from the two. I'm drunk, but not that drunk.

Finally, when I reached the bar, I was disappointed to see the original bartender was replaced with another. However, there was one familiar figure who sat on a barstool right dab in the middle of the alcohol-zone. I couldn't help but grin when I noticed his large form and somehow managed to make my way over to him.

"There you are!" I giggled as I walked up to stand beside him. I thought I saw him flinch slightly when I placed a hand on his broad shoulder, but it didn't fully register because he didn't pull away completely and my drunken-state wasn't paying much attention to details. "I've been so lonely! I couldn't find anyone I knew!"

Mick eyed me with a curious look, sweeping his eyes from my staggering feet to my swaying head. I could just barely see him narrow his eyes at me through my slightly blurry vision. "Are you drunk, Sparky?" He grumbled.

"Only a little." I assured him, patting his shoulder. I continued to keep my hand there for stability, seeing as my whole being kept tilting from one side to the next.

I thought I saw him crack a smile, "So, you're a funny drunk, huh? Not what I expected."

"Well, what did you expect?" I asked as he took a long drag of the beer in his hand.

"Emotional drunk."

"What?" I squealed, placing a hand over my heart. "Me? Noooo."

He nodded, "Oh yeah. I pictured you as a crier and everything." He admitted it so easily.

I pouted slightly, feeling a little down but only for a short second before realizing how much I liked the song that was playing. I immediately began moving my hips to the beat, still holding onto Mick in case my feet decided to give out.

"Having fun?" He asked.

"Loads! I've danced all night! I even got asked to join some make-out fest over there!" I informed him excitedly, pointing over to the couple who were even more handsy now than they were when I bumped into him.

His face quickly fell, "You didn't… Did you?"

I laughed at how wide his eyes were. "Nah."

I continued to move to the music when I heard him mumble, "Good."

"Why?" I questioned, finally stilling my body and turning to fully face him. "Did you want to kiss me yourself, Mick?"

His eyes widen even more as I leaned forward slightly more than I had planned, almost stumbling into his arms completely. One of his hands reached out and caught my waist before I could fall into his lap. I never noticed how large his hands were until this one almost curled around my whole hip. I could see him gulp at the smoky air around us.

"No." He finally said, pushing me back just enough to where he gained his personal space again.

"Ouch." I frowned. That one hurt a lot more than the comment before, although I couldn't really tell why. "Am I really not that kissable?"

The big guy's cheeks flushed slightly as he took another long drag of the cold beer in his large hand. "I don't know, never kissed you before, Sparky."

"Well," I stepped forward then, allowing the drink in my system to pull me forward, standing in between his legs as he remained frozen on his stool. He tensed up a little when I first wrapped my arms around his neck, but he was so warm, I couldn't help it. "If you kiss me now, then you'll know how kissable I am, right?" I couldn't read the thoughts flying through his mind, but I could tell he was conflicted for some reason as he furrowed his thick brows. While he was thinking, I got a little side-tracked. "Hey…" My voice turned soft for some reason as I stared into his eyes, "I never noticed you had blue eyes… They always seemed so dark from far away…"

For a split second, his eyebrows relaxed and I could feel the muscles under my arms soften as if my words had touched something soft within him. But he doesn't like to be called soft, so I didn't dare say it out loud. I also didn't mention how warm he felt, even though he was wearing the fur coat he stole and his normal long-sleeves, I could still feel the warmth radiating from him as if he was some walking heater.

Heatwave was a fine persona for him after-all.

But the surprising calmness I was feeling while holding him disappeared all too soon when he pulled my arms off of him and held me at arms-length, his grip tight on both of my shoulders. "I'm ain't going to kiss you."

"Why not?"

"You're drunk."

"So? Bimbo over there," I nodded my head in the direction of the red-head (I think) as he dropped his hands into his lap, "is drunk and you let her get on a motorbike with you!" I scowled.

"You don't want to kiss me," he growled.

"Why not? Because you think you're a bad guy?"

"No! Because you are drunk!" He spits out every word separately as if it would help my foggy mind understand what he was trying to say.

"What does that have to d-."

"It's only the drink talking, Sparky." He tried reasoning with me, his expression going back to the hard, mean Mick that everyone else sees. "And I don't want to hear you complain about it later when you're sober."

It'd be an understatement to say that the lightbulb finally came on upstairs. To be honest, the meaning of his words hit my head so hard, I thought I was going to lean over and hurl… Or maybe that was the alcohol. However, his words also hit a dormant spot in my chest and sparked a feeling in my heart that I hadn't felt in a while.

"Are you saying…" I hesitated, not wanting the big guy to retaliate and go all angry after I had just heard him hint at something so sweet. "Are you refusing to kiss me because you're afraid it's not consensual…?" He glanced my way a bit, not saying anything before I started to add, "Consensual is when-."

"I know what consent means." He growled, rolling his eyes and taking another drink of his beer.

He didn't say anything for a while before I spoke up again, "Well? That's what you're saying, isn't it? You're afraid I'll regret it later."
He didn't say anything still, staring straight ahead, probably trying to ignore me. My heart swelled even more though. Here I was being insecure and thinking Mick would kiss anyone but my drunken self right now, when in reality, he wouldn't kiss anyone who is drunk. It wouldn't be considered consensual. He was thinking of me, even when I wasn't thinking of me.

But I knew what I wanted, especially in that moment. There wasn't a single nerve in my body that wanted to run, not a single second-thought in my head. I felt safe doing this. Nothing felt wrong about it. Yeah, I had one too many drinks, but if I hadn't gotten a few drinks in my system, I probably would have never had the courage to even suggest the idea of kissing to Mick.

I wanted to ask Ronnie what he thought, as weird as that sounds, but he wasn't there to nag me and tell me otherwise. That's because my mind is already set.

Using the only courage I had left, I used the hand I had on Mick's shoulder still to reach up and gently touch his cheek. Mick's eyes went wide again and I thought I heard his breath hitch when my skin touched his, and I froze in fear that I'd scare his gentle side away. I stayed like that for a few seconds, holding my breath, waiting for him to shoo me away again, only relaxing when he didn't move for a good ten minutes. When the coast was clear, I reached out with the other hand and turned his face to look at me, gently stroking the stubble on his jaw.

I could hear him breathing heavily through his nostrils and I was worried he was getting angry, until I noticed his shaking hands in his lap. Was Mick Rory… Nervous?

"If you don't want to…" I began to say, swallowing a lump in my throat, afraid he'll decide that it still isn't a good idea. But everything from the tips of my toes to my scalp was telling me that this was what I wanted, so I didn't stop. "Drunk or not, Mick Rory, I do want this." His expression didn't change although his eyes were searching every inch of my face, pausing to look at my lips only a few times. I hated that I wasn't a mind reader in that moment, because he made me wait a long while, I could even feel my hands get a little clammy.

I opened my mouth to ask if he had changed his mind, if I had somehow convinced him that with or without alcohol, I can make grown decisions, but before I could utter another word, I felt him place his mouth over mine. I can't remember ever actually wondering what it would be like to kiss Mick, yet it still somehow managed to be exactly how I thought it would be.

He tasted like beer and cigars, and I know how I mentioned before that I don't like that smell, but the taste of it mingled with his hot breath was something else entirely that gave my head a whole new dizzy feeling. His lips claimed mine so strongly, I felt my body move on its own accord; my toes curling inside my boots and my hands reaching up to grab anything and pull him closer. Slipping my hands underneath the overly-large fur coat, I was satisfied with clinging to his shirt just above his chest. However, I still couldn't control my feet and the force behind his kiss was strong enough to have me staggering backwards. I'm glad I had fisted his shirt, afraid my falling might have given him some impression that I didn't find the kiss satisfying, but that was so not true. Luckily, Mick took the hint and stood up out of his chair, knocking his barstool over, causing me to gasp when he turned us both so I was pressed back into the wooden bar, before he bent down for my lips again.

I could feel the shock of the event slowly pulling me down from my drunken state and yet, somehow replacing it with another, stronger feeling of being lightheaded and tingly. When his large hands found my hips and squeezed, I gasped, giving him the room he needed to explore my mouth with his tongue. I wasn't surprised that our fiery arsonist was taking this chance to devour me, because that's exactly what fire would do, and that's just who Mick is. He's the fire that lights something in you once he gets his hands on you. I never expected him to restrain himself, to be the person who calms the situation before it gets entirely out of hand.

But to my surprise, I could feel his whole being began to relax and slow his movements. With my eyes closed, I was more aware of how his larger figure began to rest against me as if he was trying to tell me he was tired of it all, as if he needed this moment to just be held. It surprised me even more as his kisses began to slow to soft, gentle pecks. I could feel how bruised my lips probably were from the initial contact, but with each peck of his soft lips, it was like he was trying to mask that moment with something much sweeter, something that made my knees even weaker than before. His lips covered mine once more in a long, soft kiss that had me digging my nails into his shoulders so I could pull him closer. He pressed me so close against him, I had to tilt my head up to keep from losing touch of his lips. His giant arms had engulfed me completely, wrapping around my waist, practically lifting me up off the ground an inch or so.

Then the spots behind my closed eyelids began to get darker and my legs almost gave out before I pulled away, because it wasn't until then that I remembered my lungs need a thing called oxygen, and Mick was pulling all the oxygen I had from my lungs with his kiss.

I sucked in as much air as I could while our lips were separated, feeling my heart slamming against my chest, trying to focus on regaining feeling in my knees. I closed my eyes once more and was glad Mick gave me the time to lean against him and relax.

It was silent between the two of us after that, only the sound of our ragged breathing as we both tried to catch up with what just happened between us. I didn't have the time to register what really just went on, before I heard some commotion on the other side of the hideout.

Mick must have heard it to, releasing me from his grasp to turn and see what was going on. I couldn't see over his tall form and continued to lean back against the bar, already missing how warm and comfortable he was compared to the mildly sticky atmosphere around us.

"Who the hell invited these guys?" Mick growled as my head swung. I didn't hear the response he got or anything after that until Leonard walked forward.

"Looks like it's time to go, Mick."

"Why would we leave?" Mick resumed his spot on the barstool next to me.

"They're going to kill Sara and Rip. Our friends." That got what was left of my hazy attention and I lifted my head to look up at his stiff figure. He stood there, staring at Mick, expecting Mick to follow.

However, the big guy didn't budge. "Our friends? Since when do we have friends?"

Leonard's eyes fell on me just for a brief moment before looking back at Mick with an air of annoyance. "Let's go."

An animalistic growl escaped the man in front of me and to my surprise, he lifted his heat gun at Leonard before stating, "You're not my boss!"

"Actually, I am." Leonard growled back, staring him down with such an icy anger that I caught myself flinching away from the two before putting myself in the middle.

"L-look…" I staggered a bit before putting my hands up. "We've all just had a long day, that's all this is. We need to take a deep breath and-."

Mick sighed, putting his gun down and rolling his eyes. "Let's just go."

I watched them head out the door, a bit surprised at how easy that was before following their lead with wobbly legs.

When we met back up with Sara and Rip, it was in some tiny abandoned warehouse where it looked like they were being ambushed. I was grateful that I had the gloves Rip gave me on as I aimed at the nearest guy and watched him convulse from the electricity that spouted out of my fingers, before he hit the floor, no longer moving. The next guy came running too fast for my blurry vision to compromise and when I tried to aim, I missed and hit some sort of power box nearby, causing a flash of fire and a loud pop to echo through the building.

"Watch it!" Leonard called out before turning back to the fight. Luckily, this gave me enough time to disengage from the fun for a second to throw up behind a pillar.

When I came back, I was surprised to find Leonard, Sara, and Rip standing over some unconscious men. One of those men happened to be Mick.

"What did I miss?" I asked, slurring my words only slightly.

Sara gave an amused smile, "Are you drunk?"

I gasped, slightly offended. "No!" However, I almost tipped over which said otherwise.

Leonard caught my arm before stating, "He'll be fine. Rip and Sara is going to take him back to the ship."

"What about you?"

"Well, someone has to make sure you get back in one piece."

I didn't make it an easy job for Leonard. By time we got back to the ship, I ran to the bathroom to spill some more liquids. Afterwards, I brushed my teeth quite sloppily before Leonard help me to bed.

Once I settled into my covers, he asked, "Good?"

I nodded, my eyes already falling close. "Good."

I could hear the smile in his voice as he said, "Who knew the goodie-two-shoes likes to get wasted?"

"I used to do that a lot." I admitted, although I wasn't sure why I was telling him this. All I knew was that the room was spinning even with my eyes shut and every word that came out of my mouth was the truth. "I drank a lot after Ronnie's death. Don't know why. Didn't really help. But I guess that's what people do when they're sad or angry, they drink… Maybe that's why Mick drinks so much…"

There was a long silence after that. I was convinced he had left the room without me noticing and I was drifting further and further into deep sleep with every passing second. I was almost off to dreamland when I felt something soft brush against my lips. The sweet taste of cool mint was short and sweet, but it was enough to make my fingers tingle. The feeling was cold, but in a good way. Almost as though the sensation was healing every burning, stinging part inside me with a cold wash of water. I wanted so badly too pull the source of the feeling closer and hold it tight, but my body felt like lead and I could no longer move my limbs at free will. So, instead, I let the feeling linger just a tad bit longer before opening my eyes.

Opening my eyes, I came to find that Leonard's face was a lot closer than before, and realization hit me. With a sleepy pout, I said, "Hey, you stole that kiss…"

Leonard shrugged. "It's what us thieves do." And with a final pat to my head, he left the room.

I slept well that night with the innocent dreams of when Ronnie and I used to play on the swings as kids. I could hear his laughter ring through the air and in my sleep, I watched him grow older and fall in love with the red head I became close to later on. I had been so happy for him, glad that he was in such a sweet relationship with someone so kind.

I vaguely remember thinking about how I hoped for the same thing in my future.