Let the record show that when Snart showed up and proposed they let their fists do the talking, Mick had every intention set on killing him. He'd spent the equivalent to thousands of years at the vanishing point, driven by the thirst for revenge on the brother who betrayed him. The knowledge that while he was in the brig of that other spaceship with the time pirates, Snart had been on the brink of death and thinking of him, hardly made a difference. That day, or night, or whatever the hell it was, had been lifetimes ago. It didn't matter to him that Snart had come close to dying; in fact the only thing that bothers him about it is that the miserable bastard did in fact survive.

He knew he could beat Snart in a fistfight, and he had been certain that he could kill him.

But then the fists started flying.

He punched the man who knocked him over the head and dragged him out of Star City 2046, the man who chose a team of strangers over his supposed best friend. He hit the man who came down into the brig and knocked him out again before waking him up in a forest in the middle of nowhere, who left him in that forest to rot. The man who left him to fend for himself on small animals because there wasn't a single sign of human life anywhere near that forest, he pounded on him until the man couldn't fight back anymore.

But then he knocked the man down and raised his fist high above his head, every intention on finishing it and finally fulfilling his life's mission.

But the man was gone.

Snart was lying below him; eyes half lidded as his vision blurred and blood outlining his nostrils, but he wasn't that traitor of a man anymore. When Mick looked down at Snart to finish what he had his black hole of a heart set on finishing he didn't know what exactly he had expected to see in his former partner's face, but it sure as hell hadn't been the image of a fourteen-year-old boy in way over his head.

He had him pinned against the floor

They had him pinned against the wall

The damn traitor

The new kid

He'd tried to fight but he couldn't win

They'd overpowered him in ten seconds flat

He was waiting for the final blow from his old friend

He saw the shiv and glanced around at every possible exit, there was none.

With a sigh Mick lowered his fist

Abruptly, Mick stood up

"We had a deal Mick, kill me and you walk."

"Let the punk go." He ordered in a commanding tone to the boys who were about to carve the newest inmate.

"What?" The leader of the three who had grabbed the fresh meat asked, though his boys did ease their grips on the kid's arms.

"Everything you wanted,"

He walked over to the leader of the gang, slowly, menacingly. "Let him go," he growled right in his face; they dropped the kid.

"I don't know what I want anymore," He admitted, and that was when he found himself spilling his guts to Snart about the Time Masters' backup plan, and soon he was repeating the same speech to the rest of the team.


"I thought I could do it," He admitted hours later when Sara walked by his open door. It was still very surreal to him; being back in his room on the Waverider. It looked exactly like he had left it; dirty laundry littered the floor along with more than a few lighters, his favorite of which was lying on his bedside table. The blankets were either crumpled at the end of the bed or just kicked off it completely, and a box of useless things he had stolen was placed on top of the desk.

Sara backtracked, coming to stand in his doorway and wonder how long he'd been sitting in his chair in the middle of the room waiting for her to walk by.

"I thought I could kill him," he confessed, Sara just crossed her arms and studied him for a good long minute.

"Why didn't you?" She finally asked, she knew the reason of course but it was obvious that he still needed to say it, and he wasn't going to unless someone prompted him.

"After I saved his ass in Juvie he followed me around like a shadow," he began his tale, "I didn't mind much because he was a smart kid, didn't know how to fight but knew how to come up with a plan. Came up with the entire scheme first time we broke out." He reminisced, noticing that Sara wasn't even bothering to hide the small smile on her face. "Once we were out we went our separate ways. It was only a few months before I ended up back in Juvie, and just a few months after that they dropped that same scrawny punk in, this time he had a few new scars." He told the story as if he was lost in the memory, and despite the questions she had about the scars Sara didn't ask, not yet anyway.

"We busted out again and kept in touch afterward that time, I've by far made more prison trips than him but that's only because I was always stupid enough to get caught." Right there, Sara saw it, right there was where memory lane ended and her opening into the conversation began.

"Bet you wouldn't get caught now," she mused, her arms folding comfortably over her middle.
"You got that right," Mick smirked before his slight smile fell, "How long have I been gone? To you?" He asked her, at the vanishing point time doesn't move, or at least it feels like it doesn't. It exists in a fixed point in time, frozen forever in the last millisecond of eternity. But time moves all around it, so for him thousands of years had passed, but for his team it didn't seem like it had been very long.

Sara let out a sigh as she slowly made her way into the room, walking as if she were thinking over each step she took, until she made it to his bed.

"When you stole the Waverider you left Ray, Kendra, and I in 1958, then found us again at Nanda Parbat in 1960." She reminded without looking at him and he nodded, an almost guilty expression crossing his face.

"Right," he muttered,

"So it's different," she told him, "For us, you were gone two years. For Leonard and the others… about a week." She replied with a shrug. "What about for you?" She asked and he sighed again.

"Let's just say that when it comes to lifetimes, I might be on par with Kendra by now." He replied and she did nothing but nod in acceptance of the answer.

After that they were quiet for a little while longer, just letting the minutes tick by in a sort of comfortable silence.

"So when did he become Leonard?" Mick finally asked; Sara looked at him with a quizzical face.

"What?" She finally asked; Mick chuckled.

"I'm not as thick as I used to be Lance, and even if I was it wouldn't matter, I saw it then too." He said and Sara wanted to ask what he was talking about, but he started explaining when he saw her curiosity hadn't yet gone away. "Back in 2046, when he dragged me away from that gang, he said he was doing it because Wilson was hunting our friends. But do you really think he was willing to cross me over saving Rip?" The question was rhetorical so Sara didn't answer, but Mick still waited a minute before continuing. "He won't admit it, back then I didn't want to either, but he cares about you Sara." He said and Sara avoided his gaze, keeping her mouth clamped shut. "When you came to the brig earlier you called him Leonard, and I know how rare that name is. He's Snart, Cold, occasionally Len, but it's been a long time since I heard someone say Leonard." He continued but Sara only continued to stare at her feet, despite the fact that she was sure Mick was waiting for an answer. "Well," he finally said as he stood from his chair, briefly clasping her on the shoulder once he was on his feet. She looked up when he did this, and found him looking down at her with a blank face that she was sure had a ghost of pride hidden somewhere within. "Good to know someone's got his back when I'm not around," He said this and headed for the door, "No matter how stubborn you both are," he called the last bit over his shoulder and left Sara where she sat on the edge of his bed to think about what he had just said.


Once he left his room Mick found himself wandering the Waverider, and it wasn't long before he found his old partner holed up in his own room with an ice pack pressed to his face.

For a moment Mick just stood in the doorway, he hadn't actually seen this room since he moved out. He and Len had shared it but after the incident in 2046 he had moved out and into Carter's old room. Looking at this room now was proof that it had only been a few days for Len, as Mick's bed and the few pieces of garbage he'd left behind were still there.

"Here to kill me Mick?" Len finally drawled, getting the attention of his visitor.

"Already tried that," The other man mused, leaning up against the doorway. "Your girlfriend tells me it's only been a week to you, since you left me to die." He continued and at this Len set his ice pack aside and looked up.

"I think your confused Mick," he said, "I haven't had a girlfriend in a long time." He continued and Mick actually laughed at the notion.

"Yeah, maybe that's why you're dragging your feet." He said with a smirk, only laughing more when he caught the glare that Len had aimed at him.

"I ain't big on pep talks, and I'm still kind of pissed at you." He began, taking a little more joy in how completely annoyed and uncomfortable Len looked already. "But if you're going make a move on Sara, make it before the time masters find us. Cause after that… well… there won't BE an after that." He advised and with that said he walked away.

Once he was gone Len went back to sitting in silence on his mattress, ice pack now forgotten. He briefly entertained the idea of making a move on Sara, and then decided that he's had enough fists meet his face for one day. So he instead decided to take a nap, trying and failing to convince himself that Mick got the wrong idea.