Leonard Snart grabbed the tool sitting next to his hand only to curse under his breath and put it back. It was the wrong screwdriver. Someone had touched his tools again. The screwdriver that he needed for his Cold Gun was undoubtedly in the closet with the other tools that he didn't keep out on his desk. Grumbling to himself, he walked over to the closet, leaving his gun on the table along with his phone.
He stepped into the small closet, which was large enough for him to turn comfortably in a circle, but not much more. The box he was looking for was towards the back, so he stepped even further into reach it. After digging for a minute or two, he found the screwdriver he was looking for.
Turning around to exit the small closet, he heard the air conditioner kick on with a violent sounding start. He really needed to get that replaced, but this was an old hideout that he rarely used anymore. Then he saw the door slam shut too quickly for him to stop it. He gave an annoyed sigh and turned the doorknob, except the knob didn't turn. He reached up and pulled on the string that dangled above his head, and a dim light filled the space. Looking at the knob, he saw that it had locked, and to his dismay, the mechanism had broken.
With a louder growl of irritation, he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone and text one of his Rogues to come free him when he remembered that his phone was sitting on the table, along with his Cold Gun and his knife. Snart let out a curse and resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. Cool it. He told himself. It wouldn't be too long before one of his Rogues came by and let him out. He could wait.
One hour went by. Leonard Snart had started planning a new heist. He went over every detail and every map in his mind. Anything to get his mind off of the dim space where he sat that felt so much like the closet he had hidden in when he was young in vain attempts to escape his father's drunken rage.
Two hours went by. He had given up on planning. Now he was remembering his past. The terrible nights spent under his father's cruel hand and the beautiful flashes of freedom that he, Lisa, and Mick had shared when they could. His past was terrible, but it had made him into the man he was today, and that man happened to be very good at what he did. Unfortunately, that man was also stuck in a closet.
Three hours went by. The light had gone out by now, and the closet was almost completely dark, the only light came through the cracks around the door. Snart's inability to do anything was beginning to drive him mad. He couldn't get himself out of this dark closet just like he couldn't get himself or his sister out of this dark life that they led. Lisa was so bright, and she deserved better than this.
Four hours went by. Snart was starting to think about giving up the criminal way of life. It had never done him or anyone he loved any good. All it had ever brought him was pain. He should turn his back on it. He would.
Then he heard a sound outside the door. There was a loud crash and the sound of something metal hitting the floor and the door swung slowly open. Outside in the bright light stood a very confused looking Mick Rory. Snart stood quickly, the blood rushing back into his legs painfully. He ignored that and focused on the face of his partner.
"I need something to eat, and then we are going to go rob a bank." he declared and pushed past his fiery friend.
"You okay, Len?" Mick asked in his rough voice.
"Peachy. Grab your gun. By the time the others get back tonight, we are going to be half a million dollars richer." Snart replied.
"What happened to you?"
"I thought about life for awhile and came to the conclusion that having a bank so close by and not robbing it went against my moral code." Mick grinned in his crazy way and grabbed his gun and not an hour later the bank a few blocks away was much poorer and the two thieves were celebrating at a local bar. After all, there was no point in dwelling on the little things.