Author's Note: Tis the season. Another year, and another bought of the crud that has me out of work. Hopefully I will someday finish this. Please excuse all mistakes, they are all mine.

Plucking the keys out of her hand as quickly as she fished them from the bottom of her purse, Leonard quickly steered Charlie to the passenger side, and nearly growled at her when she appeared to be on the verge of arguing. They stood in the slowly emptying parking lot longer than he wanted, glaring at one another, until she relented with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

Waiting until she was safely tucked inside, he motioned for her to buckle up, before slamming the door. Making his way around the car to the driver's side, he methodically went over the last few minutes, not liking any of it. Irritation rubbed him raw, but he forced back the desire to unleash some of his rage, by keeping focus on their surroundings.

Easing the car out of the lot, he kept his mind busy navigating the traffic, paying special attention to the cars in the review mirror. Soon they were out of the city and headed back to Charlie's house. He let his mind clear of dark thoughts, before allowing himself to say anything.

What was supposed to be a quick, easy job, had somehow turned into something else entirely. Repayment to some cute, but odd girl, who'd taken pity on him and saved his sorry ass. When Lisa goaded him over being saved by an ignorant civilian, he despised the odd feeling of obligation eating away at his gut. The longer he stewed over it, the clearer it became that to get back to normal, he needed to clean the slate.

To be fair, he'd convinced himself she would've wanted something easy, superficial even. That he'd merely procure whatever her pretty little heart desired, then they'd be square.

He should've known better. When a girl didn't freak out when tied to a chair by a criminal, should set off a few warning alarms. The second alarm he really should've paid attention to. The bruise on Charlotte's arm had the blood in his veins turn to ice. It smacked a little too close to protective for his liking. Same with the asinine pull to defend her just now back at the seminar.

These were all signs of him getting soft, and he really didn't like it.

Not one bit.

So now he was in a pickle. Somehow, the crazy little package sitting silently next to him had somehow backed him into a corner. He could feel his natural instincts kicking in, and he was programmed to choose the less strings attached route.

So, he needed to finish what he'd already given his word to do (stupid) then cut bait and run (smart). It had to be the time of year, the holidays did foolish things to people's heads, and he knew somehow the candy canes and blinking lights were to blame.

Distance, it was best for all parties. He never left a job unfinished. But that didn't mean answers weren't necessary. Something significant had just gone down, and his gut told him answers were a necessity.

"Tell me." Pleased he didn't growl, Leonard clenched the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. "Who exactly was that woman?"

Head leaning against the window, Charlie's tone was slightly defensive. "I already told you."

"So, tell me again." Leonard purred. "It seems I'm a slow learner."

He felt her tense beside him and allowed her a moment to put her thoughts together. "Her name is Molly Hamilton."

"I'm gonna need more than that Charlotte." Leonard sighed when she fell silent. Though with a name he could track the woman down.

"When I found out about my sudden healing ability, I was a few months shy of graduating from the student nursing program." Twisting her fingers in her lap, Charlie fidgeted under the tense silence. "I was working on the pediatrics floor, and there was a five-year-old boy, Eliot, with an inoperable brain tumor."

"He was a pretty awesome kid." Smiling to herself, Charlie leaned her head against the glass of the passenger window. "But every day I went to his room, he was worse than he'd been the day before. His parents . . . I have never seen anyone love their kid like they did. They sat in his room, day after day, with these painfully optimistic looks on their faces."

"So, you saved the kid." Not wanting to hear much more, Leonard tried to beat her to the punch.

"No, I didn't."

His eyes left the road, as his head swung in her direction.

"I was in denial. My powers were just starting to show, and I was terrified. When Eliot died – I have never been so disgusted with myself."

"Charlotte, the kid was sick. You can't blame yourself."

"The image of his parents, grieving over their son's body, will forever be burned in my mind." Charlie sighed miserably. "I could have saved him."

Not sure he really needed the backstory; Leonard was half tempted to demand she answer his initial question. But stopped himself, when a lone tear rolled down from her eye. God, he really hated it when women cried.

"After that, I got a little reckless."

"Reckless?"

"I never wanted to feel like that again." Charlie whispered. "So, I healed when I could. I took patients pain away and gave them a second chance at life. Young, old, it really didn't matter. Just as long as I didn't have to watch people lose their loved ones like that. But -."

"There's always a but." Leonard sighed.

"But I got sloppy." Charlie sighed. "It seems too many miracle recoveries gains some attention."

"Molly."

"Yeah." Charlie said. "From the beginning that woman was a real piece of work. She was borderline cruel most of the time. Degrading us when we made mistakes – "

"Us?"

"Me and the other student nurses."

"Whose bright idea was it to put that woman in charge?" Leonard scowled. "A masochist?"

"Something like that." Charlie chuckled. "She cornered me one day, going on and on about how amazing I was. That with my 'gift' we could do amazing things. At the same time, she started talking about how much money we could make."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." His words made her pause, and he felt her eyes glaring at him. Oh right, perhaps he should've kept that to himself. "Continue."

"My conversation with Molly made me realize I'd been stupid."

"Not stupid." He interrupted. "You were right the first time, you'd been reckless."

"Gee thanks." Charlie huffed.

"What do you want me to do? Lie to you?" He snapped back.

"No." She replied miserably. "I'd thought my mutation was a gift. But the greed radiating off Molly made me realize I'd put myself, and my family in danger. It was all fine and good when I controlled the healing. But if others like Molly found out? I quit the program the next day. A couple of weeks later I found out Grams was sick. After that, I realized my gift wasn't good enough to save her."

Narrowing his eyes, Leonard let out a sigh. "Are you telling me Ms. Cold Eyes saw you heal? Or was she just guessing?"

"I really don't know." Charlie groaned. "I think if she was certain she would've approached me again. But I can't say she wasn't suspicious."

"Perhaps I should kill her." Leonard contemplated softly to himself, calculating just how much havoc the woman could create.

Pretending she hadn't heard his softly spoken words Charlie pointed to the right. "Take the next street."

"Why would I do that?" Irritated blue eyes flashed at her.

"We need to pick Cory up from school."

"Do we really have to?" Making a face, Leonard frowned. "I'm pretty sure she has rabies, and my shots aren't up to date." His words had the desired effect, and Charlie's infectious laugh filled the car.

XXXXXX

When they arrived back at the Donavan household, Leonard had been seriously contemplating ramming the car into the nearest tree to put them all out of their misery. Inches away from losing his calm and laying into the mouthy little snot in the backseat, he may have braked a little too hard, but feeling Cora-snot slamming into his seat helped lift his mood.

From the very second Charlie's baby sister had slid into the backseat, her mouth had spewed the most obnoxious and tiresome tripe. And here he had been under the impression that Lisa had been the worst teen known to mankind.

The back door slammed shut, setting his teeth on edge. "Can I kill her now?"

"That was mild." Charlie muttered, as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "She once made a guidance counselor cry."

"Charming." Shaking his head, Leonard reminded himself he needed distance, and a drink – maybe two. Taking the keys out of the ignition, he tossed them into her lap. "Well, this was fun, but I've got places to go, beers to consume."

Charlie felt the atmosphere within the car change, and felt foolish, and fervently wished she hadn't divulged so much personal information. Crap and double crap. What in the hell was wrong with her? Was she really so desperate for companionship that she'd spew her secrets so easily? To Leonard Snart of all people? No wonder he needed space. There was nothing worse than some weepy stage five clinger.

Crap.

Slipping out of the car, Charlie refused to look back, instead kept her head held high while she let herself into the house, just in time to hear Cory's bedroom door slam from within the house. At least some things didn't change.

"Gram?"

"In the kitchen Charlie Bean." Hearing the fatigue in the older woman's tone, Charlie pushed back her self-loathing, and headed to the kitchen.

The difference of her Gram's appearance from the day before to now was worrisome. The pep from the night before was diminished, and her hands shook as she tried to pour hot water from the kettle into a mug. She was declining again, and it made her previous feelings of inadequacy feel pointless.

"Why don't you rest?" Moving forward and gently guiding her Gram to the nearest chair at the kitchen table, her way of letting the older woman know she really hadn't meant it to be a suggestion. If there was one thing Charlie had learned over the last two years about the woman who raised her, she could be a stubborn pain in the butt when she put her mind to it.

"So where did you run off to today?" Lowering herself down slowly into the kitchen chair, Adele sent her granddaughter a knowing look.

"Nowhere really." Careful to turn her back so her face wouldn't give her away, Charlie headed back to the counter to finish up the tea. Taking her time with the honey, she took a few deep breaths.

"Were you with your young man?" Adele pressed.

"Gram, he's not . . ." Frowning, Charlie added a splash of milk to the tea, trying to swallow her guilt, while reminding herself why she was lying in the first place. "He took me to lunch."

"I like him." Oh, that was just great. If Gram's internal bullshit meter was off, it only proved how sick she was. In the past nothing could get pass Adele Donovan's notice. But if she liked Leonard Snart, it meant Gram was losing her edge.

"You like him?" Bringing her the mug of tea, Charlie placed it in front of her before taking a seat. "Do I have some competition?"

"Perhaps if I was a few decades younger." Adele chuckled. "He's really nice to look at. His eyes are hypnotizing, and the buns on that man."

"Grams." Sputtering, Charlie felt her cheeks burn.

"Oh, don't Grams me, and stop blushing." Sipping her tea, Adele gave her granddaughter a long look before setting the mug back down. "It's about time. I was starting to wonder if you were gay and were just too afraid to say something. Should we have that birds and bees talk again?"

"No, god no." The very last thing she wanted to discuss with her Grams, was having sex with Leonard Freaking Snart. "We really don't need to relive that, like ever."

"Spoilsport." With a shrug, Adele sipped her tea again. "I find a person's eyes tells a lot about them. Their strengths, their weaknesses it's all right there. Michael's eyes tell a story about a young man who is a survivor. I can't think of anyone better for my little survivor, then another survivor."

She was going to hell. Fooling her dying grandmother with a fake boyfriend promised her a one-way pass to hades.

"I'm not planning on marrying him." Suddenly needing something else to do, then sit at the table and lie to her Grams, Charlie decided a mug of tea was the best way to help her not break down and spill everything. "So don't get too attached."

"Do you remember when Pal and I first brought you home?" Closing her eyes, Charlie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to block the emotions her Grams's words evoked. "Skinny like a beanpole. It took forever for you to warm up to us. There were times I wondered if we were doing you more harm than good."

"I really don't remember much of the first year." Charlie muttered.

"The first time you called me Grams was one of the best days of my life." Adele sighed. "But no matter how much we tried, you refused to call Liam, Grampa. It was always Pal."

A small smile tugged at Charlie's lips, as she added an unhealthy amount of sugar to her tea. Returning to the table, she sat down. "Because he was my Pal. He saved me."

"You may have warmed to us, but Charlie Bean you need to let other people in." Setting a comforting hand on top of hers, Adele gave a slight squeeze. "We both know I am not long for this earth."

Snatching her hand back, Charlie felt her heart stop. "Don't."

"Sooner or later, I'm going to die, everyone does, it's all a part of being alive." Adele stated matter of fact. "I know you're strong, and that you're a survivor, but just surviving can get very lonely."

"You make it sound like I don't have any friends."

"Oh Bean." Adele sighed, as she stood and leaned over to kiss Charlie on the top of her head. "It's because you don't. You have a big heart, I just wish you'd let others see it. Now I'm going to take a nap."

Watching her Gram shuffle off to the stairs, Charlie looked down at her cooling mug of tea. She wished she could just admit everything. To unburden herself of all her lies. But she was in too deep, and she seriously doubted Adele Donovan would take to kindly to being lied to, especially by one of her own. Besides, it was only a few more weeks. She could do this, she had to do this.

The sound of footsteps bouncing down the steps alerted her to an oncoming war on the horizon. Her day wasn't complete without their daily battle of wills.

Beating her little sister to the door, Charlie braced herself for Cory's vile attitude. Impact in three, two, one. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Out." Stopping on the bottom step, Cory rolled her eyes, as she shoved her arms through the sleeves of her jacket.

"Cory, we've been through this. I have to go to work, and Grams can't be alone." Hands on her hips, Charlie wished for just one day, not to be put in the position of being the bad guy.

Anger rolled across Cory's face. "That's every night this week! You know I deserve a life too!"

"A life? All I do is work." The day had been too raw, too confusing, and having to spend energy to make her sister understand why she couldn't be a selfish cow was the last straw. "If I'm not at work, I'm taking care of Gram, paying the bills, dealing with your bullshit while trying to keep this house running. I can't do everything, all of the time."

"So, I'm supposed to just give up everything?" Clearly not impressed, Cory took the last step and bypassed the front door and headed toward the back of the house.

"What a bitch." Charlie cursed under her breath, as she started after her sisters retreating form. If she had to tackle the tiny snot and hog tie her to a kitchen chair, she would do it. Following Cory out the backdoor before the screen had a chance to slam shut, Charlie called out a warning to her sister.

Which she obviously ignored.

XXXXXXXXXX

After a quick call to Nibbles, ensuring she'd made some progress on the tasks he'd enlisted her for, Leonard stopped by the house to make sure Mick hadn't burnt it down in his absence. As luck would have it, the house was still in one piece, though his partner was still put out with him, and was sulked in a corner nursing his bad mood with a bottle.

When his chores were done, he decided after the very long, and strange day he'd had, a little bit of fun was in order. Perhaps a little bit of violence would put him in a better mood. And he knew exactly where he could find a little bit of fun with a side of violence.

It'd been a while since his last visit to Diamonds. His memories of that night were still a little foggy, but from what he could remember, Mick had a lot of fun. Lots of broken tables, a few broken bones and one helluva hangover.

Nodding to the bouncer at the door, Leonard stepped into the dim room and took a look around, taking in the thin crowd and the handful of girls, before making his way over to the bar. Sliding onto a barstool, he waited patiently for the bartender to turn around.

"Daphne." Flashing the less than thrilled bartender a toothy grin, Leonard snorted when she only narrowed her eyes in return.

"Snart." With a sigh, she automatically grabbed a beer from the cooler and popped the top, before sliding it over the bar. "This ones on the house, then you can take your Devilish charm act you got going on and get the hell out."

"Why must you be so mean?" Laughing when the older woman only snorted at him, Leonard took a long pull of his beer.

"Because the last time you were here it took us a week to reopen."

"I think your mind's a little hazy." Setting down the bottle, Leonard gave a careless shrug. "That was Mick and a misplaced roofie which resulted in that little misunderstanding."

Lifting a painted brow in his direction, Daphne tilted her head slightly, as her hand rested on her hip. "That little misunderstanding left four customers in the ICU and the girls out of a paycheck."

"So, you're still a little bitter?"

"Yes Snart, I'm still a little bitter." Daphne snapped, clearly out of patience. "So, drink your damn beer and get lost."

"Fine." Leonard sighed deeply. "My little visit has a purpose."

"Shocker."

"There's a girl who works here."

"There are many girls who work here."

Narrowing his eyes, Leonard contemplated his next words carefully. "Any of them have a little altercation last night? One that may have left a hand shaped bruise on their arm?"

"Perhaps." Daphne's mouth pinched, and her eyes turned downright hostile. "Can't see why it'd interest you."

She made a good point, but he wasn't here to talk about his lapse in judgement. He was here to unleash some internal aggression. "Let's just say I've taken an interest in the wellbeing of the strippers of Central City."

"How charitable of you. Drink your beer and go." Clearly not buying his flippant explanation, Daphne started to move away.

"Wait." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Leonard closed his eyes. Why couldn't he skip the talking part and just get down to the violence portion of his plot? His eyes snapped back open and landed on an impatient barkeep. "Fine, if you must know, I've made a new acquaintance. Petite, long strawberry blonde hair, passably unstable at times."

"Why're you asking?" Shrewd, and suspicious, Daphne couldn't be easily moved. Not that he'd ever admit to it out loud, but he liked the retired stripper. She didn't take any bullshit and was a protective mama bear to the other females who worked in the bar. "Can't see you giving a damn one way or another. Strippers get manhandled all the time."

Well that unwanted image didn't sit well with him. The flash of anger it invoked was also completely unwelcomed. "I'm not here to chit chat."

"Seeing you were banned for life, you're not supposed to be here at all." With a hand on her hip, Daphne eyeballed him. "So, drink up and get lost. While you're at it, leave Charlie alone. She's a good girl, who was dealt a crap hand."

"The anthem song of every girl who ends up in this line of work." Taking a sip, Leonard set the bottle back down. "Good girl, plus bad situation, equals G-strings, blacklights, and a pole."

"You ain't wrong." Daphne grunted.

"Daphne, who put that bruise on Charlie's arm?"

"Snart, you can sit there all day trying to use your witty banter and charming smile, but I'm not spilling." Leaning in, Daphne let her stern expression slip. "Nothing good will come of it."

"I'd get a chance to punch someone, that's good."

"Then what?"

"Then nothing." Leonard shrugged. "That was basically the plan."

"And if your plan gets Charlie fired?"

"Why would –. " A moment of clarity washed over him, and his eyes narrowed in the direction of the manager's office. He should've known. Like, he really-really, should've known. Diamond's manager was a legendary douchebag. Mouthy, and stupid in a way that made Mick look like a member of MENSA. Worse, the man didn't know his place in their world. He was a bottom feeder, who's only real power came from hurting the woman who worked for him.

"You're a real buzz kill." Draining the remaining liquid, Leonard slammed the bottle down, a sulky frown on his lips.

"Yeah, it really sucks the big one." Taking the empty bottle and tossing it into the trash, Daphne turned back to him. "You've had your beer, and now you need to leave."

With a sigh, Leonard cast one last look toward the office door. Rick the Dick was going to pay, but he needed to find a way to keep the backlash from hurting Charlie. "Thanks for the booze and an enlightening little chat."

XXXXXXXXXX

He arrived back at the Donovan homestead well after six o'clock, and after preparing himself for another round of crazy female hijinks, he came up short when he was greeted by eerie silence. Standing just inside the doorway, having let himself in after a minute of ringing the bell, Leonard didn't like how only the darkness greeted him.

Moving silently through the living room to the kitchen, he took in the two mugs on the kitchen table, but other than that nothing looked out of place. His feet were on the stairs leading down to Charlie's rooms. But just like the rest of the house, the downstairs was dark and empty.

Everything was exactly as they'd left it. The towels she'd used after her shower were in a pile on the bathroom floor, his stuff was still organized in the corner. When he reached Charlie's bedroom the pillow, she'd tossed at him, was by the chair he'd been sitting in. Nothing had changed. Not a damn thing, and that didn't fill him with warm fuzzies.

His feet didn't linger long inside the dark and quiet bedroom and using a quicker pace he made it up to the kitchen and headed to the other staircase, leading to the upper level.

The first room appeared to be an unused guest room, with a perfectly made bed, but lacked any personal items. There was a bathroom with its predictable feminine items, and the next room could only belong to the snotty demon spawn. As he reached the last door, which was slightly ajar, the muscles in the back of his neck knotted. With a steady hand, he pushed the door and stood frozen for a beat of a second. Instinct took over, as his hand went to the light switch.

Blinking against the harsh light, he barely gave the older woman sleeping in the bed any attention, as he rushed over to where Charlie was laying crumpled on the ground, her head resting in a pool of her own blood.