It Came Upon the Midnight Clear
"It's alright, sweetheart." His voice is low and soft as he leans against her kitchen counters, looking haggard and bleeding all over her floors. A meaty, gloved hand holds his side, where the blood is thickest and soaked through his clothing. His chin has dropped to his chest and his breathing is ragged and strained. "I'm not gonna hurt yah."
"Hurt me?" She blanches. "What are you even doing here?! You should've gone to the ER. God, Heatwave, don't you ever think? It's Christmas Eve for crying out loud!" She doesn't bother asking how Mick Rory had broken into her apartment while she'd been finishing her holiday shopping. She'd just walked through her front door, carrying an uneasy pile of boxes and bags when, dim as the lighting was, she spotted a bulking figure in her kitchen.
He doesn't look at her as he chuckles, choosing to keep his eyes closed instead. "I forgot how much you used to hate me."
"Used to hate you?" She practically throws the gifts on the floor and rushes to his side, falling on her knees to eye his injury. She lifts his hand away and raises the stained shirt he wears. "Oh, damn it, Rory" she whines, receiving another soft laugh from Mick's lips. A slash of red runs across his abdomen, oozing blood. She didn't have any anesthesia in her home. She'd have to stitch him as he was. She stands and runs down her hall to snatch her emergency aid bag out of her bathroom.
"This is going to hurt," she warns as she returns to him.
He grunts and watches as Caitlin pulls out her suture kit. "Try not to move," she instructs. The first puncture hurts like hell, but Mick stays still as stone, biting his bottom lip.
"Where are Sara and the rest of the Legends?"
"Sara's dead," he grumbles. "The Legends are dead. Palmer, Heywood, all of 'em. Dead. There's just me, sweetheart." He raises his eyes to meet hers. "Me 'n you."
She stops for a second, eyeing him with furrowed brows. "What?"
"Darlin'," he sighs. "I ain't the Mick you know."
It takes a moment, but then she sees it. The lines in his face, the white hairs in his beard scruff. The tired bags under his eyes. "You're from the future," she whispers.
He grunts but doesn't say anything.
"What happened to them?" She returns to her stitching.
"Everything."
"What does that mean?"
"Kidnapped and shot, thrown from a building, suffocated...everything."
She stops again and meets his eyes. "Did you…?"
"Nah, babe." He gives her a halfhearted smile. "I didn't kill 'em. I escaped and ran like hell."
"Here?"
"Here."
She nods, as if that makes any sense. "And where am I?"
His eyes darken. "They nabbed yah. I'm comin' to find yah."
Caitlin frowns. "So I was kidnapped. Again."
"Don't beat yourself up, sweetheart. They got lucky and snatched yah at the last second."
She chews her lip and ties off the suture, muttering, "Useless, as always."
"You ain't useless, Caitlin." Mick's voice is nearly gruff and he stares at her until she looks up at him. "Hear me? You're one fuckin' helluva woman and those bastards got lucky."
His eyes are intense and Caitlin has to avert her own in order to reassess herself and his wound. Gently, she wipes away blood and wraps bandages around his torso. He winces and breathes heavily but doesn't complain. When she's finished she sits back on her heels and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.
Quietly she asks, "In the future…what are we to each other?"
Mick chuckles again and lifts his left hand, a golden wedding band on his third finger.
Eyes wide with surprise, Caitlin gawks at his hand. She sputters, trying to find words. Mick smirks in amusement and lowers his hand. He shifts his weight and winces at the pain from his wound.
"Here," Caitlin stands and moves to help him up. "My bedroom is just down the hall, you can lay down in there."
He slings a muscled arm around her shoulders and tries to keep as much of his weight off her as possible. "Thank yah, sweetheart," he murmurs. Together they manage to hobble down the hallway and into Caitlin's tidy bedroom. She helps ease Mick on top of her white comforter. He lays back, face twisted in pain.
"I can get some morphine from the hospital for the pain."
"Don't bother," Mick grumbles. "I can manage."
She frowns down at him. "You shouldn't have to." She grabs a blanket from a nearby cushioned chair and drapes it over him. Her room is chilly and keeping him comfortable and calm will only help with the healing. "At least let me have Barry bring some."
Mick watches her and grins at her mothering him. He nods. "Call Allan, be good to see the little shit again."
Before leaving to retrieve her phone, Caitlin shifts uncomfortably and fidgets with the blanket, trying to smooth it out over his legs.
"Ask your questions, Caity."
She flushes at being called out, but meets his eyes and lifts her chin in a false sense of bravery. "We're married in your time. How?"
He smiles at her, genuine and full of adoration. "Kidnapped a preacher and had him say the words in a back alley behind a Fatso Burger."
The look of horror on her face makes him laugh and then wince at the pain. "Don't be mad, it was the best I could do on short notice."
"Why short notice?"
"Well you demanded I marry you right then, or you weren't coming back on the Waverider."
"I threatened you?"
His eyes shine. "Yeah. And it was fucking beautiful."
Caitlin rubs her temples. "How did we -"
"In a year or two, can't remember exactly, Allan and that girl of his are gonna have a wedding. The team and I will be there. I'm not saying pull my cock out right away -"
"Oh my God!"
"- but pay attention. May not seem like, but I'm watchin' yah, darlin'. That's important."
She chews her lip again. "Do I leave with you then?"
"Can't tell yah that."
She sighs, frustrated. "Is there anything else that you can tell me?"
The look he gives her is equal parts fierceness and tenderness. "I love you."
Caitlin flushes, her entire body tingling. "I-I gotta call Barry." She leaves her bedroom in a hurry.
Her purse and its contents lay scattered on the kitchen floor where she had flung them in her haste. Snatching her iPhone, she quickly unlocks the device with the passcode and pulls up Barry's number from the speed dial.
He answers on the second ring. "Hey Caitlin," a yawn. "What's up?"
Rehashing the details of the last forty-five minutes, she ends with a plea to pluck some morphine from Central City hospital and race it to her at her apartment.
"Yeah, yeah sure. I'll be there in a flash." He clicks off with a hint of proud amusement at his own little joke.
Caitlin sighs and sets her phone on the kitchen counter. She rubs her temples again and decides that 12:40am was as good a time as any to have a glass of wine. She had a bottle of Chardonnay needing to be popped and it might as well be right now.
Minutes later, she leans against her bedroom doorway, a drink in hand, and stares at Mick. HIs eyes are closed, but she's certain he isn't sleeping. She takes in the sight of his large body taking up the majority of her full size bed. In the future, they probably shared a king size so as to accommodate Mick's size and Caitlin's need to sleep independently. She wasn't completely against cuddling, but it's hard to fall asleep when someone is entangled with you.
Curious, she wonders out loud: "What's our marriage like?"
One corner of his lips pulls up in a cocky half smile. "You'll have to find out for yourself."
She's about to give him a verbal lashing when her front door knocks. She leaves him to answer, setting her glass of wine down on the way through her kitchen.
Barry stands in his pajamas, hair ruffled and a goofy looking grin on his face. "Hey!" His chirpiness gives her a headache. He holds out a plastic bag with a bottle of morphine, and a needle and syringe. "Here you go."
"Thanks," Caitlin takes the bag.
"I can stay, if you want," Barry offers, trying to peek past her.
She smiles at him, "I appreciate it, but I'm okay. He's down for the night, and this will definitely make sure he stays there."
A twinkle in his eye, Barry nods. "Just give a call if you need anything else."
"Thanks, Barry." She shuts the door after his departure.
When she returns to the bedroom, she's got the shot of morphine measured and ready for administration. Mick is watching her. "How's the kid?"
Caitlin gives a small smile. "He's good. I think he wanted to see you."
Mick snickers, "Nosy little bastard."
"Is he still…in your time do he and Cisco…?"
Her worried look has him softening and speaking gently, "They're alive. Allan's got a couple of kids running around. Ramon runs Star Labs."
"Is he alone?" She can't bear the thought of her best friend isolated in his laboratory.
Mick shrugs, "Wouldn't say alone exactly. He's got a team that works for him and some chick from some other Earth that -"
"Some other Earth?"
He nods, "Don't worry about that now, babe. You got a couple more years of bliss before everything happens."
She frowns at him. "What happens?"
"Can't tell yah. Don't wanna mess with the timeline."
"But -"
"If I do," he cuts her off and holds up his ringed hand. "I don't get this. And I ain't gonna risk losing this."
Caitlin sighs and crosses to his side. She swabs the injection sight with alcohol, and without a word, pricks the needle into the muscle. She slowly pushes the plunger of the syringe, giving the morphine to him. When finished, she gently pulls out the needle and puts a bandage over the puncture.
Stepping back, Caitlin rubs at her neck. She's exhausted; in addition to her regular work day, she had Team Flash duties, and Christmas shopping to finish - one gift being a particularly suggestive gift for Harry that she is now reconsidering even giving to him.
"Come sit, Caity. You look like you're gonna collapse."
The lull of his low rumble is enough to sway her to join him on top of the bed. She sits far enough to the edge of the bed so as to accommodate his larger frame. She sighs, folds her hand neatly in her lap, and sinks into the plush pillows.
"In this future of ours, am I merely a doctor?"
He's quiet and she knows he's trying to decide if the answer she's looking for would be detrimental to the timeline or not. Ultimately, he stays silent.
She wasn't ashamed of her medical profession. But if she were to tell her truth, it would be cool to be a superhero like Barry, or at least able to defend herself like Sara Lance. Literally, anything of physical significance that could take away her inner disappointment at being normal.
"So," she changes the subject. "You're off to find me after this."
"Mmm," he rumbles. He's tipped his head back against his pillow, eyes closed again. The morphine must be peaking in his system. "Leavin' in the mornin'."
Caitlin nods quietly, watching as Mick slowly succumbs to the sleep his pain killers force him under. She doesn't know what to feel, how to respond to this man who is familiar and yet a stranger, what to do with the information he's dropped on her.
Husband. He's her husband in the future. And a damn loyal one it seemed like.
She can feel the weight of a long day pulling at her. Her eyelids droop and the last bit of consciousness she has left is used to reach out and grab his fingertips. Mick gives them a light squeeze before they fall asleep, side by side.
