It made sense to talk to the rest of the team, Mick figured. If only so he could work out who was most likely to turn on him first. Then the rest of the team - the youngest member of it, anyway - decided to get a jump on the meet and greet.

Jax was waiting outside the cargo bay as Mick left; at least he'd had the sense to make himself obvious. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, like he was ready to go long. "Listen. You know I'm, we're, glad you're not dead, right? Snart told us - let us think - you were, but it's not like we were dancing in the streets about it."

And apparently he wasn't going to just say his piece and go. In the face of Mick's silence and unblinking stare, he planted his feet, folded his arms and raised his chin - quarterback to linebacker. Stupid. Brave.

Kids.

"None of us asked questions," Jax admitted, like he was ashamed or something. "We just let him go ahead. That wasn't right. You should know, though, I told Snart I understood why he'd done it. I mean, when I thought he'd done it. That he was looking out for the team. I guess he was trying to look out for you too."

"Where are you going with this?" Mick asked at last, because 'mixed messages' didn't cover it.

"It's kind of like when my mom and dad used to fight, only I never worried about one of them killing me while I slept. Except for the whole thing with the house party my senior year. That got tense. Little bit … murder-ey."

"So this isn't an apology," Mick said. "It's self-preservation." Understandable, but unnecessary. The kid was a hero and there was a natural law: you might like them well enough, but heroes couldn't be trusted and anyone who did was a fool. He'd known that going in.

His problem was always with Snart. And maybe Hunter. Fine, definitely Hunter. But, then, Hunter was no hero.

"No, it's - I'm trying to say I like you guys." Now Jax definitely looked faintly guilty and his shoulders slumped. "You and Snart. I know you've both done horrible things, but Chronos aside, you looked out for me. I didn't want you dead, but I didn't want Snart to think I hated him either.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you. And for not hating either of you as much as I probably should." He stared down the corridor in a moment of unfocused reflection. "Man, this must be what Ray feels like the whole time."

Nice sentiment, but what did the kid think he could have done against the others anyway?

"Something," Jax said. "I could have done something."

Mick hadn't meant to say that aloud; Jax didn't seem to notice.

"And next time, I swear I will. I don't know where all this goes from here, but history is not going to repeat itself. Pun intended, but if it helps, I'm regretting it and may never be clean."

"I'm not going to kill you in your sleep, kid," Mick said, but Jax didn't look that reassured. He tried again. "Next time we're on opposite sides, you'll see me coming and you'll be armed."

Jax's eyes widened, then narrowed thoughtfully. After a long moment, he nodded. "That's actually weirdly comforting. I'll take it."

Heartwarming.

Mick started for the elevator, but Jax stopped him with a hand to the shoulder, quickly snatched away. "Wait, there was something I wanted to ask you."

"So this isn't an apology, or self-preservation," Mick growled. "It's a favor?"

"It's an invitation," Jax corrected. "We're starting a game night. Kendra and Ray got into these old board games back in the fifties and it turns out Gray's into poker and Rip likes chess. It's just a way to unwind. And you're welcome to join us. I asked Snart too, but he just stared at me.

"Yeah, it's kind of lame, I guess," he said weakly into Mick's silence. "Look, forget about it. I just wanted to-"

"The fifties, huh?" Mick canted his head. Hadn't considered what they'd been up to while he'd been … gone. "All of you?"

The good-natured glint in Jax's eyes dulled; he nodded. "Couple days for me, couple years for Sara, Ray and Kendra. No one blames you for that."

"Sure they don't. Must've been rough. For Kendra." He studied Jax's expression. "Guessing it wasn't a picnic for you either."

Jax's smile hardened; he didn't comment. Mick tried to see any trace of resentment or anger, but found none. If it was him - the old him - he'd have lit up the town if anyone even thought about looking at him the way he knew they'd been looking at Jax. Kendra.

The new him didn't care. Not about himself, and sure as hell not about a stupid kid determined to save people whether they deserved it or not.

"Board games," Mick said.

"And poker. And chess." Jax smirked. "And Sara's bringing vodka."

"Should've led with that."

This time Mick stopped Jax as he turned away. "Occurs to me, there's not much point in you being armed if you don't know how to fight."

"You just want an excuse to beat on me." He looked wary. Good.

"Don't need one."

"Yeah," Jax agreed, grinning like he won something more than a daily world of hurt. "Okay."