Okay, here comes part 2 of the latest chapter... Hope it casts some light on the question you all seemed to be asking after part 1...

Thank you all so much for the comments!

And...

Hope you enjoy it!

Mick grimaced and stepped closer.

That other thing… Right…
Fuck…

It was a long time since the last time it had happened, but that didn't mean much now…

"Suppose you've been stuck here for a while…" Mick thought out loud, Len wasn't a champion when it came to asking for help. Rather the opposite, he would ask when he saw no other way out…

Len sniffled and gave Mick a short nod.

Mick winced and pulled up a chair next to Len's bed. He cast a quick glance at the brace and the angry, red scar tissue. It reminded him of times when his burns had been healing. Red, new and fragile skin.

He looked back at Len's face. His eyes were puffy, like he'd been crying for some time. He probably had.

"Care to tell me?" Mick questioned, "Or do I have to play 20 questions with you?"

Leonard shook his head, but didn't answer either.

LOTLOTLOT

They sat there in silence for almost ten minutes, as Leonard tried to calm down enough to speak in full sentences again.

Mick sat on the chair beside Len's bed, and felt as helpless as he always did when these things happened.

Len pulled a deep breath, before he finally spoke up.

"I got to thinking about all this…" he gestured towards his still healing leg, "… And about the future…"

Mick nodded knowingly, he had found the missing piece of the puzzle.

"So… You've been thinking about how everything will be once you've healed?" he offered, knowing that it wasn't exactly what had been bothering Len.

Len shook his head, but looked up at Mick.

"Fearing an early retirement?" Mick bit his lip, he didn't have to see Leonard to know that he would nod at that.

He did.

"Okay… Tell me all about it…" he offered a smile, "But first, I'm either going to crawl into your bed and steal your covers, or you will have to turn up the heat in here…"

A smile almost made it to Len's lips.

"Some of us actually freeze, and 59 degrees Fahrenheit is a bit chilly for us…"

Len gathered the fabric and tossed it towards Mick, who got up and climbed up in the bed. He got himself arranged, sitting next to Leonard with the covers wrapped around him.

"It's actually 63 in here…" Len corrected, as he wiped away a few tears and some snot.

"Could have fooled me… I can't believe you're not freezing your ass off, sitting there in just those…" he nodded towards the blue boxer briefs Len wore.

Len ignored it, instead he just looked at his still shaking hands.

"Now, what's got you spooked to think of an early retirement?" Mick asked when he understood Len wouldn't start talking by himself.

Len shrugged and stretched out an arm to touch the new scars.

"I feel like… I'm… I'm stuck…" he sniffled and let his fingers trace the scars running over his knee.

"Well, you're not as stuck now as when we were in Wisconsin…" Mick reasoned, as vivid pictures danced in his head.

Len chuckled, he couldn't help it.

"Not physically stuck!" he pointed out as his eyes flickered to a collection of scars around his ankle.

"Good, because rusty old bear traps are not to be joked with…"

Len gave Mick a half-hearted shove, but a smirk flickered across his face.

"I've learned that lesson, okay?"

"Just wanted to make sure you remembered it…"

"How could I forget?"

Mick shrugged inside the covers.

"Took two months for you to walk again then… A little more before those wounds closed up okay…"

Len pulled his left leg up to himself, his head resting on his knee.

"That was two months…" he paused, willing his voice to stop trembling, "It's been almost four months… I still can't walk… Not properly…"

Mick angled his head towards Len.

"You can't walk properly because you had to stay off your leg completely for three months…" Mick said it as if it was the absolutely only reason there could be, "Your muscles and whatever is inside your knee isn't used to being stretched and compressed all the time, and it's gonna take some time before you're running around…"

"If I'll ever run again…" Len added a bit more somberly.

"'Course you will…" Mick said and bumped Len's shoulder, "If there is anyone on this ship who can make incredible comebacks, it's you!"

"You're lying!"

"Why would I?" Mick asked, "Remember, that knee was screwed before… You've fought against many people with it hanging together with something resembling the force of bubble gum and hope… You've even taken down a few fellas with a knee threatening to dislocate at any given moment…"

Len shrugged.

"Heck, you won over me while sparring a few more times than I'd like to admit…" Mick confessed, "And I didn't even have any excuses for it…"

Len smiled, "Totally kicked your ass a couple of times…"

Mick chuckled. Len's smart mouth was starting to return, a good sign…

They fell silent again, and the minutes passed.

LOTLOTLOT

"I hate this! Because for once in my life, I've found something which is nice, and I'm good at, and then I get shot and my leg is a mess and I can't walk and…"

"Could you please take a breath, before you turn blue?" Mick asked with one raised eyebrow.

Leonard stopped and filled his lungs with the cold air of the room. His shoulders slumped down as he exhaled. He relaxed a bit more.

"And I can't walk, and I'm afraid that I won't be able to keep up with the team once I get cleared by Gideon for missions… If I get cleared for missions at all…" Len sighed. "What if I don't make a full recovery? What if I become useless? What if I get kicked off the team?"

Mick rolled his eyes theatrically. "You won't be useless… Ever! You know that?"

Len's blank stare made Mick continue.

"So what if you might not be able to take down anyone in hand to hand combat? It's not the end of the freaking world!" Mick said and re-adjusted himself on the bed. "You're smarter than the most of us, smarter than most people in general… You're a good shot and know how to plan things… You would probably do a better job than Rip at that…"

Len gave a short laugh, as the dark clouds inside his mind started to dissolve.

"You have already proven that you can take light-weight missions… And no one would ever kick you off the team!"

"How can you be so sure? I'm gimp, and basically dead weight!"

"Because the one kicking you off the team would have to answer to both me and Sara."

Len smiled.

"Thank you!"

"Don't mention it, you're important you know…" Mick declared, "It would never be the same here without you…"

They continued to sit there and talk for hours.

LOTLOTLOT

"So… How are you doing?" Mick asked as he fought to keep his eyes open. He still had Len's covers wrapped around himself, sometime during the last three hours Len had asked him to find a blanket for him too.

Len yawned.

"Still a bit out of it…"

"Anxiety sucks…"

Len nodded, "I thought I had control… I thought it was a thing of the past… I'm sorry I bothered you…"

Mick smiled kindly towards his best friend.

"Look, it's not your fault… Honestly, I think you're doing good. Most of us would have broken down a long time ago…"

"I feel stupid for having to wake you up…" Len stared down at where the blanket he had over himself, hugged his knee brace. "I should be strong enough to deal with this on my own…"

Mick shook his head.

"No. You shouldn't!" he said with a firm voice. "No one should have to suffer alone…"

"But you were sleeping…"

"I'll promise to take a nap after dinner… Okay?"

Len chuckled.

"Look, next time it could be me…"

"But you don't have anxiety attacks…"

Mick sighed, "No… But you damn well know my issues…"

Len nodded slowly, of course he knew…

"And that ain't pretty…"

"But it's not your fault…" Len automatically reasoned.

"And this is not your fault…" Mick added.

LOTLOTLOT

A few minutes later, Len laid down and pulled his blanket a little closer.

"Thanks…"

Mick stood up and looked down at Len. "Don't worry about it… I'm glad you trust me…"

Mick placed the covers back on the bed and turned to head back to his room.

"Please stay…" a tired voice spoke up behind him, and he stopped.

"Huh?"

"Please stay…" Len repeated, "In case I get another attack…"

Mick nodded. "Of course…"

He grabbed the covers again, and headed for the couch across the room.

"Thank you…"

"No problem, buddy…"

Okay... I hope I didn't mess up as badly as I somehow feel I did...

Vulnerable Snart... Got to throw it in the mix every now and then, right?

Hope you enjoyed!

Q: Should I make a chap where Snart repays the favor? Not necessarily as the next chapter, but in a chapter or two?

Q2: If you, some time in the future figured I was about to publish a book... Would you be interrested in reading it? Of course it would be a lot different, because you can't torture your characters in original work as much as in fanfiction... But the writing style would be similar, and the characters would of course have some traits which resembled some of my fave characters...
It would probably be some kind of action or mystery story... Kind of young adult Jason Bourne meets young adult Jack Reacher, topped with a bit of Dean Winchester issues and so on...
+ the story would be edited... Which would mean less grammar mishaps, not as many plotholes and a smoother story in general...