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Aftermath to 1x15 "Destiny". I'm trying to be careful with warnings and tags so as not to spoil anyone. Not sure how well that worked, but still. SPOILERS.
Title: Drinks On Len
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (2014)
Characters/Pairings: Mick Rory, Lisa Snart. Mick & Len, Lisa & Len, Lisa & Mick, Legends team
Summary: Aftermath to 1x15 "Destiny". Sometime later, when everything's settled and done, Mick goes to have a talk with Lisa
Wordcount: 2272
Warnings/Notes: Episode related, SPOILERS. Family, friendship/love, partnership, repaying debts, team-as-family
Disclaimer: Not mine
Title: Drinks On Len
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (2014)
Characters/Pairings: Mick Rory, Lisa Snart. Mick & Len, Lisa & Len, Lisa & Mick, Legends team
Summary: Aftermath to 1x15 "Destiny". Sometime later, when everything's settled and done, Mick goes to have a talk with Lisa
Wordcount: 2272
Warnings/Notes: Episode related, SPOILERS. Family, friendship/love, partnership, repaying debts, team-as-family
Disclaimer: Not mine
Drinks On Len
Mick tracked her down to a bar in the end. Not one of their usuals, which was why it'd taken him so long. Upscale sorta joint, the kind she'd go to to pick up a coupla wallets and hustle some rich jerks at pool. Casual evening's work, nothing fancy. Kinda thing her and Len woulda done on a slow week just for kicks and drinkin' money.
The thought rippled through him, clenching his hand on the wheel of the truck. He closed his eyes for a second, gripped the thing tight enough to worry about ripping it from the steering column. Took a while for that to pass. Took him a few minutes to work up to going inside. He didn't want to do this. Didn't want to look at her, at the face he'd last seen in Time Master files, a target for his vengeance and everyone else's as well, turning in a bar to smile at him. Didn't want to open his mouth, have to tell her. Didn't want to see the smile fall off her face, wonder if it would ever come back. No. No, he didn't want to do that.
A man had a duty to his partner, though. Especially when that partner had died saving his life. Didn't matter what a man wanted then. He had to do right by his friend.
That was what moved him, in the end. That was what made him get up, let go of the wheel, climb out of the truck. Him and Len had done enough wrongs to each other. Did 'em all, paid for 'em all, then Len had turned all of it around at the end. Went out like that, went out for Mick's sake. Couldn't do him wrong after that.
Wouldn't ever do him wrong again.
He had to stop just inside the door of the bar. Had to stop, had to take her in. A woman he'd wanted to tear apart, just to watch Len's face as he did. A woman Len would have died a hundred times over to keep safe. Mick had to pause at the sight of her. Lisa Snart, dressed in black leather and bronze, holding court up by the bar. All swagger and laughter as she lured the puppies in, suited idiots hanging off her every word, light-fingered and slick as sin. Lenny would have been so proud. He'd have stuck in the shadows and watched her with that tiny, dopey smile on his face. Every breath she took had made her brother so stupidly, ridiculously proud.
Mick might have done that himself. Might have stuck to the shadows, might have stood there for a hour or more. Just watching her, just seeing what Len would've seen, seeing what Len would never see again. He might have stood there all damn night. But Lisa saw him first.
"Mick!" she called, waving over a delighted greeting from the midst of her beaus, seeming honestly happy to see him. Mick clenched his fists, bit his nails into his skin, but made himself move over towards her. Ignored the idiots, the weedy, disgruntled bastards who gave him the stink-eye for having drawn her attention away from them. Mick couldn't give two shits for 'em. He'd have broken every neck in the room to keep from having to do this.
"... Lisa," he said at last, coming to a stop just in front of her, something stiff and helpless in his face, and she caught it. She caught how much was wrong. Mick watched her do it. He saw the second she figured it out, saw the moment the smile slid off her face. He wished with every bone in his body that he was somewhere else. Someone else. He wished for that so bad.
"... Mick?" There was a note of panic in her voice even before he said anything, a hard spark of desperation and denial. She stepped up to him, her eyes wide and peering up into his face, everyone around her abruptly and completely non-existent. She knew. Mick could see she knew, knew that she'd seen it in his face. She asked anyway. Helplessly, desperately. She asked the question anyway. "What is it? What's wrong? What's happened to Len?"
What's happened to Len. Shit. Fucking shit. But he answered anyway, not caring who the fuck might be listening. He had to. Had to do this one last thing for his friend.
"... He took a bullet for me, Lise," he said. Forced it out, all thick and ragged, his hands knotting into careful fists. Watched her face, watched the wide-eyed horror there, the helpless shaking of her head. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm so sorry. He took a bullet for me. He didn't make it."
For a second, there was absolutely nothing in her face. Just for a second there, it went blank and empty as a mask, something you'd see on a doll. She said nothing. She showed nothing. Just for a second, one endless, aching second.
Then it broke. All of it, everything. Her heart. It smashed itself to pieces right in front of him, and Lisa Snart looked away, the tears sliding silently down her face. She looked behind him, out into the shadows by the door, looking for something that wasn't there. Looking for something that was never going to be there again. Looking for pride, looking for love, looking for joy. Finding none of it. Finding nothing. She tried to breathe. He could hear her. He could see the bar lights shining on the tears sliding down her face.
"... Are you sure?" she managed after a second. Her lips pressing together, the knowledge of the answer on her face. Asking anyway. Just in case. Just in case the universe might be kind, just in case it was all a bad joke, just in case he'd got it wrong. Just ... just in case. Mick tipped his head up away from the lights. Tightened his hands until he felt the knuckles start to crack.
"Pretty sure," he said. Nothing else, nothing more. Wasn't able. There'd been no body, there'd been nothing left, but Hunter had seen how Ray was meant to die. Wasn't gonna be a body anyway. As much as he was able to be, Mick was sure. He'd never have come here otherwise.
She knew it too. She knew he wouldn't have come unless he knew it for a fact, knew that if he'd had even a second's doubt that he'd been too busy kicking down doors to come here and make her cry. She shouldn't anymore. She shouldn't have that kind of faith. He'd been ready to kill her not so long ago. He'd betrayed her brother, wanted to murder her just to fuck with him. She shouldn't have any kind of trust in him anymore. But Lisa Snart didn't know that. All she knew was that he was Lenny's oldest friend. All she knew was that he would never have let her brother die if he could help it, and never have told her that he was dead unless it was really true.
"... Who?" she asked. After a minute, after an endless minute, slowly and carefully when she had the breath back to manage it. Her voice was pressed down tight. Not just grief. Not just that. Lisa was a Snart. She wasn't asking that for just no reason. "Mick. Who?"
"They died too," Mick told her. Flat and careful in his turn. "He took 'em with him. Made sure of it. He blew 'em sky high for what they'd done."
To Mick. What they'd done to him. And to Rip, to the team, to all of them. What they'd wanted to do to Ray. Snart had blown them all to hell for it. Wouldn't have said it like that, wouldn't have admitted it in a million years, but it's what he'd done. He'd taken out a threat to his crew. He'd taken out the bastards who'd wanted them dead or tortured or gone. Because Snart was possessive like that. Past a certain point, as soft as he was and always had been, Len just wouldn't take it no more. He'd put a shard through his daddy's heart for what the bastard did to Lisa. He'd put a bomb right through the Vanishing Point for what the Time Masters had done to his crew. Hadn't had a choice, maybe, had done it mostly so Mick or Ray wouldn't have to, but Mick knew that'd been part of it too. Knew that Len had been thinking it as he died, knew that in the midst of the pain and amusement there'd been this spark of satisfied vengeance too.
Didn't make it better. Damn near made it worse, knowing that Len had died so he wouldn't have to, knowing that Len had been satisfied as he did. Made it so much worse, knowing there was no way to pay that back. Knowing, suddenly, what Lisa had felt after Lewis died. Knowing the depth of a debt that wasn't ever gonna be paid.
"... There's no one left to kill, Lise," he rumbled tiredly. Feeling himself slump with it, feeling it pull the strength right out of him. Watching her look up at him, watching that same angry, ragged adoration in her eyes. "I'm sorry. The stupid son of a bitch took care of that himself. Like always. Never did like loose ends. Never liked leaving things to anyone else. No matter how much they might've wanted him to."
Her face screwed up. She shook her head, the tears bubbling bright and plentiful. "Oh god, Len," she said, her chest heaving with the effort to take a breath. No one looked at it. Even the stupid sons of bitches that surrounded them, those that hadn't already hastily left, knew better than to care about her beauty now. This wasn't titillation. This was grief, plain and simple, and this was Lisa Snart. This was a girl who could and would put folks on ice just to make herself feel better. Nobody who'd heard even half this conversation was left in any doubt about that.
And even half of it was too much. Mick figured that, remembered that as he caught the barman drifting towards a phone out of the corner of his eye. This wasn't one of their usual places. Folks round here didn't take too casually to discussions of bullets and explosions and murder. He'd known that, he thought. Known it all along. He'd just had to get this out now. He'd had to say it first, say it before it broke him, and just deal with the consequences later. Whatever and whoever they might be.
"... Let's get out of here, kid," he said quietly, looking back at Lisa after glaring down the barman until the man had sensibly taken his hand off the phone. "Go somewhere with friendlier ears. Go somewhere more Len. Whaddaya say. Reckon we both could use a proper drink."
Lisa sucked in a breath. Closed her eyes, just for half a second, before drawing herself up. Putting her shoulders back, straightening her spine. She fixed her face. Pressed her lips together, dashed the tears calmly and casually off her cheeks. Raised her chin, black leather and bronze, all Snart pride and swagger. Don't let 'em see ya down. Never let the bastards see ya down. Len would've been so fucking proud.
"Sounds like a plan," she said, light and controlled for all the tears lurking in the back of it. "Let's just ... Let's make a stop on 46th, yeah? There's a stash there. Lenny's. I ... I reckon if he's gonna get himself blown sky high, then ... then that drink oughta be on him."
Mick couldn't breathe for a second. It hit him, hit him so fucking hard, rammed in like a fist inside his chest. Nothing, not all the torture and indoctrination the Time Masters had ever thrown at him, had ever hit him so hard. Just this. This kid, this brave, stubborn kid, Lisa Snart with her brother's flash and her brother's broken-hearted smugness in her eyes. Juvie, all over again. That kid on the floor bleeding from a shiv, snarking at him anyway. There was nothing in the whole goddamned fucking universe could kill you like a Snart.
There was nothing in the whole goddamned universe worth anything quite as much.
"... Yeah," he said hoarsely. Looking down at her, looking at the pure fucking spine. Knowing Len was out there somewhere, knowing he was listening, watching, looking at his sister with all that love and that pride in his eyes. All of it, everything he had, never anything less. Len never loved with anything but the whole of his heart. Mick knew that. He remembered. "Yeah, you're right. Bastard has to go and get himself killed, least he owes anybody is a drink. I'm up for that if you are. Just lead the way."
And when they were done, when they'd drunk themselves stupid and raised hell across half of Central City in Len's honour, he'd find them someplace safe to finish up. Someplace safe and good to bring Len's sister, to let her grieve at the end of it. The Professor's place, maybe. He was the closest and the calmest here in Central. He was a stubborn old bastard, but he was team, he was crew, he'd look out for them in Lenny's honour. Maybe their own, too. Mick knew that, trusted it. Yeah, he thought. He'd take Lisa to the Professor's when it was done.
He'd bring her home to Lenny's crew.
Mick tracked her down to a bar in the end. Not one of their usuals, which was why it'd taken him so long. Upscale sorta joint, the kind she'd go to to pick up a coupla wallets and hustle some rich jerks at pool. Casual evening's work, nothing fancy. Kinda thing her and Len woulda done on a slow week just for kicks and drinkin' money.
The thought rippled through him, clenching his hand on the wheel of the truck. He closed his eyes for a second, gripped the thing tight enough to worry about ripping it from the steering column. Took a while for that to pass. Took him a few minutes to work up to going inside. He didn't want to do this. Didn't want to look at her, at the face he'd last seen in Time Master files, a target for his vengeance and everyone else's as well, turning in a bar to smile at him. Didn't want to open his mouth, have to tell her. Didn't want to see the smile fall off her face, wonder if it would ever come back. No. No, he didn't want to do that.
A man had a duty to his partner, though. Especially when that partner had died saving his life. Didn't matter what a man wanted then. He had to do right by his friend.
That was what moved him, in the end. That was what made him get up, let go of the wheel, climb out of the truck. Him and Len had done enough wrongs to each other. Did 'em all, paid for 'em all, then Len had turned all of it around at the end. Went out like that, went out for Mick's sake. Couldn't do him wrong after that.
Wouldn't ever do him wrong again.
He had to stop just inside the door of the bar. Had to stop, had to take her in. A woman he'd wanted to tear apart, just to watch Len's face as he did. A woman Len would have died a hundred times over to keep safe. Mick had to pause at the sight of her. Lisa Snart, dressed in black leather and bronze, holding court up by the bar. All swagger and laughter as she lured the puppies in, suited idiots hanging off her every word, light-fingered and slick as sin. Lenny would have been so proud. He'd have stuck in the shadows and watched her with that tiny, dopey smile on his face. Every breath she took had made her brother so stupidly, ridiculously proud.
Mick might have done that himself. Might have stuck to the shadows, might have stood there for a hour or more. Just watching her, just seeing what Len would've seen, seeing what Len would never see again. He might have stood there all damn night. But Lisa saw him first.
"Mick!" she called, waving over a delighted greeting from the midst of her beaus, seeming honestly happy to see him. Mick clenched his fists, bit his nails into his skin, but made himself move over towards her. Ignored the idiots, the weedy, disgruntled bastards who gave him the stink-eye for having drawn her attention away from them. Mick couldn't give two shits for 'em. He'd have broken every neck in the room to keep from having to do this.
"... Lisa," he said at last, coming to a stop just in front of her, something stiff and helpless in his face, and she caught it. She caught how much was wrong. Mick watched her do it. He saw the second she figured it out, saw the moment the smile slid off her face. He wished with every bone in his body that he was somewhere else. Someone else. He wished for that so bad.
"... Mick?" There was a note of panic in her voice even before he said anything, a hard spark of desperation and denial. She stepped up to him, her eyes wide and peering up into his face, everyone around her abruptly and completely non-existent. She knew. Mick could see she knew, knew that she'd seen it in his face. She asked anyway. Helplessly, desperately. She asked the question anyway. "What is it? What's wrong? What's happened to Len?"
What's happened to Len. Shit. Fucking shit. But he answered anyway, not caring who the fuck might be listening. He had to. Had to do this one last thing for his friend.
"... He took a bullet for me, Lise," he said. Forced it out, all thick and ragged, his hands knotting into careful fists. Watched her face, watched the wide-eyed horror there, the helpless shaking of her head. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm so sorry. He took a bullet for me. He didn't make it."
For a second, there was absolutely nothing in her face. Just for a second there, it went blank and empty as a mask, something you'd see on a doll. She said nothing. She showed nothing. Just for a second, one endless, aching second.
Then it broke. All of it, everything. Her heart. It smashed itself to pieces right in front of him, and Lisa Snart looked away, the tears sliding silently down her face. She looked behind him, out into the shadows by the door, looking for something that wasn't there. Looking for something that was never going to be there again. Looking for pride, looking for love, looking for joy. Finding none of it. Finding nothing. She tried to breathe. He could hear her. He could see the bar lights shining on the tears sliding down her face.
"... Are you sure?" she managed after a second. Her lips pressing together, the knowledge of the answer on her face. Asking anyway. Just in case. Just in case the universe might be kind, just in case it was all a bad joke, just in case he'd got it wrong. Just ... just in case. Mick tipped his head up away from the lights. Tightened his hands until he felt the knuckles start to crack.
"Pretty sure," he said. Nothing else, nothing more. Wasn't able. There'd been no body, there'd been nothing left, but Hunter had seen how Ray was meant to die. Wasn't gonna be a body anyway. As much as he was able to be, Mick was sure. He'd never have come here otherwise.
She knew it too. She knew he wouldn't have come unless he knew it for a fact, knew that if he'd had even a second's doubt that he'd been too busy kicking down doors to come here and make her cry. She shouldn't anymore. She shouldn't have that kind of faith. He'd been ready to kill her not so long ago. He'd betrayed her brother, wanted to murder her just to fuck with him. She shouldn't have any kind of trust in him anymore. But Lisa Snart didn't know that. All she knew was that he was Lenny's oldest friend. All she knew was that he would never have let her brother die if he could help it, and never have told her that he was dead unless it was really true.
"... Who?" she asked. After a minute, after an endless minute, slowly and carefully when she had the breath back to manage it. Her voice was pressed down tight. Not just grief. Not just that. Lisa was a Snart. She wasn't asking that for just no reason. "Mick. Who?"
"They died too," Mick told her. Flat and careful in his turn. "He took 'em with him. Made sure of it. He blew 'em sky high for what they'd done."
To Mick. What they'd done to him. And to Rip, to the team, to all of them. What they'd wanted to do to Ray. Snart had blown them all to hell for it. Wouldn't have said it like that, wouldn't have admitted it in a million years, but it's what he'd done. He'd taken out a threat to his crew. He'd taken out the bastards who'd wanted them dead or tortured or gone. Because Snart was possessive like that. Past a certain point, as soft as he was and always had been, Len just wouldn't take it no more. He'd put a shard through his daddy's heart for what the bastard did to Lisa. He'd put a bomb right through the Vanishing Point for what the Time Masters had done to his crew. Hadn't had a choice, maybe, had done it mostly so Mick or Ray wouldn't have to, but Mick knew that'd been part of it too. Knew that Len had been thinking it as he died, knew that in the midst of the pain and amusement there'd been this spark of satisfied vengeance too.
Didn't make it better. Damn near made it worse, knowing that Len had died so he wouldn't have to, knowing that Len had been satisfied as he did. Made it so much worse, knowing there was no way to pay that back. Knowing, suddenly, what Lisa had felt after Lewis died. Knowing the depth of a debt that wasn't ever gonna be paid.
"... There's no one left to kill, Lise," he rumbled tiredly. Feeling himself slump with it, feeling it pull the strength right out of him. Watching her look up at him, watching that same angry, ragged adoration in her eyes. "I'm sorry. The stupid son of a bitch took care of that himself. Like always. Never did like loose ends. Never liked leaving things to anyone else. No matter how much they might've wanted him to."
Her face screwed up. She shook her head, the tears bubbling bright and plentiful. "Oh god, Len," she said, her chest heaving with the effort to take a breath. No one looked at it. Even the stupid sons of bitches that surrounded them, those that hadn't already hastily left, knew better than to care about her beauty now. This wasn't titillation. This was grief, plain and simple, and this was Lisa Snart. This was a girl who could and would put folks on ice just to make herself feel better. Nobody who'd heard even half this conversation was left in any doubt about that.
And even half of it was too much. Mick figured that, remembered that as he caught the barman drifting towards a phone out of the corner of his eye. This wasn't one of their usual places. Folks round here didn't take too casually to discussions of bullets and explosions and murder. He'd known that, he thought. Known it all along. He'd just had to get this out now. He'd had to say it first, say it before it broke him, and just deal with the consequences later. Whatever and whoever they might be.
"... Let's get out of here, kid," he said quietly, looking back at Lisa after glaring down the barman until the man had sensibly taken his hand off the phone. "Go somewhere with friendlier ears. Go somewhere more Len. Whaddaya say. Reckon we both could use a proper drink."
Lisa sucked in a breath. Closed her eyes, just for half a second, before drawing herself up. Putting her shoulders back, straightening her spine. She fixed her face. Pressed her lips together, dashed the tears calmly and casually off her cheeks. Raised her chin, black leather and bronze, all Snart pride and swagger. Don't let 'em see ya down. Never let the bastards see ya down. Len would've been so fucking proud.
"Sounds like a plan," she said, light and controlled for all the tears lurking in the back of it. "Let's just ... Let's make a stop on 46th, yeah? There's a stash there. Lenny's. I ... I reckon if he's gonna get himself blown sky high, then ... then that drink oughta be on him."
Mick couldn't breathe for a second. It hit him, hit him so fucking hard, rammed in like a fist inside his chest. Nothing, not all the torture and indoctrination the Time Masters had ever thrown at him, had ever hit him so hard. Just this. This kid, this brave, stubborn kid, Lisa Snart with her brother's flash and her brother's broken-hearted smugness in her eyes. Juvie, all over again. That kid on the floor bleeding from a shiv, snarking at him anyway. There was nothing in the whole goddamned fucking universe could kill you like a Snart.
There was nothing in the whole goddamned universe worth anything quite as much.
"... Yeah," he said hoarsely. Looking down at her, looking at the pure fucking spine. Knowing Len was out there somewhere, knowing he was listening, watching, looking at his sister with all that love and that pride in his eyes. All of it, everything he had, never anything less. Len never loved with anything but the whole of his heart. Mick knew that. He remembered. "Yeah, you're right. Bastard has to go and get himself killed, least he owes anybody is a drink. I'm up for that if you are. Just lead the way."
And when they were done, when they'd drunk themselves stupid and raised hell across half of Central City in Len's honour, he'd find them someplace safe to finish up. Someplace safe and good to bring Len's sister, to let her grieve at the end of it. The Professor's place, maybe. He was the closest and the calmest here in Central. He was a stubborn old bastard, but he was team, he was crew, he'd look out for them in Lenny's honour. Maybe their own, too. Mick knew that, trusted it. Yeah, he thought. He'd take Lisa to the Professor's when it was done.
He'd bring her home to Lenny's crew.
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