Fic: To Carry (LoT, Len/Mick)
Title: To Carry
Fandom: DC's Legends of Tomorrow
Pairing: Mick/Len
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with DC. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: M
Summary:Post "Star City 2046" Fix it fic. Mick know he's not a hero and he's not sure he wants to change.
A/N: Small mention of the possibility of Ray/Mick/Len and if I add onto this fic that's likely the direction this will go, but the focus of this fic is Mick trying to fix him and Len. I used some of Mick's comic book back story in this.
To Carry:
As he watches his beautiful burning city fade Mick finds himself wondering how he’d gotten back onto the ship after Len knocked him out. He’s been the one to carry their teammates onto the ship when the need arose, so who carried him? He sits with Ray, not ready to be near Len, not sure he can forgive, not even sure he wants to. Then he takes Len in, the tension he’s carrying in his shoulders, despite the impassiveness of his face. Mick quells down the want to get up and drag Len away, to hash out their differences. Wouldn’t matter, Mick tells himself, either way Len is going to have a rough night.
Sara bumps him, once Rip says they’re safe. The last time they were in the time vortex it didn’t end safely, but Mick not ready to point that out. Instead he meets Sara’s eyes, waits for her to break the silence.
“Fix this,” she glares.
“I’m not the one who broke us,” Mick grumbles back, careful to have his tone low enough it shouldn’t resonate to more than the two of them and possibly Ray. He forces himself to not break eye contact with Sara, not ready to see if Ray heard
Ray, for his part, doesn’t comment.
“Got told to wait,” Mick reminds, loud enough to know he’s being heard. “Did you or the Captain ever wonder if we were still there or were you just grateful when we showed up?”
She doesn’t back down, but Mick catches Rip shifting uncomfortably.
He waits for Len to add in a snarky comment, but it doesn’t come. Mick’s gaze shifts over. Len is leaning back in his seat eyes closed. To an outsider he’s the picture of content, but Mick can make out the tension in his shoulders and it’s always worse when Len isn’t drawling out their demands.
“Fix this,” Sara hisses at him again. Mick glances back at Ray, takes in his still healing face and pushes down the concern it raises in him. He can only deal with one crisis at a time and it’s going to take more concession than he’s sure he wants to give for him and Len to find their way back to each other.
“Not anyone’s lap dog, remember that the next time you decide I should assist with a mission,” Mick glares at Rip. “I don’t just sit and stay.”
“I never thought that you did,” Rip comments as he attempts to hold his gaze. Rip back off first, moving from the room. Mick follows. He doesn’t stop when Ray protests, he turns back to glance at Len, to see if there’ll be a protest he’ll consider listening to, but Len doesn’t open his eyes. He turns away and catches up to Rip. “Did you need something Mister Rory?”
“Yeah,” Mick decides. “The next stop won’t be related to the mission.”
Rip turns on him glaring, opening his mouth to protest.
“We need a break,” Mick interjects before Rip can get a word out.
The bluster in his posture falters and Rip frowns at him briefly before shaking his head, “We don’t have time. We’re being hunted by…”
“I don’t need any of your useless protests,” Mick interrupts. “Either we get a break or you’re taking Snart and me back to 2016.”
“Does Mister Snart know about this?” Rip attempts to distract. When Mick’s response is to glare Rip continues, “Either way you didn’t come along for a vacation.”
“None of use came along to die," Mick points out. "Kendra's grieving. Ray's still healing, which will slow him down. Your professor roofied the kid he shares a body with. I don't know if they've hashed that out, but do you really want to wait till we're in the middle of life and death to find out?”
He doesn’t mention himself. He’s healing from that gulag too. He’s still on edge, enough that the recent argument with Len might…he needs a moment to breathe, they all do.
“Careful Mister Rory, it almost sounds like you care.”
“Don't, but you're the Captain. We're supposed to be your crew, which means we're supposed to be more than disposable pawns.”
“I doubt you play chess.”
Mick leans in, smirks slightly as he admits, “I don't. I do know you aren't playing well.”
Rip glares at him.
“You afraid if you stop and think about this mission that you'll talk yourself out of it?” Mick pushes.
“No.”
“Then giving us a few days to rest won't hurt you.”
“And if I don't?”
“You take us back to 2016 and change me out for Lisa.”
Rip gives him a sigh of frustration.
“Then you picked the wrong support.”
“I don't follow,” Rip admits.
“Not stupid. You wanted Snart, I just happened to be with him.”
“That's not...”
“It is,” Mick interrupts. "Legends. Heroes. You got into his head, even though we know it's a lie. You got in all their heads, except I don't care.”
“You don't sound like you don't care.” Rip challenges.
Mick smirks, crowds in close and growls out his words. “You showed us your future and they all want to help, even Snart. Your future scared them, horrified them, but me, I could've stood there all day watching your world burn. I don't think you appreciate how beautiful it was.”
He pulls away, steps back, let Rip see that he's not lying. Then he shakes his head and attempts to clarify, “Or will be?”
Rip’s eyes dart over him, accessing. “Are you trying to intimidate me Mister Rory?”
Mick leans against the wall and regards Rip, waits a moment for Rip to trip over his own words and give him what he wants. Instead Rip glares. Mick snorts, then reminds him, “If I wanted to intimidate, you'd already be on the floor. I really do want to knock your teeth in. It might even make me feel better.”
“Do you want me to take you back? If that Star City still exists when this is over, do you want to go back?”
Mick wets his lips. He wants, but if he accepts then he and Len are over, no going back. He's not sure he's ready to forgive yet, but he's not ready to walk away either. He answers truthfully, “Can’t answer that yet.”
Rip sighs, shoulder slumping. “I haven’t decided our next move yet. I suppose a few days of rest could do everyone some good.”
“I want a beach, some place warm.”
Rip shakes his head with a small reluctant smile. “I’ll see what I can find.”
Mick pushes off the wall with a nod and heads back to the bridge. As much as he’s not sure he’s prepared for the conversation, hasn’t really decided which direction he wants it to go, he and Len need to talk. He only finds Ray and Sara in the middle of a conversation. Sara glares when he walks in. Ray brightens, smiles, and offers, “I think he went to his room.”
He pauses to look Ray over, wonder for a moment about optimism and what it must be like to be that good inside. His family would probably still be alive. Mick shakes his head, because he’s not going down that line of thought. Instead he turns his gaze to Sara and muses, “Heroes. You think he’d taste like sunshine?”
Sara glances down at Ray, who just laughs and is still smiling at him.
“Not my type,” Sara answers. “Though I’m not sure that’s what constant optimism tastes like. Why? You want to find out?”
It’s on the tip of Mick’s tongue to drawl out that he already has a partner, but the two of them have never been strictly monogamous, and they’ve both been eying Ray. Mick shrugs instead. “Haven’t decided yet. Talked the captain into a break.”
“That sounds good,” Ray sighs, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair.
Mick frowns. Ray’s been trying to act as though he’s recovering from their time in the gulag quickly, trying to play off the stiffness of his movements as nothing, even though they all know he’s still healing. Mick tries to quell down the need to strip Ray down and run hands over him, seek out the aches and to know how truly hurt he is. Man took a beating for him, but it’s not his place to care, not yet. With a growl Mick announces he’s going to find Len and turns to go.
“Are you fixing this?” Sara calls after him. He waves her off.
He’s not sure how he’s going to react, is trying to work himself down to calm, as he heads for Len’s room. As he knocks he finds himself grateful that they’d turned down Rip’s offer of a shared room, sometimes either one of them need their own space. Especially now, when Mick feels the need to knock and Len opens the door looking brittle.
“Thought this take longer,” Len drawls out.
They could argue. They could have an explosive argument right now, pull the rest of the crew into it even. Mick quells the impulse as he holds out his hand, “Need my meds.”
Len stills, eyes roaming over him slowly. Mick carefully doesn’t change his posture and doesn’t know where they stand until Len takes one step back and turns on his heel. Mick feels his shoulders relax minutely. If Len’s comfortable enough to turn his back then maybe they’ll get through this.
Mick watches Len’s face as he drops the pills into his waiting palm. Mick brings them to his mouth before taking the bottle of water Len’s offering. His eyes stay don’t leave Len’s. As Len takes a step back Mick realizes he’s not ready to lose this, not ready to give up the years between them. The city, that once perfect city, isn’t worth losing Len, isn’t worth the gamble of losing their lives.
“You take yours?”
“Still going to have nightmares.” Len shrugs, before he shakes his head. “I knock you out and drag you back on board this ship. I take you away from your dream life and you’re worried about my med.”
Mick huffs out an acknowledgement then says, “Habit. You keep track of my meds and I remind you to take yours.”
“Bad habit?”
Mick frowns not sure if Len means himself or the medicine. Mick shakes his head and goes for honest with both, “I’m not so lost anymore. Was it bad Lenny? How far gone was I? It was beautiful. I wanted it.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Mick’s eyes snap up to meet Len’s. “Don’t.”
“I should, shouldn’t I? That’s what you want?”
Mick frowns. “How far gone?”
“They are your friends Mick, and I had to talk you into helping. Maybe not Rip yet, but Sara?” Len starts, then sighs and points out, “You would’ve let me leave Palmer in that prison with his shrunken suit if you hadn’t started to care.”
Mick frowns, looks away. “Got distracted. He took a beating.”
Len stills, watches him closely, and Mick wonders what’s showing on his face. He’s not good about keeping his appetites in check, he usually has Len for that. He usually lets Len step in for that.
“Just how many beatings did Palmer take?”
“More than I should’ve allowed. He’s too Pollyanna to have realized he should’ve stuck close and let me protect him.”
“Maybe make yourself clear next time. Ray, you’re gonna pretend your mine and I’ll keep you from getting beat or worse.”
“He’s that thing where he’s too smart, but can’t tell when someone’s going to hurt him.”
“Booksmart versus streetsmart. Why are we debating Palmer?”
“Ray,” Mick corrects.
“Fine Ray, why are we debating Ray?”
“We’re talking, ain’t we?” Mick points out.
Len’s lips quirk upward. “Clever.”
Mick shrugs.
For a brief moment Len’s shoulders go back and Mick can almost feel the snarky comment brimming. It would lead to a joke, they would laugh and nothing would really be said. They could work together, pretend there isn’t this growing chasm between them. They could continue to circle each other until one of them snapped, it’d probably be him. Mick knows himself well enough to know it’d be him. And yet, Mick isn’t ready to throw away the trust the years between them have built, he’s not ready to go back to only being able to trust himself, not when he knows he can’t really ever trust himself.
He’s not sure how to fix this.
Mick gives a huff of frustration. He watches the bravado slide from Len’s shoulders. They’re at an impasse. How do they move forward? He wants to tell Len it’s his move because Len is the one who plans, always has multiple contingency plans.
Len’s eyes rove over him, eventually focusing on his head, the spot where he’d hit Mick. Mick reaches for him, takes Len’s hand slowly, and brings it up to that spot and despite the soreness forces himself not to flinch at the touch as he points out, “There isn’t even a bruise.”
Len looks away and down, voice distant, “Those are the ones that hurt the most. The ones you can’t see.”
Mick pushes into the room, shuts the door behind him and leans against it as he watches Len. He’s not having this conversation standing in the middle of the hallway. “Are you getting lost?”
Len hums a considering noise and for a brief moment Mick feels panic well in him. Len doesn’t get lost in his past often, but when he does it’s bad. Mick wishes Lisa had come on this trip instead of him, she knows how to pull Len out of himself when he gets like this. She says he’s good at it too, but Mick is never sure he hasn’t hurt Len more.
Len shakes his head slowly. “I’m here.”
Mick swears.
Len raises his eyebrows, then frowns and flexes his fingers against Mick’s face. Mick cups his hands, forces himself to remain still. Len wets his lips, swears, and then their kissing. It’s heated and harsh. They cross over to the bed quickly, Mick losing his shirt along the way. Len pulls back when his knees hit the bed, and he breathes out a slow breath, as he eyes search Mick’s face. “Should I have left you there? Is that what you wanted?”
“There are two Green Arrows now,” Mick concedes. “You weren’t happy. In that world, I don’t know how we’d have found your sister.”
“Lisa was dead,” Len bites out, the words coming out slow and rough.
Mick rests his forehead against Len’s. “You didn’t say.”
“You were too far gone.”
“I knew you were miserable, but I…Len,” Mick closes his eyes and breathes out. He’s going to have to be the one to bend here and he’s not used to bending, not when Len normally comes up with the compromises between them. Mick wets his lips. “You’re my partner. You’re my family. You and Lisa are the only family I have left, the only ones who I can trust to survive if I lose myself again. You survived last time and I almost didn’t.”
Len kisses him. Mick isn’t sure if it’s because he can’t take the words or can’t take anymore words. It’s brief and then Len’s watching him, waiting for him to continue.
Mick isn’t sure he has the words. This team, they’re too new. “Come on, Len. Please.”
“Not even Ray? You’re on a first name basis with him, made sure he wouldn’t feel left behind, and had vodka to wake up to.”
“I destroy my families. Burn them.”
Len cups his face, tilts Mick’s head till their eyes meet and reminds him, “Two members of this crew are already burning.”
Mick breathes out a low chuckle, “Yeah, but heros? I told you, I ain’t a hero.”
Len watches him silently, with that look of longing and conflict that’s been there for too long.
“I don’t know whose teeth I want to kick in more: that speedster or the captain,” Mick growls clenching his fists. He wants to hit someone for confusing Len like this. Len runs soothing hands down his chest and Mick leans into the touch, fists loosening as he admits, “I don’t have it in me to be a hero.”
Len leans in, presses a kiss to his jaw, and asks, “You think I do?”
“I think you want it. I think you both do,” Mick answers truthfully, knowing Len will understand he means Lisa too. He leans back and blows out a slow breath. He’s not ready to let go. He’s not ready to lose Len again. He crowds close, buries his face against Len’s shoulder and breaths in as he admits, “We were done. You said we were done and I…you brought me back in. You knew I wouldn’t say no. Not to being your partner again, not to that gun.”
“Heatwave,” Len drawls.
Mick hums his acknowledgement of the name before pressing a kiss to Len’s neck.
Len’s arms wrap around him tightly, “Mick?”
“Yeah, boss?” he tries.
His words earn him the smile he was going for.
“Partner,” Len corrects.
“You like being the boss.”
“I do, most of the time.”
Mick rocks forward at the heat behind Len’s words, at the look Len gives him. They can be done talking, they can distract each other and not be talking about the serious things that make Mick head hurt. He can do feelings, he just doesn’t like to discuss them. Still there’s more to hash out and Mick doesn’t want them to break.
“Talked the captain into a vacation,” Mick starts.
“Did you?”
“I said I wanted a beach. We’ll see what we get.” Mick grumbles.
Len shifts back just slightly, enough to get a good look at him, but not enough that their not still intertwined around each other. “What do you want me to talk to him about?”
“He needs to include you more, in the planning. He doesn’t count everything down to the second like you,” Mick points out.
“You’re saying he’s not as good?”
“I’m saying the plans would be better if he’d work with you, if he knew to listen more. Kendra won’t kill Savage if we don’t have the right plan, she’ll get kill instead, and then where will we be?”
“I think you mean when,” Len drawls out, teasing.
Mick smirks.
“Fine, I’ll talk to him.”
Mick nods.
“We done making up?”
Mick pulls him into a kiss. He’s done with words for now.
Fandom: DC's Legends of Tomorrow
Pairing: Mick/Len
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with DC. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: M
Summary:Post "Star City 2046" Fix it fic. Mick know he's not a hero and he's not sure he wants to change.
A/N: Small mention of the possibility of Ray/Mick/Len and if I add onto this fic that's likely the direction this will go, but the focus of this fic is Mick trying to fix him and Len. I used some of Mick's comic book back story in this.
To Carry:
As he watches his beautiful burning city fade Mick finds himself wondering how he’d gotten back onto the ship after Len knocked him out. He’s been the one to carry their teammates onto the ship when the need arose, so who carried him? He sits with Ray, not ready to be near Len, not sure he can forgive, not even sure he wants to. Then he takes Len in, the tension he’s carrying in his shoulders, despite the impassiveness of his face. Mick quells down the want to get up and drag Len away, to hash out their differences. Wouldn’t matter, Mick tells himself, either way Len is going to have a rough night.
Sara bumps him, once Rip says they’re safe. The last time they were in the time vortex it didn’t end safely, but Mick not ready to point that out. Instead he meets Sara’s eyes, waits for her to break the silence.
“Fix this,” she glares.
“I’m not the one who broke us,” Mick grumbles back, careful to have his tone low enough it shouldn’t resonate to more than the two of them and possibly Ray. He forces himself to not break eye contact with Sara, not ready to see if Ray heard
Ray, for his part, doesn’t comment.
“Got told to wait,” Mick reminds, loud enough to know he’s being heard. “Did you or the Captain ever wonder if we were still there or were you just grateful when we showed up?”
She doesn’t back down, but Mick catches Rip shifting uncomfortably.
He waits for Len to add in a snarky comment, but it doesn’t come. Mick’s gaze shifts over. Len is leaning back in his seat eyes closed. To an outsider he’s the picture of content, but Mick can make out the tension in his shoulders and it’s always worse when Len isn’t drawling out their demands.
“Fix this,” Sara hisses at him again. Mick glances back at Ray, takes in his still healing face and pushes down the concern it raises in him. He can only deal with one crisis at a time and it’s going to take more concession than he’s sure he wants to give for him and Len to find their way back to each other.
“Not anyone’s lap dog, remember that the next time you decide I should assist with a mission,” Mick glares at Rip. “I don’t just sit and stay.”
“I never thought that you did,” Rip comments as he attempts to hold his gaze. Rip back off first, moving from the room. Mick follows. He doesn’t stop when Ray protests, he turns back to glance at Len, to see if there’ll be a protest he’ll consider listening to, but Len doesn’t open his eyes. He turns away and catches up to Rip. “Did you need something Mister Rory?”
“Yeah,” Mick decides. “The next stop won’t be related to the mission.”
Rip turns on him glaring, opening his mouth to protest.
“We need a break,” Mick interjects before Rip can get a word out.
The bluster in his posture falters and Rip frowns at him briefly before shaking his head, “We don’t have time. We’re being hunted by…”
“I don’t need any of your useless protests,” Mick interrupts. “Either we get a break or you’re taking Snart and me back to 2016.”
“Does Mister Snart know about this?” Rip attempts to distract. When Mick’s response is to glare Rip continues, “Either way you didn’t come along for a vacation.”
“None of use came along to die," Mick points out. "Kendra's grieving. Ray's still healing, which will slow him down. Your professor roofied the kid he shares a body with. I don't know if they've hashed that out, but do you really want to wait till we're in the middle of life and death to find out?”
He doesn’t mention himself. He’s healing from that gulag too. He’s still on edge, enough that the recent argument with Len might…he needs a moment to breathe, they all do.
“Careful Mister Rory, it almost sounds like you care.”
“Don't, but you're the Captain. We're supposed to be your crew, which means we're supposed to be more than disposable pawns.”
“I doubt you play chess.”
Mick leans in, smirks slightly as he admits, “I don't. I do know you aren't playing well.”
Rip glares at him.
“You afraid if you stop and think about this mission that you'll talk yourself out of it?” Mick pushes.
“No.”
“Then giving us a few days to rest won't hurt you.”
“And if I don't?”
“You take us back to 2016 and change me out for Lisa.”
Rip gives him a sigh of frustration.
“Then you picked the wrong support.”
“I don't follow,” Rip admits.
“Not stupid. You wanted Snart, I just happened to be with him.”
“That's not...”
“It is,” Mick interrupts. "Legends. Heroes. You got into his head, even though we know it's a lie. You got in all their heads, except I don't care.”
“You don't sound like you don't care.” Rip challenges.
Mick smirks, crowds in close and growls out his words. “You showed us your future and they all want to help, even Snart. Your future scared them, horrified them, but me, I could've stood there all day watching your world burn. I don't think you appreciate how beautiful it was.”
He pulls away, steps back, let Rip see that he's not lying. Then he shakes his head and attempts to clarify, “Or will be?”
Rip’s eyes dart over him, accessing. “Are you trying to intimidate me Mister Rory?”
Mick leans against the wall and regards Rip, waits a moment for Rip to trip over his own words and give him what he wants. Instead Rip glares. Mick snorts, then reminds him, “If I wanted to intimidate, you'd already be on the floor. I really do want to knock your teeth in. It might even make me feel better.”
“Do you want me to take you back? If that Star City still exists when this is over, do you want to go back?”
Mick wets his lips. He wants, but if he accepts then he and Len are over, no going back. He's not sure he's ready to forgive yet, but he's not ready to walk away either. He answers truthfully, “Can’t answer that yet.”
Rip sighs, shoulder slumping. “I haven’t decided our next move yet. I suppose a few days of rest could do everyone some good.”
“I want a beach, some place warm.”
Rip shakes his head with a small reluctant smile. “I’ll see what I can find.”
Mick pushes off the wall with a nod and heads back to the bridge. As much as he’s not sure he’s prepared for the conversation, hasn’t really decided which direction he wants it to go, he and Len need to talk. He only finds Ray and Sara in the middle of a conversation. Sara glares when he walks in. Ray brightens, smiles, and offers, “I think he went to his room.”
He pauses to look Ray over, wonder for a moment about optimism and what it must be like to be that good inside. His family would probably still be alive. Mick shakes his head, because he’s not going down that line of thought. Instead he turns his gaze to Sara and muses, “Heroes. You think he’d taste like sunshine?”
Sara glances down at Ray, who just laughs and is still smiling at him.
“Not my type,” Sara answers. “Though I’m not sure that’s what constant optimism tastes like. Why? You want to find out?”
It’s on the tip of Mick’s tongue to drawl out that he already has a partner, but the two of them have never been strictly monogamous, and they’ve both been eying Ray. Mick shrugs instead. “Haven’t decided yet. Talked the captain into a break.”
“That sounds good,” Ray sighs, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair.
Mick frowns. Ray’s been trying to act as though he’s recovering from their time in the gulag quickly, trying to play off the stiffness of his movements as nothing, even though they all know he’s still healing. Mick tries to quell down the need to strip Ray down and run hands over him, seek out the aches and to know how truly hurt he is. Man took a beating for him, but it’s not his place to care, not yet. With a growl Mick announces he’s going to find Len and turns to go.
“Are you fixing this?” Sara calls after him. He waves her off.
He’s not sure how he’s going to react, is trying to work himself down to calm, as he heads for Len’s room. As he knocks he finds himself grateful that they’d turned down Rip’s offer of a shared room, sometimes either one of them need their own space. Especially now, when Mick feels the need to knock and Len opens the door looking brittle.
“Thought this take longer,” Len drawls out.
They could argue. They could have an explosive argument right now, pull the rest of the crew into it even. Mick quells the impulse as he holds out his hand, “Need my meds.”
Len stills, eyes roaming over him slowly. Mick carefully doesn’t change his posture and doesn’t know where they stand until Len takes one step back and turns on his heel. Mick feels his shoulders relax minutely. If Len’s comfortable enough to turn his back then maybe they’ll get through this.
Mick watches Len’s face as he drops the pills into his waiting palm. Mick brings them to his mouth before taking the bottle of water Len’s offering. His eyes stay don’t leave Len’s. As Len takes a step back Mick realizes he’s not ready to lose this, not ready to give up the years between them. The city, that once perfect city, isn’t worth losing Len, isn’t worth the gamble of losing their lives.
“You take yours?”
“Still going to have nightmares.” Len shrugs, before he shakes his head. “I knock you out and drag you back on board this ship. I take you away from your dream life and you’re worried about my med.”
Mick huffs out an acknowledgement then says, “Habit. You keep track of my meds and I remind you to take yours.”
“Bad habit?”
Mick frowns not sure if Len means himself or the medicine. Mick shakes his head and goes for honest with both, “I’m not so lost anymore. Was it bad Lenny? How far gone was I? It was beautiful. I wanted it.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Mick’s eyes snap up to meet Len’s. “Don’t.”
“I should, shouldn’t I? That’s what you want?”
Mick frowns. “How far gone?”
“They are your friends Mick, and I had to talk you into helping. Maybe not Rip yet, but Sara?” Len starts, then sighs and points out, “You would’ve let me leave Palmer in that prison with his shrunken suit if you hadn’t started to care.”
Mick frowns, looks away. “Got distracted. He took a beating.”
Len stills, watches him closely, and Mick wonders what’s showing on his face. He’s not good about keeping his appetites in check, he usually has Len for that. He usually lets Len step in for that.
“Just how many beatings did Palmer take?”
“More than I should’ve allowed. He’s too Pollyanna to have realized he should’ve stuck close and let me protect him.”
“Maybe make yourself clear next time. Ray, you’re gonna pretend your mine and I’ll keep you from getting beat or worse.”
“He’s that thing where he’s too smart, but can’t tell when someone’s going to hurt him.”
“Booksmart versus streetsmart. Why are we debating Palmer?”
“Ray,” Mick corrects.
“Fine Ray, why are we debating Ray?”
“We’re talking, ain’t we?” Mick points out.
Len’s lips quirk upward. “Clever.”
Mick shrugs.
For a brief moment Len’s shoulders go back and Mick can almost feel the snarky comment brimming. It would lead to a joke, they would laugh and nothing would really be said. They could work together, pretend there isn’t this growing chasm between them. They could continue to circle each other until one of them snapped, it’d probably be him. Mick knows himself well enough to know it’d be him. And yet, Mick isn’t ready to throw away the trust the years between them have built, he’s not ready to go back to only being able to trust himself, not when he knows he can’t really ever trust himself.
He’s not sure how to fix this.
Mick gives a huff of frustration. He watches the bravado slide from Len’s shoulders. They’re at an impasse. How do they move forward? He wants to tell Len it’s his move because Len is the one who plans, always has multiple contingency plans.
Len’s eyes rove over him, eventually focusing on his head, the spot where he’d hit Mick. Mick reaches for him, takes Len’s hand slowly, and brings it up to that spot and despite the soreness forces himself not to flinch at the touch as he points out, “There isn’t even a bruise.”
Len looks away and down, voice distant, “Those are the ones that hurt the most. The ones you can’t see.”
Mick pushes into the room, shuts the door behind him and leans against it as he watches Len. He’s not having this conversation standing in the middle of the hallway. “Are you getting lost?”
Len hums a considering noise and for a brief moment Mick feels panic well in him. Len doesn’t get lost in his past often, but when he does it’s bad. Mick wishes Lisa had come on this trip instead of him, she knows how to pull Len out of himself when he gets like this. She says he’s good at it too, but Mick is never sure he hasn’t hurt Len more.
Len shakes his head slowly. “I’m here.”
Mick swears.
Len raises his eyebrows, then frowns and flexes his fingers against Mick’s face. Mick cups his hands, forces himself to remain still. Len wets his lips, swears, and then their kissing. It’s heated and harsh. They cross over to the bed quickly, Mick losing his shirt along the way. Len pulls back when his knees hit the bed, and he breathes out a slow breath, as he eyes search Mick’s face. “Should I have left you there? Is that what you wanted?”
“There are two Green Arrows now,” Mick concedes. “You weren’t happy. In that world, I don’t know how we’d have found your sister.”
“Lisa was dead,” Len bites out, the words coming out slow and rough.
Mick rests his forehead against Len’s. “You didn’t say.”
“You were too far gone.”
“I knew you were miserable, but I…Len,” Mick closes his eyes and breathes out. He’s going to have to be the one to bend here and he’s not used to bending, not when Len normally comes up with the compromises between them. Mick wets his lips. “You’re my partner. You’re my family. You and Lisa are the only family I have left, the only ones who I can trust to survive if I lose myself again. You survived last time and I almost didn’t.”
Len kisses him. Mick isn’t sure if it’s because he can’t take the words or can’t take anymore words. It’s brief and then Len’s watching him, waiting for him to continue.
Mick isn’t sure he has the words. This team, they’re too new. “Come on, Len. Please.”
“Not even Ray? You’re on a first name basis with him, made sure he wouldn’t feel left behind, and had vodka to wake up to.”
“I destroy my families. Burn them.”
Len cups his face, tilts Mick’s head till their eyes meet and reminds him, “Two members of this crew are already burning.”
Mick breathes out a low chuckle, “Yeah, but heros? I told you, I ain’t a hero.”
Len watches him silently, with that look of longing and conflict that’s been there for too long.
“I don’t know whose teeth I want to kick in more: that speedster or the captain,” Mick growls clenching his fists. He wants to hit someone for confusing Len like this. Len runs soothing hands down his chest and Mick leans into the touch, fists loosening as he admits, “I don’t have it in me to be a hero.”
Len leans in, presses a kiss to his jaw, and asks, “You think I do?”
“I think you want it. I think you both do,” Mick answers truthfully, knowing Len will understand he means Lisa too. He leans back and blows out a slow breath. He’s not ready to let go. He’s not ready to lose Len again. He crowds close, buries his face against Len’s shoulder and breaths in as he admits, “We were done. You said we were done and I…you brought me back in. You knew I wouldn’t say no. Not to being your partner again, not to that gun.”
“Heatwave,” Len drawls.
Mick hums his acknowledgement of the name before pressing a kiss to Len’s neck.
Len’s arms wrap around him tightly, “Mick?”
“Yeah, boss?” he tries.
His words earn him the smile he was going for.
“Partner,” Len corrects.
“You like being the boss.”
“I do, most of the time.”
Mick rocks forward at the heat behind Len’s words, at the look Len gives him. They can be done talking, they can distract each other and not be talking about the serious things that make Mick head hurt. He can do feelings, he just doesn’t like to discuss them. Still there’s more to hash out and Mick doesn’t want them to break.
“Talked the captain into a vacation,” Mick starts.
“Did you?”
“I said I wanted a beach. We’ll see what we get.” Mick grumbles.
Len shifts back just slightly, enough to get a good look at him, but not enough that their not still intertwined around each other. “What do you want me to talk to him about?”
“He needs to include you more, in the planning. He doesn’t count everything down to the second like you,” Mick points out.
“You’re saying he’s not as good?”
“I’m saying the plans would be better if he’d work with you, if he knew to listen more. Kendra won’t kill Savage if we don’t have the right plan, she’ll get kill instead, and then where will we be?”
“I think you mean when,” Len drawls out, teasing.
Mick smirks.
“Fine, I’ll talk to him.”
Mick nods.
“We done making up?”
Mick pulls him into a kiss. He’s done with words for now.