Leonard Snart;
â Captain Cold â I still don't know what this blog is going to be; multi-verse, indie, something. I don't know. I just know that I have a lot of feelings about Leonard Snart and those feels need to come out, because I don't have the time to write a million-word fic about these emotions.
Feel free to send memes, questions, headcanons, questions/thoughts about my fics, or whatever comes to mind.
SEMI-HIATUS
Open for memes/questions only.
Writing for: Coldwave, Rogue Canary, Len & Lisa, gen combinations with nearly any character in the DCTV verse.
Tracking: leonardsnartwrites
â„ Crissy
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I revisited your gorgeous wingfic series the other day (still adore it!) and I wondered if you were ever planning to write any more in that AU? So good! <3
If I have anything to say about it, I definitely do! I have so many plans for that series that life just hasnât given me the time/muse to write. It will get continued at some point, though. I just canât guarantee when the next posting date is. Iâm so happy you like that series, though! Itâs one of my favorites.Â
First, I apparently hit 100 followers in the time that Iâve been gone. Hello to all the newbies and to those of you who have put up with my horrendous activity here.
Secondly, this hiatus was only supposed to last until July when my vacations ended and I was able to get caught up at work. Clearly, the hiatus has not ended and I have continued to suck. I am so sorry. Life still hasnât really calmed down and the effects of it have seriously been messing with me.
For those of you that follow my main, you may have noticed that I did participate in the Leonard Snart Big Bang. Between time constraints within my RL and muse issues because I havenât had time to write properly in months, I struggled with it. Iâm trying to get back into the swing of fic writing as time allows, but as it stands right now, Iâm not consistent enough to reopen for prompts yet.
The semi-hiatus is going to continue a while longer, so while I wonât be open for prompts, Iâll be reblogging memes as time allows. Iâm also always open for questions pertaining to Len or any of my fics (posted to this blog or not).
This isnât really the update I wanted to give, especially considering how late I am in actually returning, but... Iâm still alive? So thereâs that???
I now return to my regularly scheduled zombie state of functioning coma-person.
If it werenât for Lisa, Len is knowshe would have died years ago. Whether it was by Lewisâ hand or his own⊠Thefact was that before she was born, Len had all but given up. There was nofuture for him where he wasnât trapped under Lewisâ thumb and even if he wasyoung, he was already so tired. Trying to get away and make something more ofhimself⊠He just hadnât had it in him, not until she was born and he had apurpose. Not until she was there and he had something he had to protect.
They donât like talking aboutthe scars Len gave himself, about the lowest of low moments that heâs had overthe course of his life. Temptations and could-have-beens, but Len had promisedher a long time ago that if he was going to die, it wouldnât be by his ownhand.
Standing shoulder-deep in theOculus, he thought he might be breaking that promise.
âż - Sex headcanon
Getting Len into bed is noteasy. Lights off. Clothes back on almost immediately after. No cuddling. Canyou have sex with minimal touching? He is not good with people, okay? If hedidnât actually enjoy sexâunder the right conditionsâheâd swear off of itentirely. Itâs vulnerable and open in ways he doesnât like being, so the amountof people heâs had sex with? He can count on one hand. Itâs not for lack ofattractiveness. He knows heâs attractive and he knows how to flirt, but most ofthe time, he balks at the moment where the game takes the transition to sex. Heâsgot scars and enough issues that Mick will be dragging his ass to therapy forthe rest of his life, so letting people see that⊠The idea of people touchingcertain scars, even by accidentâŠ
There have been a coupleone-night stands, but Mickâs the only one that heâs been with more than once.Mickâs the only one he trusts like that.
⊠- quirks/hobbies headcanon
Len gets twitchy sometimes, butitâs gotten worse since he started working with heroes more. Itâs pulled himaway from the things he knows and⊠Heâs a damn kleptomaniac, alright? Diagnosedand everything. His shrink would prefer if he resisted the urge, but thatâs nothis style at all. So he carries random trinkets in his pockets and picked upthe habit of dropping things into the Legendsâ pockets that he can steal later.Stealing their stuff would be more fun,but Mick keeps telling him the ship is dramatic enough without him stealingtheir shit every time his hands get twitchy.
He does still steal theirwallets sometimes, but he gives them back. No one will notice if theyâremissing five bucks. Ray didnât notice the one timeâtwoâŠfine, three timesâLen stole fifty.Â
Reminder for everyone that while prompts are closed until July due to the semi-hiatus, I am open for memes and any questions youâve got for me. Memes are getting reblogged periodically, but theyâre not gonna show up in the tags since theyâre not new posts.Â
Go ahead and send memes for any of the ones Iâve reblogged since the semi-hiatus started. It doesnât solely have to be from the most recent one.
Writing for: Coldwave, Rogue Canary, Len & Lisa, gen combinations with pretty much anyone from the DCTVÂ âverse.
đâŠsomeone my muse has never met, but wants to meet.
His grandparents on his momâs side. When he was a kid, heâd listen to her talk about Ethiopia. Sheâd come to Central for college and ended up marrying Lewis, even though her parents hadnât approved of him. But sheâd been young and in love and by the time she realized what sheâd done, it felt like it was too late. So she raised Len on stories of home and taught him Amharic like it was their own secret code.
Sheâd been trying to find a way to divorce Lewis and take Len back home with her. Heâd been excited for it, but she died before she could get them out of there and his grandparents hadnât been able to go to the funeral.
Long distance calls being what they were back then, he never got to talk to them, much less meet them. All he ever had was an old picture his mother had kept. His main motivations for wanting to join the Waverider had been about the thieving opportunities and adventures good enough to make the sci-fi fan in him lost its collective shit, but... Heâd thought itâd be a chance to meet them. Just once.
đ âŠsomeone my muse loves.
Lisa. He was still young when Lewisâ second wife came into his life, but he looked at this barely legal girl that was buying into all of Lewisâ false promises. Lewis ruined her as much as he ruined everything he touched. Len didnât particularly care for her either way--not that she cared much about him--but the one good thing she did before she left was give him Lisa. If anything, her birth made Len up his game and hone his skills. Better skills meant coming home and coming home meant protecting Lisa.
He stole to keep Lewis happy. He stole to make sure Lisa had everything she needed. He broke his back trying to make sure he could keep enough money squirreled away to pay for her figure skating. Lisa was the first person since his mom heâd let himself love and for a long time, he didnât think he had room in his heart for anyone else.
When he stuck his arm in the Oculus, his biggest regret was that he never got to say goodbye.
đ âŠsomeone my muse would kill for.
That implies he hasnât killed for them yet, so that rules out Mick and Lisa. Who he has killed for many times without a thought.
Barry. He didnât think heâd like the hero in his little fetish suit, but the kid kind off grew on him. Messing with him was entertaining, but there was a certain quality to the kid that makes Len want him to stay innocent to some things. It might have a little to do with the fact that he got on pretty well with Henry Allen. Just a little. Maybe. Henry was a good guy, alright? And heâd helped patch Len up once when he caught a shiv and Mick wasnât in with him, so he owed him a little.
Besides, he knows Barry is good. Barry is a hero in ways Len never will be and, honestly, never wants to be. He may taunt the kid with the idea of it--and did when they were going after a giant man shark oh my god--but thatâs because he knows Barry never would. Len doesnât mind getting his hands dirty, but if he had to? Heâd be okay killing someone for the kid.
â how long does your muse usually need for a shower/bath?
It depends. If itâs a normal shower, heâs in and out in ten minutes. If itâs because heâs hurting and his back or his joints are bothering him, heâll lie in a too-hot tub until Mick starts in on him about heat stroke. Which Len is pretty damn sure you canât get from sitting in a bath, but Mick can be a mother hen sometimes.
If Mickâs showering with him, the showers last as long as the water tank does.
†does your muse have any scars? where? what do they look like? how did get them?
Len has way too many scars. Injuries are a hazard of being Lewisâ son and of being a criminal. If it wasnât his dad with fists and broken beer bottles, it was jobs with guns or inmates with shivs. There are some burn scars from Mickâs fires that they donât talk about. Ever.
People crack jokes about the way he keeps himself covered up, but the fact of the matter is that heâs got scars all over, but theyâre mostly centered on his upper body. When Gideon reconstructed his hand and part of his wrist, it was the first time heâd seen that skin scar-free in decades. Old cigarette burns--another of Lewisâ favorites--were gone, but more are still littered up the inside of both forearms. Heâs got an old stab wound on his right side. There are burns on his back from when he dragged Mick out of the fire in Shreveport. A bullet wound in his left shoulder from one bastard that got too close. His right knee has a mess of surgical scars from when a job went bad and Mick had downright carried him to a hospital. There are more scars he doesnât even remember the stories behind, whether by time or by choice. Lisa still gets choked up whenever she sees whatâs left of old scars on his back. He thinks they might be from a belt, but heâs not sure and itâs better to just not let her see them.
⊠any tattoos? where? whatâs the story behind them?
No tattoos. There have been points where he wanted them and where he told himself âif I ever got a tattoo, this is what Iâd getâ, but tattoos mean identifying marks and having to expose scarred skin to a tattoo artist.
Let it be clear, Len has zero interest in prison tats. He knows how theyâre done and knows with his luck, heâd end up with an infection. Heâll pass.
⊠what clothes do they sleep in?
Long-sleeved shirts and sweatpants. Yes, he is the person that will get redressed after sex, even if his partner is looking at him like heâs crazy. No, he does not want to sleep naked. Most of his beds have been in sketchy motel rooms or half-assed safe-houses. Youâre lucky he put his naked ass on that bed long enough to do anything.
Plus, heâs always cold as shit at night. Poor circulation.
Lendoesnât trust many people and heâs let even fewer so close to him that theyâdhave that kind of power. Heâs not good with love. Heâs overprotective of Lisato the point that she wants to kill him half the time and heâs a downrightjealous bastard when it comes to Mick, but breaking his heart? Losing his momhad hurt. Realizing that Lisa was at a point in her life where she didnât needhim to protect her had left him feeling a little lost. Mick⊠Heâd alwayswondered if Mick would be the death of him, if heâd be so unwilling to leaveMick that theyâd both burn one day.
Rightup until Shreveport and the fire. Mick burned, but his own self-preservationhad kicked in. In hindsight, it had saved them both. But Mick was hurt and itwas bad and no one really knew what was going to happen. Len was staring downunsure futures of disabilities if Mick survived and funerals if he didnât andâŠHeâs not proud of running. Heâs not. He looks back and knows it was the biggestmistake of his life, but heâd been too scared of watching Mick die or watchingthem break into too many pieces to be put back together.
Runningaway was easier than letting Mick break his heart, so in the end, Len kind ofbroke his own.Â
Send one of the following symbols to find out more about my muse!
Part I: (X)
Getting closer:
Ă what does your muse smell like? what perfume/cologne are they using?
ïżœ do they shower often? every day or just every couple of days?
â» how about brushing teeth? three times a day, or just in the morning?
â do they rather shower or take a bath?
â how long does your muse usually need for a shower/bath?
⣠how long does your muse need to shave? (this is also for the ladies!)
â does your muse put on make-up? how long do they need for it every day?Â
âą what kind of make-up does your muse use? favourite colours? how much do they use?
Exploring their body:
†does your muse have any scars? where? what do they look like? how did they get them?
⧠any freckles/moles/birth marks? where?
⥠are their fingernails dirty or clean? cut/long?
âą how much do they weigh?
â any âweirdâ characteristics on their body? one leg/arm longer than the other?
⣠are their veins particularly visible when theyâre angry/upset/sad?
â„ do they have more muscles or more fat on their body?
⊠any tattoos? where? whatâs the story behind them?
Open your closet:
⊠what clothes do they sleep in?
â do they have a favourite piece of clothing?
â what do they usually wear when theyâre not working?
â what do they wear when theyâre at work?
†how many shoes do they have? what kind?
ÎŁ how many purses do they have?
â how long do they need to decide what to wear in the morning?
â do they go shopping for clothes often? how long do they usually need?
$ how much money do they spend on clothes every month?
Alright, guys. My inbox is officially empty again. At this point, Iâd usually be reopening for prompts, but my schedule from now through June is about to get insane. Weâre talking working three weeks straight without a day off followed immediately by a vacation and another two weeks after that. Between running around for all of that and a few other obligations Iâve got, I donât want to open for prompts again just to make the people who sent them in wait months for their ficlet. The whole point of this year was for me to stop doing that.
So Iâm going on a semi-hiatus instead.
I wonât be reopening for prompts until probably the beginning of July, but in the meantime, Iâll still be reblogging some memes that you guys can send in. They wonât be the same as the ficlets, but Iâll be able to churn them out faster than I do the ficlets. Or... Well, thatâs the goal. Also remember that my askbox is always open for questions regarding any of my fics (even the ones not posted through here) or any Leonard Snart-type questions youâve got.
Coldwave + gen Legends team prompt - x number of times someone from the team thought they were together plus 1 time they actually were but no one believed them? (And thanks for opening up prompts again!)
1. Rip
Rip gave them separate roomson the ship.
Len exchanged a curious lookwith Mick, but shrugged. It didnât matter much to him. Two rooms just meantmore space to put their stuff as they went on their shopping trip across time.Plus, itâd be nice to have separate corners to go back to when they needed thespace. They may have gotten back to their version of normal for the most part,but that also included periods where they needed a few days apart.
Honestly, he thought mostmarried couples could benefit from that.
âBeds are a little small,Rip,â he drawled while Mick snorted behind him.
âThis is a time ship, Mr.Snart,â the captain said with disdain, ânot a Motel 6.â
âYou mean the beds donâtvibrate when you put a quarter in?â Lenâs eyes widened dramatically. âMick, weneed to go back to Central.â
âI thought you liked the onesin Keystone,â Mick said with a barely contained grin.
âI do,â Len admitted. Theyran too loud, but combine it with a heating pad and it was great when his backwas bothering him. Plus, it made Mick laugh. âChange of plans. We need to go toKeystone.â
âYouâre some of the oldermembers of the crew,â Rip reminded them, irritated and long-suffering. âPleaseact like it.â
âWeâre thieves,â Len remindedhim. âWe donât exactly follow societal norms.â
âShip seems smart,â Mickpiped in. âBet it could make the beds vibrate.â
âBeds,â Rip repeated, as ifmaking two beds vibrate instead of one was ludicrous.
âWe need options,â Lenagreed. âAmbiance. I like decorating with art. Mick likes memorabilia.â
âJust wait until I getZepplinâs guitar.â
Rip frowned at them, perplexed.âPartners?â he questioned.
âIn sickness and in health,âLen deadpanned. âIf itâs legal. Mick, was it legal?â
âFor us or the aliases?â Mickasked innocently just before Rip walked away from them entirely. He met Lenâseyes with a grin. âThink he knows?â
âWeâre legends,â Len saidwith the worst English accent he could muster. The snort Mick gave was completelyundignified. âIâd bet itâs in the history books. CCPD were starting to figureit out before we left.â
âFinally.â
Len hummed in agreement. âYoureally think the ship can make the beds vibrate?â
2.Sara
Flirting with Sara was agame. She met him comment for comment while Mick rolled his eyes and it was fun. It was meaningless if they wantedit to be and if they didnât⊠It wasnât as if he and Mick were strictly monogamous. If the wind blewright and they felt like only being with each other, theyâd speak up. Monogamymeant putting those rings back on significant fingers and the old school ideaof forsaking all others.
They werenât wearing theirrings when they joined the Waverider. They were back together, but running ontheir old rhythms and it was fine. It was how they worked.
Mick had been amused by Sarafrom day one. Pegged her and the look Len was definitely giving her ass andtold him good luck, because Mickthought Len wouldnât have a chance. Len would have been insulted if his idea offlirting with women didnât usually end up being snarky comments that were only kind of flirting and being overlyforward in the same breath.
There was a reason heâdmostly only been with men.
But Sara was fun. Theircomments became steps to an odd little dance that would go as far as theywanted it to. Maybe a bed. Maybe nowhere at all. It was enough to keep him onhis toes and he saw the answering grin from her that said she was having justas good a time.
WhichâŠdidnât quite explainthe vaguely guilty look that took over her face when sheâd asked for a sparringpartner and saw a lingering hickey low on his neck.
âWhereâd that come from?â sheasked, sounding a little amused, but there was a sudden tension that hadnâtbeen there before.
He frowned at her, confused. âMick,âhe replied, because who else would it be from? They all knew they weretogether.
Guilt and hurt and anger andhe really did not understand girls, because all of a sudden, she was mutteringabout men being infuriating.
Maybe he should just stopflirting with women.
3.Amaya
They couldnât see himanymore, not since Stein had taken the receiver out of Mickâs head. The thinghadnât been functional in months, not properly, but it had been enough for Len.It had given him something to latch onto, something that solidified theconnection between him and Mick, but with it goneâŠ
Maybe it was for the best, hethought. Every time heâd appeared to Mick, heâd been frustrated and bitter andit wasnât helping anything. It wasnât as if telling Mick it was him would helpanything, because they were right. He was blown through the time stream inmillions of pieces, floating through time and space until it was all happeningat once and⊠Fuck, just trying to stay centered on a single version of Micktook everything he had. There was no point in telling Mick the truth when itcouldnât save him. It would just hurt them both.
He still watched, forced hiscells together as much as he could and to stay in one fucking place so he couldwatch. Watched the team knock Mick down until they had to build themselves backup as one.
Amaya wasâŠgood. Flawed asanyone and uneducated in some things, but she listened when Mick explainedpyromania and anxiety to her and when he told her that her view of mentalhealth was outdated. Len could respect her and the way she was a little morecareful with Mick on the bad days.
She let Mick talk about Lenon those days, attentive while he went on about whatever story came to mind.Old jobs. The safe house in Gotham Len had loved and Mick had outright banned,because it was Gotham.
âYou miss him,â she said,understanding and kind as one story tapered off with a sad chuckle.
âBuilt my fuckinâ life aroundhim,â Mick agreed. He took another long drink from his beer like itâd numb thehurt.
Her eyes widened a little atthe words, surprised, and Len wondered if anyone had bothered to tell her theyâdbeen together. Maybe not, he considered. The others didnât tend to talk abouthim much and Mick wasnât a big talker in general, especially not when he had totalk about feelings. âYou twoâŠâ
Mick grunted and took anothersip of his beer. âBastard loved starting shit. You shoulda seen the game of catand mouse him and Sara had going,â he told her. âKept telling him they neededto find a bed and get it over with.â
Bright side, alternate himwasnât some kind of hypocritical Nazi.
Downside, the alternate himhad puppets.
Len didnât even know wherethe man found puppet versions of the team. He didnât think he wanted to know.
The humor of his existencewas dampened by Steinâs death, though. Heâd been ambivalent about the professorwith his attitude and tendency to look down on the less moral of them, but heliked Jax. The kid was broken up about it, lost without his other half, andwhile Len hovered behind Mick unseen, he watched Jax get halfway to Mick justto change his mind and turn around. Searching for help and too scared to askfor it, Len thought. Poor kid.
If heâd had any effect on theworld around him, he might have made something crash, cause some kind of noisethat would make Mick look in Jaxâs direction before the kid could turn tail andrun.
He didnât need to.
Somewhere near the fourteenthtime, Mick cracked open a second beer and slid it to the empty spot next tohim. âTake a seat, kid,â he said without turning around, because of course Mickhad known Jax was there. Heâd probably always known, but  he was letting the kid do what he needed to.Hide when he needed to hide.
Jax hesitated before he satdown, beer bottle clutched between two hands for a long time before he finallytook a drink. âItâs my fault,â Jax said finally.
âHe made his choice,â Mickcountered. âLoved you enough that he wanted you to make it out if only one ofyou could.â
âHe had a family!â
âAnd youâve got a whole lifeahead of you,â Mick reminded him, blunt but not without kindness. There was atenderness with Jax. He was the youngest of the team and old enough to takecare of himself, but Mick would always be a big brother. âDoesnât make it anyeasier when youâre the one left behind, but itâs what youâve got.â
âThat what you do?â
Len wasnât sure he actually needed to breathe, but his breath stillcut off suddenly. This wasnât a conversation he wanted to be a part of, muchless be a spectator to, but he didnât know how to leave. Thought it might have been his own fucking masochism thatkept him there.
âAinât the same, kid,â Micktold him with a kind of tiredness that made Lenâs throat feel tight. The handthat wasnât holding the beer bottle reached up reflexively to brush against thechain around his neck he usually kept under his shirt. Heâd been playing withthe twin bands absently before Jax joined him, but they were still in the openand Len watched Jaxâs eyes focus in on them. Watched them go wide for a minute,surprised, and quickly turn into a grief that was new and old.
âMickâŠâ
âJust keep going, kid,â Micktold him. âThatâs what he wanted. Just live your damn life.â
Jax nodded, eyes wet, andthey lapsed back into silence. The rings didnât disappear back under Mickâsshirt while they nursed their beers and Len found himself staring at them. Theway the platinum glinted off the lights and the way they laid against eachother on the chain.
Jax kept looking too. Lenwondered if it was guilt or the kid questioning his own future.
5.The Team
The time stream spit him outin a whirl of colors and pain.Non-corporeal becoming corporeal again and Len hadnât felt in three years. But his knees collapsed under him and hecrashed to uneven ground with a rock digging into his hip and⊠Wild eyessearched around, wide and watery because the daylight was too fucking bright.Blurry figures, gasps, and shouts.
Big hands on his shoulders.
He cried out, startled.
The hands moved up to holdhis face and tilt it upwards. Get a good look, his mind supplied, but he had topress his eyes shut because of the way the light burned.
âYouâre okay,â a voice said. Mickâs voice, rough and gravelly andbrittle in ways that Len knew meant Mick was about to lose his shit. âYouâreokay, Lenny. Youâre⊠Fuck.â
He wanted to say something,to tell Mick he was alright, but it might have been as much lie as it wastruth. He was shaking and if anyone accused him of crying, heâd blame it on theway the light hurt his eyes, but he was alive? Back? He didnât know what tocall it.
Didnât bother trying tofigure it out as Mick hugged him hard, lips brushing over his cheek beforeMickâs face was buried in his neck. Len held him back just as hard, likeholding onto Mick would keep him from disappearing again and put him backtogether all at once.
âMust be happy to have yourpartner back, huh?â Ray asked Mick with a watery smile later, after theyâd managedto pick themselves off the ground and acknowledged the others.
Mickâs arm tightened aroundLenâs waist, supporting and needing support all at once. âYeah,â he said as Lenleaned into him, body feeling weak. âYeah, Haircut.â
Nate stared at them foranother second before realization dawned. âOhhh. Partners.â
Saraâs palm met her forehead.
Mick shook his head andshuffled Len on board.
+1Time They Didnât Believe Them
Mick was hurt. Mick was hurt. It was more fire and burns andthis wasnât supposed to happen again. It wasnât supposed toâŠ
Theyâd been too far away fromthe Waverider and Gideonâs med bay. Too far away from the futuristic saves andtheyâd had to settle for a hospital. It was 2012 and Len was back in another ERin another shitty city and losing his mind. Maybe losing Mick. He couldnâtfucking do this again. He couldnâtâŠ
Heâd put his wedding ringback on in the mad rush to get to the hospital. Paramedics bent over Mick inthe ambulance and blood on his hands, Len had swallowed back bile and unhookedthe ring from the chain around his neck. It didnât fit him right anymore,knuckles just barely big enough that he had to force it down. Thanked a god hedidnât believe in and had to rightthen that heâd been just this side of too skinny since the time stream hadgiven him back to Mick. It felt too tight and heâd have a hell of a timegetting it off later, but he needed it. Needed the connection. Needed the proof.
âIâm his husband,â he toldthe doctor when the man didnât want to release any information. Dark eyesflickered down to the ring.
âMr. Snart-â
âRory,â he corrected, becausewhen it came to hospitals and real names, he was always Leonard Rory. A cityhall wedding. A name change somewhere down the road that might not have been atall legal. Heâd never wanted to keep Lewisâ name, had downright laughed whenMick had made a joke about hyphenating.
âMr. Rory,â the doctorcorrected sympathetically, âthe burns were extensiveâŠâ
He listened to theexplanation and the promises that theyâd do everything they could for him, andno one seemed to judge him for the way he sank into a chair and put his head inhis hands.
âI wanna transfer him toBoston when heâs stable,â he said, because they could get Mick off-course intransport and get him back to the Waverider. Let Gideon heal him back up theway heâd been. Mick didnât need more burns. He might look at the scars likesome kind of religious communion with the fire, but not with the way the doctorwas saying it had crippled him this time.
God, his faceâŠ
âIt was a good idea,â Zarisaid to him after the doctor had left and theyâd visited and Len had thrown upuntil his head spun. âTelling them you were married. They only would havetalked to family.â
âYou did it for the legalprotections, right?â Nate guessed. âSince spouses canât testify against eachother.â
âAnd medical,â Ray added. Asif heâd needed to.
âYou want help getting thering off?â Sara offered. âPinky rings arenât really meant for the otherfingers. It looks like itâs starting to cut off circulation.â
âIt wasnâtâŠâ He wanted to sayit wasnât a pinky ring, that heâd been a scrawny shit when theyâd gottenmarried and that, back then, it had fit on the proper finger. The wordswouldnât come, though, and he shook his head, pulling his hand in towards hischest. He could have Gideon resize it when they got back to the ship. Let hergrow his finger back if she had to.
Coldwave prompt - has Mick hurt himself with his lighter before Enter the Jungle? If so, how did Len help him through it?
I typically wouldnât put the entire reply under a cut, but as it centers very heavily around self harm and a referenced eating disorder, I figured Iâd err on the side of caution. Also, these two are dysfunctional and the way they deal with things is not how people actually should deal with these matters at all, so please do not follow their example.
Lisa had always said they weretoo much alike; self-destructive meets self-destructive. Len pushed himself toand past the edge of too much, body too skinny to be healthy, and an unsettlingapathy to keeping himself alive. But the fire⊠The fire consumed Mick.  It was a compulsion and an addiction in thesame breath that he felt with an intensity Len didnât think heâd ever fullyunderstand. He tried to, but the same ways Mick couldnât quite get why Len losthimself to his plans at his healthâs expense, Len couldnât quite fathom whyMick loved something that would be the death of him.
Heâd known it from the beginning,staring across the juvieâs infirmary at his savior and watching as he flicked alighter that wouldnât light.
âItâs empty,â he told Len when hecaught him looking. âPyro. Shrink told them to let me keep an empty one.â
âDoes it help?â
One shoulder lifted up in ashrug. âBetter than not having it.â
Three days later, Len lifted aworking lighter off a guard and presented it to Mick.
Hours later, he watched Mickhold the flame so close, his skin burned.
âMick!â Len caught him by thewrist and pulled the lighter away from burning flesh. âWhat the hell?!â
Mick blinked like he was comingout of a daze and gave the mark on his arm a blank look. âHuh.â No surprise. Nodisgust. JustâŠsimple observation. Like it was normal. Like he was used to itand-
Oh.
The burn scars made a littlemore sense now.
Lenâs breath shook.
It wasnât the last time hewatched Mick burn his skin away.
âYou arenât gonna stop, areyou?â Len asked him hopelessly as he tended to a burn with practiced hands. Toomany burns. Too many years. Things that shouldnât have become routine had.
âAre you?â Mick returned with apointed look at the callouses on Lenâs knuckles.
Len flinched under his gaze andreached for the burn cream. âYou could have just said no.â
Shreveport fell apart.
Mick burned.
The sense memory of the smellmeant Len didnât have to stick fingers down his throat anymore.
The cold gun was a comfort,like it could save the both of them from the flame if he tried hard enough. Itdid as much as it didnât. The first time he watched Mickâs lighter drift tooclose to his skin, he lost it. Mick was by his side when the world came backinto focus, one hand rubbing circle on his back while Len stayed bent over themotel roomâs toilet.
Heavy breaths and sobs and Lencouldnât understand his own words, but he thought he was begging Mick forsomething. To stop. To please stop,because IcanâtIcanâtIcanât.
He might have told Mick aboutthe rest; about the vomiting and the shrinks and the hospital stay and Lisapleading with him to stop before he wasted away to nothing. About trying to getbetter and that he doesnât know how to do that if he has to watch Mick burnhimself away.
He was still shaking when Mickgot him back to the bed and wrapped him up in his arms.
âI donât care about fixinâ me,âMick said, voice rough as he kneaded at Lenâs scalp with his fingertips, âbutyou need me to do it for you, I will.â
It wasnât right and it wasnât theway any shrink would approve of trying to do this, but neither of them had everbeen poster children for mental health. They were dysfunctional and messy inall the ways they shouldnât be. But Mick wasnât burning himself and Len wasnâtthrowing up and⊠They could make it work. Theyâd make it work.
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