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Mick doesn’t notice right away. When he does though, it’s with his bottle half-way to his lips and he squints at Haircut who’s sitting on his chair in his lab, not touching any of the equipment for several long minutes by now. And if the first part isn’t enough to see something’s wrong, the fact that Haircut’s not speaking, not even humming his damn code song makes it all obvious enough.
Maybe Mick shouldn’t ask. Maybe he should just continue to drink and pretend he doesn’t notice these things, that he’s dumb enough to be obvious about them but this god forsaken team found a way to get to him. And this guy in front of him for some weird reason found a way under Mick’s skin all the way to the point that Mick just can’t let it go.
He bares his teeth at himself and bites down a growl. What the hell would Snart say if he ever found out that Mick feels like this about the most naïve goody-two-shoes through the whole history of time. Maybe it is for the best that the guy is dead.
“What’s wrong?” Mick drawls out and isn’t really surprised when Haircut jumps, startled, before he turns to Mick and plasters the big fake smile- one that makes Mick sick to his stomach - onto his face.
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.” Haircut’s shaking his head, his whole body is suddenly in motions. “Why would you think anything’s wrong? Everything’s great. I mean, we killed Mallus, saved the world, everything’s-“ Haircut’s eyes jump around the room for a second before returning to Mick’s. “great.”
Mick wonders if the guy will ever learn to lie. He also wonders how come no one else noticed, especially the people that keep claiming that the Legends are a family. A rather sucky family then.
Haircut’s hands are nervously twitching in his lap, something obviously on his mind, more and more urgent. So Mick doesn’t say anything. Instead he lifts the bottle to his lips once again and this time actually manages to take a swig, before the secrets spill from Boy Scout’s mouth.
“It’s just… you didn’t need me.” He whispers, catching Mick’s attention in a second. “I didn’t want the Earth totem, but I thought… maybe… I could be helpful with it. But the totem knew I wasn’t right. That’s why it didn’t work when I tried to stop Darhk. And then you guys were fighting Mallus and you were all joined together in that magical friendship moment-“
“Worst orgy ever.” Mick corrects but it’s as if Haircut doesn’t even hear him. Maybe he really doesn’t. Haircut tends to close in his own world of worries sometimes.
“And I wasn’t there.” He says, urgently and something pulls on the thing that’s supposed to be non-existent by now inside of Mick’s chest. Damn it. “I was on the sidelines watching with all the… the helpers. And that was great and all, but I was… I thought I was… I…”
“What?” Mick growls and Haircut’s eyes snap to him.
“I thought I was supposed to be with the Legends. But I wasn’t. And… it doesn’t feel like I’m part of the legends for some time now.”
Mick’s eyes narrow at that. Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?
“It just… feels like I’m a ghost. Like it doesn’t matter if I wasn’t here at all.”
“You’re an idiot.” Mick’s growling, standing up and marching over to Haircut before he knows what he’s doing. It’s nothing new, this lack of self-confidence that Haircut has. This need to prove himself over and over again and it never being enough in his own eyes. “We wouldn’t beat Mallus without you.”
“But that’s the thing! You did!”
“No.” Mick grumbles. Haircut looks up from the floor, but before he can say anything, Mick glares. “The totems didn’t work the first time we tried. They only worked the second time, because of you.” Mick watches as Haircut’s mouth open and closes several times, before the guy blinks, confused.
“… what?” He asks in the end, voice small and a bit hopeful. He’s looking at Mick as if Mick was the key to his very existence. Mick wants to reach out, though he’s not sure what he wants to do – hit the guy over the head and call him an idiot or kiss him.
“Amaya and the boss got it all wrong.” He grumbles instead. “They tried to give this thing a spark, blood, flesh, breath, soul and the ability to kill. But they forgot about the other thing it needs. And that’s why it turned into a rip off of the alchemist dead-brought-back-to-life thing.”
“.. .we’re not talking the TV adaptation are we because-“
“Not the point, Haircut.” Mick’s growl interrupts the guy and he huffs. “We only managed the second time, because you gave the thing heart.”
“But… I didn’t do anything.” Ray says, but he’s staring at Mick, hanging on his every word, obviously wishing Mick was right. Well… Mick is.
“You freed Darhk and helped to save his daughter. The water trinket bonded with you.” Pretty much like the death token did with Sara. It only worked when one of the true bearers put their heart into it. Which, of course ought to be Haircut. Haircut who is innocent and pure and stupid. Haircut, who was the real champion of the legends, not that blue furry thing. Because Haircut sacrificed his own heart and didn’t even know about it.
Mick doesn’t jump when Haircut’s hands clutch on his shoulders, but he does growl at being prevented from enjoying his beer once again.
“You really mean that, don’t you?” Haircut asks, begs for reassurance. “I gave Beebo the heart.”
“Sounds retarded when you say it like that.” Mick points out, but Haircut’s not listening anymore. He’s grinning, wide, happy and real this time. Mick’s glaring even though something in his chest settles finally and he can’t tear his eyes away from the man in front of him, who’s all but jumping on his feet.
“I gave Beebo the heart!” Haircut yells out again, as if there is anyone other than Mick to hear it, before he leans in, pressing his lips against Mick in a quick movement. “Thanks, Mick! Best news I heard today!” He lets go of Mick and walks back to the lab table.
As if nothing happened. Mick blinks, once, twice. He’s not even aware that he’s still holding his beer, not until he lifts his hand up and the beer bottle touches his mouth, pulling him out of his shock.
Haircut just kissed him and now he’s humming, tinkering with parts of his suit.
Mick growls, lets go of the bottle – hearing it break when it hits the floor but not caring in the slightest - before marching over to the man.
“Did you just drop your beer? Mick?”
Haircut just kissed him and he didn’t even notice.
Mick doesn’t waste any time grabbing the back of Raymond’s neck and smashing their lips together. It might be a bit rougher than he meant to, but hell. At least the guy will be aware of it, this time.
What an idiot.