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He went back to the Vanishing Point.
The scene of the crime.
The Oculus.
It was the only place he could go. It wasn’t like there was a body to bury. To put rocks on. To light candles around. Lenny would have liked that. It was one of the traditions he always kept. Anniversary of the death, the yahrzeit as he’d told Mick, you go to the person’s grave and put stones on it, light a candle. Lenny’d always gone to his mom’s, every year. They lit a candle, and Mick would stay and watch the candle as Lenny’d put stones he collected over the course of the year on it, telling her the story behind why he’d collected each. He’d apparently collected one from their first job together where Len was the head of the crew, the one Mick’d given him the ring from, the ring he now wore on the string around his neck, kept there ever since… well, ever since Len had sacrificed himself and saved the timeline like some goddamn hero. Len wasn’t just some goddamn hero; he was the best thief of Central City.
Mick put the first stone down on the platform the Oculus had been on, realizing he’d been talking aloud to Len again, even if the Len he had seen, other than during the mission to get the Hobbit guy’s grail thing and the whole monkey’s paw wish-stick afterward, was just a figment of his mind and he’d never see him again. His breath cracked in the back of his throat. That thought was nearly enough to want the piece of Time Bastard tech back in his brain, because he knew that it, and not his cogna-whatever, two ideas at war with each other. He’d had two ideas at war with each other before and had never seen ghosts, developed schizophrenia, whatever. All the time when he and Len would fight, which okay, now all their fights were done and they were never going to have another, he could admit he was in the wrong on half of them. “See, Snart, I admitted you were right.” At the time though, he and Snart stormed out, not seeing each other until month later when he would go to Snart’s or Snart would come to him, and they’d either have their punch-up then and there, or continue on as if nothing had happened. Water under the bridge and all.
Mick lit the candle, one of the ones that burned for twenty-six hours. He was still truly amazed at how many of the Jewish holidays involved fire. Hanukkah, of course, with its nine-candle menorah and the story of how the oil burned for eight days until the next shipment of oil came in when there was only enough oil for one, because you weren’t allowed to let it go out in the old Temple. And you were supposed to light the candle at a different height and use that to light all the others according to what number day it was and then sit there in meditation or prayer for the 30 minutes it took for the candle to burn down. They’d taught Lisa gambling one Hanukkah with the dreidel and m&ms and the Hebrew letters on the sides meaning different things – take it all out, take half, take nothing, put in. Somehow, Lisa always ended up getting all the m&ms when she was playing with them, which Mick thought must be Len doing something on her behalf but could never prove. It was, however, the first time he and Lisa had actually had a conversation that wasn’t just him being afraid to say anything other than ask how her classes were going and which one was her favorite. Turned out Pint Size was full of snark and had soon eviscerated him so bad that he had no choice but to snark her out as well, which she responded to in kind. He saw Len relax his shoulders and smiled his genuinely pleased as the cat that got the cream smile. And then they ate deep fried chicken fingers, onion rings, and deep-fried oreos, and deep-fried potato slices, which were apparently traditional latkes. And then jelly donuts, which Len had grabbed from a cop car, which were apparently called sufganyot when they were for Hanukkah, even if they had been just jelly donuts in the cops’ hands.
But more than that. He remembered the first time he’d determined Lenny was a keeper. The tiny kid had applied for a religious observance outing from juvie. Mick was curious because the kid didn’t seem religious, of any religion he knew. But he got it and then asked to bring a friend along as well. He told Mick that even though he wasn’t really religious enough to observe this one regular he thought Mick would find it cool, so they were to act like he was. Mick rolled his eyes, but nodded. If nothing else, it would provide a nice change of scenery for a while. One of the guards drove them to a synagogue, where Mick saw other kids and grown ups all wearing black suits with hats and fringe sticking out from under their suit. “Get a kippah,” Lenny hissed at him, gesturing at the basket with the caps in it, taking one for himself and clipping it to his hair. Mick took one and clipped it to his and then followed Lenny around the back of the synagogue. Mick felt the enormous bonfire before he saw it, and seeing it, it was a blissful sight. “Lenny,” Mick breathed.
“Uhh…” the guard said, clearly wondering what he was taking them to.
“Shut up. It’s Lag B’Omer!” Mick just walked over to one of the benches and sat down, marveling at the giant bonfire and not moving until the observance around the fire was done, though he was vaguely aware that Lenny went over to someone and said a few words, nodding back at Mick, and that the person smiled and nodded.
On the ride back, Mick was calm for the first time in weeks. “Lenny,” he said after they got back to juvie. “Did you do that just for me?”
“Yeah. My mom used to volunteer there sometimes when she was still alive.”
“Lenny, you’re the greatest.”
And Lenny did his happy, little smile.
Over the years since, Mick had started thinking of that smile as his secret little victory smile.
It only appeared when Len was truly happy, which wasn’t terribly often, but when it did appear, it brightened Mick’s day, nearly equal to how fire did.
It appeared when they’d gotten custody of Lisa, Lenny in a borrowed suit, “yes, ma’am” and “no, sir” all over the place, politest he’d ever been before a court of law.
It appeared when Len and Lisa had gotten Mick into ice skates and out on the ice. And Mick actually liked those piece of crap hockey skates. So Len had taught him a few tricks that were easier with hockey skates than figure skates. Lisa had brought out sparklers and champagne, and they got well and truly plastered on it and Chinese food out on the ice as Lisa skated around, practicing her jumps as there was no one at free-skate that day to interfere, because it was Christmas and the only places open for miles around were the skating rink, the Chinese food place, and the Indian food place. Len had told him every year could be like this if he wanted, and he’d said yes.
It appeared when Mick’d applied to be Lisa’s next of kin should anything happen to Lenny.
It appeared when Mick’d decided to convert to Judaism and Len went through the options of synagogues in the area, and Mick had picked a nice Reform one with a rabbi who decided to be interested in the pyromania, instead of judgmental and horrified the way he was fearing he would be, who had tried to interest him in God with all the times God appeared as fire, which Mick had to say to a laughing so hard he was crying Len that that part of the Torah was definitely written by a pyromaniac, and then Len had momentarily had that utterly unguarded expression of trust.
It appeared when Mick’d gotten him that ring, the one Lenny had apparently worn for years even while they were apart, the one he’d slipped onto Mick before sacrificing himself and saving the timeline.
Mick wished it had been him. Or that Lenny had had advanced warning enough to come up with a plan. Which if he’d only had fifteen minutes, he could have found a way to do something with no one sacrificing themselves
Or that somehow, someway, they could go back and save him. Ice off his arm again maybe so the machine would still go off, because that was a thing he’d done to save Mick’s life apparently when Mick was Kronos.
Mick wanted to save Len’s life for once, so that they could observe the holidays again.
So he could see that unguarded grin, trust and affection again.
But the candle had burned out, proof that even in this place outside of time, time still found its bastard way to pass. So he got back into the jumpship and left the little stones on the Oculus as the nearest thing Len had to a grave. He hoped Len would be happy with the observance he’d given him and promised he’d come back the following year to observe Len’s yahrzeit again.