Work Text:
Liar, Liar...
"Are we just gonna pretend like none of this happened? That Mick Rory wasn't a part of our team?"
Shut up.
"Missing? Huh. Kind of like Rory."
Shut up!
"If you could just ice your best friend like that, I hate to think what you could do to us."
Shut up! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!
Len had wished so many times over the past few days that he could punch Boy Wonder in the mouth or shoot him with the cold gun, and now that he'd had the chance? He couldn't. It wouldn't matter though, the others already thought he was a cold-blooded murderer. Jax was just the only one who'd had the balls to say anything about it.
"I've grown so accustomed to our partnership, to suddenly be without him is disquieting."
"I know the feeling."
He felt Mick's absence like a gaping wound inside him. Didn't matter that his partner wasn't actually dead; he was gone and probably hated him. Either way, they couldn't be together right now. Len wondered if this was what Mick felt like when he saved his life back in juvie; a need to keep that spark of pride from being extinguished. Besides, they didn't need to lose yet another member of their team.
He aimed for the pipe.
The kid was going to be okay. That was good. But hero? Hah. Didn't matter what anyone said, he was no one's hero. A hero would have found a better way to save Mick.
Len sat by one of the Waverider's windows and looked out at the snowy landscape of backwards 1958. Normally he would be outside, relishing in the bite of Winter, but that was best enjoyed when he had a warm room to return to and an even warmer partner up whose shirt he could put his cold fingers. He was cold and bitter enough on his own right now, thanks.
He wraps his arms around himself, feeling like he would shatter into a million pieces if he didn't physically hold himself together. Now they considered Mick part of the team, when it didn't matter. No one but Jax had cared when they'd thought he'd put Mick down like a dog. He just wanted to leave this godforsaken era.
Then Jax came in and said something about him not being a monster. He was sorry, blah, blah, blah, part of a team, he didn't care. Len was almost glad when Stein came in and started chastising the kid, because he was once again seriously considering hitting him. He didn't care that he'd protected the team, what he cared about was that he couldn't save the one person who mattered. Let them think his heart was as cold as the rest of him. He'd had a team, now he didn't, please just stop talking about Mick and let him wallow in peace.
Which is of course why fucking Chronos had to attack right then. No rest for the wicked, etc.
They prided themselves on being observant, but none of them realized: his cold gun hadn't been set to automatically kill in a long time. Not since he'd made his deal with the Flash. The only person he'd killed since then was his father, and he didn't regret that.