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[drabble][DC TV, Len, Sarah, PG] I Can't Separate Your Sins
YOU KNOW WHAT’S A GREAT IDEA? DECIDING AN HOUR AFTER I WAS SUPPOSED TO GO TO BED TO WATCH THE NEW LEGENDS EPISODE.
Title: I Can't Separate Your Sins
Fandom: DC TV
Rating: PG
Word Count: 616
Characters: Len, Sara
Summary: Title from Tangled Up by Caro Emerald. Post episode 6. Len has a long-needed talk.
Sara was grateful she wasn't needed for this stage of the mission because she had one of her own to focus on, somewhere in the unused bowels of the ship pretending that he wasn't simultaneously sulking or avoiding someone else in another section of unused bowel. Len was propped up in a corner, arms wrapped around himself, legs crossed at the ankle, staring at nothing.
"Looks like something surgically removed Mick from your hip."
"Good thing, too," his drawl was more of a snarl. "He was a pain in my ass."
Even sulking he couldn't pass up a chance for a pun. "What happened."
His jaw clenched, like he was chewing over words before deciding to be honest. "It got bad."
If there was anyone else on the ship that understood that, it was Sara. "How bad?"
A roll of his eyes finally had Len turning toward her. "Bad enough you saw me knock him out."
"Has it gotten this bad before?"
"Occasionally." His jaw twitched again. "Rarely. I could usually curb it before he got this far gone."
"You think going after Savage triggered it quicker than you could defuse?"
"Most likely. His only real outlet since we joined up has been fighting." Which could just as likely become a feedback loop. Sara had seen more than one person go through that in the League. From the way Len's hand tightened over his elbow he was cursing the fact he hadn't considered that possibility. "He's no attack dog. The only reason I could reign him in-"
"Is because he gave you that ability to keep him from getting in too deep. And now he took it away from you." It was a power struggle between them now, the mission calling Mick over the edge and Len desperately trying to navigate him back. And the rest of the team stuck between them. "What happened the last time it got this bad?"
"He nearly burned himself alive."
"What did you do?"
Len's voice tightened and Sara could've sworn his eyes were wet. "I abandoned him. I left him burned and bloodied for the cops to pick up. Because he was too unstable, too dangerous for me to trust." His words went rough and uneven, all torn self-loathing like he was ripping his own heart out for Sara to see. "Then I gave him that gun and I brought him here. Because he was useful." She went up to him, just enough to bump their shoulders together and when Len looked at her she could see the edges of his eyes verged on red and there were teethmarks on his lower lip from gnawing on it. He looked lost and far younger than she could have imagined and she couldn't even guess what it cost him to admit, "I don't know what to do."
She bumped their shoulders together again, mainly to buy herself time to find her own words. "Telling someone's a start. You don't have to do this alone. You have friends here, you know."
"No one can stop him. Not when he's like this."
"I'm not going to give up on him." She tilted her head, trying to catch Len's eye, searching for even the faintest glimmer. "And I doubt you will, either. If he was really a lost cause, you wouldn't have gone back for him after last time. You wouldn't have brought him back on the ship."
"I could've trapped us here with him."
"He's not an animal. We can still help him. You, me, the others- we're not giving up on Mick."
Len turned to her and Sara could see it, under the resignation and despair- a tiny, fragile spark of hope.
Title: I Can't Separate Your Sins
Fandom: DC TV
Rating: PG
Word Count: 616
Characters: Len, Sara
Summary: Title from Tangled Up by Caro Emerald. Post episode 6. Len has a long-needed talk.
Sara was grateful she wasn't needed for this stage of the mission because she had one of her own to focus on, somewhere in the unused bowels of the ship pretending that he wasn't simultaneously sulking or avoiding someone else in another section of unused bowel. Len was propped up in a corner, arms wrapped around himself, legs crossed at the ankle, staring at nothing.
"Looks like something surgically removed Mick from your hip."
"Good thing, too," his drawl was more of a snarl. "He was a pain in my ass."
Even sulking he couldn't pass up a chance for a pun. "What happened."
His jaw clenched, like he was chewing over words before deciding to be honest. "It got bad."
If there was anyone else on the ship that understood that, it was Sara. "How bad?"
A roll of his eyes finally had Len turning toward her. "Bad enough you saw me knock him out."
"Has it gotten this bad before?"
"Occasionally." His jaw twitched again. "Rarely. I could usually curb it before he got this far gone."
"You think going after Savage triggered it quicker than you could defuse?"
"Most likely. His only real outlet since we joined up has been fighting." Which could just as likely become a feedback loop. Sara had seen more than one person go through that in the League. From the way Len's hand tightened over his elbow he was cursing the fact he hadn't considered that possibility. "He's no attack dog. The only reason I could reign him in-"
"Is because he gave you that ability to keep him from getting in too deep. And now he took it away from you." It was a power struggle between them now, the mission calling Mick over the edge and Len desperately trying to navigate him back. And the rest of the team stuck between them. "What happened the last time it got this bad?"
"He nearly burned himself alive."
"What did you do?"
Len's voice tightened and Sara could've sworn his eyes were wet. "I abandoned him. I left him burned and bloodied for the cops to pick up. Because he was too unstable, too dangerous for me to trust." His words went rough and uneven, all torn self-loathing like he was ripping his own heart out for Sara to see. "Then I gave him that gun and I brought him here. Because he was useful." She went up to him, just enough to bump their shoulders together and when Len looked at her she could see the edges of his eyes verged on red and there were teethmarks on his lower lip from gnawing on it. He looked lost and far younger than she could have imagined and she couldn't even guess what it cost him to admit, "I don't know what to do."
She bumped their shoulders together again, mainly to buy herself time to find her own words. "Telling someone's a start. You don't have to do this alone. You have friends here, you know."
"No one can stop him. Not when he's like this."
"I'm not going to give up on him." She tilted her head, trying to catch Len's eye, searching for even the faintest glimmer. "And I doubt you will, either. If he was really a lost cause, you wouldn't have gone back for him after last time. You wouldn't have brought him back on the ship."
"I could've trapped us here with him."
"He's not an animal. We can still help him. You, me, the others- we're not giving up on Mick."
Len turned to her and Sara could see it, under the resignation and despair- a tiny, fragile spark of hope.