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ajremixI haven't seen the episode so caveat.
Title: Future in Our Hands
Fandom: DC TV
Rating: PG
Word Count: 817
Characters: Len, Mick
Summary: Mid-Doomworld. Because so many people want a patch.
"You know, you're being rather mopey for being reunited with your partner and having half a city at your command." Mick grunts, not looking up at Len, leaning against the doorway like a cat. Lips pressing in a half-cautious, half-annoyed line, Len makes his way in with an air of disinterest despite not having Mick's direct attention. "C'mon, Mick. It's a reality where criminals rule, what's not to like?"
"What happened to the challenge," he asks, voice a low rumble. "Wasn't that why you wouldn't let me stay in 2046?"
Len's brow furrows momentarily, the way it does whenever Mick references something he'd done with Len's future self. Alternate self. Whatever it was. The point was Len didn't like not understanding Mick's references. "I wouldn't know."
"Star City burnt down, ruled by gangs. No police, no laws, just everyone following the strongest and no one but a boy with a bow trying to stop them. But you didn't want to stay. Said it was too easy- no challenge, no thrill. Didn't think there was a point." Mick turns to him, eyes hard but face weary. "Where's the challenge here now that Flash all the heroes are gone? When the cops let us do what we want? What's the point?"
Len's shoulder's pull into a rigid line, lips pulled back in distaste at the reminder. "The point is we're both alive and you're my partner instead of someone's lobotomized attack dog." That gets Mick to flinch and Len nearly bites his lip seeing it. Mick mumbles something and Len says, "Didn't catch that."
"I said you gotta let me go."
Len rears back like he's been slapped. "Why?"
"Because you hate being controlled. You hate not being the one in control. And if that speedster is a fraction the bastard I know he is, he's using me to keep you in place." Like Lewis used Lisa, Mick doesn't say but the parallels are clear. "If you let me go, it won't be a problem anymore."
"No, he'll just use my own existence against me. Since I'm going to be in this situation anyway, I'd rather have someone I trust at my back." Len steps around until he's in front of Mick, studying him. "You hate this."
Mick snorts. "So do you."
"...you feeling up for a heist?" At the suspicious glare, Len huffs in amusement. "A real one."
For the first time in a while, a spark of life enters Mick's eyes. "You want the thing."
"Like you said, I don't like not being in control. You assemble a crew, make a little distraction, and I'll do the maneuvering."
"The others will get suspicious."
"Not if we play it like Costa Rica." An explosive but fake fallout, so they can play both sides.
Mick makes a face. Not the kind he makes when he's being obstinate but the kind that comes only when he doesn't know how much more he can endure. The way his eyes immediately drop makes Len bristle on his behalf. "I don't like that play."
And Len can certainly bet why. He reaches out, wraps a hand around the back of his partner's neck and pulls him in so they're forehead to forehead. "It's not real. Whatever I may say to you, I don't think it for real. Do you believe that, Mick?"
"Yeah," his voice is still quiet and Mick still isn't quite looking at him, "I know. But I don't know if I can take hearing it from you."
"I'll make it up to you. Second honeymoon. I'll take you to see the Door to Hell like you've been wanting. Or we can go out to some tiny island where you can spend all day playing in the surf and sand and every night I'll take you apart." He slides his hands until they're cupping Mick's face, quietly coaxing him to look at Len. "Or we'll do something else. Whatever you want to do, Mick."
"I want Lisa acting like a spoiled brat. And you being an obnoxious know-it-all, talking over shitty movies. And the three of us fighting for space on a couch with beer and popcorn." Mick's hands grip Len's wrists, tight where they aren't trembling. "I want to curl up in bed with you and forget the rest of the world exists."
"You'll get it," Len promises, "all of it." He leans up to kiss Mick's forehead. "But first we have to get through this, okay?"
Mick sighs and Len is so tempted to write the Legends out of existence for letting Mick get this bad. "Okay."
His phone goes off again and Len already knows it's another summon. He pulls back from Mick, "Looks like we've got to get this show on the road. I'll see you on the other side, Mick. Promise."
"Yeah, partner," he says, dredging up what little endurance he has left, "see you there."
Title: Future in Our Hands
Fandom: DC TV
Rating: PG
Word Count: 817
Characters: Len, Mick
Summary: Mid-Doomworld. Because so many people want a patch.
"You know, you're being rather mopey for being reunited with your partner and having half a city at your command." Mick grunts, not looking up at Len, leaning against the doorway like a cat. Lips pressing in a half-cautious, half-annoyed line, Len makes his way in with an air of disinterest despite not having Mick's direct attention. "C'mon, Mick. It's a reality where criminals rule, what's not to like?"
"What happened to the challenge," he asks, voice a low rumble. "Wasn't that why you wouldn't let me stay in 2046?"
Len's brow furrows momentarily, the way it does whenever Mick references something he'd done with Len's future self. Alternate self. Whatever it was. The point was Len didn't like not understanding Mick's references. "I wouldn't know."
"Star City burnt down, ruled by gangs. No police, no laws, just everyone following the strongest and no one but a boy with a bow trying to stop them. But you didn't want to stay. Said it was too easy- no challenge, no thrill. Didn't think there was a point." Mick turns to him, eyes hard but face weary. "Where's the challenge here now that Flash all the heroes are gone? When the cops let us do what we want? What's the point?"
Len's shoulder's pull into a rigid line, lips pulled back in distaste at the reminder. "The point is we're both alive and you're my partner instead of someone's lobotomized attack dog." That gets Mick to flinch and Len nearly bites his lip seeing it. Mick mumbles something and Len says, "Didn't catch that."
"I said you gotta let me go."
Len rears back like he's been slapped. "Why?"
"Because you hate being controlled. You hate not being the one in control. And if that speedster is a fraction the bastard I know he is, he's using me to keep you in place." Like Lewis used Lisa, Mick doesn't say but the parallels are clear. "If you let me go, it won't be a problem anymore."
"No, he'll just use my own existence against me. Since I'm going to be in this situation anyway, I'd rather have someone I trust at my back." Len steps around until he's in front of Mick, studying him. "You hate this."
Mick snorts. "So do you."
"...you feeling up for a heist?" At the suspicious glare, Len huffs in amusement. "A real one."
For the first time in a while, a spark of life enters Mick's eyes. "You want the thing."
"Like you said, I don't like not being in control. You assemble a crew, make a little distraction, and I'll do the maneuvering."
"The others will get suspicious."
"Not if we play it like Costa Rica." An explosive but fake fallout, so they can play both sides.
Mick makes a face. Not the kind he makes when he's being obstinate but the kind that comes only when he doesn't know how much more he can endure. The way his eyes immediately drop makes Len bristle on his behalf. "I don't like that play."
And Len can certainly bet why. He reaches out, wraps a hand around the back of his partner's neck and pulls him in so they're forehead to forehead. "It's not real. Whatever I may say to you, I don't think it for real. Do you believe that, Mick?"
"Yeah," his voice is still quiet and Mick still isn't quite looking at him, "I know. But I don't know if I can take hearing it from you."
"I'll make it up to you. Second honeymoon. I'll take you to see the Door to Hell like you've been wanting. Or we can go out to some tiny island where you can spend all day playing in the surf and sand and every night I'll take you apart." He slides his hands until they're cupping Mick's face, quietly coaxing him to look at Len. "Or we'll do something else. Whatever you want to do, Mick."
"I want Lisa acting like a spoiled brat. And you being an obnoxious know-it-all, talking over shitty movies. And the three of us fighting for space on a couch with beer and popcorn." Mick's hands grip Len's wrists, tight where they aren't trembling. "I want to curl up in bed with you and forget the rest of the world exists."
"You'll get it," Len promises, "all of it." He leans up to kiss Mick's forehead. "But first we have to get through this, okay?"
Mick sighs and Len is so tempted to write the Legends out of existence for letting Mick get this bad. "Okay."
His phone goes off again and Len already knows it's another summon. He pulls back from Mick, "Looks like we've got to get this show on the road. I'll see you on the other side, Mick. Promise."
"Yeah, partner," he says, dredging up what little endurance he has left, "see you there."
