He doesn't even look up at the irritated growl of words, eyes still on the blueprints he doesn't even need to look at any more because he's got it memorized. "If I was actually ignoring you, you'd know it." His voice isn't even colored in the annoyance it was seconds ago, more flat, and like it's an obvious stated fact.
Because there's little in the world as cold as Leonard when he actually freezes someone out. Which he isn't doing, currently. At least, not intentionally. It's just the way things are, always have been. Well. Close enough to always, at any rate.
And with that the bottle goes sailing to shatter against the far wall. As Leonard sinks more into cold distance Mick edges deeper into reckless rage. Fire. He doesn't have a steady presence to keep him grounded any longer because that presence doesn't seem to give a damn about more than the next job.
Some times, Mick needs more than a good heist. He needs touch. Heat. Out comes the lighter again, more and more often these last few years. Needing the fire to give him what Snart was unwilling or unable to anymore.
But even dragging his fingers through the flame isn't enough, the sear of pain not enough to cut through the anger. The dismissal.
Okay. Shattering glass gets his attention. In an extremely visceral, too-personal way. He knows it wasn't and would never be Mick's intention to shock him back to that house with that asshole, but some connections never fade, no matter how much time and distance has been put between a person and those things.
"What the fuck, Mick?" He spins away from the plans and stares at him, incredulous. He refuses to let the reaction he had on the inside show on the outside, but he can't ignore the hammering inside his own chest.
It had been impulse. Anger. Frustration. One of a dozen feelings he can't give voice to outside of violence these days. But even still, Mick would never deliberately try and shock Snart back to that house, no matter how angry and how hurt he might be.
His eyes don't leave the fire. "I ain't one of your weapons, boss," the bitterness nearly chokes him. "Can't use me for a job and shove me in a drawer until the next one and just expect me to sit here."
"I know that," He's already cutting in, their words overlapping as Mick continues. He remembers the days 'boss' had just been a joke, and he hates that it's become something else entirely. Just like everything else. His brain is often a helpful supplier like this. And he realizes that Mick's switch in the use of that word was just his reaction to everything Leonard had been doing and the distance he'd been shoving between them for years. But it didn't make it any easier to hear when they got like this.
Now, he's just on the defensive, arms folding across his chest, that incredulous look stuck on his face. "Really, Mick? I'm using you?" He scoffs and shakes his head. "You honestly think I only care about you when a job comes around?" He's glad the painful way that idea squeezes his heart doesn't make it into his voice. Does he really feel that way? Is that actually what Leonard's been doing, subconsciously, all this time? Or is it even subconscious? Maybe he just refuses to admit it to himself.
Oh no. No he doesn't get to play that kind of card after all this time and Mick snaps his lighter shut with a snarl. There had been a time when 'boss' had been a joke, laughter and teasing in bed and while Lenny was planning yet another job. But any more it was a reminder more to him than anyone - Snart was the boss. Bosses were leaders. Not partners.
"Think that's the only time you even notice I'm around." An angry wave in the direction of those plans. "Even then, I know what's more important." Plans. Pieces of paper. Not him.
It would be so much easier if he could just hate him for what they've become, even if Mick is just as complicit. He could have called him on his bullshit any number of times, but no. He gave. He let it slide. He let Leonard have what he needed, just like always.
His face screws up in a bastardization of that crinkly face Mick loves so much, full of annoyance instead of awkward embarrassment like its twin. "Oh, shut up. That's such bullshit and you know it!"
Those last words are what really kind of send him over the edge, though. Mick genuinely thinks that is more important than him? Leonard feels his heart drop to his stomach as that realization sinks in. Jesus, when had he fucked up this bad and not realized it?
Pain of that realization gets turned into anger because that's easier to deal with and hand out. "I don't know what you expect, Mick, this isn't exactly new."
No. That's not what he meant. That came out differently than it had existed in his head.
But he continues with the same train of words all the same. "You've known what you're in for, for decades at this point. Like, an entire two of them. No, I'm-- I'm not the kid who was head-over-heels--"
Lie.
"--but this is the way it's been for ten, twelve, years by now. Why are you acting like this isn't completely normal days before a heist?!"
Except that the problem is, it's extended so much further than that these days. And Leonard just doesn't see it.
He's not quite wired the same way Mick is, and even though he had, for a time, craved those things in a similar way, it had never really been at the same level Mick craved it. And when the novelty wore off, and his own issues crawled up to fill the empty spaces, it all just sort of fell into the background of everything else.
Mick is on his feet at the accusation, anger warring with hurt as Leonard throws absolutely everything back in his face. "Do I?" He snaps back. No, he doesn't know that it's bullshit because all Leonard does is move from one job to the next, always forward. Plans to study, timing to memorize and a thousand things that were more important than his partner.
Partner. Like that word had any meaning anymore. They weren't partners. Mick was just too stupidly loyal to up and leave and he hated himself for it, for still loving him when all Snart seemed to love was the thrill of the next job.
"This isn't the way it's been, ain't the way it's always been no matter how much you wanna lie to yourself." Because Snart may pretend that those years, those moments never happened but they are seared into Mick's mind and into his heart. It's why he can't leave.
"No. You ain't that kid anymore," and just admitting that threatens to shatter what was left of his heart. "Used to be a time partner meant something." He jams a finger in his direction. "You". Stabbing his finger into his own chest."Me. More than just job after job. More than you staring at plans you already know by heart and pushing me off like I'm a fuckin annoyance!"
"Well, if you don't, you should." Except the words come out a lot less crystal-like and a lot more flummoxed that he doesn't. How does he not? How does he not know Leonard better than this? To see through the parts about him that have changed and the parts that are awful to know that the only thing that matters to him besides his sister is Mick?
"...no matter how much you wanna lie to yourself."
What a bitter pill to be forced to swallow. How long had Leonard been doing exactly that, to try to make himself feel better about the things he said, choices he made? But he can't even say anything, form a coherent enough thought to make words exist outside of his head at all.
"Used to be a time partner meant something."
His chest is tight and his head is spinning and if he wasn't better at controlling himself, his breaths would be shaky and erratic, but it's not. It's harder to take a breathe than it should be, because his chest is squeezed tight, seized with panic that he can't even process. Because this? This is that thing he's feared more than Lewis, more than death. He's teetering on the edge of losing him and he doesn't know how to stop this avalanche he's started.
"It- I-- It does." He hates how hard it is to even get those two words out, and how many more he has to force himself through. "It stills means something." Everything. Mick is his world, and that's why he tries to control and micromanage everything he possibly can centered around him, and them as a unit. Because if he controls the situation, if Mick continues to let his loyalty rule him and allow him to fall into line, then he won't lose it. Lose him. That's...the twisted way he's justified everything he's done. But... it's starting to feel like it was all for a whole lot of nothing because all Leonard can see now is Mick walking out that door and not coming back and even the idea of it threatens to shatter him.
And if Mick wasn't so angry at being pushed aside, so hurt, he'd pick up on the swiftly mounting panic threatening to swamp Leonard. He was getting damned good at reading his cues because god forbid he ask for something that he needed.
How can he just know it when he's pushed aside like an annoyance? Even those years when all Leonard could offer was holding hands in the privacy of his crap apartment, when he couldn't even kiss him he could at least reassure him with a smile, with something more open. Now everything is closed off and every time Mick tries to look over those walls he risks getting shot at.
But Mick doesn't have it in him to leave. He never did. Just like every other time before he gives, he caves. Lets Leonard have what he needs because he's too loyal to do otherwise.
Mick spins and drops back to the couch, shoulders hunching as he flicks open the lighter and holds his palm just over the flame, just enough to sear at his skin. "Yeah. Sure. 'm nothing more than a pain in your ass now boss." His voice quiet, defeated. Not a partner. Sure as hell not a lover.
At least he can focus on the burn of the fire. "You won't even let me near you anymore."
Nothing about Mick's obvious defeat makes him feel any better or less panicked. Just because he didn't storm out the door this instant didn't mean it wasn't still on the horizon. And that possibility terrifies him.
But not enough to say it. Or anything that he should, that would maybe have a chance of making mick understand. Because he doesn't know how to do that anymore.
He blinks, hard, eyes following Mick's slumped form to the couch. Holding the lighter against his hand. But it's different than usual-- he's not just playing with it, he's actually letting it burn him. Leonard doesn't even think about it, he strides over and snaps the old zippo shut. "Stop." There's a genuine touch of concern in the request as he presses the lighter back against his palm, cool metal contrasting largely with the flame that was in his hand seconds ago. He doesn't want to be the reason Mick does this.
It wasn't the first time. Where Leonard needed to get lost in his own head, to hide behind walls and layers of ice, Mick needed to feel and if it couldn't be something as heady as the touch of the only person who meant a damn thing to him, it could be a lick of flame against his skin. Searing heat to burn away the feeling of loss.
He looks up at him as Leonard snaps the lighter shut, cuts off the heat. For an instant there's real concern in his voice and in his expression and it's.. confusing. Reassuring yes, but also a bit jarring given the way they'd been shouting at one another a minute ago.
Mick shoves the lighter back in his pocket. "I need it." It's a safe bet he doesn't only mean the lighter or the fire it gives him.
He looks away, waving absently to the table where Leonard had been working. "'m fine. Just.. go. Do your planning." He can let the heat of the fire dance along his fingertips or just watch it burn until the zippo ran out of fuel.
"I won't bug you again." Because that's what he had been doing, right? What had started all of this? Pushing for something when it was clear Leonard wasn't interested.
"I know," it's equally safe to assume Leonard is latching onto the lighter and not the rest of the underlying meanings there, too. "that's why I didn't take it." Just stopped him, for a second. Because this part of Mick genuinely scares him sometimes. Not in the way Lewis scares him, and not for himself, but for Mick. He knows there's this inherent part of Mick that needs the fire, and he's never really tried to get in the way of that. Except. When it means hurting himself, or someone else. Because there are some lines Leonard just can't stand by and watch him cross.
A part of him wants to argue it, to say no, he's not fine, and it's his own fault, but-- instead, he just lets his fingers trail against Mick's arm as he gets back to his feet and sinks back down in the chair he was at before. Not that he's looking at the papers in front of him now, but with his back to the other man, he can pretend.
Mick isn't sure if that brush of fingers against his arm makes things better or worse. But then Snart is gone, back to looking at his plans and Mick snaps the lighter open again. He doesn't hold his hand up to the flame this time. No, he just watches it, gets lost in the dance of light and heat until the lighter eventually sputters and dies.
He sleeps on the couch that night, because he can't get too close to Leonard without that need itching beneath his skin, that desperate touch-starved part of him clawing to the surface, making things harder on both of them.
The job, of course, goes off without a hitch. CCPD is left foundering as they get away with one hell of a rich haul. Money and enough gems to fence to keep them well in cash for months, if not longer. More than a few shopping sprees for Lisa in the future to be sure.
But Mick isn't much in the mood to celebrate. There's no rush of adrenaline, no chance that Leonard will want to share that rush with him like they did in those early days. Like Chicago.
He just sits on the ratty couch of their safehouse, ignoring the beer in front of him. Restlessly flicking his lighter. He's got a stack of money but who cares? Maybe he'll find some way to get it over to Becks and her work. At least do some good that way by taking care of his sister the way Leonard still takes care of his.
Truth told, Leonard isn't as into the celebratory part of things, either. He plays the part, like he does during any con, and the rest of the team is none the wiser. Eventually, the celebration dies down, everyone fans out and it's just the two of them again.
Leonard has been thinking about the fight since the night it happened, turning it over and over in his mind. Different things he could have done or said or ways he could have reacted better. None of it matters, because its damage is already done.
But maybe he could fix future damage of similar fights. Maybe.
"Not feeling tonight?" He asks, mostly as a conversational piece than anything else, because he had to say something in the silence that was threatening to make him go deaf in its wake. He drops into the chair nearest the side of the couch Mick is on. It isn't much, but it's something almost shaped like progress from three nights ago.
Mick knows he's playing a role, playing his part. Even sitting away from the celebration he can tell that Leonard's heart isn't in it either. Probably because he had to go and be a needy asshole a few days back.
So he sits back. Drinks. Doesn't say much until the rest of them wander off into the night and it's just him and Leonard again. Same as always, but different as hell too and it's those differences that leave Mick foundering because he can't quite figure it out. What he needs to be doing.
A grunt. A roll of his shoulder. "Not really." Because he's going to use his words, goddamnit. "Not in the mood."
Liar, liar Mick.
He isn't strong like Leonard. Can't bury himself behind walls and pretend that he doesn't get lonely, that he doesn't need something as simple as touch. But he's gonna try - for his partner. For what they used to be. For whatever they're going to be.
"Me either," he admits, tipping back the last of his beer and setting the bottle on the nearest flat surface. He's quiet awhile after that. Mostly trying to get his thoughts in a proper order and make the final decision of whether or not he could deal with this idea he's been sitting on in an attempt to solve this issue they're having more and more frequently.
He leans forward against his knees, a familiar stance that Mick has seen many times, and usually means he's preparing to try and discuss something uncomfortable. "What if I told you I have a potential solution to...this--" he waves one hand, not sure the word he's looking for. "Tactile problem." Great words, Leonard. A plus, really.
The thing about it is, there's absolutely no good way to breech this subject. No matter how hi me words it, he doubts the initial reaction he gets will be a good one.
"You want something that I..." he shrugs a little, "I can't give you as much as you want-- deserve." Because it's more than Mick just being uselessly needy, it's never been that. It's an imbalance between their needs. "But I think maybe we could...make a deal. About how to handle it."He hasn't even explained the whole thing, but he already feels something twist in his stomach.
He's not wrong. Mick wants more than Leonard can give him and it's been like that for a long time now and he's done his best to just deal with it. To still try and be a partner. To be his partner.
'Deserve' is an odd choice of words and he shifts a little, frown deepening because where Leonard is going with this Mick has no clue.
"A deal," he repeats slowly. "'m not following you here. What are you talking about?"
"I know," he mumbles; this was one leap he never expected Mick to make. He takes a slow, deep breath, trying to prepare himself for whatever reaction his next words might bring.
"What if..." He lets out a breath. "what if you...get that somewhere else?" A beat. "With someone else."
Mick goes still. Freezes. No. He doesn't want anyone else. He doesn't want to think about touching anyone else or being touched by them and for a moment his expression is raw and anguished with the thought he was being rejected.
Leonard had tried to anticipate a lot of various reactions, most landed somewhere on the realm of hurt or angry. But none of the imagined scenarios hit him in the gut the way that look on Mick's face is doing right now. He feels sick knowing he caused it in the first place; it doesn't matter that he'd started this from a place of trying to solve something for both of them, he's hurting him. He's hurting him and he wants to go back to ten minutes ago before he started this conversation and stop himself from causing this broken, raw look on his partner's face.
"I-" the whole thing has Leonard's world tilting, making him stumble in ways he rarely ever does. "I was jus- I'm trying to....help." that last word comes out almost in a whisper. It doesn't feel like helping when Mick is staring at him like that.
No. Mick can't do this. He can't. He can't be losing this, can he?
"Y'can't help by kicking me to the curb," he counters softly, still too stunned and hurt to even consider being angry at the rejection even though he's pretty certain that will bubble up at some point.
"You don't want it. Me. I get it. But don't.. " A shaky hand drags across his face. He won't beg.
"What?" He frowns, confused for a few more beats than he would have liked. Where did that even come from? He never said--
"Oh." Another beat, and then he's shaking his head, "No, Mick, I- that's not-"
The world isn't just tilted anymore, it's spinning completely off its axis and he can't breathe. His chest is tight, his hands are clenched into fists, nails digging into his palm. It's rare he gets out of control at all, and even more so that he spins into an absolute panic, but this is absolutely one of those moments. He can feel it swimming in his head, and in his veins and it's only his nails digging into his hand that keeps him from completely spiraling out.
His next words are managed, barely, through clenched teeth. "I'm not...kicking you to the curb, Mick. I'm...giving you permission to seek extra resources." As he continues, it gets easier until there's just a flood of words pouring out of him. "I want you, I just- this isn't something I can give you. Not...like I should. Not like you need. So for this...someone else can...fill in. But--" something in his face falls, and his voice drops. "you'll always come home to me..."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2018-02-05 03:25 pm (UTC)Because there's little in the world as cold as Leonard when he actually freezes someone out. Which he isn't doing, currently. At least, not intentionally. It's just the way things are, always have been. Well. Close enough to always, at any rate.
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Date: 2018-02-05 03:37 pm (UTC)Some times, Mick needs more than a good heist.
He needs touch. Heat.
Out comes the lighter again, more and more often these last few years. Needing the fire to give him what Snart was unwilling or unable to anymore.
But even dragging his fingers through the flame isn't enough, the sear of pain not enough to cut through the anger. The dismissal.
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Date: 2018-02-05 03:46 pm (UTC)"What the fuck, Mick?" He spins away from the plans and stares at him, incredulous. He refuses to let the reaction he had on the inside show on the outside, but he can't ignore the hammering inside his own chest.
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Date: 2018-02-05 03:51 pm (UTC)His eyes don't leave the fire.
"I ain't one of your weapons, boss," the bitterness nearly chokes him. "Can't use me for a job and shove me in a drawer until the next one and just expect me to sit here."
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Date: 2018-02-05 04:08 pm (UTC)Now, he's just on the defensive, arms folding across his chest, that incredulous look stuck on his face. "Really, Mick? I'm using you?" He scoffs and shakes his head. "You honestly think I only care about you when a job comes around?" He's glad the painful way that idea squeezes his heart doesn't make it into his voice. Does he really feel that way? Is that actually what Leonard's been doing, subconsciously, all this time? Or is it even subconscious? Maybe he just refuses to admit it to himself.
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Date: 2018-02-05 04:28 pm (UTC)There had been a time when 'boss' had been a joke, laughter and teasing in bed and while Lenny was planning yet another job. But any more it was a reminder more to him than anyone - Snart was the boss. Bosses were leaders.
Not partners.
"Think that's the only time you even notice I'm around." An angry wave in the direction of those plans. "Even then, I know what's more important." Plans. Pieces of paper. Not him.
It would be so much easier if he could just hate him for what they've become, even if Mick is just as complicit. He could have called him on his bullshit any number of times, but no. He gave. He let it slide. He let Leonard have what he needed, just like always.
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Date: 2018-02-05 04:43 pm (UTC)Those last words are what really kind of send him over the edge, though. Mick genuinely thinks that is more important than him? Leonard feels his heart drop to his stomach as that realization sinks in. Jesus, when had he fucked up this bad and not realized it?
Pain of that realization gets turned into anger because that's easier to deal with and hand out. "I don't know what you expect, Mick, this isn't exactly new."
No.
That's not what he meant.
That came out differently than it had existed in his head.
But he continues with the same train of words all the same. "You've known what you're in for, for decades at this point. Like, an entire two of them. No, I'm-- I'm not the kid who was head-over-heels--"
Lie.
"--but this is the way it's been for ten, twelve, years by now. Why are you acting like this isn't completely normal days before a heist?!"
Except that the problem is, it's extended so much further than that these days. And Leonard just doesn't see it.
He's not quite wired the same way Mick is, and even though he had, for a time, craved those things in a similar way, it had never really been at the same level Mick craved it. And when the novelty wore off, and his own issues crawled up to fill the empty spaces, it all just sort of fell into the background of everything else.
Ding ding, sound that bell
Date: 2018-02-05 04:58 pm (UTC)Partner.
Like that word had any meaning anymore. They weren't partners. Mick was just too stupidly loyal to up and leave and he hated himself for it, for still loving him when all Snart seemed to love was the thrill of the next job.
"This isn't the way it's been, ain't the way it's always been no matter how much you wanna lie to yourself." Because Snart may pretend that those years, those moments never happened but they are seared into Mick's mind and into his heart.
It's why he can't leave.
"No. You ain't that kid anymore," and just admitting that threatens to shatter what was left of his heart. "Used to be a time partner meant something." He jams a finger in his direction. "You". Stabbing his finger into his own chest."Me. More than just job after job. More than you staring at plans you already know by heart and pushing me off like I'm a fuckin annoyance!"
Not now Mick.
Stop it.
Go to bed Mick.
He's not sure how much more of this he can take.
sobs forever whyyyyy thiiiiiiis
Date: 2018-02-05 05:27 pm (UTC)"...no matter how much you wanna lie to yourself."
What a bitter pill to be forced to swallow. How long had Leonard been doing exactly that, to try to make himself feel better about the things he said, choices he made? But he can't even say anything, form a coherent enough thought to make words exist outside of his head at all.
"Used to be a time partner meant something."
His chest is tight and his head is spinning and if he wasn't better at controlling himself, his breaths would be shaky and erratic, but it's not. It's harder to take a breathe than it should be, because his chest is squeezed tight, seized with panic that he can't even process. Because this? This is that thing he's feared more than Lewis, more than death. He's teetering on the edge of losing him and he doesn't know how to stop this avalanche he's started.
"It- I-- It does." He hates how hard it is to even get those two words out, and how many more he has to force himself through. "It stills means something." Everything. Mick is his world, and that's why he tries to control and micromanage everything he possibly can centered around him, and them as a unit. Because if he controls the situation, if Mick continues to let his loyalty rule him and allow him to fall into line, then he won't lose it. Lose him. That's...the twisted way he's justified everything he's done. But... it's starting to feel like it was all for a whole lot of nothing because all Leonard can see now is Mick walking out that door and not coming back and even the idea of it threatens to shatter him.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-05 05:48 pm (UTC)How can he just know it when he's pushed aside like an annoyance? Even those years when all Leonard could offer was holding hands in the privacy of his crap apartment, when he couldn't even kiss him he could at least reassure him with a smile, with something more open. Now everything is closed off and every time Mick tries to look over those walls he risks getting shot at.
But Mick doesn't have it in him to leave.
He never did.
Just like every other time before he gives, he caves. Lets Leonard have what he needs because he's too loyal to do otherwise.
Mick spins and drops back to the couch, shoulders hunching as he flicks open the lighter and holds his palm just over the flame, just enough to sear at his skin. "Yeah. Sure. 'm nothing more than a pain in your ass now boss." His voice quiet, defeated. Not a partner. Sure as hell not a lover.
At least he can focus on the burn of the fire. "You won't even let me near you anymore."
no subject
Date: 2018-02-05 06:04 pm (UTC)But not enough to say it.
Or anything that he should, that would maybe have a chance of making mick understand.
Because he doesn't know how to do that anymore.
He blinks, hard, eyes following Mick's slumped form to the couch. Holding the lighter against his hand. But it's different than usual-- he's not just playing with it, he's actually letting it burn him. Leonard doesn't even think about it, he strides over and snaps the old zippo shut. "Stop." There's a genuine touch of concern in the request as he presses the lighter back against his palm, cool metal contrasting largely with the flame that was in his hand seconds ago. He doesn't want to be the reason Mick does this.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-05 06:20 pm (UTC)Where Leonard needed to get lost in his own head, to hide behind walls and layers of ice, Mick needed to feel and if it couldn't be something as heady as the touch of the only person who meant a damn thing to him, it could be a lick of flame against his skin. Searing heat to burn away the feeling of loss.
He looks up at him as Leonard snaps the lighter shut, cuts off the heat. For an instant there's real concern in his voice and in his expression and it's.. confusing. Reassuring yes, but also a bit jarring given the way they'd been shouting at one another a minute ago.
Mick shoves the lighter back in his pocket. "I need it." It's a safe bet he doesn't only mean the lighter or the fire it gives him.
He looks away, waving absently to the table where Leonard had been working. "'m fine. Just.. go. Do your planning." He can let the heat of the fire dance along his fingertips or just watch it burn until the zippo ran out of fuel.
"I won't bug you again." Because that's what he had been doing, right? What had started all of this? Pushing for something when it was clear Leonard wasn't interested.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-05 07:29 pm (UTC)A part of him wants to argue it, to say no, he's not fine, and it's his own fault, but-- instead, he just lets his fingers trail against Mick's arm as he gets back to his feet and sinks back down in the chair he was at before. Not that he's looking at the papers in front of him now, but with his back to the other man, he can pretend.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-05 07:46 pm (UTC)But then Snart is gone, back to looking at his plans and Mick snaps the lighter open again. He doesn't hold his hand up to the flame this time. No, he just watches it, gets lost in the dance of light and heat until the lighter eventually sputters and dies.
He sleeps on the couch that night, because he can't get too close to Leonard without that need itching beneath his skin, that desperate touch-starved part of him clawing to the surface, making things harder on both of them.
The job, of course, goes off without a hitch.
CCPD is left foundering as they get away with one hell of a rich haul. Money and enough gems to fence to keep them well in cash for months, if not longer. More than a few shopping sprees for Lisa in the future to be sure.
But Mick isn't much in the mood to celebrate. There's no rush of adrenaline, no chance that Leonard will want to share that rush with him like they did in those early days. Like Chicago.
He just sits on the ratty couch of their safehouse, ignoring the beer in front of him. Restlessly flicking his lighter. He's got a stack of money but who cares? Maybe he'll find some way to get it over to Becks and her work. At least do some good that way by taking care of his sister the way Leonard still takes care of his.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-05 08:42 pm (UTC)Leonard has been thinking about the fight since the night it happened, turning it over and over in his mind. Different things he could have done or said or ways he could have reacted better. None of it matters, because its damage is already done.
But maybe he could fix future damage of similar fights.
Maybe.
"Not feeling tonight?" He asks, mostly as a conversational piece than anything else, because he had to say something in the silence that was threatening to make him go deaf in its wake. He drops into the chair nearest the side of the couch Mick is on. It isn't much, but it's something almost shaped like progress from three nights ago.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-05 09:03 pm (UTC)So he sits back. Drinks. Doesn't say much until the rest of them wander off into the night and it's just him and Leonard again. Same as always, but different as hell too and it's those differences that leave Mick foundering because he can't quite figure it out. What he needs to be doing.
A grunt. A roll of his shoulder. "Not really." Because he's going to use his words, goddamnit. "Not in the mood."
Liar, liar Mick.
He isn't strong like Leonard. Can't bury himself behind walls and pretend that he doesn't get lonely, that he doesn't need something as simple as touch.
But he's gonna try - for his partner. For what they used to be. For whatever they're going to be.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-05 10:03 pm (UTC)He leans forward against his knees, a familiar stance that Mick has seen many times, and usually means he's preparing to try and discuss something uncomfortable. "What if I told you I have a potential solution to...this--" he waves one hand, not sure the word he's looking for. "Tactile problem." Great words, Leonard. A plus, really.
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Date: 2018-02-05 10:50 pm (UTC)"What problem?" Because he's not quite following. What he needs Leonard can't give and he's just got to deal with it. Right?
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Date: 2018-02-06 12:24 am (UTC)"You want something that I..." he shrugs a little, "I can't give you as much as you want-- deserve." Because it's more than Mick just being uselessly needy, it's never been that. It's an imbalance between their needs. "But I think maybe we could...make a deal. About how to handle it."He hasn't even explained the whole thing, but he already feels something twist in his stomach.
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Date: 2018-02-21 05:53 pm (UTC)Mick wants more than Leonard can give him and it's been like that for a long time now and he's done his best to just deal with it. To still try and be a partner. To be his partner.
'Deserve' is an odd choice of words and he shifts a little, frown deepening because where Leonard is going with this Mick has no clue.
"A deal," he repeats slowly. "'m not following you here. What are you talking about?"
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Date: 2018-02-22 12:22 am (UTC)"What if..." He lets out a breath. "what if you...get that somewhere else?" A beat. "With someone else."
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Date: 2018-02-22 12:31 am (UTC)Mick goes still. Freezes.
No. He doesn't want anyone else. He doesn't want to think about touching anyone else or being touched by them and for a moment his expression is raw and anguished with the thought he was being rejected.
"No. No I don't want anyone else. No."
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Date: 2018-02-22 12:56 am (UTC)"I-" the whole thing has Leonard's world tilting, making him stumble in ways he rarely ever does. "I was jus- I'm trying to....help." that last word comes out almost in a whisper. It doesn't feel like helping when Mick is staring at him like that.
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Date: 2018-02-22 01:35 am (UTC)Mick can't do this. He can't. He can't be losing this, can he?
"Y'can't help by kicking me to the curb," he counters softly, still too stunned and hurt to even consider being angry at the rejection even though he's pretty certain that will bubble up at some point.
"You don't want it. Me. I get it. But don't.. " A shaky hand drags across his face. He won't beg.
I can't handle this, abort abort abort.
Date: 2018-02-22 03:22 am (UTC)"Oh." Another beat, and then he's shaking his head, "No, Mick, I- that's not-"
The world isn't just tilted anymore, it's spinning completely off its axis and he can't breathe. His chest is tight, his hands are clenched into fists, nails digging into his palm. It's rare he gets out of control at all, and even more so that he spins into an absolute panic, but this is absolutely one of those moments. He can feel it swimming in his head, and in his veins and it's only his nails digging into his hand that keeps him from completely spiraling out.
His next words are managed, barely, through clenched teeth. "I'm not...kicking you to the curb, Mick. I'm...giving you permission to seek extra resources." As he continues, it gets easier until there's just a flood of words pouring out of him. "I want you, I just- this isn't something I can give you. Not...like I should. Not like you need. So for this...someone else can...fill in. But--" something in his face falls, and his voice drops. "you'll always come home to me..."
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