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I'm getting real tired of getting dumped in strange places against my will. I don't like it.

[There's a low, dangerous growl of disapproval and the expression on Mick's face is not a pretty one. It's somewhat reminiscent of an angry bull. This was the second time in God knows how many days that Mick Rory has found himself stranded somewhere new and different, unsure what the hell is happening. It's not a good feeling. It didn't inspire much good will.

Though this is a definite improvement over the last place. For one, there's food. For another, he gets a free smart phone to yell at people over and voice his anger. Not bad. Though he did kind of think they went a little overboard with the white. What was with all the decorations anyway? This better not be like some low rent Christmas Town cause honestly, that sounded a lot like hell.]

You got five minutes to convince me not to torch this place to the ground cause I ain't in the mood to play nice right now. Somebody start talking. [The words come out as an angry snarl, teeth barred. He's not a happy bunny.]

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Don't think I'll have to, now that you're here.

[It's often a curse to have a good memory, but in this case it goes further than that. Burned into his mind, how appropriate. He hears it now, Mick's voice and Chronos' infliction.

I'm not gonna kill you.
I'm gonna take a trip back to Central City and visit your baby sister.
The beautiful thing about time travel is I get to kill her more than once.
I can kill Lisa in front of you, go back in time, kill her in front of you again and again and again.

This Mick isn't there yet and Maya isn't Lisa and he knows that, but for once rationale has taken a backseat.]

Just leave her alone.

I haven't done nothing. What do you take me for?

[There's a pause. The smile on his face is bitter, almost sad. It's there, clearer than before, when they last spoke. There's hurt and pain radiating from him as he grits his teeth and sucks in a deep breath.]

Oh. Right. Cause I'm a criminal, huh? Cause I'm dangerous. A no-good thief.

[There's a beat.] And that ain't you any more, is it? You fancy yourself a big hero these days, don't you? You'll stab anyone in the back to get there.

Neither of us is any good, Mick. Do I really gotta bring up time pirates?

[He'd rather not. For one thing, he blames himself for that one too. For another, any argument becomes ridiculous once you mention something like time pirates.

But this isn't ridiculous. This is raw and painful and hurts more than the bruises Mick left on him before.]

We've been over this.

Bring them up. I never claimed to be anything better, you did. You decided you above me when you abandoned me in the MIDDLE OF FUCKING NOWHERE TO DIE.

[He yells those words, knowing it's probably a little immature but he feels like he's warranted immature right now.]

You think cause we had a fight it's over? We've been over nothing. You just got a pummelling.

Fine.

[It's not fine. He's not fine and they're not fine and he can't even begin to explain that to Mick. Not that Mick would listen and not that he wants him to understand. He will, eventually.]

Just keep taking it out on me before you hurt yourself.

Like you even care.

[He growls lightly, trying to pretend he can't feel a thing because fuck, it's just easier not to sometimes.]

Stop pretending. It's getting old.

[Instead of stopping, Leonard starts to pretend, which means rolling his eyes as if he's not broken inside.]

Then stop whining.

Stop butting into everything I'm doing.

[He's had enough of Leonard Snart for one day.]

['Stop being a butt.' is a bit too first grade, so he refrains.]

Trust me. I wanna stay out of your way.

[It huts. Leonard meant so much to him, he was his partner - his best friend - and now being near him was too much. Too painful. And yet being away from him was the same. There was no winning here.]

Good. Make sure you do.

[He may not be best buddies with either of them, but he knows one thing, beyond all doubt: Leonard Snart and Mick Rory are--were?--best friends. The undeniable, always-there-for-each-other kind of friends he and Barry are. And this? What he's piecing together, here? Is making no sense.]

What the fuck happened between you two? [It's not his business, he knows that, and he doesn't even expect a real answer, but it's worth the ask at this point.]

[His current state of being mostly bruises speaks for itself in many ways, but he's not really bothering to hide it. Not a chance of that anyway.]

I made some mistakes.

[A beat.]

Seems to be taking it personally.

Big ones, apparently. [His eyebrows both arch toward his hairline.

He motions, vaguely, to his own eye.] You should probably...ice that.

[His lips quirk a little, but he's not feeling it.]

Thanks for the tip, kid.

[It's stupid. The way it even matters or makes anything tug in the back of his mind. Something from a world away that had never even been real, but he carried it all with him like it was, didn't he?

He wants to say something, but he wouldn't know what it should be if he did. Knows he can't be like that with someone like Leonard anyway. Even a simple 'you know where to find me' doesn't fit because it's not like he'd ever dream of taking him up on the offer at all. So instead, he just settles on a nod in his direction before he disconnects.]

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