Chapter Text
Disclaimer: Mick belongs to Len. Or maybe Len belongs to Mick. All I know is they don't belong to me.
~~~~~~~~~~
It had been a month since Mick had rejoined the team and almost six weeks since there was any word on Savage.
After 1958 Vandal Savage seemed to have vanished again, so all they could do was wait for something to pop up on Gideon's 'radar'.
After half his crew had been stranded for two years (to them, but a few days to the rest of the team) Rip felt he owed them all favors.
Len didn't want anything; he had Mick back.
As to the others, Rip had been terrified as to what they would ask for, but strangely enough, their requests had been simple.
Sara wanted to visit the North Pole and sleep in an igloo.
Rip nearly asked why but thought better of it; instead he just made it happen.
Ray wanted to see the Apollo 11 launch in 1969 as they took off for the moon.
No problem there; the entire team enjoyed it.
Kendra wanted a trip to her favorite bakery, which she hadn't been to since she was a teenager in West Virginia, before her family moved to Central City. She missed their pies.
Which was where they were now - January 23rd (Kendra's birthday) in the year 1970, because Rip wanted no chance of her running into herself.
"I want to go with you." Mick glared at all of them.
"We're just going to get snacks, Mick," Len told him. "The Professor is sick and needs somebody to watch out for him, and this means you."
"Is this some form of probation because of Chronos?" Mick asked, directing the question at everyone. "It is, isn't it? I don't get to go on a mission again until when?"
"This is not a mission," Rip told him. "We're going to a bakery."
"Then why can't I go?" Mick asked again.
"Okay," Ray said with his usual honest demeanor, "it's because you're on probation."
Len got in the way of Mick charging at Ray. "Mick, we talked about what happened and even you agreed on some down time."
"For how long? It's been a month!" Mick stared at him. "I'm not a damn babysitter."
"Mick...."
"Fuck off." Mick stormed from the bridge.
"Wait here," Len told them. "I'll be right back." He went after Mick and turned him so they were facing. "Like I said, you agreed to this."
"I agreed to a lot of things, Snart. Like moving back into your room." Mick was fuming. "But every time I try to touch you, you back off like I've got some kind of disease."
"Mick, we're sleeping together again; that should tell you something."
"Yeah, sleeping - with a capital 'S'."
They were arguing in front of Martin's quarters and the professor was being treated to an earful.
"What do you want from me, Mick?"
"I'd be happy to get a damn kiss!"
"Fine." Len leaned in and placed his lips against Mick's; it was brief. "Happy now?"
"Am I happy now?" Mick stared at him incredulously. "No, I'm not!"
Len was pulled forward and Mick gave him a deep kiss, forcing his tongue inside Len's mouth.
"Stop." Len pushed him away. "Enough for now."
"What is your problem, Snart?"
"We'll continue this later."
"Fuck later!" Mick shook his head. "I'm moving back to my room." He was growing beyond angry. "You don't want to kiss me, you don't want to touch me, so I have to assume you don't want to fuck either!" And then he continued on down the corridor.
"I'll bring you back a rhubarb pie!" Len called after him.
He got a middle finger in response.
Martin's door opened.
"Not again," Len muttered to himself; he really didn't want to deal with Stein and his little 'talks' at that moment.
"Could you please make up with him?"
"We did."
"Yes, so I heard. Great job the two of you are doing," Martin replied with more than just a hint of sarcasm.
Len opened his mouth and what came out was, "We're going to get pie." He went back to the bridge.
Martin stared after him and then headed back to bed. "2166 and they still haven't found a cure for the flu."
~~~~~~~~~~
After sleeping for an hour Martin wandered to the kitchen, finding Mick there brewing tea.
"You want a cup, Stein?"
"You drink tea?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"Yes, I'll take one."
"Look, Stein, I know you don't need a keeper, but they stuck me with you."
"Just make the tea, Mister Rory, and I like it with honey."
"Certainly, sweetheart," Mick cracked.
"Your sense of humor needs work."
"Whatever." Mick prepared both cups and they sat there in silence for a few minutes.
"Your partner," Martin started, "is on a guilt trip of immense proportions."
"I don't think so," Mick stated emphatically. "He's being a little shit."
"That may very well be, but it doesn't change the facts."
"You've been talking to him, haven't you?"
"We've had a few conversations, but I also overheard your little...spat...before he left." Martin sipped at his tea. "Perhaps when he returns you can make up." He had said the same thing to Leonard, so maybe they would both finally do it. For some reason it bothered him that these two men were still locked in some sort of emotional battle. "Relationships are very difficult. I've been married 40 years and they do take work from both parties involved."
"And this means?"
"Communication, Mister Rory, it's a simple thing."
"Fine." Mick stared at his cup. "When he comes back I'll try to communicate better."
"Thank you, Mick."
"You called me Mick."
"My excuse is I'm ill."
Mick couldn't help laughing at that.
"May I make an observation?"
"Could I stop you, Stein?"
"You and Mister Snart are, shall we say, immoral criminals."
Mick was in the middle of drinking and paused, putting his cup down. "I really hate when people mince words; it's annoying as hell."
Martin nodded to him. "Between the two of you, you've committed numerous crimes and the list of your victims is...rather high."
"Somebody's been doing their homework." Mick finished his tea. "For the record we never killed anybody who was innocent."
"Never?"
"So maybe a few times - or more," Mick admitted. "It's what's known as collateral damage." He looked Martin in the eyes. "And just so you know, Stein, we never hurt a kid or an animal. Anything else...." He just shrugged. "Shit happens - deal with it."
"I see." Martin couldn't help smiling. "Do I have to be concerned that Raymond - or any of us for that matter - will become a victim at some point?"
"Haircut is number one on my list." Mick gave him a closed-mouth smile, which vanished as quickly as it appeared. "What Len and me were - and what we are now - are two different things."
"Then you're not as cold-blooded as you used to be?"
"Still watching your words." Mick shook his head and sighed. "Can we still commit..." he smirked, "...reprehensible acts of violence? Yeah, if we have to - no problem with that."
"Have to?" Martin tilted his head in a questioning gesture.
"You see things and they affect you." Mick averted his eyes. "You don't want them to, but they still do."
"As Chronos?"
"There's things you can't imagine, Stein, even in your worst nightmares." Mick was clearly disturbed. "I told Len as much as I could remember and it scared the shit out of him."
"If you'd care to talk about it, I'm willing to listen."
"It's your funeral." Mick got up and took a bottle of bourbon out of a cabinet, placing it on the table.
"I'm not much of a drinker, Mick."
"Trust me," Mick said with certainty, "you're gonna need it." The (slightly) evil smile was back. "And when you start waking up at night in a cold sweat, blubbering like a fucking baby, don't come running to me."
Martin closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, Mick was gone.
"I guess he went for shot glasses," Martin mused. "I would have been happy to use my teacup."
Martin waited but Mick didn't return, so he figured Mick had changed his mind.
In their short conversation he realized he had gotten more words out of Mick Rory than the man usually used; as a norm, people (except for perhaps Leonard Snart) got maybe three complete sentences, tops.
They could talk at a later time; it's not like they weren't going to have the opportunity.
~~~~~~~~~~
The team entered the Waverider at the same moment Martin came onto the bridge.
"How are you feeling, Marty?" Sara asked.
"It's Martin," he corrected her as always, "and much better."
"We brought you sponge cake." Jax handed him a box. "I know you like it."
"Thank you, Jefferson." Martin walked over to Len. "Leonard, all I see in your hands is a bag."
"Chocolate chip cookies," Len opened the bag and inhaled. "Kendra was right; that bakery is perfection." He took something out of his pocket.
"You robbed them?" Jax stared at the wad of cash.
Len could only grin. "It's not my fault they left the cash register open."
"How could you?" Kendra seemed to shame him.
"It's what I do." Len made a sour face at her. "It's not like I shot anybody."
"You were going to!" Jax said quickly. "I saw when they said they were out of oatmeal raisin cookies."
"I like oatmeal raisin."
"You brought a gun?" Rip asked him.
Len lifted his shirt, showing the pistol tucked into his waist. "Don't leave home without it."
Martin looked around. "Who has the pie?"
"It's here." Ray held boxes stacked on top of one another. "We're going to have a pie eating contest later."
"Yes," Rip added, holding his own stack. "And I intend to win."
"Wonderful." Martin looked at the boxes. "Which one is the rhubarb?"
"I didn't know you wanted rhubarb," Jax said. "We have cherry, apple, coconut custard...."
"I don't, but Mister Rory did and it was promised in exchange for him staying with me."
"Who?" Len asked.
"Don't be flippant, Leonard," Martin scolded. "No matter what, you should have brought him the pie."
"Look, Stein," Len started, "like the kid said, if you wanted rhubarb you should have said so. Then you could have shared with your imaginary friend."
"I had an imaginary friend once." Ray grinned. "His name was Albert. But Rory is good also."
"So you're all in on this?" Martin 'tsk'd'. "Very nice; how mature."
"In on what?" Kendra asked. "And I think Rory is a nice name for an imaginary friend," she smiled.
Something was nagging at Martin; Kendra didn't normally go along with these things. "Raise your hand if you know Mick Rory."
"Who the hell is Mick Rory?" Sara asked.
"Oh my...." Martin said to himself. "Gideon?"
"Yes, Professor Stein?"
"Does this team currently include eight people?"
"Yes, Professor. Rip Hunter, Jefferson Jackson, Sara Lance, Raymond Palmer, Mick Rory, Kendra Saunders, Leonard Snart, and you, Martin Stein."
"There are only seven members, Gideon." Rip gave Kendra a brief glance. "We did have eight, but Carter Hall...."
"That is incorrect, Captain Hunter."
"Gideon, run a self-diagnostic on your memory," Rip told her.
"I do not need to, Captain Hunter," Gideon replied. "There are eight current crew members."
"Is Mick Rory aboard the Waverider?" Martin asked.
"No, he is not."
Martin's next question was, "Where is he?"
"Mick Rory does not exist in the current timeline."
The words piqued Rip's attentions. "Gideon, what do you mean by 'current'?"
"Mick Rory's existence ceased one hour and 43 minutes ago."
"How did this happen?" Martin asked, wringing his hands.
"There has been an anomaly within his timeline," Gideon announced.
Rip began to pace and it was clear he was thinking. "If there was even a minor change to the timeline, we would have been affected outside the Waverider," he explained. "However, unless the timeline has been permanently altered and cannot be corrected, everything aboard would remain as it was."
"That's how Gideon knows Mick Rory existed," Martin surmised aloud, "and how I retained my memory of him."
"Exactly. Now I am going to speak with Gideon to see if we can determine what happened to this Mick Rory person," Rip said, "before too much time passes and the change becomes finalized. When and if that happens, even your memory will be altered, Professor Stein." He paused. "We will not be leaving 1970 until this is sorted out."
~~~~~~~~~~
"What can you tell us about this guy?" Kendra asked.
"Well, he's..." Martin hesitated, "...he's Mick Rory." He didn't know how to explain why they had a pyromaniac/arsonist as part of the team, and he certainly wasn't going into Chronos. If they heard that they might decide they were better off leaving him non-existent. This, despite everything, was wrong on more levels than Martin Stein cared to think about.
"Am I friends with this Rory guy?" Jax asked.
"Yes." Martin smiled thoughtfully. "He has a soft spot for you and has said a few times - mostly when he's been drunk - that you're like a little brother."
Next was Kendra. "He likes you as well and he's said you're a damn good pool player."
"And me?" Sara asked.
"You and he, Ms. Lance, have a love-hate relationship." Martin couldn't help laughing out loud. "You love him because he brings you chocolates and your favorite vodka when he can, and you drink together. You hate him because he's the only person you've ever sparred with who has actually taken you down on a few occasions."
"Hmmpph!" Sara huffed.
"I said a few," Martin clarified. "We all know size doesn't matter, and in Mister Rory's case it's not the fact that he has somewhere in the vicinity of 150 pounds of solid muscle and eight inches on you. It's the fact that he not only fights dirty, but you have also described him as "amazingly quick for his bulk"." What remained unsaid were the techniques Mick had picked up as Chronos; Martin had no idea of how to explain that. He only knew about Mick winning their little 'sessions' because Sara tended to bitch about it. "You have taught him about your weapons and he has educated you on basic boxing and wrestling techniques, and the art of what he calls street-fighting. Oh, he also refers to you as a badass and you refer to him as a - and I quote - "mother fucking asshole"."
Sara snorted. "This guy sounds like he was - is - a friend."
"And me?" Ray asked, with that big grin of his. "Are he and I friends?"
"Raymond," Martin placed his hand on Ray's shoulder, "I can unequivocally state that you and Mick Rory have a...unique friendship." When Mick saved him in that Russian Gulag, Martin had wondered if Mick had saved Ray because he didn't want to lose his "chew toy"; Mick loved to torment him. But over time and despite the threats Mick gave him, Mick also had a special nickname for Ray - "Haircut" - and he had also assisted Ray on a few occasions with the Atom suit. He may not have been book-smart, but Mick Rory was some sort of savant when it came to anything mechanical.
"And you, Professor?" Jax asked.
"Mick Rory is the worst SOB I have ever encountered." Martin's thoughts went from the start of their journey to the pirates to Chronos. He was a man who could kill with his bare hands (unfortunately Martin had seen that firsthand), but the friendship Mick had forged with Jefferson had shown Martin that the man had some type of good in him - very little, but some. And then his mind wandered to their little conversation in the kitchen. "But he's had his moments."
"And Rip?" Kendra asked.
"They have issues," Martin stated honestly, "but that is between them and I wouldn't know how to describe it anyway."
"What about me?" Len asked. "Do I get along with this guy?"
"Mister Snart, walk with me."
Len followed him out. "Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?"
"Words are not enough; I feel I have to show you."
~~~~~~~~~~