Len was a good kid. Screwed by his father's curse but he never let it define him. Mick liked him as much as he liked anyone. He'd seen him step between his bastard of a father and his sister enough times that when the rod was raised to Len, Mick started stepping in.
He'd known that the kid was planning something, knew that just by watching the way that Snart's fingertips would twitch, the way he'd rub fingertips against his thumb while he talked. Fine. He wasn't going to out him - better he and Lisa get away clean.
What he didn't expect was a set of keys ever so gently sliding into the locks, magical wards disbanded. It was like he remembered how to breathe all over again. Mick did as directed, saying nothing and mantling his wings close to his back to keep as low as possible.
Pausing at the corner, he wraps a clawed hand around his wrist. "Collar," he rumbles softly. "Get it off." It was heavy and silver, inscribed with runes to keep him bound to the property and to his owner. The collar kept his flame at bay, kept him under control. "Can fight better."
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He'd known that the kid was planning something, knew that just by watching the way that Snart's fingertips would twitch, the way he'd rub fingertips against his thumb while he talked. Fine. He wasn't going to out him - better he and Lisa get away clean.
What he didn't expect was a set of keys ever so gently sliding into the locks, magical wards disbanded. It was like he remembered how to breathe all over again. Mick did as directed, saying nothing and mantling his wings close to his back to keep as low as possible.
Pausing at the corner, he wraps a clawed hand around his wrist. "Collar," he rumbles softly. "Get it off." It was heavy and silver, inscribed with runes to keep him bound to the property and to his owner. The collar kept his flame at bay, kept him under control. "Can fight better."