Captive - for @icejacking

[bringstheheat]

His name was Mick.

He could remember that much. A warm voice crooning to him while he was still in his shell, telling him his name and his birthright. Fire. Beautiful, changing, defining flame. They were the memories that sustained him during his capture and eventual enslavement. A half-breed was rare enough that he fetched a pretty high price on the wizarding black market and Mick despised every one of his owners.

Druse had been the worst. Denying him fire, denying him his born power. He’d tried to mold him into the perfect assassin and for the sake of only brief freedoms, Mick had played along. Choosing to answer to Chronos and assassinate anyone who got in his way. It wasn’t the best life but it gave him the freedom to fly once in a long while and Mick relished those times almost as much as when he would secretly summon fire. Kept locked away in a tower when he wasn’t needed, he could hold the fire in his hand and watch it for hours. Raw and beautiful and it was Mick’s first and only love.

Then a deal had been brokered and Mick found himself with a new owner. Whatever. New name, same demands. He knew the score by now.

What he didn’t expect was for the wizard in question to have a Tiefling for a son. And Leonard Snart was intriguing. He looked at Mick carefully, like he was a complex puzzle that required solving. A year into his tenure and they had become friends, or at least as close to friends as Mick had ever had in his life. Len never called him Chronos. He simply shrugged and asked for something to call him by and without hesitating, Mick gave him his true name. Snart was quick, intelligent and a hell of a lot better at magic than his idiot father. They’d work together on jobs, always reporting back and if Lenny started to hold back some of what they had stolen, Mick never commented on it. He might never be free, but he’d make sure Len and his sister could start their own lives.

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[icejacking]

Len'll reach in to grab another hunk of deer, cooling it with his magic before digging in and having his fill. He'll stand, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and turning blue eyes up to the sky. It was still early, day-break had been a few hours ago. They couldn't dawdle long but they could bide their time enough to rest and gain their strength.

"You should get some sleep if you didn't do so on the way here. I'm going down to the shore for a wash. Can't very well hide if I'm stinking." Many creatures had keen senses after all.

"when I'm through I'll head into town to have a look, see if it's worth a stop or if we should pass it by for the next." He takes a bar of soap and a bit of cloth with him.

[bringstheheat]

So maybe Mick didn't wait while Len went down to the water to clean himself off. Maybe he was curious enough about him that he followed, watching with fascinated eyes as he stripped down and started to wash. A fire drake like Rory didn't have much use for water unless it was for drinking, but there was something deeply captivating in the way it sluiced down his shoulders, following the long muscles of his back.

If Snart knew he was there he clearly didn't give a damn.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

In hindsight, Mick never should have fallen asleep. But he was warm and full and the dragon in him was still a sucker for basking on a warm rock. A half-dragon would draw attention and for now they were still on the run so Len had opted to go into town alone and do some scouting.

One hour became two and when the sun was beginning to dip close to the horizon Mick was concerned enough to take wing and make for the town Len had indicated. Flying was risky, it left him exposed but it was also the fastest way for him to get to the town.

".. demon born! Your fault! .. Burn the creature! Send it back to the plane it belongs!" His hearing can pick up the screams and demands of a crowd looking for blood. Mick's wings beat harder, propelling him towards the crowd as he catches sight of the deep blue of Snart's cloak.

The half-dragon lands with a thundering roar, pulling the angry mob away from the broken and beaten form of the Tiefling. Len. Mick stands over him, driving back any attacker with fist and wing and flame. They can't have him. Dragons jealously guard what is theirs and Leonard Snart was Mick's just as much as Mick was his. Only when the crowd falls back does he kneel to lift his companion, his partner into his arms and take wing again.

Mick doesn't have the endurance of a full blooded dragon when it came to carrying another, but he's also got a lifetime of stubborn determination to draw on, forcing his wings to move and carry them far enough away from the town to keep Len safe. "Hang on partner. I gotcha."

[icejacking]

Len left his clothes on a rock and waded into the surf until it was up to his hips. His long tail slithered through the water while the waves moved up his torso and rolled onto shore. The blue of his skin was a deep, royal shade and patches of his body were covered in thicker hide, some of it scale-like. There was ridges of bone flowing halfway down his spine and over the edges of his shoulders and hips. A formation of these ridges climbed up from the base of his tail to the lower 3 vertebrae. His chest and belly were smooth with darker markings, some followed the curve of his ribs or waist and down his thighs. There were other marks, mottled scars from the abuse he'd taken from his father over the years. Lighter blueish-purple gashes marring his body.

If he's noticed Mick he pays no mind to him, too busy washing to care about someone watching him bathe. He'd gone so long with people looking at him like he was a monster, an abomination, that he was ugly or disgusting. It was refreshing to have someone look at him with fascination and wonder. To know that Mick might find him attractive to look at was a compliment he'd never admit.

Once through he'll lay naked on a rock to dry off, soaking in the heat of the sun for as long as he could stand it. He'll then slip into his clothes, fastening the back of his pants around the girth of his tail, tying his shirt, slipping on a vest, his cloak and carrying his boots till he was out of the sand. He'll come back to spot Mick basking on a rock, grab a waterskin and head into town with the promise he'll be back within an hour or so.

He's just having a look around and maybe pop in to talk to a few people to find out information. At least, that was the plan at first.

As it turns out Magic was banned from the town, so at least he could assume his Father's influence didn't hold much ground here. That wasn't to say he didn't have eyes and ears about, as he was warned by a trusted source he met at the tavern. He caught some unfriendly attention though and quickly left. Unfortunately he was followed and before long he was exposed as he attempted to escape, hood falling back as he's shoved and dodges around thrown fists. The ruckus gathers the attention of some locals and weapons are brought into the fray or rocks thrown.

Len does what he can to try and defend himself with just his wits and a knife, but he's battered and thrown to the ground. One man bears down on him and in desperate attempt to save himself he throws magic at him, spattering his face and upper body in frost and ice. He suffocates and that only serves to rouse the anger of the crowd. He's kicked and beaten, one man even manages to stab him through the side with his sword, he barely dodges an axe as it slams into the ground where his head was. He curls into a ball, covering his head and face, tail pulled in against him as he's damn near trampled into the dirt.

Then there came a roar and in a blur of heat and leather he was saved. He's fading in and out of consciousness when Mick scoops him up and carries him off. He's limp in his arms, hearing the rumble of his voice as he reassures him and they fly to safety. He'll pass out, losing quite a lot of blood that if left un-treated will kill him.

Luckily for both of them there is a hut tucked back in the woods where a healer lives. The home permeates the air with the smell of fresh herbs and healing spices. The old man there would gladly tend to Len to save his life, instructing Mick to give him a tincture and spread salve on the wound to keep infection out. The only payment he'll ask for is Mick's hand around his home, weeding, chopping wood or other things where the old mans strength might fail him. Len needs his rest anyway.

Once through he'll feed the dragon, offering the pair to stay the night but stating he can spare no more than that. that his companion should be fine enough to travel by morning if the Dragon carries him back to their camp.

[bringstheheat]

Henry Allen is one of the few healers Mick had come to trust since the elder Snart started sending the half-Dragon on jobs of his own, trusting the control collar to always bring him back. The human was far kinder than anything Mick had ever experienced in his life and he tried to do right by him. Keeping trouble away, dropping off baubles when he could. So when he felt the tacky feel of blood on his hands as he carried Len to safety, his wings took him the one place he knew they'd be safe.

They won't stay long. As Allen treats his partner and friend Mick sets himself to work outside. Clearing brush. Gathering firewood. Running down a pair of deer. Things to help keep the man fed and sheltered. The Dragon works through the day and well into the night until the human emerges from his cabin to nod at him. He's alive. He'll survive a flight by morning. Mick understands the danger - he can't expose Allen to further risk, so they'll leave once Len is awake and has taken something to dull the pain of his injuries.

Mick sets the fire to light and settles in beside the bed where Len lay unconscious. He watches the way the flickering light plays across his features, the angle of his jaw, the markings on his skin and he wonders if that odd sensation in his chest is what affection or desire is supposed to feel like. After living his life without them, it's a little hard to tell.

But a hard battle and a long flight take their toll and it isn't long before his head is drooping forward and the half-Dragon eventually falls into a restless sort of sleep.

[icejacking]

By daybreak the Tiefling will stir, groaning softly as he shifts on his cot. His head is pounding and he's thirsty, but he's alive. There's still aches, bruises and scrapes but he's not bleeding out. Even with healing magic there was usually a residual ache for a time. More rest and light labor would give his body time to repair the rest on his own. Between the herbs and a dash of spellcraft he would survive and be well within a few days.

The long tail flops out of the bed and curls on the floor as if it too was rudely awakened. He'll push himself up to sitting, moving slowly and carefully as he winces at the pull to his wounds or the way his ribs are bruised all over. He reaches for water left for him and drinks deep, almost missing the presance of the half-dragon form next to his bed.

He'd saved his life and guarded him through the night. He's never known anyone who would do that for him.

[bringstheheat]

Mick is a little slower to wake, only rubbing at his eyes blearily as he registers movement beside him and Snart moving to fetch his own damn water. Stubborn ass. His tail lands on his foot and the half-dragon pulls himself awake with a grunt. His back was a riot of tension and his wings were achingly stiff after such a flight and with luck he'll be able to talk Henry into a little healing of his own before they have to head off for the camp they had made.

"Sit still damnit," he rumbles. "Gotcha some food, should help you with the healing process."

[icejacking]

He frowns softly at being scolded but carefully sets himself up so he can rest back against a pillow at a comfortable angle against the wall. He rests a hand over his side where the sword had pierced him.

"...I was lucky you figured out something went wrong." He knows just how close he came to death last night.

"Or that you cared enough to save me and arrived when you did."

[bringstheheat]

Scowl all he likes but Mick isn't going to let his stubborn blue ass out of bed until he's had something to eat and Henry tells him he's in decent enough shape to travel. Len might be stubborn, but so is Mick. He drags a weary hand across his face, scrubbing at his horns. "Knew I shoulda gone with you."

"Course I cared enough to save you." In a short time Leonard Snart had become deeply important to Mick. Valued and cared for. Wanted. But now wasn't exactly the right time to think about watching him bathe, about the water sliding down his skin.

Mick pushes a plate at him. "Here. Allen said you should eat up, it'll help you heal."

[icejacking]

Honestly it was the closest thing to a Thank You as Mick will get but he's grateful that the half-dragon saved his life. He takes the plate of food without protest and picks at it, nibbling here or there and eating slow. He's hungry but he's still a little woozy. He studies the other with different eyes. He's never really had a friend like him before, someone he'd bonded with so easily or that could care for him so quickly. Most contacts he had were barely trustworthy, but just, and he wouldn't call them friends per se. They'd cut ties if it were ever too much trouble to remain in contact. And in a situation like the one he was in, none of them would've stepped in to help for fear of risking their own lives or outing themselves. Many wouldn't want to be associated with him in general. Especially now they'll be wanted men.

"Have you eaten?" Obviously the dragon slept at least a little bit. His tail flicks in a slow, thoughtful rhythm as he eats.

[bringstheheat]

They work well together in that. Len isn't used to saying thank you and Mick isn't used to hearing it. So the moment passes and he watches carefully as he picks at his food, a little of the meat, some of the vegetables Henry had provided from his garden for roasting.

"Ran down a couple of deer while you were gettin patched up. I'll string up some of it to dry, see what we can cure and take with us." He's eaten, but only just enough. Mick wanted any of the healer's stores saved for him or for Snart if needed. He could continue to hunt for anything he might need for himself.