He Ain't Heavy - Mick/Leonard - returned AU

[bringstheheat]

".. so what are you telling me?"

Nate's voice is bright with excitement, the same earnest delight when he's uncovered another unknown facet of history. "You asked me to look into Lincoln, so I did. I started with the bigger stuff, you know, arrested for the murder of the Vice President's brother, later exonerated--"

"I know all that. I got that from Gideon. You said you had something new?"

"Just wait, hang on." There's a shuffling of papers before he pulls out the right information. "Here. Lincoln was adopted by Aldo Burrows when he was young. The adoption happened in Keystone." A pause. Nothing? Okay. "Mick, Lincoln was adopted when his family burned to death in a fire. The old Rory farm."

"What're you saying?"

"Mick. The reason Lincoln looked so much like you, like identical, is because he was your brother. Aldo Burrows adopted him out of Keystone right after the fire killed your family. Not everyone died in the fire."

Brother.
All these years and Mick never even knew.

As he stumbles out of the library, intent on a drink or ten, he doesn't notice if anyone might have been standing nearby.

He had a brother.
His brother had looked out for Leonard and then went off and died for him without even knowing how they were tied together.

Jesusfuck.

Comments

[mypriority]

"Lincoln was adopted."

"in Keystone."

"He was your brother."

"Not everyone died in the fire."

Mick may not have put it together so quickly, but Leonard felt the impact of it with the first mention of adoption. That's what had him stopping outside the library, listening to the conversation going on inside. The rest of it was just brick after brick to the gut of information. So, he isn't surprised by the way Mick fumbles his way out of the library, barely managing his footing-- it's a lot, and it's heavy, and Leonard has no idea what to do with it himself.

He stands, rooted to the spot, staring at Mick. He doesn't even know what to say, so his mouth takes over and works of its own accord instead. "Let's go get a drink." It was the easiest place to start.

[bringstheheat]

A brother.
His brother survived and he never knew. The news sends him reeling, barely able to stand as he stares at his partner. Leonard.

Mick's jaw works for a moment. "Yeah. Drink. I need a drink."

He doesn't speak until they're sitting in Leonard's room, a bottle between them. "My brother Lenny."

How he's supposed to process this?

[mypriority]

He nods and walks with his partner to grab one of the best bottles of booze they can get from the ship and head back to his room. He lets Mick lead and drops onto the bed once they're in the room, uncapping the whiskey and handing it to Mick.

"Yeah." His voice is quieter than he meant it to be. Probably for the best. Less chance of any shaking to sound if he's barely speaking above a whisper. "I heard." He doesn't know how to process it, either.

[bringstheheat]

The bottle is tipped back and Mick savors the smoky burn down his throat. Brother. Lincoln. He screws his eyes shut for a moment. "I remember him."

He passes the bottle to Snart. Alive all those years and Mick never knew it, never even had a goddamn clue. Then he died and somehow his partner found his missing family and that family kept him afloat.

That family died for him.
Mick feels vaguely sick.

"My brother."

[mypriority]

Leonard would have asked why he never mentioned him, except... well, he didn't talk about any of his family after that night. Didn't do any good, and it hurt too much. And it isn't really surprising that he missed that any of his siblings lived. He was hauled off the scene pretty quickly, he didn't have a chance to know anything.

He takes the bottle, glad to have something to occupy him for a couple of seconds before he has to speak again. He really, really isn't equipped for this.

But taking that swig from the bottle really does only give him seconds and this is such an open, raw thing that he doesn't feel like he can let the silence linger, even though he doesn't know what to say. "What do you remember?"

For once, Leonard is finding it a lot harder to be pure, cold logic.

[bringstheheat]

Mick doesn't have many hard rules in his life. He didn't take to hurting women or kids or animals. And he never, ever talked about his family or what happened that night on the farm.

He closes his eyes. "Mama called us Irish twins. I was born, he came about ten months later. He was.. smart. Quick. Got into fights but 'm pretty sure that's because the old man took the belt to all of us when he got drunk."

Another swallow from the bottle. "And he found you. Looked after you for me."

And now he's gone again and the tangle of confused emotions is threatening to drown Mick entirely.

[mypriority]

'Irish twins', he's heard the phrase. Never thought much on it before now, and it seems strange to consider. "Guess it's a good thing your old man and my old man never got together to go bowling, they might've come up with fun, new ways to be terrible to their kids." It's the best way he can handle this. He barely knows what he's doing, here.

He lets a silence lull for awhile after Mick's last comment. There's something heavy about that, when he really thinks about it. It almost makes sense why they clicked as well as they did, and why, despite everything that told him to keep that separation in mind, he couldn't quite completely shake the familiarity.

"What can I do?" He knows the answer. Nothing. Because they can't undo what happened. Not everything that's broken can always be fixed.

[bringstheheat]

A quiet grunt at the attempted dark humor. It was how they got through hard moments like this. It was how they survived. Mick takes the bottle again, but doesn't yet bring it up to his lips. With his free hand, he scrubs at his head. He feels.. numb. Shocky.

"I dunno Lenny. I didn't even know he was alive and now he's gone again." But not just gone. Lincoln had sacrificed so Mick could stay because his partner needed him back.

Christ he hates time travel.

[mypriority]

He'd apologize, but it's futile, so he doesn't bother. Instead, he just sits with him for awhile, and passes a bottle of booze between the two of them for an even longer while.

When they've had enough or it's gone--whichever comes first--he'll set the bottle aside and sink down against the mattress, absently dragging his fingers across Mick's wrist, before he closes his hand around his arm and tugs. Drunk enough, it wouldn't be hard to tug him down next to him, and if Mick settles against him like he wants, Leonard idly draws patterns against the inside of his arm.

He isn't good at this, and he has no idea what to say. But he'd told Mick before he'd try, whatever that even meant. That he wouldn't just...fall back into old patterns and ignore everything. This isn't much, it's barely anything at all, but maybe it's enough. For now, until he can find the words to say.

[bringstheheat]

Mick goes easily when Leonard's hand curls around his wrist and he pulls at him. They're both drunk at this point but he doesn't feel any better for it. He's pretty sure his partner doesn't either.

Lincoln. Mick wonders what kind of life he had. The family that had adopted him. He knows the bigger moments, but not what kind of man he'd been.

Cool fingers move along his arm, keeping him grounded. "Tell me about him Lenny."

"Anything."

[mypriority]

Leonard would argue that he's rarely ever felt better for adding alcohol to any situation, but rather it's just sort of a ritual he's fallen into more than anything else. He's glad Mick doesn't put up any kind of resistance, though, and he curls a little closer to the older man.

"He sucks at poker," he says with a half-lived smirk. "Kicked my ass in gin, though." He thinks back about various missions Lincoln had been on with him, the number of times he'd fallen into step with Leonard in a way that was almost familiar enough to ache. "He was a good guy." A beat. "I mean, not Flash kind of good, but...he cared a lot, but selectively."

[bringstheheat]

Mick's arm snakes a little tighter around his partner as he listens. His brother had been a good man, taken care of his partner and given him his life back. Damnit Lincoln.

"Good. I'm glad you found him Lenny."

He's just as glad that Lincoln found him, took good care of him. "Sounds like he did good on the ship."

[mypriority]

"Me, too." He mumbles quietly, pillowing his head against Mick's shoulder. "He saved me...in a lotta ways." It sounds stupid, and worse still weak to admit, but it's true all the same.

He nods a little, "He did. He liked it...said he found purpose here." Which now, has a whole different meaning than it did at the time that Lincoln had said it to him.

[bringstheheat]

Mick shifts to catch him in a kiss because when it's just them, when they're alone, it's okay to admit things like that and he's glad his brother had been there for him.

A swallow as he listens. "Good. If he found a purpose here, maybe I can too. Be better. Like him."

[mypriority]

He kisses him back easily, soft and gentle. Maybe it's okay to admit, but it doesn't make it feel any better to.

"You will." That much, at least, he's certain of. Because if he can't, then...maybe they'll just go be somewhere else, just the two of them, figure something else out. Leonard isn't sure, but whatever happens, Mick doesn't get to go where Leonard can't follow this time.

[bringstheheat]

He's always going to revel in moments like this, when he can kiss Leonard, draw him close and there's no snark, no argument. Especially moments like this when Mick so desperately needs the comfort.

"I'm gonna try Lenny. I swear I'm gonna try." Whatever it takes, he wants to do right by his brother and by his partner.