These Dreams

[bringstheheat]

Normally Mick didn't mind waking up. Waking up meant hot coffee, salty bacon and whatever else he could lay his hands on in the galley of the ship before the rest of the wolves descended. Gideon had long since given up any and all attempts to feed him anything that was low-fat, gluten-free (he'd almost burned the galley to a crisp for that shit) or anything else that resembled healthy.

Nope. A man needed caffeine, fat and carbs to get through the day and keep from killing anyone.

So why was he so reluctant to get out of bed?

Why was he recalling memories of a lithe body in his arms, a cascade of blonde hair and laughter that crawled up his spine and made him feel whole again?

Sara. As he passed by Len's bunk, watching the two of them playing cards it hits the big arsonist like a fucking freight train. Another life. Another timeline. Whatever it was, he and Sara had been together. In love. She'd been his fierce, bright star and he'd adored her for it right up until she glanced up at him, cool and assessing and it had been like a fucking heartstrike.

She didn't know.

Mick could recall years of them together, from the day that he'd first stolen a kiss until the day he'd sucked it up and dropped to one knee to ask her for forever and she remembered none of it. Nothing.

He avoided them both after that. Actively. Dodging Len and keeping his distance from Sara as best he could so it didn't trip anything else up. Not that it worked. Snart was too perceptive and Sara too smart not to pick up on the fact that something was wrong.

He had loved her. Still loved her.

Mick was completely and utterly fucked.

Comments

[thecanarylives]

For a group of so-called time masters, life on the Waverider could be strangely domestic at times. Crossing time and space actually took longer than one might assume, and without Netflix or the internet or television in general to pass the time, things were... quiet.

The nice kind of quiet. A quiet Sara could get used to. Filling her time playing cards with Len, training with Kendra, pretending to understand when Ray and Martin started in on one of their physics debates. It was starting to feel like... home. A concept she hadn't truly felt in longer than she'd like to admit.

She thought. But lately, things had felt... off. Like the feeling of homesickness, but not for Star City. Like the feeling of mourning, but she didn't know for whom. Every day she thought it might shake off - like a bad dream that had its hooks in a little too deep. But every day it got a little worse. The loneliness. The heartache.

It occurred to her - perhaps a little late - that maybe Mick had been getting the same feeling, too. He'd been moody lately. Cooped up in his quarters, avoiding the rest of the group. She caught him finally on a snack run in the middle of the night, when the rest of the team was asleep. She hadn't been sleeping much either lately.

"Pancakes?" She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. "Tell me you've got bacon to go with them."

[bringstheheat]

He'd already had a tense, almost-conversation with Snart about why he'd been acting off. His partner knew that something was wrong and basically told him to get his shit together, which earned a snarl in reply and an assurance that he's fine, fuck off. Guys like them don't exactly have heart to heart conversations, so that was about as close as they were going to get.

But he still couldn't talk to Sara. Could barely look at her without it setting up a hollow ache in his chest.

Naturally she'd sneak up on him in the galley when he was just looking for a bite. A grunt in reply as he slides a plate over to her. Blueberry pancakes and thick bacon. Her favorite way to start a Sunday. Mick rubs a hand over his head, trying to keep the memories straight. Maybe a second round of Induction at the hands of the Time Masters had well and truly scrambled something in his brain.

He doesn't even think about it, moving to get coffee and doctoring it up just the way she takes it before sitting down and listlessly picking at his own food.

Suddenly he's not hungry anymore.

[thecanarylives]

She'd asked Leonard not too long ago if he knew what was bothering Mick. His partner in crime had shrugged it off - that he was just being Mick. That there was a part of his old friend that he didn't quite know anymore, after he'd become Chronos. That maybe he just needed some space.

But there was something oddly personal that stung at her when Mick was around. Something in the way he looked at her, the clench of his muscles and the furrow in his brow. Farbeit from Sara Lance to take things personally, but... for some reason, she thought maybe in this case, she should.

She stares at the plate he leaves for her a moment, sure that she can't remember the last time she had the meal before. Then why does it seem so... nostalgic?

Slowly, she makes her way to table, perching on a stool and returning her attention to him. Chewing on her lip, she hesitates a moment before plucking a piece of bacon and chewing on it.

"This is gonna sound weird - or maybe it's not, I dunno. But are you... have I... pissed you off, or something?"

[bringstheheat]

"Course not." His reaction was immediate, if somewhat confused. No, they'd know if they pissed one another off. A broken plate leading to a broken nose and furiously good sex after he'd come back from the ER..

No. No that wasn't real. That wasn't his life, wasn't the life he'd shared with Sara and Mick sucks in a breath. He'd never raced home to find her floating in the pool wearing nothing but sunglasses and a smile. He'd never held her in his arms and felt like for the first time in ages he was finally home.

"'s not you," he rumbles, dropping his gaze to his coffee. "Think something went a little off the last time the Time Masters got a hold of me." Because that's what it has to be, right? Why he remembers things that no one else does?

[thecanarylives]

It's not a lie. He isn't all that great a liar - and God knows Sara's seen her fair share of those. She sips at her coffee, wondering fleetingly how the hell he knows how she takes it, her gaze cool and curious as she watches his features. The slope of his shoulders, the clench of his jaw.

"Back at the Vanishing Point, you mean?" She prods at her pancakes, trying to think back. "What... exactly did they do? Mess with your head, somehow?"

She can hear herself prying, and he's not exactly an open book. Never has been. Not really.

She frowns at the sentiment, at how off it sounds, munching on a piece of bacon and trying to clear her head.

[bringstheheat]

Anyone else prying would be met with a furious snarl and the sight of Mick's back as he stalked away. He didn't talk about Induction to anyone.

"They tried to make me into Chronos again. Rip away parts of my life and shove their programming in." There were still odd holes in his memory, years that were hazy or completely gone. But there was also Sara. "Something else got in."

"A life that wasn't mine." Just saying it out loud makes him nauseous and he pushes his coffee away.

[thecanarylives]

Honestly, she's surprised he hasn't completely clammed up and is still willing to humor her. Maybe he's in a good mood, maybe he's feeling pent up. Either way, she won't complain. Not when it might help explain the strange mood she's been in herself lately.

She furrows a brow, watching him carefully. There's bitterness in his voice, which isn't all that surprising considering what he's been through.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I know it's not the same, but I think... I think maybe the Vanishing Point affected me too, somehow. Nothing specific, more just... emotions out of nowhere, I guess. Like maybe I'm feeling something from a different timeline? Does that even make sense?"

[bringstheheat]

He won't hope, won't hold out on some fool's dream that one day she'll wake up and remember. Mick doesn't hope. He misses a life that wasn't his. "It's outside of time. Different worlds all coalesce in the time stream." Eddies and ripples, echoes of other lives.

That had to be it and somehow Mick took a harder hit when he was ready to sacrifice everything to destroy the Oculus.

"Probably gonna kick my ass for this but I remember.." and he's going to say it looking right at her, braced for whatever reaction comes next. "I remember us. You an' me."

[thecanarylives]

She stares down at her plate, still trying to figure out why the hell this meal is so familiar. Why sitting here, talking over coffee and breakfast food seems so familiar.

She lifts her gaze back to him when he speaks, confusion in her eyes with maybe just the faintest flicker of recognition.

"You and me... doing what?" she asks slowly.

[bringstheheat]

She wasn't laughing, wasn't even pulling away from him to haul off and throw a punch. This was stupid. Women like her? They didn't end up with scarred old men like him.

At least not in this world.

"Living our lives. Together." And damn him but he misses that. Mick almost looks forward to sleep just so he can dream about her, about how happy they were together. He snatches up his cup, draining it in one go and pushing away from the counter. "But that ain't this life, and I've got work to do." And he tromps off to engineering to make sure things are in order because he has to do something.

He can't just stand there and tell her that he remembers a life that wasn't his and he wants that life with every fiber of his meing.

[thecanarylives]

A few weeks ago, maybe it could've been a joke. God knows the idea of her settling down - much less with Mick Rory - is out there enough in itself. But the shock isn't there. The incredulity isn't, either. She's just... confused as all hell.

"Wait-" She snaps to her feet when he retreat toward the door, quick to follow him and catch his hand as he trudges away. "Mick, wait-"

She drops his hand suddenly, wincing at the electric shock that sears through her. She shuts her eyes, flashes of imagery blinding her. Bright enough to sting - to make her stumble.

[bringstheheat]

That's the problem. He wants to wait and Mick knows damned well that he shouldn't. So he walks, at least until she touches his hand and stumbles hard.

"Sara?" Mick is quick to act, scooping an arm beneath her shoulders to keep her from falling hard to the deck. His second arm dips beneath her knees and he's carrying her at a quick clip into medical, yelling for Gideon to come online and freaking do something.

[thecanarylives]

The spell only lets a few seconds, but it leaves her dizzy and struggling for breath. She's not sure exactly when he scooped her up in his arms, or when she reached out to clutch the front of his shirt in a fist.

"M'fine," she mutters, even as they enter the med bay. "I'm fine, I swear." She's broken out into a cold sweat, though, her head pounding as she tries to catch her breath. "Just... need some water."

[bringstheheat]

"No you aren't." And oddly enough, Mick is used to having this argument, of taking care of Sara when she was objecting. "And I'll feel better once metal head has given you the all clear."

Never mind that his pulse was skittering out of control at the thought of Sara in trouble or the way that he watched every monitor with a quick and careful eye.

This was Sara. His bright star. It didn't matter to Mick which life they were in - he was going to stay with her until he was damned sure she was safe.

"Hey. How about some water for the lady?"

"Coming right up Mister Rory."

[thecanarylives]

"I'm fine, it's just... It's just a headache." Probably the worst headache she's had in her life - and that's counting the many hangovers she's woken up with after many a night keeping pace with Leonard and Mick.

She shifts on the med bay's cot, curling her knees to her chest and wiping the cold sweat from her forehead.

"Told you you're not the only one the Vanishing Point messed with." She swallows dryly, rubbing her temple. "This... other life you remembered. With you and me. Did we have a house?"

[bringstheheat]

"Then if it's nothing we won't be here long." Mick isn't budging on this, Sara stays right where she is until Gideon gives the all clear.

"C'mere." His hands are gentle as he helps her sit up and sip at least some of the water. How can he miss holding her so much when he's never done it before this moment?

"Yeah. We did, doll. A yellow house with a red door. Soon as you saw it you lit up like it was Christmas."

[thecanarylives]

Mick Rory wasn't exactly the fussing or caring type - not that the team had seen much of, anyway. The closest she thinks she's gotten is him slinging Ray over his shoulder and hauling him out of a prison, which isn't exactly what anyone might call bedside manner.

But he's gentle, suddenly. Moving quickly and deliberately with a comfort between them like he's known for years. It's... a little unnerving, honestly. If Sara was the type to be unnerved much, anyway.

"Doll?" She smirks up at him, a little of that playfulness surfacing again as she sips at her water. Still, she can't seem to stop watching him, struggling to piece together the flashes. "I think... I saw a kitchen. Big bright windows, an... an island with a cracked countertop?"

[bringstheheat]

Shit.

He's allowing himself to think too much about that other life. Touching like he's got a reason to and just like that Mick pulls it back in. Drops his hands and steps back. Trying to remember that in this world, in this life, he shouldn't be reaching out like that.

"Yeah. Cracked island. Pool out back."

He can't do this.

[thecanarylives]

It's like flipping a switch. One moment he's warm and close and caring, the next he's... Well, he's Mick. She swallows heavily, surprised at how much it affects her when he steps away.

"I'm sorry," she mutters, glancing down at her hands.

[bringstheheat]

Mick knows that he's overstepped. He allowed himself to sink a little too far into the memory of a life that they shared. He'd touched when he had absolutely no right to.

"'s not your fault," he rumbles after a moment, wishing bitterly that he could reach out again and touch, find some way to offer her comfort. "It's their fault. Whatever they did to us."

[thecanarylives]

Sara's not much of a touchy person. Hard to be, after what she went through on the island. After the freighter. But something in her wants to reach for him. To keep him from trying to cut and run again.

She drains her cup of water, pulling her legs up onto the cot.

"Guess we could be seeing a hell of a lot worse, right?"

[bringstheheat]

They were both damaged - broken in ways they'll likely never recover from. But maybe that was okay. He shoves his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching out again.

"Hn. Yeah. Could've been worse I guess. But it's hard to keep things straight sometimes." Like when he'd held her close, offering her the water when he shouldn't have.

[thecanarylives]

"And you just... You just woke up one day remembering everything?" She shifts to sir back on the wall of the cot, still a little dizzy from the spell.

It's... Awkward, to say the least. To think he had this whole life in his head with her and she had... A kitchen.

"I wish I could say I remembered, but... It's only flashes, really."

[bringstheheat]

"Yeah," he confirms quietly. "Second round in the chair must've kicked somethin loose." At least as far as he can tell - there's no way in hell Mick is going to let anyone, even Gideon, go poking around in his head to be sure.

"'s all right." No it isn't. It's far from all right.

"Ain't gotta mean anything."

[thecanarylives]

"Which is why I only get flashes," she reasons, thumb tracing the lip of her cup thoughtfully. He's not a man to be bothered by much, so the fact that this is weighing on him isn't lost on her. But she's not exactly the right girl to be helling him through it.

"Well, if... If you do need to..." Talk? Yeah, like that's what he wants to do. "I'm here."

[bringstheheat]

And Mick isn't the sort to reach out when he's in trouble. He's going to put his head down and simply push through whatever is wrong or pretend that it isn't really there.

"'m fine." Hardly fine.

An awkward pat to her hand before he pulls his hand back. "Let Gideon take care of you."

[thecanarylives]

He's not fine. She'd be an idiot to believe him. But what the hell can she do?

"Yeah. I'm feeling better. Probably just need some rest," she shrugs, hesitating at the touch to her hand. "I'll um... I'll probably just nap here. Don't worry about it."

She offers a smile, though it hardly feels helpful. Shit.

[bringstheheat]

No. It's not very helpful, but Mick probably shouldn't have said anything in the first place. So he does his best to summon up a small smile for her. Some kind of reassurance that he isn't aching inside, that he wants so much to reach out and draw her close.

"Yeah. Yeah, you rest up. I'll.."

He'll what? Bang around in the engine room? Work on his gun?

Hell if he knows. Mick drags a hand across his head. He doesn't have anything else to say. Nothing that will help at least. He wants her so badly and he can't bring himself to say a damned thing about it.

[thecanarylives]

The smile he musters doesn't do much to help. In fact, it twists something in her chest - and when he runs his hand over his head, the simple action sparks that ache that's been trailing her for so long.

It's him. She's been missing him, somehow, though he's been a few doors away the whole time.

"You could stay," she says quietly. "If... you want."

[bringstheheat]

The invitation clearly wasn't expected and Mick blinks up at her for a moment. She doesn't remember their life together, but maybe it's something that she remembers any of it. Maybe it's enough.

"Yeah. I can stay. So long as you rest a little." Just sitting with her is a start. They can sort out things from there and since she doesn't seem too bothered when he slips a little, maybe they'll be okay.

Maybe. Mick's never been a lucky man, but for Sara he's willing to try.

[thecanarylives]

"Cross my heart," she replies, offering another smile and curling up into the cot, leaving enough room for him to lie next to her. She's always been comfortable around him. Even in the beginning. There was something about Len and Mick that felt familiar when they were all together. Drinking, dancing, generally making trouble.

It feels better when he's closer. Warm and solid and like... home. Which doesn't make sense in the least, but it's calming as all hell.

[bringstheheat]

She was always good at surprising him like that, at least in the life he remembered. Little gestures to remind Mick that he was not just welcome but wanted and that was hell and gone from what he was used to.

So Mick doesn't question or second guess, he simply strips out of his jacket and crawls onto the cot with her. It's close, but they make the space work. Sara can tuck up against his chest and after a moment of hesitation, he rests a hand gently on her shoulder. It feels like coming home, like he's finally found everything that he's been missing in his life.

Not as perfect as it had been, but well on it's way to it and as her breathing begins to slow and even out and she finds sleep, Mick does the same.