Chapter Text
Hartley Rathaway
Months, Hartley had spent months preparing for this convention. The top scientists in his field were all gathered at this summit to showcase their work and Hartley had been lucky enough not only to be invited but to also present. Honestly, it was hard to get Hartley amped up and excited about things like this, but for once in his life Hartley had worked hard and earned his spot amongst the greatest. He wanted this, more than anything.
So, he felt the sense of dread was understandable when he saw Mick Rory and Leonard Snart on the convention floor. Mick hadn't even bothered to dress up for the convention, wearing an old Henley of his, jeans that had seen better days and soot caked boots. Thankfully he had enough sense (or maybe Snart had) for him to sans the fire-retardant coat and gloves. At least Cold had put an effort to look inconspicuous with his black pants and monotone, but nice, long sleeve shirt. But even if they had bothered to blend in with the science community crowd, it didn't squash Hartley's concern that two of most notorious criminals in Central City were at the fucking convention. His fucking convention.
Hartley hoped they didn't spot him. Whatever they were doing here, Hartley wanted none of it. Sure, he might be a Rogue and run with the best of them, but Hartley didn't want that life intermingling with this one. He knew that if Mick and Len were casing this place, it wasn't going to be good. He just hoped that whatever mayhem they cause, it would at least be after his presentation. He had spent nearly four months preparing the thing; it would be a shame for it all to go to waste because the temperature morons were here.
Unfortunately, Cold spotted him immediately, nudging Heat Wave away from some sort of flame exhibit. Mick's eyes landed on Hartley and to Hartley's disbelief Rory waved at him with a large grin. Hartley ducked his head as they approached, hoping they would get the message that he wanted to be left alone. Message failed to send.
"Piper," Snart drawled as he approached, Mick Rory at his heels.
"Cold," Hartley whispered, his eyes darting around to see if any of his peers noticed. None did. "What are you doing here?"
Mick lowered his head for the illusion of privacy despite the natural boom of his voice. "Len and I like science shit," he said with absolute disinterest in his tone. Hartley stared at the burned man for a whole minute before his eyes went to The Captain for further explanation.
"Came to show our support or whatever," Snart waved off with a whimsical hand gesture, glancing around. "We saw the flyer in your workspace."
Fuck. First of all, "Why the hell were you in my workspace?"
Mick grunted, "Needed a socket wrench that wasn't warped or melted."
Hartley breathed deeply through his nose. Secondly, "Why did you guys show up?"
"Your name was on the flyer," Mick shrugged as his eyes landed on the contraption Hartley was fine tuning. He approached closer, bending down to be eye level with it. "Is that it?"
Hartley narrowed his eyes. "Yes."
"It's not very big," Mick cocked his head to the side to view it from another angle.
"Size doesn't always matter," Captain Cold threw Heat Wave a sultry look and goddamn they better not be planning to fuck in the bathroom at this convention.
"Could you guys maybe leave?" Hartley found himself asking; a moment of weakness that he knew Mick and Len would look down on.
This got a laugh from both villains.
"Not a chance."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world."
Hartley sighed and rubbed his face. "Why?"
"Does it matter?" Cold asked, eyes searching Piper's. "We showed up and we want seats."
“To the talks?" Hartley asked in disbelief. What the hell were they planning?
"You get four, right?" Mick growled. "You give anyone those yet?"
No, he hadn't. There wasn’t really anyone he’d plan on inviting. His parents were way out of the questions and the only other people he interacted with were the Rogues and they sure as hell weren’t invited. Hartley actually wanted to do this, not having it burst into flames, Mick.
But he wasn't planning on Captain Cold and Heat Wave just taking the seats from him. Hartley blinked and stared at Cold who held two of the tickets in his hands.
“When did you-”
"Two minutes ago." Snart held the stolen goods up so Rory could see.
"Mm," Mick looked at the tickets over Len’s shoulder, "nice seats. We got an aisle."
“You two can’t be serious,” Hartley watched in horror as Cold handed the aisle seat to Heat Wave.
Neither temperature criminal responded to Hartley as they walked toward the auditorium. Piper watched in mute horror as Mick leaned to Len and asked about getting fucking popcorn to which Len responded by walking a fraction of an inch closer to said popcorn vender and snatching a bag while the vender’s eyes were elsewhere.
In the end, Hartley managed to get through his whole talk without stutter or hiccup. Despite the darkness of the auditorium and the bright lights on his face, Hartley still could see Snart and Rory sitting in the audience, Rory with a lit match in his hands but otherwise harmless. Hartley had considered looking for them at the end of the convention but as he was packing up, police flooded in the hall searching for three missing inventions dealing with precious metal detection and fourteen Bunsen burners. God-fucking-damn-it.
Shawna Baez
Fourteen more chapters. Shawna had fourteen more chapters of studying to go.
It was the middle of the night and Shawna had taken refuge in one of the better maintained warehouses the Rogues had. Usually, she’d stay in her apartment on the opposite side of town, but her neighbors were throwing a party and she needed absolute silence if she wanted to pass her MCATs in two days.
It had taken her five years to get her four year degree, the particle accelerator and the fact that she was a part of a gang of super criminals had set her back a year. But she had finally graduated for a small university outside of Central City and was ready to take her MCATs so she could get into the Central City University’s MD program.
None of the Rogues, aside from the Snart siblings, knew about her academic career. It was Lisa who got her enrolled in the State College an hour away and it was Cold who got (read: stole) her the MCAT testing books a month ago as a “graduation present”.
Curled up on the couch with a hot cup of coffee (and another pot brewing in the kitchen), Shawna continued her reading of the organic chemistry section when the side door of the warehouse swung open and crashed into the metal siding. Shawna glanced up from her book to see the big frame of Mick Rory come in followed by the lither frame of Leonard Snart. Both had their guns strapped to their sides, both were carrying large canvas bags. The police sirens that echoed in the distance finished the story.
“Boo?” Mick set the bag down with a heavy clank as he looked at her perched on the couch in her sweats. “What are you doin’ here?”
Shawna had half the mind to cover her study material but figured it null. Len had probably told Mick about her academic journey ages ago. “Studying.”
Mick’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “For?”
“Medical school,” Len filled in as he latched the door shut and joined to stand beside Mick. “Problem with your apartment?” Code for: Do I need to take care of it?
“No,” Shawna shook her head. “I just needed some quiet.”
Immediately, Mick grumbled and sent Len a whining look. Obviously they had different plans for the night.
“I could leave-”
“No,” Snart cut off as he patted Mick’s shoulder. “Give us an hour for things to quiet down and we’ll go somewhere else.”
Mick perked up a bit at that. Plans weren’t cancelled, just put on hold. Mick could get behind that. Shawna bit back the giggle that wanted to come forth.
Shawna set her books aside as Mick came forward and sunk on the couch beside her. Snart went to say something but Mick beat him to it. “She needs a study break, Len. It’s good for the brain.” He looked at Shawna for back up and she only weakly nodded her head in return. If the two criminals weren’t there, she’d probably still be studying but she never minded a break. It was only an hour, it wouldn’t kill her.
Len sighed as he took came forward, taken the beaten armchair as a seat. “How is it going then?”
Shawna glanced at the sea of notes and books before shrugging. “I’m feeling pretty good about it.”
“You should,” Mick grunted. “You’ve patched me up enough times to teach a damn course on it.” Shawna grinned.
“Smartest Rogue we have,” Len complimented.
Mick smirked. “If you need more practice, I can break Lenny’s arm for you and you can set it.”
While she was touched by the gesture, she would have to decline with a small shake of her head. “I think I’ll be fine with the textbooks. It is a written exam, not a practical.”
Mick didn’t look convinced and Len looked amused and he smirked at Mick for the suggestion. “Thanks, Mick. Peek, why don’t you recite your physics terms for us? Mick would love to hear them.”
Shawna could see horror come to Mick’s face as he realized what would entail. Shawna thought: what the hell, she had an hour to kill with the criminals and she had studied the physics section last week. A little review wouldn’t hurt. Besides, messing with Mick? On Leonard’s suggestion? She would be a fool not to take the opportunity for what it was.
Mark Mardon
The thing about drinking alone is that there is never enough alcohol. Probably because there is no one to tell you you’ve had enough or because maybe your thoughts are so loud that you need to drown them out. Either way as Mark was passed his tenth shot and he weakly tried to bring it to his lips, he knew he was still going to need another to get through the night.
Most days were good days. He was one of the most powerful villains of Central City- no, of the United States! He was a quintessential member of The Rogues and he was fears by many. Most days were good days, but today was not one of them.
Every day he thought about his brother and every day it pushed him to do what they set out to do. Clyde would have wanted that. Most days it was enough. Today it wasn’t and Mark decided drinking was the only way to quiet the memory of Clyde.
Down the other end of the bar, there were a gaggle of girls drinking and giggling. He had sent a round of shots their way but it was a fruitless endeavor with little motivation behind it, only pushing Mark to drink more. He didn’t go out often and even less often was he looking for a good fuck. To have both of those goals sour really cemented the shitty night for what it was and made Clyde louder in his head.
“Aw, look Lenny,” Mark jumped at the boom of Mick Rory’s voice that silenced Clyde, “Storm Cloud is here.”
Mark may have been well on his way to drunk, but he was still conscious and sober enough to see Mick Rory was not. The notorious fire criminal was sloshed, leaning heavily against his partner and grinning wildly like a feral animal.
“Mardon,” Len nodded his head in a purely professional manner, like his…whatever you wanted to label Mick as…wasn’t using him for stability. “What brings you here?”
Mark silently gestured to the row of empty shot glasses.
Rory gasped, nuzzling Snart’s temple affectionately, “Lenny, Storm Cloud needs us!”
The fact that Snart allowed and accepted the gesture of affection spoke great lengths of his deep connection with Rory. Len smirked in amusement as he set Mick down beside Mark. “One more, then we go home.”
Mick grinned, seeming to think there was a sexual indication there. Maybe there was, if Mick wasn’t slipping out of the seat, sweating more alcohol than sweat. He’d probably be out before they got to wherever they were staying this week.
“I can drink alone,” Mark snapped at the pair.
“Now that’s just sad,” Mick grumbled, leaning over on Mark. “Don’t drink alone, Cloudy!”
Wide eyed, Mark turned to Len for an explanation and Len shrugged, ordering a beer for himself but only taking miniscule sips.
“Can’t get a girl, huh?” Mick leered down the bar. Mark turned to see what his partner’s reaction was but it was only amusement aimed at Mark.
“I’m not here for that,” Mark snapped, pushing the large man off him.
“You’ve been glancing down there for the past five minutes,” Snart drawled.
“’Looking for a distraction, that’s all,” Mark spoke clipped and low. Captain Cold, Heat Wave and he might work together but they were far from the touchy feely types.
“I could give you a distraction,” Mick grunted boldly and this punched a laugh from Len.
“Are you propositioning me?” Mark blinked, unable to mask his horror.
Mick sneered. “Angry, bitchy and entitled ain’t my type.” Mick thought for a second as he looked at Len and cursed, “Fuck. Wait, that is my type. Shit.”
“No,” Snart answered Mark’s question as he went to collect his partner, “but we know a lost cause when we see one. Turn in for the night, Mardon. Trust me. What you are looking for isn’t here.”
Mark watched as the pair left slowly, Mick stumbling around as he began trying to feel up Len. Whenever he got too handsy, Snart simply let go and let Rory falter for a bit before helping him again. After a few minutes, Mark paid his tab and followed them out, surprised to see them waiting in a (stolen) car, Len tense behind the wheel.
“No drinking and driving,” Mick recited slurred from the passenger seat, his head pressed against the window.
“Get in before I change my mind,” Snart growled. “And don’t forget your seat belt.” Mark didn’t even think twice as he climbed in, oddly grateful for the two temperature thieves.
Axel Walker
“No, no, no,” Axel muttered to himself, pencil flying over the pages and quickly followed by the eraser. “Come on, come on, come on.”
It was June first and Axel had a plan. Well, a rough plan, but still a plan never the less! Besides, Axel was of the thinking that the best plans were the ones with no planning.
Father’s Day was coming up and Axel wasn’t about to spend another one of them alone. Not after the bonding experience he had, not after his father saw what he could do. But they couldn’t celebrate with him locked up in Iron Heights. No, no, no, he needed a-
“Prison break?” Leonard Snart peered at the documents Axel had been writing and erasing over for the past four hours.
“Thought bombs were more your think.” Behind him, Axel watched Mick Rory flop onto the worn sofa and turn on the T.V. He set his heavy boot-clad feet onto the table with his arms running along the back end of the sofa. The news was on showing The Flash in all his glory after another meta-human defeat but Mick quickly changed it, ending up on the History Channel with a documentary on Mount Vesuvius.
Axel didn’t respond to the two older criminals as he focused intently on the blueprints. He was still aware of the humming from the television and the persisting click of Snart’s tongue as he looked at the map Axel was working on.
Normally, Snart and Rory stayed out of everyone’s individual business. The Rogue did individualized jobs all the time and that was fine, that was the agreement. However, complicated plans and puzzles brought Len over like a moth to a flame. The guy couldn’t help himself just as much as Rory couldn’t help himself from burning his fingertips every twenty minutes. Axel liked that kind of psychosis. Axel was that kind of psychosis. He just didn’t want it interfering with his plans.
“Did you account for the night guards?”
Axel snapped his head up, a feral smile on his face. “Of course!” He had been working on a set of tiny flash-bombs that would work marvelously.
Snart didn’t look put off by Axel’s wild look, just amused. “And the guard tower?”
“I’m blowing it up.” He managed to get more than enough C-4 to do so.
“I think being quiet and unnoticed will serve you far better,” Snart argued, already spinning the prison plans around so they were facing him. Trickster could hear Heat Wave chuckle, knowing exactly how this situation was going to end up.
“Loud and flashy is my style.”
“Great,” Mick chirped from behind, “then you can spend the next twenty years in Iron Heights with your old man. Same result in the end, right? Quality time? Father’s Day will be a hoot!”
Call Mick Rory an idiot all you like, he could read the fuck out of people.
Axel fell silent. He reached for the pencil again but found it missing. He looked up to see Snart twirling it between his fingers, eyes trained on the pages.
“I’ve broken Mick out of there at least four times a year.” Snart paused, looking up to grin past Axel over to Mick. “I just broke him out of there two months ago-”
“After I took the fall for your scrawny ass,” Mick growled in retaliation.
Len rolled his eyes. “The point is I can get your old man out in three days’ time but you are going to have to owe me a little favor.”
Axel hated Snart’s favors but knew his efficiency was something he could never match. “What’s the favor?”
“Make sure this time you go after The Flash, it sticks.”
Axel’s lips twitched up in glee as he nodded his head rapidly. Mick was up by this time and hanging by Len’s shoulder, whispering any new changes in security or personnel he remembered from his recent lock-up.
Three days later, Iron Heights’ sirens were blaring in the distance as Axel sped down the highway, his father cackling with glee beside him.
Lisa Snart
-and as the knife cut across her shoulder, Lisa scream but her voice was muted against the man holding her down, one hand around her throat, the other cutting and carving and flaying and hacking and-
Lisa gasped for air as her eyes flew open, the darkness of her room blinding her and she fought against the sheets that had somehow tangled around her and constricted her movements. Warm hands found her shoulders, pushing her back into the mattress. Lisa struggled and fought, nails biting into the hot hands that held her down.
“Lisa.”
She slacked instantly at the gravel voice and the hands were removed at once. Lisa could feel the bed dip as the owner of the warm hands sat on the edge of the bed. Close enough that she could reach out but far enough that she still had space and wasn’t crowded. They had done this song and dance since she was fourteen. With a little difficult and with shaky movements, she sat up. Lisa drew her legs to her chest and pressed her forehead hand into her knees, the painful pressure almost reassuring.
“Mick, shit,” her voice was wrecked, “I’m sorr-”
“It’s fine,” he grunted softly. Lisa didn’t press but she still felt her heart racing too fast and her hands trembling. She needed her brother, she needed Lenny.
“Where’s-”
“He’ll be here in a second.”
Swallowing hard, Lisa hastily wiped the tears that had fallen and rubbed the wetness of her hands onto the bunched up sheets to hide the evidence. Slowly, Lisa scooted toward the dip in her bed until her shoulder came in contact with another.
“Same one or different?” Mick asked quietly, as if he were afraid to spook her by speaking too loud.
“Same,” Lisa whispered, leaning over so her head came in contact with the warm shoulder.
“He’s dead.”
Lisa remembered. “He haunts me.”
Lisa felt the shoulder move upward as a gentle hand skimmed across her shoulder blades and wrapped around her side. The grip was loose enough for her to break out of but she sunk into the comfort of it instead. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted but it was a near thing and it would do until the real thing came.
The door to her room opened, letting in a flash of light before it was locked shut again. Within seconds, the other side of her bed dipped down and Lisa abandoned Mick’s warm body for a colder, but more familiar one of her brother. This time there was no hesitation or nerviness when the arms wrapped around her and she buried her face into the cold neck. She didn’t care this time as tear fell from her face again and soaked into his neck.
After a few minutes, one of Len’s arms was removed from around her and reached over the edge of the bed. She could hear the clink of ceramic and felt the bed shift as the object was held out to Mick.
“Green?”
“Mhmm.”
Len’s reached over the edge of the bed again but this time the object was brought to Lisa. She smelt it before she felt the warmth of the mug. Hot chocolate.
“Mini-marshmallows?”
“Of course.”
Lisa only took a sip before she figured her stomach was rolling too much for her to drink anymore. Still, the warmth of the mug and the smell of melted chocolate and mint was enough to calm her nerves down a bit more.
The three sat in silence for close to an hour. Her hot chocolate had long ago frozen over and had been set side, barely touched. Lisa had been moved to sit in the center of the bed, leaning heavily against her brother. Mick had yet to move or speak from the foot of the bed. If Lisa hadn’t known better, she would have thought there was nothing there.
“Can you stay?” Lisa asked weakly, murmuring the words so only her brother could hear.
“’Wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” Len whispered just as quietly back.
Lisa curled against her brother, burying her face into his chest. A blanket was pulled to her shoulders at the same time Mick finally moved, standing up and away from the bed. She could hear him begin to walk toward the door.
“You too, Mick. Stay.”
He didn’t say anything as he resumed his spot at the edge of the bed, far away from the siblings. While his presence was requested, space was still wanted.
Lisa closed her eyes but was unable to sleep. The gentle lull of her brother’s heartbeat, the audible breathing of both him and his partner and the heavy presence of Mick guarding the door were soothing. Still, she didn’t feel at ease until she heard the tell-tale click and hiss of Mick’s lighter coming on and off.
Peeking between her lashes, she watched as the room shifted in and out of darkness, Mick’s face appearing every couple of seconds before disappearing just as quickly. This was then Len’s cue to start humming, a low and soft melody of something purely nostalgic and lost in time. Len dragged his long fingers through her hair and Mick shifted to sit against the headboard, still leaving enough space between him and Lisa.
It took another hour before Len lifted his hand that was wrapped around her shoulder to intertwine his fingers with Mick. It took six more clicks of the lighter for Lisa to fall asleep.
The Flash (Barry Allen)
Barry pulled the last person from the crumbling building before it fell into a pile of rubble and dust. Before he could even catch his breath, the road beneath his feet began to split as the meta-human punched the ground.
Thinking with his instincts rather than his head (or the little Cisco and Caitlin bug in his ear), Barry grabbed the meta-human and brought him four blocks away from the crowds, throwing him into the brick siding of the old movie theater. The bricks crumbled beneath the hulking mass as the meta-human picked himself up.
He was losing and losing fast. Team Flash had yet to figure out how to defeat the meta-human and the longer they let him out, the more damage he caused the city. It was only a matter of time before Central City was flattened and Barry was running out of options.
As the meta-human locked eyes with Barry, he decided to try another Super Sonic Punch and hoped this one stuck. The previous six hadn’t but he was running out of time.
Before he could even calculate his wind up distance and speed, a blinding white blaze and a blaring orange flame shot from behind him, past him to hit the meta-human directly in the chest. Whipping around, Barry stared at Captain Cold, parka and all, standing shoulder to shoulder with Heat Wave, goggles and feral smiles on.
“Hard to rob a bank with you making such a fuss, Scarlet,” Snart drawled, nodding to Barry with a smirk.
“’Thought we’d bring some heat,” Rory roared, Snart grinning at his partner’s choice of words.
Barry barely had time to speak as the meta-human punched the ground. He noticed that the meta-human’s shirt had been singed and his chest was peeling from the temperature damage. Perhaps now he had the opening he needed to administer a lasting punch.
Racing past the two, Barry could hear Mick laugh as he shot his gun and Len chuckle lowly. He got as far as Jitters before Barry spun on his heel and raced back, winding his arm up for the punch. As if they knew what he was planning (and after all the times they had fought, they probably knew where this was heading), both Snart and Rory stopped their firing just in time for Barry to punch the meta-human down, bones cracking under his fist. The meta-human flew back down the street but this time he didn’t get back up.
Shaking the pain out of his hand, Barry turned around but found both temperature criminals gone. The bank doors were sealed shut with a thick layer of ice and burning money was left in their wake. Normally, Barry would have had them in Iron Heights in two seconds flat…but this time he let them slide. Knowing Len and Mick, they’d be back and they could have a proper battle. Right now, Barry needed to get the meta-human locked up in S.T.A.R. Labs and away from civilians….and a nap. Barry really needed a nap.