A Bat and a Pyro Walk Out of a Heist

[slam_poetry]

To say that she'd never really seen a criminal behave as if they didn't want to be there would be inaccurate; there were any number of thieves and even murderers who had cold feet, who thought they'd get caught, and even some who had clearly been pulled along when they didn't want to be doing anything of the like. But it was the first time she'd ever seen a single thief going about his business as if he was doing a particularly boring office job, as if the spark had gone out and he could barely stand to be doing what he was doing. It was when he glanced in one of the glass cases, clearly decided he couldn't be bothered mostly because there were a lot of things IN the case, and moved on that she made her own decision.

Within a few moments, she was on the ground, in front of him, tilting her head thoughtfully. It wasn't often she spoke in uniform, but it seemed like the time.

"You don't even want to do this. And you don't need to. Why not stop now?"

Comments

[firebrawl]

"Yeah, 'cause jerks like me keep draggin' you out." It was a joke, at least it was said like a joke, but it hit a little hard, learning the Flash wasn't here because he'd lost someone too. Maybe it was a good thing the Flash hadn't shown up. That wasn't news Mick would've wanted to give him, on top of whatever else had happened.

If he knew who the kid was behind the mask...but Snart had never told him. Kept his promise. He was pretty sure Lisa knew, but he and Lisa weren't doing the face-to-face thing right now, she'd bugged outta town for a while.

[slam_poetry]

"You have a reason," she said as they moved, "just like I do. I spoke to you because your reason didn't match your actions."

[firebrawl]

He'd been leading the way across the street, but that made him come to a slow halt in the street before they'd reached the sidewalk. "Yeah? What makes you say that?"

[slam_poetry]

"The missing piece," and she turned to face him, looking up. "It isn't behind any glass."

She considered, considered a young boy in an alley, considered Batman holding her close. There was a great deal about this job, about wearing the Bat, that was about putting oneself out. Not just in danger, but putting your heart out. Trying to make the world better, even in the dark.

"I know what it's like."

[firebrawl]

"You know what what's like?" And yeah, maybe Mick sounded a little skeptical. A little more hostile. Maybe it came out in a growl. But his situation was a little unusual, and it wasn't exactly something he needed platitudes about.

But he didn't move. He stayed put, arms folded, planted in place, waiting.

[slam_poetry]

"To try and walk with one leg. One eye. One arm."

That isn't exactly what she means but it's what she says as she tries to convey what she means. It's the closest she can make the words come.

[firebrawl]

Oh.

Huh.

Well, he'd be lying if he said he'd never thought about it like that. It was still weird to think how easy it had been to...to box it all up, everything he'd become after Snart had left him behind and not come back for him. They'd just fitted right back together, in the aftermath of the fistfight Mick had won without much trouble at all, for the first time.

"Yeah," he said quietly, looking across the street at the dark building they'd come from. He knew now—after it was too damn late to do anything about it—that Snart had figured out why he'd never come back for Mick, it was because he was gonna die, so he'd just waltzed off and done it. That was what clung to him.

[slam_poetry]

She watches him for a moment before looking for a good spot and pulling out her grappling gear. They're outside now, which means it's time for her to get back to her patrol. There's a City to watch over.

"It takes time. And it's never better. But you learn to balance again."

She looks up.

"I have to go."

There's a smile under the mask.

"But take care."

And a moment later, she was zooming up on a grapple line to continue her patrol.

[firebrawl]

He almost gets out a Hey— but she's gone before he can do more than take a breath. Batgirl, huh? Pretty damn unexpected source for inspirational advice. Doesn't solve his problem of how to find the Flash and let him know the news, but maybe if he's got enough going on, it won't matter if Mick doesn't track him down right away.

At a loss for the evening, Mick's feet take him back to Saints & Sinners. He's there often enough on his own that it won't cause much of a stir, and the regulars know how to leave a man alone. They'll figure out soon enough that Len isn't coming back.

If anyone's looking for Mick Rory, they'll find him there, just sitting and staring at a flaming shot as it slowly, slowly burns down.

[slam_poetry]

Just before it would go out, a hand slips in and snatches it up, the owner downing the shot before putting the glass rim down on the table as she takes a seat beside him. She's small, but there's strength in her movements, scars on the bare shoulders she shows in her punk aesthetic get up, and something of a familiar sort of smirk on her lips.

She didn't speak at first before-

"You should buy another one."

[firebrawl]

He's torn, in the seconds before she speaks, between being impressed that she'd downed the shot while it was still flaming—he'd thought he was the only one who did stuff like that—and being irritated that his brooding is being interrupted by someone he doesn't know.

Then she talks, and he stares for a little longer than might be comfortable. Before turning to the bartender and tapping twice. How about two more?

He doesn't answer until the two shots have been poured out. "End of your shift?"

[slam_poetry]

She just nods to that as she leans up against the small bar table and watches the shot being ignited as it's supposed to be. She considers it before looking over at him again.

"Cass," is what she offers with a nod.

[firebrawl]

There's a little hnn as Mick thinks about that. Ain't an ordinary thing for a hero-type to wander up and take a seat and offer a real name.

"Mick," he says finally, before picking up his shot and hefting it in a little silent toast and tossing it back. It's nothing the bartender's never seen before, he's not paying attention, no one's paying attention. This is the kind of place to talk and not get overheard. "Stickin' around?"

[slam_poetry]

It helps that she doesn't actually have a secret identity, per se. She doesn't exist other than as Batgirl. And for some reason, for the same reason that she was here, she trusts that he won't do anything with the information other than realize that the woman sitting beside him is the one who didn't kick his ass and arrest him earlier. The one who knows what it's like to have one arm and one leg.

She takes her own shot and tosses it back.

"I came for you."

[firebrawl]

Mick read people. It was something even the people closest to him kept forgetting about, but he'd kept reading people just a little too well...right up to the second Len knocked him out. He hadn't seen that coming. Should've.

She reads people too, like he does, seems like. "Here I am. Now what?"

[slam_poetry]

She looks up at him for a moment, seems to consider what she could say, and glances at the drink. Then she picks it up, chucks it back, and turns her attention back to him properly.

"I came for you."

Hopefully, he'd get it this time. He was the one who would decide where they went from there but she'd be there regardless.

[firebrawl]

"...so you are stickin' around." Good thing he hadn't had anything else planned for the night. He has a feeling she'd be tricky to shake if he ever needed to try.

Another round of drinks is a good place to start, but this one might get watched again for a while.

"Got some news for the kid. Might hit him hard. Don't think he's gonna like it."

[slam_poetry]

"I can guess," she answered as she considered a basket of peanuts. One of them is shelled and popped into her mouth almost in a blur.

"I will pass the information on. Someone who knows him better will make that decision."

[firebrawl]

He nods, it's as good an answer as he expects. Better than he expects, if the Flash has heroes from a whole other city backing him up right now.

"Never knew what Snart saw in him," he says after a few seconds have been taken up by lighting the shot. This one might burn down too. "Must've been somethin'. ...never the way I figured he'd go out, neither. One damn step ahead'a me."

[slam_poetry]

"I was always the one a step ahead. And then I looked behind and she was gone."

That's all she can say about Stephanie. All she'll say about Stephanie.

[firebrawl]

Oho. That says a lot. Explains why she watches so carefully now, why she thinks things out before she says 'em. They might've told her about Captain Cold and Heatwave, but they've been missing for months. Might not have been part of the briefing. And she'd still spotted the absence of a partner in someone she hadn't seen before.

He leans over, just barely brushing her shoulder, barely putting an instant of pressure on it before he settles back again. And then fishes out a wide hammered-silver ring on the end of a chain around his neck, beneath the layers. "Ended up a hero in the end. Still found time to plant this on me before he knocked me out, rat bastard."

[slam_poetry]

Her eyes slip closed at the contact, trying to gain as much from it as she can, and she can gain more than most can. When he starts speaking, she looks at the item in question, thoughtful even as she admits to herself that she'll never know the true context of that ring.

"No one should try to be a hero."

[firebrawl]

"You're either a hero or you ain't one? Heard that before." Mick rubs the edge of the ring with a thumb before it disappears again. "Not sure if it's a load, but nobody figured on us swooping in and saving the world. Did it anyway."

And he knows if Len was here, they wouldn't have walked out of that museum empty-handed. Right back to thieving, he's sure of it. It's why he'd tried to get back to it himself.

[slam_poetry]

She shook her head, watching his eyes now.

"You do what you need to," she said firmly, her gaze flicking to the ring, to his fingers holding it. "You do it because you can't not do it."

[firebrawl]

There's a snorted laugh, not because what she's saying is untrue—it's probably truer than anything else, the good and the bad—but because it's coming from her, Cass, Batgirl, whoever and whatever she is.

"How old are you?" he asks suddenly. Mick knows well enough that appearance isn't any kind of gauge, and he's curious. She's latched on to him, of all people, out of nowhere, and he's not minding it as much as he would've expected.