time_fragment_main | Hiding Away - [action

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Hiding Away - [action - locked to Savitar]

Sara was gone.
Snart was gone.
Hell, the flock of hatchlings were gone with the exception of little Haircut.

Training in Egypt wasn't helping. Watching the fire curl around his limbs and obey his commands wasn't helping. So Mick slipped from the apartment. Ghosted from one place to another. Drinking. Eating. Trying to fill the empty chasm in his chest left as the two people who had been his anchors, his touchstones, had been ripped away yet again.

Even stealing a supply of speedster booze hadn't helped.

He was tired. He was sick and exhausted. A fever making the world swim and an ache settling into his joints like they were made of ground glass. So as Mick slips into a feverish doze, he barely notices the way Haircut Jr flies off, tiny alarmed chirps filling the air.

He can find help.
Somewhere.

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The missing speedster booze, he'd missed right away. Pretty much when he decided to switch his hiding places (and who was he hiding them from, exactly? Himself?), he'd found some missing and well. The list of who could've taken them was pretty short. Either Cisco or Caitlin in a fit of trying to protect him from his own ridiculousness, Bart for god knows why or...well, probably not Kara.

So Mick. Probably Mick. Something to ask him about later.

Or now, he thinks later on when a Haircut Jr ends up at his door.

The little dragon is trilling and chirping, attempting to convey any sense of urgency or alarm as it hovers, tiny claws trying to pluck at his shirt or go for a hand. There were few people in the city Mick liked and even fewer he trusted and the young human who smelled like lightning was one of them.

Trouble.
Hurry.

Savitar would be flabbergasted to know Mick Rory liked him, but it would absolutely cement the plan he had with Barry about Mick and Cisco.

The dragon tugging at him like Lassie frantic about a boy in a well certainly gets his attention, and gets him following as fast as one can follow a frantic dragon that probably doesn't fly as fast as Savitar runs.

Haircut Jr does his very best to speed along, but even a juvenile dragon can't quite flap as fast as he might want to given the situation. He ducks into a building, down a corrior to an obviously abandoned apartment.

Mick Rory is unconscious, collapsed in the middle of the room, burning with fever and totally unaware that anyone had found him. The little dragon chirps in distress, moving to frantically nuzzle at a hand, anything to try and provoke a response.

At first he thinks it's just from the speedster booze, the blackout. But once he's closer, it becomes very obvious that's not the case. And just like that, his head's right in medical-mode and checking Mick's vitals and what have you.

The fever? Really concerning. More than a little. "Mick?" Careful face tapping. Carrying Mick out of here? Well, he might be able to do it, but it'd be easier if Mick could even just stumble.

Haircut trills, nuzzling desperately as Savitar kneels beside Mick to check vitals and tap at his face to try and rouse him. The voice and the unhappy sound of the dragon is enough to force Mick to drag himself to awareness.

"..nngh. Go 'way."

Savitar snorted, and worked on hoisting and hauling Mick to his feet. Even if he has to support him, it's still easier and better than dragging him out or trying to actually carry him.

God, what he'd give for his armor right about now.

"Nope. Come on. Up and at 'em."

Mick grunts as he's hauled up but he doesn't fight it. Savitar is a friend. Someone he trusts. Mick also doesn't remember how he got.. wherever he was. They are. He's dizzy. Disoriented.

"What happened? I don't.. I don't remember." At least he didn't want to remember.

"I'm just guessing, but I think you got loaded on speedster booze." What's causing the fever, he has no idea. Right now, he's concentrating on getting Mick out of the building. He could speed them out, but he has a horrible feeling that would be...messy.

Haircut Jr trills as he curls around Mick's neck and Savitar gets him to his feet and out the door. Mick is dizzy and sick and while he's pretty sure he's more than just hung over, he isn't sure what happened.

"Saw storms outside. Look like the time stream bleeding through."

A stagger as he nearly goes down, but Mick manages to stay on his feet.

"I saw them too." The idea it was a time storm bleeding through hadn't occured to him, and it has not yet occured that might be the reason for Mick's current condition. But it may at some point, Savitar's a smart boy.

"I'm going to take you back to my place for now." Sober him up a bit, maybe figure out this fever. Speedster booze or something else?

If anyone might know what he was talking about, Savitar might. Mick leans heavily on Savitar and does his damndest to make sure he can at least keep his feet beneath him. "Can hotwire a car," he offers.

Not like he expects the kid to carry him all the way across the city again.

"Fair enough." Barry Allen would never advocate stealing someone's car, even for something like this, would he? Savitar, however, is pretty sure that no one wants him speeding someone home who may at any moment throw up several cans of speedster alcohol and regular speed walking might take a long, long time.

"Oh, look. That one's purple." Score?

"Fine." Mick leans heavily against the door before levering himself inside. He can't see the wires, at least not in the right order. "Cross this wire, no. With the other one. There. Now twist them together."

Success.
So he can close his eyes as Savitar gets them back to his place.

Sara.
Snart.
Gone and gone again and he still can't address or cope with the aching chasm in his chest.

And now Savitar will know the basics of car hotwiring for the future. Just in case. Score?

He gets them on the road, making sure Mick is secure in the passenger seat before starting them out. "I'm guessing the answer is no, but did you want to talk about it?" Whatever made him go 'give me that speedster booze', obviously.

"Nothin' to say," he grunts, closing his eyes. "She's gone. So is Snart."

And there isn't much more Mick can say about it, about losing the two people who mattered the most to him, that yet again finds himself adrift. Lost.

Alone.

"So I've heard." He can hear things through the grapevine, it's not impossible. "I'm sorry." He actually is, too. More so for Mick, since he supposes Mick is...a friend? Somehow? When did that happen?

Mick hums, reading his head on the window as they drive and the little dragon curls closer and nuzzles his chin. "They were the only ones that kept.. the only ones that understood."

Who he'd been. Who he had been trying to become. How godforsaken hard it had been.

"I get that." Most people have to have someone, right? Someone to keep them going in the right direction, keep them from becoming a monster or worse. "Maybe they'll come back. We don't know how this works yet."

And if anyone does, it's him right? There were plenty of people who were always getting in the kid's space, Cisco was convinced that he could be a better person here if he had some friends.

Mick shuts his eyes against a wave of dizziness. His head is killing him. "Sooner or later they always leave."

"Radiation leak like that should have killed all of us," he mutters, swerving back to the topic of the storm he'd seen. Away from the topic of missing people.

Well, there were plenty of people trying to step up for that job. To Savitar's surprise and occasional annoyance.

"I'm not going anywhere." As if he could help it. But where would he go? Back home to die in literally five minutes?

"Mm. Probably." He glances at Mick. "Maybe don't fall asleep just yet."

Funny,Mick would point out that it's a town full of heroes so of course they were going to try and reach out to him. But, you know, radiation sickness and all.

A strained sound at the suggestion and Haircut trills in distress, nuzzling hard enough against Mick's chin to leave a damn scale burn. He rests a hand on the little dragon. "Yeah yeah. 'm here."

"Never thought this'd be the shit to kill me."

"If you think I'm going to let you or anyone else die, you've lost your mind." Things he never, ever imagined saying to anyone here, much less Mick Rory. "We'll figure this out."

His eyes drift closed with a grunt. "You're a good kid. A good friend." And god knows Mick doesn't exactly have many of those any more.

"Temporal radiation - ain't much you can do about that without a wave of dark matter to counteract it." Never mind that knowledge is more from his lifetimes as Chronos than as Mick Rory, facts are still facts.

"I'm not a kid," he points out. A little inanely.

"Then we'll get dark matter." Somehow in someway. If anyone can manage to figure it out, it'll be Savitar. And if he can't, he'll call Cisco.

A huff that might almost be a chuckle if his head didn't feel like it was about to explode in the process.

"Saw it happen at the Vanishing Point. Hunters exposed to it when their ship was disabled. Crap way to go."

A hard turn of the steering wheel. "Yeah, well. If you die, I'll be dragging your ass back from whatever hell you end up in, so don't get any ideas."

Look, he will find a way. Don't test him, Mick.

A furrow of his brow as he glances over at him. Huh. Not many people gave a damn about him enough to even threaten such a thing.

"Ain't dead yet." And he's clawed his way back from the brink before. He can do it again.

Apparently Savitar has decided to be one of those people. Go figure. Maybe this is what happens when you bring a time remnant a sandwich when he's drunk? "Good."

Funny how simple and small gestures wind up being the most meaningful ones. Mick had heard someone in pain and acted, even if all he was doing was bringing him some food and some company.

Mick scrubs a hand across his face, trying to force himself into staying conscious. "Ain't got many friends. Not anymore. But you.. you're one."

One of a damn few now that Sara and Snart were gone.

He parks the car in front of the building, turning to look at Mick. "You're one of mine too." That's easier to say when someone's sick or hurt. Why? God only knows, but it's true. "Try not to fall asleep or pass out until we're upstairs, okay? I don't think you want to get sped up there."

"You remind me of him. Sometimes." Then he shuts his eyes and shakes his head because no no no, he's not going there. Mick sets his jaw. Stay awake. Keep moving. He can do that.

"Yeah. Yeah I got it."

Savitar knows better than to poke at that thread. Maybe later, when people aren't sick and dying, but now? Ha ha. No. "Good." He gets out of the car, over to the other side to help Mick out of it. Then, making their way to the apartments.

It's a struggle, to stay on his feet and keep them moving forward. Hangover plus temporal radiation does not make for easy walking but damnit he's going to try. If he focuses on that he doesn't have to think about what he's lost. Who he's lost.

It takes forever, but eventually they get to Savitar's apartment. Where he'll help Mick lay down on the couch and go to get some ice and some water.

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Hiding Away - [action - locked to Savitar]

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