Cracking That Cold Exterior [Lisa Snart]

[Captain Cold]

Len had no damn idea why he was here, not when there were other bars to choose from; this one was too rich for his blood and the black tie shit wasn’t his usual game. His discomfort with the class and style in dress was obvious too. The ladies wore cocktail dresses and the gentleman wore pressed suits, but Len sat at the bar in a pair of black slacks and a dress shirt that could use an iron, half tucked in with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

He turned down a waiter that offered him a tie for the umpteenth time, and tried to return to the scotch he had been nursing for the last quarter of an hour. There were probably better ways he could spend his night, but alcohol seemed to beckon him and he wasn’t about to say no, not when he needed it. He needed a drink, relative peace and a reason not to punch that damn waiter.

More alcohol would probably dull the irritation.

Len drowned his first scotch and asked for another. He was on his second drink and wasn’t close to drunk, so his treacherous, bastard thoughts shouldn’t be on dad. He wasn’t some alcoholic who beat on children, so he wasn’t like his old man. He wasn’t. He hunched his shoulders and growled a curse into his glass.

He had come to Gotham to get away from home for a bit, not to sit in some club and revisit it. Len didn’t want to be anywhere near Central City right now, because the sight of that familiar cityscape made his shoulders itch with a restless irritation. Maybe because it was approaching that date? He forged ahead, but even then he couldn’t help but think about Chillblaine and what he’d lost.

[Golden Glider]

Back to the Lounge. Lisa wasn't sure why she was drawn to this over the top bar. It was too fancy and actually kind of silly for all these rich people to be coming to constantly. It was run by a well-known criminal and they somehow didn't care. She didn't have to. She was a criminal herself and knew how to take care of herself. She could handle all the goons wandering around, acting like security when they were most likely looking for a good score.

Once again, she wasn't a good one. She hadn't bothered to dress up like the other night. She had run into James and, while he had been annoying as ever, it had been nice. Maybe part of her was looking for exactly that again. Maybe she just came here because she liked the cold theme. She was a skater and sister to Captain Cold. Why wouldn't she like the chilly atmosphere.

Tonight she was wearing all black. A nice long sleeve shirt with a simple orange thread design, black dress pants and black heels. Yeah, needless to say, it seemed her mood was getting worse despite having seen both Mark and James. She let out a small sigh, pushing through the crowd to the bar.

Leaning on the counter, she glanced at the patrons, seeing all suits and dresses. Quietly, she ordered a drink and returned to people watching. It was boring. So boring that the most interesting thing was a man that stood out terribly. There was nothing wrong with him other than the fact that he wasn't in a suit.

And looked exactly like her brother.

No way. He was in Gotham? Part of the blond couldn't believe it, didn't want to so she didn't get her hopes up. What if it was him? What if it was and she didn't say anything? He would leave and she would regret a missed opportunity. Ignoring the bartender as he set her drink down, she moved through the crowd until she stood behind the Len look-alike. Leonard Snart? She asked, trying to sound confident and make sure she got his attention. While her voice was steady and sure, she very much wasn't either. Tears were already welling up in her eyes, ready to be the happiest person in the world due to finding her brother, or the exact opposite.

[Captain Cold]

Len traced a thumb around the rim of his glass, while dark eyes focused on the bar top rather than how much scotch he had left, because if he looked at that he might order a third. He could use a third, fourth and fifth drink, but he would rather avoid a drunken stupor tonight. He tended to rob banks without a plan when drunk, and the last thing he needed was a bat and boy wonder after his tail.

He didn’t have much love for vigilantes who thought they were better than other men, who lumped him in with the rest of the criminals, and who thought they somehow scared the piss out of people because they lowered their voice until it was gravely. Len didn’t hand his respect out free, and Batman hadn’t earned it yet. Gotham hadn’t earned any respect from him either.

That dark gaze shifted from the bar top to his scotch, and he flicked the side of the glass with a frown. Piper would have been able to make the damn thing sing, but Len wasn’t a man who could make music out of anything. He wasn’t that delicate. He could crack a safe and aim a gun well, but anything that involved a lighter touch? That wasn’t his thing.

Maybe that was why Lisa hadn’t listened when he told her to quit the Rogue career? He hadn’t voiced it gentle enough for her, so she had taken it as a challenge. If her older brother thought she wasn’t strong enough to be a Rogue, then she would just have to prove him wrong. Her efforts ended up proving his point. Len wished they hadn’t. He really wished he could stop Goddamn thinking about his sister, his Rogues and his emotional baggage too.

Len swore under his breath and considered whether or not he should smash his forehead against the counter. He always, always said that one just had to move on, that there was no point in depression or clinging to things you couldn’t hold on to. He was doing that right now, though. He needed to stop it, preferably before he made himself into too much of a hypocrite.

His plan to give himself a proper headache was interrupted by a feminie voice and his name. Len arched an eyebrow. That wasn’t Selina, who was the only woman in Gotham he knew would talk to him. She would talk to him if she wasn’t still mad about the heist incident, anyway. If it wasn’t Selina, then who the devil had he attracted? One of Penguin’s girls?

“Look, Miss. I don’t...” Len couldn’t finish that sentence, not when he had turned and come face to face with familiar blonde hair and baby blue eyes. Teary, baby blue eyes. His hand was shaking as he reached for Lisa’s cheek, so he could brush the fist stray tear away with a thumb, a big brother impulse that was still built into him. He froze before he touched her and drew his had away like her aura bit him.

“...the fuck?”

Yeah, that was terrible language for a place like this, but other than that Len was tongue tied. His little sister stood there, alive and not dead, as though she had been summoned by his earlier brooding. Either he was already drunk, had been slipped something (and God, that was possible wasn’t it? He was in Gotham after all), or Lisa was really standing there.

[Golden Glider]

Lisa started shifting from foot to foot as she waited for Len's attention. It was going to end up being a physical pain shortly if he just blew her off and didn't see who was addressing him. While she had seen Mark and James, she hadn't found the one thing that would just make her life better. Mark took care of her, James had tried to get her up-to-date and lift her spirits, but neither could compare with blood.

Len didn't even have to say anything, just be next to her. She hoped, as he turned, that he could just hold her. She just needed a little love from her big brother, the one person she had always been able to count on since she was a little girl. God, she was still that little girl that clung to Len's leg and the only good thing in their house. He had been her protector against the world, against Dad. He had been her world while they were growing up.

Those big brother urges were still there. She let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding as he reached for her. The tear ran hot down her cheek, followed by another on the other side. While she would have loved for him to just pull her into a hug, Lisa wasn't surprised by his apprehension. They had been there for each other left and right for so long and then she had been gone. That had to leave a damn big mark.

Yet, no matter how much time had passed, the skater couldn't just let him sit there in a daze. She stepped forward, not exactly jumping on him, but definitely putting more vigor into hugging him than would usually have been necessary. However, this was coming home no matter where they were. This was what she was looking for since she "woke up." This was what she needed most. Maybe this time around she would listen to him more.

[Captain Cold]

The woman -- the illusion -- Lisa stepped forward and embraced him, a practical shove into his arms. That was a silent demand that he hold her close and be the brother she knew, wasn’t it? Len stalled, and though he hated to compare himself to the shitty old car he'd stolen and driven to Gotham, that was exactly how he felt. He stalled, he froze, and he thought he might need a hard kick to pull his shattered thoughts back together.

For a horrible, terrible moment he considered shoving Lisa away, as though she was some kind of cruel trick. If this was a trick, he would murder the bastard responsible; he would murder whoever had picked through his memories and reached for the most important thing he had ever loved and lost. His head demanded he think about this some more, demanded that he consider the possibility that this was bullshit, but his heart stopped him. His heart reminded him that he knew those blue eyes, that blonde hair, and the honesty that was in the woman’s expression before she pressed into an embrace and hid her face against his shoulder.

Len hesitated, as though he thought Lisa might hurt him, and then reached to wrap his arms around his sister and pull her into a stronger embrace. He didn’t care that there was a desperate, clingy edge to it, and that he shouldn’t have been acting so damn pathetic when he was the leader of the Rogues. He cared for his Rogues, more than he was capable of admitting, but none of the boys would ever compare to Lisa. None of them would ever compare to his little sister.

He tightened his hold a fraction more and hid his face against her shoulder, biting back a curse that would've been directed towards how his shoulders started quaking. Shit. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t like this. His shoulders shouldn't be quaking, and his hands shouldn’t be clinging at the back of Lisa’s top as though he was a Goddamn child. He was the older sibling here. It wasn’t her responsibility to deal with him like this.

Leonard Snart had not cried when their mother walked out, leaving her children with an abusive, alcoholic father. He had not cried whenever his father turned that temper toward his son, or whenever he stepped in to protect Lisa. He did not cry when he left home and told Lisa to stay put, because he couldn’t look after her on the streets. He did not cry when Lisa died, when she was murdered and he faced down her killer to deal out justice. Len was not a man who cried.

Despite that fact, Len found that now he needed to choke back a sob. His vision blurred with tears, his chest ached, and it took all he had to keep his defences from completely shattering. There was a part of him that was still aware they were in the Iceberg Lounge, surrounded by people, and that he looked nothing like the strong, capable leader of the Rogues right now, but for the most part he didn’t care. Lisa was right there, somehow alive, and that was all that mattered.

[Golden Glider]

Lisa waited, holding tight to her brother. She felt his hesitation, his unwillingness to allow this. She knew why; she had come out of nowhere. She had been dead and thought never to be seen again. How would it be possible for her to be standing here in front of him, holding him? It wasn't, shouldn't. This left her holding a man and staring at the bartender. The man behind the counter watched her as she silently cried, waiting for this man to hold her.

Oddly, there was a bit of compassion in the man she was staring at over Len's shoulder. He seemed to want to comfort her if Len didn't respond, feeling sorry for her since she was so emotional and being denied the comfort she was seeking. Poor thing. It was a tense moment until the older Snart finally moved. Her eyes closed and was relieved when he wrapped his arms around here.

And all was suddenly right in the world.

The blond had no issue letting the tears fall now despite being in such a public setting. This was a reunion that she would allow no one to take from her. Penguin himself could come waddling over to them, cursing and demanding they leave and she wouldn't be upset. Sure, she might kick the guy in the face for trying to interrupt, but it would be done with very little thought for the man.

She had one concern right now and that was making sure that her family, small and broken as it was, stayed together. As Len's shoulders shook, she rubbed her cheek against his. Small and broken, but definitely still good. She made small, comforting noises as she ran a hand through her brother's hair, trying to step into his shoes and offer him the support he needed. Even though she had been the one to rise from the dead, Lisa had no issues being Len's metaphorical rock. She had never, ever seen Len cry, never saw him break down. He was allowed to crack after all this time.

If she could, the blond would pull her brother into her lap and rock him gently. However, he was sitting, she wasn't, and she was smaller than he was. The ice skater had to settle for climbing into his lap, uncaring of the looks they were starting to get. She continued making quiet sounds. I love you, Lenny, She whispered. Okay, so that probably wasn't the most helpful thing to say when Len was trying not to cry, but she had to say it. It had been too long since someone had told him he was loved, she was sure.

While all the boys had to love each other to still be together, there was nothing like love of true family. Not to mention, since when did the guys get that touchy feely? None of them would say it out loud last she knew so someone had to tell Len that he was special to someone, that he meant the world to someone. While not the most moral person, he did deserve every ounce of love he got.