#finn is honored that leo doesn't consider ALL of their time together to be bad

[howthesleeplesswander]

Finn didn't expect Leo to recognize him. Funny how a few years wasn't even that long in the grand scheme of things, but with so much crazy shit packed into them? It was time enough for a whole new look, a whole new attitude, a whole new perspective on life.

Still, some things never changed: including the mischievous grin he wore as Leo recovered from looking like he'd seen a damn ghost. "And miss the chance to see that look on your face?" Finn couldn't help but tease. But the distinct lack of enthusiasm in Leo's "agreement" sobered him up as fast as a face-full of the snow falling around them.

"Man, you still suck at lyin'." Yet Finn just shook his head, understanding instead of offended. After all, he sure as hell hadn't given anyone a reason to miss him back then. "But hey, for real—where ya' headed? I was on my way back to my lair-of-the-week; why don't you come along if you need a place to crash? It ain't much, of course, but at least it's outta the snow. Oh, and—! Check this out—"

Rummaging in a different coat pocket, Finn produced a jumbo-sized can of chicken noodle soup. "Blam!" he crowed, waving it in the air like some sort of grand prize. "I even scrounged up some grub! Should be enough for both of us."

Now, if Leo had seen this dude—even in broad daylight instead of the dead of night and underneath a gentle flurry of snow (Y’know, stuff that was superb for overall visibility)—he admittedly wouldn’t have recognized him without some scrutiny.

But that twang of a voice—? He’d sorely like to meet someone who wouldn’t be able to put a face to it in a heartbeat.

So, yeah, he flinched. Because of the sudden noise, because of the trailing realization of just who the noise belonged to… Leo felt he had a right on both accounts together, if not just one or the other. Some strange amalgamation of squeak and cough knotted his vocal chords as he tensed and spun around. He blinked very confidently and not at all spooked in the seconds it took for the familiar face to close that distance between them.

And then he tried to understand why—if this was in fact the guy he remembered (and who else would it be?)—Finn was sporting such a friendly, overall not-like-Finn facade. Where’s the knife? Leo wondered, eyes quickly skating his appearance up and down. Why haven’t you pushed me against a wall and threatened me, yet?

What happened?

“Gods,” he eventually exhaled with a hand clutching the front of his coat. “Wear a bell or something next time, man. Heart attacks mean being less alive and not kicking. They’re real.” But he’d recovered from worse. On many occasions. Because Leo Valdez was far too stubborn to die or stay dead. Apparently, the same could be said for Knifeless Guy.

Though he still felt a humming energy in his veins, something more than just the usual restlessness, he forced a few of his coiled muscles to relax. Another breath slipped out of his lips and into the cool air, and his weight shifted between his feet. “Oh, yeah, I mean…” He shrugged. The cool guy, I'm-totally-not-intimidated-by-you kind of shrug. “Missed you loads. Not a day went by that I wasn’t just inconsolable, so— Ditto.”