#summoning the fandom for help like force ghosts for advice

[sev-says-so]

Writing a paper on narrative inconsistencies between the films and EU. It’s a fairly short paper and I’m not really familiar with the EU that much but I did spend years of my life in a Catholic school that let me study world religions. So I’m focusing on the different interpretations of the force between different writers for the Star Wars universe. If anyone has any suggestion on which eu material I should feature or links to interviews I could reference that would be helpful and very welcome. Any input from this community is welcome to be honest. Pray for me y’all.

[buffster]

To Shanshu in L.A (ATS 1.22)

This is part of my ongoing Buffyverse Project, where I write notes/meta for every episode in an attempt to better understand the characters and themes of the shows. You can find the BTVS list here and the ATS list here. Gifs are not mine.

Should we skip everything and go right to the catharsis that was Lindsey getting his hand chopped off? No? Okay, fine.

The finale starts with Wesley still trying to interpret the scroll; specifically, the word “Shanshu”. He still hasn’t cracked it, which Cordelia is enjoying poking fun at him about. Unlike with Buffy, Angel is the glue that holds this random group together. They’re all bound by a loyalty and respect for him. Gunn, Cordelia, and Wesley have no separate ties to each other as of yet. It frequently forces Angel into the role of mediator. 

The gang quickly discovers that Lindsey is back at Wolfram & Hart and promoted. Wesley seems shocked, Angel less so. Cordelia is just intrigued by the benefits package. David Nabbit drops by for a visit and continues to be in awe of them. You can tell he so badly wants to be a part of AI, but ironically the best thing he could do for them is financial advice or financial help, which is exactly what he’s tired of. I’m not really sure why his character sticks around so long. 

After his visit, Wesley realizes he knows the meaning of the mysterious Shanshu: death. Angel isn’t in the least concerned that he’s just been prophesized to die, in stark contrast to what we saw Buffy face in Prophecy Girl. Cordelia and Wesley are concerned he’s cut off. But really...what does anyone expect of him? He can’t find any real happiness, first because he’s undead and second because of that pesky curse. Being cut off is kind of a must for him. Of course, Cordelia tries to tempt him from the edge with coffee and doughnuts. 

For the most part, everyone leaves Angel to his distance. They understand it more than Buffy’s friends do on her show. (Side note: I feel like if Buffy and Angel had started at the same time the whole fandom would be shipping the two leads and dreaming of them meeting. They both carry similar burdens that cause them to be cut off). 

Angel later runs into Detective Lockley, who is keeping track of all supernatural cases and earning ire from her colleagues in the process. She seems hardened and is in a pretty dark place. Her attitude to Angel is pretty brutal. I think it would’ve probably been better to wrap up her arc as a lesson in some people not being able to handle the supernatural (seeing as she wasn’t going to stick around long term). She seemed nice, we liked her, but ultimately, she snapped from the change in worldview. It would have been more satisfying than what we got, anyway. 

Vocah (a demon summoned by Wolfram & Hart) kills the Oracles, traps Cordelia in a never-ending vision, steals back the scroll needed to summon Darla, and blows up Angel’s office with Wesley inside it. Angel manages to pull Wes out, but things are looking pretty bad for our hero when he runs into Kate again. 

Kate: I'm glad we're not playing friends anymore. Cause I'm not your friend. And I am real sick and tired of your attitude. Let me explain something Angel, there's a little thing called the law, and I don't care what kind of midnight creature you are, you're not above it.

Angel: This isn't about the law, this is about a little thing called life. Now I'm sorry about your father, and I'm sorry about all the other ghosts in your head -- but I didn't kill your father and I didn't put those ghosts there and I'm sick and tired of you blaming me for everything you can't handle. You want to be enemies? Try me.

I have to admit, I was cheering him on here. She was really starting to wear on my nerves. 

Once the ghosts of the Oracles tell Angel he needs to retrieve the scroll to save Cordy he turns to Gunn for help. Poor guy doesn’t get much appreciation but does Angel a lot of favors. Angel sends him to the hospital as Cordelia’s guard, which I’m doubtful went off without a hitch. 

We get to see that all this effort is so Wolfram & Hart can raise something to deal with Angel. There’s something about the lawyers that’s just begging for someone to teach them a lesson. Holland is oh-so-casual about turning up late to rituals because they last forever and they’re all very confident about dealing with demons. It’s just the Senior Partners they seem to fear. They all arrive at the ritual confident things will go as planned until Angel busts in. 

Lindsey: I see that you're either the one with the power, or you're powerless.

Angel: Uh huh. Do you see what I'm gonna do to you if you don't give me that scroll?

Angel fights Vocah and eventually triumphs. Then, in one of his most spectacular moments, Angel throws his scythe and cuts off Lindsey’s hand before he can throw the scroll in the fire. Buffy would never have done it. And it was glorious. I really enjoy Angel’s lack of empathy for people who have chosen evil. He knows all about being committed to that life and isn’t about to mess with people who are choosing that. He’s pretty cynical about it, honestly. 

Angel brings Cordelia back with the help of Wes. She seems scarred by her experience and realizing how many people need help. 

In a moment of spectacular wrongness, Wesley realizes he interpreted the prophecy incorrectly. It doesn’t say Angel is going to die. It says he will become human. This actually seems to have an effect. You can see the idea dawn on his face and realize with him that it’s something he’s always wanted, even if he never dared dream of it. I think it seems like a real possibility to him when he learns of the prophecy because he knows he has to earn it. Some part of him knew he hadn’t in I Will Remember You, which is why he gave it back pretty easily. But this is a real chance to change the never-ending cycle of his existence and redemption.

Guess who’s back, back, back, back again? Darla’s back, back, back, tell a friend.

Character Notes:

Cordelia Chase: She goes out to buy art supplies in an attempt to help Angel connect. I like that Angel seems to at least appreciate her efforts. I think he’d be touched, even if he never used the supplies.

[lawonderlandwriter]

A list of things that confuse me

So let me get this straight:

Apparently...

Jon is “undercover” and is only playing Daenerys, pretending to be in love with her (and is really in love with Sansa), in order to get her to help in the War for the Dawn. BUT because of an early script leak saying Daenerys summoned Jon to her room to discuss something in private (despite this being scrapped in the final version of the episode and Daenerys looking genuinely surprised to see Jon when she opens her cabin door), Daenerys actually “raped” Jon...even though he’s the one taking charge during sex, flipping her on her back, setting the pace of their kissing, action, etc. etc. But even though he is being “raped” Jon is seducing Daenerys to ensure her continued support...?

Apparently...

D&D are idiots when it comes to writing Sansa, making her seem selfish and full of herself when she tells Arya “You should be on your knees thanking me...Jon lost the Battle of the Bastards...The Knights of the Vale came for me...” BUT when it comes to Daenerys being written as much darker than BookDaenerys, it’s because D&D are trying to make it more obvious to the audience that she’s actually an antagonist and is going to turn against our gang in Season 8.

Apparently...

Robert Baratheon is widely acknowledged as a pig, drunk, adulterer, wife abuser, all around horrible guy. He called Cersei “Lyanna” when they were having sex on their wedding night. BUT a certain part of the fandom thinks it would be hilarious or is actually hoping that during a Jon/Daenerys sex scene in Season 8, Jon will call Daenerys “Sansa.”

Apparently...

People want Jon to listen to Sansa’s advice, her opinions, make her like an acting Queen where her words goes. Sansa tells Jon is 7x01 what a legitimate threat Cersei is “You’ve been so consumed with the enemy to the North, you’ve forgotten about the one to the South...We still have a Wall between us and the Night King, there’s nothing between us and Cersei...You’re the military man but I know her...Everyone who’s ever crossed her, she’s found a way to murder...” BUT when Daenerys is concerned about Cersei as a threat to the parts of Westeros she currently holds and the people there “I can’t forget what I saw North of The Wall, and I can’t pretend Cersei won't take back half the country the moment I march North...” suddenly Daenerys is a selfish bitch for wanting to protect her people from Cersei and she should just go North, neglecting the welfare of her people in the South.

Apparently...

People think Daenerys is pretentious and ridiculous when she calls herself Queen and all her accomplishments are named off, pointing to the Tywin Lannister quote “Any man who must say I am the king is no true king...” BUT they cheer when Jon “stands up” to her by telling her “I am a King” during the war room meeting about going on the wight hunt.

Apparently...

Daenerys is selfish for wanting a truce with Cersei and the whole idea of the wight hunt is for her benefit and her benefit alone...BUT when she risks her life to go save Jon (the man she loves) and co from the entire army of the dead, she’s stupid for getting her dragon killed and risking her life, claiming her death would mean the Dothraki would then reek havoc on all of Westeros.

Apparently...

Sansa has suffered THE MOST in the series because she was held prisoner by the Lannisters, she was abused by Joffrey and his King’s Guard, and she was raped by Ramsay...BUT Daenerys, who was also raped by her husband that she was forced to marry, held captive and beaten by the Dothraki, was raised on the run with her sexually, physically, and verbally abusive brother for the whole of her childhood has “had everything handed to her simply because she has dragons” and she doesn’t deserve to be happy but instead will turn into a villain that requires vanquishing.

Apparently...

When Jon is still in the Night’s Watch and it’s the battle against the wildlings and he tells Ed to “drop fire on them” if the wildlings attempt to breech the gate with the mammoths (even though Jon KNOWS that Mance only wants to get them south of The Wall to keep them safe from the army of the dead), it’s okay...BUT when Daenerys burns the Tarly’s for refusing to bend the knee, she’s a tyrant and a “Mad Queen” for using fire to kill an enemy.

Apparently...

Speaking of killing people and executions...Though it’s Stark tradition to “swing the sword” when the person passes the sentence, Sansa doesn’t kill her enemies that she sentences to die (Baelish and Ramsay), it’s okay for her to let someone else (or something) do her bidding...BUT when Daenerys uses the dragons to execute people or Daario, she’s weak and/or also mad.

Apparently...

Sansa stans hate the idea of Jon being subservient to Daenerys and being her “King Consort” of the Seven Kingdoms...BUT they want Sansa to be Queen in the North and use her influence as a Stark and as Queen to “forgive” Jon for his bending the knee to Dany, be his shelter from the wrath/stupidity/judgement of the Northern Lords once it comes out that he’s a Targaryen, and basically be her King Consort instead.

Apparently...

When early script leaks of Season 7 say things that point to Daenerys being a “tyrant” - summing Jon to her room, using the word “submission” when it came to Jon bending the knee - also cutting the Ghost scene where Jon tells him to “keep her safe for me” (even though another earlier leak this was only worded as “keep anyone safe who’s name is Stark...”) all of that is legitimate...BUT when there are parts of scripts posted that mention things like Jon realizing he’s in love with Daenerys when she pledges to help fight the Night King (boat scene), Jon oggling Dany on the cliffs when she’s watching the dragons, Jon and Dany’s moment in the Dragonpit being romantic, Jon and Dany being mutually attracted to each other when they’re in the cave together, and Jon and Dany MAKING LOVE during the boatsex scene (because WHY would it be anything else???), all of that is potentially “fake”  even though they’re from the same script leaks as the ones mentioning the Ghost scene and Dany summoning Jon to her room.

Apparently...

Speaking of sources, when Liam Cunningham “liked” a Jonsa video on Twitter, it’s proof that Jonsa is happening...BUT when the actors, writers, show runners, directors, and the music composer ALL SAY that Jon and Daenerys are in love, that they slowly fall for each other over the progression of the season, that their getting together is what George RR Martin had planned all along and is the point of the entire series...it’s in an attempt to throw off the audience to the “fact” that Jonsa is actually endgame -- that Jon is somehow “undercover” OR Daenerys will die and Jon will fall in love with Sansa after.

Here’s the thing: 

All the “evidence” the Jonsa stans point to as “proof” that Jonsa is actually happening...you can use the SAME logic and weak evidence to prove just about anything you damn well please. Facial expressions, wordings of letters, prophecies, scrapped script summaries, book quotes where the characters are thinking about things, etc. etc. 

I’m sure if I look hard enough, I will find a few pieces of “evidence” that points to Theon growing his cock back and ending up on the Iron Throne. 

I don’t care that people ship Jonsa. I’ve even read a few Jonsa fics (THAT DON’T SHIT ALL OVER DANY’S CHARACTER) that were incredibly well written. Ship whatever the fuck you want. It’s fun.

But stop using all these pieces of “evidence” to make Dany out to be a villain when she's not. She’s never done anything worse than any other character - NO this does not excuse questionable actions but all the heroes on GoT are problematic heroes. 

And I’m sorry, but Jonsa just isn’t happening. The “evidence” used to support it is super cherry picking and conveniently leaving out all the other pieces that clearly point to what is already the canon, endgame ship - Jonerys. 

You wanna harp on the old script leaks, you gotta acknowledge the script lines that say Jon and Dany are in love. You wanna harp on Jon and Sansa thinking of each other fondly in their respective POV chapters of ASOIAF, you gotta acknowledge the chapters of the other Stark children where they also think of their other siblings. You wanna talk about the parallels between Jon and Sansa when Sansa is in the Vale, you gotta acknowledge the parallels between the entire journey Jon and Dany go on respectively throughout the fucking series. OKAY? 

And I’m not gonna be nice and tag this J0nsa instead of Jonsa because I want people to see what hypocrites they are and how prejudice they are of a character (Dany) who, in actuality, has a lot more in common with their fave girl (Sansa) than they would ever like to admit.

What are my hopes for next season? 

Jon and Dany live. They have the family they always wanted but neither thought was ever possible. They rule jointly together as equals. Sansa winds up Lady of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North with a husband her age (please not Tyrion or Sandor), who makes her happy...I’m hoping Pod. I want Arya and Gendry to get together. I want Tyrion to be respected as Hand to the King and Queen and Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West and have his own vineyard where he makes The Imps Delight. I want Sam and Gilly to grow old together with little Sam in Hornhill and for Sam to write A Song of Ice and Fire, I want Jaime and Brienne to admit their feelings for each other, possibly share a love scene, and for Brienne to have Jaime’s child, I want Tormund and Ed to survive, I want Missandei and Grey Worm to find peace and happiness, I want Theon and Yara to kill Euron and take back the Iron Islands, I want Sandor to get his revenge on his brother, I want the Golden Company to end up pledging to Jon and Dany, I want Dadvos to make little wooden toys for all his adopted sons’ children (Gendrya kids, Jonerys kids), I want the Night King to be defeated, I want Bran to snap out of his robotness and be himself again and apologize to Meera, I want Cersei to go down in a blaze of glory, I want Ghost to meet a lady direwolf and make more little direwolf puppies, I want Drogon and Rhaegal to fly off and be free to roam the world but still know that Daenerys is their mother and occasionally fly back to Dragonstone to visit, and last but not least...I WANT BRONN TO GET HIS FUCKING CASTLE!

See what I did there? I described everything I want to happen next season without being totally horrible and unnecessarily hating on any specific character. Wow. It is possible. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Countless Roads - Chapter 1

Fic: Countless Roads - Chapter 1 - Ao3

Fandom: Flash, Legends Pairing: Gen, Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, others

Summary: Due to a family curse (which some call a gift), Leonard Snart has more life than he knows what to do with – and that gives him the ability to see, speak to, and even share with the various ghosts that are always surrounding him.

Sure, said curse also means he’s going to die sooner rather than later, just like his mother, but in the meantime Len has no intention of letting superheroes, time travelers, a surprisingly charming pyromaniac, and a lot of ghosts get in the way of him having a nice, successful career as a professional thief.

A/N: Have an extra-long first chapter to get us properly started. All comments welcome and appreciated!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You stay the hell away from him!" the voice roars.

Len shakes and shudders and curls up in a ball on the floor.

Juvie is worse than he could have imagined – oh, the kids themselves are bad enough, pushy and mean and some of them are old enough for the look in their eyes to be more than standard schoolyard aggression, but it's only Len's first day; they're going to wait until the guards lose interest in him before trying anything.

The ghosts don't wait at all.

It's a bad place, a centering ground, land that stinks of sadness and anger and sucks in ghosts like a whirlpool. Human misery is the only company these ghosts have –

– at least, until Len arrives.

The unquiet dead gather their forces as he gets checked in, watch him, teeming with anticipation, in the yard, and then come for him right after dinner.

His own ghosts, bought in coin – pieces of future years – spent before he came, try their best to protect him, but he underestimated the number of unquiet dead lingering here. He underestimated the number of murderer's victims, children and adults, the number of suicides, the number of unlucky daredevils, the number of accidental deaths –

And then Mick – though Len doesn't know his name, not yet – rips them off of Len, one leech at a time, and puts himself between them and Len's shaking, spasming body.

"Hurts," Len rasps, unable to say more.

"Don't worry," the other boy says, glaring. He's big, for a teenager; a promise of height and breadth in the future. "I won't let them near."

"Gimme a hand up?" Len asks.

The boy shakes his head, and that's when Len realizes.

"You're dead too, ain't you," he says, flat as a stone.

"I've been here the longest," the boy responds, shrugging. "Since before they built the place."

Len sighs and climbs to his feet. He'd so hoped, seeing the boy’s strength, that he'd finally met another of his kind, but no; the boy's just another apparition. Barely that, even; he has a very strong presence, probably due to his age, but he’s not even a poltergeist on his own merits.

"Thanks," he tells him anyway, because apparition or not, the boy did just save his life.

"Don't mention it," the kid says.

The funny thing is, he really seems to mean it. No favors requested, no suggestions that Len repay him, nothing.

If anything, the guy seems to avoid Len whenever possible – which isn't much, because he comes rushing in whenever the unquiet ghosts float too close.

"Why are you helping me?" Len asks him.

"Don't like bullies," the kid says shortly. "Never did."

Then he retreats again, dashing away every time Len comes anywhere near him.

"Don't you want something?" Len asks. "Something you want to do?"

"Nah," the kid replies. "I'm good."

"You're a ghost. You gotta want something."

"Not from you, you little punk."

The curiosity is starting to get to Len. Finally, he gives up on trying to figure out the kid's angle and takes a different approach.

"What's your name?" he asks.

The kid-ghost blinks, then narrows his eyes at him warily. "What's it to you, necromancer?"

Len makes a face. "I ain't a necromancer," he protests. "I can't raise dead or command ‘em or nothing; I just make 'em closer to real, s'all. Life-sharing. Totally different."

“Uh-huh. And what about summoning ‘em and making ‘em possess people or something?”

“No, that’s mediums. I ain’t never even met one of those, but I hear they’re creepy. I just…share, s’all.”

"Why you want my name, then?" the kid asks, still suspicious.

"'cause I'm getting tired of calling you kid-ghost," Len replies, exasperated. "And right now I don't got anything to shout if I need your attention."

"You've always got my attention," the kid grumbles. "My ma says you give someone your name, you give 'em power over you."

Len rolls his eyes. "Well, my name is Leonard Snart, but sometimes when my mom got mad she’d use the full on Leonard Jacob Snart birth certificate business. Now you know, so don't misuse it. And nice to meet you."

The kid finally cracks an involuntary grin. It changes his whole tough face, making it go bright and delighted, smashing that tough guy image with glee. "Oh what the heck," he says. "I'm Mick. That's Michael Christopher Sebastian Rory, actually, but everybody called me Mick."

"Nice to meetcha, Mick," Len says. "I'd offer to shake, but...well…" He wiggles his fingers. Magic, life-giving fingers.

Mick sniggers.

Maybe there is something to what Mick's ma said about names, because after that they're inseparable. Best friends from different eras, friends like neither of them ever had before. Maybe they’d have been best friends in this life, if only Mick wasn’t dead, but Len will take friendship with a ghost over nothing.

The other kids think Len's crazy, talking to himself, and ostracize him, relegating him to the outcast table with the quiet dangerous ones like Jumping Jimmy and Shrieking Sam and Cuckoo Charlie. (Len gets dubbed Lunatic Leo, which, ugh. He’s going to find a better nickname if it kills him.)

But really, Len doesn't mind where he sits, so long as he's got Mick.

Sitting at the crazy outcast table is kinda funny, actually; Mick's a pretty good judge of people, Len's found, and his invisible commentary over people's heads is hilarious.

"He's just got no volume control and a spoiled temper," Mick says of Sam. "Nothing to worry about."

"Ma said people like him just had a devil in 'em keeping them from sitting still," he says of Jimmy. "It ain't no problem, long as they keep busy."

"And Charlie?" Len asks, amused.

Mick considers this. "I think he's gonna grow up to eat people. Stay away."

Len snorts, but does.

Mick’s damn useful in a fight, which Len does inevitably get into, shouting advice (mostly “duck” and “hit him in the face”), and Mick likes watching fights, too. But most of all, Mick likes fighting the unquiet ghosts himself; in particular, he's got a real hatred of a group of white supremacists that got themselves stabbed in a gang fight back when the juvie was a real prison. They hate Len, which makes sense what with him being Jewish and all, but they still want his life, and that just pisses them off more, which means more fights for Mick.

"You like punching Nazis, huh?" Len teases.

"Hell yes," Mick says. "They're bad stuff, through and through."

"Regular Captain America you are."

"Who?"

“What d’you mean, who? Captain America! From the comic books!”

“I’m dead,” Mick points out. “I don’t keep up on popular culture.”

“No way,” Len says stubbornly. “Captain America’s been around forever. I’m pretty sure he was drawn punching Hitler in the face on his very first cover.”

“Say, that’s not bad,” Mick says, grinning a bit. “Punched him in the face, you say?”

“Didn’t you read comics?”

“Sure I did,” Mick says, crossing his arms. “Joe Palooka, Dick Tracey, Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers – the whole lot of ‘em.”

“What the hell are those?”

“You don’t know those?”

“I think I’ve heard of Buck Rodgers – he a spaceman or something?”

“Yeah, him and Flash Gordon, both of ‘em. Dick Tracey’s a sleuth, and Joe Palooka’s a boxer.”

“Don’t you got any crime fighters? Like in costumes? Superheroes?”

Mick wrinkles his nose when he frowns in thought. “Uh, I mean, I guess maybe the Phantom? It was brand new; real cool stuff, fighting pirates and stuff. They called him the Ghost Who Walks. Real sweet.”

“Brand new,” Len says, shaking his head. “When did you die again? The dark ages?”

“Eh, may as well have been,” Mick says. “We all thought the world was ending.”

“Every generation thinks the world’s ending.”

“Nah, not like ours,” Mick says. “Between the Depression and – what was it they were calling the black blizzards, the Dust Bowl? Anyway, between those two, it was real bad.”

“Wait,” Len says. “When exactly did you die?”

“Late 1936.”

“Shit. You are old.”

“Told ya,” Mick says smugly.

“Was there even a juvie here?”

Mick rolls his eyes. “No,” he says. “The juvie’s only a decade or two old. Before that it was a prison. Before that, it was a particularly badly run farm.”

“…your farm?”

“Well, yes.”

“You were a farmer?! Working the fields, calling in the cows, all that sort of thing?”

“I died first,” Mick reminds Len.

“But still – you’re so old.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no – it’s just – I’m gonna get you all the comics,” Len says, and does, even if it means spending some of his hard-earned money – all the juvie kids get pennies for every hour they work in addition to the required school time – and that of others (mostly the rich kids who get some from their parents in the mail) on some of the old reprints, the ones that go real cheap nowadays and are kinda corny by modern standards. But it's worth it.

Mick loves comics.

He can’t move the pages himself – not unless Len gives him some life, which Mick steadfastly refuses to accept – but Len can flip them nice and slow, letting Mick have time to read each page, and sometimes when Mick’s eyes keep crossing the letters too much to make it fun, Len reads them aloud to him, sound effects and all.

“Man, the library says Snow White hadn’t even come out in 1936,” Len marvels. “You know that? Snow White, man. That’s like the first ever Disney.”

“No, it ain’t,” Mick objects. “Disney’s the one with the shorts, ain’t it? Steamboat Willy. Silly Symphonies. Three Little Pigs.”

“Mick,” Len says solemnly. “You break my heart.”

“I sometimes watch that Disney stuff when they’re on the rec room TV,” Mick says, pouting. “I ain’t totally uncultured. S’just hard to remember stuff from after you’re dead, s’all.”

“You’re running out of life,” Len says, because he’s heard of it happening before. “Ghosts stick around because of what happened during their life, and they only remember what happened afterwards if they’ve got enough left over for it – you sure I can’t give you some?”

“No, Lenny,” Mick says, long-suffering.

Len sulks, and introduces Mick to Alice in Wonderland the next time the rec room’s free.

Probably a tactical error, since Mick shouts, “Off with their heads!” the next fifteen times he dukes it out with the unquiet dead, but hey, it’s funny.

--

“How’d you die?” Len asks one day, when he’s only got two weeks left to go in juvie, studying a deck of cards he’d lifted from a fellow student.

“Why do you want to know?” Mick asks, suddenly guarded.

“’cause I’m a nosy bastard,” Len says, since he can’t explain why he actually wants to know, which is that he wants to give Mick a gift. The dead carry on them what died when they died – clothing, stuff in their pockets, that sort of stuff. But Len’s found that if stuff ‘dies’ the same way a ghost does, he can hand it to the ghost and they can keep it.

He hopes it’s not something too weird. He doesn’t want to have to hang a deck of cards, or electrocute it, or have it get run over by a herd of chickens or something.

…that last one would be hilarious, though.

Mick grunts.

“Please?” Len says, which is rare enough that Mick gives him a suspicious look. “Not like I’m gonna tell anyone.”

Mick stays silent a few minutes longer, and then, abruptly, he gets up.

Len blinks up at him.

“Fire,” Mick says. “I died in a fire.” And then he disappears.

Len scowls in the direction of Mick’s ghostly self. He didn’t feel any passing-on-ness, or whatever you call it when a ghost kicks the bucket for good, so Mick’s just gone somewhere else to sulk because heaven forbid Len tries to learn some personal info about the guy beyond what type of breakfast he prefers (answer: corn mush with milk, or yesterday’s bread crusts – ick!).

On the other hand, it did give Len a bit of an opportunity.

Fire, huh?

Sounds like an unpleasant way to die, but at least it makes giving Mick stuff easier. Lifting a lighter from the guard that likes to smoke is easy enough, and finding a nice shady corner on top of lots of concrete to minimize excess burning is even easier.

Now he just needs Mick.

“Mick?” he asks the air.

No reply.

“Mick, you still sulking?”

Nothing.

“Mick, I could be being attacked right now. I’m not, but I could be.”

Zip.

Len contemplates pretending to die, but that seems a bit melodramatic.

“Hey! Mickey Mouse!”

Still nothing.

Hmm, and Len was sure that that would get him a punch in the face…

Mick couldn’t be gone, could he?

Len swallows. He really hopes Mick’s not gone. He knows that's wrong - you're supposed to hope that ghosts move on, not want them to stay - but he doesn't. He doesn't want Mick to go.

“Hey, Lunatic!” Tommy, one of the more annoying juvie kids, shouts. “Lost your imaginary friend?”

Len grits his teeth.

“Bet he left you ‘cause you were wasting his time,” Tommy taunts. “Poor kooky kid, what’ll he do all on his own?”

It’s just close enough to Len’s real fears that Len ends up punching Tommy in the face.

And then, as expected, spending the next ten minutes getting punched back by Tommy and his friends. And kicked. And –

Okay, the guards really should be intervening. Any time now.

“Hey, hold him down,” Evan Richards says. Evan Richards, never just Evan; he’s the sort of kid that would be – should be – exiled to the crazy person table, but he’s rich and his parents send him loads of treats, so he’s not. He’s got a big old grin on his face that Len doesn’t trust a jot.

“Why?” Tommy says skeptically. “He’s not getting up on his own anytime soon.”

Probably not true – Len’s a stubborn bastard – but closer than he’d like to admit.

Evan Richards’s grin widens. “I’ve always wanted to see what one of these does,” he says, and pulls out a little Swiss army contraption, used mostly for clipping or filing nails, that he’s sharpened well past any reasonable amount.

He’d probably call it a knife, Evan Richards would, but to people like Len, it’s called a shiv.

Shit.

“Mick!” Len screams, because he doesn’t trust the guards but Mick’s always come to help him before – if he’s still here.

The returning bellow of rage is the finest sound Len’s ever heard, right up there with Lisa’s first word (‘up’, as it happens; nothing but the best for his demanding little darling).

But Mick’s a ghost, barely even an apparition, and though he charges the fuckers that are holding Len down, he can’t do anything, just passes straight through, causing no more than a slight chill and a shudder.

“Mick, please,” Len says, struggling and kicking and keeping Richards back, just long enough, just long enough to get a hand free and reach out –

“God, he’s nuts,” Tommy laughs, and the others laughs with him. “Go for it – waste the cuckoo – no one’ll care –”

Mick reaches out and takes Len’s hand in his, and Len pushes, hard, with all the spare life he’s got in him.

Mick yowls, and Len can feel it too, like a zap from touching a live wire or a burst of static electricity, but then Mick’s there and all the kids are turning to look, shouting in surprise and demanding to know where the hell Mick came from and then Mick puts his fist into Evan Richards’ smirking face.

Three black eyes and a hell of a lot of bruises later, the gang breaks up and flees.

“Thanks,” Len pants. He’s pretty damn sore, and it’s only gonna get worse, but he has to find out if Mick’s okay – Mick, who didn’t want the extra power – the extra life –

“Holy crap,” Mick says, staring down at his hands. “I felt that. They felt that. That was – Len?”

“You angry at me?” Len asks. He’s feeling weirdly dizzy, the way you get if you haven’t eaten for three days and then you go sprinting from the cops. Everything hurts, but distantly, like he can’t really feel it.

“Angry – no, it’s not – Len, you’re looking real pale, you feeling okay?”

“Peachy,” Len says, and passes out.

When he wakes up, he’s in a bed in the nurse’s station, and Mick’s scowling at him from the next bed over.

Len’s got an IV.

Why’s he got an IV?

“Mick, why’ve I got an IV?” he asks.

Mick’s eye twitches.

“Uh,” Len says. “Mick?”

“That’s your first question?!” Mick roars.

“…yes?” Len says helplessly. “What, should I’ve started with ‘how are you’?”

Mick looks like he's considering strangling Len.

"I'm sorry," Len offers. Might as well get that out, if Mick’s already mad.

"What?" Mick says, annoyance disappearing into confusion. "Sorry for what?"

"For, you know," Len says, shrugging. "Prying. And sharing my life when you've been real clear you didn't want me to be sharing with you."

Mick stares at him for a long moment. "Len," he says eventually. "It ain't – you don't think it's your fault that I ain't taking bits of your life, do you?"

Well, when Mick says it in that incredulous tone, it sounds kinda dumb.

Len focuses on picking at the band-aid over the IV entry point on the inside of his elbow instead of replying, even though he knows that only reveals his guilt.

"Lenny, stop that," Mick says. "You need the IV."

"You never did say what it was for," Len says.

"It's to keep you alive, you nimrod. You nearly shoved all the life you had left up my goddamn arm."

"If Richards got me with the shiv, I wouldn't've had any life left to give," Len points out, but yeah, he distinctly remembers overdoing it in his panic. "S'that why I pass out like that?"

"That's why you swooned like a leading lady," Mick confirms.

Len glares. "Passed out, Mick."

"Whatever. Len – It ain't that I don't like you, or your life, or even having some of it myself, 'cause lemme tell you, being practically solid's been pretty awesome so far – "

"You're practically solid?" Len interrupts. "I ain't never done that before – "

"Lenny. Lemme finish. This is important."

Len shuts up.

"Anyway," Mick says. "What I mean to say is – I mean – oh, damnit. Len, I don't deserve any of your life."

"You just saved my life," Len says, unable to keep quiet. "Just as you've been doing this past month – "

"I started the fire!" Mick shouts. "I'm a firebug, and I knew it was bone dry, and I started that fire anyways, and that’s why everybody died! It was all my fault! I don't deserve nothing!"

"Oh," Len says blankly.

"Yeah," Mick says savagely, wiping at his face to clean up what they'd both pretend weren't tears when this was over. "So that's why."

Len nods. He's not sure what to say. He doesn't think anything will help a wound so deep that Mick became a ghost over it.

"I've heard of it before," he offers eventually. "Pyromania, it's called."

"What's that?"

"It's – " Len tries to remember. "It's a thing that happens to people, some chemical goes wrong in their brain, and then they start needing to light fires. Like an anxiety thing – can't calm down until there's a fire."

Mick frowns. “There’s a word for it?”

“Yeah,” Len says. “People that can’t help themselves around fires. It’s a medical thing.”

Mick looks stunned.

“What, thought it was just you?” Len jokes, except the look on Mick’s face kinda says that he did. “No, Mick, it ain’t you, if I’m right. It’s a – it’s a thing that happens sometimes, and no one’s to blame, you know. Sometimes people’s brains break, just like any bone, and you need medicine or something like that for it.”

“I still lit the fire,” Mick says, but he seems a little less burdened. “After they told me not to and everything. And even if I didn’t have a choice, I still should’ve warned ‘em about it.”

“That’s on you,” Len says, because people who say it’s not your fault when it is just make you feel worse. “But the fire thing, that ain’t –”

“How are you boys doing?” the nurse says, sweeping in.

“Fine,” Len says automatically, before realizing what she’d said.

He turns to stare at Mick. “Boys?” he mouths at him. What was with the plural?

“Told you I was near solid,” Mick mutters. “Hi, ma’am,” he says to the nurse.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Rory? You were having quite a fit out there.”

“Much better, ma’am.”

“We’ve alerted the police about your being here,” she continues briskly. “Since your name isn’t on the list.”

Len’s eyes go real wide at that.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mick says tranquilly.

“And you, Mr. Snart, how are you feeling?”

“Uh,” Len says. “Okay?”

“Do you need more medicine?”

“Yes,” Len says, because the answer is always yes. Even if you don’t actually need it, you can always sell it.

Also, he’s kinda sore. All over. Everywhere.

Actually, it hurts a lot. Fuzzy and distant, like he’s got good drugs going on, but still not good.

“Is anything gonna happen to the kids what did it?” Mick asks. “Evan Richards and Tommy and the rest of ‘em?”

The nurse looks slightly uncomfortable. “They’ll be punished,” she says, but Len can tell she means that they’ll be slapped on the wrist, at most. Maybe a bit of time in detention instead of out on the school yard.

Well, good enough for Len. He never did trust anyone to give out punishment on his behalf; he’ll figure out a way to pay them back himself later on.

That’s not what’s important right now.

Len waits until the nurse checks them both over and leaves.

“Mick,” he hisses. "They can see you!"

“Told you!”

“What are we gonna do? Your name’s not gonna be on any records! Not any they’re gonna check, anyway!”

“Don’t worry,” Mick says. “It’s fine. It’s fading away already, since you gave it to me all in one shot – look, I’m practically able to go through the bed again. Another day - another couple of hours - and I’ll be back to being invisible if I wanna be.”

“If you wanna be? You’ll still be a full-powered manifestation?”

“You gave me a lot of life, Lenny,” Mick says disapprovingly.

Len shrugs, then brightens and checks his pockets. Good, they didn’t take the cards, or the lighter. “Here,” he says, holding them out. “Burn this.”

Mick stares at him.

“What?”

“I tell you I’m a pyro- a pyro-many – that I’m a firebug, and you gimme something to burn?”

“You died in a fire,” Len says reasonably. “If you burn the cards, you’ll be able to carry ‘em with you as a ghost, even once all the life’s gone.”

Mick’s eyes go wide. “Really?”

“Really. They gotta die with you, or something. Same way you died. Anyways, if you’re a pyromaniac, you’ll enjoy watching them burn, too.”

“That’s what you wanted me to come ‘round for, wasn’t it?” Mick asks, looking guilty.

“It’s fine,” Len says, pushing the cards and lighter into Mick’s hands. “Really – say, how much life I give you, anyway?”

“Why?” Mick asks, pulling the cards and lighter close and cradling them.

“Well – and you don’t gotta do this if you don’t wanna, but – how bound would you say you are to this place?”

Mick blinks.

“I want you to come home with me,” Len clarifies.

Mick’s eyes go wide.