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[catchacold]

( ACTION | AUDIO | MIRROR | TEXT | VIDEO )

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[catchacold]

M-hm.

Mustn't know a lot of idiots.

[Leonard's eyes are on the communicator as he throws it up in the air again, but his eyes flicker back to Ray. He catches it anyway.]

[shrinkage]

And he doesn't make bitchy comments that people have to parse all the time.

[ grumble grumble. ]

[catchacold]

[There's a brief smile, for whatever reason. It's been a while since he's been called bitchy.]

I reiterate my previous statement.

[shrinkage]

[ one of these days ray's eyes are going to roll out of his head. ]

He also has hair.

[catchacold]

[Leonard lifts himself up a little, sitting straighter and finally there is actual concern.]

...just tell me he's not going full afro.

[Small mercies, please.]

[shrinkage]

[ ray tries to capitalize on it, shrugging and looking impressed. ]

I thought it looked good, actually.

[catchacold]

Yeah? I've no idea how I ended up getting good genes.

[Seems to him as if the odds ought to have been slim.]

[shrinkage]

[ that loses ray, and his brow furrows as he tries yet again to parse out the subtext. maybe there's no subtext at all. sometimes it's just pure and simple miscommunication. ]

Wait, what?

[catchacold]

[He finally sits up completely, leaning forward so he can catch Ray's eyes and stay as seriously as he can.]

I don't shave my head as a fashion statement.

[shrinkage]

Well-- yeah. [ what? first underwear, now hair? ] I assumed it was just utility...

[catchacold]

Sort of. Curls are adorable. I'm not.

[He shrugs his shoulder and tilts his head to the side.]

So. I'm nice, not sarcastic, grow out my hair and that's it?

[shrinkage]

[ ray's not blushing you're blushing ]

Yep.

[ nothing else, nope. not even a little. gee he should start reassembling the suit and get it shrunk down and put into his pocket rightthisinstant. ]

[catchacold]

[Right. Right, that is almost... cute.

Still warrants an eye-roll.]

You're right, no one will think I'm him. Leo. Haven't heard that in a while.

[shrinkage]

Really? I could see you being a Leo.

[ raymond pls. he distracts himself with his work, and that's usually when he says the most idiotic of things. the gauntlet thingy's connected to the ... elbow thingy. ]

[catchacold]

Gemini, actually.

[Leonard is watching Raymond, not ever that conscious of it, but if he was ever in a situation where he'd have to assemble this, he might well be able to.]

Used to be Leo. Long time ago. Snart works.

[shrinkage]

[ given snart's propensity for understanding the workings of most things living and non, ray would be surprised if he wasn't already able to tear it apart and put it back together with relative ease. ]

Why not keep it? It's not that bad.

[catchacold]

[Possibly true, but he's still watching. Learning. It's something to put some focus on.]

It's a boy's name.

[shrinkage]

[ ray's nod is muted but understanding. the comment strikes against something he's always felt, but never bothered commenting on. while snart uses his attitude and words for distance, ray uses his technology, now. ]

Right, yeah.

[catchacold]

I don't need protection, Raymond. I don't want it, either. Be a hero to those that do.

[Bringing them back to the subject of the mirror. Or perhaps something else.]

[shrinkage]

[ it strikes again. a boy's name. ]

I'm trying to be your friend. I told you, I don't think there's room for any heroes in Wonderland.

[catchacold]

But there's room to be a friend?

[He says nothing for a while, more of a rhetoric question than anything. Instead he watches Ray. Always under scrutiny.]

Why are you so desperate to be a hero?

[shrinkage]

[ for anna. (no, that's not true anymore.) because you can't sit by and do nothing when people are being hurt. (well except that's exactly what he did while the mirrors were down.) ray sighs, letting his head drop. ]

I don't know.

[catchacold]

Don't think I've ever done a thing without knowing why.

It's about the score, Raymond. That's what you have to live with in the end.

[He's silent for a moment, leaning his head back against the wall and looking at the ceiling, his thumb brushing against his little finger and nails dragging along the mattress as he curls his other hand into a fist.]

Or die for.

[shrinkage]

Sorry. I just don't think that it's for me.

[ words he's heard before, that still don't quite stick with him the way they're apparently supposed to. it doesn't help that it's a concept he thinks he's already tried and failed at living by -- business had never really been his thing despite the fact that he excelled at it. ]

[catchacold]

Doing things for a reason isn't for you?

[He doesn't say that this explains a lot. No jab, no joke. Maybe precisely because it really does explain a lot. Not so funny.]

Why are you so angry that I died? Because you didn't get to?