Len didn’t really want to think about the last few days and weeks. Barry’s encounter with Thawne and the recovery time after had sort of shattered some of the complacency that he’d built up in this place. It was a reminder that, at least in his lifetime, good things rarely lasted. Which wasn’t to say that he was willing to give Barry up or any of the other things he’d built up here but it was a heavy reminder that their time was finite. His time with everyone was finite. Because either they’d be sent away or he would be and that would be that. Despite his lack of regrets concerning his choice to give up his life, he still didn’t like it any. Just because he’d been willing to die didn’t mean he wanted to. Something he and Barry had been able to relate on for a while now. Same for Mick, in his own way, even if Len had willingly taken that choice away from him.
So he didn’t like to think about it, if he could help it. Focusing on the surrounding people in his life for once was easier. Outside of Lisa he’d always been very personally focused. Now he found he was just the opposite. Focusing on Barry or Mick or his friends like Sara made him focus less on his own fate. His new and focused hatred for Eobard Thawne wasn’t a bad distraction, either. It wasn’t a matter of if he confronted the crazed Speedster. It was when, at this point.
But for now his focus was much more lighthearted and it came in the shape of the grey and white kitten that immediately started scrambling to the edge of the couch and the armrest to get a better look at who or what was at the door. Len took the opportunity to start taking off his jacket and the cat’s attention immediately curved back toward him and he came bounding towards his lap with several mews as if he thought Leonard’s movements meant he was going to get up and leave.
“It is,” Len offered, running his hand again over the little one’s head as it tried, mostly unsuccessfully to crawl up his shirt. “More accurately, it’s your kitten. I was tempted to get you one of the little white ones. Make you call it snowball, or something, but I couldn’t pass this one up. Looks like he’s been rolling around in ash and dirt all day. Thought you could relate.”
He glanced back towards his partner then, and patted the space next to him on the couch as a clear indication for him to sit down. Even from the couch he could smell the lingering scent of gas and motor oil on him. Maybe just a hint of some of that ash from the fire not so long ago that always seemed to linger on Mick’s skin for a while after. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said a pet might be good for him. Something else to focus on besides all of the crap. He knew things were complicated between them in terms of their relationship, if not their friendship and Len was working to fix that but at least until then he could offer Mick a more positive distraction.