I've fallen completely and totally in love with Leonard Snart's character and the development that he's gone through in the Legends of Tomorrow storyline and in an interview Wentworth Miller said that Leonard's not completely a villain. I totally agree and I think that especially with matters close to his own heart, Leonard would take a personal interest, and thus this story was born.


The lock was easy. Not even electronic- Leonard could have picked it in his sleep. He eased the front door open, cold gun held casually at his side. The house was dark and silent…

No, there was the faint sound of a TV from another room on the first floor. A small smile played on Leonard's lips. The house owner, Mike Reed (if he stayed true to form), was probably passed out in front of the TV, beer in hand (or on the floor). Perfect timing.

Leonard stepped lightly into the front hall, sticking close to the wall to avoid creaky spots. A faint glow came from down the hall- probably where the TV was. Quietly, swiftly, Leonard slunk down the hall to peer into the den. As he'd thought, Reed was slumped in a chair. His eyes were half closed and two bottles sat on the side table. One was already empty and the other was halfway there.

Leonard left the man to his drink and hurried quietly back down the hallway to the stairwell. The most logical place for tonight's thievery target would be somewhere in Reed's room. The man didn't have a safe and judging from his lifestyle, wouldn't be very friendly with a bank. As he climbed the stairs, Leonard pulled his goggles from his eyes and let them hang around his neck- the odds that he'd actually have to use the gun were growing slimmer every minute. A step creaked gently under his boot and he froze, waiting for a reaction from downstairs- and in his silence he heard a different noise.

The trickle of a tap, a quiet sniffling noise, and another voice, speaking in soothing hushed tones. The crying one sounded like a young child. Leonard climbed the last few stairs and was greeted by the sight of light shining underneath a closed door- probably the bathroom. Leonard ran through possible scenarios. Reed had two kids, but they should have been asleep at this point. There was the chance that one of them was up using the bathroom, but the noises coming from behind the door left a weird feeling in Leonard's gut. The situation was beginning to feel uncomfortably familiar.

Leonard approached the bathroom door.


Clara Reed dabbed at the cut above her little brother's eye with a wet cloth. He whimpered slightly at the sting and she shushed him quietly.

"It's okay…shh, shh, it's gonna be okay, Nicky," she whispered. She pulled a box of superhero band-aids from the medicine cabinet.

"Who do you think will be on it?" she asked. "I think it's going to be Captain America."

"Th-thor?" Nicky guessed, his whimpers beginning to subside. Clara glanced into the box and pulled one out. She tore it open and held it up.

"Aw, you were right again!" she said. She peeled the paper flaps off and stuck the band-aid over his cut. She glanced into the mirror over the sink and touched her split lip. It would be pretty easy to cover up. The bruises on her arm, however, would mean another week of sweatshirts. She took a deep breath, willing her prickling eyes not to let any tears drop in front of Nicky.

Then the doorknob turned and the door swung open. Clara stepped over to her brother, gathering in her arms, ready to try and shield him from-

It wasn't their father. It was a man in a dark blue winter coat- bizarre, considering it was the middle of May. Some sort of weird gun was held at his side and he stared at them with piercing blue eyes. Clara held Nick a little tighter.


Leonard opened the bathroom door to find a teenaged girl clinging to a young boy. She seemed surprised by his entrance, but didn't let go of her brother. Her eyes lingered on the cold gun, then flicked back up to meet his.

"Please don't hurt us- look, there's jewelry and- and money and stuff in my dad's room, I can show you, I promise, just please don't hurt me. Don't hurt Nicky." Her voice was quiet but Leonard could hear the panic, how close it was to breaking. The little boy buried his face in her shoulder, but Leonard caught a glimpse of a colorful band-aid over his eye. The girl watched him, her eyes wide, her breath coming quickly. He could see purplish bruises on her bicep, a freshly split lip, and a faded black eye.

"Lenny, it hurts!"

"I know, sis, I know. It's gonna be okay, I promise."

Slowly, Leonard let the cold gun drift toward the holster on his thigh. The girl watched his hand, barely moving a muscle. Leonard nodded at the girl's bruises.

"Your dad did that." He didn't phrase it as a question, already knowing the answer. The girl nodded a few times. "And your mom…she's not around?"

The girl shook her head. "She died after Nicky was born," she whispered.

"And that's when your dad started…this?" Leonard asked.

"Not right away. But he already drank a lot and I think losing Mom sent him over the edge." Leonard pressed his lips together and glanced away.

"I'm going to leave in a few minutes. When I'm gone, I want you to call 911 and tell them what your dad did tonight and what he's been doing. Understand?" The girl looked puzzled, but nodded. "I can guarantee you that he's not going to be a problem for you any more." Leonard turned and strode out of the bathroom and down the stairs, abandoning all attempts and quiet. He tugged his goggles on as he went.

Leonard stormed into the den where Reed was rising from his chair, swaying slightly. Leonard could see red spatters on his shirt and knuckles. Reed began to mumble something, but Leonard smacked him across the face with the barrel of the cold gun.

"Looks like I get to use my toy after all," Leonard said, taking aim.


The next day, Leonard was leafing through a newspaper when a small article caught his eye.

Local man arrested for child abuse

Central City man Mike Reed was arrested last night for the abuse of his children after a 911 call from daughter Clara brought police to his house. Reed was taken into custody and transported to St. Andrews Hospital for treatment of second-degree frostbite on his hands. Reports say that doctors were unable to save four of Reed's fingers. Reed is currently facing a felony lifetime sentence at Iron Heights Prison.

Leonard allowed a smile to cross his lips before tossing the paper into a nearby trashcan and heading off down the street.


If you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me what you thought!