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Mick Rory knew a dead man walking when he saw one.
Sometimes it was the look of utter hopelessness in their eyes that said they knew they didn't have long. Sometimes it was because their eyes flicked ceaselessly around them with too much of the whites showing, as they searched for the demons that were hunting them down. Mick was especially wary of that one. Sometimes at night, just before bed he would check in the mirror, worried that he would see that expression looking back because even at 16, he had his own demons. A whole family of them.
He was eating lunch when he heard an increase of whispering around him and he looked up. From where he was sitting with his back against the wall of the juvie dining hall, he had a good view of the entire room. It didn't take long to spot what was causing the excitement.
A new kid was threading his way through the crowd, searching for a place to sit down with his tray and eat his meal. He was young, scrawny and way too pretty for a place like this. The side of his face was a sickly yellow green from a fading bruise, his left eye still slightly swollen.
A wolf whistle made the kid’s shoulders hunch up and he quickly sat down at the first empty chair he came to. The whispers didn't stop though and when a couple of older boys walked past behind him, one of them ran his hand through the curly hair. The new kid ducked and slapped the hand away, causing scattered laughter.
Mick scowled as he went back to eating his lunch. Throwing a kid like that into a place like this was like chumming for sharks. Everything about the kid screamed ‘prey’ and the predators were smelling blood in the water. He wouldn't last long at all.
***
Two hours later, Mick was in the yard lounging against the chain link fence. He didn't like the restlessness that was skittering beneath his skin, knowing it was in response to the excitement, the anticipation that buzzed from the other inmates.
Something was about to happen.
His gaze was drawn to the new kid who was sitting with his back to a wall, keeping his head down but still managing to glower at everything. It was then that Mick noticed that nearly everyone was now watching the kid. Something was about to go down; New Kid wasn’t even gonna last a day.
Life sucked but that was old news.
He plucked a blade of grass and stuck it in his mouth. Raising up his knee, he rested his arm across it while he sucked at the greenery. Looking away, he tried to remember how long it had been since he’d been served any vegetables that hadn't been over cooked until they were a puddle of slimey gruel.
As expected, Mick heard the muted sounds of a struggle. He glanced over and saw two older boys had sandwiched New Kid between them. Shoulders jerk, legs kicked out.
“Fuck! The little bastard bit me!” one of boys shouted as he shoved away. New Kid rolled out from them then scrambled on all fours before regaining his feet.
“Stop him!” the other one yelled. Two nearby kids gave chase.. One hooked his arm but as New Kid was spun around, he kicked him in the nuts. As that attacker dropped to his knees groaning in pain, the other one tackled New Kid. Mick winced; the attacker must have weighed twice as much and he completely swamped New Kid. There was another scream as that attacker rolled quickly onto his back, but New Kid rolled with him, his fingers clawing at his face. The bigger boy kicked hard and sent New Kid flying backwards.
Laughter and curses filled the air, and Mick snorted with amusement. Two more inmates joined the chase and soon all six were trying to corner New Kid who suddenly seemed part rabbit as he avoided his pursuers with quick and unexpected changes in direction.
The chase passed by Mick and New Kid glanced at him as he raced by. Mick was surprised that there was no fear on his face, just determination and anger. Mick felt the shock of acknowledgement at that. It was the kind of anger he knew well, the kind that built and built from all the injustices that kept happening. The kind that would consume him without an outlet.
Inevitably, an attacker brought New Kid down with a flying tackle and more boys piled on top. Guards were sounding their whistles but they were too far away.
Mick lunged to his feet. Six against one little kid? That was just wrong, especially since New Kid was better than all the rest of them combined. Mick had begun rooting for him as he kept outsmarting his pursuers. There was nothing like the building excitement from an underdog on a winning streak to make Mick want to bet on them.
“Hold him down!”
“He’s gonna pay for that!”
“No one laughs at me!”
New Kid’s attackers were out for blood and Mick peeled them off one by one, giving each a hard punch to something important before he tossed them aside. Then he saw a shiv flash down and heard a high pitched yelp of pain.
Suddenly, everyone fled leaving Mick staring into the shocked blue eyes of New Kid. Then they both looked down at the shiv sticking out of the center of New Kid’s chest.
“Fuck!” Mick breathed out in shock.
New Kid looked surprised then his anger returned. He reached up and yanked the shiv out.
“No!” shouted Mick as he waited, horrified, for a gush of blood.
New Kid held up the shiv. Only the last half inch was stained red. “Hit the breast bone,” he explained., rubbing himself over the puncture in his shirt. “I’m Snart.”
“It smarts?” Mick repeated, baffled.
“Snart. My name. Though it does smart.” His face, bloodied with a split lip and his eye swelling shut again, went pale and he flopped back suddenly, like his strings were cut. “I don’t feel so good.”
Four guards thundered up. “Get on the ground, Rory!”
Mick backed up, his hands in the air. “I didn’t--” he started to explained as he knelt down.
“He saved me,” the kid interrupted, raising his voice to be heard over the commotion. “He’s my hero.” And then he smiled at Mick--like he saw in Mick someone who had worth, someone who mattered--and Mick felt like the sun had suddenly come out and broke through the dreary grey that was his life.
New Kid--Snart was it?--was a real firecracker and Mick loved fire in all forms. Looking into those fierce blue eyes, Mick saw the promise of mayhem and excitement. The ground beneath his feet shifted and he knew his life had just changed; he hoped for good because it couldn't get much worse.
He was willing to take this bet.