I decided to start this because I already have like seven or eight prompts written. And also cause Flavia wanted me to. Also, if anyone has a better name for this I'm open to suggestions. I'm setting this in the Flash part of Arrowverse mainly because that's where most of it will take place, plus the majority of characters I like to write for are in this part of the universe.

This series will contain one shots, two shots, and maybe a few three shots. No more than that, though.

Characters: Ray Palmer, Mick Rory

Pairings: None

Genre: Friendship (?)

Notes: LoT season finale happened but everyone lived. Snart and Rory still go on missions with the Waverider crew.

I don't own the Flash or any of the affiliated Arrowverse characters.

GENERAL POV

Somehow it didn't surprise Ray Palmer to hear a knock on his door at 2 in the morning on a Wednesday, especially not when he pulled said door open and found one Mick Rory standing there, leaning heavily on the doorjamb and covered in abrasions.

Ray didn't say a word, merely turned aside and let the man come in, shutting and locking the door behind him. Mick hadn't moved when he turned back around, and it was then that Ray saw the way his right arm clutched at his left, blood sliding down his jacket.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, hovering a hand just over the man's shoulder blade and guiding him towards the kitchen.

Mick grunted and sank heavily into one of the chairs, pulling his goggles from his head and laying them on the table. "Heist went wrong. Leonard got caught by the Flash. Police have my gun. Didn't…didn't know where else to go."

He sounded almost ashamed of the last part and though Ray didn't approve, he didn't make any move towards the phone. Rather, he grabbed a first aid kit from under the sink and handed it over to Mick, running a washcloth under hot water for him as well.

Ray had a feeling that Snart had gotten away from Barry, if only because of the deal they had, but he knew Leonard wouldn't take a chance looking for Mick while the police were looking for them. So for now, Ray really was all he had.

It had been nearly two weeks since they returned from their last mission, Rip giving them all some time to relax and breathe before they set out for the next one. Despite everything, Mick and Leonard had continued with their crimes, though they had been significantly few and far between, and no one ever got injured anymore.

Ray glanced up as Mick grunted in pain and darted around the table to help the man shrug out of his jacket, catching the heavy cloth and draping it over the back of another chair as Mick rolled up his sleeve to examine the bullet wound in his shoulder. "The bullet's not still there, is it?" Ray asked nervously.

"Chill, haircut," Mick grumbled. "Just grazed me."

Ray nodded and stepped back out of the man's space, twisting his hands around each other anxiously and feeling utterly useless as he watched this man clean the wound. "Do you need to like…shower or anything?"

Mick froze in his movements and he looked up slowly, a confused frown on his face. "You gonna call the cops?"

Ray gave him a smile. "Come on Mick. You should know me well enough to know that I wouldn't do that. Seriously, I just…don't want anything to get infected. I've got a couple of shirts that might fit you, too. If you want."

An amused smirk twitched on Mick's face and he ran a weary hand over his chin. "Yeah. Yeah, all right."

Ray practically beamed and he helped Mick towards the bathroom, showing him where the towels were and telling him to use anything he needed.

He shut the door behind him and sighed, walking back out to the living room and sinking onto the sofa as the sound of running water filled the house. As he kicked his feet back on the coffee table his phone vibrated in his pocket once, and Ray pulled it out to see that he had a new message from none other than Leonard Snart.

Mick with you?

Ray snorted and shook his head, stunned that not only had everyone had actually exchanged numbers before leaving the Waverider but that Snart had actually utilized the information. He tapped his thumbs across the board lightly, keeping one ear trained on the bathroom.

Yeah. Taking a shower. Don't have clothes for him though.

His phone buzzed less than ten seconds later with a new message.

Barry's on it.

The scientist nearly laughed out loud, completely unsurprised that Barry and Leonard were in close enough proximity for him to be able to ask for Barry's help.

He set his phone down and picked up a magazine from the table, flipping through it aimlessly and nearly missing the red blur that flew past his front windows, the only proof that Barry had even gone by the fact that his doorbell rang once.

Ray got up from the couch and hustled to the door, pulling it open to find a plastic grocery bag sitting on the stoop, tied up at the top but very clearly filled with clothing.

He shut the door again and looked up as Mick walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and a threatening look on his face despite the way his hand still clutched at his arm. "Who was that?"

Ray tossed the bag at him, watching with an amused grin as the man fumbled to catch it. "Present from Snart and the Flash."

Mick relaxed a little and disappeared back into the bathroom, coming out a couple minutes later in a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt, the bag dangling in his hand with something still inside.

"I'm gonna need help on this part, haircut."

Ray sat straight up from his position on the couch in surprise. "Which part?"

Mick sank down onto the couch next to him and tugged out a roll of bandages and a couple of clasps- courtesy of Caitlin, Ray assumed. "Can't get it tight enough by myself. Need you to hold it."

Ray nodded and scooted as close to the criminal as he dared, taking the wrapping from Mick and unraveling one end. He handed the roll to Mick and held the edge against the man's burning skin while Mick wrapped the gauze around and around his bicep.

Eventually it was tight enough that Ray could let go, and he grabbed for the clasps and held them within reach so that when Mick finished the wrapping, he could hold it together.

Finally situated, the man moved to stand up, and Ray frowned. "Where are you going?"

Mick huffed and gestured to the door. "Leaving? Don't think you want the police showing up on your doorstep."

"Why would they?" Ray protested. "As far as they know, we have nothing to do with each other. Listen, you're hurt and probably in pain and god knows you have nowhere to go aside from some warehouse somewhere. And the dumb thing is that I have a guest bedroom down the hall and Advil in the medicine cabinet and basically what I'm saying is that you're sitting your ass down, Mick, and you're not leaving until I'm sure that gunshot wound isn't infected!"

Ray didn't know when he had started yelling, or when he had gotten to his feet, but he had and his hands were clenched at his sides and Mick was just staring at him in utter shock and all Ray could think was that he was going to die having tried to be kind to a criminal.

To his shock, Mick just chuckled, an actual laugh and not a nasty one, and dropped the bag onto the couch. "Fine. I guess I'll stay."

Ray relaxed a little and tried for a smile, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Right. Yeah, okay. Sorry…sorry about that."

"Yo haircut?"

"Yeah Mick?"

"Thank you. Now shut it."