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“Something troubles you.”
Len crosses his arms. Ignores the gnawing in his stomach, the all-too familiar sensation of guilt. His eyes stay firmly on the ground, on the scuffs of his boots. The feeling of leaded feet. “We agreed we wouldn’t talk.”
“I never agreed to that,” he says. “You seemed to think I would.”
“Stop,” Len snaps. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“I’m not going to hurt you, Leonard.”
Len’s gaze snaps up. “Len. If you’re going to pretend to be Ray Palmer, you can at least get the nickname right.”
Ray blinks back at him, separated by a wall of glass. “I am Ray Palmer.”
“Oh, don’t try that,” Len says, more exasperated than furious. “We’ve been over this, Indigo. You’re using his body. Not his mind.”
It’s kind of strange, Len thinks. The light is supposed to be indigo. He’s been told repeatedly, by Rip, by Mick, by the Green Lantern that’s been hanging around. Ray is possessed by indigo light. Compassion. A parasite feeding on his good nature.
But the light that tinges Ray’s gaze seems more violet than anything else. “That is false. Ray Palmer is-“
“Would not refer to himself in the third person, thank you,” Len says. “If you want to talk to me, don’t pretend you’re him.”
“But you want to speak to Ray Palmer,” Ray says. “So here I am.”
And he is. And he isn’t. He’s wrong. His smile is off. His eyes aren’t right. And the way he holds himself carries something Ray never held on his shoulders. Power. Elegance. Force.
That’s not who Ray is. That’s not what he stands for. “Then let him take the ring off. So I can talk to him.”
“I can’t do that,” Ray says.
Len swallows. He doesn’t mention that Ray is the third team member to be brainwashed, and held down here like a caged animal. First Mick, then Carter. And now Ray.
Len’s two for three on getting people brainwashed. It’s a real accomplishment. Like he had been fond of himself to begin with.
“You know,” Len starts. Pauses. Ray’s pressed his hand against the glass, and Len swallows the urge to mirror the movement. This is not Ray. This is not a show of solidarity. “The lantern upstairs told me a bit about you, Indigo.”
“Alan Scott speaks on many things he does not understand,” Ray says.
“You say that,” Len says. He doesn’t take this as an in, but certainly as something worth noting. “But he made a very interesting point to me. Talked about the- What do you call it? Indigo Tribe?”
Ray gazes at him. And Len is so used to it, to looking Ray dead in the eye, that he has to remind himself not to. The clear signs of his possession make Len feel sick. Helpless.
Guilty.
“You’re no saint, are you, Indigo?” Len asks. “Scott doesn’t know your real name. Doubt you were born an Indigo. Doubt there’s a word for it, on whatever planet you’re from.” He paces. Ignores the calculative way Ray’s looking at him. The coldness of it. The beginnings of a sneer on Ray’s face.
“What’s your point?” Ray asks.
“Your tribe isn’t made up of good people, is it?” Len asks. Hands clasped behind his back. He returns the steel in Ray’s eyes with a healthy dose of his own. “It’s made up of crooks. Killers. Like you were.”
Ray juts out his chin. Pride. “You’re correct, Leonard.”
“And I thought about it, you know,” Len says. “Thought about the situation leading up to this. To Ray getting your little gift. And do you know what I realized?”
“What?” Ray asks, though Indigo already knows the answer. And Len does. And Ray is caught in the middle. Perfect.
“The ring was for me,” Len says. “You wanted a human. Me, specifically. Because I’m a bad person, right? I’m a bad, bad man, and you wanted to force me to do good.”
Ray smirks. Like Len needed another reminder that someone else is wearing his boyfriend’s skin. “Ray Palmer took the ring from your body before you could be inducted,” Ray says, carefully. “So he is Indigo, instead.”
“But you don’t need someone like Ray,” Len says, too quickly. “He’s already good. Golden, even. You don’t need to force him to fly around, patrolling the universe. He’ll do it on his own.”
“Love,” Ray says. Out of the blue. His hand glows violet against the glass. “You love him.”
“What?” Len says. “What does that-“
“Ray Palmer wants to see the stars,” he says. “This is exactly what he needs to be the hero he deserves to be. In time, I will slacken my grip on his mind, and he will be the greatest warrior the universe has ever known. A god. An idol.”
Len shakes his head. “You can’t-“
“But you love him,” Ray says. “And so you want to keep him by your side, where he is of no use.”
“He’s of use to me!” Len shouts, before he can think better of it.
Ray’s hand bleeds into red. “Rage.”
“Stop.” Len rubs the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Stop. I’m not going to fight you. I’m going to offer you a deal.”
Ray pulls his hand off the glass. Cooly crosses his arms. “Yes?”
“I’ll do it,” Len says. “If the ring was meant for my goddamn hand, then let me be the goddamn Indigo fucking Lantern. Let me take the ring, and let Ray go.”
“No.”
Len pauses. “What?”
“I said no,” Ray says, like he’s speaking to a child. “I don’t want you.”
“Bullshit you don’t,” Len says. “Leave Ray out of this. I get that you’re upset that he ruined your little plan, but-“
“He didn’t ruin my plans,” Ray says. “He showed me an entirely new way. He’s brilliant. Did you know that?”
Len grits his teeth.
“You, Leonard Snart, are a waste of time,” Ray says, completely certain. And it is not Ray saying it. It’s not. It’s his voice, his words, but not Ray. “Ray Palmer is the perfect hero. That is what I have been doing wrong. Going after those like me. But look- The galaxy still fears us. The Indigo light. Ray will change that. The universe will love him. He will be adored by all. Trillions, Leonard Snart. Can you even imagine?”
“He’s your puppet,” Len hisses. “Don’t you dare make it sound like this is for him. You don’t care about him at all.”
“You are wrong,” Ray says. “He is my champion.”
Len slams his hand against the glass. Ray startles, if only for a moment. Len can count that as the tiniest of victories. “Let. Him. Go.”
Ray looks bemused. Bored. “I’m growing tired of this cell, Leonard Snart,” Ray says. “Tell your captain I have entertained this for long enough. Release me, or suffer the consequences.”
“So you can fly Ray across the fucking star systems?” Len says.
“He needs to be trained,” Ray replies.
“You’re not going anywhere with him,” Len says. “Do you hear me? You’re staying right here until we get your ring off.”
Ray lets out a mirthless, mocking laugh. “Fear,” he says, and the containment cube glows a horrible, pulsing yellow. “You don’t want to lose him. I know he loves you, Leonard Snart.” Violet, once more. Forming a new Ray against the glass. One with the eyes he knows and loves, made of light. “I will return him to you, one day. Once he has learned. I will let you be together.”
“Fuck you,” Len says. There is usually more composure to his insults. More skill to his deals. But there is usually a clear way out. Or a less important life on the line.
If he was in the line of fire, he’d laugh this off.
But he can’t risk Ray. He can’t.
The light fades, and Ray regards Len once more. Shrugs. “I will return to my meditation.”
“You can’t hold him forever,” Len says. “He’ll fight you.”
“You are wrong, Leonard Snart,” Ray says. “You are wrong about many things.”
“We’ll see,” Len says. Takes in a deep breath. “Gideon. Lights.”
“Nok, Leonard Snart,” Ray says. “Let compassion guide you.”
The room goes dark, save for the gentle Indigo glow. It surrounds Ray like a barrier, like a shield. Like a prison.
Len spares him one forlorn look before he leaves.