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You're not first on my list, so. Yes.

Mick was gone too, for a while.
You got any idea what's going on with him?

I didn't think I would be.

[Still. Between having been the one to inform Lisa of Leonard's disappearance, and Maya's angry texts when Mick had followed? He'd like to be sure.]

I'm aware of that, yes. His trip was shorter than yours, however. [The prescribed week rather than Leonard's nearly two.

Yet more than long enough for the man to come back shouldering so much suffering from their world.]

He'd been grieving, Leonard--although he seems to have gotten stuck in the denial phase, and I'm fairly certain he hasn't stopped drinking since he got back.

He still hasn't stopped drinking last I checked. Though he did tell me that "both of us" are telling him to drink less, so at least hallucination me has his priorities straight.

[How does it feel to essentially be a living ghost? Not all that good, no.]

I didn't plan for all that. Didn't think that far past dying.

I suppose we should be thankful for that much.

[The hallucination could be telling Mick to do much, much worse things after all.

Yet the fact that he is having visions of his dead partner on top of consuming alcohol non-stop doesn't leave Rip feeling good about the situation.

Neither does the text Leonard sends next.]

Well of course not. Your objective was to save Mick. Outside of that, I doubt anything seemed to matter. [The consequence of that action, the weight it would place on Mick's shoulders. It's the same failing his team so often has when it comes to dealing with time.]

Being the one who survives comes with it's own burdens, I'm afraid.

Yeah. You just never expect to be around when you're the one who didn't survive.

[Within this little hellhole here, pocket dimension or whatever it is, he's essentially a living ghost. At least to Mick.]

We'll adjust. People always do. Then we see what happens next time any of you go back.

The best laid plans.

[Except that's not quite it, is it? As Leonard himself said, he hadn't so much considered the after, and now it's not just Mick who is forced to live with the consequences of that choice.

Quietly, Rip considers that it might be another reason to be glad that neither Miranda nor Jonas have been brought here, lest they become such ghosts for him.]

I'd say it's likely my turn next, but that would assume there's any sort of logic behind this. [Certainly it's a rational enough conclusion (and a safer topic)—everyone has been home recently save for himself. Even Eobard Thawne seems to have gone missing, although Rip can't be sure the man isn't simply sequestered for some whatever reason.] In the meantime, we should keep an eye out for him. Considering how heavily he's drinking, and that he's apparently hallucinating on top of that, the situation could easily turn dangerous very quickly.

[Not just for Mick himself, but for those around him.]

Not a lot of logic to it. Only thing we know is that when I leave, I don't get a neat update. Just nothing.

[And isn't that nice?]

He doesn't like looking at me, but I'll keep an eye on him. He's stubborn, but he's also resilient. He'll work through it.

Just have to watch for fire.

"Not a lot" is likely still giving it too much credit.

[Unseen, Rip frowns as he reads the rest. They can be sure of that, yes--but there have been certain hints Rip's picked up regarding his own future that he can't help but think about. Still, it's nothing Leonard would be able to help detail for him, and that's assuming Rip's willing to hear about what's to come.

He isn't, still--yet the concern that he could eventually be faced with the same nothingness lingers.]

I hope so. And I hope that eventually, he'll be able to take comfort in your presence here. [As opposed to fuel that furthers his grief.]

Indeed. Perhaps the one consolation is that his drink of choice isn't nearly so flammable as other alcoholic beverages. Not that the danger isn't still present, mind. But it could be worse.

He knows what burns best. I'm surprised he's mostly sticking to beer.

[Relieved, in a strange way, because the alcoholism is still there, but, as Rip puts it: It could be worse.]

Maybe we can drink something more flammable. Keep him from burning it.

As am I—but not so curious as to question it.

[Not to Mick's face, at least. The last thing they needed is to somehow make Mick think they're challenging him to drink harder stuff when he doesn't seem to have the idea himself at the moment.]

I'd just rather keep it away from him entirely if it can be arranged. [Given their constant access to magical closets and such.] Beyond that, he doesn't seem interested in drinking with company these days.

He'll work through it. He's resilient.

Just has his own ways of dealing.

As has become clear.

[…]

If the occasion should rise when you decide you might want your own opportunity to drink with company, I've got a rather free schedule.

[To talk, or to not talk; it doesn't matter. Rip still feels it right to make the offer.]

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