For a second, Mick is left hanging in Jacob's grip, but even when he gets his balance again he knows he's beaten. Broken arm. Blade at his throat.

Why didn't he just kill Snart when he had the chance?

He bares his teeth at Leonard, since he can't move to glare at Jacob. Still looking for a way out, a way to fight, a way to just crush Leonard's ribs and drive him under the water for good. Defiant still, furious still, refusing fear the same way he's done for the past two hundred years.

"Go on. Do it. Do it."