James Jesse lay on a bed that smelled of disinfectant. He never did like the smell of hospitals. If they wanted to cover up the stench of death, they could at least use some tropical scent, like pineapple punch or raspberry lemonade. Hospital smell reminded James of dirty laundry and business offices, two things he greatly despised. Yes, he'd take the smell of his own demise over whatever stench they had sprayed in his room any day.

The truth was, James had no control over what odor he was smelling. He had no control over anything. The Trickster was hospitalized, counting the days until he was no longer able to breathe. After a month in the wretched place, he was almost ready to pull the plug. It turns out his wish was being fulfilled. The doctor said there was nothing more he could do. James would have a few days left to live, a week at most, and that was that.

Lying in boredom and in pain, the Trickster stared at the ceiling. He listened to the stead hum of the hospital machines and the abnormal rhythm of his beating heart. Deciding to try to get a few more hours of sleep, the villain slowly closed his eyes. However, he was interrupted by the sound of the door to his room opening. He sat up to see none other than Captain Cold, aka Leonard Snart, walk inside.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with a surprised tone. His noticed his voice sounded different. It wasn't bright and bubbly, but old and weak.

Len stood to the side. "The doctor called with the news. I'm the only one in town at the moment. The rest of the Rogues are off on a mission."

"What do you care?" James said. "You would never let me on the team. I thought you hated me."

Len shrugged and replied, "I do. But Axel seemed pretty upset. He and the others are driving back tonight to see you tomorrow." He pulled something out of his jacket. It was a blown up doctor's glove. He walked and placed it on the edge of Trickster's bed. "He told me over the phone to give one to you."

James picked up the balloon and toyed with it through his hands. It reminded him of an exploding rubber chicken he had given Axel to use. Those days seemed like such distant memories. The time when it was just the two of them, blowing up buildings and pranking the Flash. That was before they had been sent to prison. Before Len had broken Axel out and James had been sent a medical facility.

"How is my boy doing? Been getting lots of mail from him. He seems to be really enjoying being a part of your crew."

Cold nodded. "The kid's a natural. A little too reckless, but he's smart and has a lot of talent."

The Trickster smiled a sorrowful smile. "You know, he writes about you the most. He talks about how much he admires and you and wants to be like you. He's always mentioning how awesome you are. I'm almost jealous." James was very jealous.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you heard how he talks about you. Sure the kid craves acceptance and praise, but you're his idol. I'm never going to replace you."

Trickster frowned now. "I know that, but I might need you to."

Leonard let out a long sigh. He went and sat down in a nearby chair. "So you really think the doctors are right, huh? You've only got a week left? There's not going to be some miraculous recovery, one more trick to keep us on our toes?"

"Well, I'm not dead yet, but I don't think that's going to last for long. It's all the medication they gave to me over the years at Iron Heights. The side effects finally caught up to me. Doc says I'm lucky to have lived as many years as I did."

There was silence for a few seconds after that. Silence was not something James preferred, but he was used to it by now. He wanted to say more, but his voice already hurt, strained from speaking. He waited for Len to say the next word. However, he was not prepared for what was spoken.

"I know you're not Axel's dad."

He blinked twice. "What makes you say that?"

"For starters, you don't look anything alike," Snart answered. "You were in prison at the time Axel was conceived, so unless you had sex with a prison nurse, it's impossible. Also, I did a blood test. Your DNA sequences aren't even close."

James remained quiet.

"James, he needs to know. He deserves for you to tell him."

Trickster frantically shook his head. "Please," he begged. "Don't tell him. It'll break his heart."

Leonard disagreed. "He would still love you just the same, and I don't think you should be lying to him like that. Axel may be immature, but he's growing up. It's not fair to keep something so important from him."

"I know, but I can't stand that he's not really mine. Just, just wait a little while. Tell him when he's 18."

With reluctance, Captain Cold agreed. If the original Trickster changed his mind, he could tell Axel in the morning.

Now content, the villain settled back down. There was another few minutes without talking. To Jesse, it seemed as though the horrid hospital odor was getting stronger. He wondered if Cold would bring him a scented candle to block out the smell.

Before he could ask, Len stood up.

"Leaving already?" James croaked with a hint of sarcasm still in his voice.

The man in the jacket simply nodded. "You know, I truly don't like you James. You kill for fun and have no moral limitations. But Axel really does care about you, and I really care about Axel. So if you want, I'll make sure you have a good funeral. I can have the Rogues pull a heist in your honor. One last trick."

The Trickster found strength to let out one long chuckle. "It's fine, I hate you too buddy. Just take care of the kid."

"I will. Goodbye James. Try to make it to tomorrow. Axel will be heartbroken if he doesn't get to say goodbye."

"I'll try."

The two criminals parted ways, Len walking out the door and James remaining in his death bed. Maybe the two older men weren't so different after all. Sure Captain Cold had a code and was a good leader. And maybe the Trickster was as crazy and horrible as people said. But even in the end, they both knew what really mattered in life. Family.