The monster was back. It was creeping out from the shadows and slowly making its way to the unsuspecting prey. Slowly. Slowly.
The prey slept on. Blissfully unaware that her life was about to end. The monster reached out for her throat. She struggled only slightly for she was weak and frail. Not a sound above a whisper. Ragged little breaths. The monster's hand tightened on that fragile neck. The little bird's eyes fluttered open. Her lips formed a word.
"Rip?"
He snapped her neck.
"Sara!"
Rip Hunter sat up covered in sweat and drowning in the remnants of the bad dream. His heart was beating so loud and so hard, he could almost feel it struggling to leave his chest. He raised his hands to his face. He sat in the semi-darkness. His heavy panting breaths were the only sound in the room he subconsciously recognized as his own.
He was back in his quarters inside the Waverider. His breathing began to slow. His heart no longer pounding in his ears.
He began to remember where he was and what had happened. The memories poured over him like a waterfall. New York. The nuclear bomb. The spear. Phil. The Legion. The war.
He also remembered he wasn't alone.
He turned to look to his side and found her inches from him. Her eyes were closed. She was lying on her side facing him. Her right hand was tucked underneath the pillow under her cheek, and the other was lying carelessly in between their bodies.
"Sara?"
The hand that was lying between them reached out for his hand, almost like a knee jerk reaction. She knew instinctively where his hand would be.
"It's O.K. I'm here. I'm alive," she murmured in her sleep.
He smiled. Her hand holding his was a comfort.
Her presence was a comfort. Like it has always been from that first night.
She had watched him like a hawk since he got back. In the Medbay, she sat on that chair until he fell asleep. And she was still there when he was woken up by the nightmares.
He asked her why she stayed. She told him that when they were working to return his brain to normal, he would wake up from his stasis quite violently. Except when she was the first thing he saw when he woke up. He had attacked Ray and the professor twice before they figured that Sara's was the only face he was not likely to maul whenever he regained consciousness.
Rip didn't remember attacking Ray or Martin. He did remember the first night he was allowed back into his own quarters. He had the nightmares and woke up shouting her name. Apparently she heard him and was by his side in an instant. He was mortified to say the least. He tried to get her to leave him but the stubborn woman would have none of it. She was determined to stand guard over him. Whether it was to protect him or to protect against him, he hadn't been sure. He woke up in cold sweat three times more that first night. She was there every time.
She had been careful not to touch him until he was fully awake. They learned that the hard way with Ray when Rip was still in the Medbay. Whenever he woke up screaming, she first allowed him his space. He almost always regained his proper orientation within minutes of waking. She would stand back and let him breathe, and once he returned from his nightmare, she would speak out and assure him that she alive. She knew why he was having bad dreams. She knew what he dreamt about.
Then when he had settled back down, Sara would settle in the chair by his desk and watch.
On the second night, he could no longer stand it. He woke up from his bad dreams and found her standing at this bedside. He had to say something.
"You should sleep with me."
Sara Lance cocked an eyebrow.
"I mean, sleep next to me," he quickly explained. "If you're determined to stay here, at least make yourself comfortable. That chair isn't comfortable. I know because I have spent many nights in that chair. And the bed is big enough for both of us without it becoming awkward."
"I don't think that's a good idea," she said.
"No, of course not," regretting what he said immediately. "What was I thinking? It's probably not safe for you to be near me. Who knows what I might do in my sleep."
"That's not why," she was quick to reassure him. "I know I am perfectly safe with you. You won't hurt me."
"Recent events belie that statement."
"Like I said before, it wasn't you," she said with a small sigh. "Besides, the reason I don't think it's a good idea is because we are two very attractive unattached adults. Sharing a bed leads to complications."
Rip gave a strange little laugh. He leaned back against the headboard and looked up at the ceiling wistfully.
"After all we've been through, believe me, Sara, that is the last thing on my mind."
"It's not the last thing on my mind."
Rip looked at her sharply.
Sara chuckled and moved to sit at the foot of his bed. He stiffened slightly.
"Relax," she said, noticing his almost imperceptible movement. "I was kidding." She smiled at him. "Now, I know the Legion did a number on your brain, but did they take your sense of humor, too?"
"I don't recall ever having one," he muttered.
"That's not true," she smiled gently. "I remember a time—"
"What are you doing, Sara?" Rip cut in.
"What do you mean?" She was unperturbed.
"Why are you here? Why are you doing this?" Rip got out of bed angrily. He was painfully aware that his anger was misplaced but the look in her eyes was too much for him.
She was looking up at him with concern now. But a while ago, when she was speaking. She looked at with so much gentleness and … affection.
And he deserved none of it.
"You should leave," he told her flatly.
"Rip, I'm just trying to –"
"Help. Yes, I know," he interrupted as he ran a hand through his hair. "But what you don't understand is that I don't nee—I don't want your help."
He said that last part softly. No matter what, he could not lie to her outright. Not about that. He needed her help and he knew it.
"I don't want your help," he repeated with more heat. He was frustrated. "I don't want you to spend time you should be spending sleeping watching over me. I don't want to see you tomorrow morning with dark circles under your eyes and a crick in your neck because you wouldn't leave me alone. I don't need another reason to hate myself because of what I've done to you. I refuse to be the reason for any more discomfort. Out of everyone in this ship, you are the last person who should be helping me.
"So I will give you two choices," he said softly, "get in my bed or get out."
The expression on her face was unreadable.
"Fine," she said finally. She got up from his bed and started walking away.
Rip closed his eyes tightly. He raised a hand to cover his eyes. He knew he was doing the right thing. But the sense of loss was overwhelming. He almost called out to beg her to stay.
His eyes flew open at the sound of rustling sheets. She had walked away from him to move to the other side of the bed.
"What—"
She was getting under the covers.
"Well, you brought this upon yourself," she said as she fluffed her pillow. "I have been told that I snore. But you aren't allowed to complain tomorrow."
"Sara," he started.
"Rip," she sat on the bed and tucked the covers around her. "I think you should realize right now that I am not leaving you alone." She sighed and looked at him straight in the eye. "When Laurel brought me back from the Lazarus pit, I didn't have a soul. I did a lot of things, and hurt a lot of people. Including my family and friends. When they reconnected me to my soul, I remembered everything. Even what I did to them, how I hurt them. The only thing that got me through it was my sister. She was there every night until the nightmares became manageable. She slept in my bed until I stopped screaming at night."
"I will never get the chance to give back to her what she did for me," Sara continued after a short pause. "You think I am doing this selflessly but the thing is, I'm not. I'm not just doing this for you, I'm doing this for me too." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Now, get in bed and let me be for you who Laurel was for me."
Rip obeyed her without another word. They lay silently side by side, both looking up at the ceiling of his quarters.
"Sara, I—"
"You don't have to say anything," she told him.
Rip turned to face her. "But, I do," he insisted quietly.
"No, you don't," she turned on her side to look at him. "I know how you feel and you know how I feel. We don't have to say the words."
Rip nodded. She smiled at him and closed her eyes. Rip let out a small sigh and closed his. He relaxed into dreamless sleep.
The following morning, both captains woke up feeling rested. Martin and Amaya both made comments about how much better Rip looked after a night of sleep. Sara smirked at him. No one, except Gideon, knew where she had been sleeping.
Tonight was the fourth night Sara slept in his room, and the third night she slept in his bed. Her effect on his nightmares were instantaneous. He was bothered by the nightmares only once the previous night. And today, the nightmare was not as bad as it had been before. In fact, Sara slept through most of it.
Rip settled back on the bed and watched her sleep. He smiled slightly as he noted that he really did have a big bed. Nearly a foot separated them when they lay on their sides.
"I know you don't want to hear the words, but I do have to say them," he whispered. "I thought I wanted my life to be over when I realized that I couldn't save my family. But you showed me that you and the team became my family." He chuckled. "As dysfunctional as we are, we are family. And you are my home. So, thank you, Sara, for bringing me home."
He reached out to run his fingertips down her cheek. "I can't promise to stop trying to sacrifice myself to save you and the family we now have, but I will promise that I will always do everything to make my way back home. To you."
Sara responded with a soft snore.
Rip rested his head on his pillow with a smile. He closed his eyes and welcomed impending slumber with joy for he knew that the rest of his sleep will be without nightmares.
THE END