AUTHOR'S NOTE: The interaction between Snart and Cassandra gave birth to a CaptainCanary plot bunny. The title is from John Milton's "Paradise Lost."
As always, "Legends of Tomorrow" is the property of DC Entertainment.
The refugee children swarmed around Jax as he passed out candy bars. The kid was wearing the biggest fool grin Leonard had ever seen on anyone.
Not that he blamed him. It felt pretty good to bring food and medical supplies from the Waverider to these people who had suffered so much at the hands of Vandal Savage.
In fact, it felt damned heroic.
He ignored the singsong "told you so" ringing through his head. It had Barry Allen's voice.
"Your friend is quite a hit with the little ones." Cassandra had come up beside him quietly.
"I hope dental care in 2166 is better than we had back in my time," Leonard told her, "or these kids are going to be in trouble."
Cassandra smiled at that. "Your time. I suppose you'll be going back there once your time ship is repaired, now that my father is dead?"
Leonard turned away from watching Jax get tackled by the laughing children. "I don't know, Cassie. You told us we'd disappeared 150 years ago. That says to me that we didn't go back to our time."
She raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps… perhaps you would choose to remain here? Help me to undo what my father did?"
Leonard studied her. She had a hopeful expression, but he didn't want to encourage that hope. He let out a sigh. "I'm not the kind of man you need to rebuild the world, Cassandra." He looked across the refugee camp at the makeshift medical station, where Sara and Stein were helping an old woman settle into a cot. "I haven't quite figured out how to rebuild myself yet."
"I understand," she said, sounding disappointed. She touched his arm, prompting him to turn back to her. "I want to thank you for showing me the truth."
He chuckled. "Who'd have ever thought a crook could show someone the truth? But you're welcome. Anything for another member of the 'I Had A Crappy Dad' Club."
She smiled again, keeping her hand on his arm. "There is such a club?"
"Just made it up. We'll be charter members. I'll be president. You can be my veep. We'll make Mick our sergeant at arms."
She moved a little closer. "And what would we do in this club?"
"Hmm." He thought for a moment. "Well, for one thing, we'd throw one hell of a Christmas party. Just be careful with Mick around the mistletoe."
"I will look forward to it," she told him. "But just in case you, and the mistletoe, never return here…" She reached up to pull his head down for a long kiss. When she pulled away, she touched his cheek gently. "Safe journey."
He rocked back on his heels just a little as he watched her walk away.
"Miss Lance, would you please hand me another bandage?" Stein had just finished disinfecting a nasty burn on the arm of an elderly woman. When Sara didn't respond, he looked up. "Miss Lance?"
Sara was staring across the camp. Stein followed her gaze, and let out a low ahh at the sight of Snart kissing Cassandra Savage.
Sara turned back to him with a tight, set face. She picked up a bandage and slapped it into Stein's hand before stalking away.
Stein's patient gave him a knowing look. "Young people never change," she said.
He smiled slightly as he nodded in agreement.
Leonard found her behind the med tent, where logs were piled up for firewood. She was splitting them into kindling with a furious expression on her face.
"Sara, we've been trying to get you on the comms," Leonard called. "Rip wants us all on the Waverider."
She didn't seem to hear him. She swung the axe down again onto an already-split log, sending splinters flying.
"Sara! What did those logs ever do to you?"
That was enough to make her stop and glare at him. "What do you want, Leonard?"
He decided it was better not to get any closer to an apparently angry, axe-wielding assassin. "We've been trying to reach you on the comms."
"I turned mine off."
"Yeah, guessed that. Rip wants us all on the Waverider. Team meeting."
She dropped the axe. "Fine." Barely sparing him another glance, she started walking quickly toward the field where the Waverider was parked.
"Sara!" He found himself almost running to catch up to her. "What's going on? Why are you so pissed off?"
She rounded on him. "What makes you think I'm pissed off?" she rapped out in a voice that was definitely pissed off.
He shrugged. "How about you trying to assassinate that firewood back there? It is already dead, you know."
She drew in a breath, as if to speak, and then hesitated, looking down. "It's nothing." She turned on her heel and resumed her walk to the Waverider.
He wanted to pursue her, to question her again. Then he considered the remains of the firewood back behind the med tent. He was pretty certain he knew what, or who, she was visualizing while chopping it to pieces, but it was probably best to let her cool off before finding out why.
"Gideon has been analyzing the timelines this week, while all of you have been working on the Waverider or helping with the refugees," Rip told the team once they were gathered around the holo table. "I'm troubled by what she's found."
Gideon's head appeared above the table. "The information from Cassandra Savage was correct. None of you reappeared in the timeline 150 years ago. In fact, there are no significant traces of you anywhere."
"How can that be?" Sara asked. "Rip, I thought you said we'd go back right to where we'd left."
"And I believed that to be true," Rip said. "But the timeline in 2016 is cementing without all of you."
"But, our families," Jax protested.
"My wife," Stein breathed.
"I know," Rip said. "You all know I've never meant for saving my family to cost you all of yours."
"But we didn't save your family," Ray said quietly.
Rip nodded once. "No, we did not. But it was not for a lack of trying, and for that, I'm indebted to all of you. Gideon and I are still working on possibilities. Mr. Rory, I would appreciate your assistance with this. Another set of eyes that know the timelines might spot something I would miss." Mick nodded his consent.
Rip looked around at the team. Carter and Kendra were the only ones not looking concerned; four thousand years of death and rebirth gave them a different perspective on the problem. "If we cannot find a solution," he told them, "then all of you need to consider what you wish to do next. The Waverider will always be your home if you wish it. But you might prefer to find a quiet spot somewhere in history to live out your lives. Or even to stay here in 2166 and help to undo the work of Vandal Savage. Take your time. Sleep on it. I hope we will have better news in the morning."
Sleep on it, Rip had said. Those three words were keeping Leonard up more effectively than one of Kendra's triple-caffeinated concoctions.
He rolled out of bed, dressed and started to head to the bridge to see how the timeline review was going. Before he'd gone too far, though, the scent and chill of night air in the main passageway told him someone had the main hatch open. Thinking that a little fresh air might be better for his tired brain than a lot of technobabble, Leonard turned that direction.
Stein was sitting on the ramp, staring up at the night sky. A half-full decanter and glass sat next to him. Stein had another glass in his hand.
"You know, they say it's not a good idea to drink alone, professor."
Stein waved his hand in invitation. "Have a seat and I won't be drinking alone," he said.
Leonard settled on the other side of the decanter and poured himself a shot. He let out a pleased grunt as the Scotch went down.
"Eighteen year old Glenlivet single malt," Stein said. "Our captain has excellent taste."
"It looks like you've been enjoying quite a bit of that excellent taste," Leonard said, looking at the level of whiskey still in the decanter. "Careful. Even really good Scotch will give you one really bad hangover."
"At the moment, I'm not concerned about those consequences," Stein replied. "But you haven't been my only drinking partner here this evening."
"So everybody else on the team has been sharing this glass?" Leonard asked with a chuckle. "Well, Mick and I have shared bottles before. So, what the hell. Gideon will cure me if any of our teammates left cooties behind." He poured himself another shot.
"Not everyone," Stein said. "Miss Saunders and Mr. Carter have been busy refreshing his memories. But Dr. Palmer was here earlier. He thinks he will remain with the Waverider. And Jefferson says he will stay with me, whatever I choose to do."
Leonard looked at him in surprise. "You let Jax drink?"
"Consider it educating his palate. And I could tell through our link that he could certainly use the drink. The idea of never seeing his mother again is troubling him deeply."
"Just like you're troubled by the idea of never seeing your wife again."
Stein took another drink. "I have faith in Captain Hunter and in Gideon, Mr. Snart. I believe they will do everything in their power to keep their word and return us home. And if they cannot, I can think of no better way to spend my remaining years than in exploring aboard the Waverider." He looked over at Leonard. "So, will you remain here in 2166?"
Leonard stared at him in surprise. "What makes you think I would?"
Stein raised an eyebrow at him. "You and Miss Savage seemed quite… involved, earlier today."
Leonard shook his head in denial. "No. No. That was a thank you and a goodbye. Saving the world is one thing. But rebuilding it? That's too much like work."
Stein chuckled at that, and lifted the glass to his lips again, watching Leonard over the rim. His expression was expectant.
Leonard furrowed his brow. "Wait a minute. Did Sara see that?"
Stein nodded. "She did. Her reaction was… intriguing."
Leonard blew out a loud sigh. "Dammit." He started to put the glass down, then poured himself one more shot and drank it off. Just a bit of liquid courage before facing one angry assassin.
"Good luck." Stein saluted him with his own glass as Leonard got up and went in search of Sara.
Gideon told him he could find Sara in her room, and that she was awake. She probably couldn't "sleep on it" any more than Leonard could. He knocked on her door and called quietly, "Sara? Can I talk to you?"
After a minute, the door slid open. Sara stood there, dressed for bed, in a tank and some pajama pants, her hair disheveled. It would have made for a lovely picture if not for her glare. "What do you want, Leonard?"
"I know why you were trying to murder dead trees this afternoon, Sara," he told her. "I think we need to talk about it."
She motioned for him to enter, and crossed the room back to her bed as the door slid closed. She made no motion for him to sit down. "So talk."
He took in a breath. "I know what you saw, Sara, but it wasn't what you thought it was."
"I thought it was you kissing Cassandra Savage," she responded hotly.
"Actually it was her kissing me," he replied with a little heat of his own.
"You didn't seem to be fighting it!"
Another deep breath. Getting mad wouldn't settle anything. "Sara. That was nothing more than a thank you and a goodbye. Once we leave here, it's not likely any of us will ever see Cassandra Savage ever again." He looked more closely at her. "Why are you so upset?"
"Why do you care?" she snapped.
"Maybe because I don't want you practicing your mad wood-chopping skills on me in the middle of the night!" he returned. "Or maybe because you're important to me. And not just because I know I can count on you to have my back."
She dropped her head, so her golden hair hung like a curtain around her face. Finally she said in a whisper, "I haven't had a lot of experience with feelings since going into the Lazarus Pit. When I saw you with her, I felt... angry. I felt the bloodlust rising." She pushed her hair aside and looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "It's not just a desire to kill. It's also a desire to possess. When I saw her kissing you, I felt like she was taking something that was mine." She wiped her eyes. "That's why I went to chop that wood. I needed to get the bloodlust back under control."
He drew closer to her. "Sara, how long have you been thinking of me as yours?" he asked softly.
"Since… since we nearly froze to death together," she answered in a small voice.
He sat next to her on the bed. "Near-death experiences can have that effect," he said. "How much of that thinking is you, and how much is the bloodlust?"
She looked down again. "Some of it is the bloodlust," she admitted. "But… it's mostly me."
He put a hand out and lifted her chin so she would look at him. Her cheeks had turned pink. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I nearly did," she confessed. "When we got Mick back, and I found you hiding down in the lower hold."
"You told me we should talk about my feelings," he remembered. "You meant about Mick."
"But you said, 'about you,' meaning me," she finished.
"You did change the subject back to Mick," he reminded her.
She spread her hands in a motion of concession. "It was more important then to deal with Mick. But I… I was afraid you didn't feel the same way I did."
Leonard let out a sigh. "Oh, Sara. I did. And I still do." He wrapped his hands around hers. "Look at us. The crook and the assassin, able to take on insane tyrants, Russian mobsters and time pirates, but afraid of our own feelings."
She squeezed his hands. "I can blame the bloodlust. What are you afraid of?"
There was a little bitterness in his answer. "I'm afraid of the people I care about getting hurt. Until now that's only been my sister. My dad knew it and used it against me. Mick knows it too. That's why he threatened to kill her over and over again when he was still Chronos. It was the best way he knew to hurt me." That revelation drew a gasp and a shocked look from her. "I can take physical pain, Sara. I can take a beating from Mick. I can freeze off my own damned hand. But I can't… I can't be the reason for someone I care about to get hurt. It kills me inside. I can't be the reason for you to get hurt."
She leaned forward then and kissed him, pulling her hands from his grasp so she could frame his face. When she pulled away, she said, "You won't be. Ever."
Her lips met his again, hungrier this time. He put his arms around her as she pushed him down on the bed, deepening the kiss as his head hit the pillow. She nipped at his mouth when they finally broke apart, and growled, "Mine." Then she giggled at him to show it was Sara talking and not the bloodlust.
He grinned at her and flipped her onto her back. "And you're mine," he whispered before closing in for another lingering kiss.
For the rest of the night, they only spoke in the language of heated touches, soft moans and tender sighs.
Morning found them wrapped around each other, clothing and fears long since discarded. Sara was asleep in his arms, her head pillowed on his chest and one leg sprawled across his own. Leonard hadn't gotten a moment of sleep himself, but he no longer needed to "sleep on it."
Wherever Sara was going, he'd go there too.
-End-
Nor jealousy
Was understood, the injur'd lover's hell.
-John Milton. Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 449.