A/N: Yeah, I know. New story. But I couldn't help but write this. In Legends, the team never went to Siberia and in the Flash, it said Snart was already dead present time. This inconsistency, along with how OOC Leonard was when he was with the Legion, forced me to take a break from working on my books and write up this story. This takes place in the Flash S3 E22 and Legends right before the team encounters Leonard Snart working with the Legion. In this story, it's almost like a Destiny fix-it, only there will be some differences within the team. Mick never has those visions of Snart, Rip is still missing, and Sara has taken control of the Waverider.

I'm sorry it's so short, but the next few chapters will be longer I promise. Consider this the prologue.

With that being said, I do not own the Flash, CW, Arrow, or Legends of Tomorrow.

Cold.

The air whipped and howled around him, creating a vortex of freezing cold wind to cocoon him. The Vanishing Point held no extreme temperature to it. Maybe he was trapped in his own personal ironic Hell. One fit for the captain of the cold.

Numb.

Each muscle in his body could hardly react. This heaviness, this lethargic feeling allowed his mind to begin to process his setting. If he really was no longer at the Vanishing Point, where was here, exactly?

Alive.

The ringing in his ears had died down by this point, enough for him to know he was no longer alone in this foreign place. Footsteps crunched somewhere in the distance, and the noise allowed more of that coldness to seep through his jacket into his bones. Ignoring the painful pounding in his head, he attempted to open his eyes. A dark outline of shoes met his line of vision. With a painful and nervous swallow, he allowed his eyes to travel from the dark shoes upwards until a yellow material caused him to stop. He knew that material. No matter the color, he knew the familiar movement the material made against each muscle in a speedster's body. He knew the suit blocked out the cold weather currently surrounding them.

Allowing his gaze to travel further up his enemy, warning bells and sirens rang in his ears. The face, that evil smirking face, certainly did not belong to Barry Allen. Which meant he was in very very big trouble.

"Oh, look. A little Legend." The voice (again, definitely NOT Barry Allen) sneered down at him. The Speedster chuckled, crouching down in a flash. "Did the others leave you behind?" The evildoer mocked. "It's fitting, really, how they left you to die in the cold." Attempting to preserve some ounce of toughness, he pushed himself up with a groan.

"Not the first time." His hoarse voice sounded foreign, much like this place around him. Snow, he realized. He landed somewhere covered in complete snow.

"Ah, ah, ah." The speedster placed one of his feet on Leonard's back and Captain Cold slammed down into the hard snow with a loud thud. "I don't think so. You're...useful to me."

"Wow, I feel so honored." He bit back a growl of pain when the speedster applied more pressure.

"I always was a fan of yours. No, really. Your sarcasm is truly exquisite."

"Funny, can't say the same about you." The speedster chuckled, though the sound was anything but amused.

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you. You don't have your pathetic cold gun or any weapon, really, to stop me."

"Then why don't you just kill me and get it over with? I'm not a fan of small talk."

"Like I said, you're useful to me." The pressure on his back was removed. "You're going to be our ticket to finally defeating those pesky so-called Legends." Tentatively, Leonard raised himself up on shaking arms. His eyes surveyed his surroundings until they landed on the two other men the speedster brought with him. "Malcom, Damian, what'd I say, boys? I always am one step ahead of those damn idiotic self-proclaimed heroes."

"Captain Cold. So nice to finally meet you. You know, I studied your resume, and your villain work was truly amateur at best." A sharp hit to the back of the head forced his vision to go black. Leonard's body fell forward into the snow. Once the three men were certain their new prisoner was unconscious, they shared a look.

"And you're sure this will work?" Malcom said as his eyes studied Leonard's limp body laying in the snow.

"Oh I know this will work. Let's just say I've been doing some...extensive research." The speedster's watch beeped and he muttered a curse under his breath.

"Where are you running off to now?" Damian scoffed.

"Research." The speedster smirked before disappearing completely, leaving Malcom and Damian with the unconscious Legend at their feet.