Disclaimer: I do not own LOT or any of the characters!


It's the simplest things that can devastate a person- a fleeting memory, a song, or even words. She thought the Lazarus pit had brought her back as a monster with no feelings, yet the sight of a simple door brings back fresh tears to her eyes. Woven in the rough black wood is Leonard's touch- she can almost imagine his younger self pounding on that door when he got home from school- and she has to reach out and the caress the surface, in her desperate attempt to hold on to him just a little bit longer.

The door opens, and she stumbles forward a little, her usually perfect balance shaken by the tempest raging inside her. She tries her best to recover and put on a brave smile. "Hi, Lisa. I'm Sara. Leonard's friend. Can I come in?"

Lisa is the picture of grief, a reflection of what Sara herself must look like. Her reddened eyes hold the weight of the world in them, her swollen nose and lips still quivering like a leaf caught in a tempest. It's a crack in her armour, but she still has no room for a stranger's sympathy or company. "Sorry, I'm busy. Feel free to just send a card to express your condolences."

Lisa tries to close the door, but Sara places a foot between them to stop her. This is the least she can do. She has to do this. For him. "I'm not here to say I'm sorry for you. I'm here because I'm there for you," she says, softly, reassuringly, "I know you don't know me, but Len's told me a lot about you. I don't want you to do this alone. You're not alone."

The only person in the universe who truly cared about her is dead. If she were to scream out to the skies now, only her own echoes would answer her back. If that isn't the definition of alone, she doesn't know what is. Lisa lets out a mirthless chuckle. "I am alone. You don't know what I'm going through."

Sara feels her throat close in on her and her vision growing hazy with tears. Maybe if life was merciful, the lights would dim again and she could go back to peace. But mercy isn't something her fate understands. "I know what it's like to lose a sibling. I lost my sister recently too. Laurel."

Lisa considers this for a moment before stepping back to let Sara in. "Welcome to the club."

Sara walks in slowly, breathes in the cold air and tries to pretend it still smells like him, like he's just around the corner and she'll turn around to see him standing there with the insufferable smirk on his lips and the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. She stares at her surroundings, the childhood home of the Snarts that they own after their father's death, and the empty house where Leonard grew up stares back at her with pitiless eyes. She tears her gaze away and back to Lisa. "Leonard's important to me too."

Lisa swallows. There is something that she has to ask but dreads asking. "Were you there when he-?"

She will never forget the look in his eyes, the look of someone who has resigned himself to die. She once looked into the eyes of the devil and gave him her soul. This is worse than that, this heroic suicide. "Yes," she admits in a low whisper.

"Why didn't you try to stop him?" It's supposed to be an accusation, but the words sound hollow and tired, like a black hole collapsing in on itself and losing its grasp on everything.

Sara looks down at the ground, reliving that moment when she knew she couldn't change his mind. She's supposed to be proud of him for being a hero, and she is. But there's also a part of her that feels utterly defeated, and completely helpless, and it's the part that's winning right now. "I tried. I couldn't stop him."

Lisa takes a seat on the couch, and offers Sara a place on the chair. Instead, she sits down next to Lisa, close enough but giving her enough space. After a moment's silence, Lisa speaks again. "Mick told me Lenny died saving him. He's been so quiet. Did Lenny-" she pauses to take a breathe and brace herself- "Was he alone?"

"Yes," Sara answers, feeling every inch of her shatter all over again. "I've died alone once. It's lonely. Like I'm leaving behind everyone I love."

"You're not good at making someone feel better, are you?" Lisa observes.

Sara looks at her seriously. "I've lost a lot, Lisa, and it has taught me so much. I see the world as it is. Denial has never done me any good. I find it easier to deal with things if we just accept them as they are instead of sugar-coating them."

Lisa feels her anger flare, and Sara recognizes her kindred spirit, recognizes the denial and grief over the loss of a sibling in her. "So I'm just supposed to accept that the only person I had in the world is gone?"

"Yes," Sara answers honestly, "You don't have to be okay with it. You can be mad, you can be sad. I'm both. You just have to accept the reality that Leonard really is gone. Only then you'll realize that you're not alone. You've got Mick. You've got me."

Lisa can't help but ask, "Were you and him-?"

She doesn't really know how to answer that. Were she and him something? Yes. What that something was, she's not sure. He's her definition of almost, of lost possibilities, of what could have been and should have been, and a harsh reminder that the choices we make can be just as cruel as the choices destiny makes for us.

"It's funny," she begins, a distant look in her eyes. "There's this whole other world out there. I saw it when I was piloting our ship. In another earth, Laurel's alive. You're a chemist. Leonard's the mayor, and I'm his-" she stops herself. She can feel the bloodlust in her rising, feel the need to kill someone, to find someone responsible for these deaths and get her revenge. Instead, she closes her eyes, pictures Leonard telling her she's not a killer anymore. It's bittersweet how a person can be gone forever yet linger in the shadows to pull you out of the dark. She looks at Lisa again. "I feel like their perfect little lives are mocking us right now, showing us what we can never have."

Lisa closes her eyes and tries to take comfort in the fact that there's a Leonard Snart somewhere out there, even if he's not her jerk brother, even if he doesn't even know her. It's not fair, it's not fair Lenny left her to deal with this. "I don't even have a body to bury. And I'm supposed to plan his funeral! I don't know how."

Sara looks around the house again, and it's only then that she notices there are no flowers, no cookies, no notes of condolences. Leonard Snart died saving the world, and nobody knows, nobody cares. As far as they're concerned, he's one less criminal to deal with now. As far as she's concerned, it's absolutely unfair.

"Can I tell you something, Lisa?" Sara says, giving her a small smile. "Life's too short. You never know how long you've got. Don't wait. I think there's someone at Star Labs who'd love to help you out. Len told me about that too."

Lisa lets the tears flow, the memory of their first kidnapping of Cisco opening the floodgates of a thousand more memories. She's no longer protected, but she is safe, and she has Lenny to thank for everything. "Will you attend the funeral?" She asks Sara.

Sara shakes her head no. She doesn't think she can bring herself to go through that. Funerals and eulogies are supposed to be tributes, they are supposed to bring closure, but when you're staring into a never ending abyss, there is no closure. "I'll visit the grave whenever I'm in Central City though," she promises, "And I'll visit you."

"Thank you," Lisa says sincerely.

Sara answers with a hug. Grief can never be lessened by sharing, but it can be acknowledged, and that's the first step towards letting time heal the scars, patch up the bleeding wounds with crude make-shift duct tapes. And maybe one day time will do just that.