A/N: This was written to help thecrooktomyassassin and I deal with the disappointment of the season finale. Hopefully it will help you as well!

Disclaimer: Trust me, I don't own the show.

Chaos attracts like chaos.

The disruptions in the timeline caused by the Oculus explosion were drawn to the disruptions of the time storm.

At least, that's the explanation Rip gives, although Sara's fairly certain that's his creative way of saying he has no idea.

Regardless of how it happened, Leonard Snart is alive and well in Los Angeles, 2017. A bit shaken, a bit confused, but otherwise, none the worse for wear.

Sara… It's safe to say, she's conflicted. Losing him hurt, more than she ever let anyone see, and having him back… It's strange. She's used to seeing him everywhere she turns, but not like this. Normally, when she blinks, he vanishes, a painful reminder of all that she lost. Now, he's real, alive, even though it seems impossible.

Not that any of this keeps him from disappearing. She doesn't notice at first, between the chaos of him being back, and the chaos of… Well…

"Five minutes. I left you lot alone for five minutes, and you actually broke time. Spectacular."

Understandably, she has a lot on her mind.

As days turn into weeks, however, she can't help but notice his absence. Before the Oculus, they would often spend hours together every day, playing cards, letting bits of their pasts slip out, and arguing in a way that Sara can only call flirting now.

And it's not like she expects things to be exactly the same, but…

He isn't just not seeking her out, he's actively avoiding her, even agreeing to take breakfast duty when he realizes she never wakes up that early. When she walks into a room, he disappears down a corridor. Whenever they go anywhere, he chooses an end seat, as far from her as possible. And he ALWAYS chooses assignments where he doesn't have to work with her.

Finally, she's had enough.

It's easy enough to find him. He's sitting in the kitchen, talking with Mick and Amaya. (Mick and Amaya, sitting so close to each other, but not quite touching, and it's painfully familiar. Sara fights the urge to shake them, to beg them to get this right before it's too late, but that isn't her place, and she has her own love life to sort out.)

He's laughing, a rare sight these days, but when she walks in, his expression falls. He nods to his old partner, rising to his feet, and vanishes down a hallway.

"Is he okay?" She'll swear she didn't actually mean to speak, but the question slips out unbidden.

Mick stiffens, and glances at Amaya, sharing a wordless conversation. A spark of envy flickers in Sara, (she remembers that feeling, she MISSES that feeling,) but it's overwhelmed by the certainty that she's onto something. Leonard Snart definitely isn't okay.

Eventually, the pair turn their attention back to her, and Amaya sighs. "He's been through a lot, Sara. I think he just needs some time."

Time.

She's used to feeling like she has all of that in the world, but losing him… She doesn't want to wait again.

Mick frowns, and adds, "If you got questions for him, talk to him." A sad smile spreads across Amaya's face, and she nods in agreement, reaching over to squeeze Mick's hand.

His expression softens, and it's NOTHING, but it's too much, too familiar, and Sara has to fight to keep from running out of the room. Instead, she takes a deep breath, and steadily follows Leonard down the hall.

He's in his room when she finds him, lying flat on his back, studying the ceiling above his bed. He turns his head slightly when she walks in, and his eyes dart around, as if searching for an exit, before he returns his gaze firmly above him.

"What can I do for you, Captain?" There's something in the way he says the title, almost as mocking as the way he used to address Rip, but with a hint of… Fondness? Of maybe she's just hearing what she wants to hear.

In any case, if he's going to play it casual, so can she. "Didn't mean to interrupt your chat back there." She nods back toward their friends, and he shrugs.

"Ah, Mick probably prefers it this way. He and the animal girl are practically attached at the hip these days, apparently." His drawl is nearly overpowering, as is the derisive tone. He's pulling out all the stops on the Captain Cold façade, and something in her snaps.

"Yeah, they could probably be something pretty great, if they weren't too scared to talk about their feelings." Okay, maybe she can't play it casual. She used up all of her pretending on the 2013 version of him, and she's tired of acting like she's fine. So sue her.

He turns his head to study her, eyebrows raised. "Never took you for the passive-aggressive sort, Lance. If there's something you'd like to say, say it." It's a challenge, clear as day, and she's never been able to back down from those.

"You've been avoiding me," she says flatly, and he hums.

"Brilliant observation."

His face is impassive, and frustration bubbles up inside of her. Everything she's been holding back for weeks comes bursting out in a flurry of words. "Why? What, was all that stuff about 'me and you', and a future… Was that just some line you fed me, to try to make up for pulling your gun on me?" He winces slightly, and she instantly regrets her words, but it's too late to stop. She plows on. "What, you thought you weren't getting out of this alive, but now you have to deal with it, and you're trying to let me down easy? I'm a big girl, Snart. I can take it. So all of this?" She gestures wildly, to nothing at all. "It's pointless."

She exhales, the energy draining from her as quickly as it came, and he frowns, tapping his fingertips together a few times. "Damien Darhk," he says finally, gaze resting somewhere by her feet.

The name throws her, and she frowns, about to ask what he means, when he continues. "You know him, I think? Former leader of H.I.V.E, former League of Assassins, helped the Nazis, destroyed countless lives…" He falters, before adding, "Killed your sister…. And I worked with him." On the last words, his drawl falls away, the casual tone replaced with something dark and disgusted, something that sends her reeling.

It takes her a moment to sort through the tone and make sense of his words, but when she does, she nearly sways on the spot. "You-you remember?"

He scoffs, nodding. "Little parting gift from the Oculus, it seems. She restored the memories Mick took from me."

It makes sense, now that he says it. She can see the lines of self-loathing written across his face as clearly as she can see it in any mirror. "Len…" He meets her eyes, and she takes a few steps forward, stopping just short of him. "That wasn't you."

He rolls his eyes, sitting up so suddenly that she stumbles back a bit. "But it WAS, Sara. It was me. Everything I did, I chose to do. It wasn't like with Rip. No one controlled my mind, or forced me to do anything. Darhk came to me, told me I'd be dead in a few years, and I panicked." He's nearly growling now, but she knows instinctively that it isn't aimed at her. "He told me that Mick turned on me. That he wanted me to die, that he betrayed me just like…" He trails off, glancing down, before he spits out, "my father."

Gone completely is Captain Cold, replaced with Leonard Snart. He's on his feet in an instant, pacing back on forth before her. "I was angry, I was scared… And I was willing to do anything to stay alive." He pauses, turning to her. "Just like I was when I pulled that gun on you."

If she regretted her words before, she loathes them now, wishes she could travel back five minutes and shake herself silly. She feels about three inches tall, and she knows her eyes are watering.

He clears his throat, and mutters, "I killed Mick… I hurt anyone who got in my way… Hurt you… And I did it all because I was scared." Sighing, he adds, "Of course I meant what I said, Sara. Every word. But I refuse to be the man my father was. You deserve a future without someone like me."

Apparently he's done, and he moves to walk past her, to run away again, and panic shoots through her.

She nearly lunges forward, catching his arms with her hands, and stares at him imploringly. He refuses to meet her eyes, staring firmly over her shoulder, though he doesn't resist her hold.

Words dart through her mind, thoughts beginning and ending, half-finished, before she can catch them.

"Hey," she manages, shaking his arms slightly, "it's not that simple."

"It really is," he sighs, voice so full of defeat she feels her eyes burning once more.

"No, it isn't," she says, a little more firmly. "I'm an assassin."

His eyes dart to hers then, and he shakes his head. "Not anymore."

"And you aren't part of the Legion of Doom anymore." He scoffs at the name, but his shoulders are tense, and she knows she isn't getting through to him. "I know how easy it is to get caught up in guilt. I do. But if you want to be better, you can't let that guilt control you." She hesitates, just for a moment, before reaching up to cup his cheek. He jerks away in surprise, before relaxing, leaning into her hand slightly.

"Sara…" He breathes, and it reminds her of when they first found him, trapped by velociraptors, in the mess of a future they'd made. Desperate. Awed. Hopeful.

"I still want to know about that future, Len. About me… And you… And-"

He cuts her off suddenly, pressing his lips to hers, one arm pulling away from her hand to come around, pulling her closer to him. He's shaking, and she thinks she might be, too, as she tilts her head, returning the kiss frantically.

When he pulls back, he's frowning, and she isn't quite sure why, until the hand not resting against her back comes up to wipe her cheek.

Funny.

When did she start crying?

She's only let herself cry a handful of times since losing both Leonard and Laurel only hours apart, and she knows if she lets herself, she could sob for hours, but not yet.

Blinking rapidly, she forces herself to calm enough to ask, "So, are you going to stop running?"

He sighs, long and heavy, considering, and her breath catches. Surely after… He won't say no. She can't keep... "You're sure this is what you want?" He asks, gesturing between them, and she nods firmly.

"Okay."

"Okay?" She has to be sure.

"No more running."

Relief washes over her, and she gives in, bringing her arms around him and burying her face in his neck. He's alive, and for the first time since she saw him, it actually feels real.

She's not naïve enough to think all of his guilt will go away with one kiss-it's been a long time since she's believed in fairytales, and she knows she struggles with her baggage every day-but whatever comes, they can face it.

Together.

Distantly, as Len's free arm comes around her, holding her to him, she thinks Rip might be right.

Chaos attracts like chaos.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Until next time, my loves! :)