For the Snart Lives! (AKA F*** Destiny) Project. Thank you to stillthewordgirl for organizing this! Also for the Ficcing Captain Canary prompt "Captain Canary comes to the rescue for another Flarrowverse team."
"Hi, Barry," Sara said as she hopped up onto a tall chair at the table in Jitters.
"Thanks for coming," he replied, sliding a cup across the table. "Drink of the day," he said, in response to her raised eyebrow. "There was chocolate and whipped cream involved, so I figured why not?"
Sara grinned and took a taste. "Good choice. So, what can I do for you?"
"I need a favor."
"Name it."
The younger man fidgeted with his drink, the tips of his ears turning as red as his costume. "Uh…the thing is…I need you to get Snart to do something for me."
"Weeell, I do have a couple of fairly reliable tactics for bending Snart to my will, but I try to use this power only for good, so I'm gonna need a little more information."
"Of course. So, um…you know the Flash is pretty popular around here."
"I do."
"So, I go to children's hospitals sometimes…take pictures with the kids, sign autographs, that sort of thing."
"That's great," Sara said, with complete sincerity. "I bet they love you."
"Oh, Sara! You have no idea how amazing it feels when I can get one of those kids smile!" Barry gushed.
"OK. But I'm not sure how Snart fits into this picture?"
"Well, there's this one kid…Tommy Radcliff. He needs a pretty serious procedure, but the thing is, he's just so depressed that the doctors are afraid to go ahead. A positive outlook is almost as important as the actual medical treatment."
"I get that, but Barry, you're one of the most upbeat people I know."
"I can't get through to him."
"And you think Snart might?"
"Yeah, you see, Tommy's dad is in Iron Heights…for killing his mom. He's got a little sister, but she's in a foster home, and the social workers aren't sure they'll be able to keep both children together. So you can see why I thought Snart might be able to get through to this kid."
"I do," she replied, with a hint of steel in her voice. "You tell me when and where, and I'll have him there."
"Thanks, Sara," Barry replied, with his trademark boyish grin. "I mean it. Really."
"Any time," she replied, chugging the rest of her drink.
Snart removed his helmet and slipped off the back of Sara's bike. "I hate hospitals," he muttered. "Too many memories of family fun time in the ER, listening to my dad make up excuses for our injuries. I don't know what the hell I'm doing here. I've told you before - hero ain't on my resume."
Sara removed her own helmet and shook out her hair. She came around to stand toe to toe with Snart. "This kid doesn't need a hero. He needs someone who understands what he's going through. That's you."
Sara's expression softened, and she ran her hands up his chest, settling lightly on his collar. "You got this." She looked up at him from under her eyelashes. "I believe in you."
He looked down at her and smirked. "The things I do for -"
"Ah-ah - there's kids around," Sara teased, laying a hand over his lips.
Ray had cleaned the local comic shop out of Flash comics and merchandise, but Barry had suggested something else for Tommy. The reason why became evident when they entered his room. Posters and pictures of motorcycles, some rather obviously cut from magazines, were taped to the walls. Blues and silvers predominated.
Snart nodded approvingly. "Nice collection."
Tommy shrugged.
"We're friends of the Flash," Sara said, by way of introduction. "He told us you liked bikes. What's your favorite?"
"Doesn't matter."
"Sure it does, kid," Snart cajoled. "Everybody's got a favorite."
"Well, I hope you like this one," Sara said brightly, setting a wonderfully detailed die-cast model on the tray table.
Tommy turned his head away.
"Hey, kid, I get that you're sick, but I didn't hear anything about it affecting your manners. The lady did something nice for you," Snart said sharply.
Tommy looked at him from the corner of his eye, then muttered "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Sara replied. "I'm gonna go make sure the others aren't getting into any trouble out there." She squeezed Snart's shoulder as she passed.
"Is she your girlfriend?" Tommy asked, with mild curiosity.
"Something like that."
"She's pretty."
"I think so. Wanna tell me why you're giving your doctors so much trouble?"
"What does it matter?"
Snart shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, it's their job to make you better. You don't get better, they don't get paid. They might need to resort to a life of crime."
"I know all about that."
"I've heard," Snart replied carefully. "Look, kid -"
"My name's Tommy!" he shot back defiantly.
"Tommy. Your dad's mistakes don't define you. My old man spent a lot of time behind bars. It doesn't have to ruin your life, not if you don't let it."
"I'm not gonna have a life! I'm never gonna see my sister again, and I'm never gonna have one of these!" And he swept the model cycle off the table with a wild wave of his hand.
Snart writhed inwardly. This was exactly the sort of thing he didn't handle well. At all. So he latched onto the one thing he might actually be able to control.
"Hey, Sara?" he called out into the hallway.
She leaned in the doorframe with an easy smile. "How are you guys doing in here?"
"Depends," Snart drawled. "How fast can you get a sidecar installed on your bike?"
It was actually pretty amazing just how fast Barry, with the aid of Ray's credit card, was able to acquire a sidecar and small helmet - and return the mechanic who installed it to his shop. It took a bit more ingenuity - and some absurdly obvious flirting with the nursing staff on Raymond's part - to actually sneak Tommy out of his room and down to the street.
His face was practically glowing as he sat snug on Sara's lap in the sidecar. Despite how scrawny the kid was, he and Snart's long limbs wouldn't all fit in the sidecar at the same time. Hence, Snart was driving.
"You ready, kid?"
Tommy nodded eagerly.
Snart revved the engine. "Wanna see how fast this thing can go?"
"Yeah, not so much," Sara told him.
"Aw."
"It's her bike, kid," Snart told him apologetically.
"Well, if Tommy here could be persuaded to cooperate with his doctors, there might be a trip to a test track somewhere in his future," Sara said with a certain measure of consideration in her voice, "but for now, stick to the speed limit."
An amused smirk twitched at the corners of Snart's mouth as he watched Sara hop up onto the tall chair in Jitters. She shot him a glare in return. Barry grinned at their byplay as he returned to the table with three drinks. He slid a hot chocolate with a mound of mini marshmallows to Snart, and something with a froth of whipped cream to Sara.
"Thanks for coming, guys."
"How's Tommy?" Sara asked immediately.
"He's doing really great," Barry told them, grinning. "The doctors think he'll be released from the hospital at the end of the month."
"Where will he go?" Snart asked intently.
"Clarissa Stein has applied for custody of Tommy - and his sister."
"That's wonderful news!" Sara exclaimed, eyes shining.
"Social Services is OK with that?" Snart asked cautiously.
"There was some initial concern - a woman of her age, with two kids, one of whom is chronically ill, but you'd be amazed the character references she got."
"And she'd have Caitlin for backup, medically," Sara surmised.
"Yeah. And me and Joe - hell, all of the CCPD - if and when dear old dad ever gets out of jail."
"That guy ever gets out, me and Mick will put him away, permanently," Snart said in a dangerously low undertone.
"Not if I get to him first," Sara promised.
"And seeing as how I work for the police department, I'm just gonna pretend I didn't hear any of that."
"Tell the kid, as soon as he gets sprung from the hospital, we've got a date at the test track."
"I will," Barry promised. "You know, Snart…for someone who insists he's not a hero, you're really a pretty good guy."
He was expecting one of the trademark Snart glares in return, but to his surprise, he only got a thoughtful glance...and then a smirk.
"Don't tell anyone," Snart said finally. "Got a reputation to maintain."
In the months that followed, the staff at the Central City Children's Hospital started seeing more and more of the tall man (and sometimes the blond woman) who'd been vouched for by the Flash.
Their mystery guest didn't talk to the same kids the Flash did. No, he took the hard cases. The ones who didn't want optimism and shiny red outfits and photo ops, but the ones who were already cynical and defeated, who thought they had no place in their lives for heroes. And, to the staff's surprise, almost all the time, he made a difference.
They never got a name-and if they had any suspicions as to his identity, they kept them to themselves.
Heroes, they knew, come in many forms.