They don't know that the walls are closing in.

All of them, his often reluctant, often exuberant and sometimes murderous team, have finally begun to settle, to understand – or really, only begun to understand – what's at stake, exactly what sort of mission they're on. They've gotten past the awe of traveling through time and space, at the very least (though for a few choice members, the novelty might never wear off). They're sort of gotten past fighting amongst themselves – 'sort of' being the key term in play – and have fallen into a kind of routine, amidst the constant missions and crises that came along with them.

It's not at all ideal, but it's more than Rip really could have hoped for, all things considered.

It's more than he could have hoped for and yet, it still makes him want to tear his own skin off sometimes–

They just don't understand. All of them, any of them – well it's not like Rip ever expected the criminals to be at all eager to do good and save the bloody world, so there shouldn't really be much surprise there, but the others – Stein and all his elderly wisdom, Ray with his genius, Sara and her supposed warrior stoicism… They were the ones who were supposed to be smart. Rip had hoped they could be the mentors of the others, or at the very least keep them in check–

But more often than not, Professor Stein was the one growing giddy with joy whenever a subject involving time travel or future technology or anything to do with science came up; Ray was constantly cracking lame jokes with that never ending and sometimes infuriating smile of his, spouting scientific diarrhea of the mouth along the way; and Sara, despite the cold exterior that Rip had perceived at first, would be the one mingling with the criminals or kicking back to relax and have a drink –

All of them. They act as if this whole thing is just a great big field trip sometimes, joking and fooling around and not following orders and it all just makes Rip want to scream sometimes–

But he can't, because what kind of captain would he be if he let his emotions get the better of him – and anyway, he needs them, and if they come with constant jokes and dismissal of rules, then so be it.

But still.

They don't understand.

Every so often his emotions will get the better of him, and he'll snap or say something insensitive or something or another, and then they'll look at him that way – so knowingly, so righteous. Rip has always apologized almost immediately after, unless he can't, but that's just the point. They look at him like that, and it's so obvious that they don't get it – they just don't. They don't feel it like he does.

They don't feel the itch that he does, under his skin. Crawling inside his chest, forcing his fingers to twitch – they don't feel the walls closing in. But Rip does. Always. And whenever they joke, or waste time, or anything, he feels it rushing up inside him stronger than ever, urging him to move. Do something. Get out there.

And then they'll be on a mission, trying to steal young Stein's research or infiltrate the Pentagon or whatnot, and it seems like the second Rip lets them all out with their specific orders and warnings to not do anything stupid, that everything just goes quite simply to hell. Either Snart and his pyromaniac friend would run off to wreak havoc, or Ray would decide to play the hero like an idiot, or Kendra would turn into a bloodthirsty hawk goddess –

Always, everything would fall apart and Rip would be left trying to pick up all the pieces and somehow, rearrange them back into a somewhat passable attempt at what history should look like.

And it wouldn't even seem like it mattered if things did go to plan, because no matter how close they got to Savage, it would never get them anywhere. Rip has already fought him several times since their journey began, and still – he's no closer now to defeating that monster than he ever was. And maybe, ever will be.

And every time things do fall apart – every time that his team decides to not listen to him and do something stupid, every time Savage gets away – every time, the gnawing just gets sharper and sharper, eating away at the hole inside him. And every time, Rip can't help it – he tries to find invigoration, tries to find some reason to be optimistic – but he usually can't, and he can't help it but he just feels more and more exhausted, every time they fail. Exhaustion always finds him and it sends unbearable pangs of guilt, searing down to his very core, because – he can't stop.

There can't be any stop, not until he stops Savage from destroying everything. From destroying his wife, his son. His family. He just can't stop, but he's so exhausted he almost wants to. And yet.

The itch, the walls closing in – they won't let him stop, and he's not reached the point where he can ignore those things yet. And when he gets to that point – well, that's where his team should come in handy.

If he's honest with himself, he knows. One of the main reasons for acquiring this ragtag group of 'legends' – one of the larger reasons, if not the first and foremost – was really to keep him, Rip, going. To give himself hope. And, when the time came that he couldn't muster the energy to continue chasing after the ghost that was Savage – well, then, he hoped that they would be the ones to force him to continue. Just imagining it, Rip can already hear Stein's stubborn logic, Jefferson's incredulous remarks, Snart's blunt insults – Sara's flat, straightforward assessment, allowing no room for even a sidestep. After everything, he knows – they won't let him stop.

They're his insurance. His failsafe.

With his team, Rip won't ever stop hunting Savage – even if the exhaustion completely takes over, even if Rip can barely find the strength to move a muscle. I'll do it anyway.

For now, he's all right, and the itch is still tearing at his mind, the walls still always creeping closer. Rip can almost take comfort in them, despite the discomfort – to say the least – because it means that he hasn't given up yet.

And he won't. Not for a while yet.

But in the meantime – he'll just have to watch from the corner of his eye, because they certainly won't see the walls closing in.

So, I basically just watched that one episode that showed Rip's backstory a bit...and marched over to my computer to write this. Or to be more precise, just something, and then this kind of appeared...I just needed some angst on Rip's part. I haven't even gotten around to really checking out the fanfics for this fandom yet...that's next on my list of things to do, I guess. So far, I'm just really intrigued by Rip's character...

And I have to say, isn't it perfectly ironic that Arthur Darvill, who originally played a huge and total dork companion to a time-traveling alien who stole a TARDIS, has now grown up to play a time-traveling time master (who incidentally stole his ship) and doesn't actually look at all dorky any more? I just love it. Oh, and also - is it just me, or am I seeing a little something between Sara and Rip? I feel like I'm totally going to be writing another fanfic for this soon. We'll see...tell me what you think! Even though this is really short and basically just a character analysis thing...

Thanks for reading!

~whatswiththemustache