His hands moving in continuous loops, Rip watched the hologram version of his late wife and son portrayed in front of him. His wife gave him a question about his whereabouts, told him she loved and missed him. At the the end of the hologram, their son's voice was present, and the young boy could be seen running up to hug his mother just as the video ended. Rip wondered if she had planned for Jonas to be in the video, or if it had perhaps slipped her mind when he would be home or whether he would raise his eyes from one of his coloring books and join his mother downstairs. He found himself wondering often; what they had been doing, what they would have been doing... what they could have done. He beat himself up over the idea that Jonas might have been a scientist, a doctor, maybe a time traveller like Rip, himself. A husband, perhaps. A father.
Rip's eyes, red from fatigue and recent tears, hardly noticed Sara's patient presence in the room, the young woman much too intrigued, yet saddened, to budge or intrude. After watching the the hologram loop for the fourth time, she figured it could be awhile before Rip turned it off and turned in for the night. If she waited any longer, her presence would be more ambiguous, and she'd have to spend more time explaining than she'd like.
Clearing her throat, Sara stepped forward into a dim light. Rip turned the hologram off quickly and pushed himself up in his chair, wiping his eyes and clearing his throat.
"Miss Lance,' he began, his voice cracking. He muttered in confusion and looked for a quick explanation, he raised his hand in surprise and surrender. "How long have you been here?"
"Long enough,' Sara replied, walking closer to the man, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes surveying him. Rip, who so often principled himself on assertiveness, wouldn't look her in the eyes, he sat wiping his hands off on his pants and biting his lip, hoping she would drift from the room and avoid further communication. "What were you watching,' Sara asked.
"Nothing of consequence, just some videos that should aid in our search for Vandal Savage,' Rip lied. "I was reviewing them before I showed them to the team tomorrow. It's late,' he digressed. "You should get some sleep. Why are you up?"
"I could ask you the same thing,' Sara admitted, turning her lips up. She stepped back as she noticed Rip attempting to stand and ease away from her, backing up further into the room to avoid such close contact. Finally meeting her eyes, he rubbed his arm, ran a hand through his hair, and did his best to attempt some closure.
"I was going to turn in soon, it's the most appropriate decision at this time of night. I think you should do the same."
"Why'd you lie, Rip? I watched you; I know what you were watching. Why do you continue to lie to this team? Why do you continue to lie to me?"
"I do what I believe is best for the entire team, and if that-'
Sara cut him off, walking closer, her heals echoing through the room. "Cut the bull, Hunter. You do what's in your best interest only. You know,' Sara gazed at Rip, her heels putting them at eye level and her intensity making the bold man seem weak in her atmosphere. "I'd wager that this entire mission is about you somehow. And if I find out that you've put any of our lives in danger to save your own ass, I'll...' she hesitated. Backing away, Sara closed her eyes momentarily and let what she referred to as 'the Monster' subdue. All her rage and hatred were a catalyst for a fury on the battlefield, but for a long time she had been having difficulties distinguishing when to use her anger to her benefit. If she didn't control herself, she was completely capable of blacking out and hurting everyone she knew. There was no 'on' or 'off' switch, but Rip had helped her channel her emotions and use them when the time was right. His repeated dedication to not only her, but the team as well, had made it nearly impossible for Sara to watch as he tortured himself night after night and say nothing. The rest of the team ignored it or didn't care enough to know what was happening in the first place, but Sara had passed by his bunk and heard tears late at night or the tossing of sheets from nightmares on more than one occasion. She felt an allegiance to Rip, as if she owed him. In theory, he had saved her in more ways than one, and she felt as if though she owed him the same.
Flashing bright green again, she shook her head and continued. "I don't know, Rip. But you will have disappointed the entire team, but me especially."
"I understand, Sara. You have to know that I chose everyone, I chose you, specifically. Everyone on this ship means a great deal to me, it is not a meager task to captain the lives of many to save the lives of millions. There are things, secrets, that only I know, that I believe only I could handle. You will have to forgive me for having a life that is separate from your own. I do,' Rip's voice dropped as he spoke with hidden anger. "So much, all I ask for is privacy at a moment, Miss Lance. Please leave me."
"You don't have to go it alone, Rip. I've lost people important to me, too,' Sara lowered her head, coaxing the man to look at her. "Loneliness will be your worst enemy."
"Miss Lance,'
"I've opened up to you more than anyone on this ship, and the most I've gotten from you in return is a pat on the back. I know nothing about you, Rip! No one knows anything about you, then you come to this room, and you watch replays of your dead wife. That's not coping."
"Please go,' Rip replied sternly, his hands conforming tightly, his eyes bore into his shoes. The word 'dead' hung heavily in his ear. It sounded inevitable, unmoveable, perhaps, but he rested solely on the fact that he would hold his wife and Jonas in his arms again. No one had been so blunt as to tell him otherwise, but he knew that very few knew of his troubles either. In that sense, the mission was completely about him. The future did need saving, but there was no reason to live without his family. Whether Vandal Savage destroyed the planet and everyone on it meant nothing to Rip, if he didn't have his wife and child by his side to prevent it. Sara, Carter, the entire team were only tools in the machine, their abilities were to his own aid, and Rip would live even if they're stories went unsolved. That revelation would put his life and his mission in jeopardy. It was easier to remain hidden to the rest of the crew, to act as a one-dimensional character, a space hero dedicated to time and making all things right in the universe. He knew that though Sara may not kill him for his betrayal, the others may not have been as generous.
"They aren't coming back, Rip. All you have is this ship and the people on this ship. They aren't coming back, and you're killing yourself trying to change the past and make them."
"Miss Lance, this is the last time I'm going to ask you to leave. In fact, I think it is more than-'
"Rip, listen to me!' Sara raised her voice, walking closer to the man, hoping to get another word in.
"No, Sara, listen to me,' he replied louder, grabbing her by the arms tightly, Sara's eyes widening in surprise. As a man who was so often calm and collected, she shrunk back in his sudden movement and shrill tone. "You don't know me, okay? You don't understand me, and you will never, ever understand what I feel. I wish you would stop trying to fix me, Sara. I'm broken, and this is the only thing that could possibly fix me. Why won't you let me have this?"
"You're not broken,' Sara whispered, Rip's arms beginning to tremble under his tight grasp. Sara leaned her forehead onto his, her nose touching his own as she felt a warm tear roll down his cheek. "And you're not alone."
"Please don't make this harder for me."
"I want to be there for you, Rip. We're all lonely, too,' hesitating, Sara looked up. "I'm lonely, too." Walking forward a few steps, Rip's hands raised from Sara's arms to her shoulders. His fingers tracing her neck and throat; Sara trembled under his grasp, as his hair and demeanor made him foreign to his normal composure. Though she would have been in position to defend herself normally, she imagined that vulnerability might get her the answer and the ground she wanted. She had felt herself becoming attracted to him the day she sat foot on the ship. Though his smug accent and pompous attitude turned her away at times, she relished in the gentleness he showed her and his refusal to be anything other than a complete gentleman. She had never known a man show her so much kindness in the midst of equal chaos, but for his patience and what she hoped was isolated affection, she wanted to repay him. She was lonely, had missed the touch of another, but her options on the ship were limited. She expected he, too, was just as lonely as she was, and though she was reluctant to capitalize off of his misery, she saw the opportunity. She didn't know what the future would hold, but in the present she wished to hold him, give him a quaint whisper that things would, inevitably, be alright.
Moving quickly, Rip pushed the young woman against the wall, his head hanging heavy in her shoulder. "Is this what you want,' he asked after a few seconds, Sara's heart beating loudly against his.
"I just want,' she exhaled. "I want you to be honest with yourself,' Sara pushed a piece of hair out of Rip's eyes, her thumb tracing his hairline. "Is this what you want?"
Staring at her for a moment, Rip leaned in slowly. Seeing that Sara's lips were already pursed, he kissed her generously, slowly at first, their lips colliding softly in a small, warm embrace. Pulling away, a sudden ambush of apprehension, and perhaps guilt, washed over him, answered with another kiss, this time more impassioned and intense. Running her hand through his hair, Sara wrapped a leg around his waist as Rip pushed her hips further up the wall, his hand embracing the side of her face and the nape of her neck. A wrinkle in time, he thought it.
A mistake that would surely be erased at their mission's end.