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I WEAR MY SUNGLASSES AT NIGHT

MIDNIGHT - Central City

January 18th, 2017

"That was weird," Ray mutters next to Sara. Their eyes are on the door Mick had used to exit. "I wonder what's up."

Sara shrugs and takes up the half-finished beer their partner left behind. "Everyone's got secrets, Ray." She drinks. "Sometimes it's best not to ask what they are."

Ray whirls on her and even through his darkly tinted aviators, she can feel his pointed stare. Sara ignores it at first and looks everywhere but at him. The Atom, however, is persistent and does not budge. The weight of his gaze grows heavier with each silent moment that passes between them.

She rolls her eyes, annoyed. "What?"

"I think you know what."

"We are not going to talk about my feelings, Ray."

"I really think we should," He frowns.

"Yeah?" Sara narrows her stare. "And I really think you should back off."

"Not going to happen," Ray crosses his arms.

She scoffs. "When did you appoint yourself the team therapist, by the way?"

He returns her glare and speaks firmly. "Someone has to be. The team...we don't talk to each other anymore. We're all going through this anguish, but not together. Not really. Everyone secludes themselves from each other. And it's like-"

"You said you and the team felt Mick and I needed an intervention." Sara cuts him off.

"Okay, uhm, I, uh..." he shifts anxiously. "I lied. I haven't actually discussed anything with the rest of them. I took it upon myself to try and speak with you guys."

"Ray…" Sara groans, covering her eyes and face in the palms of her hands.

"Someone had to!" His voice rises as he insists again. "And it's not like it's difficult to notice your change in behavior."

Sara shoots him another glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You avoid us!" Ray practically shouts.

It makes her wince. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. A thousand times guilty.

She was averting her crew intentionally. She had to. If they saw how weak she really was or the stress that ate away at her; if they knew of the nightmares that gave her sleepless nights, they'd question her abilities. And she couldn't have them questioning her. Not when they were counting on her to lead them.

So she'd kept to herself mostly. When walking the halls of the Waverider she'd merely nod whenever a teammate strolled in her direction. Sometimes she would go as far as diving into the closest room, just to avoid the possibility of having a conversation. She would practice for hours at a time in the cargo hold - trying to beat away the pain she bottled. Each punch she threw charged with anger and frustration. Every bruise she made a reminder of everything she had lost. She would retreat to the library or the office, hoping research would keep her somber thoughts at bay. Countless nights spent pouring over files and books and maps; mornings finding her sprawled over a desk she'd been using for her studying.

Nevertheless, deep into the night...when the Waverider was quiet and she was all alone in her room...a slow, teasing drawl haunting her dreams...

"And the drinking," Ray continues, pulling Sara from her thoughts. He gestures to the empty shot glasses and beer bottles. "Look at all this - what is this?! I know you can handle yourself, Sara. But, come on. And seriously, why do you shun us? We're your team! You can come and talk to one of us. And what happened to those boxes with Sn-"

"Goddamn it, Palmer!" Sara growls the words and slams her beer down onto the table. Her eyes are blue fire as she glowers at him. Ray means well, she knows. Still, she cannot bare to have this conversation right now. "Leave it alone."

"I can't leave it alone, Sara." He shakes his head. "I know you're hurt. I know because I'm hurt. Everyone is."

"How many times do I have to tell you?!" Great, be angry. Drive him away.

Ray sighs, "Look, I just care, okay? I was the one who was supposed to die at the Vanishing Point. Me. Not," he stops, giving her a nervous look. "...not..."

"Don't, Ray. Please? I'm asking you nicely."

He frowns. "You've been snapping at me since I got here."

"Well, you keep pushin' shit!" She shoves him. "Now let me out!" She shoves him harder.

"Hey!" Ray whines. "Come on! This is so not how a captain acts!"

Sara groans and gives him another shove, sending him sprawling out of their booth and onto the floor. The few people left in Foster's Bar glance in their direction, but no one makes a move to intervene. Hastily, Sara slides out of her corner and steps over him.

"It's how this Captain acts!" She barks over her shoulder at him and heads to the bar counter.

"Sara, wait!" Ray scrambles to his feet and follows her. "You guys may not want to talk about it. But I need to, okay? I need to talk. Or else I'm going to snap."

She stops and turns to look at him. His face is coated with worry, his brown eyes revealing the most. Helpless, she thinks. He's completely helpless.

They both are, if she were to tell the truth. Though, Sara is able to keep her guilt to herself and her emotions relatively in check. Ray is not. His heart is so soft. Possibly too soft. And the remorse over Captain Cold's death eats him away.

It eats at me too, Sara's thoughts ring selfishly. She clears her throat; tonight she was getting dangerously close to showing her weakness.

"I'm not much of a shrink, Ray." She tries to save herself one last time.

The Atom slumps his shoulders and dips his chin to look down at his feet.

The very picture of defeat, Sara feels a pang of guilt strike her heart. Goddamn it. She rolls her eyes at her melancholy teammate and nods her head towards the bar. "Come on."

Ray's expression - though marginally concealed by sunglasses and an absurd beard - visibly lights up. "Really? Like, really really?"

Sara props herself up on a barstool and pats the seat next to her. "Really, really. But this is about you. Okay?"

Smiling like a complete doof, Ray nods and sits.

She leans back on her elbows against the bar and waits. She certainly wasn't going to be the first to speak. And Ray had said that he needed to talk. Sara had made it very clear that she did not. But she could listen, if that's what her teammate needed. When Ray tentatively looks at her she nods her head, "Go on."

He takes a deep breath and lets it out in one big huff. "Well, I just-I've got a lot on my mind."

"Oh God," Sara mutters. "I'm gonna need a drink for this." She signals the bartender for a beer, fully aware of Ray's disapproving demeanor. "I can hold my liquor. You don't need to give me that look." As if to prove her point, she takes a drink of her brew as soon as the bartender hands her the bottle.

"I know," Ray murmurs and looks down at his folded hands resting on the counter. "I just...I feel like it's my fault that everyone is suffering...that you're suffering. And-and I mean, if I had died instead of..." he glances at her quickly. "...He Who Shall Not Be Named..."

"Oh my God," Sara groans and places a hand over her eyes. "You're kidding, right? You're going to compare him to Voldemort?"

"No!" Ray yelps. "No, not at all. I just-I just…"

"Ugh," Sara rolls her eyes and waves her hand, issuing him to drop it. "Just continue, Palmer. I don't want to be here all fucking night."

Ray takes in a deep breath of air and sighs it out before he begins. "I shouldn't be alive." His voice is dripping with guilt. And Sara knows too well the feeling he is experiencing.

"I should have been the one standing there...with the Oculus, and…" He drops his gaze down for a beat before bringing it back to look directly at her. His words are thick with grief. "Snart shouldn't have died. It was my fate. Not his."

Sara looks away, feeling her throat tighten and anxiety rise. Just wait. Just wait. You can wait. You can wait. You can wait.

Avoiding eye contact with Ray makes no difference, though. He reaches over and gently places his palm over her hand, squeezing her lightly.

"It's okay to admit you miss him," he whispers. "I won't tell."

She doesn't move away or rip her hand from his, like she normally would. She sits very still, hunched over her beer, staring down the long neck at the brown liquid inside. Eventually, Sara turns her face to look at him. He'd taken off his sunglasses and was giving her an earnest expression. He's full of hope, and it's easy to see.

She blinks, attempting to keep her rapidly forming tears in check. "I'm fine."

Ray's eyes are pleading with her. "Sara…"

"I," She starts, ready to deflect. She purses her lips together in anger. What does he want her to say? That she's dying inside from the guilt of Laurel's death? No matter how hard she tries, she cannot bring herself to face her parents again? That she feels so ferociously guilty that she was given a second chance at life, but her sister wasn't?

Or did he want her to admit that she's utterly exhausted from becoming a captain of a time traveling spaceship and crew? That she feels completely ludicrous for even assuming she could lead the Legends as Rip had done?

That the only person she felt even remotely comfortable with on the Waverider had sacrificed himself for their lives? For hers?

She did her absolute best to ignore these deeply buried feelings. It was dangerous to mull over them. She couldn't let them out. They had to stay in check. She had to stay in check. I am Ta-er al-Usfar. And I am stronger than this.

Yet, as she tries to find an answer for him, her heart wrenches. Ray's eye are patient and kind. He's removed his hand and waits quietly, no longer trying to push her to speak. And surprisingly, all her carefully structured walls of resistance begin to fall away.

I miss them. All of them. The words are right on the tip of her tongue. She could say it right here, right now, to Ray. She could let it out, let him listen to the rage and pain and sadness that infected her soul. She could tell him how badly she wants to see and hold and laugh with her sister again. Or how desperately she wishes Rip were here, guiding her through the timeline and teaching her how to command a team of ragtag outlaws and heroes.

Or how I dream of Leonard every night...

Tears prick at her eyes and she clears her throat before asking in a low voice, "How is it fair that I have died and come back...but they...can't?"

Ray's quiet and shakes his head. "It's not."

The tears she'd tried to keep distant were brimming her crystal blue eyes. If she blinked, they would fall. She bites her lip and casts her gaze downward. She doesn't speak and she isn't sure she could speak again; she feels like she's choking.

Long moments pass between them as Sara avoids his stare. She orders another drink after finishing the first, and promptly chugs it down. She can hold her liquor. And she really hasn't had that much by her own standards. But whether caused by alcohol or her rapidly rising emotions, Sara's head is swirling and she feels the lump in her throat ache. Her heart is pounding in her chest and she swears if she doesn't get a damn hold on herself, she's going to explode all over the bar.

Calm down, she tries to coach herself. Everything is fine. Just-just get a grip. She takes another drink.

"You know," Ray offers. "Sometimes, when I can't think straight or get the words out, I take a walk."

Sara glances at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He stands and places a few bills on the counter for their drinks. "Let's, uh," He shifts from foot to foot - almost like he's afraid she's about to reject him. "Let's get out of here. I've never seen Central City in the winter before. And it's late out, probably less of a chance of being seen."

Sara raises an eyebrow at him. "You want to take a midnight stroll?"

Ray shrugs, "Why not?"

He waits, eyeing her with an eagerness that somehow mixes with sorrow. Like this is his last ditch effort to console her. Rolling her eyes, Sara sighs. And slides off the bar stool.


Incidentally, Central City is quite beautiful during it's winter season. The air is still and chilly; the sky clear and peppered with stars. Frost clings to everything and icicles hang from streetlights and telephone wires. The city looks as if it's shut down entirely - no tire tracks on the streets, no footprints in the park or on the sidewalk. Just the frozen aftermath of a storm that had hit just a few days before.

White lights left from the holidays twinkle in the trees that line the sidewalks. A few buildings have decorations of the upcoming Valentine's day cluttering their doors and windows - while others still have HAPPY NEW YEARS plastered all over theirs. Citizens were advised to stay indoors until the city could provide the proper road safety and secure safe public transportation to travel by. And so businesses and restaurants were left unopened until further notice.

Snow crunches under their boots as Sara and Ray walk. Despite Ray's numerous attempts at conversation, Sara remains silent. She shivers as the cold reaches through her heavy down-jacket and chills her. She doesn't complain, though. She welcomes it - the icy feeling giving her comfort.

A city frozen under a blanket of white. Stunning, perfect...and raw. Another chill goes through her and for once she feels peaceful. She smiles from behind the scarf she has wrapped around her neck and pulled up over her nose. Her hood covers her head and is pulled down over her brow - only her eyes can be seen and they shine.

He would love this, her heartbeat picks up. He would absolutely love the city like this. Her smile spreads, though it remained concealed. And I love it. It's...it's like he's...like he's...

"Oh my God, this was a bad idea," Ray groans next to her. Sara blinks her lingering thoughts away and glances to her left, seeing Ray rub his hands together in an pursuit of warm. He looks miserable and lacking a pair of gloves.

"It's your own fault," Sara comments, her scarf slightly muffling her voice. "Gideon gave us the forecast before we landed."

"Yeah, yeah," Ray ignores her and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "How much longer do you want to walk for?"

Sara shrugs, "I could stay out in this all night." I could stay for eternity and sleep in snow forever, just to feel a tiny bit of a connection to him again. The snow will always be an amenity for her - a reminder of a man who had once favored and utilized the cold. To the others it may seem odd, but in this moment the snow keeps her tears away and to Sara that is enough.

I have the snow and ice and howling wind to keep me from losing my mind, her thoughts make her smile again...to keep me from forgetting you.

To Ray's crestfallen face, she says "You don't have to stay with me, Ray. I'm a big girl, you know." She picks up her pace, leaving him a few steps behind her.

"Pretty sure I've seen you kick enough ass to already know that." He matches her speed and reaches out to grab her elbow. "Hey, come on." He stops her, making her turn to face him. "I'm not ditching you out here in this weather."

"It's beautiful." She breathes. "Look at it; it's all untouched and sparkly."

"Yeeeaah," Ray draws the word out sarcastically, and eyes her with a raised brow. "And freezing. And we've been walking for an hour already. We're far from the Waverider and the temperature is dropping."

Sara rolls her eyes. "Oh please, we've survived way worse than the snow of Central City. Quit worrying; it's peaceful out here, for once. We should enjoy it."

"The City is shut down, Sara. We really shouldn't just be out walking around in this." He frowns at her and keeps his grip on her tight - even though they both know Sara could easily escape it.

"We're Legends, Ray." She doesn't bother hiding the annoyance in her voice. "I think we can both handle a little chilly weather."

"It's below freezing out here!"

"Yeah," Sara smiles again. "Doesn't it feel great?" It feels like you're here…

And it really did. It felt sharp and harsh, with a certain almost theatrical grace and poise about it. Dangerous and unsettling, yet somehow relaxing her to her core. It felt mean and brutal and honest. And yet...it was beautiful...and quiet...and calculating...

It felt like at any moment he would round the corner and give her that lazy half-smile of his, drawl out her name and tell her she was foolish to think he was dead...

"Alright, look," Ray lets go of her. "Can we at least start heading back? It'll take at least an hour to get back to -"

"This was your idea."

"Yeah, well," Ray crosses his arms in front of his chest. "I didn't think you'd want to spend all night out here! That's insane, Sara!"

"It's not insane!"

"It is insane!" Ray shouts back. "I can't feel my fucking feet, Sara! And my hands? There's probably so much damage to my nerves, I'll be lucky to ever use them again!"

"Ugh, fine!" She snaps and then scoffs at him. "You are such a killjoy sometimes."

"Oh, puh-leez," Ray over exaggerates his words, only causing Sara roll her eyes in annoyance. "Because it's crazy that I want to get back to my warm bed and not spend all night in this freezing-ass blizzard?!"

"It's not even snowing right now!" Sara shouts back. She glares at him and pushes passed him in the direction they'd just come from. "And it's your fault you didn't dress for this weather!"

Ray's long strides catch her quickly. "Oh, come on! I thought we'd go for a quick lap around the park and then head back to the ship. How was I supposed to know you were about to go all Elsa on me?!"

She narrows her eyes in anger and makes no response.

They walk in silent company; Ray nervously glancing at Sara every second, and she purposely marching headstrong and ignoring him. The snow had been her one comfort that day. Her one comfort in weeks. And Ray was taking it away from her - after he'd spent all that time at the bar trying to coax her into talking about the feelings she very specifically wanted to escape from.

"You're a real shit head sometimes, you know that?" Sara growls over at him. "You poke your nose around in everybody else's business, stir up trouble, and then act like a damn injured puppy when no one wants your stupid input!"

Ray doesn't say anything, but she can hear his footsteps crunching next her.

"You just had to try and be my shrink at that fucking bar -"

"Sara," He interjects, but she doesn't care and keeps walking.

"- and even after I practically begged you to drop it, Ray -"

"Sara." His voice is full of alarm more than pleading, and he nudges her.

"- You are welcomed to leave at any time."

"Sara!" Ray hisses, eyes wide and frantic. He grabs her by the elbow and effectively halts her movements.

"What the fuck do you think -"

"Shut up," He nods his head towards the other side of the street.

She follows his gaze and squints at the city's park. "What? I don't see anything."

"Under the tree," Ray whispers. He's moved closer to her, one hand on the coat pocket he held his Atom suit in.

Sara looks, concentrating though she can't see anything. "It's too dark," She says back to Ray.

"No it's not, shut up." He shushes her back. "Just look there's someone there."

And then, just barely, she can see a figure standing in the shadows. A man, she deducts. Tall and lanky, and...confident. He sees them. He's watching them, waiting.

"Who are you?" She calls, deciding to take control of the situation. Ray stands solidly next to her, ready to defend if need be.

Nothing happens. The man in the shadows only continues to watch, though he slowly steps forward.

"Hey!" Sara shouts at him again. "Stop right there or I'll cut your fucking eyeballs out."

He doesn't stop, and Ray adds, "Hey man, I would listen if I were you, she's in a really shitty mood today."

Out from the darkness and into the light the mysterious intruder comes, hands raised in surrender. A smooth smile is spreading across his lips, a twinkle in his eye. "Now, guys, is that anyway to greet a friend?"

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter :) Please review if you have the time!