Red.
Red everywhere.
All around her, all she could see was red. And black, there was some black too. The red wasn't blood, blood she could handle. Blood had a source; blood came from somewhere. Blood she could stop, or at least try to stop. But the red and black struck everywhere and nowhere all at once. First it was behind her, then in front of her, next to her, 100 yards away, right on top of her… all in a matter of seconds. The face appeared through the lightning, horribly mutilated, flesh and cowl melted together. It's eyes dead, teeth long and feral. It roared at her, an animalistic sound of pure hate. He hated her for living. She wasn't supposed to live. She died three years ago, and again earlier this year. She belonged in the ground; her soul belonged in a realm far below this one. He was here to put her in her place, to return her to where she belongs.
"AH!" Sara bolted up with a scream, clutching her sheets to her chest as she panted and looked around her room on the Waverider, her eyes scanning for a monster but finding none.
It was just a dream.
She let out a long, relieved, breath. Her shoulders relaxed and she dropped her grip on the thin blanket, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and rising to her feet. She's used to her nightmares, so normally she can just lie down and go back to sleep right afterwards, but this one was bad. It was going to be haunting her for awhile, she could tell, so she decided to go for a walk around the Waverider, remind herself that everything is ok.
The ship was quiet and peaceful at this time, four in the (what they were calling) morning. Even Nate had at some point turned off his music and gone to bed. Sara had always loved this time of day, too early for anyone to be waking but too late for anyone to have not yet gone to sleep. This was when the world was the most at peace. Even where they were docked in the temporal zone, time stream seemed more relaxed than usual, the green and yellow waves a calming sight outside the windows of the Waverider.
As Sara wandered her way onto the bridge she realized that she wasn't the only Legend awake at this early hour. Leonard Snart was lounging in his flight chair, looking over at the doorway when she entered.
"Hey," he greeted her quietly, his voice just barely above a whisper.
"Hey," she said back, her arms folded over her middle as she padded across the room and sunk down into the chair beside him. He watched her for a second, but then he turned his attention back to the window. After she sat down they remained quiet, just sitting in each other's company and enjoying the silence.
"You remember anything about being out there?" She finally asked, after they found him they had to tell him that nearly a year had passed since the Oculus. It had barely even been a minute for him. All he remembered was the Oculus, the blast, and landing in LA.
Sure enough he shook his head, Stein and Raymond had told him that being trapped in the time stream might have been like he was in suspended animation, meaning his body had basically been frozen the entire time and it was unlikely that he would ever remember anything about it.
"I still can't believe I was out there," he said, "Or I would've stayed there if you guys hadn't broken all of time."
Sara snorted at his statement, "Well, I guess it's a good thing the Legion won the first time around." She remarked and he hummed but not necessarily in agreement. He had been told all about the Legion and about Doomworld, and while the others knew he was sensitive about it they didn't know why, but he figured they assumed it was because his past self had been a part of it.
He let them believe that. In actuality he couldn't care less that his past self had fought against them. He has no memory of it, and he knows he isn't that person anymore, so the knowledge really didn't have much of an effect on him. What he really hated was that Damian Darhk had used the spear to force Sara to work for him as an assassin, and that she remembers every minute of it.
"What are you doing up?" He asked suddenly, changing the subject and when a frown crossed Sara's face he mimicked it.
"Bad dream," she answered simply. She didn't say more, and Len knew he shouldn't press for details, but he knew Sara has had nightmares ever since the pit and she doesn't normally need to get up to deal with them.
"Must have been a bad one," he mused, his eyes pleading with her to talk but he wouldn't push if she didn't want to.
"It was," she answered, "I know you don't remember the Legion, but apparently speedsters have their own, undead, version of the grim reaper. He was chasing Thawne, because Thawne was supposed to be dead. I know I'm not a speedster, but I am supposed to be dead."
"You are not," he said it quickly, simply, just stating a simple fact. "If you were meant to be dead the universe wouldn't have made you so damn hard to kill."
Sara smiled at that, reassurance washing over her like a tidal wave. "Still," she said, "After he finally killed Thawne he stood right in front of me, growled right in my face. It was like he was promising… promising that he'd get me next time."
Len sat up just a little straighter when she choked briefly on her words; he hadn't expected that. She hadn't either, honestly, and she took a shuddering breath to calm the fear rising in her chest. She was arguably just as afraid now as she had been in her dream, if not more so. Sure it was just a dream, but as she told Leonard about it the realization came upon her that, unlike many of her other nightmares, this one could actually happen one day.
Leonard, seeing the fear growing in her eyes, instinctively reached over and laid his arm around her shoulders. Of course that was awkward with them in two separate chairs so he wound up inadvertently trying to pull her closer, and surprisingly she went.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Sara Lance rose from her seat and allowed herself to be guided into Leonard's lap, where he held her close and let her lay her head against his chest.
They sat there silently, Leonard moving the fingers of one hand through Sara's golden hair while the other kept her secured in her position. It had to be the early hours of the morning making them both like this, to get them to allow their walls to fall and leave them so unguarded. Even before the Oculus they were never this vulnerable with each other. Leonard had never allowed anyone to see this tender side of his protection apart from Lisa, and Sara hadn't since she was a child allowed herself to simply be held.
But it was nice.
While she sat curled up in Len's arms, Sara felt her fears fading away. They would never be gone, but he didn't have to say it for her to know that any undead speedster trying to put her back in the grave would have to force it's way through him first in order to do it.
"Can we talk about it now?" She found herself murmuring after what felt like an eternity and yet no time at all spent in their silent bubble of protection.
Len shifted at her words, straightening and relaxing his hold on her. She too shifted, uncurling herself and sitting up more so that she could look him in the eye.
"It was a year for you," He said, stating the obvious.
"And a minute for you," she said, also stating the obvious. "But five months in LA for both of us." She went on and Leonard nodded, a lot could change in five months.
But for him it hadn't.
"I've said what I have to say," he finally confessed, meeting her questioning gaze with a completely serious one of his own. "What about you?"
For about one second that felt like ten hours, Len half expected her to just stand up and walk off. But instead she brought her arms up to loop around his neck, pulling herself ever so slightly closer to him and locking her eyes with his.
"I wouldn't be sitting here if I wasn't curious about what the future might hold for me, and you, and me and you."
Normally Len would've smirked at her words, and maybe he did for a split second. He couldn't really be sure. All he knew for sure was that once the words were out of her mouth he had a hand on her arm as if to pull her down, not that she didn't go on her own, and the next thing he knew his lips were on hers.
This kiss was nothing like the one they shared at the Oculus. That kiss, as good as it was, had been desperate and tragic; it had been a goodbye. This one was infinitely better. Soft and promising, not to mention slow because they could take their time. This kiss wasn't the end of everything that could've been.
It was only the beginning.