Author's Note: Okay guys, I can't believe it, but this chapter marks the end of Part 2 of this story! You probably can't believe it either, because I've never mentioned Part 3 before (mostly for fear I wouldn't make it to this point, haha), but yes, there will be a Part 3, and I'm so excited for it. Hopefully you will be too at the end of this! In the meantime, thanks so much for all the truly wonderful and thoughtful feedback you left me on the last chapter, it really meant so much to me. I love to hear all your thoughts! A few of you mentioned really liking the memory scene from the last chapter (when Sara returned from the 50's) and wanting more of those kind of missing moments. Yesterday, I posted a separate, missing moment one-shot from season 1. If you haven't seen it yet, it's called "White Lies," and in my mind, it takes place in this same BTM universe (although reading it that way isn't required), so you might want to check it out.

Special thanks to ClaudiaRain and Crazygirlne for reading this chapter over for me! I hope you all enjoy it.


It was too much waiting.

Sara had never been a particularly patient person, even under the best of circumstances. She knew that Ray, Wells, Cisco and Stein (essentially, the Dream Team) were working day and night, doing everything they could to figure out the riddle of how to bring Leonard back. But with so much on the line, she was too full of anxiety, her blood buzzing under her skin, hot with the need to do something. What little patience she did have ran out by the first night.

She tried to occupy herself. She tried to cope.

She and Mick sparred. They drank. They sparred while drinking, which turned out to be a worse idea than even they'd thought. Gideon was none too pleased when they turned up in the med bay, Mick spewing curses that the AI didn't even have in her dictionary, bleeding everywhere from falling wrong on something sharp. Sara still wasn't sure what, though she suspected a loose knife was to blame. Somehow, the onboard liquor supply seemed much lower after that.

Eventually, as one day turned to two and then to three, even Mick grew annoyed at Sara's restlessness. He threw his hands up at another lost poker game, and disappeared to find some solace in his own way.

Sara went to the training room, back to sparring on her own, hoping to drown out her thoughts in the exercise. But with every kick, with every punch, Leonard's voice echoed through her head:

I'm the cat in the box, he'd said. Like Schrodinger's Cat, both alive and dead until... You have to lift the lid, he'd told her.

And if I do, she'd asked, will I find you alive?

I certainly hope so.

But maybe not?

Maybe not.

She hadn't told anyone about that part of their conversation. She didn't want anyone thinking that this plan might not work, that everything they were doing might be for nothing. And truthfully, she didn't want to consider the possibility that there could be a timeline where she didn't find him. That she could be existing in that timeline now.

But all she could do was consider it.

Hit. Punch. Kick. If we don't find him… Jab. Kick. Punch. If we can't save him… The pressure of it weighed on her, so heavy she couldn't breathe.

Maybe not, the dummy whispered, maybe not.

She punched its face off.

It must have been well into the evening on the third night when she heard footsteps approaching down the hallway.

She was a little light-headed, from working out for so long and probably from skipping dinner, too. "Mick!" she called, panting as she gave the training dummy one last kick. "I'm about done, but you can have the room. Maybe later, I – oh."

She stopped short as she saw Ray enter.

"Sorry," he said. "Just me."

Her heart leapt into her throat as she fumbled for words. "Is it…" she started, swallowing. "Are you guys done? Do you…are you ready?"

Ray dipped his head, walking further into the room. "Not quite," he admitted. "We're getting close though. As close as we can, anyway, but I think the device we're making could really work."

"Oh," she repeated, whoosh of air leaving her chest as she tried to hide her disappointment. "What brings you down here, then?"

"It's starting to feel like we've got too many cooks in the kitchen, you know?" He gave her a small smile. "So, I'm taking a little break. I wanted to check up on you, see how you're doing."

"Why would you think I needed checking up on?" Sara asked coolly, frowning as she dried off with a towel. She turned away then, afraid her face would give away too much. "I'm fine. It just sucks, waiting."

"Sara," he said, gently, taking another step toward her. "It's okay if you need him." His voice was quiet, and she froze at his words. "It's okay to let yourself need someone, anyone," he continued. "It doesn't make you weak."

"Ray," she countered, voice low. "He died." She took a shallow, shaky breath, steeling herself. "He's still dead," she reminded him. She'd been reminding herself of that for days. "If this doesn't work, we might never get him back and I..."

Her voice faltered. Can't let the hope destroy me.

"We're going to get Leonard back, Sara, we are," Ray said, taking her by the arm and turning her to face him. "We have to," he insisted. "Look at me." He waited until she reluctantly met his eyes. "We're going to get him back."

She looked down, shaking her head slightly. She didn't know why, but she had to make him understand.

"When I came back from the dead," she started, eyes on the floor, voice distant, "there was nothing waiting for me in life. Don't get me wrong, I love my family but... I went to hell and back. I literally lost my soul. But when I came back, I realized there was no one I needed to go back to."

"And now?"

"Now..." she paused, squeezing the towel in her hand. "I'm not afraid of dying," she told him. "I'm not afraid of anything. Except..." She trailed off, grappling for the words. "Except for what happens if this doesn't work," she managed, finally. "If we fail."

If I never get him back. If I lose him all over again.

Ray nodded, considering her words.

"I died once too, you know. Technically," he said. "The whole world still thinks I'm dead," he added, softly. "When I came back and realized that no one needed me – that everyone was getting on just fine without me around?" He gave Sara a rueful smile. "Besides being incredibly humbling, it made me look at my life choices."

He took a few steps around the room, gathering his thoughts.

"Snart made a lot of mistakes," he said, after a moment. "I mean, a lot of mistakes. But –"

"Leonard made a lot of mistakes?" she interrupted, scoffing. "I don't think you want to compare your list with his, Ray."

He sent her a look, but didn't deny it. "You know I meant mistakes as in…morally," Ray clarified. And, well, she couldn't argue with him too much there. "My point is, for all he did wrong, he got a few things right."

"Like?" she couldn't help asking.

Ray stopped pacing and looked at her then, a fierce kind of certainty in his eyes. She saw the answer there. You.

"The world isn't the same without him," he finally continued. "Not for us. And when we get him back?" He paused, pointing at her. "You make sure you let him know."

Sara hummed, considering his words. "The world wouldn't be the same without you either, Ray. You know that, right?"

"We'll see," he sighed, shrugging. "I think I'm still sort of trying to justify my existence." He crossed his arms, shifting uncomfortably. "I thought that night at the Oculus was it," he said."I thought it was my destiny, my purpose for being. No one would've missed me." He shook his head a little, affirming it to himself." It was kind of a relief, you know? Until Mick knocked me out, of course. And now, here I am, with this huge burden of...life."

Sara closed the distance between them, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

"That's the thing about second chances," she said. "You have to make them count."

That was true for her, too, she realized. And for a second, she lifted the lid on her feelings, just a peek. For a second, she let herself think about what she would do if she got her second chance with Leonard. She felt that familiar longing curled up in her chest, squeezing at her heart until she thought it would burst.

It's okay if you need him, Ray had said. But it wasn't okay. It wasn't okay at all.

Ray must have seen the dark cloud that passed over her face at the thought. "Sara, don't worry," he said. "We're going to figure this out." Then he paused, considering her. "There's something I want to show you."


Sara followed Ray through the ship, past the crew's quarters and down a side-passage she didn't think she'd ever seen before.

"Remember when I said that I knew Leonard was in love with you, because of the way he looked at you, and a few things Mick said?" Ray asked. She nodded. It wasn't a pleasant memory. "Well," he continued, "that wasn't entirely true."

Sara frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Leonard actually told me a few things himself. Sort of. It's hard to explain. Really, it's better if I just show you."

He lifted his hand to a scanner and led her through an unfamiliar doorway.

"Where are we?"

Sara looked around, taking in the small space. It wasn't much – just a work station off to one side, and a chair quartered off in a tiny alcove.

"You really don't remember this room?" asked Ray.

"Should I?" She peered dubiously around the corner of the alcove. The lone chair was seated in front of a small desk with a keyboard and a blank screen.

"It was on our very first tour of the ship," Ray reminded her. "It's for recording video logs of our journey. Gideon recommended it for our mental health – we're all supposed to regularly log our thoughts and feelings about what's happening."

"Oh yeah," Sara mused, dismissively. "That sounds vaguely familiar. So?"

"Leonard recorded a few logs. And I think you should see them."

Sara's eyebrows darted up in surprise.

"Seriously?" she asked. "I find that hard to believe."

"Well, I think I annoyed him into doing it the first time," Ray admitted. "And then, I don't know, maybe he found it therapeutic. I record logs most days, so I ended up running into him while he was in here a couple of times. I may have overheard a thing or two…just watch, alright?"

"Oh, so you spied on him?"

"Shh," Ray ignored her comment, guiding her to sit in the chair as he stood behind her. "Just watch," he repeated, reaching around to fiddle with the keyboard and calling up the correct file.

Suddenly, the blank screen flickered to life. Leonard appeared before her eyes, sitting just where she was now.

"Personal log, Leonard Snart," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Day one."

"Actually," Ray called from off-screen, "it's day twenty-one of our journey."

"Shut up, Palmer," Leonard snapped. "All logs start on day one."

"But that would be lying," Ray protested.

"You act as if that would bother me." Leonard rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Fine. Day twenty-one." He placed his head on his fist, thinking. "What can I say? We're trapped in limbo another day. I'm being crushed under the weight of Palmer's obnoxious idiocy."

"Hey," Ray whined. Leonard smirked.

"Our captain is suicidal," he continued. "We've already lost a member of our 'team.'" He used heavy air quotes around the word.

"Carter," Ray reminded him.

"Who?" Leonard threw back.

"The team member we lost!"

"Whatever," Leonard muttered. "The most interesting thing that's happened lately," he continued, "is that Lance has gotten much better at cheating at cards. I suspect she's using this very ship to search the database for tips. Eventually, I'm going to have to tell her she's still doing it wrong, but I like winning too much for right now. Playing her has gotten a lot more fun, although I do miss her wearing tank tops..."

Well, Sara thought, unable to stop a small smile at the comment, you need sleeves to hide anything up them.

"Wait. Are you into Sara?" Ray interjected, seemingly shocked. His body appeared behind Leonard, standing much like he was in the present day. "She's the scariest person I've ever met," he added. "You know she could kill you like a hundred ways without even thinking about it, right?"

Leonard shifted in his chair, craning his neck to look up at Ray. "That doesn't that turn you on?" he asked, voice low. "Just me, then?"

Sara could tell by the mischievous glint in his eyes that he was joking. Mostly. Probably.

Ray, however, didn't seem too sure. He took a step back, like he was re-evaluating Leonard's sanity. "I'm just saying, I wouldn't mess around with her," he warned.

Leonard frowned, his eyes narrowing. "Who says I'm messing around?"

"Alright," Ray allowed, not missing the threat in Leonard's tone. "Then what do you want with Sara?"

Leonard paused, eyes growing distant as he considered. "For starters," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'd settle for some good timing."

He gave the screen one last little smirk before the image cut out.

Timing, she wondered. It reminded her of long hours spent over cards, flirting and fighting and feeling each other out. It was true, most of the times they'd started to get close had been interrupted by one crisis or another. There never had seemed to be a good time, and then…

"Two hundred ways," Sara muttered, taking her mind off that line of thinking as she waited for Ray to call up the next video.

"Huh?"

"I could kill you two hundred ways without even thinking about it," she clarified. "And don't you forget it."

Ray gulped.

The next video started, but the scene had changed – drastically.

The first thing that struck her was how quiet the recording was. There was no Ray fussing in the background. Leonard wasn't speaking, either. Gone was the humor, the confidence, even the boredom.

He was pushing his head into his hand, his skin pale, eyes wide and bloodshot. She'd never seen him look so defeated.

"Mick," he said, eventually, barely choking out the word. And immediately she knew when this video had been recorded.

"They all believe I killed him," he whispered. "All of them. Except…"

Except for me, Sara knew.

He took a shuddering breath, ran his fingers across his scalp. "That's something, at least."

It was so quiet, she could hear the whoosh of the door opening in the background, and Ray entered the room with a soft, "Hello?"

Leonard glared toward the door before dipping his head, running a hand over his face. When he looked up, the haunted expression was gone, replaced by his normal sardonic mask.

"Apparently," he said loudly, speaking up as though he'd never stopped, "while Lance and I were freezing to death, Palmer over here was having a very sweet time making out with the Hawk Girl."

Ray snorted, coming into view. "Hey, I risked my life to save you," he said. "Nice being alive, isn't it? You could at least thank me."

"'But Carter,'" Leonard whined, voice falsely high – a mocking imitation of Kendra. "'It's fate!'" He scoffed, then lowered his voice. "'We can make our own fate,'" he said, imitating Ray. "I'm sick of the soap opera," he added, in his own snarky voice. "How can I thank you when I can't even hear myself think?"

"Well worry about your own love life!" Ray complained.

Leonard lifted his eyebrows. "Excuse me?" he asked, half rising out of his seat, his voice slow and deadly.

"You heard me," Ray challenged. Sara was impressed at his bravado, despite the look on Leonard's face that said he wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

"I almost died; I got a kiss," Ray said, not backing down. "You and Sara almost died – what'd you get?"

Leonard sank back into his seat, his anger deflated. He sat in silence for a few moments, long enough that Ray walked out of the shot, and the room, by the sound of the door opening and closing behind him.

Leonard sighed. "The man has a point," he admitted, his mouth curving down in frustration.

For a while, he just started off into space, seeing something that they couldn't.

"He would have killed her," he said at last, so quietly she could barely make out the words. "He would have killed her," he repeated, forcefully this time, growing more agitated by the moment. "He didn't even hesitate," he hissed, throwing his fist down on the desk. "I didn't have a choice!"

He buried his head in his hands, shoulders shaking as he fought to calm down.

"I didn't want to choose," he added, voice suddenly soft again. "He shouldn't have made me choose."

He leaned back, turning his face away from the camera, eyes downcast. "Because it's always going to be her," he said.

He lifted his eyes back up, and Sara felt like he was staring right at her.

"Always."

The picture cut out.

Ray fussed with the keyboard again, and Sara had to rub the goosebumps off her arms. Leonard had turned on Mick because he'd attacked her. She'd suspected it, but to hear him say it, to hear how upset he'd been at the idea of something happening to her…

The screen came back to life, with a new Leonard staring back. His face was covered in bruises, which had to mean –

"So, Mick is back," he said, gesturing to his face. "As you can see, we've had a chance to talk things out." He smirked, looking down for a moment before facing the camera again.

"Lance," he said, and her stomach clenched at the way he addressed her, like he was really there with her. "If you're watching this – which you shouldn't be," he added, with mock reproach, "but if you are – thank you. I'll say that to your face when you stop looking so damn smug about it."

She smiled, remembering the way she'd convinced the boys to hash it out. Their brawl hadn't been what she'd had in mind, but still.

"When are you going to pull your head out of your ass and just ask her out already?"

Leonard jumped a little at the sound of Ray's voice. This time, Ray must have snuck in while Leonard was speaking.

"Seriously Palmer, interrupting me again?" Leonard complained, glaring at him. "Do you live in here?"

"Avoiding the question, hm?" Ray retorted. "Oh, I get it, you're afraid she'll say no."

"That's not –"

"I mean, she probably will turn you down," Ray said, cutting Leonard off. "Honestly, it seems like she borderline hates you half the time – but at least put an end to all the pining."

Leonard rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Sara suspected he was pouting. "It's a very thin line between love and hate," he said.

"Is it?" Ray pressed.

"Look, I'm playing a long game here, alright? You wouldn't understand."

"Long? Sara's going to be an old maid by the time you decide to grow a pair," Ray teased. "Or, she'll be long settled down with a pretty nurse somewhere. Oh, and you'll be dead of old age. Who knows how many good years you have left?"

"Well, what do you suggest?" Leonard asked drily, casting Ray his darkest of looks.

"Maybe a complete personality reset?" Ray suggested.

"Shut up, Palmer."

"Just kidding," Ray laughed. "But really, I think – wait, let's turn this off first."

The image disappeared and Sara stared at the blank screen, wishing it would show her something else. But that was all.

"What did you tell him?" she asked Ray, after a moment.

"I told him that I asked Anna out every day for a month before she agreed to go on a date with me," he said. "Leonard called me pathetic. He also suggested that I was a stalker and deserved to serve jail time. Typical," he sighed. "But I told him you can't give up on someone you love. He did not disagree. And you shouldn't, either. Don't give up on him."

Sara looked down, nodding faintly. "I can't believe you got away with giving him such a hard time," she mused, needing to change the subject.

"Yeah, Leonard and I had a…let's say, 'special' kind of relationship," Ray admitted.

"I can see that," she teased.

"Don't be jealous."

All she could do was shake her head. "So, did you really ask Anna out every day for a month before she finally agreed to see you?"

"Uh, no," Ray admitted. "Actually, she asked me out. But that's not the point!"

Sara laughed, unable to help herself. The thought of Ray giving Leonard a pep talk with a fake inspirational story was a little too cute to imagine.

"Do you think he remembered meeting me that day, in 1996?" she asked. Seeing him in those videos, she had to wonder.

"I think he'd be crazy not to."

She rolled her eyes at the non-response, motioning for him to continue.

"I only saw you two together for a few minutes that day," he said. "But I know that he had his eyes on you the whole time. Except for when he was giving me his scary 'touch her and I'll murder you' look."

"His what?"

"It's the 'touch her and I'll torture you' plus the 'touch her and you die' looks combined," he explained. "There may have been a, uh, brief conversation about you between some of us a few weeks after we came on board. That was the first time he used it on us – he made it clear you were off-limits, or we'd have to go through him."

"I guess now I know why you all were falling over Kendra instead," Sara teased, shaking her head. Boys.

"Well that, and the whole, you could murder us too, thing."

"Right," she agreed, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Dr. Palmer, Ms. Lance," Gideon's cool voice interrupted them from over the intercom, and Sara's stomach dropped. "The team is waiting for you on the bridge. They have something."


Sara couldn't get there fast enough.

She was speaking before she even fully entered the room: "What've you got?"

The boys were gathered around the control table, talking quietly. Well, Stein, Jax, Mick, Cisco and Wells, were, at least – Rip was conspicuously absent. The rest smiled as she approached.

"Ready?" Jax asked, holding up an oddly familiar vase. "Watch this," he instructed, before smashing it on the floor.

"Hey, that's my lucky vase!" Ray protested, too late.

"Raymond, you have at least five 'lucky vases' in storage," Stein reminded him. "They're just too convenient to use for testing purposes."

Ray was aghast. "You couldn't have had Gideon fabricate a test vase?" he pressed. "You know, one that doesn't belong to me?"

"Oh," Jax said, looking a little sheepish. "We didn't even think of that."

"Don't worry," Cisco interjected. "Just watch. Harry?"

Wells nodded, picking up a small device Sara hadn't noticed. He held it up for her to see, then pointed it at the vase, mouth curving up in something of a satisfied smile as he pressed a button.

The vase snapped back together before her eyes, so quickly that she almost didn't realize it was happening. One moment, the vase was in a thousand tiny pieces on the floor. The next, it was whole and solid.

"Patent pending," Wells said, exchanging a nod with Cisco.

"Wow," Sara murmured. "How…?"

"We used the quantum splicer that allows Jefferson and I to bond as our starting point," Stein jumped in, eager to explain. "I've been studying the processes that allow us to transfigure matter, and those notes helped us as well."

"A little Earth-2 know-how didn't hurt," Wells added. Jax nodded in emphatic agreement, clapping the older man on his back.

Cisco rolled his eyes. "Everyone needs to stop encouraging Harry, he's going to be unbearable when we get back to S.T.A.R. Labs."

"Didn't you say he was already unbearable?" Mick asked, helpfully.

"Yeah, but like, worse," Cisco clarified.

"What's the next step?" Sara interrupted, bringing their attention back to the task at hand. "We use this thing to…put Leonard back together?" she asked, gesturing to the little device Wells was still holding. "But we still don't even know where in the timestream he is."

"Actually," Cisco said, taking a few steps back to the control table and spreading his hands over the documents there. "I vibed your ship's maps of the Temporal Zone while I was touching Snart's cold gun." Sara glanced at Mick, who nodded in agreement. She was a little shocked that he'd let anyone touch it, especially Cisco. But desperate times…

"We've been traveling to the coordinates I found for the last three days," he added.

"And we arrived thirty minutes ago," Mick finished.

He leveled her with a knowing look, and she swallowed, letting the knowledge that they were this close to Leonard sink in. She held Mick's gaze, feeling comforted that there was someone else here who needed to get him back as much as she did.

"Okay," she said, slowly, feeling suddenly overwhelmed that the time to rescue Leonard had finally come. "So, how do we get this out into the timestream to use it on…him?" She faltered, unable to say his name, too afraid she would somehow jinx all of this – or that she'd wake up and realize it had all been a dream.

"That's where I come in," Ray said, speaking up. "I've been making some adjustments to my Atom suit, and I think it'll be fit to wear into the timestream. I can take the device out, press the button, grab Snart, and we'll be back before you know it."

"That's where you're wrong, Dr. Palmer," Rip said, finally emerging from his study to join the group. He stormed down the steps, stopping before Ray with his hands on his hips. "You're grossly underestimating how dangerous it is to expose yourself to temporal radiation," he continued, a clip to his words that made Sara feel like he'd already given Ray this lecture before. "It's not like wearing your suit into space," he added. "And let's not forget, that stunt almost got you killed, too."

"I think the suit can handle it," Ray insisted.

"Gideon?" Rip cut him off. "What did you say the odds of success were?"

"Odds of the Atom suit holding up under the pressure of the timestream are fairly good if the wearer can return to the ship in under ninety seconds," Gideon instantly replied, her cool, clinical tone washing over them. "I calculate the chance of success at around 83 percent under such circumstances."

Ray shrugged. "We've attempted much riskier feats under much worse odds," he pointed out.

"You don't understand," Rip pressed. He looked up at the ceiling. "Gideon, what are the odds that someone could get out to Mr. Snart, use the device, and be back in under ninety seconds?"

"According to my simulations, about one in ten," Gideon said, tone a little too cheerful for how much worse those odds seemed.

Rip lifted a hand to Ray, as if to say, See?

"It's enormously difficult to travel through the timestream without a ship," Rip continued. "Like space, there's no gravity out there, but the timestream is much denser. It would be like, like swimming through pudding," he said. "There's a reason there's no suit on board for this. Even if a Time Master needed to get outside his ship to make repairs, it's too dangerous and nearly impossible to do in the timestream."

"He's right," Mick agreed, reluctantly. "The Time Masters showed me videos during my training to become Chronos. They used to try it, but, there were too many fatalities." He shook his head and sighed, then looked sharply at Ray. "Haircut," he said, "you can't do it. Too risky. Let me wear the suit and take the chance. He's my partner. He died to save me."

Ray shook his head, brows furrowing. "He died to save all of us," he argued. "Don't you think I'm willing to risk everything to bring him back?"

He paused, and Sara's heart swelled at the thought that Ray would really give his life just for the chance to save Leonard. "Besides, Mick," he continued, "the suit is too small for you."

"Too small?" Mick scoffed. "It doesn't adjust?"

"It's made of dwarf star alloy," Ray gave a long-suffering sigh. "No, it doesn't adjust. There would be too many breaks in the armor for you to be protected, even for ninety seconds. You can't go," he affirmed, like that settled it.

"I'm going," Sara said, her voice smaller than she meant. "I can wear the suit," she added, firmer that time.

"Sara, no," Ray protested, but she wouldn't have it.

"I'm the one who started this," she reminded them. "I'm the one he found in that warehouse. I'm the one he told to save him. I'm the one who left him at the Oculus and let him die in the first place. This is on me, and I'm going to be the one to fix it."

"You didn't have a choice," Ray said, voice straining with indignation. "What happened wasn't your fault. You know that, right?"

"I know," she said, even though she still didn't believe it. "That doesn't matter. This isn't a debate. I'm going, end of story."

"No, Ms. Lance, I can't allow that," Rip cut in. "I won't let you throw your life away for this."

Sara glared at him, but before she could speak, Harrison Wells stepped forward, arms crossed over his chest and a knowing look in his eyes.

"Oh, I get it now," Wells said, approaching Rip. "You have a crush on the Canary."

"What?" Rip turned on Wells, his voice low and dangerous.

"You heard me," Wells said, unperturbed. "Why else would you try to stop her? You seem to have no regard for these people otherwise."

"Who do you think you are?" Rip seethed.

"They told me about the others you've lost. At this rate the whole team will be dead soon, anyway. You may as well let her go."

Rip's eyes narrowed at Wells. "You don't know anything about me or this team."

"I know enough," Wells maintained, appraising Rip. "See, I've spent a little time with them the past few days, and I've heard your story." His voice dropped almost to a hush as he took a few steps closer. "You stole a time ship," he said. "You kidnapped and lied to a whole group of people who you considered expendable, and maybe still do."

Rip tried to protest but Wells cut him off, staring him down. "You sucked them into your rogue mission, risking all their lives for your own crusade without a second thought. They were just a means to an end." He shook his head. "And when it came down to it, you willingly sacrificed another man's life for the chance that you might see your family again."

"Wow," Cisco said to Rip. "You're even worse than Harry."

Rip sent him a withering look, but otherwise remained silent.

"Now," Wells continued, "I understand you, Hunter." He nodded, slowly. "I, too, lied and put a man's life in danger – a great number of lives in danger – for the chance to save my daughter. So, trust me when I say that you have the opportunity to atone for your sins, and you should take it. Make things right."

"I don't want anyone else to die," Rip said, quietly.

"I think they've earned the right to decide what they're willing to die for, don't you?" Wells pointed out.

"Not on my watch," Rip argued, his mouth twisting into a snarl. "Not again," he vowed. "You're right," he admitted, eyes moving from Wells and meeting each of the rest of the team in turn. They stopped on Sara. "It's my fault Mr. Snart is dead. That burden is on me, and me alone. And I won't make that same mistake twice."

"Your guilt won't do them any good," Wells said, turning Rip's attention back to him. "All you can do is move forward and fix whatever you can."

Rip took a deep breath, seeming to come to an understanding with himself. "I'll take Dr. Palmer's suit into the timestream," he said.

"No," Sara insisted, and maybe it was the panic, or the desperation, but she had to laugh. "What do you all think you're accomplishing by trying to protect me? This is my fight," she reminded them. "And besides, I have the best reflexes out of all of you. I'm the one who was trained to withstand brutal conditions. I'd have the best chance."

And if this doesn't work, she added, to herself, I don't think I could survive being around to see it, anyway.

"Ms. Lance is correct," Gideon chimed in. "Based on her physique and training, her odds of a successful rescue attempt are slightly higher."

Rip put his hands on his hips and shook his head, staring off into the distance as he considered. Finally, he ran a hand over his face in exasperation, looking back at Sara warily.

"Ninety seconds," he said, pointing a stern finger at her. "Then we're pulling you back, with or without him."

Over my dead body, Sara thought, even as she agreed.

The team sprang into action, gathering the supplies they'd need. Ray left to grab his suit, Jax and Stein went to fetch some reinforced-steel tether they'd developed, and Cisco checked the device over one last time.

Once they were busy, Sara turned back to Wells. "Just to be clear," she said, voice low, "there is no timeline or universe where that," she gestured between herself and Rip, "would ever happen."

"I just call it like I see it," Wells said.

"Oh, come on," Rip rolled his eyes, like the idea was absurd. Which granted, it was, but she didn't want there to be any question.

She felt Mick step in behind her, and heard him growl. When she glanced up, she caught him glaring at Rip.

"Mick..." she warned.

"Just agreein' with you," he said, his tone equally warning, and luckily Ray returned with the suit before the situation could spiral from there.


"I don't like this," Ray muttered, later, getting her in the Atom suit. "It doesn't fit you right."

"All I have to do is drift in space for a minute and a half," she reminded him. "I don't exactly need to be mobile."

The ship was hovering about fifty yards from the location they'd identified with Leonard's particles. Any closer, and Wells was afraid the Waverider's shields – needed to protect the ship and crew from temporal radiation – would interfere and possibly scatter Leonard to who knew where and when. They'd ruled out using the suit's rockets for speed to get out to him, considering they would be too difficult to control and Sara could easily overshoot her target location.

So, she'd just be drifting, and hoping she could get there in time.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go?" Ray asked, for the dozenth time.

"Just tell me how to shoot this thing," she replied, ignoring him in favor of inspecting the many buttons on the suit's control panel.

"You shouldn't need to shoot anything in the timestream," he said.

"Just in case."

"I really don't think..."

"Okay, fine," she huffed. "I'll just start pressing buttons until I figure it out."

He rolled his eyes. "You're the one who said all you have to do is drift in space for a minute and a half."

In the end, he did show her how to shoot the thing, and he showed her the shrink button, too – if only to encourage her not to press it. By the time she found herself standing at the cargo bay door, she'd been versed in how to use the reverse-explosion device (as Mick called it), tethered to the ship by the reinforced steel that Stein and Jax had developed, and she was all too ready to jump out there and make it all happen.

Please, please let it work.

But before she did, she looked around at the circle of teammates and new friends surrounding her.

"Thank you," she said. It didn't convey how grateful she was for this chance, for their support, but it was all she could manage.

"Repay us by not dying," Mick deadpanned.

"How'd you contribute the past three days?" Cisco asked him, sarcastically.

"I didn't crush you into a little pulp," Mick informed him. "Even though you asked for it many, many times."

"Guys," Sara chided. Then she took a deep breath. "Gideon," she asked, looking up. "You said there's an 83 percent chance of success if I return within ninety seconds. What're the odds the longer I'm out there?"

Rip gave her a warning look, knowing where that line of thinking was going and clearly disapproving.

"Once you've been out in the timestream for two minutes, odds of the Atom suit withstanding the temporal radiation drop to twenty percent. By two minutes and ten seconds, I calculate the odds at less than ten percent. Please do try to be back by then," she added.

"Aw, thanks Gideon," she said, a little touched at the AI's artificial concern. "But what about Leonard?" she added, as the thought occurred to her. "Once he's…back together. The Atom suit will protect me, but what about him?" Assuming this thing works and there will be a "him" to bring back.

Stein placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "If Mr. Snart can survive being blasted by an explosion of temporal energy, and has existed in some form here in the timestream for this long, well, a few seconds more won't be what breaks him."

What he didn't add, but Sara heard anyway, was, We hope.

As if reading her thoughts, Stein gave her a small smile. "He'll be alright," he said. "Oh, and remember, Sara, you need to be in the center of Mr. Snart's energy field when you activate the device for it to have the best chance of working."

She swallowed, nodding. "Let's do this," she said.

The others left, the cargo bay doors opened, and she jumped, floating out into time itself.

The first part of her trip went faster than she'd hoped, propelled as she was by the force of her jump. It was both good and bad, as all she could do was keep her eyes trained on the countdown inside the Atom suit's visor, watching her ninety seconds tick down one by one.

Maybe that's why she was so surprised when she passed through the ship's shield. It came upon her like a wall of shimmering light – one moment, she couldn't see it, the next, criss-crossing lines of energy had materialized into her immediate space. She braced herself, certain she would crash.

But she didn't. She moved through it, like passing through a sheet of water.

"It's okay Sara," Rays voice came over the comm. "Take a deep breath, your heart is racing."

She did, and realized she'd squeezed her eyes shut. She opened them, slowly, and then started at the sight before her.

"Why is it…blue?" she asked, staring in wonder around her. It made her feel like she was at the bottom of the ocean, no world above her, and none below. Just tendrils of light, from dark cerulean to bright turquoise, flowing over and around and under in an endless stream.

"It could be that outside of the Waverider's protective field, the human eye perceives the timestream as blue," Stein suggested. "Or it could be because you've entered Mr. Snart's energy field."

She'd slowed considerably. Rip was right, it was like wading through pudding. She glanced at the counter and had to stifle a wave of panic – it had already fallen to forty-five seconds. Half her time was gone.

She squinted as a solid mass of light and energy came into her field of vision.

"Is that his…soul?"

"We don't know, Sara," Ray responded, "the suit's cameras don't work out there. We can't see what you're seeing."

The light came closer, or she supposed she was coming closer to it, although it didn't feel like she was moving at all anymore. As she approached, it grew and solidified, burning bright electric blue, sputtering sparks like a dying star.

That was when the alarm went off.

It was set to twenty seconds remaining, the time the team wanted to pull her back to the Waverider. Her heart dropped at the sound, and she lost her breath. It was just a little beep in her ear, so innocent on its own, but it may as well have signaled the end of the world.

"Sara," Ray said, "we have to pull you back now, it's too dangerous – "

"No."

She felt something furious and cold and deadly creep into her voice. "If you do," she warned, "I swear there will be hell to pay." She stopped just short of threatening them directly. They were her friends, her family now, even, but if they ruined this chance…

She felt hot tears spring to her eyes, felt them crawl down her cheeks and leap off her chin, unable to wipe them away. "Don't make me leave him behind again," she begged. "I can't." Her voice broke. "I won't."

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The line went silent, save for the ring of the alarm. "It's my life," she reminded them, "it's a risk I'm willing to take. I'm so close."

Rip's voice came over the comm, startling her. "Leave her," he ordered.

"But –" Ray protested.

"You heard her," Rip argued. "It's her choice. But about forty more seconds is all you have, Ms. Lance, before the timestream will certainly be too much for the suit."

The mass of light was right before her now, much larger than it had originally seemed – as large as the Waverider's kitchen, she thought, idly, as she floated into the heart of it, the white-blue light surrounding and engulfing her.

"Now, Sara," Ray said, his quiet guidance a steady comfort in her ear.

She pressed the button on the little device, holding it out as far from her body as she could. It came to life with a little whine, and she felt a sharp tug on her arm.

"What's happening?" she whispered. But her team had no answers.

She watched, amazed, as tiny particles of light began separating themselves from the whole, little pinpricks of blue and silver, almost indistinguishable from the mass. They formed, fell, flew, and began spinning about her – just a few at first, and then dozens, and hundreds, and then thousands of tiny specks darting in all directions, crashing into one another, colliding and combining and dividing again.

And then she felt them moving away, a sudden coolness at her back as they swirled out in front of her, centering around the device.

Around and around they circled, shifting and changing and growing into larger spheres of light. They were moving so fast now, they left little tails behind them as they spun, like comets, she thought, faster and faster until her eyes couldn't keep track. A sudden, heavy heat pressed against her face, and she threw her free hand up to shield her eyes from the brightness. The lights swarmed together, forming a column, glowing and pulsing before her.

And then, it exploded.

She closed her eyes, shuddering as a wave of blinding light rocked through her. It left her ears ringing, her eyes throbbing. But a moment later, it was dark.

She risked a look, peeking one eye open and –

And he was there. Floating, as if weightless, arms and legs suspended and eyes closed, little dots of white light slowly drifting in the space around him.

Her breath caught in her throat. "It…it worked," she choked out.

Rip's voice was insistent in her ear. "Grab him and we'll pull you in – now."

Sara pocketed the device and reached out for Leonard, moving agonizingly slowly, propelling ever so slightly as she leaned forward. Finally, her gloved hand reached over his.

And went right through it.

She frowned, trying again. And again. But it was as if he wasn't fully corporeal, or wasn't fully there, and she couldn't, it wouldn't stick, it – the suit. She drew in a sharp breath. The Atom suit had all kinds of protections and barriers on it, for her safety, but…they were like the Waverider's shield. And maybe those safety measures were preventing her from reaching him. Without even thinking about it, she began unscrewing the glove from the wrist.

"Sara, what are you doing?" Ray cried.

A whole new set of warning buzzes and bells went off, but she didn't care. None of that mattered, not now. She ripped the glove off and let it drift away from her, reaching out again for Leonard. He was right there – right there. She wasn't giving up now.

Her empty hand closed around his wrist. His closed eyes snapped open. And found hers.

There was no time. There was no distance. And there was no death as his blue eyes stared into her, so very much alive.

But then something shifted.

She felt it in her bones, in her core – in her gut, when the world moved and time changed, taking on a life of its own.

The force pressed in on her, pushing and then pulling and tugging and twisting at her, bending and breaking without warning. They were moving, she realized, her and Leonard – no, they were falling, and quickly. There was no room left in her lungs for air, no way to move her mouth for speech. It was over and done and just beginning, as they found themselves spiraling through time itself.

Her grip never left his wrist. And his eyes never left hers. And then they were squeezed through space into nothing.

And nothing they became.


On the Waverider, the team faced the ship's windows, staring out at the empty end of the steel tether, the one that had, not so long ago, been attached to Sara Lance.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," Cisco said, his voice small.

"No shit," Mick growled.

"Where did they go?" Ray wondered, face scrunched in concern.

"A better question," Rip said, "if they're still alive, of course – would be, when did they go?"

Wells nodded, solemnly. "And how will we find them?"