A.N.: Sorry, I think I got a little bit carried away with this one. It's a little more serious than the others and ended up being rather longer than it was meant to be.
21. Just A Little Accident Prone: Snart
There were illness to be treated also though they occurred much less frequently. Before they had even begun time travelling, Rip had made sure all of the team received broad spectrum immunizations to protect them against most of the major diseases they might encounter. However even the Waverider didn't have vaccinations against every disease out there. It simply wasn't possible. There were just too many. There were countless disease with countless variations which existed throughout the timeline. In the past, there were ones long forgotten to history and in the future, there were ones that had only just been invented usually in ways that made creating a vaccine especially difficult.
There was also still no cure for the common cold.
The Legends had not been particularly impressed when they found that out. A rather nasty cold had made its rounds through the team shortly after they'd defeated Savage, the blame falling squarely on Jax as he was the first one to get it. That was the problem with working and living together in such close quarters, diseases tended to get passed on. When the team had asked Rip why he couldn't instantly cure them, he had tried to explain how the constantly evolving nature of viruses and the large number of varieties of rhinovirus made that difficult but they had simply given him sour looks and stomped off like it was his fault, all except Ray and Martin that is. Those two spent an hour arguing with him insisting they could come up with a cure and taxing Rip's knowledge of immunology to its limits.
The only other major bout of illness that had to be dealt with, other than an unfortunate rash Sara managed to acquire somewhere, was the meat pie incident, involving some food acquired from an 18th century market stall, and the less said about that the better. There was nothing like trying to treat five cases of food poisoning while suffering from the same. Mick, to everyone's annoyance, had proven immune.
Of course, there were colds and there were food poisonings and there was what happened to Snart...
Much to his chagrin, Rip didn't notice when Leonard first became ill, but in his defense, Snart had proven very good at hiding such things, a skill he'd undoubtedly been forced to learn during his troubled childhood. He was also very good at hiding injuries. Fortunately, Rip had an unexpected ally in that regard: Mick.
Mick always knew when Leonard was hurt. Rip didn't know how he knew, Mick just did. Whenever Snart was injured, Mick would give Rip a friendly, and occasionally painful, prod in the shoulder and jerk his head in Leonard's direction letting Rip know it was time to order the man to medbay. When Snart was being particularly stubborn, Mick would drag Leonard to the medbay himself, shove him into a chair, and stand over him glaring, making sure Snart stayed while Rip treated his injuries.
Apparently, Leonard really hated people knowing he was hurt. He hated hospitals and doctors and having his injuries treated even more, and as Rip would find out, he hated being ill most of all.
It shouldn't have been surprising then considering all of this that Snart had hidden the fact he was ill or that Mick, of course, had seen right through him and known from the start what was wrong, something Rip only realized in retrospect. It was Mick's behaviour most of all which should have clued him in to the fact that something was off with Leonard. Snart's behaviour barely changed at all. He was a little quieter and what he did say had a touch more bite to it, and his movements were perhaps a tad slower, but that was it. Mick, on the other hand, had suddenly become glued to Snart's side keeping a close eye on him and acting like a silent sentinel. He didn't say anything to Rip though. He must not have realized how serious it was but then none them did until it was almost too late.
Sara was the second to figure things out, and then Leonard suddenly had two silent sentinels who he put up with only very grudgingly. Sara had become almost as good as Mick at noticing when Leonard wasn't alright and would fill in for Mick when he wasn't around letting Rip know what was up. She, of course, had her own way of dealing with a stubborn Snart. It didn't take much more than a glare from her to get Leonard to do what she wanted, all of his snarky protests met merely with an amused smirk.
It was almost two days though before Rip found out and it was only because Leonard threw up after a time jump that he finally realized what was going on. The more time you spent time travelling, the more your body grew used to it and the less side effects you experienced. Those days, unless it was a particularly long or particularly turbulent time jump, no one experienced much side effects at all. It had been months since anyone had been effected badly enough to spill their lunch on the floor, and since it had been a fairly smooth time jump, Rip knew the moment Snart bent over and began heaving that something was wrong. Illnesses like injuries tended to get aggravated by time travel.
As Sara rubbed Snart's back, Rip scrutinized Leonard noting the pallor of his cheeks and the weariness in his eyes. There was also a deepening in the creases on his forehead and a tightness to his jaw as if he were in pain. "Why didn't you say something?" he demanded.
Gathering himself, Snart sat up and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth managing to recover enough to send Rip a snide look. "Well, I'd have mentioned how lousy your flying is earlier but I didn't want to hurt your feelings."
Rip rolled his eyes. "You're ill," he said. "You should be in bed resting. I'd never have made the jump if I'd known you were..."
"I'm fine," Snart snapped.
Sara put a hand on his arm.
Taking a deep breath, Leonard reigned in his temper and said, "I just shouldn't have had the tuna salad for lunch. That's all."
"Even if that's the case," said Rip, "I believe it would be in your best interest for you to go back to your quarters and take it easy."
Snart scowled at him.
Unmoved, Rip crossed his arms over his chest. "If necessary I can order Mick and Sara to take you to bed," he said. "When it comes to your health, they, at least, might listen to me."
A spark seemed to return to Leonard's eye and a smirk spread across his face. "Just to make sure I have this clear," he said raising his eyebrows. "You're going to order both Mick and Sara to take me to bed."
There were several cleared throats and half-stifled snickers from the rest of the team.
Realizing what he'd said, Rip placed a hand across his face and groaned, "Oh, God. I didn't mean..."
"That's not usually my thing but hey, if a threesome's what the doctor ordered..." Snart said with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Oh, God," Rip said again. "Will someone just please take him to his quarters and make sure he gets some rest."
Amid several more snickers, Sara took Leonard's arm and after some persuasive glaring, managed to pull the reluctant Snart out of his chair and lead him off of the bridge towards his room.
Mick snorted. "About time you noticed," he said before following Sara and Snart out.
Rip gave a weary sigh. This illness meant Mr. Snart would be even more difficult to deal with than usual over the next few days, not to mention the fact they would be one short for their current mission, or more likely two since Rip was pretty sure Leonard wasn't going to stay in bed unless there was someone around to keep an eye on him. Oh, well, he mused, this too would pass eventually. With the proper care, Snart would recover fairly quickly.
Looking around, Rip noticed that while he'd been lost in thought the rest of the team had quietly snuck off the bridge leaving him alone to clean up the mess Snart had made.
Putting his face in his hands, Rip let out another groan.
Their mission was thankfully dealt with fairly quickly. They succeeded in fixing the time aberration completing what they needed to do before the sun even set that day, and they did it without Mr. Snart's help though, Rip had to admit, his expertise would have come in useful on more than one occasion.
With Leonard's current condition in mind, Ray made chicken soup for dinner, or at least, tried to. Cooking wasn't Ray's strong point. Thankfully, Jax stepped in and helped him make it. Unfortunately, the bowl of soup sent to Snart's quarters was returned untouched.
Rip wasn't too concerned. Loss of appetite was a common enough symptom when feeling ill. Shut up in his quarters as Snart was, Rip hadn't even seen him since the incident on the bridge, but with Sara and Mick looking after him, he was sure Leonard was in good hands, and they assured him that Snart was still healthy enough to be a pain in both their asses. So Rip went to bed peacefully that night with few worries on his mind.
And then he was woken up in the early hours of the morning by Mick literally dragging him out of bed.
The man barged into Rip's quarters, Rip had long since given up locking the door as all the members of his team had proven quite capable of finding a way past it, and grabbed Rip's arm yanking him out from under the covers. Still half-asleep, Rip almost ended up on the floor, only just managing to stumble along as Mick pulled him out of the room and down the corridor.
"Mr. Rory!" Rip exclaimed cursing as he was dragged along. "What the hell is..."
But Mick's only response was "Medbay now!"
Rip scowled and was about to utter a few more choice complaints about the rough treatment but all protests were forgotten when they reached their destination.
There were two people currently occupying the medbay. One was Sara. She stood leaning over the medical chair at the far end of the room. She wore a rumpled set of pyjamas. Long strands of blond hair had escaped her ponytail and her eyes were filled with a desperate worry. The source of her worry was obvious. Leonard sat unconscious on the chair, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his skin shiny with sweat, and his face pinched with pain. His complexion, which Rip had thought pale before, had reached a new deathly shade of pale except for his cheeks which were flushed a deep pink.
Rip didn't bother asking questions. He just rushed over to the screen beside Snart's chair which was currently displaying Leonard's vital signs. Gideon was registering his temperature as 105.7.
"He said he was fine," said Rip, anxiety softening the sharpness of his words as he went through the results of the scans Gideon had done so far.
"He always says he's fine," said Mick with a snort. "He's an idiot."
"I don't suppose he told you his symptoms," said Rip. It was obviously some sort of infection but he was uncertain as to what kind.
"He didn't say," said Sara, tiredly brushing a strand a hair from her eyes. "But from what I saw, I'd guess headache, exhaustion, nausea, chills."
"Dizziness," Mick added. "He almost ended up flat on his face earlier."
Those symptoms could mean a thousand different things, and unfortunately, Rip's medical training had concentrated mainly on treating injuries, not diseases. Feeling out of his depths, Rip looked at the scans again: high temperature, swollen lymph nodes, white blood cell count low instead of high so most likely a viral infection rather than a bacterial one.
As if on cue, Gideon announced, "There are indications of a virus in Mr. Snart's bloodstream."
"Can you identify it?" asked Rip.
"Negative."
Rip cursed. That meant there was no convenient antiviral Gideon could synthesize, no ready treatment plan they could follow. Trust a member of his team to catch some rare, dangerous viral strain no one had ever heard of. Rubbing his forehead, Rip gazed down at Leonard. The body already had an inbuilt system for handling diseases. If they just went with the old standards of giving him plenty of fluids and something to keep the fever from getting too high, Leonard's body might be able to fight the virus off on its own.
Eyes still closed in whatever restless sleep or state of unconscious he had fallen into, Leonard rolled his head to the side and let out a moan, a faint sound of pain and weariness he would have never let cross his lips if he'd been awake.
Rip felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest. Glancing back at the screen displaying Snart's vitals, he saw that Leonard's temperature was now at 105.9.
"Gideon," Rip called out. "Wake Dr. Palmer and Professor Stein. We're going to need them."
Once Ray and Martin had been woken up and appraised of the situation, they immediately set to work trying to develop a cure for Leonard. Neither one was a medical doctor but they both had backgrounds in biochemistry and hopefully that combined with some help from Gideon would be enough. Rip prayed it would be enough. They were currently stuck in the 12th century so there was no hope of any help from elsewhere. It would have been helpful to know where Snart had picked up the virus but they had been to several different time periods in the recent week, all of which occurred several centuries before humans even knew what a virus was. With very little to go on, the two scientists shut themselves in the lab analyzing the virus and trying to find its weaknesses while the others cared for Leonard and waited and waited and waited...
Hours passed, days passed and Leonard did not get better. He only grew worse, his body slowly weakening. He woke rarely and when he did, he was delirious, barely aware of what was going on around him. Those times were mostly spent trying to get him to drink down as much broth and juice as possible before he fell asleep once more.
Sara wouldn't leave his side. She sat on a stool beside his bed reading to him from one of the old, lengthy novels he seemed to enjoy or simply holding his hand. Mick spent a lot of time there also but could only stand seeing Leonard in such a state for so long before his restless temper forced him out of the room and sent him raging through the ship's corridors.
Rip was in and out of the room routinely checking on Leonard and doing what he could to make him comfortable. His inability to do more frustrated him greatly and he found himself wishing for something much more substantial than a virus to fight. With the state Snart was in, they couldn't travel in time so they were stuck in the same time period with no mission to go on, not that anyone really had the heart to go on a mission anyway. Rip spent his spare time trying to research possible time aberrations but found it hard to concentrate, his mind unwilling to focus on what he was reading.
It was because of this that late on the third day he found himself strolling down to the medbay for what was probably the twentieth time that day. Upon entering, he was surprised to find that on this occasion both chairs were occupied. Sara, after spending most of the past few nights awake, had finally succumbed to sleep. The chairs had been converted into beds and Sara lay on the one closest to the door, curled up awkwardly on her side so she faced Leonard. Of Mick there was no sign. He was probably demolishing the cargo bay again. Rip had assigned Jax to keep an eye on him. It gave the young man something to occupy himself with and kept Mick from doing too much harm to the ship or himself.
Rip pulled a blanket out of one of the cupboards, and then went over to Sara and gently lay it over her. The fact she didn't so much as twitch when he did so only went to show how exhausted she had to be. Rip brushed a stray lock of hair from her face frowning when he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Leonard wasn't the only one getting worn down by this disease. It seemed like the whole team was suffering right along with him.
Speaking of Leonard... Rip turned to the medbay's other occupant. There was no doubt Leonard Snart was suffering. The man had taken on a cadaverous appearance over the past few days. His face, which had retained its pallid colour, had grown thin and drawn highlighting the sharpness of his cheekbones. The shadows under his eyes were so dark they made his eyes look as if they'd sunken into his skull.
Rip tucked the blanket covering Leonard more tightly around him, and then lay a hand on Snart's forehead to check his temperature. The heat of his fever still raged. Gideon could measure Leonard's temperature to a hundredth of a degree but for some reason, Rip still felt the need to check for himself and at the moment, he could tell the temperature was much too high. Gideon seemed to agree. The temperature she displayed was 106.5. They'd been fighting to keep it below 105 at the very least but even that fight they seemed to be losing.
"Gideon, give him another dose of the antipyretic," said Rip, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb Sara.
Matching his volume, Gideon replied, "Mr. Snart has already reached the maximum recommended dosage."
Rip gave a tired sigh and reached up to massage his temple. "Do it anyway," he said. "If we don't keep the fever down, liver damage will be the least of his worries."
"Administering antipyretic," the A.I. declared.
Rip watched the screen displaying Leonard's vital signs. It took a little while but Snart's temperature slowly began to go down. 106.4 106.3, 106.2... It got as low as 104.7 but then stopped and remained steady. Rip shook his head. Better but still nowhere close to good. The same could be said for the rest of his vitals and every day they grew worse. Leonard couldn't last much longer at this rate. His body was simply wearing away.
Though his eyes remained closed, Leonard's face scrunched up and he muttered something incoherent as he stirred restlessly on the bed.
"Shh," said Rip, patting him gently on the shoulder. "You're alright." He let his hand rest there though it felt odd offering comfort when it would have been so quickly rejected if Snart had been in any other state of mind.
It seemed to work though as Leonard quietened down and became still once more.
Rip took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. Leonard Snart had been a pain in his ass more times than he cared to remember, probably more so than anyone else on the team. He was impudent, belligerent, eternally aggravating, constantly challenged Rip's authority, and yet... Rip remembered the dark hole that had been left behind when they'd thought they'd lost Leonard before. They couldn't lose him again, not like this.
Leaning forward, Rip whispered in Leonard's ear. "I know you hate taking orders especially from me but just this once I would like you to listen, just this once I would like you to do what I say." He took another deep breath and said simply and quietly, "Don't die." He gazed at Leonard searching, hoping for some sign that he'd been heard. "Don't let a blasted virus take down the great Captain Cold. You're time's not up yet. We still need you here so don't you dare leave us again. Do you hear me?"
There was no response. Leonard lay there quiet and still, his body limp, his face lifeless.
Rip sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Turning away, he grabbed the stool Sara had been using so much recently and sat down taking up a position between her and Leonard. The only noise in the room was the quiet sound of breathing as he settled in for a long vigil.
Several hours passed with little change in Leonard's condition. Sara remained asleep and Rip fell into a pensive mood as he watched over the two of them. Eventually, his own exhaustion started to catch up with him and he would have most likely nodded off but someone suddenly burst into the room startling him awake once more.
It was Ray and he was closely followed by Martin.
"Rip," Ray declared waving a small vial of pale blue liquid at him, a large grin on his face. "We..."
Rip placed a finger to his lips and gazed pointedly at the still sleeping Sara.
Following his gaze, Ray winced.
Fortunately, the exhausted Sara slept on.
Ray crept passed her coming over to stand beside Rip and continued speaking at a much lower volume. "Sorry we took so long. The virus had a rather complicated life cycle and we had difficulty finding a good target; then there were problems synthesizing the proper proteins and..."
"Dr. Palmer," said Rip, impatiently.
Ray got to the point. "I think we've found it."
Rip's eyes widened and he quickly rose from his chair. "An antiviral? You've found something that will kill the virus?" He stared at the vial in Ray's hand as if it contained water from the fountain of youth itself.
"Well, technically it won't kill the virus," Martin explained. "But it should stop the virus from replicating and hopefully help Snart's own immune cells target it directly."
"Hopefully," repeated Ray with a wan smile.
"Any hope is better than none," said Rip who had little of his own left. He nodded towards Leonard. "Do it."
Ray inserted the vial into an injector and shot the antiviral directly into Leonard's neck. "It's not an instant cure," he admitted, "but if it works, it should give Leonard the fighting chance he needs."
Rip gazed at the display of Leonard's vitals knowing it was too soon to see one but hoping for some sort of sign the antiviral was working. "How long do you think it will take until we see a change?" he asked.
Ray and Martin looked at each other.
"A few hours maybe," said Martin, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "I'm afraid I can't be any more precise than that."
Rip gazed at Martin. The professor looked haggard, Ray as well. They'd been putting all of their energy into finding a cure over the past few days. They probably hadn't gotten anymore sleep than Sara had.
"Why don't the two of you go get some rest," he said. "I'll keep an eye on Snart."
"Are you sure?" asked Ray. "I mean... we can..." He interrupted himself with a yawn.
Rip gave him a weary smile. "Go. Sleep," he said. "I'll be fine."
The two were obviously much too tired to argue and they slowly trudged off to their respective quarters leaving Rip alone with the sleeping Snart and Sara. He sat back down on the stool and sighed running a hand through his hair. Once more he was reduced to waiting. He hated waiting. He scrutinized Leonard carefully. Was his colour better than before? Rip shook his head convinced he was seeing things.
Time passed slowly, minutes and hours blurring together, and soon Rip's eyes began to droop, exhaustion drawing him into a light doze.
He was brought back to awareness by a voice, a weary croak that sounded as if its owner had been gargling gravel. It said, "You look horrible."
"What...?" Rip blinked wondering when he had fallen asleep. His gaze automatically sought out their sick patient and he almost fell off his chair when he saw Leonard gazing back at him.
Leonard gave an amused huff, his lips twitching in the tiniest of smirks.
Rip's eyes widened in disbelief. "Leonard. You're..." he began and then what Snart had said registered as Rip's brain finally caught up with him. He shook his head and pushed back the fringe of hair which had fallen over his forehead. "Look who's talking," he said with a wry smile.
Leonard might have looked awful but he looked so much better than before, his complexion less pale, his cheeks no longer flushed.
Rip got up and placed a palm against Leonard's forehead as he'd done so often recently only belatedly realizing the gestured would probably not be a very welcome one now that Snart was rather more aware of what was going on. He quickly pulled his hand away. Thankfully all Snart did was give him an odd look. His temperature felt much better than before and Gideon confirmed it. The temperature she currently displayed was 99.1. The fever had finally broken. In fact, all of Leonard's vital signs were vastly improved. The antiviral must have worked.
A wave of relief washed over Rip.
"Uh...," said Leonard, and then he coughed and cleared his throat.
Rip quickly fetched him a glass of water and a straw.
Leonard's hands shook a little but he managed to hold the glass long enough to take a few sips. Once he had done so, he said, "I don't suppose you would mind telling me what the hell I'm doing here and why I feel like I've spent the past few days being pummeled by a ten ton gorilla."
"You, Mr. Snart, have been rather ill," said Rip, taking the water back from him.
Snart frowned. "Yeah, with a stupid cold."
Rip shook his head. "That was much more than a cold. Whatever virus you had the misfortune of catching has had you stuck in here for over three days."
Leonard rubbed a hand across his face and let out a groan. "You have got to be kidding me." Looking past Rip, something caught his eye and his features became contorted with concern. "Sara, is she...?"
"She's fine," Rip reassured him. "She's just catching up on the sleep she's been missing out on recently. She's been rather busy watching over you the past few days."
"Oh," said Leonard. He continued to stare at Sara, a softness to his eyes Rip had rarely seen.
Rip looked away trying to give the man some privacy. "So you don't remember anything about what's happened recently?" he asked.
Leonard sighed and shook his head. "Just some half remembered dreams," he said. He frowned, and then turned to stare at Rip, the odd look returning to his face.
"What?" said Rip.
Eyes still narrowed in that inscrutable stare, Leonard said, "I do have one vague memory. Something about somebody telling me not to die, that I was still needed."
"Well," said Rip. He cleared his throat and turned away pretending to study the medical diagnostic screen. "Well, your fever was rather high and you were more than a little delirious."
"Right," said Snart, slowly drawing out the word. "Probably just my overactive imagination." Letting out a huff of air, he added, "So when do I get out of here?"
Rip rolled his eyes. Of course, Leonard's immediate concern would be to get out of medbay as soon as possible. "You still need time to recover. Your body has been through a lot. It needs rest."
"I can rest in my room," Snart protested.
"We need to continue monitoring you to ensure the virus is completely out of your system so you don't have a relapse," Rip countered. "And you'll probably need a few more shots of the antiviral Dr. Palmer and Professor Stein concocted to ensure that happens, and for that it's best if you stay here"
"Fine," Leonard grumbled.
Rip raised an eyebrow. Was Snart actually going to listen to him? Of all the miracles and wonders. "You should enjoy the peace and quiet while you can," he said. "Knowing this team, it won't last long."
He was right.
Only moments later, Mick stomped into the room, his eyes widening when he saw Snart. "You're awake!" he exclaimed.
That was perhaps not the best thing to do in the circumstances since it finally roused Sara from her deep slumber causing her to spring from her bed and draw a knife.
Rip had no idea where Sara had been keeping that knife and he didn't want to know.
"What's going on?" she cried gazing around frantically.
"The idiot's awake," said Mick.
"What?" said Sara, and then her eyes fell on Snart. "Leonard..." she whispered in breathy relief.
Snart rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'm awake," he said. "What's wrong with you two. You act like I was dying or something."
Sara shook her head in exasperation but the effect was ruined by the huge grin that spread across her face. "You..." she began pointing a finger at him. Seeming to change her mind, she lashed out at Rip instead swatting him painfully on the arm.
"Ow," Rip exclaimed as he rubbed his arm. "What was that for?"
"Why didn't you tell me he was awake?" she demanded.
"He literally woke up five minutes ago," said Rip raising his hands in the air in protest. "Besides you were asleep."
"Aw, lay off the captain," said Leonard. "He knows better than to wake a sleeping assassin."
And now Leonard was coming to his defense. Rip's eyebrows raised in disbelief. Clearly Snart's brain had been damaged by the fever.
"But he's going to be okay, right?" Sara asked Rip, some of the worry that had been weighing her down the past few days returning to eyes.
"He's going to be fine," Rip assured her. "Dr. Palmer and the professor came up with an antiviral and it's helped break the fever but Mr. Snart still needs rest."
Mick, who had been quiet throughout this, walked over to Leonard, put a hand on his shoulder, and leaned over him glaring.
"Hey, Mick," said Leonard, giving him one of his best smirks, not the least bit intimidated by the other's large, looming form.
"Don't do that again," Mick growled.
"Right," said Snart with a nod. "In future, I'll be sure to avoid any deadly viruses I happen to come across."
"See that you do," Mick said pointedly as he let go of Leonard's shoulder and stood up straight once more. "If you don't..."
"I know, I know," said Leonard. "If I die, you'll kill me."
"Same goes for me," Sara said with a wry smile. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.
The hug surprised Leonard and his normal cool demeanour was briefly broken though he tried to hide it as he hugged her back.
A tired smile crept across Rip's face as he watched them. Seeing the exhaustion still very much present on Leonard's face, he said, "I think it's time we let Mr. Snart rest. In fact, I think it's time we all went to bed."
"Great," said Snart, his lips spreading in a wicked grin. "Then we can finally get started on that threesome."
"What?" said Rip, and then he groaned casting his eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, God. I don't... That's really not..."
"Or we could have a foursome if the captain wants to join in," Snart added.
"Oh, God," Rip said once again, groaning even louder. He could feel his face flushing as both Sara and Mick grinned at him.
"The bed might be a bit small but I'm sure if we..."
"Oh, God," Rip said for the third time hiding his face in his hands.
Well, he thought, at least everything was back to normal.