Prompt #8: Who likes to wear the other's sweatshirts?

Headcanon: It became a means of comfort, one Sara started in secret shortly after Leonard's death at the Oculus. Some days, the scent he'd left behind was the only thing that kept her going, that kept her sane and quieted the demons and bloodlust. She thought she'd go mad without it, at least until, he finally came home.

It was a month after the deaths of Savage. Sara'd finally been able to properly mourn Laurel, in a way. Leonard still haunted her with memories of talks of their future. That morning, the battle had been harder than normal. It was against a fire using time pirate from the future trying to burn down the Smithsonian after displacing his favorite pieces to his time ship. Not only would Leonard's expert usage of the Cold Gun come in handy with the flames the idiot started, but also his expertise on each exhibit in the museum. Mick reminisced that his partner had always dreamed of pulling a heist in the place. Sara toyed with the idea of keeping one of the smaller jewels in remembrance of their klepto, but didn't.

That night, the nightmares took hold, keeping any level of sleep at bay for the blonde. She kept seeing the death of the man she'd fallen in love with but was too scared to act on it. After the fourth nightmare, this one about his version of a confession but ended with the blue light bursting from him and his scream of pain before she woke up. Sara shot up from her bed, staring in the direction of where he'd leaned into her space. Tears sprung to her eyes. She quickly stood and left her room. She roamed the Waverider for a while before stopping in front of Leonard's room. No one had made a move to clean it out. She glanced at the ring on her pinky. It was once his. She slipped into his room.

The door snapped shut behind Sara. A fine layer of dust covered the few items the man once owned. Taking a breath, she was surrounded by his scent, and suddenly she felt calm. It amazed her that his scent was all it took to calm the screaming of her demon, to cool the raging fire brought on by her bloodlust.

She looked to Leonard's closet. After a moment of hesitation, she opened it. His scent hit her again. It had her spontaneously grabbing one of his sweaters and rushed back to her room.

Over the next few months, even upon returning to the Waverider from being left in Salem, she went through the remainder of Leonard Snart's shirts. They were the only thing that could chase away the demons, the bloodlust. She'd noticed the looks early on from the rest of the old crew, but she honestly didn't care. Most of them knew how they'd felt about each other, at least to some extent.

She curled up in her room, buried in one of his shirts after they'd captured the past version of him, the one working with Damian Darhk. Mick was sure he was being controlled. It was the only explanation as to why he acted so much like his father. It was a shock to see the difference in the man he once was, and the one she'd fallen in love with. It was late, and the demons were louder than usual. She knew why. His scent was gone. It wasn't on his shirts anymore. It was gone from his room even.

Sara stood. In a daze she began to roam the ship. Eventually, she found herself in the brig, watching the man pretend to sleep. She memorized each of the lines of his face, the way his eyelashes laid against his cheeks. After a few minutes, she found herself drowning in pools of ice blue flecked with spring green. Her vision went slightly blurry as tears began to well in her eyes. A question flickered through his eyes though he didn't speak. He stood and slowly walked over to her. Before he could get too close, she turned and ran, blindly.

When she stopped she was outside his room, heart bounding. She slammed her hand against the bioscanner and darted in quickly. Her eyes wildly looked around. She was feeling caged in and had no way to get away. Her eyes finally landed on his shirts. She lurched forward, grabbing the large bundle in her arms. She made her way out of the room again and again found herself in front of his cell.

Leonard didn't pretend to sleep this time. The blonde had returned, this time with arms full of sweaters. They looked shirts he would wear. He looked back up at her face. Her face was blank, but her eyes screamed of pain and a deep sadness. What he saw actually made his heart ache, something that shocked him more than he cared to admit. Before he could react, she was in the cell with him, shoving the shirts into his arms. "Please." Her voice was quiet and rough. "I need his scent. I'm losing myself to my demons."

He looked down at the shirts in his arms. After a beat, he spoke. "What am I supposed to do?" He tried to force his disinterested drawl into the question but knew he hadn't really succeeded.

"Wear them for a while? I don't know." Sara sighed, reaching out to take them back. "Look. This was stupid. I'm sorry I asked."

Leonard quickly darted away. "I'll do it, if you promise to not kill me when you get done with me."

That floored Sara. "We aren't planning on killing you, none of you. You have so much waiting for you."

He studied her for a moment, glancing down at the shirts in his arms before returning his gaze to her. "Like you?"

She had a flash of a memory of looking down at the same man as he cut his eyes up at her. The words "About you?" slipping from his lips. He nodded at the sight, as if that told him everything. "I'll do it. It'll probably take a couple of days."

Sara nodded. "It'll take a couple of days to pinpoint when in time you're supposed to go back."

Leonard sat the shirts on the small cot in the room. He turns back to see the woman still watching him, as if trying to memorize everything about him. He continued to keep his distance, even if something pulled him to her. He felt a connection to her, but he didn't know why.

Moments later, Sara disappeared through the door, and he didn't see her again until she was announcing they knew when he'd been taken from and the exact moment he could be returned. He handed her the shirts, but before she could pull away, he tightened his grip. "What were me and you?" Her eyes widened, and her breath caught, and that was all he needed to know.

The moment his grip slackened, she spun away. Just as she got to the door, though, she stopped. Sara angled her head toward him. "Don't die, crook. You're all that I have to keep me sane." She pitched her voice low. "Find a way out of the Oculus. There's a fail safe that has to be held down. I don't care if you have to freeze something to hold it in place, just please get out of there."

And with that said, she left, never knowing he was making notes on it all. He may have given Mick crap for going soft, but if he could actually find someone that loved him like this Sara obviously did, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Sara's heart broke as over the next few months, a broken timeline, and being fired as a time traveling hero later the man still hadn't returned. The crap department store job kept her bloodlust on the surface far more than one would have ever expected, unless of course you'd had the job before. She still hit on men and women, but it was halfhearted. The only woman she'd truly loved told her they should go their separate ways, they were too different, and the only man she'd truly loved was dead.

When the crew got back together, they had a united front against, oddly enough, Rip's new little organization. Why did he bring them together if he was just going to tell them they weren't good enough? Everything they did was ultimately his fault. Some days she wondered if she should have stopped Jax from killing the Brit or if she should have done it. It was his fault Leonard was gone and not coming back. It was his fault she'd died again. It was his fault she'd never have the future that haunted her dreams. She wondered if he realized the irony. The very organization he rebelled against those few years ago and all those years in the future and the one he'd created were one in the same. She'd heard the whispers as she walked the halls. The agents all believed the Legends were wrong because of their emotional attachments. Many of the recruits were picked up from all over time as unwanted children.

It irked her to see the flash of sadness in Rip's eyes the last time he was aboard. She'd been having a bad day; the crew having gotten the invitation to Barry and Iris' wedding. It was a slap to the face reminder of what she'd never have. Rip and one of his little agents found her in his old office, curled up on the seat Len always took as his, bundled in one of the thief's sweaters, and staring at the invitation.

"I do hope you are all planning on attending. It will be the event of the century; I assure you." Rip's voice rang out.

"Don't care. Barry was his friend, not mine." Sara knew her voice was scratchy. She really just wanted to be left alone.

"He's not coming back, Sara. You are only hurting yourself with thinking he will." The man continued.

The agent watched them anxiously. She didn't understand why this group was still sanctioned, why Rip seemed to care so much for them.

Sara stared at Rip with hard eyes. "You mean hoping that the universe decides to stop screwing you over is pointless, but ripping eight people from lives and letting two of them die and another get beaten down so badly he rebels only to fail in saving someone you love is perfectly fine? Remember that the next time you sit and stare at Miranda and Jonas' pictures. Remember you told the woman that's come back from the dead twice to give up hope that the man she loves will. Remember that Leonard Snart died because of your failure of a mission only for you to create that exact same organization you rebelled against. Remember that for all of your grand 'leadership skills', your condemning of our actions, you are the reason we're here." She buried her face in the sweater, taking a large inhale in of Len's scent. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized it was beginning to fade. "You're creating the very organization that had your family killed. Maybe you should have died at the Oculus instead."

Rip's eyes widened as the woman stood and forcibly pushed past the two of them. He swallowed thickly before leaving. Some days, when he saw the deep pain and sadness in Sara's eyes, he wished he had died instead of Leonard. She needed her love more than she needed another brother.

They did attend the wedding. She got a drunken roll in the hay out of Alex Danvers, but it didn't make the pain go away, or the longing that she'd been with Len instead fade. Alex secretly asking her who Len was later on didn't help either. She knew she was talker during such activities, but apparently her drunken mind conjured up the image of Leonard instead of Alex while they were together. Lovely.

What made matters nearly unbearable was the introduction to Leo Snart. When he decided he wanted to join the Waverider crew for a bit, she wanted to say no so badly, but he'd helped in ways they'd never imagined. They would have been lost if it hadn't been for him, so she allowed it. She just hid away in her room more, cut him off when he tried to psychoanalyze her, and tried to generally ignore his presence. It was easier said than done. Mick eventually warmed up to him, but it wasn't anywhere near the same friendship she'd seen between him and her Leonard.

Sara never thought she'd be so happy to see someone with that face leave, but she was. He was a great guy, and he'd helped a lot, not just on missions, but she couldn't have him that close and not be her Len anymore. She was sitting in her office, she'd stopped thinking of it as Rip's after he basically told her to get over Len, when Leo leaned against the doorway. "You loved him." Her head shot up at the man's audacity to bring that up, and his eyes were trained on watching her closely. "And he loved you." He stated it so matter-of-fact.

Her eyes narrowed. "Nothing about me is any of your business." Her voice was cold. She didn't want to do this, not now. It was too close to the anniversary of the day she lost him.

Leo motioned to the sweater she wore, one of the last to still have his scent. "It's a gesture of comfort. That's why you wear his clothes: comfort from your grieving."

Her entire body tensed. She was not having this conversation, not with a man that wore his face. "Again, that's none of your business."

"True," he inclined his head, "but the statement still stands, all of them. You loved him just as much as he loved you, and now you have to take comfort in anyway possible because it still hurts to grieve him. I still grieve my Sara every day, some worse than others." He noticed when that gave her pause. "Ray knows he wasn't the first love of my life, or the one I still have dreams of a future with at times. He knows that is and will always be my Sara. She was killed by her own father for not supporting the Nazi cause and for loving me. She'd just told me days before that she was pregnant with our child. She made the mistake of going home and telling her father without me or any of our friends." He closed his eyes tightly as he tried to fight off the memories of seeing her lying there in the pool of her blood, abdomen sliced open sternum to pubis and her throat slit. He shuddered. "Just don't let your grief consume you. You have a crew that loves you. Hold onto that." He turned and left.

She buried her face in her hands. She didn't know what to do with her life anymore. She wanted to just be done.

They stayed in Central City for a few more days. Everyone had family they wanted to visit, but Sara didn't want to get off the ship, so she didn't. She was never good at being idle, and it just got worse with the loss of Leonard and Laurel. She sat on the bridge, staring out at nothing. It was the anniversary of Leonard Snart's death. Even Gideon was solemn that day. The AI had taken to the thief surprisingly quickly, charmed by his personality and wit. She'd gotten increasingly lippy since his death, and they all knew it was her way of keeping his attitude alive.

She felt the presence of others before they entered the bridge, but she felt no need to look to see who'd invaded her space. Suddenly, a quiet "Sara?" had her looking listlessly toward the entryway.

Her eyes widened at the sight of Leonard Snart and a man in a golden helmet and cloak with a blue chest plate and leggings. She was out of her chair almost instantly. "What's going on here? Gideon?"

The AI's voice was almost reverent when she spoke after quickly scanning the other occupants. "Mr. Snart, you survived."

The man quirked a small smile, his eyes never leaving Sara, as if trying to soak in the fact that she was standing before him. "Yeah, I used that chance Sara gave me to make a backup plan. It came close, but I got out."

Sara kept distance between them. "How? Mick said he used the memory wipe machine on you. It's been two years."

The man sighed. "I wrote some notes down after you left and hid them. When I came back to myself in my warehouse, I found a sketch I'd done of you in my pocket along with details of the Waverider, what everyone told me while I was in the brig, and your statement about the Oculus. Shortly after the Singularity, there were portals all over to other earths. I happened to get knocked into one. Not only were my notes about my future knocked out of my pockets, but so were all of my memories of being with the Legion, including them drugging me. Seems I landed at Dr. Fate here's doorstep. He knew who I was, where and when I was from, everything. He even saw you struggling with my loss and Laurel's. He saved me that day at the Oculus, transported me back to his home in the pocket dimension. I was injured from the encounter even if I didn't die, and my Metagene was awoken. I had to learn to control my abilities, all of them: ice and time. All I ever wanted was to come back to you, Sara."

The other man spoke for the first time then, "I allowed him to see what your crew was dealing with, what was occurring in your lives. He excelled because of that and finished his training much earlier than anyone would have normally. I deemed this the best time to return him." His voice sounded like many speaking at once, and it gave Sara a bit of a chill.

"How do I know you're our Leonard Snart? We just got one back to his earth. How do I know you're not displaced?" Sara couldn't let the bubbling of hope blind her anymore.

Gideon was the one to answer. "His right hand is of my construct. The vibration frequency I am reading from him is that of Earth 1. He is the Leonard Snart we believed to have died at the Oculus two years ago."

Leonard watched the woman register what was confirmed. He saw the moment it hit her that he was back and whole. He was only slightly prepared for the punch she delivered to his face, but he welcomed her being tucked against his chest in the next instant. "Never do that again." He almost didn't hear her muffled voice, but he did.

His arms wrapped around her securely. He turned his head to look at Dr. Fate, a silent thank you shown in his eyes. He watched the helmet nod and in a burst of golden light the man disappeared into an Ankh symbol. Leonard looked down at Sara, gently tilting her face up to look at him. She had tears running down her cheeks, something he never thought he'd see. Before he could speak, she beat him, "I want to see what our future holds, individually and together. Please."

His answer was to steal the kiss he'd been dreaming about for two years. It was a soft, slow, gentle kiss, so full of promise. He tenderly held her face in his hands, losing himself in the feeling of being there with her. Soon, they were in her room, curled against each other under the covers. They'd taken the time to remind each other that they were there together, that it wasn't a dream.

It was a few hours after the man's return when Gideon came over the intercom. "Captain Lance, the others have returned and are inquiring your whereabouts."

The woman sighed, leaning her head on the man at her side's bare chest. "I suppose we can't hide you any longer."

He brushed her hair out of her face then tilted it up to look her in the eye. "Every thing will work out, love. I promise."

She gave him a soft smile before sitting up and stretching. His hand went immediately to the scar just above her navel. He brushed it with a soft and worried, "Sara?"

So, Dr. Fate hadn't showed him everything. "I'm fine now, Len. I promise. Martin, Ray, and Gideon saved me." She leaned down and kissed him once again. "Besides we've proved to each other that we are fine and healthy and here quite a few times." She sent him a wild smirk as she slipped from their bed.

She found some of her clothes and, after a moment of debate, snatched up his discarded shirt and slipped it on, taking a deep breath as she always did. He was sitting up when he caught her eye, chest and scars bared for her to see. There was a question in his gaze. She glanced down at the sweater before hugging it to her again. "Your shirts. They gave me comfort while you were away."

He smiled gently at her. "I could still easily get used to the sight of you wearing my clothes if you want to keep that trend."

She gifted him with another kiss. "Gladly." She turned to the door, now it was time to let the others know that their thief was home.

AN:

I feel like these are coming out slower than originally, and if that's the case, I'm sorry! I have a huge project in the works with a friend of mine that, while it's coming along nicely, it's still a long way from being done.

In this prompt specifically, I worked under the idea that Leo is pansexual like Wentworth Miller said he was portraying Len. I have no idea if much is really in line with canon, mostly because I don't presently have cable and have not been able to watch the crossover yet. What I'm using is from information I've gleaned from Tumblr posts of scene clips. I apologize if any of that portion seems a little...iffy.

I hope you enjoyed it!