IN THE STILL OF THE NIGHT

2:42 AM - Central City

January 18th, 2017

"And Sara, honey, watch the language, please. No father wants to hear his baby girl droppin' F-bombs." From the shadows and into the bright light of a street lamp came Quentin Lance, dressed head to toe in snow gear, with his best accessory being the smile he wears from ear to ear.

"Dad?!" Sara gawks at him and drops her arms to her side. Guilt strikes her and she can't believe she's in the exact situation she'd been wanting to avoid since landing the Waverider. The only thing that could make this any worse would be if her mother just happened to stumble out from seemingly nowhere as well and join them.

More or less, Quentin looks the same since the last time she'd come to visit. A few more stress lines here and there, but that's to be expected, as is the greying of his hair. Though the proof of his aging makes her heartbeat quicken and her gut feel as if it's about to drop straight out of her ass. The universe hates me, her thoughts growl.

"Captain Lance!" Ray cheers, pocketting his Atom suit. "Or, wait, that's not correct anymore, is it?"

Sara rolls her eyes and ignores her teammate. "How'd you find us? And why aren't you in Star City?"

"You don't think I forgot what my baby girl looks like, do yah? I spotted yah when I was cutting through the park." Quentin flashes her a smile. "And that voice of yours, honey, I know it better than my own."

Beside her, Ray lets out an "awww", and Sara has to resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs. She averts her eyes and scans their surroundings, avoiding her father's gaze. Looking at him is brutal, especially while he stares at her with a loving smile and a shine of tears in his eyes.

"I came out here to help Joe West and Captain Singh with the L.O.D. case," Quentin continues. "Central City's the latest victim. Oliver contacted Mayor Bellows and offered help. Bellows ain't an idiot and so here I am, trying to find a link to the two biggest heists either cities have ever seen." He shrugs.

"L.O.D.?" Ray asks. "What's that stand for?"

"You're never gonna believe it," Quintin rolls his eyes. "Stands for the Legion of Doom. Blame the bloggers. They had a hayday with the whole thing. Got people scared stiff, and with the snow here and all most are stuck in their houses until the sun decides to show up and melt this shit."

Sara frowns, liking the snowy city. "Why are you out here in the middle of the night?"

Quentin raises an eyebrow at her. "I could ask you the same. The trains are finally operating again and running all night to make up for being shut down over the week, thought I'd catch one headin' back home. You, uh," he shuffles slightly on his feet. "You wanna come with? Been awhile since you been back. The others - Oliver, Thea - they'd sure like to see yah, kiddo."

"Dad," She sighs. "I-"

"Can't." The smile he wears is heartbreaking and Sara has to look away.

"Right."

"Because of your mission throughout time."

We have the same eyes, Sara realizes. Though hers are blue and her father's a toasty shade of brown, both are haunted by sorrow and guilt. And he sees it too. She winces. "Yeah."

Quentin rocks on his heels and nods, the lump in his throat bobbing as he swallows the words he wants to say. "Gotcha." He purses his lips and Sara wants to die. "Well, can yah spare a few minutes to walk your old man to the train station?"

"Sure, dad." She manages a smile.

The train station is only a few minutes out of their way, and thus the trio comes upon it quicker than expected, though not without the difficulty of icy roads and powdery snow. The ticket agent clears Quentin's online purchase from his cell phone app and hands him a voucher and seat number.

"Dad, I…" she turns to face him as they wait near the tracks. "I don't like leaving you. I want you to know that."

"I know, baby." His eyes shine with the tears that always show whenever they must say goodbye. "I'm just glad to see yah. You're all I got."

"That's not true!" Her voice cracks and composure slips and all Sara wants to do is throw her arms around her father's neck and promise him she'll come back home because it's all just too much.

Instead she stands still and makes no promises that she cannot keep. "You have Ollie and the others. They love you, dad. And they need you just like I do."

Quentin looks away. "You don't need me. You're off flyin' across time, fightin' throughout history, doin' stuff that matters. You're all grown up now, Sara. You don't need your ol' man anymore."

Her heart shatters and her eyes fill with tears. "I will always need you. Always. No matter how old I get or how far away I go. You never gave up on me, ever. Even after I came back from the dead and -"

"Don't even say it," He grumbles. "I ain't goin' to talk about that with yah. It wasn't you then."

She obeys and snaps her mouth shut. He has enough stress as it is, she lowers her eyes and kicks at the snow with the toe of her Doc Martens. "Still."

Her father sighs and Sara shivers. The feeling is familiar and again she allows the guilt she's gathered over the years to weigh upon her heart. Quentin has always been a fantastic father to her and Laurel, surely overprotective and at times a bit conservative. But he loved his children deeply and no one could ever fault him for that.

It makes everything so much worse. If only he faulted her, as she deserves. She had failed him. And her mother. And Laurel. Yet, here he is, smiling warmly and loving her despite everything she'd put their family through. Despite being too far away to save her sister's life.

Luckily, a train whistles in the distance, signaling its arrival is soon to come, and pops the straining bubble of awkwardness surrounding Sara, her father, and - God help her - Ray Palmer.

"So," Ray speaks up. "Hey, how much was stolen anyway?"

"Billions." Quentin frowns. "Nearly everything the bank had, and no trace of the assholes who'd done it," He shakes his head. "As far as anyone can tell - and that includes our friends at S.T.A.R. Labs - the Legion of Doom have split town. We got some footage rom the bank's surveillance cameras. Lemme tell yah, the guy they got on video is not acting within his typical pattern. Talked with Barry Allen and Cisco just this morning and they agree, Snart don't operate so blatantly."

"Snart?!" Sara and Ray yelp.

Her heart thumps, thumps, thumps. No, Snart is dead. It quickens; thump thump, thumps, thumps. He died. I saw him die. But she hadn't, had she? She definitely saw the Vanishing Point destroyed in an explosion of blue energy. Was there a chance he had survived?

"Wait," Ray snaps her back. "You mean Lisa, right? Snart's younger sister."

Quentin shakes his head. "Nah, definitely Leonard Snart's face. Thought he was off with you all, but then -"

"Snart died," she interrupts, all beating heart and shaking knees.

Quentin frowns, "He didn't look dead on the bank's surveillance footage. And look honey," he reaches out and gently places a hand on her shoulder. It's meant to be comforting, but Sara doesn't want pity. Leonard wouldn't either. Quentin gives her shoulder a squeeze. "I know you were on a team with him, but I read the guy's file, he has an incredible mind and has broken out of every prison he's been thrown in. Singh's had him placed on the city's Most Wanted list for years. He runs a mob, Sara - no, don't give me that look. I know you worked together, baby, but a guy like that don't change easily. I mean, chances are he faked his death and -"

"Leonard didn't fake his death." She wants to step back at the insult, out of his reach.

Ray nods beside her. "It's true. He died saving the entire team - and all of time, for that matter."

A loud screeeeeeeeeeeech cuts through their conversation as the train finally makes its arrival to Central City. At a full stop, the doors slide open and a small shuffle of late night riders step into the frigid chill.

The Conductor wastes no time and quickly readies his train for the next round. "Board in ten!"

"Look," Quentin drops his volume. "Go to S.T.A.R. Labs and have Ramon show yah the tapes. Cold is on 'em, plain as day." His eyes flit between Ray and Sara, urging them to heed his word. "Ramon's got it all; get over there as soon as yah can, yah hear me? Maybe the Legends can make sense of all this."

Ray nods, "Absolutely. We'll go first thing tomorrow." He sticks his hand out for a farewell handshake. "And thanks, we owe you for the tip."

Returning the gesture, Quentin clasps Ray's hand and dips his chin once. "You can pay me back by keepin' my little girl alive while you're on that timeship of yours."

Ray flashes a smile. "Yes sir."

Her father turns to her, his expression suddenly changing when their eyes meet. Sara offers him a small smile. "This isn't the last goodbye, dad."

His eyes immediately shine with tears and he wipes at them. "C'mere," his voice croaks and Sara steps into his embrace, squeezing tightly and burying her face in his chest.

"I love you, daddy." And I'm sorry.

He kisses her forehead. "Love yah too, baby." He hugs her tighter to him and lets out a shaky sigh before releasing her and stepping back. He shoves his hands in his pockets and shuffles awkwardly on his feet. "Honey, I -"

"All aboard!" The conductor yells. The few passengers waiting shuffle onto the train quickly.

"I better get outta here," Quentin gives the pair one more smile. "Take care of each other."

"Always," they respond in unicent, pulling a chuckle from Quentin before he turns to leave.

The walk is silent and strained. Though another overbearing feeling of unease overcomes Sara and she can't place the why of it. She's always hated leaving her dad behind - it's unfair. He's a good man, who fights bravely against powerhouses bigger than himself. He's capable of caring for himself. And if not, Oliver is there to watch out and protect him. She shouldn't worry, she has no reason to worry. And yet...

"Is-is the temperature dropping?" Ray's teeth chatter as he speaks.

"Feels like it," her answer is monotone, careless. They'd picked up their pace to make up for the loss time and to get Ray back to the warmth of the Waverider as quickly as possible. Clearly it wasn't fast enough, and again Sara reflects that it's his fault that he did not dress properly.

She frowns from behind her scarf and promptly yanks off her gloves. "Here," she holds the pair out for Ray. "Take them before your hands freeze off," she insists. When he does he mutters his thanks and they return to their wordless marching.

And then, "W-what if we stopped at a hotel for the night?"

She raises an eyebrow at him.

He whines in response. "Hey, c-come on! I'm losing feeling over here."

She lets out a sigh and scans their surroundings. "I don't see a-"

A shrieking wind whips around them, cutting off her words and bringing flurries of snow. Ray lets out a yelp of shock and Sara nearly stumbles against the sudden push.

"Shit!" She curses and flings her arms out for balance. The wind doesn't stop, with its scream piercing her ears and its force keeping her slim frame from holding stable in one spot. Her footing is lost easily and she almost tumbles to the ground below her more than once.

"Are you okay?" Ray shouts, somewhere near her.

The wind blows too harshly for Sara to open her eyes and she growls an angry "Fine!" back at him. The screaming doesn't stop and she swears she's never heard a wind like this before. "God damn it, what is this shit?!" She tries to push back, tries to keep her bearings, but it's nearly impossible with the elements working against her. "You alright, Palmer?"

There's no response.

"Ray?" She shouts, chancing her eyes open to search for him.

He's nowhere to be seen and Sara starts to panic. There's only thick snow that falls all around her in fat lumps, covering everything in sight - not that there is anything in sight. Literally all she can see is the endless white.

"Ray!" She screams against the wind, though the sound is drowned out easily. "Ray, damn it! Where are you?"

Again, the wind pushes hard against her, nearly bringing her the powdery ground. She digs her heels, trying to find a footing that works for her against this hell.

It doesn't work. And the icy concrete sidewalk is her undoing as she falls, smacking her head in the process.

Everything goes black.

She doesn't know how long she lays on the frozen ground. She's too cold and numb to care. Whether hours or mere minutes have passed, she lies on her side with her knees drawn into her chest and her face buried as far as she can get to absorb her own fading heat. She should have died by now. It was cruel that she had to wait out the inevitability.

Under Ra's she'd been tried conditioned against countless ways of torture and pain. The Demon believed in being above weakness, in being thorough.

But this...this she almost welcomed. Her spirit had been dampered since the night of the Oculus, since the death of her sister, since she'd realized she was a shit captain and even worse daughter. She struggled daily with herself, coating her attitude with anger to mask her self pity. The others didn't deserve that bullshit. And she didn't deserve them or their kindness. She didn't deserve those that cared.

She didn't deserve Laurel. Or Leonard. And now she was ready to keel over and die.

But it was taking too damn long.

Lance.

She groans. Her head hurts, aches really. Right on the temple.

Get up.

She snaps her eyes open. She knows that voice. Could it be? She shakes her head. No. Leonard is dead. He's been dead for nearly a full year. The dead don't talk. She would know.

Get up, Lance. Clearer, demanding, pissed.

Leonard, that voice. His voice. She blinks her eyes open, meeting infinite black. I'm losing my fucking mind.

Sara, you have to get up.

"L-Len?" she whispers, lips cracking.

Was she dying? Was Leonard the one to meet her on the other side? Why not Laurel? Was her sister coming to?

Or…

Sara, get your ass up now!

She slowly turns her head. It hurts, but she obeys and ignores the pain to bring herself to a sitting position. Her bones crack and her muscles scream in protest. Everything is numb and stinging at the same time.

She's so cold. Why was it so damn cold? It wasn't like this in the park, was it?

Her eyes adjust to the darkness surrounding her. The building is a large, empty space, likely an unused warehouse. Though her exact coordinates are a mystery at the moment. Everything is coated in ice, including the cage barely big enough to fit her. Everything but Sara, though that's sure to change soon.

A pair of hollow eyes stare at her from the other side of the bars.

Her breath hitches and her stomach lurches. "Holy shit." She squints, trying to properly see who her jailer is. And then, he leans forward, giving her a better view of the face she'd dreamt of nearly every night for months.

"S-Snart?" Her voice is thick with confusion - disbelief almost. But his salt and pepper hair, his blue parka, his long legs and square shoulders convince her enough to make her heart pound in her chest, her blood pump faster, her head swirl.

"It's me, it's Sara." Her voice hitches, emotions rising and she doesn't bother pushing them away. Tears freeze on her lashes. "I-I thought you died. We all thought you died."

His frown deepens. There's no recognition of her or his own name in his steel blue eyes. Only coldness, hate, a bleakness she cannot understand.

"L-Leonard." she refuses to look away or cower under his stare. His silence is relentless and cruel. And he's never looked at her this way before, with such venom. But he either doesn't remember or he doesn't care. He hates her, she can see it, can feel it in the cold surrounding them.

She notices he doesn't shiver like she does. The freeze doesn't phase him like it does her. She tries to control her body, but fails as another shake racks through her.

He continues to stare at her, still as stone. He sits before her cage, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together. His brow is furrowed and she can see the clench of his jaw.

Sara's mind races and her body won't stop shaking from the frigid chill. She sniffles and it hurts, making her wince.

"Snart, please," her voice cracks, sounding hoarse and raw as she practically begs. "This isn't you."

He says nothing, the temperature around them dropping.

"Y-y-you know wh-who I am!" Her teeth chatter as she speaks, her resilience chipping away as the biting cold snaps at her. "Y-you wouldn't keep me in a cage! We-we-we-agh!" She buckles and folds in on herself, trying to keep as much body warmth as she had left. Her trembling increases rapidly, her limbs painful and ice crusting in her hair, on her lashes, the tip of her nose. She fights to focus, to break him of this - whatever it was.

But still he sits, and still he stares.

Don't quit on me, Lance. Don't you dare quit.

How? How was it possible? How could she hear him in her own mind and see him sitting before her, clearly not making a sound? Clearly despising her? Her heart thumps in her chest and her mind swirls with confusion and sadness and fear. Her freezing, throbbing, numb body wants nothing more than to curl up and let herself die, let herself give in. She'd gone so long without him, cried and fought herself over the loss of him; how could this be the way they reunite?

"L-Leonard," she says softly. Their eyes lock, blue finding blue amongst the dark. "Your name is Leonard. And-and," her teeth chatter so hard she thinks they'll break. Despite it all, Sara gathers her strength and pushes herself upright again. "And you're a Legend."

He raises a single brow.