So we now have both of the criminal members of the team back. Unfortunately, everyone is stuck playing the waiting game to see if they are actually alive. And just for any of my readers who think they are so smart, I once killed off my favorite character of a series in the second chapter of my story. I can be really brutal to those that I like in my writing.

Being an educated and intelligent man, Stein was very familiar with the sensation of those around him expecting him to know everything. And while he wasn't an expert in all fields, he generally could handle most queries directed towards him. There were advantages to being a brilliant and respected scientist with decades of experience. Stein had gathered a vast amount of knowledge in his lifetime.

But there was one particular branch of science that everyone kept pushing Stein into that the man wished they would stop. For all his brilliance, he was not and held no interest in becoming a medical doctor.

If Stein wanted to poke and prod at someone's internal organs, he would have attended a prestigious medical school rather than studying physics. He did not have the temperament or interest to pursue that path. And yet, against all odds, he kept finding himself trapped in that role.

When Rory came to him with stories of hallucinations, Stein tried to offer what advice he could even with no psychiatric or psychological training. And when a brain scan showed the presence of an implanted chip, Stein felt as if he had no choice other than to aid Gideon in performing brain surgery to remove it. Especially since Rory seemed distressed enough by its presence that Stein wouldn't be surprised if he tried carving it out of his head with a spoon. And when Sara was shot in 1776, after the Waverider was knocked offline by an EMP, there was no technology to care for her and Stein was forced to act as a doctor to save her life. These situations kept happening and Stein was slowly resigning himself to his fate, no matter how uncomfortable it made him.

And yet again, he was recruited for a medical role. Literally recruited this time. Barry met the returning group just in time to say that Rip requested they stay out of medbay for the moment, but that he also wanted Stein's assistance with the patients. What else could he do other than accept? At least Gideon was online this time.

When Stein entered medbay, Rid directed him to a pair of gloves (normal gloves rather than rubber ones) and asked him to start trying to get the fabricated clothes on the pair. The gray fabric almost reminded him of flannel and the snaps would make it simpler, but Stein knew that maneuvering the almost-pajama-like clothes around stiff unconscious men wouldn't be easy. Their arms were locked in awkward positions and he still needed to get their footwear wrestled off. But Stein could see the importance of his task and how the new clothes would help warm them. And since Rip was already focusing on Rory, he decided to start with Snart.

As Stein tried to determine what would be the least damaging way to remove Snart's footwear, Rip seemed to be aiming the cellular regenerator at the arsonist's chest. Stein could see images of blood vessels and lungs on the display. Certain points would flash briefly, indicating tissue damage in need of repair. Of course, with all the visible injuries from frostbite, it only made sense that there would be internal issues as well. But Rip seemed to be dealing with it already with Gideon. He had complete confidence that the A.I and the former captain would be able to handle the medical treatment.

Then the screen started flashing red and clear, though not especially loud, alarm rang out in the room. Rip cursed quietly before yanking the cellular regenerator away from Rory's body.

Confusion and panic gripping him, Stein asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Stupid," he said, shaking his head. "I was stupid. The cellular regeneration process will recreate tissue, but it automatically does it at normal body temperature. Which would instantly be damaged again because his body is still too cold. We can't start repairing the injuries from the frostbite until they warm up enough. Otherwise it's just a waste of time and won't do them any good."

"It would be advisable to repair the damage gradually as well," suggested Gideon. "Once their body temperatures are high enough to allow proper cellular regeneration, they will be vulnerable to sudden changes. That includes movement, abrupt temperature changes, or excessive stress from the regeneration process. If Mr. Snart or Mr. Rory fall into shock in the process of repairing the injuries, it could be difficult to stabilize them."

"How difficult?" Stein asked.

"Fatally so, Professor."

How could the A.I. sound so cheerful saying things like that?

"Fine," Rip said. "We'll work on getting them warmed and stable for now. And see if we can actually detect any brainwaves."

During less serious moments where Stein might be annoyed by the man, he might have made a sarcastic remark about Rory and brainwaves. But with Rory sprawled there, all his scars and frostbite damage on display, the very idea made Stein feel guilty.

"Just make sure to keep track of their core body temperatures, Gideon," he continued. "We'll need to use the cellular regenerator once instantaneous frostbite is no longer a threat. There's a lot of work to do on both of them."

Stein managed to cut the laces on Snart's footwear and pulled at the tongue just enough to slip it off his foot. And once he also cut off the sock, Stein flinched at the exposed damage. Being trapped and confined in a bitterly-cold shoe did nothing to help his foot with the frostbite, turning it swollen and discolored as a result.

At least they had access to future tech to treat the damage before it reached the stage of turning black and falling off. Even without a medical degree, Stein knew about that unpleasant possibility. There were some documentaries that he should have avoided watching.

"We have to take our time," Rip muttered, shaking his head wearily. "People aren't supposed to surviving being so cold. We have to be careful. If they're actually alive, we don't want to risk killing either of them by rewarming or fixing the damage too quickly."

Stein knew he was right. It would be too easy for them to die. He didn't know of anyone who ever survived temperatures even close to what those two experienced. Though certain metas might have a chance. And all of that was assuming that Snart and Rory were even still alive. There were certainly no external signs.

But perhaps, with proper care, futuristic tech, and a little faith, their team would be whole again.

He could tell that Amaya wasn't in the right mindset to stay in the same room with a crowd. Not after he saw her expression when they pulled Rory out. He didn't want to use the obvious metaphor, but he had the feeling it would make her feel like a caged animal. So once it became clear that the medbay was currently barred to all visitors, Nate managed to lead her to his room and let her deal with her emotional turmoil in private. Which mostly consisted of the two of them sitting on the edge of his bed, his arm around her shoulder as she stared blankly at her hands in her lap.

Another man might be jealous, but Nate knew better than to be that stupid and insecure. Not only did it make sense for teammates to worry about each other since being part of a team involved caring about one another, but she was also Rory's friend.

The arsonist wasn't exactly the easiest person to bond with. He was gruff, blunt, and somehow had a knack for saying exactly what no one wanted to hear. Not to mention his unhealthy relationship with fire. Rory wasn't close to many people, even if he was part of the team. But Amaya was his friend. She cared about Rory. Not the same as she seemed to care about Nate, but that didn't mean it wasn't important. Nate wasn't so petty that he would begrudge the two of them that friendship. And because the two of them were friends against all odds, Rory's current state was clearly affecting her.

She didn't burst into tears or crumble. Amaya wasn't like that. It wasn't in the nature of the powerful and strong woman he loved. She'd been in war. She'd seen plenty of pain, suffering, and injuries to those she'd cared for. She's lost people before. But she wasn't made of stone either. Nate could see she was hurting. He could see it in her body language and in her eyes. She was in pain and he couldn't make it stop. All he could do was try to help as much as he could and to be there for her.

For someone who could turn into metal, Nate felt pretty useless and powerless at the moment.

"I shouldn't have let him go," she said quietly, breaking the silence. "I could have stopped him. This is all my fault."

Brushing her hair back, Nate said, "It's not your fault. Rory probably would have just tried again later. I don't know if you've noticed, but he tends to do whatever he wants. Like when he made friends with the guy he was supposed to fight. Remember? You would think getting him to start a bar fight would be easy, but no. Too bad I missed that part. I would have loved to see how that happened."

The memory of the Old West managed to spark a weak smile from Amaya. Nate considered that progress. Maybe he could pull her thoughts away from her friend's current condition. Having her focus on a different topic might help. But it couldn't be too different or she might not go for the bait.

Well, there was at least one topic that they could try.

"So what do you think Snart will be like?" asked Nate, still brushing her hair back with his hand. "We're the only ones who never knew him."

"Except for the version who joined Thawne," she said.

"From the past," said Nate with a nod.

That was the thing. The version of Snart that they'd faced briefly was only two years away from the one in medbay. Two years wasn't a long period of time to truly change in. Nate remembered Ray rambling about how the Legion of Doom version of Snart killed the other version of Rory, the scientist clearly upset over the incident. How much of that man remained?

Did they need to worry about him waking up? The others seemed to trust and miss him, but Nate couldn't completely banish his concerns. Until he could properly judge the man in the present, he knew that past experience would continue to color his views.

"I don't know what he'll be like," Amaya said thoughtfully. "He is just as much a criminal as Mick. And he's supposed to be an expert thief. He seemed fairly cold and efficient when we met him, but we know that he sacrificed himself rather than let someone else do it." She raised her head and turned towards Nate. "And we know that the team respected and trusted Snart enough to grieve his loss and to welcome his return. I may not know what Snart will be like when he wakes up, but I have learned enough to give him a chance."

Smiling at her, preferring Amaya reflective rather than worrying, Nate said, "I suppose that's fair."

Having been banished from medbay, they'd mostly wandered back up to the bridge. Nate and Amaya had vanished somewhere and Sara eventually went to do her "throw knives at improvised targets in the cargo bay" thing that she did when thinking or stressed. No one opted to try disturbing her or following. Everyone else claimed a chair, a wall to lean against, or even a spot of the floor. Even Barry, Cisco, and Iris only briefly vanished to the galley, super speed apparently requiring a lot of calories, before reappearing to join them in the tense waiting game.

Conversation was stilted and hesitant. The atmosphere seemed to weigh down on all of them. It was clear where everyone's thoughts were. Jax certainly knew what obviously occupied Stein's mind.

Once it would have been strange to even consider the idea of sharing a psychic bond with someone, let alone occasionally share a body. Now Jax could barely remember what it felt like to be alone in his own head. Just like flying and creating flames as Firestorm, feeling Stein at the back of his head seemed natural. And if Jax should ever lose that connection, he imagined it would feel like a large open wound in his mind that would never heal. It was the sensation that he would pick up from Stein occasionally when he thought about Ronnie, the loss and guilt almost painful when it caught the man off guard.

Jax could feel their bond prickling at the back of his mind as the young man sat against the wall. Stein's brief moment of panic, the undercurrent of worry and concern, and the general discomfort practically radiated through their psychic connection, the man not even trying to block off his emotions. He was too distracted to attempt the necessary concentration. It frayed at Jax's nerves, making it harder to keep track of where his own worry ended and where Stein's began. But Jax did his best to keep his partner from feeling his current emotional state. Otherwise they'd create a feedback loop as his anxiety fed off Stein's and his in turn fed off Jax's, continuously strengthening until they both ended up as nervous wrecks.

He should be working on repairs. They managed to get the Waverider moving, but there were things he could still fix. It might take his mind off the situation. But he knew the repair work would require a large amount of concentration and Jax needed that concentration to keep his emotions from distracting Stein. That left him curled up in the bridge with his tense friends and his thoughts.

A few hours ago, Jax had been trying to ignore some mild anger at Mick. Even if he didn't do it this time, at least one version of Mick betrayed the team. Again. And Jax couldn't stand the idea of turning against people who trusted him and vice versa. There was just something utterly wrong about that. The arsonist did it once and they forgave him, deciding that his experiences at the hands of the Time Masters was punishment enough for his actions with the pirates. But then it nearly happened a second time and only a visit from their alternate versions kept him from following that path. Jax felt guilty for even partially blaming Mick for something that he didn't actually do, but he couldn't change how he felt.

But now Jax got it. He understood why. Mick wasn't trying to betray his team. He was trying not to betray a version of his partner. He and Snart had known each other for decades. They had more history together than anyone else on board. And if Jax understood anything, he understood the importance of a partner. If Jax ever had to choose between Stein and the rest of the team, he wasn't completely certain what he'd do.

No, he knew who he would choose. He'd feel guilty about it, but Jax knew who he would choose. He would do anything to protect Grey because that's what partners do.

And Mick, when confronted with a version of his partner that he couldn't keep and who barely resembled the man who sacrificed himself to destroy the Oculus, chose to do whatever it took to save his friend. Jax could understand the impulse. He just wanted his partner back.

Jax ran a hand across the top of his head. The idea of getting their lost teammate should have been a happy occasion. But they were all waiting anxiously for the news of whether they regained a teammate or merely lost another one. He saw how Snart and Mick looked when they pulled the pair back. They looked practically dead. Only the fact that Rip and Stein hadn't come out with bad news reassured the team that they were alive.

For once, no news truly was good news.

"I still can't believe this happened," said Cisco, half draped in one of the chairs. He'd picked up the Heat Gun in the aftermath and was still holding onto it, the weapon casually resting on his lap since no one else had any better ideas what to do with it for now. "Nothing makes sense anymore. Heat Wave managed to figure all of this stuff out, he figured out how to pull a prison break from the Speed Force of all things, and he didn't know what would happen to him? That's crazy."

"Nah, man," Jax said quietly. "He knew. He just didn't care."

"I guess he figured getting Snart back was worth it," said Barry, leaning against the wall with his mask down to expose his face. Iris sat next to him, her back against the same wall and her legs pulled close. "Guess Cold wasn't the only one with the potential to be the good guy."

"They'd both shoot at you if you told them that," Iris said as she glanced up at him.

Occupying the chair next to Cisco sprawled form, Ray said, "It should have been me."

"What do you mean?" asked Cisco.

"It should have been me trapped in that place." Ray shook his head. "I was supposed to die or get blown up or whatever that day. The Oculus showed Rip that glimpse of the future. But when the time came, Rory knocked me out and took my place. Then Snart did the same for him. Snart might have been the one trapped, but it should have been me."

"Don't blame yourself for other people's choices," said Barry. "It's hard. Believe me. But it isn't your fault that Rory tried to take your place. And it isn't his fault that Snart did the exact same thing. Good or bad, they are responsible for their own decisions. You can only help as much as you can." Running a hand through his hair tiredly, he said, "And both of them are here. They made it back. They're too stubborn to die."

Jax couldn't help the wry chuckle that slipped out at that. And judging by the weak smiles that blossomed on the others' faces, it was a shared reaction. From the moment that he met the two criminals, Jax could tell they were survivors. No matter where or when they ended up, Snart and Mick could handle it. And usually rob everyone blind along the way. Even when Snart sacrificed himself, it didn't seem completely real for the longest time. If anyone was going to survive the mission in the end, Jax always figured it would be those two.

He felt something shift, the emotions coming through the psychic bond changing slightly. The worry, concern, and discomfort were still there. Jax could feel it prickling at the back of his head. But the anxiety had eased off a bit. Stein was doing better than before. And there was hesitant relief, which coaxed the same emotion from Jax.

While he might not know what was happening, Jax could tell it was promising.

The knife buried deeply into her makeshift target, her arm moving smoothly through the practiced throws. Any form of combat training always seemed to help her. Throwing her knives at targets while adding in some basic strikes and blocks at imaginary foes was just easier and safer than some of her other options.

When she wanted to think, letting muscle memory guide her actions would let Sara's mind deal with difficult issues undisturbed. Her body would go through the motions and keep her active while she thought over her problems.

But if she didn't want to let her thoughts haunt her, Sara would put her entire focus into the familiar attacks. Each strike, slash, and stab was performed to absolute perfection. She concentrated on every muscle movement to ensure nothing was sloppy or weak. Sara poured all her energy into her body with such intensity that her mind wouldn't be able to wander.

She had fallen back on the strategy numerous times over the last few years. Both to think and avoid thinking. She used to spar with Nyssa like this when one of them needed either a distraction or a chance to focus. Neither of them really found the quiet and stillness of meditation to be quite as effective as something far more active. She could always find relief with these methods.

But today, Sara threw herself into her knife throws and yet her mind refused to settle.

Mick risked everything today. Or rather, he risked himself and no one else. Not even Cisco and Barry were placed in any form of danger. He drew upon what his time as Chronos taught him, recruited heroes from their present, and nearly killed himself to pull off a miracle. Underestimating Mick was certainly a mistake the entire team had made at different points in the past, but she certainly wouldn't repeat it in the future.

But while concern for the arsonist kept nipping at the edges of her mind, Sara's thoughts kept tumbling towards the thief.

Sara accepted Leonard's choice to sacrifice himself. Not that she could have done anything to stop him. The only way to prevent it would be to knock Leonard out, but then there would have been no one to drag both him and Mick out afterwards. It could have been all three of them dying or just him. Leaving Leonard behind to destroy the Oculus was the only option. She knew that and accepted his decision. All she could do was steal a single kiss before leaving.

Another knife flashed through the air and buried itself into the target.

That was the tragedy of it. After countless card games, friendly conversations, and fights ranging from fun ones in bars to intense ones against heavy forces, there was no denying that she and Leonard hit it off. They got along great and always had a good time together. And between his clever mind, his wry and sarcastic sense of humor, and his flexible morality, there was plenty going for him. Not to mention the same thrill of trouble that drew her towards Ollie back when he was dating Laurel and then to the beautiful and deadly Nyssa. What could she say? She was attracted to relationships with just a hint of danger and excitement. But ironically on a timeship, they ran out of time to see if anything could develop between them.

She left him behind. Any future that might have been disappeared. She accepted it. Unlike with Laurel, Sara at least got to tell him goodbye. She had at least a little closure.

But now Leonard was lying in medbay, trapped between life and death from hypothermia. And if he lived, if he woke up, there would be another chance to see what could happen. There would be a chance to see what the future might hold.

For him. For her. For him and her.

Another knife flew from her hand, but landed slightly to the left of her goal. She growled quietly at her suffering aim. The League of Assassins would mock her for that throw. Sara blinked a few times to clear her vision and ease the burning in her eyes.

She didn't know what would happen when he and Mick woke up. And she refused to consider that they wouldn't. She really didn't want to think at all. There was nothing she could do for the pair. She needed to do something productive. She needed to do something useful. She couldn't sit still, powerless and waiting. So Sara just doubled her efforts to concentrate only on her practiced throws and strikes.

Focus only on perfecting her form. Every movement must be smooth and lethal. She threw herself completely into the motions. There could be no mistakes. Sara finally managed to push her thoughts away and quieted her mind.

She wasn't certain how long she spent in the cargo bay, attacking and hurtling the blades. Sara didn't even pause. She just did her best to wear herself out until she would be too exhausted to think. And considering her training, that could take a while.

"Captain Lance?" Gideon said abruptly pulling her out of her practice.

Breathing a little harder as she pushed a stray hair from her face, she asked, "Yes? What is it?"

"Captain Hunter and Professor Stein wish to speak to everyone," Gideon stated. "Would you like to join the others on the bridge?"

The prospect of news made it impossible to maintain her tranquil and blank mindset. Her thoughts returned to the two teammates in medbay. If Rip and Stein wanted to talk, then either things had gone wrong or they discovered some form of hope for the pair. It meant something good or something quite ill for one or both patients.

The League of Assassins covered all forms of death, from the most direct and brutal methods of murder to the subtler ways of arranging "accidental" demises. Drownings, falls from great heights, bites and stings from venomous creatures, and even hypothermia could easily be used to kill without any evidence of outside influence. Sara knew how ruthless and unforgiving the cold could be and how fragile human life truly was. She knew the dangers.

So would Rip and Hunter say that the two patients would recover or would they say that Mick and Leonard were beyond saving?

Sara struck down that darker fear and squared her shoulders. They would be fine. Mick and Leonard would be all right and would recover. And any doubts would be brutally crushed. She wouldn't let herself consider anything else.

"Captain Lance?" prompted Gideon.

Sara brushed her palm against her face briefly, ignoring the wet sensation. She was still the captain. She needed to head back to the rest of the team. She needed to take care of the situation. She needed to be there when they delivered the news. The good news. She needed to be there for the team when they heard the good news.

It would be fine. There was hope. They would be fine.

She wouldn't lose anyone.

"Captain Lance?"

"I'm fine, Gideon," she said. "I'm on my way."

And so different members of the group are dealing with some of the fallout of Mick's actions. A lot has happened and changed for them in a fairly short period of time. And most of it is pretty hard to adapt to. Not to mention they are all people of action. They prefer doing things rather than sitting around and waiting for news.

But the next chapter should have some news on the condition of our two semi-frozen criminals. I'm sure you're looking forward to it.