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Ray woke with a start, and the first thing he felt was movement. He was moving. He had never been so happy in his whole life, he had fixed it, they were moving, until he saw who was standing in front of him. Then it all came crashing back. George Washington, the aberrations, Sara, no Sara.
Sara was standing in front of him… wearing an eye patch. “Sara?” he managed to choke out.
“Those stun guns aren't fun. I'm sorry. I wanted to avoid a long conversation. You need to get up, though. We'll be in Cairo shortly.”
Ray quickly got up. He had to make her see. “Sara Lance. Sara Lance from Starling City, please, listen to me. I know it seems impossible, but you know me. In another version of reality you and I were best friends. We,” he continued, standing up and grabbing hold of the first thing he could find on her desk, “We travelled together. We had adventures. Sara Lance, you died and came back. You can see what others can't. You can remember things that never happened. And if you try, if you really, really try, you'll be able to-“
Sara was giving him the look. The one that was usual reserved for the words “Ray, you’re an idiot.” He looked down at his hand, and realized he was gesturing with a model of the Waverider.
“Oh.” He glanced at the back of the wall. Sketches adorned them, sketches of everything; Vandal Savage, the Hawks, the Lazarus Pit, the 50s, every adventure they’d been on.
She looked at him and frowned. “You look like garbage.”
“You look wonderful,” he said, grinning in a way that made her resolve break.
She sighed into a comfortable smile. “So do you. But don’t worry, I can fix that.” She grinned and help up a miniaturized ATOM suit.
“Awesome!”
+
“Okay, you can turn around now! How do I look?” asked Ray, doing a little twirl.
“Like shit.”
“Well that’s not very nice!” She began to laugh at him, and it was good to know that some things didn’t change. “Your office is cool. Are you in charge? Why are you wearing an eye patch?”
Sara sighed. “It’s not an eye patch. Time’s fucked up, and a few of us are trying to fix it.”
“And you get an office!” Ray said animatedly. “An office on a train! I used to have an office, but I’ve never had a train. Or an office on a train.”
He was shocked to find himself being hugged. “I missed you, you dumbass,” she said into his shoulder.
“Okay! Hugging and missing. Where’s the British one?”
She quickly pulled back. “You mean Rip. My husband, Rip?” she walked over to her desk and pulled out a piece of paper. She handed it to Ray, seeming to have sketched Oliver Queen on it. “That’s him, isn’t it? I have no fucking clue. I don’t know where he is, but I love him a lot, don’t I?”
Ray chuckled. “Apparently.”
“I have to keep doing this, writing and drawing things. It’s getting really hard to remember.”
“It’s not your fault,” Ray said more somberly, “Time’s messed up. Do you remember why?”
Sara looked very concentrated. “The lakeside,” she finally decided.
Ray nodded. “Lake Silencio, Utah. I died.”
Sara looked confused. “But then you didn’t. I remember it twice, two different ways.”
“Two different versions of the same event, both happening at the same moment. Time split wide open. Now look at it. All of history happening all at once.”
“But does it matter? Can’t we stay like this?”
Ray shook his head. “Time isn’t just frozen,” he said, trying to sound calm. “It’s, well, it’s disintegrating. It’s going to spread, and then all of reality will fall apart.”
It was at that moment he heard a familiar voice from the doorway. “Ma’am? We’re about to arrived.” He grinned and turned, only to see none other than Rip Hunter. “Eye drives need to be activated as soon as we disembark.”
“Good point,” said Sara, “Thank you Captain Hunter.”
Ray smiled even wider. “Hello!” he said, waving enthusiastically.
“Hello, sir,” said Rip. “Pleased to meet you.”
Sara smiled. “Captain Hunter, best of the best. I’d be fucking dead without him.”
Ray held up the sketch he was holding in his hand. He laughed. Yeah, that sketch definitely looked like Oliver Queen. “No,” he said chuckling, as Rip left the room.
Sara looked at him quizzically. “What’s wrong?”
“You’ll find your Rip,” said Ray, “You always do. But you have to really look.”
“But I am looking!” Sara announced, seeming frustrated.
He couldn’t help laughing again. “Ah, Sara Lance. You don’t always look hard enough.”
She ran a hand through his hair, noticing some of the gray strands that had started to pop up. “Why are you older? If time isn’t really passing,” she asked, “Then why are you aging?”
“Time is still passing for me,” he responded, “Every explosions has an epicenter. I’m it. I’m what’s wrong.”
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.
He sighed. “I’m still alive.”
+
“You have to put it on sir.”
Ray gave an exasperated sigh, shooting a pointed look at Rip. “An eye patch. What is it even for?”
Sara rolled her eyes. “For the last fucking time Ray, it’s not an eye patch.”
“it’s an eye drive sir,” interrupted Rip, looking cautiously at the tension between the two. “It communicates directly with the memory centers of the brain. Acts as external storage.”
Sara nodded in agreement. “It’s the only thing that works against them.”
Ray gave Rip a confused look. “The Aberrations,” he clarified, gesturing to the creatures in the tanks around them. “We’ve captured over a hundred of them now, all kept in this pyramid.”
Ray glanced around, his expression both fascinated and grim. “Yeah, I’ve seen these guys before,” he noted, “Always wondered what they looked like.”
“Well put the fucking eye drive on and you’ll remember for as long as you’re wearing it.”
“The Aberrations have humans servants,” Ray warned, “They all wear these.”
Sara snorted. “They’d have to,” she said, “Now put it the fuck on.” Ray rolled his eyes and obliged.
“This way,” Rip announced, leading them down a long corridor. Taking a look around, he began to look concerned. “They seem to be noticing you.”
Ray sighed. “Yeah, they would.”
Sara glanced at Rip nervously, and then leaned in to whisper to Ray. “So why aren’t humans killing Aberrations on sight any more?”
“That’s a different reality,” Ray whispered back. More loudly, he asked, “What are the tanks for?”
“They can draw electricity from anything,” responded Rip, “That’s how they attack. The fluid insulates them. And I really don’t like the way they’re looking at you.”
“Yeah,” Ray nervously laughed, “Me neither!”
Rip turned to Sara. “Ma’am,” he said, “I’m sure it’s nothing, but I should really check this out. They haven’t been this active in a while.” He turned away and began giving various orders to other soldier. He then turned back to Sara. “You o ahead, Ma’am.”
“Thank you, Captain Hunter.”
Ray smiled and tapped her on the shoulder. “Captain Hunter, nice guy. What’s his first name?”
Sara looked back it him, clearly not understanding. “Just captain. Through here.” She grabbed on to his sleeve and began pulling him along.
“Just give us a moment,” he pleaded with her, “I just need to check something Ma’am.” She rolled her eyes and released him. She then began to whisper something into the microphone on her shirt.
“The loyal soldier,” he muttered, staring at Rip, ‘Waiting to be noticed. Always the pattern. Why is that?”
“Sorry, sir?” Ray jumped. He hadn’t realized that Rip could hear him.
“Your boss, you should just ask her out,” said Ray, with minimal levels of confidence. “She likes you. She told me so!”
“Really, sir,” Rip responded, never one to be tricked, “What did she say?”
“I mean,” said Ray, flailing his arms about, “She just kind of indicated.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“She said that you were a hottie with a body,” he said, recalling a line from one of the 90s movies Sara had made him watch, “And she wants to go out with you, for texting and coffee?”
Rip looked at Ray, almost amused. “You haven’t done this a lot before, have you?”
“No,” Ray admitted, hanging his head a little, “I haven’t.” Rip chuckled, making Ray perk up, there was reason to be hopeful that his Lances would end up together, but the next thing he knew he was being dragged into a room, looking at the back of his best friend. “Hi, honey,” he said, “I’m home!”
Felicity Smoak turned around to face him. “And what kind of a time do you call this, Palmer?”