Chapter Text
Now he’s stronger than you know
A heart of steel starts to grow
(“Superheroes,” The Script)
“Are you sure I need to wear this?” Sara stares into the mirror, inspecting the white domino mask that covers part of her face. It’s simple and fits perfectly, just like her White Canary outfit, but she hasn’t worn a mask since…well, before she died. The first time.
Len appears besides her, and they both regard their reflections. He’s in his full uniform, the one he’d been wearing way back when they’d found him, the sleeveless black jumpsuit and the white and blue hooded, sleeveless jacket over it. He also has a metallic blue mask much like her white one, and two pairs of blue eyes met in the mirror in silent understanding.
“You can do away with it if you want,” Len tells her, earning a yelp of protest from Cisco Ramon, who’d designed said mask and is waiting nearby for the right moment to use his breaching talents and send them over to Len’s Earth. “But just because I’m not aware of a doppelgänger of you on my Earth doesn’t mean there isn’t one. And if she’s a civilian…”
“Yeah. Let’s not mess things up for her. If she exists.” Sara eyes him. “People pay that much attention?”
“Oh, hell yeah.” Len steps away from the mirror with a sigh. “Especially with the Justice League, there are people who devote waaayyyy too much time and effort to following the usual slate of heroes. Blogs, social media, the whole nine yards. They see a newcomer, ‘specially one as…ah, notable as you, your pic’s gonna end up out there.”
He shrugs, adjusting his own mask. “It draws attention, but it’s protective coloration, in a way. People don’t look past the outfit. And once you’ve…hmm…changed your narrative, people tend to buy into it. They look at you as a story, not a person.”
He sounds almost unsettled, despite the assurances, and Sara draws closer again, thinking about what she knows about his life on his Earth.
“Aw, Len, do you have Cold groupies?” she teases gently, trying to draw him out of the mood. “Girls wearing goggles and trying to take selfies with you?”
That earns her a smirk. “And guys,” he drawls. “I’m an equal opportunity hero.”
Sara snorts. “I bet.”
“All right, people.” They’re interrupted by Wells, who strides into the room with Caitlin and Barry. “We’re good to go here. Mr. Snart? Let me fill you in on these.”
Len sets his shoulders and turns to face the trio as Cisco moves over to join them. Sara, turning with him, studies them too.
Caitlin winks at her, but Wells is already proceeding, reaching into his pocket to pull out…an ordinary pharmaceutical bottle.
Len frowns at it. “This is…”
“I told you we were working on using nanites to target the alien—by which I mean, strange, not extraterrestrial—parts of the DNA,” Caitlin tells him.
“The tech is in these capsules.” Wells gives the bottle a shake. It rattles. “They just need to swallow one. It will take a little time—not too long, but not immediate—and there may be unpleasant side effects while it works, but it will work.”
Len stares at the bottle, then lets out a gusty sigh, reaching out to take it with a muttered and fervent “thank you.” Wells lets go, an understanding look very briefly flickering over his face as he nods.
“There are three in there,” he tells Len. “I know you said you didn’t want one. But…just in case.”
Len regards the bottle another moment, then nods, pocketing it. Then he glances at Sara. “So. I guess it’s time to go.”
Sara nods, turning to look around, as if the team had somehow managed to sneak in behind them. “It seems weird not to have the others here. I thought they’d…well.”
She’d actually declared a vacation for the Legends while they’d waited for Wells and Caitlin to work out the puzzle, and the team had scattered, at least somewhat. (Sara and Len had mostly stayed on the ship, except for working with Team Flash and meeting up with Sara’s mother, which had been memorable.) Sara knows that Ray and Nate had gone back to Star City for at least a few days, and Jax and Martin are with their families here. Mick and Amaya had hung around with Len and Sara, for a bit—Sara, amused, doesn’t mention the words “double-date”—but they’ve vanished too.
She hoped they’d be back in time for this. She’d called the team’s phones, with no luck, but they hadn’t had a ton of notice, and there’s no point in waiting. Still…
“Boss!”
Both Sara and Len turn, then give each other wry smiles as they notice the other’s reaction. Then they watch Mick as he saunters into the room, Amaya with him.
“Were you talking to me or him?” Sara asks her unofficial second with amusement as he stops in front of her.
“Yes.” Mick smirks at her, then looks at Len. “Sorry. Rest of the team, they didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. So. Said I’d, uh…what’d Haircut say? Yeah, ‘convey their well-wishes.” He nods, looking satisfied, then glancing at Amaya and back at Len.
“Won’t say ‘be careful,’ ‘cause I know you won’t, but…” He hesitates. “Eh. Don’t let me…him…oh hell, whatever, you get it. Don’t let him shove you around. From what you said, he’s pretty much me at a… certain part of my life. Angry at the world.” He glances at Amaya again. “Doesn’t know there’s…more. Doesn’t think it’s for him if he does. Hope you can tell ‘im otherwise.”
It’s incredibly eloquent for Mick, who Len knows struggles with words sometimes even though he’s far smarter than most people give him credit for. He nods, then reaches out to grasp the other man’s arm, a brief gesture that’s still a departure for them. Micks nods back, once, then turns to Sara.
Len eyes Amaya, who smiles back at him. He likes her, this woman out of time, though he’s neglected to tell her that he’s also met (and flirted with) her granddaughter from his Earth.
“Godspeed,” she tells him. “And come back soon and safe.”
“We’ll do our best.”
Mick and Sara have now finished saying whatever they had to say to each other, and Sara and Len lock eyes, then turn, taking in the sight of the bemused Team Flash watching them all.
“This,” Cisco breathes, “is weird.”
Barry’s grinning, though. “You guys be safe,” he adds. “Say hi to my doppelgänger.”
“He ain’t much like you. But if I see him…” Len’s more likely to snark and sass, and they both know it. “Well. Something like that.”
Cisco claps his hands together briskly then. “OK, well, as utterly bizarre—and weirdly entertaining--as it is to witness all these…feelings…from people who once tried to kill me, sort of, I think it’s time to get this show on the road. Ready?”
“Sorry, Nerd Boy,” Mick rumbles at him, even at Len and Sara glance at each other again.
“Let’s go,” Len says with a sigh, then scans the room. “Ah. I don’t…I’m not…just…” He shrugs again. “Thank you all.”
Among the murmured chorus of “welcomes,” Cisco raises his hands and the air…splits.
“I’ll open it again in 12 hours,” he tells them. “And then every hour on the hour after until it hits a full day.”
“After that,” Mick informs them then, arms crossed and an expression that says he won’t be countermanded on this, not by either “boss,” “we come looking for you.”
Sara and Len exchange a look—presumably both imaging the kind of chaos that could cause—but don’t argue. If it goes that long, Len knows, they’ll need the help.
When the breach is big enough to admit two people, Cisco nods to them, and Len takes a deep breath, looking at Sara. He thinks about reaching out to take her hand, but something stops him. It’s one thing to kiss her in front of the massed teams here, but he doesn’t know precisely where they’ll be breaching into on his Earth, and he doesn’t want to make her a target…
So, instead, he just nods to her, and heads for the breach, not looking back.
The first thing Sara thinks about Len’s Earth is that the light looks different. The light and the colors; they seem somehow brighter, and for the first few minutes, everything seems a little…flat. But she blinks and it’s back to her normal, and her eyes quickly grow accustomed to the light.
They’ve emerged in what seems to be an ordinary alley, and there’s no one else around. Sara glances at Len and sees him staring up at the sky, just visible through the taller buildings around them.
As if feeling her gaze upon him, the man in question lowers his own gaze and regards her. He looks unsettled…a strange mix of glad and worried. Sara holds the gaze, trying to convey support, then speaks.
“Do you have any idea where we are?” she asks quietly.
Len visibly shakes his distraction off. “Not precisely. Will, though. All I need is a better look.” He squares his shoulders, then heads for the place where the alley opens to the street. Sara follows.
Not so far from city center. It seems vaguely odd to just about see the city map unfolding in his head, given that the other Central City is different in so many ways big and small, and Len takes a deep breath, reminding himself that although so many things about this place feel like home, he’s leaving. He’s going back to Sara’s Earth. He’s…
He’s home?
It’s in his blood and his bones, apparently, and won’t be shaken as easily as he’d thought. Len takes another deep and shaky breath, hoping Sara doesn’t notice (let’s be honest, Sara almost certainly notices) and bends his brain to their best plan of attack.
Not that they’ll attack. They’ll almost certainly be defending.
Oh, holy hell, he doesn’t want to face Lisa.
“We’re actually in the right quadrant of the city,” he tells Sara, who’s studying her surroundings with an intent expression and letting him struggle with his thoughts. “Up for a walk? I’m sure my bike is long gone anyway and though we could take public transportation, I’d rather not deal with the hassle.”
Sara’s lips twitch as if at the thought. “Certainly. We should probably check the date.” She hesitates, studying him. “Cisco did say time runs differently on some Earths.”
He’s been trying not to think about that. Ramon had also said he didn’t think this was one of them, but…
“We’ll find a newsstand. Otherwise, best to stick to the back streets, the alleys…”
“The rooftops?” Sara’s voice is wry. She knows he’s not fond of heights, and they’ve squabbled good-naturedly about the value of the heights for either heroes or villains…or Rogues.
“Yeah, yeah.” Len takes another deep breath and nods. “OK, if we somehow get separated…get directions for the intersection of Samuel Street and James Place. There’s a diner there called the Ice Box; I’ll find you.”
“Let’s go.”
A newspaper honor box gives them proof that time here runs just the same as time back on Earth-1. Sara can see Len sigh in relief as he scans the headlines, then glance at her before turning away.
She’s pretty sure he’s finding it more difficult to reconcile his feelings about being back here with his desire to leave than he expected. She gets it, really. Like her and Nanda Parbat, sometimes a place calls to you even though you know it’s not the best thing for you, especially when it was home for years.
She just hopes he doesn’t have second thoughts.
It’s a little surreal to see Len stalking along in his full Earth-52 Captain Cold get-up, but he’d been completely correct. People turn to watch him—them—go, some pulling out cell phones and snapping photos, talking eagerly, loudly enough that Sara can hear their surprise and excitement, if not the precise words beyond “Captain Cold”… and “woman in white.”
She’s an unknown quantity—and probably a valuable one in the currency of information. She ignores the peanut gallery, staying at Len’s side, and eventually he looks at her with a speaking glance, one she returns in understanding.
Time to go underground—figuratively, anyway.
In unison, they both turn off the main roadway into an alleyway, Len leading the way around a corner before their interested audience can follow. He ducks into an alcove with Sara at his heels, and they wait there for a few moments to shake any civilian pursuers before Len steps back out and over to a door across the way.
Well, he can pick locks just as well as Earth-1 Snart. Sara smirks as Len eases the door open in the span of a minute, then follows him into the dark space within, scanning the room as he shuts and locks the door behind them.
Abandoned office building, she guesses. The windows are boarded up, but the dark shapes of desks are still visible in the gloom, a classic cubicle farm redolent of boredom and irritation.
“Len,” she whispers. “What’s up with the ‘Office Space’ set here?”
He sighs, eyeing her as he turns away from the door. “To the right,” is all he says. “Up the stairs.”
“Ahhhh. Rooftops after all.”
“Something like.”
Precisely like, actually. Len’s no roof-runner, not like some heroes he knows, but he also knows the value of changing up their location—whether or not he’ll admit that to Sara since it became a sort of longstanding joke between them.
Not long later, they emerge on the top of the building. Len relocks the door behind them and leads Sara toward the edge. Fortunately for him, though, the buildings in this particular block are so close together that there’s no leaping from site to site…just a bit of climbing and careful navigation. They traverse that set of buildings, then move kitty-corner to another, continuing for another bit until Len drops onto a fire escape, making his way toward the ground.
It’s not nearly so nice an area now. They’re more on the outskirts of the city, not so far from a mostly defunct industrial complex near the river, a complex gradually abandoned as water traffic became less important to the movement of goods throughout the country. Although it’s nearing noon now, there aren’t many people around, and the ones that are minding their own business.
It’s just that kind of area.
Len looks swiftly around once he alights, then ducks over to hug the wall, walking quickly toward the industrial area. Sara is at his heels, and he knows she’s watching his back as he skirts the complex, gradually moving inward, building to building, following the map in his memory.
If they’ve abandoned this safehouse/base…well, Len has more options in mind, a mental list of places he himself set up over the years. He’s relatively sure Mick and Lisa would stick together, united in their challenges—and their hatred of him.
And beyond that, he knows them well enough that he can, he thinks, put together the puzzle and track them down, especially if he deigns to ask for help. But that will take longer, and Sara needs to go back to her Earth and her home, and he…he doesn’t really want to be without her, even briefly.
Startling thought. They’re not joined at the hip, or anything. That's silly. But together, they’re stronger, better, more balanced, a team within a team in so many aspects. Enough so that's he even speculated on...well, seeing if she'd like to formalize that partnership someday, which is even more startling a thought.
But there's no time for such thoughts now. They're approaching the warehouse/safehouse he's deemed the most likely to be Lisa and Mick's base. And the greeting is not likely to be friendly.
Sara can feel the rising tension in Len as they move farther into the complex. Well…it’s understandable, and frankly, she’s not immune. This Earth’s Mick Rory and Lisa Snart have some truly scary abilities, and they won’t look kindly on Len or, she’s pretty sure, anyone with him. At least, not until he tells them his news.
Maybe not even then. Sara might not have a college degree, but she’s been around enough to learn a thing or two about human nature.
The area is deserted, now, silent except for the faint sweep of the breeze and the cries of gulls and sounds of boat engines from the waterfront not so far away. Sara can smell water both moving and standing, that indefinable mix of something crisp and fresh and something ever so slightly rotten, and the whiff of oil and other industrial material once used here. The colors around her flicker and go flat, bright, again briefly as she tails Len through the light and shadow, and she shakes her head, frowning.
After pausing in the shadow of the entry to another cluster of buildings, Len sighs nearly inaudibly and glances at her. He doesn’t have to speak aloud to tell her they may be close. High alert.
Sara nods. They’ve discussed plans already, but they both know that plans rarely survive the first engagement with the…the enemy.
She watches his back as Len pops the massive lock on a door fairly easily (while shaking his head in disapproval) and follows as he moves silently into the building, closing the heavy door behind them. The doorway isn’t the main entry to whatever business had once been housed here, just a rear entrance that leads to what seems to be a small receiving room, and the windows are boarded up, leaving the space in shadow.
But…Sara takes a breath, then a deeper one. There’s not as much dust in the air as she’d think.
Len studies the room but ignores the two closed doors that seems to lead deeper into the complex on this floor. Instead, he steps toward one labeled as a stairwell, looking back to catch Sara’s eye.
She’s in this for better or worse. She nods back, falling into step with him, as they quietly head through the door and then downward, stepping carefully on the dark stairs.
The stairwell goes down two flights, and Len ignores the doorway at the first sublevel and carefully opens the door at the second. The space is now truly dark. Sara’s eyes have become accustomed to the darkness, but it’s still hard to see and she’s not comfortable with the lack of information. She pauses a moment, watching Len, trying to convey that.
He pauses, too, then breathes, “Gotta pass through one more space before I can hit some lights—used to be a cubicle farm for some of the office types. No windows equals less distraction, I guess.” He shakes his head. “And people wonder why I became a crook.”
Sara smirks as she studies him, then nods. Len pushes open the door, and they step through.
It’s not the maze of desks and dividers she expects, though. She gets the impression of a large open space without much cluttering it, even darker than she expected. Len takes another step, then stops.
“Different,” he mutters, and Sara can hear the frown in his voice. He takes another step, then another, and Sara moves closer so they can watch each other’s backs. She draws in a breath, frowning too, then another, swearing she smells the faintest trace of cooking meat.
And a whiff of…
Smoke.
Everything happens at once, then, in the roar of flame and the crackle of ice. Sara gets one good look at this Earth’s Mick Rory as the flames surge and Len steps up, raising his hands to send a responding wave of ice to meet them—but then she drops to the ground and rolls away as the men start yelling at each other, indistinct profanity and deprecations from Mick, attempts at explanation from Len.
Len can handle himself. But if Mick’s here, there’s likely to be someone else as well, and someone needs to watch for her or this whole thing might end quickly, and very badly indeed.
As fire meets ice, steam roils out, and the room gets even harder to see in than before. Sara, glad for her newer boots (which offer improved footing on more than just ice), moves farther away from the elemental battle, listening intently, shaking her collapsed bo out of her sleeve, extending it and then separating it into the two shorter staffs.
Then she closes her eyes, holds her breath and…
There.
Sara ducks, whirls, and brings up a staff to block rather than attack. The steamy air churns around her, and she hears, under everything, a whisper of female laughter, a sound that’s, well, none too sane.
Is there a way of getting through? Sara takes another deep breath, putting her back toward the wall again, lowering the staff a little.
“Lisa,” she says in an intense tone, pitching her voice to be heard even through the chaos. “We’re here to help you. Your brother…he…”
But those words are apparently not the right ones. The whisper of laughter rises into a howl of anger, and Sara ducks and whirls and moves again, blocking, and this time there’s a metallic noise as something connects with her staff.
There are words, in the howl. They might be: “He did this!” They might not.
Sara responds, however, like they were. “He didn’t mean what happened!’ she cries, moving into a guard position again. “He screwed up. Big time. But he’s been looking and looking for a way to help you and…”
Duck, move, block.
“…and we have one. We have one, Lisa. We can help.”
But then the noises behind her change, the rush of ice and the rage of fire muting, and it’s a stupid move, a rookie move, but Sara glances back to make sure Len’s OK, then back in the fraction of a second, long enough for a hand to emerge from the seething, fading steam, heading straight for her.
And then Len’s there, in front of her, and the golden fingers stop a millimeter, no more, from his face. Their owner steps forward.
And Sara gets her first clear look at what’s become of Lisa Snart.
Who calls herself, now and on this Earth, Lady Midas.