Chapter Text
It feels different, somehow. Their home that isn’t really their home anymore. It’s been stripped bare, all elements of their collective personalities wiped away to make room for more efficiency, more competence in their jobs to protect the timeline, even if it wasn’t them.
The smell of Behrad’s cooking no longer lingers in the hallway. Nate’s copious history books don’t clutter the library floor. The random objects John stored anywhere he could, just gone.
It’s simply a blank canvas.
Lackluster.
Robotic.
It’s all Sara can notice as the Legends make their way to their rooms.
Well, the rooms that were once theirs.
Well, once their robot version’s.
Now, all that lay there were exact carbon copies of what the rooms should have been like, were like before a makeshift team of non-heroes changed and evolved into their own people, into a family.
A part of her dreaded walking into her and Ava’s room. All the carefully curated knick-knacks they had collected from various dates and missions or brought over from Ava’s apartment would be gone. Whilst realistically, it was just stuff, it wasn’t even expensive stuff at that, just mementoes and souvenirs, but it was stuff they had found together, memories encompassed into tiny objects that held so many stories about their lives together.
Robots have no need for stuff. A movie ticket from the first 1977 showing of Star Wars wasn’t necessary to protect the timeline, even though that very ticket had been signed by Mark Hamill himself. A genuine piece of Vesuvius rock that Sara may or may not have stolen when they went for a picnic in Pompeii wouldn’t be seen as an albeit unconventional gift, but an ‘inappropriate waste of resources’. Ava’s many serial killer books, the ones she had poured over for hours trying to analyse everything she could for Stab Cast, were useless to an AI.
Robots don’t need hobbies. They don’t need stuff.
Stuff is too human.
It’s sad really, Sara thought, almost like an end of an era. It was, in a way. The last time they were all on their Waverider, in their home, was before they were married. God, how long ago that seems. To her, it feels like they’ve been married for so long, it’s hard to imagine a time before she could call Ava her wife.
A thumb brushing the top of her hand brought Sara out of her musings. She looked to Ava’s face, no doubt lost in her own thoughts about their new home, and what they’ve lost to get it. Her eyes faced forward, unseeing, but instead saw the missing possessions, the missing feeling of home they had grown so accustomed to, just to be lost in a spilt second, blown to pieces as if those pieces meant nothing.
Sara looked at their joint hands and smiled as Ava’s thumb swirled nonsensical patterns on her skin. She’s trying to comfort me, she thought. Because that’s what Ava did. No matter what situation they were in, no matter how dire, how hopeless they felt, Ava always made sure to keep some form of physical contact with her wife.
She knew Sara craved physical touch whenever she was feeling overwhelmed and Ava’s presence had always acted as her anchor, even when she didn’t know the extent of it herself. From the very first time Ava reached over and placed her hand on her heart, she knew that this woman, this incredibly, frustratingly, caring woman, would hold her heart until its last beat.
She was ashamed at first. Ava didn’t deserve to see her nightmares, didn’t deserve to see just how broken Sara really was. Sure, she’d read her file, she knew everything that had happened to her, but to see the damage her past left behind first-hand was something else entirely. Something Sara thought would scare her off for good, long before anything between them could start properly.
That first night they spent together, bodies sated after hours of pleasure, it was her own death that haunted her dreams.
She watched as the arrows pierced the skin of her stomach. She felt the searing pain as strongly as she did the first time.
She felt the wind soaring past her head as she plummeted off the roof.
She watched the ground come closer and closer into view.
She couldn’t stop it. She just hoped it wasn’t going to hurt too much.
She wished it would be over quickly.
She wished Laurel wouldn’t be the one to find her.
She wished she didn’t have to put her parents through this again.
She closed her eyes, telling herself to be brave.
She waited for the impact.
But it never came. Instead, a warmth spread through her heart, easing the pain of the arrows until they were nothing but a dull throb that matched her heartbeat.
She startled awake, heart pounding, blood filling her ears as she reached down to her stomach, ready to pull the arrows out. Running her hands over her abs, she breathed out in relief, but something else caught her eye.
A hand rested over her heart.
Sara followed the long fingers up. She let the unfairly smooth skin and delicate veins guide her eyes to that face. That beautiful face that she had to come to care for so quickly that it scared her.
Ava was still asleep, breathing deeply, letting out the tiniest grunt at the end of each breath. Whilst she slept, she must have sensed Sara’s unease and tried to comfort her.
Ever since that moment, that night after their first date, Sara relished in Ava’s comfort. She allowed herself to feel that love, that urge to protect, to ease the pain she so often felt. She wanted to be close to Ava at every chance she got. Just her presence acted as a comfort to her. She wished she could wrap herself up in Ava’s body all day, to be able to live there and soak up all the love Ava gave freely.
Sara now has a lot in her life that she’s grateful for, but none more so than Ava’s love.
They shouldn’t work, an ex-assassin who for a time in her life couldn’t feel love, and a clone from the future who wasn’t programmed to feel anything at all.
But they do work. They conquered the odds stacked against them and haven’t looked back. They’re married now. They know they have a future together, saw actual video evidence of that future six weeks ago on this very ship.
And now, after their little discovery, that future has just started.
“Are you okay, babe?” Ava asked, thumb stopping the circles she was rubbing on Sara’s knuckle.
Sara looked up, realising she had been staring at their joint hands the whole time.
She smiled reassuringly and put her head on Ava’s shoulder, guiding them into their room.
“Yeah,” she said, “I was just thinking about us, about this place and how different it all feels.”
Ava hummed and pressed her lips against her head.
“I know, baby, I know. Maybe tomorrow it’ll feel better, God knows we could all do with a good night’s sleep.”
Sara hummed in agreement. They reached their room and Sara flung herself on the bed, trying to ignore the absence of their normal mountain of throw pillows.
“God I’ve missed this bed” Sara groaned face-down on the mattress. Ava chuckled and moved her legs aside. She sat down on the edge of their bed and pulled Sara’s legs into her lap, running her hand up and down her calves.
“You need to be careful, babe. I doubt landing face first will be good for the baby.”
The baby.
Just hearing that word is going to take some getting used to, let alone thinking about the actual baby currently growing inside Sara.
“Aves, the baby literally absorbed my powers, I think they’ll be fine.”
“I just worry-”
“Oh, really? That’s not like you.”
Ava swatted her thigh. Sara laughed and turned over, staring into her wife’s face. God, she’ll never get tired of that view. Her beautiful eyes that say so much, her nose, her jaw, her lips, all perfectly crafted. She’s the most beautiful woman Sara had ever seen.
“Okay, smartass, I’m going to go fabricate us some comfier clothes. I doubt the robot us had any use for hoodies or sweatpants.” Ava stood up, not before putting Sara’s legs carefully back on the bed with a single kiss to her knee.
Sara didn’t think she could fall more in love, but Ava had a habit of proving her wrong.
She took the time whilst Ava busied herself with fetching them some clothes to look around their now sparse room. It shouldn’t have affected her as much as it did, they mourned the loss of their processions somewhere between planning a circus and becoming the Bullet Blondes. They were just processions at the end of the day, and Ava had done a stellar job of filling their temporary retirement home with throw pillows and mementoes as close to their old things as possible.
Looking around the room, taking in the empty shelves, the bare walls, the overwhelming absence of them, makes Sara think back to when she first joined the team all those years ago. The room looked the same as this, void of feeling, of personality, of any notion that she planned to stay any longer than Rip’s mission entailed.
How wrong she was, thinking she could just leave this life behind. Look what it got her, after everything.
Even after staying on the Waverider, her room stayed in a similar sparse state. Functionality was the most important thing, not silly little trinkets and collectables. Even when she was upgraded to the Captains Quarters, simplicity was best. She tried to tell herself it was better this way. Her life had been turbulent at best for the better part of a decade, and she learned not to put down roots too quickly, with the risk of being uprooted ever-present in her mind.
It wasn’t until Ava came along that she realised the odd root wouldn’t hurt. It started with a Time Bureau issued blazer being left thrown over the single chair Sara kept in the corner of her room.
Then shoes.
And underwear.
And non-work appropriate T shirts.
Soon enough, half of Ava’s wardrobe was filling the gaps in Sara’s own, and when she finally presented Ava with her own toothbrush to keep next to hers, Sara decided that putting down roots wasn’t as scary as she thought, especially when Ava rewarded her with the best sex of her life.
From that moment on, Sara’s room was no longer just a space to sleep and change, but a place to consider her home.
But it wasn’t the items that made it a home. It wasn’t the décor Ava had brought over from her own apartment, or the many, many throw pillows Ava said they needed because ‘they make the bed look finished, Sara,’ or even the picture frames dotted around the space, filling it up with their smiling faces and the love in their eyes.
No.
It was Ava. Ava made it a home.
Looking around the room now, she didn’t feel that loss quite so hard. As long as Ava was by her side, she was home.
Now though, home wasn’t just her and Ava anymore. Sara smiles as she puts her hand on her stomach, watching as it moves up and down in time with her breathing.
Home was the whole other person Sara was growing inside her.
“You’re going to be so loved, sweetheart.” Sara whispered into the quiet room, closing her eyes as a content smile stretched across her face. The hum of the ship carried the words out of the door just as Ava returned with the clothes folded in her arms.
It took her breath away, the sight of her wife cradling their child in her belly, looking so happy. She had to stop walking, to truly take in the scene in front of her, tears immediately filling her eyes.
She composed herself and she walked further into their room.
“You okay babe?” Sara asked, eyes still closed.
“Yeah, babe, I’m good. Here, get changed so we can go to bed. I don’t know about you but I’m about ten seconds away from passing out.”
Sara whined as Ava helped her up. They got changed into the comfy clothes and returned to bed. Sara immediately pushed Ava onto her back and curled into her side, head resting on her chest.
Ava used one hand to play with her hair, the other wrapped around her back to rest on her waist.
“I can’t believe we’re back,” Ava said, lightly scratching Sara’s scalp, “for a moment there I thought we’d never get back home.”
“No matter where we end up, whether it be stuck in the 20s or back in the present, we’ll always have a home if we have each other, I promise.” Sara said. Ava pressed a kiss to her head.
“Of course, my love, but it’s nice to be back. Especially in this bed. God, I missed this bed.”
Sara chuckles at her wife’s dramatics. They lie in silence for a minute, listening to the familiar hum of the ship lulling them to sleep. Ava’s hand running through Sara’s curls starts to slow as her breathing begins to grow heavier.
“Sleep now, babe. Might as well get all we can now before the baby arrives.” Sara says as she nuzzles down further into Ava’s chest, ready to succumb to her body’s tiredness. Ava takes a deep breath, her hand tightening on Sara’s hip.
“I can’t believe we’re going to be moms.” She whispered.
Ava shuffles their positions, ignoring Sara grunt of disapproval at being moved from her very comfortable spot on her chest.
She moves them until she’s spooning Sara, arms circling her body and resting her hand on her stomach. It was Sara’s turn to take a deep breath, trying to keep the sudden burst of love she felt for the woman behind her under control. She had a feeling this was going to be a position they found themselves in quite regularly from now on. Ava surrounding her, keeping her and their baby safe from everything the world could possibly throw at them.
She rests her hand on top of Ava’s, both holding the new life they created together.
“There’s a little baby in there, Sara. Like, a baby, baby. You’re growing an actual person.” Ava said breathlessly, like she didn’t believe the words she was saying.
“Hold your horses babe, we don’t know what this baby will come out like. For all we know, it might be full alien.” Sara said.
“I don’t care,” Ava said, kissing Sara’s cheek, “however they come out, they will be perfect. Because they’re ours. We made this baby, and they’re going to be perfect.”
Ava runs her thumb over Sara’s belly, knowing full well it’s far too early for anything of their baby to be formed yet, but hoping they can feel the love she has for them already.
“I promise you now, Sara, I will try my absolute hardest to be best mother I can be for our child.” Ava said quietly into Sara’s ear. These words were for her and their baby only, safe within the four walls of their room.
“I promise, even when I screw up and begin to doubt myself, I promise I’ll try not to let my insecurities get in the way of our family. I want to be a good mom, and a good wife to you. I know I haven’t had any experiences with this kind of thing, other than making sure our other adult children don’t die, and a weird father type figure who made thousands of me but that’s beside the point.” She chuckles, her thumb rubbing back and forth in a soothing rhythm.
“I promise you now, there won’t be a day that goes by where you or our child don’t know that you’re loved, and there won’t be a moment where I’m not there for you both. You mean everything to me, Sara, you and our baby, and I’m so thankful I get to have both of you forever.”
Sara sniffs, trying and failing, to hide the fact she’s crying. She brings their joint hands from her stomach to her mouth, kissing the back of Ava’s hand and holding it to her heart.
“I love you.” She whispers.
Ava kisses her neck, there’s no heat to it, just pure, unbridled intimacy that Sara feared she’d never be good enough to receive.
“I’m terrified, but in the most excited way possible, does that make sense?” Sara asked as Ava removed her hand from her chest, content to run her thumb over Sara’s stomach once again, the action bringing comfort to them both.
“It does. I feel it too. But we’re gonna be the best moms ever, do you know why?” Ava asked. Sara shook her head.
“Because I’m going to make a binder so thorough there won’t be anything we don’t know by the time the baby arrives.”
Sara laughs, harder than she has in a long while, a few tears leaking out as well. How lucky she was that this wonderful, loving, caring woman chose her to spend her life with and have a family.
“I don’t doubt you for a second, baby.”
They fall into a calm silence. Ava’s thumb slows in its patterns across Sara’s stomach, her breath becoming heavier in her ear until she finally succumbs to sleep.
Sara glances down for the final time that night, watching as her wife falls into a deep sleep whilst cradling their child, already protecting them from the world, making sure they’re safe and here.
Sara decides then and there, if she had to go through every moment of her life again to get to this moment, from the Gambit to the League to dying so many times she’s lost count, if it ends the same way, her lying in her wife’s arms while she holds her and their child, then she would without question.
Because, as she drifts off herself, her hand resting over Ava’s, she was always meant to end up in this moment.
She’s home.