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1.
“That looks like the sign of a good time.” Leonard commented drily as he leaned against the grill of the wall by Sara’s door. He hadn’t known exactly which room she had claimed as her own, but after catching her throwing knives into the side of crates in the cargo bay, he assumed she would want to be near her makeshift training centre.
Sara glanced up from where she had been inspecting the bruised knuckles of her right hand. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of him; she wasn’t quite sure what to make of this crook who seemed to have taken to following her around the ship. Sure, he held his own in a bar fight and she couldn’t deny having a bit of a flirt over their beers, but as far as trust went there was none between them.
“One of those glam rockers back at the bar accessorized with a lot of studs.” She waved off his – not concern exactly, more like interest – casually. “Caught my fist on them a couple of times. His fault, really. He should have gone down the first time.”
Leonard raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you should have hit harder.”
Sara regarded him coolly. “Listen, crook. I know what I’m doing. This has been my thing for a while now. I won’t tell you how to steal or plan heists or whatever it is you do. You don’t tell me how to take someone down. Okay?”
“Sure.” Leonard replied easily, seemingly unfazed by her anger. He pushed off the wall. “You know, I hear the med bay is pretty well stocked on this boat. Lots of future tech.”
She blinked at him blankly. “I don’t even want to know how you know that.”
“You think my first instinct wasn’t to case this entire hunk of tin?” He pointed out. “Anyway, med bay is down the corridor. If you want to get that hand sorted.”
Sara eyed him suspiciously. Her knuckles were throbbing and she really should keep herself in the best condition possible. Who knew what this weird ‘adventure’ was going to throw at her next? She was responsible for not only herself now, but a whole host of people – she refused to be the reason their mission failed because she hadn’t kept herself in prime physical condition. If there was something onboard that could help, she really owed it to herself and the bunch of misfits she would be fighting alongside to take the opportunity.
“Thanks.” She acknowledged cautiously.
Leonard smirked, nodded then turned on his heel to head in the opposite direction.
Sara watched him retreat curiously. She’d definitely have to keep an eye on that Captain Cold.
2.
Sara hissed through her teeth as she tried to pull her arm out of the sleeve of her shirt in the med bay. The material stuck to the burn, tugging at the damaged skin. Her face contorted in pain as she bit down hard on her lip to hold in a whimper, refusing to give in to the agony, much less one delivered to her by the hands of Mick Rory, that son of a bitch.
Her eyes snapped open as booted footsteps approached her. She took in the sight of Leonard Snart, face carefully blank. Without a word, he picked up the medical scissors, stopping in front of her with questioning eyes.
Silently, Sara tilted her head forward in a small nod, shifting her shoulder forward slightly to help him access her arm.
Leonard, with the gentleness that only came from patching up the scrapes of a young sister, carefully raised the smouldering material of her red top away from the raw skin beneath it. With his other hand, he took the scissors, slicing the sleeve with extreme care. He traced the outline of the burn with the scissors, cutting away the shirt until the injured area was completely uncovered.
“He won’t be able to hurt you again.” He said shortly after he had pulled the last of the offending fabric away.
Sara pressed her lips together. “Snart-“ She began, but he’d already turned and left the med bay. She sighed, hoping that whatever guilt he was holding onto from killing Mick would heal as easily as this burn would once Gideon got a look at it.
Unfortunately, she knew it wouldn’t.
3.
The 1950s hadn’t been the most riveting time for flashy technology, even less so holed away with the mountains of Nanda Parbat. Seeing the Waverider, with all its bright lights and pulsing gizmos, made Sara feel nautious, an uneasy feeling churning in her stomach as she tried to recall the route to her room. Everything felt like a distant memory, snatches of a dream, like she’d read it once in a book and never actually believed it to be real. The two years she spent with the League felt more like a lifetime; apparently this was a common mumbo-jumbo names term according to Rip, but at the time it had felt more real than her time travelling escapades had.
She stumbled into a room that she had been convinced was hers, only to be greeted by what she could only assume was medical equipment. Whereas the hospital she had briefly spent time in during the 50s had been rickety, with shelves of labelled pills neatly displayed in every necessary room, this place was shining silver with complicated wiring running towards two raised chairs, one of which was occupied by none other than Leonard Snart. A cuff was locked in place over his wrist with a blue light scanning back and forth over the newly formed fingers of his right hand.
Sara’s eyes widened in amazement as she stared at the device.
“Last minute tweaks. Gideon wanted to be sure she had my bone structure completely correct.” Leonard said, breaking the silence that had settled.
At the sound of his voice, Sara started, reaching for the knife that was hanging at her waist before forcing herself to relax. She took a deep breath and purposefully unclenched her fist.
Leonard watched the internal debate rage in Sara’s head curiously. For him, it had been less than a day since he saw his favourite assassin (granted, she was currently the only assassin he knew) but Sara had built an entirely different life in the time she’d been away from the Waverider. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the stern set of her face, but something else was different too. The signs of being under the control of a leader for a long time were evident in her posture, but behind her eyes there was no fire as there used to be, no wild flame that had set him on edge yet intrigued him all at once. Something had changed in Sara during her time with the League.
“Did it hurt?” She asked after another moment.
“Like a bitch.”
Sara’s lips quirked up at his candidness, surprising both him and evidently herself as the expression immediately dropped from her face as though it had burned her.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” She said shortly, before whirling around and leaving the med bay as fast as she had entered.
Part of Leonard wanted to follow her, try crack what was different about this slightly older Sara. He wondered if he’d still be able to convince her into a game of cards with him later, if only to test the dexterity of his new hand when slipping aces from up his sleeve. But Gideon wasn’t done fixing him up, so instead he settled back and allowed the AI to continue her scan of his new fingers.
If Sara could wait two years for the team, he could wait a while longer before renewing what he considered to have been the start of a friendship with her.
4.
“What?” Leonard snapped as Sara leaned against his doorway, obviously having bargained with Gideon to override his instruction to keep his door closed and locked. He had been staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the dull ache of his face, but sat up abruptly when he heard the swish of his door opening. He had immediately regretted the action, all the blood rushing in his head making the bruises across his nose and cheekbones pulse with pain.
“Your face looks gross.” Sara had the same small smirk on her face as she had earlier when she’d prodded him to go talk to Mick. It was, if anything, slightly more smug since she knew he had gone to see his former partner, a victory she wasn’t going to hesitate to claim.
“Thanks.” Leonard drawled, sarcasm oozing as he dragged the word out into several syllables.
“No problem.” Sara stepped into his room without invitation. “I suppose Gideon hasn’t had a go at those bruises then?”
“Clearly not.” He growled, irritated at her put-on obliviousness.
Sara rolled her eyes at him, fishing a small jar out of her pocket and unscrewing the lid.
Leonard eyed it suspiciously. “What’s that?”
Sara dipped her fingers into the jar, bringing them out covered in a greenish slime. “Magical island healing goo.” She quipped.
He caught her wrist as she made to reach for his face. “No.”
She frowned. “No?”
Leonard lowered her hand between them, catching her eye intently. “I deserve these. They’re a sign that I let Mick down. And I don’t want them healed by Gideon or your island gunk. They’re a reminder of what happens when I let my brother down. I don’t want to forget that.” He told her seriously, taking every hint of sarcasm out of his tone to let her know he was being genuine.
Sara’s expression morphed into one of understanding. “Okay.” She nodded, wiping the ointment onto her jeans. From her other pocket, she pulled out a tattered deck of cards. Silently, she hitched herself onto the bed next to him and began dealing.
Leonard looked at her pointedly. “I was aiming to be alone.”
Sara snorted, not looking up from where she was fanning out her hand. “What, so you could beat yourself up over and over?” She pointed out knowingly. “Didn’t Mick do enough of that already?”
He narrowed his eyes, but conceded her point. Maybe a break from his mind wouldn’t be such a bad idea. He picked up his hand, sifting through his cards before glancing up at Sara.
“Got any threes?”
5.
“You bodyslammed a table in the middle of that bar brawl?”
“Basically.” Sara stripped off her waistcoat and shirt, knocking off her cowboy hat and letting her hair fall in its loose plait down her back. Dressed in her sports bra and trousers, she raised her arms to examine the heavy bruising decorating her right side. A large purple blotch covered her skin from hip to ribcage, angry and blossoming against her pale skin. “Nice.”
She ignored Leonard watching her and marched into the centre of the med bay. “Okay, Gideon, patch me u-“
A cold hand settled against the smarting bruise, icy fingers stretching around her waist. Sara jumped at the sudden contact, but didn’t move Leonard off her – the coolness of his skin was actually quite soothing to her sore flesh. She glanced up at him, confused at the unexpected touch. Leonard met her eyes without hesitation.
“Be more careful, okay?” He said quietly, in a tone so serious it made her heart jolt.
She wanted to make a quip about how she’d never needed a man to look out for her in a fight, or she’d had worse, or anything to lighten up the situation. However, the intense look in Leonard’s eyes stopped any witty comment in her throat. His gaze bore into hers, his expression one she’d never seen on the crook’s face before; pleading. He was legitimately asking her to try to not get injured.
She’d never experienced this. Nyssa and Oliver were both aware of the dangers of their lifestyle, cared for her once she was hurt but never asked her to prevent it, knowing it was practically inevitable that some sort of scrape would occur during any fight. Laurel would beg her to be safe, but it was a desire for her overall wellbeing, a wish that she would stay alive and whole. Quentin had given up on trying to tell her to do anything, even though she had seen the look he gave her when she had occasionally returned with a new scar or bruise on show – like he wanted to tell her to come home, but knew he couldn’t ask that of her.
And here was Leonard Snart, hand pressing urgently against her uninjured skin, eyes desperately asking her to not make him watch her like this if she could help it. He knew it would happen, but he wanted her to take more caution, see that it occurred less and not from situations where could prevent it with a little more time and care.
She thought back to the little information he had confessed of his life, of an abusive father and a scared little sister on the receiving end of most of the anger, of times he hadn’t been quick enough to step in front of whatever blow was coming her way. It made his reaction make a little more sense and she wavered under his intense gaze.
“Okay.” She agreed, the word coming out breathy in her surprise.
“Okay.” Leonard repeated, bringing his hand away so Gideon could begin scanning.
She found that she missed it.
+
“Ow.” Leonard stretched his jaw out carefully, testing the stiffness that had begun to settle there after the strong right hook Sara had landed on it earlier. He rubbed the sore area gingerly, wincing slightly when he hit a particularly tender spot.
“Would you like me to fix the early signs of bruising for you, Mr Snart?” Gideon’s voice chirped through the medbay.
“No. Thank you, Gideon.” He dropped his hand from his face to the bed he was sat on, still casually contorting his face to check how much damage had been done. “I think I deserved this one too much to have it science-d away by you.”
There was a pause. “Mr Snart, I believe Miss Lance is outside. Would you like me to let her in?”
Leonard straightened up. “Please, Gideon.”
The med day doors parted to show Sara scowling at him. She levelled her gaze on him for a moment before stalking into the room, a small jar clutched in one hand, the other squeezed into a fist. Silently, she stopped in front of him, unscrewing the lid and scooping out a generous dollop of green gunk.
“Hold still.” She said shortly, taking his chin in her free hand and smearing the goo down his bruised jawline with the other.
Leonard winced as she touched the sore parts of his face, shying away from her grip slightly. “Sara-“
“Nope.” She cut him off sharply, fingers tightening around his chin. “I’m still mad. You don’t get to talk yet.”
He sighed but settled back, allowing her to manipulate his head so she could get at the aching area from the best angle.
“If you ever sacrifice yourself again, I’ll kill you.” Sara finally spoke when she could no longer distract herself tending to his face. The ointment was sinking in already, lightening the purple skin so it didn’t stand out as darkly as before.
“That’s a redundant statement, don’t you think?” Leonard pointed out.
Sara glared.
When the team had returned to modern day Central City after being contacted by Cisco, the last thing she had expected to see in the main room of STAR Labs was Leonard Snart, casually leaning against a desk with a smug smirk on his face. Her only thought had been how much she wanted to knock it off his face before she found her fist flying straight at him. How dare he look so damn pleased with himself when she had mourned for him, both in the privacy of her room and over many a bottle of whiskey with Mick. A couple of hours later, she had had time to cool down her shock and embarrassment at the sight of the man she had shed tears over, regretting her rash actions.
So here she was, watching her island gunk work its magic as she had wanted it to months ago when his face had been marked by Mick instead of her and he’d turned down her offer of healing it.
“That shouldn’t bother you now.” Sara eventually said as she busied herself screwing the lid back onto the jar and setting it onto one of the shelves in the med bay so there would be easier access to it the next time.
“I’m sorry, Sara.” Leonard took the opportunity before she shushed him again. “I hate that I put everyone through that. But I’d do it again if it meant saving the team. If it meant saving you.”
Sara took a deep breath, letting it out a little unsteadily as she turned back to him. “I don’t need you to save me. I need you to fight alongside me.” She told him. “I want you to fight alongside me. I want to drag your sorry ass back to the ship after every battle and I want to help you with your injuries and you to help me with mine. Broken bones and bruises and- and- dismembered hands! I want to sit here with you while Gideon fixes you up instead of one of us running away every time. But in order to do that, you need to survive the damn fight in the first place. Understand?”
Leonard nodded solemnly.
“Good.” Sara huffed, adrenaline draining from her body now that all she’d wanted to say was out in the open. “So. Team meeting in ten on the brig.”
“Sara?” Leonard called out as she reached the door.
She turned with an expectant eyebrow raised.
“Does this whole ‘helping with injuries’ thing include kissing them better?”
Sara couldn’t help the snort she let out, or the smile that followed it. “After this meeting, why don’t we go start a bar brawl and you can find out?”
Leonard stepped away from the bed, following her path to the doorway of the med bay. Sara didn’t move from her spot, watching him approach her with amusement. Towering over her due to their height difference, Leonard rested one hand on the wall beside her head, the other moving to cup her face and bring it level to his.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather find out now.”
-
Just to let you all know, Captain Lance has postponed the team meeting until further notice.