#[ (⚔️) our fears make us traitors ; our hopes make us heroes : billy wintergreen ]

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The vision she painted left Billy’s heart aching. If he could give it to her, he would. He wanted to, for her sake and for his. He had missed her, missed this, this comfort and companionship and the way she always managed to impress him and how she—

But this wasn’t normal. Her comment about death—about being dead—brought that all back like a tidal wave. Sara had died. She had died and come back and something was wrong. Some kind of hell-filled nightmarish PTSD—a penance for cheating death.

Billy knew the moment Sara averted her eyes that he wasn’t about to like whatever came next. Sure enough, it was about the worst possible solution imaginable. Lock her in a cage.

“I—I can’t do that Sara—that’s—“ His voice caught in his throat and he fought back the overwhelming urge to let down and cry. “I can’t put you back in a cage when you just got out of one. You aren’t—you are not dangerous. Maybe I just need to give you some space while you sleep—or—or something. But not that. Not that.”

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He hated feeling like this. Helpless. And somehow it was worse in these situations. Trapped, pinned under the shrapnel on Lian Yu—at the time Billy couldn’t have imagined anything worse than that. But this? Being unable to help someone he cared about, someone he loved? He’d take the disaster in purgatory all over again.

He didn’t try and hold on, when Sara pulled away. Maybe that was the right thing to do, maybe it was the wrong thing. He didn’t know. Helpless, helpless, helpless.

It took a moment to gather his thoughts, arms folded on his knees. But finally, he spoke again.

“If that’s what you want—I’ll go—or I can get you a lift somewhere you feel safe. But I can tell you, that’s pretty much the last thing that I want. After the past few—after everything that’s happened—I don’t—hell,” he gave a weak chuckle. “It was already going to be hard for me to leave you alone long enough just to go to the bathroom. Right now… right now there is no place I would rather be than right here, helping you figure this out.”

“What I want?” Sara replied with a watery, mirthless laugh, “What I want is to sleep for three days straight, and to wake up with you sitting beside me. Then I want to order in a giant breakfast - pancakes, and waffles, and French toast, and sausage, and eggs, and toast - and have you shake your head and tell me there’s no possible way I can eat all of that. Which would lead to me dazzling you with my eating abilities, which are impressive on a good day, but even more so after going without food for over a year…” Because one would think you wouldn’t miss things like food and sleep while you were dead, but you could. She did - among many other things.

She fell silent as Billy went on to say that the last thing he wanted was to be separated from her. That he didn’t want to walk away to go to the bathroom, let alone drop her off somewhere. She took a minute to think everything over, and while she did come up with a solution… He wasn’t going to like it. Which was why she dropped her gaze before uttering, “I can’t stay here. I could hurt you, or Laurel. And if I go to one of my old safehouses, you can’t stay with me. Because if I lash out…” She could hurt him again. Or worse. “…But I’m tired, Billy. I’ve gone days without sleeping, done countless missions without it, but this is different.” It was like she couldn’t breathe. “…It’s only a matter of time before I’m out. So if you want to stick with me, that leaves us with one option: the cage in the bunker.”

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He hated feeling like this. Helpless. And somehow it was worse in these situations. Trapped, pinned under the shrapnel on Lian Yu—at the time Billy couldn’t have imagined anything worse than that. But this? Being unable to help someone he cared about, someone he loved? He’d take the disaster in purgatory all over again.

He didn’t try and hold on, when Sara pulled away. Maybe that was the right thing to do, maybe it was the wrong thing. He didn’t know. Helpless, helpless, helpless.

It took a moment to gather his thoughts, arms folded on his knees. But finally, he spoke again.

“If that’s what you want—I’ll go—or I can get you a lift somewhere you feel safe. But I can tell you, that’s pretty much the last thing that I want. After the past few—after everything that’s happened—I don’t—hell,” he gave a weak chuckle. “It was already going to be hard for me to leave you alone long enough just to go to the bathroom. Right now... right now there is no place I would rather be than right here, helping you figure this out.”

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Billy swallowed thickly. He didn’t even want to think about her hurt, harmed at his hands. The mental image was enough to make him sick to his stomach, to make him want to apologize for invisible wounds and phantom injuries. Guilt sank like a stone in his gut. How could he have made light of this—now was not the time—

“You’ve got me there—“ he said quietly, leaning back against the couch.

He listened in silence, mouth drawn taut, absorbing what Sara was telling him. To not know what was real and what wasn’t… to not know if your life was real or imagined… it was a nightmare above all else.

“You are home, Sara. You are home.” He reached a hand for hers, hoping it would bring some consolance.

Sara watched him swallow hard, watched the anguish that appeared on his face at just the thought of hurting her, and she whispered back, “I know. …I’m sorry, this is my fault,… I shouldn’t have asked you to come here, I shouldn’t even be staying here…” She remembered how on edge she’d been when she first came home. How much her nightmares affected her, how she was afraid of lashing out. But after that place she’d been in… She should’ve expected this. She should’ve locked herself away in one of her old hideouts for the night…

Sara knew, after everything she’d done, and what she’d realized, it was selfish. Selfish to let him sit there and hold her hand, the very person who she had just hurt. But for a minute… Her eyes closed, and she took comfort in it. It felt so real, and she wanted to believe in it so much. But then she opened them slowly, and pulled away. “…You should go. I can’t - I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you again…”

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Well, it looks like Sara’s really back.

It was a silly thought to have, given the circumstances, but he had it all the same, trying desperately to pry her fingers from his throat. It wasn’t the first time a best friend had strangled him, but he was really hoping it was going to be the last.

At least this time it wasn’t intentional.

“Sara—“ he choked out, floundering and attempting to throw her onto the floor—maybe getting the wind knocked out of her would wake her. Or maybe it would fuel her nightmare.

Regardless, he had to try something.

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Sara was drowning. Her skin was slick with the water from the Pit as mottled arms pulled her down into the water over and over again. But Laurel and Oliver and Constantine, they would come, right? They would come, and she would be freed. She searched for them as water invaded her lungs, as she fought back against the arms as hard as she could. But she was still alone. And every time she thought the torture had ended, that they would let her drown and simply cease to be, she was there again. Starting back at the beginning, the water slowly invading her lungs.

In the present, she continued to moan and groan. At the feeling of Billy’s hands on her arms, she lightly shook them off. And then she started to grow more frantic. Her limbs started to flail until her eyes suddenly flew open, and she was crouched on the couch, her hand wrapped around Billy’s throat.

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birdonawiresara

Sara forced herself to meet Billy’s gaze despite the obvious look of self-loathing on her face. “…And if I said that to you if our situations were reversed? If you’d dug your nails into my neck so hard that you made me bleed… If you choked me so hard that my neck was already turning purple… If you were on the verge of killing me… Would you accept ‘nothing a band aid and a little whiskey can’t fix?’” It was a rhetorical question, she knew he wouldn’t. It would haunt him, tear him apart, just like it was doing to her now.

Sara’s gaze dropped back down, and she was silent for a little while before saying, “When I first came back, my sister was holding me so tight it almost hurt. I could smell my dad’s cologne. I could feel the callouses on Oliver’s hands as he gripped my own, could hear Felicity’s quiet reassurances in the background. And then when I came to find you…” She couldn’t deny that it devastated her how little he seemed to care for his life now, even leaving his own door unlocked and opened. Drinking heavily. But despite all that, “…All the pieces finally clicked into place. I knew I was home.” A beat passed before she added, “But if I’m not, if this is all just a part of being trapped in that place… When I was with the League, I was tortured by our enemies and at the hands of League members themselves, and I’m telling you… There is no worse torture than the thought of none of this being real.”

Billy swallowed thickly. He didn’t even want to think about her hurt, harmed at his hands. The mental image was enough to make him sick to his stomach, to make him want to apologize for invisible wounds and phantom injuries. Guilt sank like a stone in his gut. How could he have made light of this—now was not the time—

“You’ve got me there—“ he said quietly, leaning back against the couch.

He listened in silence, mouth drawn taut, absorbing what Sara was telling him. To not know what was real and what wasn’t... to not know if your life was real or imagined... it was a nightmare above all else.

“You are home, Sara. You are home.” He reached a hand for hers, hoping it would bring some consolance.

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birdonawiresara

“You’re bloodied, and you’re bruised,” Sara said as she shook her head, collapsing back against the wall now. “And you… You are one of the last people that I would want to hurt.” Twenty-four hours. She’d been back less than twenty-four hours and she’d already hurt someone she cared about. She nearly killed him. …She thought coming back to life would be different, that she would do things differently. That she would be different. But what she saw in front of her now said otherwise.

Sara’s eyes glazed over at his comment and she softly whispered, “What if I’m not awake? What if I’m not alive? What if this is some - some new level of Hell where I think I’m home, back with my family and friends… Only to find myself drowning again.” A beat passed before she added, “Nothing is right, Billy. So many of my memories, the things that made me me for better or for worse, they’re jumbled or missing altogether, and…” And she was scared.

She was terrified.

“Hey—no worries—I’m okay, Sara. I promise, a’right? Nothing a bandaid and a little whiskey can’t fix, yeah?”

Billy managed to keep the smile on his face, for her sake, until he saw her falter. Forced mirth turned to solemn concern and he listened silently, blue eyes filled with worry. Running his hand through his hair he took a deep breath.

Convincing people that what they were seeing was real (or, in the inverse, was a mirage) was nothing short of impossible; he remembered that from trying to reason with Mirakuru laced Slade. People had to decide what was real and what wasn’t on their own. All you could to was try and guide them there.

“I’m not a professional, not on this whole coming back to life thing. I don’t know what’s... normal—for that. Bu’ I can’t help but imagine that feelin’ lost—not like yourself—that’s gotta be as common as common can be with this kinda thing.” He paused and then continued. “I know I’m real—and I know you’re real, even if I couldn’t believe it myself earlier. If you weren’t, I’d be the crazy one, not you.”

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birdonawiresara

Despite the fact that her eyes were open, there was no recognition in them at the sight of Billy. If anything, her features became angry. Feral. And the more he attempted to pry her fingers away, the harder she clamped down, her nails now digging into his skin until she drew blood.

Even the sound of her name did nothing to bring her out of it, and it wasn’t until her back hit the floor that she finally woke up. Her eyes widened at the realization of what had happened - at the realization of what she was currently doing - and she pulled her hand away from Billy’s throat, scrambling backwards to press herself up against the wall. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Oh, God, I’m sorry… I thought… I thought my soul was back in that place…”

Billy wheezed, falling back away from Sara, leaning against the couch. He reached up to touch his neck and was surprised when he looked down and saw blood on his hand. She really could have killed him. It’s not her fault, he reminded himself. But that’s one hell of a sleepwalking episode. Taking several deep breaths in, he steadied himself.

“S’okay--I get it. You a’right?” There was worry on his face. The way she had looked at him was nothing short of terrifying. What had she seen in that place? What kind of horrors had she been witness to? He had been to purgatory, but where had she been?