#about these kids in chicago who can shrink down and use the rooms to travel to the time periods they're based on

[ljf613]

I’m on a bit of a book nook/bookshelf insert kick. (I like ones that show outdoors or have a window because it’s like a second tiny window in your room.) If you could get a bookshelf insert of anything, what would it be? (It’s a pretty cool Google image search or YouTube skim if you have no clue what I’m talking about. 😅 )

Ooh, yeah I've heard a bit about those! I love tiny things, and I love books, so if I had the money and space, I would totally get some.

I'm also obsessed with old-fashioned aesthetics (particularly anything from the Victorian-era), so I think I would go for something influenced by the Thorne rooms.

If you've never heard of them, they're a series of miniature rooms (on a perfect 1:12 scale!) designed in the 1930s and inspired by various interior design styles across American and European history.

(There are 99 still around-- 68 are on display at the Chicago Art Institute, 20 are in the Phoenix Art Museum, nine are at the Knoxville Museum of Art, there's one in the Children's Museum of Indianapolis, and the last one is at Kaye Miniature Museum of Los Angeles. I've haven't had a chance to see all of them in person yet, but someday.)

Here are some photos so you have an idea of what kind of aesthetic I'm talking about:

You get the idea. (I recommend doing your own research. They're amazing.)

Anyway, if I could get this exact aesthetic compressed into a narrow book nook and put on my self, I would be a very happy woman.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Sam, Interrupted: Part One

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,102

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

The death of the two women in your life was still very fresh in your minds. They wanted you three to kill Lucifer with the Colt, and as much as you tried, it didn’t work. Jo died for nothing as did Ellen, but the event hasn’t left your mind since. Your mind wouldn’t let you forgive yourself for not doing something more even though Dean’s told you repeatedly that you did everything you could. Jo was dead the minute the hellhounds got to her no matter how much magic you used on her body.

Nonetheless, there were other people that needed to be saved. Other people that had no clue the apocalypse was near them. Other people that were more important than Lucifer since the archangel hasn’t shown up since that night. All you could do was focus on the case in front of you which just so happened to be in a psychiatric hospital where an ex-hunter summoned you.

In order to get into the hospital and do your job, you needed to go undercover.

In order to do that, you needed to tell the truth.

“You were referred to me by a Dr. Babar in Chicago,” Dr. Fuller stated, looking at the file in his hands.

“That’s right,” you nodded.

“Isn't there a children's book about an elephant named Babar?”

“I don't know. I don't have any elephant books. Look, Doctor, I-I-I think the doc was in over his head with this one,” Dean points to his brother. “'Cause my brother is,” he makes a motion with his fingers by the side of his head that usually meant “crazy”.

“Okay, fine, thank you. That's really not necessary,” he stuttered, grabbing his notepad and file. “Why don't you tell me how you're feeling, Alex?”

“I'm fine. I mean, okay, a little depressed, I guess,” Sam sighed.

“Okay, any idea why?” Dr. Fuller asked as he wrote in his notepad.

“Probably because I started the apocalypse.”

“The apocalypse?”

“Yeah, that's right.”

��And you think you started it?” Dr. Fuller asked, looking at you and Dean who just smiled innocently.

“Well, yeah, I mean I killed this demon, Lilith, and I accidentally freed Lucifer from hell. So now, he's topside, and we're trying to stop him.”

“Who is?”

“Me. And him. And her. And this one angel.”

“Oh, you mean, like an angel on your shoulder.”

“No, his name’s Castiel. He wears a trench coat.”

“See what I mean, Doc? The kid's been beating himself up about this for months. The apocalypse wasn't his fault.”

“It’s not?” Dr. Fuller asked, stunned.

“No. There was this other demon, Ruby. She got him addicted to demon blood, and near the end, he was practically chugging this stuff,” you chuckled, adding in your two cents.

“My brother's not evil. He was just... high... yeah? So, could you fix him up so we can get back to traveling around the country and hunting monsters?”

“I really have an itching to kill some demons and Lucifer. I mean, we did shoot him, but he lived and is now going to come after me because apparently, I’m connected to his aunt or something.”

“Lucifer’s… aunt?”

“Yeah. Her name is Amara.”

“Irma,” Dr. Fuller said when he picked up his phone and dialed an extension, “cancel my lunch.”

All three of you gave the doctor comforting and warm smiles which only concerned him more.

“Dr. Fuller thinks it would be best if we keep you three under observation or a couple of days,” a sickly happy nurse said as she led you down a hall.

She was speaking, but you didn’t listen to a word she was saying. There was something off about the dark-haired nurse. She wasn’t a demon or an angel… but she wasn’t human either.

“All of us? Me, too? And Y/N?” Dean asked.

“Yes, Sugar. The doctor thinks that would be best,” she smiled.

Sam and Dean got their own rooms, and when she was done with them, she walked into your room with a smile on her face. She went down to business and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around your arm, checked it, and then removed it.

“Alright, I'm just gonna give you a little check-up,” she smiled.

“Would you stop smiling all the time? You’re freaking me out here,” you mumbled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” she playfully frowned before smiling again.

“What are you?” you muttered to yourself, not expecting her to hear it.

Though she did, and her smiled faltered just a bit before she reminded herself to keep it on her face always. Yeah, there was something definitely wrong with her.

“How long is this going to take?” you asked.

“Not that long. You just relax and let me do my job.” She was right, it didn’t take that long, and you were walking to the patient lounge with patient scrubs, shoes, and a blue robe.

It’s what Sam and Dean were wearing when you joined them.

“How was your Silkwood shower?” Dean asked you.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said in a small voice. Shaking off the horrifying experience, you decided to get down to business about why you were really here in the first place. “I can't believe I let you two talk me into this.”

“Hey, it's the least we could do. Martin saved Dad's ass more times than we can count. He's a great hunter,” Sam defended the man who summoned you here.

“Was. Until Albuquerque,” Dean grumbled.

“Besides, I just figure it's best we keep busy. That's all.”

“Better than what?” Dean asked.

“You know what,” you sighed, still not over Ellen and Jo’s death at all.

“Okay. Look... um... last few weeks, you've kind of been worrying me,” Sam admitted.

“Oh, come on, Sam. Stop,” Dean rolled his eyes. “Look, just because we're in the loony bin doesn't give you the right to head-shrink me.”

“Dean—”

“Ellen and Jo dying—yeah, it was a fucking tragedy, okay? But I'm not gonna wallow in it.”

“Dean, you always do this. You can't just keep this shit in,” you sighed.

“Watch me,” he chuckled before spotting the ex-hunter by the corner. “Oh, there he is.”

Dean left you and Sam, and you watched him go with a sad look. Ellen and Jo meant something to him, you knew, and it sucked he never wanted to talk about anything. Taking a deep breath, you and Sam walked over to Martin who smiled at your presence.

“Sam, Dean, Y/N, wow,” he stood and shook Sam’s hand. “Wow, you boys got big. You too, Y/N. You look good.”

“Thanks. You do, too, Martin,” you smiled.

“Uh... well, thanks for coming,” he motioned for you to sit, which you three did. “In the old days, I could've taken care of this thing with both hands tied behind my back... but, well... now...”

“What do you think it is that we're hunting?”

“I don't know yet. A ghost, demon, monster... animal, vegetable, mineral,” he chuckled. “Hospital's had five deaths in the last four months. Doctors keep calling it suicides, but they're wrong.”

“So, you’ve seen this thing?” you asked. Martin shook his head which lead you to your neck question. “Has anyone seen this thing?”

“Well, a couple patients have, uh... had glimpses, but there's not a lot to go on.”

“Are they reliable?” Dean asked.

“Oh, sure, why wouldn't they be?” Martin wondered.

Taking a look around the room, you noticed a woman danced and hummed around the room, and you knew whatever she said wasn’t going to be reliable. Looking back at Martin, you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I know you three think I'm a bag of loose screws. Now, you wouldn't be wrong. But I wouldn't have called you unless there was something here. I can feel it in my gut.”

“We believe you. Have you checked any of the bodies? Found signs of an attack?” Sam asked.

“Well, uh, no... I don't go around dead b-b-b-bodies anymore,” he flinched. Dr. Fuller approached you four and smiled at everyone.

“Alex, Eddie, Maria,” he smiled at you and the brothers. It’s not like you could use your real names here. “Well, I'm glad to see you're making friends. Why don't you and Mr. Creaser join us for group? Please. Right this way.”

Getting up, you followed the Doctor, but he stopped you and Dean from joining Martin and Sam.

“Actually, I'm gonna be putting you two in the afternoon group.”

“What? Why?” you asked.

“Well, to be frank, uh, the relationship that you two have with your brother seems dangerously codependent. I think a little time apart will do you both good,” he smiled.

He walked away with Sam and Martin, but you two frowned as you watched them go.

“What do we do now?” Dean asked.

“I guess we just hang here a bit until they come back. We can’t do anything without them. Well, I mean we could, but it’ll be like us chasing our tails.”

“Then let’s play,” he smiled, moving a chair out for you at a table with a checkers board on it.

“Don’t mind if I do,” you grinned, taking a seat.

Dean sat opposite of you and set up the board, giving you the red ones and him the black. When everything was set up, he made the first move, and the game started. When the score was tied, you held up a hand and got up from your seat.

“Don’t cheat. I’m going to use the bathroom,” you chuckled before walking away.

As you turned the corner, you looked back to see Dean speaking to someone even though no one was there to begin with.

After a long afternoon, you and Dean followed several patients down the hall, Dean’s hands in his pockets and staring at the floor. He was kind of depressed, but you didn’t know why he was. He claimed a doctor came to him while you were away to talk about his father, but you were only gone for five minutes. Just as you two passed by a door, it opened and Sam walked out and joined you two.

“Dean, hey. You okay?”

“He’s having a tough time. Please tell us you found something.”

“Yeah. A guy, Ted, says he saw the creature. We should talk to him. You wanna meet here in an hour?”

“Yeah, sooner we take care of this thing, sooner we can get gone. This place gives me the creeps,” he shivered.

Turning around, you come face to face with a patient who just smiled. Before you could say anything, she grabs the back of your neck and kisses you just like that. Your eyes went wide as did the brothers, and she pulled away with a seductive smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi…?”

“I’m Wendy.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded.

She slapped your ass as she passed by you to leave, and you watched her with a confused look.

“Dude—”

“Not a word, Winchester,” you glared at Dean who lost his smile.

He cleared his throat and pretended what he saw didn’t affect him in anyway.

After hours, when you knew the nurses would be on their rounds, you and Dean met his brother outside of his cell. Sam had the lock pick he managed to sneak into the place. He knew of the guy that saw the monster you were looking for, and you were going to need to talk to him if you wanted to get this case over and done with as soon as possible.

“Well, it's about time. Nurses are on their rounds. We got, like, fifteen, twenty minutes. So, where is this guy?” Dean asked.

“Room 306,” Sam informed, leading the trio to the room.

It didn’t take long since Sam’s was near his. When you approached the door, you heard Ted screaming in fear. The monster must be in there, and your hands turned blue to get the door opened faster than a lock pick would. The brothers moved out of the way, and right before your hands could touch the door, Ted’s feet slammed against the window so that you couldn’t see inside the place.

“Hurry up! Come on, hurry up!” Dean urged.

Shaking your head, you placed your hands flat on the door as you let your magic do its thing to get the door unlocked. As soon as the door clicked, you opened it only to see Ted hanging from a pipe in the ceiling with a tied bed sheet around his neck.

“Damn it!” you exclaimed.

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[notbecauseofvictories]

There never was a more holy age than ours, and never a less. Annie Dillard.

"No, really," the man at the bar says with second-hand pride. He gestures to the younger man beside him, who ducks his head, smiles. I have been quietly nursing the same beer for half an hour, listening to them talk to one another. They only occasionally remember that they have an audience, even more rarely that it's me. "He's a photographer, an artist. The kind that doesn't have a day job."

It's a Thursday night and the median age in the bar is somewhere in the late forties. The photographer and I make up the entire lower half of the bell-curve.

"Must be nice," interjects a third voice, from further down the bar. He's been largely quiet, his face turned away so he can watch the Phillies lose. "I'd like to be an artist."

The first man, the older man, laughs. "C'mon, we'd all like to be artists," he says with perfect sureness, as though this is a fact, immutable as gravity or the rising of the sun.

He works for the state, he told me; Department of Transportation. He works on "the turnpike." (I have only been in Philadelphia a week and a half, I don't know what he means, but I nod like I understand.) He gets good benefits, that's the thing. Otherwise he'd be an artist.

"What sort of artist?" I ask, an inconvenient reminder that I am still here, listening. Luckily, they seem to forget it again quickly; they're too busy arguing whether carpentry counts as art, and then the bartender asks if travel writing is art or journalism, is journalism an art? What is art, anyway?

I get their professions in bits and pieces: construction, plumber. An unlikely accountant, given the number of tattoos. A bartender, a host at a chain restaurant. An almost-attorney, not even through her second week.

In the end, we all agree: we would rather be artists.

.

It's instructive, moving to Philadelphia when all that waits for you there is an empty apartment and a borrowed air mattress. The bare walls force you out into the world, or at least to the nearest coffee shop with an internet connection. You spend a lot of time nursing lukewarm lattes, and googling "philly events + this weekend."

I don't remember how I found out about the Wagner Free Institute of Science. (There were a lot of recursively nested links, I clicked on all of them.) The museum itself was too far for a jaunt after work, but they were offering a free six-week class at a nearby library branch. The history of cartography: how maps evolved from second- or third-hand accounts of sundials to the real-time GPS math-sphere we know today.

It's been a few years since my last history of science class, but I have fond memories of wide-ranging, bitter arguments. The scientific method seems immutable until you realize that it was invented before modern mathematics, and produced reliable results that are laughable within the modern paradigm. An atom looks like a circle and x-y graphs are perfectly readable until you stop and consider that alchemists considered their dense, symbolic depictions legible too. The human knowledge-making endeavor is always specific to a time and place, and they shape one another.

(I love law's pragmatism, but there will always be a part of me longing for a two-hour argument about epistemology and whether we can ever really know anything.)

I decided to attend the class, thinking that it would be entertaining even if it was just me and the professor in a library conference room.

When I first walked into the conference room, I thought for a minute maybe I'd gone to the wrong library branch. There were too many people: some fifty-odd bodies, retirees and young professionals, a handful of college students. One young man in scrubs. Rows of uncomfortable metal chairs, and almost all of them were full. Shortly after I arrived, people had to be dispatched to go find more.

By the time the class started, people were leaning against the walls. I'm not sure who was more surprised, the professor or all of us.

It was one of the retirees who raised his hand first, as the professor talked about an Egyptian map of the underworld found on the bottom of a sarcophagus. "How do you know it's a map?" he asked. All I could see was his cheek, not-quite clean shaven. "How do we know it isn't art?"

Almost before he was finished speaking, three other hands went up.

By the end of the period, the professor had to gloss over Ptolemy in the last five minutes. There wasn't time for more, what with all the questions.

.

I am always a little startled when large numbers of people turn up to listen to opera.

There are a dizzying number of articles and thinkpieces about its imminent death. The pleas for donations get more and more feverish every year, even as the season is shrinking. All amid lamentations that it's a niche interest with a dwindling audience—opera is for old men and the pretentious, Harold Bloom et al. If you like singing there's musical theater and if you like drama there's the soaps; we as a culture have outgrown the need for valkyries, madwomen, and other assorted fat ladies singing.

Hence my surprise when, every year, Chicago's Lyric Opera fills Millennium Park to overflowing for their preview of the upcoming season. Families with children and dogs crowd up against retirees with bottles of wine and paper plates of fine cheese; everyone applauds. It's hard to imagine the death knell of opera on those nights, when couples bend their heads together and small children run through the crowd to the strains of "Mein lieber Hippolyte."

It's even harder to imagine when a broadcast—not even a live performance!—of "We Shall Not Be Moved" fills the mall of Independence National Historical Park.

Maybe it's the subject matter. A modern opera about racism and inequality, set in the shadows of the West Philadelphia MOVE bombings, is powerful and challenging content for an opera. "We Shall Not Be Moved" sold out during its initial run-through; in the shadow of Independence Hall, its questions about America's promise and the nature of the law took on a bitterly ironic quality. It's also a decidedly Philadelphia story, the rawness and relevancy only compounded when the National Park Supervisor introduced it by insisting her department has "a very good relationship with the Philadelphia police" alongside their commitment to supporting free speech.

Or maybe modern opera is more enticing—you have to love opera already to care about Lucia di Lammermor as the epitome of bel canto. You don't have to know anything to be intrigued by an opera about black children in Philadelphia. This is the artistic era we live in, Founding Fathers reference Biggie on Broadway, inner city kids perform chamber opera. For all I know, people turned up just to hear "girls want to get with it/North Philly slayer, player" sung in a sonorous bass-baritone.

But I think the truth is simpler: people still want to see opera, they've never stopped. They want to sit and listen to music, whisper to one another and watch. I was just behind a family of five: mother, father, and three boys, all at that age when they are mostly limbs and nervous energy. One—the oldest, a teenager, as evidenced by how hard he was trying to ignore the rest of his family—was defiantly trying to sleep, one arm thrown over his eyes. He moved only to shift to a new position, and once to pet a dog that wandered through the crowd.

An expensive ticket would have been wasted on him. But the event was free so he was there, sitting beside his brother and pretending, with all the bravura of adolescence, to be somewhere else. The light from the projector cast the rest of his family in silhouette: four faces, turned up to the screen. I wondered if all four of them would been there, if the tickets were sixty, ninety dollars each; if any of them would have come.

I'm distracted by a child, barely older than six, wandering through the audience. She stops suddenly, looking around and calling for her mother. The audience thrums like a plucked string to the sound, even in the half-dark you can see people's mouths shaping, lost, shaping, help. It only takes a few minutes for the child's brother to dart through the crowd and take her hand, whisk her away and back to their blanket. The audience settles again.

In a folding chair just a little ways away, an old woman is absently conducting, as though the musicians on screen could see her—one-two-one-two, just her hand for a baton.

[agentmarymargaretskitz]

i’m on your magical mystery ride

Happy belated birthday @plinys! Sorry I’m on the late side with this, but I hope you don’t mind my attempt at some role swap Darhkatom.

AO3

              The first time he shows up is when Nora Darhk and the other Legends find themselves in Victorian London. While they don’t know his purpose at first, it becomes clear once he helps resurrect Sandy Palmer, a former member of the League of Assassins who nearly destroyed the East Coast in the eighties. When they cross paths again in 1920’s Chicago, they discover that his name is Raymond Palmer, that he’s Sandy’s son, a warlock, and working for Mallus with his mother. Ray also proves to be dangerous when he nearly drains Zoe Ramirez’s life force. The action, along with his affiliation with Mallus, makes him an enemy of the time travelers immediately.

              Then a trip to 1991 takes them to a hospital to help an exorcist with a case of supposed demonic possession in a child. Said child turns out to be Ray Palmer, age ten and orphaned in the wake of his mother’s actions. Martina, Zoe, and the exorcist get sent back in time, but Nora and Zari decide to look into young Ray more. They take him out of the hospital to a coffee house (all while marveling to themselves at the peace in the time period compared to the militaristic time they come from) and Nora teaches him how to play rummy. It’s a nice experience until Mallus possesses Ray again, his resurrected mother returns to inform him that it’s his destiny to save her, and Nora and Zari watch as Ray goes back with the head nurse/cultist to the hospital to follow a dark path.

She can’t help but feel awful that she couldn’t save him. She can shrink and shoot lasers and has saved history a few times. Yet Nora can’t save little Ray from his destiny.

~~~

              She and the other Legends continue to correct anachronisms and figure out the importance of Zari and Mari McCabe’s totems. Nora keeps up to distract her thoughts from Ray and how the sweet boy grew up into a cold warlock. Ronnie Stein works with her to develop a nanite gun that can stop Ray or Zoe if Mallus tries to take over either of them. It’s untested when she finally ends up using it on Ray to stop him from using the Earth Totem and save Mari and Joey. However, it also starts killing him, which burdens Nora with enough guilt to develop a cure.

Martina Jackson is the first and only one to hear her plan and shakes her head at it.

“You remember what he tried to do to Zoe, Nora,” she tells her as the cure is loaded into a syringe. “Why would you try to save him?”

“Because I think there’s still good in him that survived past 1991,” is her answer before leaving. “Mallus didn’t destroy all of it, Tina. At least I can’t believe he did.”

              Miraculously, Martina lets her go back to the island where Sandy is still trying to heal her son. She is immediately suspicious of Nora’s claim that Ray can be saved, but the desperation of a mother to save her child wins out. Nora injects it into his arm and breathes a sigh of relief when Ray stops seizing. The relief is short-lived when Ray cuts off her oxygen and she finds herself kidnapped by the Palmers.

~~~

              When Nora wakes again, she’s tied to a chair in a dark room. Ray has Mari’s totem that he took from her in the search for the Earth Totem. Apparently it’s not working for him or something. Amaya McCabe, Mari’s future daughter who lives in the same unfriendly era she and the other Legends hail from, wants it for herself, despite possessing the water totem. However, Sandy cuts the squabble to remind them they need to find a way to restore the Fire Totem they’ve stolen. Despite the pounding headache she has, Nora now realizes why she’s still alive in their custody. They want her to figure out how to fix it.

              A visit to a company in Silicon Valley with a side of murder later, Nora is in a makeshift lab to try and repair the broken totem. It isn’t easy trying to figure out how to fix it, but she does get an idea about cold fusion doing the trick. Sandy explains that she did know the scientist who invented cold fusion, except by know, she means assassinated him in 1962. So she knows where to look and is ready to travel back with a time stone.

Then Ray grabs her hand. “Mom, are you sure traveling back into your own timeline is the best idea?”

That stops Sandy. Ray volunteers to go instead, but Sandy shows concern about her son’s safety.

“So I’ll take Darhk with me,” Ray suggests. “She can help me get the formula for it before past you kills the guy.”

Sandy considers this. “Fair enough. But you be careful, Ray. And use protection.”

Nora’s face flushes for a reason she’s not quite sure of until she sees Sandy pass her son a gun.

~~~

              Things go to downhill quickly once they get to East Berlin. Once they find the scientist, Ray abandons the plan of getting him to safety first and wants the formula. Nora argues with him about getting the scientist out of danger first. When the man wants to bring a doll to his daughter, it takes up even more time arguing over whether his life is really worth a child’s plaything. By the time they actually are ready to leave, past Sandy arrives and is prepared to murder all of them, including the son she doesn’t know she’ll have later on. Nora manages to knock her out, but it’s not before Sandy breaks Ray’s time stone.

“Now we’re stuck here,” Ray grumbles as they make an escape with the scientist to a safehouse. “We better at least get the formula.”

Nora looks over at him. “You know I have people looking for me, right? We won’t be stuck in this time.”

“And what are they going to do when they see me?” Ray demands. “I guarantee I won’t get the same treatment from them as you.”

He’s right about that.

Nora sighs and runs her hands through her hair. “Look, the least we can do is help this guy get back to his family and get the formula to cold fusion. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Maybe, but I prefer the fast way,” Ray demands, grabbing a hammer and making his way over to the scientist. “Listen up, time to start talking. We need the formula and I’m pretty sure you’d rather have hands than none at all.”

The scientist looks at him, unfazed. “Do what you want. It won’t be the worst thing I’ve been through.”

Nora shudders a little. “What happened to you?”

“I lost my family. They’re all gone. The doll wasn’t for my daughter. It was hers.”

“You lied to us,” Ray snarls.

The scientist levels him with a glare. “I made a decision to try and buy some time. This formula isn’t something I can let fall into the wrong hands.”

Nora watches Ray raise the hammer, but his hand is wavering. She darts out and grabs his wrist, unsure whether he really will let it drop.

“Give us a minute,” she asks before dragging Ray off to the side.

“What was that?” he hisses once they’re out of earshot.

“We can’t torture him,” Nora snaps, her mind all to full of memories of Argus holding cells. “It’s not going to get anything out of him. There has to be another way we can do this.”

Ray folds his arms over his chest. “So what do you suggest we do?”

“For starters, maybe not trying to break his hand,” she mutters, sitting down on a crate. “Um….”

“You don’t have anything, do you?”

“I can’t spit out a solution on the spot, especially for something like this!”

Ray groans. Sitting down makes Nora realize how tall he really is. She knows she’s a good deal shorter than him, but now it’s hard to ignore.

“This was supposed to go without a hitch,” he grumbles. “And here I am, screwing it up. My mom’s gonna be disappointed.”

Nora raises an eyebrow. “It’s not like you didn’t try.”

“That doesn’t matter. She’s still going to see it as a failure. I was eight when she died, and she still sees me as this kid she has to protect. This was my chance to show her that I can handle myself.”

“We still have time, even with your past mom after us,” Nora murmurs, rising to her feet. “We’ll figure this out and get home. Right now, we need to get the formula, but we need to give something to the scientist that he wants.”

“The man lost his family and is living in East Berlin. What can we even do for him?”

The lightbulb goes off in her head. It’s complicated, but better than nothing. “We get him out of here.”

Ray’s eyes widen. “Oh! If we get him out of here, then he’ll talk and give us the formula. It can’t be that hard, right?”

Nora resists the urge to roll her eyes. In her time, travel between states and countries is heavily regulated by Argus. People aren’t sure whether it’s to keep them from getting out or getting in. A divided Berlin will prove to be just as much of a challenge.

“We just have to get him across the border and he’ll talk, right?” Ray grins. She knows he’s her enemy and that he’s nearly killed Zoe once, but that smile is genuine.

“Sure, I don’t know why I didn’t think of that,” she smirks, laying the sarcasm on thick. “We’ll just skip across one of the most heavily guarded borders in all of history. How hard can it be?”

Ray’s smile falters. “That’s sarcasm, isn’t it?”

She’s pretty sure the look she gives him substitutes for a verbal response.

~~~

              The longer she spends with Ray, the more Nora starts to get a better idea of who he is now. There is darkness in him, no question about it. Then again, getting possessed by a demon will do that to a person. But she sees a lot more optimism than she expected. He’s certain that their plan will succeed to smuggle themselves over the border. Nora, on the other hand, is chewing the inside of her cheek and wondering where the Legends are.

“I need to ask you a question,” he says as they get in the car.

Nora tugs her coat a little tighter around herself. “What?”

“You’re a time traveler,” Ray shuts the door behind them. “Amaya’s told me all about the time you come from. I know how different it is from mine, how downhill things go.”

Oh, she knows where this is going.

“If the Legends can time travel, why don’t you fix your time? How come none of you are bothering to change your circumstances?”

Nora looks over at him. When Jonas Hunter first recruited her and the others, they had wanted to do that. After she’d nearly erased herself from the timeline, he took the time to explain to them why they couldn’t do that.

“You think we don’t want to?” Nora finally asks. “You think we’re content that there are people back in my time who are living under constant Argus monitoring? I’ll tell you right now that we aren’t. Every Legend on the Waverider has gone through hell because of something we can’t control. Whether it’s having a metagene, the color of their skin, their religion, or their family history, Argus has targeted all of us because we were those things and then tried to defy the system.”

“Then what’s stopping you from changing the system?” Ray challenges.

“Because it’s not that easy,” she sighs. “You know that old movie, Back to the Future?”

He nods. “It’s not that old.”

“Well, it is for me, and it’s banned in the future,” Nora explains. “Zoe’s the one who got us to watch it on the Waverider. When Marty goes to the past and messes with things, he changes his future. At the end of the movie, he wakes up and is trying to figure out what his life is now. That’s sort of what it would be like if we drastically altered the past. Our memories and lives would start changing into something we didn’t recognize. Eventually we’d adapt to it, but we wouldn’t be the same people. And meddling with our own timelines can have dangerous repercussions.”

“So you wouldn’t take the risk?”

“I did,” Nora tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “And if it wasn’t for the others, I would have been erased from the timeline. We can’t fix things for our present, but we don’t do nothing. When we can, we weaken Argus’s control in the 40’s. It’s not much, but eventually a revolution could happen if we keep it up.”

Ray shrugs at this. “Fair enough.”

“My turn now,” Nora turns towards Ray. “Why are you so desperate to make your mother proud?”

“Because I need her to see that I’m not that same lonely kid she left behind when she died.”

Nora pressed her lips together. “And having Mallus possess you makes it worth it?”

“My brother was too weak of a vessel and died when Mallus took control of him. When he possessed me, I didn’t. He saw that I was strong and worthy to be his vessel. Now my mom just needs to see that.”

~~~

              They run into problems at the border with the guards and past Sandy before present Sandy makes an entrance and gets them to safety. Ray is furious, gets into an argument with her, and leaves in a huff. Nora takes the time to tell Sandy about what her son had been telling her. It’s just enough to push Sandy to give Nora back her suit and to go after Ray, who managed to get kidnapped by her past self. Nora watches the fight from the top of the roof while trying to help the scientist after past Sandy has shot him. When she looks around to see how things were going, she can’t contain the scream that rips out of her when Ray topples over the edge of the roof.

Then he floats back up, the spirit of an eagle surrounding him signifying the totem is now working for him. Nora watches as Ray attacks and defeats the past version of his mother before her attention is drawn back to the scientist. In his dying breathes, he entrusts her with the cold fusion formula, hidden in the doll the entire time. Ray hears the whole exchange and demands the doll from her.

“Sorry, Ray,” she apologizes before firing her blaster at the Berlin Wall.

Just a big enough event to draw the attention of the Legends and for Joey West-Allen to speed in and rescue her.

Even though Joey gets her out in seconds, Ray’s angry puppy dog look stays with her.

~~~

              It’s hard to forget about Ray Palmer. She sees him in her dreams almost every time she sleeps. All this time they thought he was a big bad warlock who was just like his mother. Now she knows he still has the good in him she saw when he was a kid, but the desire to prove himself outweighs it. But maybe she can help bring that good back to the surface. After all, that’s what the Legends did for her. Had Jonas not pulled her out of her Argus cell and brought her on a mission to save time a few years ago, she’d be more cold and bitter.

Eventually, after another dream of Ray, she finds herself in the library. “Gideon?”

“Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Darhk?”

“I need information on Ray Palmer.”

“How much?”

“As much as you can find.”

~~~

              The next few days, and a few nights, are spent learning about Ray Palmer. She was a child when he vanished from history. However, she’s betting the date of his disappearance was when he was plucked out of the timeline to resurrect his mother. But Nora finds out about his short-lived business, Palmer Technologies. When she built the ATOM suit, she consulted some old Palmer Tech research documents on power source research from Argus courtesy of a hacker. The small connection makes her smile.

“I hope this research is going to have a good purpose,” a voice calls behind her on the fourth night.

Nora turns to see Zari Tomaz standing in the entryway of the library. “How did you know I was here? I thought you were asleep.”

“Joey saw you sneaking in here the other night and asked me if I knew why.”

Nora presses her lips together. “I’m just trying to find out more about Ray Palmer.”

The other woman’s eyes move towards the screens with information on their adversary and the papers around Nora. “Yeah, but this seems like a lot. It’s excessive, honestly.”

“I got to know him in Berlin. Even with the whole Mallus thing, he’s good deep down. I think he just needs someone to bring it out of him. After all, that’s what you guys did for me.”

Zari shakes her head. “You are very different than Ray, Nora.”

“You didn’t get to stay with him in Berlin for hours.”

That gets an eyebrow raise. “You aren’t falling for him, are you?”

“No,” Nora shakes her head. “I’m not.”

But it’s a lie. She’s not certain how much, but Nora Darhk knows she likes Ray Palmer.

~~~

              When she sees Ray again, Mallus’s control over him has grown. Black veins crawl across his skin when they lure him to Detroit 2023 to defeat him with the totems they’ve acquired. Things almost work out, but then Sandy double-crosses them to try and stop Mallus from totally consuming her son. Unfortunately, the act sets off a chain reaction to finally set Mallus free. Nora watches with the rest of the Legends as Ray falls to the ground, his body transforming into that of a demon’s.

She hopes he didn’t suffer too long at least.

~~~

              Her regret over not saving Ray eats her up, especially when Jonas nearly dies temporarily scattering Mallus. While Joey hauls him off to the med bay, Nora slips off to where they have Sandy imprisoned to propose an idea of rescuing Ray. Sandy is immediately on board if it means saving her son. With that back-up, Nora prepares the jumpship and they almost sneak out unnoticed.

She does feel a little bad about punching Ronnie. But he’s always been pretty forgiving, so he probably won’t hold it against her very long.

              When they make it to 2023, Nora and Sandy have to wait for a little while before they can go after Ray. A shot from the anti-magic gun does the trick, but Mallus still needs a host vessel. Sandy sacrifices herself for her son and tells Nora to get Ray to safety. Ray’s barely conscious as she helps him back to the jumpship. It’s probably for the best so he doesn’t see his mother turn into a demon.

              She manages to pilot both of them back to where the Waverider is in the Old West and gets Ray to the med bay in the nick of time. Her hands can’t help but shake as she loads the cure for her weapon into the syringe, hoping she isn’t too late. Thank goodness she isn’t, although it does take a moment for Ray to wake up. As soon as she does, he starts panicking at the change in surroundings.

“Ray, look at me,” she orders. “You’re okay. I’ve got you on the Waverider, and you’re safe.”

“Mom…where is she?”

Nora swallows. “She traded places with you, Ray. She took on the role as the vessel. It was to save you.”

“Is she…”

“She’s gone,” Nora nods. “I’m sorry, Ray.”

“No,” Ray shakes his head. “How could you let that happen to her? Why would you do that?”

He tries to get out of the chair, but Nora wraps her arms around him to push him back down. It’s a struggle, but he’s still weak from what he just went though and stops fighting as grief sets in. In that moment, Nora flashes back to when she found out from a social worker that her parents had been killed and that they were doing something terrible. She knows how it feels to love someone that the rest of the world saw as evil.

When she lets go of him, he’s shaking a little. Nora cups the sides of his face and presses her forehead against his. She feels his hands cover hers and they stay like that for a while. The whole world falls away for just a few minutes.

Then she remembers why they’re in the old West.

~~~

              In the end, Mallus is defeated. Joey, Zari, Ronnie, Martina, Zoe, and Mari come together to form a giant Beebo that destroys the demon. Nora watches the spectacle with Ray, Jonas, and Amaya McCabe with amazement. She’s long accepted that time travel can and will get weird. The look on Ray’s face says that he hasn’t gotten to that point yet.

              The defeat of the released demon has the Time Bureau coming in to round up the pirates, Romans, and Vikings Mallus brought as his army. It also means that Ray Palmer gets arrested for his crimes in aiding the rise of Mallus. He doesn’t put up a fight when they slap the cuffs on him. The grief of losing his father and knowing he’s going to be imprisoned for a long time have sucked the resistance out of him.

Before she can be brought back to the Bureau’s headquarters, she decides that if she’s going to do something, now is the time.

“Hang on!” she calls, running up to the agents escorting Ray off. “I need to talk to him.”

Ray looks surprised as he turns around. The agents with him share the expression.

“Give me a minute with him alone,” she asks. “It’s not like he’s going anywhere in those handcuffs.”

With that logic, the agents nod and take a few steps back.

“Come to say goodbye?” Ray asks.

“Sort of, but I also have something for you. It was on the jumpship. I know it was your mom’s. After losing her, I thought you want might something to hold onto that you can remember her by.”

“I’m going to be spending a long time in a cell in the Time Bureau. I think I’m going to be remembering her a lot since she’s the reason I’m still alive.”

Nora smiles. “Maybe this will help too.”

She draws a few steps closer to him and passes him Sandy’s time stone.

Ray’s eyes widen. “My mom’s time stone?”

“She died so you could have a second chance, Ray,” Nora tells him. “Second chances are pretty rare, so don’t waste it.”

His eyes meet hers as the agents step forward to take him away. “Thank you, Nora.”

Then a smile comes to his face. It makes hers spread a little bigger.

With Mallus gone from his life, perhaps this second chance will let Ray Palmer show time that he has good inside him. No one needs to find out that she’s the one who gave him that opportunity though.

If he takes it, she hopes she’ll see him again.