#catharsis is real and so is my crooked spine

[reverseblackholeofwords]

"Write what you know," I whisper as I decide which of my current OC's to gift my chronic back pain and seasonal depression because 'tis the season.

[stillthewordgirl]

CC fic (with a pic): Second Chances

When a new version of Leonard joins Team Legends for a time, Sara's reluctant to get to know him. But when they're stuck together after a mission gone wrong, a conversation just might have to happen...

For the @ccficwithapic challenge. To be paired with artwork by @pillie-biper10​ :) Words used were "grasp," "fumble," and "capsule."

This version of Snart isn't quite the comics New 52 version, but he was definitely inspired by him! 

Story can also be read here at AO3.

***

“And sometimes, against all odds, against all logic, we hope.” 

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"I'm afraid not, Captain Lance." Gideon's voice is low; her tone a trifle subdued. "We have not yet been able to identify the substances released when you and Mr. Snart were in the lab. And given some of the others still secured that we have identified, you need to remain in quarantine until we are certain you were not exposed to something dangerous. And contagious."

Sara stares through the clear wall of the brig—which can apparently be completely locked down to contain even microscopic intruders--at Ray, who gives her a mournful look back. As well he should, since it's his goof that's landed her in here with...with a man who's not who he says he is, no matter how many times he says it or what the rest of the team thinks.

Which is probably not what she should really be concerned about right now. "How worried should I be about this?"

"Not that worried, Captain." Gideon sounds rather tentative. "I have treatments for anything you might have been exposed to. I think. But some of them take a while to show symptoms, or even test results, so..."

"I'm sorry," Ray finally says, again. "Sara, really. I just..." He holds his hands, now free of the ATOM suit, out before him. "The capsule, it just slipped out of my grasp. I tried to catch it before it could knock over the others, but..."

"But that's when all the bad guys came through the door. I get it, Ray." Sara shakes her head at him. "You're just lucky you had your visor down and aren't stuck in here too."

"Yeah, especially since he's the one who fumbled everything," Mick points out as he ambles in behind Ray. "You two both kept hold of yours, even through the fight. Still feelin' OK? Not gonna keel over on us?"

Sara rolls her eyes at him and Mick grins at her, then looks past her. "Bos... Snart? Still alive back there?"

Sara winces, but the man sprawled out on a cot behind her chuckles.

"Yes, Mick," he drawls as she turns, almost against her will, to glance at him. "Still kickin'. No thanks to the Boy Scout here."

"I said I was sorry..." Ray starts again, as Mick laughs and Sara closes her eyes in a "give me strength" sort of gesture.

"Enough," she says, cutting him off. "Gideon, how long do we have to stay in here?"

The pause is just long enough that she frowns, casting her eyes upward as they all sometimes tend to do when addressing the AI. "Gideon?"

"I...am not sure," Gideon tells her, hastily adding, "but 12 hours should be sufficient for either conclusive symptoms or test results. Or...maybe a little more?"

It's oddly nonspecific coming from the AI, but Sara shakes her head, looking at Ray and Mick to commiserate.

They're both wearing odd expressions. Ray looks guilty...well, he is responsible for this. Mick looks...smug? Sara frowns at him and he wipes the expression off his face, then turns quickly for the door, tossing a quick "Don't hurt each other" over his shoulder as he leaves.

"We'll check on you later," Ray says hastily, turning to follow. "And Gideon's keeping an eye on you. Right, Gideon?"

"Yes, Dr. Palmer."

As he hurries out, Sara sighs, then, setting her shoulders, turns and heads for the other cot in the room, ignoring the brig's other current inhabitant. That doesn't mean, however, that she doesn't feel his eyes on her as she sits down, then stretches out on the cot.

She closes her eyes, ignoring him.

When Gideon had detected an odd temporal signature several weeks ago (Waverider time) in 2020 National City, the team had gone to investigate...only to find not a mere anachronism, someone or something out of time...but one Leonard Snart, apparently out of time and out of whatever alternate Earth had spawned him.

And with ice powers, with which he'd actually managed to startle them all before realizing they weren't attacking.

Of all of them, he'd recognized only Mick (from whom he'd seemed to expect violence) and Ray. He'd frowned curiously at Firestorm, but only commented "You look a bit different on my Earth."

He'd stared at her with interest, but no sign of recognition at all. Sara's still pretending that hadn't hurt, but she's used to it now, after all.

Gideon and Jax were still trying to figure out how to get him home to his Earth—which is, Gideon had asserted, theoretically possible for the Waverider. Sara'd wanted to simply drop him off in Central City and let Team Flash figure it out, but Ray (and Mick, to be honest) had given her the puppy dog eyes and she'd allowed that they could at least make an attempt—and let him stay in the meantime.

That, she thinks now, had been a mistake.

No, this isn't the Snart they'd known before, and it's not the asshole from the Legion. This one's a bit more open, a little more communicative and even more openly snarky. And he is, if he can be believed, an actual hero, although he'd visibly cringed when admitting it—and that'd reminded her more of her...of the original Leonard than anything else he'd done.

He'd been a crook in the past—master crook, he’d told them quite proudly--but now he's a member of something called the Justice League, and although he mutters about "those damned heroes," no one’s buying his complaints for an instant. His actions here have shown otherwise.

He fits in with the team far better than that other Leonard had, at least at first. Maybe if he'd had time, that one would have grown into this one. But Sara doesn’t think so.

And she’d rather have the old one back, anyway.

She thinks, sometimes, that she’s the only one. This Snart’s just so much more easygoing. He lets Ray chatter at him; openly treats Jax like a little brother and talks to Stein about books and history. He's even managed to charm Amaya and Zari. (Though he pretty much ignores Nate.)

Mick, whom Sara'd expected to react much as she has, simply seems so glad to have a Leonard Snart (one who doesn't want to kill him or the team) back in his life. And this new Snart, who'd had some sort of falling out with the Mick on his Earth, seems pleased to have his old partner back. Sara, lingering in the hallway and listening to them talk--and missing the way things used to be between the three of them--wishes she could feel the same.

But.

She opens her eyes, then turns her head and regards the man on the other cot, who's lying there with his eyes closed. He's wearing the same outfit he'd had on when they'd first picked him up, a sleeveless black jumpsuit with a white-and-blue hooded garment over it. It's also sleeveless, given that his powers tend to ice up not only his hands but his forearms. She'd never seen the real Leonard show remotely that much skin.

They're very nice arms, really, she thinks, studying them for a moment, then lets her eyes drift back to his face.

And he's looking right at her.

Damnit.

Leonard—Len, he's told them to call him Len--lets a few moments pass, his eyes boring into her, a strange expression on his face. Sara frowns and stubbornly refuses to look away. She has, she thinks with a sigh, done that a little too often lately.

"So...Birdy," he says finally, his voice low and intense and sending a shiver down her spine. "Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you," Sara responds reflexively, looking away just as reflexively, then back.

“Uh, huh.” He snorts, but his eyes don’t leave hers. “Everyone else on this team thinks I’m the second coming of this hero Leonard Snart that saved time, and all your lives…”

“He wasn’t a hero.”

Len blinks at her, but he doesn’t say anything, in a clear bid for her to continue. Sara’s already regretting her impulsive words, but she knows he’s not going to just let them lie.

“He’d have hated that,” she tells him. “Being called a hero. I mean…I guess he was, but…” Her voice trails off. "He wasn't like you, he was...I mean..."

She's normally not at a loss for words, but she can't quite seem to find the right ones here. She sighs, then casts her eyes back up toward the ceiling, thinking.

"You were friends," she hears him say, his voice still low. "You and the other me. Mick told me."

"Yeah."

They both let the silence stretch a little longer.

"More?" he asks, and there's an odd note in his tone, one she can't quite place. "More than friends?"

It still hurts to think about it. And she's let that show to no one else, not even Mick, carried it for so long now that she thinks that that pain will always be a part of her.

"Not quite," she says, still staring at the ceiling. "We could have been, I mean...but then he died and..."

Sara rolls back onto her side and stares at Len, who's staring patiently back at her.

"I liked that he wasn't a hero," she tells him, the words spilling out, catharsis painful and cleansing in equal measure. "He understood me, probably better than anyone else here. He understood the battle. Hell, he had his own. He wasn't perfect, he was an asshole and a jerk and he held the goddamned cold gun on me, trying to save me at the Vanishing Point and I still hadn't forgiven him when..."

She stops, draws in a long, shaky breath, then looks at Len again. He's just looking back at her, that almost soft, questioning look still in his eyes, just like when...

"No, Len, he was not a hero," she tells him quietly. "And then he turned into one and it got him killed."

Her words are followed by silence as he considers her. Sara refuses to look away, though, now that she's gotten the words out.

Finally, Len sighs.

"And you blame me," he says quietly, "for...what? Being what he didn't get a chance to be?"

But Sara's shaking her head. "That'd be stupid," she retorts quickly. "I...don't know. I guess...he fought so hard, and then he died, and here you are...you didn't have to fight, you weren't there in Russia, in the '50s, at the Vanishing Point, you don't know..."

The bark of laughter startles her so much that Sara sits up on the cot, staring at him. Len shakes his head, still lying back on the bunk, eyes closed and mouth twisted as if in pain.

"I didn't have to fight, huh?" he asks, both humor and bitterness in his tone. "No, you just didn't see it. Most of the league still thinks I'm an asshole who's going to go back to icing the Flash at the merest opportunity, someone who needs to be to watched at all times. I dunno, maybe they're right, but...."

They both let the silence stretch again. Sara's gripping the edge of her cot and watching him, starting to understand, just a little, this man who's landed on the Waverider with them. No less complicated than the Snart she'd...oh, just think it...cared for before, after all.

Finally, Len sighs.

"Your team, they get it," he mutters to the ceiling. "They don't want me to be...perfect. They don't blame me for not being that way, for having...history." He shakes his head, then sits up to match her, eyes on hers, and she's startled by the expression in his eyes, the depth of emotion his counterpart had always kept so pent up.

"I feel...at home here," he says quietly. "Oddly enough. I'd even stay if I could, but I...well, I got promises to keep, back there. Just wanna enjoy this while it lasts."

How can she not understand that? That feeling of finding family, of a niche, where people aren't looking at you sideways for having your demons. Even this team wasn't like that originally, but they've grown into it, and she can understand so, so well...

Impulsively, Sara climbs to her feet and crosses the narrow width of the brig, sitting down next to Len, who eyes her, but doesn't move away.

"I'm sorry," she says, daring to do something it'd taken Leonard months to allow and putting a hand on his forearm. (She feels the muscles tense, but he doesn't flinch.) "I get that...the people watching you, just waiting for you to...to lose it, to explode, to step out of line. I used to feel like that." A deep breath. "There are days that, deep down, I still do."

He regards her a moment, then smiles, just a little.

"Yeah," he says, "I knew you'd get it. Just had a feelin'."

For a while, they just sit there, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Sara sighs, and speaks again.

"OK," she admits, "maybe I should have given you more of a chance. I'm sorry."

"How much of a chance?"

Sara blinks at him. In contrast to the seriousness of their conversation, there's a note of...oh, yes, that's definitely flirtation there. Something almost playful, in a way Leonard rarely managed. And interest, oh yes...

And hope.

"Don't push it," she warns, but she can't keep the edge of playfulness from her tone either. They'd also flirted, just a bit, and it's so easy to slip back into...

"Dinner."

Sara blinks again. "What?"

"Next time we're in a time where we can have a little spare, well, time. Can I take you to dinner?" Len shrugs, smirk hovering around the corners of his mouth, something warm in his eyes that she can't help responding to. "Get outta of the ship, talk a little more, see Sara Lance instead of Captain Lance."

He tilts his head and considers her. "'Cause I really think she's pretty amazing, too."

Sara stares at him.

"Are you asking me on a date?" she manages finally.

"I know, I know, it's sort of weird." He snorts and looks around the brig. "I mean, we're still waiting to see if we're going to come down with something vile and deadly, and up until 15 minutes or so ago, you wouldn't even talk to me, but...."

A glance back at her. A warm, intent gaze that—yeah, it does pretty remarkable things to her, that gaze. Even from this Snart.

"We'll see," she tells him, smiling, "after Gideon clears us. And if we ever find the time of which you speak."

"S'all I ask." Len leans back and smirks at her.

He's not Leonard. He'll never be Leonard. But he's here and they have so much in common, more even than before.

And it'd be such a pity to waste more time.

"Now, do you," she says, looking him in the eyes and making a decision, "like to play cards?"

"Gideon?"

"They are playing cards, Dr. Palmer." The AI sounds pleased. "And they've been talking. I think differences have...if not quite resolved, then at least dealt with. And they are quite thoroughly engaged in what you humans call 'flirting,' as I understand it..."

Jax, who'd rounded the corner into the medbay just in time to hear Mick's bark of laughter and Gideon's last sentence, shakes his head at them.

"Why aren't we a little more concerned with, like, the chances of them dying a slow and painful death by smallpox or something?" the younger man points out. "Yeah, I wanna see Sara admit Len's a pretty decent guy too...but..."

"I was able to clear the captain and Mr. Snart medically within 30 minutes after their arrival back at the ship." The AI's tone is a little prim, as Mick and Ray snicker a little. "But I agreed with Mr. Rory and Mr. Palmer that they needed to...what did Mr. Rory say? 'Get their shit together and deal with it.' This seemed like a valid way to push them to do so."

Jax shakes his head, eyeing his two teammates and then casting his eyes upward.

"Gideon, you've been hanging around this crew too long," he says with a laugh. "That's pretty damned sneaky."

"Thank you, Mr. Jackson...I think?"

Now I might just have to write that dinner date...