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stillthewordgirl · 7 years ago

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LOT/CC fic: Kruos (Ch. 2 of 5)

What if....the Time Masters took Leonard to be a bounty hunter instead of Mick?

CaptainCanary. As always. Can also be read here on AO3 or here on FF.net.

Many thanks to @larielromeniel, who helped me make this a much better chapter. Can also be read here on FF.net or here on AO3.

The bounty hunter is holding his gun on her, point blank, and if he fires, she's ice; there's no getting around it. She's dead again and Leonard's gone, there's no going back...

He doesn't shoot. He continues to hold the gun on her, and they stare at each other. After a few seconds that feel like years, the figure taps a button on the side of its helmet, and the visor rises and...

It's him. It's him. Her brain is screaming at her to run, while her heart... Sara takes a deep breath, looking into icy blue eyes, taking in familiar features, that damned widow’s peak, and an enigmatic expression.

There’s a tiny “v” between his brows, and she has the sudden strong conviction that this is a man at war with himself, and just maybe, the snarky SOB she knew is in there. Someone comes up behind her, and she recognizes the whiff of smoke that always seems to follow Mick, but she keeps her eyes on Leonard.

"Len," she whispers, taking a step closer. "It's me. Sara. Remember?" Another step. "We played cards. Fought together. I stole you a bottle of Rip's scotch as a thank you after...Russia."

He blinks. Such a small gesture. So much in it.

Sara hears another intake of breath behind her: Rip. "This is…keep talking," he whispers.

"You told me about your sister. Lisa. I told you about mine. Laurel. We..."

There's a shadow behind him, suddenly, but he's too focused on Sara to notice it...until Kendra lunges around his side and jabs a hypodermic needle into the exposed flesh of his neck.

The gun jerks, and Sara flings herself to the ground, halfway expecting an icy blast before whatever drug can take effect, but one never comes. Instead, the gun falls from twitching fingers as Leonard Snart--Kruos--falls to his knees, blinking again. His eyes light on something behind her, and he frowns.

"Mick?" he asks, confusion plain in his tone as he stares at his partner. "What the hell?"

His eyes go back to Sara, and he shakes his head, pain crossing his features--and then he collapses the rest of the way, landing in the dirt with an anticlimactic thud.

Kendra looks at Sara, uncertainty in her eyes and the needle still in her hand. Sara climbs back to her feet as Mick walks up to them both and they stand, staring down at the armored figure that used to be a teammate.

Since no one knows if it's Kruos or Snart who's going to wake up, they put him in the brig, with full security measures, and set up a full-time rotation to keep an eye on him.

Mick and Sara undertake the touchy job of removing his armor, piece by piece, eluding a few traps and weapons with Gideon's help and finally exposing one still-unconscious Leonard Snart, clad only in a black jumpsuit, sprawled on the floor of the brig.

And no one's sure when the drug Kendra had fetched from the Waverider will wear off—Rip mentions something about bounty hunters being able to burn things off quicker than most—so the medbay is out of the question. Gideon runs the best scan she can where he is, giving him a clean bill of health. Although his brainwaves are erratic, she says, and if an AI can sound troubled...well, she manages.

No one's sure what that means.

Standing outside the brig, watching the still form therein, Sara decides she's really, really sick of no one being sure.

It's Ray who's on watch when he wakes a few hours later...and it's Kruos, not Snart, whose eyes snap open, whose icy blue gaze assesses his surroundings…and who, apparently, is armed with commands that can override Waverider systems. Ignoring the watcher, he barks one at the door, which actually starts to slide open before Ray, panicking, hits him right in the face with one of the weapons on his Atom suit before calling for help.

It's Leonard, however, who wakes up next, groggily asking for the number of that truck and blinking at the team as they all peer back through the clear walls of the brig. Gideon gives them a painkiller that Sara slips through the food hatch on the cell, and Leonard accepts it, propping himself up against the wall and staring at her until she glances away, flushing.

He answers questions readily enough. Yes, the Time Masters had turned him into a bounty hunter. It’d been a long time, for him. (“A really long time,” he repeats, bleakly, then refuses to say anything more about that.) He remembers his time as Kruos, but when he was Kruos, he didn’t recognize the team as anything other than an enemy.

He says he’s not sure what knocked him out of it. (Although he doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes as he says it.) And he’s not sure if his Kruos-self is still there, waiting to come back.

“Then, what do we do?” Ray asks plaintively. “We can’t just keep him in here.”

Rip sighs, rising from where he’d been sitting and firing questions at Leonard. “I don’t know, Dr. Palmer.”

“You should probably just shoot me in the head and dump me in the field,” Leonard points out. “Get a head start before…”

“Shut up,” Sara snaps at him, startling them all and interrupting Jax's own protest and Mick’s more profane version of the same thing. She glares at Leonard. “That’s not happening.”

Rip doesn’t argue with her, but he does look conflicted. He looks at Leonard, who shrugs, and then back at the other members of the team.

"The Time Masters...well, I've told you a little about how they pick up children from throughout time, orphans, those who will not be missed, to train to join them. The bounty hunters...well it's something of the same thing. But in their case, we're talking about grown men and women, generally with a … a grudge, let's say, against their fellow man, or at least a group in particular. The tough yet...mentally malleable." Rip shakes his head. "They went against their pattern when they grabbed Mr. Snart. No offense, Mr. Rory, but you'd be far more likely to fit their usual parameters."

Mick grunts. "None taken. And, yeah," he points out to Stein, who's opened his mouth, "I do know what that means."

"His name was Declan", Snart interrupts wearily from where he's still slumped against the wall. "Ain't gonna forget it. He seemed to have a...stake in the matter. Really invested."

Rip lets loose with an oath that makes the rest of the team stare at him in shock. (Mick, after a startled moment, slaps him on the back in appreciation.)

"Declan," Rip says with distaste, "considers himself...an artist. Of a sort. And he’s always wanted to use his…tricks…to subvert someone a bit more strong-minded than the usual run, whereas the others preferred more of a…sure thing. It seems you, Mr. Snart, were the ideal guinea pig for his induction process.”

“Peachy.” The crook sounds a little more like himself, sitting up and rolling his eyes. “I’m special. Yay. Doesn’t change the fact I’m also a ticking time bomb.”

Mick swears again, staring at him. “Did they…”

“No, not literally. I’d be dead already if that was the case.” He frowns. “I think. No, even the Time Bastards drew the line at putting bombs in their operatives.” A wry look crosses his face. “Yet another time Lewis Snart was more evil than the other bad guys.”

Sara swallows the urge to reach out to him. “Then…”

“I fought back. But that doesn’t mean I won for good. If you’re not going to do the wise thing and off me, I can’t promise you I won’t turn back into Kruos at any time.” His voice is cold, sharp. “I need to stay in here.”

Rip’s saying something in the background, but Sara’s not listening. She's watching Leonard, who's looking rather intently back at her, and this time it's not just Mick who notices their expressions.

"You're not the only one with a demon," she tells him, finally. "I happen to have some experience fighting them. Stay in there for now...but you can beat this."

He smiles, and this times it actually touches his eyes a little. "Making me a project, Sara?"

"Trying to save your life, jerk. Even though you don't seem to want it saved."

"There is one thing." Gideon's voice sounds tentative. "Mr. Snart's brainwaves, as I said earlier, were erratic when he was first brought on board. They are much more stable now, and nearly a match for the baseline scans I have from before."

"What are you saying, Gideon?" Rip asks wearily, as Leonard's low "You took brainwave scans of us?" attracts everyone's attention in the background.

"I will monitor his brainwaves," the AI says simply. "If there is a high degree of instability, I will warn you. That is all."

"Well, at least that's sort of an early warning system," Ray says, obviously trying to sound upbeat. "And the brig's secure now. Right?"

"Unless I...he...has some other tricks up his sleeve, Boy Scout," Leonard points out.

"Well, wouldn't you know?" Kendra asks him.

"No." There's so much frustration in that word that every eye is drawn back to him again. "I don't know. That's the part that's pissing me off."

And the room is silent once more.

"You guys forgave me," Mick points out eventually, his voice a low rumble, as if he's regretting his words already. "And Snart didn't actually hurt anyone."

("Not on the team," the crook mutters. Only Sara hears him.)

"Yes, but you made a conscious decision, both to do that, and to make amends." Rip sighs. "Mr. Snart is a vict..."

"Don't say it." Leonard's voice is low and dangerous and the former Time Master stops mid-word.

"Right," he says, after a moment. "Well, I think it's unanimous—with the possible exception of Mr. Snart himself—that we're giving this a try."

"You're making a mistake," Leonard tells him flatly.

"Well, it's our mistake to make," Rip responds, turning for the door. "Let's get into the time stream. I have some things to look into for our next destination."

The rest of the team dutifully files through the door, a few with promises to come back later. Mick and Leonard hold what appears to be a staring contest for a few long minutes before Mick shakes his head and turns for the exit as well.

Which leaves Sara, who's still sitting on a bench, watching him.

"You left some things out," she says after a moment.

"Left a lot of things out." He stretches, then casts about a minute, looking for a way to strap down during the time jump.

"I'm sure. But what I'm wondering is this: you're not...what did Rip say? Mentally malleable?" She leans forward. "The Leonard Snart I know would have fought them until his brain was mush, would have died before giving in. So what happened?"

She sees a flicker of surprise in his eyes before the shutters go down a little more. "Maybe they just broke me."

"I don't believe it."

"It's all you're getting."

"Ms. Lance," Gideon breaks in, "Captain Hunter is requesting your presence on the bridge for departure. Mr. Snart, you'll find straps to your left, recessed into the wall."

Sara stands with a sigh. "We'll talk later," she informs him. "I'm not leaving this alone."

She exits, then, and Leonard, shaking his head, finds the straps, readying himself for the jump.

"Peachy," he sigh, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. "Here we go."

Once they're safely in the time stream, Rip vanishes into his study. Sara, smiling a little to herself, watches a steady procession of people in and out of the brig, most of them bearing offerings such as food or books.

It's probably the best thing possible, she thinks, that Leonard sees that the team wants him to beat this, wants him back. And indeed, when she finally strolls into the brig later, he's holding a book—a graphic novel, probably from Jax—with a very thoughtful look on his face.

It turns into sardonic humor when he sees her. He puts the book down and leans back, watching her.

"So what'd you bring me?" he drawls, eyeing her up and down. "Seems like everyone thinks I'm going to starve to death in here, or die of boredom, or maybe just waste away from lack of interaction."

"Be nice," she tells him, taking a seat. "Just me."

"Hmm. Good enough." There's flirtation in his tone, and she smiles, recognizing the attempt at distraction for what it is.

"I still want to know what happened," she informs him. "I'm not letting it go, Leonard."

That gets a snort that manages to convey agreement and annoyance at the same time. He studies her another moment, then sighs.

"Not a word to anyone else."

"Not unless it's really important for some reason."

Leonard accepts that with a shrug.

"They were going to drop me back where they'd taken me," he says finally, "and take Mick. A bit later, so he was starving, and desperate."

Sara sits back and he can see the surprise on her face. "Because they thought they could break him?"

"Because they thought they wouldn't have to. Not in the same way, anyway. They wanted to leverage his hate for the team at that moment, his hate for me. He'd have gone into it without a backward glance, and he'd have stopped at nothing to burn this team to the ground. And not just y...the team. Anyone we cared about. Like I said before. My sister. Your sister."

His voice is flat, and Sara has the feeling he's remembering the sort of things anyone would prefer to forget. "You...sacrificed yourself to prevent that," she whispers.

An irritable shrug. "I had the means to resist. Mick didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"Mick was pissed; he wouldn't have thought beyond that, at least not to start. And there's a lot less..." He pauses, considers his words. "...self-worth there."

"Yes, yes, we all know you're an egotistical asshole." The insult lightens the mood just a little, and he actually smirks at her before going serious again.

"Mick thinks he's got nothing," he says tersely. "He'd have given in, if he thought he could get some revenge."

Sara watches him. "And what do you have, Leonard?"

He tilts his head, watching her in return. "My sister. Mick, as far as it goes. I told you about juvie."

"And?" She’s not sure why she's pressing it.

A long pause. "Well. I have to stick around to tell that smug bastard Barry Allen what I think of this hero gig."

Another pause. "...I suppose I'd miss you...our card games." He studies his nails, avoiding her eyes. "I don't know about the rest of these losers."

"Uh huh."

They both start as Rip's voice interrupts, calling the team to a meeting on the bridge. Sara rises with a sigh, glances at the crook, who's still avoiding her eyes, and turns to go.

"Sara," he says, "wait!"

She turns to look at him; Leonard suddenly finds the wall over her head extremely interesting again.

"Bring the cards next time?" he says diffidently.

"I'll do that."

"Next time" doesn't come for longer than they'd both like. Rip's decided to take the ship to 2147, a time he asserts is very dangerous for all of them, and that needs to be hashed over in multiple ways until Sara's sick of all the talk, talk, talk.

Leonard wakes up the next morning disorientated and raving. He tries to jimmy the door, but there’s no Time Master trickery involved this time around, just a desperate locked-in crook who comes to his senses after Jax, who’s keeping an eye on him, improvises and dumps some ice water on his head.

But Sara doesn’t find out about that incident until later.

By the time she manages more than just a quick look-in, they’ve made the jump and landed in the future, and had their first look around. She feels guilty at the site of Leonard slumped in his cell again, clearly bored out of his mind.

He perks up as he sees her, and smirks as she waves the deck of cards at him.

“Where are we?” he asks her casually as she starts to deal, taking a chance and opening the food slot just a little wider. “And when. Gideon warned me about the jump, but nothing more.”

“2147. Kasnia Conglomerate. You'd hate it; no crime.”

"The future, eh? Thought that was a no no. Why?"

Sara hesitates, then tells him, about Savage, and Per Degaton, and choices they need to make.

"So what's to talk about? If the little rat’s really going to be responsible for that many deaths, do it. Save a bunch of other kids who might not grow up to be mass murderers.” He looks up at her silence and shrugs. “That's not him. It's me. I don't have many illusions about kids. Juvie, remember? Those little assholes would have knifed me and left me to bleed to death in the yard. If not for Mick.”

Sara doesn’t really want to talk about Per Degaton, and she’s been looking for a segue anyway, so she seizes on the last comment.

"So why aren't you talking to him?" she says, taking a card. "I know he's been in here a couple of times. Says you'll barely look at him. It really bothers him."

Len grunts, discarding a card. "It's bad enough talking to you," he says, his tone saying otherwise. "I don't want him figuring some things out. Mick doesn't do well with feelings."

"What about your feelings?"

"About you?"

She glances up at those quiet words, a retort about trying to distract her on her lips, only to be confronted by a look that's so intense she's speechless for a moment. Then he looks away, and she takes a breath, giving him a smile.

"About Mick."

"I have no feelings about Mick." But his tone is tense, now, and his hands are gripping the cards so tightly that they bend. It's probably not wise, but she decides to press again.

"You said you had people, and Mick thought he didn't," she points out. "Isn't Mick one of your people?"

"Mick...is the reason I'm in here." He's trying for anger, but it's simply emerging as sullenness.

"So...what? You don't want him to know you did it for him?"

"I didn't..." He stops himself. "Not just him."

"Look, I get it. You guys don't do feelings." Sara sighs. "You'd probably rather, I don't know, do something stupid and 'manly' like beat each other up rather than talk about them. But he's feeling guilty and you're obviously having issues with it too. So stop being an ass, and deal with it."

She sets her cards down then and smiles at him. "Gin."

#captain canary #kruos #sara lance #leonard snart #legends of tomorrow

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