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some-days-we-get-sundays · 3 years

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Rip must have known Sara had real feelings for Ava because otherwise he wouldn’t have been so worried about Sara finding out about Ava being a clone...

My obsessing over Avalance always pays off as I’m constantly noticing different things. I wanted to write a short fic about Sara having to explain to Rip how much Ava means to her. Even though, Canon- Rip knew how Sara felt because he wouldn’t have been tripping about it if he thought Ava was just a one night stand. Zari comforting Sara, asshole Rip and some angst. Basically this is a deleted scene. Enjoy...

After the kiss in Sara’s office, Ava reassuring her that they would get Ray back, Ava opened up a portal back into the time bureau and she was gone. Sara spun on her heel.

“RIP! Don’t think I didn’t see you.” Rip had his back turned hoping he could quickly walk off until Sara’s voice stopped him in his tracks. He wished he’d used his time courier to zap himself some place- any place that was not here having to deal with the wrath of Sara Lance. He walked into her office.

“Ah, Ms. Lance.” Rip tried for causal even though Sara could read right though it.

“Why were you spying on me and Ava.” Sara glared at him with icy blue eyes, unwavering.

“Ms. Lance, I know you have an affinity for sleeping with beautiful women of the past, present and future but, tread lightly with Agent Sharpe.” Sara’s cheeks tinted and she pursed her lips. This thing between her and Ava was new, and sure she had slept with a ton of women, and men, and they never spoke to each other again as she jumped in her time ship and traveled away but Ava was... Ava was different. Sara didn’t want to travel away from her. She wanted to be closer to Ava. She wanted to wake up to her in the mornings, she wanted to have breakfast with her and the other Legends, she wanted to stand in impossibly long lines for the bathroom with Ava next to her. She wanted to maybe move in with Ava in her apartment.

“Ms. Lance?”

“Rip, not that it’s any of your business but Ava is different. She’s special. I think there’s something real there.” Sara hated having to share any of this with Rip but she wanted him to know that Ava wasn’t just a hook up to her. “Why do you care anyways? Do you have some “no fraternizing with the enemies” bullshit policy?” Sara rolled her eyes.

“Well as a matter of fact-”

“Look. I really don’t care about any policies or rules, you should know this about me by now. I’m gonna do what I want, and who I want. Ava isn’t just some causal hook up or one night stand. I really like her. I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. I don’t know what you did or why you really don’t want me to see her but I don’t buy this, “we have a policy” crap.” Sara finished. She was getting upset now. Finally one good thing comes into her life and here comes Rip to take it away.

“Well Ms. Lance, if you feel that strongly about Agent Sharpe then I suggest you mind yourself and heed my advice. Stay away from her. If you care for Agent Sharpe in the way that you claim, then I doubt you would want to see her job on the line- seeing as you don’t care about your own, maybe you’ll care about hers.” Rip spat.

“Excuse me! Did you just tell me to stay away from her? First of all Rip, this is my ship and I’m the captain. You do not get to come on here and give orders. Second if Ava loses her job I will make it my personal mission to not only get her reinstated, but also make her the director of the time bureau and make sure that you are never allowed to set foot in the time bureau ever again, your days “fixing” time will be over, and then you can work at sink showers and stuff.” Sara smirked but there was no humor in her voice. “Do not threaten me, or the people I love. Do I make myself clear?” Sara was in Rips face now, even though she was much shorter, her venomous tone made up for what she lacked in height. She had Rip backed against the wall. He put his hands up in surrender.

“Alright Ms. Lance,” Rip pushed past her to try to gain the upper hand or at least be on equal footing. He hadn’t ever heard Sara use the word love before when it came to the people she was sleeping with. He realized he was in deeper than he thought. Sara was upset, how will she be if she finds out about who Agent Sharpe really is. He contemplated just telling her. And then he thought of a better idea. Gideon still listened to him, she trusted him. When Sara and the rest of the team weren’t around, he’d just have a chat with Gideon about it and get her to erase some things. Rip got his bearings back and smiled to himself at his plan.

“Rip! Do I make myself clear.” Sara was still seething.

“Yes. Yes, Captain Lance. We’re clear.” And with that Rip opened a portal on his time courier and he was gone. Sara let out a breath and then poured herself some scotch. Then she took a sip and threw the rest of it at the wall in frustration. And then she started to cry. She hated that Ray was missing, she hated that Rip came and ruined the small high that she was on after seeing Ava. She hated, absolutely hated that Rip had the audacity to threaten Ava and Ava’s job! Screw him. And screw the whole damn bureau. The only good thing about that place was that it brought Ava to her. Sara smiled at the thought of Ava, at the thought of Ava’s lips softly on hers, at the way she smelled like essential oils, usually lavender. And whatever brand of shampoo Ava used, Sara loved the whiff of it that would entice her senses whenever Ava was near her.

“You alright in here Cap?” Sara looked up to see Zari cautiously entering Sara’s office. She picked up a piece of jagged broken glass, looked at it and then tossed it in the trash. She watched Sara pour herself a new glass.

“I’m fine.” Sara put the glass to her lips and threw her head back taking a shot.

“Did something happen with Ava?” Zari asked cautiously. She didn’t want to risk further upsetting Sara.

“Why would you think that?” Sara asked.

“Well, whenever you get all emotional or whatever, it’s usually because of Ava. You really like her don’t you?”

“Of course I do! Why does everybody keep insinuating that my love for Ava isn’t real! It’s the realest thing I’ve felt since being brought back to life.” Sara downed another glass and slammed it on the table. Zari was pretty used to Sara’s temper so she wasn’t that scared off.

“Your love, for Ava? You love her.” Zari said this as more of an observation than a question. Sara sat down in her chair and put her head in her hands.

“Z, I don’t know if I love Ava. But I know she’s the most important thing to me right now besides you guys. I haven’t felt this way since Nyssa and maybe that nurse in the 50s. But Ava, she’s better than all of them. And now Rip- I’m, I’m afraid he’s gonna take this feeling away from me, take her away from me. And I don’t know why! He is the force that basically brought her into my life in the first place, and now he doesn’t want me to see her? How fucked up is that!” Zari came and kneeled next to Sara. She put her hand on Sara’s knee. “I don’t want to screw this up Z. I don’t want Rip to take Ava’s job from her-”

“So what. See her anyway. I know you Sara, you’re stubborn and a pain in the ass. You’re gonna do what you want if you think it’s the right thing, regardless of what anyone else thinks or what they threaten you with-” Zari started and Sara interrupted.

“But he’s not threatening me. He’s threatening Ava!”

“Exactly. And I’ve seen how you get when people you care about and love are in danger. You’re an animal girl.” Zari laughed. “You go after them, you go around them, or go through them, whatever it takes to get what you want and you’re gonna give them hell for fucking with people in your life. So if you care about Ava, which I can see that you do- I mean I did tell you to ask her out in the first place. So I guess you’re welcome and you have me to thank for-

“Zari, focus.”

“Right. Anyway, Sara I admire you so much. I love your courage and your strength. I know you’re not gonna give up on Ava just because some British twat says so. Screw Rip. Do what your heart tells you to do. Love is worth the risk.” Zari got up and put her hand lightly on top of Sara’s head in a comforting manner. Then she left. Sara sat in her chair for a while just thinking. She didn’t know what Rip was hiding about Ava or why he really didn’t want them together. But she was damn sure going to find out.

#avalance #ava sharpe #sara lance #zari tomaz

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sophiainspace · 4 years

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A Legends fic for Autistic Pride Day (Mick Rory & Sara Lance)

This grew beyond a ficlet (it’s 2k words), which is why it’s a day late for Autistic Pride Day. Hope you enjoy. (Canon-wise, this fic ignores the fact that Sara’s been abducted by aliens, because I couldn’t find any way around that.) I’ll probably put it on AO3 as its own fic. Enjoy.

A Place at the Table

That Saturday morning, Sara is awoken by a crash, over a yell that might be a Fuck!

“Gideon,” Sara hisses, trying not to wake Ava. “What was that?”

“That was Mick Rory, dropping a box of eggs in the galley, Captain,” Gideon replies, just as quietly.

Sara lets her head drop back against the headboard. “Of course it was.”

Beside her, Ava opens sleepy eyes. “He was fine yesterday,” she murmurs, yawning. “Want me to go and check on him?”

Sara shakes her head. “Thanks, babe. I got this.”

She can hear Mick’s muttering even all the way down the hall. As she turns into the galley, there’s no sign of the broken eggs now. Mick’s standing at the stove, dumping a new batch into a frying pan.

“I see you’re really taking your frustration out on those shells, Mick.” She takes a step inside the galley. “Don’t blame the poor eggs for whatever the last ones did to hurt you.”

He pauses, mid-crack, to lift his eyes in her direction and grunt something unintelligible. Then he turns back to his frying pan.

So. That went well.

Sara takes another cautious step closer. It’s not just eggs that Mick is working on. He’s got pancakes browning in another pan, bacon in a third. “Cooking for the crew?” she asks, aiming for cheerful.

He just shrugs.

The sizzle of oil from multiple pans could be intentional, to deter anyone trying to get near him. It might take League of Assassins training to get past that armor, but Sara’s never been afraid of Mick or his posturing. She leans back against the counter, trying to catch his eye. Figuring out how to deal with their resident pyromanic has been a five-year mission all its own, one that Sara regrets she didn’t take more seriously at the beginning.

She’s not sure when it happened — but at some point during the past few years, Mick Rory became the glue that held this messy, broken family together. It took a lot longer for Sara to begin to understand what’s going on beneath his calloused surface, but she’s getting there. Usually, he’s cheerful when he cooks, or at least as close as Mick Rory gets. Right now he’s slumped over the stove so sadly that it hurts to watch.

“Mick,” she says again.

He keeps right on frying, but he almost smiles. “Ain’t gonna give up, are ya?”

She grins, taking the light tone as permission to reach over and pat him on the shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Dunno,” he says. Then, so quietly that Sara isn’t sure she’s heard right, he adds, “No one’s gonna want this.”

She feels herself frown at him. Then at the pan of eggs. “What, the food?”

A pause, a single nod, and he’s back to frying.

“Sure they will,” Sara says. “Who doesn’t like eggs and pancakes?”

Dumping a pancake out of the other pan, Mick scowls. “Was making these the way Haircut likes ‘em. I forgot.”

She looks back down at the stack of pancakes. They are indeed done Ray Palmer-style, so light they’ll be almost raw inside. She remembers passing on a few of those pancakes over the years, while Ray cheerfully finished the lot.

Sara is learning how to push past the solid walls Mick builds to keep out a confusing, dangerous world. But even with his family around him, people he can trust, he doesn’t always know how to unlock the doors of his own personal prison and let himself out. It can take time. She tries to give it to him, that Saturday morning. She sinks into the distant sound of Zari, Behrad and Nate waiting for the bathroom, just being the disaster Legends they are, at their usual volume. And waits for Mick to talk.

“They’re all gone,” Mick says, at last. Somewhere beneath his low rumble, he almost sounds forlorn.

Down the hall, a fight is breaking out over whose turn is next. Grimacing, Sara nods her head towards the door. “Doesn’t sound like it to me.”

Mick shrugs. “Not the same.”

He means it’s not the same team, she realizes, and suddenly it all falls into place. Her heart breaks a little for him.

Leonard Snart told her once, a long time ago, that Mick wasn’t good with change. It was something of an understatement. There’s been a lot of reconfiguring of their chaotic little family recently — new people, messy renegotiations of dynamics — but she thought Mick was doing okay with it. After Charlie left, he shut himself away in his room for a couple of days, but then he seemed to get over it.

If Ray Palmer was here, she’d make him lead some team building exercises, if only so Mick could roll his eyes and complain about them. But he’s not here, and that’s the problem.

Mick glares harder at the pan. “All the weird ones have gone.”

Sara tries not to laugh at that. If anything, the team’s only getting weirder by the day. But Mick seems to need her to listen, so she doesn’t interrupt.

He dumps the last of the food out of the pan, grabs the full plates and strides to the table. Sara follows him, ready to offer to help, but Mick just pauses at the table.

He moves slowly around its curve. “Zari,” he says, as he reaches the first empty chair, staring hard at it. Now that they’ve got their memories back, grieving the first Zari has been complicated for all them, knowing she isn’t really gone. Sometimes Sara passes the other Zari in the hallway, and she gets a bright flash of memory, checked shirts and donuts and sarcasm, clashing hard with the reality of her smiling friend. One more ghost haunting the halls of the Waverider, trailing after her flesh-and-blood counterpart. But Sara doesn’t think she’s heard Mick mention Zari Tomaz yet. She watches as he puts the piled-high plate of eggs down in front of the empty seat. He says, “Over easy with hot sauce on the side,” and frowns. “Hot sauce meant it didn’t remind her of home.”

Sara remembers, now that she can remember. The old Zari had eaten alone for weeks, after she first came onboard. Till Mick had started making her breakfast, working through a dozen new ways to serve it. Zari settled on eggs done in a way that worked for her, and that was how she ate them for the rest of her time on the Waverider. The term PTSD might not have been one either she or Mick would ever have said out loud, but he could relate enough to meet her on their common ground -- food.

Mick moves to the next chair, putting down the stack of pancakes. “Haircut.” He taps the back of the chair. All this talking from Mick Rory is such a rare event, especially when he’s upset, that Sara doesn’t interrupt. “He’d be freaking out now. Saying I didn’t get the pancakes right, or I should’ve set a timer so the eggs were done at the same time.” He glares at the chair. “Like he thought he was the only autistic person on this fucking ship.”

Sara tries not to laugh, and fails. She takes Mick’s very mild glare as a sign that it’s okay to answer now. “You miss him. And Zari.” The most obviously neurodivergent members of the team. She’s starting to see the pattern.

But the ship is still full of neurodivergent Legends. If Mick’s feeling alone… Well, he shouldn’t be.

But she thinks she’s catching on. She steps one seat ahead of Mick, placing a hand on the back of it. “Dr. Nate Heywood,” she says. “He’s got ADHD, remember? Hard to forget, when he’s playing that awful music at full blast anytime he can’t concentrate, till my brain starts dripping out of my ears.” She drops into to a conspiratorial tone. “I found him in the cargo bay having a meltdown last week. Don’t tell him I told you.” She moves on the next seat, running a thoughtful hand over it. “John. I doubt he has a diagnosis, but he depths that man can sink to—” and she points an accusing finger at Mick— “more than rival yours.”

“Warlock’s an asshole,” Mick protests, but he’s frowning at the seat like he’s thinking about it.

“And you know the ones who aren’t here right now are still Legends, don’t you?” She taps the back of another seat. “Mona Wu, dyslexic writer and all round excellent person.” She meets Mick’s eye. “You know, even though she loves reading, I don’t think she would ever have had the confidence to write if you hadn’t encouraged her.” Mick huffs, but his face softens at the mention of his friend.

Sara’s almost run out of seats, now, so she starts a second round of the table. “Nora Darhk—still a Legend, just like Ray, whether or not they’re here right now—and I never met a more courageous survivor, diagnosis or not.”

And then she takes a risk, and one more step. With her hand on the back of a chair that wasn’t even here back then, in a galley that the man himself would not have recognized, she says “Leonard Snart.” She meets Mick’s dangerous don’t go there glare and holds his gaze. “I don’t know what his deal was—you’d know better than me—but he wasn’t exactly neurotypical.”

With thoughtful eyes, Mick just looks at her. Walls crumbling.

Taking advantage of the silence, Sara walks all around the table, till she’s close enough to touch Mick, and lays a hand on his arm. “Mick Rory.” At his wide-eyed stare, she says, “It hasn’t totally slipped my notice, Mick. It’s my job to know what’s going on on this ship, and you and I have been here a long time.”

She’s seen him grow so much in that time. She wasn’t fond of the reluctant Rogue who wanted out of Rip’s mission, and when he turned brutal bounty hunter, she thought he’d never come back from it. He did, and it was the first time he surprised her. Once he finally made it past the fallout from that, she watched him grow to become even more. Totem bearer. Unlikely friend to all of them, even the most hopeless strays among the Legends. Her right hand man on the bridge, often enough, as much as he pretends he doesn’t want to be there. Watching him this year, with Lita, he’s made her as proud as any of her family could. It’s been a long five years. The two of them, on board the longest, have watched each other travel the furthest.

“Autistic,” Mick finally replies to her not-quite-question, in a mutter, eyes dropping like he’s ashamed of it.

Sara rubs his arm. She doubts that’s anywhere near the whole story, but maybe saying that chapter out loud helps. She hopes so. “I know some of the people who’ve gone...” She grins, and finishes, “...were the other freaks on this ship who reminded you of you.” She sees his lips twitch, still refusing to smile. “But, one way or another, they’re still here, Mick. And, trust me, there are people on this team who still get you.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, to the floor.

And she takes one last risk. Places a hand on her chest. “Sara Lance,” she says, as she looks back up at her friend’s surprised blink. She hangs onto the chair beside her as she forces herself to voice all the things she doesn’t like to say out loud, if she can help it. “Bipolar since I was eighteen. A shipload of PTSD, and the way my life will always be entwined with death doesn’t exactly help.” She sighs, refusing to let that ever-present darkness blot out her light again. “Every time I think I’ve got past that, it just catches up with me.” She feels a hand squeezing her own where it’s still on Mick’s arm, and she blinks something out of her eye, making herself carry on. “First the bloodlust, then Death Witch, and then all that shit with the Loom... All I ever see is death.”

“No,” he says firmly, and she looks up into determined eyes. “That ain’t all you are.”

It’s more of a confession of friendship than she ever gets from him, and she smiles. One more flame to light the way in the darkness. She can never have too many.

He gently pushes her hand from his arm, heading back towards the counter. “Come on. Got food to serve.” He piles a plate high with eggs and bacon, passing it Sara. “For Ava.”

She remembers something, and grins. “I didn’t even hear her come in last night. What were you two watching?”

“American Horror Story. Till three in the morning,” he replies, clearly proud he can keep Ava up that late. He looks at the plate, then sticks another egg on it. “Get her a coffee.”

Sara just smiles. Mick doesn’t mention his odd friendship with Ava very much, but it makes Sara happy.

And she looks at Mick, busy at the stove, and finds herself hoping it makes him happy too. She hopes all his weird little connections across this weird little family make him feel less alone in the wide, overwhelming world that could never make room for someone like him. She hopes he knows there’ll always be a place for him around the Legends’ table.

She hopes she can remember the same for herself.

“You just gonna stand there, or you gonna help?” he asks. “I gotta feed Nate, Behrad and Zari here. It’s gonna take all week.”

Sara laughs, taking another plate to the table as Mick grabs the flour and starts making up another batch of pancake batter.

They’re going to need more eggs.

#autistic pride day #my fic #neurodivergent fic #mick rory #sara lance #background avalance #autistic mick rory #bipolar sara lance #and a bunch of other neurodivergent legends (referenced)#edited bc I mis-spelled nora's name (just call me the dyslexic writer the legends would be proud of)#legends of tomorrow fanfic

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agentmarymargaretskitz · 4 years

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Vandad Savage and Gary. Maybe the origin of the movie ticket?

(Have some angst? Also- written before I watched Zari, Not Zari because AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH)

AO3

Gary sat in the bridge, tapping his fingers on his knees. The Legends had been gone for half an hour at this point on thier latest mission. As soon as he recognized the town they were and the date, Gary had volunteered to stay on the ship. It raised a few eyebrows with the Legends, but they didn’t argue against it. Thankfully, they didn’t ask why either.

He pulled out his wallet, thumbing through a few stubs and cards before he found what he was looking for. A movie ticket for Pretty Woman dated for March 27, 1990. The same day they’d landed the Waverider here.

March 27, 1990

Gary thanked the bus driver as he was getting off the bus in front of the movie theater. He still couldn’t believe he was doing this today. His father would be furious if he found out he was cutting school to go see the movies. He might even pull him out of school and put him back into personal tutoring. But to do something that was normal that other kids did was so tempting for Gary. He could never get away with this on a weekend or after school, so during had to be the time for it.

It had taken a week to plan this out perfectly. Lie to the secretary and teacher that his dad was taking him to a doctor’s appointment and he’d be out for the rest of the day, catch a bus to the theater, watch a movie, and then catch another bus to arrive back at school before dismissal. His father would be none the wiser. Gary would finally have something that he could talk about with someone else. Everyone won.

When he walked inside, there were only a few people milling about since it was around midday. Most of them were women, but a few men were milling about too. His father had been teaching him about body language, and could tell some of the people were waiting for someone. Gary watched them as he made his way over to get his tickets and they didn’t seem to be paying him any mind or attention. Good.

At the ticket counter, Gary recognized Betty Morgan’s older brother standing behind it. He’d heard Betty telling her friends before class that he was back in town for spring break and he’d get them tickets to see something. Gary had also seen him before picking his sister up after school.

“One ticket to see Pretty Woman,” he asked quietly, pulling out the cash that he’d been saving up secretly at school.

Betty’s brother glanced at him. The name tag he wore said his name was Paul. “Shouldn’t you be in school, kid?”

This wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan. “Uh, I had to leave early. Doctor’s appointment.”

“And you want to see Pretty Woman?”

Gary nodded. He had seen the posters on the drive home from school and the teachers at school had been talking all about it. It made him curious.

“Well, I don’t say I blame you,” Paul laughed. “Julia Roberts is pretty hot. But you’re gonna have a hard time getting into that movie.”

Gary’s shoulders slumped.

“But, since you are skipping school to see this movie, let me help you out. You ever seen the Little Mermaid? We had a botched shipment on one of our movies and we’re running that instead. You can see it right after Pretty Woman if you want to. I can give you two tickets for two movies, then just show the Little Mermaid to Bernie over there if he asks what you’re seeing. And I’ll charge you for just one movie too, okay?”

“Why?”

Paul shrugged. “Just being nice. If you’re gonna skip school, do it right. See two movies, not one. You have the time before school gets out. Don’t waste it.”

Gary handed him the money and took the two tickets. He walked over to buy a carton of popcorn, almost bumping into a tall man when he turned around with a box of candy. After he got his popcorn, he decided to grab a few napkins, except the container was pushed too far back for him to reach. Gary reached as far as he could before a blonde lady at the counter push them towards him.

“Thanks,” he told her, grabbing a few before making his way to the theater.

“No problem, kid.”

Thankfully, the guy who had asked to see his ticket got distracted by one of the men in the lobby knocking over the huge pot a plant was in. Gary ran all the way to the theater, nearly tripping only once on his way. When he got in, he found a spot near the the exit out of habit. Munching on his popcorn once, Gary sat through his first movie and covered his eyes only a few times when he got really nervous. But he loved every minute of it and wished he could see it again once it was over.

He wondered if he would ever have someone rescue him.

After the movie ended, he had time to go see the Little Mermaid. Just enough that he could make it back to school if he ran really fast after getting off the bus. So Gary slipped down the hall towards the other theater, glancing at the lobby as he went. There were some more people now, those getting out of other shows. He also saw some of the same people he had seen earlier. Funny.

The Little Mermaid was a lot of fun. Gary liked the music and he liked Ariel too. She seemed a lot braver than he was. Her dad was kinda mean but he did love her and worry about her. Gary wasn’t sure his father would feel that way about him if he went missing.

He was leaning forward on the edge of his seat as Ariel went to go interrupt the wedding when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Gary didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. Still, when he did, it didn’t prepare him for the fury on his father’s face.

“We’re leaving,” Vandal Savage sneered at him. “Now, Gareth.”

Gary bolted to his feet as his father led him out of the theater. He tried his best not to cry as his father moved to walk by his side, hand still on his shoulder. It would be worse if Father saw him crying. He was already in enough trouble now, and he knew it would get worse over the weekend.

“I’m sorry, Father,” he apologized as they entered the lobby.

“I don’t want your excuses, Gareth! I’m- hey!”

Someone crashed into his father and stumbled into him too. His father snarled an insult at the man as he dragged Gary out and away from the theater. In the suddenness, his Little Mermaid ticket dropped to the floor. He watched it flutter to the floor, then looked up to see the man he’d run into earlier and the woman who gave him the napkins staring at him. They were looking at him with...pity. That’s what it was, pity.

The whole ride home, his father was silent. The yelling started when they got home. He was going to be pulled out of public school and go back to tutoring. There would be more training on the weekend. He would never go to see another movie ever again.

Gary spent the rest of the week crying. He cried as he went in to clean out his cubby and desk. He cried while practicing his archery and while he was reading about militaty tactics in the library. He cried as he ate supper alone. He cried when he read the local paper and found out Paul Morgan had been killed in a hit and run accident two days after he’d given Gary the tickets. And he cried himself to sleep every night, wishing someone would come and rescue him.

“Gary.”

Gary turned around from the spellbook he was reading to see John standing in the doorway. The Legends had been back for a while, having acquired the next piece of the Loom. There was just one more to find and then they would all be set to help out Astra. Everything would work out.

“So where did you get the Loom piece?” he asked. “I kinda...zoned out during the briefing.”

“Off an immortal maniac in a movie theater. One who was dragging his runaway son out.”

Gary felt his breath catch. Now that he thought back to that day...Ava, Behrad, John....they’d all been there just now. They had all seen him. Did they know? Did they make the connection?

“Oh?” came out a little high-pitched.

“Yeah,” John held out a ticket stub. “I think you dropped this while I got the Loom piece from your father.”

Gary took the ticket and looked down at it. It was the Little Mermaid ticket, the movie that had been playing to cover for a mistake. He swallowed and looked back up at John. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Gary, it’s okay. We heard him call you Gareth and there were similarities we couldn’t ignore. But you cut school to go see a movie,” John grinned. “Thought you were a goody two-shoes, but you had a rebellious side.”

He felt his cheeks redden. “It was the one time.”

“Still, you were in there a while. The Little Mermaid wasn’t that long, was it?”

“I actually went to see Pretty Woman before that.”

“Is that what started you on being a Julia Roberts fan?”

He nodded. “I heard some teachers at my school talking about it and I was curious. Still have the stub from it.”

“Well, now you’ve got the other,” John patted his shoulder. “We didn’t, uh, know your father was...”

“Vandal Savage? Hath-Set?” Gary finished. “There’s a reason I don’t talk about my past. It’s why I stayed on the ship while you went out there. A few years after that day, I ended up running away. He never came after me.”

John nodded along with his words.

“Some days, I’m afraid he’ll turn back up in my life again and just rip it apart.”

“At least he’s dead and no longer anyone’s problem,” John told him, passing his flask over. “Even if he did come back, everyone on this ship would have your back, especially me.”

“Really?” Gary asked.

John gave his hand a squeeze. “Promise. I’ll fight him myself if he touches a hair on your head.”

#somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds #ask box #legends of tomorrow #gary green #john constantine #constangreen #vandal savage #fanfiction

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bronzecanary · 4 years

Text

Quarantine Fic: A New Timeline

To be back here, of all places, was overwhelming. The Vanishing Point was out of time, meaning it was all still happening, and yet not happening. Barry and the others were arguing with Lex. Sara wasn’t a fan. She’d earned her bullshit detector and it was glowing red around him. Sick of the arguments that were going nowhere, she wandered around this place where destiny was supposed to end. She saw barely a flash of white leather and golden hair, here she was. She heard a familiar voice and… boom! It wasn’t as loud as it should have been but enough to push her back a few steps, arms covering her ears. She moved forward again. This time, the white and gold could be made out into her own shape. She glanced over to see the leather jacket that once kept her warm, and the… friend that kept her warmer.

“There are no strings on me,” words said heavy with finality. This explosion she was ready for, mostly. To hear a blasting sound with blinding light. How was she the Paragon of Destiny when this is where it should have ended? Did that mean his death meant nothing?

She should have left, walked away, but the voice of her English companion rang true in her head, “What’s the point of seeing the past if you don’t wallow in it?” So, wallow she did. Over. And over. And over. She watched herself kiss Leonard and run with Mick over her shoulder. She uttered his last words with him and took in a breath as he took his last. Over. And over. And over. Zari had talked about her time loop, how she couldn’t wait to escape it, so, why wasn’t Sara escaping? If she was the Paragon of Destiny, couldn’t she stop this? The most recent of hundreds, maybe more, of explosions, she could have sworn she saw him look at her. To see a puzzled expression on his face before it disintegrated into the dust in her lungs. She watched longer. Yes, he was definitely looking, yet at the same time, his face was as it always had been. A trippy double image. As the replays went on, he started slowly moving, yet staying the same. One crook would stay, holding the bomb, one would inch closer, but they both burned up in the light.

Her past self would disappear into the haze as soon as she ran off, past an invisible wall of her present self’s making. She wanted to move closer to him, to reach out and pull him from himself but she was stuck, trapped and forced to watch this play out. Well, he did have to do everything himself if he could. Maybe hours had passed, maybe weeks, but this new apparition was almost free of his past body. When he finally was, he stopped burning up. He was still moving as slowly, but he was free. Was this her power as Paragon? Was she able to free him from his fate? Seemingly infinite time later, he was finally close enough to touch. His body gained form, stole his kiss and the loop they were stuck in became distant. Sara knew she shouldn’t be holding him, kissing him, but what was the chance they were ever going to escape this place? Ava was gone, as was everyone not at the Vanishing Point. She’d achieved what she came here for and was able to leave the past behind. The Paragon had given him the chance, and the thief removed the strings from himself.

Endless time passed and as quickly as it had begun, Crisis was over. Sara and Leonard boarded the ship, expecting to be swarmed with questions and many hugs from Ray. As they walked through the halls, no one was surprised to see the formally dead thief. They held Sara and gave their condolences, but no questions were asked. Exhausted and confused, Sara stumbled off to the captain’s quarters. Where Ava’s clothes and neatly folded boxes once were, sat mechanic’s tools and more men’s jackets than she’d ever thought possible. The team was called to the bridge. She knew Crisis had changed things, and it was time she knew how much. In various states of exhaustion and intoxication stood John, Charlie, Mick, Ray, Nate and… huh? Listening to the team talk about their experience taught her that his name was Behrad, and he was the new air totem bearer. Except, not the new one, the only one. She asked about Ava and got confused looks at why she’d care what happened to “the mean lady from the Time Bureau.”

After the team left, Gideon had shown Sara the timeline changes that she’d detected so far. Zari had never lost her family and had never been given the air totem. All of the adventures they’d shared with her were with Behrad now. Does that mean Nate and Behrad…? Now wasn’t the time. Ava had never warmed up to the Legends, confirming Sara’s suspicion that her tolerance to them was only a product of her affection to Sara. Gary was still an occasional contractor to the Legends, mostly to follow John around like a puppy. But the most surprising change rested on her finger. The ring she had resized, that once sat on her pinky, was now one finger over and embedded with a blue diamond that she’d have thought too big to be real. Leonard had escaped the Oculus and they’d been through this journey together.

Over the next few weeks, both Sara and Leonard began to develop both sets of memories, making daily life with the team easier. She told him what had happened when he was gone: the good, the bad and the cuddly. He struggled to comprehend the Loom of Fate, the Spear of Destiny and overall what Sara had become in the time he was gone. However, if he was good at anything, it was adapting. When she’d have conference calls with Gary, occasionally Ava would scowl from the back, breaking Sara’s heart. Apparently, they were roommates now that the Bureau had dissolved. It was hard to remember her like this, after years together as lovers and friends, with no real closure for Sara. Laurel and Tommy had visited, who knew Oliver could do that? Sara sat at his grave, thanking him for returning her family to her with his sacrifice, saying she’d help Felicity raise Mia when she could in return. Lisa gushed over wedding plans, Cisco in arm. Mick had suggested that he should be reunited with his 3-breasted alien lady, Garima, to bring as his date. Behrad and Nate were officially not together, although Gideon had a certain fondness for the totem bearer. As Sara watched Leonard perform Shakespeare, she knew that she had a lot to learn about this new timeline, but she was happy to learn it with him.

#CaptainCanary #captain canary #arrowversequarantineficexchange

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firesoulstuff · 5 years

Note

For the platonic relationship prompts request: "You are not a burden" and "I trust you with my life" for Sara and Jax

When the Sky Comes Falling Down

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15962468/chapters/47950396

When the door opens Sara looks up. She’s expecting Mick, or Ray, or maybe even Nora. Really it could be anybody on the team, here to bring her some dinner and try and get her to come out, and while that is still very obviously the motive, the who throws her for a loop.

“Jax.”

She starts to stand up, but there’s no point. She can’t run forward and hug him like she wants to, not unless she wants to risk hurting him too.

He looks surprised, and not in the good way, even though she’s sure the others warned him of what he would be walking into.

Her, in the brig, locked behind the clear but very impenetrable - and more importantly, magic dampening - force field.

He quickens his step, sliding her plate of food onto a table they keep nearby, and comes to a stop right where the force field is implanted.

At first he just looks at her, his expression desperate. On any other day that might be enough to break her heart, but she has seen that expression so many times on so many people she loves in the past few days, it hardly fazes her.

“Mick told me what happened.” He eventually blurts out, to which she scoffs, and decides to stand up after all so that she can pace the floor.

“Well I’m sorry you had to hear it from him.” She says, “I know tact isn’t exactly his specialty.”

It’s a distraction, or it’s supposed to be, he doesn’t take the bait. She starts to shift uncomfortably under his sorrowful gaze. It isn’t pity in his eyes, he would never dream of pitying her, but the kind of sorrow that comes with not knowing where to go from here.

“So… How have you been?” She asks, almost smirking with the put-upon expression he gives her.

“Sara…”

“It’s fine.” She insists, “Mick shouldn’t have called you, it isn’t like you can fix this.”

That’s enough to get him going, give him some direction, much to her dismay.

“Yeah?” He challenges, “Well he said you haven’t been listening to anyone else.”

“They want me to come out of here.” She groans, far past the point of frustrated with all of this. It’s been a long week.

“Because you belong out there!” He insists, gesturing wildly to the door. “Calling the shots and keeping them in line.”

“That doesn’t work anymore.” She growls at him, trying her damndest to keep herself at bay. She’ll never be the Captain again, it’s too dangerous now, but maybe she can hope to at least manage this enough to get out of the brig someday.

“I’m sick, Jax.” She sneers, and he rolls his eyes.

“Sara, you are not sick.”

“Really?” She demands, “Because according to John, I got bit some magical fairy-bug, it got infected, and now-”

She cuts herself off, and groans loudly as she watches Jax jump back. Great, just great, she’s gone off again. She looks at the ground, just to be sure, and yep, she’s on the ceiling and yet her body is lying in a heap on the floor. She dives back in, something that tends to be hit or miss, but thankfully she makes it this time and a second later she is slowly sitting up and the floor of the brig feels solid under her limbs.

Jax is still standing back, his hand clutching his chest. That’s why he’s out there, and she’s in here.

“I can’t go out there, Jax.” She tells him, staying where she is on the ground. “Not yet. I don’t have ANY control over it. I would just be a burden to the team.”

“Whoa.” He says firmly, pointing a finger at her and coming to stand where he previously had been. “You are not a burden.”

“Thank you.” She says, her mouth in a firm, sad smile. “But I would be if that happened in the middle of a mission.”

Jax looks likes he wants to argue, but he closes his mouth, so maybe Mick did tell him everything. Being in the containment cell makes getting back to her body fairly easy. But out on the ship, with so many places to go and barely any idea how to navigate, earlier this week she got stuck in the electric systems for three hours, and getting her out electrocuted Ray.

It’s not only her limited control that’s a risk, but the team would have to watch over her body. She needs that to go back to, and she doesn’t exactly relish the idea of “surging out” in the middle of a battle, having to only hope that someone notices her body fall before an enemy does.

“So what’s your plan?” he asks, “Stay locked up in here for the rest of your life?”

She shrugs. She knows that isn’t logical, at all, but truthfully she doesn’t have any better ideas.

“Sara, come on.” He pleads with her, “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. Magic sickness or not, I trust you with my life, and the others do too. You can control this.”

She doesn’t say anything. She keeps her eyes trained firmly on the ground; her hands skimming over the floor’s cool surface, letting it keep her right where she is.

“Sara.” His voice is a firm order, and although she doesn’t look she can still feel him crouching down to her level. “Sara, look at me.”

She doesn’t at first, but he waits her out.

“You are the most badass person I’ve ever met, ok? If anyone can beat this thing, it’s you.”

She sighs, frowns, and finally looks him in the eye.

“There is no beating this thing, Jax.” She tells him, and hurts her to say it. “There is no cure. It’s never going to stop. Even if I manage to get it under control… I’m never gonna be normal again.”

She swipes a tear from her eye with that, mildly embarrassed. It’s trivial, she knows it, but she can’t help it. Things had been going so good lately. She and Ava were starting to discuss living together again, and the future. Ok, maybe she still hadn’t been sold on the whole white picket fence deal, but it was nice to have the option.

Now, that’s gone.

“Sara you’ve never been normal.” Jax says, and she knows that’s supposed to be a good thing but the words still bring an ache with them.

She hasn’t been, she hasn’t wanted to be either, but to know that now she never can…

“Look,” He settles with her, “I don’t know the half of what you’ve been through, but I do know you’re a Captain-”

“Zari’s the Captain-”

“No.” He interrupts, “You are. And before you were a Captain you were a lost assassin, and before that you were trapped on the freighter from Hell.”

She bristles at that; she can’t help it. She doesn’t like to think about her days spent on The Amazo.

“And before that,” Jax goes on, “You were just a spoiled kid from Star City.”

She smirks a laugh at that, and it’s enough to get the same from him for a moment before his expression becomes serious again.

“Sara you didn’t go through what you’ve gone through just to lock yourself up in the brig. Even if there’s not a cure, you’ve come back from actual death. You can figure this out.”

The smile is still on her face, even if she doesn’t know what she should be saying to that.

“How?” She asks, and a tiny smile starts pulling on Jax’s mouth.

“I don’t know.” He admits, and he sits back just the slightest bit more. “But I’m not going anywhere until we think of something.”

For the first time in days, the smile she gives is genuine.

#sara lance #jefferson jackson

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