#icedlegend

          Truth be told, she may had already started on the day drinking, glad that Leo had reset Gideon to the default settings, as far as how alcohol fabrication. Mick may have been the one bingeing on booze most often but that didn’t make Sara any less of a mess. In fact, Mick’s coping methods were the ones the captain could relate to best - violence and alcohol. And with everything that had happened, the losses their crew had suffered, and the fact that there was a man walking around that was technically Leonard Snart but not the Leonard she had come to care for?

          Yeah. Sara needed to drink.

          Perhaps that was what she could blame the compliment on. Or just the simple fact (she tried to deny) that Sara missed HER Leonard, and the flirtatious banter that had become so casual between them. If Leo was thrown by the sporadic compliment, he didn’t show it or he hide it well enough. Leo wasn’t Leonard, not really; but they were identical and the soft smile gracing Citizen Cold’s lips left a hollow ache in Sara’s chest. A quiet, softer part of her longed to have him smirk and assure Sara that the whole Leo guise was merely a ruse. That this was her Leonard Snart, thrown briefly to a different earth by the destruction of the Occulus. That he was here to stay. That he remembered her.

          But no such scenario happened. Not even in her dreams, which were more often than not plagued with the ghosts of those she had lost, blaming Sara for being unable to save them.

          The smile she offered in return was small, not really touching her eyes, even as Leo complimented her in return. “So I’ve been told,” she drawled, sparing the man only a brief look before making a beeline to the liquor. She was too sober for this. However, Leo’s offer caused her to pause, stormy blue irises taking in first the mugs of hot chocolate and the parka-wearing man beside them. 

          She couldn’t begrudge him this. He had things left in Central City. His sister, his underground empire. Mick probably wanted to get off the Waverider and never return, now that the Occulus was destroyed and Savage was dead. But Rip had given the option for the crew to stay on. Some agreed to it, like Sara. But that was because the assassin could no longer be in her own time period.

          Things in Star City had been rough before, with Sara not sure where she stood or what she was after being resurrected. But now? Knowing her sister is dead and blaming herself for not being there to fight along side her? Sara couldn’t bear the thought of life in Star City again. Not now. Not like this.

          So how could she blame Leonard for wanting to find Lisa, when her entire reason for leaving revolved around Laurel?

          She can’t do this. She can’t just let him go like this. Maybe it’s his taunts of their future or the momentary lack of oxygen during their kiss giving her time to think...but Sara wouldn’t let Leonard go out like this. He didn’t deserve it. It was a big bang, sure. Leonard deserved to get his revenge. But he didn’t need to die. Not like this.

          They only had one shot.

          The first rule of time travel was never to interact with a former iteration of yourself - and Mom would have both of their heads if they caused another time breaking anomaly. Then again, if they failed and didn’t jump back into the future before the Occulus was destroyed, then Mom wouldn’t be able to get mad at them.

          Because they, along with their father, would be dead.

          Lily turned to her brother, fingers clutching the cold gun tightly in her grasp. Luke’s area of expertise was in martial arts, like their mother; it’d be easier if Lily fended off any potential time masters attempting to stop them from leaving. Luke, meanwhile, had the portal watch to give them an entrance to the Vanishing Point. In his pocket, weight reassuring and hopeful, rested their father’s salvation - a simple clamp meant to hold down the self-destruct trigger and allow their father to escape back to the waverider, back to Uncle Mick, back to their mother.

          The twins didn’t need to speak their fears; they can see it in each other’s eyes. So instead, Lily and Luke Snart merely nod at each other encouragingly before Luke opens the portal and they rush in.

          Almost immediately the younger (by ten minutes) twin heard his sister’s gun go off, defending their way out. Luke didn’t dare look back, as much as he wanted to. They were running out of time. Immediately sliding next to his father, part of Luke is quietly taken with how young he looks. He has Lily’s frown. Luke’s eyes. But now wasn’t the time for sentimentality. 

          “Hey!” he called out, against the sounds of battle and malfunctioning machinery. And belatedly, Luke will revel in getting the chance to order his father around - a rarity because, as the saying go, his father often did know best. Fumbling for the clasp briefly, he retrieved it and held it up to show it to the (future) patriarch of the Snart clan. “Let go! We got this!”

          Usually, she could follow Leonard’s plans. Usually, she had no problem being the hired muscle, being the point and shoot gunner that Leonard positioned where and how he needed. But sometimes, the fire got to be too much for her. She didn’t have the same drive and ambition Leonard did, she never had. She was a nothing, a freak, a mistake; Leonard was always meant for something greater. Mick never really cared about how elaborate a heist needed to be - get in, steal some loot, burn whoever stood in her way. Just like she had done all her life.

          But ignoring Len had its repercussions and this time, it involved her partner getting caught in the crossfire.

          Mick had offered to drive. Len wasn’t always a fan of Mick’s driving - too reckless, just like everything she did in her life - but it was the least she could do after screwing up yet again. The silence was tense and suffocating and Mick wished she had been the one to be hit. The cathartic burn of fire against her already scarred flesh would be welcome compared to the icy aura of rage her partner gave off.

          They were back in the safehouse, Mick carting in the loot, when Leonard finally spoke up. Part of her wanted to snark back - Leonard knew what she was like on a job, especially when she hadn’t had a chance to roast any pigs in a good, long while. The rest of her wanted to bow her head like a scolded child - like a dog with its tail between its legs - and she KNEW that was part of the problem, her willingness to submit to Leonard’s expertise. But this was her partner, and she had failed him. Plain and simple. That, for now, warranted some remorseful submission.

          Being the captain of a team of time travelers often meant Sara didn’t have enough time to focus on watching her children - especially given that there were FIVE of them. Which, truthfully, suited the Lance-Rory-Snart just fine. Even WITH three parents to police them, they were outnumbered, and it left the children to their own devices more often than not.

          Which, on this particular day, included a series of elaborate and intense war games.

          With their parents being who they were, it made sense that the siblings took this so seriously, even if - to outside observers, it might seem rather nonsensical. Especially given that young Leo Rory was sneaking around the Waverider as if an ACTUAL threat was around and not JUST the twins. But he was out doing recon on the Snart twins - tacticians following in their father’s footsteps exactly - and the extra precaution was warranted.

          “Status report?” Emma Rory questioned without looking up from the monitors; Gideon, at least, was still letting them use camera feeds. She had threatened to cut that privilege off after their last battle had resulted in a small fire in the kitchen.

          “Lily’s got the cold gun,” he whispered to his younger sister, glad to be back safe in their base of operations. Well, safe for a moment anyway, before an incredulous Emma fixed her brother with an open mouthed stare for a beat before yelling out, “OKAY, TIME OUT!”

          As if on cue, two dark haired, freckled faces popped up from around the corner, identical brows cocked inquisitively. “Lils, did you really take Dad’s cold gun? That’s not fair!”

          “Says the meta! How’re we supposed to compete with your fireballs, Ember?” Luke’s quiet retort of “with water guns, like I suggested,” was only met with a glare from his twin sister.

          “It’s not my fault I have powers and you don’t! We agreed not to use Dad’s cold gun, Papa’s heat gun, or Mama’s staffs.”

          “We’re criminals, Em. We break rules.”