#jackson jefferson

“Maybe you should wear gloves,” Rip swerved around at the sudden intervention, his gaze falling onto a concerned Kendra, bundled up in clothes and carrying two large cups fuming of something, “it’d be safer.”

For a second, Rip found himself surprised by her mother-like tone, talking to him as if she was scolding a misbehaving child that had ignored all warning and touched the burning oven door, too eager to taste the baking goods in it. He took him a second to remember that she had been a mother. A mother that had lost a child she had barely even met. Because of Savage. Because of him.

Clearing his throat, Rip tore his gaze from her to gather his thoughts and took his finger out of his mouth, grimacing at its redness. Looking back at Kendra, he tried a smile.

“Nah,” he shook his head, “I can’t do anything with gloves, I like to feel the pieces of machinery beneath my fingers,” he shrugged, his arms crossed, “is there something I can do for you, Miss Saunders?”

Kendra blinked back at him, slightly taken aback by the abrupt change of subject, before looking down at the two drinks she had been carrying. Lifting back up her head, she shot Rip a small smile and made her way to him.

“Actually, there is something I can do for you,” she let out a chuckle at Rip’s confused tilt of head, “Jax and Ray decided to take a little break and we thought that our dear Captain should too,” she explained, holding out a cup to him, “you’re useless to us, exhausted and ill.“

He let out a bark of laughter and half-heartedly accepted the drink, bringing it to his nose and taking a cautious sniff, much to Kendra’s amusement.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I have no doubt Miss Lance and Mr Rory would use the opportunity to turn my ship against me.”

“Please,” Kendra snorted, leaning against a wall as she took a sip of her drink, “Gideon would scatter us throughout the worst periods of History if we, as much thought of mutiny.”

“Indeed I would,” came the A.I’s light, monotone response, “Immediately and without an hesitation.”

With a smirk, Rip raised his cup to the ceiling in a silent toast.

“Loyal to a fault, Gideon,” he declared, “loyal to a fault.”

“I aim to please, Captain.”

With a fond shake of head, he wrapped his fingers around the warm mug and, not bothering to blow on it or wait for it to cool, took a long sip of the drink. Rip let out a surprised, yet pleased, hum as the hot chocolate liquid flowed down his throat, leaving a peppery taste and instantly warming his entire body. There was no way that had came out of a can or the ship’s fabricator – was the fabricator still working? He would have to check on it later.

Noticing his stunned expression, Kendra’s mouth broke into a wide, pleased grin as she hugged her mug closer to her chest.

“It’s good, right?” Still bemused, Rip could only give a nod in response. She returned the nod, giddy, “Mick made it,” she added nonchalantly.

And Rip almost choked on the second sip he took out, his stomach churning at the mention of the pyro, and looked up at Kendra, his eyes wide-opened and ready to spit the liquid out of his mouth. First confused at the Captain’s horrified reaction, her own eyes widened in realization. Face palming, Kendra let out a chuckle, which did nothing to reassure him.

“No, no, no, it’s all good,” she quickly assured, taking a sip of her own drink to prove her point, “See? There’s nothing bad in it. Well,” she tilted her head to the side, wincing a bit at the taste, “except for the unhealthy amount of rum Mick poured into it.”

Weary, Rip swallowed the chocolate with a loud gulp, letting out a painful cough when it went down the wrong way. Or maybe it was the rum. Or maybe it was the undetectable poison Mick had only poured in his cup, slowly making its way to his heart. Shaking himself out of his paranoid frenzy, Rip held out a hand when Kendra went to walk to him, probably to pat him on the back.

“I’m fine,” he croaked out before he cleared his throat, wiping the corner  of his mouth, “Yeah, there’s definitely rum in there. And not the cheap stuff, that’s for sure,” he added, muttering under his breath.

Sighing, Rip put down the cup by his tools and, after warming his hands, crouched back down in front of the opened panel, finding the previously discarded flashlight a few steps away from him. As he examined the system for further damage with a frown, Kendra didn’t move. He heard her let out a sigh, jumping from foot to foot as if to keep herself warm. With another sigh, he heard her put down her cup and, from the corner of his eye, watched as she dropped in a sitting position, her legs folded under her.

Putting his flashlight down, Rip stiffened a groan and turned to face her, lifting an eyebrow in question. Kendra responded with a smile and shrug.

“I thought you could use the company. Or an assistant, seeing as Jax is busy with Ray,” she explained, pointing to his tray of tools.

As hard as he tried, Rip couldn’t help the twitch of his lips at the genuine tone of the younger’s woman voice. After a moment of deliberation, he handed her the flashlight, huffing a laugh when she grabbed it out of his grasp with a grin on her face. Shaking his head, he turned back to the wires, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Are you alright?” Kendra asked, after a few moments spent in silence.

Frowning, he didn’t look up from his work but tilted his head to the side and hummed, indicating that he had heard her and was paying attention to her.

“I’m fine, it just went down the wrong pipe. Nothing to worry about, Miss Saunders,” he retorted, grimacing at the state of some cables.

“No, that’s not what I meant-“ her hesitance made him look up, his frown deepening at the look of her face. Kendra cleared her throat, “What I meant is… Are you alright? With everything that went one with Savage and everything…”

His jaw clenched, Rip leaned back on his heels so he could really face her. Kendra was staring at him, her eyes squinted and her bottom lip stuck between her teeth. He wasn’t sure if her fingers trembling were because of the cold or because of her nerves. Seeing as she was wearing, he guessed it was the latter. Letting a breath though his nose, he ran his fingers through his hair and shot her a small smile.

“Well, we’ve completed our mission, didn’t we,” he retorted, “Savage is dead, the word is no longer ending and we’ve got you and Carter back. I count it as a success.”

If you were ignore the fact that one of his crew had been brainwashed by the institution that had raised him, that they had ended this expedition with one less member and that he hadn’t been able to stop his wife and child from being killed. Rubbing the back of his neck, he cleared his throat, trying to rid himself of his pessimism, and looked back to Kendra, the latter didn’t look convinced.

“Did we really, though?” she insisted, her tone cautious, “I thought your purpose had been to save your family-”

“It was!” Rip snapped, throwing his pincer to the side. To her credit, Kendra didn’t flinch. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed, “It was. I don’t think if you’ve noticed during those months you’ve spent on this ship, but I didn’t really know what I was doing when I recruited all of you. While killing Savage – and saving them – has always been the ultimate goal; it turned into something bigger when you all came in. Maybe their deaths were a mean to an end,” he bowed his head to avoid Kendra’s gaze, muttering the last few words.

It had been a mean to a better end, Rip reminded himself. All of it had been thought beforehand. He had spent years wondering if it had been meant to be, deliberately calculating each of his moves only to find himself holding Miranda’s and Jonas’ lifeless corpses for the umpteenth time. He had been spend years wondering if he was supposed to live in an endless loop of misery, wondering how he could break it only to find out that it had been pre-written for him. No matter what he did, whatever choice he made, he wouldn’t be able to change anything. Because in some messed up, tragic way: it was meant to be.

“You don’t really think that,” Kendra whispered, breaking him out of his reverie. Not even letting him the time to reply, she fixed him with a stare and kept talking, “If you really believe that their deaths were a mean to an end, it means that Aldus’ death was meaningless. Just a ploy in their games,” she spat, her stare holding a familiar fire. While he knew that her anger was directed at him, he couldn’t but lean a bit further from her, “and that’s not something I’m about to accept. Neither should you.”

Rip found himself gaping at her, his mouth dry and his throat tightening, Kendra breathing heavily, a hand on her chest as she leaned back, her eyes wide-opened in realization.

“Sorry, I didn’t-“ she stammered out, brushing her hair out of her face.

“You needn’t apologize, Kendra,” he interrupted her, lifting a hand, “It’s just… It turned out that every choice that I have ever made was been premade for me. I’ve been taught to trust and have blind faith in a group of people that would, in the future, turn against me. Sorry, I don’t really know what to think lately. he added with a shrug, running his hands over his face.

Her face softened into a small smile as she grabbed her mug back, holding it to her chest.

“You needn’t apologize, Captain,” Kendra repeated, doing her best impression of Rip’s British accent, much to the latter’s bemusement, “You know, I found out that every choice in my life had been already made for me, not that long ago. An older version of myself even told me that I was doomed if I were to live another life that the one people decided for me. Still, it doesn’t stop me from trying to live this life as if I didn’t already have thousand of years of existence.”

Kendra couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the absurdity of her situation, earning a snort from Rip. Smiling down at him, she kicked his leg with her foot.

“Blowing the Oculus was the first step. The second is to take back control of your life,” she lifted a shoulder, as if it was the easiest thing to do.

It probably was, Rip found himself thinking. He had meant it when he said that nobody controlled him. Now that all strings had been cut, he found himself with a blank blackboard in front of him and the ability to wrote his own future. His lips pursed, he shot Kendra a tight-lipped smile and gave her a nod.

“Wise words, Miss Saunders,” his smile turned into a smirk at her second eye roll, “I supposed that picking you lot wasn’t so bad.”

“Right,” Kendra snorted, “We’re probably the worst crew ever known to man. You, however, are a pretty good Captain, Mr Rip Hunter. And a good man, overall.

Rip was the one who snorted, this time, an eyebrow cocked in incredulity. Clearing his throat, he grabbed his pincer back and turned to the opened panel. Kendra took it as her cue to take back the flashlight and shined it into it.

“Not sure about being a good man,” he muttered – Kendra didn’t know if he was talking to himself and responding to her, “But I can try to be a good Captain by repairing this and saving this entire crew from freezing to death. Kendra, if you would?” he added louder, pointing to the tangled mess of cables.

With a frown, she directed the light to the wires and watched as he carefully took of the plastic off of it, knotting the end of it as he went to look for another wire, repeating the same process he did on the previous one. Wrapping the two together, he grabbed the hot soldering iron from its holster and proceeded to melt both ends together, under Kendra’s curious gaze. Letting out a breath, he put the tool back into its place and got to his feet, quickly imitated by the woman by his side. Kendra turned the flashlight, holding her breath as he closed down the panel and threw her a look. The corner of his mouth tugging upward, Rip nodded to the lever next to her.

“Shall we?”

With a grin, she lifted up the lever, her smile widening when she heard the soft whirs of the machinery start up and felt the hot coming through the vents. Kendra let out an incredulous laugh and took off her scarf and gloves, turning back to Rip. The latter stood in front of her, seemingly satisfied.

“Gideon?” Rip inquired, looking at the ceiling.

“The Waverider’s heating systems have been restored to 100 pour cent, Captain,” Gideon answered.

He couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips, Kendra’s bright grin reflecting his own joy. Suddenly appearing at his side, she wrapped him in a tight embrace, breaking the hug before he could even have the chance to react. Beaming, she kept her hands on his arms; her palms pleasantly warm on his skin.

“You did it!” Kendra squealed, squeezing his arms.

“Did you think I would not? Ye of little faith, Miss Saunders,” Rip frowned, faking offense, “Beside,” he added as he picked up his jacket from the floor, quickly shrugging it on, “I had a great assistant. I’m serious, ” he insisted at her eye roll, “manning the flashlight is the most important work of all.”

This time, Kendra snorted, her newly discarded coat hanging from her arm.

“Hey, Rip!”

Rip looked up at the call of his name, frowning as he saw Ray standing on the other end of the hall. It wasn’t his sudden appearance that made him frown, though, but rather the fact that he was wearing one gauntlet of the A.T.O.M suit on one hand while carrying a tablet with the other. Noticing Kendra standing by his side, Ray stopped in his tracks.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t know you were here,” he grinned sheepishly at her, waving in greeting. She returned the gesture, amused.

“Is there something I can help you with, Dr Palmer?” Rip intervened, knowing that if he didn’t, the other man would probably forget what he came here for and began a conversation with his former fiancée.

“Yes, actually. If you’re done with rerouting the heating system, I could use your help in the cargo bay,” he asked, his gloved fingers drumming against the screen of his tablet.

“I thought Mr Jackson was the one supposed to help you,” Rip asked, his head tilted to the side and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Suspicion that was, apparently, well founded if the nervous titter that left Ray’s lips was anything to go by. Rubbing the back of his neck with his bare hand, he ducked his head to avoid his Captain’s expectant stare, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, at loss for words. Clearing his throat, Ray lifted his head and shot Rip a small smile, quickly sobering when he responded with a cocked eyebrow.

“Um, Jax had too much of Nana Rory’s Special Chocolate Brew and,” Ray took a step back, squinting his eyes at Rip in anticipation, “he might or might not be drunk…?”

Kendra choked down a laugh, her lips pursed and a smile too-innocent-to-be-genuine plastered on her face when Rip turned to glare at her. Her shoulders shaking with supressed laughter, she covered her mouth with a hand and shook her head at him. Rip groaned, running his hands over his face.

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered, letting his hands fall to his sides, “Lead the way, Dr Palmer,” he sighed.

Though confused, Ray gave him a slow nod before turning around, slowly walking away. Letting a chuckle escape her lips, Kendra wrapped her arms around herself and cocked her head to the side, both of her eyebrows up.

“What was that about picking us up not being that bad?” Kendra asked, frowning in fake confusion, only to received a blank look from Rip.

“Famous last words, Miss Saunders. Words,” he pointed a finger at her, “that won’t be spoken again any time soon.

Kendra gave him a solemn nod and mimed zipping her lips, earing a snort from Rip. Shaking his head at her, he let out a long-suffering sigh and went to follow Ray, his back to the younger woman.

“I knew this whole chocolate mess would come back to bite in the arse, one way or another,” he muttered.

Kendra’s laugh echoed through the Waverider’s halls, following him as he made his way toward the cargo bay. A smile tugging at his lips, Rip found out that was a sound he could get used to.