#sick!len

               Turning to where the others are gathered together she waves her hand before her. “You guys go ahead. I’m to get this cleaned up.” She motioned to a long cut on her arm and his gut twists at the blood running down her hand.

               He caught Mick’s suspicious glance, but then he turned to follow the rest of the team into the small town. Sara walked slowly at his side the entire way back to the ship, only a hair between their shoulders and her good hand brushing his. He wants to ask about her hand, to tell her he’s fine, to go with the others. But the moments he stops focusing on his feet he stumbles. Once they get on the ship she gives him a measuring look, clenching and unclenching her bloodied fist.

               “I’m fine Canary, I don’t need you to walk me to my room like a child.” He scowls, turning to make his way toward his room. Truth be told he has very little strength left, but he wanted her taking care of her wound before she bothered with him. Once in his room he placed the Coldgun on his desk and sat heavily onto the bed. Several minutes past before he mustered the energy to remove his boots, even longer before he could push himself to the shower and removing the grime of battle. He had just made it back to bed when there was a knock against his door. “What?”

               “It’s Captain Lance,” Gideon replied.

               “I figured that,” he grumbled, before he could tell the ship to turn her away she knocked more loudly. He  pushed to a sitting position and sighed, “Let her in.”

               Sara stood in the doorway, clean jeans and a short sleeve shirt revealing the white banding on left arm. Her hair lays in damp waves over her shoulders, arms crossed over her chest as she steps into the room. “You shouldn’t have been out there today.”

               “I told you canary, I’m fine.” He drawls, his arms rising to mimic hers.

               “You were compromised,” she levels him with a burning stare, “Gideon says you have an advanced case of the flu.”

“Mister Snart refuses to allow me to treat him.” The ship butts in with frustration.

               “Your concern is touching,” he retorts

               “I can’t risk my team being less than 100%” There’s anger as she prowls closer. “You could have gotten seriously injured out there, or worse.”

               “I know my limitations Captain,” He growls, which dissolves into a round of painful coughing. When he can finally breath again he finds her looking at him with concern. Her hand comes toward his face and he flinches away.

               She drops it instantly, “I’m sorry.” Her voice is quieter now, “I was just going to check you temperature.” He considers a snide remark but he’s so tired. Instead he offers a little nod and she reaches up more slowly, laying her hand against his head. She frowns, “Len, you’re burning up.”

               “I’ve had worse,” he shrugs, his eyes settling on the bandage around her arm.

               She follows his gaze and shakes her head, “Just a scratch, hardly worth the bandage.” Her hand falls from his face. “Can I do anything to help?”

               “I can take care of myself Assassin,” his voice is flat, “Go join the others at the bar, or whatever else you do to celebrate.”

               She stiffens, and for a moment he thinks she may snap at him again. Instead she turns on her heel, throwing a simple “I’ll be in the library if you need me,” over her shoulder.

~

               He’s not sure how long he dozes before the sound of the door opening stirs him. The aching has gotten worse, and he notes how his throat feels raw as he swallows. There’s a weight over his body, and as he becomes more aware of his surroundings he finds a soft blanket, that is not his, has been placed over him.

               “Hey,” Sara’s voice is quiet as she turns to face him from her place beside the bed, his favorite mug in hand. “I didn’t mean to wake you, but –“ she motions to the mug, “This will help with your symptoms.”

               He glares, voice raspy “I already told Gideon –“

               “It’s just herbs,” she huffs, “Nothing in here will dull your senses or knock you out.” After another moment she sighs, setting it on the side table. “I’ll check in on you later.” She states simply before exiting the room once more.

               He tries to get back to sleep, but after another round of coughing tearing at this throat he reaches for the mug. It’s only half full, which he’s grateful for as his hands tremble when he lifts it to his lips. It’s a bitter smelling tea, and tastes even more so. It burns down his throat, but after a few more drinks it eases the pain. He puts the mug back before managing to slip into unconsciousness once more.

~

               The next time he is pulled from blissful sleep is to his partner’s gruff voice. “Look Blondie, you don’t have to do this.”

               “You and Jax are perfectly capable of running the ship,” Sara replies

               “Course we can,” there’s a pause, “Boss doesn’t like people seeing him this way. His old man didn’t believe in excuses.” Leonard want’s to growl, to send both of them packing. But he also doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to break the respite he’s finally found from the pain.

               “I know he doesn’t, neither do I.” Sara’s voice is quiet, “I know that’s why he’s trying so hard to push me away.” She sighs, “I just wish he would let me help, would realize he doesn’t have to do it all alone anymore.”

               If Mick responds he doesn’t hear it before the darkness pulls him in once more.

~

             The next time he wakes the room is quiet and dimly lit. His mouth is dry and he forces himself into a sitting position. There’s a lukewarm cup of medicinal tea on the table which he immediately reaches for. As he drinks his eyes adjust and he takes in the room; settling on the petite figure curled up in his chair. Her feet are pulled up, covered by a blanket and a book open atop it, favorite mug sitting on his desk. For a moment he soaks it in, the way her hair falls over her cheek, how peaceful she seems. He thinks to her whispered words to his partner, and his heart aches in his chest.

              He shifts, coughing softly before finishing the tea and returning the mug to the table. He sighs, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest. “How did I get you?” he whispers, “I spend all this time pushing you away, and you have my back anyway.” He stands, padding across the small space to pull her blanket a little higher. “I want to let you see even my broken days; but I’m scared Sara…”

            “I know,” she whispers, voice still thick with sleep as her eyes blink open. She gives him a little smile, shifting to lay a hand over his. “I’m still learning too.” She frowns, “You alright?”

         He nods, tucking hair behind her ear. “Fever’s broken, thanks to you.”

            She gives a little hum of approval, “Good,”

           He smiles, straightening before tugging softly at her hand. “Why don’t you come to bed?” She nods, gracefully getting to her feet. He motions with his head, “Go on, I’ll be right back.”

         “Kay,” she turns toward the bed and he makes his way to the restroom. After splashing his face with cool water and getting a fresh set of clothes he makes his way to the bed. Sara is beneath the sheets, and he nudges her over just enough to slip in beside her.

          He slides a hand down to her waist and she instinctively snuggles against his chest; an action that not so long ago would have terrified him. Instead he smiles, relishing the way her breath feels on his neck or how her hand is splayed out over his chest. “Thank you,” he whispers, voice thick “for looking after me.”

            He feels her smile, “You’re welcome, but-“ she pulls back slightly, offering a half glare. “you better not get me sick like this Crook.”