i’m not just going to sit there and let her die . rip hunter had denied her once, weaving his tales of timelines and rules — making it seem as if any intervention not spearheaded by his decisions was wrong. but he was gone, dead by his own choice to sacrifice himself, and they were all better off for it. before the beginnings of the time bureau, and his cruel replacement of ava a dozen times, he had set the precedent for her to undo. their father had been gone a month, his loss settling so deeply within her that no amount of explanations could make clear to any of those around her. those that seemed to know without knowing didn’t push.
until the very moment the waverider’s captain decided to act, they had been left in the dark — then quick to agree to her proposal. if they planned on screwing things up for the better, why did that have to stop? demons were circling, the world was undoing itself, and it was easy to justify her choices. they needed help, and needed it now. gideon hadn’t been surprised when she urged the ai to bring them back a few years, to star city in the middle of strife, her plan already laid by the time they’d arrived at the hospital. snatching her injured sister had been the easy part, the harder was to ignore all those in the room, erasure minds on their departure, and escape newly unnoticed.
gideon had once healed her at death’s door, so the other lance sister laid in one of the med bay’s beds was no trouble. sara had kept close to her side, touching a hand, her cheek, anxious and fearful that nothing would work the way she’d intended. interrupting the timeline was a risk, but it had been done so close to death purposely to avoid any interruptions. as if on cue, gideon chose to speak. ( you can wake her, captain lance. i’ve cut back on her anesthesia. ) ‘ dinah. ‘ she spoke softly, taking a hand, continuing to brush her fingers over her sister’s knuckles to help rouse her. ‘ hey. ’
