So, this is a fix-it.

This is not a one-shot and will at least have another part if not more. I will try to get it updated as soon as I can.

And this is canon divergent after Legendary.

Enjoy!

She has never wanted to leave Star City so desperately and urgently before.

Every lane that she walks through is a memory, every corner that she turns is a reminder, every inch of the city is her sister, stained and tainted with loss and pain.

She knows she will not survive here, survive this onslaught of memories, survive the sympathetic glance she knows she will be subjected to, survive being without a mission or a purpose, survive the loss of both her sister and her – she does not have a label for him, he was everything to her, yet nothing defined, blurred lines – chained to 2016. She knows she has to escape, run away from the truth of reality and lose herself in the strands of time.

She is the first one to accept Rip's offer and after visiting her sister, bidding her father yet another goodbye, she meets the team. She watches as the team dwindles as Kendra and Carter leave, fly off into the horizon. It is another loss and she suddenly realizes how she had grown to love the sparring sessions and midnight conversations with Kendra. The loss seems graver in the wake of Snart's – Leonard's – death and it keeps her up at night, sobbing relentlessly.

Unlike their previous mission, there is not much to do this time. There is no imminent danger, no immortal psychopath aspiring for world domination, no crook to spend her time with, playing cards or simply bantering. She is left alone most of the time; Rip preferring to spend his spare time with Gideon, engrossed in plans of rebuilding the Vanishing Point, Jax and Stein spending their time together, working on Firestorm's transmutation powers and Mick and Ray forming an unlikely yet tight friendship. She joins the team for meetings and dinners but slinks away quietly soon after, almost always feeling like a third wheel, a fish out of water.

She questions her decision to leave Star City in these moments of loneliness, scarred with memories of Leonard, laden with the belief that had he been there, things would have been a lot different.

After days of nothingness, chronological inactivity, the Waverider picks up an anomaly in Central City, 2015, and she feels just a tad better at having something to do.

By now, she has driven herself to madness, unable to function properly without having a sudden breakdown, the realization of the loss of her sister and Leonard jolting her, the pain so stark that the loss seems fresh and excruciating. It happens almost every day, at different hours of the day. Sometimes she sees the pack of cards lying somewhere innocuously and she dissolves into violent tears, sometimes she fragments into a thousand pieces at the sight of her White Canary suit, be a hero in the light buzzing in her ears like an unstoppable untameable clamorous noise. The team watches her helplessly, they fail to provide the comfort she seeks, they fail to lend the shoulder she needs, they fail to return to her the arms she craves. She does not blame them, she simply does not connect with them, not in a way she did with Leonard.

Mick understands her pain better than the others do, they spend many a nights drinking together, till the alcohol numbs everything and she can no longer think or feel. They rarely talk about Leonard, neither of them are very good with words, they find it easier to hide in the temporary fragile peace that they build for themselves. Besides she is jealous of Mick as puerile and querulous as it may sound. At least Mick can jump back in time and talk to him, he has an option but she does not. Because the only moment in time the Waverider can safely travel to after the destruction of the Oculus without altering the course of history and without removing any one of them from the time line is Central City, 2013: a time before Leonard Snart knew Sara Lance, a time before they met on a rooftop, a time before Russia could be imprinted in their memories, a time before the card games and the bar brawls and the me and you. Perhaps the visits Mick is allowed does not help him as much as she thinks it does but he still has a damn option.

Rip frowns at the anomaly that they detect in Central City, 2015. Gideon has no more information, the destruction of the Oculus has left the time stream in a state of permanent limbo and more often than not, Gideon fails to provide them with answers that she would have previously come up with in a blink.

"Perhaps we should not make this jump," Rip tells them when they congregate to discuss the plan of action.

"What do you mean we shouldn't?" Ray asks, the confusion clear on his face.

"We still have inadequate information about Central City, 2015 and we do not know what is causing this disturbance. We do not know if our intervention will help the matters or whether it will simply exacerbate the situation-"

"The hell does it matter?" she asks, irritation apparent in her voice. "If we mess up the time line, we can always go back and fix things."

"I am afraid it is not that simple, Miss Lance," Rip says with a shake of the head. "With the Oculus gone, the time line is more fragile and vulnerable than one can comprehend. One false step and all our efforts in defeating Savage will have been for nothing.:

She does not know how to contest that. As much as she wants to pick a fight, vent her anger somewhere, Rip has a point.

"So what you are telling us is that the only thing we can do with a timeship is hide in the temporal zone?" it is Mick who speaks and she recognizes the contempt in his voice. "This how you intend to protect the time line?"

"Until we have more information-" Rip tries to offer an explanation.

"And when will that be?" Mick growls.

"Till the data lost in the Oculus has been retrieved and we-"

"Look Hunter," Mick hisses, drawing menacingly close to Rip. "I may not be a Time Master but I know a thing or two about time travel mumbo jumbo and there is no way in hell that I will let a damned anomaly in my own city go unnoticed because you are scared that you will mess up the time line."

"Rory is right," Jax chips in. "For all we know, this could have something to do with one of us here and if you do not take care of it, we could potentially disappear from the time line, leaving Savage alive."

Rip begins to say something but is cut off by Mick once again as the burly man wraps a hand around their captain's throat and hisses, "Listen to the kid."

Everyone watches in stunned silence before Rip eventually relents, "Alright, fine, strap in."

Central City, 2015, indeed turns out to be a false alarm. Everything seems to be in perfect order and Gideon fails to trace the original anachronism, much to Rip's annoyance.

"Don't start with the moral lecture, please," she tells him before he can begin to show his irritation.

He glares at her and then barks, "The Waverider cannot make a jump before twenty four hours now."

"We can crash in 2015," she reminds him, a wry smile firmly in place.

"Of course," he mutters to himself.

"And," Rip tells the team, eying her and Mick especially. "Please try to keep yourselves within the confines of the Waverider."

When sleep eludes her again that night, her demons dancing in the darkness, she decides to leave the ship. For the first time in days, she has a place to go to, hide somewhere in the cacophony of the civilization, a welcome change from the void of the temporal zone.

She slips out of the ship quietly, not rousing anyone. Like always, the Waverider has landed in a desolate stretch of land and she has to walk for a long time before she finally winds up in a place filled with people.

The realization does not hit her at once, it creeps on her slowly as she sees the odd couple plastered against a wall in a darkened alley, wrapped in a warm embrace, as she sees the group of drunken friends stumble out of a bar, that she is lonely and no matter how much she tries she can never find peace or solace here.

She takes to the rooftops then, sticking to the shadows she knows best, doing the only thing that still connects her to Laurel and Leonard: protecting people. She is not dressed in her suit but wishes she were, makes her feel more like a hero.

As the night grows, the city turns quieter, falling into a state of slumber. The night air is cold, brushing against her skin and making her shiver.

Even if she thinks of it subconsciously, she does not allow the thought that she may run into the Leonard Snart of 2015 to attain much foreground. She has long since learnt that hope has its own mendacious ways.

It is the cry of a woman that cuts through her thoughts and sends her adrenaline rushing, her feet working on automatic now, her instinct guiding her to where trouble is. It is the same old scene: one young girl, hardly twenty, pale and frightened up against four brutes. She knows she can take them down all by herself with a little bit of luck and effort since she is weaponless.

There is a small voice of reason that tells her to call for backup: Mick would suffice, but she finds herself unnaturally drawn to the danger, the bloodlust she thought she had conquered raising its ugly head under her skin, her mind and her body aching for a fight, one window to let go of all the cooped up rage and grief.

She descends from the roof, taking down one man with her, the element of surprise working.

"Let her go," she says calmly, the slightest of anger in her voice.

"Or what?" one of them sneers.

She can smell it in their breaths: the stench of alcohol. It is to her advantage really that they are drunk.

"Let her go," she repeats, much more slowly, a threat hanging in her words.

"And if we did, could we keep you?" the same man speaks, a lecherous smile on his face as his eyes rake over her body shamelessly.

"Yes, can we keep you, blondie?" the second man slurs.

She feels her blood boil at that tone but knows she cannot do anything till she has the girl in safety.

She makes eye contact with the petrified girl who has broken down into tears. "Hey?" she says softly. "It will be alright."

"Never make promises you cannot keep, blondie," the second man says, caressing the girl's cheeks.

She snaps at that; all rationality and control gone, she rushes towards the men, taking down the man who had the girl with a few punches and kicks before his sloshed friends can understand what has transpired.

One against two.

The girl has escaped by now and she only hopes that she will get away from this place as soon as possible.

She watches as the remaining men glare at her with an animalistic glint in their eyes. They charge towards her simultaneously and she breaks into a run towards them. She knows she does not have much time before the ones she has knocked unconscious come to their senses.

She meets their disoriented and discordant punches with equal force, every attack of theirs with equal ferocity, every offense with equal brutality.

She has the upper hand and flips one of them onto the ground when she feels a gun on her head. True to her fears, one of the knocked out men is up and has a gun pressed against her head.

"Time to back off, blondie," he says against her neck, his breath disgustingly falling on her skin.

She does not feel confident anymore and tries to break away from the arms of her captor.

"Uh oh, one false step and I might end up spilling your beautiful brain all over this place," he hisses.

And then, everything happens in a blur: the familiar sound of the cold gun charging behind her, the grip on her arm loosening and the man falling down with a thump. She watches as the remaining men are iced by-

"Are you okay?" the familiar drawl reaches her ears as Leonard comes in full view.

This is too much for her and she finds herself faltering till her back is pressed against the wall of a building. His eyes follow her and he reaches out a hand to keep her steady.

"Are you okay?" he repeats.

She nods in a daze and then mutters incoherently, "I am fine."

She does not know how to respond to this situation: all she wants to do is run a hand down his cheek, just feel him, just live this moment where Leonard Snart is alive and well and is standing across her with the shine in his eyes and the tiny imperceptible tilt in his head, his words coming out of his mouth in that familiar annoying drawl. She knows it is not him, not her Leonard, not entirely but it somehow still feels the same.

"Are you sure you are alright because you look like you are in shock?" he asks her, a tiny amused smile tugging at his lips.

She would be lying to herself if she said she had not wanted this to happen but somehow everything unfolding just like she had hoped, unnerves her, unsettles her.

"I… just… your gun," she says, feigning surprise.

He narrows his eyes at her, perhaps with a hint of suspicion, "Does not concern you."

She does not understand why his answer bothers her so much, why it hurts so much, why she had expected an answer any different from this.

Cold hearted bastard.

She straightens herself up and looks him square in the eye, perhaps searching for a tiny part which contains her Leonard. He lets go of her hand and she immediately longs for the reassuring contact.

"I am Sara and-"

"Not interested," he cuts her off. "You can just walk away now and I will make sure that these bastards don't get to you. That's it."

She stares at him hopelessly, wondering how the same blue eyes could look at her so differently, so indifferently, how the same voice could spit out those words and push her away.

"O… Okay," she replies after a while, resignation in her tone.

He moves away slowly then, making way for her to leave, all the while keeping his piercing gaze fixed on her. She makes to move, somehow this moment reminiscent of her last moment with her Leonard, when all she could do was walk away and leave him behind.

"Thank you," she says, a desperate attempt at holding onto him just a little longer.

"You are welcome," he replies curtly, his body language screaming at her to just go.

She walks away, suddenly sick of Central City, 2015, sick of her life, her fate, her destiny and everything.

She hates it all.

The walk down the alley feels too long, unending. She has the urge to turn back, steal a look but she knows it will leave a pit within her that will slowly gnaw away at her existence and so she walks, her legs dragging her away.

And then there is a gunshot, a loud sound that shakes her and pierces through her numbness. Turning back she finds him collapsed on the ground, hand clutching his stomach where the bullet must have torn through him.

She flies to him and collapsing beside him, she grabs his hands desperately.

Not again.

"I told you to get the hell out of here," he tries to yell but his words die in a splutter of coughs.

She is aware of the tears rolling down her cheeks and paying him no attention, she cries, the time line the least of her concerns, "I cannot let you die because of me."

He hisses in pain and she whispers helplessly, "Don't die on me, Leonard."

His eyes widen and mingled with the pain on his face is shock. "How do you-"

And then his breathing falls flat, his eyes closing in a loud grimace.

She clutches his arm, crying futilely for him to wake up and when she detects a pulse, weak but present, she calls Mick, howling for help, alone in the cold night.

They get him into the med bay just in time and Gideon assures them a seventy percent chance at full recovery.

She collapses on the floor of the med bay then, in full sight of everyone, letting her tears claim her, hoping that they would in some way wash away the pain too.

She does not expect Rip to go easy on her and honestly, she does not care any longer about what Rip thinks.

"You jeopardized the time line, Sara," he tells her, holding back just a little because she truly looks broken.

"I am sorry," she whispers, too tired to fight, just wanting to lie down beside him in the med bay and curl up in his arms till she has time, till they have time.

"Sara-"

"Look Rip, I really am sorry," she says. "I know I messed up and I am sorry. I did not want for this to happen but it somehow did and I could not save him last time, I could not let that happen again. I-"

She breaks down into a fresh volley of tears with that.

"That's enough," Mick cuts in. "Just leave her alone, Hunter."

And he does.

They leave her alone with him, give her some of the time she could have had with him, should have had with him.

She sits in front of him, his hand tightly clasped in hers.

"I tried to save you," she starts helplessly. "Tried to save your sorry little heroic ass the last time you decided to leave all of us but Rip said that the events in the Vanishing Point could never be altered because-"

She sniffs, taking a long glance at his pallid face.

"-because no time exists there and what happens once can never be rewritten. And thanks to you, the Waverider cannot fly to all places and time like before and I could not even warn you. You are an absolute idiot, crook."

She laughs mirthlessly and then falls into a silence after that, no longer knowing what to say, no longer being able to articulate the tangled web of words in her head. She waits for a sign – a twitch of the lips, a movement of the fingers – to know that he can hear her but there is nothing.

"I wear this stupid pinky ring now," she says after a while. "It's not a keepsake, it's a reminder that even the best laid plans can go sideways but you probably already know that."

And then, "I miss you, Leonard."

The admission is soft but clear and she weeps knowing he will never know it.

There is a knock on the door and she sits up straighter, wiping off her tears.

"It's time," Mick tells her. "We will give him an amnesia pill and then get him back to a safehouse."

She nods quietly, not trusting her voice.

"Do you need another moment?" Mick asks her quietly.

"I…"

"I'll wait outside."

She curls into a ball beside him, letting her head sink into his chest. She inhales the scent of him, feels his heart beat under her, feels his breath come out steadily and then she leans in, pressing her lips against his. It is different this time: she does not get a response from him, does not get that bewildered look but it still makes her heart race.

She watches after that as Mick and the rest of the team filter in. Mick has a quiet moment with his partner before Ray mixes the amnesia pill into the IV and they all leave, bidding him a final unspoken goodbye.

She is left alone with him again and she closes the distance between them and wraps her fingers around his.

It is a hasty decision, an impulsive one and defying her conscience, defying every part of her that screams at her to stop, succumbing to her selfish desires, she whispers to him, "Will- Can you please remember this for me, Leonard?"

She startles when his fingers twitch in her grasp but she whispers nonetheless, "The Oculus has a fail-safe."