Author's Note: For the CCA Fic with a Pic prompt, "And sometimes, against all odds, against all logic, we hope," and words: aftershock, contention, blunt. Thanks so much to my partner, thoranda on Tumblr, for making an amazing gifset to go with this, and for being so encouraging and helpful! Hope you guys enjoy this!

It was Team Flash who brought him to this Earth.

Sara didn't hear his story until much later. All she got were the highlights, at first. He'd been mayor of Central City by day, and a vigilante by night. He'd dedicated his life to keeping his city safe. At first, Sara couldn't listen to more than that.

It was Harry Wells who made the introduction. They'd been friends at one time, on their Earth, and Harry was one of few privy to his secret identity. So, when Team Flash started gathering all their friends to help face the next great threat to the multiverse, he got an invitation.

And accepted it.

Barry, for all his thoughtfulness, didn't have the foresight or the opportunity to warn team Legends. When they answered the call for help, they had no idea, and no time to prepare themselves to meet the doppelgänger of a man they once knew. Once loved, and hated. Once fought beside and fought against.

He went by the same name.

He wore the same face.

He spoke with the same voice.

But he was not him.

"Snart?"

It was Mick's voice rising over the din of old friends meeting new that first warned Sara her world was about to turn upside down. That was the last moment before the ground fell out beneath her, the last moment before she first saw him.

Earth-2 Leonard Snart.

They were all familiar with the concept of the multiverse, at least, thanks to Supergirl and HR. Sara's father had told them about Laurel's doppelgänger, too, but Sara still hadn't met her. Hadn't yet felt that feeling of seeing someone she'd lost, returned – but not.

So, very not.

Because there was no recognition on his face when he looked at Mick. On his Earth, he'd never known Mick Rory at all. He'd never gone on the Waverider, or worked on their team. He had his own cold gun, but even that was different. Foreign.

And yet, the first time his eyes landed on her… Sara swore they knew her, and she knew them. She felt it, in her core – that tug, that pull that had always drawn her to him.

She'd thought it really was him. Somehow, someway. For a second.

But it wasn't him.

It wasn't.

In the aftershock of that moment, of meeting Earth-2-not-our-Leonard Snart, there was no time to explain much or even process it. They were thrown into the throes of battle almost immediately, and Sara was forced to swallow the tangled mess of feelings the sight of him had surfaced.

He fought with them like he'd always belonged.

Mick was the happiest she'd seen him in over a year. Somehow, Mick didn't seem bothered that this Snart was not actually the man they lost. He stuck close to him through the action, and used the time between battles to fill him in on everything about their team and his doppelgänger's adventures. Every now and then they'd laugh together at some joke Sara couldn't hear.

It felt wrong.

She couldn't face him. Couldn't even speak to him. So, she found Barry instead, in a quiet moment near the end.

"What were you thinking, bringing him here?" She couldn't help the anger in her voice, directed at the Scarlet Speedster.

"I was thinking…that I missed him," he said, after a heavy moment of thought. "That it would be nice if he were here. That he could help. Make a difference. And he has."

He was so sincere and earnest, it was hard to hold onto her temper. But she managed.

"He's not the same."

"I know," Barry sighed. "But…he is."

She glared at him, and Barry put his hands up, a plea of a gesture, asking her to listen.

"He grew up the same way," he said. "His father abused him and his whole family. He almost lived a life of crime. Well, he sort of did, at first. There were just a few, small changes that led him to become more light than dark. But he's got the same heart, Sara. He does."

And the same sense of humor, and the same wicked sharp smarts, or so everyone said. She couldn't bring herself within ten feet of him.

When the fighting was over, and everyone had finished saying their goodbyes, the team headed back to the Waverider. Sara was relieved to see it, for the return to normalcy she'd been craving.

Until she realized that Earth-2 Leonard was there, too, waiting for them.

"What is he doing here?" Sara demanded. She couldn't say why the sight of him made her so instantly furious.

"I asked him to come." Mick said, voice full of awe. He gaped at Earth-2 Leonard, waving to them from the top of the ramp, then shook his head, a slow smile crawling onto his face. "Son. Of. A. Bitch," he swore, smile breaking into a grin. "He actually came."

Sara's gut told her to say no.

Her feelings for Leonard had been complicated enough before. She never could sort out the memories of the man who would've killed any member of their team from the one who died for all of them. The one who saw a future with her from the one who never gave her a second glance.

And that was the same man. This was another man entirely, with none of the same memories or feelings.

But when Mick marched up the ramp and shook his hand, clapping him on the back and pulling him into a hug, like he had his lost brother back…

She couldn't turn him away like she wanted to.

So, Leonard Snart boarded the Waverider once again.

Or well, Earth-2 Leonard Snart boarded it for the first time.

For the first few weeks or so, Sara managed to avoid him.

"Good morning" was the extent of their longest conversation. She assigned him to missions without really speaking directly to him, and developed a knack for politely excusing herself from any room he wandered into. At first, Sara thought they could manage that way – co-exist, without her having to face any of her messy feelings.

She was wrong.

"Are you trying to get us all killed?"

Earth-2 Leonard's words stung, especially spoken in his voice with his drawl. Especially when she still partly blamed herself for his death.

"I'm trying to save the world," she retorted. All it got her was an eye roll.

They were planning their next mission, a volatile and dangerous one that would put them in the heart of the Revolutionary War. Not that the rest of the team hadn't been there before, but it was risky nonetheless. And this other Leonard – this imposter – was tearing holes in her plan at every turn. It was infuriating, especially since he insisted on doing it in front of the whole team.

Clearly, leadership would be a point of contention.

"You're just throwing the team in, with no way out," he argued.

"We've been worse prepared than this," Mick said, cutting in. "We've been to this time period before. We know what we're doing."

They ignored him.

"We have a way out." Sara crossed her arms over her chest, trying her best not to glare at him. Not to look at him at all, really. She failed on both counts. "You and Ray are our backup on the ship."

"It'll be great!" Ray chimed in, ever the enthusiast – not that they paid him any mind. "You can help me make everyone lunch."

Leonard stalked around the console table, coming within inches of her.

"How are we supposed to help if we're all the way out here?" he asked, voice low.

"You're not supposed to do anything," she countered.

This close, it was a struggle not to look him in his eyes, something she'd been avoiding since that first moment of false-recognition.

"You could use me," he argued.

She fought it – hard as she'd ever fought against anything. And still, his eyes found her, the piercing blue exactly how she remembered them. They unraveled her, calling up memories and feelings and attractions that had no place here, with her. Those things were dead, that part of her had died, been buried and forgotten.

And then, those same stupid, terrible, beautiful eyes put her back together again, before she even knew what was happening, and she settled in a strange sense of calm. Everything had always felt too right, made too much sense, in his eyes.

She sighed, shaking herself out of it, wrapping herself in anger once again.

"You're benched," she finished, pointing to the door. "Dismissed."

"You can't just dismiss me." He mirrored her stance, crossing his own arms and refusing to budge.

"Actually, she can," Nate inserted, mildly.

"If you don't like it, perhaps you'd prefer we take you back to 2017?" Amaya added.

Earth-2 Leonard ignored them, his eyes never leaving Sara's face. "If any of the rest of them had something to say, you'd listen," he said.

"I trust them." Sara ripped her eyes away from his at last, looking around at her team instead. "Trust is earned around here, Snart."

The name fell off her lips before Sara could catch it, carrying far too much affection with it. She hadn't meant that. She'd meant to be stern, intimidating. Instead, that one, traitorous word gave her away. Even if he hadn't heard it – couldn't know, what that name meant to her – it was enough for her to know. She couldn't keep fooling herself.

Having him on this ship was going to wreck her.

"Perhaps we should at least consider Mr. Snart's point," Martin said, fairly. Sara didn't hide her annoyance when she glared at the professor, deserved or not. "Let's at least discuss it," he reasoned.

"We don't have time to 'discuss,'" Sara snarled, rounding on him. "In a few hours, those time pirates are going to have exactly what they want and George Washington will be dead."

"I'd hate to see my old pal go down like that," Mick agreed.

Sara sighed, trying to calm herself. She was the captain – she couldn't blow up at her team. "Gideon, can you detect a better point of entry?"

"No, Captain."

"Then we proceed," Sara decided, glancing around again at her team for any other dissenters. "You're free to join us or not. But we're moving out."

She brushed by Earth-2 Leonard as she left. For a second, his eyes caught hers again, and she suppressed a shudder at the sight. They followed her, twin suns heating into her back, saying so much it felt like he'd had the last word.

Amaya fell in step beside Sara as she stalked to the fabrication room.

"You alright?" her friend asked, voice gentle with concern.

Sara sighed, dropping her anger like the lead weight it felt like. "I'm fine," she said. It sounded like the blatant lie it was.

"You cared for him," Amaya added, after a quiet moment.

Sara gave her a sidelong glance, eyebrows raised in question.

"The other Leonard Snart." Amaya smiled, sadly. "I know what that hurt feels like, Sara. It's written all over your face."

Sara felt her heart fall all the way her stomach. If it was that obvious, to someone who'd never seen her with their Leonard, what did the others think?

How would she survive this?

"I'm sorry," Amaya continued. "It can't be easy, facing someone so similar."

They walked in silence down another hall, and around a corner. Sara felt like she'd swallowed sand, like she was walking under water. But she kept her face smooth. She refused to let the emotion show – if she did, then she'd really have to face it. And she couldn't do that, not now. Maybe not ever.

"He's a good man," Amaya added, finally. "He's just trying to help."

"He's just trying to get under my skin," Sara muttered. Anger was a kind friend, and she clung to it.

Amaya smirked. "Is it working?"

"I don't mean it like that," Sara back-pedaled, but not quickly enough.

"It could be," Amaya said, raising her eyebrows. "There's definitely heat between you."

"Don't go there, Amaya."

"I'm only saying."

"Well don't," Sara snapped, peeling off at the next corner, changing course suddenly to retreat to her room. If she didn't get a little space, she was going to break.

It could be. Amaya's voice echoed in her mind.

But Sara couldn't let herself hope like that.

"He thinks you hate him," Mick said later. They were standing lookout, freezing their asses off while the others infiltrated a party.

Sara considered his words. "I don't hate him," she said, after a lengthy silence.

"Really?" Mick scoffed. "Maybe you could tell him that, if you ever decide to speak to him. 'Sides the yelling."

"I didn't yell," she argued. Mick always brought out her childish side. "Who does he think he is, anyway?" she added, fueling her temper, letting it heat her from inside and distract her from everything. "Marching in here and telling us all what to do?" She rolled her eyes. "He might've been the mayor of Central City, but he is not the mayor of the Waverider."

"He knows who he isn't," Mick said, solemnly. "Trust me. He understands that he's not replacing anybody, least of all our Snart."

"How can you do it?" Sara released the question at last – the one that had been gnawing at her from the first day Earth-2 Leonard had walked into their lives. It felt like setting down a burden. "How can you talk to him? Be around him?" She watched Mick's impassive face, even as she felt herself falling to pieces. "Doesn't it hurt you?"

He shrugged, and yet, his eyes fell, studying the ground.

"'S almost like having him back," he said, quietly.

"But it's not," she said, vehemently. "He's not the same."

"Neither am I," Mick snapped, his temper flaring. "I've changed. I'm not the same either."

For a moment, she thought he might explode on her, or at least yell. And then he took a few steadying breaths, calming himself, returning to normal. It was a proof point to his statement, considering the old Mick probably would've punched her.

"In some ways," he added, his voice quiet now, "it's better. Like a fresh start. Don't have to make the same mistakes, you know?"

Sara's mouth cemented shut, and she couldn't speak. She just stared at him.

"Sara, sometimes the universe gives you a gift, and you just accept it," Mick said. "Even if it's not what you expected, or thought you wanted."

"He's not the same," she repeated, refusing to believe him.

"You're not the same either." Mick gave her a pointed look. "When you first came on this ship, you had a lotta anger, and a lot to prove. You and Snart were a lot alike then." He nodded to himself, remembering. "But now?" he asked. "You're a leader. You have things to believe in, people to take care of." Mick gave her a crooked smile. "Just give him a chance. You might find you're a lot like this Leonard, now."

Sara had a few choice retorts to that, all of them ready to fire off her tongue. But that was about when things went south.

If it hadn't been for Earth-2 Leonard, half the team would've died that night – Sara included.

"You must have a death wish," he spat, cornering her when they finally, mercifully, made it back to the ship.

"I was doing just fine, thanks," she countered, lying, blatantly, to his face. Not that he bought it.

He threw his hands up. "That was so reckless – so stupid," he continued, like he hadn't heard her.

"Why do you even care?" she spat, seething. "Why are you even here? Don't you have a life back on your own planet?" She flung the words at him, cruelly, with sharp points aimed to kill.

Leonard deflated – visibly shrank, in response.

"No," he said, softly.

That single word, so simply uttered, threw her completely.

"What?" she blurted.

"I lost everything," he said, voice quiet and rough. "After Zoom was defeated, people didn't want the 'tough guy' mayor anymore. They wanted someone softer, more relatable." A rueful smile played at his lips. "And when Jesse Quick came back, they didn't want the vigilante, either. They wanted a hero of the light.

"No one needed me anymore."

Sara blinked, reeling.

"I joined your team because I hoped that I could still be useful, somehow," he said. "I thought maybe somewhere in the multiverse, someone might need me."

He sighed, staring at her for one more hard, tense moment before pushing past her.

"Guess that someone's not you," he muttered.

And then he was gone.

It was a full day before Sara could face him again. A day to think about what he'd said. To consider things from his perspective. To gather her courage to give him the apology he deserved.

She found him sitting alone in the galley, late, long after everyone else had turned in for the night.

"Do you play cards?" she asked, holding up a deck.

"Sure," Leonard allowed, though he didn't look at her as he gestured to the table before him. "What's your game?"

"Gin Rummy," she said, before she could stop herself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. It was a terrible idea. It was bound to destroy her, calling up memories like this. But she didn't know what else to do.

So she shuffled, and dealt. They played a hand, and then another, silence stretching between them.

"I'm sorry," she said, finally. "You were right, and I should've listened to you. And, I shouldn't have been such a jerk."

He quirked an eyebrow, but nodded. "Thank you," he said.

"You know about…him," she continued, swallowing. "That's why I've been acting, well, let's go with 'poorly.'"

"I figured," Leonard said, drawing a card, only to put it back again. "The others told me everything."

She glanced at him from behind her cards, to find him watching her.

"But not everything, I'm guessing," he added, his tone speaking clearly where his words didn't. He could tell, or guessed, there'd been something between her and the other Leonard.

She re-arranged her cards, stalling. "There were some things they didn't know about," she agreed, finally.

"Sara," he said, and she froze at the sound of her name coming out of his mouth. It sent shivers up and down her spine, just like when he'd said it.

Leonard set his cards on the table, face down, removing the paper barrier between them.

"I need to tell you something," he continued. She let her cards fall to her lap, let herself study him instead. He had such a serious look on his face, with so much intent behind his eyes. It reminded her forcibly of the time he'd asked her about me, and you, and me and you…

"I knew your doppelgänger on my Earth, too," he said.

She gaped at him. "You knew my…what?"

"We were close," he added, as if she hadn't spoken. "Very close."

Sara frowned, hands gripping her cards. He'd…known her? All this time, he had been facing the same demons she had?

"Were you…?" she asked, trailing off.

Together? went unspoken.

But he still heard it.

"Almost," he said. He shrugged, eyes dropping to the floor. "But no. I lost her."

Sara's mind went blank, and her mouth went dry. "You…lost her?"

On his earth, I…she…died?

Leonard started, realizing what she meant.

"To someone else," he clarified, quickly. "She's still alive. Sorry."

"Oh," Sara breathed. She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Who?" she asked, too stunned to think through the question.

The corner of his mouth twitched up into a half-smile. "I'd rather not say." He picked his cards back up, scanning them, and placed one in the dispile.

Sara followed suit, resuming their game and trying to shake the strange feeling that had settled over her. "What," she said, tone turning joking despite herself, "afraid I'll go chasing after him?"

"Her." He smirked. "And maybe."

They exchanged a few more turns before Sara's curiosity pushed forward. "Why didn't it work?" she asked, "with you and…the other Sara?"

He sighed, stretching his arms back behind his head. "She wanted more stability than I could provide," he explained. "My life wasn't, well, normal enough for her. That's the short answer, anyway."

Sara considered it, another half-question popping before she could stop it. "Did you ever…?"

"No," he answered, quickly, not needing the full question. He glanced at her, before planting his eyes firmly on his cards. "We kissed once. That was it."

He paused, selecting a card before putting it back in his hand. "How about you and him?" he asked, lightly, still not looking at her.

"We kissed once," she echoed. "We were almost, too. Then…you know."

"He got himself killed like a big, dumb hero," Leonard agreed, setting a card down. Finally, he met her eyes, frowning at whatever he saw there. "That's what the you from my Earth always used to say I'd do."

It was blunt, and terrible, and she laughed, belly deep. She laughed until tears sprang from her eyes, until she rolled over from it, clutching her gut. He chuckled, too, eventually, watching her.

"That wasn't funny," she said, when she could catch her breath. "But it is what I thought after he died." She shook her head, unable to understand how light she suddenly felt, like she was floating.

"Part of the reason I wanted to join the team was you," he admitted, suddenly. "I saw you, and I couldn't help it."

Sara sobered, and quickly. She met Leonard's eyes, felt the same pull she always did, and she understood.

"Did you think," she started, before correcting herself, "do you think, we could have a second chance, or something?"

"Or something," he murmured. "I lost everything, Sara. I think you can relate to that. So you'll understand that I wanted," he paused, tilting his head, "want something to hope for. Don't you?"

"I haven't hoped for very much in a long time," she said. "I'm not sure if I remember how."

Leonard raised his eyebrows, his blue eyes shining. "I'll show you."

She held her breath for a moment, feeling her heartbeat pound through her chest.

"We'll see," she said, finally.

He inclined his head, a small nod to acknowledge so many things they'd just said without saying at all, known without explaining how.

"Gin," he said, a while later. He laid down his cards and stood up from the table, giving her one, last, lingering look. "Goodnight, Sara."

She watched him walk away, a funny sense of déjà vu hanging over her.

"Goodnight, Leonard."

After that, somehow, things got a little bit easier.

The fact that this Leonard had known and lost another version of her, even if it wasn't the same as what she'd been through… It made Sara feel less alone in the tug of war over her heart. It made her feel like he understood, even just the slightest, what she was going through, and that understanding bridged the canyons she'd tried to dig between them.

They settled into a rhythm, and even if he still made her feel uneasy at times – both for the memories he conjured, and the attraction between them – she avoided him less, and he sought her out more. Carefully, though. He was always quick to sense when being around him was too much for her, and gave her space when she needed it, without her even asking.

Slowly, Sara began to see him less and less as a source of pain, and more and more as a kindred spirit.

Like everyone had said, he was a lot like the Leonard she'd known. Except he was more charming, and less acerbic. More willing to play nice with others, but even less willing to back down when he really believed something. And Mick was right. They did have a lot in common.

They were both leaders, and that meant they butted heads more often than not. Leonard was constantly questioning her, challenging her, and even if she hated to admit it – making her better. The longer he was on the ship, their fights had less bite to them, and more banter. She found herself enjoying them.

Eventually, she found out that they'd both lost a sister. On his Earth, Lisa had been killed by Zoom. She'd been murdered in retribution, when Leonard had refused to cave to Zoom's demands. The loss haunted Leonard as much as it fueled him, and Sara could certainly relate to that. She told him about Laurel, about Damien Dahrk and the choice she'd made to leave reality unchanged, even though it cost her. They would both live with their choices, Leonard said, and as much as they could, make the loss mean something. And so, another bridge formed between them.

They were both stubborn, both fighters, both clever and sharp. As much as Sara tried to keep her distance, they grew closer by the day.

They had other uncanny similarities – and they didn't go missed by their teammates.

"You met Oliver, right?" Ray asked one day, stopping short in the middle of his own Atom origin story.

Sara had barely been paying attention – she'd heard the story at least a dozen times, and it always took Ray at least twenty minutes to tell it. But she perked at the question, glancing up from her food to see Ray pointing at Leonard.

"You've got a lot in common, you know," Ray commented. "He's the mayor of Star City – that name was totally me, by the way. Genius, right? Anyway, he's a vigilante by night, too. Kinda weird, right? I mean, come on, how many mayors are vigilantes?" Ray grinned. "Oh, and he used to date Captain Lance here."

The men turned to look at her in unison, Ray still grinning like a goof, Leonard with one eyebrow raised, the beginnings of a smirk playing at his lips.

"Did he?" Leonard asked, meeting her eyes, voice low and teasing.

"That's not something they have in common, Ray," Sara pointed out, leveling him with her best captain's glare – a warning to shut up.

Ray chose to ignore it. "It isn't?" he asked innocently. "But you're always flirting."

Sara felt her face heat and her neck flush. She'd be giving Ray double galley duty for this.

"We're always fighting," she clarified, failing to keep the annoyance from her tone.

Ray frowned. "Flirting, fighting," he shrugged. "I thought that was the same thing for you guys."

Leonard's smirk grew, starting to look dangerously like a true smile with the way his eyes were dancing.

Sara would've liked to shut them both down with a smart remark, but her brain wasn't cooperating with her mouth. All she could do was roll her eyes, stand, and leave the room with as much of her dignity as possible.

If she'd stayed, she would've seen Leonard slip Ray a twenty dollar bill.

"How long are you going to keep paying me for saying things like that to her?" Ray asked him, pocketing it.

"Long as it takes," Leonard said.

"But we're friends," Ray protested, clapping the other man on the shoulder. "I told you I'd help you for free."

"I know," Leonard agreed. "But Jax charges to take over galley shifts, and I'm guessing you'll get a few extra for that."

Ray gulped. Their captain really knew how to hold a grudge.

"What is she like?" Sara asked Leonard, finally. It was a question that had been nagging at the back of her mind from the moment she'd found out about her Earth-2 self.

"She's an attorney," he replied, not needing to ask who she meant.

They were enjoying a day off for once, in a quiet park Gideon had landed them at somewhere in present day Hub City. The entire team was outside, grilling, playing frisbee, or dozing in the sun. Sara and Leonard were sitting under a tree, both preferring shade. A breeze played at Sara's face and hair, and she tucked a stray strand behind her ear.

"An attorney, huh?" she said. "I guess she didn't go on The Gambit with Oliver Queen?"

"No," Leonard confirmed. He dropped his eyes, giving her the sense he was sorry for it. "Things happened a little differently."

"I always wondered what I would've done with my life if I hadn't gone on that ship," she said. "But an attorney?" She stuck her tongue out. "Boring."

Leonard chuckled. "You're anything but," he agreed. He sighed, glancing at Sara out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention to the grass, picking a blade and spinning it between his fingers.

"You're fiercer than her," he said, after a moment of quiet. "Braver," he added. "And," he glanced at her again before continuing. "More beautiful."

Sara snorted. "Please," she scoffed. "We look the same."

"I'll be the judge of that," he said, mouth curving up in a smile. "Beauty is about more than just looks, you know."

"You're just trying to butter me up."

"Is it working?"

She let out a huff of a laugh, amused despite herself.

"You're softer than he was," she said, eventually, even though he hadn't asked. "Kinder."

"I thought I was an asshole in all universes?" Leonard teased. It was Mick's favorite thing to say whenever he was being particularly snarky – but it was meant affectionately, they all knew.

"You are," she agreed, trying and failing to keep a straight face. "It's just harder to hate you for it."

"Ah," he said, "so you don't hate me?"

"Not always." Sara smiled. "This may come as a surprise, but I do like you."

The statement came out sounding more like a confession than she'd meant it, and he paused, the energy between them suddenly shifting from playful to serious.

"Do you?" he said, but it wasn't really a question. He was studying her too carefully now, and she was sure he'd moved just a little bit closer.

I'm not her, she almost said, to stop him, to push him away. But she caught herself. He knew who she was, and who she wasn't. Sara wondered if he wished she was her other self, though, the pit dropping out of her stomach at the thought, and –

Was she jealous of her doppelgänger?

"We weren't quite right for each other, me and her," Leonard said, suddenly, as if reading her mind. "I don't know about you and him, but –"

"I'm not sure we'd be right anymore, either," Sara admitted, cutting him off. The words surprised her. She hadn't realized they were true until she'd said them.

"I've changed, a lot, since he died," she added. "Grown a lot. I don't know if we'd really fit the same."

Leonard leaned in closer at that, and tilted his head toward her. She watched his eyes, so dark as they met hers.

"How about me and you?" he asked, voice low.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Me and you.

For a moment, she could hardly think – hardly breathe, and she felt like she'd swallowed her heart whole.

"Hey guys!" Nate called, and Sara started, jerking her head in his direction. He was waving at them from across the park, grinning like an idiot who had no idea what he'd interrupted. "Food's ready!" he added, and then yelped as Amaya smacked him on the side of the head, dragging him back toward the others.

Sara stood anyway, brushing herself off, looking anywhere but at Leonard.

But he wasn't going to be deterred that easily. He watched her, waiting until she met his eyes again, the intensity there telling her he still wanted an answer.

She wanted to say no.

She wanted to shut him down even more effectively than she'd shut down the other Leonard, when he'd brought up me and you. Instead, what came out of her mouth was:

"We'll see."

Leonard smiled, in that annoyingly smug, satisfied way of his, nodding before turning to join the others.

All Sara could do was bite her lip, shaking her head at herself.

What had she done?

Sara was afraid she'd given Leonard too much to hope for. She knew she was giving in to the hope too much herself.

What was worse, that was the same night Sara started having nightmares again.

She'd always had nightmares, since The Gambit, and especially since dying. But they'd been less and less frequent since she'd taken over as captain of the Waverider – since she'd embraced the sense of purpose that came with it.

Until now.

At first, she'd wake with her heart racing, not remembering the vague terrors that haunted her sleep. Then, as they days passed, the dreams grew more and more vivid, until she woke screaming, certain they were true.

That was how she found herself at his door, letting herself into his room in the middle of the night, with no warning.

"Leonard!" she cried, heart racing and chest heaving as she sucked in gasps of air.

He shot up in his bed, a silhouette in the darkness, watching her in surprise.

"Sara?"

She rushed to him, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest.

"You're okay," she sighed, too relieved to feel embarrassed that the words sounded like a whimper. "It was just a dream." Sara closed her eyes, trying to calm herself with that fact. It only made her squeeze him harder.

He hesitated a moment, then wrapped his arms around her, too.

"Are you alright?" he murmured, resting a hand tentatively on her head.

"I'm sorry," she said into his chest. "I had a nightmare. It was just so real, I…" she swallowed, shuddering against the memory. "I had to make sure."

"What was the nightmare?" Leonard's voice was soothing in her ear, the balm to the fear still pounding in her chest. He ran a comforting hand up and down her back, calming her.

She pulled her face out of his chest, just slightly, her forehead still resting on him as she stared down into the darkness, remembering all too clearly.

"You died," she said, her voice small, "and it was my fault. It was my fault again."

Leonard paused, his hand stopping in the middle of her back.

"You mean him?" he asked.

Sara pulled back, lifting her head up to look at his face, his eyes shining in the darkness.

Leonard thought she was confused. He thought she was mistaking him for his Earth-1 self.

"No," she whispered. "The dream was about you." She ran her hand up his chest, clutching at the fabric. "I know I lost him, and I've accepted that. But I dreamed I lost you, and I…" She let her eyes fall shut, seeing it again. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Leonard pulled her back into his arms, stroking her hair with one hand, his other secured at her waist.

"It was just a dream," he agreed. "I'm okay; you're okay. We're okay." She nodded with his words, sighing with another wave of relief.

Slowly, Leonard lowered them back against the pillows, until she was laying half on top of him and half beside him, one arm looped around her as his other hand stayed tangled in her hair.

"Can I stay?" she asked, surprised at how much she suddenly needed to.

"Of course," he murmured. He freed a hand just long enough to fish the covers up and over them, and Sara shivered against the warmth before settling in even closer to him.

"It wasn't your fault that he died," Leonard said after a while. "You don't blame yourself, do you?"

"Sometimes, I do," Sara said. "I was the last one who saw him. I was the last one who could've done something, anything. Could've convinced him to leave, maybe. But I didn't." Her words were harsh, full of all the self-hate she felt every time she remembered that moment.

"If he was even a little like me," Leonard said, "there was nothing you could've done. He made his choice, and you never would've convinced him otherwise. The decision was his, and I'm sure he was glad to know you'd be alright."

Sara hummed, not sure if she'd ever really believe that, or let go of the guilt. But there was something healing about hearing it from his voice, from someone who knew him better than probably anyone – even if the two Leonards had never technically met.

"Well," she said, running her fingers idly over his chest. "It's you I'm worried about tonight."

He pulled her in a little closer. "I'm not going anywhere."

Sara woke with a start, the cabin lights bright and the bed surprisingly empty.

"I brought breakfast," Leonard explained from the door, holding up two cups of coffee.

"Since when does coffee qualify as breakfast?" she teased, accepting the mug he held out for her and taking a sip. She hummed in contentment, before frowning at the thought that he knew exactly how she took her coffee.

"Here." He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out an orange, offering it to her. "Now you know what a chef I am," he added, smiling with his eyes.

"Yes," she agreed, accepting it, "I see cooking wasn't part of the mayor's job description."

"No." He smirked, sitting down beside her on the bed. "I have many, many other skills to make up for it. I hope to show them all to you, someday," he added, and Sara rolled her eyes at the innuendo.

"In the meantime," he continued, "Ray is making pancakes if you want a bigger breakfast. And I promise, Mick isn't helping this time."

Sara chuckled into her coffee, remembering the disastrous results of their last cooking effort. "Good."

They drank in silence for a while, as Sara gathered her thoughts.

"About last night…" she started, glancing at Leonard for his reaction. He just raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to go on.

"I don't want to confuse you," she continued, "but I don't think I'm ready for this," she motioned to the air between them. "Yet," she added.

Leonard took a sip of his coffee, watching her before replying. "Yet?" he asked.

Sara smirked. "That's what you're taking away from what I just said?"

"That was the most important part of what you just said," he replied, fairly. Then he shrugged, hint of a smile curving at his lips. "I'll be here when you are."

Just then, Leonard's door slid open, and they both turned to find Mick standing in the doorway.

For a moment, Mick just stood there, eyes moving between Leonard and Sara and back again.

Then he grinned.

"I knew it," Mick said, letting out a bark of a laugh. "'Bout time, too!"

Sara sighed. "It's not what it looks like, Mick," she said, avoiding Leonard's eyes.

Mick's face fell as he looked between them again, taking in the very few inches of space between them, the way their knees were touching, the mussed bed covers and Sara's mussier hair.

"It's not?" he asked, words endearingly disappointed.

"Unfortunately, not," Leonard confirmed. Sara glowered at him for that, but he just smirked. "Yet," he added, for Mick's benefit.

Mick sighed, throwing his hands up and turning away. "Great," he grumbled, as the door slid shut. "Now I owe Jax twenty bucks."

Sara's nightmares grew less and less frequent after that, although she still found herself at Leonard's door every now and then. He always let her into his bed, always comforted her, no questions asked.

The nightmares weren't always about him, though. Leonard listened as she told him about them, about The Gambit, about Lian Yu, about dying. She told him about every secret fear in the corners of her heart, and he accepted them with understanding. And in return, he told her his. He told her about his father, about the abuse, and losing his mother. He told her about the men he'd killed as a vigilante, the regrets and sorrows he carried.

In the darkness, the secrets were shared so easily, and Sara began to feel like she knew him far better than she'd known anyone else on the ship, past or present.

Even though she always managed to slip away before the morning came, they grew closer.

They grew so close, it wasn't even a question the day she took a bullet for him, in the middle of a mission gone wrong. She didn't think twice about it, and didn't hesitate. Protecting him was as natural as breathing. His voice rang in her ears as she fell, chanting her name as darkness closed in around her. If it had been the last thing she'd ever heard, she wouldn't have regretted it.

When her eyes finally opened again, she found herself in his bed. It was the first time she'd been there during the day since that first morning, and for a moment, she peered around in confusion.

"What happened?" she croaked, groaning against the soreness in her limbs.

"You were shot," Leonard reminded her. He was stretched out beside her, a book in his hands. He set it down to turn on his side, facing her. "You've been out for a whole day," he added. "Gideon nearly couldn't revive you." He paused, concern twisting his features. "She says you're fine now," he continued, voice low and small, maybe remembering when her life had been in question. "You just need some rest."

Sara nodded, stretching, testing her muscles. "Thanks for taking care of me," she said, knowing with certainty that he had.

"Sara," he said, drawing her attention back to him. His eyes were dark, his brow furrowed, his mouth a hard line. "You almost died for me. Why did you do that?"

She blinked, considering it. Because I'd rather die than lose you, she thought.

When she looked back, she realized how close he was to her, the way he was leaning over her on one arm, his eyes watching her, waiting.

It only took a little effort to prop herself up on her elbows, and close the little distance between them.

"You know why," she said, softly.

She looked into his eyes, remembering the canyons they'd crossed to get to this moment. She reached a hand up, placing it behind his head, drawing him closer still.

"Why?" he insisted, but it was a quiet insistence, even as their noses touched, and her eyes closed.

And then she was kissing him, and he was kissing her, and she showed him why, again, and again.

"Do you think some people are meant to be together, no matter what?" she asked him, when they finally came up for air.

Because now, no matter what shape their lives took, she couldn't imagine ending up with anyone but him.

"I think I must love you in every universe," he murmured, kissing her again. "I know in this one, I do."

She smiled against his lips. "Show me," she demanded.

He hummed, drawing her close. "That's what I was hoping you'd say."