I just felt for a little H/C Legends Of Tomorrow...
(And yeah... Before any of you might scold me... I just decided that Sara is a little bi... She has a small thing for Snart...)
Leonard Snart steadied himself against an old dresser. Okay, well… Technically it was a new dresser, but they were in 1941, so it… Damn it!
They were still trying to kill Savage, and they were still as close as the first day they tried. And now? Now his leg was bleeding. Warsaw, Poland wasn't the best choice of destination in 1941, who would have thought? He squeezed his right hand against his thigh. Thick, crimson liquid slid between his fingers.
No matter how out of character it was, he felt panic rise in his chest. He was going to die, unless a miracle happened the next ten minutes or so… He WAS going to die.
He sagged down to the floor, his right hand still clasped tightly against the wound. His left hand holding the cold-gun. If any Nazis or Savage entered that door, they would turn out icicles soon enough.
Why hadn't anyone told him that getting shot hurt this much? Right about now he envied Allen his no less than awesome healing abilities…
A grunt of pain escaped his lips as something in his leg seemed to electrocute him. Possibly a fractured femur? Yeah, that sounded about right…
Something wet trickled down the side of his face. No. No, he couldn't! What if the team came in? What if the team saw him cry? He had to stop it! He had to!
But the stream became steadier, and soon enough he had no choice but to surrender to his emotions. To his weaknesses.
The door in front of him opened, a uniform clad man with the swastika on his cap blocked his view to the corridor. Len pulled the trigger, and before any of them could have said 'ice' the German soldier was turned into an icicle.
Oh, what I wouldn't give for Mick to crash through that door just about now… And for him to literally carry me back to the ship… Okay, I'll never say that out loud… I will, on the other hand bitch and moan about them helping me when I think I can make it on my own…
"Well… He's out cold…" a velvet smooth voice slurred just as Len was about to give up all his hopes.
"Yeah… You could say I had to cool down my red-hot anger…" He hated how the pain seeped through and made his voice crack. Especially in front of Sara…
"Are you…? Oh, shit!" Sara exclaimed as she threw herself to her knees beside the usually smooth-talking bad boy.
"Yeah… That was my first reaction too…" Leonard said, before he paused to reconsider his words, "After a long string of cussing and swearing…"
"Are you alright?"
"I'll be back to kicking ass in no time… But I could use something to stop that blood pouring out of my leg…"
Sara nodded and cut a strip off of the curtains, then she proceeded to tie it tightly around Leonard's upper thigh.
"Can you walk?"
"I think the bullet smashed straight through the bone too…"
"Ouch…"
"But I can hobble…"
LOTLOTLOT
The rest of the future legends were busy saving the world from Vandal Savage and Hitler. A mix no one wanted to explore…
Something squeezed tight in Sara's chest. Part unexplainable guilt, part fear of losing Leonard before something ever happened and part urge to make it all better.
The pain in Leonard's eyes made her heart ache.
"Why haven't you called any of us?"
"My earpiece fell out somewhere *wince* along the way…" he winced again and almost doubled over, "How'd you know to go looking for me?"
"Well, you're pretty hard to miss…"
A small smile spread across his lips, before another wave of pain hit him.
"I'll get Mick over here… He's strong, right?"
"I can walk!"
"No, you can't. You said it yourself, the bullet likely broke your leg too and you're white as a sheet!"
"Okay, you win… But we need to get out of here. Fast…" his exceptionally blue eyes were glued to hers.
She called up Mick over intercom and gave him a brief summary of what the problem was.
"Lean on me then handsome, and when we meet Mick… You'll let him carry you the rest of the way!"
"We'll see about that…"
They only made it to the closest door before Mick came bouncing up the stairs. Wild eyed and ready to burn up anyone that threatened to harm his friends.
"You're a special kind of stupid? Aren't you?" Mick growled to his partner in crime.
"Yadda yadda…"
"How hurt are you?"
"Just the regular bullet through my leg…"
"And they call me dense…" Mick deadpanned.
I might write some more here, but I really should do something about the other stories I've started, but have yet to finish...
Hope you liked it...