Author's Note: Thank you again to everyone who is still reading this! I'm sorry it's been such a long time since the last update – this chapter really fought me. Please let me know if you're still with me here and enjoying this! Seriously, every favorite, follow and review makes my day.

Welcome to Earth-20.

There was no time for doubt.

And if Leonard was shocked at the sight of his partner – who wasn't actually his partner – what felt like hours after he'd laid down his life for him, well, there wasn't time for shock either. And yet...

"They must've drugged me too," he snapped. "That's impossible."

"Maybe not," Sara argued. "Iris was talking like…like we'd grown up together. Barry wants to kill us." She paused, swallowing. "Did you see Barry, too?"

Leonard glanced down at her, his stomach tightening with concern. She still wasn't right, he could tell – she was speaking too slowly, searching for words, her hand clinging to his shirt for support.

"Well, I was assaulted by a psycho who looked like Barry," he hedged. "But –"

"But nothing," Mick (Mickey? Really?) growled. "We've gotta get out of here before – shit."

Shouts cut him off, and then – more shouts, louder, echoed by footsteps slapping down the hall.

"Before that?" Leonard deadpanned.

"Get down, you snarky asshole!" Mick shouted, waiting just a breath for Leonard to drag Sara to the ground before he fired.

Except it wasn't a bullet that left Mick's hand. He wasn't even holding a gun. It was literal fire, roaring from Mick in a stream far greater than his heat gun had ever created, building into a wall and shielding them from the doorway.

"We've been made!" Mick yelled, his voice dim over the crackling flame. "Go – I can't hold this forever!"

Leonard scrambled to his feet, pulling Sara with him as he dodged the radiating heat from Mick's fire. They couldn't leave the way they'd come – Mick was making sure of that – so Leonard raced to the back of the warehouse, stumbling through the dark with Sara at his side. She was struggling, tripping over herself even as he dragged them along. They did this to her, Leonard thought, darkly, hoping Mick would burn the whole place down.

"Where's the door?" he cried, skidding to a halt before a wall. Behind them, the roar of Mick's flamethrower had vanished, replaced by a sudden crash and a quieter, sinister crackling. Leonard took a breath and inhaled smoke instead.

"Get back!" Mick ordered, rushing up beside them. He held out his hand, palm up, and a spark of light materialized on it. Leonard watched as the red spark turned orange, then white, morphing into a sphere before Mick chucked it at the wall. For a second, a white tail sailed through the air, sparks lighting up the darkness, and then –

"Look out!"

– it exploded, crashing through the wall and hurtling them to the floor.

"How's that for a door?" Mick snarked, as Leonard peeled himself off the ground. Beside him, Sara let out a grunt of pain. Before them was a small opening in the wall, flames licking out from the edges.

"How about an exit that's not on fire?" Leonard snapped, half helping and half pulling Sara to her feet. She lost her footing almost as soon as she found it, sagging under a fit of coughs.

"Stop being a baby and let's go!" Mick roared, ducking through the opening.

Smoke hung thickly around them now. The crackle of flames behind them was getting louder, lighting the warehouse with a dim, orange glow. But none of that could mask the pop of a gunshot, or the shouts that rose up with it, following them through the fire.

Leonard turned to Sara, heart turning over in his chest at the sight of her red face, covered in sweat and twisted with pain. "You can't run."

"I'm trying," she panted. "The ground just needs to stop moving."

"I'll take care of that," he said, scooping her into his arms.

"I'm not a damsel," Sara muttered as he staggered forward, and Leonard let out a huff of a laugh. She was surprisingly light, and terrifyingly fragile like this, without her strength – at least she still had her bravado.

"And I'm no white knight," he countered. But aren't you, for her? said a little voice in his head.

If he'd glanced down at Sara then, he would have seen something close to wonder on her face. As it was, he kept his focus forward, ducking through the burning doorway into safety.

The air outside the warehouse was crisp and cool. Leonard drank it in big, heaving gulps, his lungs and legs and back burning. For all his urgency, Mick was just standing there, holding up a hand for them to wait.

Leonard paused, securing his hold on Sara and watching as Mick pulled a flask from his coat.

"Now isn't a good time for a shot, Mick!" he hissed.

Mick just rolled his eyes, spilling the flask's contents across the doorway. Then he snapped his fingers, and just like that, a small flame appeared, floating from his thumb like a human lighter. He held it to the ground until it caught, the flame quickly spreading and suddenly covering the entire opening, growing until the whole wall was roaring with fire.

"That oughtta hold 'em. For now," Mick said. He opened his coat, tucking the flask back inside –

And a bullet pierced through the fire, shooting a hole right in his pocket.

Leonard flinched back, holding Sara closer to his chest, unwillingly impressed that Mick hadn't moved at all.

"Well, fire don't stop bullets, I 'spose," Mick shrugged, unfazed, dropping the flask in his other pocket instead. Still, he backed away from the wall and motioned for Leonard to follow.

They darted into the night. The full moon was setting, the world growing darker. Leonard stumbled, struggling to see his way until Mick summoned another flame to his hand. He held it aloft like a torch, lighting a path around the rows and towers of crates until they reached a shipping container large enough to provide some cover.

"We need a plan," Leonard gasped, catching his breath. Carefully, he set Sara down on her feet. She swayed, and he wrapped an arm tightly around her, a dozen terrible outcomes buzzing through his mind. "How are we going to get out of here?"

"Not a lotta options, I'm afraid," Mick said. "They'll have us surrounded, soon."

Leonard snorted. "Thanks to your fire. That must have raised the alarms."

"My fire saved your sorry ass," Mick countered. "We'll just have to risk making a run for it."

Leonard walked down the path of that plan in his mind. Sara was leaning heavily against him, her breaths coming out in short, ragged gasps. She couldn't run, and Leonard didn't trust his strength, either. She'd been drugged. He'd been beaten. The adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay for now, but he knew he'd feel it soon. If they made a run for it now…they'd never make it out alive.

"The speakeasy," Leonard said, suddenly, turning over the beginnings of a new plan. "We go through the speakeasy. In disguises," he added. "We'll walk out the front door."

"The bar?" Mick balked. "It's full of people."

"Drunk, unsuspecting people," Leonard agreed. "We'll slip right through them. Is there a back way in?"

Mick nodded, slowly, considering. Then he let out a bark of laughter. "You're just as crazy as my Lenny," he said. "But that just might work."

"It has to," Leonard said, grip tightening on Sara. "Here's the plan –" Leonard started, but Mick was already running again.

"Gonna have to trust me this time, boss," Mick called, and Leonard had no choice but to follow. He swept Sara up again, ignoring her small sigh of protest, and trailed Mick between pallets of crates.

He was slower with Sara in his arms, his muscles tight and groaning, and several times he lost sight of Mick's shadowy form. Once or twice, searching through the darkness, he thought he saw a flash of blue light out of the corner of his eye.

When that happened, for a moment, he found himself remembering a dream. He remembered a buzzing and a warmth. He remembered a blue ocean of light. It came to him with a sense of being followed by more than just men. But then Leonard would see the flick of Mick's coat disappear around a corner, and he'd race to catch up, the dream and the light forgotten.

Eventually, Mick paused at the edge of a pallet, checking for pursuers before sprinting for the wall of another building. Leonard traced his steps, heart thudding painfully. He hated being exposed, even under the cover of darkness.

"How far?" he whispered, back pressed to the wall as they crawled along it, searching for the door.

"Here," Mick answered, as the doorway surfaced into view. "I'll get it," he added, nodding at the lock, "since you got your hands full."

Leonard swallowed back his relief, turning his attention to Sara. "How're you feeling?" he murmured.

"I'll be fine," she said, blinking up at him. "Seriously," she added, lifting a hand to brush his cheek. He flinched from the small gesture, his face blooming with pain. Bruised, probably, he realized. He tried to cover it, leaning back into her touch, but Sara wasn't fooled. "I'm more worried about you," she whispered.

"Let's go, love birds!" Mick barked, ushering them through the now-open door and closing it behind them.

The darkness was somehow thicker inside, overwhelming in its silence. Mick's warehouse fire hadn't reached here, not yet at least. As if reading his thoughts, Mick snapped his fingers, sparking a small flame for them to see by.

"It's this way," he said, pointing to a hall off to the left. "Just gotta watch out for any –"

"Over there!" another voice shouted.

For all his concern for her, Sara practically leapt from Leonard's arms at the sound of the threat, crouching into a ready position as soon as her feet hit the ground. She was sweating, panting, swaying on her feet – but her eyes were sharp, her mouth resolved, her glare unrelenting.

"Oh hey, fellas," Mick drawled, turning casually and scratching his head, as if three men were not barreling down a hallway straight for him. "We're a little lost, can you point us to the bar?"

The men kept running for them, pulling out guns as they went.

"Really?" Mick complained. "Who's a guy gotta roast to get a drink around here?"

Leonard pulled Sara back around a corner for cover, stepping in front to shield her, deaf to her protests. From their angle, they watched Mick fight gunfire with literal fire, shooting bursts of flame from his hands like miniature grenades. He laughed as he worked, his eyes lighting up with exhilaration, just like the Mick that Leonard had known his whole life. He was so familiar in that moment, dodging shots and taking goons down with his flames, that for an instant, Leonard felt like he had his old partner back.

And then another man materialized from the shadows, his gun trained right on Mick's unsuspecting back. He was going to shoot him, and Mick would never see it coming.

"Mick!" Leonard cried, rushing to help even as his brain screamed at him to stop, that it wasn't his partner in trouble. It didn't matter. All Leonard could see in that moment was his oldest friend, about to die before his eyes.

He collided with the goon, pushing him down just as a wild shot fired. The man struggled, grunting and clawing at Leonard from the ground. He was bigger than Leonard – a mammoth of a man, and Leonard was already tired and hurt as it was. The man jabbed at Leonard's side, digging into a fresh bruise, and Leonard cringed at the wave of pain. He let up enough to be tossed to the floor.

"You dirty traitor," the man spat, training his gun on Leonard.

"Lenny!" Mick bellowed, but it was too late – the man was already taking aim and –

A bright blast shot through the darkness, knocking the gunman off his feet and sending him crashing into the others. They all fell, unconscious, to the ground.

Leonard and Mick turned to find Sara standing over it all, her face resolute even as her chest heaved with effort. Her arm was still outstretched, a gauntlet from the A.T.O.M. suit strapped to her wrist and smoking from the shot.

"Where were you hiding that?" Leonard gasped, accepting Mick's hand up.

Sara brought her wrist to her face, smiling at the tech. "In my garter," she said, winking at him. "You inspired me."

"Get a room," Mick grumbled. "After we get out of this."

Sara nodded, putting up a strong front, but Leonard could see her body trembling from exertion.

"Stop pushing yourself," he said, taking her by the hand and refusing to let her swat him away. Together, they limped down the hallway, Leonard offering all the support he could muster. Somehow, he felt stronger with her by his side.

Mick led them to an empty office near the end of the hall, gesturing for them to sit on a small couch while he rifled through desk drawers and cabinets. They slumped together in the middle, shoulder to shoulder, catching their breaths. The room was dim and shadowy, a single desk lamp casting them in the safe bubble of its quiet, yellow glow. Leonard's heart slowed despite himself, uneasily comforted from this respite in the eye of the storm.

"We're getting out of this."

Leonard turned at the sound of Sara's voice in his ear. She was watching him intently, her eyes bright and burning. After everything she'd been through – risking her life to pull him from the timestream, falling to another world, getting kidnapped and drugged – she was still bound and determined to save him, with no thought for herself.

"Yes, we are," he agreed. Gently, he unstrapped the A.T.O.M. gauntlet from her wrist. "You've done so much for me," he said, attaching it to his own arm. "Let me take care of you this time."

She shook her head, frowning, reaching back for the device. "But –"

Leonard caught her hand in his. "Please."

It was a whisper and a plea and a prayer.

She sucked in a breath, tightening her grip on his hand.

"Leonard, I need to tell you something," she said, faltering. "If we don't make it –"

He frowned at her sudden doubt. "We're going to make it."

"But if we don't," she insisted, "I need you to know that –" Her voice broke. She looked up at him with those burning eyes, her mouth hanging open, waiting for words that wouldn't come.

"I know," Leonard said, softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I know."

"Here," Mick interrupted, and Sara stilled, her mouth snapping shut. Mick was holding out a small, yellow pill. "They drugged you, right?" he asked. "I can tell what they used by your sweats," he added, when Sara didn't move. "They keep the antidote on hand. It'll help."

"How did you know that?" Sara asked, hesitating.

"I used to work here," Mick said, his voice low and weary. "So did the other you." His eyes shifted to Leonard. "My Lenny went by Johnny Cold, right-hand man to the boss, Joey Falzone. Barry Allen's cover name," he explained. "He was Barry's adviser for years. Until you came along," he glanced at Sara. "Well, other you. Lenny betrayed one mob family to join another. And it wasn't a pretty exit."

"You followed him to the other side?" Leonard asked, the night's events beginning to make a semblance of sense. "The other me?"

Mick paused, his expression darkening. "I had my reasons to leave," he said. "Lenny was one of them, yes."

Leonard hummed, another question suddenly fighting for attention. "How did you even know we were here tonight?"

"Palmer," Mick said, simply. "Those brothers gab worse than any dames." He sighed, rolling his eyes at the thought. "Robert told Raymond, who called me, because the two of you aren't even supposed to be in the country. I called the perfessor after that. Hearin' about alternate earths makes my head hurt, but I guess he saw something on some fancy radar of his, so we knew you weren't from here." He paused, shrugging off his story. "Do you want the antidote or not?"

"Thank you," Sara said, plucking the pill from Mick's still outstretched hand and popping it in her mouth.

Mick just grunted in reply, turning to rummage in a closet. "Here," he said, after a moment, handing over coats and hats. "We've gotta go. Time is running out."

There was only one other door at the end of the hallway. It led backstage, then out to the platform where the band was still performing, the crooning of brass instruments melting over the bouncing jazz of piano. The tinkle of laughter rose over it all, teasing the promise of safety on the other side.

"Ready?" Mick asked, tipping his fedora down over his face. They'd have to slip past the band unnoticed, then make it to the opposite end of the bar.

"Born ready," Leonard drawled.

Mick rolled his eyes. "I'm about sick of your sass."

Leonard ignored him, turning to Sara. She was standing on her own two feet, her hair tucked in a felt cloche and her fur coat covering her chin. She looked grudgingly adorable as she nodded, half her face lost in hat or fur. But her expression was resolved, and her eyes were bright, ready.

They slipped through the door, hugging the wall as they crept past the curtain. The crowd was thinner now than when they'd been kidnapped, and drunker. Bar patrons were dancing wildly, the band absorbed in their furiously upbeat tune. The tightness in Leonard's chest relaxed. They were going to make it. No one would notice them in this.

Then his eyes met a familiar face from across the bar.

Too late, he realized who it was.

Julian.

Guilt and anger slithered down Leonard's throat, settling in his stomach like a rock. He should've killed that snake when he'd had the chance. Now they'd been made.

"They're here!" Julian shouted, pointing right at them.

The music stopped, and all eyes turned to the three of them, standing on the platform with the band, faces set with grim determination.

"Time for plan B," Mick muttered. Then he stuck his fist up in the air. "Everyone get down!" he bellowed. "This is a stick up!"

Mick blasted balls of fire into the ceiling, and Leonard followed suit. Bright bursts of light from the A.T.O.M. gauntlet joined Mick's fire, sending chandeliers crashing to the floor. The bar patrons scrambled, yelling and screaming as they hurried out of the way, tossing over tables and smashing their glasses. The bartenders reached for rifles behind the bar, but Mick was ready for them, burning their weapons out of their hands before they could retaliate.

Unfortunately, Julian was faster than that. He spun out of range of Mick's fire, shooting his gun wildly in their direction. Leonard retaliated, but the A.T.O.M. gauntlet was difficult to aim, the angle unfamiliar and awkward from his wrist. He shot a few errant blasts around Julian's feet, pushing the man back into the bar. Aiming for Julian's head, he hit the shelf above him instead, breaking the mirror and sending bottles crashing down. Julian was buried in a heap of broken glass.

"Remind me to thank Palmer when we get back!" Leonard yelled.

"If yours is anything like mine, don't!" Mick replied. "His head is big enough!" Then he was gone, pushing into the crowd below.

It was a mad rush to the door at the other end of the bar, with all the patrons fleeing before them. Leonard caught their panic and terror in flashes as they pushed by. He grabbed Sara's hand, tugging her to his side to keep them from getting separated in the chaos. She glanced up at him, squeezing his hand and nodding when she met his eyes. They were getting out of this, together.

It felt both like an eternity and only moments before he and Sara finally raced up the stairs to the exit, Mick waving them on. He stayed back, keeping the last of the bar security at bay with his fire.

Leonard took the steps two at a time. He pulled Sara with him, fear and hope and determination pumping through his veins with every erratic beat of his heart, until at last he burst through the door and out into the night. Together, they sprinted across the yard, breathing fast, eyes ahead and locked onto the cover of crates only feet away when –

"Snart!"

A shot rang out, and then another, loud cracks reverberating in Leonard's ears. Suddenly he found himself shoved to the ground, Sara's legs tangled with his and her arm thrown over his chest.

"Sara!" he cried. He fumbled for her, hands feeling every inch he could reach for blood or a wound. Damn her for risking herself again. "Are you hurt?"

"Fine," she mumbled, sitting up slightly. "Leonard, the suit!"

"Shit," he swore, fiddling with the A.T.O.M. gauntlet. There was a bullet lodged in it, smoke and little sparks shooting out as he pressed its buttons.

And in the distance, Barry Allen approached, a sick smile twisting his face.

"You wouldn't leave without saying goodbye, would you?"

Sara scrambled to her feet, pulling Leonard up with her. He clutched her to his side, mind racing.

"Isn't this fitting?" Barry drawled, holding his gun high. "She's the one you left me for. Now I can kill you both."

"You don't have to do this, Barry," Leonard tried. "I'm not the man you think I am."

"No," Barry countered, sauntering closer. "You're every bit the man I think you are. And you won't fool me again."

"Revenge doesn't suit you," Leonard said, grimly. "This isn't who you are."

Barry's face crumpled in anger. "How dare you tell me who I am?"

Because you saved me.

Leonard recoiled from the thought, suddenly realizing – he couldn't, wouldn't hurt Barry. No matter what he said, no matter who he was on this Earth, all Leonard could see was the hero who'd believed in him.

But Sara recognized a killer when she saw one.

"I'll tell you who you are," she said, jump kicking the gun straight out of Barry's hand. "A child who didn't get his way," she growled. He gasped, glaring at her in shock. "You don't get to hurt people just because they hurt you," she added, dodging his punch and grabbing his wrist, yanking and spinning him around with a flick. "Believe me," she added. "I learned that the hard way." She hooked her other arm around his neck, twisting him into a choke hold.

"Do you really trust Snart?" Barry spat, even as he struggled for breath. "He only cares about himself."

"You're wrong," Sara countered, squeezing harder.

"He'll leave you, too!" Barry screeched. "He leaves everyone."

Sara met Leonard's eyes over the top of Barry's head. "Not anymore," she whispered, and Barry fell into an unconscious heap at her feet.

You believed in me once, Allen, Leonard thought. Maybe you will again, someday. She does.

Then a shadow moved in the darkness. Leonard turned, tensing at the sight of a familiar form.

"Sara!"

She was still watching Barry, wiping her hands on her coat. "Don't worry, he's alive," she said, cracking her neck.

"No," he yelled, "look out!"

Sara's head jerked up, just in time to see the gun pointed at her face.

"Guess you get to watch me kill your girl, after all, Cold."

Leonard barely had time to process Julian's sneer before he felt himself moving. He knew Julian wouldn't hesitate. The gangster wanted to destroy him, and that meant going through Sara.

Over my dead body.

Time slowed. The distance to Sara grew and grew as Leonard reached for her.

The shot came.

Leonard felt it in his ears, in his teeth, as he looped his arms around Sara, yanking her out of the way and rolling them to the ground.

"Leonard," she sighed, as he lay half on top of her, shielding her as best he could. "We need to stop trying to die for each other."

"Remind me when we're safe," he muttered, grunting as his shoulder burned with pain. He glanced up to see Julian running at them, gun still outstretched. Leonard groaned, pushing Sara back down.

"Julian, stop!"

A car screeched into the yard, a long and wide limousine with Iris hanging out the window, waving and yelling. But Julian wouldn't stop. He stormed toward them, unrelenting –

Until a stream of fire burst out of nowhere, roaring into Julian and sending him flying into a stack of crates.

"I've always wanted to roast that little bastard," Mick yelled, jogging to their side.

Leonard smiled, weakly. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

Sara gently pushed at him, trying to sit up, but he was too exhausted to move.

"You're bleeding," she gasped suddenly, her hand brushing his shoulder. "You were shot!"

"I'm fine," Leonard murmured. He reached back to feel his shoulder for himself. His hand came back slick and warm. "It's just a graze."

But the world was starting to quiet around him, Sara's voice growing strangely distant. He let Mick help him up, leaning against him, dimly aware of his grunt of concern. He watched Sara crawl to her feet, staring at his blood on her hand, saw her face twist in worry, but it was like she was standing at the other end of a tunnel.

"We need to look at that right away," he heard her say, the words muffled in his ears.

"He's okay," Mick said, gruffly, from somewhere above him. Leonard bit the inside of his cheek, willing himself back to awareness even as he swayed on his feet.

"There's a first aid kit in the car," Iris said, stepping out of the driver's seat. She held her arm outstretched, offering Sara the keys. "Get as far away as you can, first."

Sara's eyes widened in surprise. "Thank you," she said, clutching the keys to her chest. Even as she did, her eyes darted back to Leonard, watching him carefully. "I'm sorry about your husband," she added, nodding at Barry, who was still lying in a heap on the ground. "He should wake up in a few minutes."

"All the more reason for you to get out of here," Iris said. "And I'm the one who's sorry. Ralph told me as soon as we were alone – I had no idea Barry would try to kill you…"

"There's no need to apologize for his actions," Sara said, pulling Iris into a quick hug. "Thank you again, for everything. You're a good friend."

"Not as good as you," Iris said, wistfully, opening the door for Mick to help Leonard into the back seat. Leonard let him half lift him, half push him in, too exhausted to care.

"You aren't coming with us?" Sara asked, as Mick stepped back, shutting the door.

"They'll be on your tail like that," Mick said, snapping his fingers. "Someone's gotta distract 'em. Don't worry," he added, at the stricken look on Sara's face. "I've got reinforcements coming."

"Hopefully you won't need them," Iris said. "The last thing we need is a full-out mob war."

Mick shrugged, as if that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

"I never asked," Leonard slurred, leaning out of the window and blinking back the darkness that was creeping into his vision. "How d'you shoot fire with your hands like that? You a meta?"

Mick raised his eyebrows. "Doesn't your Mickey have fire powers?"

"No," Leonard said. "He has a gun that shoots fire."

Mick grunted. "That's bullshit."

It did seem a little lame, in comparison.

Sara sighed, frowning at Leonard in concern before turning back to Mick. "How can we ever thank you?" she asked.

"Just get outta here," Mick said. "Take care of him, snarky asshole that he is. And stay alive." He ushered her into the driver's seat. "Get to the outskirts of town, if you can. Around Adams or Church Street. We'll look for you there, when this is all taken care of." He shut the door, nodding at her and Leonard through the windows.

In the back seat, Leonard let his head fall back and his eyes drift shut. He let the darkness close in, one comforting thought easing his pain: They were getting out of this, together. Just like they promised.

Somewhere in the distance, voices shouted up in alarm.

"Go!" Iris urged.

From the driver's seat, Sara thanked their rescuers again as she started the car, foot on the gas before it'd even fully started.

She watched Iris and Mick in the rear-view mirror for as long as she could, eyes darting between their shrinking figures, Leonard in the back seat, and the road ahead.

Then they were alone, speeding off into the fading night.