Hello, ladies and gents, and welcome to the beginning of my biggest, most ambitious project yet: 'The Cold Factor'! Here, I will show you what could have happened in Legends S2 if Leonard Snart had miraculously been found alive and was reunited with the team. This falls into my 'Long Way Home' series, so you might want to catch up on that. At minimum, I'd recommend reading (or re-reading) 'Detour'.

The reason I'm calling this my 'most ambitious project' is because I've set myself a word count minimum of 10,000 words per chapter (according to Microsoft Word, anyway). That's a minimum of 190,000 words in total. Except for possibly 'Wizards and Mahōtsukai', which isn't even halfway done yet, I don't think any of my fics - past, present, or future - could reach that length. Wish me luck!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Legends of Tomorrow or any other part of the Arrowverse or its characters.

WORD COUNT: 11144 (10724 on MW)

Thursday, October 13th, 2016

"If the Legends went down with the ship…"

"Where are the bodies?"

The halls of the Waverider were eerily silent as Oliver led Dr. Heywood through them. The lights were off, but the air was somehow breathable. Oliver was no scientist, but he figured that it shouldn't be, after sitting down at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean for seventy-four years. That had to be a good sign, a sign that the ship's life-support systems were still working.

The aforementioned lack of dead bodies, while not very informative, was nonetheless another good sign.

He certainly hadn't expected to be here twenty-four hours ago when some crazy guy had charged through City Hall, making it all the way to Oliver's office doors before finally being stopped by security, claiming to have important news about Oliver's friends Sara and Ray. Once Oliver had actually managed to drag out of him some proof that they and the rest of the Legends were in danger, they'd hopped on a flight to New York, where Dr. Heywood had managed to wrangle them the use of a research submarine through a friend. From there, they'd used the coordinates Dr. Heywood had calculated to find the wreckage of the Waverider.

Except that 'wreckage' wasn't the right word to use. The airlock doors had opened for them, the air inside was breathable, and while the lights were off, there was no visible sign of damage. Either the Waverider hadn't been hit by an A-Bomb at all, or the ship was a lot sturdier than Oliver had previously believed.

Then he saw light coming from a room down the hall. Oliver had only been on this ship once, so he didn't know his way around, but when he entered, Dr. Heywood staying behind him, he recognised the Med Bay. He also recognised the two men lying in the bed/chair things, bathed in a blue light that was being projected from the ceiling: Leonard Snart and Mick Rory. Both were unconscious, and the screens next to their beds appeared to show vital signs, along with the word 'stasis' in big, blue letters. "The ship's keeping them in stasis," he stated his observations aloud. He was a bit disappointed in the self-proclaimed 'time detective' when he questioned that and needed Oliver to point the screens out to him. Then the guy just reached out and touched an icon on the screen without knowing what it might do.

The lights flickered back on, and both Snart and Rory gasped like they'd been holding their breath for several minutes (or perhaps seventy-four years). Dr. Heywood took several steps back, and Oliver found himself with a fight on his hands as Rory's fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. It was brief, however; Oliver managed to wrestle Rory back into his chair. But then a pair of hands grabbed him and yanked him away. Oliver spun around in time to catch Snart's fist with one hand. He was ready to throw a punch of his own, but then Snart's expression cleared, like he was only just fully waking up. "Queen?" he asked, "How in the hell did you get here?"

Oliver let him go. "I came on a submarine with Dr. Heywood here; your ship just let us into the airlock. I don't know exactly how long the Waverider's been down here, but we followed evidence from 1942 and it's 2016 now. You two are the only ones we've found on board so far. What happened to the rest of the team?"

"You wouldn't believe us even if we told you," Rory groaned.

"Try me. I didn't fly across the country and dive beneath the ocean just to wake you two up and then go home without knowing what happened to my friends."

"Fair enough," Snart agreed, "But I have to warn you, we're not one hundred percent certain of everything ourselves."

Rory groaned again as he sat up, pulling the cuff with the blue line attached to it off his wrist. "First thing's first: food."

"Mick-"

"We were in 1942, and now we're in 2016. We haven't eaten in 74 years, and I'm starving." And he marched out of the room without another word.

Snart turned back to the other two and shrugged. "The man has a point. Galley's this way." He ditched his own cuff and led the two of them through the hallway, the lights powering up as they went.

"How has the ship's power stayed on for seventy-four years?" Dr. Heywood wondered aloud.

"Beats me. Anything that wasn't necessary for my and Mick's survival was probably shut down, but other than that… Jax or Rip could probably answer that question a lot better."

Len was angry. He was keeping a lid on it, but he was extremely pissed off at Rip for pulling that 'Time Scatter' stunt. Just when he thought that their captain was done with the lies and the secrecy, he turned out to have hidden something else from them. Exactly what harm could have come from telling them about that contingency? As far as Sara, Jax, Stein, and Raymond would know, they'd been on the Waverider one minute and somewhere – and sometime – else the next, fending for themselves with no way of contacting anybody else. A little forewarning would have done them a lot of good.

Seventy-four years. He and Mick had been sleeping at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean for seventy-four years. And they were only awake now because some historian had miraculously managed to figure out who and where they were and get the information to the right person. The odds of that happening had been very slim; Rip could have easily doomed them to spending centuries down there! What the hell had he been thinking?!

But of course, Len couldn't get any answers to his questions, because Rip wasn't there. Even after a quick search of the rest of the ship, all Len had been able to confirm was that he, Mick, Queen, and Heywood were the only ones aboard and that Gideon had gone silent. So now here he was, glowering at the beer bottle in his hand while Mick scarfed down junk food next to him and Queen and Heywood waited for an explanation. Well, it wasn't like he had anything better to do.

"The last thing I remember is getting knocked out by Rip and his stupid flashing thing."

"Me, too," Mick added, "Very embarrassing."

"I know that you guys were leaving to protect history," Queen prompted.

"Why?" Heywood asked, "Why does history need protecting?"

"Because the assholes who were doing it before," Len explained, rolling his eyes at the need to explain things to the new guy (couldn't Queen have briefed him?), "the Time Masters, were corrupt as hell, and were collaborating with an immortal psychopath in his attempts at world conquest. We had to blow up their base of operations, killing most of them in the process. We've managed to spread the word to most of the lower-ranking field agents who, like Rip, weren't in on the conspiracy, and for the most part, they've agreed not to try and kill us. But aside from those few, there's no one else keeping the timeline in check, so we had to help pick up the slack."

"Chasin' down time criminals and fixing the parts of history they screwed up," Mick elaborated, "'Aberrations', the captain called 'em. We were chasing them for about six months without a problem."

"Well, the occasional problem," Len amended, "Even without the Time Masters' interference, we seem to have a case of bad luck following us."

"Starting with that mission where Lenny got shot by his old man."

"Wait," Heywood interrupted, "I saw news reports that said you killed your father a year ago. Was that a result of time changing, or…"

"No," Len denied, glaring at Mick for bringing it up, "We crossed paths with a younger version of him in '89. He didn't know he was shooting at an older version of his own son, of course, but yes, he shot me. But that's got nothing to do with our latest crisis."

"Right. I knew we were all in trouble when Rip made us put on blouses just to save the king of France…"

Wednesday, December 13th, 1637

"What a bunch of morons," Len hissed to Jax.

"Yeah. I always thought assassins would be tough to take down. I mean, Sara would definitely have noticed us sneaking up on her like that. Girl's a damn ninja."

It had been ridiculously easy to sneak up on a pair of Richelieu's assassins, bonk them on the head, and steal their cloaks.

"I look like an idiot," Mick was complaining over the comms, just as he had been since learning what he'd have to wear for this mission.

"I rather like the style of 'les mousquetaires de l'egarde'," Stein commented.

"You would."

"Can we concentrate, please?" Rip interrupted, "King Louis XIII is scheduled to meet an untimely end at the hand of Cardinal Richelieu's men at any moment." (Two of whom Len and Jax had already neutralised.)

"Roger that," Raymond reported, "I have eyes on the King."

"Whatever you do, do not let him out of your sight."

"But… if today's when he's supposed to… you know, with the Queen, I…"

"Raymond," Stein reminded him, "without that consummation, there will be no Louis Quatorze, no Sun King, and no Golden Age of France!"

Rip continued: "Which, by extension, means no Madame Curie, no Louis Pasteur…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. History will be totally screwed. But I don't have to be there for the actual, you know, consummation, do I?"

"Some people might actually enjoy that, Raymond," Len couldn't help but add. Responses ranged from snickers from Mick and Jax, to embarrassed sputtering from Raymond himself, to put-upon sighs from Rip and the Professor. So Raymond definitely didn't have a voyeurism kink, not that Len needed to know that.

The only person who didn't respond was Sara, because she was waiting on Queen Anne, and couldn't risk being overheard. She'd been there for the past three days, as had the Legends' own 'Three Musketeers', acting as a servant. Which meant she was in the presence of the Queen and other servants almost constantly. But when she was alone, she could get rather explicit when talking to Len; apparently the Queen had been flirting with her quite heavily, and Sara couldn't wait to get back to the Waverider and get a reward for her resistance and self-control. Because the Queen was hot; Len wasn't going to begrudge Sara for noticing. But the jealous part of him wanted to take her back and help her forget all about Anne of Austria.

Even now, he could hear the Queen hitting on her. But he and Jax had almost caught up to the other assassins, who had reached the exterior of the palace. The two disguised Legends jogged over to join the group. Like a bunch of idiots, the assassins didn't even give them a second look, didn't notice that two of their friends had been replaced by complete strangers. No wonder this attempt hadn't worked until some time-travelling bastard had meddled with events.

"Sara," Rip tried to bring the conversation back on track, "I need to know that the Queen is secure."

"In the meantime," Len murmured while he was still on the periphery of the group, "The assassins have just arrived."

"And I'd wager those aren't just swords on their hips," Stein added, clearly able to see them – and their weapons – now.

"Ah, yes, that would explain the Aberration," Rip commented. Some time-traveller – most likely a time pirate – must have sold those futuristic blasters to Richelieu, concerned only with the profit and not at all about the consequences. Len could appreciate the idea of being the sole supplier of the best weapons around – more specifically the money it would bring in – but he was good at what he did because he knew how to look ahead and think of the consequences. And this was just plain stupid, with consequences that could completely change the world and risk wiping the time-traveller out of existence (as a different ruler on the French throne would mean different decisions being made, which could alter the outcome of wars, which could change who lived and who died, which could result in other key historical figures never being born if their ancestors got killed too early, etc.).

The assassins opened fire on Mick, Rip, and Stein, and the fight was on. Len and Jax followed behind them as they tried to storm the mansion. Len spotted Rip immediately engaging one in a swordfight, but kept going – the Time Captain had proven, in earlier missions, to be more than competent enough in that arena, so he likely wouldn't need backup. Instead, Len went inside, just in time to see Mick tackle King Louis XIII out of the way of a laser. Jax, who'd been slightly ahead of Len, came at the asshat from behind and put him down with a few moves that 'Killer, Klepto, and Pyro' had taught him over the past six months.

More and more assassins came after them, only to be put down by Len and Jax while Mick practically dragged the King behind him. Eventually Sara joined them, pulling the Queen by the hand, and kicked one assassin in the head when he tried to attack the 'easy' targets.

Eventually, Rip ordered them back to the ship, but Len's attention was quickly drawn to Jax when he and one assassin went crashing through a balcony door. Luckily, by the time he got there, Jax had just forced the bastard to drop his sword. Len saw the man pulling his laser gun and grabbed him from behind, twisting his arm – which Jax had already done a nice job of damaging – and snagged the blaster for himself before whacking the assassin in the head with it. The two Legends rejoined their teammates inside and made their way downstairs, which was clear now that all the assassins had been taken out.

Or not. The sound of a couple of explosions and a scream suggested that Raymond had had to take at least one down outside. Rip immediately began scolding him for using his future tech openly (flying around while shrunken-down so no one could see him very well didn't count).

"Don't look at me," Mick defended over Louis's panicked blubbering as they exited the building, "I left my gun on the ship like a good little Boy Scout."

Len and Sara exchanged a smirk, knowing that if Mick was claiming innocence, he had to have swiped something shiny while they were in there. Len himself was thinking of ways to get that big gem off the Queen's neck, but couldn't come up with anything that this situation would allow. The King and Queen were understandably freaked out over the whole thing, especially at the sight of Raymond in his A.T.O.M. Suit, and would notice if he made any moves to take something off their person.

"What's going on?!" Louis cried, "Who are you people?!"

"Just some concerned citizens looking out for your safety," Sara replied breezily, her arms laden with the laser guns they'd taken from the men inside. No good could come from leaving those behind. Stein quickly joined them, having confiscated the future tech from the downed assassins outside.

"I believe your people can take it from here, however," Rip continued, "Our work here is done."

The Legends walked off, leaving the royal couple staring after them.

"Wait," Heywood interrupted, "How did you go from the court of Louis XIII to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean?"

"You said you wanted to hear the full story," Mick answered.

"We do," Queen confirmed, "Just, some of us have lives that we'd like get back to."

Len found himself in agreement. France in 1637 had been a fun story, but not really one they needed to hear to understand this debacle. And the sooner they wrapped up storytime, the sooner he and Mick could start searching for their missing team. "We got ourselves in trouble by visiting a time we were warned to stay away from," he tried to get the story back on track.

"1942," Heywood guessed.

"Yeah. Just before we left 2016, some guy crashed down in the Waverider – a heavily-damaged version of the Waverider from the future – introduced himself as Rex Tyler from the Justice Society of America, whatever the hell that is…" Len noticed that Heywood visibly reacted at the name, but otherwise said nothing. "…and told us not to go to 1942 or we'd all die. But then he and the ship just vanished right in front of us, literally just disappearing into thin air, before he could make with the explaining. So, we decided to go on our merry way and simply avoid 1942. But it turned out to be pretty much unavoidable, otherwise there would've been some serious consequences to history."

"What consequences?"

"Well, that was fun," Sara commented as they strolled off the bridge after being treated to Rip's latest 'You People Just Can't Seem To Follow The Rules, Can You?' Lecture.

"The fight, or living in the lap of luxury?"

"Please. I was a servant, remember? The quarters weren't horrible, but they were far from luxurious."

"And spending quality time with the Queen of France?"

She turned and raised an eyebrow at him. "Jealous?"

"Well, she is royalty. And that's not something I can say about myself."

"Oh, trust me, if I didn't have you, I would've been all over her."

"And I wouldn't blame you. But you do have me. I'm standing right here."

"That I do." She fingered the black assassin's cloak he was still wearing. "And that you are. And I've found myself missing you these last three days…" She gripped his shoulder and pulled herself up to kiss him, which he gladly returned. It wasn't long before he scooped her up and carried her back to their room, passing the Professor, who simply sighed, having long since become resigned to their antics.

Unfortunately, they'd just barely gotten started when the ship suddenly shook all around them, causing both of them to fall off the bed.

"Gideon, are we under attack?!" Sara cried once she got over her surprise.

"Negative," the AI responded calmly, "That was a shockwave generated by a Time Quake."

Len and Sara looked at each other. "That sounds ominous," Len commented, "even without the lousy timing."

Both of them reluctantly got dressed in their regular clothing and made tracks for the bridge. What they learned fit Len's prediction perfectly.

"That's impossible," Sara gasped.

The high-definition image of a nuclear explosion in the middle of New York City begged to differ.

"So," Len began, "Someone nuked New York in 1942. Three guesses who that 'someone' is."

"Nazis," Mick growled, "I hate Nazis."

"So that's why you went to 1942," Queen said, "Even after you were warned not to."

"I'd rather die than speak German," Mick declared.

"Not to mention the fact that all the other Time Captains we had on speed-dial were busy with other Aberrations," Len elaborated, "They promised to wrap up whatever they were doing and come help, but it wasn't like we had a lot of time to waste. So Rip decided that we'd be going there, to do what we could until reinforcements arrived. Our resident bookworms did some digging, and noticed that a particular someone went missing shortly before the attack: none other than Albert Einstein himself."

"AKA, one of the only people in that time known to be smart enough to get that nuke working. We figured the Krauts kidnapped him, forced him to help them build it. So, our job was to stop that from happening, by snatching him up ourselves. Stein practically had a nerdgasm once he realized he'd be getting to meet Einstein. Funny how that worked out…"

Friday, October 16th, 1942

"So, how do we find Einstein in a city of seven million people?" Stein asked.

"Well, we just look for the physicist with the crazy white hair," Raymond joked. Their own white-haired physicist glared at him, unamused. "I mean, the other one."

"According to Gideon," Rip explained, "there's a cocktail party at Columbia this evening."

"Cocktail party?" Mick asked, wearing most of his fabricated military uniform, but not to regulation, like Len and Rip. His coat was still tucked under his arm. "That means booze, right? Where is it?"

"Columbia. I just- Why does no one ever listen to me?"

Len ignored Rip's whining in favour of noticing Sara breaking off from the group. "Sara?" he called after her. "Where are you going?"

"I have a grandfather who was in the FBI," she responded calmly, "I figured I'd check in, in case we need backup before the other Time Captains get here."

That set off so many warning bells for Len. For starters, this was still 1942, and this FBI agent grandfather – assuming she was telling the truth about that – would have no reason to believe that she was his granddaughter from the future and wouldn't be inclined to listen to anything else she'd have to say, especially not in this time period. And Sara was smart enough to know that.

Second, he'd had a bad feeling about this since Raymond had come up to him and mentioned that Sara had disappeared into the library again. She'd been doing that a lot in the past six months, holed up in there by herself, claiming to be researching the time period of their next Aberration. But Len and Raymond were pretty sure they knew what she was looking for: Damien Darhk.

She hadn't talked a whole lot about her sister's death, hadn't confided in Len about it like she had before they'd started dating. Oh, she still opened up to him about everything else, but she'd been rather tight-lipped about her grief and how she was coping. Len had initially thought that it was because the pain was still too raw, and he was hardly any better than her when it came to talking about past hurts. But when Raymond – the only other person on the ship who had known Laurel and was also grieving – had approached him with his concerns, well, Len had figured out pretty quickly that Sara was looking to cope in a way that, honestly, he wouldn't disapprove of under normal circumstances. But if she went about killing Darhk the wrong way, it could have disastrous consequences, not just for the timeline, but for Sara herself. And Len found himself wondering if he would wind up having to talk her down, like Russia all over again. And if he would even succeed this time around.

So far, they hadn't been in any combination of time and place where she would have an opportunity. But there was something in her eyes that suggested that this time was different. That she'd found what she was looking for.

But he couldn't confront her about it. Not here. So he nodded and said: "Good idea. I could come along."

She shook her head and replied just a little too quickly: "No, it's okay. I've got this."

He let her walk away, allowed her to get some distance before moving to follow her, but a tap on his shoulder distracted him. "Maybe I should…" Raymond pulled his A.T.O.M. Suit out of his pocket, and Len had no choice but to relent. As good as he was, Sara was better, and she'd notice him tailing her and shake him easily. Raymond would stand a much better chance at following her.

So he let the scientist go and stopped Rip before he could protest. "Raymond's just going to back Sara up. Leave it alone."

Rip wasn't completely stupid, of course; he was clearly skeptical about Raymond going with Sara instead of Len. But he sighed and apparently decided to not bother with a fruitless argument.

They got into the party easily enough; Rip, Len, and Mick flashed their Gideon-fabricated military credentials, while the Professor showed his academic ones. Jax wasn't coming; Rip had him fixing something on the Waverider instead, much to his annoyance.

While Mick complained about being at a 'nerd party', Len was following Rip's advice (yes, that did happen from time to time) and keeping an eye out for the kidnappers.

"Tha- that-that's him," Stein whispered reverently, "The greatest mind the world has ever known."

Len followed his gaze just in time to see the old man with the ridiculous hair pawing the ass of a pretty, young blonde in a green dress, only for her to yank the offending appendage away and slap it.

"Hah," Mick laughed. "I like him. He's a pig."

Stein's appalled face was quite the sight.

Beside him, Rip sighed. "I just found our spies." Len looked over at the men Rip had just been eyeing: three men in khaki-coloured uniforms, just standing around and not talking, in contrast to the party guests merrily chatting the afternoon away. "Notice their uniforms. The stitching on their lapels? It's exquisite."

"You mean to say fake?" Stein guessed.

Len wasn't entirely sure how that automatically meant 'spy', but then, he hadn't read up a lot about military dress uniforms, so he decided to trust that Rip knew more than he did in that particular department. "Plus they're just standing there, not talking, not even to each other," he added his own observations, "One of them is eyeing the exits, another seems to be focused on security, and the other is doing a fairly decent job at pretending he's not tracking Einstein's every move. And of course the actual security detail isn't paying them – or us – any attention at all."

Sure enough, just seconds later, all three spies pulled guns out, noticed only by their own observers, and started walking away. The four Legends made their own move, Mick and Stein approaching Einstein while Rip and Len moved to cover them in case the Nazis tried to intervene. Stein insisted on being the one to talk to Einstein, going on about the theory of relativity and scaring away the pretty ladies, which had Einstein very annoyed. Mick just took the crazy-haired professor by the arm and started leading him towards the nearest exit.

Things went to shit, however, as Einstein suddenly yelled: "Help! I'm being kidnapped!"

The security guards, finally taking notice of something going wrong, rushed forward, only to be gunned down by the Nazis. Rip was close enough to punch one out and use his gun to shoot another, by which point Len was able to take the third down with a kneecap- shattering kick and a pistol-whip (with the bastard's own gun, no less).

Together, the four time-travellers and one unconscious physicist (Stein had a surprisingly good right hook) made their exit among the screaming and confused partygoers.

"So… do we wanna talk about it?"

Sara sighed. She knew Len would be insisting on discussing her argument with Ray, particularly the secret he'd blabbed about in front of the others: that she'd ditched the mission to go hunting after Damien Darhk.

She'd just found the bastard when Ray had come up behind her, having been following her the entire way with the A.T.O.M. Suit. They'd overheard Darhk talking with another man in German, and managed to pick out one very important word: uranium. Ray had deduced that Darhk was supplying the Nazis with it so that they could build the nuke, which had meant that Darhk needed to be kept alive until the team located the stuff.

Then they'd come back to the Waverider to the news that kidnapping Einstein had done nothing to change the timeline. Stein and Mick had found out from the genius that his ex-wife was also capable of building the bomb, and then Gideon had confirmed that she'd been successfully kidnapped because no one had thought to guard her. Then Ray had brought up Darhk's uranium and told everyone about Sara's side mission, and had essentially called her selfish. Len had said nothing throughout the argument, but Sara knew he'd want to talk with her about it in private, which was apparently now.

"I thought you would be one of the last people to lecture me about this, Len," she sighed, turning to face him, "after what you tried in 1975."

"I'm not here to lecture you, Sara. Raymond's already done that, and I imagine Rip'll take a crack at it himself once this A-Bomb crisis passes. But I want to know why you felt the need to hide this from me for the past six months." He honestly sounded a little hurt. "I would've been willing to help you."

"I know," she whispered, "You killed your father to protect your sister, and you also tried to stop him from becoming that monster in the first place. But this… this is something I have to do alone. Darhk was a member of the League of Assassins; I'm the only one on this crew who would stand a chance against him. I lost you once, Len; I couldn't lose you again, not even if it got me my sister back."

"Sara-"

"Dr. Palmer has pinpointed the location of Damien Darhk and the uranium," Gideon interrupted, "Captain Hunter has requested that everyone prepare for battle and gather on the bridge."

A fire appeared in Sara's eyes at the news that she would soon be facing her sister's killer. "Let's suit up," she growled.

"Sara-"

"We can talk about this later." And she stalked off, leaving him sighing and worrying.

Raymond's theory proved correct; he'd traced the uranium to a shipyard in Hoboken, and not only did they find the A-Bomb there, they also found Darhk and the former Mrs. Einstein. Not to mention a bunch of Nazis and a German U-Boat that had somehow managed to get in without anyone official noticing.

The Legends and Einstein were observing from behind a large stack of crates, preparing to attack. And it quickly became clear that everyone had different priorities, despite all having agreed on the same plan. Rip was primarily focused on getting the bomb out of Nazi hands, Einstein was worried to pieces about his ex, and Sara was dead set on killing Darhk. If all went well, all three of them would get their wishes, but Len wasn't so optimistic as to think that all would go well.

Darhk led the procession towards the U-Boat, followed by two Nazis wheeling the bomb and two more 'escorting' Mileva. The Legends' attack began with Raymond firing a shot between Darhk and the bomb, powerful enough to knock the Nazis pushing it off their feet, but not so powerful as to set the thing off and kill everyone. The Nazis dove for cover, while Darhk just turned around and glared at them, not a trace of fear on his face. Raymond's demand for surrender was, predictably, met with a hail of gunfire.

Everyone split up to their respective tasks. Firestorm and Mick mostly laid down cover fire while Raymond went for the bomb, Rip for Mileva, and Sara and Len for Darhk. Rip had originally wanted Sara to help evacuate the poor woman, but Len had called that a bad idea. They all knew Sara would go after Darhk, and if he chose to get involved in the fight, she was the only one who stood a chance against him, anyway. So Rip had agreed to let their resident assassin take on the immortal, on the condition that Len would go with her to watch her back.

Sara leapt over a pile of crates and attacked Darhk, who'd been calmly walking away from the battle, with her staff, but he ducked almost casually. She tried several more times, but he dodged with ease until he grabbed the weapon out of the air and twisted around so that he was standing behind her, the staff pressed into her neck.

Len raised his Cold Gun, his heart in his throat. He was so used to watching her tear through enemies with ease that he'd almost forgotten that there were people out there who were even more skilled than she was. For a second, he was back in Kasnia in 2147, helpless to do anything as Vandal Savage held a knife to her throat. And just like that time, he couldn't get a clean shot.

"Interesting technique," Darhk was saying, "League of Assassins, am I right?" Right. Darhk was a friend-turned-rival of Ra's al Ghul himself. Of course he'd be able to identify Sara's training right off the bat.

Sara's answer was an elbow to the gut, a fist to the face, and a kick that sent him staggering back, but he recovered quickly. "I've been waiting a long time for this."

"A long time for what?"

"To kill you."

Darhk didn't even look surprised or confused, because of course he'd done many horrible things by now that would have people wanting him dead, and he knew it. "Try to, you mean."

Sara lunged again with a yell. She and Darhk traded blows several times; Len couldn't get a shot in to disable the bastard and make killing him easier for her, so he switched back and forth between watching them and shooting the Nazis trying to kill the rest of his team.

Eventually, Rip yelled for them to fall back. But Sara didn't listen. Instead, she wiped the blood off her face and kept fighting, even though Darhk was starting to put her on the defensive more often than not.

"Sara!" Len yelled, trying to get her attention, "Sara, pull back! We have to go!" He heard Raymond yell Mick's name and turned in time to see his partner fall. "SARA!"

Darhk managed to disarm Sara and throw her to the ground. Seeing that he finally had a clear shot, Len raised his gun and pulled the trigger.

But then fire erupted in his back. He'd been shot enough times to recognise the feeling before he hit the ground.

"LEN!"

Len was deliriously glad to hear Sara focusing on something besides her vendetta. Small yet strong hands gripped him and pulled him up; he spotted her worried face briefly before getting treated to a nice view of her ass as she hoisted him over her shoulder. Lifting his head was a struggle, but he did see Darhk, clutching his frost-coated arm, trying to follow after them, only to be blocked by fireballs raining down from the sky courtesy of Firestorm.

"Thank God for future tech," Len groaned. His bullet wound might have been a through-and-through, hitting no vital organs, but he still should've been confined to bed for a long-ass time. Gideon had managed to heal him and Mick within less than an hour. It wasn't complete, the AI had said, but they would be able to walk around the ship without any assistance, and the team still had a job to finish.

He was met outside the Med Bay doors by a miserable-looking Sara. Mick took one look at the two of them and swiftly vacated the area, dragging Raymond away by the back of his shirt when the scientist approached to ask how they were doing.

Sara wasn't looking him in the eye, her gaze instead fixed at the level where they both knew there were bandages wrapped around his chest under his shirt. He'd bled all over her uniform on the way there, staining the white leather red. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "This… this is why I wanted to go after Darhk alone, Len. You could have died."

"So could you," he reminded her, "He could have killed you if you hadn't chosen to run. And you wouldn't have made that choice if I hadn't been hurt. You would have stayed and fought, you would have lost, and Darhk would have killed his second Lance sister. Or first, from his perspective."

"Len-"

"Did you even hear Rip calling for us to fall back?! I know I'm not exactly the poster boy for following orders, but Raymond's suit was disabled by the radiation, Mick had been shot, and everything was going to hell, but then you got tunnel vision and ignored everything else around you!" Len became aware that he was starting to yell, his anger and worry beginning to get the better of him. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind of the mental image of Sara dead at Darhk's feet.

Standing in front of him with tears of guilt in her eyes, Sara didn't look that much better. She opened her mouth to say something, but then the ship shook under their feet. "What was that?"

"Gideon?" Len prompted.

"Captain Hunter has begun to follow the radiation trail left by the nuclear bomb," Gideon replied, "I would recommend making your way to the bridge and strapping in."

Len sighed. He was tired of these conversations being interrupted. "We'll talk about this later," he told Sara as they proceeded to the bridge.

They arrived at the same time as Mick and the Nerd Twins. "We goin' swimmin' or something?" Mick asked when he saw all the water outside the windows. Beside him, Len heard Sara suck in her breath. Surviving two shipwrecks had left her less than fond of the water, especially the open ocean.

"I'm tracking the Nazi U-Boat," Rip replied distractedly.

"Where is it now?" Len asked, just before a blast sounded and the ship shook again, this time accompanied by sparks coming down from the ceiling.

"It's close."

They all scrambled into their Jump Seats, which was a good thing, because they got hit again seconds later. "They've knocked out our telemetry, Captain," Gideon reported.

None of them liked the sound of that.

"As you can see, the Waverider is ill-suited for underwater combat," Rip admitted. Len saw Sara's face grow even paler, and reached over and grabbed her hand. She squeezed it back tightly.

"I'm trying to bypass the tertiary substance debris," Raymond reported, as he was sitting next to another set of controls.

"Make it fast, Haircut," Mick growled.

Seconds later, there was another, more distant booming noise. "Yes!" Raymond cried, pumping his fist.

But his moment of triumph was short-lived. Something else, fired from the Nazi sub, rocketed past them and kept going. "What was that?" Sara asked, in the tone of someone who knew the answer to her own question but was praying she was wrong.

"They're not firing at us," Stein added, the exact same fear in his voice.

"It's the nuclear bomb," Rip confirmed their fears.

"Atomic."

"Whatever it is," Raymond said, "We've gotta stop it!"

"I fear that there is only one way to do that," Rip told them before steering the ship in an abrupt U-turn.

Jax came running onto the bridge, ducking as something sparked over his head. "Okay," he told Rip, "I don't know what you wanted me to do, but I did it."

Rip got up out of his seat and strode over to the kid. "Excellent work, Jax."

"What's going on?!" Mick demanded.

"I am piloting us on a collision course with the torpedo," Rip answered as Jax got seated next to Mick, "Now, with any luck, it will hit us before New York City."

Everyone twisted in their seats and stared at him incredulously.

"What?!" Len hissed.

"How's that lucky?" Mick growled.

"Can the Waverider handle the blast?" Sara asked.

"Honestly? I have absolutely no idea."

The entire crew exchanged nervous glances, but Len only had eyes for Sara. They could die today. Sure, that was a risk they were willing to take every day when they agreed to stay on Rip's crew, but now it was staring them right in the face.

He tightened his grip on her fingers. The last time he'd been in this sort of position, he'd been ready to die alone. And he wasn't sure if he liked that fact that Sara – and the others – would be with him this time. One the one hand, at least he'd be able to spend his last seconds with her. On the other, he wished he could give her a chance of survival.

Rip continued speaking. "Which is why I'm doing this." He tapped the tablet Jax had handed him.

There was a bright flash of light, causing Len to shut his eyes against the glare. But even before he opened them, he knew something was wrong, because his hand, the one that had been holding Sara's, suddenly closed on empty air. He opened his eyes and found himself staring at an empty Jump Seat. "Sara?!" Twisting around, he saw that Stein, who'd been sitting on his other side, was also gone, and so were Jax and Raymond. Only he and Mick were left on the bridge with Rip. "What the hell, Rip?!" he snapped, "What did you just do?! Where is everyone?!"

"The appropriate question is 'When'." Rip started heading towards his study. "Over the last few months, I've implemented a safeguard in case of a catastrophe. A high burst of temporal energy has scattered our team throughout history."

"I knew you never liked us," Mick grumbled.

Len threw his restraints off and stood up, storming after Rip. "Why in the hell would you split us up?!" Sure, he'd wanted Sara to miraculously get away from this situation, but he had no way of knowing if she was safe or not. And why were he and Mick still stuck on this doomed vessel?!

"I'm afraid, injured as you are, the two of you wouldn't survive the rigours of time-travel, which is why I'm doing this." He held up the object he'd grabbed from his study, and everything went white.

"Next thing we knew, we were waking up in the Med Bay with you two standing over us," Len finished. Telling this story had taken longer than he'd thought. He'd left out the issues with Sara's vendetta, because even though Queen was her and Laurel's friend, Heywood was a complete stranger and it was none of his business.

"That just leaves us with one question you haven't answered," Queen pointed out.

"Where the hell is Rip?" Len guessed. He looked over at Mick, who'd been knocked out a few seconds after him.

"I dunno," his friend groaned, "Must've time-scattered himself like the rest of them." The 'and left us to possibly die' was left unsaid. "Guess we gotta go play hero and find them."

"Do you even think this ship still flies?" Heywood asked.

"I don't see why not." As if they hadn't been hit by an A-Bomb. "Fridge works." Mick held up his cold beer in emphasis.

"I don't have time to time-travel," Queen said, ignoring the irony in that statement, "but if your team is stuck in history, who better to find them than a historian?" He gestured at Heywood, who nodded in agreement, but then did a double-take.

Mick looked incredulous. "This guy?"

"Without Dr. Heywood, you'd still be in stasis."

"Plus Gideon seems to be down," Len pointed out, "And we have no idea where to look first."

Mick agreed that both were very good points. He took Heywood to the library while Len walked with Queen to the airlock, knowing the mayor of Star City would have some more personal questions. He wasn't wrong.

"You said Sara went up against Damien Darhk," Queen prompted as soon as they were out of earshot.

Len sighed. "Yeah. And no, it did not go well. Apparently, Sara's spent the past six months researching when and where she can find him, in case we ever get a mission in one of those times and places. When she finally faced him, he nearly killed her. Would have, if I hadn't been shot, and if she hadn't needed to get me to safety." He ran a hand over his face. "I know I said I'd look out for her, but it's hard to do that when she's refusing backup and running in there without a plan."

"Darhk's already dead. I killed him myself."

"Yeah, after he killed Laurel. Sara wants to erase all that from ever happening in the first place."

"To save Laurel." Queen's gaze was distant. "Laurel brought Sara back from the dead. It makes sense that Sara would want to do the same for her."

"And I'd like to help," Len insisted honestly, "The difference is that Sara seems to be okay with getting herself killed – again – if it can save Laurel. I want her to be able to kill the bastard and then walk away, and I'm sure everyone else wants that, too."

"I thought Captain Hunter convinced her not to go to the night of Laurel's death because she would be the one who died."

"He said that Sara and Laurel would die, along with their father. Sara's fine with giving her own life to save Laurel's but not anyone else's, and that scenario has Laurel dying anyway, so there would be no point to it all."

"Well, I thought you were more stubborn than that." Queen looked him in the eye sternly. "Tell her you're going to help her, because if she can't get it done the smart way on her own, you're going to have to."

Len considered his words. "The second we're alone, I'm putting my foot down. She needs to know that her life isn't disposable."

"Exactly. Good luck."

Len made it back to the bridge just after Mick and Heywood. The historian was announcing that he had a lead on Raymond's location. "Are you sure it's not from one of our previous missions?" Len checked. Those wouldn't be useful.

"It's not," Mick told him, "Unless I slept through a trip to the dinosaur age."

Dinosaurs? Why on Earth would Rip think that was a good time to send anyone to? He glanced down at the magazine Heywood had dropped on a Jump Seat. It was open to a page with a large picture of a fossilised shoeprint, with the caption 'Jurassic Man: Real or Hoax?'.

Heywood looked nervous as Mick got comfortable in the pilot's seat. "Are you, uh, sure you know how to fly this thing?"

"Let's find out," Mick told him.

Len fought a laugh as he settled into one of the seats at either end of the new U-shaped control console. Thanks to his training as Chronos, Mick knew how to fly the Waverider and the Jump Ship just as well as Rip. He was just messing with the new guy, and Len saw no reason to spoil his fun.

Mick hit a few buttons and the console lit up. Then he began their ascent, causing Heywood to stumble and cling to a Jump Seat for balance. "Maybe you should slow down!" the newbie cried in a panic. Mick was driving faster than Rip normally did.

"Maybe you should shut up and strap in."

Heywood followed the pyro's instructions, his fear visibly giving way to excitement. "I can't believe this. We're about to travel through time!"

"Did he tell you about the side-effects?" Len asked, bracing himself. He'd never travelled tens of millions of years in one jump. Hell, he hadn't even travelled one million years in one jump. This was not going to be fun.

"What side-effects?!"

"Ten bucks says he gets the bleeding eyeball thing!" Len shouted to Mick over the roar of the engines.

"You're on!"

Monday, April 17th, 1693

Sara Lance was rather annoyed. Once Rip picked her up – if Rip picked her up (although she was actually trying to be more optimistic this time around) – she was going to have words with him about dropping her in the middle of the Salem Witch Trials. The time where common sense and decency and human rights were thrown out the window in favour of fear and hatred of anything even the slightest bit different from the Puritans' tight-ass moral code. Why in the hell would Rip ever think a female, bisexual assassin with a penchant for violence would do well here?

The men had bound her hands tightly with rope (she could still work her way free easily) and were leading her to the noose. "Vile witch!" one called.

"You have corrupted the women of our village!"

One old woman stepped forward and spat on the ground, aiming for Sara's shoes and narrowly missing.

"In my defense, it was just one, and I'd hardly call teaching her how to throw a proper punch 'corruption'." She'd come across a man attempting to rape one of the local girls, and had knocked him out from behind. Sara had been intending to move on to the next town within a few days (she'd have just skipped over this one completely if she'd been aware of exactly when she was and which town she'd stumbled onto), so she'd given the girl some pointers in case he tried to come at her again. And if she hadn't still been hoping to see Len again, she probably would've made a move on the girl, too (Now, that would definitely be condemned as 'corruption').

But the man, after waking up, had publicly accused the poor girl of witchcraft, saying that she'd used dark sorcery to render him unconscious for no reason. No matter how much she'd pleaded that he'd attacked her, that she had been rescued by someone else, and that there had been no witchcraft involved, she'd nearly been declared guilty. So Sara had stepped forward and declared that she had knocked the bastard out, which, while it had cleared the innocent girl, had also led to her own conviction. Because no mere woman could ever overcome a man without the use of some dark, unthinkable devil worship.

"Hang the witch!" the villagers began chanting, "Hang the witch! Hang the witch! Hang the witch!"

Sara, deciding she'd had enough of this crap, grabbed the thick, wooden staff held by the man next to her, kicked him in the gut, and smacked him in the face with the staff. Women began screaming as she knocked another man out.

"You must be Sara Lance!" a voice came from behind her.

On instinct, Sara spun around and knocked the man's feet out from under him.

"Woah, woah, woah!" another, more welcome and familiar, voice cried, "It's okay. He's with us."

It was Ray. And he had Mick and Len standing on either side of him. Sara blew a lock of hair out of her face and dropped her weapon, stepping over the other guy (who was moaning "Is she always this violent?") and running to her boyfriend. "Len!"

He held her tightly, like he was afraid she'd vanish if he let go. "You okay?"

"Ask a silly question. Do you really think I was going to just let those dumb Puritans hang me?" She looked up and met his eyes. "Rip has a lot to answer for, dumping me in this era."

"I'll be sure to tell him that once we find him. For now…" He dipped his head down and kissed her, threading his fingers through her knotted hair (they wouldn't even give her a damn hairbrush in prison).

She tried to reach up and wrap her arms around his neck, but her hands were still tied. "Hang on." She wriggled out of the ropes as quickly as she could and was about to resume kissing him when something whizzed by her ear. "What the hell?!"

The villagers had re-gathered their courage and were beginning to approach their group, some throwing rocks while the biggest men charged forward with their pitchforks.

"How about you two have your little reunion on the ship?" Mick suggested even as he started running, dragging the new guy behind him.

Sara grinned at Len and grabbed his hand before sprinting off after their teammates. "So, where have you been?"

"It's a long story."

"So let me get this straight," Sara began as she changed out of that annoying seventeenth-century outfit, "Some historian was able to figure out who we were, what we were doing, the fact that we were in trouble, and where to find the ship, all by himself. Then he convinced Ollie to drop everything he was doing on nothing but his word to find you and Mick at the bottom of the Atlantic, where you were in some sort of suspended animation for seventy-four years – hah, that means you're over a hundred years old, now."

"That time doesn't count. And even if it did, then that means Mick's time as Chronos counts, which means that he's still got a couple hundred years on all of us combined."

"Right. So after that, you and Mick took the new guy on a few trips through time, saving Ray from a T-Rex and Stein and Jax from some bratty half-pint king in Medieval England. And how did it feel, traveling millions of years in one jump?"

"Well, I went completely numb all over for several minutes. Mick, the lucky ass, barely felt a thing, but the fact that I couldn't really move meant that he had to clean up the mess Heywood made all by himself. The poor newbie seemed to be hit with every side-effect we've ever encountered all at once."

"Plus bleeding from the eyeballs?" Despite Rip's mention of it before their very first Time Jump, the Legends had yet to experience that particular side-effect. Len and Mick's bet was not the first one to be made on that particular topic.

"Nope, not that, sadly. I lost ten bucks because of it."

Sara laughed, slipping on a t-shirt and sitting next to him on the bed (where he'd been fully enjoying the show). "You know, we really should stop making bets on that. Aside from the fact that it would be horrible for the person in question, if a newbie traveling millions of years on his first Time Jump doesn't start bleeding from the eyeballs, what's it gonna take?"

"True." Len sighed. "I'm probably tempting fate here, but I did say we were going to finish a certain conversation right before everything really went to hell."

All traces of laughter fled from Sara's face as she recalled their conversation after he left the Med Bay. "Right. How's the bullet wound, by the way?"

He shrugged. "Gideon's had seventy-four years to heal it; I haven't actually thought to check, but it hasn't been bothering me. Don't try and change the topic, though."

Sara looked down at her shoes. "I'm sorry. For what happened earlier. I've had a lot of time to think on it – not two years this time, thankfully – and… you were right. I lost focus in that fight. It's something that would've earned me a serious punishment in the League, because even there, watching your allies' backs was important. I just… I've been waiting six months for the chance to get that bastard, to save my sister."

"I know. But if you keep going like this, you're just going to get yourself killed. And I know this is a cliché line, but she wouldn't want that. Laurel literally went through hell and back to bring you back to life, and throwing it away is a pretty poor way to repay her." Seeing the tears in her eyes, he reached out and put an arm around her shoulders. When she didn't push him away, he pulled her closer, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. "It's not that I don't want you to save Laurel. I told you, I want to help. I want to help you kill Darhk and survive the fight. Or have you seriously decided that that's not an option?"

"N-no, I- I… All I can think of is that it's not fair. It's not fair that she's dead after she brought me back. She became the Black Canary to honor me, and it got her killed. I would love to be able to live my life with her in it again, but… but I know that might not be possible, and I'd rather be dead and have her be alive than the other way around."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Len whispered, "I can help you, really. Mick would be willing to help, too. You just have to let us. And before you can pull the 'we could get killed' argument, that's just as likely to happen any other day on this job."

She looked up at him, a few tears running down her face. "I know. I just… I'm scared. Darhk's already taken one person from me. I didn't want to give him a chance to take another."

"Then we watch each other's backs. Just as we've been doing all this time." He pressed a kiss on her forehead, until she tilted her head up to let him capture her lips instead.

After a few seconds, they parted. "We should probably get to the bridge," Sara murmured, "With Gideon down, we either have to be there when they figure out where Rip is, or stay here until someone comes to interrupt us."

"Ugh, you're right. But just so we're clear: you are going to let me help you get Darhk, right?"

"…Right. I'm sorry I kept it all a secret from you."

"Oh, if you think I wasn't aware of what you've been up to, you've severely underestimated me." He paused. "Okay, so it wasn't until Palmer came and talked to me that we put the pieces together, but yes, we both knew what you were planning."

"I'm sorry," Heywood told the team, "but so far, I haven't been able to detect any historical alterations that indicate Mr. Hunter was… stranded in time."

Raymond's shoulders visibly sagged in disappointment, and he looked down at Jax, who was working with the wiring on the side of the central console. "Well, hopefully we'll be able to ask Gideon where he is, soon. Jax?"

"Almost got it," the young mechanic replied.

"Who's Gideon?" Heywood asked the room in general, "I mean, Mr. Snart mentioned that name before, but-"

"You'll find out in a sec. I just need to… There!"

Gideon's holographic head appeared over the console, making the historian's jaw drop. "Greetings, Dr. Heywood," she said (she must have been listening in the whole time, and simply unable to respond until Jax fixed whatever he fixed), "I am the ship's artificial consciousness."

Sara smiled in relief. "Gideon! We need you to tell us where Rip is."

"So we can punch him for his idiotic choice in Time-Scatter destinations, for starters," Len murmured. Would it have been too much trouble for him to send them all to 2016 Star City or Central City, where they were guaranteed to have allies and a safe place to go?

"I am afraid I have no idea," Gideon replied, "But I would be happy to play his final message for you all."

"Final message?" Raymond asked uneasily.

"Sorry for stranding you all throughout history…" Rip's voice came from behind them. Everyone turned and looked towards Rip's study, where a hologram of their captain was being projected. "…but it was the only way to save you. Ah, you know what they say: a captain must never abandon his ship… Well, neither shall I abandon hope of seeing you all again, someday, somewhere in time. As flawed and unruly as you are individually, together, you are the best crew, the best team a captain could ever hope for. So… stick together. And remember: history is yours, now, my dear Legends. … Good luck."

For several moments, everyone just stared in stunned silence at the hologram until it vanished. Mick was the first to shake it off and stalk over to the study, muttering something about needing a drink. Len was next, gently pulling Sara with him. He settled down into one of the armchairs, and she squeezed in next to him, half-sitting on his lap. The others took similar positions around the room, processing this new development. Heywood, of course, was nowhere near as affected as the rest of them, but he respectfully kept his mouth shut.

"Where could he have gone?" Sara murmured quietly, finally breaking the silence.

"Anywhere, really," Len muttered back, "And knowing Rip, he's probably being the perfect little Time Master, making no changes to the timeline, which would be why Gideon can't track him. There's nothing for her to track."

"So?" Raymond asked, "What do we do now?"

"We drink," Mick suggested from his spot in the entryway, taking a bite out of a donut he'd been keeping God knows where and then following up with a swig of whichever expensive liquor he'd swiped this time (after six months of this, it was a wonder that Rip's stash wasn't completely wiped out yet).

"It's not like we're exactly Time Masters," Len pointed out, "Even with Rip."

"I think…" Jax began, "he knew that… one day, we might have to do this… without him."

"And we all heard his message," Raymond added, "He wanted us to keep going."

"We have to keep going," Stein insisted, "There's a rogue time-traveler out there somewhere."

"Yeah, a time-nemesis whose idea of fun is helping Damien Darhk and the Nazis blow up New York City," Sara clarified.

"What's to stop them from going back in time and kidnapping Einstein and his ex-wife again?" Raymond worried.

"We can't be everywhere at once," Mick pointed out through a mouthful of donut.

"But you can safeguard the Einsteins," Heywood finally piped up.

"Safeguard the Einsteins?" Stein asked, "How?"

Heywood turned to face them all, a small smile growing on his face. "By making one slight alteration to history."

Friday, October 16th, 1942

"How'd it go?" Len asked as he spotted Mick, Stein, and Heywood approaching them. He, Sara, Jax, and Raymond were waiting in an alley connecting the street to the empty lot where they'd parked the Waverider. Heywood's idea had been rather simple, yet brilliant: jump back in time to before they first arrived in 1942 and convince Einstein to go public with the fact that his ex was as brilliant as he was and that she'd been his longtime collaborator. This way, the US government would put just as much effort into keeping her safe as it did him, preventing them from being taken by the Nazis. The three men had put on disguises similar to what Len and Rip had worn while pretending to be FBI agents in 1958, and had been the ones to approach the physicist, claiming to be from the OSS, precursor to the CIA.

As for the would-be Nazi kidnappers, the rest of the team had taken it upon themselves to await their arrival and quietly take them out, since Einstein's personal security hadn't been able to stop them the first time around.

"Good," Heywood replied to Len's question, "Until someone gives the Confederate Army machine guns, or breaks Mozart's fingers…"

"One Aberration at a time," Stein advised him as the seven began to walk back to the ship.

"What do you guys say we get out of 1942?" Sara asked rhetorically, pulling out the remote control to de-cloak the ship.

"I'm in," Raymond commented, "Finally, we finish a mission without any problems."

Just then, the sound of a weapon being cocked had everyone turning around. "Not until you answer a few questions," a man in a strange red and blue leather getup, wielding a rifle and standing on a crate, told them, his tone hostile.

He wasn't alone, either. Three more people approached the Legends on foot. "We're the Justice Society of America," the woman in black and yellow announced.

"And you're coming with us," the guy in the goggles declared. The man in black and blue with a hood and mask covering his entire face said nothing, and neither did the blonde chick dressed like a female Captain America wannabe as she floated down from the sky with a glowing staff in hand.

"Why did you say that?" Len grumbled to Raymond.

Yes, I also took a quote from the original trailer. And I think the team is going to be wishing that the Confederates had gotten machine guns instead.

Next week, the showdown between the Legends and the JSA is going to go down very differently. Just because the way it went down in the actual episode pissed me off.