A Case of the Flu

Sara had never seen Snart looking so ill. She watched him closely as the team milled about the fabrication room, dressing in clothing appropriate for the Roaring Twenties.

Sara stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed, in a glittering black flapper dress with a feather in her hair. Her eyes followed Leonard's wilting figure as he pulled on his shiny grey suit jacket in a zombie-like fashion.

Rip entered the room, sporting his usual sepia trench coat, as Sara began to gravitate toward the ailing thief. The captain began to once more restate the mission's procedure, but Sara tuned him out. As far as she was concerned, their goal was to catch Savage…dead or alive, it made no difference to her.

She joined Leonard beside the door, where he too seemed to be not listening. As she approached, he made no notion as to whether or not he sensed her arrival. "Hey, Snart." Sara greeted him cautiously. She'd never seen him look so checked out.

But her words appeared to rouse him out of his stupor, and he simply dipped his head in her direction. "What, no snarky response?" Sara jibed. No answer. Either he was ignoring her, or just hadn't heard her.

Sara regarded him closely, concerned. "Snart, are you okay?" She was just now noticing the sheen of sweat coating his temple. "Leonard." She insisted, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Finally, his glassy gaze broke from where he had been staring aimlessly at the wall and his glazed blue eyes met hers. She didn't even have to ask if he was okay again, since he very clearly was not.

"Rip." Sara said, grabbing Snart's arm and dragging him over to the other man, who had just finished going over the details of the mission for the last time. "Snart's sick, he can't go."

"Sick?" Rip inquired, appearing thoroughly perplexed. He took a good look at Leonard, who was now giving the impression that he was more asleep than awake at that moment. "I see. Very well then, Miss Lance, escort him to his quarters and then rejoin the rest of the team."

"Uh…Rip…" Sara countered, keeping an iron grip on Snart's arm as he began to waver on the spot. In her peripheral vision, she saw him shake his head violently, as if he were attempting to clear it. "Maybe I should stay with him. You know…just to watch him."

Rip seemed rather unwilling to dismiss her from the mission, but after another glance at Snart, he nodded reluctantly and gestured for them to leave.

"Come on, Snart. Let's go." He shuffled out in her wake, and Sara led him down the hall to his room.

"I'm perfectly fine, if you must know," Snart finally spoke, managing to sleepily incorporate his signature drawl into the sentence.

"Don't waste your words," Sara chided. "You and I both know that's a lie." He fell silent again. Maybe because he succumbed to the fact that she was right, or he just didn't have the strength to offer up another response.

Once the pair reached Leonard's quarters, Sara helped him to his bed and he slumped down onto his pillows. "Let's take a good look at you, shall we?"

"Mm…" Snart mumbled drowsily. "And where exactly would you like to look?"

Sara shot him a pointed expression, but she was smiling. "How do you feel, huh?"

"Awful." He drawled, as if he couldn't care less.

She rolled her eyes and pressed the back of her hand against his perspiring forehead, much to his disgruntlement. He was burning up, just as she suspected. "Are you hot? Cold?" Sara asked, taking a seat on the edge of his mattress.

"I'm always cold," He retorted. Another roll of her eyes, but Sara could plainly see the faint shivering Snart was attempting to conceal. He sniffed dramatically, which in turn led to a loud sneeze, which therefore caused him to cough so much Sara was certain he was going to hack up a lung. After the coughing fit subsided, he sniffed again and rubbed his nose moodily.

Sara smirked. "I don't even need Gideon's help with this one." Leonard gave her a glare, which only caused her grin to widen. "You're on bedrest for the next couple of days, crook."

"Not happening." He said sleepily. It seemed to be taking all of his willpower to keep his eyes open and alert.

"Deal with it, Snart. You've got the flu."

"Snart."

He groaned, irritable. This had to be the fifteenth time Sara had interrupted his sleep. All he managed to achieve each time she let him be was to fall into a fitful doze.

"Don't be a baby." Sara scolded him. "I'm going to put a cold compress on your forehead. I just didn't want to startle you."

Leonard simply ignored her and closed his eyes as she pressed the cool wet cloth against his scalp. It admittedly felt good. "Now let me sleep in peace." He ordered her.

She chuckled lightly. "I won't bother you again until the soup's done."

"What soup?" He asked grumpily.

"The chicken noodle soup I told you I was making." Sara smiled. When she had brought up soup to him beforehand, Snart had responded with a sleepy grunt of approval, but he must've been half asleep at the time if he didn't remember.

"Not hungry." He insisted grouchily.

"I don't care." Sara retorted.

"Very well, if you want me to blow chunks." Snart answered, opening his eyes to glare at her.

"Believe it or not, Snart, it'll help you. Now sit up, I want you to drink some water." He growled in complaint, but still obeyed, hoisting himself upwards with some effort. Sara lifted the glass of cold water to his lips and he took a tentative sip as she tilted it downwards.

"You're shivering," She realized, pulling the water away. "Here." Sara grabbed a spare blanket and draped it across Snart's body. Immediately he seemed to relax. "Okay. Try to get some sleep."

"Mm…I'd be sleeping like a baby right about now if you hadn't kept waking me." Leonard grumbled.

"My sincere apologies." Sara replied with a smirk. "I'll be back later."

Just before she turned the corner out of his room, Sara looked back briefly and saw him immediately lapse back into fitful sleep.

She smiled.

"You kind of snore when you're sick."

Snart once more was roused by Sara's voice and he didn't even bother opening his eyes. "Go away." He moaned.

"Nope. Time to eat."

"No."

"Yes."

"No." He repeated, turning on his side with his back facing her.

"Eat or I'm going to force feed you."

After a beat, Snart relented and struggled into a sitting position while clutching his head. "Make it quick, assassin." His voice sounded rather thin and raspy, and Sara hoped the hot soup would help.

"Here." She carefully placed the tray containing the bowl of soup and spoon onto his lap. "Think you can handle eating a few spoonfuls?"

"How old do you think I am?" Snart commented snidely, taking the spoon in his fingers. But the minute he scooped up a spoonful of broth, his hand began to shake, and the utensil clattered back into the bowl, in turn splattering him with soup.

"Smooth, crook." Sara said with a smile. "Okay…" She took a seat on the mattress beside him and lifted a spoonful of soup to his lips. Immediately, he jerked away, embarrassed. "Don't be stupid, Snart." Sara scowled. "Open up, nobody's watching."

Leonard moodily powered through four spoonfuls before pushing Sara's hand away. "I'm gonna take your temperature." Sara moved the tray off of his legs and set it carefully on the floor before revealing a thermometer. Snart glowered at her momentarily before grudgingly opening his mouth for her to stick the instrument inside.

After a few awkward seconds, the thermometer beeped and Sara pulled it back. "103…" She mused. "Okay, Leonard. Get some sleep."

"Thought you'd never say that." Snart drawled.

But when Sara returned later, Leonard still lay awake, looking miserable. "Can't sleep?" Sara guessed. His head turned to the side to face her and even from the doorway, she could see his shivering. "Screw it." Sara approached his bed. "Sit up."

He looked at her confusedly, but still complied. Sara dropped down beside him, hoping to transmit some of her body heat to him. "You know you're actually burning up. You just feel cold."

"Doesn't make a difference," Snart replied, his voice muffled by his stuffed-up nose. He laid back again, but Sara noticed he was careful not to touch her. She pulled the blanket up to his shoulders and cautiously pressed against him. Immediately, he stiffened up.

"If you get me sick, I'm going to murder you." Sara murmured in his ear with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. He said nothing. "Loosen up, crook. It's okay." Gradually, he began to relax into her. Maybe it was only his exhaustion, but Sara hoped it was more than just that.

Sara carefully wrapped her arms gently around his shoulders and soon his head fell against her chest as he succumbed to sleep. She watched his unconscious face, truly taking him in for once. In sleep, he turned into a completely different man. All the anger, the resentment, the ghosts of his past…it all melted away. He looked peaceful, contented…innocent.

Sara pressed a kiss to the top of his head, something she never thought she'd do, and just sat with him. Only a fool would think she wouldn't be there when he woke up.