Warning: Brief mention of self harm. Viewer discretion advised.

Rip, Dez, and Mick were sneaking through a small words. Shadows were lurking around every corner, which was a bit freaky, Dez thought. It reminded her of her street days, when she had to be on the look out for anyone who was looking to mug her. (It was odd, too, she thought, because she could have sworn it had just been morning not even twenty minutes ago…But time travel was like that, Dez guessed.)

Mick grunted, growling at a green leaf, as he smacked it out of his face, shuffling his feet in the dirt as he trudged along. He reminded Deserey a bit of a child whining out of boredom. “I hate nature,” the arsonist complained, only to have Rip hold out his hand and shush him repeatedly.

Deserey paused, her hand falling to her sand bag, heart picking up pace. She looked around, trying to spot whatever Rip had heard, but she couldn’t see anything. Dez's stomach took another go at that game of Twister. All she could think, as they slowly made their way around a large tree trunk, was that Chronos would be waiting for them behind that tree, blaster at the ready. And then…

Deserey jumped, seeing a red flash of light that wasn’t really there. Mick and Rip glanced at her, and her face grew hotter. “I thought I saw a spider,” she lied.

“You afraid of spiders, Sandy?” Mick teased.

Dez rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I love spiders. That was a jump for joy.”

Rip ignored the conversation all together. He took the little gadget they’d been tracking the anomaly on from his trench coat. “Thirty meters,” he announced.

Deserey gave him a look. She’d never been that great a math in high school. (Or college for that matter, but that was besides the point.) “Translate to American, please?”

Rip scoffed and muttering something under his breath. Deserey wasn’t sure she’d heard him exactly right, but it sounded something like, “Yanks…” She was pretty sure it must have been an insult.

Before the captain could answer the question, though, Mick spoke up, surprising the other two. “It’s ninety-eight feet.” He stopped when he realized Dez and Rip were staring at him. “…What?”

“…I didn’t know you knew math,” Rip admitted. Mick rolled his eyes, but he didn’t say anything about it, as they continued walking. “Chronos must be hiding in the trees,” Rip said, glancing upwards. Mick and Dez followed his lead, cranking their necks upwards; Dez's curly fry stomach bounced a bit in her guts. She could just see Chronos pouncing down on top of her, waving that gun of his around like some wild animal…

A twig cracked near by. Dez spotted movement. She reacted without thinking, sending a blast of sand in that direction. A loud, “Omph!” emited from the bushes, and a man stumbled out from them. The man wasn’t Chronos…

The man hissed in pain, clawing at his eyes desperately trying to get the sand out. Mick raised his gun, charging it up as soon as his glare landed on the poor blinded man. Deserey took a hesitant step back, worried she might get caught in the crossfire, only Rip jumped forward. He pushed Mick's arm down before he even pulled the trigger.

The man blinked rapidly, rubbing his now watering eyes. He cringed, but Dez had to give him credit for not screaming his ass off. Taking a fist full of sand to the eye stung like a bitch. (She would know. It had happened to her plenty of times when she was trying to relax on the beach.) The guy sort of reminded Deserey of a Sith Lord, and she vaguely wondered how much the Time Masters (because that must have been what he was) based their organization off the Star Wars saga.

He was a white man with a long, dark robe that blended in with the shadows surrounding them, making it look like he was just a head floating in the center of darkness. His head was round, and his nose stuck out a little. (Dez thought he could poke someone’s eye out with it if he wanted to.) Through the darkness she couldn’t get a good look at what color his hair was – if she had to guess maybe a sandy blonde? – but somehow she could make his eyes out perfectly.

They were soft, vibrant blue, radiating warmth and kindness… Except it wasn’t in the same way Ray's did. Ray was practically the embodiment of happiness. His eyes were the very definition of caring. They’d always reminded Dez of the beach house she and Darryl use to rent when the kids were younger; it was this cozy little cottage, not much to look at, but it had always made her feel safe and loved. One of the few pleasant memories she’d let slip her mind as of late… Ray was that beach house.

This man…Deserey couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about him unnerved her. He looked nice on the surface, but for some reason Dez got the feeling that wouldn’t be the case if they dug a little deeper. He wasn’t a beach house. He was the opposite. He was that old shack Dez use to hide in when she was living on the streets. That old, torn mat that was infested with gnats that she had no choice but to sleep on. Nothing but angst and anger and hurt.

With a start Deserey realized he shared her father’s eyes. Not Ray's. Kind and genuine so long as you acted as he wanted you to. Her heart sank to the bottom of that ocean that had started filling her chest the night Rip recruited the team.

The Time Master glanced right at Rip, having got most of the sand out of his eyes by now. He completely ignored Deserey and Mick's presence. “Is that any way to treat an old friend?”

“Time Master Druce,” Rip said, looking a bit stunned to see him. “How on Earth did you find me?” Deserey couldn’t tell if he sounded more nervous or happy to see this Druce character. She wasn’t sure which response she was more afraid of either, because either way it meant trouble, didn’t it?

Druce's lips quirked upwards in a small smirk that sort of reminded Dez of Leonard when he was misbehaving. “You haven’t exactly been subtle.”

Rip cringed at his words, and Dez imagined he was probably agreeing with the Time Master. (Not that she could really blame him. They had almost destroyed history numerous times trying to save it, after all.)

Mick made a low, guttural noise in the depths of his throat, sending a rock hard glare Druce's way. “Can I waste this guy?”

To his credit Druce didn’t even flinch. He merely quirked an eyebrow upwards, glancing over Mick and Dez like he had only just realized they were there as well. (Though Deserey thought he was just being a dick, because she figured it should have been much more difficult to forget the person who’d tossed sand in your eyes.)  

Dez's intestines climbed up to her neck and wrapped around her throat, trying to strangle her. Something about Druce's gaze sent shivers down her spine. She tried to summon the ferocity she had when she’d been arguing with Mick, but all that rage had deflated a while ago; and the best she could muster up was a small huff and a movie reference. “He doesn’t like you.”

“Oh?” Druce said. His expression was utterly careless, even as Mick's glare intensified, his finger just itching to pull the trigger.

“I don’t like you either,” Dez said. She put her fists on her hips, hoping she came off more threatening than she felt. 

Druce turned back to Rip, letting out an unimpressed sigh. “What a colorful team you’ve assembled yourself.”

Rip ignored the comment, glancing at Mick and Deserey pleadingly. Dez thought he was going to ask them to take the guy out, but instead he said, “Could you give us a moment?”

Dez blinked, letting out a short scoff. “Uh, no?” she said. What the hell was he thinking, asking for alone time with one of the guys who were trying to kill him?

“You said I’d get to use my gun,” Mick said. (Dez was fairly sure that was his way of expressing his own concerns.) Rip eyed them, his Parent Look taking form again. Dez glared back at that captain, while Druce stood off to the side with his hands folded neatly in front of him, looking like he had all the time in the world. (As a time traveler, he sort of did.)

Suddenly, Mick relented without question. He powered down the heat gun, placing the thing in its hostler on his belt. With one final growl sent Druce's way, he grabbed Dez's arm, pulling her away from the scene. “C’mon, Sandy.”

“Very colorful indeed,” Druce muttered, watching them go.

Deserey smacked Mick’s hand, but he didn’t let go of her. She glared up at him, as he brought her around the nearest tree. “Are we just really gonna –”

“Obviously not. Now, shut up so we can hear!” Mick hissed. He crouched behind the tree's trunk, situating himself just right so that Rip and Druce wouldn’t spot him listening in. Deserey nodded and followed his lead. She got down on her knees, moving to the opposite side of the tree he was, leaning forward. It occurred to her, belatedly, that this was the second time she was spying on someone during a private conversation. Dez quickly shook thought away.

She could just barely make out Rip and Druce's forms from where she was, the bushes blocking her view slightly; their voices were faint, but she could still make out their words.

Rip had shoved his hands deep into his pockets again, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I thought you were –”

“Chronos?” Druce guessed. He looked down, like he actually felt bad for what he had to say. “He was killed in the crash, I’m afraid.” It was utter bullshit. Deserey wasn’t sure how she knew. Maybe she was nearly as good as spotting a lie as Leonard was. Or maybe she was just biased, because this man reminded her so much of her dad…

Shut up, Deserey scolded herself. That doesn’t matter anymore.

Druce stepped closer to Rip, moving in quick, swift motions that made Deserey's heart pound against her rib cage each time his feet touched the ground. “I was sent to scuttle his time ship, lest it be discovered by the Soviets.” Dez heard Mick grunt from behind her, so she figured he must have spotted his bluff too.

“And you left a temporal anomaly.” Deserey couldn’t tell, but she didn’t think Rip was catching on to Druce's lies, which really worried her. But the Waverider's captain wasn’t meeting the Time Master's eyes, so she still held out hope.

“To lure you out of the cold, as it were,” Druce admitted. “You’ve turned your back on the very institution you were meant to serve.” Something about his word choice bugged her. Something about the way he’d said meant, as if Rip's sole purpose for existing was to please him and his Time Master buddies.

“Our job is to protect time,” Druce went on, “thereby protecting all life.” It sounded similar to something Rip had said earlier on their travelings together, and with a start Deserey realized this was the guy he’d learned it all from. That did not bode well…

“I am trying to save the world from complete destruction,” Rip defended, taking a step closer to the Time Master. Deserey sighed in relief, at least for the moment.

Rip stepped around Druce, forcing the Time Master to turn as well. For a brief second both their backs were turned to Mick and Dez. The two started to walk away, their voices getting softer as the left. Mick nudged Dez, gesturing for her to follow them and keep quiet. (Not that she needed to be told to do any of that )

Dez and Mick walked in a crouching potion a few paces behind Rip and Deuce. She felt like they were making a lot of noise, but neither of the two men seemed to notice.

Druce sighed, as though his lectures weighed heavily on his heart. He shook his head, glancing at the forest floor, as if Rip was the biggest disappointment in his life right now. “You and your band of rogues have run rampant throughout history. This is why we work alone, Rip. A team is a liability; you’ve proved that.”

Rip walked a little further, even as Druce came to a halt. (Deserey was so distracted by the conversation and trying to keep quiet that she had almost walked right out of her hiding place; Mick had to grab her arm and yank her back.) From the new angle Dez could see the side of Deuce’s face, but Rip’s back was turned. (She imagined his face was pretty distraught.)

“They keep you from making the tough choices,” Druce said.

Rip whipped around suddenly, and Deserey could tell he was getting a bit agitated from the look in his eyes. “I am here because the council refused to make that tough choice.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Deserey whispered from her hiding place. “Why is this guy showing up now? I’m guessing he doesn’t wanna help us.”

“Time Cop's offering the Englishman a deal,” Mick said quietly. “He turns himself in, we’ll go back to 2016. But they’ll probably just kill us all instead.”

“How can you tell?” Dez asked. He didn’t answer. When she glanced at him, he wouldn’t meet her eyes, just staring intently at the scene before them. She shrugged it off, figuring it must have been some kind of crooks' intuition or something. Dez turned back to the conversation.

Druce flashed Rip a tight smile that might have been fatherly coming from any other man, and Dez knew Rip was in trouble. “Well, sometimes, they can be slow to realize the obvious, but I’ve been authorized to offer you a deal.”

Dez glanced back at Mick, eyes wide. This time he looked over and gave her a short nod, like: See? Told ya so!

“End this foolish crusade; return with me to the Vanishing Point,” Druce said. Deserey wasn’t sure what ‘the Vanishing Point' was, but it didn’t sound very fun. She hoped they wouldn’t have to go there any time soon…

“You’ll be acquitted of all charges, and in…” Deuce hesitated a moment, mentally working some math, “a few hundred years, we may be able to fix the damage you’ve caused.”

That was enough to ignite the rage Dez had been looking for earlier. (It annoyed her a little that it hadn’t shown up until now.) For one thing, the deal seemed pretty one sided. The Time Masters got everything they wanted, while Rip and the team got squat. The other thing that pissed her off was the way this guy said 'damage you’ve caused.'

As far as Dez could tell, Rip hadn’t actually done any real harm to the time line. All he’d done was try to save his family. That was it. Any issues had been caused by Deserey and the others. They were the screw ups that history would be better off without. Not Rip. Even at that, she was sure that the team had gone back and fixed all the mistakes they’d made. They had gotten that piece of Ray's suit back when he’d accidentally lost it in the ‘70s, they’d put Stein's personal life back on track after young Marty followed them back to the ship, they had even taken care of that monster issue in the ‘50s. So, what the hell could Druce possibly be talking about?

Deserey heard another guttural noise. She had assumed it had been Mick again, but when he glanced at her with a mildly concerned look, she realized it had been her. Dez had her fist clenched at her sides, her whole body trembling. She didn’t realize it until several hours later, but she was crying too. Dez grit her teeth, feeling like she was about to crack them. It was a bit like how she imagined David Banner (Bruce Banner in the MCU) got before he turned into the Incredible Hulk.

Only instead of green, she was turning red. Not just in her physical appearance either, in her vision too. Like a wave of blood had washed over her, everything in her line of sight had gained a red film over it. It was blinding.

“Damn, and they call me the hot head.” Mick rolled his eyes. Dez glared at him, but she didn’t care enough to respond to the pointless banter. It was all she could do not to jump out of their hiding place and beat Druce to a pulp.

“And what about my team?” Rip asked, seemingly unaware of Deserey or Mick's presence despite all the noise they had been making a few moments ago.

“They'll be returned to their own time lines, unharmed,” Druce said, apparently not noticing either of their stalkers either. Druce sighed, giving Rip that fony dad look again, which just made Dez want to knock his teeth out even more. “You were one of my brightest pupils…and by far my favorite. Will you at least consider my offer?”

“…I'll consult with my comrades,” Rip said.

“Please do, Rip,” Druce said, almost sounding sincere, “and then meet me here in an hour.” The Time Master stepped around Rip, stalking off, like he had already won. Rip, of course, turned his head, asking the question anyone would ask in his shoes, “And if I don’t?”

“Then, you’re beyond my help.” Druce stopped in his tracks, turning to give Rip these big sad eyes, like it hurt him to even suggest anything of the sort; but Deserey knew better. He didn’t really mean any of that sappy crap he’d said to Rip. He didn’t mean a word, and he sure as hell wasn’t planning on keeping his deal. He didn’t care about any of them, least of all Rip. Everything he said was a lie. Manipulation. Games. Everything he’d done it was to shape him into some damn puppet that he could manipulate.

She wasn’t sure when, but at some point the lines blurred together. Her rage wasn’t directed at Druce anymore, it was directed at her father. And it wasn’t about Rip…It was about her.

Dez’s nails were digging into her palms, and she thought maybe she might try to make them bleed, just to trade the anger in for pain, because somehow that was a lot easier to deal with. She probably would have done it, but Mick grabbed her shoulder and pulled her backwards. Dez glared at him, when she fell on her ass. He ignored her, reaching into his coat pocket and bringing out a small, silver lighter.

Mick tossed it to her, and Dez fumbled it. “Use that,” he said.

She scoffed. “What the fuck am I gonna do with this? Burn myself? That's so fucking helpful, thanks.” What the hell was wrong with him? Wasn’t he supposed to be apart of that stupid suicide watch they’d put together for her? Yet here he was, giving Dez the perfect way to harm herself when she was feeling the need for it the most.

Mick glared at her, like he thought she was stupid. (Which he did, since he had said as much during their shouting match.) “No. Just look at it. The fire.”

“Why the hell –”

“Just do it. Quit acting like a bitch.”

Dez rolled her eyes, but she did what he asked. She hadn’t held a lighter since she’d smoked that one cigarette at a party just to piss her dad off, so it took a moment for her to figure out how to turn the damn thing on – which was frustrating as hell – but once she’d gotten it, it was obvious why Mick had wanted her to look at it. 

She wasn’t a Pyromaniac by any means of the word, but the flames – though small – were actually really beautiful, calming even. The red film slipped away, replaced by the dull orange of the flame. For a while, that was all she seen. The little baby fire flickered in the wind, almost like it was waving at her; and she imagined it was a small child, playing tag with its siblings on the beach… Laughing, smiling…just love and safety…and warmth.

Deserey blinked after a minute – or was it two? She looked up at Mick, who was watching her intently. “Better?” he asked in a voice that didn’t really sound like his. She nodded.  “Good.” He took it back, staring at the baby flame himself, now.

Dez took a shaky breath, running her hand through her hair. “Uh, thanks…I guess.” Mick grunted but didn’t say anything. Absently, Deserey wondered where Rip was…

She was about to ask Mick if she’d seen him leave, when the Captain approached. “That’s a pretty sweet deal Time Cop gave you,” Mick said without looking up from the lighter. His voice sounded like his own again.

Rip made an annoyed sound, though he didn’t seem surprised. “I see we can add ‘eavesdropping’ to your criminal résumé.”

Not that you can judge, Deserey though, guilty thinking of the scene they’d watched of Len and his younger self.

“Maybe you should start thinking like a crook,” Mick said. He flicked the lighter shut, rising to his feet. “Your friend's planning on killing you.”

“Time Master Druce is one of my most trusted friends; besides if he wanted to do me any harm, why didn’t he do it just now when he had the chance?” Rip said, somehow still believing any of the Time Masters could actually be on his side. It sort of hurt to watch…

Deserey jumped to her feet, clasping her hands together. She took a deep breath, trying to stop the rage from surfacing again. “They sent a mother fucking assassin after you, Rip!” 

Rip hesitated, and Dez was tempted to smack him, especially when he mumbled, “Almost forgot about that…”

“He wants you to bring the whole team with you,” Mick said, like Dez hadn’t interrupted him. “And that’s not gonna happen. Because I’m taking a pass, and I’m guessing Snart will too, when he finds out about this.”

The arsonist stalked off, leaving Rip and Dez behind. Rip sighed. Deserey could tell he was torn. He wanted to believe the best in his friend – because how could someone you thought cared about you hurt you so bad? – but he also knew, deep down, that she and Mick were right. Druce wasn’t his friend any more.

Deserey let out a heavy breath from her nose. She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on the wind blowing through her hair, pretending it was the humid air of the beach; she moved her toes around in her shoes, make believing her feet were bare and that the dirt was sand. (Her therapist had told her once that this would help calm her nerves, since the beach was – apparently – her happy place, but it never really worked how it was suppose to. Maybe she was just doing that wrong too…) Then, she opened her eyes and barely looked the captain in the eyes. “…I’m sorry, Rip.”

He frowned. “For what?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just feel…something.” It was stupid, but the truth was she didn’t even know what she felt in that moment. She’d been ready to murder Druce for merely insulting their team…and now? Now she was just empty. She was a hollowed box with nothing inside but darkness and empty space.

Rip nodded slowly. He opened his mouth to say something – maybe he had figured out what was wrong with Dez and had devised away to fix her, because dads were that way weren’t they? (Even the ones who kicked their daughters out because she didn’t end up quite the way he wanted her to be or the ones who hurt their sons because they didn’t listen quite the way they wanted them to.) They just somehow figured out the problem without you saying a single word, and they fixed it. Just like that…

But Rip didn’t have some magical solution to get rid of whatever it was Deserey felt. All he said was, “We should follow Mr. Rory…”

Dez tried to hide the look of disappointment on her face, but he probably seen it anyway. She nodded slowly, dragging her feet as she trailed after the arsonist.

Me: Updates will be slow!

Also me: Updates twice in the same day

I just needed a distraction from my issues so here we are 🤷🏻

(I've also low key been excited for this bit so...)

I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter 😁😁 Next we're gonna follow, Ray, Carter, and Lenny with Vostok because I've got something a bit...extra for that scene planned. Mwhaha!