[Rip is not a man to forge bonds easily. He does not trust, nor often reveal the full scope of his plans; he makes decisions on his own, and quite frequently for others as much as for himself. Yet those who have found their way into that circle he holds dear mean more than words can express--and by that same token, their losses cut deep and true, each a knife to the best parts of him, the heart and the humanity that have remained no matter how the Time Masters strived to train it out of him.
He can list them all by name. Leonard Snart, Mick Rory, Kara Zor-El, Sara Lance, Nate Heywood.
Carter Hall. Charles, and by his own hand.
Calvert.
Miranda Coburn.
Jonas Hunter.
And tonight, he'd worried that Peggy Carter would be added to that number. Her death would have been tragic, but at least also undone in the span of a day. Her vanishing, however, he can neither predict nor prevent. One moment she will be there; the next gone, as all who are brought to Wonderland will one day be.
His chest had grown tight at the thought. It does so again now, as she informs him with that unhappy grin that there's nothing to be done.
Nothing he can do to keep her from walking away.
Nothing.
But as time may indeed wish to happen, as this universe might well have some hidden agenda and flow, Rip will not merely let it occur. Not when there is something so final in the way she tells him goodbye, when she swears it won't make any difference at all.
He's the man who would stop at almost nothing to try and save his family. Over and over again.
Peggy isn't dead. She isn't gone--not yet. Rip can still reach out and touch her, so he does. Takes hurried steps when she turns towards his door, dizzied but determined, thrusts his hand forward to grip her arm and force Peggy back to face him. He's no more capable of defining it than she, this thing that's shifting, morphing between them. What has changed that she means to run away from, that perhaps he would as well if he weren't dizzy with anger and alcohol, and the unshakable thought that whatever it is, it's worth fighting for.
He doesn't bother to speak. She may hit him; lord knows he won't be able to much block it in the shape he's in. But he's not about to simply let her go.]
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He can list them all by name. Leonard Snart, Mick Rory, Kara Zor-El, Sara Lance, Nate Heywood.
Carter Hall. Charles, and by his own hand.
Calvert.
Miranda Coburn.
Jonas Hunter.
And tonight, he'd worried that Peggy Carter would be added to that number. Her death would have been tragic, but at least also undone in the span of a day. Her vanishing, however, he can neither predict nor prevent. One moment she will be there; the next gone, as all who are brought to Wonderland will one day be.
His chest had grown tight at the thought. It does so again now, as she informs him with that unhappy grin that there's nothing to be done.
Nothing he can do to keep her from walking away.
Nothing.
But as time may indeed wish to happen, as this universe might well have some hidden agenda and flow, Rip will not merely let it occur. Not when there is something so final in the way she tells him goodbye, when she swears it won't make any difference at all.
He's the man who would stop at almost nothing to try and save his family. Over and over again.
Peggy isn't dead. She isn't gone--not yet. Rip can still reach out and touch her, so he does. Takes hurried steps when she turns towards his door, dizzied but determined, thrusts his hand forward to grip her arm and force Peggy back to face him. He's no more capable of defining it than she, this thing that's shifting, morphing between them. What has changed that she means to run away from, that perhaps he would as well if he weren't dizzy with anger and alcohol, and the unshakable thought that whatever it is, it's worth fighting for.
He doesn't bother to speak. She may hit him; lord knows he won't be able to much block it in the shape he's in. But he's not about to simply let her go.]