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EXT: CENTRAL CITY, NIGHT.
We’re in a poorly-lit alleyway, somewhere downtown. There’s a flickering neon light, a sign for a bar, cursive script over an abstract martini glass that’s all the more abstract for the parts that no longer hold light, and the gaudy colors are flickering over a rusted dumpster. There’s a light rain falling, leaving neat little circles in the puddles on the asphalt. It’s quiet. It’s kind of beautiful, in a gritty, urban, kind of way. It would probably make a neat gif for an aesthetic set.
The puddle splashes away from its pretty neon-colored quietness as a boot slams down into the middle of it, ruining the soft image.
Two young men, in their early twenties, are running down the alley, one with a bag slung over his shoulder and black leather gloves on his elegant hands, the other in a canvas jacket and with a gun clutched in his hand. They pause under the sign, and the young man with the gun braces himself on his knees.
“You think we’re good?” he asks. The other guy props himself against the wall with a casual grace that’s rather undermined by his red cheeks.
“Well, I don’t hear sirens,” he deadpans. “I’d say we’re good, Mick.”
Mick lets out a muffled, breathless, whoop, without standing up. His companion sniggers, just a little.
“Does that mean we can go get a drink now?” Mick asks.
“That sounds like a good -” his companion starts, and then the rain interrupts his statement, pounding down double time in a thunderous wash. Mick starts to laugh, tilting his head back to welcome the sudden downpour. His companion, however, wears an expression rather like a disappointed cat denied food or scritches.
Mick, turning to look at him, only laughs harder.
QUICK CUT TO …
INT: WAVERIDER GALLEY, WHATEVER PASSES FOR NIGHT ON A SHIP WHERE THE ONLY THING MARKING THE PASSAGE OF TIME IS AN AI
Mick Rory is sitting at the galley table, leaning across it with his hands wrapped around a glass beer bottle.
“You were so put out about that;” he says, with a half-smile. “You always hated the wet.”
The camera swings around, and we see Leonard Snart sitting - well, lounging - on the table’s other side, rolling his eyes at Mick.
“Anyone would hate being stuck in a torrential downpour, Mick;” drawls Len, placing the familiar rolling emphasis on the name.
“But you - you hate the wet;” Mick pushes, beginning to gesture with the neck of his beer bottle. “You hate it so much. You’re like a cat.”
“I’m nothing like a cat;” Len says, a little offended, plainly.
“You’re absolutely like a cat;” says Mick.
The camera turns slightly, and reveals Jax standing in the door to the galley, just far enough behind Mick that Mick hasn’t seen him yet. He looks confused, and a little horrified. We swing around to view the scene from Jax’s perspective, and it is suddenly clear that Len is - not sitting at the table.
“You’d push things off tables for attention if you had to, you’re absolutely a cat.” Mick says, to no one.
There’s a moment where Mick is obviously hearing the Len he is seeing reply, and then Mick’s face twists down into something like a small frown.
“Why did you leave me?” he asks.
Jax takes a half step into the room. “Mick?” he says, softly. “Mick, who are you talking to?”
Mick starts around, sharp and defensive immediately.
“What do you mean?” he says. “Never mind - it’s nothing.”
“Who are you talking to, Mick?” Jax asks again.
Mick, realizing he’s been caught, sighs and admits, “Snart.”
Jax’s eyes go big and round.
“There’s no one there, Mick.”
“He’s in my head and at the table.” Mick grumbles, and Jax crosses the room and braces his hands against the back of the chair that Len had been sitting in.
“Mick,” he says, voice soft, “Mick, are you hallucinating?”
LEGENDS OF TOMORROW INTRO (NARRATED BY JAX)
INT: WAVERIDER MEDBAY, PROBABLY CLOSER TO EARLY MORNING THAN NIGHT
Mick’s sitting on one of the chairs Gideon uses for scans, not lying down but rather a little sideways so his feet are resting on the floor. Jax is to his left and Ray to his right, with Stein and Sara frowning over the scans Gideon has produced behind them. Amaya is floating a little more towards the door, concerned.
“There is nothing in the scans to suggest a root cause for Mister Rory’s hallucinations,” says Gideon, and Ray turns, a bright smile on his face, plainly about to offer some delighted and happy one-liner.
“That doesn’t change that I saw him.” says Mick, deadpan.
Ray deflates. There’s a beat, and then everyone starts talking at once.
“Alright!” Sara yells, finally. “Alright, one at a time.”
“We need something to compare Mister Rory’s scan to. An older scan, perhaps,” says Stein. “Without it, it is near impossible to be sure what the scans reveal.”
“Look, we can figure this out, right?” Jax says. “We’ll have a solution in no time at all.”
“Right!” says Ray. “If Gideon can regrow body parts, then we can absolutely fix a problem like this.”
“It could just be Snart,.” offers Amaya. “His spirit could be following you. It is - uncommon, but not unheard of.”
Mick looks up, eyes hard.
“It is, however, equally likely that Mick has some kind of mental deficiency,” she continues, and Ray makes a small, affronted kind of noise.
“We don't talk like that anymore.” Ray says. “It's - we just - you can't say that.”
Amaya frowns at him, and opens her mouth to say something.
“I’ll get you some of the research. The vocabulary’s different, now.”
“Could be the Time Bastards,” Mick says, startling Sara out of her concerned contemplation of his face.
“What do you mean?” says Jax.
“When they stuck me in the chair, messed with my -” Mick cuts off, waves a hand at his temple to indicate his brain and the traumatic memories of being brainwashed. “This could be left over.”
There’s a moment of utter silence where we see each of the team’s shocked and horrified faces as they realize the depth of what Mick must have endured and the ramifications sink in.
“I hate to interrupt,” says Gideon, “But my program has found another aberration that suggests the presence of a piece of the spear.”
CUT TO: INT: WAVERIDER LIBRARY
“The what in the where, now?” says Sara.
“The sinking of the Rainbow Warrior, in Auckland Harbor. The event took place in 1985.”
“Alright, I think we’re going to need a full background report, Gideon, because I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The Rainbow Warrior was a Greenpeace flagship. It led a fleet of smaller boats that were attempting to halt nuclear testing by the French Government in Moruroa. It was sunk by two French Intelligence agents, and the sinking resulted in one death - Fernando Pereira. The agents were later caught by the New Zealand police, thanks to the aid of a neighborhood watch group, and the prosecution of the agents resulted in a scandal that led to the resignation of the French Defence Minister at that time and the temporary halt of nuclear testing.”
“And what’s happened?” asks Stein. “What has been changed?”
“Someone has undone the incident. It has not occurred.”
“What is nuclear testing?” Amaya asks. “It is a concept I am not familiar with.”
There’s a beat, and then Jax clears his throat.
“Gideon? Have you got some testing footage somewhere? I’m afraid I can’t give you a precise event - in school they only ever show us Hiroshima.”
We just see Amaya’s face as she watches the footage. The look of horror she’s wearing by the end is staggering.
“How -” she starts, and then she turns away and covers her mouth with her hands. She clearly finds the whole concept abhorrent.
“So we have to condemn someone to die in order to rectify this aberration.” says Ray. “That’s - I’m not sure I could live with that.”
“The last time we tried to stop someone dying it - didn’t go so well.” says Sara. “We shouldn’t risk that again.”
“But what if the fleet completes it’s intended journey and the testing gets halted anyway?” says Sara. “The effect would be the same.”
“It may not be,” Ray says. “The scandal is what prompted the resignation of the Minister. If he doesn’t resign, who knows what will happen?”
“We could plant evidence and establish a scandal.” offers Stein. “Why should we not seek to alter history in such a way that we might save lives? Some aberrations are worth saving.”
He’s plainly thinking about Lily.
“Grey has a point.” says Jax. “Sometimes you need a martyr to tumble a man with power. As much as it hurts to admit it, death is always a good rallying cry.”
“And sometimes people die for things they never really believed in,” says Mick. “Doesn’t make either one right.”
He’s not looking at anyone as he says it. His eyes, instead, are fixed on the space by the door.
The camera pans, and we see Len leaning against the wall, smirking.
“Is he here?” asks Sara. “Can you see him?”
Mick grunts an affirmative, and Jax reaches over to squeeze his shoulder, a show of solidarity.
“He did die for something important, something he believed in,” says Jax. “And we should honor that.”
The reminder of Len’s sacrifice seems to sober the team, who all focus their gaze on the research Gideon has pulled up.
“It appears we have a ship to sink,” says Sara.
Stein and Amaya in particular look reluctant, but the team sets to work.
What follows is a montage of the team putting on the frankly terrible fashion of New Zealand in the 80s, set to “Come On Eileen”. It should involve dancing - from everyone. Amaya and Jax are absolutely the best of them all, Ray does a passable robot, Nate has no rhythm, Mick seems to just be laughing while Sara attempts to make him dance, Jax totally does a cute little two-step-type thing with Stein. We then cut back to the team in the library in their disguises.
“On further research,” Ray announces, waving a sheaf of notes in one hand, “the ship was sunk using two limpet mines with different detonation times. There were six agents involved, only two of whom were caught. With this in mind, it appears we need to divide and conquer. Someone needs to keep an eye on the neighborhood watch, and someone needs to build and replace the mines.”
“I can swim the mines into place,” says Amaya, “if I know where to put them.”
“And naturally I can build them,” Stein offers.
“I think we need you in the field, Professor,” says Sara.
“Then who will build the explosives?”
There’s a beat, and then Ray coughs.
“Mick could. No one knows how to blow things up like Mick.”
Everyone looks at Mick, who shrugs.
“I’ve made them before,” he says. “Cut through stubborn vaults like nobody’s business.”
“There we go,” says Sara. “Mick can build them, with Jax’s help. The Professor and I will go take the tour and make sure the Watch gets its tip. Ray, can you figure out where Amaya should put the mines?”
Ray nods. Sara turns away, and we see Ray looking worried - perhaps it's not as easy as he's making it out to be.
“Let’s go, team!” says Sara, with clearly faked enthusiasm.
CUT TO: EXT: AUCKLAND DOWNTOWN
Sara and Stein are walking side by side down a relatively busy street. Sara stops a young man who’s passing them with a hand on his arm.
“Excuse me,” she starts, flirtatious smile already in place, “which way to the Rainbow Warrior?”
The young man beams, and replies in a thick Kiwi accent, with obviously detailed instructions and waving his hands effusively. Upon cutting back to Sara and Stein, it's clear neither of them has understood a word he’s said.
Fading in behind their confused faces is the opening to the greatest Kiwi protest song of all time and the titular track of the episode, Blam Blam Blam’s "There Is No Depression In New Zealand”. While the song plays, we alternate between the three narratives we’re following. Sara and Stein navigate downtown Auckland and do the tour while plainly not understanding most of what is said to them and surreptitiously looking for possible spear hiding places. Jax and Mick build the mines, with great success if Jax’s growing smile is anything to go by. Amaya repeatedly checks on Ray and his calculations regarding the placement, with increasingly hilarious amounts of discarded paper every time she sticks her head into the library. Mick and Jax test an explosive and Jax whoops when it works. The music fades out as Sara and Stein leave the ship, and notice a disguised Rip in the line to board. Sara glances over at Stein, and the two hurry away looking worried, aware that the Legion is on their tail.
CUT TO: INT: WAVERIDER, WHEREVER MICK AND JAX HAVE BEEN BUILDING MINES
“So how long did you and Snart know each other?” asks Jax, hands clamped down tight over the pliers he’s using to hold the wires in place.
Mick’s entire frame tenses up, and he stops the soldering work he’d been doing.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Jax adds, hurriedly.
Mick sighs, and goes back to what he was doing. Silence falls, for just a moment.
“Around about thirty years,” Mick says.
Jax stares at him, eyes wide.
“Met him the first time he got sent to Juvie,” Mick says, adding a new wire to a different part of the mine. “He was tiny back then, little shrimpy guy. Still had that smart mouth of his, though. Always got him into trouble.”
Jax laughs a little, remembering Len’s tendency towards snark.
“Anyway, he’d been in for all of a few hours, and he mouths off at a gang, and suddenly someone pulls a shiv. And I went in and banged some heads until they decided to leave.”
He stops, looking - almost nostalgic.
“And then?” Jax prompts.
“And then we stuck together,” says Mick, like that’s final.
“Just like that?” Jax clarifies.
“Just like that.” Mick says, and then finishes the detail he’s been working on.
“It must have been nice, having a partner like that.” Jax says, contemplative. “Someone you could trust. Someone who trusted you.”
Mick says nothing, and they continue in silence until Mick lets out a satisfied grunt and puts his tools down.
“We done?” asks Jax, peering at the mechanism.
“Yup,” says Mick, and gets up, carrying the device out of the room and towards Amaya and the rest of the team. He pauses at the door, half-turned, shadows hanging over his face.
“And it was. Nice.”
He heads off down the corridor, out of sight, and Jax looks confused for a moment, before realizing it was an answer to his hanging question, before he looks - sad.
CUT TO: INT: WAVERIDER LIBRARY
As Ray punches the air in triumph and projects two dots on the blueprints of the Rainbow Warrior in front of him and Amaya. He's obviously just solved the problem. Amaya grins, delighted, and the moment is -
Ruined, because Sara’s on the intercom.
“Guys, we’ve got a problem. The Legion is here too. Mick, Jax, are the mines done?”
“Yup!” says Jax. He and Mick appear in the doorway to the library, Mick carrying the mines. They've been - hurrying. Mick’s not the kind to run and Jax still has a shot Achilles. “We are -”
Jax looks at Ray for confirmation, and Ray smiles sunnily.
“Good to go!” says Jax, offering Ray a slightly breathless thumbs up.
“Then we need to get going. Mick, Amaya, let’s get these things placed.”
CUT TO: EXT: DOWNTOWN AUCKLAND
Amaya’s got an arm looped through Mick’s as they walk. Mick’s peering into bars as they pass them.
“Want somewhere to watch the match?” asks a man standing outside a bar as he smokes.
Mick snorts.
“Don't really have the time tonight,” he says, and Amaya smiles a little at the inside joke.
The guy peers at them a little more closely.
“Say,” he says, with sudden scepticism, “you don't root for the Wallabies, do you?”
Mick picks up the speed, tugging Amaya after him. She looks confused, but follows.
We cut back to our smoking All Blacks fan, who drops his cigarette and grinds it out, shaking his head.
“Bloody Aussies.” he says, and turns back to go inside.
EXT: RAINBOW WARRIOR DOCK
Mick stands by the edge of the pier, frowning into the darkness as Amaya emerges from the shadows, now in her suit.
“You sure you’re okay with doing this?” he asks her.
“While Ray was doing his calculations, I did some further research,” she tells him, fingers hovering over her totem. “The potential effects of the radiation given off - the destructive nature of the technology -”
She pauses, still plainly concerned, and Mick waits for her to go on.
“I still don’t believe we should necessarily be killing anyone if we can avoid it,” she says, “but there are a great many lives that can be saved by ensuring this testing halts. And if this is a means to that end, maybe I can stomach it.”
Mick nods. It’s a good enough explanation for him - between that and Jax’s reminder, maybe he can believe it too. Maybe this is something that needs to be done, for a greater, broader, good.
“It’s not worth it,” says a voice in his ear that sounds just like Lenny. “It’s never going to be worth it.”
Mick ignores it.
“It's gonna be cold,” he says. “It's winter down here.”
Amaya rests her hand on her totem, summons the abilities of a dolphin.
“I'll be fine,” she says, and picks up the bag with the mines. “Can you activate Ray’s device for me?”
Mick pulls something from the bag, a handheld thing that looks a bit like a walkie-talkie, and flicks a switch and fiddles with some settings before handing it back.
“Here goes,” she says, and leaps off the end of the pier.
Mick watches the splash with some trepidation, as Sara, Jax, and Stein burst through the arch at the end of the pier.
“Is she -” asks Stein, and Mick nods.
They all look down at the water, and -
We’re with Amaya, who’s got two little red dots, projected by the device Mick had calibrated, showing her where to fix the mines. It all seems to be going well, and she surfaces with a neat pop, to half-joking applause from Jax.
“A perfect 10 from the Russian judge,” he jokes, earning a tiny smile from Mick. Amaya, who's now back on the pier and dripping a puddle onto the surface, shoots him a look while hiding a smile. She summons a dog’s powers and shakes herself off, making Jax jump back as she splashes him. They turn to go, and then freeze.
“It wasn’t you the last time, was it?” asks someone, from the shadows.
Sara spins, knives sliding out of her sleeves, and braces herself for an attack. It’s Amaya who reaches out to stop her, a gentle hand on Sara’s arm to suggest that she can stand down. The young woman who steps out into the half-light of the dock is in her early twenties, moko on her chin, hair twisted back into a bun.
“What do you mean?” asks Stein.
“The first time the ship sank. It wasn’t you. It was someone else.”
Her hands clench and unclench in front of her, and she glances between the group of them. Stein steps forward to say something, and Jax speaks over him before he can start.
“It wasn’t us, no. But this has to happen.”
She looks up, plainly horrified.
“It has to happen? Why could it possibly have to happen?”
“Without this, the man who orchestrated the attack will not be forced to resign, and he could do so many more horrific things. This is the reason they suspend nuclear testing. This means you win.”
Her eyes widen, rounder than round.
“Look,” Jax starts, and then he stops. “What’s your name?”
“Ngaire.” she tells him.
“Look, Ngaire, sometimes death is necessary. One human death can topple entire regimes, can change thought and action for generations.”
Ngaire scoffs, her hands flying up.
“How can you say that? How can you think that? With the history of your people and the history of mine, how can you possibly believe that?”
Jax’s eyes cut over to Mick, standing back, and then return to Ngaire.
“I watched someone I cared about - someone brave, and intelligent - sacrifice himself to make sure every person, from the dawn of time until the end of it, had the chance to make their own decisions and influence history in their own ways. Making sure that history runs as it is recorded is my way of honoring him for that sacrifice.”
Ngaire studies Jax’s face for a long moment.
“This was a test, you know,” she says. “If this worked, I was going to see if I could make them honor the treaties fully. Maybe I could make it so they never landed at all.”
She looks away.
“I get it.” says Jax. “So much that has happened is awful, so much is there that could be fixed. But every event, every horror, every scrap of brutality - it’s all part of history, part of what shapes us, as people, in the moment that we live in.”
Ngaire looks unimpressed, and raises an eyebrow.
“Also, we already tried playing God and changing it up once, and damn did that blow up in our faces,” says Jax, and then he flinches. “That was a poor choice of wording. I’m sorry, Mick.”
Mick shrugs, a wry little smile on his face. For a second, Len is visible at Mick’s shoulder, looking proud. It’s clear Jax can’t see him, and neither can the others.
“It got worse?” asks Ngaire, in a small voice. She looks like she might cry.
“So much worse.” Jax confirms.
Ngaire brushes the tears out of her eyes with the back of her knuckles.
“It’s in the flagpole. The top half.”
Sara makes the kind of noise that comes with a sharp intake of air.
“I don’t know what it is, or where it comes from, but the wood grain doesn’t line up and the wishes only work when I’m holding it.”
“Thank you, Ngaire.” says Amaya, stepping forward to lay a hand on her shoulder. “You’re saving a great many lives by helping us.”
“I hope that’s true.” says Ngaire, and then she swallows, and wraps her hand around Amaya’s bicep to pull her in. They stand, for a moment, with their foreheads pressed together, breathing each other’s air. The light lances through from behind them, a moment of quiet.
“Haere rā” she says.
“You should go.” says Jax. “There’s others looking for this.”
“They won’t find me.” says Ngaire. “Nobody white cares enough about who’s at the Marae to tell them, and none of my whanau will spill the beans.”
“Thank you.” says Jax, and Ngaire pulls him in too. Jax steps into it, and they bump foreheads, making them both grin.
“Look after yourself, Time Traveler.” she says, and then she leaves.
“That was easy.” Mick says, bemused, and then heads for the door. He wraps an arm around Jax’s shoulders as he does, tugging the younger man along.
“You weren’t dealing with the accents all the time,” says Sara. “But it’s about time something went smoothly for us.”
We get a clear shot of Len as they leave. He's got a look on his face much like he did when talking to his younger self - he's plainly been affected by their discussion.
QUICK CUT OF THE WAVERIDER FLYING AWAY
CUT TO: INT: WAVERIDER
“Well done on the mines, Mister Rory,” says Stein, and awkwardly pats Mick on the shoulder before turning into a room off the corridor he, Mick, and Jax have been walking down. Jax looks delighted that Stein bothered to say anything, and Mick looks a little shellshocked. He and Jax keep walking in companionable silence for a few steps, then Jax takes a deep breath.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he says.
Mick looks over at him, confused.
“For what?”
“I didn’t realize how much it had to have hurt, losing Snart like that,” says Jax. “I should have asked.”
Mick shrugs a little.
“I should have asked, should have seen how you were,” Jax continues. He’s obviously practiced what he’s going to say. It’s sweet. “And I know I can’t necessarily make up for that now, but I’d like to try.”
Mick looks a little alarmed by that - not the offer, just the fact this conversation seems to have slipped into ‘let’s talk about our feelings’. Jax sees the look, and grins.
“Relax, Mick, I’m not going to make you talk about anything you don’t want to, I just want to help you figure out where Cold the Friendly Ghost is coming from. We don’t know what’s up in your head, and I think we should find out. It’s the least I can do.”
Mick looks - rather pleased by that. He wraps an arm around Jax’s shoulders and steers them in a new direction down the corridor.
“Come on, kid. Let’s go blow some more things up.”
There’s a close-up of Jax’s delighted face, and then...
CUT TO: EXT: RAINBOW WARRIOR DOCK
Eobard Thawne is holding the non-spear part of the flagpole, and looking particularly annoyed. Behind him, Malcolm Merlyn is leaning on the wall looking smug, with Damien Darkh at his shoulder. Opposite Eobard is a harassed-looking Rip Hunter, bags under his eyes.
“And they beat us here!” Thawne says, plainly at the conclusion of a longer speech. “You’re not exactly proving useful, Hunter.”
Rip presses his hands to his temples.
“There’s plenty more I am capable of doing,” he says. “It may be time for me to pull out the ‘big guns’.”
Merlyn stands up a little straighter, looking intrigued.
“And what, exactly, does that mean?” inquires Darkh, eyes intent on Rip.
“The major weakness in my former team in their loyalty to one another and their absurd sentimentality,” he says. Darkh inclines his head, somewhere between agreement and a ‘go on’.
“You want to exploit that?” asks Thawne.
“I do,” says Rip, grinning, “and I have just the candidate in mind to help us do it.”