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Go Away, Dad

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It was rare for the Legends to meet a time traveller that wasn’t one of them or trying to kill them, so meeting a man who called himself Booster Gold that seemed friendly was suspicious. Everyone grew even more suspicious when they saw the deer-in-headlights look on Rip’s face when he saw the guy for the first time, clearly indicating he knew the gold-clad man personally and should not be meeting him yet.


“So, you’re the Legends I’ve heard about, huh?” Booster Gold commented, leaning against a nearby vertical surface with his arms crossed over his chest. “Rip Hunter, a rogue Time Master; Dr. Ray Palmer, biollionare shrinking vigilante; Sara Lance, League of Assassins success story; Amaya Jiwe, a member of the JSA; Dr. Nate Heywood, the grandson of a member of the JSA; Jefferson Jackson and Dr. Martin Stein, a nuclear powerhouse; and Mick Rory, a pyromaniac thief. Hell of a bunch, aren’t you?” he mused, sizing each one up individually.


“How do you know who we are?” Nate asked with a concerned frown, crossing his own arms over his chest.


“Well, Dr. Heywood, I’m something of a time traveller myself,” Booster Gold answered. “I heard about all of you Legends from my own travels, and from my friends in the 21st century.”


“You say that like you aren’t from the 21st century,” Amaya noted. “Are you from the 20th century like I am?”


“Nope. 25Th,” Booster Gold shook his head. “I’m from the future. Further in the future than Captain Hunter over there, at that.”


“No you aren’t,” Rip muttered to himself, almost too quietly for anyone to hear that wasn’t standing right next to him (so just Sara and Nate heard him). At least, that’s what he thought, until he saw Booster Gold’s eyebrow quirk upwards curiously a tiny smile tugging at his lips.


“Do you know something I don’t, Captain?” Booster Gold pressed, curious. There was something oddly familiar about Rip, but he couldn’t place why.


“We can talk somewhere else. Not in front of my team,” Rip sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in resignation. Without another word, he headed towards the Waverider. Booster Gold followed him, wanting to know more and knowing he’d learn more if he didn’t do anything stupid.


Booster Gold watched in awe as the Waverider shimmered into view, the cloaking falling away with some sort of signal from Rip.


“Cool ship,” Booster Gold commented as they boarded, following Rip to the parlour where he immediately grabbed some booze and poured himself a glass.


“What are you doing here?” Rip asked with a heavy sigh, downing half the glass in one go.


“It’s 2018, I’ve visiting a friend,” Booster Gold shrugged, wondering why Rip seemed to... odd.


“Ted’s more than a friend, we both know that,” Rip muttered to himself before looking up at Booster Gold. “I meant mingling with my team. You’re a time traveller. You know how finicky these things can be. If you know who we are, you should know why you can’t do that.”


“How do you know about Ted?” Booster Gold asked, frowning. “And what do you mean? I don’t know much about your team, all things consdiered. Why can’t I mingle with fellow time travellers?”


“I’m going to have to spell it out for you, aren’t I?” Rip grumbled, downing the rest of his drink. “You, Michael Carter, and Theodore Kord are vital to the very existence of this team, and if we do anything to sway either of you from your course of actions, this team may never exist, as I would never have the Waverider because I wouldn’t exist.”


“Wait... Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Captain Hunter?” Michael blinked in realization, eyes wide.


“Yes, Mr. Carter. I am,” Rip admitted, pouring himself another drink and downing half of it immeditely. “Now, get off my ship before you do something stupid to jeopardize everything.”


“Fine, fine,” Michael conceded, putting his hands up in surrender. “Until we meet again, son.”