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The Hurricane

Summary:

A single flap of a butterfly's wings can cause hurricanes.

Laurel Lance opts to take a humanitarian course during her gap year between undergrad and law school to pad out her college resume. She's assigned to a project in China and accepts Robert Queen's offer to travel with him on the Queen's Gambit to save on air fare. She bids a farewell to her boyfriend, Robert's son Oliver, with a promise to discuss the possibility of moving in together when she returns.

She doesn't. Not for another five years.

(Or where it is Laurel, and Laurel alone, that goes on the Gambit.

It changes everything.)

Notes:

Note (3/17/2023): This fic now has a TV Tropes page! Here is the link.
Note (7/27/2023): If you got a chapter notice about this story being on Indefinite Hiatus, please ignore it. I accidentally posted that chapter in this story, when it's really for moral of the story.

Chapter 1: The Queen's Gambit

Summary:

Dinah Laurel Lance bids farewell to her loved ones before boarding the Queen's Gambit.

Notes:

Pre-Chapter Note: Well, here's the baby that's been tormenting for the last three or so months. I've spent weeks plotting this out with the Lauriver Discord once I realized it wasn't going to leave my head, and thus far I've gotten all five years of Laurel's time away from Starling planned out, along with two-thirds of the first season of this AU. The current plan is that this goes up to the equivalent of Arrow S3, with no plans beyond that. Let's just say the later villains won't be an issue thanks to various changes made; you'll find out as we go.

This story came about because of another potential story that Arlyss and I planned several months to a year ago (it's hard to tell — Arlyss and I planned out a lot of stories never made it off the drawing board). It's something of a role reversal AU where it's Laurel that was on the Gambit instead of Oliver and Sara. So essentially, instead of Oliver's journey to becoming the Hood/GA, the next five years become Laurel's journey to becoming BC.

I've kept that original premise, but made several changes to the elements that were planned in Arlyss's version to suit my tastes. One of those changes is that Oliver is not becoming Green Arrow — I talked it over with the Lauriver Discord, and we agreed that Arrowverse Ollie wouldn't have the drive to become GA without the island. However, Oliver will still play a major role in Laurel's life as a vigilante (and not just because he's her main love interest), just different from what he played in canon. And just to make it clear, while Oliver won't be GA, that doesn't mean there won't be a GA. I already know who the Green Arrow is going to be in this AU, and while I'm not gonna say who it is, I'm sure you guys will figure it out as the story goes on.

I've already gotten the first three years written out in full. I'm going to post the first two chapters for all of you and then do a weekly post every Friday from here on out (which means you get a third chapter on Friday). They've already been betaed for flow, so all that's left is a grammar check I'll be conducting before posting.

Many thanks to Ray_Writes for betaing, Arlyss for letting me use and modify the premise, and the rest of the Lauriver Discord for helping me plan this out. I hope you'll enjoy the ride!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"Are you sure about this?"

Laurel Lance shot her boyfriend an amused look. "It's your boat, Ollie."

Oliver Queen shook his head, smiling back. "It's my dad's boat. And I'm not doubting the Gambit's workmanship. This baby has sailed through some crazy storms." And here, his face twisted into some cross between skepticism and disbelief. "It's just — China? That's a bit far for a project assigned by a college humanitarian course, don't you think?"

His girlfriend shrugged. "I drew the short straw," Laurel claimed. "And either way, it's going to be fun. I've never had the chance to visit a foreign country before."

"I just wish I could come with you. But after I got kicked out from my last college, Mom is putting me on a tighter leash." Oliver sighed. "Maybe I could've convinced her to let me go if I pushed her a little bit more, but…"

Laurel put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'll take lots of pictures," she promised.

That got her a smile. "Laurel," her boyfriend started, "about us moving in together…"

"We'll discuss it when I get back. The class took up so much of my time that I really didn't get the chance to look at any apartments." Laurel's face lit up. "But maybe that's a good thing — we can go look for one together instead. Find something that fits both our tastes."

Oliver nodded noncommittally at that, which Laurel took as a 'yes'. Pleased, she then began rummaging through her handbag and took something out: a small photo, one with a picture of herself. "For you," she told Oliver, handing the photo over. "So you'll know I'll always be with you."

A genuine smile crossed Oliver's face, and he gave the photo an affectionate kiss, before taking out his wallet and sliding it inside. Then, he opened up his jacket and took something out of one of the pockets inside. "I got you something too," he told her, producing a necklace. It was a small golden medallion of some sort with an emblem of a bird on it, hanging from a black-threaded band.

Laurel gazed at it carefully, and allowed Oliver to tie it around her neck. "What kind of bird is it?"

"A canary."

Oliver allowed a sly grin to cross his face as Laurel playfully pushed him in response. Of course he'd get her a necklace with the annoying pet bird her parents got Sara that ended up driving their family nuts. Before they knew it, they were both laughing, and as their laughter subsided, they were staring deep into each other's eyes.

Like always, they found themselves kissing before they even knew it, deep and with enough passion to always leave them both a little weak-kneed. It was only the sound of Robert Queen, Oliver's father, audibly clearing his throat, that caused them to break out of the embrace. "We're ready to disembark," he told them.

Reluctantly, the couple parted, with Laurel giving Oliver one final kiss on the cheek. She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and rolled it up the gangway, pausing to give Moira Queen, Oliver's mother, who was standing in another part of the docks to see them off, one last wave. Her own family had been unable to make it: Sara was away at college, while their mother had opted to drop her off at the pier before heading to work. Their father had at least intended to be here for her in their place, but had been called away to a scene this morning and couldn't make it.

"I'll take care of her while we're gone," Robert promised his son as they exchanged a final hug.

"I will hold you to that," Oliver responded jokingly.

The businessman smiled and clasped his hand on his son's shoulder affectionately, before following Laurel up the gangway. With its captain onboard, the plank was eventually removed, as the ship prepared to set sail. Before the hour was over, the Queen's Gambit was officially at sea.


A few days later…

Oliver, in an exercise of masochism and frustration, was scrolling through some of the apartment listings in Starling. Thanks to his trust fund Laurel and him could afford a much nicer place than a young couple normally would, but knowing his girlfriend she would want somewhere where she could equally chip in and didn't have to rely on her boyfriend's inheritance money. Laurel had always been fiercely independent like that, something that both aroused him and terrified him in equal measure.

Finally, after one too many beds and baths, he shut the computer down with a groan and took out his wallet, fingering the picture inside. Oliver loved Laurel, he truly did. There wasn't a day that went by where he wondered how someone so smart and talented and good ended up with a screw-up like him. She already had her entire life planned out, single-minded in her goals, and somehow all of that included him.

But as much Oliver truly wanted to make her happy, he didn't know how to fit into her plans like that. How to just… play along. The reality was that he just wasn't ready to be the adult and settle down like she was. He was young, he had money, there was plenty enough time for him to have fun. For them to have fun. We're twenty-one, for pete's sake. She's barely gotten out of college, high school was only four years ago, he griped. Why is she so eager to grow up?

How was Oliver supposed to tell her he wasn't ready to grow up like she was? Laurel was so eager and excited when she first suggested they move in together, so much so that Oliver didn't have the heart to refute otherwise. It was something for the future, he thought, except the future was here now and time was closing in for him to figure some way out of it. Laurel would be back in three weeks, and she fully expected them to start searching for apartments together. Oliver needed to figure out a way to stop it.

You could just cheat on her again, an insidious voice suggested in his ear, one that Oliver tried to ignore and failed more often than he liked. Some part of his heart clenched at the idea of cheating on Laurel again and hurting her like that. All the previous times, he had been drunk and had told Laurel immediately. It had caused a few breaks in their relationship, but she always forgave him and took him back. All the more proof that he didn't deserve her.

But cheating on her sober? Doing so in his own right mind? That was another level, and he wasn't sure if he should do it. She might not take him back this time, and he could just imagine how furious her dad would be when he found out — Oliver still remembered the shotgun Detective Lance had threatened him with when Laurel and him first started dating. He doubted being the eldest son of the richest family in the city would stop Quentin from putting a bullet between his eyes if he hurt Laurel like that.

And yet, the idea wouldn't leave his mind. Cheating on Laurel would definitely get her to back off for a bit. Give him some breathing room. She might ask for another break, but she would forgive him like she always did. And when she did, Oliver was sure he'd be ready to grow up like she wanted him to. Then they could move in together. His heart clenched liked it always did whenever he thought of doing something that might hurt Laurel, but he pushed it aside. He couldn't outright tell her he wasn't ready, so he had to do this to make her understand.

"Oliver!"

Oliver flinched as his door suddenly burst open, at his name being shouted. For a moment, he had thought Laurel had somehow read his mind from a thousand miles away and had turned the boat around to rip him a new one, but eventually reality settled in. It was just his mom.

He turned around to look at her, only to pause. Her face was red, and there were tear tracks running down her eyes. It looked like she had been crying.

"Mom? Is something wrong?"

Moira swallowed.


A bored Sara Lance idly flipped through television channels while lounging on her family's couch. With her older sister off to China for three weeks, her parents had gotten empty nest syndrome and had asked their younger daughter to come visit them for the weekend. Sara, not wanting her parents to cotton on to the fact that she had been skiving off her college classes, had complied with the request, and had immediately regretted it. With Ollie trying to play 'faithful' to Laurel (Sara had rolled her eyes at the excuse and was counting down the days until he broke and cheated on her sister again not that she wasn't around to mind him) and Tommy stuck on that out-of-town business trip with his dad, there was no one for her to hangout with while she was home.

Maybe I should call up one of the girls from the old squad, Sara thought, referring to her old cheerleading squad at Berlanti Prep. They should be up for some partying later tonight.

"Sara?" Her father called out to her, popping his head out of the kitchen. "You think you can set the table for tonight?"

Sara groaned and flopped the remote onto the couch, turning her head around so she could address Quentin directly. "Do I have to? That's usually Laurel's job."

"Laurel's not here right now, honey," Quentin gently reminded her. "That means someone else has to do it."

That only caused Sara to groan louder. Nonetheless, she got off her comfortable position on the couch and onto her feet and trudged her way to the small cabinet where they stored the clean plates and cutlery. Even when she was gone, Sara's sister still managed to find a way irritate her. It would be just like Laurel to be so overly-responsible that their parents would take it for granted that Sara needed to be the same.

She took out the mats first before picking up a stack of plates and setting them down one the table. Once Sara was done straightening out the settings, she began putting down the plates one-by-one. She was in the process of setting down the last plate when something on the television caught her eye.

"…reports are coming in that the Queen's Gambit, the luxury yacht of local billionaire Robert Queen, has gone missing while in the midst of a Category-2 storm in the North China Sea…"

The plate shattered onto the ground as a stupefied Sara stared at the television in horror.


In the North China Sea…

Cold, wet, and bleary-eyed, Laurel was suddenly jolted awake as the life raft Robert, his bodyguard Dave Hackett, and her were sailing in was rocked by a particularly bad jump of waves. She instinctively snuggled into the arms of Robert, who had been holding her close ever since he had managed to grab her hand and save her from what would've been a certain drowning after the Gambit had suddenly toppled and sank. Even now, she could still remember the rush of water and the cold darkness before she was pulled away and into the rocky storm.

A part of her still couldn't believe this had happened. The Gambit had sailed through worst storms before and Robert and his crew were all experienced seamen. Oliver and his family had used this yacht numerous times for their own vacations over the years. So why was it when Laurel had accepted Robert's offer to sail with him and save on airfare to China, the yacht capsized and left them floating in the middle of nowhere? It almost felt like a bad dream, one that she was still waiting to wake up from even though she knew she never would.

Hours or maybe even days passed before the storm finally subsided. Laurel, depressed and lost, leaned onto Robert and tried to rest, tried not to think of how far away she was from home or whether or not she'd ever see any of her loved ones ever again. It just hurt too much to even consider it, that these may very well be her last days.

"Laurel… Laurel!" Robert loudly whispered into her ear. Laurel blinked and weakly gazed up at him.

"Mr. Queen?"

"I'm sorry, Laurel," the man apologized. "You should've never been caught up in this."

What? What did he mean by that? "Mr. Queen…?"

"Robert, Laurel," her boyfriend's father corrected, apparently having abruptly decided their current situation meant that the old proprieties no longer mattered. "The truth is, I didn't build our city. I failed it. And this, all of this, what happened to the Gambit, was the result of that."

Laurel felt some version of muted shock upon hearing that, but couldn't really find the energy to react. Did he mean the Gambit had been sabotaged? But why? And did it even really matter in the end, when it was likely they weren't going to live for much longer?

With that dark thought in her mind, Laurel pulled away and settled her head across the side of the life raft. "Just rest, Robert."

But before she could even slip into the waiting darkness of sleep, she was jolted awake once more, this time by the sound of a gunshot. Laurel turned her head just in time to see Dave Hackett stumbled backwards into the waiting waters with a bullet in his chest, Robert's arm still stretched outward with the gun in his hand. She scrambled backwards, surprised and afraid. "Mr. Queen?"

Robert turned to her, and she flinched under his gaze. But instead of turning the gun on her, he reached into the sleeves of his jacket and took something out: a book. He held it out to Laurel with his other hand, a pleading expression, and after a moment, Laurel hesitantly took it.

"That will help you understand one day," the billionaire said, smiling sadly. "Tell my wife and children that I love them."

It took a moment for Laurel to register what was happening, but when Robert lifted the gun to his head, her eyes widened in shock and horror. "NO, ROBERT, NO—!"

"Survive."

Bang.

Notes:

Robert told Laurel more than he did Oliver in this AU because of his different relationship with her. He feels guiltier that Laurel was caught up in this, as while he might feel it's Oliver's duty to correct his wrongs since Oliver is his son, Laurel is a complete innocent who should've never been caught up in this at all.

At the same time, however, because Laurel is not his child, Robert is less attached to the idea of keeping his good reputation in her eyes. In addition, since they aren't as close, he feels like he needs to explain himself more to her, whereas he feels Oliver should understand his desires instinctively.

Next chapter: We get Laurel on Lian Yu, along with everyone trying to cope with Robert and Laurel's "deaths".

Chapter 2: Lian Yu

Summary:

Laurel arrives on Lian Yu. Meanwhile, back in Starling, everyone finds their own way of processing their grief.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Laurel didn't know how long she screamed after Robert killed himself. It could've been minutes, or hours. All that she knew was that by the time she was done, her voice had grown hoarse and his body cold. She couldn't bear to look at his destroyed visage anymore, so she quickly found a loose cloth and covered his face with it, setting the body aside, somewhere far away from her.

It was just her now. Alone, adrift at sea. Once she could find it in herself to actually think without descending into terrible, earth-shaking sobs, she found the supplies and counted them up, knowing that she had to ration them carefully until… until she either found land or was rescued. Or died. Whichever came first.

Survive. That was Robert's last request. He had killed himself and Dave so she could live. Her. Laurel had no idea what could have possessed him to do that, but she owed it to him at least try, so his sacrifice wouldn't be in vain.

The days passed. By the time land came into view, Laurel was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. But the sight of land invigorated her, if only slightly. Once she was at the island, she could find water and food. And then all she had to do was just wait until some nearby ship passed by and signaled them. She would be rescued, and then she'd be home.

She didn't have anything to push the life raft towards the island. No oars or motors. So all Laurel could do was wait and hope the tides and wind guided her directly to the beach. Luckily, they did, as she found out one morning after another fitful night of sleep.

When Laurel found the life raft properly beached, she stumbled out of it and onto the beach, grasping at the sand in relief. She wasn't going to die. At least, not yet. There was still a chance she would make it home and see her family and Ollie—

Laurel stilled, and turned back to the life raft, where Robert's body was still waiting. When she saw the seagulls beginning to descend upon the corpse, she stiffened. "Hey!" she shouted, finding some kind of inner strength in her to rush over. "Get away from him!"

Scaring the seagulls away, she gazed down at the body, before she steeled herself and snaked her arm around Robert's stiff neck. She couldn't protect his body from the birds all the time, and it's highly unlikely it would ever make it back to Starling. Which meant she needed to make him a proper resting place herself. It was the least she could do, for everything he'd done for her.

It took a minute for her to find a suitable spot. She didn't have a shovel, so it wasn't like she could bury him in the nearby forest. But there was a rocky hill far enough inside with a lot of stones that could work in lieu of dirt. With all her strength, Laurel dragged Robert's body away from the life raft and to the spot she had chosen, and began painstakingly covering him with the stones she found, from head to toe. Once he was completely covered up, she found a stick and some hardwood and scratched his name on it, before settling it at the head of the makeshift grave.

When she was finally done with her task, Laurel stared at the grave for a long while, as she slowly began to tear up again. Already she could feel the well of desperation and despair crawling up her chest and into her throat. God, she had just buried her boyfriend's father. A man she had known since she herself was a child. How was she supposed to tell Ollie? Or Thea or Mrs. Queen? Especially when it was because of her that Robert chose to kill himself?

Would she ever get the chance to?

Before Laurel could even begin to comprehend the weight of her situation, pain bloomed in her shoulder. She gazed down to see an arrow there, piercing right through her skin, and looked up, catching a glint of green. A man?

The pain was too much. She passed out.


Starling City

Moira Queen, feeling every single year of her age, sighed as she entered the SCPD's drunk tank, guided by what looked like an equally resigned beat cop. She was far more familiar with this place than she'd like, especially in recent weeks, and would rather be anywhere else. Like at her home, where she could curl into the old comforts and memories of Robert and pretend he was still there instead of somewhere at the bottom of the sea, murdered by his best friend.

But the police had called and she had answered, if only because she had no desire for her only son to spend his day at a rank, disgusting place like this. Some would say that Moira should be harder on Oliver, that she shouldn't let his increasingly outrageous behavior get more out of hand. She agreed. But—it was hard to find the heart to do it. After all, Oliver was suffering far more than her.

It was almost routine, checking Oliver out. Before she knew it, she had her son stumbling into her arms, unkempt and hangover-induced, but undoubtedly cognizant. Moira gripped Oliver's wrist tightly as she all but dragged him out of the building and towards the front of the police station, where their car and its driver were waiting for them. The man needed no prompting and opened the door to the backseat automatically; Moira guided Oliver inside first before smoothly sliding in herself, ignoring the flashing lights of paparazzi throughout the entire exchange.

Within seconds after their seatbelts were put on, they were guided out of the throng of photographers and back onto Starling's streets. Once the silence settled in, Moira deigned to take a look at her son, who was doing his best to sightsee out the window in return. Understandably, Oliver seemed determined to look at anything but her.

"Oliver."

Oliver didn't answer. Or move.

Moira sighed. "Oliver, honey, please. We need to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about. I got drunk, and then arrested. You picked me up. That's all there is to it."

"For the third time this week," the Queen matriarch pointed out, a little stern and fed up with her son's attitude. He had been caustic like this for weeks, ever since the news about the Gambit had broke. She had let it slide, because he was careful to never direct his anger towards Thea or any of the house staff, but… "Oliver, this can't go on."

"I'm an adult, Mom. You can't control what I do, and Dad left me more than enough money to live independently if I want." Which meant she couldn't even threaten to cut him off to make him behave.

"Sweetheart, your father wouldn't want this." A pause, and then Moira decided to take a gamble. "Laurel wouldn't want this either."

There was a beat, and then finally her son bothered to look at her. His eyes were red, glassy and shiny. It wasn't just from the alcohol, she knew.

"Both of them are gone," he said coldly. "It doesn't matter what they would've wanted."

"Oliver—"

"Let's just go home."

There was a finality in his voice that brokered no argument. Moira fell silent, and didn't push any further.


When Dinah Lance trudged inside her home, baggy-eyed and carrying far too many papers to grade, the last things she wanted to be faced with was a family argument. Unfortunately, the universe had proven a few weeks ago that it didn't care about what Dinah wanted, so that was what she was faced with when she arrived to her house. Right in the middle of the living room were Sara and Quentin, face-to-face and in another horrendous screaming match.

"How long has this been going on, huh?" Quentin demanded, waving some kind of piece of paper in his hand. His eyes were bloodshot, no doubt from another night of heavy drinking. Dinah had long since thrown out their own stores of alcohol once it became clear Quentin wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon, but that didn't preclude him from buying more anyway.

"I told you not to go through my stuff!" Sara screeched back, hair frazzled and her own eyes red. That was another reason to get rid of the alcohol — Quentin wasn't the only one spending their nights getting drunk, though Sara seemed to be finding her fix anyway at the clubs she had been going to every night and with boys she barely knew.

Quentin ignored his daughter's tantrum and continued reaming her a new one. "You've been skipping classes at school for months and keeping it a secret from your mother and I! You lost any right to complain once we learned you were wasting the college fund we set aside for your education!"

"Well, maybe if you paid attention to me more often, you could've figured out what I was doing!"

"Don't you dare try to deflect the blame, young lady! Your sister would've never done something like this—"

The detective was cut off from the barked, bitter laughter of his youngest and now-only daughter. "Of course she wouldn't have. She was perfect like that. Well guess what, Dad, I'm not her, and I'm sorry I'm the daughter you got stuck with." With that, Sara snatched the paper from her father's hand and stormed away, leaving her shocked parents behind.


Lian Yu

I killed something.

That was the only thought going through Laurel's mind as she mindlessly picked at the chicken Yao Fei had cooked for her. She had snapped this chicken's neck with her own two hands, too hungry and desperate for food. Finally, the man had bothered to talk to her in English, and said the words that even now were haunting her. You want survive this place, bird not last thing you kill.

Survive. The last thing Robert had told her before he put a bullet in his skull. And according to Yao Fei, the only way she could survive this place — Lian Yu, Purgatory, whatever — was by being willing to kill.

Laurel had never killed before, nor had she ever wanted to. She never had that kind of malice inside her. Sure, she had wanted to become a police officer at one point in her life, and that included the possibility of having to kill someone someday to protect someone else, but back then the idea of doing that had been abstract. Distant. She had never expected to really do it, and then her father had laid down the law and told her no, she wasn't going to the police academy, and she thought she never would. Instead, she turned her dreams into becoming a lawyer and using the law to help people that way.

And yet now, here she was. On an island in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but the clothes on her back and this chicken she was eating. With only some crazy guy in a hood with a bow and arrows as her only ally. A man who was telling her there was something or someone dangerous enough on the island that she would have to kill to survive.

It was just so absurd that Laurel was almost tempted to laugh. Instead, she fingered the necklace around her neck, the one that Oliver had given her before she went on that godforsaken boat. Just days or weeks ago, they had been discussing moving in together, dreaming about their future. And now, she might never see him again.

God, just the thought of it made her want to cry again. And then she saw the canary and thought of her family, and felt the tears well up. She did her best to hold them back — she didn't think Yao Fei would appreciate hearing her sob again.

"What is that?"

Laurel blinked, and looked up. Yao Fei was gazing down at her hands, specifically at the medallion. The young woman swallowed. "It's a necklace my boyfriend gave me," she explained. "It was supposed to be a memento of him and my family, to help me remember them while I was away in China."

Yao Fei hummed. "Forget them too," he ordered. "Only way to survive."

That only caused Laurel to bite her lip instead. It took everything she had not to break down then and there.


"Now, I'm going to ask you again: do you know anything about this man?"

Laurel closed her eyes, preparing herself for the pain, and shook her head. A moment later, she found herself jabbed once more with the stun baton, electricity running through her as she grit her teeth. It seemed like forever before it finally ended and relief came, but she didn't allow herself to let her guard down. She knew it was just a brief reprieve until they started asking more questions she refused to answer and began torturing her again.

It had been just a few days since she arrived on Lian Yu and met Yao Fei. This morning, while he had been out hunting for their breakfast, Laurel had been nabbed by a bunch of unknown men. She was taken to a tent where she was introduced to a man named Edward Fyers and his associate, Wintergreen. Before she even had a chance to really comprehend what was going on, she was strung up by her wrists and slowly tortured by the masked man as Fyers demanded she tell him everything she knew about Yao Fei.

Laurel refused to budge. She had lost much ever since the Gambit went down, but not all of her principles. Yao Fei had helped her when he had no reason to, imparting important advice and even helping her get food. It would be poor form to betray him now, even in the face of torture like this.

But then, Fyers suddenly stopped. There was a spark in his eye, one Laurel didn't like. "You're stronger than you look," he complimented; the woman tried not to roil away in disgust. She had a feeling that would've just gotten her another bad shock. "It's obvious that conventional torture isn't going to work with you, so how about this — either you tell me what you know, or I'll let my men have some 'fun' with you."

Something in Laurel went cold. "W-What?"

The mercenary shrugged. "What can I say? They've been stuck on this island for the past two years, not a woman in sight. They're in desperate need of some stress relief, and even all muddied up like this, you're a beautiful little thing. Once you're a bit cleaned up, I doubt a single one of them will have anything to complain."

Laurel was spitting in his face before she even realized what she was doing, lips twisted in snarl. She was not some toy for him to pass around! "Fuck you!"

However, it was soon proven to be a mistake. Fyers had reeled away from her spit, quickly wiping it off with the sleeve of his shirt. When he looked at her, the amusement was gone. Instead, there was a downright predatory expression on his face, one that made Laurel's stomach curl.

"You know what? I'll think I'll have you myself first," he declared.

Laurel tensed upon hearing that and prepared to fight him off as much as she could when he began to reach out for her, but then help arrived. She let out a sob of relief as Yao Fei suddenly appeared and attacked her two captors. He knocked away Fyers and had a small duel with Wintergreen, before managing to knock him away too. He cut Laurel down, carefully wrapping his arm around her as they rushed out of the tent.

"Thank you, thank you," she babbled to him as they fled. "They tortured me, but I refused to say a word, so he was planning to-to…" It was too horrible to even think about.

Yao Fei's face turned grim upon hearing that. They kept fleeing and fleeing, but the sounds of the approaching men meant they didn't have long. Yao Fei seemed to realize that too, because he suddenly stopped and helped her lean against a tree. "Can you run?" he asked.

Laurel stumbled a bit, but while she was still in a bit of pain her legs were still working and she felt like she could keep running forever. The adrenaline, most likely. "I can."

He eyed her for a bit, but seemed to be satisfied, and took something out — a map. "Go to place I marked here — there should be abandoned plane. Help will be waiting there," the archer revealed.

A blink. "What?" Laurel asked. "Aren't you—" She was cut off by more shouting and the sounds of running.

"Go!" Yao Fei ordered. "I'll lead them away!"

Laurel still looked reluctant. She didn't want to leave her only ally — friend — alone. But the sounds were getting louder and it was clear Yao Fei wasn't going to budge. So she turned towards another direction and ran, and tried not to feel like too much of a coward.


Starling City

Sara's head was spinning. What was going on? The last thing she remembered was getting kicked out of the club and stumbling back to her car. She got behind the wheel and then…

Oh.

No wonder the red and blue lights were familiar. They were police cruisers. Seconds later, the door to Sara's own car was wrenched open, and she found herself dragged out of the vehicle and into waiting cuffs. She looked around to see if she recognized any of the officers, but it was dark and her eyes weren't the best after a night of hard drinking. Then she was roughly dumped into the back of a cruiser, and it didn't seem to matter at all.

A freaking DUI. Wonderful.

Dad's gonna kill me.


"Do you have any idea how lucky you are right now?" Quentin growled as Sara followed him into their home. Dinah was already waiting for them in the living room, looking every bit as disappointed as her husband. "I had to pull so many strings to get you off, and that's only because you didn't harm anyone but the car and yourself! If you had killed anyone, you would be in jail right now, waiting to be arraigned for your next court date!"

Sara rolled her eyes. "But I didn't, Dad. And I've learned my lesson. Next time I go out, I'll make sure to get a taxi or something when I leave."

"Oh no, Sara. You are not getting off that easily," the father announced, hands on his hips. "No more going out or drinking. You're grounded until we can be sure you can act responsibly."

Naturally, this didn't sit well with the younger Lance. "You can't ground me!" she declared, incensed. "I'm twenty years old! I'm an adult! Besides, aren't you being a hypocrite, Dad? You've been downing around three bottles of scotch a night ever since Laurel died!"

Both of the Lance parents flinched at the reminder of their eldest daughter's death, and Dinah decided it was time for her to get involved. As much as she loved her daughter, even she couldn't stand her lashing out at them like this. "Sara, at least your father is limiting his drinking to his off hours and isn't letting it affect his work. You, however, have been out of control for weeks. And what happened last night—you could've gotten someone else killed honey. Or… or yourself." It was clear Dinah couldn't bear the thought of losing her remaining daughter.

And just like that, something in Sara snapped.

"Well, it's too bad I didn't!" she screeched, to her parent's shock and horror.

"Honey—"

"I was always such a bitch to Laurel. I hated her so much at times. She always so perfect, so smart and good that everyone always expected me to be just like her," Sara ranted, tears streaming down her eyes. "She got everything. She got Ollie. And I thought I could have Ollie too while she was away. Everyone except her knew he wasn't ready to move in with her yet, that he wasn't ready to grow up. And when he's like that, he cheats, and I though I could convince him to cheat with me. I could finally have him to myself, if only for a little bit. I was so happy that she was going away."

"And now she's gone for good and me, the bitch that was thinking of sleeping with her sister's boyfriend just to hurt her, is still here instead." She buried her face into her hands. "It should've been me who died instead."

With those final words, Sara collapsed onto her knees, sobbing. Her parents rushed forward to catch her, and as she was in their arms, looked at each other helplessly.

Notes:

By the looks of things, the chapters are going to be in the 3k to 4k range for this story, which is fine. Truth be told, I'm mostly searching for natural stopping places for the chapters. Length doesn't really matter to me, as long as it passes a certain threshold.

As for the story itself, everyone's having a bad time. Laurel is coping with the guilt of Robert's death, the despair at the possibility she might never make it home, and the terror of landing in a place like Lian Yu. Especially after her first encounter with Fyers; while I can confirm now that Laurel isn't going to suffer any sexual assault, I will say people will be threatening her with it. It's implied, after all, Sara faced some form of sexual assault on the island (mostly in regards to her relationship with Ivo), and most of the men Laurel is going to deal with on Lian Yu are violent people with very little morals, who, as Fyers notes, haven't had the company of beautiful women for several years. It's just not realistic for her not face that threat as well.

It's also for that reason that Yao Fei opted to send her to Slade much sooner than he did with Oliver. Laurel suffered a little bit less torture because Fyers knew he could make that threat, meaning she was still able to move, enough to conceivably make it to Slade before her injuries caught up to her. Sending her to Slade also means she's under another person's protection and reassure her that none of Fyers's men will get to her to carry out his threat.

Back in Starling, everyone is grieving. Oliver is getting the double dose of losing both his father, and Laurel, while the Lances, especially Sara, are beginning to realize how much they took Laurel for granted. And that culminates in Sara's DUI and subsequent rant, where she reveals how much guilt she feels that she's the one alive while Laurel, who she views as a much better person than her, is the one who "died".

Quick warning, Laurel's first year on the island is going to be very similar to Oliver's. It isn't until the second year that things seriously begin to go off the rails and we begin to see how much Laurel being the one who "died" changes things.

Next Chapter: Laurel meets a certain Australian intelligence agent.

Chapter 3: Slade Wilson

Summary:

Laurel meets Slade Wilson, while Oliver has another night out on the town with Tommy and Sara deals with the aftermath of her breakdown.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Come on, Ollie!" Tommy threw an arm around his best friend and guided him away from the bar. His cheeks were red, flushed with heavy inebriation. "Some lovely ladies are waiting for us on the dance floor."

"Tommy…" Oliver trailed off. The two of them had been hitting up every club in the city for weeks now. Ever since Tommy had gotten back to Starling from that business trip his dad and him had been on and they had finally gotten word about the Gambit, in fact. The deaths of the man Tommy had always viewed as his true father and one of his three closest friends had hit him almost just as hard as it hit Oliver. He had been more than willing to joining his best friend in the debauchery to help distract them from their grief.

Most of that debauchery, however, involved a lot of drinking and weed. Oliver couldn't really find it in himself to flirt or dance with any other woman, his mind constantly on Laurel. Meaningless sex didn't hold anywhere near the appeal it used to have. What were those brief bouts of pleasure and lingering guilt in the morning compared to being with the woman he had loved since he was sixteen? A woman who was gone, never to return? He had always enjoyed his time with Laurel, but it was only now was he beginning to realize how little he had properly appreciated those moments.

"It'll make you feel better," his best friend insisted, a bit of desperation in his eyes. Oliver knew that it wouldn't, but Tommy was already dragging him away before he could protest any further. Before the grieving man knew it, he found himself in a throng of beautiful women, all smiling and giggling at him, heavy and heady music playing around them.

Oliver, seeing no way out, tried his best attempt at the signature playboy smile and tried to get into the mood. With the alcohol in his system and the upbeat atmosphere, it wasn't hard. For those brief few minutes, he even allowed himself to forget about everything: Laurel, his father, his mother…

And then one of the girls tried to touch his chest.

His mind flashed to Laurel in that single instant, and then there was a cry of pain. Oliver blinked as his mind righted itself and he suddenly became aware of his surroundings. The dancing had suddenly stopped, even though the music was still playing. Everyone staring at either him or the girl on the floor, who was looking up at him in disbelief. Whispers were flowing from everywhere.

The bouncers came to kick them out not long after. Truth be told, Oliver couldn't find it in himself to care.


Lian Yu

Laurel winced as she leaned against a tree, feeling the burn scars and cuts that were decorating her midsection. Once she was far enough away from the camp, she had done her best to treat the wounds, but the basic first-aid training her father insisted she and her sister get could only account for so much, and she didn't have supplies besides. The best she could do in the end was make sure that she didn't push herself too hard while she tried to make it to the plane like Yao Fei ordered. It was likely her friend's life depended on it.

After what seemed like forever, she finally stumbled upon the plane wreckage Yao Fei told her about. Relief flowed through her body at the sight, and she collapsed to her knees. She tried to crawl her way inside, but her eyes grew heavy, and she knew, instinctively, that she was beginning to pass out. It seemed she had pushed herself too hard after all.

The last thing she heard before the blissful darkness claimed her was the rough sound of footsteps. And then finally, Laurel blacked out.


When Laurel came to, she found herself propped up against a wall, her arms tied around her back and her ankles tied together too. She shifted a bit as she tried to get out of her bonds and into a more comfortable position, and winced. Bandages were wrapped around her middle, and it seemed like someone had applied medicine to her wounds. A silver lining, but that didn't get rid of the sting of whatever had been applied to those burns and cuts.

"Slept well?"

She stiffened a bit at the new voice and turned her head. A man was there, tall and muscular and wearing military gear. He had a sword in his hand, one that made Laurel swallow. "Are you the help Yao Fei was talking about?" she asked in a small voice.

The man narrowed his eyes.

"My name is Laurel. Laurel Lance," she continued. "I'm a castaway. The ship I was sailing on sank and I washed up on this island on a life raft. Yao Fei saved me and helped nurse me back to help. Then Fyers captured me and tried to torture me for information on him. He saved me again and sent me here, telling me to come here for help."

"Believable story," her new captor noted. "And Fyers doesn't have any women among his people, making it highly unlikely you're a spy. But I'm still not sure if I should trust you, or if I should bother trying at all."

He crouched down so they were more eye-level, and Laurel found herself swallowing again in fear. The sword in his hand was suddenly thrust outward, and Laurel closed her eyes to prepare herself for the pain, but instead of being stabbed death, it stopped just short of her chest. She felt her necklace shifting a bit, and opened her eyes to see the tip of the blade instead playing with the medallion hanging from the strap.

"Maybe I should just kill you now," he continued. "You're a pretty little thing, and it would honestly be doing you a favor. Better a quick death than whatever Fyers and his men have waiting for you."

A flash of anger ran through Laurel, though she wasn't quite sure she was driving it. Maybe it was the built-up stress from the Gambit, maybe it was the fear that she was once again at another man's mercy, or maybe she was just sick of everyone seeing her as helpless. Whatever the case was, it gave Laurel the strength to dislocate her thumb, slip one arm out of the zip ties restraining her, and punch the man right in the face.

There wasn't much force to the blow. Laurel was reasonably fit for a young woman her age, but she was weak and malnourished and had just suffered torture. When it connected, she barely moved his head. He fell silent, however, and stopped playing with her necklace, so that was something at least.

For a moment, Laurel believed she had finally signed her death warrant.

And then the man laughed.

"You've got some fire in you!" he exclaimed, looking a bit wild and delighted. "Maybe you have it in you to survive here after all!"

Laurel frowned. "That's great to hear. Could you untie me now?"

"Sure," he said, and reached downwards for the ties around her ankles first. "The name is Slade, by the way. Slade Wilson. And you said your name is Laurel, right?"

"Yes. It's actually Dinah Laurel Lance, but I usually go by Laurel since my mom is named Dinah too."

"Right," Slade said slowly. "And you're a castaway?"

The young woman nodded.

"Well, let me tell you this now — your time here isn't going to be anything like Robinson Crusoe. Things are lot more dangerous here than that."

"Trust me," Laurel said, flashing back to her torture at Fyers and Wintergreen's hands. "I know."

He peered down at her thoughtfully. "Yeah. I guess you would, wouldn't you?"


"So you chose to sail with your boyfriend's billionaire father from home to China to save on air fare, and somehow ended up here," Slade shook his head. "That is an insane amount of bad luck."

Laurel shrugged half-heartedly, mindlessly flipping through the book Robert had given her before his death. She had kept it with her in her backpocket, and for whatever reason Fyers hadn't seen a reason to confiscate it from her. Probably because the pages were blank; the only discerning mark was a strange symbol made of criss-crossing lines embossed on the back of the front cover. She hadn't been able to recognize it, and considering it had to do with Starling, it was likely Slade or Yao Fei wouldn't either.

"You'd think a yacht belonging to one of the one percent would've been a little more high-quality," the Australian continued, probably finding some kind of amusement out of the perverse irony.

"The quality of the yacht probably wouldn't have mattered," Laurel noted, frowning down at the book. There almost looked to be writing on the pages, but she couldn't really see it. "Mr. Queen—Robert's last words indicated that it was probably sabotaged. Why, I can't say though. He was being a little confusing, and then he killed his bodyguard and then himself to make sure I survived."

That actually caused Slade to blink in surprise. "You've had a rough couple of weeks, haven't you?" He almost sounded sympathetic.

His companion glanced at him, and nodded. "And I doubt it's going to get any easier." She closed the book, and set it aside. "What about you? How'd you end up here?"

Slade leaned back, his expression hardening. "I'm an agent for the ASIS. Australian Secret Intelligence Service. My former partner, Billy Wintergreen—"

Laurel hissed, causing Slade to give her a knowing look. "I take it you've met ol' Billy?"

"He's the one who did the actual torturing while Fyers was trying to interrogate me."

A click of the teeth. "I can't say I'm surprised," Slade admitted. "Being on this island tends to bring out the worst in people."

"I can't imagine him being any kind of a good person," Laurel said in response, twirling a lock of her hair, "but then again our only interaction saw him torturing me, so I guess I can't be called an expert."

That statement received a chuckle. "Yeah, I guess so," the ASIS agent mused. Then his gaze darkened. "He was my best friend. I even made him the godfather of my son Joe. And then we were sent here on a mission to rescue Yao Fei. He's a former Chinese general whose own country deliberately shipwrecked him here."

"What? Why?" Laurel knew that national governments were not lily white, China's especially, but why shipwreck him? She had no doubt the actual intention was to kill him, and Yao Fei had survived despite the odds.

"Because they framed him for a massacre they perpetrated nine years ago. They didn't want him blowing the whistle. About a year ago, Billy and I were sent to rescue him, but our plane was shot down before we could land using the island's airstrip by Fyers and his men. That over there is the wreckage of what's left." He nodded towards the makeshift habitat he had been using.

"So how'd Wintergreen end up working for Fyers?"

"Because Fyers made us an offer when he captured us. We could either join his cause or be his prisoners. I refused, and Billy accepted." Slade spat something out to the side. "My best friend and the godfather of my son sold me out and left me to rot in that camp for over a year until Yao Fei managed to save me. And if there's anything that taught me, is that you can't trust anyone."

It was a sobering tale. Laurel didn't say anything in response, and simply looked away.


Starling City

She was always so heavy when she woke up these days. Like a lead blanket had been thrown on top of her over the night, every night, and the first thing she had to do when she opened her eyes was push it off. At least it wasn't because of a hangover this time. Sara had been starting to get sick of the headaches.

After cleaning herself up, Sara was torn between going downstairs to get something for breakfast from the kitchen, or just crawling back into bed and going to sleep. Ever since her breakdown in the wake of her almost-DUI, she had been completely listless. She honestly didn't know what to do with herself anymore. Even class wasn't an option — between her constant absences and depression in the wake of her sister's death, her parents had taken the prerogative to request a temporary leave for her for the rest of the semester. So Sara was technically home-free until the next semester started, and that was only if she chose to go back to college at all.

Most of her didn't want to. She hadn't been passing her classes, it all had been too much hard work, which is why she started skipping. Laurel would've been disappointed if she knew, but Laurel wasn't here anymore, was she? And if she had known what Sara had been planning to do while she was gone, she would've been disappointed anyway.

Eventually, her stomach decided for her. Sara trudged down the stairs, still dressed in her sleeping clothes, her hair in slight disarray. She ignored her parents sitting at the dining table and headed directly for the pantry, taking out a bowl for cereal and some cornflakes, before heading to the fridge get some milk. Behind her, Quentin and Dinah exchanged a worried look.

"Sara," Dinah started, speaking carefully. "When you're done, your father and I would like to talk to you. Is that alright?"

Honestly, it wasn't. But they'd tried wearing her down if she said no, and Sara didn't have the energy to deal with that today. So she swallowed her latest scoop of cereal and nodded, and tried to ignore the relief she saw on both of her parents' faces.


Once breakfast was over, her parents guided her to the living room and sat Sara down in one of the love seats, while they took the couch. They angled their bodies so they were facing her, clasping each other's hands. It was a bit of surprise to see; Sara knew her parents were having their own issues over the past several weeks, ever since the shipwreck. Her father's drinking had ensure she wasn't the only one that was being difficult. What had prompted their reconciliation?

"Honey, your mother and I have been talking for the past couple of days," her father started, swallowing slightly. "And we both agree that you have been dealing with a lot, and it's been causing you to act out for these past several weeks." Ever since Laurel's death, was what went unsaid.

"So we were thinking that you should consider the idea of therapy," Dinah continued, speaking carefully.

Therapy? Sara was aghast. They're kidding, right? "No way," she said, lip curling in anger. "I don't need a shrink. I'm not crazy."

Quentin shook his head. "We're not saying you are, sweetheart," he said gently. "But you do need help. Remember what happened after you crashed your car, when we brought you home?"

The youngest Lance looked down. She remembered very well.

"Your sister… L-Laurel — she wouldn't want you to be like this, honey. Whatever issues the two of you had, you loved each other. It would've destroyed her to see you falling apart like this."

That was true too. For all Sara had resented her sister, she never doubted for a moment that Laurel cared. Probably far too much than she should have. It would've broken her heart to know her death was causing Sara so much pain.

But still… "I'm not going," she declared. "It's not like you are." Sara wasn't the only person here who needed help, after all, but it's not like her parents were ever going to admit it themselves.

Her parents exchanged another look. "If we go, will you?" Quentin asked seriously.

Sara couldn't mask the surprise on her face when she heard those words, and answered the question before she could really think about it. "I would," she admitted, and to her further surprise, it was the truth.

"Then that settles it," Dinah spoke, getting up and heading to her home office. "We're getting a family therapist instead. I'll start researching immediately."

Oh my God, they're serious. What the hell? "Wait a minute, we're actually doing this?"

Quentin sighed, and reached forward to grasp his daughter's hand. "You're all we have left, Sara. We can't lose you like we lost Laurel. And if this is what we need to do to ensure you get the help you need, then this is a small price for us to pay."

Sara didn't know what to say. She didn't know if there was anything she could say. So instead, she just pulled her father forward into a hug, and let herself breathe in his familiar scent. "I miss her so much, Dad," she confessed, her voice choking up.

"I know, honey, I know," her father replied, and it took her a second to realize he was choking up too. "I miss her too."


Thea Queen stomped across the hardwood floors of her family's mansion, a furious pout on her lips. She gave a polite nod to their long-time maid, Raisa, before throwing the door to her brother's room open. Her stupid, jerk-face, promise-breaking brother.

Just as she thought, there Ollie was, sleeping on his bed in the clothes he had been wearing yesterday. Probably another hangover. Thea's hands curled into fists as she went over to the side of her brother's bed, briefly taking in a look of his snoring expression before grabbing the sheets he was sleeping on. With all of her strength, she pulled, watching in spiteful glee as he was forcibly rolled off his mattress with a surprised yelp and landed on the floor. Served him right.

Ollie popped up from the floor with a groan, rubbing the back of his head. "What the hel-heck, Speedy?"

The younger Queen rolled her eyes and glared at him. "You blew off movie night."

Almost immediately, her brother's face fell into the familiar lines of guilt. "I'm sorry Thea," he apologized. "I… I just wasn't up to it."

"We were going to watch one of Dad's favorites," Thea reminded him, and she couldn't help slightly choking up at that. It was still hard thinking about how… how her father was dead.

Oliver didn't say anything to that, though his expression became even more shame-filled. Good, his sister though vindictively. Her brother had been a real jerk lately. This hadn't been the first time he'd blown her off.

"What are you even doing these days, Ollie?" she couldn't help but ask. "Laurel's… Laurel's gone," and didn't that hurt to say, Thea still couldn't believe she was gone too, like Dad, "and all you do is go out with Tommy and party now." Which, granted, he tended to do a lot of even before the Gambit, but now it was practically every night.

"I know, Speedy. It's just… it's something that's helping me deal with everything."

"Yeah, but you never spend time with me anymore because of that."

Oliver cringed, before smiling shakily. "Then how about I set aside some time for us later? Just the two of us, I promise."

Thea scowled. "Don't bother," she shot back. "You'll just skip out on me again, and we both know it."

With that, she turned around to leave, leaving behind a wounded brother in her wake.

Notes:

Laurel meets Slade, and they have a different dynamic compared to Oliver and Slade's relationship on the show. Slade has more respect for Laurel than he does for Oliver since she's marginally less useless than Oliver is and considerably less spoiled (and thus less whiny). The different circumstances of their meeting, namely Slade encountered Laurel while she was extremely vulnerable and in need of serious help, also played a factor. All of this will be important later, though how I'll keep to myself.

Oliver, meanwhile, is dealing with a lot of crap right now. The grief over his father and girlfriend's deaths is clearly getting to him. He's beginning to realize how much he took Laurel for granted and it's affecting the way he interacts with people. And of course, his desire to forget everything means he's not really being the brother he needs to be for Thea right now.

The Lances are taking the first step to healing, something they never managed in canon. This is because of two factors. First, Dinah isn't suffering from the guilt of secretly letting one daughter go on the Gambit and betraying the other, meaning she's better able to serve as the family's support. She's still grieving heavily for Laurel, but the loss of that element means she doesn't feel the need to run away from everything.

Secondly, Sara is lashing out far more than Laurel would have in her place. Laurel is the type of person to throw herself into work to not face her grief and present herself as if everything is fine. That's likely what she did when she got word of Oliver and Sara's "deaths" in canon. While that's fine, we all have our ways of dealing with grief, it did have a negative effect. Because of that, her parents didn't feel they had to really help her and watch out for her in the aftermath, allowing them to focus on (and be absorbed by) their own problems.

But Sara, prior to the Gambit (and after, when she finally started seriously recovering from her trauma), is a far more emotional person whose main outlet is partying and debauchery instead of work. That means the red flags in her behavior are far more obvious, culminating in the DUI from last chapter. With her problems so "in your face", her parents can't ignore them, which ironically means they're better able to process their own issues for the sake of helping her.

Next Chapter: Laurel and Slade infiltrate Fyers' camp and encounter another potential ally.

Chapter 4: Shado

Summary:

Laurel and Slade, in the midst of their infiltration into Fyers's camp, encounter Shado for the first time.

Notes:

Decided to increase the update cadence to twice a week. I'm still writing Year 4 and we're already almost at thirty chapters. If I keep it to once a week it'll take forever to get through the backlog.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Lian Yu

This really could be going better, Laurel thought to herself as she ducked behind a stack of crates, wincing at the sound of repeated of gunshots. She was the daughter of a cop who had been trained in firearms at the behest of her overprotective father, so it wasn't an entirely foreign sound before the island. Now, however, she was far more familiar with that sound than she had any right to be. God, it had only been two months at most and already she was sick of this place.

Slade had been training her for this mission for several weeks. The plan had been simple: sneak into the camp, hopefully undetected, head to the airstrip where the monthly supply plane touched down, steal it and get the hell off this island. Then send back an airstrike to blow Fyers and his men to hell.

They had managed to make it to the communications tower — and Laurel tried not to think of the man Slade had killed to save her — but her, being her stupid, sentimental self, hadn't wanted to go without Yao Fei. Slade had given her three hours to go and bring him back, but being inexperienced in stealth as she was (not to mention being the only woman on the island), she had been spotted and captured. Then the mercenaries dragged her to another, larger tent, Fyers's personal tent apparently, because their leader had decreed that he wanted the "first go" at her. Asshole.

She had been in luck, however. Slade had followed her. Apparently he hadn't trusted her not to get into trouble, and quickly released her from her bonds. Finally giving up on Yao Fei, Laurel had agreed to finally leave on the plane, only for Wintergreen and some of Fyers's thugs to show up and spoil everything. Which was how the two former partners had immediately started engaging in a fire fight, while she was stuck hiding behind a bunch of wood.

Laurel flinched at the sound of another gunshot, and then something was tossed her way. A pistol. She glanced up at Slade.

"Are you going to help me or not?" he asked, not even bothering to look at her.

Swallowing, she took the gun, unlocking the safety and running through all the firearms training her father forced her to get in her head. Carefully, she peaked out in an opening between the crates, and aimed.

Her first shot wasn't aimed well, and hit one of the other crates Wintergreen and his men were using. Laurel inhaled a deep breath, and aimed again, this time for the right shoulder of one of the other shooters. She imagined him as one of the wooden dummies they used at the shooting range, and pulled the trigger. This time, she reached her target. The man collapsed backward, dropping his weapon with a groan.

It was easier after that. Just hit them in the shoulder, or the leg. Not lethal, but enough to take them out of the fight. She didn't have to kill them, like Slade did with the man in the communications tower. Just wound or cripple. That was enough.

Eventually, they got them all. Slade managed to get a shot off Wintergreen's shoulder, and turned to give her a nod of appreciation. "Your father did a good job of trai—"

He didn't get to finish. The shot off Wintergreen hadn't been enough to knock him down, not with the kind of armor he had on. He had his own gun trained on Slade, and Laurel, reacting on instinct, fired first, aiming directly for the head. It was a perfect shot, the bullet piercing right through the forehead in a spray of blood, blowing the skull wide open. He collapsed backward, dead.

She had killed someone. Just like Yao Fei said she would have to one day.

Laurel didn't know how long she stood there, staring at the place where Wintergreen's body once stood. It was only when Slade was slowly guiding her arms down did she realize she was still aiming the gun. There was a softness in his expression, so unlike the Slade she had gotten to know, and maybe it was his way of comforting her, but instead all it was doing was reminding her of everything that had gone wrong in her life ever since she had stepped foot on that stupid boat.

"Laurel."

What she wouldn't give to have another cry right now. Maybe she would, when she had a minute to herself later.

Instead, she turned the safety back on and nodded to him. "Let's go."


But escape wasn't that simple, because they run across another tent, this one open air. And sitting there was another woman, tied up, in Fyers's black fatigues. She claimed to be Yao Fei's daughter, and Laurel, despite knowing that Fyers had no women under his employ and seeing the family resemblance, could not quite bring herself to trust her. There was nothing really suspicious about her — she was probably telling the truth. However, this island had worn away all of Laurel's innocence and left her wary of everything.

It's only when Yao Fei himself appeared, also dressed in those same fatigues, and took the woman — Shado — into his arms that Laurel began to give her the benefit of the doubt. The minute relaxation of Slade's shoulders did the rest. "I'm a father too," Slade explained upon her questioning look. "And there's no faking a father's love. Not like that."

Yao Fei turned to them, and there's no hint of the rugged survivor that had shot an arrow into Laurel's shoulder and taught her what it meant to make it here on Lian Yu. Just the desperate look of a loving parent, and that was enough to make her let go of any of her remaining misgivings. "Take her," Yao Fei told them, pushing Shado towards them. Slade took his sword and cut through the woman's bonds, freeing her arms. "Fyers will come back soon with the main force. If you're still here when he does, you'll never escape. He'll kill you, all of you."

"What about you?" Laurel asked, not willing to leave her first mentor behind. She owed him too much to leave him like this.

It seemed, however, she didn't have a choice. "Someone needs to distract Fyers," Yao Fei explained, shaking his head. "And he won't kill me yet. He needs me for something."

Before anyone could try to argue with him, the camp suddenly came alive again with sound. Slade and Laurel exchanged a look, before glancing back at Shado. The woman didn't look any happier at leaving behind her father than they did. But upon Yao Fei's pleading expression, she closed her eyes and nodded, and that was the end of it.

Another shout from Fyers saw them turning and running, and Laurel chanced one last look back at Yao Fei before following her companions into the safety of the forest.

So much for their great escape.


There's a listless, depressive silence when they arrive back to Slade's hideout. The man was furious they had missed the supply plane and only had an extra mouth to feed to show for it. There were moments where he looked at Laurel as if he was about to yell at her, but something always stopped him. Laurel didn't know whether she was grateful for that or not. Her emotions were in so much turmoil that a good old-fashioned argument would be a well-needed catharsis.

The mood only started improving when Shado noticed the spot Slade had cleared out for training Laurel, and had asked for a spar. Slade, skeptical but nonetheless eager to blow off some steam, agreed. Laurel stepped away to watch.

And couldn't help the laughter that escaped her lips when Slade got flipped on his back within two moves.

"Now are you ready to take me seriously?" Shado asked innocently, as she peered down the groaning man in amusement. Slade glared up at her, springing to his feet, and then they started sparring for real.

Shado, it turned out, could fight. A part of Laurel was jealous, but most of her was in awe. If she had the kind of skills Shado had, her father probably wouldn't have terrorized Ollie so much. And Fyers — well, Fyers would have thought twice about trying anything with her.

"Who taught you how to fight?" Slade asked, impressed, after they finished another round.

"My father wanted a son," Shado explained, unwilling to bend.

This, if anything, caused Slade to smirk. "Well, he got one," he declared.

It was a sign of respect, one Shado returned with a nod of acknowledgement. With that, she finally turned her attention to Laurel, giving the other woman a searching look. Laurel, for her part, blushed and gave a tiny wave upon being noticed.

"How about you?" Shado asked, gesturing to the mat.

Laurel, realizing she was asking for a spar, shook her head furiously as she held up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Oh no. I wouldn't be much of a challenge."

"She's a cop's daughter," Slade explained further, causing Shado to turn back to him. "She's talented, but inexperienced. Has some advanced self-defense training and a few moves from me, but not much more than that." He took a swig of his water bottle, and then smirked. "Real crackshot with a gun, though."

"I see." She glanced back at Laurel. "Would you like to learn?"

What? "Yeah, but—what about Fyers? Your dad?"

"It's going to take time for us to find an opening and formulate a plan. And there's only so much time we can spend on reconnaissance." Shado crossed her arms. "A better use of our time would be making sure you know how to defend yourself properly, if you get separated from us."

That was… true. "When can we start?" Laurel asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Shado smiled, and nodded towards the mats. "Come here. I'll start teaching you right now."


Later that night, Laurel prepared dinner, sore all over. Even so, she didn't think she had ever been this pleased since first arriving on the island. Shado had been a patient and attentive teacher, and Laurel thrived under her tutelage. Even though she had been thrown on her back God knows how many times in the past several hours, she had never felt stronger. She had already picked up a few of the moves Shado had been trying to teach her, and the other woman had already promised to teach her more in the coming days.

"Slade's looking for vegetation we can eat," Shado explained as she re-entered the hideout, carrying a squirming wild chicken. "He said we need to have as much of a balanced diet as we can manage here on the island. A weakened immune system is a much nastier way to go, he told me."

Laurel snorted. "It's saying things like that prove without a shadow of a doubt he's a dad."

Shado laughed. "Agreed. Hey, you think you can handle the chicken?"

"Sure," Laurel replied, reaching out for the knife. She turned around and grabbed it from the feet, only to freeze.

It was white. Just like the one Yao Fei made her kill.

You want survive this place, bird not last thing you kill.

"Laurel? Laurel!"

Laurel broke out of her thoughts, just in time to see Shado snatch the knife out of her hand and slash the neck of the chicken herself. The college student winced at the sight of the blood. Her companion turned to her, looking understandably upset, but it faded away the moment she got a good look at her new friend's expression.

"Was that your first kill?"

The younger woman blinked. "W-What?"

"At the camp, you killed someone, didn't you?" Shado surmised, looking completely understanding. "Was that your first kill?"

"…it was my first human kill," Laurel replied with a sigh, looking down. "Your father made me kill a chicken when I first arrived on the island. It was to teach me a lesson — if I wanted to survive, I needed to be willing to kill."

Shado didn't say anything to that, just hummed. She took the chicken and began cleaning it, while Laurel turned away and tended to the fire. For a while, they just remained in comfortable silence.

"You know," Laurel suddenly said, feeling the urge to speak. "I was planning on becoming a lawyer before all this. I always wanted to be like my dad, to use the law to help people. He wouldn't let me be a cop, so I decided to be a lawyer instead."

She stared into the flames, lost in thought. "Now I'm wondering if I could ever be that person again, after everything that's happened." How could she still believe in the law, on an island where there was no law? Where the only way to live was to survive, and the only way to survive was to kill?

If her father saw her now, would he even recognize her? Or what about her mother, or Sara? Ollie? Tommy? She wasn't the Laurel they knew anymore. That person had died with Robert Queen on the Queen's Gambit. Whoever she was now, it wasn't that girl who had once dreamed of making a stand in front of a judge, arguing for justice. Because on Lian Yu, the last thing in the world that mattered was justice.

"I know that feeling," Shado confessed. Laurel turned around to look at her curiously. "Before my father disappeared, I was a med student. I was planning on becoming a doctor, a combat medic for the army. My father might've wanted sons, but he still loved my twin sister and I. He didn't want us going into the military; I thought this would be a good compromise. I wanted to make him proud."

"And now?"

She shrugged, a bit helplessly. "Honestly, I'd be grateful if both of us made it off this island alive. Everything after that can wait."

Laurel's lip trembled, and she let out a bitter laugh. "Ain't that the truth?"

Shado was right. The first priority was survival. Everything else could come later. Laurel banished all her thoughts of home, and instead pulled out one of the sticks Slade had stored inside the plane. It looked like they were having roast chicken tonight.


Starling City

"Ollie, Tommy! Over here!"

"And there she is," Tommy declared, grinning, as Oliver sighed. The two childhood friends walked over to their third childhood friend, Sara Lance, who was waving at them from one of the tables. They were at Burger & Lobster, one of their old haunts; a lunch date, to catch up between friends.

They hadn't seen Sara in forever, not ever since word about the Gambit came. While none of the Lances blamed the Queens for what happened, there was a distance that hadn't been there before. Oliver couldn't even look at Sara without being reminded of Laurel, and he had a feeling that Sara had felt the same way. When they saw her last week at that club, it felt like a year had already passed instead of three or so months.

And yet there she was, standing in the club, talking to one of her old high school friends. For a moment, with the lights darkened, Oliver almost mistook her for Laurel, and he had to shake his head to chase the hallucination away. When Tommy and him realized it was her, they had immediately gone to her to catch up.

Sara had been standing in the side for once, instead of being in the middle of the action like she usually was. When she saw them, her face lit up, and before the three of them knew it, they were chatting like old times. She had to leave soon after, but they had made plans to meet up again soon. Which is how they were here, right now, eating at a place they hadn't stepped foot in months.

Oliver tried to ignore the empty seat next to Sara, or the memories of who would usually sit there with his friend. It was much harder than he cared to admit. "So how have you—" It took a minute for all three of them to realize they were speaking at the same time, and soon enough they were all laughing.

"Alright, alright," Sara said as the laughter trailed off. "You two go first. What have you been up to?"

Oh, wasn't that a loaded question? "We've been going out a lot. You know. Like usual." It was the truth, though they had gotten kicked out of so many clubs lately that Tommy decided they were overdue for a house party as his place. The fact that he and his father had gotten into another argument yesterday was a complete coincidence, certainly.

"I've actually got a party at my place in a few days," Tommy added, with a roguish grin. "You're invited, of course."

To their surprise, Sara didn't react with glee like they expected. Instead, she gave them a shaky smile in response. "That's nice and all Tommy, but I can't. My parents and I are doing something that night and I don't want to blow them off."

That was… completely unexpected from Sara. Sara usually had no issues blowing off her parents for a good party. Even when she couldn't she had always been careful to sneak out of the house once whatever outing they were on was done so she could join in on the fun. The Lance home hadn't been able to keep her inside in years.

"Well, that's fine," Tommy said, trying not to sound as confused as Oliver felt. "What about you then? What have you been up to for the past couple of months? College?" Much like him, Tommy had been kicked out of more than his fair share of secondary schools.

Sara shook her head. "I'm taking a sabbatical from college," she explained. "I wasn't passing my classes and after… after, I was too depressed to try and start putting in any effort. So my parents made the call to put me on leave until I was in a better headspace. They're thinking I can retake my classes this semester."

"So what have you been doing instead?"

"Therapy."

Oliver blinked. "Really?"

His friend nodded. "Family therapy, to be exact. A few weeks ago I crashed my car and was nearly arrested for a DUI. Dad pulled some strings to get me off since I didn't kill anyone, but then we got into an argument when I got home. And I… I had something of a breakdown over… L-Laurel's death."

The atmosphere turned solemn and grim. They had all avoided saying Laurel's name, and yet her ghost was here all the same. Oliver swallowed.

"I said a lot of stuff that I'd been holding back over the years," Sara continued, looking a bit uncomfortable. "It made my parents realize that there were a lot of problems in our family that we needed to resolve. Laurel—She wouldn't want us like that. So we decided on family therapy. It's been really helpful so far."

That was good. Really good. Laurel would be glad for that. Oliver put on a smile. "I'm happy for you then."

It was true. Even if he didn't really feel happy at all.


When lunch was over, Sara asked to speak with him privately. Surprised once more, Oliver complied, so they stepped aside in a corner of the restaurant while Tommy called his driver to pick the two of them up. He had offered to take Sara home as well, but she waived him off, saying that she was just going to hail a cab instead.

"What's up, Sara?" Oliver asked, once they were alone.

Sara crossed her arms, giving him an unimpressed look, and never before had she looked more like Laurel's sister. "Ollie, I'm not an idiot. I know how bad you're doing."

"I don't know what you're talk—"

"I can read, Ollie," Sara cut him off, a hand going to her purse and taking out one of those trashy tabloids. One that had his face plastered all over it, after he had gotten kicked out of another club. "You don't need to say anything. The paps have been saying enough, and it's enough for me to be concerned. Hell, even my dad is worried about you, and you and him haven't had the best relationship in recent years." Not since he had started dating Laurel, at least.

Oliver winced, before schooling his expression. "What are you trying to say, Sara?"

His friend sighed. "Have you ever thought of getting help yourself?" she asked seriously.

"Wha—? You mean therapy, like you and your parents?"

Sara nodded. "Laurel wouldn't have wanted you falling apart either, Ollie. Nor would your dad. You keep going down this road, you're not just going to hurt yourself. You're going to hurt the people who love you too."

"Sara…" For once, Oliver really was speechless. When had his immature friend grown up?

"Just think about it, alright?" With that, she pulled him into a hug, rubbing the back of his head and patting his shoulder before letting go. Oliver could only stare as she walked away, and it was only the sound of Tommy's voice, announcing that the car was here, that broke him out of his trance.

As he walked towards his best friend, only one thought crossed his mind: where had that come from?

Notes:

Concern, Oliver. Concern. Other people care about you, you jerk.

Laurel and Slade become a trio with Shado a bit earlier than Oliver and Slade did in canon. That's deliberate too — I wanted Laurel and Shado bonding just a little bit longer. Their friendship is going to be a major part of the early years of the story, and is going to help shape Laurel into the hero she's meant to be. Not to mention, I also wanted to portray their similarities. That's going to be important later on as well.

Meanwhile, Oliver and Tommy catch up with Sara, who is in a better headspace after a few weeks of therapy. She's finally talking about her problems and working through them, which is a major help. And because of that, she can see how much Oliver is struggling and is encouraging him to get help too. Whether Oliver takes her advice or not remains to be seen.

Next Chapter: The last chapter of Year 1.

Chapter 5: Oliver

Summary:

Oliver deals with the consequences of his recent behavior.

On Lian Yu, Laurel has her final face-off with Fyers.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

A few days passed by. Oliver put Sara's words out of his mind and carried on as he had. He knew that his friend was coming at him from a place of concern, but Oliver honestly couldn't bring himself to take her advice to heart. His problems were his problems, and it was far easier to sink back into his vices and forget they were there than go to some shrink and talk about it and remember. So what if he had gotten kicked out of some clubs? He was Oliver Queen, they'd let him back in soon enough.

Tommy's house party was going to be legendary, his best friend had promised. Oliver's brother in everything but blood had perfected throwing an awesome shinding and had made it into a complete artform. The Queen heir might be skilled at setting up a pretty awesome party himself, but it was nothing compared to Tommy's abilities. He had taken full advantage of how little his father paid attention to him to contact some of the best chefs in the city to provide the catering and outsourced some pretty sweet alcohol, all good enough to pass the notoriously scrupulous Merlyn palate. Not to mention several of the best upcoming acts on the music scene and lots and lots of expensive decorations.

It was beautifully wasteful and just the right amount of wildly gauche, and everything Oliver needed to forget the past several weeks. His father, his mother, Thea, Laurel, Sara… he didn't have to think about any of them at all, and that was just the way he liked it. So what if he wasn't willing to face his problems? With the kind of money he had, he didn't have to.

None of it needed to matter. And if it didn't matter, it couldn't hurt him. And that was the most important thing of all.


The moment Oliver arrived to Merlyn Mansion, fashionably late as always, the party was in full swing. A rock band was playing some song he didn't recognize, but it was loud and had a rhythm, so who cared? People were dancing in every corner of the house, several of the decorations had already been wrecked (including many of Mr. Merlyn's prized paintings, and Oliver was glad he wasn't going to be around for the vicious argument Tommy was sure to have with his dad in the morning), and the alcohol was flowing freely. It was perfect.

Tommy sauntered up to him, both of his arms wrapped around two beautiful twins, already on the way to being sloshed and with a familiar grin on his face. "Ollie! Glad you could make it!"

"I wouldn't miss this party for the world," Oliver declared, taking a shot glass from the tray of a passing waiter and taking a swig. Already that wonderful warm buzz was beginning to overtake his mind, and Oliver welcomed it like it were an old friend.

After exchanging pleasantries with Tommy, Oliver hit up the bar and had a few more drinks, before going over to the kitchen to grab a few bites. Once his appetite was suitably sated, he headed over to the nearby stage where that loud rock band was playing, climbed up to the top and threw himself into the mosh pit. He let himself be carried by the wave, allowing the music to drown out all his thoughts. This was the life, for certain.

After riding the wave for a while, Oliver felt his buzz begin to lighten, which meant it was time to hit up the bar again. He allowed the crowd to carry him to the side where he landed on his feet. After stretching for a bit, he head in the direction of where the alcohol was, ignoring the growing stench of vomit around the area. The staff would clean it up soon enough.

Just as he was about to make it to the drink bar, some shortie carrying a glass of the (probably spiked) punch ran into him. The drink splashed all over his clothes, to Oliver's annoyance. "Hey, watch where you're—"

The shortie looked up. It was Thea.

Oliver immediately felt himself go stone cold sober. "Speedy? What are you doing here?"

His sister, his young, twelve year old, baby sister, looked like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar as she looked up at him with horror. Then, she adopted a shaky smile, quickly throwing the cup of punch she was carrying to the side and ignoring how it splashed against the walls. "Ollie, hey! Pretty sick party, huh?"

"Thea," Oliver said demandingly, crossing his arms.

Realizing that he wasn't going to give her a pass, Thea's shoulders slumped as she looked down. "I snuck out so I could join you at the party."

Oliver sighed. "Thea, this is an adult party. You're old enough to know exactly what goes on here, and why you weren't allowed to come."

"I know. It's just… I was feeling lonely." She began tapping her fingers together in a nervous gesture. "I was hoping that you'd let me stay and we could spend time together."

It was like having a bucket of ice cold water tossed onto him. Oliver closed his eyes and counted to ten before firmly taking his sister by the wrist and dragging her away to where Tommy was. His best friend, as the host, couldn't get completely drunk just yet, in case something happened and he needed to resolve it. This, unfortunately, was one such situation.

"Hey, Ollie, what's with the sou—Speedy?" Tommy's jaw dropped as he spotted Oliver's younger sister behind his best friend. "What are you doing here? Why the hell did security let you in?"

Thea shrugged. "They didn't. I snuck inside while they weren't looking."

That only caused Tommy to groan, and Oliver to palm his face. "Needless to say, I'm leaving," he told the other man.

"It's fine, man, I've just about lost my party spirit too. Want me to call you guys a cab?"

"Yes, please." Oliver glanced at Thea, mouth set in a grim line. "Don't even think of trying to get out of this."

Thea pouted.


When they arrived back home at the Queen Mansion, the entire place was abuzz with activity, and Oliver had a feeling he knew why. What remaining staff there was, they were fritting about, searching for something (or more likely, someone) while their mother paced back and forth in the living room. When Oliver went to see her, Thea in tow, her head snapped up. "Oliver! Thea's disappeared—do you have any idea where she could've gone?"

Instead of answering, Oliver gently tugged on his sister's arm, causing her to glumly march into view from where she had been hiding behind his back. Moira blinked in confusion and relief. "Thea! Thank God you're alright. Where did you find her?" she asked her son as she gathered her daughter into her arms.

Oliver frowned and crossed his arms. "At Tommy's house party, trying the spiked punch."

"What?" Moira looked down at her wincing daughter, instantly going from worried to furious. "Thea Dearden Queen! How could be so reckless and irresponsible like that? Sneaking out to attend a house party? What if something had happened?"

"Mom—"

"And underage drinking of all things? You should know better than that!"

"Mom!"

"Do you have any idea how worried I was? The entire staff has been searching the grounds for hours—"

"MOM!"

The room fell silent as every eye fell upon the upset preteen. Thea, for her part, clenched her hands into fists as her eyes began to water. She glared up with Moira with all the anger and sadness she could muster.

"I just wanted to spend time with my brother," she confessed. "Since you won't spend time with me either. I wouldn't have gone to the party otherwise."

Both of the other Queens were stunned by that answer. "Thea…" Moira said again, this time much more softly.

She didn't get out much more than that. Thea wrenched away from her embrace and began marching to the stairs. "Forget it. Just forget it! Neither of you care anyway!"

"Speedy, where are you going?" Oliver asked, still a bit thrown off by his sister's confession. It was the same thing she had said at the party, but he had brushed it off as an empty excuse. Yet it seemed she really had gone just to be with him. Was he really neglecting her so much that she was willing to go to that kind of extreme to spend time with him?

"To my room. Where else?" Thea yelled back, not even bothering to turn around.

"Thea Dearden Queen, get back here!" Moira shouted, hands on her hips. "We are not finished talking!"

Instead of answering, Thea turned around and gave her the finger. Oliver's jaw dropped as Moira gasped. "You're grounded!" the Queen Matriarch declared as soon as she got her wits about her.

"Whatever!" With that, the youngest Queen ran up the stairs and disappeared from view. Oliver could hear the faint sounds of sobbing, and sighed, before turning back to his mother.

Moira looked like the last few minutes had aged her a hundred years. With her own sigh, she went to the couch and sat down, burying her face in her hands. After a moment of thought, Oliver went to join her, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into a hug.

"Don't take it personally," Oliver softly told his mother, rubbing her arm in a comforting gesture. "She's just having a hard time, like the rest of us."

"I know, honey," Moira assured him. "But that doesn't make it any easier."

Oliver swallowed and nodded. They stayed like that for a little while, and then Moira suddenly pulled away to look at him. She seemed to be nervous, but there was a resolve in her eyes that refused to go away. "You do realize the reason she's acting out like this is because you are too, right?"

"Mom?" Oliver said, shocked.

"She looks up to you more than anyone else, Oliver," his mother gently reminded him.

At that statement, he could only look down at his lap. She was right, of course. Beneath all her anger and occasional brattiness, Thea idolized him, probably far more than she should. God knows why, he was hardly a model for good behavior, but she did. She always wanted to spend time with him, regardless of whatever the hell he was doing at the time. Laurel had found it sweet; Oliver didn't know how many times she had scolded him for complaining about how clingy Thea could be.

Laurel. It always came back to her in the end, didn't it? Her and Dad. Oliver ran away from everything that reminded him both of them, because it was easier than confronting the reality that both of them were gone and he had taken both of their presences for granted. That he had been left with so many regrets and no ways to resolve them.

But this hadn't really been a solution either, had it? You keep going down this road, you're not just going to hurt yourself. You're going to hurt the people who love you too. Sara's words reverberated in his mind, and it was here and now, in the face of his younger sister's grief, that he had to admit that she was right.

"You're right," he said, watching his mother's expression grow shocked. "This is only happening because of me. Because she's watching me go out every night, getting drunk off my ass, and thinks it's an appropriate way to process her grief."

"Oliver…"

Oliver swallowed. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry about how I've been acting for these past few months. It's just… losing Dad, losing Laurel — it's been hard. And I didn't know any other way to deal with it all."

"Oh, honey, you don't need to apologize for that," Moira told him, taking his hand. "I know how you feel. Dealing with the loss of a loved one is never easy, and you lost two. If anything, it's my fault too — I've been too caught up in my own grief to be there for either you or your sister."

The younger Queen nodded. "…I talked to Sara the other day. Her and her parents have been getting family therapy for the last couple of weeks. It's been doing them a lot of good. And Sara told me that I should consider getting therapy too."

Moira frowned. "Are you comfortable with that? You don't have to do it if you don't want to, Oliver."

But Oliver shook his head. "I do. You were all right. Dad, Laurel, neither of them wouldn't want me to be like this. And I don't want to be like this either, if it means Thea ends up becoming like me. But I can't do it by myself — I don't know how." He shrugged helplessly. "I need help, Mom."

His mother smiled sadly and gently cupped his face into her hands. "Then we'll get help. We'll all get help."

Oliver smiled, and pulled his mother into another hug.


Lian Yu

"NO!"

But it was no use. Laurel watched helplessly as Yao Fei fell back with a bullet hole in his skull, undeniably dead. The unmistakable, familiar feeling of grief and guilt was nearly overwhelming as she struggled against her bonds so she could go to the body. Next to her, Shado was crying as she called out to her father in Mandarin, while on the other side she could feel Slade's growing rage.

And standing above them all, satisfied like a cat that caught the canary, was Edward Fyers. The man was nonchalant as he re-holstered his gun and turned back to his men to start the launch. In just a few minutes, a missile was about to be shot into the sky, striking a commercial airliner for the sole purpose of devastating the Chinese economy. Hundreds of innocent people were going to die, not to mention the countless millions that would suffer from the incoming recession, and the man didn't care beyond making sure the check from his employer cleared afterwards.

It was in that moment Laurel knew she had never seen true evil until now. All the low-life perps her father had arrested, they were nothing compared to this man. A man that was willing to ruin over a billion lives for the sake of profit and ego, and all Laurel knew was that if she could make sure Fyers died today, then she didn't care what happened to her afterwards. She'd be able to die happy, knowing that she at least managed to rid the world of this one evil.

As the countdown drew closer to an end, Laurel felt her bonds begin to loosen as the knife Yao Fei passed to her cut through the ropes. She exchanged looks with Shado and then with Slade, and on a silent count of three, they attacked. After cutting her friends free, Laurel headed directly for Fyers and gave him several blows to the face and a kick in the nuts, before going to the man operating the main console for the missile launcher and stabbing him in the side.

Shado was covering her back from the rest of Fyers's men, while Slade stole a machine gun from another mercenary and was firing indiscriminately at their enemies. "Go!" he shouted at them. "I'll cover you!"

Laurel, knowing what he meant, followed Shado as they headed directly for the missile launcher. "Keep them off me!" her friend shouted. "I'll redirect the missile!"

"How?"

"I can reprogram it to fire somewhere else!"

Really? Her new friend and mentor was full of surprises. But Laurel wasn't in any position to complain, and simply nodded. The sound of the missile firing stopped them for a brief moment, but only just — Laurel continued following Shado, climbing up onto the missile launcher and attacking the men trying to guard it while her companion opened up one of the hatches on the weapon. As Shado worked, Laurel disarmed one of the mercenaries, taking his gun and shooting him in the stomach with it. She shot another and another, and then—

"TAKE COVER!"

Shado's voice reverberated throughout the entire area, and Laurel reacted on instinct. She dropped the gun and dropped to the ground, hiding behind the missile launcher as the entire world exploded around them. Laurel closed her eyes as heat and force surrounded her, and blacked out.


When the sensations finally ended, Laurel felt sore all over, but alive. She didn't get the chance to enjoy it, however.

"Up! Get up!"

Fyers. Of course he would survive the explosion too.

Laurel grunted as she was turned onto her back. Fyers buried a knee in-between her shoulder blades as he tied her wrists together once again. Once they were properly knotted up, the young woman felt a gun buried into her side as she was slowly guided back up into a standing position.

Great. She was a hostage again.

"You stupid little strumpet," her captor hissed into her ear as she was forcibly pushed towards the direction of the burning camp. "You ruined everything! I can't wait to put a bullet in your skull, but not before I have you on your knees where you belong."

She didn't bother saying anything in return, just scowling heavily. They made it into the camp, and Fyers held her close as they confronted Shado and Slade. Laurel took in her friends' appearances as Fyers started his monologue. Shado looked fine for the most part, though she was carrying a bow in one hand, not unlike her father's, and an arrow in the other. Slade, however, clearly had not managed to escape the explosion unscathed. He was covered completely in soot and seemed barely able to stand at all.

"Amazing. A two-year operation ruined all because a random college student happened to wash up on the shore, and here you are, a killer," Fyers almost sounded amused at the notion, in a deranged sort of way. "I don't think I've ever hated anyone as much as I've hated you, Miss Lance. And now, I can't help but wonder — do your new friends like you well enough to give up their freedom for you?"

He looked directly at Slade and Shado as he spoke the next sentence. "I can call a rescue ship. You two can go home. All you need to do is let me have my way with her."

Slade snarled at the suggestion. The grip on Shado's bow tightened as she began aiming at Fyers. But it was Laurel who was the most incensed of all.

All you need to do is let me have my way with her. There was no question what he intended to do with her. And Laurel had only one response to that.

She reared her head forward before slamming it backwards, cracking the back of her skull with Fyers's nose. The man stumbled away, letting her go as he used his free hand to stem the bleeding of his now bloody nose. Laurel didn't let him have even that moment of reprieve, instead opting to kick the gun out of his hand before kicking him again in the dick. He fell to the ground with a groan as she continued to kick and kick and kick.

"Fuck—" Kick. "—You. I'm not some fucking toy for you to use to feel better about yourself!" She finished him off with a final kick to the side, leaving her foe in a groaning heap as she turned back to her friends in a huff.

They were both staring at her with pride and, in Slade's case, a bit of awe. Laurel allowed a smile to grace her lips as she began walking towards them, only to stop when she saw their expressions quickly turn into ones of horror. She turned around just in time to dodge a stab to the back of her head. Fyers chased after her with a snarl, his expression completely demented and feral.

"Laurel! Duck!"

Laurel did just that, and felt something sail above her. She looked up just in time to see Fyers collapse dead, an arrow in his heart.

For a moment, the castaway did nothing but stare at the corpse of the man who had tormented for these past several months. She didn't know how to feel. Elated? Relieved?

But then Shado walked up to her, Slade hanging off her shoulder, and smiled at her. Laurel smiled back, and closed her eyes as a weight was lifted off her shoulders. It was over.

It was finally, finally over.

Notes:

And that's Year 1 finished. Four more years to go until Season 1, and next year is when the divergences really begin to start. I think you're going to enjoy it, considering what's coming next.

As for this chapter, Oliver finally decides to get help for his problems. To no one's surprise, it's because his behavior is negatively affecting Thea, and there's just about anything he would do for his baby sister. Thea, for her part, will still be having her own issues over the years, but with Oliver still here, she's going to grow up into someone more mature and put together than canon Thea.

I hope you enjoyed the final confrontation between Laurel and Fyers. When writing this story I knew how that's how I wanted things to end between them, but I never realized how great a dynamic they would have until I actually started writing it. Fyers is the first person that Laurel can admit she truly hates with all of her being, her first real arch-enemy. And I loved writing Fyers falling apart over his growing hatred of Laurel.

Next Chapter: The beginning of Year 2.

Chapter 6: The Will

Summary:

Almost a year after the sinking of the Queen's Gambit, Laurel and her friends encounter a new threat.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Lian Yu

Shado inhaled a deep breath as she pulled the string of her bow taut, aiming the arrow between her fingers quietly and carefully. Once she was certain her quarry had completely let its guard down, she let go, watching as the projectile sailed through air before hitting its target. The head of the arrow punctured through the flesh of the neck with a piercing sound, the deer collapsing onto its side with hardly a peep.

Whispering a silent prayer for the animal that she just killed and would be feeding her and her companions tonight, Shado quickly darted to the newly-made game and started tying it up to the pole on her back, to help her carry it to the wrecked plane she and her friends called home. Once it was secure, she lifted it up and followed the markers back to her camp. She could just imagine how much their faces were going to light up once they saw how much they had to eat tonight.

It was a meager comfort. But after almost one year on this hell of an island, they took what comforts they could get.


When Shado arrived back home, Laurel and Slade were in the middle of training. They were doing an exercise that Slade had picked up during his time ASIS to improve a person's variable acceleration and overall reaction time, practicing with escrima sticks. Laurel had an expression of concentration as she matched Slade blow-for-blow, her speed slowly increasing as she got used to his rhythm. Eventually, she struck true with one of the poles, smacking him right across the face and knocking him down to the ground.

Laurel gasped, putting a hand to her mouth, while Slade laughed in amusement, impressed. "Good one," he complimented her, rubbing his cheek as he got back to his feet.

"Your skills have improved much these past couple of months," Shado noted as she secured the game to a nearby apparatus, letting it hang there so they could prepare it to be cooked later. "You should be proud, Laurel."

Her American friend blushed. "Thanks, guys." She glanced at the deer curiously. "I take it that's dinner?"

"It is. I got lucky — saw this one prancing around the forest, trying to find food. We'll be feasting tonight."

"Which means I need to get us more fresh water," Laurel declared, setting the escrima stucks to the side and taking her knife, stolen from Fyers all those months ago, and strapping it to her leg. She headed over and took two jugs with her, jogging out of the plane with a loud promise to return within an hour or so.

The other woman watched her go with a fond shake of the head, before a wistful sigh caught her attention. She turned around and arched a knowing eyebrow at Slade, who was watching the entrance where Laurel had exited with a longing expression on his face. "You know, one of these days you're going to have to tell her about your feelings, Slade."

Slade glanced at her with a slight glare before taking the sticks Laurel and him were using and storing them. "You know why I can't. She already has somebody else." They had both seen how Laurel kept fingering the necklace around her neck everyday they spent on this island.

That only caused Shado's face to scrunch up in an unimpressed and rather distasteful look. "Right. The billionaire playboy boyfriend." The more she heard about Oliver Queen and how he had treated her friend in the past during their relationship, the more she came to dislike him. For all that Laurel insisted there was more to Oliver than what he seemed to be, Shado still felt he wasn't good enough for her friend.

"She loves him, Shado," Slade pointed out with a bittersweet certainty and a touch of sorrow.

"Yeah, but does he love her? I mean, how many times did he cheat on her? He might've been drunk all those times, but that's no excuse. She's deserves better than him."

"And you think I could be better than him? I'm almost two decades older than her."

Shado rolled her eyes and gave Slade a disappointed look. "Age is but a number, Slade. And you two have gotten close over these last several months. We both know that you'll treat Laurel the way she deserves, so why don't you take a chance?"

Slade frowned. "We don't even know she could even feel that way about me. Especially when she's still hung up on him."

"So what? Even if Laurel does still love him right now, I'm sure that with time, she'll come to see that he's not worth it and see what a great guy you are. But you won't know if you don't present yourself as an option, my friend."

He didn't have anything to say to that. Shado went over to him and patted him on the shoulder in a familiar, comforting manner. "Just think about it, alright?"


Slade didn't get a chance to really think about it, and neither did she. Fyers's old proximity alarm picked up the appearances of several unknown men nearing the safe zone surrounding their camp. The three of them went to approach them, to see if they were potential friendlies or enemies, and possibly ask to hitch a ride on whatever mode of transportation they used to come to the island. As much as they had come to care for and even love each other as friends and family, they all wanted off Lian Yu and back to civilization so they could reunite with their other loved ones too.

It turned out that their hopes were little more than ash; the men were pirates, pirates with weapons and guns. Far more savage and violent than the professional mercenaries that followed Fyers's lead and obeyed his every command. A fight broke out immediately, and Shado found herself once again battling for her life. In the darkness, it was hard to see, so she didn't spot one of the pirates she had seemingly taken down rising from behind her, readying himself to take her out.

But Laurel did. Her friend charged the man with a scream, knocking him down to the ground and mounting his body as she rained punches down on his face. She was so absorbed in her rage that it was only when she heard both Shado and Slade shouting for her to stop that she broke out of her trance. Shado watched as Laurel uncurled her hands, staring at the bloody palms in horror and disbelief.

And then she got up and ran, ignoring all their calls for her to come back.


Starling City

Oliver tried not to fidget too much as his mother and himself sat down inside Jean's office, waiting for her to return with the copy of his father's will. After holding out for several months, it had finally been decided to declare him legally dead. His body had yet to be found, and as much as they hated it, it was time for them to move on.

Laurel herself had been declared dead about two months ago, with an accompanying empty casket funeral to match. Both Oliver and his mother had offered to pay for the services, feeling a measure of responsibility since she had died on the Gambit, but the Lances had politely refused them, feeling it was their responsibility instead. The Queens had still been invited to attend, however, as they were still close friends of the family and everyone knew Laurel would've wanted them to be there.

Oliver still had pinpricks in his eyes whenever he thought of that day, staring at the hollow casket wreathed in flowers next to the standing portrait of Laurel's beautiful, beaming face. It wasn't right. Some part of Oliver still believed that she was still alive, that she had to be out there somewhere, even though intellectually he knew it was highly unlikely. But the Lances had given up hope the more the months went on, and it wasn't his place to reopen the wound for them. So he hadn't said a word in protest, and had gone to the service anyway to support them. It's what Laurel would've wanted.

And it was ample preparation for when they held his father's funeral last week. Unlike with Laurel, Oliver didn't have that bone-deep ache that told him Robert was still alive. In his heart of hearts, something, whatever it was that kept that small hope that Laurel was alive, was also telling him his father was dead. So when his mother approached him with the possibility of finally declaring Robert legally dead, he had accepted the decision. As much as it hurt, it was time for their family to move on. For all of them to move on.

Truth be told, they had already started on the process. Sara had returned to college, more determined to focus on her studies than ever. She had told Oliver and Tommy during one of their outings that she had decided to declare herself as a pre-med major and intended to one day go to medical school to become a doctor. It was a direction in life for a girl who had been used to going with the flow, and Oliver knew that part of it was her own way of honoring her sister. Becoming a doctor, helping save people's lives, that's the kind of thing Laurel would've been proud of.

For Oliver, it was very much same. Both Laurel and his father would've wanted him to make something of himself, which was why he had opted to go back to college and get his business degree. Not Ivy League, however — the issues with Thea had made it clear that both his mother and sister need him at home as a pillar to lean on. So he had opted to go to Starling University instead, to stay close to his family. Not as prestigious as Yale or Harvard, but a decent enough school, one that allow him to go to a good business school later on for his MBA.

He still occasionally hung out with Tommy, of course. They were on different paths in life now, since Tommy was committed to being as much as an entitled trust fund baby as ever in complete spite of his father, but the man was still his best friend. It was him that always reminded Oliver that he couldn't focus on work all the time and needed to relax once in a while, something he desperately needed. As focused as he was on his future and setting a good example for his sister, he also needed to think about himself sometimes.

Jean arrived with the quiet flourish she always did, straightening out her papers and seating herself down. She welcomed Oliver and Moira, and got on straight to business. The contents of the will were hardly surprising: both his mother and sister got portions of the family fortune through personal trusts and small stakes in the family company. Another portion had been set aside for various charities. The majority of Queen family's assets, including the majority stake of Queen Consolidated that Robert once held, had gone to Oliver.

They had already foreseen this — when his mother took temporary control of the Queen Estate, she and QC's board had quickly declared Walter Steele, the company's CFO, the interim CEO of Queen Consolidated. Oliver had met Walter himself and found him to be polite and kind, and what he read of the man's capabilities, quite competent. He had discussed it with his mother, and decided there was no reason not to make Walter the permanent CEO for QC. The only other option for the position was his mother, since Oliver had no real experience in business yet, and she had told him she would rather not carry on a job now that she was a single mother caring for a young teenager.

"In addition to that, your father left you a few tasks that he wanted you to conduct on his behalf in the wake of his death," Jean concluded the reading with, passing on an envelope to Oliver. Oliver took it and put it into a pocket inside his suit jacket, deciding to read the last words his father had for him in private.

With that final statement made, she passed them on three copies of the will for their own records — one for himself, one for Thea, and one for his mother. His mother took all three, promising to properly file them in her office. With that, they said their goodbyes to Jean and left.


As they were leaving Jean's office, Oliver decided to ask his mother that had been nagging him for the past couple of days. "Mom, forgive me if this is a bit abrupt, but where did you go Tuesday night? When I got home that night, I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out to eat, but Thea told me you were already gone."

His mother froze. "Ah. Tuesday night. I… was out on a date."

Oliver stilled, feeling his blood run cold. "What?" A date?

"It was just a date, Oliver," Moira quickly defended herself. "It was nothing serious."

"Right. And the fact that we only just declared Dad dead a month ago didn't matter at all?" He tried to keep his voice level, but it was hard.

"Sweetheart—"

"No," Oliver cut her off. "Just… no. I can't deal with this right now. Tonight for dinner, tell Raisa to just send it to my room. I'd rather eat it on my own." With that final word, he left, heading directly for his car.


"I mean, how could she?" Oliver complained to his two best friends the next day. "I know Dad and her had their issues at times, but they loved each other! He hasn't even been gone a year, we only declared him dead last month, and she's dating now?"

Tommy and Sara exchanged a look. "I mean, your mom does have the right to move on, Ollie," Sara pointed out wisely.

The Queen scion sighed. "I know, but… so soon? I mean, just look at me — I haven't been able to look at another woman like that ever since I lost Laurel." He hadn't really tried, granted, but every time he imagined a possible significant other, all he could think of was her. He still had her picture in his wallet, slotted in a way so that it was the first thing he saw every time he opened the flaps. So I'll always be with you, she had told him when she had given it to him that fateful day, and he had always looked towards it whenever he needed a source of strength.

"I know what you mean, Ollie, but your mother moving on isn't necessarily a bad thing," Tommy said, swirling some of his soup. "I'm going to be honest with you guys, there are times where I wished my dad wasn't so devoted to my mom's memory. I love my mother and nobody could ever replace her, but if my dad had found someone else to make him happy, then maybe he wouldn't be such an asshole these days."

Both Oliver and Sara gave him a flat look. Tommy held up his hands in a defensive posture. "Again, I'm just being honest."

"Moving on…" Sara said slowly, turning back to Oliver. "Your dad left behind some things he wanted you to do for him?"

"Yeah. Most of its minor, like delivering some old keepsakes and letters, but there's one major thing—he's asked me to meet this one woman and her daughter who live in the Glades. I don't know why, but he was really insistent about it." Oliver rubbed the back of his head. "There's a second letter I'm supposed to read after I've met them."

"Huh. That's kind of strange," Sara noted. "What's her name?"

"Kazumi," Oliver revealed. "Kazumi Adachi. And her daughter's name is Emiko."


Lian Yu

Shado and Slade find Laurel by the river in the morning, in the midst of dry heaving and doing her best not to throw up. With food in such short supply on the island, she really couldn't afford to. Upon seeing her friend in such emotional distress, Shado turned to Slade and tried to push him into talking with her, but the man refused to budge.

"I'm not good with these sorts of things," he had claimed awkwardly. "I'm not the person to talk to when it comes to something like this."

For a man who had charged into an army of armed mercenaries with nothing but a sword and a grin on his face, Slade could be such a coward at times. Shado simply shook her head, and headed towards Laurel herself. If Slade wasn't going to step up, then it seemed she would have to in his place.

"Laurel."

Her friend turned around, and her eyes were shiny. Laurel had gotten better about holding back her tears, but she was honestly the most emotional and empathetic out of all of them. It was one of the things Shado liked the most about her, but it didn't come without its downsides. "Shado?"

Shado didn't say anything at first. Instead, she sat herself down next to her friend, her best friend really, and saddled up next to her, taking one of her hands into her own. "You saved my life, you know."

Laurel sighed. "I know. I keep telling myself that, but…"

"You're scared," Shado surmised. "You're afraid that everything that's happened to you these past several months is turning you into something terrible."

"I am," the other woman admitted. "I'm scared that even if we get off this island, it's something always going to be. And I don't if I could ever face my loved ones, knowing that."

It was an understandable fear. The kind of fear they all had. The young archer turned around a little bit more, so Laurel and her were face-to-face. She took her friend's other hand, and grasped it tightly. "Laurel, we all have this darkness inside of us. Just like we all have a light inside us as well. After everything you've been through since arriving here, and even before that, it's understandable why your darkness get the best of you in the heat of the moment."

The other woman swallowed. Shado pressed on. "There are always going to be moments where our darkness comes out. That's just the nature of life — it's not always that kind to us. But as long as you don't let your darkness consume you, you will be fine. You just need to remember to keep on following the light inside of you instead."

"But what if I forget?"

Shado smiled. "Then I guess that's what Slade and I here for, right?"

That seemed to do the trick. A small, genuine smile tugged at Laurel's face, and a moment later they were sharing an embrace. "Thank you, Shado," Laurel whispered into her ear.

Shado didn't say anything in return. She simply hugged back.

Notes:

Laurel and Shado have such a strong bond, and I enjoyed writing from Shado's perspective. She really does deserve more love and to be more of a character beyond being Slade's obsession.

Speaking of Slade, the culmination of the changes in Year 1 with his character has finally been revealed — in this AU, he ends up falling in love with Laurel instead of Shado. This is for several reasons: he met Laurel far earlier than he did Oliver in canon, meaning he got to spend far more time with her than Oliver did and bonded with her easily since she was slightly more competent and far less spoiled. By the time he met Shado, Laurel and him had a solid bond that his feelings built off of.

Secondly, Laurel shares many of the same qualities that caused Slade to fall in love/become obsessed with Shado: a fierce spirit, a strong will, and intelligence. Not to mention being very beautiful. However, she also had a certain vulnerability to her that Shado lacked that appealed to Slade's protective instincts. Laurel is also more emotionally "accessible", since she's always been someone to wear her heart on her sleeve, meaning that Slade had an easier time confiding in her about certain troubles and receiving comfort in return.

Needless to say, this is going to change a lot down the line for both this year and in Season 2, especially since there's no Sara equivalent on the Amazo with Ivo right now. But that's for the future.

Meanwhile, back in Starling, everyone is reluctantly beginning to move on with their lives. Both Oliver and Sara are going back to college, and Oliver is officially made head of the Queen Family, even if his mom is still somewhat calling the shots behind the scenes. And of course, Oliver isn't happy to hear Moira is dating, but it's understandable considering how soon it is after Robert's "legal" death.

Of course, that's not all on his plate, considering he's about to meet Kazumi and Emiko. And what fun that's going to be.

Next Chapter: Laurel and co. meet Ivo for the first time, while Oliver meets the Adachis.

Chapter 7: Ivo

Summary:

Laurel reflects on her friendship with Shado and Slade and meets the leader of the newest band of arrivals to Lian Yu.

Meanwhile, Oliver meets the Adachis and learns an unpleasant truth.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Laurel never really had older siblings before. She had always been the older sister herself. First to Sara, something that could be a little nerve wracking at times considering how much her parents tended to baby her little sister at times. They had always indulged her more than they should have, and that had made Laurel worry for her. Sara might have thought her oblivious, but Laurel had heard enough through their social circle's grapevine to know that her sister had been skiving off her classes prior to Laurel getting on the Gambit. Whatever her sister believed, the real world was never going to give her the infinite number of passes their parents did.

Then there was Thea. As much as Speedy had adored Oliver and Tommy, she had always needed a role model of a decidedly more feminine pursuit to look up to. Moira had always tried her best to be that person, but as much as mother and daughter loved each other, there always something between them that just didn't click right. So it was Laurel that Thea had ended up turning to instead. Laurel had been the one to take Thea out shopping for her middle school prom dress dress, to occasionally driver her to and from archery practice and horseback riding, and to explain her periods to her when her first one had come while her mother had been out on a business trip.

Even Oliver and Tommy had occasionally come to her for advice, usually involving their fathers. Oliver had loved his father but the two had been growing distant over Robert's growing desire to start grooming his son for the CEO position at Queen Consolidated. And Tommy's father — well, the less said about him, the better. She hadn't minded that either, because she cared about them both, like she cared for Sara and Thea.

But Laurel herself had never really had anyone to look out for her in the same way. She was always expected to be the stable one, the rock everyone leaned on, the confidant that listened to all their problems, and ultimately, the one who never needed help herself. And for the most part, she did her best to live up to that ideal. But it could be so difficult at times — there were always moments where she wished someone would be there for her like she always had to be for everyone else.

The only person who had ever really managed that was Oliver. Whenever he wasn't stuck on his own problems, he had always been willing to listen to hers and give his own advice. He was the person who reminded her that sometimes, all work wasn't a good thing, that she needed to loosen up and live a little at times. He could be sweet like that, and it always made Laurel's heart ache to remember all those little moments they shared together.

So yes, Laurel never really had any older siblings before. But sometimes, she wondered if the relationships she shared with Shado and Slade were like having older siblings anyway. Shado might've been around the same age as her, but she was so much wordlier, always a font of sage advice. And Slade — he was older than her, cynical and gruff but with a caring heart. He watched out for her just as much, if not more than Shado did. Both of them were the ones to teach her how to survive on this island, had been the ones to let her lean on them whenever she struggled. They didn't coddle her, they weren't afraid to let her fall and fail, but they always helped pull her back to her feet so she could try again.

She would've never made it on Lian Yu without of either of them.

So just as well, someone tried to take one of them away anyway.


The pirates bombed the forest. To draw them out, no doubt, so they could steal whatever the hell they wanted off the bodies of those dead Japanese soldiers. And Laurel, stupid, stupid Laurel, had gone out to bring Shado back inside the plane so they could be protected by the metal casing. She would've died if Slade hadn't gone outside and shielded her from one of the blasts. Now half his face was burnt off, he was dying despite Shado's best efforts, and it was all Laurel's fault.

It was only the fact that she was needed on guard duty that she didn't outright dissolve into remorse and tears. That wouldn't have been helpful at all, when there were enemies on the island ready and willing to kill them to get what they wanted. So she grabbed one of the leftover machine guns that survived the bombing on Fyers's camp, loaded it up with bullets, and stood by the entrance, practically daring someone to come after them.

When the pirates appeared, Laurel gave a few warning shots on the ground, to make it clear that she knew how to use the damn thing and that she wasn't afraid to use it on them. The pirates glared at her, each brandishing weapons of all sorts, and then suddenly the crowd parted ways to reveal an older, caucasian man that looked very un-pirate like. He was dressed casually, in a loose button shirt, a coat, and some slacks. A non-threatening appearance, but something about him just seemed slimy. Laurel saw shades of Fyers immediately, and didn't like it at all.

The man stepped forward. Laurel tensed and aimed the machine gun, causing him to hold up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Peace, I come in peace," he said. "I just want to talk."

"And why should I believe you?" Laurel demanded, still ready to attack at a moment's notice.

"They haven't attacked yet, have they? You and I both know that there are too many men here — you would've mowed down several of them, I'm sure, but eventually one of them would've gotten you in the end."

Laurel narrowed her eyes. As much as she hated it, he was right. She had a big gun, yes, but not that big, and she was only one person in the end. There was only so much she could've done before she was overwhelmed, especially with the limited amount of ammo she had. So slowly, she lowered the machine gun, careful to keep it just high enough to be used in a moment's notice, but also low enough to look like she was standing down.

Upon seeing her actions, the man smiled. "My name is Doctor Anthony Ivo," he said, introducing himself.

Ivo. She had heard of that name before. "Of Ivo Industries? One of those big technology firms in Central City?"

Ivo's smile widened. "You're well-informed. Indeed, that is my family's company. I was the CEO for a time, but I stepped down a few years ago for personal reasons."

"Reasons that led you here, to a mostly abandoned island in the middle of the North China Sea," Laurel asked slowly, skeptically. Alarm bells were ringing in her head.

"Yes. You see, my wife is dying of a terminal illness, and I'm searching for a cure. During my research, I learned of a miracle drug that was being developed by the Japanese during World War II, called the Mirakuru. It's said to have regenerative healing properties, powerful enough to just about cure or heal any sort of ailment."

Laurel had been suspicious during the start of the explanation, only to freeze at the last sentence. It's said to have regenerative healing properties, powerful enough to just about cure or heal any sort of ailment. Regeneration? It sounded like something out of a science fiction novel. But if it was true… "How about a half-burned face? Could it heal that?" she asked, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice and just barely succeeding.

"Potentially," Ivo said neutrally, though his eyes alighted with interest. He was no doubt thinking about seizing the opening Laurel had offered him. "Why do you ask?"

"One of my friends was struck during your bombing of the forest. He's badly injured, and my other friend says he doesn't have much time," the young woman explained. "We'll help you find the Mirakuru, but only if you let us use one of the samples on him to heal him."

The doctor hummed, narrowing his eyes. "A tempting offer. The problem is, we don't exactly know where the Mirakuru is. Supposedly, the coordinates to the Japanese sub where it was being developed are etched into this." He pilfered through one of his jacket pockets and took out a photo of an arrowhead. Laurel stiffened when she saw it; it was the Hozen, the one Shado had taken from those Japanese soldiers to use as a memento for her father.

"You recognize it," Ivo noted upon seeing the expression on Laurel's face. "Tell me something — what is stopping me from killing you and all your friends right now and taking it for myself?"

Shit. She needed to think fast. There really wasn't anything stopping him at all — he had them outnumbered and outgunned. Even if Laurel held them off long enough for her friends to escape, Slade was in no condition to move on his own, and Shado would never abandon him or Laurel. Think, Laurel, think!

"How many men have you lost since you arrived on the island?" she suddenly blurted out, mind in overdrive. For a moment she wondered what she was thinking, but then her mind began to clear. It was a longshot, but… "Not to us, I mean. But to other dangers. Here, on Lian Yu."

Ivo pursed his lips, eyes narrowed. He remained silent.

"Surely you triggered one or two of the landmines," Laurel continued, swallowing.

"What exactly are you proposing?"

"My friend and I — we'll guide you through the island and to the sub. We've been living on this island for almost a year, we know the terrain like the back of our hands. In return, you let us use one of the Mirakuru samples on our other friend so we can save his life." Laurel chanced a small smile. "Our goals align. There's no reason for us to be enemies, right?"

"…right," Ivo agreed, smiling back insincerely. "You have a deal."

Laurel didn't outwardly celebrate, but she did release a small, internal breath of relief. Disaster averted, at least for now. She lowered the machine gun so it was at her side, grateful that the danger had passed, but didn't let it go completely. She wasn't that stupid, after all.

But then Ivo approached her so they were standing face-to-face, close enough to speak so no one could overhear. "I'll let you and your friends guide us to the sub. But let me make this clear — if that sub doesn't have any Mirakuru on it, we are going to have a big, big problem."

The threat was clear. Laurel shivered.


Starling City

Oliver didn't like visiting the Glades. No matter how prosperous the rest of the city seemed to get, this particular neighborhood always seemed to remain as impoverished and crime-ridden as ever, if not worse. All this, despite the efforts of several charities and philanthropists throughout the city (including Oliver's godmother Rebecca Merlyn, God rest her soul) to improve the conditions there. It was almost like someone was deliberately keeping everything here as terrible as possible.

It made him wonder why his father wanted him to come out here. As far as he was aware, Robert had very little to do with the Glades ever since he made the decision to shut down the steel factory located here and relocate it to China. QC still made regular donations to the charities that worked in the neighborhood, but that was as far as they went. Neither of his parents, nor his godfather, Tommy's dad Malcolm, liked to speak of the neighborhood much ever since Aunt Rebecca died there.

And yet, here he was. Just who was Kazumi Adachi that his father insisted he come out here to visit? Some kind of secret relative or something? Maybe a blackmailer? Or perhaps just an old friend that was going to reveal he had some kind of mystic heritage or something. That one was probably a bit out of the left field, but hey — stranger things had happened.

Finally, he pulled up to the Adachi residence: one of the better-looking apartment complexes near the edge of the neighborhood. It was still rather rundown, but it was livable, which is probably all that mattered to the residents that lived there. Oliver got out of his car, careful to lock it so nobody could think to steal it while he was gone, and then walked to the front of the building, where the call apparatus was. He picked the button that had the number of the Adachis' apartment, and waited to be let inside.

After a moment, the front door clicked open. He pushed through, walking through the hall and up the stairs to the second floor. Finally, he arrived at Apartment 2G, and rung the doorbell. There were the sound of footsteps, and then a middle-aged but still fairly attractive Japanese woman with long hair opened the door. Her eyes widened upon seeing Oliver, before, to his shock, narrowing into a venemous glare. "What are you doing here?" she demanded rudely.

A little unbalanced by the unexpected cold reception, Oliver gulped. "Kazumi Adachi? My name is Oliver Queen."

"I know who you are," Kazumi told him flatly. "So again — why are you here?"

Okay, what was this woman's problem? "Well, you see, my father Robert Queen was recently declared legally dead after his ship capsized about eight months ago. My mother and I just finished the will reading with our attorney yesterday, and it turns out my father left a letter for me, asking me to come here to speak to you and your daughter Emiko. He said there was something I needed to learn from you both."

Kazumi scowled, and then barked something in Japanese to the inside of the apartment. There were more footsteps and then a young woman, who seemed to be about a few years younger than Oliver, trotted up to them. Emiko Adachi, no doubt. She had a strong resemblance to her mother, but there was something about her that seemed familiar. When she was closer and got a good look at Oliver, her eyes widened.

"Hello Emiko," Oliver greeted the younger woman, with a charming smile and an outreached hand. "My name is Oliver. It's nice to meet you."

To his surprise, Emiko wasn't taken by his smile like most people were. Instead, she adopted a neutral look as she nodded. She didn't take Oliver's hand. After a few awkward moments, it became obvious she wasn't going to, so he pulled his hand back. "So," he started, clearing his throat. "Do either of you know why my dad asked me to come here?"

The older Adachi smirked. "Emiko here is my daughter."

Oliver nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"She is also Robert's daughter."

And just like that, the world just stopped.

"What?" The son of Robert Queen nearly shouted in disbelief. "That—No. No way. My father would never—"

He was cut off by Kazumi reaching over to the side and taking a photo frame from the side table beside the front door. She all but slammed it into Oliver's chest, forcing him to take it before it fell to the ground. "Is that enough proof for you?" she asked, bitterly sarcastic.

Oliver slowly lifted the frame to see the photo inside. It was a picture of Kazumi and a much younger Emiko at a park. And there, standing right next to them, holding Emiko much like he would Thea at times, was his father Robert. Robert's son stared at the photo for a long moment, trying not to faint.

Instead, he turned to the side of the door frame, and banged his head against it with a groan.


Oliver left the Adachi residence in a daze, his head swirling with so much new information and his heart filled with even more conflicting emotions. He didn't even bother driving back home, like he originally planned. Instead, he continued mindlessly cruising around the city until it was time to meet Tommy and Sara for dinner at The Palm. He honestly didn't even remember getting to the restaurant and being seated with his friends a private booth, but then Tommy was snapping his fingers in his face and that's when Oliver finally came to.

"You alright, buddy?" Tommy asked him, concerned.

"Yeah, Ollie, you've been kind of out of it tonight," Sara added.

The third of their trio sighed. "You know how we had the reading for my dad's will yesterday, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, he left me some things he wanted me to do. Finishing his unfinished business, you could say. One of those things involved me meeting this woman named Kazumi Adachi in the Glades, along with her daughter Emiko." Oliver cringed. "It turns out Kazumi was one of my father's old mistresses. And Emiko is my half-sister."

One could've heard a pin drop at their table. "Holy shit," Sara said, eyes wide.

"You're kidding me, right?" Oliver's other friend demanded. Tommy held Robert up on a pedestal, much like Oliver did.

"I wish," Oliver claimed, putting a hand to his forehead. "They had photos of him spending time with them. As a family."

Sara shook her head in disbelief. "A second family. Unbelievable. And you're only finding out about this now?"

"Sorta. I knew my father wasn't always faithful to my mother, but now I'm wondering if I had rose-colored glasses for their marriage. I mean, cheating on my mother with the occasional mistress is one thing, but a second family? Behind all our backs?"

"It makes you wonder — if he's so ashamed of them, why didn't he keep them a secret even after he was dead?" Tommy wondered. "Why did he send you to them?"

"So I could help them," Oliver revealed. "The reason they live in the Glades is because my father abandoned them several years ago and stopped supporting them financially. And that's because my mother found out about them and threatened to divorce him and take Thea and I away if he didn't."

His female best friend frowned. "I gotta be honest Ollie, that was cold of your mom."

The Queen scion nodded glumly. "I know. I understand why she was angry, but it was still no reason to let them live in poverty. It seemed my dad agreed, because in the second letter he left me, one that he instructed me to read after meeting the Adachis, he asked me to give them a trust of twenty million dollars so they can finally get out of the Glades and restart their lives somewhere else."

Tommy and Sara exchanged looks. "Are you going to do it?" His other best friend asked him seriously.

"I am," Oliver confirmed. "Kazumi might be at fault for willingly having an affair with a married man, and my dad might be at fault for cheating on my mom, but Emiko is innocent of all that. She's my sister. She deserves to have a small portion of what dad left for us, even if it's only just to take care of herself and live comfortably." He swallowed, his eyes a little distant. "She shouldn't have to suffer for her parents' mistakes."

"She shouldn't," Sara agreed. "You're doing the right thing, Ollie."

"Yeah," Tommy followed. He smirked. "Look at you, all mature."

For the first time since learning the truth about the Adachis, Oliver smiled. "Yeah, I guess. And just when are you finally going to grow up, Tommy?"

"Never," his friend declared.

The three of them laughed at that, and already Oliver could feel his heart begin to lighten. Even so, his thoughts couldn't help but go back to what he had just learned, and what it meant, especially regarding his parents' marriage. He remembered what he had learned yesterday, that his mother had started dating again. Oliver had rebuked her for that decision, calling it too soon. Now, it just made him wonder.

Maybe the reason why his mother had been able to let go of his father so easily is because she had never loved Robert as much as Oliver had loved Laurel. Oliver had never treated Laurel as well as he should have, but at least he had the excuse of being not in his right mind most of the time, as poor as it was. But his father — he had willingly cheated on his mother time and again, carrying several long-term affairs. One of them long enough to have a child with, to play family with. It was almost inconceivable to think of, and yet Oliver had met the proof only mere hours ago.

How was he supposed to reconcile with any of that? To make peace with that, knowing his father was dead and couldn't give his side of the story? He nearly shuddered as he remembered Samantha, remembered how close he was to making the same error Robert did. Had that child been born, would he have made the same mistake as his father and kept it a secret, letting his relationship with Laurel continue and keeping her blissfully unaware, hoping she'd never find out? Or would he have told her immediately, and risked ruining his relationship with her for good? It seemed Oliver knew what he would be talking about with his therapist next week, and he could only hope Dr. Anne Green could help him move past it.

For now, he'd just have to hope his father wasn't hiding any other secrets.

Notes:

Uh, Oliver, about that…

Anyway, Laurel meets Ivo and thanks to her experiences with Fyers, can immediately tell what a scumbag he is. Unfortunately, much like Fyers, he still has the upper hand over her and it's taking all her quick thinking just to keep up. And of course, she learns about the Mirakuru and is thinking — yes, a way to save Slade! Needless to say, she's going to regret this later on.

As for Oliver, he meets Kazumi and Emiko. I got to say, I loved writing bitchy, sassy Kazumi. She's legit bitter about making the stupid mistake of falling for a married man who didn't care about her and their daughter more than he did his privileged lifestyle. And it's understandable why, even if it's wrong of her to take it out on Oliver.

Meanwhile, Oliver has to deal with the pedestal his father was on breaking, along with the reality that his parents' marriage was far more broken than he originally thought. And he's having a hard time dealing with it. Learning from this experience will be very important to his character development, and help him grow as a person. And, well, it's going to have an effect on Laurel's future as BC, in an inadvertent way.

Next Chapter: Laurel and friends search for the Mirakuru.

Chapter 8: The Mirakuru

Summary:

Laurel and Shado search for the Mirakuru with Ivo and his men in hopes of saving Slade's life.

Meanwhile, Moira goes about her day, and makes an important decision regarding her personal life.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Lian Yu

"I'm still not sure about this."

Laurel looked around, careful to make sure nobody was listening in too closely, before leaning forward to whisper back to Shado. "What choice do we have? He was going to kill all of us if I didn't make that deal."

"And what's to stop him from killing us anyway once he has what he wants?" Shado hissed back.

Her friend didn't say anything in response. Nothing. There was nothing stopping Ivo, and they both knew it. And they both had good enough instincts to know that was exactly what Ivo would do the moment the Mirakuru seemed certain to be in his grasp.

"Are we even sure this miracle drug will work?"

The younger woman shrugged helplessly, and glanced at Slade in worry. Their injured friend was leaning against a log, resting, so still that it was only the rise and fall of his chest that indicated he was still alive. He didn't have much time left. "We don't," Laurel admitted, turning back to Shado. "But we've got nothing else to lose."

Shado swallowed upon hearing those words and gave Slade a worried glance herself. Then she returned her gaze to Laurel and nodded in agreement. Before they could speak any more, Ivo announced it was time to move — they had all the supplies needed to make the trip.

"Time to prove your worth," he said to Laurel with a smirk as the pirates began to move. Laurel narrowed her eyes but didn't say anything in response — they both knew who had the power here, and it wasn't her. Instead, she went back to Slade and helped Shado pick him up so he could hang onto them using their shoulders. Hopefully, they would find the Mirakuru soon.

After that… well, they'd cross that bridge when they got to it.


It wasn't long before they came across their first landmine. Laurel saw the slight raise of the land, the imprint that indicated one was there, and quickly called out a warning. When it looked like the pirate wasn't going to heed it, she hastily let go of Slade's arm and rushed forward, pulling the pirate away using the back of his shirt. She had to dodge a swing from his machete in the process.

"What is it?" Ivo asked, as Laurel held up her hands defensively.

Instead of answering, she slowly crouched down and picked up a small rock. She tossed it towards the landmine with moderate force, grateful the pirates had been smart enough to give the area a wide berth after she intervened, and watched as it struck the ground. A second later, the landmine blew, spraying dirt over all of them.

As the smoke subsided, Laurel gave Ivo a pointed look. The doctor gave a conceding nod, and gestured her forward. It seemed she would be leading the way now. Glancing back at Shado, whose expression was worried, if approving, Laurel inhaled a deep breath, and kept her eyes and ears peeled. If even one of the pirates died on their way to the Mirakuru, then it would be all their heads.

There were more landmines, and even the occasional booby trap. But even with those obstacles, they were making good time thanks to Laurel's, and occasionally Shado's, warnings. It wasn't long until they happened upon a small lake connected to the ocean — and the abandoned Japanese submarine that supposedly held their salvation.

Upon the sight of the submarine, the entire group stopped and stared, with Shado slowly walking up next to Laurel with the languishing Slade still on her shoulders. Ivo looked particularly entranced. Laurel gulped, and slid her hand into her pack, fingering the little backup plan she had stored there. She had a feeling she would need it soon.

"Thank you for helping bring us here," Ivo finally said, turning to them. He still had that wide, insincere smile on his face. "Because of that, I'll be sure to give the three of you a quick death."

Before the pirates began to raise their weapons, Laurel was already turning around, removing the trigger from the grenade she had kept in her bag throughout the trip. One of those little gifts that Fyers had left for them after his death. "NOW, SHADO!" she yelled. Had she looked back, she would've noticed her friend had already started running towards the sub with Slade in tow.

Laurel tossed the grenade towards Ivo, who scrambled away from both her and the sub the moment he realized what she was doing. The rest of the pirates followed, while Laurel ran in the opposite direction, towards Shado. The other woman had already wrenched the top of the submarine open, and Laurel soon joined her as they quickly loaded Slade inside, before slipping in themselves. The grenade finally detonated the moment Laurel closed the submarine door behind her.

"Lock it!" Shado ordered her as she found a comfortable place to set Slade down. "I'll try to find the Mirakuru." She started opening the medical cabinets, ruffling through all the near-ancient supplies inside.

Meanwhile, Laurel started twisting the wheel attached to the hatch with all her might, feeling a sense of satisfaction when she heard the telltale click of the mechanism locking into place. It wouldn't hold off Ivo and his men forever, but it would stand strong long enough for her and her friends to figure out a new plan when it was time for them to get off the sub.

"I found it!"

The American climbed down to meet with her friend, who opened a wooden box to reveal several syringes of green liquid. "I need to sterilize the needle," Shado decided. "Laurel, you get him comfortable. Open up his shirt. We'll need to inject it in a vein near his heart if this is going to work."

As the her Chinese counterpart headed towards an open surface and took out a lighter, Laurel went to Slade and began gently sitting him upright in a more comfortable position. "Laurel…" The man said quietly, stilted.

"Don't speak. You need to keep your energy," she said soothingly as she worked his vest.

"There's… something I need… to tell you…" Slade was rambling now. "Something… I should… have told you a long time ago…"

"Tell me later," Laurel told him, now unbuttoning his shirt.

He actually had to gall to laugh. "I'm dying, Laurel—"

It took all of Laurel's self-control not to rip his shirt apart. "No," Laurel said, her stubbornness coming through. "You are not dying. The Mirakuru will work. You'll heal up just fine, and all of us will be okay. The three of will then get off this island, together, alive. Like we always planned. Alright?"

"…Alright."

They didn't speak any further. Shado had finished sterilizing the needle and cooling it. "Keep him still, okay?" she told Laurel, crouching down to press against Slade's skin to find a vein. Finally, she found it, and pressed the tip of the needle against it. However, she didn't push just yet, instead flicking her gaze up to meet her dying friend's.

"Do it," Slade told her. It seemed he had resigned himself to the outcome, whatever it would be.

Shado slowly nodded, and pushed. The two women watched intently as the drug slowly left the syringe and entered their friend bloodstream with bated breath. Once all the Mirakuru was gone, Shado pulled the needle away and quickly pressed a bandage against the injection point. Then, Laurel and her just waited.

First, there was nothing.

And then, there was screaming. Slade roared to the empty air of the sub, tears of blood pouring down his face. He thrashed and seized as his friends did their best to settle him down. But nothing they did work — the fit continued on, seemingly forever. And then it just stopped, with Slade collapsing backwards, not moving at all. Completely unresponsive.

Laurel and Shado stared. Slowly, Shado pressed two fingers against Slade's neck, trying to feel his pulse. Even though she knew it was coming, Laurel couldn't hold back the choked sob when her now only friend sadly shook her head. The two women turned to each other and embraced, both in tears.


They didn't get to mourn for long. A suddenly clang! broke through their weeping, the sound reverberating throughout the entire submarine. It didn't take them long to figure out who it was. "Ivo," Laurel cursed.

"What are we going to do?" Shado asked her, glancing around the submarine in hopes of finding something that could help them. "He'll kill us for sure."

Laurel glanced back at Slade's dead body, biting her lip, before her gaze followed from him to something else: the box. "He's here for the Mirakuru," she reminded her companion. "We can use that as leverage to make him spare our lives."

"But if we just give it to him, then we'll have nothing."

Shado was right. Leverage was only useful if you had more than one piece of it. But maybe… "Shado, when you were looking through all the medicine cabinets, did you find any empty syringes?"

Her friend stared at her for a moment, confused, before her eyes lit up. "I did," she confirmed, already getting up to go find them. "What about the Mirakuru?"

"I've got a small box in my pack to store things," Laurel told her, quickly rifling inside her bag to find it. "I'll just dump everything out and keep the syringes there. Then you fill the empty ones with liquid and put them in the box so Ivo won't get suspicious. He won't realize what we've done until he gets back to his ship."

"He still might just kill us," Shado noted even as she went to comply with Laurel's instructions.

"Maybe," Laurel agreed. "But better to have a contingency, just in case."

Her friend hummed but didn't disagree. They rushed through their actions, with Laurel quickly emptying her box, somewhere where Ivo or his men wouldn't see the mess she left behind, while Shado started filling syringes. The Mirakuru was quickly transferred to the smaller box and then stored into Laurel's pack, while Shado filled the original box with the fakes. By the time they were done, the banging had gotten louder.

Finally, the submarine door was busted open. Ivo was there, along with two of his men. Laurel grasped the box of 'Mirakuru' like a lifeline, holding it in front of her chest while angling herself slightly in front of Shado. The doctor quickly zeroed in on her and the box, and smiled.


They were dragged out of the sub and into the charred clearing, still slightly smoking from the grenade Laurel had detonated. The moment the women touched the ground, they found themselves surrounding by the pirates. Ivo walked around them to stand at the head of the group, clasping his hands behind his back as he smiled placidly. "I'm sorry about your friend. I guess the Mirakuru didn't work on him?"

Both remained silent. Laurel's lip quivered, but she refused to let any of these men see her break. That's what Slade would've wanted her to do.

"Tell me something — why shouldn't I kill you both right now?" Ivo was speaking calmly, but one could practically hear the seething rage between his tranquil tone.

"Because of this," Laurel said, holding up the box. "It has what you want. I'll let you have it, as long as you let us go."

"You don't want it for yourselves?" He sounded surprised.

"It couldn't save Slade," Shado replied, gripping her bow. She had drawn it and notched an arrow the moment they had been surrounded. "It's useless to us now."

"I see." Ivo made a show of thinking it over. "Very well. I accept your offer. Now hand it over."

Laurel slowly stepped forward, holding out the box. The doctor snatched it away from her greedily, caressing it like it was some long-awaited treasure. Then he turn and began to walk away.

But the pirates didn't.

"Ivo!" Laurel shouted, confusion and desperation clear.

"Don't worry. I'm keeping my end of the deal. You two will get to live — my men haven't seen a woman in a long time, after all. The two of you are sure to provide them some much needed stress relief."

Bastard. Just like Fyers. Laurel drew out her knife as Shado began aiming her arrow. The two maneuvered themselves so they were standing back-to-back, facing their encroaching enemies and preparing to fight them off. Like hell was Laurel going let Ivo's men have their way with her or Shado. Not without a fight, at least.

Just as the first man was about to lunge, however, there was suddenly another clang and then a downright inhuman roar that echoed across the clearing. Every eye turned towards the submarine, where a very much alive Slade Wilson was standing, completely intact and all his injuries healed. Laurel and Shado stared up at him at shock and then in overwhelming joy as he descended upon the ground and began attacking the pirates.

He grabbed one of the men, twisting his arm before throwing him several feet away with insane strength. Another pirate tried to attack him from behind, only for Slade to dodge the blow easily and twist his neck, breaking it. After another pirate got a hand through his stomach, that's when it finally began to dawn on them how completely outgunned they were. The pirates turned tail and fled, following their employer, who had long since left the vicinity once he saw Slade's new super strength.

The Australian growled and made to follow them, only to stop when he heard Laurel's voice. "Slade?"

He turned around. Laurel and Shado stared at their friend in disbelief, before grins broke out on both their faces. "Slade!" They ran to their friend and jumped on him, initiating an impromptu group hug. "You're alive!"

"The Mirakuru worked!" Shado exclaimed, relieved.

Slade rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I guess it did. Just took a little bit to kickstart."

"Well, better late than never," Laurel proclaimed. She lifted her hand to the caress the side of Slade's now unmarred face. "Are you alright?"

Slade gently took her hand, his eyes bright and intense. "I'm fine, Laurel," he said. His gaze was completely focused on her, not that she noticed. "I promise."

Laurel beamed.


Starling City

"…so, Doug Miller is your recommended candidate for the position?"

"Yes," Moira confirmed, nodding. "He's the most qualified. Prior to joining Queen Consolidated, he was one of the leading scientific minds of LexCorp. He has more than enough scientific acumen to lead the Applied Sciences Division. I'm sure once you see his resume, you'll agree."

Walter Steele, the newly-minted CEO of Queen Consolidated, nodded. The duo moved onto another topic, going over status reports from the company and other proposals. By the time they had gotten through their agenda, over two hours had passed. Moira rolled her shoulders a bit as she got to her feet, stretching her arms and legs. A person was not meant to sit in an uncomfortable office chair for so long.

"Thank you, again, for all your hard work Walter," Moira told the man as he got up to walk her to his office door. "The company would not be managing as well as it had these last couple of months if it hadn't been for you."

"Your welcome, Moira, but again, I was only doing my job. Your gratitude is appreciated but unnecessary." He paused for a moment, and then began speaking again, this time much more familiarly. "I must admit, however, that I enjoyed our date earlier this week."

Moira blushed. "As did I," she admitted back.

The British native rubbed the back of his neck. "I do not want to rush you. It hasn't been a year since Robert's death, and I'm still mourning him, if not as much as you and your family have been. And I know our outing was just a way of you showing your gratitude. However, I must say that I wouldn't mind having another such outing with you." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "If you're fine with that, of course."

Her blush deepening, Moira gave Walter a small, tentative smile. "I am perfectly fine with that," the widow told him. "I greatly enjoy your company. However, I must ask that if we do end up embarking on a relationship, we should keep it a secret for now. Oliver did not react well to learning I was possibly dating again, and Thea might not react well to the idea of it either. It will take time for them to reconcile with the possibility of me being with someone other than their father."

"That is perfectly understandable," Walter said, nodding. "I would hate to make your children upset."

This only caused Moira's smile to widen. "Thank you, Walter." She leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek, before heading to the door. Like the gentleman he was, Walter opened it for her, giving her a small wave that she returned as she exited the office. He then closed the door behind her, and then leaned against it with a wistful sigh.


Moira's good mood lasted up until she made it to Table Salt, whereupon she was reminded of her current situation. The real reason she had decided she didn't want to take up the position of CEO of Queen Consolidated. Putting on her best 'queenly' expression (pun unintended), she waited until her car came to a stop and her driver opened the door. She stepped out, inhaling a deep breath, before making her way towards the door, where the hostess was waiting for her.

Table Salt was one of Starling's high-end establishment, on par with the Palm. It provided tailored menus that catered to the city's elite and their refined palates, along with private dining rooms and five-star service. It was the kind of place where the rich and powerful brokered those unknown deals and arrangements that helped shaped the world into what it was today. Fitting, considering who she was meeting with.

Moira was guided to one of the private rooms, where her dining companion was already waiting: Malcolm Merlyn. Careful to keep her distaste hidden, she was seated across from Malcolm, offered a menu as her drink order was taken. As the waiter walked away and left the room, Moira gazed down at her menu, and began to speak. "It's done. I've impressed upon Walter that Doug Miller should be the new Director of Applied Sciences, and he's inclined to agree. I'm sure the announcement will be made soon."

"Good," Malcolm said, satisfied. "I'm glad that your claims were vindicated, Moira. Just because you are no longer the main custodian of the Queen fortune does not mean that you, and by extension Queen Consolidated, cannot serve Tempest as needed."

Moira flicked her eyes upwards. "It is as I said. Oliver is unlikely to take much interest in the company for the time being. He intends to go back to college for an undergraduate business degree, and then graduate school for an MBA, so he can prepare himself for a role there in the future. By the time he does, however, it'll be long after the Undertaking. Until then, all he'll do is inquire about the general prosperity of QC — there shouldn't be anything that will pique his interest to intervene personally."

Malcolm smiled. Moira hated that smile. "That is good to hear as well. And I'm glad Oliver is finally taking the initiative to make something of himself. I can only wish Tommy will one day do the same."

His expression then turned conniving. "Speaking of Tommy, I heard something interesting from him during our last talk. He said you might be dating again."

The Queen matriarch stiffened. "And what if I am? Will that be an issue?"

"Of course not. You are free to do whatever you wish with your personal life, as long as it doesn't interfere with the Undertaking."

"It won't."

Her tormentor (because that was what he was, no matter how much he tried to present himself as otherwise) looked please. "I'm glad. Keep up the good work, Moira. We wouldn't want anything to happen to Oliver or Thea, or perhaps your new boyfriend, would we?"

Moira swallowed, her mind briefly flashing to Walter. "No. We wouldn't," she agreed.

Notes:

I like this chapter a lot because it shows how much Laurel has grown and changed during her time on Lian Yu. Instead of Slade or Shado taking charge, this time it's her turn to do so since she's the one matching wits with Ivo. Part of that is because with Slade injured and Shado caring for him, she's the only one with capacity to do so since she's primarily focused on protecting them while they're distracted. Another reason is because Laurel was planning on becoming lawyer before all this, so structuring arguments to attain her goals is something she's used to.

As for Slade, the reason why Laurel and Shado didn't panic at the sight of him is because they had no reason to, unlike Oliver and Sara. Laurel is the one Slade is in love with, and Laurel is very much alive so Shado doesn't run the risk of facing the brunt of Slade's rage. Not to mention, the guys he gimped were about to sexually assault them, so his super strength and brutal destruction were very much welcome.

Now, we get a look at how Moira's doing, and see that her relationship with Walter has started a bit earlier than it did in canon. Since Oliver didn't die with Robert, Moira didn't quite close herself off as much and had a relatively easier time moving on from her grief. The fact that she had two children to protect from Malcolm is a part of that. On the other hand, because Oliver is alive and home, Moira's relationship with Walter is being kept on the down low and moving at a slower pace because she doesn't want to upset him — and because she realizes if her relationship with Walter goes public, Malcolm will just have another hostage against her to use.

Next Chapter: Laurel and co. begin planning their attack on the Amazo.

Chapter 9: The Great Escape

Summary:

Laurel learns of Slade's new abilities, and with her friends, makes a daring plan to capture Ivo's ship.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Lian Yu

"I'm not sure about this," Laurel said as she carefully aimed the gun, pointing it to where Slade's thigh was. Not near the artery, obviously, a non-lethal spot, but one that would hurt if it struck. "What if we're wrong?"

"Then I'll just be sidelined for a bit," Slade claimed as he prepared himself for the shot. "While we wait for the wound to heal. We've already confirmed I have high-speed regeneration, so it won't be long."

"Not just that, but also super strength and super speed," Shado counted off, smirking. "You're like a real-life superhero."

Realizing she wasn't going to win this argument, Laurel sighed. "Fine. Get ready."

Shado moved out of shooting range while Slade tensed and prepared himself. Laurel pulled the trigger, wincing as the bullet escaped from the gun chamber and hit Slade directly in the leg. The man didn't even flinch. Laurel lowered the gun as Shado darted back to Slade and looked at where the bullet had struck. "Not even so much as a bruise," she declared.

At that, Laurel released another a sigh, this time of relief. "So high-speed regeneration, super strength, super speed, and super durability," she listed out her friend's new abilities. "A super serum. Like Captain America."

"The comic book character?" Slade asked, as Shado stood back up.

The American nodded. "In the comics, he gets his abilities after being injected with some kind of super serum. Though all it did was make him constantly at the peak of physical and mental human condition. You're explicitly superhuman."

Shado arched an eyebrow. "And you know this because…?"

"Tommy's a huge fan of comic books," Laurel admitted, blushing slightly.

Slade exchanged a look with Shado and shrugged, before his expression turned serious. "So what now?"

Laurel's face darkened. "Ivo will come back for us once he realizes the box is filled with fakes. Either to take his revenge or to see if we kept the Mirakuru with us."

"Did we?"

"We did," Shado confirmed, as Laurel took the box where she had stored the drug out of her pack and unlatched it open, revealing the syringes filled with growing green liquid. "We switched them out with the fakes just in case for more leverage. And now that we know it works, we can also use it if we get severely injured like you did."

The ASIS agent seemed memorized as he stared down at the syringes, picking one up and fingering it carefully. He stared for so long that both Laurel and Shado began to get uncomfortable; the latter cleared her throat, catching Slade's attention. Once she had it, she continued speaking. "I suggest that we don't for Ivo to come to us," she told them. "Instead, we should go to Ivo."

"You're saying we should hijack the ship?"

"Yes," Shado confirmed, nodding towards Laurel. "With Slade's abilities, it'll be child's play for us to take out enough of the pirates to bring the rest to heel. Once we kill Ivo, we can claim the ship for ourselves and use it and its crew to sail us back to the mainland."

Meaning, they could finally leave Lian Yu behind them for good. Laurel nearly became giddy at the thought of it. "You up for it?" she asked Slade, knowing they needed to be in agreement if this was going to work.

Her friend gave her a savage grin. "You mean taking it to the man who tried to harm my two favorite girls? Certainly."

And with that final word, they began to plan.


It took them the rest of the day to hatch a solid plan to claim the ship. First, they had to do reconnaissance on where it had been docked, and how to get on it. Once they confirmed the ship's location, they documented the rest of the environment to see if there was any easy way to sneak on. Realizing that there wasn't — and not wanting to risk a full-frontal assault, even with Slade's newfound prowess — they started a brainstorming session, hoping for some out-of-the-box idea instead. Eventually, Shado remembered the old tents and tarps that were still intact from Fyers's camp, and suggested they 'parachute' their way onto the ship, using Lian Yu's strong winds.

They had pilfered everything that could be even remotely useful from Fyers's camp after the man died and they had killed his remaining stragglers. Anything that could help them survive. This included the tents and some thread, so they got to stitching the makeshift parachute together, working through the night and in shifts. The longer they took, the more likely it was Ivo was going to return with his full forces in an attempt to overwhelm them and claim the Mirakuru.

Finally, come morning, they were done. They allowed themselves the rest of the day to gather their things and rest. As night approached, Slade took out something to celebrate — his last bottle of rum. "A toast to us finally getting the hell off this island," he declared, passing Laurel and Shado some shot glasses. He poured each of them a little alcohol, and they clinked their glasses before each taking a sip.

"So what are you going to do when you get home?" Laurel asked Shado once they were done.

"Find my sister, and tell her what happened to our father. I'm not sure about what happens after that, but she deserves to know the truth," Shado explained. "What about you? Finally going to law school?"

"Maybe," Laurel said, frowning as she pawed at her pack, where the List still was. "I think that can wait, though. I need to know who sabotaged the Gambit and tried to kill Robert first. Nobody I care about is really safe until the person responsible is found and held accountable for their crimes."

"Making sure all your enemies are eliminated before you even consider letting your guard down," Slade mused. He smiled at Laurel. "We've taught you well."

"Yeah, you have," Laurel agreed, blushing. She looked between Slade and Shado both, setting down her glass to take both of their hands and giving them an affectionate squeeze. "Thank you, both of you. For everything. I know it wasn't easy in the beginning."

Shado shrugged, and smiled back. "Maybe not at first, but you picked up everything quick. I'm sure if my father and Robert were here, they'd be proud of you. I know we are."

The young woman nodded, and turned back to Slade. "What about you Slade? You'll get to see your wife and son soon. I bet you're looking forward to that."

For some reason, this caused Slade to freeze for a moment. He turned to Laurel and gave her a fixed smile. "I am," he admitted. "Though I'm not sure if I'm going to continue working for the ASIS. After the last few years, I'm not really up for black ops work anymore."

"Oh?" Laurel blinked. Next to her, Shado also gave Slade a surprised look. "Then I guess more time for the family then?"

"Yeah, but I think I'm first going to Starling to help you nab whoever sabotaged the Gambit. If you don't mind, of course," he quickly added the last part.

"Really?" Behind Laurel, Shado gave Slade two thumbs up while Laurel herself beamed up at him. "That's kind of you Slade. Thank you."

Slade smiled. "It's nothing, Laurel. Really. After everything we've been through together, we're like family. And like you, there's nothing I won't do for family."

Hearing that, Laurel tugged both of her friends together into another group hug. One more embrace before their time on the island, and soon their time together, was over. It was a bittersweet feeling, but one she welcomed all the same.


Right before they began paragliding towards the ship, Laurel gave a kiss to the medallion hanging around her neck for good luck. Everyone, I'm coming home, she promised in her mind as Shado took aim at a pile of timber dotted with explosives and loosed an arrow. The projectile hit its target perfectly, and an explosion rocked the beach, far from them but close enough for Ivo and his men to hear and check out. They watched quietly as the men began pouring out of the ship, and once the last man was out, they started preparing the parachute.

They (mainly Slade) had jumped from a few tall trees to test the parachute and made sure it work, but this would be the first time they would be using it from such a open area to a far-off location. They had only one chance at this, so they had to make it count. Laurel and Shado both latched onto Slade's side as the man took a running jump off the cliff, the parachute opening up and catching the winds as they slowly descended to the deck of Ivo's freighter.

The very moment they landed on the deck of the ship, Laurel took out her knife while Shado drew out another arrow from her quiver, her eyes shadowed out by her father's hood. Slade himself didn't bother drawing a weapon at all, just going to the nearest attacking pirate and breaking his rib cage while Laurel and Shado guarded his back.

Their plan didn't involve killing all the pirates. After all, they still needed someone to handle sailing and maintaining the ship. None of them had any knowledge or experience in that regard, nor any means of attaining either in a meaningful amount of time. However, the pirates did, and that meant they had to keep enough alive to keep the ship running. Otherwise, they were still stuck on Lian Yu.

The hitch was ensuring the pirates' "loyalty" was turned to them instead of Ivo. And the best way to do that, was to kill him. Normally, Laurel would've been queasy at the idea of a pre-meditated decision to kill another man. All her previous kills had been in self-defense or in the defense of others, after all. Under normal circumstances, what they were planning to do to the doctor was murder.

But that man had long since lost any sympathy Laurel might have had for him. Not only had he tried to murder her and her friends several times, but he had also intended to let his men rape Shado and her after they had given him the 'Mirakuru'. As far as she was concerned, this was another case of self-defense. Terminally ill wife or not, Anthony Ivo was no different from Edward Fyers, and the world would be better off without him.

After clearing the deck, they invaded the insides of the ship, heading towards the brig. When they arrived there, however, they found themselves briefly stopping their rampage in shock at what they found. Laurel nearly dropped her knife as she stared, open-mouthed, at the scene before her.

Cells. Dozens of them. Each filled with a single prisoner, dressed in threadbare clothing and clearly in pain. Most of them looked like they hadn't seen the outside world in months, if not years. Others were just rags and bones, huddling in corners. Some even seemed to be dead, judging by how still they were.

"What the hell…?" Shado trailed off, genuinely horrified.

"What would Ivo want with all these people?" Laurel wondered, aghast.

"Experiments."

The trio turned to one of the cells, where a brunette-haired man of average height but notable girth and bright blue eyes was situated. He had a grim expression on his face. "He scientist, after all," the man continued. He had a Russian accent. "Every scientist needs test subjects."

God. Ivo wasn't just as bad as Fyers, he was worse. Was all of this really for his wife? Or was that just an excuse for him to express his sadism under the guise of scientific advancement? Laurel decided it didn't matter — it was unforgivable either way, and Ivo was going to die regardless. Good riddance.

"Where is he?" Laurel asked the prisoner who had spoken to them. "We're going to kill him and take the ship, use it to get to the mainland. And we're bringing all of you with us."

Her claim didn't inspire any hope in the man. Just skepticism and cynicism. Nonetheless he pointed out a direction for them to follow. "At other end of brig. There's entrance to other side of ship. His office will be there."

"Thank you." She paused. "My name is Laurel, by the way. Laurel Lance."

"…Anatoly. Anatoly Knyazev."

Laurel nodded. "Again, thank you, Anatoly. You won't regret this." She turned to Shado and Slade. "Let's go."


They made a beeline for the entrance Anatoly told them about, Slade wrenching the door open and taking the lead. There were several doors, each one opened in hopes of finding their quarry. To Laurel's disgust, several of them seemed to be 'labs' of some sort, supporting Anatoly's claims that Ivo used them as test subjects. It killed what little regret she had for what they were about to do to the supposed good doctor; truth be told, the moment he died could not come soon enough.

Finally, they found what they believed to be Ivo's office. The man had locked it up tight, probably in a last-ditch effort to keep them out once he realized they were on his ship, but it meant nothing to Slade's Mirakuru-enhanced strength. He wrenched the metal open, slamming the door away, and was welcomed with several bullets to the chest that he dutifully ignored. From behind him, Laurel and Shado waited in the wings, ready to attack at a moment's notice.

Eventually, Ivo ran out of bullets. The moment he did, Slade grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and slammed his back against the wall. "I've been looking forward to this," the Australian snarled.

"Slade, wait!" Shado exclaimed, Laurel trailing behind her. "Not here. In the brig. That way everyone can see he's dead."

Slade narrowed his eyes, before turning to Shado with a nod. They exited the office and headed towards the direction of the brig, Slade once again taking the lead. Ivo, restrained by rope that Laurel had used to tie his wrists together, was behind him, being constantly prodded by Shado's notched arrow. A reminder that Slade wasn't the only person here that could kill him if necessary.

When they made it to the brig, the rest of the pirates, the ones Ivo had sent out, had returned to the ship. The moment they spotted Slade, they began openly firing at the intruder, each and every single one of them. Slade hardly blinked as the bullets struck him, each failing to make even the slightest amount of damage. Behind him, Laurel and Shado waited quietly with a cowering Ivo. The onslaught would stop eventually; there were only so many bullets, after all.

Finally, the hail of lead ceased. The pirates stared, terrified, when they realized they hadn't managed to make a single scratch at all on the man that had slaughtered most of their crewmates. "You done?" Slade asked, bored.

One of the pirates gathered up his courage and charged Slade, his arm high as he tried to strike the larger man with his machete. Slade grabbed the machete and flung it away, before taking him by the front of his shirt and lifting him high. He threw the man against the cells with all his strength, causing the metal to dent when his body struck it. The pirate was dead before he even hit the ground.

"Like I said before: are you done?" Slade demanded once more. This time, the pirates wisely stood down, setting their weapons on the floor and holding their hands up in surrender. Satisfied, the Australian turned to his friends and nodded towards them.

With Slade's go ahead, Shado began bullying Ivo to the center of the brig. "Wait, wait," the man began speaking, trembling. He knew he was about to die soon and was trying to find some way out of it. "You don't want to do this. I have money, you know? When we get to the mainland, I can pay you all handsomely, say that you help saved me from these pirates."

Next to Shado, Laurel snorted. "Or, more likely, you'll claim that we kidnapped you and held you hostage or something to that effect in hopes of slandering us and getting us jailed or worse," she said cynically. "After all, you're rich, white and famous. This wouldn't be the first time you've had to buy your way out of a problem. The only difference now is that this time, it won't work."

She would know. Laurel had been around rich people all her life. She had attended a top-tier private school thanks to her mother's trust fund, and her boyfriend was a member of a billionaire family. And while the Queens and the Merlyns were decent enough people, she was well aware they were the exception, not the rule.

"Come on, you've won!" Ivo shouted desperately. "Can't you show me a little bit of mercy? My wife—"

"You were going to have your men rape Laurel and I for 'stress relief'," Shado pointed out, incensed. For all her normally unshakable demeanor, it was clear even she was sick of Ivo. "You weren't going to show us any mercy, so why should we show any to you? And as for your wife, do you honestly think she'll want you back after everything you've supposedly done in her name? If she is any sort of decent person, she'll hate the man you've become. And if she isn't, then she isn't worth saving anyway. Just like you."

The words struck true. But Ivo, worm that he was, refused to give up. "Please—"

He didn't say another word. Slade grabbed him by his shoulders, and squeezed. Laurel closed her eyes and looked away, as Ivo's screams echoed throughout the brig.


After Ivo was dead, they took control of the ship. The pirates swore allegiance to them under the threat of their lives, while the prisoners agreed to cooperate with them out of gratitude. Having killed their tormentor, Laurel, Shado, and Slade might've as well been heroes in their eyes. It made Laurel uncomfortable, but as long as it meant there wouldn't be a possible mutiny down the line, she could learn to live with it.

One of the first things they did after releasing all the prisoners was collecting all the dead bodies. The corpses of Ivo and the pirates would be thrown overboard to feed the fishes, because that was the most they deserved. As for the prisoners, however, Laurel insisted they get proper burials on the island. Unlike the others, those men had been victims of Ivo, just like them.

Then, they began preparing the ship to leave. That included loading in what supplies they could take from the island. The ship's kitchen had a meat locker and a refrigerator, so Shado had gone hunting and foraging with some of the pirates and prisoners, with Slade making a clear threat that if she didn't come back intact, it would be on everyone else's heads.

While Shado was stocking up their food stores and other useful tools, Laurel went about charting out their route. She recruited Anatoly to help her, deeming him to be the most capable and intelligent of their new allies. "I want to go to China," she explained. "Shado is a Chinese citizen — she'll be able to get us through whatever bureaucratic nonsense we'll face when we get there. Then we can all head over to our respective embassies and request for help."

"What about the pirates?" Anatoly asked her. "If we go into Chinese waters, they will be arrested."

"And it wouldn't be anything less than they deserve," Laurel noted.

"They will not like that."

"They don't have a choice." Slade had made it very clear on that front, and Laurel couldn't find it in herself to care. Not after what those men had done under Ivo's direction, not after what they had been meaning to do to her and to Shado. "Besides, at least they'll still have their lives, for however long they last."

Anatoly didn't say any more on the matter. It was clear he wasn't sure this was the right course of action, but he didn't protest. Besides, he didn't care much for the pirates anyway.


The day they were finally about to disembark from Lian Yu, they hit a snag. Hendrik von Arnim, one of the prisoners, was getting rowdy thanks to friction over having to operate the ship with the pirates. He had no love for any of them due to his hatred of Ivo, and while he still willingly obeyed Slade's orders without protest, he always had a sour expression whenever interacting with one of the outlaws. Laurel couldn't exactly blame him, but he needed to swallow his pride for a bit until they could make it to China. For now, they still needed the pirates in order to properly man the ship.

Unfortunately, Hendrik didn't get the memo. She found him accosting one of the pirates, namely the navigator (aka the one person they couldn't afford to lose) in the brig after the man accidentally hit him on the way up to the main deck. "Hey! Stop it!"

She pulled Hendrik off the man and stepped in between them. "I know you're angry, and you have every right to be, but we still need him. Once we get to China, then you can do whatever you want, but for now, just try to keep calm."

Hendrik scowled. "He stood by and let Ivo torture us. That makes him just as guilty as Ivo was."

"But still—"

She didn't get to finish, because Hendrik roughly shoved her aside. Laurel hit the wall with a hiss, rubbing her now-sore shoulder, and moved to intervene again. But before she could, she found Hendrik suddenly taken away from the navigator and into an enraged Slade's hands.

"How dare you touch her!" he roared, squeezing Hendrik's neck.

Laurel stared, surprised and slightly horrified. "Slade! Slade, stop!"

But Slade didn't stop. Instead, he squeezed and squeezed as Hendrik's face turned blue. And then he wrenched the man's neck with all his might, and ripped his head right off his shoulders. Laurel could do nothing but watch, blood spraying all over her face as she stared, wide-eyed.

The body dropped in front of her, followed by the head. And there was Slade, standing above the corpse, complete madness in his eyes.


After Laurel was done vomiting out her lunch over the side of the ship, she headed directly to the bathroom and began scrubbing away at the blood, trying her best to wash it all off her. By the time she was done, Shado had returned and had heard the news. She went to confront Laurel immediately in hopes her friend would be able to deny it, only to have those hopes dashed. The same fear Laurel felt in that moment took root in her eyes, and the other woman was selfishly grateful that she was not alone in her worries.

Then they got word about Slade ordering Hendrik's remains thrown overboard instead of being properly buried like the rest of the prisoners, and got into the first real argument the three of them had in forever. "He tried to hurt you," Slade pointed out, eyes dark.

Laurel shook her head. "No, he didn't. The person he was angry at was the navigator. He just shoved me aside because I tried to stop him from attacking the guy." She swallowed. "You didn't need to kill him, Slade. You could've just… broken his arm or leg or something. That would have been enough to send a message to everyone."

But Slade dismissed her concerns. "Well, this sent an even clearer message. Now nobody will try to harm either of you. Not if they want to end up like him."

"Slade—"

"No, Laurel," Slade cut her off firmly. "It's done. It doesn't matter anymore, beyond us having one less mouth to feed. Now come on — it's almost time to for us to say goodbye to this godforsaken island."

He turned around to leave, not noticing the uneasy looks Laurel and Shado exchanged.

Notes:

I'm surprised this managed to take up an entire chapter, but I have to be honest, I have been really enjoying writing about the stuff for this year. Despite my notes being relatively short, there's so much I ended up expanding. This includes Laurel and co. taking the Amazo for themselves, and Slade's gradual descent into insanity.

Thus far, Laurel and Shado have been content to ignore Slade's brutality. Part of it is because, even before the Mirakuru, Slade was always the most brutal out of all them. Even the stuff he's doing now isn't quite removed from what he did to Fyers's men. And since all their enemies were vicious pirates that were going to violently ravish them and potentially use them as sex slaves, it's understandable why they wouldn't care. Not to mention Ivo, who lost whatever remaining sympathy they had for him after they found out about his unethical experiments. As far as they were concerned, those people deserved what they got.

A second reason is because Slade isn't quite as insane yet. Laurel is still alive, and Shado didn't 'betray' him. So they're both able to keep him in check for now. But it's a tentative check, as shown here — all it takes is one little push for the madness to come out. And both of them are slowly beginning to realize that, even if they aren't quite sure of the depths Slade is going to yet.

Next Chapter: Oliver meets with the Adachis.

Chapter 10: Choices

Summary:

Oliver visits the Adachis again, and then has a long-awaited talk with his mother.

Notes:

Sorry about the late update. Been busy at work, plus I've been busy planning out another Lauriver story. This one is considerably darker than this story, and it's almost done in the planning stages. I'm already in the midst of finishing up the Epilogue. Once that's done, I'll complete the Five Years of this story before starting on that one.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Starling City

Oliver was all nerves as his car rolled up next to the apartment complex where the Adachis resided. Now that he knew exactly who they were to him and his family, the curiosity he once felt had been turned into awkwardness. It didn't cause him to second-guess himself, but it did cause his resolve to weaken. Did he really have to do this today? It had only been just yesterday when Jean had finalized the creation of the trust and the transfer of funds. When he had revealed the reasons for his actions, she hadn't been surprised in the least; there was no secret the Queens kept that she didn't know about.

After a moment of thought, he sighed and opened the door. Yes, he did have to do it today. Because if he didn't do it now, then he would never get around to doing it at all. He would just keep on finding different reasons to put it off, dawdling while the understandable resentment the Adachis had for his family and him grew. Better to just rip off the bandage now so he wouldn't forget and let it come back to haunt him later down the line.

He tapped the button to their apartment and waited quietly at the steps for that telltale buzz. Once he was inside, he walked up the stairs to the second floor, and rang the doorbell. Just like before, there were footsteps, and the door opened. This time, however, he wasn't met with Kazumi, but Emiko. His younger sister.

Another sister. Who wasn't Thea.

Goddamit, Dad. "Hello, Emiko," Oliver said, smiling lightly. "May I come in?"

Emiko pursed her lips, clearly not pleased to see him, before turning her head to the side. "MOM! HE'S BACK!"

The Queen heir prepared himself for Kazumi's acid tongue, and not a moment too soon because the older woman had marched up to the door with a snarl on her face. "What do you want? Here to force a restraining order on us? Or maybe you bought the building so you can kick us out of our apartment and leave us on the streets?" she spat out.

Oliver swallowed, holding the papers in his arms tightly. It's clear whatever confrontation Kazumi had with his parents when his mother had found out about his father's second family had not been pretty. "Can I come inside? There's something we need to discuss. Something important."

Kazumi scowled, but gave a nod to her daughter. Emiko opened the door wider and stepped aside to let him in, to which he nodded his thanks. The moment he was inside, he got a good look at the apartment, and frowned. It wasn't one of the worst apartments in the Glades, but it was clearly rundown and old. There was a chill in the air, and a small, old plug-in heater that suggested they didn't have built-in heat. All in all, a difficult existence, especially compared to the privileged lives the Queens lived.

No wonder they hate our family. It was only more proof that what he was about to do was the right thing.

He was guided to what passed for the living room, an old-patched together couch and a similarly worn chair. The Adachis took the couch while he was given the chair. Oliver grimaced as he sat down, feeling some of the old springs, before setting down the papers on the coffee table. "What are these?" Kazumi asked the moment she saw them, the suspicion pouring out of her. "An NDA?"

Oliver shook his head. "No. This is paperwork to transfer the ownership of the trust I created for both of you. Just sign it and the trust will be yours."

Both women stared at him. Then Kazumi snatched up the papers and started scanning them, probably looking to see if he was lying or not. She was, Oliver recalled, a former personal assistant of Robert's before resigning from the company upon her pregnancy with Emiko. Probably so they could carry on their affair in secret to make sure Moira didn't find out about them, for all the good that it did them.

"What's the catch?" Kazumi finally said after authenticating the documents. "Why are you giving this to us? Do you have another folder with the NDA?"

"There is no NDA," Oliver asserted. "I'm just doing the right thing, and fulfilling the last wishes of my father. He left me a second letter explaining the situation to me and that he wished for me to take care of you. So I've created a trust with twenty million dollars for you. You can do whatever you wish the money, with no blowback from me or my mother or anyone else."

There was a moment of silence. Then, slowly, a chuckle began to fill the room, and then full-blown laughter. Both Oliver and Emiko stared at the howling Kazumi as she clutched her stomach, bending over as her cackling reached a fever pitch. Finally, the laughter subsided, and she slowly lifted herself back upright. Robert's son and daughter stiffened in shock when they saw her face: her eyes were red, and there were tear tracks running down her cheeks. She was crying.

"So only when it didn't matter anymore did he feel it was safe enough for him to care," were the words that spilled out of her mouth. "How great and virtuous of him." She then started cursing in Japanese. Oliver couldn't understand a word she was saying, but judging by the wince Emiko was sporting, it wasn't pretty.

After she was done with her rant, Kazumi stomped out of the living room and into one of the bedrooms. Nobody moved to stop her as she slammed the door behind her. The sound echoed throughout the apartment, and it was only when it ceased did Oliver and Emiko turned back to each other.

"Is she alright?" Oliver asked, genuinely concerned.

"She's fine," Emiko claimed, rubbing her arm in an awkward fashion. "She's just… well. She loved my—our father a lot. And she never forgave him for abandoning us like he did, just because your mother would've left him less rich. And now, to learn that his last wishes were for you to take care of us… well, she's probably feeling a lot of conflicting emotions right now. A lot like me."

That made sense. "Emiko, I'm truly sorry for what my parents put you through," Oliver told her, tone completely apologetic. "Your mother might've been guilty for willingly entering a relationship with a married man, but you are innocent. My mother should've let my father at least support you financially, rather than leaving you to rot like this."

His words caused Emiko to swallow. "It's fine, Oliver. You don't need to apologize. If I'm not guilty for what my parents did, then you're not guilty for what your parents did either," she said. For some reason, she seemed a little tense. "While we're on the subject, I doubt your mother will be happy about this."

"She has no grounds to complain," her brother declared. "I inherited the family fortune, so the money is mine, not hers. And this is what I choose to do with it." He scratched the side of his head. "Adding to that, if you want to take on the Queen name, you can. You're Robert Queen's child, as much as Thea and I am. The name is rightfully yours if you want it."

Emiko stared at him like he had two heads. Then she shook her own head, and sighed. "Thank you for the offer, but I can't accept. My mother and I made a promise that if we ever managed to earn enough money, we would use it to leave Starling City behind and make a fresh start somewhere else. This place has too many painful memories for us. But making a fresh start will be difficult if I have the Queen name and publicly associated with your family."

Oliver nodded. "That's understandable. It won't affect you receiving the money — it's yours by right, as Robert Queen's daughter." He exhaled deeply. "I just wish things could've been different. I would've loved having another sister, and I'm sure Thea would've enjoyed having another sibling as well. Especially an older sister."

"Yeah," Emiko agreed. There was a sadness in her eyes, though it was mixed some other feeling Oliver couldn't quite identify. "It would've been nice."

There was a brief silence as they both fantasized over what could've been. "So," Emiko said, clearing her throat. "Where do we sign? And who do we file this to?"


After signing the papers, Oliver gave Emiko a list of printed instructions on how to properly access the trust and the money inside. With that piece of business done, Oliver decided he had outlived his welcome, and bid Emiko farewell with a handshake, along with leaving behind a card with his phone number and email on it. "Just in case you have any other questions or need help with anything," he explained.

Once he was gone, Emiko's mother finally left her room, considerably more disheveled. Her tears had dried, though her eyes were still red. "Is he gone?"

Emiko nodded.

"Good," Kazumi said, going to the kitchen to grab a much-needed glass of water. "I have to admit though, he's loads better than his parents. At least he seems to have something of conscious, unlike his shrew of a mother."

"He gave me his phone and email in case we needed anything," Emiko noted, staring at the card like she couldn't quite believe it existed. "He's nothing like his mother at all. And Robert…" she trailed off, and looked away.

Her mother frowned at the sight. "Emiko, I will not hold it against you if you decide to forgive your father after this," she said. "Just because I'm bitter and angry at him doesn't mean you have to be too. It's clear that he cared about us in the end. I just believed he should have cared more."

So did I. Except she had believed Robert hadn't cared at all. It's why she let him die. And yet, here was her brother, coming to her with the claim that he had cared in the end. That he had loved her and wanted to be taken care of, to have a piece of his fortune, as relatively small and paltry as it was. Did it absolve him of all the other wrongs? Maybe not, but Emiko was starting to feel guilt all the same.

And Oliver. Oliver was a complete innocent in all this. Him and his — their — sister. Even his mother, as much as Emiko hated her, had reason to be angry, for all that her reaction had gone completely overboard. But Oliver hadn't been angry at Emiko — or her mother — at all. He seemed more frustrated with his parents' actions, and had been nothing but kind to them. He had given them the money their father wanted her to have without a second thought, had apologized to her for what happened even though it had nothing to do with him, had even offered to let her take on the Queen name if she wanted.

I just wish things could've been different. Emiko sighed, as she remembered her half-brother's words. Dante was looking to relocate to another city for the time being, stating that things were happening in Starling that the Ninth Circle wanted to leave be for now to see how they played out. And he wanted Emiko to come with him, even offering to fund the move for Kazumi and her himself. Now, with this money, he didn't need to trouble himself with it.

She hadn't been entirely honest with Oliver. Before all this, part of her wanted to stay in Starling, if only so she could begin putting the pieces in place for her eventual revenge on the Queens. But now, the thought of even doing anything against Thea or him made her feel sick. Moira Queen could go to hell for all she cared, but her children…

Maybe it was better just to leave the Queens entirely behind her, instead of seeking vengeance against them. They were inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. And besides, with the Ninth Circle's backing, she could be something greater than Robert Queen ever was. If she played her cards right, she would be in complete control of the free world within the decade. What was a CEO of some random tech company compared to that?

Emiko smiled. That, in her opinion, was the greatest revenge of all.


Hours after his visit to the Adachis, Oliver returned home with a sigh, handing his jacket to one of the house staff to hang while he stretched out his arms and legs. He was officially both physically and emotionally exhausted, and just about ready to take a lay down at his bed. Unfortunately, it seems luck just wasn't on his side today.

"Hello, Oliver," Moira Queen greeted her son, crossing her arms. "Might I ask where you went today?"

Oliver groaned. "Mom, please, not now. I have been through the ringer for the past twelve hours and I really want to sleep." He was so lucky tomorrow was a Sunday. It meant he didn't have class in the morning.

"And you can. Once you explain where you were."

She wasn't going to budge. Fine. "Living room," Oliver told her, heading for the couch. "Something tells me this is going to be a long talk."


They were situated on the couch. His mother was as prim and proper as always, with perfect posture. Oliver, meanwhile, had decided propriety did not matter when it was this late and he was having a private talk with his mother, so he didn't hesitate lounge against the couch cushions. Moira merely arched an eyebrow at the sight but said nothing about it, which Oliver counted as a win.

"I'm waiting," she said instead.

Her son winced, then inhaled a deep breath. "As you know, Dad left me a couple of letters detailing some of his last requests," he started. "One of those requests is that I go to the Glades to meet a certain woman and her daughter. Kazumi and Emiko Adachi."

And just like that, whatever severe expression his mother had faded into shock and horror as she stiffened. "Oliver—"

"Mom," Oliver cut her off, speaking calmly, if tiredly. "Don't. You can explain your reasons after I finish."

Moira pursed her lips. Nonetheless, she gave him a conceding nod, and allowed him to continue.

"After learning about who they were, I was instructed to read a second letter Dad left me. There, he revealed the situation, explained what happened between all of you, and asked me to take care of the Adachis. So, after thinking it over, I decided to fulfill his wishes. I created a trust of twenty million dollars and have just transferred ownership of it to them today."

"And you didn't tell me," Moira noted, voice completely devoid of emotion.

"Because you would have tried to stop me," Oliver pointed out, stubbornness seeping in. "Even though it was the right thing to do. Mom, I completely understand why you were angry, but forcing Dad to cut them off was wrong. Kazumi might've been guilty for being his mistress, but it wasn't Emiko's fault for being born, and she was Dad's daughter. You should've at least let him financially support her, instead of leaving her to rot in the worst neighborhood in the city, like she was some dirty little secret instead of an actual person."

It was clear his words struck a chord in her, because whatever retort she had died in her throat. Moira looked away instead, and a tense silence fell between them for several minutes. Oliver was just about ready to doze off on the couch because he was that tired, but then he became wide awake again when Moira started speaking once more. "You're right."

He blinked when he heard those two words. "Mom?"

Moira sighed, and her eyes were pained. "You're right, Oliver. What I did was wrong. But… when I found out about Kazumi, about Emiko, I was angry. So, so angry. I forced you father to cut off contact and tried to sweep the entire thing under the rug and forget it ever happened, even though it did." She let out a bitter chuckle. "I guess we're lucky Kazumi had never thought to sue us for child support. The lawsuit would've dragged the entire thing out into the open."

"If I had been the one handling this, I wouldn't have given them a single penny. All your father's request would've done to me is reopen old wounds. I'm glad that you had the heart and the will to do the right thing on your own, for both of us."

Upon hearing those words, Oliver felt the hold in his chest loosen. She wasn't angry. This wasn't going to cause a rift between them. Thank God.

But now that the worst of his fears had passed, another thought occurred to him. A question that had been lingering ever since he had learned about the Adachis. "Mom… your marriage to Dad, it wasn't always happy, was it? I know he tended to cheat on you, but…"

"…but he always came back to me in the end, right?" Moira finished for him. Oliver nodded, causing his mother to adopt a bittersweet smile.

"Your father and I's marriage was complicated, sweetheart," she told him, fingering the wedding ring that even now still lingered on her finger. "We were partners in everything. Despite our issues, we trusted each other more than anyone else in our lives. And we always made the effort to listen to each other and talk out our problems. We loved raising you and your sister, and yes, we loved each other."

"But your father had a wandering eye. And while I would always come first in the end as his wife and the mother of his children, I wasn't always what he wanted in a lover. Your father was approaching a time in his life where he wanted to feel young again, if only for the brief moments where he didn't have to deal with all his responsibilities. Where he could relive the thrill of a new relationship rather than… settle." Moira sighed. "Your father was selfish, honey. I might've been the love of his life, but that didn't mean I was enough."

It was a familiar tale, one that made Oliver swallow. How many times had his father hurt his mother with his 'distractions'? But his mother kept on forgiving him anyway, because she loved him that much, and believed he loved her just the same. No matter how unhappy he had made her.

Oliver had done the same thing to Laurel so many times, content in the fact that she would always forgive him because he loved her, and she loved him. He had taken her for granted, and it was only when she was gone had he realized what he lost. Never more did he wish he could go back in time and take it all back, that he could just start things over between them.

But she was gone. And all Oliver was left with were memories, mementos, and regrets. Considering the fact that he had been unable to think of another woman, let alone touching another woman, since, he had a feeling that was all he was going to have for a very long time.

"Mom, about what I said a week ago," he started. "About you dating again. I know I wasn't happy with you, but everything I've learned since then has given me a new perspective. It'll take me some time to get used to, but if you want to date and find someone new to spend the rest of your life with, you can. I won't stand in the way of your happiness."

His mother seemed surprised to hear that. But then she smiled. "That's kind of you, sweetheart. But you were right — it's too soon for me to start seriously dating someone yet. For now, I'm just content to be with you and your sister. That's enough for me."

Oliver blinked, but then smiled back.


As she saw her son off to bed, Moira felt a swell of pride mixed in with several conflicting emotions. Her beautiful boy had grown up so much. He was becoming a far better person than his father, a far better person than her, and she could feel the worries she once felt for him as he entered his adolescence and then adulthood slip away one by one. As long as he continued this path, Oliver was going to be fine, even long after she was gone.

But then her thoughts slipped away to darker topics. The Adachis always made her feel a mountain of grief, anger and pain that she could never quite wash away. It was learning about the Adachis that had led to Thea's conception and birth, and no matter how many times Robert had sworn to stop seeing them, he always ended up going back on his word. So she had finally issued that ultimatum to make him stop, and had refused to budge an inch because she feared it would've caused him to backslide anyway.

Even now, part of her was smarting at the fact they were given a portion of Oliver's money. But Oliver wasn't wrong either, and Moira could objectively admit that Emiko was innocent of her parents' sins, even if she couldn't find it in her heart to forgive the girl for her existence quite yet. She might never, to be honest. Moira could be vindictive like that, a trait she had never managed to get rid of, even though she tried to teach her children to be better than her.

But all of that didn't matter anymore, did it? Robert was dead. She was free to choose her own path, to pursue her own happiness again. Even Oliver wasn't going to stand in her way of that. Her mind strayed to Walter, and she felt her heart flutter. Good, kind, Walter. A complete gentleman, an even better friend. Even though they had only gone on one or two dates, Moira knew her feelings for him were deepening at a startling pace.

It's for that reason that, even with Oliver's new blessing, she needed to keep their relationship a secret. Malcolm's threat still echoed in her mind, haunting her nightmares. If she went public with Walter, then he would just become another pawn for Malcolm to use and control her, just like her children. One misstep, and Walter find a black arrow in his heart, courtesy of her tormentor's enforcer.

That couldn't happen. She wouldn't let it happen. And if that meant things between Walter and her had to be quiet… well, what was one more secret to add to the pile?

Notes:

For the record, Oliver's thoughts about Robert and Moira's relationship are my thoughts. Moira might have thought she was the love of Robert's life, but in my honest opinion, she wasn't. Mainly because I believe Robert didn't have a love of his life. As Ray_Writes put it on the Lauriver Discord, he just chased after whatever pretty thing caught his eye and then ditched them after he was bored. The only reason he kept on coming back to Kazumi even after Moira found out is because of Emiko, and even then the moment his lifestyle was threatened he didn't hesitate to ditch her too.

As for the Adachis, this is the reason why Arrow's S6 and S7 are not happening. Because Oliver did the right thing and gave the Adachis the money Robert wanted them to have, Emiko doesn't hold a grudge against him or Thea and decides to leave them and Starling alone. So, no Ninth Circle, which means no mega-crime lord Diaz (which was BS, by the way). Granted, this means she gets away with letting the Gambit go down, but you can't have everything. And, well, if this little crisis of conscious causes Dante to have some doubt in her which may or may not get her killed by her bosses later down the line… well. That's up to your interpretation.

Meanwhile, despite Oliver promising to give his blessing to whatever new relationship she starts, Moira opts to keep her relationship with Walter a secret for the time being. The reason for that is because both her children are alive and are already virtual hostages of Malcolm, even if they don't know it. Moira can't bear the thought of losing either of them. If she goes and adds Walter to that list, then Malcolm will have a stranglehold on her — she'll be completely beholden to his will. And there's no telling whether or not Malcolm might try to kill him anyway just as a reminder. So keeping the relationship a secret is her way of keeping Walter safe from him.

Next Chapter: The Amazo starts its voyage.

Chapter 11: The Amazo

Summary:

Laurel leaves Lian Yu with Slade and Shado. However, not all is well.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

North China Sea

Their departure from Lian Yu went by with no issue. Even so, as their days of sailing went peaceably by, there was tension between the two women and their male companion. Slade was content to forget the disagreement over Hendrik's death ever happened and interacted with them as he always had in-between his duties as the acting-captain of the ship. But neither of his friends felt the same; Laurel in particular was haunted by the image of the prisoner's headless body, another horrific scene to add to her nightmares.

Neither of them brought it up, however. Slade still seemed to be the same person outside of that one episode, and they didn't want to get into another argument. Not when they were so close to finally reaching the mainland and making it home.

Things changed one night, about a week after they sailed from the island, when Laurel and Shado heard a knock on their door. As the only two women on the ship, it was only natural they room together, and since Slade was the one in charge, they had the best accommodations on the freighter: Ivo's old quarters. A second cot had to be pulled in to accomodate for both of them, but other than that the space was open and clean, complete with its own private bathroom. No need to use the communal showers with everyone else.

Laurel rubbed out the sleep in her eyes as she went to open the door, Shado just waking up and stretching her arms behind her. Ivo's bed was considerably more comfortable than the cot, so they had agreed it was only fair for them to switch beds every night. Laurel had gotten it last night, so tonight it was Shado's.

The American blinked when she saw who had awoken them from their slumber. "Anatoly?"

"Laurel," her friend greeted her. As Anatoly had been the one to inform them where Ivo's location was and had been an effective assistant for Laurel as she helped plan their voyage to China, he had been given a degree of trust and some perks as a result. This included a cabin on the ship and access to the better showers. "There is a problem."

"One that requires you to wake us up in the middle of the night?"

"Yes," Anatoly confirmed. He was grim. "Some of the prisoners have started to go missing."

That statement caused her to stiffen. From behind her, Shado had clearly heard, because Laurel could hear her scrambling out of her bed to join the conversation. "What? Why?"

"I do not know exactly. However, there are… rumors."

"Rumors?" Shado asked.

The Russian grimaced. "You know how Ivo was experimenting on us, yes?"

Both women nodded.

"Well, the reason for his experiments is because of the Mirakuru," he explained. "Before he came here in search of the original formula, he tried to re-create it using notes on it that he found. The current rumor going around the prisoners is that someone else has restarted the experiments."

"Oh my God," Laurel said, wide-eyed as her mouth dropped open.

Shado cursed. "It has to be one of the pirates," she claimed. "They're the only ones who were in any position to learn any intimiate knowledge involving the experiments. The only ones that would have any reason to try and re-create it…"

"…so they can inject themselves with it and stage a mutiny against Slade," Laurel finished for her, following her friend's line of thought. It made sense. After all, it was no secret that the moment they made it to China, they were going to hand the pirates over to the Chinese authorities. The bastards would do just about anything to avoid that fate, but the only way to do that was to re-take control of the ship. And that meant going against Slade, and all his Mirakuru prowess. They needed a way to even the playing field.

She glanced back at Anatoly. "How long has this been going on?"

"I only noticed two days ago and was only able to confirm what was happening now. It's possible this been going on for much longer."

"When do the disappearances happen?"

"At night," Anatoly revealed.

Laurel and Shado exchanged looks. "Stakeout?" Shado suggested.

"Stakeout."


They chose one of the lower cells, one with a good vantage point but was also tucked away deep enough in the dark that they wouldn't be immediately noticed. Laurel took a dark blanket from Ivo's closet and used it to cover Shado and herself, throwing it over their bodies. Anatoly took another and did the same in another cell on the other side of the brig.

And then they waited.

Time passed. Laurel only had so many hours of sleep before she was woken up by this newest crisis, so it wasn't long before she began to doze off. Finally, just as she was about fall back into slumber again, Shado lightly touched her side to wake her up. Her friend pointed to one of the upper levels, where a pair of pirates were dragging away one of the prisoners. Judging by the massive bruise on his face, he had been knocked out to ensure his cooperation.

Once the pirates were out of earshot, they quickly got out of the blanket and exited the cell. Anatoly followed their lead as they headed in the direction the pirates had taken their new victim. Shado had brought her bow and quiver and was already drawing an arrow, while Laurel had her knife at the ready. It wasn't soon until they realized where they were going — the storage rooms, where they stored everything that wasn't some kind of perishable, such as toilet paper and towels. People hardly ever came here unless it was to restock on supplies. A perfect place to conduct new experiments under the nose of the ship's new overlord.

All three winced when they heard an inhuman scream. "Get ready," Laurel told her friends, as they neared the door where the scream came from.

She tensed, and then kicked the door open with a yell, the wood breaking in two. The three of them darted inside, preparing to attack—only to stop when they finally comprehended the scene. Laurel dropped her knife in shock while Shado slowly lowered her bow, in complete disbelief. Even Anatoly looked stunned.

The pirates were there, in stances to protect themselves. So was the prisoner, convulsing on the ground with tears of blood sliding down his face. But the true cause of their surprise was the man standing above him: Slade, holding a syringe in one hand, the liquid inside having already been injected into his victim. He was staring back at them in equal amounts of surprise and horror.

"Slade…?" Laurel said slowly, her gaze filling with equal and opposite amounts of her own surprise and horror.

Slade lowered his hand, swallowing. "What are you two doing here? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Shado was staring at the syringe. "Is that the Mirakuru we stored in Ivo's old lab?"

They had left the box of Mirakuru there and locked it tight because they didn't know what to do with it and didn't want to give any of the pirates access to the drug. What was going to happen to it once they made it to China was unclear, however. While no one relished the idea of giving it to the Chinese government (or any government, really), it nonetheless would make a powerful bargaining chip to gain access to the mainland in case Shado couldn't convince the authorities to let them through.

The Australian didn't say anything. He just looked away. Laurel and Shado turned to each other, of one mind, before the former began speaking again. "Slade, don't tell me you're the one behind restarting the experiments," she all but begged.

Their friend grimaced. "I am," he admitted.

"What?" Shado was aghast, as was Laurel. "But why? What he did was wrong, you know that!"

"I KNOW!" Slade shouted, whirling around to face them. There was a dark intensity in his eyes that neither of them liked, and Laurel was instantly reminded of Hendrik's death. "I know, but we need more Mirakuru. Imagine something happens to you, either of you, and we can't access the original supply? Or we run out? I'm doing this to protect you both."

"But human experimentation?" Laurel cried. "Slade, this is cruel and inhumane. When we took over this ship, we promised everyone that the experiments would stop. Nobody here deserves to be a guinea pig!"

But her words fell on deaf ears. If she was hoping to talk some sense into him, it didn't work. Slade simply shook his head. "I don't care," he claimed. "As long as you're safe, Laurel, I don't care. I'll do whatever it takes to protect you."

Whatever retort Laurel had died in her throat as she comprehended Slade's words. She blinked in confusion as she looked up at her friend. "Slade…?"

"I'm in love with you, Laurel."

There was a moment of silence as those words sunk into Laurel's head. What…? Slade was in love with her? How? When? She turned to Shado for support, but her friend didn't seem to be surprised at all about learning about this. Instead, she was wincing, as if waiting for a bomb to drop.

Finally, Laurel found it in herself to speak. "You're…" she trailed off. She still couldn't quite formulate her thoughts yet.

"I said I'm in love with you," Slade repeated, dropping the syringe to the ground. The tube shattered upon impact as Slade forcefully cupped Laurel's face so their eyes could meet more easily. "I love you, Dinah Laurel Lance. You're beautiful, fierce, intelligent, passionate, considerate, kind — you're everything I could ever possibly want in a partner. I've been holding myself back from telling you for months, but now that we're so close to getting home, I can't hold it back any longer."

"But what about Adeline?"

He snorted at the sound of his wife's name. "Our marriage was on the rocks for years, even before I left for Lian Yu with Billy. I had already made up my mind I was going to divorce her; meeting you only cemented my choice."

Laurel still couldn't believe a single word that was coming out of his mouth. Slade was in love with her? He was already planning on divorcing his wife? But what about his son? Not to mention the fact that they lived on entirely different continents. Was this why he wanted to go back to Starling with her, to help her find the saboteur of the Gambit?

"Laurel, I'm doing this for you. I'm willing to damn myself to hell if it means protecting you," Slade declared. "That and so much more is how far I'm willing to go for you. So forget that dunce back home you call a boyfriend. How many times did he cheat on you? How many times did he take you for granted? He's not good enough for you, Laurel. He's not willing to go the lengths I am to make sure you're safe and happy."

Except she wasn't safe and happy right now. She was the farthest thing away from safe and happy. Now that Laurel could see Slade upfront, close and personal, she could see the growing insanity in his dark eyes. Something was wrong, deeply wrong, and she had a feeling she knew what it was.

And as for his feelings… Laurel closed her eyes and sighed, gently pulling away from Slade's hands and shaking her head.

"No, Slade," she said, opening her eyes so he could see the honesty in them. "I love you too, but it's as a friend or even a brother. I'm not in love with you, and even if Ollie weren't in the picture, that wouldn't change."

"But Laurel…" He stepped forward and grabbed her again, this time by the arms. His grip was firm, and getting firmer by the second. "He doesn't deserve you. He's just some rich idiot getting by on his parents' money. You deserve someone strong, someone with drive, like me."

"Slade…"

"Please, just reconsider. Think it through. You'll see once you've had time to think it over."

Now Laurel was really beginning to struggle. That only caused him to hold onto her tighter. "Slade, please. You're hurting me."

"Laurel—"

"Okay, that's enough."

The conversation stopped. Shado, determined and resigned, had finally decided to intervene. "Slade," she said softly, "let her go. She said no. She doesn't feel the same way you do."

"She will once she thinks it over," Slade stubbornly said back.

"Slade," Shado said again, moving to grab one of Slade's hands to pull it off Laurel. "Just let her—"

SMACK!

Laurel gasped as Shado tumbled to the ground, clutching her cheek. The older woman's eyes were wide in surprise as she landed on her side, and she looked up to see an equally stunned Slade. The man still had his hand up, from where he had backhanded her away. His grip on Laurel's other arm loosened, and the younger woman quickly used the opportunity to rip away from him and go to Shado. "Shado! Oh my God, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Shado told her, cringing as Laurel slowly pulled away her hand to reveal her cheek. The American winced when she saw it — a red welt was already beginning to form. It was definitely going to bruise in a few hours.

"We need to get you some ice," Laurel said, gently checking the injury over. She then moved to wrap around an arm around Shado's waist, helping her friend get back on her feet. But before they could leave, they were met with Slade once more.

The man, to his credit, looked genuinely guilty and ashamed of his actions. "I'm sorry, Shado," he apologized. "I don't know what got a hold of me."

"If you're sorry, then stop the experiments, Slade," Shado said in return, scowling. It was clear she was no longer in the mood to be charitable to him. "You know they're wrong."

For a moment, he looked tempted to acquiesce to her demand. That's how guilty he felt. But then there was something else in his eyes: resolve. The wrong kind. "No," Slade decided. "What I'm doing is what needs to be done, just like on the island. I'm sorry you two aren't willing to accept that yet."

He turned to one of the pirates. "Escort them back upstairs to their room, and lock them inside."

That caused the eyes of both women to widen. "You can't do that!" Laurel exclaimed.

"I can and I will," Slade told her, face grim. "I can't afford to let you two stop me. Don't worry, you'll still get food and water, and whatever else you might need. But from now on, I, and I alone, will be running this ship."

"Slade—!"

But he didn't bother to give them even that much. "Take them away."


Hours later, the atmosphere in their cabin was tense as Laurel treated the growing bruise on Shado's cheek. Before they were let inside, their room had been plucked clean of everything and anything that could be used as a weapon. Shado's bow and arrows had been confiscated, as had all of Laurel's knives and her emergency handgun. In addition, Slade had issued an armed guard in front of their door just to make sure they wouldn't be able to leave. They were effectively prisoners, and there was nothing they could do about it.

"It's the Mirakuru," Shado said as Laurel finished the bandages. "Has to be. An experimental super soldier serum with regeneratives properties…."

She closed her eyes, and shook her head. "We should've known there would've been side effects. It was too good to be true."

"That must be why the Japanese never made any efforts to recover it themselves," Laurel mused quietly as she packed away the spare medical supplies back into the first-aid kit. "Something like that isn't something you just leave behind. Either they thought the benefits that could've come from researching and perfecting the serum weren't worth the potential costs to find and locate it, or…"

"…there was something about it that didn't make it worth finding at all," Shado finished.

And whatever that something was, it was now affecting their friend. Slade had always been the most cynical out of them, brutal and vicious in battle, but he had never been truly cruel, and at heart he was a good man. The man they had come to know over the past several months would've never stood for Ivo's experiments. He would've destroyed the lab equipment himself.

"What are we going to do, Shado?" Laurel asked her friend, feeling lost for the first time in a long time. "What he's doing is wrong, and even without that, even if we decide not to stop him, that's still not a guarantee he won't harm us."

It's something that she never thought she would ever say about Slade, at least not after fully befriending the man and forming something of a surrogate family with him, but reality had figuratively hit her in a face hours ago in the middle of that little makeshift lab they found their friend in. He had struck Shado outside of a spar, something Laurel had never imagined he would ever do, and it was proof that the man she had befriended and come to see as family was not the man he was now. Whoever Slade was now, she wasn't sure, but it was someone that needed to be stopped, whether by them or someone else.

Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy, and they both knew it. "I don't know, Laurel," Shado replied, rubbing her forehead in exhaustion. "Neither of us are strong enough to stop him, not with the Mirakuru in his veins. If we were still near Lian Yu, I'd suggest we just escape back to the island, but we've been out at sea for days now. And right now, the Amazo is still our best shot at getting back home."

"So you're saying that we're stuck," Laurel summed up for both of them.

"Yes," her friend admittedly honestly. "Unless Slade changes his mind, all we can do is just wait until we make it back to the mainland and tell someone what he's doing, probably the government. They'll probably have to send in an army to stop him, though."

"Right," Laurel sighed. She leaned back, her head resting against the wall of their cabin. "Honestly, considering the situation, I'm beginning to wonder if we really escaped that island. All we've done is just trade one hell for another." Except this time, it was their best friend as the tormentor.

Shado shrugged, but didn't disagree. It was clear she felt the same way.


Another week passed by. True to his word, Slade sent someone to give them food and water three times a day, along with any other supplies they needed. But not once were they allowed to step outside their room. Occasionally, he showed up and tried to talk to them, to turn them to his side. He even once tried to appeal to Shado's time as a medical student. Unfortunately for him, it didn't work — neither of them could bring themselves to agree to any of his actions.

Now bereft of responsibilities, they struggled to find different ways to fill their time. Ivo's cabin was reasonably big, but not big enough for sparring, so they had to settle for basic workouts and take turns practicing katas. It did have a bookcase with a solid selection for its size, so they began raiding that for reading material. At one point, one of the pirates even loaned them a deck of cards so they could play a few games. All of it did well enough to pass the time.

And then there were the times where they just talked. And for Laurel, she had one specific subject in mind.


"You knew he was in love with me."

Shado cringed when she heard those words. She wanted to deny it, but it was clear that whatever denial she made, Laurel wasn't going to believe. The younger woman had her arms crossed and was giving her that stubborn look, the one that said she wasn't going to budge for anything. Lying was pointless. "Yes, I did," she admitted.

"And you encouraged him to pursue me? Even though I had a boyfriend waiting back home?" Laurel sounded betrayed.

"Yeah, because like him, I thought your boyfriend was a jerk who didn't deserve you," Shado responded, getting a little defensive. "Look, Laurel, I'm sorry. But can you blame me for wanting my two closest friends to be happy? When I realized he had feelings for you, I didn't support it at first because of his wife and even confronted him over it. But then he confided to me about his marriage troubles, so I thought it over some more. And when you revealed how Oliver treated you…" She trailed off, then shrugged helplessly.

Maybe she shouldn't have gotten involved at all. But Slade was her friend, and it hurt her seeing him so forlorn over Laurel pining after a guy that had constantly taken her for granted. So she had done her best to support him, to give him some hope that one day, Laurel might return his feelings. Shado should've realized it was never going to be that simple, and that was without adding the Mirakuru into the mix.

Her friend gave her a beady-eyed look before sighing. "I know, and I forgive you. You were just trying to be a good friend." She moved to sit down next to Shado, leaning her head against her friend's shoulder. "I've been repeating my memory of his confession in my mind for days, Shado. And I stick by what I said back there — I love him, but not like that. I don't want to hurt him, but I can't lie to him either. And I can't control how I feel, no matter how much I want to." If it were that easy, they wouldn't be having this conversation at all.

"But Slade's not going to accept that," Shado couldn't help but point out. "Not with the Mirakuru in his veins. And if you keep on rejecting him too many times…" She shuddered. The man Slade was now… she didn't want to think of what he would to Laurel the moment he got fed up with her constantly rebuffing his advances.

"I know that too. But I can't lie to him Shado, not just because of my own principles, but also because he'll see right through it." Laurel screwed her eyes closed. "Whatever happens… we'll just have to figure out a way to get through it. Like we always do."

"Yeah."

It was the only option they had, if it could be considered an option at all.


A week after learning about Slade's Mirakuru experiments, deja vu struck Laurel as she found herself once again awoken in the middle of the night by a knock on the door. The feeling only grew when she found Anatoly on the other side of it, this time considerably more disheveled. Even though he was only acting out of concern, Slade hadn't taken his decision to inform Laurel and Shado about the missing prisoners well, since it led to them discovering his secret. So he had been kicked out of his cabin and was forced to reside back in his old cell in the brig.

"Anatoly?" Laurel said in surprise, as Shado got up from her bed and walked up to join her. "What are you doing here? Where's the guard?"

"Right here," her friend told her, jabbing his thumb to the side, where the guard was standing. The man gave her a small wave. "He's helping me."

She blinked. "Why?" The pirates and the former prisoners only worked together out of necessity. Otherwise, they still pretty much hated each other.

Suddenly, an alarm started sounding throughout the ship. There was a chorus of voices echoing through the hall, coming from the direction of the brig. Anatoly nodded towards that direction. "That is why. Mutiny."

"Mutiny?" This time it was Shado who spoke. "You're all rebelling against Slade?"

He nodded once more. "After he locked you two up, he decided he no longer need to hide his activities. He started taking people in the middle of the day for his experiments. First the prisoners only, but then he started taking some of the pirates as well. His way at playing 'scientist'."

That caused both women to blanch. If that was the case, then no wonder everyone decided to mutiny. A crew only mutinied when they believed that their captain could no longer properly safeguard them and lead them. As hated as the pirates were, they were the most experienced seamen the Amazo had — without them, this ship wasn't going anywhere, and everyone knew it. If Slade had been in any right mind, he would've never used those pirates for his experiments. But with the Mirakuru completely addling his thoughts, only further reinforced by Laurel and Shado constantly refusing to abide by his wishes, he wasn't thinking things through at all.

"We need you two with us," Anatoly continued. "You are the ones he is most unlikely to harm. You can distract him while the rest of us try to take him down."

It was a simple enough plan. And considering how many people were on the ship and the sheer desperation they were all feeling, it just might work. But still. "He's our friend," Laurel said, conflicted. Even with all the disagreements, all the pain, she hadn't forgotten that.

"He is," Shado agreed.

But Anatoly didn't. "He is not your friend," he insisted. "Whoever your friend was, he died when he was injected with Mirakuru. All left behind is a monster with his face."

The words hurt to hear, and Laurel desperately wanted to deny them. But memories of everything Slade had been doing since he got injected with the Mirakuru, from slaughtering their attackers to murdering Hendrik to the experiments, all played throughout her mind. None of those actions were of the good man Laurel had thought of as a brother. Anatoly was right — whoever Slade used to be was gone. All that was left was a monster.

The two women exchanged another look. At Shado's nod, Laurel released another sigh and turned back to Anatoly. "We're in."

For the first time in a while, she saw the man smile. "Good. You need these then." He held up a bag, and took out Shado's bow and arrows, followed by Laurel's knives. Laurel took her weapons and strapped them to her side, as Shado slid her quiver over shoulder and tested her bow string.

Once they were properly armed, with their bags strapped to their backs in case they needed anything else, Anatoly beckoned them over towards the direction of the brig. It was time to get this show on the road.


When they got to the brig, chaos had already erupted there and presumably all across the ship as the mutineers and what little of Slade's loyalists there were left clashed. Laurel had already drawn a knife when they entered the fray, while Shado tried to clear a path from the back using her arrows. There weren't any clear targets, beyond attacking anyone aiming for them or for Anatoly.

Slade was in the middle of the wild throng, fighting with abandon. None of the men present stood a chance against him and he was making it abundantly clear. Already there was a wide berth around him as the mutineers encircled the target of their rebellion, searching for an opening. This was the scene Laurel and Shado came upon. "SLADE!"

The man in question whipped his head upwards, staring at them in shock. "What are you two doing here!"

"We're here to stop you, Slade," Laurel said, knife at the ready, Shado by her side. "What you're doing is wrong, no matter your reasons."

"Laurel, I'm doing this to protect you!"

"No, you're not! You're doing this because the Mirakuru is telling you to!" She shouted back. Her face fell into a pleading expression. "Please, Slade, stop this. You need help."

Slade looked away, clenching his eyes closed. He almost seemed to be listening to something, but what it was Laurel couldn't hope to know. Finally, he opened his eyes and was about to say something back, but before he could say anything, he was attacked once more by another pirate, hoping to take advantage of the opening Laurel had unintentionally gave him.

The brawl started anew as the loyalists and the mutineers fell upon each other. Many of the latter were focusing on Slade, knowing taking him out almost guaranteed victory, but the Mirakuru was quickly proving to be too much, even with the numbers game. Then there were those from both factions that had opted to attack Laurel and Shado, forcing the two women to defend themselves.

For the loyalists, it was obvious that Laurel and Shado were going to turn on Slade if they believed there was no choice, so they wanted to preemptively get rid of two potential opponents before they could attack. For the mutineers, they knew Slade still cared for his two friends (Laurel especially), so they hoped to destabilize and distract him from his own battles so someone could get a lucky shot in. Whatever the reason, both women found themselves in the middle of an increasingly chaotic quagmire that did not look to be ending any time soon.

Laurel didn't know how long the chaos lasted as she stabbed anyone who got too close to her and Shado. It could've been minutes, it could've been hours. But the fighting was endless and she was increasingly getting tired. Even with the better provisions Slade had given to them during their imprisonment, the reality was Laurel had been malnourished for months while residing on Lian Yu. Damage like that wasn't going to recover that quickly thanks to a mere few weeks of better nutrition.

Eventually, however, things came to a head. The mutineers were beginning to realize that the Mirakuru was simply too much for them. There was no way for any of them to overcome it. Some began turning on their allies, while others tried begging for mercy. One broke off entirely from the crowd to flee through the corridors. Laurel had thought nothing of it, until the ship began to lurch.

Shouts and screams were heard as people began to slide away, hitting the cell doors or falling into the corridors, unable to stop their descents. Thinking quickly, Laurel stabbed her knife into the metal floor, all the way to the handle. She held on tight, and when Shado began to slide away, grabbed her friend's hand before she could fall.

The sound of rushing water reached her ears as the ship lurched again to the other direction, before eventually straightening itself out, though wobbly. It wasn't going to stay like this for long.

"What's going on!" Shado shouted towards Anatoly.

Anatoly grimaced. "Backup plan. If we cannot kill him, then destroy the engines and sink the ship. Better to die a quick death by drowning then a slow one by experimentation."

Laurel cringed. The logic was sound, in a morbid kind of way, but the reality was awful. She had almost died by drowning once and had no desire to repeat the experience.

It seemed, however, she wasn't going to have much of a choice. The ship was already beginning to take water. Many were already fleeing, trying to get to the main deck to avoid their fates for as long as possible. Others were once again trying their luck at Slade, hoping to get a final revenge on their tormentor before they were forced into a watery grave. Either that, or a quick death.

As the ship began to literally fall apart around them, Laurel and Shado struggled to stay on their feet, hanging onto different poles and other structures throughout the brig. Anatoly had long since disappeared with other prisoners, having been caught by the waves. Another bad lurch saw Shado ripped away from Laurel's arms and sent falling once more towards the other end of the ship. Laurel called out her name with a scream, only to stop when Shado was saved.

By Slade.

The man used his inhuman strength to easily pull her up to where he had anchored himself. He had his arm around her and held her tight. Once the ship righted itself again, the two stood together, breathing hard. Laurel walked on unsteady legs toward them.

Only to stop when Slade tightened his arm around Shado, near her neck. The other woman began wheezing as she struggled to breathe, while Slade met Laurel's eyes. This time, there was no flicker or anything like that; the madness the Mirakuru had inspired in her friend was in full display.

"Slade," Laurel said slowly, as calmly as she could manage, which was not by much. "Let her go."

"I will, Laurel, as soon as you accept my feelings and come to my side," Slade told her, tilting his head in a disturbing manner. His eyes were wide, the pupils completely blown out. Laurel could barely recognize him as he was now. "I love you, Laurel. Why can't you accept that?"

"I do accept that, Slade. I just don't feel the same way." Laurel didn't even bother trying to lie. She didn't have the time or energy to sell it, and she couldn't trust him to be sincere with the Mirakuru in his veins. Better he hear the truth instead, whatever the consequences might be. "I'm sorry. I truly am."

Slade pursed his lips, snarling, before moving his arm to grab Shado by her neck, holding her up in the air. At the sight of this, Laurel began to panic. "No, Slade, no! Let her go!"

"This is all your fault!" The Australian accused her other friend, no longer paying attention to Laurel. "You lied to me about her! You said she would return my feelings one day if she was just given time! Well, time's passed, and she still doesn't feel the same way!"

Shado gagged as she tried to speak back. "No… Slade… I really thought she would…" Her gagging got worse as the grip around her neck tightened, and she began to struggle, reaching back and grabbing an arrow from her quiver to try and use it to get Slade to back off. But she couldn't find the strength or wherewithal to fight back.

Laurel slogged her feet through the water, trying to get to her friend to free her. But the moment she got there and tried to pull Slade away, he shoved her aside. Shado's struggling began to slow as her face turned blue and her body limp.

As Shado began to close her eyes, something in Laurel snapped.

"Let! Her! GOOOOOOOOO!"

Her scream reverberated throughout the entire brig, drowning out all other sounds. Something, some kind of energy, escaped her mouth, striking everything with a powerful force. The metal of the cells began to buckle as the entire ship lurched again at this unexpected turn of events.

More importantly, the energy struck Slade, causing him to drop Shado as he clutched his ears in pain, trying to block out the sound. Shado in turn grabbed her chest, heaving in deep breaths as she tried to regain her wits about her. She rapidly blinked her eyes as consciousness slowly returned to her. Against all the odds, she was alive.

Eventually, Laurel's scream stopped, and the energy along with it. She bent forward, using her knees to hold herself up as she panted in exhaustion. What was that?

Unfortunately, she didn't have time to think about it. The ship lurched for the final time, before finally beginning to sink. More and more water rushed through the brig as Laurel began to slide away to God knows where. She reached her hand out to Shado, calling her name once more. "SHADO!"

"LAUREL!" Shado, voice still a little hoarse, tried to half-run, half-swim towards her. However, her efforts were stopped.

Slade, now recovered from whatever Laurel did, had managed to grab onto Shado's leg and was trying to keeping her away from the object of his affections. Whatever semblance of control and mental coherence was gone, leaving behind a mad, raving animal in its place.

"No, no! If I can't be with her, then neither can you!"

Reluctantly, Shado turned away from Laurel for a brief moment, and towards Slade. Then, she lifted her hand, the one with the arrow in it. Laurel was frozen in place, or as much as she could be in her current circumstances, as she watched one of her friends stab the other in the eye.

Even Slade couldn't shake something like that off. His grip on Shado's leg went slack immediately, and he was carried off by the water, disappearing into the darkness. Laurel barely had any time to process what was seemingly his death before another hard slap of water reminded her of her current situation.

"SHADO! OVER HERE!" She called out once more, one hand stretched outwards toward her friend. Shado, hanging onto one of the cell doors, grimaced. She then maneuvered her body horizontally, and then used what little leg strength she had left to launch herself towards Laurel's hand. Laurel met her halfway, and just barely managed to catch her hand before she was lost beneath the sea.

Laurel pulled her friend, her only remaining friend, towards her, and wrapped an arm around her. Their gazes met, and they nodded at each other. Whatever happened next, they would face it together. No matter what.

And finally, the ship capsized. One final massive flood came barreling down towards them. Laurel let go of the knife she had been using to anchor herself and wrapped her remaining arm around Shado, as Shado did the same with her. This was it.

As the ocean began to completely fill her senses, Laurel closed her eyes, and blacked out.


Laurel came awake suddenly, coughing up sea water for what seemed like forever. Finally, as the last of it in her throat left her, she allowed herself to fall back on the hard surface she was on, staring up at the bright, blue sky. What happened? Where am I?

And then she remembered.

The Amazo. The mutiny. Slade.

Shado.

She suddenly sat back up, searching around frantically for her friend. A sob of relief escaped her throat when she saw Shado laying somewhere else on the floor, unconscious but breathing. Laurel rushed to her, gently tugging away at her shoulders. "Shado. Shado! Please, wake up!"

It took a moment, but soon Shado was coughing up sea water like she was. She clutched away at her chest for a moment, inhaling deep gulps of air, probably trying to resettle her mind. But when she saw Laurel, her eyes widened and then she threw herself at her friend, pulling her into a strong embrace.

"We're alive," Shado said, relieved. "We're alive."

"And we're together," Laurel added, hugging back. "Thank God. Oh, thank God."

They stayed like that for as long as they could. It was the least they deserved.


Eventually, however, the rest of the world had to take priority. They reluctantly separated and looked around, trying to figure out where they were. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to go on. The room was sparsely decorated, with only mats and some blankets. A small table with a lamp sat in the corner. The ebb and flow of the floor beneath them and the sounds of the ocean from the small window one of the walls had indicated they were probably on another ship of some kind, but not much more than that. And they couldn't get out, either. The door was locked.

"Do you remember anything?" Laurel asked her companion.

Shado shook her head. "Not much. Just the water hitting us and then blacking out. You?"

"The same. I guess we'll just have to wait."

They didn't have to wait for long. A few minutes later, a man entered the room. He had dark hair and eyes, and was wearing some kind of strange armor. One look at them, and then he was gone again, this time shouting something in another language. If Laurel had to guess, it was something middle eastern. Maybe Arabic?

Soon, the door opened again, this time with both the original man and another man with blond hair, wearing the same armor. They were accompanied with a beautiful woman with brunette hair and mocha-colored skin. She was wearing armor like the other two, except hers was more distinct, with violet and red accents and a more feminine touch.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," she spoke, her voice accented. "Might I know your names?"

The two castaways exchanged another look. "My name is Laurel," Laurel finally said, seeing no reason to lie.

"And I'm Shado." Shado frowned. "And you are…?"

The woman smirked. "My name is Nyssa al Ghul. Heir to the Demon."

Notes:

Extra long chapter, but I couldn't find a good place to split it and I've been waiting to write this chapter for a long time. A lot happens, and a lot has changed.

So, Laurel and Shado finally realize just how insane Slade has become, and figure out it has to do with the Mirakuru. In turn, Slade finally confesses to Laurel, only for Laurel to try to gently let him down. Of course, Slade, being crazy pants, can't really take no for an answer.

But because he loves Laurel and still cares for Shado to some extent and hasn't completely lost it yet, he doesn't torture them or anything just because he didn't get what he wanted and instead just leaves them locked up in their room. It's only when it becomes clear that Laurel doesn't really love him back even when he's threatening Shado's life that he finally snaps, and of course, he deflects the blame on Shado for 'lying' to him.

Which leads to Laurel awakening her Canary Cry! There's a lot of factors that caused that to happen. First, Laurel's been on Lian Yu, a mystical convergence, for several months, so she's been absorbing some weird energy there. Then there's the fact that she's also been in contact with some weird chemical stuff, both in the Japanese submarine where the Mirakuru was housed and in Ivo's ship (because that place did not look like it had been kept well). All of that together, combined with the emotional trigger of watching Shado slowly being choked to death before her eyes pretty much caused her metagene to activate and give her the Cry.

Finally, they're saved by Nyssa and the League. In the original notes Arlyss and I made together, Laurel was rescued by ARGUS like Ollie was in canon while Shado effectively took Sara's place in the League. However, here I wanted to do something different because I felt like rehashing China wasn't really interesting or worth the effort. So I opted to have Laurel be saved by the League alongside Shado.

Note that, unlike To Hell and Back, Laurel is not going to stay the rest of the five years with the League. She's only going to stay with them for Year 3 before leaving. How she's going to do that without getting hunted down and killed… well, you'll see.

Next Chapter: The beginning of Year 3.

Chapter 12: Nanda Parbat

Summary:

Laurel and Shado are taken to Nanda Parbat and given an ultimatum.

Back in Starling, everyone begins preparing for Tommy's twenty-fifth birthday party.

Notes:

Pre-Chapter Note: This story has a TV Tropes page now! The link is in the first chapter of the AO3 version, if you're wondering where.

In other news, all of Laurel's five years away from Starling for this story have been completed and betaed. They'll be posted using the usual schedule to give each chapter the chance to breathe, and so I can have time to work on other stories. One particular story, a new one, is also a Lauriver Alt-Season 5 AU that I've been planning out for the last couple of weeks. It's already finished planning, all that's left is actually writing it out, so I'm going to start on that one next. I'll tell all of you when I'm ready to begin posting it.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

North China Sea

The Demon, Laurel learned, was also known as the League of Assassins.

That little revelation came when Shado paled drastically upon learning their savior's name. "You are the daughter of Ra's al Ghul? His heir?" she had asked, trembling. Never before had Laurel seen so much fear in her eyes, not even on the Amazo, when Slade's madness had reached a fever pitch and threatened to literally choke the life out of her.

"I am," Nyssa confirmed imperiously. Her own eyes were alight with curiosity. "You have heard of us?"

"My father learned his skills in archery from a former member of the League," Shado revealed, audibly swallowing. "He passed on those skills to me."

"I see."

She didn't say anything more than that. Instead, she turned to leave. Laurel, still more confused than ever, tried to stop her. "Wait! Where are you taking us?"

Nyssa turned back, but only for a brief moment. "To Nanda Parbat. The Demon has saved your life. Now it is time for you to pay back that debt."

With that final word, she was gone, the door closing behind her.


Shado explained everything after that, keeping her voice low out of fear of being overheard. At least, everything she knew. Nyssa was the daughter of Ra's al Ghul, the leader of a secret society of warriors known as the League of Assassins. The League was founded thousand of years ago with a singular purpose — to be the arbiters of justice, and rid the world of evil through the most primordial form of justice there was: death. Very few people knew of them, and those that did usually only knew them through rumors and whispers, legend and myth.

"So they're vigilantes, basically," Laurel summed up.

"That's the kindest way to describe them," Shado told her, still shivering. "The League is a cult, Laurel. A cult of murderers. They train their members through pain and torture, before sending them off on missions to kill whoever they deem to be evil that the normal authorities cannot touch. Warlords, mercenaries, criminals, politicians, businessmen—if they cannot face society's justice, then they will face the League's justice. And whenever a society becomes too decadent and corrupt, they conduct a purge to wipe it out. The Black Plague, the Burning of London, the Sack of Rome — the League had a hand in all of them, and many more."

Laurel's stomach turned as she listened to Shado's explanation. She had seen some very strange things during her time on Lian Yu, including seeing one of her best friends be revived from death from a experimental super soldier drug, but this… this was unreal. Even though she knew Shado wasn't lying to her, Laurel still had a hard time believing her words. It was like a more lethal version of those crazy illuminati theories, except this time it was real. "And your father told you all of this?"

Her friend nodded. "My father was taught by a former member of the League. Talia al Ghul. Nyssa's older sister. She… didn't leave the League on good terms, which is why I didn't mention it when Nyssa and her men were here. I didn't know how they would react to me being the daughter of one of her students, even though I've never met Talia once in my life."

That made sense. Laurel made a mental note to never mention it either. The last thing she wanted to do was endanger Shado's life thanks to a thoughtless slip of the tongue. "And what about their leader? Ra's al Ghul? What kind of name is that, by the way?"

"It's Arabic for 'The Demon's Head'."

Really? Laurel had to hold back a snort, only for her amusement to fade at the sight of Shado's expression. If anything, her friend's fear had only increased. Ra's al Ghul, it seemed, was no laughing matter.

"He's one of the deadliest warriors on the planet, perhaps the deadliest, on par with the likes of Lady Shiva. Rumors even say he was one of Shiva's teachers." The older woman inhaled a shuddering breath. "And according to what's been said, he's led the League for over thousands of years."

"What? That can't be right." Thousands of years? No one lived that long. "That's impossible, Shado."

"Perhaps so. But with the League, you can never be too sure." She shuffled closer to her friend, clinging to Laurel as if she were a lifeline. "We're going into the lion's den, Laurel. And with a debt to pay as well. And I'm afraid of just what kind of price they'll exact on us for saving our lives."

There was a sense of finality to her voice that startled Laurel. It was the first time she had ever seen Shado so completely and utterly terrified. From Fyers to Ivo to Slade, Shado had been afraid, yes, but she had always been able to control it, to not let it rule her and instead use it to drive her. That was one of the things Laurel had admired most about her and sought to emulate.

But now, all of that drive and resolve was gone. The woman Laurel considered her best friend and sister in all but blood was a quivering shell of her former self, drowning in dread of awaited for them. And that made Laurel afraid as well.

Not for the first time, she wondered if it would've been kinder for them to die on that ship.


The voyage lasted another week or so. Laurel and Shado, weak from the sinking of the Amazo, could do little more than stay in their room as Nyssa had her men slowly nursed them back to health. They were given food and water, along with softer material for bedding and some books to help pass the time. When they were stronger, they were allowed to walk outside to the deck and do some light exercise.

Eventually, they made landfall in some kind of hidden port, near the Himalayas. They were given new clothing to help keep them warm as the group traveled up a secret trail through the mountains. And then, they made it to Nanda Parbat.

Carved into the mountain, the ancient citadel was imposing and deceptively small. It was only when they got inside did they realize how big it was. There were an endless number of corridors, populated by thousands of assassins, each garbed in the same armor that Nyssa's men wore. They could see warriors dueling with swords, practicing archery, meditating, and in some cases even torturing prisoners. Laurel, a survivor of torture herself, could barely make herself watch for one moment before looking away.

The two former castaways were guided to a new room and instructed not to leave there. As they were not at full health, it was decided that their audience with the Demon's Head could wait. The man wanted to see them at their strongest before he could make a decision on their fates. "You don't think…" Laurel trailed off. She didn't say the rest, but it was obvious what she was thinking.

Shado shrugged, pale and glum. "It makes sense. The League saved our lives, so our lives now belong to them."

This caused her friend to frown. Laurel reached forward to take Shado's hand, and clenched it tight. "Hey, it's going to be okay. Whatever happens, we'll get through it together, like we always do. Right?"

"…right." It was clear Shado wasn't completely convinced, but she still gave Laurel a small semblance of a smile, so Laurel counted that as a win.


Finally, the day came. Nyssa arrived to their room instead of one of her men or the priestesses, and silently beckoned them. Not needing an explanation, the two women followed her once more through the corridors. The trip seemed to take forever, until finally they arrived at their destination: a wide open space, almost like a meeting hall. Towards the back of it was a small bubbling pool of green liquid. "The main atrium," Nyssa answered their unvoiced question.

In the center of this atrium, there was a battle going on. Four assassins were fighting together in concert, using swift, fierce movements to attack as one. And their opponent, the middle-aged man that stood in the center of the fray, fended them off effortlessly, seemingly predicting every attack they made before they could make it.

Not even Slade had such masterful swordsmanship. Laurel found herself mesmerized as the man cut down his four attackers with ease. Four new assassins took their places, and within minutes, he took them down as well, before finally sheathing his blade and turning to them.

On his own, he would be an unassuming man of average height and a moderately-sized build. But adorned in ornate robes and armor, he was foreboding. He had some jewelry, the most prominent being the ring adorned on his right hand. His most striking feature, however, was his eyes.

There was no real emotion to them. None of Fyers's arrogance or Ivo's smug attitude or even Slade's madness. A sense of self-assuredness, an understanding of the world, but depthless in a way that made it impossible to discern his mood. And as his gaze settled on her, Laurel had never so small and insignificant in her entire life.

There was no question about it. This man was Ra's al Ghul.

"Are you impressed?" He asked them, voice deep but powerful.

Silently, both women nodded.

Satisfied, he eyed them both closely, even taking a moment to circle them. Laurel tried her best to keep herself calm, but it was hard knowing who this man was. One misstep, and she would be dead before she knew it, her body tossed God knows where and leaving Shado all alone in this place. And that's if they didn't kill Shado right after her.

Ra's hummed. "You are both warriors, though you are more experienced than your companion," he noted, nodding towards Shado. "You are both wondering what the price you will have to pay for your lives, I am certain. Well, the answer to that question is simple: you now owe your allegiance to the Demon. You must swear yourselves to the League."

"Should you accept, you will be trained in our ways and work towards our main objective of ridding the world of evil through death. Should you refuse, you will be killed here and now." His eyes narrowed. "Be warned: life in the League is not for the weak and faint of heart. If you believe you will not be able to survive here, then better a quick death now than the pain that awaits you on the road ahead."

Ominous words. As always, Laurel looked towards Shado, who looked back towards her, holding a silent conversation. The American absentmindedly grabbed at her neck, where her Canary necklace still hung around her throat. Miraculously, it had managed to survive the sinking of the Amazo with her, and even now served as a source of comfort. A reminder of what was waiting for her back home.

She didn't want to join the League. She didn't want to be an assassin and allow more of the darkness that had pervaded her life ever since the Gambit consume her. But she also wanted to live, and to hopefully, one day, go home. To one day see her family, and Ollie and Tommy and everyone else she still so deeply missed. To figure out what it was that haunted Robert Queen so much as he spent his last days on that life raft with Laurel, before finally blowing his brains out so she could live.

And there was only one way to do that, no matter how much she wished otherwise.

She turned back to Ra's, and spoke her answer. "I accept."

"As do I," Shado followed soon after.

"Very well," Ra's said, giving a single nod. "Once you enter the League, your former lives are forfeit, and you must take on new names. I shall decide them for you."

He zeroed in on the medallion hanging from Laurel's neck. "You shall be Taer Al-Aswad. 'Black Bird' in your native tongue," he decided. He then turned to Shado, tilting his head, before nodding once more. "And you shall be Qalnaswa. 'Hood' or 'Cap'."

Taer Al-Aswad. Qalnaswa. It would take time for her time to learn those names. But Laurel didn't have much of a choice in the matter. That much, Ra's had made clear.

"Nyssa will take you back to your room. Tomorrow, you shall begin training." With that, he dismissed them. Taer Al-Aswad, formerly Dinah Laurel Lance, found herself drawn away by Nyssa and guided back to her room. She chanced a single glance backward, before disappearing back into the corridors.


Starling City

Several months after the departure of the Adachis, Oliver found himself falling into a routine as he began his next attempt at attending college. Since he was actually serious about school this time and had been regularly attending therapy for over a year now, his grades were fine and he was on track to graduate thus far. That could change in the future, of course, but Oliver wasn't going to let it if he could help it.

Whenever he wasn't studying and attending class, he split his time between interning down at QC with Walter and spending time with his friends and family. The former had been done with reluctance at first, prompted by a suggestion from his mother. However, Oliver had come to enjoy his mentorship with Walter, far more so than whatever his father had forced him to visit the company and tried to impose the responsibility of taking over QC.

It's not that Oliver was against taking over the company at the time. He was just rather ambivalent at the idea, considering it something to be dealt with far off in the future, something he didn't have to prepare for now. The fact that his father had wanted him to run the company his way certainly didn't help. All that had done was rattle his nerves and bring out that innate adolescent rebellion.

But things were different with Walter. Walter was a far more patient and understanding teacher. He let Oliver make his own choices for certain problems and explain his own reasoning behind them. He then either agreed with Oliver's choices or disagreed, and explain his own reasoning behind his choice, using it as a teaching opportunity. He encouraged Oliver to keep an open mind and listen to different viewpoints, and formulate his own opinions. "Your father was a stupendous businessman, Oliver," Walter had told him. "But his way isn't the only way to conduct business. The only way you are going to find success is by finding your own way. So don't be afraid to speak up you mind when you feel that something can be done another way."

Oliver wasn't the only one with a full schedule — Sara was busier than ever thanks to starting her final year of college (and it was odd to realize his younger friend was going to be graduating before him). In between volunteer work, classes, and studying from numerous exams in preparation for attending medical school, Oliver was lucky if he saw her once a week. Even Thea didn't have as much time for him anymore, thanks to having finally started her first year of high school.

The only person in his immediate social circle that had remained the same was Tommy, who was as dedicated to living the rich bachelor life as ever. Content to coast off his trust fund, Tommy spent his days either sleeping or covering for his friends when their schedules got too much, and his nights partying like tomorrow. Despite all that, however, he remained strong emotional support for all of them, a stalwart figure for them to lean on. Oliver knew that if there was anyone that he could always count on, it was Tommy.

Which was why Oliver and Sara had made the time to work together to plan Tommy's upcoming twenty-fifth birthday party. It was their way of showing their appreciation for their friend, as well as serving as a suitable distraction and break from their own responsibilities. Tommy had tried to protest, of course, but neither of them wanted to hear of it.

The celebrations were going to be in two parts. The first part, which would take place in the day, would be a special lunch with all his favorite foods at the Queen Mansion with Tommy's closest loved ones: them, and their respective families. Sara had tentatively brought up the idea of inviting Malcolm as well, only for Oliver to immediately shoot it down. While the man had been kind enough to allow them to use the Merlyn Mansion for the second half of the celebrations, the reality was that his relationship with Tommy had been broken for almost two decades, ever since he had abandoned his son for two years in the wake of Aunt Rebecca's death and came back a cold bastard. All he would do was bring the mood down, Oliver had claimed, and Sara could not find it in herself to disagree.

After the lunch concluded, they would spend the following hours before the second half of the celebrations opening gifts and playing games like charades in the living room. Once it was time, Oliver and Sara would drive Tommy over to his family mansion where a wild house party would be awaiting him, the kind of scene Tommy enjoyed most. They would party their hearts out for the rest of the night.

"Well, not the entire night, at least," Sara noted, clicking her pen against her check. "We'll need to be sober after all to handle clean up."

"Not to mention whatever else happens at the party," Oliver grumbled. There was always something happening at these kinds of parties, and especially when it came to one of Tommy's. Everyone loved going to one of Tommy's shindigs, including those of much shadier motives. They would have to hire some good security for this—maybe Blackhawk?

Sara shrugged. "Which is why I have my Dad on speed dial. He knows to always be on guard whenever one of these happens."

Before Oliver could respond to that, an alarm on his phone sounded. He picked it up, giving a fond sigh when he saw what the alarm was for, before putting the device back into his pocket. "We'll need to pick this up later. I need to pick Thea up from school." Thea was attending her first year at Berlanti Preparatory for the Gifted, the most prestigious private academy in the city and the alma mater of her brother and his friends. She was still getting used to her new surroundings, so Oliver had promised to pick her up everyday until she made some friends.

"Tell her I said hi!" His friend called out to him as he rushed to the door, only briefly stopping to pick up his jacket from the rack.

"Will do!"


Berlanti Prep hadn't changed much from when Oliver had been a student there. A large campus, much nicer and ornate than the surrounding buildings, an immaculate lawn, and almost a hundred teenagers in fancy uniforms spilling out of the door as they tried to escape the confines of the building. Oliver ignored the looks being shot his way as he waited patiently by his car for his little sister. After a few minutes, he spotted Thea amongst the crowd, giggling with two girls her age, a blonde and a brunette.

"Thea!" he called out to his sister.

Thea perked up when she heard her name, spotting Oliver immediately. She quickly rushed to him, her two friends at her heels. "Ollie!"

"Who are your friends?" Oliver asked with a kind smile.

"This is Margo Harrington and Emily Van Kell. We share history and math class together," the younger Queen introduced to him. The brunette was Margo, and the blonde was Emily.

Oliver nodded. "It's nice to meet you both," he said politely. "I'm Oliver, Thea's brother. I'm glad to see my younger sister has made some friends."

The two girls giggled, blushing. "It's nice to meet you too, Oliver," Margo said, fluttering her eyelashes. Oliver dutifully ignored it; she wouldn't be the first young girl to develop a hopeless crush on him, she wouldn't be the last.

"Same," Emily added, twirling a lock of her hair.

After exchanging goodbyes, Oliver helped his sister into the passenger seat before heading to the driver's side. He gave Thea's friends one final wave before sliding in, and a few minutes later they were on the road, traversing the maze that was Starling City's streets. "So, how's party planning going?" Thea prodded her brother once they were at a red light.

"Good," Oliver confirmed. "Sara and I got Mr. Merlyn to agree to let us use the Merlyn Mansion for the party. Now we're in the process of writing up the invitations list."

"Oh." Thea blinked, then adopted a hopeful expression. "Can my friends and I go? I promise we'll behave."

Oh boy. "No, Thea," Oliver told her, sighing. "You're too young. There's going to be a lot of adult entertainment and we'll be serving alcohol. You're underage."

"But Ol-lie," his baby sister whined. "You attended these kinds of parties at my age all the time."

"Yeah, and I did it behind mom and dad's backs, and they were not happy when they found out."

She snorted upon hearing that. "They barely punished you for it."

"And that was a mistake," Oliver claimed, to her surprise. "Thea, I don't want you to turn out like me. I flunked out of multiple Ivy Leagues and blew off too many of my responsibilities. I took everything for granted — our parents, the family fortune, my friends, even Laurel." His heart ached when he said Laurel's name. Even thought it was almost three years since her passing, the pain still remained, if a little more dull than it used to be.

"Look at what happened, Thea. Dad died, and Laurel died. I was suddenly the man of the house, and completely unprepared to deal with it."

Thea pursed her lips, her mood now somber. "You're doing fine now, though."

"Maybe. But I still have a lot of regrets. I don't want that for you, Speedy. You need to be better than me."

"Which means not going to any wild house parties," his sister noted with a sigh, put out.

Oliver gave her an amused smile. "Yes. If you want a party with your friends, then you can have one when it's your birthday. One with non-alcoholic beverages and teenage-friendly entertainment." His expression turned firm. "But you're not going to Tommy's. Alright?"

"Alright," came the sullen reply.

Satisfied, Oliver turned back to the front of the curse, and pressed down on the gas.

Notes:

Slow start to this year, but that's because it's going to take a bit to pick up. Laurel and Shado arrive in Nanda Parbat and agree to join the League, which means they need to go through a training period. That's going to be fun.

Meanwhile, Oliver and Sara are planning Tommy's birthday party while Thea enters high school. Everyone's growing up (except Tommy, but that's to be expected).

Please note that Laurel's storyline is not happening concurrently with what's happening in Starling. The storylines are happening in the same general year, but that's it. Otherwise they're happening at their own paces.

Next Chapter: Laurel and Shado begin training with the League.

Chapter 13: The League of Assassins

Summary:

Laurel, now Taer Al-Aswad, adjusts to life in the League.

Notes:

Pre-Note: Sorry for not updating on Friday. Forgot about this - been busy lately with both work and working on a new fic. With Camp NaNoWriMo coming up and WrestleMania this weekend (Go Cody! Finish the story!), I think I'm going to go back to weekly updates for now, with update day being Monday.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Nanda Parbat

If Laurel had to compare training with the League to anything, it would be like cramming for law school, except a thousand times more painful and stressful. When she mentioned this to Shado, her friend agreed. "I'd rather be back in medical school," she had complained one night as Laurel treated her aching back. "That was a breeze compared to all of this."

The curriculum, if one could call it that, was staggering. In addition to refining and supplementing their preexisting hand-to-hand combat skills using the League's own style, they were required to master just about every type of weapon in their impressive arsenal. This included swords, ankhs, staffs, whips — everything except a gun, because guns were apparently "coward's weapons", as their trainer Al-Owal had told them scathingly. Laurel supposed the shooting ranges were reserved for arrows and knives only, meaning the loss of her gun in the shipwreck was not as much of a loss as she believed it to be.

In addition to the combat training, they had other skills to learn as well, such as languages, poisons, and first aid (and not the basic kind Laurel had attended classes for as a teenager). Shado had an easier time of it due to already being bilingual and a former medical student, though Laurel was never far behind her thanks to her own dogged determination. Failure was not an option, because that usually involved punishment of the decidedly brutal, if not outright lethal kind, so she was committed to doing well no matter what.

Life fell into a routine of sleeping, training, and eating, with very little leisure time in-between. What free time there was to have was usually spent treating whatever injuries they had from the latest bout of hell they had gone through, and by the time they were done they were so tired that all they could do was collapse onto their mats. Nyssa informed them that if they managed to pass their training, then they would be given another room, this time with actual beds and even a private bathroom for them to share. So at least there was that to look forward to.

Eventually, however, things became easier to handle. The number of injuries started to decrease, not because the training became any easier but rather because of their increase in skill. Languages and poisons became easier to pick up. And then, six months after their arrival to Nanda Parbat, after both of them had managed to disarm Al-Owal in a one-on-one spar, their training was declared completed. There was only one thing left to do: complete the final test.


Ra's al Ghul waited patiently in the main atrium as many of his elite assassins gathered in the room, lining up against the walls. It was time to induct two new members into their ranks. Inductions were conducted once a month, with all the potential recruits that had completed their training brought to the main atrium to face each other in mortal combat to determine who was more worthy of joining the League. The number of recruits was always an even amount; in the event an odd number of recruits completed their training in time for the next induction, the odd one out would have their induction delayed to the next one.

This time, however, there was no need to take such measures. He had four potential assassins that needed to be assessed, two women and two men. The women, Taer Al-Aswad and Qalnaswa had come here together, rescued by his daughter while she was traversing the North China Sea in search of a potential HIVE agent, Anthony Ivo. Survivors from a shipwreck, which his spies within the League confirmed belonged to the now-dead man that Nyssa had been searching for. A regrettable loss, but if it delivered him two more fine assassins, then at least some good came out of it.

One of the men was a man by the name of Saraab. He had come here after the death of his wife and son, offering the Soultaker Sword that once belonged to his lost bride. A former intelligence agent with competent instruction, he had excelled through the training as well. Ra's would not be surprised if he made it through the induction, and would be pleased if he did.

The other was Al-Ahmer. A vicious mercenary who had once been a self-styled vigilante, only to cause a great amount of collateral damage in his attempts to fight crime and eventually turned to blackmailing for profit. He had been captured by the League after attempting to blackmail one of their former members, and tried to offer his services in exchange for sparing his life. Amused more than anything else, Ra's accepted his offer and allowed him to be trained. If he was skilled enough, then he would pass induction and they would be properly able to utilize his skills. If not, then it was no great loss.

Finally, once all his elite were present, the recruits were summoned. All four entered the atrium, clad in their armor but without their hoods or masks. Al-Ahmer had a self-satisfied expression on his face, while the other three's were completely blank. Ra's internally sighed. It seems they wouldn't be utilizing the man's blackmailing abilities after all.

"Al-Ahmer. Saraab. Qalnaswa. Taer Al-Aswad. You have all completed your training. Now, you must all prove yourself to me and everyone else here that you belong amongst our ranks." He gestured to his left and right, and four of his assassins carried in two racks of weapons, setting them on opposite sides of him. "I shall pair one of you up with another of this group. You must then attempt to best each other in mortal combat. Therefore, only two of you will leave this room alive to join my service."

That caused a few reactions. Al-Ahmer's grin widened, while Qalnaswa and Taer Al-Aswad exchanged grim looks. They most likely feared being paired up with each other, and Ra's had to admit that it was tempting. Doing so would allow him one male assassin and one female assassin, the best of both categories and more coverage for the different missions the League undertook. But as the thought crossed his mind, a brief memory followed, one of himself and another young man who had once been as close to him as these two young women were to each other.

No, that wouldn't work at all. They would refuse to fight each other, he was certain, and would die for it. Such a thing would be a waste after all the effort that had gone into rescuing them and nursing them to health. If they were not up to par with their skills, that was one thing, but a refusal to fight thanks to a bond that transcended beyond their former lives was no reason to be rid of them. At least, not yet.

"Taer Al-Aswad. Saraab." He saw the former relaxing minutely, even if she was still tense about the battle ahead. "You shall duel first. Qalnaswa, Al-Ahmer, go to opposite sides of the room. You shall duel after them."

The latter two complied with his order, Qalnaswa briefly lingering by Taer Al-Aswad to give her hand a comforting squeeze. Once they were settled in, the two combatants approached different racks to pick out their weapons. Taer Al-Aswad selected a sword, as did Saraab.

Once their weapons were chosen, the two met in the middle of the room and nodded to each other in respect, before making their first swings. The room echoed with the sounds of clashing metal as steel met steel. Both were supremely skilled for the amount of training they had been given, and Ra's found it a shame that he would only have one of them in his service. Such was the unfairness of life.

Finally, Saraab proved himself to be a touch more skilled and managed to disarm Taer Al-Aswad, before kicking her to the ground. From the corner of his eye, he saw Qalnaswa tense as Saraab raised his blade for the killing blow, only for Taer Al-Aswad to swing one of her legs outward in a powerful kick, striking his hand and wrist and causing the sword to fly out of his grip and towards the gallery of onlookers. The assassins parted as the blade clanged against the wall, while Taer Al-Aswad took advantage of the opening she made to twist her body and do another kick across Saraab's side.

Saraab stumbled backwards as Taer Al-Aswad got to her feet and charged him, engaging him once more, this time in hand-to-hand combat. Now, it was her that had the advantage — while Saraab was skilled and more experienced, it seemed Taer Al-Aswad was one of those rare talents that thrived in unarmed combat. It reminded him of another woman who excelled in such abilities, one that was long gone from the League. Hopefully, Taer Al-Aswad would be easier to control than she had been.

Finally, the battle was decided. Taer Al-Aswad countered a palm strike from Saraab, grabbing his arm and twisting it painfully before outright breaking it. As he clutched his crippled limb, she delivered several debilitating blows to his chest and face, including a powerful punch to the liver. That particular strike caused Saraab to fall to his knees, which allowed Taer Al-Aswad to bring him into position to break his neck.

Saraab's body fell with an ungraceful thud, as Taer Al-Aswad breathed heavily above him. There was no applause. Ra's stepped off the dias as Taer Al-Aswad turned around and went to one knee, bowing her head. From behind her, two of the assassins picked up Saraab's body and carried him out. He would be buried in the catacombs with the rest of the League in a nameless grave.

"Well done, Taer Al-Aswad. Go join your fellows. Qalnaswa, Al-Ahmer, it is now your turn."

Compared to the tense and almost dramatic duel between Taer Al-Aswad and Saraab, the encounter between Qalnaswa and Al-Ahmer was disappointing. Much like the previous two assassins, the two selected swords, but while Qalnaswa showed the necessary finesse and grace expected of a skilled League swordsman, Al-Ahmer seemed to rely on his superior size and strength more than anything. Making a mental note to test the abilities of whoever trained the man, Ra's watched as Qalnaswa easily dodged and deflected each of her opponent's attacks.

Eventually, Al-Ahmer grew frustrated, and drew out a roar as he lifted his sword for another powerful swing — and left himself completely wide open. Qalnaswa took advantage of the opening immediately and gutted him, slicing his stomach before stabbing him in the chest. His sword dropped backwards with a clang! as blood pooled in his mouth, before he finally collapsed. Ra's nearly shook his head in disappointment. Completely shameful.

"I apologize, Qalnaswa," he said as he stepped off the dias. The young woman had gone onto one knee, just like her companion. "For having to face such an unworthy opponent. I do not know how he made it this far with such subpar skills, but I intend to find out."

His gaze flickered towards the crowd, scanning those present until it landed on Athena, who diverted her gaze. Of course. She had always been a fine assassin, but a poor trainer, and far too arrogant for her own good. It seemed another reminder was due about the need to keep her ego in check.

"Taer Al-Aswad, come here," Ra's ordered, watching as the aforementioned assassin complied, going to one knee next to her friend. "Taer Al-Aswad, Qalnaswa. Now that you have completed your final tests and have been properly inducted into the League, it is now time for you to start your duties and beginning serving our objective to rid the world of evil. You will each be assigned a target that needs to be killed and be accompanied by one of my elite as a handler to ensure the mission is carried out."

"Qalnaswa, your target is Konstantin Kovar, a strongman in Russia who seeks to overthrow the Russian government and install a new regime with him at the head. Nyssa shall accompany you." Qalnaswa looked up, before rising to her feet and nodding to him.

He then turned to the other assassin. "Taer Al-Aswad. Your target is Sumaan Harjavti, a former general of the Bialyan army, now a ruling warlord in the ashes of his former country. Al-Owal will accompany you." Like her companion, Taer Al-Aswad rose and gave him a silent nod, accepting the assignment.

"Your handlers will more information on your targets. For now, dismissed."


Laurel only had a brief moment to say goodbye to Shado before she was whisked away by Al-Owal to prepare for her mission. The man was as gruff and cold as always, but a familiar presence nonetheless, and an oddly comforting one to Laurel. For all his icy exterior, he was never too harsh, and now that she was an official member of the League, it seemed she was afforded a bit more respect.

"What do you know of Bialya?" he had asked her as they traveled to the League's private garage, where a car was waiting for them to take them to a private airport. They had changed into regular clothing, part of the general supply, and would change back into their armor once it was time to conduct their assignment.

Laurel pursed her lips, recalling years of high school and college history classes. "It's a small Middle Eastern Country, north of Iran and Saudi Arabia, ruled by powerful dictatorship under Rumaan Harjavti, my target's brother."

"Correction: it used to be ruled by your target's brother," Al-Owal said, as they made it to the garage. "Bialya underwent a revolution recently, where Rumaan was eventually overthrown and killed. His brother, however, managed to escape as the country descended into chaos over the government's collapse. Sumaan has since then been using what's left of his brother's forces to rule as a warlord over a portion of the country, and there are rumors that he intends to eventually accrue enough forces to retake Bialya under his rule. By killing him, we will ensure that will not happen and that his forces will scatter."

Laurel frowned but nonetheless nodded. While technically Al-Owal was correct, it would also serve to cause the collapse of whatever order that Sumaan managed to impose upon the populace. The man was a dictator who was presumably not much better than his brother, but his death would undoubtedly bring a lot of suffering upon the innocent. She was almost tempted to voice her thoughts, but thought better of it — the word of the Demon's Head was law, and she knew better than to defy him.


They arrived in Bialya in the afternoon, and settled in one of the hotels located in Sumaan's domain. Al-Owal confirmed there were already contacts in place to extract them when the mission was finished, so Laurel didn't have to worry about their departure from such a volatile area once she killed Sumaan. Undoubtedly, this portion of Bialya would fall back into chaos once the would-be dictator was dead.

As night neared, Laurel was given a photo and address of her target, along with a floor plan of Sumaan's compound and a general summary of what defenses it would have. She wasn't expected to fight through those defenses, but rather evade them using her stealth training. Another way of testing her skills, she guessed, an exam in the fine ink of her induction. Or maybe Ra's just gave her a hard mission for kicks.

Whatever the case, they traveled to the outskirts of the compound once the sun went down, changing into their League gear in a small cave nearby. Al-Owal would help keep the security distracted and cover her escape once Sumaan dropped dead, while Laurel infiltrated the compound proper, heading towards the direction of Sumaan's private suites. That was where the man spent most of his nights, indulging in luxury and debauchery while his people starved around him. No wonder the League wanted him dead.

The infiltration went off without a hitch. Laurel managed not to trigger any of the alarms and made it to the suites with little trouble. As she searched for an opening that would allow her to corner Suuman undetected, she paused. The sound of laughter was echoing from the doors, and she peered inside to see what was going on.

Suuman, it seemed, was having another celebration. Him and many of his best men were laying around, half-naked, as various scantily clad women danced around them or groped them. Alcohol and food were everywhere, the men red-faced with pleasure. Some of the women looked to be genuinely enjoying themselves. Others were tense, gritting their teeth as they tried to endure. It was those ones that inflamed fury inside her. She knew all too well what they were thinking.

There wasn't any need to sneak in. She could kill him right here and now, and she would. Laurel reached backwards and drew an arrow from her quiver. She wasn't as good a shot as Shado, but she didn't need to be for this. Sumaan wasn't that far, so she wasn't going to miss.

Laurel notched the arrow, aiming for Sumaan's neck.

And then, she fired.


"Well done," Al-Owal told her once they were clear of the compound and on their way to the extraction point. It was a rare word of praise from the man, and despite herself Laurel felt something warm bubble in her chest. Not quite happiness, but a sense of satisfaction. If Al-Owal thought she did well, then that meant a lot.

She didn't know how to feel about the actual assignment itself, however. Laurel didn't feel any real regret about the actual act of killing Sumaan. She knew enough about current events to know what kind of man he and his brother before him had been, and there was no chance of change from either of them. And as for justice — if it hadn't been her, it probably would've been some rebel group or another country's elite that would've killed him, and sparked the same chaos that was sure to spark now.

But she did feel regret about the lives that were about to be ruined by the loss of stability. Her stomach turned as she remembered the children running about the dirt streets, with ragged clothing and visible ribcages. How many of them had she condemned to death with her actions? Even if Sumaan's death had been inevitable, it didn't change the fact that she had been the one to kill him, which meant the aftermath fell on her shoulders.

What choice did she have, in the end? Kill a terrible dictator or let herself be killed. The decision was a no-brainer, even if the aftermath muddled the morality a bit. So Laurel selfishly banished the thoughts from her mind, even as her stomach roiled once more with guilt. She had made her choice, and her choice was to survive, long enough to make it home. And if this was the cost… well, she would learn how to live with it, like everything else.

That was what she had been doing for over two years now, after all. What did it matter if it was a few years more?


It seemed it did matter. A lot.

When Laurel had returned from her mission in Bialya and found Shado awaiting for her in their new room, shaken but still put together, she allowed herself to think, for one moment, that she could do this. That if Shado could endure, she could as well. As long as they were together, as long as they could lean on each other, then no matter how much the League took from them, they would be fine in the end. That they would still resemble themselves when they finally found a way to escape the League.

She was wrong. So, so wrong.

The missions continued. They were given more targets. Sometimes they were partnered with others, most of the time they were partnered with each other, always with a veiled reminder of what would happen if they tried to flee, if they never came back within the allotted time frame. Laurel made sure she never forgot.

Their targets were horrible people, many of which, if not all of which, deserved to die. Laurel repeated that in her mind every time she had to kill one, every single time. That they were horrible. That they deserved to die. That if they did not die, she would die, and everything she carried in her heart with her. Her last memory of Robert hung heavier in her head than ever.

But it didn't get easier. No, it only got harder. Killing people to survive was much easier swallow when they were coming at you with guns and swords, when they were threatening to torture and rape you, when they were trying to kill your friends. Not when you were killing them from behind, in the shadows, when they didn't even know you exist. When they had friends and family too, people who cared about them. Because for all they were horrible, they were still people.

"I can't even look at my hands anymore without imagining all the blood I've shed dripping from them," she confessed to Shado one night beneath the stars. It was one of the rare intervals between missions where they allowed to recuperate and sharpen their skills at Nanda Parbat. So they weren't tempted to desert during a mission after tasting too much of the outside world. "Maybe they all deserve to die, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm killing them in cold blood. Nor all the damage some of their deaths cause."

Sumaan's name hung in the air, a taunting reminder of her first assassination. Despite trying her best to not think of what she had caused, word had filtered into Nanda Parbat about the increasing intensity of the Bialyan Civil War, brought about by the death of the old government's most prominent figurehead. When she heard of the number of innocents that had died in the fighting, her nightmares had gotten so bad that Shado had been forced to feed her sleeping drugs for the rest of the week in order to get her to rest. Laurel had eventually managed to recover, but the guilt remained.

"I know how you feel," Shado replied, clinging to her arm. "Before all this, I was learning to save lives. Now I'm just taking them."

It was a profound statement, one that nearly made Laurel cry, had the League not trained her out of shedding any tears. "What are we supposed to do, Shado?" Not for the first time, she had wished she had never gotten on that boat. She missed her family. She missed Ollie. Tommy, Thea, even Mrs. Queen. Hell, she'd be thankful to see Mr. Merlyn at this point, that's how homesick she was.

But how could she bear to look any of them in the face, knowing what she had become? She couldn't even look at herself in the mirror anymore. Laurel was no longer just a desperate survivor. Now she was an assassin, a killer. A murderer.

"I want to go home," she said, as quietly as possible. Afraid that even saying another word would summon Ra's or Al-Owal or some other League fanatic and prompt them to cut her down, here and now. So much of her wanted to die, and so much of her didn't. The conflict it was making her feel was killing her as much as the killing itself was.

"We will one day," Shado said, trying to comfort her. "We just need to stay strong. An opportunity will open up eventually, I'm sure of it."

Laurel nodded, but didn't say anything. She wasn't sure if Shado was trying to convince her, or herself.

Notes:

This is one angsty chapter. We get a look at Laurel and Shado's time in the League, and it is not fun. Laurel is trying to justify her actions in order to cope with her current circumstances, but it doesn't last long and it's later clear that it's only Shado's presence that's keeping her from completely breaking down. And vice versa. The League is not for those with kind hearts, people.

Al-Ahmer means the 'the Wolf' in English, a gift from Okoriwadsworth. He's based on the character Savant, from the Birds of Prey comics. Meanwhile, Saraab is indeed Maseo, and yes, both Akio and Tatsu are dead. Without Oliver (or Laurel) around to help him with recovering the Alpha-Omega virus, both of them were eventually killed by the Triad and Maseo ended up leaving A.R.G.U.S. in grief. And like canon, he ended up joining the League to help cope with that grief. Unfortunately, he didn't make it past induction in this timeline. As for the Soultaker Sword, that's a comics shout-out to the weapon Katana uses, but whether it'll play a part down the line is something yet to be seen.

Next Chapter: Laurel and Shado receive a new mission from the League, one that will change their lives forever.

Chapter 14: The Detective

Summary:

Laurel and Shado are summoned by Ra's to join him and his elite on an important mission.

Notes:

So, WrestleMania was this weekend. Night 1 was amazing (best WrestleMania night I've ever seen).

Night 2 reminded me why I stopped being a regular WWE watcher. Objectively great wrestling, but the payoff was... sigh.

Glad I canceled my Peacock subscription last night. Not watching again for a long time. Probably not until next WM season.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The following day, they were preparing for their morning training sessions when they were suddenly summoned to an important meeting in the main atrium. When Laurel and Shado arrived to the chamber, there were already several other members of the League waiting quietly in the room. Most of those present were the elite: Al-Owal, Athena and others of their caliber. There were also a few mid-tier members, but no other new recruits like them. Feeling out of place and nervous but both knowing better than to show it, they saddled up to the back row and shuffled themselves at the end of it, near the corner, and waited.

Finally, Ra's appeared, flanked by Nyssa. He was not garbed in robes, but in his own personal armor, understated but unique. It made him look larger, stronger and more imposing, if that were even possible. "Welcome," he started, after settling onto the main dias. "You have been summoned here for an important mission: to aid me in my latest attempt to pressure the Detective into joining the ranks of the Demon and taking his rightful place at my side. We depart for Gotham City tonight. Prepare your things, and meet together in the garage in four hours."

With that final word spoken, he turned on his heel and left, Nyssa following at his heel with a frosty expression on her face. She looked angry, though for what Laurel could only guess. Once they were both gone, the League broke ranks and gradually began to trail out of the chamber. Al-Owal spotted them and beckoned them forward, no doubt to speak to them and explain who the "Detective" was.

Laurel had heard the name both during and after her training in the League, spoken in whispers with some combination of reverence, hatred, and grudging respect. But the one time Shado and her had scrounged up the courage to ask who he was, they had been sharply rebuked. They would only learn if they managed to join the League proper. Otherwise, it was none of their business.

Well, it seemed it was their business now. Al-Owal guided them out of the main atrium and to one of the private training rooms, one with no window and was considerably isolated, with strong stone walls. A powerful deterrent for any possible eavesdroppers. Both of his former students dutifully followed him inside the room, with Shado locking the door behind them once they were all inside. Now certain that they were all alone and would not be overheard, Al-Owal clasped his hands behind his back and gave both of them a piercing gaze. "You have questions."

"The Detective," Shado said first, doing her best to remain respectful and hide her eagerness. "You said we could learn who he was if we managed to pass our training and join the League."

"I did, Qalnaswa," Al-Owal acknowledge with a nod. "And now that you have been recruited for this mission, you must know, to understand how important this mission is to the League."

Both of them fell silent, waiting patiently for their mentor to speak. Al-Owal eyed them both, before he began again. "Many and many years ago, Nyssa had an older sister named Talia — the original Heir to the Demon. However, Ra's was not satisfied with having Talia as an heir. As no woman had ever been Ra's al Ghul, he doubted her capabilities to properly succeed him. He wanted a male heir, which is why he had a second child, Nyssa, only for that child to be a daughter as well."

Upon hearing that, Laurel tried not to roll her eyes. For all his skill, power, and wisdom, it seemed the one thing time had not managed to cure Ra's of was his misogyny. You'd think he'd know better, considering how many successful female assassins that had been members of the League during his reign. Especially considering one of those very assassins was arguably the greatest warrior the League had ever produced.

Unaware of her thoughts, Al-Owal continued his story. "So, he decided to change tactics and find a new male heir among the recruits of the League, who would marry Talia with his blessing, in hopes of begetting a dynasty that would lead the League for the centuries to come."

"But none of the men of the League fit the right criteria for what Ra's wanted in an heir. I was the closest, but I was the oldest of his current followers and had already dipped myself into the Lazarus Pit several times. My body was reaching the limit of how much the Pit could heal, and it was unlikely I would live long enough after Ra's to stabilize the League for my reign. So, Ra's decided to find someone else, which is when came across the Detective — better known as the vigilante called the Batman of Gotham."

That got Laurel's attention, and she had to stifle a gasp, her hand going to her mouth in shock. Both Al-Owal and Shado immediately noticed. "I take it you've heard of him, Taer Al-Aswad?"

She nodded, still in disbelief. "In my former life, I learned of him from my father. He's supposed to be an urban myth, a boogeyman used by the GCPD to scare criminals off the streets."

Al-Owal shook his head. "The Batman is no mere myth, but very real. Talia encountered him first, during a mission to kill a corrupt politician by the name of Aubrey James — the city's mayor at the time. The Detective stopped the assassination, however, and became the first person outside of the master to have ever defeated her in direct combat. Instead of feeling slighted, however, Talia became intrigued by him, and decided to stay behind in Gotham and investigate him as a potential ally or even a new member of the League."

"She ended up discovering his civilian identity as a result, and made contact with him in that identity with one of her own civilian aliases, Talia Head, becoming a newcomer in Gotham's high society. The more they interacted and came to know each other, the closer they became, until they eventually fell in love with each other and started a relationship. By all accounts, it was a joyful union."

"But Talia became so absorbed in their new relationship that she continually delayed her return to Nanda Parbat before eventually breaking off contact altogether. This caused the master to become concerned, and so he decided to bring Talia back himself along with a small contingent of assassins." Al-Owal crossed his arms. "When he arrived in the city, found himself unimpressed with Gotham's continuing corruption and devised a plan to cleanse it, only to be stopped by the Detective with Talia's aid. During the encounter, he found himself impressed by the man's skill, discipline, intelligence, and overall physical and mental fortitude. So much so that he decided that the Batman should be his long-awaited heir."

Both women frowned when they heard this. While neither of them were particularly close to Nyssa, she was still their rescuer and both felt a degree of gratitude to her for saving their lives. Hearing this story now, it was no wonder why Nyssa was so unhappy in the main atrium earlier. The entire situation was proof that even though she bore the official title, her father did not consider her his true heir. They couldn't help but be offended on her behalf.

"The Detective refused the offer, however," Al-Owal said. "The League's principles operated on the idea of replacing evil with death, and he had long since sworn a vow to never kill. But that did not deter the master, and he has never given up on the idea of making him his heir. This is just the latest of several attempts in the past two decades to bring him to heel."

Shado narrowed her eyes. "And what of Talia?"

"She left the League. The constant conflicts drove her away, as she did not want to be caught between her father and the man she loved. The master hopes that if the Detective accepts his offer, however, she will return so they can marry and properly rule over the League as he has always wished. If not, however, then Nyssa will simply take her place as his bride." The unfortunately carried after was silent but present. It was an open secret what Nyssa's preferences were, not that her father likely cared. When it came to Nanda Parbat and all who resided there, his word was law. Nyssa was no different in that regard.

There were a few more questions, some Al-Owal deigned to answer, others he deflected to be explained when they arrived in Gotham proper. But eventually, they were dismissed. They only had a few hours left before it was time to depart for the city, and they had no time to waste.


Gotham City

Barbara Gordon was not, in the moment, a happy woman.

It's not that she couldn't be. Happiness may have been harder to come by in recent years, ever since the Joker (on some kind of revenge crusade against her father) appeared at her home one night and shot her in the stomach. That in itself was bad enough, but the bullet nicked her spine and left her paraplegic for the rest of her life. And needless to say, that had left her… angry.

Perhaps angrier than she had any right to be, considering she still had her life and sanity, which was more than could be said for most of the Joker's victims. But before all of that, Barbara had been the vigilante Batgirl, fighting alongside Batman and the first Robin against crime. She had thrived in that life, prancing around in spandex while punching out thugs and supervillains alike. But eventually life had won out, and she had just opted to retire from her alter-ego to continue her studies for college, when the Joker struck. And just like that, the one thing that defined her adolescence had been taken from her, with no chance of getting it back.

Physical therapy had been a trial in itself, but Barbara was determined no matter how angry at the world she had been. And it was during those painful months as she learned to move again and live her life without her legs that she realized she still wanted to be a part of that world. To live the vigilante life, and help people, no matter her current state.

And it was that desire, that drive, that had led her to Oracle. She had always been good with computers, the best of their little vigilante operation, but her newfound disability putting her on the shelf for months meant she had all the time in the world to improve her already-expert computer hacking skills to near-legendary status. It wasn't long before the all-knowing information broker, Oracle, established herself as a powerful player in the underworld. As people courted her for her intelligence and abilities, baffled by her refusal to accept currency in lieu of information, she gradually formed and developed numerous government connections. A.R.G.U.S., Checkmate, the CIA, the DIA, the FBI — all that and more, all over the world, found themselves in her debt, one way or another.

With those very connections, she rejoined Batman and the former Robin (now Nightwing) in their crusade against crime in Gotham. She became their mission control, the one who directed them to the many crimes throughout and helped them develop plans to counteract numerous villainous plots seeking to do the innocent harm. In some ways, Barbara had become a more effective vigilante as Oracle than she ever was as Batgirl, and she felt proud of that.

But now, she was finding her new position as the team's mission control and information-gatherer a right headache. Right after her shift at the library, she had headed home so she could go straight to the clocktower that served as the base where she conducted her actual job. And like every night, the first thing she did was check her usual contacts throughout the city, trying to see if there was any chatter that she needed to make note of. And unfortunately, it was one of those nights.

Those nights, where the entire city's back alleys were alight with tension. Those nights, where what little remained of Gotham's organized crime was in a frenzy. Those nights, where even those godforsaken supervillains were looking left and right before crossing the road to their next major crime.

Something big was coming. It only took Barbara ten minutes to figure out who it was. And when she saw that damning evidence, all she could do was sigh and pick up her phone, and dial a number she knew by heart.

"Hey, Dick. It's me. I know you're busy with the gala and all, but I've got something for both of you that you need to hear, ASAP."


The Gotham Convention Center was the premier place in Gotham to hold an event — any kind of event. From blood drives to charity galas, it could support it all, and therefore had seen its own fair share of chaos in the early years of Gotham's emerging age of supervillainy. Now, almost a decade and a half since that age had fully come into fruition, the Convention Center had long since gone with the times and upped their security immensely. The best private security force in the city, the Crows led by Jacob Kane, were providing protection for the night, which meant everyone but the absolute worst of the worst knew to stay away. And there were already supplies tucked away in hidden alcoves to deal with Joker Venom or Fear Gas if it came to that, so there was no need to fear on that front either.

To that end, Gotham's elite enjoyed a night where they got to indulge in their luxury and play power games under the guise of raising funding for the poor and needy. Of course, they actually were fundraising to help all those starving children in Crime Alley and the like, but that wasn't the actual reason they were here. That was the excuse, the formality. The real lure of a gala like this, much like everything else, was the ability to flaunt your wealth and influence in hopes of increasing your standing.

It was disgusting and classist and Bruce hated every minute of it. He'd much rather be at the Bat-Cave, poring over the latest reports about Black Mask's most recent foray into international arms dealing. But unfortunately, Brucie Wayne loved these kinds of things, and he was a necessary component to making sure that no one beyond a select few knew that Bruce Wayne was Batman. So here he was, playing ball, putting on that classic playboy smile and laughing stupidly at every hair-brained joke thrown his way.

At least, until he saw her.

It wasn't long until Silver saw him too, and stiffened as well. She was just as beautiful as she was five years ago, the last time he saw her after the heartwrenching end of their relationship. Her platinum-blonde hair, so close to matching her name, shined under the lights, giving her an almost ethereal glow. Bruce, despite knowing it was over and that he had no chance, found himself entranced.

Then, Silver came over to talk to him, and whatever enchantment he felt was lost in awkwardness. "Hi," she said, stiltedly.

"Hi," he said back, a little hesitant. The thing about Bruce was that he was great at faking small talk with anyone but someone he actually cared about. "How have you been?"

"Good," she replied, then cleared her throat. She lifted her hand, and Bruce found himself stiffening at the sight of a ring on her finger. "I just got engaged recently."

"Congratulations." This time, he spoke far more blandly. "Anyone I know?"

If anything, this caused her face to shadow even more. "Evan Gregory."

"The U.S. Senator?" She nodded. Bruce adopted a tight smile. "I see. Well, again. Congratu—"

"BRUCE!"

Before he could finish, Bruce found himself dragged away from Silver, who gave him an awkward wave for farewell. He sighed and glanced over at his 'rescuer'. Said 'rescuer' was really his date for the gala, the Gotham Gazette's most notorious journalist, Vicki Vale. A beautiful woman in her own right, but it was offset by her volatile and unpleasant personality. Not that she had ever showed that side of herself to him until tonight, at least not while she was aware of his presence.

Vicki had always been flirtatious with him, hoping to become the next 'Wayne girl', except this time as the one to finally sink her claws into him fully. Normally, he wouldn't given her the time of the day, but he hadn't been able to find another date for this gala in time and the gossip columns were getting a bit suspicious about how there hadn't been another Wayne girl in a while. He couldn't go up and tell them that was because Talia and him had another bad breakup and he didn't want distract himself with another meaningless fling. The less said about the current state of his relationship with Selina, the better.

So, when Vicki pounced on him during his latest interview with the Gazette, he finally gave in to her advances and offered to be her date to the Children's Charity Gala. She already had her own invite thanks to having been tasked to cover the event for the Gazette, as did he, since he was one of their most prominent donors. But the invite came with a plus one, and Vicki had been angling to be his plus one for years now. So he asked, she said yes, and here they were. And in-between talking with the many members of Gotham's elite and trying to figure out the best way to slander them without opening the Gazette to a libel suit, she had been clingy all night, especially whenever he was speaking to some beautiful, unattached woman. This had just been the worst case thus far.

"Why were you talking to her?" she hissed the moment they were far away from any prying ears. "She broke up with you!"

"I know, but I still consider her a friend," Bruce pointed out.

"Even so—!"

"Vicki, you have nothing to worry about," he said, this time with that low, suave voice and that charming smirk of his. He caressed her check, his smirk widening just so when Vicki blushed and diverted her eyes away. "We've been over for years now. She's engaged. And why would I be looking at her, when I've got the most beautiful woman in the room right here in my arms?"

His date giggled, and Bruce mentally let out a sigh of relief. It's not like he didn't understand why Vicki was so worried and jealous. Silver St. Cloud had been the most serious out of all the 'Wayne girls' he had dated over the years. She was, perhaps, the most serious relationship he had ever had, after Selina and Talia. He had been dangerously close to falling in love with her, and some part of him, he knew, still loved her regardless.

But it wasn't meant to last. Silver had found out Bruce was Batman, and she couldn't handle it. The sleepless nights, the laundry list of injuries, the ever-present fear that came every time he went out as the Bat. The fear that told her that this would be it. That his luck would finally run out, and come morning she would wake up to find a newspaper on her doorstep, with some kind of snappy headline about his death and the fact that he was Batman. It was too much. So she had broken up with him and left Gotham, and that had been the end of it.

Bruce pushed away all his remaining thoughts of Silver from his mind as Vicki's gaze turned heated. Her eyes closed as she leaned over a kiss, and he did the same, ready to meet her halfway—

And then the door slammed open.

"Hey, Bruce," came the voice of his adopted son, recent college graduate Dick Grayson (better known as "Richie Wayne" in these circles). "Some lady is trying to call you, something about you leaving your tie and underwear at her place last night?"

He didn't have time to sigh in resignation before Vicki's piercing slap struck his face, leaving a bright red bruise. By the time Bruce managed to regain his wits, she was leaving in a huff, stomping away in her too-high heels. Wonderful. He could only imagine what the Gazette would be saying about him in the next edition. Maybe he should just call Wayne Enterprises' legal time now and have them start prepping for the libel suit.

With annoyed expression on his face, Bruce turned to his son and gave him an unimpressed look. Dick, however, looked completely unrepentant, simply shrugging in response. "It's not like you wanted to come here with her anyway," he pointed out, with a slightly cheeky grin.

This time, Bruce really did sigh. "What's the real news?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The cheekiness faded immediately as Dick's expression turned serious. That alone was enough to immediately put Bruce on alert. "Not here," his son told him, before guiding him away to outside the ballroom and into the hall.

They looked around to make sure they were alone. Bruce turned to his son and crossed his arms. "What is it, Dick?"

"Babs called. There's been a lot of chatter on the streets lately. The city's underbelly is in a frenzy. It took her a bit to confirm, but now we know why: Ra's al Ghul is coming back to Gotham."

At the sound of the name of arguably his greatest enemy, Bruce turned grim. "Wonderful," he said, clicking his teeth. "Just wonderful."

It seemed a hit piece from Vicki was going to be the least of his worries.

Notes:

Yup! Laurel and co. are heading to Gotham! If you know me, you know well enough to know I am well-versed in the Batman mythos (hence, all that stuff about Silver comes straight from the comics), so this has been a real treat to plan out and write. Batman and his family are going to play important parts in Laurel's journey from this point on, though obvious Laurel and the Arrow cast are still going to be the main protagonists.

I hoped you liked the way I wrote out Batman's past with Talia and the League in this fic. I mostly borrowed from Bruce and Talia's first encounter in the comics, though obviously I mixed it in from what we know of Talia in Arrowverse canon (which isn't much, I'll admit). Talia will be making an appearance eventually, though not during Laurel's five years.

One thing to note is that, in my headcanon for this fic, Sara was never sent on this mission. This is for two reasons. First, she's a far less-experienced and skilled fighter than Laurel at this point in time. Sara didn't begin learning how to fight until she joined the League, while Laurel started learning only a few weeks after Lian Yu. So this Laurel, even though she's a newbie for the League, is already an experienced warrior, and someone Ra's would trust more, in both being able to properly protect herself and to carry out his task for her in a competent manner.

The second reason is because of Sara's closeness to Nyssa. Ra's is well aware that Nyssa is unhappy he's still trying to make Bruce his heir, and so he didn't include Sara because he feared Nyssa, with Sara there to support her, would be emboldened to try and assassinate Bruce so she could remain Heir to the Demon. Laurel and Shado, meanwhile, do not have such closeness to Nyssa (mainly because unlike Sara, they have each other to lean on for emotional support), so Ra's has no fear of them doing the same.

Remember this. This will be important later down the line.

Next Chapter: Laurel and Shado head to Gotham.

Chapter 15: Fathers

Summary:

Laurel and Shado prepare for their new mission with Al-Owal's help.

Back in Starling, the Queens and the Lances celebrate Tommy's birthday.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Nanda Parbat

Even though League policy declared that all members were to completely discard anything and everything both physically and emotionally connecting themselves to their previous lives upon entering the League, it was not absolute and very rarely enforced. Not unless it directly interfered with a member's duties to the Demon. While devotion to the League and its principles was paramount, especially for the Demon's Head and his heir, members were still allowed some small considerations. After all, as much as they would all like to pretend otherwise, they were not drones. Drones hardly made effective assassins.

These 'considerations' took form in the few keepsakes they were allowed to have in their possession. As long as they were left out of sight and unmentioned when they were "working", then a member could keep any number of keepsakes they wanted. For Shado, this meant her father's hood, which even now she occasionally wore in the dead of night, if only to pretend she could still smell his scent. That, and the Hozen, though neither Laurel nor herself were entirely certain why. The dark memories attached to the arrowhead should surely offset the religious symbolism represented. Even now, by silent mutual agreement, they could not bring themselves to speak of Slade and the monster he became in his last days.

Laurel's keepsakes were simpler. Her canary necklace was one, and while she no longer wore it since it was such a distinguishing feature (and a potential hazard in a fight), she still spent nights doing nothing but looking at it, fingering and polishing the gold medallion. The other was the List, the small book Robert had gifted to her in his last moments, and the key to solving his death. To figuring out who had condemned her to all these horrible years of hell.

She had known about the list of names ever since she had finally opened the book near a fire and revealed the invisible link being used. Even now, part of Laurel still smarted over the shock of seeing the likes of so many criminals on this list, from Frank Bertinelli to Cyrus Vanch, mixed in with several prominent businessman and politicians. What had Robert had written it for? What was the connection between all these men and women?

The shock had only grown when they arrived to the League and she had been taught to make the very same invisible ink that had been used to write the List. The ink that allowed the List to only reveal itself when near flames, and no other sources of light. It could be coincidence, but Laurel had stopped believing in coincidences a long time ago. Whenever she had a free moment, Shado (the only person she spoke of regarding these things) and her searched tirelessly through the League's library and other knowledge repositories to figured out if there was a possible connection between Robert and the League.

There wasn't one thus far, as far as she could tell. She had seen the past and current ledgers of the League's many secret benefactors, and Robert had not been one of them. So it was more likely that someone close to him had been his connection to the League. Who that was was uncertain, and did they have anything to do with what happened to the Gambit? Laurel's head was still swimming around, trying to figure it all out.

Even now, the mystery surrounding the death of the man who had chosen her life over his own was haunting her. She needed to know what was going on, to find some way to investigate how Robert, the League and Starling (because Robert had mentioned the city before his death) were connected. But she wasn't going to find the answers in Nanda Parbat, and she couldn't risk trying to find them during a mission. If Ra's found out, who knows what he would do, considering his sheer unpredictability? And the leaving the League was out of the question, especially with Shado here. The cult would hunt them down if they tried to go rogue, and they didn't have the necessary clout to get themselves permission to leave the formal way. One was not released from their vow so easily.

There was nothing Laurel could do. She was stuck. That was the conclusion she came to as she finished packing her necklace and the List with the rest of her things and followed Shado down to the garage. As the realization came to her, another bout of desperation and despair struck her, leaving her despondent. For the first time in almost three years, she would be stepping on the soil of her home country, and yet she had never felt farther away from home until now. More and more, it seemed like the day she would return to Starling would never come.


They traveled from the garage to the League's private airport, and were shuttled into several different plans, each headed for a different layover, where they would each travel on a different airline. A way to shuffle the League so the Batman couldn't locate all their members at once and prevent their arrival. As Laurel was a born American, she had been given an entirely different itinerary of cargo planes, to avoid having to go through the system and possibly being recognized by facial recognition. So she wouldn't be alone, Al-Owal and Shado had been tasked to go with her.

Al-Owal had taken advantage of this to give them their briefings now, at the behest of Ra's. This included some key pieces of information that few were privy to but would be essential to the mission ahead.

"Bruce Wayne is Batman?" Laurel couldn't hide her shock, her eyes widening a touch as her mouth slightly parted open.

While Shado was only vaguely aware of who Bruce Wayne was, Laurel was much more informed. A party animal ever since his return to Gotham in his early twenties, the man had lived a consistently wild life that put even Oliver and Tommy's worst antics to shame. The kind of life that put him on the covers of every major tabloid in the country and made him an integral part of America's worst bits of popular culture.

"He is," Al-Owal confirmed, passing over some dossiers over to them to look over. "The flamboyant fool that the rest of the world knows him to be is just a facade he puts on to prevent others from figuring out that he is the Batman. His adoptive son, Dick Grayson, puts on a similar act; in reality, he is the vigilante Nightwing, formerly known as Robin. He acts primarily as his father's partner, though he is known to occasionally strike out on his own if necessary."

"Your primary concern, however, is the third major member of their team." He took one of Shado's files and opened them to reveal a full dossier of a red-haired woman around their age, sitting in a wheelchair. "Barbara Gordon. She used to be a vigilante like them named Batgirl, but chose to retire to focus on her education. Not long after, she was crippled by one of the criminals that Batman refuses to kill, prompting her to rejoin their operation as Oracle, a powerful information broker who gathers intelligence for them through the use of computers and acts as their mission control of sorts while they are in the field."

"You need us to watch her," Shado surmised.

Their mentor nodded. "Despite her current state, she is a dangerous component of the Detective's operation. We must have eyes on her at all times in order to sabotage any of her efforts to prevent the master's plan from succeeding, and possibly subdue her if necessary. You will visit her during her work at the Gotham City Library as college students from the local university and ingratiate yourselves with her. You will have to dye your hair and wear contacts — we have already created false identies for you and inputed them into the system."

Since they were either missing, legally dead, or both as far as the wider world were concerned. After all, their discovery risked the League's anonymity. Laurel looked down and scanned the documents a little more, and felt a sense of… something that she couldn't quite put a name to. Longing, perhaps? It turned out Barbara Gordon was the daughter of Jim Gordon, the current Police Commissioner of the GCPD and one of Batman's primary allies throughout the city. It made her think of her own father, and the chasm in her heart deepened.

Whenever there was a situation in Gotham that required the Bat's attention, Gordon would call in the vigilante using a spotlight emblazoned with the Bat Symbol on it. The Bat would then swoop in, speak to Gordon, take whatever files or evidence Gordon offered, and then sought to conduct his own investigation. It was an unprecedented and more-than-likely highly illegal partnership between a police officer and a vigilante, and in any other city it wouldn't fly. But Laurel had heard enough about Gotham over the years to know that it was probably only because of this partnership that the city was still functioning at all.

After they were given their assignment by Al-Owal, the man moved to another section of the plane. Probably to speak to the pilot and see how far they were from their layover destination. Whatever the case, it allowed them a brief moment of privacy before his return.

"We'll need to be careful," Shado noted, flipping over to another page of the document. "We're not the first ones to have tried to get close to them in order to get to the Batman. They'll be able to smell a rat a mile away."

"Yeah," Laurel sighed, dropping her chin into her hand.

Her companion glanced at her. "What's wrong?"

Laurel shrugged, and gestured to the file on her lap. "This, I guess. These people — they're fighting crime without killing anyone. It's vigilantism, completely illegal, but…"

She trailed off, but Shado understood. She always did. "I know," her friend said, reaching over to squeeze Laurel's knee in comfort.

It might be illegal. Maybe it was even wrong. Laurel had studied enough pre-law to know the statistics about vigilantism, how it tended not solve problems but make things worse. But what they were doing was also technically vigilantism, if not worse. And they were doing it through killing, something that made them both sick no matter how much the League tried to sell it as necessary.

So if Laurel had it her way, if she had to rid the world of evil through extralegal means, then she'd rather do it Batman's way. With no killing at all, just bruises and broken bones. But that wasn't up to her anymore. She had made a vow, and one way or another, the League was going to make her keep it.


Starling City

It seemed like no time had passed at all when the day of Tommy's birthday came upon them all. Oliver got up bright and early to prepare for the lunch, calling the chef Sara and him had hired to see if he was on his way to the mansion, and supervising the set up of the pavilion where they would be dining at. Sara arrived some time around ten a.m., dressed nicely for the dinner and a little harried — she was covering some of the last minute touches for tonight's party. She allowed Oliver to hand off supervision of the pavilion's construction to her while he went inside to check in on the food and the guests.

There weren't going to be many guests for the lunch. Besides the birthday boy himself, there was just going to be Oliver, his mother, Thea, Sara, and her parents. They were the closest to Tommy, and everyone he wanted present for this part of his birthday, anyway. Oliver said hello to Detective and Mrs. Lance, who had arrived with their daughter and were now conversing with his mother in the living room over tea. Then he headed over to the kitchen where the meal was being prepared to check in on the food. The Queens' usual cook, Raisa, had been given the day off so the chef could have the kitchen to himself. She had still left behind a gift for them to give to Tommy, as fond of the boy as she was of Oliver and Thea.

Once he was certain that the food was fine and on track to being served when Tommy got here, he headed upstairs to see how Thea was doing. Being barely in high school, she had no part of the preparations at all asides from going gift shopping with Oliver and Sara, so unlike them, she had been allowed to sleep in for a bit. Not that she had, in the end — she had spent half the morning doing nothing but getting dolled up for the lunch. It was strange. When he had mentioned this to Sara, she had laughed.

"Speedy!" he called out as he gave a sharp rap against the door. "Are you done dressing up? The lunch is about to start."

There were the sound of footsteps, and then the door opened up to reveal his little sister, dressed up in a cute dress with a light amount of make up on. She had her phone in hand, and a nervous smile on her face. "Hey, Ollie. Sorry about that. Just got a call from Margot about something that's going on at school," she babbled out.

"It's fine, Speedy. I'm glad you're making friends. Now come on — Tommy should be arriving any minute."


Tommy's arrival was greeted by hugs and gifts, which were settled onto a table in the living room to be opened later. Once the greetings were finished, they headed out the backdoor to the pavilion, where a round table was situated in the back, complete with the place settings Ollie had special-ordered for the day. Already the serving staff were preparing their seats and drinks. It was almost perfect — the only thing missing was wine, but out of consideration of the presence of three recovering alcoholics and an underage teenager, it was decided that there weren't be any alcohol served with the meal. Besides, Tommy would be having plenty enough to drink tonight.

The next hour was spent dining on some of the best food Sara had to taste in a while. Being best friends with two billionaires meant that she had tasted some really good stuff over the course of her relatively short life thus far, but recently she hadn't had the chance to go out with them as often as she used to. Now that she was in her final year of undergrad and so close to making it to medical school, she was more determined than ever to make her hard work count. Once she had moved past enough of her guilt over Laurel's death to finally focus on her own life again, Sara had made it her goal to become a doctor in her sister's memory. This was the next big step, one that she couldn't afford to miss.

Sara pushed those thoughts away. It was Tommy's birthday, it needn't be soiled with school work. Something that became much easier when the next course was served: baked chicken and lamb in a rich, tasty sauce. She had to audibly keep herself from moaning in delight. It tasted so good.

The rest of the meal was just as delicious. Ollie and his mother had chosen a good chef for this, and Tommy was clearly pleased with what they had arranged. He looked genuinely happy, his smiles and laughter genuine. Their friend was always the most cheerful out of all of them, but his cheer always had a touch of artificiality to them. Even Tommy couldn't be completely joyful all the time.

Just as the meal was beginning to wind down and they were about to have dessert (a birthday cake, of course), things took a dour turn.

"Moira?"

The entire table fell silent as every eye turned towards the front of the pavilion. Standing there, dressed in a business suit with a surprised look on his face, was Malcolm Merlyn. Tommy's father.

"Dad?" Tommy blinked.

Mr. Merlyn cleared his throat. "Tommy, I forgot it was your birthday. Forgive me for the intrusion, I was hoping to speak with you, Moira. There is some urgent business we need to attend to."

If anything, that caused the table to fall even more silent. Sara's jaw dropped open. What the fuck, what the fuck? Was Mr. Merlyn actually serious? What kind of asshole forgot their own son's birthday? Let alone brush it off so he could go conduct business with one of the guests? Sara didn't even have to look at Tommy to know how he had to be feeling, and felt herself becoming deeply angered on her friend's behalf.

She wasn't the only one feeling hot under the collar. Both of her parents were staring at Mr. Merlyn in disbelief, as was Thea. Mrs. Queen had a deeply unpleased expression on her face, while Ollie had closed himself off, the way always he did whenever he was furious about something. He had always been so protective over his loved ones, and with Tommy he was no different. God, Sara could only imagine how Laurel would've reacted — she probably would've gone off on Mr. Merlyn herself already. Sara was almost tempted to do it in her stead.

Putting on a polite smile that was sharper than any of Sara's lab scalpels, Mrs. Queen responded with a cool voice. "Of course, Malcolm. But I'm sure it can wait until later tonight, right?"

Apparently, it didn't, judging by how Mr. Merlyn was about to protest. But then everyone's expressions seemed to finally register, because he stopped himself and cleared his throat. "Certainly. The Palm, 7 p.m. work for you?"

"Perfect. A nice, friendly dinner." Mrs. Queen put emphasis on the word 'friendly', not that she needed to. Sara knew her well enough to know that she wasn't dating anymore, and even if she was, she had far better taste than Mr. Merlyn, even accounting for Mr. Queen's behavior during their marriage.

Mr. Merlyn gave a single nod of acknowledgement and then he was gone. Good riddance, Sara couldn't help but think.

Once he was out of sight, they all turned their attentions back to Tommy, who was looking down at his plate, mood completely spoiled. Ollie, who was sitting to his right, reached over to squeeze his shoulder. "Come on. We still got birthday cake," he said, a teasing tilt to his voice.

At that, Tommy looked up and gave him a smile. A little wan, but still genuine. Internally, Sara let out a breath of relief. Maybe they could salvage this after all.


"Disaster averted," Sara quietly declared as Ollie and her watched the house staff gather up Tommy's gifts and began setting them on the living room table. The birthday boy in question was currently playing a game of Uno with everyone else (Sara and Ollie having begged off to prepare for the party later tonight) at the behest of Thea. "Or well, salvaged. Whatever, his mood hasn't been completely ruined."

Oliver hummed in agreement, scrolling through his texts. They were from the DJ, reporting that he had arrived at the mansion and had already begun setting up his equipment. "He'll feel better tonight, hopefully."

"Yeah. Hopefully." Sara brushed her hair back and sighed. "Seriously — it takes a really bad parent to forget their own kid's birthday. I know Laurel and I didn't meet you guys until after Mrs. Merlyn's death, but I still find it hard to believe Mr. Merlyn has ever been anything but a complete jerk."

"I know," Oliver agreed with his own sigh, pocketing his phone so he could speak with Sara. "Sometimes it's hard to remember those days. He used to be so different when Aunt Rebecca was alive — always there with a smile or a joke, or with this cool coin trick he used to do when Tommy or I needed cheering up. They used to be so close."

"But then Aunt Rebecca died and he changed. He pulled away from everyone, and completely shut down. Then he went and left for two years and came back so cold and distant that sometimes I wonder if he really came back at all."

Sara frowned. "That's when Tommy moved in with you guys, right? He stayed with you while Mr. Merlyn was gone and moved back with his dad when he came back."

Oliver nodded. "Didn't stop him from staying over with me all the time, though. Mom and Dad always made sure to include him in all our family activities." He looked sad. "Tommy once told me that we've been his real family ever since his mom died. I have no doubt he still that way now, even if some part of him still yearns for his dad's love and approval."

Only for the asshole to forget his fucking birthday, Sara noted, almost scowling at the thought. What a kick in the gut. "Well, hopefully the party tonight at his dad's place will cheer him up. I've called up some of our old friends on the party circuit to attend, and they've definitely spread the word. Even if we're dialing back a lot on the hard alcohol, things should be wild enough to make sure that the mansion will be suitably wrecked by the end. That is sure to piss his dad off."

"The perfect revenge," Oliver mused, before giving her a grin. "I like the sound of that."

Notes:

A bit exposition heavy, but we'll be getting to the fun stuff next chapter. Not a lot to explain here, since the chapter has plenty enough information on its own.

Next Chapter: Laurel and Shado arrive to Gotham, while Tommy's special day continues.

Chapter 16: The Birthday Party

Summary:

Laurel and Shado arrive in Gotham and settle into their new identities.

Meanwhile, Tommy's birthday continues with a wild party at the Merlyn Mansion.

Notes:

Forgot to upload this yesterday morning.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Gotham City

The trio of assassins didn't land in Gotham International, because that would've been too easy. Instead, they landed in a private airfield in New Jersey, approximately twenty miles or so away from Gotham proper. Waiting for them was a car — non-descript, perfectly normal, a match for the normal clothing they had changed into on the plane. Al-Owal took the driver's seat and they were off to Gotham, like a father driving his two daughters to the mall or something. It was a strange picture in Laurel's head, but her mind had been going to strange places ever since she learned she would be returning to America.

About a half-hour or so of driving, they arrived at a large estate on the outskirts of the city, where a large mansion stood, with sprawling gardens and even a fountain. "A safehouse we have maintained over the years," Al-Owal explained as they exited the car, parking it in a far-off corner. Laurel had no doubt it would be gone within the hour, the plates and maybe even the paint job changed, so nobody would ever know it was the same car they used. Another way to cover their tracks.

He input a code into a keypad next to the gate, and not long after they were allowed inside. Once the entered the mansion, they found it already abuzz with activity. Assassins, both those participating in the more critical activities for the mission and those simply doing the grunt work, were scurrying around, either moving to set up their rooms or to complete some errands that had been delegated to them. Al-Owal ignored all the chaos and marched the three of them to the center of the foyer, where a desk manned by one of the mid-tier assassins was waiting. He barely peered up at Al-Owal before passing on three new dossiers.

One of those dossiers was passed to Laurel, and the other to Shado. "Your identities for this mission," was the explanation. A key soon followed, attached to a keychain with a tag, emblazoned with a number and letter. "The key to your room. The number is the floor."

With that, they were dismissed. Laurel and Shado quickly rushed out of the foyer and towards the direction of the stairs. When they made it to their room, they closed the door behind them and collapsed onto their respective beds. Not even the League's training could quite prepare for them for the horror known as jet lag.

Laurel closed her eyes for a moment and allowed herself a brief power nap before Shado woke her up to take her own. Once Shado was settled into her bed, sleeping, the American chanced a glance at the small table where the dossiers were sitting. One of them was open — Shado's. Laurel, knowing that they were required to memorize both files, had no issues taking it from the table and doing a brief read-through herself. They could compare notes together and figure out their public dynamic later. It wouldn't be hard, considering they were already so close already.

The first thing she saw was a digitally-altered picture of Shado, with brunette hair not unlike the color used to dye her own hair and brown eyes — ones that were a slightly lighter shade than her usual ones, enough to look brown instead of almost black. Overall Shado didn't look too different, but it was still a bit jarring to see, and Laurel wondered when they would get the dye and contacts and what her disguise was supposed to look like.

She then flickered down to Shado's 'personal information'. Her friend was suddenly a year or two older, her birthday no longer in June but in May, and her name wasn't Gulong Shado but rather Peng Deilan, or Deilan Peng as it would be said in the western fashion. Yao-Fei was suddenly a businessman, she was an overseas student from China, and she had no siblings. Just about the only thing that was the same was the fact she was a pre-med student. Couldn't differ too much from the truth, after all.

Laurel closed the file and set it down on her side of the table before picking up the other one. Once again she was greeted by a familiar face, except it was her own and it wasn't all that familiar at all. She had never thought of what she would like with wine-red hair, and yet here she was, with wine-red hair and blue eyes. It completely transformed her appearance, and she barely recognized herself.

Her name was not Dinah Laurel Lance, but Myra Kallen. Like Shado, she was now a year or two older, her birthday was in November instead of April, and she was a transfer student from Coast City, which was not too far from Starling. Her father was a private eye, her mother a kindergarten teacher. She didn't have a sister. And of course, she was pre-law.

It was a solid enough background, and it should hold up against Oracle's cursory scrutiny. But only cursory. If Barbara really was as good as the dossier said she was, then they couldn't afford to let her become suspicious of them and start digging. Then the entire thing would be blown wide open and she'd figure out they were League in short order. Laurel really didn't want her friends and family to find out she was alive because she was thrown in jail. And that's only if she survived long enough to be thrown in jail at all — Ra's was not tolerant of failure. Not for low-level grunts like Shado and her, at least.

Before Laurel could think any more on the matter, there was a sharp rap on the door. "Taer Al-Aswad, Qalnaswa. Come downstairs. Now that everyone is here, the master wants to have another group meeting," came Al-Owal's voice.

Laurel sighed. Back to the grind it was.


They were given the supplies for their disguises and a week or so to familiarize themselves with Gotham before finally making contact with Barbara Gordon. Laurel settled her mind using the meditative techniques taught to her by Shado and the League as she and her friend plastered on smiles and talked about some inane thing that Laurel couldn't bring herself to quite remember as they entered the Gotham City Library. They stopped speaking as they fell in line for the main desk where Barbara was working. When they finally got to her, she looked up at them with a small smile of her own, and Laurel felt the guilt pile in her gut.

"Hi!" Laurel started off cheerfully. It was agreed that she'd be the more outgoing of the two since she was the American and Shado was the foreign exchange student. "We're here to check out text books for our classes. We're studying at Gotham University this Spring and the admissions office told us to come here to pick up our books."

"Sure. Do you have your schedules?"

"We do," Shado answered, drawing out her 'schedule' from her purse as Laurel did the same with 'hers'. They handed off the papers to Barbara, waiting patiently, and once she had verified they were on the roster (lies, lies), she gave them directions to where the textbooks were.

Laurel knew better than to push for more than that, like ask for Barbara's name or whatever. That would've set off warning bells immediately. No, instead, they made first contact, and had been directed towards the books that they actually weren't going to read. Once the semester started in a week, they could start visiting the library regularly during her shift; if Barbara didn't reach out to them herself after the first few weeks, then they could reach out to her instead. By that point they would be familiar enough fixtures to allow her to let her guard down.

Weeks. They would be at this for weeks if not months, and another concern made itself known to Laurel — just how exactly was Ra's going to convince Batman to join the League? As newbies, Shado and her hadn't been made privy to the main plan, the plot that was supposed to send Batman begging to finally join Ra's' side. And the thought of that made her stomach roil.

If there was anything Laurel had learned during her time in the League thus far, it was how far Ra's was willing to go to achieve his goals. She had heard enough rumors and stories to paint a very clear picture of what kind of man her master was: a man that stopped at nothing to ensure his vision of the League came to fruition. And his vision saw Bruce Wayne permanently discarding the mantle of Batman to become the next Ra's al Ghul, and that was something that Laurel was sure he'd be willing to burn Gotham for.

After all, if those very same rumors were true, then the effects of the Lazarus were beginning to wane on the master. He had only decades left, if that. If he was to properly secure the League and ensure a civil war did not break out when he was finally gone for good, then that meant he needed to secure his successor soon. And with only one man currently pegged as worthy enough for the role, well… whatever Ra's had in store for this city was anything but good.


The weeks passed. The spring semester at Gotham University started, and "Myra" and "Deilan" started attending classes, for a given value of "attendance". Laurel wasn't entirely sure how they did it, but the League's spies managed to acquire actual assignments and notes from the classes their false identities were supposedly attending. Shado and her had things to actually work on together, even if their actual workload didn't overlap all that much. It was actually refreshing, working on college classwork again — Laurel found herself remembering knowledge and concepts that she had long since put out of her mind for the sake of survival. It made her heart ache, her mind flashing back to that half-forgotten dream of hers, where she was dressed all smartly while standing in front of a judge, arguing for justice. What could have been, indeed.

They did their "homework" at the library of course, always careful to say hello to Barbara whenever they entered the building and keep themselves in her line of sight while they did "homework" together. The "homework" wasn't all that hard to fake, really — Shado and her were just living out the lives they could have had, had it not been for sabotaged yachts and corrupt governments and what not. A part of Laurel even wished they had met this way, for all that she would never trade her sisterhood with Shado for anything.

Finally, about a month into their ruse, their hard work paid off.


"So did your dad force you to get shooting lessons too?" Laurel laughed over a burger and shake. Barbara had invited them out to lunch.

Barbara hummed in confirmation. "First thing he put on the calendar after I started puberty," she complained fondly. "He called it an early birthday present."

"Same here." It wasn't even a lie, yet it still tasted like ash on her lips. "Put me in self-defense and first aid too. 'Can never be too careful' is what he said to me when I asked."

"Must be a detective thing," her target mused. "What about you, Deilan? Did your dad make you learn anything to beat off the boys with like our dads did?"

Shado shrugged. "Martial arts. He wanted a son, and thought this was the best compromise."

Barbara blinked, while Laurel sighed. She had come to care deeply for Yao Fei in the brief time she'd known him before he was killed by Fyers, but while he had clearly loved Shado and Mei, he hadn't always been the best father if Shado's accounts of her childhood were anything to go by. It was times like these that made her want to go back to Lian Yu, dig up his grave, dump him in the Lazarus Pit, and shake him senseless about how he had treated his girls.

They kept on talking after that, Laurel and Shado both sprinkling in bits of truth with all the lies the League had given them to spew, until eventually the meal neared its end. "You can come to my place on Friday if you want," Barbara offered, not a hint of suspicion. "I'm a librarian — I'm practically a walking encyclopedia when it comes to referencing stuff."

"Thanks, Barbara," Laurel said, guilt churning away inside even as she smiled. "We'll take you up on that." "Myra" and "Deilan", after all, needed help with their upcoming midterm papers. The technical work of adding references to papers was always the most difficult part.

Barbara smiled back and gave them her address, as if they didn't know it already and had been keeping watch over it for the past month. Then she said goodbye and returned to the library, and neither herself nor Shado could watch her go without feeling sick. Under the table, her partner grasped her hand and squeezed it tight, and Laurel couldn't help but squeeze back.


Starling City

"WOOHOO!"

Oliver and Sara shared fond, exasperated looks as they watched their best friend, the birthday boy himself, crowd surf with a two glasses of tequila in hand. Tommy pumped his fists into the air as the mosh pit grew rowdier, bopping his head against the beat of the song. He continued surfing all the way to the front of the crowd, where a throng of women were waiting for him. Putting his arm around one, he gave her a sloppy kiss that was eagerly returned.

"He's going to hate himself in the morning," Oliver noted.

Next to him, Sara shrugged. "Yeah, but he already knew that. And you know how he is — he'll be vomiting his guts into the toilet tomorrow and still say it was worth it."

She got a hum of agreement in response. "You know, I think I really don't mind having to be the designated driver anymore, you know?" he mused. "Sure, having to keep an eye on everyone and make sure things don't get rowdy enough for the cops to be called is a bit tiring, but…"

"This looks tiring too," Sara finished for him. "I know what you mean." She'd been abstaining from the alcohol too, and couldn't find it in herself to really regret it. Tommy could have his fun, but she had worked too hard to throw away her chances at medical school for some cheap thrills. Sara just wasn't that girl anymore, and found herself glad for it.


About an hour later, they found themselves with Tommy again, visibly disheveled but with a massive grin on his face. He was tugging along with him a familiar face that they were both surprised to see. "McKenna Hall?" Sara said, lighting up. "How you've been? It's been forever since we saw you!"

McKenna, taller and a bit more muscular than Sara remembered her to be, gave them a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I guess so. The police academy tends to eat up a lot of your time."

"You're joining the police?" Oliver blinked in surprise, and Sara couldn't quite hide her shock either. Their friend was as much as a party girl as Sara had been in her heyday; she had once gotten them banned from a club for stripping on the premises.

She shrugged. "Hey, you two can't be the only ones ready to settle down," McKenna teased them both.

True enough. It seemed all of them were growing up. They continued chatting a bit more, with McKenna complimenting them for doing such a great job at hosting the party, before a horn sounded. Tommy's face lit up. "Come on," he told McKenna, tugging at her hand again. "They're starting the keg stand!"

They were gone before McKenna could even say goodbye. Oliver and Sara exchanged another amused look. "Mission accomplished?" Oliver asked.

Sara mocked a thinking pose. "Let's see: Tommy is having the time of his life and has completely forgotten what happened with his dad earlier, and the mansion is on the fast track to being completely wrecked by tomorrow morning." She smirked. "I agree: mission accomplished."

They exchanged a fist bump. "Let's get some food then…" Oliver suddenly trailed off, his eyes widening as he caught sight of something.

Frowning, his fellow host followed his line of sight, only to freeze when she saw what — or rather, who — it was.

"Ollie, why the hell Speedy here?"


"I told you I could get us in," Thea bragged to her friends as they headed directly to the punch bowl.

"Sorry for doubting you Thea," her friend Margot said offhandedly, glancing around the room in obvious glee. "And thanks for doing this."

"Yeah, Thea!" Emily cheered, picking up a few cups and ladeling punch into them. "This party is sick!"

She handed off the cups to her friends, and the girls giggled before taking their first ever sips of alcohol. It tasted a bit weird, but Thea swallowed it down, already feeling her head growing slightly lighter and buzzier. She wasn't sure if she liked it yet, but it made her feel so much like an adult she didn't care.

They started walking around, picking out some of the more famous guests. Thea in particular kept an eye out for her brother and his friends, knowing that none of them would be happy to see her here. Ollie would pitch a fit, like he had two years ago during the last party she snuck in.

"There he is!" Emily whisper-shouted to them suddenly, pointing discreetly at a sleazy-looking man hanging out in one of the dark corners of the mansion.

Thea immediately felt her good mood falter a bit. "Who's he?"

Next to her, Margot smirked. "Someone with the means to make tonight even better for us," she declared.

Before Thea could even protest, her two friends dragged her away towards the man, with Emily taking the lead. She opened her purse and took out a wad of cash, before speaking to him in low tones. The man smirked and took the cash, handing her a small bag. When Emily came back, Thea got a better look at it — it was filled with a white, powdery substance that made her stomach turn.

"What's that?" she asked quietly, feeling her heart beating faster.

"Like Margot said, something to liven up our night," Emily told her as she opened the bag and took out a pinch of the powder. "Come on, Thea. You'll like it."

Thea swallowed. "I'm not sure about that."

Margot rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a party pooper, Queen. Get over here."

They weren't going to accept no for an answer. Thea swallowed again before stepping forward, and begin reaching out with her hand. Just as she was to dip it into the bag, a familiar, furious voice interrupted them.

"Just what is going on here?" Oliver Queen thundered, an equally angry Sara next to him as they were flanked by two burly looking security guys.

Thea whirled around immediately, and upon seeing her brother and his friend, paled dramatically.


An hour later, Oliver found himself standing outside in the cold, Sara next to him along with a glum Thea. Her friends were no longer with them, having been picked up by their infuriated parents after a prompt call from Oliver informing them of the situation. They probably wouldn't be talking to Thea at school come Monday, but Oliver couldn't find it in himself to feel much guilt about that.

Next to the group, being restrained by two of their security, was the drug dealer that had tried to sell drugs to his sister and her friends. The man had tried to flee once he realized he'd been made, but the security guys, a pair of brothers just discharged from the army, took him down easily and managed to disarm him. Now they were just waiting for the police to arrive and arrest him.

It was a complete disaster, and the only silver lining Oliver could find in the situation is that Tommy was still blissfully unaware of what was going on, and that he had managed to find Thea before she tried her first line of coke. They would need tell Tommy tomorrow, of course, once the hangover was over and he had time to think rationally, but for now his best friend's birthday hadn't been completely spoiled. And he had thought what had happened with Mr. Merlyn earlier today had been terrible.

Finally, one of the SCPD's cruisers rolled up to the curb. The familiar form of Sara's father exited the passenger side, followed by Detective Lance's partner, Detective Lucas Hilton. Quentin took one look at the group before grunting. "This the guy?" he asked, nodding towards the sleaze.

"Yeah, Dad," Sara confirmed for them all. "That's him."

"Right. Hilt?"

"On it," Hilton said, before going over with a pair of cuffs in hand.

Quentin went ahead and took their statements, occasionally asking questions for clarification. When he was done with both of them, he asked about the girls that had been with Thea. "They've already been picked up by their parents. If you want their statements as well, I can give them a call," Oliver offered.

The older man waved him off. "It's fine. I'll call them myself tomorrow. We'll need their statements in order to charge this guy, but something tells me they'll be a lot more cooperative tomorrow than during the middle of the night." He glanced at Thea, before looking back at Oliver. "You call your mom?"

"I did. In fact," he said, looking up the road to see another car arriving, "I'm pretty sure that's her right now."

"Good. Well, I think I'll let her handle the rest. Night, Oliver, Thea," he nodded towards the glum teenager. He then went over to Sara. "Night, honey."

"Night, Dad. Don't stay up for too long at the station."

Quentin gave his daughter an exasperated look before sliding back into the cruiser, closing the door behind him. The cruiser pulled out of the curb just as Oliver and Thea's mother arrived, looking harried and worried. She stepped out of her car and headed directly to Thea, giving her a fierce hug. "Are you alright?" Moira asked quietly.

Thea nodded. "I'm fine, Mom."

"Good." And just like that, Moira turned stern. "What were you thinking, Thea? Oliver and I both told you that you were not allowed to attend this party!"

The teenager looked down. "I know. It's just… things have been hard at school," she admitted. "I'm a Queen, so everyone puts me up on this pedestal. I haven't been making a lot of friends. So when Margot and Emily came to me and asked me if I could get them into the party…" Thea trailed off, before shrugging helplessly.

Oliver saw his mother's face fall, as the three adults exchanged sad looks. He sighed. "Thea, I wish you came to me about this," he told his sister. "You're not the only one who struggled with being a Queen at school. I did too. I was just lucky enough to befriend two people who didn't care about that."

He was referring to Laurel and Sara, of course. Neither of the Lance sisters had put much stock into him being a Queen. Nor had they put much stock into Tommy being a Merlyn. "Margot and Emily aren't like that. They were just using you to get into the party," Oliver continued. "They didn't really care about you or being your friend. Just the fact that you were a Queen, and you could open doors with your name that they couldn't."

Thea's eyes turned shiny, and she crossed her arms, curling into herself. "I know that now," she said, her voice so quiet that one could barely hear her speak.

Before Oliver could say anything to comfort her, Sara saddled up to his sister and wrapped her arm around the younger girl in a side-hug. "Hey, we get it. Starting at a new school is hard. But just stick it out for now and be yourself. Eventually, people are going to appear that are going to like the person you ar now and befriend you for real," she said, rubbing Thea's arm in a comforting manner.

His little sister looked up, looking hopeful. "Really?"

Sara smiled. "Really. I promise."

The younger girl's lip trembled, before a sob escaped her and she wrapped her arms around Sara's middle. Sara returned the embrace, murmuring soothing words and noises into Thea's ear. After a few minutes the fit subsided and Thea pulled away, her eyes red, but overall looking much better. She went to her mother, her gathered her up in her arms before giving Oliver and Sara a grateful smile.

"Thank you," she told them both. "Now, I better take her home."

"Agreed," Oliver nodded, before glancing back at the doors to the Mansion. "And we be better get back to the party before someone decides to start swinging from chandeliers and breaks their head on the floor."

"Indeed," Moira agreed, before glancing down at her daughter. "And don't think you're completely off the hook, young lady. I know you know what you did was wrong and that you don't plan on doing that again, but just to make sure, you're grounded for the week."

Thea let out an audible groan as she followed her mother to the car, while Oliver and Sara exchanged smiles behind them. Everything had turned out alright, after all.

Notes:

"Myra Kallen" was an alias Dinah Drake Lance used in Detective Comics. If I remember correctly, she used it when interacting with her future husband, Larry Lance. "Peng Deilan", meanwhile, is the name used by the Wonder-Woman of China, in the Justice League of China comics. I couldn't find a comics-based alias for Shado, so this was the next best thing.

Thea, meanwhile, has not been able to get into the party girl lifestyle (or drugs) since Oliver is here and keeping a sharp eye on her. The fact that Moira isn't as hands-off as she was in canon helps. So, while she's have some teenage rebellion, it isn't to the same extent as canon and she's growing up relatively well-adjusted, if a bit lonely thanks to her status as a Queen separating her from the crowd a bit.

Things are going to beginning ramping up soon, especially in Gotham. I hope you like what we have going on next.

Next Chapter: Laurel and Shado's mission in Gotham continues, where they learn more about Ra's al Ghul's plan for Batman.

Chapter 17: The Clown

Summary:

Laurel and Shado finally about Ra's al Ghul's latest plan for Gotham, and find themselves conflicted.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Gotham City

When they returned to the League's estate and reported their progress to Al-Owal, their mentor gave them a brief nod of satisfaction. "Be careful," he warned them. "You will be in her space. Were anything to go wrong, you will be at a disadvantage."

It was wise advice. Barbara Gordon might be stuck in a wheelchair, but she was still an integral part of Batman's operation and a dangerous element. If she hadn't been, then the League would have never ordered Laurel and Shado to spy on her in the first place. Laurel kept that in mind as Shado and her left Al-Owal for their room upstairs. Now that Barbara had invited them into her home, it was decided that they could no longer watch her at night. Those duties would be delegated to others, while they would get to sleep.

An idea that lasted all but a few hours before they were woken up in the middle of night, ordered to put on their armor and meet everyone in the dining room. "The master's partner has arrived," Al-Owal told them grimly. Laurel and Shado exchanged uncertain looks.

For his plans for Gotham City, Ra's had elected to partner up with one of the local criminals of the city, a 'supervillain' that regularly opposed the Batman — like they were in some kind comic book or something. He fully intended on killing the man once the plan was completed, of course. But for now, Ra's needed him, and that was the end of that, no matter how much of affront it was to the League's tenants. Honestly, for all his devotion to the League and its code, Laurel's master could be such a hypocrite.

Once they were dressed and down in the dining room, they were ordered to line up against the walls and stand imposingly. A display of intimidation and power, no doubt. Laurel was careful to keep still and not fidget as Ra's seated himself at the head of a long dining table, Al-Owal and Nyssa both flanking him. He was dressed in armor as well, though this particular set had more ornate detailing — another show of strength and wealth to compliment the one they were already supporting.

They waited for several minutes until finally, the door to the mansion was kicked open. A tall, lanky man with green hair and chalk white skin, dressed in the gaudiest outfit Laurel had ever seen, sauntered into the room with a literal red smile on his face. Hanging off his arm was a woman with blonde pigtails and white mime paint, giggling psychotically. For whatever reason, she had a gigantic mallet strapped to her back.

One of the League members next to her leaned towards her ear and whispered their names to her. "The Joker. And his lover, Harley Quinn."

"Ra's, old buddy pal!" The Joker greeted the other man bombastically, as if he were an old friend. "Welcome back to Gotham!"

"Mr. Napier," Ra's greeted back, nodding politely.

Joker waved him off as he pulled away from Harley and slung himself into the chair on the other side of the table. His girlfriend quickly moved to throw herself all over the back of her lover's chair, being deliberate to show off her shapely legs and ample bust. "Pish-posh, none of that Mr. Napier stuff! Call me Joker, baby, that's who I am now." He leaned forward, resting his elbow against the table as he propped up his chin. "And might I say, I'm quite surprised to be here. Considering how aligned you are with Batsy, I'd figure you'd try to kill me instead in order to get in his good graces. You're still trying to convince him to be your heir, right?"

Next to Ra's, Nyssa twitched but showed no other outward reaction. Her father, either ignorant or uncaring of it, laced his hands together in front of him and tilted his head. "I am. But unfortunately, the Detective needs proper motivation to understand that he cannot save this cesspit of a city or anyone else with his paltry, half-hearted methods. You have always been the one to remind him of this the most, so that is why I have summoned you here. In this matter, our goals align."

The other man looked intrigued, the madness in his eyes wild. "True, true," he agreed. "Everyone knows how much I enjoy driving Batsy mad. In fact, I already have a plan in the works!" And with that, he abruptly turned away and shot out of his chair, directly towards one of the members of the League, not far from where Laurel and Shado were standing. Before the man even had the chance to defend himself, the Joker had pulled up the flower on his jacket and squeezed it, causing some kind of misty, green gas to come out and strike him with it.

Screams echoed throughout the room as the assassin collapsed to his knees, clutching his head. Then, those screams slowly morphed into an insane laughter as he ripped off his hood and mask to reveal his unnaturally wide grin. His face was beginning to pale into the same white-chalk color that characterized the Joker, and his hair was beginning to take on a green tint. He drew out his sword and began swinging ferociously and wildly, taking down two of his fellow assassins before he was finally restrained by four more pouncing on top of him.

It was the most terrifying thing Laurel had ever seen, right up there with Slade's Mirakuru-induced insanity. Her composure long gone, she backed away from the entire tableau with her fellow assassins, only barely resisting the urge to find Shado and cling to her with everything she had. Another horror to add to the nightmares, and this one, Laurel knew, was something she would never forget.

She wasn't the only one. Practically every assassin in the room looked horrified. Both Nyssa and Al-Owal were visibly shocked and disgusted. Only Ra's managed to keep some semblance of neutrality, merely narrowing his eyes at the scene.

Then Harley Quinn broke the tension by clappying her hands together, outright applauding what her boyfriend had done. "Beautiful, puddin'!" she exclaimed, not a hint of any of the aversion that the League felt. Now even Laurel couldn't hide her disgust when she looked at the other woman. And Ra's was honestly thinking of working with these two maniacs? When they were the very embodiment of the evil the League was sworn to wipe out? Hypocrisy didn't even begin to cover this.

"Thanks, hon'," the Joker said, sauntering back to his girl and planting a big wet one on her face. After making out for a bit, they separated, the clown turning to shoot Ra's a psychotic grin. "What do you think, by the way? I call it Jokerizing, and the gas, Joker Gas. Took some experimenting, but what can I say?" He shrugged, his grin widening. "That's the best part."

Ra's didn't say anything at first, and Laurel hoped, rather desperately, that he'd come to his senses and give up on the partnership. Maybe even declare the whole plan a wash and return all of them to Nanda Parbat. But then he opened his mouth, and Laurel had to resist the urge to scream. "It's… impressive, I must admit. I assume you have some kind of plan in the works involving this concoction?"

"I was thinking I'd douse all the Rogues with this and let them loose on the city," the Joker admitted, ambling up closer to Ra's until he was almost in the man's face. He planted his hands on the dining table and leaned forward so they were almost eye-level, ignoring how both Al-Owal and Nyssa had tensed and started drawing their weapons. "'Course, that'd be a bit difficult. The others don't like me much, you know. Any invite I send them will be thrown in the trash without so much as another glance."

"But you? You've got cred with all of them. Ivy, Scarecrow, Croc — they're scared of you in a way they'll never be of me. If you call them over, they won't ignore it." The villain leaned forward a bit more so his nose almost touching Ra's'. "And once you do, I can Jokerize all of them like did that poor chap over there. Just think, Ra's — every Rogue in the city, completely out of their minds, wreaking havoc throughout all of Gotham. If anything will break dear old Batsy and make him beg for your help, it's that."

It was a powerful pitch, and Laurel could pinpoint the exact moment Ra's had been convinced. His desperation to make Batman his heir had overridden all of his remain morality and common sense. Her master gave a consenting nod, and Laurel felt both pure revulsion and an overpowering sense of fear. He had just knowingly made a deal with the devil, and whatever happened next, they were all responsible for it.

"You can stay here at our estate to continue the synthesizing your drug," Ra's declared, and no assassin present was pleased even if they knew better than to protest. "And as for the assassin you turned, can you turn him back?"

"Nope," the Joker replied, popping his lips at the 'p'. "We could just set him loose, have him keep Batsy on his toes, but I'd rather not tip the ol' stick-in-the-mud off to what we're planning. Why? Do you need him or anything like that?"

Ra's closed his eyes. "No. Not for anything important, at least."

"Gotcha. Harley?"

"On it, puddin'," his girlfriend said, and then she drew out a gun and shot the Jokerized assassin in the head. Laurel flinched at the sound as she watched the body collapse.

"Take care of the body," Ra's said to Al-Owal, not even bothering to look at the corpse. "And get the floors cleaned. We have work to do."

It was callous and cruel, and Laurel wondered why she had ever expected anything less.


The following night, Laurel and Shado asked for a watch shift at the Barbara's clocktower, using some excuse about making sure their quarry wasn't suspicious of them. Al-Owal accepted it easily enough, which is how they found themselves situated in a far-off rooftop, watching the Clocktower uselessly as they listened in on the bug they had planted on the exterior of the building. What was important about it is that they were by themselves, with no one keeping an eye on them — the perfect place for a private conversation.

"There's no way we can go along with this Shado," Laurel hissed to her best friend, wringing her hands together in a nervous gesture. "That Joker guy is completely insane!"

"I know, Laurel."

"And his girlfriend is just as crazy as he is!"

"I know, Laurel."

"If we do this, if we follow Ra's' orders, innocent people are going to die. We can't do thi—"

"Dammit, Laurel, I know!" Shado finally snapped, turning to her friend with a furious expression. Upon seeing Laurel's shock, however, her anger deflated, and she sighed. "You're right. This is wrong, so wrong. But what can we do?"

The other woman opened her mouth to answer, only to falter when she realized she had nothing to say. Shado was right. What could they do?

"We can't protest about the plan to the Demon's Head," Shado continued. "The very moment we complain, he'll have us cut down without a second thought. Neither of us are members of his elite, we don't have his ear. Nor can we go to Batman — we're members of the League, he has no reason to trust either of us, and the moment we betray Ra's, we'll be lucky if he kills us."

Her voice softened. "I hate this too, but there's no way out of it, Laurel. We swore a vow to the League, and they'll do everything in their power to make sure we keep it."

"So what?" Laurel cried, angry tears building in her eyes. "We just suck it up and let them destroy this city?"

Instead of saying anything, Shado looked away, which was enough of an answer on its own. Laurel hugged herself, digging her nails into her skin. Despite everything she had learned these past few years, all the skills that had allowed her to survive living in hell, she had never felt more helpless. This was just like the Amazo — something terrible was happening and she knew about it, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. And worse than that, this time she was an accessory to it.

God. How had it come to this? Wasn't there anything she could do? That they could do?

"Maybe it would've been better if we had died on that ship," she whispered, scrunching her eyes closed. It wasn't the first time she had thought such a thing, or even said it out loud. But never before had it felt more true than now.

"Yeah," Shado agreed, years of exhaustion pouring out in one breath. "Maybe."


Regardless of whatever protests they now had towards the plan, they still had a job to do. So when Friday came, Laurel and Shado dolled themselves up for their visit to Barbara's. They dyed their hair, put in their contacts, picked up their clothes from the League's general supply and then used a taxi to enter the city and head directly towards the place their "friend" called home. If Laurel had been feeling guilty before, it was nothing compared to now. Every fiber of her body was screaming at her to break cover the moment she entered the information broker's home and confess everything to Barbara in hopes of stopping the atrocity that was about to strike Gotham. She only barely managed to hold herself back, and even now she was wondering if that was the right thing to do.

Barbara greeted them inside with a smile, guiding them to the dining table in her kitchen where a few pizza boxes were stacked up. She had gotten them food to eat while they worked on their "papers". How kind of her.

Their host passed them some paper plates and cups so they get water. They accepted the refreshments gracefully as they settled down and took out the drafts for their papers. Barbara produced some kind of writing guide from out of nowhere, and before Laurel knew it they were sinking into the familiar lines of school work.

It was relaxing, in a way. Something to keep both of their minds occupied and away from everything having to do with the Joker and his girlfriend and that chemical weapon he was producing for their master. The one that was going to ruin this city, all so Ra's could finally have his long-awaited heir, even though he had two perfectly good ones already. But of course, they were women, so what good were they really?

Laurel had never particularly liked the man that had forced them into his service. Whatever gratitude she still felt for her life being saved was directed at the person who had actually saved Shado and her: Nyssa. Ra's was just someone who had taken advantage of that to add two new soldiers to his little private army. And everything that had happened since their arrival to Gotham had done nothing to improve her opinion. Quite the opposite, in fact.

But in the end, her opinion didn't matter. Ra's was the undisputed master of the League. No one, not even Nyssa, dared to defy even the smallest of his orders. To do so meant death, or worse. So if he wanted to partner up with the Joker to ruin this city and force Batman to play his game, then they had no other option but play along and hope Batman managed to find some way to win anyway. It was a bitter thought, and it made Laurel want to take the nearest thing she could find and throw it at the wall.


They were just about done writing the last of their bibliographies when it happened. Laurel was scribbling down her last entry, making sure that she accounted for everything: the author, the title, the publisher, the year. Every single detail that those little citations demanded. It was ridiculous, but academic integrity was what gave colleges legitimacy, so they had to go along with it.

"And… done!" Laurel chirped, putting the final period before clicking her pen closed and setting it down next to the page. She would have to type this up later (or rather, have someone at the League type it up) to help sell the ruse once Barbara gave it another look over.

"I'm done too," Shado said, putting the finishing touches on her paper. She set her own pen aside and stretched her arms behind her. "That was… tedious."

"The joys of academic rigor," Barbara joked, and all three women laughed.

"Well, we better get going soon," Laurel said once the laughter subsided. "The dorm doesn't have a curfew but I'd rather not get stuck in Gotham traffic in the middle of a Friday night."

"Here here," Shado called out, and the two best friends exchanged grins.

"Alright, Myra. But first, let me get some take out boxes for you and Deilan. There's no way I'm going to be able to eat all this pizza on my own, so I might as well give it to you."

Internally, Laurel cringed. There was no way that pizza would make it pass the security checks at the estate. "Oh, Babs. You don't have to do that."

Barbara waved her off. "It's fine, guys. Like I said — I can't eat it all on my own. Might as well share it."

She moved to the kitchen, opening up one of the lower cabinets. But rather than reaching for some take out boxes, Barbara discreetly moved her hand to the top of the cabinet, where a button was waiting. She pressed it, and before Laurel and Shado knew it, they suddenly found their wrists and ankles restrained by metal bands that had suddenly popped out of their chairs.

"Barbara!" Laurel called out, shocked. Did she know?

Their "friend", who quite clearly no longer considered them her friends anymore, returned, her glasses glinting dangerously as she leveled a shotgun at them. Both Laurel and Shado froze at the sight. "Alright, 'Myra', 'Deilan'," the other woman started, her eyes narrowed. "It's time we start being honest with each other."

"What do you mean, Barbara?" Shado asked, trying to keep their cover.

"Stuff it. I know you two are League."

Shit. Laurel knew it was a lost cause at this point, but still. "'League'? Babs, I don't know what you mean—"

The click of the shotgun cut her off. "Enough with the bullshit. Start. Talking."

There really was no way out of it. The jig was up. Laurel and Shado exchanged looks, and sighed. "We were only sent here to observe you and make sure you weren't close to discovering the League's plan or our current location," Shado explained for both of them. "Perhaps subdue you if necessary, but no more than that. The master does not want you harmed in any way."

Barbara scowled. "And why is that? Does he feel pity for a cripple?"

Laurel shook her head. "No. He still feels there is a use in the world for a powerful information broker like you. He was hoping that once Batman sided with him, he could convince you to establish ties with the League so they could utilize your services. We would be able to locate our targets much more easily with your help."

"Wow," the other woman droned out sarcastically. "I'm glad to see he's become so progressive over the past few years."

She still had her shotgun aimed at them. Laurel swallowed. "What are you going to do with us?"

"Send you to the jail, of course," Barbara answered. "I've already signaled Batman. He'll be coming to pick you up soon. Once we know everything about Ra's' newest little plot, he'll take you to the GCPD, and they'll send you to Blackgate."

Where they would certainly be killed by whatever agents Ra's had in the prison, no doubt. The man couldn't afford any loose ends. Which meant they had to figure a way out of this now, before Batman came and took them away.

Or maybe not. Maybe they should let Batman capture them. Tell him everything and let the GCPD arrest them. Sure, they were screwed the moment they hit Blackgate, but with their information Batman and his team would assuredly be able to stop Ra's and the Joker. Gotham would be saved. They'd be dead at the end of it, but at least they wouldn't be a part of this anymore.

Laurel wasn't really thinking straight at this point. But did it really matter in the end? No matter how this turned out, they were going to be six feet under either way.

I'm sorry, everyone, she thought, her mind flashing to her family and Ollie and everyone she had left behind in Starling. To Shado and Robert and Yao Fei, and even Slade. She had made it this far, but it seemed this was the end of the line.

But then the windows of the house suddenly shattered. Everyone winced, bracing themselves for the spray of glass. A man in League armor swung into the room, kicking away Barbara's shotgun and knocking her wheelchair over, causing her to fall to the floor. He then moved to free Laurel and Shado, using his sword to rend the metal open. Laurel glanced up at him, meeting his eyes, and gasped in shock. "Al-Owal?"

"I was keeping an eye on you both," he said, his tone neutral. "Making sure that you did not stray from the League's path."

They were freed not long after. Both of them allowed themselves one final glance at Barbara before grabbing Al-Owal and allowing him to take them outside. Another car was waiting for them in the alley, this one a black SUV with tinted windows. The three assassins quickly filed inside, Al-Owal taking the driver's seat while Laurel and Shado scrambled into the back.

"Thank you, Al-Owal," Shado said in gratitude to their unexpected savior.

"Yeah. Thanks," Laurel added, crossing her arms. "So what now?"

Their mentor sighed. "Even though you did relatively well for your level of experience, you still failed the mission," he admitted. "I will need to report this to the Demon's Head. What happens after that is up to him."

The two best friends exchanged another round of grim looks at that. They might've been out of the frying pan, but it seemed they had only landed back into the fire instead.

Notes:

All Gotham, this chapter. There was a lot, obviously, and I really wanted to illustrate the despair both Laurel and Shado were feeling for having to be a part of this. And of course, show Laurel's growing disillusionment with Ra's. That's going to play a part later down the line too.

As for why Laurel and Shado didn't just kill themselves, it's because the League doesn't have cyanide teeth. They use poison, something neither of them had on their person at the time. Plus, they were restrained. So there's that, at least.

The Lauriver Discord noted how odd it was Al-Owal had such a significant role in this year, and I had to admit I was surprised too. Normally, people have Nyssa do it but I wanted to experiment a little. Having Nyssa befriend Laurel and Shado like she befriended and later fell in love with Sara in canon felt too much like a rehash. Al-Owal, meanwhile, is something of a blank slate beyond being Malcolm's trainer, so I felt I could mold his personality as I pleased.

Next Chapter: Laurel and Shado are forced to report their failure to Ra's.

Chapter 18: Breaking Point

Summary:

Laurel and Shado return to the League's estate in failure.

Meanwhile, back in Starling, Tommy's birthday party finally begins winding down.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Starling City

"You guys," Tommy hiccuped, thoroughly dazed, "are awesome."

His two best friends exchanged amused looks as they half-carried him to his room. It was three in the morning, and only now was Tommy's late-night birthday party was beginning to wind down. Most of the guests had already left; those still here were either waiting for their own rides, or were already unconscious and being collected by the staff to sleep things off in the guest rooms. Mr. Merlyn would have quite the nasty surprise waiting for him if he showed up in a few hours. Secretly, both Oliver and Sara hoped that he hated it.

After settling Tommy under the covers of his bed at the mansion and making sure he was fast asleep, the two hosts turned off the lights and headed outside back to the mansion proper. All around, the staff (both Mr. Merlyn's personal staff and the staff they had hired specifically for the party) were cleaning up trash and stains. "Too bad about that Van Gogh," Oliver noted, peering at a ruined painting smothered with punch.

"And that vase," Sara added, gesturing over at a pile of broken pottery, soil, and plants. All of it was being swept up into a bag, probably so the owner could figure out what to do with it later. "Think Mr. Merlyn is going to have it restored?"

"If it can be — if it can't, then he'll just buy a new one." Oliver shrugged. "Either way, he's going to pay a pretty penny for it."

Sara thought that over for a moment. "…Good."

Her best friend cracked a grin. "I agree. And if he tries to force Tommy to pay it, I'll just pay it off myself."

"Perfect," Sara said, scowling. "Serves him right for… well, yesterday, I guess." If there was anything late night parties were good for, it was screwing up the internal clock.

"Yeah." Oliver checked his watch. "But enough about that. We better get this place cleaned up soon so we can head home to sleep. Still got class on Monday."

"Right."


By the time the mansion was approaching somewhere close to clean, it was almost sunrise. Out of nostalgia and remembering how gorgeous the view of Starling City was from the hill the Merlyn Mansion sat on, Oliver found himself walking outside to stand near the edge, taking in the orange and golden rays that were beginning to peak over the horizon. After a few minutes, he found himself joined by Sara, who was similarly entranced.

"Been a while since we did this," she noted fondly, putting her hands on her hips. "How many times did we come here as kids, trying to watch the city or stare up the stars?"

Oliver chuckled. "Almost every weekend, and I still say it wasn't nearly enough," he claimed. "Laurel used to love coming here. She'd always bring that book of constellations from the library with her so she could point them out to us. If I remember correctly, I eventually gave her a copy as a birthday gift so she didn't have to keep checking it out and worrying about the due dates."

"I remember that!" Sara exclaimed. "It's still in her room, you know."

"Really?" Oliver looked at his friend in surprise.

Sara nodded. "Yup. It's all well-worn and bookmarked. I remember one time she took it with us during a family camping trip so we could do stargazing. She always made up the best stories about them, though I'm pretty sure half of them were sanitized versions of the actual myths."

The Queen scion shook his head, expression completely bittersweet. "That sounds just like her."

"Yeah," his friend agreed, sighing longingly.

For a brief moment, they allowed themselves to keep watching the slow sunrise, reminiscing of their lost loved one. They then turned to each other, and smiled tentatively. "I used to have a crush on you back when we were teenagers, you know," Sara suddenly blurted out awkwardly, rubbing her arm in a nervous fashion.

Oliver blinked, and blushed, flattered. "Really?"

"Really. If you haven't noticed, Ollie, you're really hot. Like, super hot."

That caused his blush to deepen. "Thank, Sara. You're very beautiful yourself."

The admission caused Sara to blush in return. For a brief moment, they stared into each other's eyes, sharing a held gaze. Before either of them realized it, they were closing their eyes and leaning in for a kiss.

Laurel…

As the memory of that familiar green-eyed gaze passed through his head, Oliver felt his lips touch Sara's for a brief moment. They lingered like that for a few awkward seconds, before separating with a sigh. Their eyes met again, their smiles this time sad and full of understanding.

"No," Oliver sighed.

"Yeah," Sara agreed, closing her eyes briefly. "There's… there's nothing there."

"And I can't stop thinking about her."

"Neither can I."

He cared for Sara. He truly did. She was his closest female friend, now that Laurel was gone. But Laurel was still in Oliver's heart, and Sara was more than some replacement for her sister. It wouldn't be fair to her to try something when it was still her sister he really wanted in the end.

"I loved her so much, Sara," Oliver finally said, feeling tears prickling in his eyes. "Hell, I still love her. She was the love of my life. And every time someone brings up the idea of dating, or marriage, or kids, or anything else like that, my mind always goes back to her. I can't imagine being with anyone else but her right now. And it's not fair to you or to me to start anything because of that."

Sara, thankfully, didn't look offended at all. No, instead she looked like she completely understood. "It's fine, Ollie. I get it. And can honestly say right now that whatever feelings I might have had for you died with Laurel — this just proves it." She shrugged, looking tired.

"Just thinking about being with you makes me feel like I'm betraying my sister, and that's not something I can live with anymore. Not after everything that's happened." Maybe in another life, they could have had something. But in this life, it just wasn't going to work out. And honestly, perhaps they were all the better for it.

"Friends?" Sara asked.

"Best friends," Oliver reaffirmed. "Always and forever."

This caused the young woman to smile, and the two shared a heartfelt hug. They stayed like that for a minute or two before pulling away, and then Sara looked up at him in concern.

"Do you think you're going to ever date again?"

Oliver shrugged, not bothering to answer. He really wasn't sure. Even just the thought of so much as a one-night stand sounded exhausting to him right now.

"Well, that's your choice," Sara noted, a bit sadly. "But Laurel wouldn't want you to be hung up on her forever, Ollie. She would've wanted you to be happy."

"I know, Sara," he admitted. "And maybe, one day, I'll find someone that I could come to love as much as I did her. But for now… I'm just not ready."

It was his final answer on the matter, at least for now. Sara still didn't look exactly happy, but it wasn't a no, so she didn't press the matter further. Oliver supposed he should be grateful for that, at the very least.


Gotham City

"Disappointing, but not entirely unexpected."

Laurel tried not to stiffen at those words. Ra's didn't sound angry or disappointed, to be honest. More annoyed than anything else. It wasn't exactly a promising sign, since Ra's wasn't above killing petty annoyances if he was irritated enough. But it was something to hold onto, the faint hope they wouldn't be killed for their failure. Though honestly, Laurel was still debating whether or not being spared would be a good thing. Would it better to be dead than a party to what was to come?

"If I am to be completely honest with myself, it is my fault for sending two of the more inexperienced members of the League to survey her," he mused out loud. "Do not fret, Taer Al-Aswad, Qalnaswa. You will not be killed for this failure."

Both of them almost let out a sigh of relief, but held it in. They did not want to push their luck.

"Nonetheless, some punishment will be warranted later. Twenty lashes to the back will be dealt to both of you once we return to Nanda Parbat," Ra's declared. "For now, however, you are dismissed. Tomorrow night, you will help guard the Joker's fellow supervillains when we gather them up for his plan."

With that, he waved them off. Laurel and Shado both kept their heads bowed as they left the dining room, only allowing themselves to relax when they had climbed up the stairs and returned to their own room. The moment they were inside, they both collapsed onto their beds, exhausted.

"I am not looking forward to those lashes," Laurel groaned.

"Neither am I, but it could've been worse," Shado pointed out.

That only caused her friend to groan louder. "Don't remind me."


Neither of them wanted to guard the 'supervillains' (something Laurel still couldn't believe were a thing, even accounting for all the weird crap she had been dealing with the last couple of years). After what happened at Barbara's, all they wanted to do was to head back to Nanda Parbat, take those damn lashes, and spend the next several months doing nothing but training drills, since actually leaving the League was not an option. But unfortunately, the word of the Demon's Head was absolute, so they didn't bother putting up any sort of a protest.

The following afternoon, Laurel and Shado found themselves bussed to a large, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Most of the mid-tier members were with them, having also been tapped to play as security guards. The rest of Ra's and his elite were following along in cars and motorcycles in intervals and from different routes in hopes that Batman wouldn't be able to track them down before it was too late.

It was here at this very warehouse where all of Gotham's Rogues were to meet at the behest of Ra's al Ghul for his latest grand plot to claim the Batman as his heir. Of course, the Rogues were unaware of the actual role they were meant to play here, but that was just a minor detail in the grand scheme of things. By the time they realized what was going on, it would already be too late.

Laurel stood at attention in full League uniform near a corner of the warehouse with Shado. They were about at the halfway point on one side of the warehouse, in-between two windows where one could hear the ever growing mass of humanity outside. Finally, the doors opened, and Gotham's most vile and villainous trekked inside.

Rambunctious, chaotic, and loud, they had to be the most eclectic group of individuals Laurel had ever seen. She struggled not to outright stare as she filed each and every face that stood out in her mind. There was one woman with red hair and green skin wearing dress made out of literal leaves; a blue-skinned man with red-tinted goggles and a jar over his head; and another man with some kind of scarecrow get-up that everyone was giving a wide berth.

And those were the more normal members of the group. Laurel swore she saw a huge, gigantic crocodile-man stomping along with the crowd, side-by-side with a similar-sized orca woman. Another man with a half-scarred face sauntered in, absentmindedly flipping a coin, followed by a literal bat-man flying inside to perch on the ceiling beams.

None of these people could be called anything close to resembling normal. What kind of place was Gotham to produce criminals like this? And why hadn't the rest of the world heard of any of them? It just didn't make sense. If Batman had to fight people like this every night, then it was no wonder Ra's was obsessing over making him his heir. No regular vigilante could handle dealing with these kinds of enemies even with a respectable team backing them, let alone do it for almost a decade straight.

After the endless parade of insanity ended and all the villains were accounted for and inside, Ra's, standing on a walkway near the back of the warehouse and overlooking the entire crowd, signaled for the doors to be shut. There was a brief furor at this, but eventually it calmed down. Once it did, he began to speak.

"Welcome, villains of Gotham," he intoned loudly, his voice echoing through the relative silence. "For those few of you not yet aware of my identity, I am Ra's al Ghul, leader of the League of Assassins."

"I have summoned you all here to request for your aid. As many of you know, I seek to claim the Batman as my heir, as the next Ra's al Ghul. However, for over a decade he has declined all of my overtures and spited me at every turn."

The crowd rumbled upon hearing this. Ra's allowed it to pass before speaking again. "No longer. It is time for him to take his rightful place by my side. And in order to do that, I shall need your help. Do not fear — I shall not turn on you when the deed is done and Batman has finally accepted my offer. Once he has conceded to my demands, you will have free reign over this decadent city, to do as you please. No longer will you have to fear reprisal from the Bat."

Which is only because he intends to wipe Gotham off the map once Batman agrees to be his heir, Laurel noted grimly as the crowd of villains cheered. He didn't say as much, but reading between the lines, it was obvious. Gotham had remained a corrupt mess for the past several decades even with Batman trying to combat the tide, and part of the ritual to become Ra's al Ghul was to wipe out the prospective heir's hometown so they could discard whatever previous ties to their former life that they had left. These supervillains wouldn't have long to celebrate their victory before Ra's killed them all.

The raucous applause continued for several minutes… up until the Joker sauntered up the walkway. The very moment the clown was spotted, a massive, horrified hush fell upon everyone present. Joker himself already had a shit-eating grin on his face as he slung his arm around an unmoved Ra's. "I know, I know! Isn't it great how kind and generous my partner is?"

There was a brief beat of silence before the crowd roared once more, this time in anger and rage. They had been completely bamboozled, and each and every single one of them knew it. Some tried to escape the warehouse, others moved to attack Ra's and Joker once the realization hit.

But it didn't matter. Massive, see-through barriers dropped from the ceiling, over every side of the warehouse. They boxed the villains in completely, while also protecting the members of the League from what was about to come. Soon after, several smoke generators protruded from the top of the building, and began emitting a ghastly green gas.

People collapsed as they breathed in the fumes, beginning the very same transformation that had terrified Laurel the first time she had seen it all those days ago. Next to her, she could feel Shado growing equally tense besides her. Glad to see she wasn't the only one being freaked out right now.

As more and more began to fall and Jokerize, Ra's straightened himself up. "Everyone, prepare yourselves! Once they are all transformed, we shall unleash them upon the city."

"Ah, ah, Ra's-y baby," the Joker cut in, popping his head in front of the other man. "We still got a few more that we need to cover."

The master frowned. "Who?"

The Joker smiled… and then, faster than a bullet, he squeezed the flower on his jacket. He had been careful to make sure the ornament was as close as possible to Ra's' face, so the older man couldn't get away. Before the centuries-old assassin could react, he found himself collapsing from a faceful of Joker Gas, screaming and laughing his head off as he slowly began to transform.

"FATHER!" Nyssa screamed as she drew out her sword to cut the traitor down. She didn't get the chance, as she suddenly found herself whirled around by an unnaturally strong hand. Athena, pasty-skinned with grass-green hair, held a canister in front of her as she sprayed the rightful Heir to the Demon in the face. The younger woman collapsed like a marionette with her strings cut, clawing away at her skin as she screeched.

And just like that, it was as if a dam had broken. Several assassins, clearly Jokerized before the chaos in the warehouse started, revealed themselves and began attacking their fellows. Laurel and Shado broke ranks as they drew their respective weapons to ward off their fellow assassins, wide-eyed and terrified.

"Taer Al-Aswad! Qalnaswa!" They kicked away two Jokerized assassins to see Al-Owal charging towards them, several more Jokerized assassins chasing after him. "To the window! We must flee!"

The two women didn't need to be told twice. Laurel led the way, cutting down any assassin that came near while Shado shot down those farther up the walkway. They were about three-fourths of the way there before a loud, shocked cry and an audible thud! caught their attentions, causing them to pause their escape as they looked back to see what happened. Al-Owal had been caught by the leg, falling face first as he was dragged away into the clutches of his corrupted comrades.

"AL-OWAL!" Laurel and Shado shouted, ready to run back to help their mentor.

"NO!" Al-Owal's own shout stopped them He glared up at them, waving at them to flee. "GO!" That was the last thing he said, before he disappeared into the thriving mass. The last thing either woman heard was his scream, following by the growing sound of hysterical laughter.

Terrified and afraid, the two friends charged through the throng once more as they continued running towards the window, kicking and punching away any Jokerized assassins that got in their way. They made it to their destination, but before one of them could get the window open they found themselves cornered by more assassins. Shado began firing arrows from her quiver at a rapid pace while Laurel tried unlock the glass opening.

She just managed to get the lock off when heard another startled cry. Laurel whirled her head around just in time to see Shado, now completely bereft of any remaining arrows, trying to use her bow to whack away their attackers. Normally she would've just sheathed the bow and drawn her sword instead, but her opponents weren't giving her enough breathing room to do so.

Laurel darted forward with her own sword to help her friend, but she only managed to cut a few down before even more assassins, including Al-Owal, Athena, Nyssa, and to their collective horror, Ra's joined the throng. Before she knew it, she saw one of them grabbing her sword by the blade and pulling her in. Laurel tried to pull it back towards herself with all her might but it was no use. She let out a gasp of shock as she found herself tumbling forward into their waiting arms…

…Only to find herself dragged back. Two powerful arms grabbed the back of her armor and hauled her away, tossing her towards the wall, near the window. Laurel struck the surface with an audible groan, rubbing the back of her head to soothe the newfound bruise. She opened her eyes just in time to see her savior, Shado, seized in her stead as she was trying to get away, and felt herself jerk forward suddenly as she tried to stop what was about to happen. "NO!"

"RUN, LAUREL!" was Shado's final cry as her face disappeared in a cloud of green gas.

"SHADO!" Laurel screamed, running towards her friend. "SHADO!"

The world was louder than ever around her, and yet things never sounded so silent. She was grabbed by both sides and frog-marched forward, one foot in front of the other no matter how much she struggled. As her approach continued, she saw the crowd in front of her part, as a body slowly began to rise up.

Shado. But not as Laurel knew her. Gone were her kind, wise eyes and the gentle demeanor that was so effective at hiding the steel beneath. No, instead Shado's lightly-tanned skin was now as pale as the moon, her lips a cherry red. Her long hair was frazzled with a dark green tint. But most horrible all was her gaze, filled with madness that put even Slade to shame.

Laurel froze for one, terrible moment.

Then Shado laughed. A horrible, cruel laugh.

And then Laurel screamed.

Notes:

Cliffhanger! Man, I love a good cliffhanger, and this might be my best one yet.

First, though, Oliver and Sara. While Laurel/Oliver is the endgame, I felt it made sense narratively to briefly touch on the possible feelings between these two, seeing as Sara did admit to having a crush on Oliver at the beginning of the story. Here, while they might have had something in another life, it's very clearly that Laurel's death has warped whatever feelings they might have had for each other. Oliver is still in deep mourning over Laurel and can't stop thinking about her, and Sara is not much better off. The fact that the prelude to their 'almost kiss' was a conversation about Laurel pretty much shows that.

Now, with this confirmation that it isn't going to work out, the two of them free to move on with their lives. Which is good, because the following year is going to be a Sara-centric year on the Starling side. I won't spoil what's going to happen, but it's a major arc that's important to her character development, to say the least.

Anyway, that's going to be the last of the Starling side for this year. The rest of Year 3 is taking place in Gotham. And as you can see, we're in for a wild ride.

Next Chapter: It's all up to Laurel now.

Chapter 19: Desperation

Summary:

In the midst of a spiraling situation, Laurel finds herself on her own for the first time in a long time, and reaches out to an unlikely ally for help.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Gotham City

If there was one thing Laurel and Shado never talked about, it was the Amazo.

There were just too many bad memories tied to those days. Everything involving the Mirakuru, Slade's gradual descent into insanity, the trauma of thousands of gallons of sea water slamming into them all out at once… it was just too much. So it had been easier to just forget. Forget, and just pretend it had only ever been the two of them.

Maybe it hadn't always been the two of them. Maybe that had been a lie they told themselves to make themselves feel better about what had happened to the third member of their little island family. But it was only the two of them now, and that was the only thing going through Laurel's mind as a power, that power, the power that had consumed her in the middle of the Amazo's brig and brought even a super soldier to his knees, swallowed her up once again.

Because there was another reason why they never spoke about the Amazo. And that was because of what happened before Shado had stabbed out Slade's eye—what Laurel had done to free her friend from Slade's grasp, before he could choke Shado to death. Something that had managed to rend metal and shatter bones and leave her completely exhausted, unable to comprehend what, exactly, had happened.

Laurel had thought it an illusion. A dream. Some kind of weird hallucination she had in a moment of great stress. Or maybe those were lies too, another way to ignore the elephant in the room so she could make it through the day. Whatever the case, what happened that day had been real. And she couldn't pretend any longer, no matter how much she still might want to.


"SHAAAAAAADOOOOOOOOOO!"

The sonic energy imbued in Laurel's screech was immense, far exceeding the amount she had used on the Amazo. It stretched across the entire warehouse, reverberating across every surface. Even the Joker and Harley Quinn, both of whom had been standing on the other side of the building, couldn't help but notice. They were struck speechless as the glass barriers shattered under Laurel's super-powered scream.

As for the Jokerized assassins who had been in the process of cornering her, they suddenly found themselves repelled away from their quarry thanks to the sheer force. The lingering gas was similarly stopped from reaching her, while Laurel herself was literally blown off her feet, smashing through the window she had been trying to open earlier. It was only thanks to her League armor that she wasn't harmed by the glass shards.

Right after that, Laurel found herself saved from her attackers but now plummeting to her death. On sheer instinct, she managed to angle her body so she was now facing the ground instead of the sky, and use her new power for a second time. The force of her sonic scream struck the concrete below, gradually slowing her descent until she was almost floating. Upon that realization, she stopped screaming, instinctively landing on her feet.

What… what just happened? Laurel wondered as she grasped her chest, wide-eyed. But before she could really think about it, a roar from inside the warehouse reached her ears, causing her to flinch as she remembered the current situation.

Pushing away her shock in her desperation to get away, Laurel found one of the motorcycles the League had used to arrive at the warehouse. She quickly took out a pin-like device, standard equipment for all League members to allow them to steal whatever vehicles they needed when in a pinch, and fit it into the keyhole. The motorcycle roared to life, and she threw herself over it, giving it a few revs before speeding over to the nearest road and to Gotham.


It took Laurel several minutes to calm down and think up of a plan. As much as she wanted to just leave this entire mess behind her and find some hole to hide in, she couldn't it. Regardless of how small her part in all this had been, she was one of those responsible for what had just happened, and what was going to happen to Gotham. She needed to make amends for that, no matter what might become of her when it was all over.

Not to mention, she couldn't abandon Shado and leave her like this. Shado was her best friend, her partner, her sister in everything but blood. In some ways, she was all Laurel had left. All of her other loved ones were in Starling and thought she was dead. And as for everyone else — she hadn't been able to save them. Robert, Yao Fei… Slade, she might as well have damned herself. Only Shado was left, and if Laurel couldn't save her…

Don't think like that, Laurel, she silently berated herself. She would save Shado. Any other outcome was not an option.

But she couldn't do it on her own. She didn't have the resources needed to figure out how to cure the infected, nor the manpower to stave off the inevitable invasion. Right here and now, she was all on her own.

However, thanks to the League, she did know someone who did. The only question was whether or not she could get him to trust her long enough to help her. Laurel thought it over for a moment, and then reached over to the GPS unit on the left handlebar and turned it on. She scrolled through the list of locations, and felt a moment of relief when she saw the one she wanted. With that finally thought, she clicked on the one named 'Wayne Manor' and began angling herself to make a turn on the next street.


The Bat-Cave

"It is way too quiet tonight."

"And of course, both of you consider a quiet night of crime a bad thing," Alfred Pennyworth said with an insufferable sigh as he rolled in the latest tray of sandwiches and coffee.

Up at the Bat-Computer, standing next to a pensive and scowling Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson gave his surrogate grandfather a half-hearted shrug. "Sorry Alfie, but there's a never quiet night in Gotham. Usually that's just a prelude to something even worse happening."

"Especially with the League in town," Bruce grunted, typing away at the computer. "We still haven't determined where they're currently holed up, nor what their plans are. If only we had managed to secure those two League members Barbara had managed to capture the other night; we could've planned a counterattack by now."

"Don't remind me," came Oracle's computerized voice from another nearby screen. Emblazoned on it was her symbol, the sharp face of a bald woman colored neon green. "I can't believe how long it took me to realize those two were League. Ra's really went all out this time with their backgrounds."

Bruce grunted again. "That just shows how badly he wants his current plan to succeed. Talia told me the last time we spoke he only had a few decades left before the Lazarus Pit stopped working entirely and he died, which means he's getting desperate to make me his heir. I shudder to think what his pl—"

Whatever else he was about to say was cut off by the sound of the Bat-Cave's alarms firing off all that once. Bruce immediately shot out of his chair as he put back on his cowl, while Dick put his mask back on and drew out his escrima sticks. Even Alfred drew out a pistol which had been holstered under the tray cart.

The cause of the commotion soon revealed themselves to be an unauthorized vehicle riding down the ramp typically reserved for the Batmobile and the Wingcycle. A motorcycle, to be exact, currently being ridden by a member of the League. Everyone present tensed as they prepared themselves for battle, only for confusion to filter through when they realized there was only one motorcycle and one member of the League. Was there an army already invading the Manor? Was Ra's preparing for an ambush? Or was he sending a message?

"Wait!" A feminine voice called out, panicked and desperate. The assassin quickly parked the motorcycle and quickly removed her hood and mask to reveal herself as one of the assassins that had been watching Barbara, the one who had called herself 'Myra'. "I'm not here to fight!"

"Then what are you here for?" Bruce asked, lowering his stance but not his guard. Behind him, Dick and Alfred did the same. "Does Ra's have a message for me?"

'Myra' shook her head, and it was only then that Bruce saw the tear tracks on her face. She had been crying recently. Remembering how League members literally had the emotions beaten out of them during training, a sinking feeling appeared in his gut. "My… my name is Taer Al-Aswad," she said, swallowing. "And I need your help."


Laurel didn't bother protesting when they asked to restrain her before hearing her out. The Batman, or rather Bruce Wayne, was a paranoid man who barely trusted anyone, even those within his inner circle. There was no way she could expect him to hear her out immediately, especially when she had been found spying on one of his proteges mere days ago.

"Alright," Dick said once she was fully bound. "Start talking. What do you need our help for?"

"The League," Laurel said, because she didn't know where else to start. "They—we've been compromised, at least those present in Gotham right now. I'm the only one that's left."

Bruce frowned. "What do you mean?"

She looked down. "The master is desperate for you to become his heir, as you've probably realized. When we came here to Gotham, he decided to partner up with one of your Rogues, using the plot they currently had in the works to essentially hold the city hostage and force you to accept his offer."

"Who?"

"…The Joker."

Laurel wasn't really surprised at their reactions. Both Dick and Bruce's butler, Alfred, reeled back in horror. Even Bruce couldn't disguise the hiss at the name. She had a feeling the Joker had something of a reputation in this city, and this only proved it. "What is his plan? What is Ra's helping him with?" Bruce demanded.

"He's made this gas. He calls it Joker Gas. It…" She swallowed again, this time in horror, as the memories resurfaced. "…it turns someone into an insane copy of him when they're exposed to it. Their skin turns white, their lips red, and their hair takes on a dark green tint. They start laughing maniacally and attacking indiscriminately; from what I can tell, they only obey his or Harley Quinn's orders."

"What he wanted to do was Jokerize all of your other Rogues and unleash them on the city." That got another hiss, this time from Dick, as Bruce narrowed his eyes. "But apparently he doesn't have a good reputation with them—"

"He doesn't," Dick interjected, speaking flatly. "Everyone in this city hates the Joker."

She nodded. "Yeah, well, he knows that. Which is where the master came in. He wanted to use Ra's' reputation to call a meeting, get everyone gathered in one place, so he could Jokerize them all at once. The master agreed, and earlier tonight we finally went through with it."

"But something went wrong," Bruce guessed knowingly.

"The Joker betrayed us," Laurel admitted and it said a lot that neither of the vigilantes nor their butler looked very surprised to hear that. "He blindsided the master and managed to Jokerize him. Once that was done, several other members of the League revealed themselves to have already been Jokerized and began attacking those that hadn't been. I… I managed to escape before they could get to me, but I was the only one. I knew I needed to get help, which is why I came here."

Bruce crossed his arms, eyes narrowing us once more. "You want our help to save the League."

"Yes," Laurel breathed out, and now her desperation was coming out full force. "I'll do whatever you want, even go to jail after this is over and keep my mouth shut on everything I know about you. Just save the League, please."

They didn't say anything at first, just eying her speculatively. Laurel held her breath as she waited for their answer. While everything she knew about the Batman said he would accept her request, if only because he wasn't a man to leave someone to suffer or die, this was still the League. She had heard enough from the grapevine to know the kind of damage they had caused to Gotham over the years. It's entirely possible Bruce might very well leave them out to dry and finally be done with them, while figuring out some other way to save Gotham from the Jokerized villains.

"You're not here because you want to save the League," the vigilante finally said, causing her to stiffen. "You're doing out of this love, and nobody loves the League. Not even Ra's. So why are you really here?"

Laurel's mouth fell open slightly. She didn't know what to say.

"If you want us to trust you, trust that you are telling the truth, then you actually need to tell us the truth," he continued.

There was another moment of silence. Finally, Laurel's shoulders slumped. "My name, my real name is Laurel. Dinah Laurel Lance, to be exact. I was a pre-law student in the middle of my gap year before law school traveling to China for a humanitarian aid project when the yacht I was on was shipwrecked in the middle of the North China Sea. I eventually washed ashore on an island named Lian Yu, where I met and befriended a man named Gulong Yao Fei, a disgraced Chinese general."

"Lian Yu turned out to be the headquarters for a mercenary named Edward Fyers who was working on an operation to crash commercial airliners and destroy the Chinese economy. He planned to pin his actions on Yao Fei, so he kidnapped Yao Fei's daughter, Shado, to force him into compliance. Oracle would know her better as 'Peng Deilan', the other member of the League that had been spying on her alongside me."

"Fyers killed Yao Fei, but Shado and I, along with another friend of ours who is no longer with us, managed to stop Fyers and kill him. After that, we stayed on Lian Yu waiting for a way to get off the island. We finally found one in a passing freighter manned by pirates and owned by a mad scientist named Anthony Ivo, who was using it as a lab to experiment on people while searching for a drug called the Mirakuru—"

"The Mirakuru?"

Laurel blinked as everyone turned to stare at Bruce. "Yes. What about it?"

Bruce frowned. "That drug was one of the inspirations for Venom, the drug Bane uses to enhance his strength."

That got shocked looks from everyone except Laurel, who wondered who Bane was. "Anyway," she continued, recapturing their attention, "we managed to capture the freighter and kill Ivo. But… something happened, and there was a mutiny, and the freighter sunk. Shado and I managed to hold onto each other but we were washed out to sea. We probably would've drowned, had they not found us."

"The League," Dick quickly surmised. Laurel nodded.

"It was Nyssa, the Heir to the Demon, who saved us. She brought us to Nanda Parbat and had us nursed to health, but it came with a cost. We either agreed to swear our lives to the League, or we would die."

There was a silent finality to her words that seemed to quiet the entire cave. Laurel felt herself tremble as tears began to stream down her face again. "I don't care what happens to me in the end," she admitted. "I've done a lot of horrible things to survive. I've killed so many people, even before I joined the League. All of them might've been evil, they might've deserved it, but…"

The assassin closed her eyes for a brief moment, and sighed, steadying herself. "I probably deserved to be punished for all that. And if that's the price I pay in order to get your help, I'll pay it gladly. Please, just save her."

"You mean Shado, don't you?" Dick said with a note of sympathy in his voice.

Biting her lip, Laurel nodded, red-eyed. "She's my best friend, my sister. Everyone else I've ever loved either thinks I'm dead or is dead themselves. I don't have anyone else left. So I'll do whatever it takes to save her, even if it means my own life in the end."

It was the truth. The honest-to-God truth. And if they didn't believe her, then Laurel didn't know what else she had left to offer them.


"Is she telling the truth, Oracle?"

They had taken Taer Al-Aswad — or Laurel, as she claimed to be — aside, far away from the Bat-Computer while they consulted Barbara. Not a single man present could say they hadn't been affected by the young woman's words, not even Bruce. She really did seem sincere and genuine, even if she wasn't quite telling them everything about what happened during her time before she joined the League. Clearly, the memories were painful for her.

But still. They were Bats. And Bats always verified first.

"She is," Oracle admitted reluctantly. It was obvious she was having conflicting feelings about the young woman who had been spying on her, now that she knew that woman's story. "Everyone, meet Dinah Laurel Lance: the world's unluckiest castaway."

The Bat-Computer came to life with numerous articles and pictures, showing what was essentially a complete overhaul of Laurel's life. The first thing that caught Bruce's attention was the article about the shipwreck. Namely, whose ship it had been she was sailing on. "She was sailing on the Queen's Gambit with Robert Queen?"

"Yes. Apparently, she's also the long-time girlfriend of Robert's son, Oliver. They met at Berlanti Preparatory in elementary and basically grew up together. Robert offered to let her sail with him to China so she could save on airfare."

"Shit. That really is bad luck," Dick said with a low whistle. "What about everyone else she mentioned?"

As an answer, the screen scrambled again before showing new pictures and articles. "She's telling the truth about them as well. I found redacted files about Gulong Yao Fei, along with his two twin daughters, Gulong Shado and Gulong Mei. They're both dead ringers for 'Peng Deilan', and I've already checked in on Mei — she's currently attending medical school in China. So that means 'Deilan' has to be Shado."

Bruce nodded slowly. "What about the others? Edward Fyers and Anthony Ivo?"

"I was able to confirm the existence of a mercenary named Edward Fyers, who went off the grid about five years ago after accepting a classified contract. Sightings indicate he was in or near Southeast Asia, for what it's worth. And Anthony Ivo was easy enough to find, along with why he was searching for the Mirakuru and conducting all those experiments — his wife just died. Terminal cancer."

"So in short, she's telling the truth," the former Robin surmised.

"This time," Oracle added with bite. Clearly, whatever sympathy she might have Laurel wasn't enough to wipe out all of her grudge against her.

Alfred turned to his long-time charge and surrogate son. "What now then, Master Bruce?"

The Batman narrowed his eyes.


When Bruce returned, it was the full cowl of Batman on. Laurel stiffened as the shadow appeared in her line of sight, feeling intimidated. Despite all that she had gone through these past several years, there was something about that cowl that just struck a chord in her. The same chord that Batman seemed to strike in everyone in this city, to be honest.

"You can help," he said, and Laurel let out a sob of relief as he went behind her and began to untie her bonds. As she moved to get up, however, she felt something slipped under the lapels of her armor.

"What was that?" she asked, as she tried to feel for it. It felt like some kind of small disk.

Bruce grunted. "Tracker. Just to be safe. And let me be clear: you can help, but you need to obey my every order. No going lone wolf."

That was fine. Laurel didn't really know much about this city beyond what was required of her to spy on Barbara, and she didn't even know where to begin when it came to stopping the Joker and saving Shado.

"Okay. What now?" she asked instead.

The Batman simply turned on his heel and began walking back towards the Bat-Computer. Laurel, blinking, began to follow him.

"Now, we stop the Joker."

Notes:

And so, Laurel uses the Canary Cry again to save herself from the Joker and the Jokerized League, and heads to Batman and co. for help. Right now, she's at her absolute lowest point — all she really cares about now is saving Shado, and she doesn't care about whose help she needs to make it happen, nor what becomes of her in the end. This will have consequences once this is all over, but you'll have to wait and see.

Next Chapter: The counterattack begins.

Chapter 20: The Counterattack

Summary:

Laurel joins forces with the Bat-Family in order to save Shado and stop the Joker's plan.

Notes:

Sorry for the late upload. Had a doctor's appointment yesterday.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"The Joker Gas that Joker is using is likely a variation of Joker Venom," Bruce started with, being careful to be more explanative than usual for Laurel's benefit. "It's a type of toxin that serves as his signature weapon for his schemes."

Laurel swallowed as pictures of many of the Joker's victims were pulled up. They all had unnaturally wide grins, yellowed teeth, pale skin and bulging eyes, not unlike the Joker himself. Nor unlike the people he had just Jokerized for his latest plot. "What does it do?"

"There's two versions: a lethal and non-lethal version. The lethal version causes the victim to suffer uncontrollable spasms laughter, leaving them unable to breathe and eventually leading to a painful death. The non-lethal version has similar effects, though the laughter eventually stops and the victim is just left with an unusually large grin that remains permanently on their face. There is a cure, but prolonged exposure to the non-lethal variant can cause permanent brain damage."

She nodded. "I take you have the formula for the antidote, then?"

"Yes. Along with several vats full of antidote stored across various Wayne Enterprises locations. However, we do not know if the antidote will work with Joker Gas due to the modifications the Joker made to the formula. We'll need to make another antidote just to make sure."

"And to do that, you need a sample of the gas," Laurel surmised easily. "I think I know where we can get some. The estate the League has been staying in during our time here in Gotham — the Joker was invited to stay with us after he made his partnership with the master official. It was so we could provide him the resources he needed to make the gas and supervise its synthesis. There may be leftover samples still there at the lab he used."

The three men exchanged looks. "It's the only lead we have," Dick noted, a grim expression on his face.

His mentor stared at him, before slowly nodding in agreement. "Nightwing, you will go with… Aswad?" he gave a brief look to Laurel, who shrugged. "Right. We'll just call you Aswad for now. Anyway, you two will go to the estate and secure all the samples of Joker Gas you can find. I will call Lucius to inform him of the situation so he can prepare the labs and synthesize the antidote, before hooking up with Gordon to coordinate a response to the attack."

Dick took a quick glance at Laurel before turning back to his mentor. "Sounds like a plan, but we need something to differentiate her from the other assassins." He quickly headed to the clothing racks and took something out — a domino mask.

After observing it a little to make sure it was the right size, he went to Laurel and handed it to her. Laurel blinked as she felt the mask in her hands, her fingers a little sticky from the adhesive on the sides. Tentatively, she lifted it up and put it on, blinking at how easy it was to see through the mesh coverings. A minute later, once she was used to it more, she pulled off her mask and straightened it out before using it to tie up her hair in a familiar set of motions.

"Looks good," Dick said, giving her two thumbs up.

"Good. Then if that's it, then we need to go now. You can follow me on your motorcycle — I'll lead the way."


She was breaking the most sacred of the League's laws by bringing the Batman's protege with her to one of their safehouses, but at this point, Laurel didn't care. Anyone that had any right to raise an objection was either in Nanda Parbat, completely unaware of what was happening in Gotham, or currently one of the Joker's brainwashed lackeys. If it took revealing a few of the League's secrets to save her best friend, then that's what Laurel would do.

The entire estate was dead silent when they arrived there, not a hint of life inside. Unlike previous days, Ra's had opted to commandeer of all the League's forces to the warehouse, not bothering to leave behind a single soul to guard the mansion. He had probably believed that at this point, it wouldn't matter if Bruce had somehow managed to infiltrate his current headquarters, now that his plan was already in motion. A mistake, but one that worked in their favor — they didn't need to worry about having to sneaking their way in.

"And I thought the League couldn't get creepier," Dick— Nightwing — commented beside her as they walked inside. "How did you stand sleeping in a place like this?"

"It's a bit livelier during the daytime," Laurel replied, guiding him towards where the staircase to the basement was supposed to be. "When people are actually here."

"Right," Dick said slowly, clearly not believing her words.

They walked down the stairs to the basement level. There were a line of doors there, which would've made it confusing had the Joker not been, well, the Joker. One of the first things he'd done was spray paint his logo on the door to his lab. They located it easily, and Dick tensed as Laurel took out her lockpick device to wrench the lab open.

click! later, there was an opening made. Laurel carefully and slowly opened the door to the lab, waiting a few tense minutes. When nothing came out, Dick took out a flashlight and quickly located the lightswitch, flicking it on. The entire room came to life, revealing a surprisingly un-ghastly scene.

The lab equipment was professionally set up, not unlike it would be in the Bat-Cave. There were vials of Joker Gas placed on racks, neatly labeled. If they both didn't know better, one would even call it a completely normal laboratory and not the den of an insane madman.

"I guess even the Joker has to comply with proper lab safety guidelines," the former Robin quipped as he and his companion looked around.

Laurel spotted the Joker Gas quickly, in one of the cabinets. "Is this what you need?" she asked, pointing up at the green vials.

Dick went to her and looked at the labels, before nodding. "Looks like it. Good thing I'm already wearing gloves," he said as he opened the cabinet up and took one of the vials with one hand. With the other, he flicked open a pouch on his utility belt took out some kind of device. He popped open one of the vials and plugged the opening into the device, watching as the liquid glowed and then filtered inside.

"There. A preliminary analysis has just been sent to the Wayne Enterprise servers, and to Lucius Fox. We'll need to give him more of this to have a clearer picture of what the Joker made, but that should be enough to let him start on the antidote."

"Good thing I brought the satchel," Laurel said, lifting a bag that had been hanging with her quiver during the ride. It had been strapped on to the motorcycle she had been using for most of the night.

They quickly and carefully put in the racks of vials into several plastic bags they found in the lab, before placing them in the satchel. Once they had enough they could reasonably carry, they closed up the cabinet and left the lab, Dick being careful to lock the door behind them. Then, they headed upstairs, intent on making a beeline for their motorcycles.

"I'll take the lead this time—" Dick started, only to feel a small change in the air.

"LOOK OUT!" Laurel shouted as she drew out her sword.

Thanks to her warning, the former sidekick managed to duck in time and dodge a knife to the skull. His companion moved forward to deflect the rest before engaging the Jokerized assassin that had tried to attack them. No doubt a guard left behind by the Joker to attack anyone looking to snoop around and find some way to counter his newest little toy.

Dick ran back in to help her, only to find himself having to fend off another Jokerized assassin. More and more Jokerized people appeared and added to the throng, and before either of them knew it, they were back-to-back trying to fight off what seemed to be an entire army. "Shit," the young vigilante swore.

"Do you have any way out of this?" the only sane assassin present asked, grunting as she kicked away a particularly persistent member of the group.

"Nothing with how little room we're getting to breathe. Maybe I can drop a smoke bomb—"

"No. Too many." She paused. "I might have something, but it's a little loud. When I tell you too, you need to cover your ears."

It was a strange request, she knew. But Dick didn't protest. At her signal, he sheathed his sticks and covered his ears. Laurel pushed him behind her, and then inhaled a deep breath, trying to reach for that power that had overwhelmed earlier tonight. Feeling a deep well inside her, she took a firm stance, breathing in one more time, and then screamed.

The windows shattered immediately, as did the glass chandelier. Pure, sonic energy emitted from her mouth in waves, blowing back all their attackers and sending them crashing into the wall and various pieces of furniture. Once they were all completely out, Laurel ceased her screaming, the soundwaves ending not long after. It was then the exhaustion hit, and she bent over, grabbing at her knees.

"So," Dick said, and she looked to her right in time to see him dropping his hands from his ears and crossing his arms. "You might have forgotten to mention something."


"The first time I used it was on the Amazo," she told him as she was riding behind him on the Wingcycle. After her little episode at the mansion, Laurel had been too exhausted to use her own. "Shado and I were fighting someone there, and he had managed to grab her and begin choking her. I had tried to free her but he managed to push me away, and the ship was already taking on water. When she started to turn blue, I just… reacted. I shouted at him to let her go, this energy came out of my mouth and hit them both. He let her go. You pretty much know everything after that."

"You guys never talked about it?" the driver asked, swerving past one of the cars on the road.

Behind him, Laurel shook her head. "We didn't. For one thing, we weren't sure what happened, including whether or not it happened at all. Everything that happened that day was traumatic, and it all happened so fast — we thought it might've been a hallucination brought about when we almost drowned. Something that was easier to believe when we wanted to so badly forget everything that occurred on that night."

"The other reason is because… well, is because we didn't know if I could use it again. If we acknowledged what happened, then that made it real, and if it was real, then the League would eventually find out."

Dick hummed in understanding. "You were scared that, if they found out, they would turn you into a weapon. Something worse than what they already made you," he concluded.

The assassin winced. "Yeah," she admitted quietly, before speaking up again. "I ended up using it again when the Joker started Jokerizing the League at the warehouse. Shado and I tried to escape through one of the windows but there were simply too many. She ended up sacrificing herself to save me, and when I saw her Jokerized, something in me snapped and I used the scream again. It saved me from them, but I wasn't able to control it completely. I got thrown back by the force and through the window we were trying to escape through, and I probably would've died from the fall if I hadn't instinctively used it again to slow my descent."

It really had been nothing but a combination of sheer dumb luck and whatever the hell that gave her this power that allowed her to escape the fate of her fellow assassins. Laurel wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it made her wonder if someone out there was watching out for her. Or maybe not — after all, if there had been someone watching out for her, then she would've never gotten on the Gambit and been in the middle of this mess in the first place.

"You do realize I'll need to tell Batman about this," Dick warned her as they made another turn, now back in the city proper. "This isn't something we can keep a secret from him, especially not in the current situation we're in right now."

"That's fine. We're allies for this and if my sonic scream or whatever can help, then I'll use it." She shrugged. "Besides, from what I've heard about Batman, he would've found out about it eventually anyway."

"Here, here," Dick concurred.


The headquarters to Wayne Enterprises was a tall, imposing tower that soared above the Gotham skyline, emblazoned with the WE logo right in the middle, stereotypically named 'Wayne Tower'. They didn't go through the front door or even the attached garage, but rather used a hidden opening built into the side of the building. Dick drove all the way down the ramp before suddenly coming to a stop, whereupon a giant gate shut behind them. Before Laurel could ask what was going on, the walls suddenly came to life with several lights, and then they were ascending upwards in an insanely fast elevator.

When the lift finally came to a stop, the front wall opened to reveal the entrance to some kind of laboratory, this one much more cleaner and more cutting edge than the one the Joker used at the mansion. There were several beakers and flasks and other lab equipment bubbling away with different colored concoctions. And in the middle of it all was a graying, middle-aged black man, frantically writing down equations in some kind of notebook.

He turned around when he heard the wall behind him open and gave a nod of acknowledgement. "Dick. And who's your friend?"

"Just call her Aswad," Dick told him as they walked into the lab. "And Aswad, this is—"

"—Lucius Fox. CEO of Wayne Enterprises and the main technological and scientific genius behind Batman," Laurel finished, going up to shake the man's hand. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

Lucius returned the greeting, before turning to the other arrival. "Do you have it?"

"We do," Dick answered, gesturing towards Laurel. The woman took out the satchel and opened it, taking out the plastic bags filled with the vials. Some had been broken, no doubt thanks to the fight earlier, but most of them were intact.

"I see you had some trouble on the way," Lucius noted dryly, arching an eyebrow as he secured the vials.

"Some," the younger man agreed. "Where's B?"

"At the docks."

Laurel jumped at the sound of the computerized voice, watching in surprise as the computer screens were suddenly hijacked by Oracle's signature insignia. "He's already hooked up with my dad and the GCPD. Early sightings indicate the Joker intends to start his invasion from the Gotham River, so everyone is moving to intercept him before he can enter the city proper. I suggest you two join up with him as soon as possible."

"One of us will need to stay behind in order to transport the antidote when it's time, though," Dick noted. He shot Laurel an uncertain look.

Reading his thoughts, Laurel let out a sigh. "I'll go to the docks," she decided. "I don't know Gotham as nearly as well as you do so if I try to transport the antidote when it's time, then chances are it won't be as fast as you could do it."

Not to mention, she needed to see Shado and make sure she was still alive. Laurel wasn't an idiot — with hundreds of brainwashed criminals, many of whom were hardened killers, bearing down at the city, there was no way law enforcement was going to play this with kid gloves. They were going for the kill, and Shado was going to be in the line of fire. Laurel had to make sure she survived long enough to receive the cure, otherwise everything she had done so far would've been for nothing.

"Take the Wingcycle, then," Dick told her, tossing her the keys. "We've already got the Bat-Plane here — I'll use that to go to the docks once the antidote is ready."

Laurel stared at the keys for a moment before looking up and giving him a nod. With that, she turned on her heel and headed to the Wingcycle. There was no more time to waste.


It took her a bit to get used to the Wingcycle and its GPS unit, but before Laurel knew it she was cruising down Gotham's streets and towards the direction of the docks. Unlike earlier when they had been entering the city, there had been no traffic at all to impede her drive. It was like the entire city had retreated to their homes and shut their doors. Maybe they had — it's likely the GCPD would have spread the word by now after getting Batman's warning about the attack.

Either way, Laurel made it to the docks in record time. Just in time to see that the battle had already begun. Parts of the Gotham River had already been frozen over, with many of the Jokerized criminals already crossing the bay and engaging the police. She didn't see Shado, but she did spot Batman, and drew her sword as she parked the Wingcycle and went to join him.

The moment she got there, however, she nearly got shot by the man standing next to him. Her attacker was wearing police armor, and it took her a moment to recognize him as Commissioner Jim Gordon — Barbara's father. "Wait, wait!" she said, raising her hands. "I'm on your side."

"She's telling the truth, Jim," Batman quickly interceded before the man could protest. "She's the one who told us about the attack."

Gordon frowned. "Why would a member of the League betray Ra's?"

Laurel blinked in surprise. He knew about the League? But then she realized he was silently demanding an answer from her, and gave him one before he decided to shoot at her again. "It's hard to betray a man who is currently brainwashed and under the Joker's thumb," she replied.

The commissioner stared at her for a moment, before realization dawned in his eyes. "I take it your master tried to partner up with the Joker?"

"And got bitten in the process," Laurel confirmed. "The Joker managed to brainwash almost all of the League currently in Gotham, including my only friend. I'm the only one who managed to escape."

"She came to us for help to save her friend, and by extension, the League," Batman elaborated.

That didn't seem to please Gordon. "I won't tell my men not to defend themselves because of some bargain you made with her."

"And neither of us would ask you to," Laurel retorted before Bruce could. "I know what we've done to this city. We don't deserve your mercy, especially not when your lives and the lives of innocents are on the line. That's why I'm here — I'm going to find her before she can hurt anyone and restrain her until Nightwing arrives with the cure."

Almost immediately, the mood lifted. "So a cure is in the works?" Batman asked, taking charge of the situation. The League, and everything associated with it, had been quickly forgotten.

"Yes. We managed to find plenty of samples at the mansion and have already started synthesizing the cure." She paused, and then added, rather sheepishly, "We'll also have to visit there right after this. There are a bunch of Jokerized assassins currently prowling the estate. We didn't have time to restrain them, so they should still be there." If they hadn't left the grounds already, something that was a very distinct possibility.

It was something Batman was aware of as well, judging by the heavy frown on his face. But before they could discuss the situation any further, the second wave hit. Laurel prepared herself to enter the fray, but before she could, Batman held out something to her — a quarterstaff, made of some sort of lightweight steel.

"No killing," he grunted. After a moment, Laurel sheathed her sword and accepted the new weapon. It would take some adjustment, but she could manage.

That was the last exchange they had before a massive vine suddenly sprout out from the sea and separated them. Laurel jumped away in time to avoid getting caught, only to find herself in the midst of a crowd of enemies. She only managed to catch a glimpse of Batman and Gordon on the other side of the vine, fighting, before she found herself beset by one of her Jokerized comrades and forced to fight for her life.


About an hour of fighting later, Laurel had never felt more exhausted in her entire life.

The horde was seemingly endless, and unfortunately it was made of soldiers with some of the strangest weapons and abilities she had ever seen. There was one man who attacked her with condiments, literal condiments, as weapons. He had been easy enough to knock out, but then another woman tried to burn her to a crisp using a flamethrower. She had been much more difficult.

Then there was the orca woman and the large man with like a billion tubes sticking out of him that she was pretty sure was on steroids. It was only thanks to a timely knife to the armpit that Laurel had managed to avoid getting crushed to death by the former. Mr. Steroids, meanwhile, was taken out by Batman via cutting his tubes and using the resulting liquid to eletrocute him. Laurel had a feeling that wasn't the first time he had to do such a thing.

In between the plant woman and the ice guy wreaking havoc everywhere, not to mention the scores of brainwashed assassins and other minor criminals, the battle was chaotic and violent. A million times worse than the Amazo, even with Slade thrown into the calculations. After all, Slade might've been turned into a twisted version of Captain America, but he couldn't create a giant plant out of the ground and make it try to eat people.

But Laurel found she didn't really mind all that much. In fact, if it weren't for the underlying seriousness of the situation and the fact that she still hadn't located Shado, she might even say she was having fun. There was something about all this that made her feel… right, for lack of a better word. It was like this was something she was meant to do all along.

Something to ponder about later. Right now, the priority was locating her best friend. The antidote would finish synthesizing soon, and she needed to be there when the cure was used on Shado, so that way her friend wouldn't be at risk of being arrested by the GCPD or whatever when things calmed down.

A part of Laurel wondered, after several minutes of fruitless searching, if her best friend had already been taken down. But then she spotted one of the police officers going down after being shot in the shoulder by an arrow that seemingly came out of nowhere, and knew she was wrong. There were plenty of decent to outright exceptional archers in the League — but nobody was better than her best friend.

She followed the direction from where the arrow came from and spotted it — a crow's nest, atop one of the ships the Joker had commandeered for his invasion. The perfect place for a sniper, or an archer, to take shelter while still playing a part in the battle. Without a second thought, Laurel sprinted towards the direction of the nest, convinced that this was where her best friend was.

Her journey wasn't easy. She had and duck and dodge so many attacks, occasionally even having to stop to save one officer or another from a member of the army. But eventually, Laurel made it to the ship. She allowed herself a brief moment of celebration right before having to dive away to prevent her head getting smashed open by a mallet.

Laurel turned on heel and fell into a stance as she stared down her opponent. Harley Quinn. Wonderful.

The insane woman, for her part, laughed. "Well, hello there. You're the little birdie that managed to escape, aren't you? The one who warned Batman about our plans?" Despite the grin on her face, there was something dark and foreboding in her expression. "Mr. J's been meaning to have a talk with you, ya know."

She swung her quarterstaff at the other woman in retaliation, meeting the mallet head on with an audible clang!. "Forgive me if I decline the invitation!" Laurel shouted back, and just like that, it was on.

For a psycho in a sexy, punk rock mime getup, Harley was good. She didn't have that much formal training as a martial artist, but she made up for it with immense strength and a high-level acrobatics that even a trained member of the League like Laurel had difficulty keeping up with. No wonder she had managed to last so long in a town like Gotham.

But Laurel was nothing but determined, especially now that her friend was only one ladder climb away. She dodged every single one of Harley's mallet blows, trying to strike whenever there was an opening. One particularly harsh blow she had to deflect, and it left Laurel stumbling backwards, only just barely managed to catch herself with the ship's railing. The accumulation of all the fighting was finally getting to her, while Harley had been lounging around back here, as fresh as a daisy. If she didn't figure out something soon, then she'd find herself in the Joker's clutches soon enough, and if there's anything this entire situation taught her, that was the last place she wanted to be.

"What's wrong baby pop? Can't keep up?" Harley asked her mockingly. "Not gonna attack me with that freaky power of yours?"

Oh. Right.

"Thanks for reminding me." And with that, Laurel let out a scream, doing her best to make sure it was not quite as powerful as the previous ones. Batman said no killing, after all.

Harley barely had time to blink in surprise before she was struck by the waves of sonic energy and sent crashing into the ship's railing. Before she could recover, Laurel sprinted over to her and finished her off with a vicious uppercut to the face. The supervillain stumbled away on jelly legs after the blow hit, before collapsing onto her back, mostly unconscious.

Laurel hardly paid her any mind, instead heading back towards the ladder to the crow's nest. She climbed up it, punching through the wooden door trying to block her off from inside. Now with an opening, she hauled herself up inside, landing on the wooden flooring with a sigh of relief. She looked up, and saw her. She would recognize her best friend's form anywhere, after all.

"Shado?"

Shado turned around, and Laurel flinched. The visage of her friend, now a completely distorted mirror of the Joker, was something she would never get used to, and hopefully would never have to. Even now, she knew that it would be haunting her nightmares for a long time, provided she somehow managed to get out of this alive.

Then Shado drew her sword and tried to cut her down, and Laurel once again found herself having to fight for her life. Except this time, she couldn't really find it in herself to fight back. "Shado, stop!"

But Shado didn't stop. She just laughed with that insane grin of hers as she moved jerkily around, swinging at Laurel with wild abandon. The skill was still there, but the style had changed entirely, with random and abrupt movements. A consequence of the transformation her best friend had gone under, no doubt.

It didn't matter. Laurel needed to stop her. Shado would never forgive herself if she harmed Laurel like this, regardless of the fact that it wouldn't be her fault. So Laurel grit her teeth and ducked under the next swing and delivered a palm strike to Shado's abdomen, forcing her to bend over. She then used the opening to completely disarm her friend, forcing her to let go of her sword and tossing it over the side of the nest so Shado couldn't use it anymore.

But then Shado recovered and tried to kick out her knee. Laurel endured the blow with a wince and before she knew it they were exchanging several strikes. Her skills in hand-to-hand combat had grown in leaps and bounds over the years, especially after they joined the League, to the point that she could safely call herself her friend's equal. But that was when Shado was normal. Much like her swordsmanship, Shado was using a completely different style of hand-to-hand combat compared to her usual kind.

There was just no rhyme or reason to it. A lot of jumping and acrobatics, like Harley Quinn, in addition to the jerky movements from earlier. There was a distinctive flair to it that still distinctively belonged to Shado, but Laurel couldn't hold onto it enough long enough to properly counter, especially after all the fighting she had already gone through the past hour or so.

Which left one option.

"Forgive me, Shado," Laurel said, before opening her mouth and screaming.

She tried to make sure she used even less force then she used against Harley Quinn. The last thing she wanted was to send Shado flying over the railing of the crow's nest. But at the same time, she needed enough to disorient her friend and reclaim the advantage. It was the only way she was going to win.

Thankfully, it seemed Laurel had managed to find the right balance. Shado was only sent stumbling back, not flying, and she had enough wherewithal to cover her ears. Laurel immediately stopped screaming once she saw that, and darted over to deliver a single chop to the back of her friend's neck, dropping the other woman with a groan.

With that battle one, Laurel collapsed against the railing of the nest and looked about the battlefield. Things were beginning to wind down, many of the villains had been taken out, along with several of the officers. She couldn't see Batman or Gordon up where she was, she was too high for that, but something told her they were alright.

And then it appeared. A shadow in the sky, which quickly revealed itself to be a plane, in the vague shape of a bat. The bottom hatch opened, and some kind of aerosol was released from what looked like a massive smoke generator. Laurel watched as the strange gas made its way to the battlefield, before turning around to watch as it blanketed the crow's nest.

Relief turned into joy as she watched Shado's face slowly lose its grin. Her skin began to regain color, her lips were no longer red, and her hair was starting to lose the green tint. Finally, a soft moan of pain escaped her friend's mouth as she slowly sat up, rubbing the back of her head.

"What hit me…?" Shado asked, blinking her eyes repeatedly as she tried to regain her bearings. Her whole entire body stiffened when she saw Laurel. "Laurel!"

Laurel felt like crying. "Thank God, thank God!" she shouted in delight as she went to her friend and threw her arms around her. All her hard work, it had finally paid off. Her best friend was okay.

Shado briefly returned the embrace before pulling away to get a better look at her friend's condition. "You're injured," she noted, frowning. "And why are you wearing a domino mask?"

"It's a long story," Laurel replied, pulling Shado into another hug. "I'm just glad you're alright now."

Shado was fine, and that was all that mattered. Everything else could wait.

Notes:

Well, I hoped that was fun. The climax of Year 3 is finally finished. Next chapter, we get a look at the aftermath, and then Year 3 will be done and we can move on to Year 4.

Next Chapter: Laurel reaches a crossroads.

Chapter 21: Sisters

Summary:

Laurel has saved Shado. Unfortunately, that doesn't come without consequences.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"You really don't remember?"

Shado opened her mouth to answer, but then stopped. Laurel watched as a myriad of emotions flashed across her face, eventually culminating in recognition. "It's coming back to me in bits and pieces," she finally said. "I remember going to the warehouse and the speech. The Joker attacking the master. The League slowly being Jokerized… and then there was the two of us. We tried to escape, and we made it to the window, but there were too many. And then I…"

"…sacrificed yourself to save me," Laurel finished, a note of sadness in her voice.

"I did," Shado concurred, swallowing. "Everything after that is a blank. Laurel, did I…?"

The younger woman didn't say anything in response, which was all that really needed to be said. Shado gave a gasp of horror as tears began to gather in her eyes. Laurel quickly pulled her into a hug before she could break down. "It wasn't your fault you were brainwashed. You had absolutely no control over your actions."

"But still, all of those people…" The archer hiccuped. She had killed before, even in cold blood, but only ever evil men. Never innocents. That was the one thing they had both taken comfort in. Now only one of them could.

Laurel pulled away briefly to cup Shado's face in a comforting manner. "It was not your fault. None. The only person to blame is the Joker, for doing this to you. No one else."

Her friend still didn't look convinced, because guilt was a powerful thing like that, but she nonetheless nodded. Satisfied, Laurel pulled her into another hug, rubbing the back of her head in a soothing manner. Shado had always been there for her, supporting her in moments like this. Now it was her turn.

They stayed like that for quite a bit. As Shado's sobs finally began to subside, however, they found someone else making their presence known. "Am I interrupting something?"

Laurel and Shado blinked as they both looked up to the side to see the Bat-Plane flying right next to the crow's nest. The hatch opened to reveal Nightwing in the cockpit, giving them a wave. "You want to come with me? I doubt either of you want to see Ra's right now."

The two best friends exchanged looks. "I think we'll take you up on that offer," Laurel decided for both of them after that brief, silent conversation.

"Alright then. Hop in."


Within minutes, they found themselves away from the docks and its frozen battlefield and lowering into the hidden landing pad in the Bat-Cave, beneath Wayne Manor. They were met there by Alfred and an entire cart worth of medical supplies, all of which was very much welcome. Laurel, the only one who needed any serious medical attention, was brought to the infirmary where the butler started treating her, while Dick took Shado to the Bat-Computer so he could run a blood test on her. "We want to make sure the cure is permanent," had been his explanation.

"Why does Batman trust us in his space?" Shado had asked after the blood test was finished. She had her arms crossed and was giving Laurel a rather expectant look.

Laurel smiled nervously. "I may have given him our real names and a high-level overview of our backstories," she sheepishly admitted.

Her friend stared at her for a long moment, looking mightily unimpressed, before sighing outwardly. "Under normal circumstances, I would be mad about that," she said, before moving forward and taking a roll bandages to wrap Laurel's other arm. "But, considering he just helped save me from being an insane, endlessly laughing lunatic, I'll let it slide."

With that, Shado began her own treatment of Laurel's injuries. While there wasn't anything major, the younger assassin had accumulated a number of bruises and cuts, in addition to being exhausted and sore. If she lived past whatever Ra's had in store for her when he finally got to her, then she was probably due to be laid up for at least two weeks if not more. Wonderful.

Just as Shado had finished bandaging a particularly nasty contusion on her leg, the Bat-Computer came to life, the screen morphing into Oracle's increasingly-familiar insignia. "Status update?"

"Lay it on us, O," Dick answered for all of them.

"You got it, Hunk Wonder. The GCPD has concluded their round up efforts. Unsurprisingly, the League escaped before they could nab a single member and are holed up God knows where. Maybe our two little strays can help with that."

"They're probably back at the mansion," Shado suggested, ignoring the small dig. Barbara had no reason to be friendly with them, after all. "That's the only place we can think of."

"I'll check it out, then," Oracle promised. "Well, anyway, the same cannot be said for the Rogues. Dad managed to bring all of them in. A few of the minor ones are in the wind, but either we or the GCPD will catch up to them soon enough." Her voice turned grim. "There are two major ones missing, however."

"Let me guess: The Joker and Harley Quinn."

"Unfortunately, yes."

The mood of the entire Bat-Cave darkened. It only figured that the two most dangerous Rogues would be the ones to escape. "Any idea where they are?" Laurel asked.

"I'm checking their usual haunts now, but chances are they're laying low. The Joker might be insane, but he's not stupid. He knows he really pushed the envelope tonight and that everyone, from the GCPD to other rogues, will be looking for him, whether it's to arrest him or take their revenge on him for brainwashing them. I wouldn't be surprised if he's left the city for the time being."

Shado frowned. "Won't that be a problem? Aren't you afraid he'll go to some other city and start terrorizing people there?"

"No, we're not, Miss Gulong."

The two assassins blinked and turned to Alfred, who was folding some of the towels he had used to help clean Laurel's cuts. "The Joker's greatest obsession is Batman," he explained, years of exhaustion and anger pouring out of him. "He will always come back to this city, as long as Batman is here."

There was resignation there, too. It made Laurel wonder what, exactly, the Joker had done over the years to warrant such a reaction. She imagined it couldn't be anything pretty. A lunatic like that, obsessed with Batman, whose primary concern in life was fighting crime… well, whatever schemes the Joker cooked up couldn't have been fun. At least, not their definition of fun.

Before anything more could be said on the matter, a ping! sounded throughout the cave. Dick went to the Bat-Computer and pulled up some kind of inbox, frowning as he decrypted the message that had been sent to them. When he finally read it, his entire demeanor turned serious. "It's Ra's," he revealed to everyone. "He wants to meet us. All of us."

Meaning, that he knew Laurel and Shado were with the Bats and was demanding their presence at the meeting. This was not a request, but a summons, and no matter how much all of them wanted to refuse, that was not an option. In the wake of the recent attack on Gotham and the League's subversion, the master had to be absolutely livid.

"You don't have to go," Dick tried to tell her, but Laurel shook her head.

"It'll just put us in an awkward position, and I can't stay under your protection forever." She sighed again. "I'll go."


The address was for the estate, as Shado had correctly assumed. When they arrived there in one of the spare Batmobiles, Batman was already there waiting for them on his own. He nodded to all of them, and then led the way through the gates. A pair of sentinels were stationed at the doors, and they both wordlessly opened them the moment Bruce was at the doorstep.

Once inside, they saw all of the League's forces in Gotham were present — or at least, those that had managed to survive. Laurel noted, with mixed feelings, that around half of the assassins that had come to the city with Shado and her were not present. Some were probably doing guard duty or running errands, but not all of them. The rest had to be dead, almost certainly.

No wonder Ra's was angry. She could practically feel his rage as they slowly approached the dining room where he was standing at attention, hands clasped behind his back. His face was neutral, but his fury was palpable. It made Laurel dread her own punishment, which was sure to come soon.

The dining table had been removed, as had all the chairs. All the assassins, those that remained, were lined up against the walls, with the exceptions of Al-Owal and Nyssa, who were flanking the Demon's Head as always. And of course, Laurel and Shado weren't among them either, standing safely behind Bruce and hoping Ra's wouldn't notice them immediately. Thus far, it seemed he hadn't.

"Detective."

"Ra's."

The two men stared each other down, the tension between them thick and heavy. There was just too much history for it to be any other way. For a moment, she was afraid a fight would break out and she would find herself having to choose sides. After helping her save Shado, Laurel knew which side she would choose, but that could very well mean her own life, and now that her best friend was back, she was no longer keen on losing it.

Suddenly, Ra's spoke. "Qalnaswa. Join the rest of your fellow assassins," he ordered. Nobody missed how he only spoke to Shado and not Laurel.

Shado shot her a worried look. Laurel gave her a subtle, slight nod, and with that her friend complied with the order. She was in this situation because she wanted to save her friend; it would be a waste for Shado to go down with her now that Laurel had succeeded.

"Taer Al-Aswad, stay where you are," Ra's continued once Shado was lined up with the other assassins. "I shall deal with you momentarily. Now, for the main business at hand."

At that signal, two pairs of assassins marched in, each dragging a body between them. It took a moment for Laurel to recognize them under all the bruises and swelling, but she could never forget either of those faces. The Joker and Harley Quinn.

"These two were already responsible for much death and destruction prior to tonight," Ra's noted, speaking directly to Bruce. "And yet, you did not kill them even as the number of their crimes mounted. Now, with their most recent attack, they've added hundreds to their body count. Will you kill them now?"

It was a loaded question with multiple underlying meanings. But Laurel could see the heart of it. Will you finally accept your place as my heir? Because if Batman finally gave in and killed these two criminals for their actions tonight, it would mean acceding that Ra's' form of justice was as just as his own. And that acknowledgement was only a step away from joining the League himself.

So of course, Bruce refused. "No," he answered.

"Why? Do you believe they do not deserve to die?"

Surprisingly, Bruce shook his head. "No. They most certainly do. Their crimes are unforgivable. But I cannot kill them, because that is not my way. It will just be the first step to becoming you, and I absolutely refuse to be anything like you," he said with conviction.

Ra's narrowed his eyes. "Is your resolve truly that strong?"

"Yes. For as long as I live, I will never kill."

They locked eyes once more, another battle of wills. After a moment, Ra's seemed to back down. He closed his eyes briefly, sighing in disappointment, before raising his left hand. He then curled it into a fist.

Laurel couldn't hide her flinch, watching wide-eyed as both supervillains were beheaded. Next to her, Dick hissed, while Bruce scowled heavily. As soon as the heads dropped, Ra's began speaking once again. "It is clear now that for all your talent and skill, Detective, you will never be the heir you could be, if only because of your sheer stubbornness. So now it is time for the Demon to wash its hands of you. Consider this a final gift from us for helping save us — we have done the one thing you have never had the strength to do, and prevented these two from causing any further harm to your city."

With another sweep of the hand, the bodies were carried away. "Taer Al-Aswad," Ra's suddenly said, calling to her. "Come forward."

Laurel hesitantly stepped forward, going to one knee and bowing her head. Ra's stared down at her imperiously as he addressed her. "You have broken several of our by-laws. You have willing exposed yourself to the public, have brought an enemy into one of our sacred strongholds, and fought side-by-side with those same enemies against the League. By all rights, I should cut you down from where you stand right now."

She didn't dare say anything in defense of herself. Ra's was right. Even if she didn't regret it, even it had been necessary, Laurel had broken several tenants of their code. She had broken the vow she had made to the League in front of the waters of the Pit. No matter her reasons, he had every justification to kill her.

Steeling herself, Laurel closed her eyes, and waited for the blow to come.

"However, it is through these actions that you have saved us. Punishing you for that would be in poor form."

Laurel's eyes snapped open upon hearing that. What? Out of a sudden bout of bravery, she dared to look up and meet Ra's' eyes. There was a touch of respect there.

"I have met your kind before, Taer Al-Aswad. I have always known you would never be truly loyal to the League," he continued. "You have broken our laws, which you must be punished for, but you did so to save us, which grants you a degree of mercy. So I offer you this as your punishment: a complete release from your vow to us. Should you accept, you will be free of all of your remaining obligations to the Demon, and be allowed to return to your former life."

For a moment, Laurel didn't know what to say. There were two different ways a member of the League could be released from their oath: a "ghost" release and a "complete" release. A "ghost" release allowed a person to return their former life as well, but it came with caveats. The released was still beholden to the League's laws and code, including fighting against evil and not using their skills for any kind of monetary or personal gain. If those conditions were not met or were broken, then the released was at the mercy of the League and whatever punishment they devised for them. On the other hand, it also came with the benefit of still being able to use League resources if they gave ample reason to the master, including many of their safehouses.

A "complete" release was similar but distinct. The released in that case could both return to their former life and use the skills they learned from the League for whatever purpose they wished, without any fear of reprisal. This included becoming a mercenary, something that was usually heavily frowned upon and warranted a punishment. However, the downside was that the person could not access League resources anymore, nor make any contact whatsoever with the League. That was why it was called a "complete" release — the former member was supposed to sever their ties entirely from the Demon, and breaking that promise would see severe consequences visited upon them.

But Laurel didn't care about that. She could finally leave the League behind her for good and never have to think about this chapter in her life ever again if she wanted to. She could move on. In many ways, a complete release from her vow was everything she could ever want.

Except for one thing.

She could already feel Shado's gaze burning into her, and Laurel could not help but glance her friend's way. If she accepted this, accepted the offer Ra's granted her, then she would have to leave Shado behind in the League. She would never get to see her best friend again, and the mere idea of that alone tempted her into saying no.

But of course, Shado had to make it difficult. The older woman made eye contact with her and shook her head, silently mouthing to her to accept. They both knew that they would never get a chance like this again. If Laurel refused now, then Ra's might very well keep her in the League forever, and she would never get to see any of her loved ones again, nor be able to fulfill her goal of solving the mystery behind the Gambit's sinking.

So Laurel turned back to Ra's. Upon seeing the unflinching glint in his eye, she knew any attempt at refusal would've been pointless anyway. He wasn't going to accept no for an answer. After all, he knew of her bond with Shado, he knew what this would do to them both. And this was supposed to be a punishment as much as it was a reward. There was no greater punishment he could give her, than separating her from her last remaining loved one.

"I accept," Laurel answered, once more bowing her head.

"Very well then." With that, he stepped forward, and placed a hand on top of her hooded head. "Taer Al-Aswad. By my right as Ra's al Ghul, I release you. You are now free to return to your former life."

He removed his hand and stepped backwards. Laurel got to her feet, and gave him one final bow, before stepping back herself, next to Bruce and Dick. The older of the two men placed a hand on her shoulder, a silent request that she leave with them.

"Someone will be sent to you later with your things," Ra's told her solemnly. "Now, our business with you all is finished. I must ask you to leave. Athena, Al-Owal, escort the outsiders from the premises."


The rest passed by in a blur. They were escorted out of the mansion and to the gates of the estate by the older assassins. Athena was quick to leave them once they arrived at their destination, but Al-Owal lingered behind for a moment. He shared a final look with Laurel, a single nod of acknowledgement that she returned after a brief hesitation, before taking his leave. She supposed that was his way of saying goodbye.

With that, she was driven back to the Bat-Cave with Batman and Nightwing, where Alfred was waiting for her with a change of clothes. To her surprise, also waiting for them there was Barbara Gordon. It was the first time Laurel had seen the other woman in person ever since the disastrous night where at Barbara's home where she had been revealed to be a spy.

"You'll be staying with me for the time being, until you figure out your next step," the information broker explained. "Having an unknown woman stay at Wayne Manor when there's paparazzi occasionally lying about will just cause problems."

"I see," Laurel said, giving Barbara a nod of thanks. "Thank you for your generosity."

She paused for a moment, and then added, "I'm sorry about spying on you for the League, by the way. I know it was my mission and everything, but it was still wrong. For what it's worth, I really was beginning to like you as a friend, and Shado was too."

Barbara gave her a piercing look, before waving her off. "Since you helped saved Gotham, including my dad, consider it water under the bridge. Though you better not do it again," she warned half-jokingly.

Laurel smiled. "I won't. I promise."


She stayed over at Wayne Manor for the night, and for breakfast, before heading over to Barbara's. After a moment of thought, Laurel had decided to keep her hair hidden under a hoodie and wear a pair of sunglasses while out in public. She wasn't quite ready to let the world know Dinah Laurel Lance was alive yet.

Honestly, she wasn't sure what she wanted to do yet. Everything happened so fast, and she needed time to think. Part of Laurel desperately wanted to go home immediately and reunite with everyone, but the rest of her was fighting against it. Now that the euphoria of saving Shado had passed, she could feel the immense guilt that had been dragging her down ever since she had joined the League returning. A feeling that had only grown since last night.

How could she face any of her friends or family after what happened? Laurel might have helped stopped the attack, but that didn't change the fact that beforehand, she had played a part in perpetuating it, no matter how small. Nor the fact that she had done so, knowing it was wrong but unwilling to act because she had been too much of a coward to try otherwise.

The Bats couldn't have forgotten that either. Regardless of the sob story she had given them, she was still a criminal, an assassin. And now that she was released from the League, they could send her to Blackgate without any fear of reprisal from the Demon. They wouldn't even have to live with her blood on their hands; Ra's no longer had any just cause to kill her.

But they hadn't. Whether out of pity or sympathy or some elaborate attempt of manipulation, they had opted to help Laurel instead. She couldn't help but feel grateful, even if the rest of her rebelled at so easily getting a pass. Maybe she had made up for her part in the attack, but what about the rest?


The answer came to her the following night. She had been listless, sitting on Barbara's couch and mindlessly flipping through the TV channels. There were over three years of pop culture she had missed out on, and yet Laurel couldn't find it in herself to focus on any of it. She was almost grateful when the doorbell rang, giving her a reason to get up and do something remotely productive.

Then Laurel opened the front door, and saw Shado at the other end of it.

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Laurel silently stepped aside to let her in. Shado accepted the invitation, walking inside as Laurel closed the door behind her. In her hands with a small burlap sack. All of Laurel's meager belongings, the ones that belonged to her and her alone, and not the League.

"I can't stay for too long," Shado told her once they were facing each other again. "If I do, they will get suspicious."

"I know," Laurel said, reaching over to give her friend a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

Shado returned the gesture with a bittersweet smile, before reaching inside the sack to take her things out. The first thing was Laurel's Canary necklace, which Laurel moved to take herself and tie it back around her neck. There was no need to keep it off any longer, after all.

A few weapons followed, including some of the knives from Lian Yu, one of the few other things to survive the Amazo's sinking. Then the List, which Laurel grabbed rather firmly. She needed to take another look at it later, now that she had time to focus on it.

That should've been it, but Shado had opted to give her one last thing: the Hozen.

"Are you sure?" Laurel asked, a touched shock, even as she accepted the arrowhead.

Shado nodded. "So you'll always have a piece of me with you to remember me by," she explained. "And maybe, one day… it will lead us back to each other."

Laurel's hand enclosed over the arrowhead, and then she threw her arms around the other woman, feeling the tears one more come. Shado returned the embrace without a moment's hesitation, clutching her back just as hard. "Sisters?"

"Sisters," the older woman confirmed, just as emotional. "Always and forever."

The now-former assassin squeezed her friend tighter. "Thank you for everything, Shado. I love you."

"I love you too, Laurel," Shado replied. "And thank you for everything as well."

They tried to stay like that for as long as possible. But eventually, they had to let go. With salty tears, Shado bid her one final wave as a farewell. And the moment she stepped outside and closed the door behind her, Laurel finally felt like she was entering the next chapter of her life.


After Shado was gone, Laurel finally allowed herself to break down and spent the next hour crying her heart out in the room Barbara had given her. Everything that had happened these past three years, all the pain and sorrow and anger she had bottled up, it all finally came out at once. Now that Shado was gone from her life, perhaps for good, now that she was free from the League, Laurel no longer felt the need to try and be strong. She could finally just… let go.

It hurt and yet it felt so good. A catharsis that had been a long time coming. Once her tears finally stopped, she went to the bathroom to clean herself up, and then downstairs to pick up a glass of water from the kitchen. The feeling of that cool liquid down her throat served to calm Laurel down, and she made sure to swallow down every last drop.

Now she could think. And almost immediately, her mind went to one thing: the List.

As she picked up that little notebook, Laurel felt her resolve hardened. Everything that had happened to her these past three years, all of it went back to that book and the man who had given it her before putting a bullet in his own head. A man whose death that she had promised to one day solve, no matter what it took.

In was in that moment, Laurel knew she couldn't go back home. Not yet, at least. Not after the League, not with all this… darkness swirling inside her, looking for some kind of outlet. If she was ever going to figure out the mystery behind the sinking of the Queen's Gambit, behind Robert Queen's death, then she needed to find some way to channel all the conflicting feelings inside her into something constructive. She owed it to him and his family to find those answers and get him justice, no matter what.

She knew just who to help her in order to achieve those goals.

The only question was whether or not he'd be willing to.


"I need your help."

When Barbara got home, the first thing she had asked the other woman if she had a discreet vehicle Laurel could use to visit the Bat-Cave. She needed to talk to Bruce as soon as possible, before she lost her resolve. Barbara had been confused and a touch suspicious but said that she did, on the caveat that she come along. She didn't trust Laurel quite yet, for all that she had seemingly forgiven her. Laurel was too determined to be offended.

Dick blinked. "Again? Is there some other League plot going on that we need to know about?"

Laurel shook her head. "No, nothing like that," she said. "It has to do with something more personal. Something from before I joined the League."

Bruce, sitting in his swivel chair in front of the Bat-Computer, narrowed his eyes at that, while the rest of his team (Alfred, Dick, and Barbara) straightened up. They all gathered around Laurel and waited expectantly. Laurel, for her part, took out the List and handed it to Bruce.

"As you all know, I omitted some of my back story to all of you when we first met," she started with. "Part of it is because a lot of those memories were too painful for me to recount, even now. But also because some of them weren't relevant at the time."

"And now they are?" Barbara asked, somewhat skeptically.

The former assassin nodded. Bruce's frown deepened, and he held up the List. "This is a list of a number of prominent businessmen, politicians, and criminals from Starling City. And it's written in League ghost ink, but the looks of it. Where did you get it?"

"From Robert Queen," Laurel revealed, much to everyone else's surprise. "The night the Gambit sank, I wasn't the only person to make it to the life raft. Robert, and his bodyguard Dave Hackett did as well. We drifted at sea for a few days, but it was clear that unless we were found soon, we weren't going to make it. The rations and water we had weren't enough to support three people."

"Then, one morning, Robert started speaking strangely. He said that he didn't save our city, that he failed Starling somehow, and that what happend to the Gambit was the result of that."

It took a moment for the realization to hit. "The yacht was sabotaged," Dick said slowly, eyes widening.

"Yes. Ollie once told me that the Gambit had sailed in storms much worse than the one it supposedly sank in, which is what made the situation so strange. I wasn't really sure to believe it until I got the List and found the names, and my suspicions only rose when I learned they had been written in the League's ghost ink."

"Shado and I investigated the League's records but we couldn't find any tie between them and Robert. And I couldn't leave to do any more investigating because of obligations to the Demon. But now that I'm free, that's no longer an issue."

"Before we go any further, just what happened to Mr. Queen?" Alfred asked, pursing his lips.

Laurel looked down. "Like I said — there wasn't enough rations for three people. So Robert made a choice to make sure at least one of us would survive. He took out his gun and killed Dave, then gave me the List, telling me it would help solve what happened to the Gambit. Then he told me to tell his family that he loved them, before…" She trailed off, and looked away.

Now that there were solemn looks all around. They were all smart enough to figure out what had really happened to Robert.

"That's why I need to solve this," Laurel said once she regained her composure, a steely glint in her eyes. "Someone tried to kill Robert Queen, and they succeeded when he chose to give his life for mine. I owe it to him and to his family to find out who that person is and bring them to justice. It's the least they deserve."

"So what do you need help with, then?" Bruce asked, closing the book in his hands. "I sympathize with your plight Laurel, and I would love to investigate this myself, but I can't leave Gotham. None of us can."

"I know." She closed her eyes. This was it.

"I'm going to be blunt, Bruce. I need you to train me to be a vigilante."

Notes:

FINALLY! This chapter was way longer than I thought it was going to be, but it turns out Laurel had a lot to process here.

So, yes, this is how Laurel leaves the League. The reality is that she did break a shit-ton of the League's laws by going to Bruce for help, and under different circumstances, she would be killed for that. But at the same time, Ra's still has some honor and isn't an ungrateful bastard, so he's not going to persecute the woman who saved him and most of his elite from being turned into brainwashed lackeys for a maniac like the Joker. So he decides to cast her out instead.

As Laurel notes, this is both a reward and a punishment. She hates being part of the League and no longer having any obligations to them is a dream come true. However, it also means she's going to be separated from Shado, possibly forever, after she had just gone through hell to save Shado from the Joker. There's really no reason for Ra's to try and punish Laurel any other way, because there's no greater punishment for her right now than that, and he knows it.

We will see Shado again later down the line, but not for some time. Now, we're getting into the next chapter of Laurel's life — remaking herself into the hero she was meant to be.

Also, as for how this differs from what happened in (theoretical) canon — as I told you before, Sara wasn't sent on this mission because she wasn't trained enough yet and because Ra's didn't want to risk her helping Nyssa. Therefore none of the League escaped being Jokerized, there was a lot more damage to Gotham and it took a lot more effort for Bruce and the Bats to find the Joker Gas and engineer an antidote. Because of that, by the time the League was free from the brainwashing, the Joker and Harley were already in Batman's custody and he prevented Ra's from killing them, which is what caused Ra's to finally wash his hands of the idea of making Bruce his heir and eventually turning his attentions to Oliver.

Next Chapter: The Beginning of Year 4.

Chapter 22: Study Buddy

Summary:

Laurel begins her training with the Bat-Family.

Meanwhile, in Seattle, Sara has begun her first year of medical school.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Gotham City

If there was anything Laurel learned to enjoy over the past several years, it was fighting.

Not at first, obviously. At first, learning how to fight was a matter of survival, and it wasn't like Slade was the kindest of mentors. But she threw everything she had into his tutelage because the other options were too terrible to contemplate. Either she fought or she died or worse. There wasn't going to be a middle ground.

But then Shado started teaching her as well, and that was when she realized she was genuinely starting to like combat. Not in the sadistic sense, she didn't derive pleasure from causing excessive pain or death, but she felt alive in a way that nothing else had ever really made her feel, not even during her pursuit to become a lawyer. Learning how to fight made her feel confident, strong. Like nothing could ever really hurt her again, even though she knew it wasn't true.

The League had cured her of that for a time. Their training was harsh, unrelenting, cruel in a way not even Slade's had ever been. There was nothing fun about going to bed every night with a million bruises and cuts and fractured bones, living in constant terror that if you didn't measure up, you would be killed. Laurel hadn't enjoyed fighting then, unless it was against Shado. At least with her, the spars were friendly competitions rather than an endless parade of tests for competency.

So it only figured that leaving the League behind reawakened that joy. Bruce wasn't as a kind a master as Shado but nowhere near as harsh as Slade, and he certainly wasn't the slave master the League was. His criticisms were blunt and on the point but never excessive, and he always acknowledged where she did well and where she could improve. Laurel thrived under his instruction.

Within a few months, she could honestly say she was a match for Dick. Not that she was a pushover before thanks to the League, but the former sidekick had years of experience on her in addition to being a natural-born acrobat. He was one of the best fighters she had ever seen, easily on par with her Australian mentor. When they first started sparring together, Laurel rarely ever beat him, so managing to reach his level in such a short amount of time was an accomplishment.

Bruce, however, was at a level even beyond that. He was perhaps the only combatant Laurel could ever consider a genuine equal to Ra's al Ghul, who was the greatest fighter she had ever seen. Even Slade (before the Mirakuru essentially put him on steroids) wouldn't have been a match for him, if she had to be completely honest to herself. The man was large and strong, but also lightning fast with quick reflexes. Combined with decades of experience and training to supplement his skill, it was no wonder why Ra's became so obsessed with the idea of making him his heir.

A fact that was being made pertinently clear during her own spar with her mentor, right at this very moment. Laurel, despite her own fast blows, found herself unable to penetrate his guard. Bruce was easily matching each strike she made, blocking them or dodging them. Finally, after a prolonged exchange, he found his own opening and Laurel found her breath leaving her lungs as she was sent to her back thanks to a powerful palm strike to the solar plexus.

"Oof," Laurel let out a grunt as she landed on the mat. After a moment to catch her breath, she sat up and rubbed the back of her head. The mat cushioned most of the blow, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt, even if was just a little bit.

"You shouldn't be so quick to go full-blast and on the offensive once you perceive an opening," Bruce lectured her. "You should build up to that instead so that way you don't waste all your energy on a potentially fruitless barrage."

"Right, right," Laurel agreed, getting back to her feet. "Don't be too eager to end the fight as quickly as possible." She rolled her shoulders and took on another stance.

But Bruce shut her down. "It's almost time for patrol," he claimed. "Go towel and get water. Shower as well. Then you can hit the books."

The books, in this case, being the number of forensics texts he had assigned to her to read. There was a reason why he was called the Detective, after all — her newest teacher and the man she had asked to train her as a vigilante was under the opinion that the best way to be a successful one was to be an effective investigator. Both Dick and Barbara had undergone this training while they were in the field, and now it was Laurel's turn.

It was strange at first, but the more Laurel thought about it, the more it made sense. The vigilantes of Gotham came about thanks to the ineffectiveness of the police and the rampant crime throughout the city. Many of the members of the GCPD were either corrupt, incompetent, or both. And those that weren't were bogged down by red tape and politics. It only made sense to Bruce that he would have to fill in that gap until the GCPD could be cleaned up. And if Laurel was planning to do the same in Starling, then she needed to be able to fill in the gaps for the police there as well, if need be.

A vigilante. In Starling. If her father knew…

Well. She'd cross that bridge when she got to it.


Flashback — Three Months Ago

"It's definitely League ghost ink," Bruce grunted as the results appeared on the Bat-Computer. He lifted the List and glanced at Laurel. "And you're certain that Robert Queen had no ties to the League?"

"Positive," Laurel confirmed, nodding.

"So how did he get a list of Starling's most ill-reputable criminals?"

She shrugged. "What I want to know is why he had it in the first place," she posited back.

"For blackmail."

Every eye turned to Dick. The youngest man in the room cleared his throat. "It's kind of obvious when you think about it. He had a list of people who were shady and corrupt, many of whom were not openly so. But the only way he could compile such a list is if he had proof of their wrongdoings. And yet, if he had proof, why didn't he go to the police or the FBI with it?"

Laurel's eyes widened in realization. "You're right. There's only two reasons why a person would withhold criminal information about another person: either they care about that person and don't want harm or punishment to come upon them…"

"…or they intend to use that information for their own ends. Usually by forcing that person to do something for them," Barbara finished. "Also known as blackmail."

"But why would Robert want to blackmail so many people?" the other woman wondered. "Is that why he was killed? Because someone on the List was sick of being extorted by him?"

"I don't think it's quite that simple," Bruce noted, narrowing his eyes down at the book. "For one thing, how certain are we that Robert was the one who authored this list?"

There was a beat of silence as everyone processed that statement. "You did say you couldn't find any connection between Mr. Queen and the League," Alfred pointed out, turning to address a paling Laurel. "That doesn't mean it didn't exist, but…"

"Right," Laurel agreed. "And there's no way he's a former member. His life is well-documented, at no point did he disappear during a long enough period to train with them, even if it was just long enough to learn the secret to their ghost ink. And as for the list itself…" She trailed off.

"It takes times to collect so much damning information on so many people," Barbara said, throwing in her own two cents. "Even with the help of computers, something like this would take me months. Robert Queen was the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. If he was the one who compiled the information to build the List, it would've taken him years."

"Which he didn't have," Laurel finished. She inhaled a deep breath. "More than one person had to have a hand in writing this. At least one of them knew the secret to the League's ghost ink. Which can only mean one thing — there's an entire conspiracy behind his death."

Bruce glanced over at her. "One of the reasons why you never told Ra's about this even after finding out about the ink is because you were never sure what connection the League had to Robert's death. Even now, we still can't be sure, and there's no way to verify it anymore. The League has cut us off permanently. We can no longer appeal to them for any aid."

"In addition to that, whoever sabotaged the Queen's Gambit to kill Robert Queen was willing to murder several innocent people alongside him, including you, to make it happen. Knowing all the dangers involved in this, are you still willing to risk your life just to get him justice?"

It was a test, Laurel knew. Perhaps this entire conversation had been a test. But none of that mattered. Laurel already knew her answer before Bruce had even finished speaking.

She straightened her back as she began to speak. "Robert gave his life so I could live," Laurel said, her words firm. "I love his family almost as much as I love my own. They, along with everyone else who lost someone on the Gambit, deserve justice for what happened to them. I didn't put in so much effort into surviving for this long just to give up when I finally have a serious chance to pursue it for them."

With that, the former assassin looked Bruce dead in the eye. "In short, you're not getting rid of me that easily."

They stared each other down for a long moment, before Bruce did the one thing Laurel didn't expect him to: smile.

"Good. Your training starts tomorrow night," he told her, before turning back to the Bat-Computer. "I suggest you go back to Barbara's and get some rest."

Laurel blinked in surprise. But then, she found herself smiling back.


Seattle

Sara Lance rolled her shoulder blades as she got up from her desk and began packing her books into her bag. After several hours, her professor had finally dismissed her class, and Sara was looking forward to returning home and laying on her bed for an hour to soothe her headache before tackling her homework. The curriculum of the University of Washington's School of Medicine was no joke.

Not for the first time, she wondered how she ended up here. There was a time when Sara was convinced she was never going to graduate from college. All post-secondary school education was good for, in her honest opinion, was finding the best parties to get your rocks off. Her future beyond the next bit of fun was never much of a concern to her.

But then Laurel died, and Sara got tossed into the deep end of the pool called growing up. Multiple arrests and a DUI that only wasn't on her record because her dad pulled every string he could find, Sara was on the fast track to following her older sister to the grave, which had been her intention at the time. It took her parents putting their feet down and showing her how much she was hurting everyone around her, how much she was dishonoring her sister's memory, to stop.

They decided therapy was the best way to help her pull away from her downward spiral. And now, after an increased workload, a ton of summer classes, and a lot of hard work, she found herself in her first year of med school, studying to be a doctor. Sara couldn't help but think that if Laurel was here, she'd be proud, and the idea of that warmed her heart.

"Sara!"

The blonde turned around to see who was calling her, and saw that it was one of her classmates — Alex Danvers. They had met during orientation and had become reasonably good friends, something only bolstered by how many classes they shared together. "You got a minute?" Alex asked once she caught up to Sara, a little out of breath.

The younger woman nodded. "Sure. What's up?"

Alex sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. "I'm having issues understanding our latest unit in Pharmacology," she confessed. "I know you have a knack for that sort of thing, so I was wondering if we could study together. In return, I could you help with one of the subjects you're having problems with."

It was a reasonable offer. Sara thought it over for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Okay. I have been having trouble with Anatomy, and I know you're good at that, so is that fine?"

"That's perfectly fine," Alex agreed, smiling. "My apartment, tomorrow night? We can hash out a more solid schedule then."

"Sounds good," Sara said, nodding again. "I'll meet you at your place at around five. Now, I better head back home. Mom and Dad are definitely waiting for me with dinner."

"Alright. See you later!" With a final wave, she bid Sara farewell. Sara waved back at her, then headed out the door. Time to go home.


Starling City

Since medical school was so expensive, Sara had yet to get a place of her own and was still living with her parents. It was much cheaper that way; her mother might have had a significant inheritance but they were trying to ration that money for emergencies. The recent recession had been proof that they needed to, if either of her parents were going to have any hope of retiring comfortably.

The only serious expense they had splurged on beyond Sara's school fees was another car, and that was because it was more expedient in the long run. It was becoming extremely inconvenient having only one personal car to share between the three of them, especially since her dad couldn't use his police cruiser for personal use. But getting another one, it allowed for all three of them to have a car of their own for most of the week, with only having to share during her father's rare days off.

"I'm home!" Sara announced as she stepped into the house, kicking off her shoes and stretching out her arms.

Quentin's head popped out of the kitchen with a smile. "Welcome home, honey! How was school?"

"Good," she answered back, moving to hang up her coat. "You know my friend Alex? She's having trouble with our latest unit in Pharmacology. I'm going to be studying with her for the next couple of weeks at her place in exchange for her help with Anatomy."

"That's nice, honey. Just remember to check-in with us regularly."

Sara rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her fond smile. "You got it, Dad."


Once she was inside her room, Sara set down her bag at her desk and threw herself on the bed. She didn't regret her choice to become a doctor, but man could the work be exhausting. And it wasn't going to end anytime soon for the next couple of years. She might have a few breaks here and there, but for the most part, Sara was in for a long, hard slog that she was not looking forward to.

Laurel would've loved it, though, Sara couldn't help but think. Her sister had always been a workaholic, something that she had undoubtedly inherited from their father, who was very much the same. That was the thing about Laurel, though — she was never one to take it slow. She was always someone who wanted to get something done, who always wanted to keep moving. It was everyone around her who had to convince her to slow down and take it down a notch.

A small lump formed in Sara's throat, and before she knew it she found herself reaching for the family picture she kept on her desk. The last one of their family whole, before that fucking boat happened and ruined everything. There was Laurel, still and frozen, a timeless snapshot. As always, Sara found her eyes drawn towards it, her hand fingering the image of her sister longingly.

Things had calmed down for the most part, ever since Laurel's death. There was still a quiet ache in the family, and her sister's room remained relatively untouched. Her mother scheduled a day to clean it once a month, but no more than that. Other than visits to her empty grave on her birthday and the anniversary of her death, they had largely transitioned to a new normal. Thoughts about Laurel were no longer so crippling. For better or for worse, they were beginning to move on.

Sara always felt a little guilty about that. She knew that was what Laurel would've wanted, that she wouldn't have wanted them to put their lives on pause just because she was gone. Even so, to her it sometimes felt like they were forgetting Laurel, even though she knew it wasn't true. The picture Sara kept on her desk was proof enough of that, along with the background of her own phone, which had a photo of her and Laurel together when they were kids. It had taken her forever to figure out a way to upload that, but it had been worth it. Hell, even the reason she was in medical school in the first place was because of her sister.

She wasn't the only one. Both of their parents had pictures of Laurel on their desks in their respective workplaces, front and center. And Sara knew for a fact that Ollie still carried the picture Laurel gave him right before she went on that godforsaken yacht in his wallet. He also visited her grave often, perhaps even more often than they did. Probably because he could visit his dad's whenever he wanted since it was on Queen grounds, and he didn't want Laurel to feel neglected.

Laurel was many things, but she wasn't forgotten. But yet, even with all that, there were some days where the grief was just too much. Where all Sara could think of at all was her sister, about how much she missed her and much it hurt knowing that she wasn't with them anymore. How many times had Sara turned to open air to tell Laurel something, only to realize that she wasn't there anymore, that she was never going to be there anymore? How many times she wished Laurel was here so she could ask her sister for advice, only to be reminded that her sister was gone? No matter the countless reminders, all the times she had that fact thrown into her face, those moments had yet to cease.

Maybe in a few years, the would, or at least come less often. But Sara knew, in her heart of hearts, that the pain would never completely dull. There was always going to be a piece of herself missing that she would never get back. Not until she was dead herself.

With a sigh, Sara laid back down on her bed, clutching the picture to her chest. Wherever you are up there, she thought, closing her eyes, I hope you're watching over me.

Notes:

Bit of a slow start but we'll be getting to fun stuff soon enough. This year is going to be focusing on both Lance sisters — Laurel's adventures in Gotham, and Sara back in Starling. And yes, that is indeed E-1 Alex Danvers. In this AU, Krypton never exploded (pretend canon!Ollie got that Kryptonite arrow in COEX from an alternate earth), so Kara never landed with the Danvers. Alex is an only child here.

Next Chapter: A day in the life of Gotham with Laurel.

Chapter 23: Crime Alley

Summary:

Laurel visits Park Row, the most dangerous neighborhood in Gotham, and learns of the newest player to make their way to the city.

Back in Seattle, Sara bonds with Alex.

Notes:

Pre-Author's Note: For those of you who are asking me to update more often, please stop. This story gets weekly updates. I established that some time ago. That is not going to change.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Gotham City

When Laurel decided she was staying in Gotham full-time in order to receive vigilante training, the question became whether or not to do it as Dinah Laurel Lance or as someone else. Part of her wanted to do it as the former and reunite with her friends and family, knowing how much her death had to have hurt them. But the rest of her balked at the idea — she wasn't ready to go home yet. And if she met with those same loved ones now, they would start to question why she was staying in Gotham for the time being instead of going back to Starling with them, where she truly belonged. Not to mention, people would talk a female vigilante showed up around the same time Laurel came back to life, and seemingly followed her back to Starling.

So she decided that, for the meantime, her real identity had to stay dead. Instead, Laurel decided to co-opt her "Myra Kallen" identity and use that instead. Barbara confirmed that the digital trail for "Myra" had not been wiped away by the League, so it was little problem for them to use it for their own purposes. The other woman had quickly built-up more documentation to safeguard the false identity, including a few forged papers such as a passport and a driver's license, to make "Myra" a real person, even if she really wasn't.

This wouldn't be an issue if she just stayed cooped up inside the Clocktower or Wayne Manor or the dozen other little locations the Bats had under their ownership, but everyone quickly determined that wasn't going to be feasible. Laurel needed to go out there and experience the world if she was ever going to move on with her life and maintain whatever was left of her sanity. Besides, she wanted to do things that made her feel useful, beyond her impending career as a vigilante.

To that end, she had begun visiting Park Row, better known colloquially as Crime Alley, the second worse neighborhood in Gotham after the Cauldron (which might as well exist in its own little world). Despite its terrible reputation, Park Row had a well-regarded local community center that put out several regular outreach events, including soup kitchens and charity drives. And better than that, the events didn't require her name or face to be recorded if she wanted to volunteer, so it was safe for her to go there.

So with a light heart, Laurel took the bus to Park Row, her hair dyed wine red and with blue contacts in her eyes. It was about half an hour before she made it to her stop, and then about five minutes walking until she arrived at the center. Already, the tables were out on the sidewalk, decorated with plates, bowls, utensils, and numerous pots and pans, filled with warm, hearty food. People were already lined up for their own meals, so Laurel was quickly directed inside so she could put on an apron and a hair net before joining the rest of the line servers.

They placed her at the end, helping to serve the pasta and bread. Laurel plastered on her best smile as she greeted her first patron and began filling their plate. Some of the attendees today were new, but a lot of the people in line she recognized easily as regulars. Those, she chatted with far more easily.

Her smile brightened a touch when one of those regulars appeared at her station. Jason Peter Todd was a sixteen year old Gotham native who had lived a very rough life. His no good father had been a former enforcer for the Penguin who was bumped off by Two-Face, and his mother was a heroin addict that eventually succumbed to breast cancer, leaving him on the streets for good. He had been in and out of juvie since then, taking up the life of a thief to make ends meet.

Despite that, however, he was a good kid. He never actively victimized anyone from the alley and went out of his way to protect the younger children and share his spoils with them. Most of his targets were usually the rich, mainly the criminal elite that had taken advantage of the poor and destitute that lived in his neighborhood. It had earned him a reputation and more than a few scars, but he had declared it "worth it".

He had taken a shine to "Myra" immediately, after she went out of her way to help get supplies for the working girls that hung around the corner near his apartment. They had taken up to chatting every time they met up, and it wasn't long before they developed a casual friendship. Laurel found herself growing genuinely fond of him, and a part of her wondered if she could find him a way out of his unfortunate circumstances.

"Hi Jay," she greeted genuinely, taking his plate and putting some pasta on it. "How've you been?"

"Pretty good," he told her, shrugging nonchalantly. "Though things in the alley have been a bit tense lately."

"Oh?" Laurel couldn't hide her curiosity. "How so?"

Jason looked around for a moment, frowning, before shaking his head at her. "I'll tell you later," he promised.

That meant whatever he had was sensitive and could get him into trouble if the wrong person overheard him talking. Which meant whatever it was, it was serious. Laurel nodded, though she couldn't quite hide her frown.

The second, underlying reason why she was visiting Crime Alley on a regular basis was for information gathering. Barbara's computers and her skill with them were beyond compare when it came to such things, but in the end, there was some knowledge that never quite hit the screen and could only be learned on the ground. Gossip, whispers, rumors — that was why Laurel was here. To learn them and to see if any of it was information worth acting on.


During her break, she met with Jason at his table, which was purposely in the loneliest corner of the building. Laurel set down her own plate and began to eat, and they exchanged easy small talk. Then, Jason told her what was bothering him.

"There's someone trying to recruit their own crew for some bank heists in the city," he spoke in a low voice, occasionally shifting his eyes to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "Most of the recruits are from gangs in both here and in the Narrows, but some of the independents have been picked up as well."

Laurel frowned. "Including you?"

He shook his head, and Laurel internally let out a sigh of relief. Neither she nor the Bats would have to take down her friend after all. "I've fielded a few offers but refused all of them," Jason revealed. "I don't want a charge of armed robbery on my record; I'm already at an age where the courts could try me as an adult if the crime is serious enough."

"That's good," she noted. Laurel hesitated for a moment, but pressed on. "Do you know if it's a new player or an old hat? Just so I know who not to piss off."

"New player," Jason answered. His face scrunched up a bit. "Word on the street is that he calls himself 'The Calculator'."


Seattle

"So you're from Midvale?" Sara asked, absentmindedly straightening out her flashcards. "Where's that?"

Alex took a sip of her water bottle and swallowed. "About sixty miles outside of Metropolis. Small town, a bit remote. It's still home, but I don't regret leaving — needed to get out and see the world for a bit."

Sara nodded, humming. "And that led you to medical school."

"Well, I plan on becoming a bio-engineer, and med school is a stepping stone to that. What about you? What do you intend to do?"

"Probably something like pediatrics. Maybe even primary care." The younger woman shrugged. "Really, I just want to help people." Helping people was what Laurel wanted to do, after all.

They got chatting for a bit before carrying on with studying. Out of courtesy, they started out with pharmacology, then moving onto anatomy. Before Sara knew it, several hours had passed — they had gotten so into the material that they had lost track of the clock.

"I better head on home," she told Alex as she began packing up her bag. "Same time again on Saturday?"

Alex smiled. "You can count on it."


The week came and went, and then Saturday arrived. Sara went to Alex's and the two picked up where they left off, in addition to adding some of the new material they had learned during the week. This time, they were much more mindful of the time, and as it neared eight o'clock, Alex made an unexpected suggestion. "You want to go out?"

Sara blinked. "Where to?"

"How about a club? We've been studying hard these past couple of hours and it wouldn't hurt to go out and let loose for a bit."

The suggestion wasn't unappealing. While Sara had sworn off hard partying after her disastrous breakdown in the weeks after Laurel's death, that didn't mean she was afraid to occasionally go to a party or club and do some socializing. There was a reason she hadn't balked at planning Tommy's birthday party, after all.

"Sure. Sounds fun. You already got a place in mind?"


It turned out Alex did. A new hot club called Warriors had just opened up downtown, managed by a former school teacher and police officer named Guy Gardener. Warriors had quickly gained a reputation for good food, even better drinks, and awesome entertainment. Alex had been meaning to try it out for sometime but didn't feel like going alone, and Sara's presence had solved that problem.

The two had to wait in line a bit before they could get inside, but once they were in, they couldn't help but be impressed. Warriors had this strange but impressive neon green theme accompanied by a lot of lanterns to serve as tasteful decoration as much as it did lighting. Both women went ahead to find a table and ordered some drinks (virgin, for Sara) so they could get into the mood before joining everyone else on the dance floor.

Before they could, however, they found themselves running into some guys. "Oh!" one of them exclaimed, jumping back from the drink Sara nearly spilled on him.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry about that," Sara quickly apologized, pulling the glass back and setting it down on the counter. "I didn't spill anything on you, did I?"

"No, no, it's fine," the man told him. He was kind of cute, with dark hair, green eyes, and a charming smile. "My fault for not looking where I was going. The name's Kyle Rayner. Who might you be?"

Sara blushed slightly. It had been a while since she'd been in the game, and she was a bit out of practice when it came to flirting. "Sara. Sara Lance."

They fell into an easy conversation. Sara learned that Kyle was a freelance graphic artist from LA that was in town to visit one of his friends — the owner of the night club in fact, Guy Gardener. This was going to be his last night in Seattle before he headed back to LA.

"So, are you here with anyone?" Kyle asked, his grin turning a touch roguish.

"I am, actually," Sara confirmed, a hint of a smile. "My friend, Alex. She should be coming back soo—"

"YOU BITCH!"

Whatever she had been about to say had been immediately cut off by that screech. The immediate area immediately fell silent, the only sound being the music, as every eye turned to the direction of the commotion. Sara felt her eyes bulge in horror when she saw who it was: Alex, and some woman Sara didn't know with brunette hair.

But while Sara didn't know her, it was clear Alex did. "You're as big a bitch as ever, Danvers!" the woman claimed, getting right up into Alex's face.

Alex didn't back down, however. "Maybe so, but at least I didn't become a bigger bitch like you did, Donahue," she shot back.

'Donahue' let out another screech and before anyone knew it, she had thrown herself at Alex. The two women fell to the floor and began screaming at each other as they rolled around, trying to rip out each other's hair. People immediately moved to try and separate them, including Sara, who bid a hasty farewell to Kyle. By the time she got there, however, security was already getting involved in the brawl and pulling them apart.


They ended up getting thrown out. Sara didn't get a chance to see Kyle again before having to follow Alex outside. Donahue and her entourage had been thrown out as well, and the other woman made sure to linger long enough to give Alex the finger before heading her own way. Alex glared at the woman's back after that before turning to Sara with an apologetic expression.

"Sorry about that," she said, but Sara waved her off.

"Not the first time I've been thrown out of a club," Sara noted. Or the second, or the third, truth be told. "I'm more worried about you. Who was that?"

Alex looked away. "Vicki Donahue. My ex-best friend from high school. I didn't expect to see her here, and well, let's just say we didn't end our friendship on good terms."

That's putting it mildly. A person didn't get into, for lack of a better term, a cat fight with an ex-friend unless things ended really badly between them. Sara adopted a comforting expression. "What happened?" she asked.

"It was mostly my fault," Alex confessed, rubbing the back of her head. "I was… dealing with something at the time, and it was really stressing me out. So I took it out on Vicki, kept on searching for just about any reason to fight with her. Eventually, she had enough and we stopped talking. Seeing her again tonight brought all those old feelings to the surface, and I couldn't help myself."

Sara didn't say anything, just taking Alex's hand and giving it a squeeze. The other woman sighed. "I wish I could apologize, but after tonight, I doubt Vicki would want to hear it, if she ever had before."

"Just give it time," the blonde suggested. "She'll cool down eventually, and if you two really were ever friends, then she'll hear you out."

Alex looked doubtful, but she didn't completely shut the suggestion down. "Okay," she said instead. Then, "Thanks for letting me unload all of this onto you. I know it can't have been easy, especially after I ruined our night."

"Like I said before, it's fine," Sara replied, brushing the apology off. While she might've enjoyed chatting up Kyle a bit more, the most it would've led to was probably a one-night stand, and truth be told casual sex wasn't nearly as appealing as it used to be. "I get it, you know. Sometimes, you just need to talk to someone. I don't mind being that for you — we're friends, after all."

"Yeah," the older woman agreed, adopting a small, soft smile. "We are."

Sara smiled back. "Come on, it's getting late," she said, tugging at her friend's hand. "We better head back to your place. I need to pick up my stuff before heading home."


Gotham City

When Laurel came to the team with the information she got from Jason, she wasn't met with a promise that they would look into it. Instead, she was met with the option to help look into the situation herself. "You're finally letting me out into the field?" she asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

Bruce nodded, some semblance of a smile on his face. "Your training has been going well, and you know how to hold back from killing now. You haven't made a kill shot in weeks," he said, nodding towards a dummy in the training area. It was a special design made by Lucius, with an in-built alarm that sounded every time it suffered a lethal blow. Laurel had struggled with it at first, but the annoying sound had been great motivation to pick up non-lethal combat quickly.

With the decision made, when night fell Laurel found herself driven in disguise to Wayne Tower, riding in the backseat of the Batmobile. When Bruce, Dick, and her arrived in the secret bunker where the R&D for Batman's technology was, Lucius Fox was already waiting for them, along with his son Luke Fox. Laurel had been introduced to them after she had fully settled in with Barbara and started her training.

"Excited to see your new suit?" Luke asked her as they headed inside one of the labs.

Laurel nodded, unable to keep the grin off her face. One of the first things she'd done was give the Foxes her old League suit and weapons, not wanting to see either ever again. It had been her way of finally letting go of that chapter in her life. They two had instead opted to study and possibly use the material in the makings of her vigilante suit.

Lucius headed to one of the mannequins inside the lab, where a tarp was covering it. He waited until everyone was inside and surrounding the mannequin before removing it with a flourish, revealing what was beneath. Laurel's jaw dropped, and she unconsciously put her hands to her mouth in awe. "Lucius, this is incredible!"

"I take it you like it?" the old scientist asked, pleased.

"I love it!" Laurel exclaimed, reaching out to feel the material.

The suit was comprised of a black leather and fishnet jacket with yellow detailing. It was accompanied by a bodysuit and pants made of similar material and detailing, along with thigh-high boots and fingerless gloves. It had its own utility belt, notably slimmed down from the model that Bruce used. Topping it off was a black domino mask, not unlike the one Dick wore as Nightwing.

"I know you prefer hand-to-hand, but sometimes that's not advisable, so we also included some leg holsters for weapons," Lucius explained. "Any preferences?"

"Quarter staffs," Laurel answered instantly. She had taken a liking to staffs ever since Bruce had given her one during the Joker Gas incident. Plus, it was much harder to kill someone with them.

"Alright. In addition, we have something else for you." At his father's gesture, Luke came forward with a box, and opened it. To Laurel's surprise, it had a platinum blonde wig.

He handed the box over to her, which she took hesitantly. "It was Bruce's suggestion," Luke told her. "Wine red is a distinctive color and would've made your identity more easily compromised. This wig will help disguise you for now. We're also in the process of making you a fast-acting dye in this color that you can use. When you return to Starling and stop dying your hair red, you can stop using the wig and just use that instead."

That made sense. Laurel took out the wig and tried it on, and turned to her fellow vigilantes for opinions. Bruce gave her a nod while Dick gave her two thumbs up. Satisfied, Laurel packed the wig back into the box. "Thank you for all of this," she told the father and son.

"It was our pleasure, Miss Lance," Lucius accepted her gratitude with a smile.

"Yeah. We were happy to help!" Luke added with a grin and a thumbs up of his own.

"So what now?" Laurel asked, turning back to Bruce and Dick.

"The last thing on the list: your codename!" Dick exclaimed childishly.

Bruce did his best to ignore his adoptive son's exuberance as he addressed his latest student. "We doubt you want to continue using Aswad as your call-sign," he said, and Laurel made a face.

He was right. Aswad had worked in the heat of the moment, when they were in the middle of a crisis and needed something to call her that wouldn't compromise her identity. But Taer Al-Aswad wasn't who she was anymore, nor someone she wanted to be anymore. She was best left in the past. That being said, it might also be good to have some connection to it, if only so it might be easier to remember.

"So," Dick started, doing horribly at keeping his own eagerness off his face. "Any ideas?"

"Maybe," Laurel said, putting on her thinking face. "Taer Al-Aswad means 'black bird' in English, so that's a good starting point. But I'm not sure I want to be called Blackbird. It doesn't sound quite right."

Her friend paused, then gestured to her necklace. "What about that? Don't you have the emblem of a bird on that medallion?"

"Not just any bird," she corrected. "A canary. Ollie gave it to me before I went on the Gambit. It's something of a joke in my family — my parents got my little sister a pet canary for her birthday but we ended up getting rid of it because it wouldn't stop waking us up with all its screeching."

"Sounds familiar," the vigilante noted, gesturing to his throat.

That… was a good point. Laurel did have a superpower now, one that involved screaming at people very loudly and incapacitating them with the sonic energy. And a canary was a bird. She hummed. "Black… Canary. Black Canary." The moment she said it, a smile slowly began forming on her lips. That was it. That was the one.

"Black Canary," Bruce repeated her, sounding the name on his tongue. "It suits you."

Laurel nodded. "This way, I can keep a piece of my friends and family with me." Her smile turned into a grin. "And if I can annoy criminals as much as that bird annoyed my family, then I'll have Gotham cleaned out by the end of the year."

"Now that's the spirit," Dick declared, throwing his arm around her shoulders and giving her a hug. "Welcome to the team, Black Canary."

Notes:

And thus, Laurel finally becomes who she was always meant to be: the Black Canary. Woohoo!

Of course, I couldn't exactly keep Jason out of this. You all know how much I love him, so I decided to bring him in. Just for the record, his canonical death has been averted entirely thanks to the death of the Joker and Harley. Whether or not he's going to join the Bats this time around, well, I'll keep that a secret for now.

As for the Calculator, that's something that's borrowed from the original notes Arlyss and I made. I will say this, though — the Calculator's appearance in Gotham is a direct result of the changes that came from Laurel being on the Gambit instead of Oliver and Sara. Because of Laurel's intervention, there was significantly less casualties to Gotham than there were in canon, and the Joker's death made Gotham a much more appealing city to move to. So the Calculator decided to take advantage of that to fatten up his pockets a bit.

Also, some Green Lantern shout-outs with Guy Gardener and Kyle Rayner. They, along with Hal Jordan and John Stewart (not John Diggle) are indeed Green Lanterns in this, but obviously they're not public heroes and most of their work is delegated to space. In addition, they're not playing any major part in the story — I don't intend to go beyond S3 so there's no need to involve GLs for this story.

As for Sara and Alex, there's some bonding there. Sara's growing relationship with Alex is a major part of her storyline here. I'll explain more later on, but you'll see.

Next Chapter: Laurel has her first patrol.

Chapter 24: The Black Canary

Summary:

Laurel starts off her career as the Black Canary.

Sara and Alex grow closer.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Laurel's first night on patrol was going to be spent solo, but on a comparatively quiet route where no one expected to have much crime. She knew how to fight, but she didn't know the city and the city didn't know her. They wanted to establish her reputation a bit, before Bruce brought her to meet with Gordon. "It'll be good to build up some good will before I give you my endorsement to him," her mentor explained.

So that's how she found herself patrolling the Diamond District, the wealthiest part of Gotham. Despite that, however, not even this neighborhood was quite as free of the crime that plagued the rest of the city. Already Laurel had to step in to stop about three muggings and (much to her fury) a few rape attempts. She had dealt with the latter using extreme prejudice.

After dusting her hands off with the latest beating she had to deliver, the commlink she had been given right before setting out flared to life. It had a direct link to Oracle, allowing them a two-way connection that could be used at any time. "Canary, you doing alright?" Barbara's voice, slightly mechanized, carried into her ear.

"I'm fine, Oracle. Just dealt with another attempted rape," Laurel replied, huffing out a breath. "I hope Batman doesn't mind me dealing with those a little more brutally than advised."

"Don't worry. He doesn't show much mercy to rapists either. You're in the clear," the other woman assured her. "I'm actually contacting you for another reason. There's a bank heist happening near your location. I know we planned on giving you an easy night for your first patrol, but nobody else is close by."

"Sure, I'll handle it. Just give me the directions."


Taking down the crew was surprisingly easy. They hadn't expected her, probably supposing Batman or Nightwing would be dropping in instead, and had underestimated her. That had been their mistake, and they paid with it with having one of her superpowered screams striking the armored truck they had been trying to hijack. She was just about done tying them up with some rope she found when Batman and Nightwing finally did drop in.

"Good job," Batman grunted, taking in the scene. "You used your power?"

Laurel nodded, her face straining a bit as she finished the last knot on the leader.

"You know, we need to come up with some kind of name for it," Nightwing added, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "We can't just keep calling it your 'power' after all."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, you're not the only one in this town with powers," he pointed out.

True. Part of Laurel's training had been looking over and studying the dossiers of Batman's various Rogues, including many of his superpowered ones. It was surprising but also a bit comforting to learn she wasn't the only person around with powers they couldn't quite explain. She had even asked if the Bats had some idea of how they had these powers at all — according to Bruce, Lucius's ongoing theory was that it was likely genetic, but none of them were quite willing to take a closer look at the Rogues to confirm it. That was just asking for more trouble.

"Okay then. How about… 'sonic scream'?" She cringed immediately. Nope, that wasn't it.

Dick cringed as well. "Nah, too generic. How about something to do with your name?"

"What, like Canary Scream?"

"No, no! How about Canary Chirp! You can never do wrong with some alliteration!"

"Yeah, but that sounds too friendly." And her power was many things, but it wasn't 'friendly'.

"How about Canary Cry?"

Laurel jumped when Barbara's voice suddenly interjected into the proceedings. Dick was considerably more composed. "That's perfect, O!" he exclaimed. "Black Canary's Canary Cry. What do you think?"

"I like it," Laurel said after a moment of thought. "I guess that's it. I now use the Canary Cry."

"Wonderful," Batman deadpanned. "Now if you're both done, we need to leave. We have a city to patrol."

And as always, Batman had the final word. Laurel shrugged before taking out her grappling hook. It was time to get back to work.


Starling City

Weeks passed after their disastrous night out at the club, and Sara found herself growing closer to Alex. The other woman was smart, witty, and funny, but also had this no-nonsense attitude that Sara found appealing. It wasn't long before Sara came to regard her as a close friend, one she wanted to spend more time with. So that meant introducing Alex to her two closest friends: Ollie and Tommy.

She invited Alex to a day out in Starling, promising to show the other women all the best sights and treating her to lunch. Which was how they found themselves at Burger & Lobster, side-by-side across her two best friends. Alex didn't look too out of place with them, even a bit happy, and meshed well with the two men. For a moment, Sara thought that nothing was going to go wrong this time.

And then Tommy had to go and make things awkward.

"So, Alex," he said with the Merlyn charm turned up. For some reason, it made Sara irritated just watching it. Really, Tommy? "Ever been down to Orchid Bay? It's got some of the best beaches on the west coast."

Alex smiled politely. "No. Though that sounds nice. I always did like swimming as a kid."

"Well, maybe we can go make a visit later today. Take some pictures. It is winter, after all, and while we can't go swimming, the scenery is to die for."

And now it was Alex's turn to be awkward. "That… sounds nice, but I, uh… have to get back home soon. We've got this big exam coming up that I really need to study for."

Which was technically true, but not really. They did have a big exam, but it was in three weeks. Any studying that she did now would be foundational at best. Useful, but kind of pointless until she got closer to the test. Sara didn't bother calling her out on it, though. She was pleased Alex hadn't become another 'Merlyn girl'.

Tommy, for his part, accepted the tacit rejection with grace. He knew better than to push. That being said, that awkward air remained for the rest of the outing, and Alex never looked more uncomfortable.

Sara was almost glad when it was time for them to go. She loved Ollie and Tommy, she really did, but sometimes, the two of them really could be the biggest pair of boneheads in Starling.


"You know, it's rare when someone manages to resist the patented Tommy Merlyn charm."

Alex, who had been looking out the window, gave a half-hearted shrug and a strained smile to Sara. "Tommy's nice and all, but he really isn't my type," she commented.

Sara hummed in agreement. "And something tells me that you're not one for one night stands, I guess."

"Nope. Even if he wasn't interested in something like that, I'm really too busy for dating." She paused. "What about you, Sara?"

"What? Dating?" At Alex's nod, Sara gave a shrug of her own. "Haven't given it much thought, ever since my older sister died a few years ago. Before that, I was always partying around and having fun. But after… well, I felt like couldn't keep coasting by like that anymore and decided to make something of myself in her memory. Dating's mostly a distraction from that, so I haven't done a lot of it in recent years." The closest had been that one, awkward touch of the lips with Ollie, and Sara knew that had been a mistake the moment they made contact. Whatever they could've had together, it died with Laurel, and she could honestly say now that her feelings for Ollie were never quite as serious as she had once thought them to be.

"So you haven't dated in a while?" For whatever reason, Alex sounded really eager to know.

Sara shook her head, keeping her eyes on the road. "Nope. I don't want to be alone all my life, obviously, but right now it's just not a priority."

"Yeah. That makes sense."

Another period of silence fell between them. For some reason, Sara couldn't help but think that Alex sounded unusually sad when she was speaking. And for whatever reason, that made her sad as well.


Weeks passed. They continued to meet up at Alex's place and study for their exams. Then the exams themselves came, and Sara felt herself wracked with nerves the entire week. She had always been a solid test-taker but the material for medical school was hard, and there wasn't just herself she was worried about. There was Alex to worry about now as well.

But she needn't have been so anxious. They both passed all their exams with flying colors. They'd be able to make it to the next quarter easily. When Alex met up with her with a wide grin and a solid A on her pharmacology exam paper, Sara didn't hesitate to give her the biggest hug she possibly could. "Glad to see all the hard work paid off," she declared.

"Yup. And now, we've got three weeks before returning to the grind," Alex noted happily. "Including Christmas!"

"Which also happens to be my birthday," Sara mused. That had made things awkward the past couple of years. Understandably, Sara had not been up for any serious celebration of Christmas or her birthday in the months after the Gambit's sinking, and neither were her parents for that matter. Things were better the year after that, but the celebrations had been relatively small-scale by design. A nice dinner with her parents, the Queens, and Tommy, an easy thing to arrange since the Queens had opted out of their own traditional Christmas Party since the tragedy.

They had done the same for last year. But this year, Ollie had decided it was time to take a stab at hosting the party again. It wasn't going to be as big as it used to be before the Gambit, but it was something a little more inclusive than their usual secluded gatherings. The Lances, of course, had been at the top of the invite list, and Sara had even been promised a birthday cake if she wanted one.

If this had been the years before, Sara would've immediately said no and arranged another small-scale celebration in a different time slot. But almost four years had gone by now. The wound still felt a little raw, she had a feeling it always would, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as it used to. She could let herself feel happy and not too guilty that her sister wasn't there to share in the feeling with her.

"You're a Christmas baby?" Alex asked, blinking in surprise.

Sara nodded. "We've always made it something of a tradition to celebrate Christmas in the morning and my birthday in the evening," she explained. "This year, however, Ollie is re-hosting his family's annual Christmas Party for the first time in the last few years since his dad's death, and he offered to have it serve as my birthday party as well. You're welcome to come if you want," Sara added shyly.

Unfortunately, Alex shook her head no. "I can't. Heading back home to Midvale for the holidays," she explained apologetically.

"Oh." For some reason, that made her feel extremely disappointed. "That's too bad."

"Yeah," Alex agreed. She hesitated for a moment, then said, "If you want, we can celebrate your birthday together when I get back during the last week of winter break. Maybe go out to another club or something."

Sara immediately brightened. "I'd like that."

"Great. Then that's what we'll do."

"Awesome. I'm already looking forward to it."

She was. She really, really was.


A few days later, they met up again for a girls' night out at a local Christmas village. It was the last day before Alex flew back to Midvale, and she wanted to take some pictures back to show her parents. They went to every single stall and took selfies and videos, even a brief phot-op with Santa and his elves. All in all, it was a great bit of fun.

As the sun began to set and night began to settle in, however, they began to wind down. It was getting colder by the minute and both of them wanted to beat the chill. Which led to the second reason for their meeting — a gift exchange.

"Open yours first," Alex insisted, sliding over the large box to Sara.

"Okay," Sara said as she accepted the gift and carefully began untying the bow on top. Once it was removed, she went about tearing off the wrapping paper, revealing a white rectangular box. She lifted the lid, and gasped.

Alex grinned. "You like it?"

"I love it!" The blonde exclaimed as she pulled out the stylish black leather jacket Alex had gotten her. Almost immediately, Sara went ahead to try it on, marveling at how well it fit her. She tugged at the lapels and did a small pose. "What do you think? Looks good?"

"Looks amazing."

At that, Sara couldn't help but blush. "Thanks. I'll definitely be wearing it often, then." She pulled the jacket off, carefully folding it back into its box. Then she took out her purse and pulled out her own gift to Alex. "Sorry if it seems a bit childish or cheap. I couldn't afford to splurge a lot this year but I still wanted it to be meaningful."

Her friend took the small gift and carefully opened it, removing the bow and wrapping paper. Before she knew it, she had a small bracelet hanging from her fingers, embossed with her initials. "Are you kidding me?" Alex said, sounding genuinely delighted. "I love it, Sara."

Sara felt her blush deepen. "Thanks."

Alex slid her new accessory on, making sure to rotate it so the initials rested on the inside of her wrist. She showed it off to Sara, who gave her two thumbs up. They made another quick selfie with it, and then another one with Sara's new jacket. By the time they were done, the sun had fully gone down and a light snow was beginning to fall.

"Well, we better head home," Sara noted, feeling a bit of disappointment. She didn't really want to separate from Alex, knowing it was going to be weeks before she saw the other woman again. They had been hanging out on a consistent basis for months now; Sara had gotten used to having her around. "What time is your flight?"

"Ten a.m. tomorrow. It's about five hours. I've already got myself a book to read."

"Smart."

They were just about out of the village, right at the gate. Before they exited, however, the noticed right next to the gate was a sign telling them to look up. Sara, out of instinct, did just that and blinked.

Mistletoe.

She stared at it for a bit before looking at Alex. Alex had already noticed it herself. For that brief moment, they locked eyes, and in the next, Alex was kissing her.

Sara stiffened in shock at the unexpected lip contact, before gradually returning it. It didn't last too long, and before she knew it, Alex was pulling away. The younger woman couldn't help but keep staring at her, in complete disbelief at Alex's unexpected actions and her own.

"I, um, better go," Alex said nervously, bidding a farewell wave before hastily exiting through the gate. Sara didn't bother to return the gesture or follow her, still too stunned. She just stood there silently, wide-eyed.

What… just happened?


Gotham City

If she had to be honest with herself, Laurel's first few months as the Black Canary were going pretty well. She was still giving the less 'intensive' routes, but still saw plenty of action. Already she was developing a reputation for taking down many of the lower-level crooks in Gotham, including some of Bruce's lesser Rogues such as Condiment King and Killer Moth.

Even more than that, however, Laurel was a novelty simply because she was someone with powers who wasn't trying to terrorize the city. Already there was word on the street about her being the first "freak" not to try and take over Gotham. There was speculation over whether or not she was putting one over Batman or genuinely trying to play vigilante. It said a lot about the kind of damage Batman's more powerful Rogues caused that the first theory had so much traction no matter how much good work she did.

For her part, Laurel put it out of mind. Vigilantes always had bad raps and she wasn't going to let anyone's opinion stop her from trying to help people. As long as people didn't actually do anything about it, they were free to believe whatever they wanted believe. It was a free country, after all.


The next big break in the bank heist case came when Laurel encountered her most dangerous Rogue yet: Selina Kyle, more famously known as Catwoman. Her file in the Bat-Computer had been particularly detailed, thanks to how early she appeared in Batman's career and the frequency at which Selina and him tangled with each other. When she asked Dick why that was the case, the man had laughed himself sick for five straight minutes before telling her that she would figure it out as soon as she saw Selina and Bruce together. As if such a thing would be a given, and Laurel could only wonder why that was.

Those thoughts briefly crossed her mind when she answered a call for help from the Gotham City Museum of Modern Art. Apparently, a silent alarm had been triggered and the security guard had taken one look at the culprit and knew he wouldn't be able to take her down. The moment he mentioned the gender of the intruder, Barbara had told her immediately that it had to be Selina. "The museum is having a limited-time exhibit on a series of cat-themed sculptures from Ancient Egypt," she explained, voice rather dry. "That's right up her alley."

"I take it you've all been expecting this?"

"Ever since the exhibit was announced. Even the museum has been expecting this — they've installed some seriously effective security measures in preparation for a potential theft, but there's nothing that can keep Catwoman out of somewhere she wants to be for long."

Laurel took the hint and put her foot on the gas of her motorcycle. Another addition given to her by Bruce, modified to go to similar speeds comparable to both the Batmobile and the Wingcycle. She had been given lessons on how to properly maintain the bike, with eventual plans to modify it to her own liking.

She arrived at the museum soon enough, just in time to catch sight of a distinctly cat-like shadow escaping from one of the museum's side windows. Laurel revved her motorcycle before moving to follow the shadow, eventually arriving at the end of the row of buildings. She quickly parked the motorcycle before taking out her grappling hook and using it to pull her up to one of the rooftops, landing on the concrete with practiced grace.

"Mmm… so you're the big guy's newest little bird."

Laurel looked up, and spotted her quarry. A relatively tall, svelte woman dressed in a black leather suit, she had a mask on, one that covered the entire top of her head and was unironically was decorated with cat ears. On her forehead was a pair of goggles with orange-yellow lenses, and in her right hand was a whip she snapped out with an audible sound. Behind her was a large burlap sack — her loot, no doubt.

"You're a bit older than than the other two were when they first started," the older woman noted. "What's your name?"

"Black Canary," Laurel answered, readying herself for battle.

Catwoman grinned. "Oh, honey. Don't you know what cats do to canaries?" With that final word she darted forward, her hands stretched out like claws.

Laurel barely had any time to react to the first blows, blocking the punches and palm strikes on reaction. Catwoman was fast. By the time barrage was over, the younger woman found herself having to leap to dodge the sudden leg sweep her opponent nearly got her with, rolling through the jump and landing on the other side of Selina, near the sack.

Selina was quick, however. She snapped her whip before using it to try and grab onto Laurel's wrist. Laurel was prepared for it however, drawing out her quarter staff to take the blow instead. She gave the staff a quick tug and Selina was drawn forward, right in time to be met with a waiting haymaker.

The blow rocked the older woman, breaking her nose. Laurel, never one to dismiss an opening when she saw it, took advantage of Selina's disorientation and delivered several blows to her midsection. Selina, however, wasn't one to go down so easily and clawed away at Laurel's face, leaving a deep gash. The new vigilante reeled from the strike, wiping away at the blood in an attempt to make the plasma coagulate faster.

It was a mistake. Selina grabbed her leg, and much like how Laurel had done with her whip, tugged forward, causing Laurel to fall onto her back with an ungraceful splat! That earned a groan from the former assassin, but Laurel, ever opportunistic, soon retaliated with a kick to the face, further damaging her opponent's nose.

"Ugh! You bitsch! Are you twying ta force me ta get facial reconstwuctive surgery?"

Laurel didn't bother answering. Instead, she grabbed the sack and swung true. Selina was out like a light before she even hit the ground.

Notes:

So, we get a glimpse of Laurel's first few months as BC, including the naming of the Canary Cry and her fight with Selina. That was fun to write, though we haven't gotten to the really good stuff yet.

And of course, we finally get to Sara's storyline for this year: realizing and coming to terms with her bisexuality. The one thing I hate about a lot of fan fics involving Sara is that they tend to be bi-phobic and refuse to acknowledge that she's attracted to both men and women. Some just use her as "Oliver's hot assassin girlfriend", as if that's her only characterization and ignore or downplay the fact that she's also attracted to women and had a serious relationship with Nyssa. On the other hand, there are some who say "ew" when Sara is paired with a man and say she only belongs with women. Arlyss and I actually got at least two comments on the Forgingverse relating to that, just because we opted to pair her with Tommy in that series.

So here, I intend to clearly demonstrate Sara is attracted to both genders. I've already touched on her canonical crush on Oliver and had her flirt with Kyle Rayner. And here, I intend to go through her growing feelings and attraction for Alex. Please note that Sara/Alex is currently not the final pairing for Sara; I'm still debating on that, as there are two other options that might work out in the future.

Next Chapter: Selina divulges a bit on the heists, and Laurel catches the Calculator's attention.

Chapter 25: Fears

Summary:

Laurel catches the attention of the Calculator.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

By the time Laurel was finished tying up Selina, Batman had arrived with his customary grunt. "The GCPD are on their way," he told her, before glancing down at the rogue. For a moment, Laurel could've sworn she saw disappointment and resignation in his eyes.

Selina, for her part, gave him a cheeky little wave with her free fingers. "Hey thewe, big guy. Why'd you sicc the newbie with the assassin skills on me?"

Laurel blinked. "Wait, how did you know about that?" She winced at the look Bruce shot her. Right. Should've kept her mouth shut.

The other woman gave a throaty, pained chuckle. "You kiddin' me sweetheawt? Evewyone this town has tangwled with the League at least once. Thewe's no way I woudn' wecognize those moves."

Well. That explained why Bruce wanted her to build up a solid reputation before endorsing her to Gordon. If Selina Kyle could figure it out that easily, then there's no way Jim Gordon couldn't do it too. Laurel had read his file, and there was a reason he ended up Commissioner of the entire GCPD.

"Enough," Bruce ordered, clearly sick of the byplay and always determined to get to business. "Selina, do you have any information on the recent bank heists? You're the best thief in town, so there's no way you weren't approached for your expertise."

Catwoman glanced up at him and, much to Laurel's confusion, fluttered her eyes up at him. "Aw, handswome. You of all pweople should know I dwon't kwiss and twell."

Batman's expression, if anything, grew flatter. "Selina…" he said in a warning tone.

"…Fwine," the criminal replied, pouting. "Bwanks awen't weally my style you know, so I twold the big boss to piss off in the end. But he still wanted an in with me, swo he let me stwick along on one of the weists."

Laurel wondered which one it was. Despite taking down the initial crew, the Calculator's bank heists continued on with new crews — multiple ones all hitting up different locations in one night. Too many for the vigilantes and even the police to guard against successfully. She hadn't seen Selina at any of the ones she managed to stop, and both Bruce and Dick would've mentioned spotting her at theirs, which meant the Calculator had to be hitting up more banks without the wider city knowing. And the worst part is, they didn't know how.

"It was pretty stwandawd at first, but when it came to disabling the secuwity system, all the cwew did was plug in swome doo-hickey into the neawest secuwity box and let the bwoss do the wowk. When I asked about it on thwe phone later, he bwagged about having some kwind of unbeatable supewviwus that no one would bwe able to stop."

"Did he say what kind of supervirus it was or if it had a name?"

"Nwope."

"Wonderful," Batman deadpanned, sighing. "Well, thanks for your help, Selina. Gordon's men should be along in about five minutes."

"And as always, you awe going to leave me to bwe awwested," Selina complained, pouting again. "How cold, Bwuce."

Bruce didn't bother responding. "Come, Canary," he said instead, shooting his grappling hook at the nearest ledge. "We've got a city to patrol."

Laurel quickly rushed to follow him, only sparing a single glance back at Selina before shooting her own grappling hook. As she soared next to Batman, she gave the man a speculative look. "So you and her…?"

No answer. Which was pretty much all the answer Laurel needed. 'You'll know it when you see it', he said, she grumbled in her head. Massive understatement, Dick.

"She's right, you know. Leaving her behind to get arrested is pretty cold."

She got another grunt in response. "Don't worry," Bruce said, brushing her off. "Knowing Selina, she'll be breaking out of Blackgate by the end of the week."


Unknown Location

Noah Kuttler was not an easy man to vex. He couldn't be — easily irritable people made stupid mistakes, and he had been at this too long to make those kinds of mistakes. As a man who no longer existed and lived off the grid in an effort to continue his criminal activities without fear of government reprisal, one little slip could send his entire operation tumbling down. So he made an effort not to slip.

But he had to say, he was getting annoyed with these vigilantes. He hadn't thought much of them at first when he came to Gotham to cash in on the chaos and confusion of the city's latest little crisis. Just minor obstacles for him to easily work around while he built up his fortune again. He had always done his best to keep himself well-funded but the recent recession had hit even criminals hard. Noah had needed to replenish.

It turned out, however, the vigilantes were more than a pack of brutes. He should've figured that out when it became clear the police were openly cooperating with them, but Noah had been a bit busy with building up his forces and marveling at his little girl's genius and how rich it was about to make him. Truly, Felicity was wasting her time slaving away at that nine to five job in Starling.

The one called Black Canary had been the one to take down his first crew. That hadn't been an issue, he had quickly recruited another one, plus an extra for redundancy, only for the one called Batman to stop one heist and Nightwing to stop the other. Already word had started spreading about how much of a bust the heists were turning out to be, so Noah had been forced to up the percentage of loot the crews could have in order to make his offers more enticing. He hadn't stopped until he had enough for four crews, guaranteeing at least one of the crews would succeed with the heist and get with the goods, but he had to admit, he was beginning to run out of potential bodies to use.

So he needed to cut them off at the pass. Send them a message. Luckily, there was no shortage of freaks in Gotham that had grudges against Batman and his flock, as Noah had come to learn. The matter was choosing which one to go after them.

Then word came in about one Dr. Jonathan Crane breaking out of Arkham. One of the aforementioned "freaks", he was apparently looking for funding. And, well, if there was anything Noah had learned over the years, it's that it was always wise to invest in the future.

Plus, if Crane were to take a little suggestion from Noah in regards to his next target… well, he was the one paying him.


Gotham City

It turned Bruce was off by a few days. Selina was barely in Blackgate for a day before the news reported she had broken out… again. When Laurel saw that, the only thing she could do was shake her head. One thing she had learned about Gotham over the months since she had started her vigilante training was that this city had terrible prisons. Both Arkham and Blackgate had multiple breakouts to their name, and very little had been done to remedy the problem.

When Laurel questioned her new teammates about why they hadn't solved this, Bruce flatly told her it was because the existing administration in Gotham was corrupt and actually benefited from having such "cardboard prisons". He had been doing his best to solve the issue, but with constant supervillains and rampant criminality running around, he hadn't been able to give it the proper attention it needed. With all of that put into perspective, it was no wonder Ra's had been able to so easily justify killing the criminals of Gotham — he had (not entirely correctly) believed that was the only way they were ever going to face real justice.

Laurel could understand that frustration, but she knew she could never go down that road. Not again, not after she was forced to by fate and the whims of men who thought they knew better than everyone else. So she just shrugged, dedicated some time later in her schedule to maybe figuring out some solutions Bruce could try out, and continued on with her life.

Part of that included expanding her patrol routes. The Bats had determined she had enough experience to begin patrolling some of the more crime-heavy areas of Gotham, and had assigned her a route that ran through Crime Alley. It was still a relatively light compared to what Bruce and Dick dealt with regularly, but it was still a sign of their growing faith in her. Laurel vowed to make sure that faith was not misplaced.

The first few days had gone well enough, but the atmosphere of the alley became tense about a week after Laurel started the route. "It's because Scarecrow has escaped Arkham again," Babs had told her when she mentioned it. She looked particularly grim. "He usually tests new variants of his Fear Gas there. They're probably antsy about when he's going to strike the place next."

Completely understandable. Laurel herself had read up enough about Scarecrow to recognize he was the kind of villain not to take him lightly, powers or no powers. She had already been loaded up with antidotes to inject herself with if she ever ran into the man in question.


About another week after Jonathan Crane's escape from Arkham, Laurel was once more patrolling the alley when she heard a cry for help. Drawing out her grappling hook, she swung down towards the direction of where the cry came from, and found a band of thugs harassing a sobbing woman. The victim had completely curled up into a ball as she tried to shield herself from their vicious blows.

Snarling, Laurel drew out her quarter staff and made quick work of the punks. By the time she was done, they were all fleeing for their lives, beaten and sobbing themselves. Huffing, she turned to the woman. The victim was no longer sobbing, at least. But there was no mistaking the trembling of trauma and shock.

Putting on a more comforting, sympathetic expression, Laurel bent down to check in on her. "Hey, are you alri—"

Quick as a mongoose, the woman suddenly shot up, her hand holding some kind of canister. Laurel only had just enough time to spot the raggedy straw mask that had been plastered all over the city for the past week, before she found herself inhaling some kind of strange, yellow smoke. Almost immediately, she felt herself start to become dizzy and her body weak.

The vigilante dropped her quarter staff and fell to her knees as her eyes began to become bleary. The woman — no, not a woman, Scarecrow — tilted his head and she could practically sense the smirk behind his stitched smile. "A little gift from the Calculator, my dear," he purred. "Enjoy."

Laurel had enough time to give him a weak glare before collapsing on her back.

And then, it started.


Shado appeared first. A picture of herself from Lian Yu, with a dark, angry countenance that was so unlike the Shado Laurel knew. "You abandoned me, Laurel," she said, accusingly. "Why does a freak like you get to be free while I'm still rotting in that hellhole?"

"Yes, why?" Yao Fei asked, appearing next to his daughter. "After everything I did for you, why did you leave my daughter to suffer?"

Laurel shook her head. "No, it wasn't like that…"

"Wasn't it, though?" Slade's insidious voice whispered into her ear. The woman turned her head, shocked, seeing Slade laying right next to her, a bloody grin and an empty eye socket with an arrow sticking right out of it. "Look at what you did to me. I gave up everything for you, and yet the moment I wanted something you didn't, you left me high and dry. Isn't that right, Laurel?"

"No… no…"

"Look at you," And there was Ollie now, glaring down at her, colder than she'd ever seen him before. "A murderer who abandons her friends when she doesn't get her way. How could you think any of us would you want back? Will you kill us too, Laurel?"

He was soon followed by others: Sara, their parents, Tommy, Thea, Mrs. Queen. Even Robert appeared, mounting her body with a hand around her throat.

"To think I gave my life for you," he scoffed, squeezing her throat. "What a mistake that was. If it hadn't been for you, I could've been with my family by now. But instead, I'm cold and in the ground, and here you are, running around like a jumped up thug, abandoning everyone you love so you can play vigilante. Where is the justice in that, Laurel?"

Laurel clenched her eyes closed, and tried to block it all out. If it was the fear gas talking; none of it was true. None of these people were here, they were just her greatest fears come to life to torture her. It wasn't real.

But the hand slowly choking her to death did. It felt more real than anything. Laurel tried to fight it off, but she couldn't. Slowly, her vision began to black out. The end was near.

I'm sorry, everyone…

There was a single prick in her neck. A familiar shade of red. Bright, blue eyes.

And then, nothing.


Seattle

Despite their initial plans, Sara didn't see Alex again until after winter break, when classes started again. When they saw each other right in front of the classroom, they both clammed up and did everything they could to avoid looking at each other. Sara had made sure to take the seat farthest away from Alex, and Alex had made sure to do the same with her.

Normally, class was an agonizing slog of waiting for the period to be over. But with everything going on between the two of them, Sara had been oddly focused on what was being taught. Before she knew it, class was over, and everyone was scrambling to leave. She quickly followed their lead, and was out the door in minutes.

Before she could leave to go to her next class, and hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "Sara," Alex's voice said, and Sara quickly found herself whirling around, doing her best to shake the appendage off.

The two women stared at each other, the awkwardness of the moment ratcheting up by the second. "Alex," Sara said carefully.

Alex swallowed. "Can I speak to you? We need to talk."

Massive understatement right there. Slowly, Sara nodded. "Not here, thought," the younger woman insisted.

"Right. My place, after class?"

"Sure." That was as private as they were ever going to get, after all.


Sara spent the rest of the day on eggshells, nervously looking up at the clock and waiting for the minutes to tick down. When class was finally over, she practically threw all her things into her bag before darting out of the room and to her car. She sped all the way over to Alex's apartment, and it was only when she got there that she realized she made a grave miscalculation. Shit, Sara cursed, she's not here yet.

Indeed, it was another hour until Alex returned to the complex, an hour upon which Sara spent finding the nearest hot dog cart so she could snack on something while waiting. By the time her friend arrived, Sara was sitting on the curb, licking off the last of the ketchup and mustard as she took a final sip of lemonade. She looked up to see Alex staring down at her in fond amusement. Sara smiled up at her and gave a wiggle of her fingers. "Hey."

Alex's smile widened into a grin. "Hey," she greeted back.

They beamed at each other, until they remembered why they were here and the atmosphere turned awkward again. The redhead cleared her throat. "Upstairs?" she suggested.

"Upstairs," Sara agreed, nodding.


"I'm sorry," was the first thing Alex blurted out the moment the door was closed and locked behind them.

Sara blinked. "You're sorry? About what?"

"The kiss," Alex replied, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. "I sprung it on you out of nowhere. I shouldn't have done that."

That caused Sara to blush to divert her eyes. "It's fine," she said, quickly waving Alex's apology off. "I really didn't mind. To be honest, I actually kind of liked it."

Now it was Alex's turn to blink. "Really?" she asked in surprise, trying not sound too pleased.

"Yeah," Sara confirmed, pursing her lips. "But before we talk about that, I need to ask you something, Alex."

"What?"

The younger woman grew even more nervous. "Are you… gay?"

Alex didn't say anything at first, and for a moment Sara was afraid she overstepped her bounds. But then the older woman sighed and gestured for Sara to follow her to the couch. The two settled onto the cushions quickly, and Alex took Sara's hands into her own. For some reason, Sara couldn't find it in herself to pull away. "I am," Alex confessed, confirming Sara's suspicions. "I've tried dating guys before but I've never really been attracted to any of them. And while I've never dated any other women before…"

"…you've been attracted to them," Sara finished.

Her friend nodded. "You remember my former friend, Vicki Donahue? The reason our friendship fell apart is because I developed a crush on her and didn't know how to deal with those feelings. So I pushed Vicki away because it was easier to do."

"I tried not to think about what happened for years, and it was easy because I had college and med school to think about instead. But then I met you, and started spending a lot of time with you. I had more fun with you than I have with anyone else in a long time." She looked away. "I didn't understand why, though, until I met Vicki again and dredged up all those old feelings. That's when I realized I had feelings for you, much like I used to for her."

That… made a lot of sense, to be honest. Alex had been repressing her sexuality for years now. She wouldn't know how to recognize her growing feelings since it had been so long since she had those feelings for anyone at all. No wonder they had eventually overwhelmed her into finally acting on them that fateful winter night.

"Look, Sara, you're not obligated to do anything just because I have feelings for you," Alex insisted. There was some desperation in her eyes. "If you just want us to be friends, that's fine. We can just be friends, and we'll never have to talk about this again. I'm sure my feelings for you will fade in time."

She was trying to be comforting, Sara realized. Her friend wanted to make sure she knew she wasn't beholden to anything. It was… sweet of her, Sara had to admit. And it gave Sara the courage to finally speak from her heart.

"You don't have to do that, Alex," Sara cut in. "Like I said, I enjoyed the kiss. And as for what that says about my own sexuality…"

A sigh escaped the young blonde. "Look. I know for a fact I'm attracted to guys. I've dated and slept with more than my fair share. But as for girls… I honestly don't know. There have been several moments where I've noticed how pretty or sexy another girl was. How attractive they were. I've always tried to tell myself it was because I was jealous of them, but now…" She trailed off, then sighed once more.

"Now?" Alex prompted.

"I don't know. I really don't," Sara admitted. "What I do know is that I really enjoyed kissing you, and I wouldn't mind doing it again." A roguish grin accompanied her statement.

Alex blinked at the unexpected invitation, but soon returned the grin with one of her own. They leaned in and their lips met, and soon Sara found herself melting into the embrace. Now that she was an active participant, Sara found herself more aware of everything that she was feeling. The warmth of Alex's lips, the tingling on her skin, the butterflies in her stomach. All of it in concert, making her feel more alive than she had ever felt.

It was nice. Really, really nice.

Eventually, they had to pull away for air. Alex laced their fingers together and gave Sara a tentative smile. "I guess this is the part where I ask you out on a proper date?"

Sara, panting, lit up. "Yes," she said, a touch cheerful. "Yes, it is."

Notes:

Took me a little bit to get through that fear gas stuff — I do not like writing those "what is your greatest fear" scenes. But, I managed it. And of course, Bruce and Selina are being, well, them.

By contrast, the Sara/Alex stuff was much easier to get through. But then again, it is fluff. Sara isn't quite sure she's bisexual yet (which is expected, considering she's only shared a kiss with Alex thus far), but she's becoming more open to the idea. And of course, she's now dating Alex, which means she's at least attracted to her.

Next Chapter: Laurel meets her unexpected savior.

Chapter 26: Bonds

Summary:

Laurel wakes up, and finds her savior isn't someone she expected to be.

Meanwhile, Sara's blissful relationship comes to a shocking and startling end.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Gotham City

Laurel woke up.

Well, that was a bit of an understatement. Her return to the land of the living was abrupt, sudden. She just snapped her eyes open, sitting up suddenly, barely managing to catch herself before she stumbled off the ratty old couch she was laying on. She grasped away at her heart, feeling it racing as she tried to catch her breath.

"Hey, hey!" an oddly familiar voice exclaimed. "It's alright. You're safe."

She wasn't sure about that. She didn't know where she was, and in her experience that was always the exact opposite of safe. But then a clear glass of water was shoved into her face. "Drink," the voice said. "It's not poisoned, I promise."

Laurel glanced up, and nearly froze in shock. Jason? How did Jason find her? Where was she? What happened? All those questions swirled in her mind, but if there was anything she knew, it was that Jason was safe, and that she could trust him. So she carefully took the glass, and drank.

And just like that, it all started coming back to her. The attack. The woman, who really hadn't been a woman, but Scarecrow. The fear gas. And worst of all — the hallucination. She had known it hadn't been real, but she hadn't been able to accept it. Her last memory was Robert choking her, and then—

"You saved me," Laurel said in awe and gratitude, glancing at the young teenager.

Jason, for his part, rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "It was nothing. I just heard you screaming and stuff. When I saw your red eyes, I knew you had to be suffering from fear gas, and luckily I managed to pick up some extra antidotes today. So I injected you with one of them."

The vigilante blinked. "How did you even get antidotes for fear gas?"

He gave her a strange look. "You really are new in town, aren't you?" Jason surmised, crossing his arms. "Whenever Scarecrow escapes Arkham, Wayne Enterprises always distributes antidotes for his fear gas for free throughout the city. Just in case he's planning another attack, which he usually is. It does a lot to decrease casualties."

That made a lot of sense. Now that Laurel thought about it, Bruce did mention something to that effect when briefing her on Scarecrow and his tactics. She had either forgotten or the fear gas had addled her mind more than she realized.

"Honestly, it wouldn't be necessary if they just locked him up somewhere he couldn't break out of so easily in the first place," her friend noted. "Why they haven't decommissioned Arkham and sent all the inmates somewhere else is beyond me."

"Something tells me if the people who actually care about this city could, they would," Laurel answered, giving the glass back to Jason. She began moving to leave. "Thank you for your help, but I better get back to the others. They're probably worried about me."

"No problem. You Bats are the only thing stopping Gotham from being even more rundown than it already is."

Laurel felt her lips quirk up into a smile. "I'm named after a bird, you know," she pointed out.

Jason waved her off. "So was Nightwing, back when he was Robin," he rebutted. "You run around with Batman — that makes you a Bat."

There was a surety and finality in his words that, for some reason, warmed Laurel's heart. She leaned over and gave him a fond ruffle of his hair, before heading to the window. With a final wave, she jumped out, grappling hook in hand. It was time to get back to work.


It took her a minute to find a solid rooftop, far away from Jason's place. As fond as she was of Jason, Laurel knew better than to compromise operational security around him. Besides, Jason was a Crime Alley native, and while he might have a soft spot for the vigilantes, the vast majority of Park Row did not. She didn't want to bring any trouble down on his head, not after he just saved her life.

Once she was safe, Laurel reactivated her comm link. Almost immediately, she reconnected with a relieved Barbara. "Canary!" Oracle exclaimed. "Are you alright? We've been trying to contact you for two hours! Batman and Nightwing were worried out of their mind!"

"If that's the case, then where are they?" Laurel couldn't help but wonder. It's not that she doubted Bruce and Dick, but if they felt she was in any kind of danger, they would've usually dropped whatever they were doing to find her immediately.

"Occupied. Bruce is dealing with a hostage situation in the Financial District and Dick is dealing with a jumper down in Old Gotham. If it wasn't for the trackers in your suit indicating you were still alive, though, they would've gone after you immediately. I was about to leave to go find you myself."

Oh. Well, that was touching, and Laurel could stop the soft smile that spread across her face. "Thanks for that, O, but I'm fine." She frowned. "Well, not completely. I got ambushed by Scarecrow. He sprayed me with the newest version of fear gas."

Over the line, she heard Oracle hiss. "Dammit. Figures he'd go after you. You manage to inject the antidote into yourself in time?"

"Unfortunately, no. But one of the locals — Jason Todd — managed to find me before I killed myself and inject his own antidote into me. He brought me to his place so I could stay safe until I recovered. I just woke up about thirty minutes or so ago and left after a brief conversation with him."

"He didn't get a look at your face, did he?"

"Nope. The adhesive is still sticking tight."

"Good. I'll keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't blow the whistle on you," her friend vowed.

The Black Canary shook her head. "I don't think you need to worry on that front. I know him from my volunteer work at the community center. He's a good kid."

"Still, it's important to cover your bases. Anyway, return to the Cave so Agent A can check you out. Fear gas is no joke and we need to make sure there aren't any lingering side effects."


In the end, they didn't find anything wrong with her. But Laurel still found herself benched for the next couple of days, for the sake of her mental health more than anything else. "You never forget your first brush with fear gas," Dick had told her, "And it takes time to come to terms with what you experience while under its hallucinogenic effects. Better safe than sorry."

She knew better than to argue. It was clear from their grim expressions that they weren't going to budge, and it made her wonder what exactly they experienced during their own episodes to be so adamant about this. But that was a personal issue, and Laurel knew better than to pry.

Besides, there was something else of more concern that had caught her attention for the time being: Scarecrow's last words before the gas took hold of her.

"The Calculator…" Bruce hummed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "It's the first time anyone has outright confirmed they're working for him. Though Scarecrow isn't someone to give his services away so easily to an outsider."

"Not unless they offer a lot of money," Dick pointed out. "And literally all the Calculator has done thus far since arriving to Gotham is steal money. The real question is why he funded the Scarecrow and ordered him to go after Black Canary."

"Some kind of a grudge, perhaps?" Alfred suggested. "Miss Lance was the first one to foil one of his heists."

"But I'm not the only one doing that," argued Laurel. "I might've been the first one to stop a heist, but you have taken down just as many if not more. If anything, he should've been targeting one of you since you're more experienced."

"Does it really matter in the end?" Barbara interjected in the automized voice of Oracle. "The reality is that the Calculator deliberately funded one of Gotham's most dangerous rogues — arguably the most dangerous now that the Joker is dead. And then he deliberately instructed that rogue to specifically go after one of Gotham's protectors, simply because we are getting in the way of his gravy train. If he's willing to go that far just to get rid of one of us, how far do you think he's willing to go when he realizes the attack failed?"

Too far, was the answer, and it crossed everyone's minds. Did the Calculator realize what kind of target he was painting on his back with his actions? Gotham's very nature meant that attacking one of its protectors was synonymous with attacking the city itself. Batman was one of the only reasons, if not the only reason, the city had not yet been completely torn apart by all its supervillains. For an outsider, perhaps, it was inconceivable to think, but to a native, it was an all too real reality.

"So what do we do, then?" Laurel asked, biting her lip. She glanced towards Bruce, who looked to be deep in thought. "We can't let this stand. If we let him continue as he is, then he'll just keep pushing and pushing just to make sure we stay out of his way."

"We need to take him down, then," Bruce decided, lifting his head. "And soon, before he can make another attempt. But we can't right now — the priority is Scarecrow. As dangerous as the Calculator is, Scarecrow is infinitely worse. We cannot allow him to run amok any longer than he already has."

"So first is Scarecrow…" Dick started.

"…and then the Calculator," Laurel finished.

"Yes."

His two proteges exchanged looks. "Sounds like a plan to me," the younger man said with a grin.


Seattle

I don't think I've ever been so happy.

That was the first thought that crossed Sara Lance's mind as she slowly opened her eyes to face the morning rays of sunlight. It was so bright that it hurt, and for a moment Sara was tempted to just go back to sleep so she wouldn't have the face the day just yet. The warmth at her back and the arms entwined around her waist made it even more enticing.

But, unfortunately, she couldn't. It was Monday morning, which meant they had to get ready for class. So, reluctantly, Sara propped herself up on her elbows and gave out a loud yawn. A groan answered her, and she smiled in fond amusement. "Sorry, babe, but we gotta get up."

"Five more minutes, Sara," Alex begged, eyes still closed. She blindly reached out for her girlfriend's hand, trying to tug her back to bed. "Please?"

"I'd love to, Alex, but we still got class to go to. And worse than that — we've got lab."

That just made Alex groan even louder. Sara laughed.


I think I could get used to this, Sara thought, as Alex and her started breakfast. Before she met Alex, she had been something of a hopeless cook, much like her sister. Dad's cooking talent, unfortunately, had not passed down to either of his daughters. But after meeting her girlfriend, she had begun to pick up some things mostly in the pursuit of helping Alex make dinner. She wasn't completely useless now and could probably feed herself provided she was given enough instruction.

Really, though, what she enjoyed most about it was spending time with Alex. Sara had never felt like this before, so happy and carefree, not since before her sister's death. Alex made her feel so warm and bubbly inside and every time she shot a smile her way, Sara's toes curled and her stomach did flips — the good kind. She never wanted them to be apart.

It made her more confident in her sexuality, too. She could confirm that she was very much attracted to Alex thanks to the nights they had started spending together. And now, whenever they went out, she could find herself checking out both men and women (even if she obviously never acted on it). Talking it over with her girlfriend, Sara had come to the conclusion she was bisexual.

Coming to terms with that realization had been helpful, though she was now struggling how she was going to tell everyone when it was time to reveal her relationship with Alex. She was strong in her faith of her parents' love for her and her friendships with Ollie and Tommy and their families, but still, she couldn't help but worry about their reaction when they found out. It was something Alex could relate to; apparently, she didn't know how to tell her parents that she herself was a lesbian, now that she had the courage to completely accept it.

Maybe we should tell them together? It was an idea, something she would have to talk with Alex about later. Instead, she helped Alex finish breakfast, and once they were done eating, they were out the door. It was time to get back to the grind.


Hours later, after all their classes were over, Alex got a call from her parents. Or rather, from her mother. Sara didn't think anything of it at first, instead organizing their flashcards for another run through, until Alex's sharp, afraid, "What?" caught her attention.

"Babe?"

Alex didn't hear her. "No," she said instead, eyes blown wide and afraid. Tears were beginning to gather, much to Sara's alarm. "It can't be true, he can't be…" she trailed off, and then painful, heartwrenching sob escaped her.

Sara dropped the flashcards immediately and went to her girlfriend, gathering her into her arms. Alex held onto her as she wept, the phone dropping from her hands as she buried her face into the crook of Sara's neck. Sara desperately wanted to ask her what was wrong, but the way Alex was now, she doubted she would get an answer anytime soon. Instead, she went and picked up the phone, swallowing when she saw the caller ID: Mom.

She had met Eliza Danvers a few months ago during a short visit from the other woman to her daughter while she was in town for some sort of conference. It had been before Alex and her had started dating, so Mrs. Danvers had only known her as Alex's friend. Would she find it strange if Sara picked up the call in the place of her daughter?

Finally, after a moment's indecision, Sara picked up the phone from the coffee table, placing it next to her ear. "Hello? Mrs. Danvers?"

"Who is this?" Mrs. Danvers demanded. There was a hoarseness to her voice that suggested she had been crying too.

"It's Sara. Sara Lance. You know, your daughter's friend from medical school? Alex and I were studying together tonight when you called. Do you know why she's crying now?"

There was a brief period of silence. And then, "It's my husband, Jeremiah Danvers. Alex's father," she explained with a sigh. "There was an accident, and…"

Oh. For a brief moment, Sara's mind flashed back to that day, that terrible day four years ago when she had learned the Gambit had gone down, and felt herself begin to choke up. "He's gone, isn't he?"

"…Yes."

"I see." Sara looked down, shifting the still-sobbing Alex into a more comfortable position. She knew, perhaps more than anyone else, what Alex had to be feeling right now. That indescribable feeling of loss and sorrow and regret — there was nothing worse in the world than that. "I don't think Alex is going to be able to talk to you anymore tonight. Once she calms down, I'll make sure she calls you back later. Is that alright?"

"That's fine," Eliza told her. There was an audible gulp, and then a certain weariness as she spoke again. "I'm glad Alex has a friend like you, Sara."

"Trust me, Mrs. Danvers. I'm the lucky one."

They exchanged a few more words before Sara finally hung up the call. She set Alex's phone back on the coffee table before pulling up her girlfriend into a tighter hug. "I'm sorry, Alex," she told her. "I'm so, so sorry."

Alex didn't say anything in response. She just clung to Sara, and cried harder.


Alex was inconsolable for the rest of the week. She quickly filed a sabbatical from the school for her classes, though she still urged Sara to keep going to hers. "You've worked too hard for this, Sara," she had said. "You shouldn't be left behind just because of my problems."

Sara wouldn't exactly call her girlfriend's dad dying a "problem", but nonetheless complied with Alex's wishes. She did, however, make sure to stay with Alex as much as she could, going as far as to explain what was going on to Ollie, Tommy, and her parents. While they still didn't know Alex and her were dating, they were aware of how close the two of them had gotten ever since she had started medical school and had no issues with her staying over to help her get through this difficult time.

Eventually, Alex left for Midvale to help her mother with the funeral. Sara had offered to go with her for that as well, but Alex had once more refused, insisting that Sara focus on herself first. This time, Sara had protested, and the two of them got into the first real argument since they started dating. Eventually she had conceded because Alex was right, she couldn't neglect her classes; medical school was hard enough as it was and getting behind would only cause trouble down the line. But nonetheless, she had made Alex promise to keep contact with her while she was gone.

In the end, her girlfriend had ended up gone for an entire month. Sara had done her best to focus on her studies, but it was hard knowing that Alex was on the other side of the country, mourning the death of one of her parents. She knew better than anyone how painful and all-consuming grief could be, and if it hadn't been for her parents, who knew where Sara would be right now. Certainly not in medical school, training to be a doctor.

Would Alex be alright?

The answer came when the older woman returned, one month after the news came. Sara had met her at the airport, helped drive her to her apartment and set herself back up. But throughout it all, Alex had been removed, distant. The grief over her father's death had not faded, and if it was anything like Sara's own grief over Laurel, it never really would. Just become a muted, distant thing that Alex would have to learn to live with for the rest of her life.

Then, just as she was about to leave for her own home, Alex told her that she wanted them to break up.


"But why!" Sara had cried once she realized Alex was serious.

"I'm leaving Seattle," Alex confessed. "My mom — she's struggling to keep our old home afloat now that dad's gone. She's told me not to worry, but I'm going back anyway to help her."

Sara swallowed. "But what about medical school? What about becoming a bio-engineer?" That had been Alex's dream since she was a kid. There was no way she could give it up now; that was something that Sara was sure Jeremiah Danvers wouldn't have wanted if his widow didn't, and she knew that was something Alex didn't want either.

"I'm transferring to another medical school near Midvale. I've already informed the office and started the paperwork. It's already done, Sara," Alex told her. She looked to be ready to start crying herself. "And as much as I want to be with you, I don't think a long-distance relationship would work. You and I both know that you're never going to leave Starling behind."

"Alex, I love you," the younger woman told her, tears in her eyes.

"And I love you too, Sara. Trust me, this is the last thing in the world I want to do. If I had it my way, if things had gone as planned, I'd… move with you, to Starling. But my mom needs me. And it's better for us to make a clean break now than try to prolong our relationship and delay the inevitable."

That just made Sara cry harder. "You don't even want to try?"

"Sara—"

"No, no!" Sara shook her head, grabbed her bag, and ran out the door. She couldn't be here anymore, with Alex, knowing that it was over. She could see it in the other woman's eyes — she wasn't going to budge, no matter how much Sara begged and pleaded with her. And that realization hurt more than anything else Sara could bear to think about right now.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. Sara practically dived into her car and turned on the ignition, and drove away. She wasn't quite sure where she was going, as long as it was far away from here.

Notes:

It actually says a lot that even with a bout of fear gas, Laurel is the one having the easier year. But man, Sara's break up with Alex nearly got me crying. Losing your first love is never easy.

We've got one or two chapters left before this year is over, and then we move to Year 5. That's the one I'm looking forward to the most, both because it's the last year before Laurel returns home, but also because it helps set up some elements for the story that will be important later on for S2 and S3. I think you'll enjoy it.

Next Chapter: Laurel works to bring down the Calculator.

Chapter 27: The Calculator

Summary:

Laurel and the rest of the Bats try to track down the Calculator.

Notes:

Posting this slightly later than usual due to the holiday weekend. Got today and tomorrow off, thankfully.

Also, I passed my certification exam! Hurray!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Gotham City

All in all, it was surprisingly easy to find Scarecrow once they had the location of Laurel's encounter with him. The man had opted for a base in one of the more derelict sections of the Narrows, not far from where Laurel was patrolling. Bruce speculated that it was deliberate, as it would allow him to observe Black Canary and her habits and devise a sufficient scenario where he could catch her off-guard.

It was in the middle of the night when they hit the place, guns-a-blazing and with gas masks on to filter out the fear gas. Scarecrow had been prepared for them, of course, already having several thugs under his employ with heavy artillery ready to defend his work. Unfortunately, this time Laurel was prepared as well, and she didn't hesitate to take them out with a well-placed Canary Cry. All of them were blasted back, hitting the wall and knocking them out in short order.

By the time she was done, Bruce and Dick had already taken down Scarecrow between the two of them. The man had been too shocked about her ability and had been easily caught off guard by the Dynamic Duo. Within minutes, they had him and his men tied up and prepped for the police.

"Do you know where the Calculator is?" Batman demanded as soon as Crane was roped up.

Scarecrow, still a little stunned, shook his head. "He was very careful when conducting business with me. All intermediaries, any direct conversation made with a modulator, dead drops, and untraceable wiring when it came to delivering my funding."

Nightwing raised an eyebrow. "Surprised you're selling him out so easily like this."

The rogue shrugged. "He is an outsider. No matter how great our rapport was, I owe him no loyalty."

"Oh?" Black Canary said as she came up from behind her two teammates, standing side-by-side with them as she faced the man who would be responsible for her nightmares worsening the next few weeks. "If that's the case, mind giving us any other useful information about him so we can find him?"

Instead of answering, Crane leered up at her instead. "And just why should I do that?"

Laurel gave him a small, playful smile… and then stomped down on his balls with all her might. The supervillain let out a pained shriek and collapsed to his side as Batman and Nightwing winced in male solidarity. Their female partner ignored them both and instead leaned down to speak to Scarecrow more directly. "That enough of an answer for you?"

The man glanced up at her with a bit of fear in his eyes. "She really is one of yours," he declared to Batman.

"I'm losing my patience," Laurel added, mentally rolling her eyes. She kicked Crane to the side for good measure.

"Wait, wait! The supervirus he's using to crack open the banks, I know what it is!"

"Really?" The rookie vigilante grinned. "Mind giving us a name?"

Crane whimpered.


"The x-axis bi-numeric algorithm," Barbara whistled as the rest of the Bats congregated behind her in the Clocktower. "That is one nasty piece of work right here."

"I take it you've heard of it?" Bruce asked.

The information broker nodded. "Around two years ago, Cooper Seldon, a hacktivist at MIT, created it and tried to use it to access the servers of the Department of Education so he could wipe out all student loans. He was caught, arrested, and sent to jail. Officially, he committed suicide during his imprisonment; unofficially, the NSA faked his death so they could recruit him as one of their indentured techies."

Laurel frowned. "Do we want to know how you know all this?"

"Probably not," Barbara admitted, pushing her glasses back as she began typing away at her computer. "Regardless, I know how the virus works, and I think I can use it to backtrace it to its origin, and thus the Calculator's location. The only issue is I need to be on the server before he infects it with the virus to properly trace the point of origin."

"Which means we need to predict the next bank the Calculator is going to hit," Dick concluded. "That will be… tricky."

That was putting it mildly. The Calculator had hit up several banks already and had only increased the frequency of his heists. Four crews a night, all hitting simultaneously, ensuring that at least one of them got away before the vigilantes could stop them. Seeing as he had gone out of the way to take out Laurel, that insinuated that he was still planning to stay in Gotham for a good while, but for how long, they couldn't say.

"We need more information," Laurel decided. "I think I know a way to figure out when and where the Calculator is going to hit next, though."

"How so?"


Laurel, as "Myra Kallen", was all smiles as she entered the Park Row Community Center. She had been volunteering less often due to her "new job", but had made an effort to visit at least once a week just to keep up with everyone. This was going to be her visit for this week, and she had a specific person in mind that she wanted to see.

Jason had a habit of coming to the community center occasionally to play some basketball and pick up books from the center's small library. Always in the afternoon, though which days were irregular. Laurel was banking on him being here today; Jason had been the one to inform her about the heists in the first place, after all. Perhaps, if she was lucky, he would know more — like where the Calculator was going to hit next.

Sure enough, Jason was sitting at one of the library tables, reading through an old beaten copy of Pride and Prejudice. One of the surprising things she had learned about her young friend over the last few months is that he was a great lover of Jane Austen and Shakespeare. She would have to introduce him to Alfred one of these days — Laurel had a feeling the two of them would get along splendidly.

"Hey, Jay," she greeted him, pulling out one of the chairs on the other side of the table so she could sit across from him. "Pride and Prejudice again? Is Mr. Darcy really that charming?"

Jason, to her amusement, openly scowled up at her, looking highly offended on Mr. Darcy's behalf. "Mr. Darcy is amazing," he declared. "How you can ever doubt him is beyond me."

"Well, I don't know him quite as well as you do," Laurel pointed out, smiling lightly.

The teenager pouted. "You would if you just read the book again. When's the last time you read a good novel, Myra?"

Too long, truth be told. Laurel used to enjoy a good book as much as anyone, but her life had been consumed with preparing for law school in the last year before the Gambit. Then came the shipwreck and the last thing Laurel had to concern herself with was reading books. It wasn't until she had effectively moved to Gotham that she had any access to any recreational reading, and even then she didn't have enough leisure time to seriously consider finding something to devour. Bruce was enough of a taskmaster on his own.

"Maybe some other time, Jay," Laurel told him, plastering on her best smile. "Anyway, there's something I need to talk to you about. Something private. Mind coming with me outside so we can speak?"

Something in Jason's expression shifted, and there was now an odd glint in his eyes. Nonetheless, he nodded, bagging his newly-checked out book and following Laurel outside the library and out of the community center. They found a small, private alley where they wouldn't be overheard, and it was there that Laurel started her spiel.

"So, the bank where I deposit was hit by one of the Calculator's heists. Nothing was stolen, but I'm a bit iffy about the security—"

She was cut off by Jason sighing, lifting his hand in a silent plea to stop. "Myra, we're friends, right?"

Surprised, Laurel slowly nodded.

"If that's the case, then can you cut the bullshit?" the Gotham native stated bluntly, causing her to blink.

"Jason—"

"Stop. I know you're her."

The vigilante froze but recovered quickly. "Who, Jason?" she asked, trying to inject some confusion into her voice.

Jason's expression, if anything, grew flatter. "I mean the woman I saved a few days ago. The one who I had to save from choking herself to death after being doused with fear gas."

"Wow, Jason, you saved someone—"

"Myra."

Dammit. He's not going to budge. Finally realizing the jig was up, Laurel sighed and crossed her arms. "How'd you figure it out?" she asked, no longer putting up a front.

"I didn't remove the mask, if you're wondering. But your facial structure is the same, and it's not like you did much to hide your voice. Combined with the fact that BC is a newbie in Gotham…" Jason shrugged. "Easy to connect for those who know you."

"Well, you've just given me a lot of ideas on how to better disguise myself," Laurel said dryly. "Like investing in a voice modulator."

"Good luck with that. So, why do you need to know where the Calculator is going to hit next?"

Grateful for the change in subject, Laurel answered him. "We think we have a way to track him down to his physical location. But it requires us to know which bank he's planning on robbing next. I was hoping you would have some idea where."

"I do," Jason claimed. "Word going around the street is that the Calculator plans on hitting the holy grail of all the banks in Gotham and is recruiting aggressively to prepare for that."

"The holy grail?"

"Gotham City National Bank," he clarified. "It's the biggest bank in the city, and by far the most secure. Even with whatever the hell he's been using to crack open their security systems, he's going to need a strong crew to deal with everything else the bank has got up its sleeve."

Figures. At least that meant there would be less street crime for the foreseeable future. "Thanks, Jason," Laurel said in gratitude. She tilted her head, taking on a slightly worried expression. "You're going to keep quiet about me being… you know, right?"

Her friend smirked. "'Course I am. You've been good to me in the time we've known each other, and like I told you the other night — the Bats are the only ones who keep Gotham from going to the pits. It would be in poor taste for me to out you now."

Laurel found herself blinking again at his response, before smiling wildly. Before she knew it, she was pulling Jason into a fierce hug. "You're the best, Jay."

"Don't mention it, Myra," he replied, blushing.


A plan was formed after Laurel relayed Jason's information to the rest of the team. They would do a two-prong attack: Nightwing on one team, Batman and Black Canary on the other. When the Calculator's crew attacked the bank, Nightwing would be the one to respond to the call for help while Batman and Black Canary waited in reserve as Oracle traced the virus. Once Oracle had a location, they would go and capture the Calculator and finally end his crimes.

It was a simple but effective plan, designed as much to make sure their enemy wouldn't get suspicious. Bruce had told Laurel that usually, simple plans were for the best; complex schemes might be more effective in certain situations, but they required a level of attentiveness and luck that a vigilante couldn't offer most of the time. Ultimately, it was better to have a simple plan to follow that could be easily adjusted at a moment's notice for any unexpected factors.

The following night, just like clockwork, the Calculator used the x-axis bi-numeric algorithm to hack the main servers of the security system of Gotham City National Bank. Oracle was already waiting in the wings and discreetly trying to backtrace him, while Nightwing, having been deliberately assigned a patrol route in the area, responded to the distress call. Both Batman and Black Canary stopped their patrolling and instead prepared to leave for the Calculator's secret base.

Finally, Barbara gave them a name. "Amusement Mile," she said grimly.

Laurel frowned as she turned on the ignition of her motorcycle. "The old amusement park? Why there?"

"It used to be one of the primary hideouts of the Joker," Bruce explained as he did the same for the Batmobile. "It was completely abandoned after Harley Quinn and he were killed by Ra's all those months ago. Normally, supervillains have no issues appropriating another's hideouts once that villain is dead, but even the worst of our current rogues want to forget he ever existed. That makes it the perfect hideout for an outsider like the Calculator — he wouldn't understand or care about the taboo."

She couldn't help but flinch when she heard the Joker's name. Even though she knew the man was gone, never to return, her brief encounter with him and his partner still sent chills down her spine. What little she had read up on their files before chickening out had only reinforced that fear — no doubt, their deaths were one of the few times where Ra's was fully justified in taking another's life.

"Let's go," Bruce grunted over the comms. "We better get there before he realizes something is wrong."


By the time Laurel arrived at Amusement Mile, Bruce was already there and engaging several of the Calculator's guards. She had quickly parked her motorcycle and rushed to join him, only to stop when he told her not to. "He's in the comms tower!" he shouted at her, gesturing up at the aforementioned tower. "I'll distract them — you go after him!"

The Black Canary nodded and turned in the other direction, heading directly to the tower. It wasn't far, but when Laurel made it to the door, she was attacked by a sword before she could jimmy the lock open. She jumped backward into a roll, drawing her quarterstaff as she faced her new opponent.

It was a man wearing gray-white armor with some kind of hood and face mask. He had a sword drawn out in a stance that, for some reason, tugged at Laurel's instincts. She tensed as she prepared herself for battle. "Who are you?"

"Just call me Orphan," he answered, "And you are the Black Canary. My current employer wasn't happy when he found out you survived Scarecrow's attempt on your life."

"Well, sucks for him," Laurel shot back, before attacking.

Orphan blocked her initial blow with ease, deflecting it aside. Laurel had to duck to dodge another swing before trying to kick out his legs, causing him to swiftly jump back to avoid it. The two began a deadly dance of clashing metal, and it wasn't long before Laurel realized what it was about Orphan's technique that was nagging at her. "You're former League, aren't you?"

Her opponent's eyes darkened, and his swings grew more furious. She felt herself struggling to block these blows, even as she continued to speak. "Touched a nerve, haven't I? I take it you didn't leave the League on good terms, did you?"

"Neither did you, I presume," Orphan growled as he locked his sword against her quarterstaff. "Did you think I wouldn't notice you are former League as well? What did you do to cause yourself to be cast out completely? The master would never allow you to live long enough to side with Batman otherwise."

"Oh, that's easy," Laurel answered. "I saved the League."

There was a shift, and then a stillness. Clearly, he hadn't expected to hear that. Laurel found that she didn't care, and quickly used the opening to disarm Orphan of his sword. He stumbled back as the weapon went flying in another direction, but quickly recovered and charged at Laurel with his fists instead. Laurel smirked and sheathed her quarterstaff as she re-engaged him, her fists held high.

While she was an expert with the weapons she had been taught to use over the past few years, Laurel found that she preferred hand-to-hand combat more than anything else. That wasn't always practical, which is why she had a quarterstaff and other hidden weapons on her, but whenever offered the chance to beat someone's face in with her fists, Laurel took it with glee.

As expected of a former member of the League, Orphan was no slouch when it came to hand-to-hand. On the contrary, she would hazard to say he was as good as Al-Owal if not better, and usually something like that would intimidate her. But Laurel had been training with Bruce and Dick for months in addition to all the training she received with the League, and she knew Al-Owal's style like the back of her hand. It was easier to figure out Orphan's tells and take advantage of them.

Finally, after several minutes of frustration at being unable to pierce through her guard, Orphan lashed out at her with a wild haymaker. Laurel smirked and grabbed his arm, giving it a harsh, arm-breaking twist. He shrieked in pain as he fell to his knees, before letting out a loud 'oof' as Laurel kicked him in the chest, stretching out his arm while pushing back his neck with her foot in an effective and unorthodox chokehold. "Yield," she commanded.

Orphan stared up at her with something akin to respect and horror. "You're just like her," he whispered.

Laurel didn't bother responding to that, instead kneeing him in the chin, effectively knocking him out. She took out her zip ties and tied him up, before getting up to head to the tower — only to find herself face-to-face with a stoic Bruce. She blinked. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not very long," her mentor answered honestly, lifting an unconscious graying middle-aged man. "I had to capture the Calculator first."

"Huh," Laurel said, glancing down at the unconscious Orphan. "That fight took a lot longer than I thought it did."

Bruce grunted. "Something we need to work on then. You need to be aware of how much time has elapsed constantly for time-sensitive tasks."

Seriously? The Black Canary shook her head. "Never change, Batman. Never change."


An hour later, they were watching the Calculator being taken into custody by the GCPD. Jim Gordon himself was present to handle the arrest, having been tipped off by Nightwing about the situation while handling the recent attack at the Gotham City National Bank. "Good work, Batman, Black Canary," he said as they watched the Calculator be cuffed and pushed into a police cruiser. He glanced up at the night sky, where there were a bunch of news helicopters beginning to gather. "You better get out of here soon, though. Don't want the media catching sight of you."

"Thanks, Commissioner," Batman told him, before heading to where he had parked the Batmobile. Black Canary gave the older man a similar nod of acknowledgment before moving to do the same with her motorcycle.

Before she could, however, something caught her eye. Orphan, who had been restrained and directed to a different police cruiser from his former employer, had managed to free himself from the police escorting him and somehow slip his cuffs. With his working hand, he drew out his sidearm and aimed it directly at Black Canary — and by extension, Barbara's father as well.

"Look out!" Laurel shouted, reacting on instinct. She sprinted forward and pushed Gordon out of the way, ducking beneath the bullet to release a low-pitched Canary Cry that was almost invisible to the eye. The attack struck Orphan's legs, causing him to fall backward with a groan, allowing Laurel to pounce on him and smack his head face-first with the concrete, solidly knocking him out.

Laurel panted as she recovered her breath from those shocking few minutes, only still when she noticed the light on the ground surrounding her. She immediately snapped her head upwards to notice one of the news crews in the helicopters had shined down their spotlight on her, likely capturing the entire confrontation on tape. Shit.

There was no other option. Laurel got up from Orphan's unconscious body and ran towards her motorcycle, trying to outpace the chasing spotlight and failing badly. The last shot anyone had of her was getting on her bike and speeding away from Amusement Mile, as fast as the wheels could carry her.

Notes:

The Gotham stuff was fun, though not easy to write. I think part of it is because the Calculator isn't a strong villain to write with and didn't have a strong presence in the story. Then again, he's only a vehicle for some of the more important developments, namely this one — the Black Canary being caught on tape, on live television. This has major ramifications for Laurel's fifth year, and indeed, for this story in general.

As for Orphan, he's important too, though how I'll keep mum for now. I will say, this though — if you read the comics, namely the Batman mythos, you probably already know who Orphan is and why he's important. I'm not sure if he's going to appear again later, but his confrontation with Laurel will have an impact on her path as well.

And of course, Jason takes on the next step to his own destiny as a vigilante. That should be fun.

Next Chapter: Laurel learns of her newfound fame, while Sara seeks solace for her impending breakup with Alex.

Chapter 28: Friends

Summary:

Laurel learns of the Black Canary's new fame.

Sara visits Oliver and Tommy for comfort.

Notes:

Pre-Chapter Note: There is another, much shorter chapter that will be posted tomorrow morning. This chapter will conclude Year Four, and we will move to Year Five next week.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"First, thank you for saving my dad," was the first thing Barbara told her the moment she arrived at the Bat-Cave with Bruce. Side-by-side with the information broker was Dick, who had his mask off, and Alfred, who already had food and medical supplies prepared. "Secondly, we have a problem."

She gestured to the massive screen of the Bat-Computer, where multiple live news feeds were playing. Laurel swallowed as she watched every one of them replay her epic save of Gordon, each with varying headlines speculating who she was and why she was present at the scene of the arrest of a cyberterrorist. "Word is coming in about officially crediting the defeat and capture of the Calculator to you, Laurel," Barbara continued.

"How widespread is the video?" the young vigilante asked instead.

"It's on the national news," Dick answered, giving her a mirthless grin. "Congratulations, BC — you're famous."

Nobody laughed. "I can't stay, can I?" Laurel said instead. It was a statement more than a question.

Part of the reason why Bruce had been able to keep his identity a secret for so long from the public was because, as far as those outside of Gotham knew, he was a myth. Nobody was certain he even existed, which made it all too easy to dismiss the idea of some irresponsible playboy being a terrifying vigilante. For those within Gotham, the truth was far harder to hide, but even then, they knew better than to spread it around beyond some local Internet sites.

Laurel had planned the same for Black Canary. It would've been easier for her to separate her true identity from her vigilante one for when she finally returned to Starling. But with this — there was no way they would be able to cover up Black Canary's existence. The GCPD would be legally required to make a report about her involvement in the Calculator's capture and arrest and put out a statement to satiate the news. Any hopes of anonymity were now gone, all because Orphan had to be petty and get one last shot in. Wonderful, just wonderful.

"People will be searching for you in Gotham," Bruce noted, scowling up at the screen. "The longer you stay, the more danger you'll be in as the likelihood of discovering your secret identity increases."

That, if anything, caused Laurel's mood to darken even more. "We knew I was going to leave eventually, but not so soon," she lamented. "There's still so much I need to learn."

"There is," her mentor agreed. "But, I think this serves as something of an opportunity for you."

This caught everyone by surprise. "What do you mean, Bruce?" Dick questioned, moving away from the Bat-Computer to stand a little bit closer to his two teammates.

Bruce crossed his arms. "Our ultimate goal when it comes to Laurel's departure is to ensure that Black Canary's identity cannot be connected to Myra Kallen, and, above all else, Dinah Laurel Lance. Which means we need obfuscate things so it is impossible to connect the three."

"I presume you have some idea in mind, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I do. A road trip."

There was a collective blink. "A road trip?" Barbara voiced the question, speaking on behalf of the rest of the team.

"Yes. My suggestion is that Laurel becomes a wandering vigilante of sorts," the older vigilante elaborated. "She can travel the country stopping crime of all sorts while keeping herself in the wind, always one step ahead of the authorities."

He turned to his student. "It'll allow you to gather more experience as a vigilante, along with further divorcing your multiple identities from each other, considering our plan was to return you to Lian Yu and have you rescued from there after a few months to sell the castaway story. Nobody is going to believe the Black Canary is a girl who has been stuck on an island for five years, trying to survive."

"True," Laurel agreed with another sigh. "It's probably for the best, though I hate I have to leave you guys like this. I was enjoying my time here in Gotham with all of you."

That prompted similar sentiments to come from the rest of the team, something that warmed her heart. Laurel was glad to know that if, for some godforsaken reason, Starling didn't work out, she had another home waiting for her here. Because that was what Gotham was starting to become: home.

Maybe it was a good thing this had happened. If she had stayed as she had planned, it would've made leaving for Starling all the harder later down the line. This was probably for the best. She would be getting some solo experience, and Bruce and Dick would have an easier time adjusting to no longer having a third member in the field with them.

And just like that, an imaginary light bulb appeared over Laurel's head. An idea, something that had been percolating for a while, had made itself known. Something that would make her departure a little smoother for everyone. Would they all agree to it, though?

Well, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Everyone," she started, cutting through all the well-wishes. "There's something I want to do before I go. I was wondering if you'd be okay with it."

Bruce frowned. "And what might that be?"

Laurel smiled sheepishly.


Starling City

After she escaped from Alex's apartment, Sara drove for hours as she waited for her tears to stop. By the time she was in a state of mind to talk to anyone about what happened, it was already nighttime. Resisting the urge to curse, she parked her car in the parking lot of a nearby convenience store and took out her cell phone from her bag.

Sara had put her phone on mute so she wouldn't be distracted from the road, and was severely starting to regret it. She had gotten several missed calls and texts from both her parents and Alex. Sighing, she quickly dismissed all the alerts from the latter — she wasn't anywhere close to talking with Alex again right now — before making a quick phone call to her dad.

The moment he picked up the call, Sara immediately regretted the decision. "SARA!" Quentin all but shouted, causing the younger Lance to wince. "Where are you, honey? Your mother and I have been trying to contact you for hours."

"Sorry, Dad," she quickly apologized. "I wasn't ready to go home yet. Something happened and I… I went on a drive. I needed to clear my head."

There was a brief pause over the line. "Baby, is everything alright?" he asked again, this time much more softly. "You know you can talk to us about anything."

Sara swallowed. "I know, Dad. And it's nothing bad — at least, not life-threatening. It's just something I need to have to come to terms with on my own first."

"…alright, Sara. If you're sure. When you will be coming home?"

"Tomorrow morning," she blurted out before she could honestly think about it. "I need to visit Tommy's. He and Ollie are hanging out together at his new apartment, and I need to speak with both of them."

And now that she had said it, she realized that was what she wanted to do. She wasn't sure she could talk with her parents about this, especially since it meant revealing to them her newfound sexuality. But her two best friends were a different matter — she was sure neither of them would mind learning about her having a girlfriend, and maybe they would have some advice on how to deal with the bombshell Alex had dropped on her. Her parents probably would too, but to be honest, Sara felt more comfortable talking with Ollie and Tommy when it came to matters of love.

With a new destination in mind, Sara turned back on the ignition of her car. Next stop: downtown Starling.


Tommy had elected to move out of the Merlyn Mansion after one too many arguments with his asshole dad. It seemed the recent incident at his last birthday party had ruined the ongoing detente they had for the last several years ever since Tommy entered the rebellious teenager stage and Malcolm and he started bickering more. Sara didn't know how many times Tommy had shown up at either the Queen Mansion or her own house to crash just because he didn't want to breathe in the same space as his dad.

His new apartment was a luxurious penthouse in one of the nicer high-rises in the downtown part of the city. Because of course, Tommy Merlyn always had to be at the center of Starling City's vibrant nightlife. It helped that this happened to be the least crime-ridden part of the city, and the security was top-notch. Tommy had always been a bit iffy about that, ever since his mother died in the Glades.

When her best friend had moved into his new home, he had issued passes for Oliver and herself so they could come up to his apartment at any time without having to deal with the security desk. A gesture of absolute trust, and a welcome one, because it allowed her to go upstairs without having to deal with anyone else. She wasn't really ready to talk, even to a stranger, until she met with her friends.

Eventually, the elevator arrived at the front of the penthouse. Sara got out in a rush, frantically pushing the doorbell button one too many times. After a minute or so, the door opened to reveal a scowling Oliver, with Tommy right at his heels.

"Who—Sara?" His dark expression immediately turned into one of concern as he took in Sara's bedraggled appearance. "What happened?"

Sara opened her mouth to answer, only for a sob to escape instead.


Within the next half-hour, Sara had been allowed to clean up in Tommy's bathroom and was now bundled up with blankets and hot chocolate on her friend's stupidly long sectional couch, the tried and true method of comfort in their small social circle. Neither Ollie nor Tommy had pressed her about what happened to her since she had first arrived at the apartment, instead wordlessly doing their best to get her to relax so she could talk to them properly. Once Sara was settled on the couch, a comfortable silence fell between the three of them as they sipped their hot chocolate.

"I'm bisexual."

Under normal circumstances, Sara would've found it amusing watching her friends choke on their drinks in shock, but right now she was cursing herself for her loose lips. Why did she have to blurt it out like that? Couldn't have there been a way to ease it in for them?

"Okay, that was… unexpected," Tommy stated once he had recovered.

"You're okay with that, right?" Sara nervously asked.

Both of them looked offended at the question. "Sara, seriously?" Ollie asked, frowning. "I know we can both be shallow at times, but we're not that shallow. You're our friend. You've been our friend ever since you moved to Starling. Why would either of us care about something like that?"

Relieved, Sara felt herself relax immediately. "Thanks, guys. I've been scared about coming out ever since I've come to terms with it. I mean, I haven't even told Mom and Dad."

"Your parents won't care, Sara," Tommy told her. "Unlike my dad, they're good people who love you."

"And if Laurel were here, I know for certain she wouldn't have cared either," Ollie added. "You know how protective of you she could be."

That was true. For all they fought about stupid sibling stuff, Laurel was always there for her when it mattered. Sara was always just too blinded by her issues to realize that until it was too late.

"All this being said, why is this coming out now?"

Sara swallowed. "It's because I needed to talk to you guys about something. I… just broke up with my girlfriend."

Both men blinked, and it was Ollie who figured it out first. "Alex," he concluded, causing Sara to nod in confirmation.

"Wait, Alex is…" Tommy trailed off, his face changing several different expressions at once.

"Gay, yes," Sara confirmed, watching his face turn an interesting shade of red. Probably remembering his futile attempts to flirt with Alex when they first met. "We first kissed back in winter, right before Alex flew home for Christmas. There… might have been mistletoe involved."

"Of course there was," Ollie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose while Tommy snickered.

Sara ignored both of them and continued speaking. "After she came back, we talked about it, and realized we had feelings for each other, so we started dating. It was going really well for a while, but then…"

"Alex's dad died," finished Ollie. She had told both of them about the situation to explain why she had been house-sitting for Alex.

"Yeah. You know what happened — she took a sabbatical from med school, left for the funeral, and she just came back today. Except, it turned out she's only coming back to officially pull out from Washington and transfer to a new med school near Midvale. She's moving back home to help out her mom." Sara looked down. "And she wants to break up. Says that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work out for either of us."

Neither Ollie nor Tommy had anything to say to that. They just exchanged helpless looks.

"Guys, I love her," Sara said, feeling just about ready to weep again as she clutched her cup of hot chocolate harder. "And she loves me, she even said it herself. But even with all that, she's not willing to fight for our relationship like I am, and I don't know why. Am I not enough?"

"Sara, no," Tommy said, setting down his hot chocolate on the coffee table to go to his friend. "God no. You're more than enough for anyone that would be lucky to have you in their life. If Alex is going to let you go just because she believes that you two can't make your relationship work when you're on different sides of the country, that's her loss, not yours."

"Tommy's right, Sara," Ollie added. "None of this is on you."

"But if that's the case, then why is it happening anyway? I love her, I don't want to let her go like this." If Sara had it her way, they'd be together for as long as possible. Nobody had ever come close to making her feel the way Alex did, had ever made her feel so happy. And for a while, she thought she was making Alex feel the same way. So why…?

Ollie frowned and sighed again. "I don't know, Sara. The only person who can tell you that is Alex. What I can tell you is that if Alex doesn't want to stay in the relationship anymore, then you can't make her. You need to let her go."

That was true too. Sara had known that from the very moment, Alex told her that she wanted to break up. It was why she was here now — she was hoping, futilely, that her friends would know some way to delay it, or even stop it altogether, even though she knew they didn't.

Alex wasn't leaving her because she didn't love her. She had said so herself. No, she was leaving because she felt taking care of her mother was more important than her burgeoning relationship with Sara. And while Sara could respect that and understand it… "It hurts, though." And there were the tears again. "It hurts so much."

"I know, Sara," Ollie told her, reaching out to take her hand with a reflection of her pain in his eyes. Remembering Laurel, no doubt, just made Sara hurt even more. "I know better than anyone what you're feeling right now. Nothing hurts more than a lost love. But this isn't the end. You're still here, and like you told me once, you can find love again when you're ready. And until you are, I promise we'll be with you every step of the way."

"Yeah, Sara," Tommy said solemnly, squeezing her shoulder. "We'll always be there for you, no matter what."

Despite all the grief she was feeling, Sara felt herself giving them a watery smile. "Thanks, guys."


Gotham City

Jason Todd, all things considered, had lived a relatively miserable life, which was par for the course for a Crime Alley native like him. Henchman father, junkie mother, and on the streets by the time he was twelve. His story was all too common, and if Jason wasn't so determined to avoid being completely consumed by the criminal life like his father was, he'd be a hell of a lot worse off. Thievery was hardly the worst offense in the world, and as long as he didn't hold up someone with a gun or anything like that, easy to ignore later down the line when he could finally get his shot at honest work when he was an adult since child labor laws made it a lot harder to come by as a minor.

However, even with the determination to make something of himself that many of his peers sorely lacked, Jason could've never expected the bizarre turn his life had taken these past several months.

"What are you doing at my house again?" Jason asked, crossing his arms. Leaning against the ratty upholstery was one Black Canary, the talk of the town and the absolute last person Jason wanted to be seen around right now. At least, not on these streets. "Look, Myra or BC or whatever you want me to call you, you're my friend, but you know as well as I do that I can't be seen around you. If the people in this neighborhood think I'm a snitch—"

"I know, Jason, I know. That's not why I'm here." His friend tilted her head sadly. "I'm here to say goodbye. I'm leaving."

The statement hit him like a freight train. "Oh." Now that Jason thought about it, it made sense — she just made national news. If she stayed any longer her identity was bound to be exposed soon. "Well… that sucks."

'Myra' laughed. "Yeah, it does. I was going to leave eventually, but I didn't expect it to be this soon. But it is what it is. I have things to do, and I can't accomplish them here, especially if it leads to me being exposed." She gave him a soft look. "But I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you. You've been a good friend to me during my time here in Gotham, almost like a little brother. I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too," Jason admitted honestly. "Good people like you, people willing to help us good-for-nothings here in the Alley — you're rare."

"That means a lot coming from you," Myra told him, sounding touched. "And I appreciate it."

"No problem."

He supposed this was where she was supposed to leave. But she didn't. Instead, the Black Canary peered into his face thoughtfully. "Tell me, what do you think about us Bats? I know you appreciated how we keep Gotham safe, but something tells me there's more to it than that."

A strange question. Jason frowned but decided to answer honestly. "When Batman first started, he was a boogeyman here in the Alley. Considering how all the residents are involved in some kind of criminal activity to survive, there was no other way it could go. He was running around rooftops, beating down criminals and sending them to either prison or the hospital — usually both. How could we not be scared of him?"

"But as time went on, a lot of us, the ones that are desperate to get out and escape this life of crime to make something of ourselves, grew to appreciate him. He took down the pimps that were using and abusing the working girls. He helped bring down the mob that recruited so many of the most desperate mouths in the Alley to do their dirty work and to be left behind holding the bag. He made our lives easier, if only by a little bit." Jason looked down. "He gave us hope."

"And that's a big thing here, Myra. A lot of us, want to get out, because we think out is the only way we're ever going to make it. But wouldn't it be easier, so much easier, if we didn't have to get out at all? If we could live our own fulfilling lives here, without having to worry about getting a rap sheet just to feed ourselves?"

He glanced up at his friend, and she was staring at him, something he couldn't quite describe in her eyes. Jason sighed. "Forget it. I'm not sure what I'm talking about—"

"No," Myra cut him off. "I know exactly what you're trying to say. And I think I've got an idea."


"Where are you taking me?" Jason hissed from behind her, clutching her waist with everything he had.

"Don't worry," Laurel told him, smiling. "We're almost there."

A few minutes later, the familiar of Wayne Manor came into view. Laurel quickly diverted her motorcycle to the secret pathway that led to the Bat-Cave, clicking on the door opener attached to the handle of her bike and watching as the doors parted open. The moment the path was clear, she sped inside, Jason's arms tightening around her waist as they were blanketed by darkness.

Finally, they arrived at the Cave. Laurel parked her bike and got off, gesturing for Jason to do the same. The young teenager did, removing the helmet Laurel had him wear and fixing his hair. He looked around, eyes bulging when he realized where they were.

"Black Canary," they both turned to see an extremely unamused Batman. "Why have you brought someone unauthorized to the Cave? You know better."

"Don't worry, he's trustworthy," Laurel insisted. "He's the one who saved me from Scarecrow and helped us track down the heist crews that worked for the Calculator."

"Even so, why have you brought him here?"

Why indeed? Laurel turned to Jason, taking him in. The young teenager swallowed. "I think he has the potential to be one of us," she finally said, answering the question.

There was a beat. The Cave fell so silent one could've heard a pin drop.

"What?" Jason exclaimed, flabbergasted. "Myra, is this about what I said at my apartment? I didn't mean it like that!"

"Jason, you said it yourself — you wished that things in Crime Alley were better, that you didn't have to leave the Alley to make something of yourself without having to turn to crime? What better way to do that than as a vigilante?" Laurel smiled. "You have it in you. I know you do."

The young teenager swallowed again. "Okay, your faith in me is nice and all, but why would Batman ever try to make something of a street rat like me? For all I know, he's probably expecting me to boost the tires from the Bat-Mobile when he's not looking."

Instead of rebutting that statement, his friend turned to her mentor. "Are you?"

Batman's eyes flashed. "Tell me, what are the current dynamics between the Black Clouds and East Side Dragons?" He was speaking directly to Jason. The younger man blinked, before launching into a lecture about the general history of both gangs and their ongoing feud.

As he started delving into other gangs and their histories and relationships, Laurel felt her smile grow wider and wider. She felt Dick walk up next to her and place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I like him," the former Robin declared.

"I knew you two would," Laurel told him. "What do you think? He got potential?"

"Considering he's telling us stuff about Gotham's gangs that not even we knew about, yes, yes I think he does. So does the old man, by the looks of it."

To punctuate that, when Jason finished his unexpected lecture, Bruce grunted. "Alright. I'll give you a shot," he told the younger man.

Jason blinked. "Wait, what?" He turned to Laurel. "Myra, what did you just get me into?"

Laurel smiled and removed her mask and wig. "My name's not Myra, Jason. It's Laurel." Her smile widened. "Dinah Laurel Lance."

Notes:

And so, Jason joins the Bat-Family. Things for this year are winding down. We've got one more chapter, and then onto Year 5!

Next chapter: the end of Year 4.

Chapter 29: Goodbyes

Summary:

Laurel and Sara both make their goodbyes.

Notes:

Pre-Chapter Note: Sorry about the delay. I wanted to post this when I was sure AO3 was going to stay up this time. Like stated before, this is just a short chapter to wrap up Year 4. The first chapter for Year 5 will be posted Monday.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Starling City

"Ready to go?" Tommy asked his friend, car keys in hand as he waited next to the door.

"Ready," Sara confirmed, her purse around her shoulder. She glanced backward, where Ollie was packing his own bag. "Sure you can't come, Ollie?"

Ollie glanced over at them and shook his head. "Can't. Walter really wants me to attend this board meeting at the company. He said it would be a good learning experience."

The other two of their trio frowned. "How so?"

"One of the members of the IT department turned out to be the ex-hacktivist who created the supervirus that was used in all those bank heists in Gotham. You know, the ones that were stopped by that crazy vigilante chick?" Tommy and Sara nodded; it was all over the news, and even now the whispers had yet to die down.

"Well, it turns out the mastermind behind the heists was her dad, and proving himself 'father of the year', he sold her out when he was arrested. Allegedly it was some twisted way to force her to fulfill her 'potential'; really, it was so he could lessen his sentence, not that it worked." Oliver rolled his eyes — narcissists. Always making excuses for their self-serving actions.

"Okay," Sara said slowly. "What does this have to do with a board meeting, then?"

Oliver shrugged. "Her employment was terminated and she was arrested by the FBI. Rather publicly, at that. The whole debacle, however, is now something of a black eye for us and the Board is meeting to discuss how to best recover from this. We're probably going to mandate and implement more stringent background checks and a more comprehensive interview process so someone else can't slip through the cracks like that again."

Tommy blinked. "I mean, if she's a hacker then I'm not sure a stricter background check would've helped much."

"Maybe not, but as she was being cuffed, she claimed that QC shouldn't let the FBI arrest her since she's a valuable member of the department and its overall productivity will go down without her," Oliver rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Even though she was an associate at best."

"Wow," his best friend whistled. "It takes a special amount of narcissism and ego for a random IT worker to claim that a billion-dollar company can't survive without you."

"Yup, hence the revamped interview process. It's kind of disturbing that we didn't pick that up while we were putting together her personality profile."

Sara sighed. "Well, you have fun with that. Meanwhile, I'm heading off to the airport to make my breakup with my girlfriend official." She threw her arms upwards. "Yay me."


Seattle

"Where is she, where is she…?" Sara tapped her foot as she looked amongst the ever-shifting crowd of people at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, trying to spot a familiar head of red hair. Was she already gone? Sara's heart sunk at the thought of leaving things between Alex and her like that. She already had plenty enough regrets as it was, this was one she didn't want to add to the list.

"Found her!" Tommy's voice piped up, and Sara whirled around to see her friend pointing toward the direction of security. Already she could spot Alex, and her heart stopped.

"ALEX!"

Sara ran to her as much as she could in the airport, watching as Alex's head turned towards her in surprise. "Alex!" Sara said again, coming to a stop and grabbing her knees in exhaustion. "Thank God I caught you before you left."

"Sara, what are you doing here?" Alex asked, setting down her bag.

"Why wouldn't I be here? Did you really think I was going to leave things between us like that?"

Alex pursed her lips. "Well, you made it pretty clear you weren't happy with me."

The other woman sighed. "I know. And I'm sorry about that. It's just… that… I love you, Alex."

"And I love you," Alex reiterated, taking Sara's hands into her own. "I don't want to leave you, Sara, trust me. But my mother… she needs me."

"I get that. I understand. It's just… hard."

"Yeah," her now ex-girlfriend said, sadly. "It is."

They stared at each other for a long moment, before falling into an embrace. Sara felt her tears return as she squeezed Alex as hard as she could, desperately hoping to make this moment last as long as possible. Alex squeezed back, just as hard.

"Promise that you'll always remember me," Sara whispered.

"I will. As long as you promise you do the same."

The blonde pulled away and nodded, a little jerkily. Alex smiled tremulously, her own eyes wet. "Maybe, one day, if we ever meet again, we can be friends?"

"I'd like that."

There wasn't anything left to say. Alex gave her hands another squeeze, then let go, picking up her bag and heading directly for security. Sara watched her pass through the gate sadly and felt a familiar pair of strong arms wrapping around her from behind. Tommy.

She looked up at one of her oldest friends and leaned into his hug. "Thanks for coming here with me."

Tommy smiled down at her, expression bittersweet. "Hey, what are friends for?"


Starling City

"So what did you want to talk about, honey?" Quentin asked softly, setting down the pot of tea on the coffee table. Next to him, Dinah picked it up and began pouring out three cups.

Sara swallowed. She had said goodbye to Alex just this morning, and she still felt raw from the emotions of that unwanted farewell. Truth be told, she shouldn't be doing this right now. But if Sara didn't do it now when she was willing and ready, would she ever have the courage to try again?

It had to be now. As nervous as she was, it had to be right now.

"I need to tell you something," she said, wringing her hands together. "You know how I've been spending a lot of time with Alex lately, right?"

"Yes. What about it?"

"Well, there's a reason for that." She swallowed again. "We were dating."

The room fell silent. Sara gathered up her courage, ignoring the way her parents were staring at her. "I'm bisexual, Mom, Dad," the youngest Lance confessed. "It's not a phase or anything—"

"Is that it?"

Sara stilled. She stared at her parents. It was only now registering that there wasn't any disgust or anger. Just sympathy. "You don't care?"

"Sara, you're our daughter," Dinah said softly, setting down her teacup to take her daughter's hands. "Why would care about something like that?"

Before she knew it, her eyes were beginning to water. Sara found herself in another hug before long, feeling something lodged in her heart finally loosening. They weren't rejecting her. She was still their daughter.

Thank God, Sara thought, burying her head into her parents' shoulders. Thank God.

It was a near-perfect moment. If only Laurel could be here too.


Gotham City

"And… done!" Laurel declared, fastening her Canary necklace around her neck. She looked herself over the mirror, taking in her appearance. Her long hair was no longer wine red but now pitch black, and she had traded her blue contacts for brown ones. Trading in a distinct appearance for a generic one, the change would hopefully make her less memorable.

"You look good," Barbara told her, entering the room. "The bus is almost here. Ready to go?"

Laurel nodded, picking up her bag. Inside were the essentials and a few changes of clothes, along with the few personal items she was keeping: the Hozen, and the List. She was traveling light, in case she needed to make a quick escape. Already she had the location of the first safehouse she would be staying in at the next city over — the place where she would make her solo debut as Black Canary.

It had been one month since the defeat of the Calculator and Jason's impulsive introduction into the Family. Since then, her young friend had settled in nicely at Wayne Manor, adopted as another of Bruce's children and blessed by Dick as his eventual successor as Robin. He was thriving in his training, and Bruce projected he would be ready for basic fieldwork within a year. Considering Jason was technically untrained, only having what he picked up from the streets, it was quite impressive.

He's going to be fine, Laurel mused. They all are. She had already said her goodbyes to the Waynes, giving each of them — even Bruce! — a hug. Now all that was left was her and Babs.

She walked outside the Clocktower and found the bus waiting for her. Next to it was Barbara, talking with the driver. Upon seeing Laurel, she gestured her over, and the two women exchanged a hug. "Don't be a stranger," Barbara said as they let go, a bittersweet smile on her face.

"I won't. I promise," Laurel replied, smiling back.

With that final word said, she boarded the bus for her next adventure. She had learned much in Gotham and gained even more, but it was time for her to go.

Laurel closed her eyes for a brief moment and then stepped inside. One more year, she promised.

One more year, and I'll be home.

Notes:

And that's Year 4. Now all that's left is Year 5, and then onwards to Season 1. Oh, I can't wait.

Next chapter: The beginning of Year 5.

Chapter 30: On the Road

Summary:

The Black Canary makes her mark on the world.

Notes:

Pre-Chapter Note: Before you begin reading the chapter, I need to get something off my chest. One of my biggest pet peeves is a reader trying to tell me what to write. I hate it, and I'm pretty sure other writers hate it too. For the record, this is a hobby and I'm writing this for my own enjoyment — I'm sharing it with all of you because I want to, not because I have to. After all, I'm not getting paid for this.

Now, in the last chapter, a few people complained about me making this a Villain!Felicity story. In no way did I ever suggest this. Felicity is not tagged as a character in any way on the AO3 version or the FFN version (the only reference to her is the 'No Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak' tag on AO3), and I didn't reference what happened to Felicity in the notes. The whole thing about her getting arrested was just a way to write her out and to show that Laurel being on the Gambit has caused serious changes to canon. She's only got one more appearance in the story before she's gone completely. As for the comments the other characters made about her, those were just jabs on how she acted in the later seasons of the show, and at her first meeting with Walter in Season 1. If you rewatch that scene, Felicity made that same exact claim about being essential to QC's success when meeting Walter under the assumption she was going to be fired. Normally, making a comment like that would be enough to fire you anyway.

Yet one particular commenter assumed that I was 'punishing her' and tried to convince me to insert some kind of redemption arc for her because they liked the character. Well, I don't, and I'm not going to change my plans just because you didn't like what happened to her in my story. I guess I'm being really particular about this, but this really annoyed me and I don't want it to happen again.

Besides, even if Felicity were to become a bigger character in this AU, it's highly unlikely it would be as a villain. Laurel isn't the reason she got arrested — Felicity's dad is the reason she got arrested. He's the one who sold her out to lessen his sentence, and the only reason he was in a position to do that was because he was using her program to rob banks. It doesn't matter who caught him because Noah was going to sell Felicity down the river either way. So if Felicity was going to hate anyone, it would be him.

Alright. Now that's done, onto the chapter.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Central City

Central City was a vibrant midwestern city that has been serving as the main hub of America's ever-growing scientific and technological development. Several of the most brilliant minds in the world made their home in this city, among them Harrison Wells, Tina McGee, and many more. Some even called it the Science Capital of the World.

But to best friends Barry Allen and Iris West, it was simply their home. The two had grown up in Central City all their lives, through the best and worst of times. Neither could ever imagine living anywhere else.

Which was rather unfortunate, as Central City had a rather high crime rate.

"Hurry up!"

"We are, we are!" Barry shouted back, hand stretched outwardly in a defensive gesture as Iris hurriedly rummaged through her purse for her wallet. The shining barrel of a gun was directed at them, and the prospective CSI tried his best not to shiver at the sight.

God, how had tonight gone so wrong? Just several minutes ago, Iris and he had been exiting the movie theater, discussing the latest Marvel film that had come out. With Captain America: The First Avenger finally on the books, that meant all the major players were established for the upcoming Avengers movie. He had been waxing on about all the craziness that might happen in the movie, who the villain might be, when this guy with ragged hair and a nasty expression on his face had shown up in front of them, out of the blue, pointing a gun and demanding money.

Barry had already given him his wallet, which just left Iris's. But considering how nervously she was rifling through her purse, the mugger might just cut his losses and take the entire thing with him. He knew she had some pepper spray in there — was she debating whether or not to use it?

"Alright, that's it!"

It seemed like Barry was an oracle. The mugger did exactly that, releasing a groan as he nabbed Iris's purse out of her hands. "Hey!" Iris shouted, only to hiss and back off when the gun was again leveled at her.

"Don't follow me," the mugger ordered, and turned around to leave…

…only to be sent hurtling back by an unexpected force. The best friends blinked as their attacker landed on the ground with a loud splat!, moaning in pain. A woman with platinum blonde hair came into view, dressed in a skin-tight black and yellow suit and wearing a mask on her face. It took them a second for both of them to recognize her: the Black Canary.

Black Canary didn't pay much attention to them at first, instead concerned with kicking their attacker in the head and knocking him out. She picked up their things along with the gun, dismantling the weapon and tossing away its parts in a nearby dumpster before handing them back their wallet and purse, respectively. "You two make a cute couple," she noted, tilting her head.

Almost immediately, Barry and Iris had a collective blush. "Oh no," Barry rushed in. "We're not a couple."

"Just best friends," Iris added.

That didn't discourage the vigilante at all. Instead, it made her smile. "Those tend to make the best kinds of relationships," Black Canary told them. She gave one last glance to the mugger, before drawing out her grappling hook. "You better call the police to pick this guy up. Stay safe."

With that, she launched the grappling hook and zipped up to the nearest roof. Her two rescuees watched her sail upwards in awe.

"Did that really just happen?" Barry wondered.

"Yeah, Bar," Iris replied, clutching her purse to her chest. "It did."


"Sorry boys," Laurel declared as she finished tying up a pair of thieves who had just been in the process of committing armed robbery when she got involved. According to the files Babs sent over, they were Leonard Snart and Mick Rory, two career criminals who had prominent reputations in Central City's local criminal underground. She had been tracking them ever since arriving in the city, having heard rumors of their latest heist and wanting to shut it down before heading on her way. "Better luck next time."

Rory tried to swear at her, not that he could with his mouth gagged. By comparison, Snart was far more composed, and Laurel would dare say she saw a hint of respect in his eyes. When she went to leave, she gave them a wave goodbye on the way out, one that Snart returned with a nod. Meanwhile, Rory just tried to swear louder as he futilely struggled to get out of his bonds.

Laurel was already several blocks down the streets by the time the sounds of police sirens neared the bank. She was heading south, towards the direction of her temporary base. About two weeks since her arrival to Central City, she only had a few more days left here before she would have to leave for the next city on the list. It had been several months since Black Canary had become a nationally-known entity, and she had been slowly combing her way through the country, going east to west, but never staying in one place for too long. The risk was too great.

That being said, traveling had been good for her. Laurel had a few vacations here or there, and of course, there was her time in the League, but never really lived 'life on the road', so to speak. It was a refreshing experience — she got to see other parts of the country, experience life from a different perspective than what she was used to, and meet all sorts of different people. And help them as well. Children, the elderly, the poor, the disabled — even the wealthy. It seemed it didn't matter where you fell on the socioeconomic strata. All were troubled by society's ills.

It made her scowl just thinking about it. If there was one consistent theme, it was that the powerful loved taking advantage of the weak. Corporations stepping down on local farmers and small businesses, corrupt executives and managers abusing immigrant workers, and biker gangs harassing poor towns with ill-equipped law enforcement, it was all the same in the end. Most of the time, she dealt with blue-collar crime, but sometimes there was a white-collar crime too great to ignore. It was just so easy to overlook since the damage it caused was so subtle, less obvious, yet omnipresent. Laurel wished she could tackle more of it, but she simply didn't have the time anymore. She had to be back in Starling by the date Bruce and her decided on, or else she would never get anything done. She was only one person, after all.

Finally, she made it to her base. Laurel changed out of her suit and back into her civvies, removing her wig and putting her blue contacts back in. She was opting for light brunette for her hair this time around, making her appearance look a touch like it was before the Gambit, but different enough to make anyone who might recognize her overlook her at a distant glance. Once she left Central, she would have to change it up again.

For now, it was time to head back to her safe house. She had a nice, warm bed waiting for her.


Starling City

"Okay, this is it," Oliver said, holding the fateful letter in his hands. All around him were his closest loved ones — his mother and sister, and his two best friends — along with his mentor Walter Steele. "My first choice." He picked up the letter cutter, plugged it into the top of the envelope, and sliced through.

Once he had a solid opening, he pulled out the letter and began to read. His eyes slowly widened with each word he read, and after he was done, he slowly lowered the letter, mouth slightly agape, staring into nothing. "Well?" Thea prompted, looking about as eager as everyone else.

"…I got in."

There was a brief moment of silence as those words sunk in, and then a collective cheer. Oliver was nearly bowled over as his little sister threw her arms around him, yelling joyfully and a little incoherently. Tommy and Sara were giving him congratulatory slaps while his mother kissed him on the cheek. Even Walter had forgone British propriety in favor of squeezing his shoulder in a proud, almost fatherly gesture.

Oliver himself accepted their praise with grace, a smile slowly crossing his face as the realization sunk in. He got in… he got in! The Michael G. Foster School of Business at the University of Washington wasn't quite Harvard or Stanford, but it was still a relatively prestigious school with its own fair share of famous alumni. And more importantly, it was close enough to Starling that he didn't have to move.

"I'm proud of you sweetheart," Moira said, curling an arm around her son and giving him another kiss on the cheek. "Not only are you graduating from college, you're starting on your master's! Oh, if only your father were here."

"Indeed, Moira," Walter concurred. "Wherever he is up there, I'm sure Robert is over the moon."

He adopted a more thoughtful look. "In fact, perhaps this is a sign that it's time for you to join the company officially, Oliver. Nothing big, of course, like leading an entire division, but perhaps a small management position will help you get your feet wet for when it's time for you to fully immerse yourself into the corporate world."

The younger man rubbed the back of his head. "Thanks, Walter. I'll consider it once I get a better idea of what my schedule will be." His mentor nodded at that, pleased with the response.

"You suck, Ollie," Tommy mock-complained. "Now that you're graduating from college and going for your Masters, my own dad is definitely going to get on my case about being more responsible and stuff again."

Sara jabbed him in the side with her elbow. "Knock it off, Tommy, and tell him how proud you are," she chided lately. She turned to Oliver herself and gave him her own small smile. "Congrats, Ollie. I'm sure if Laurel were here she'd say the same."

Oliver smiled back. Sara had been a little down ever since her breakup with Alex a few months ago. The support of her friends and family after finally coming out as bisexual had prevented the worst, but there was still a slight air of sorrow surrounding her. He was sure that with more time she'd be back to her old self, but for now, her smiles were rare and precious.

The celebration continued on for the rest of the morning and through lunch. After the meal, the group dispersed, with Sara, Tommy, and Walter all preparing to leave. As they were saying their goodbyes, Oliver found a moment to himself next to the family pictures. He glanced at them, zeroing in on a picture of his father, before taking out his wallet to look at his own personal picture of Laurel. The one she gave him before she went on that boat.

He sighed. "Well, Dad, Laurel, it looks like I'm finally growing up. I'm sure that wherever the two of you are, you're probably saying that it's about time," Oliver joked to himself, giving a bittersweet chuckle.


The following day, he headed down to Starling University to pick up some last-minute paperwork. Now that his application to graduate school had been accepted, it was time to begin the actual enrollment process. Transcripts, theses, financial documents — he wanted to cover all his bases.

It wasn't until he was exiting the admissions office that the trip went awry. Oliver was walking past the gates, near a group of students. Or so it seemed — one of them broke off and started calling out his name. "Hey, hey!"

Oliver sighed and turned around. "Yes?"

It was a young man with brunette hair, a few years his junior. He was scowling. "You're Oliver Queen, right? Do you know who I am?"

"Should I?"

"Name's Teddy Reston," Teddy introduced himself. He was glaring at Oliver. "My dad used to work at your company's old steel mill before yours shut it down."

Oh. "Well, I'm sorry for that, but what does that have to do with me?"

His accuser stared at him for a long time before bursting into mirthless laughter. "What does it have to do with you? What does it have to do with you?" Teddy threw his hands into the air in a helpless gesture. "It has everything to do with you! Where else did you get the money to flunk out of college for four years before finally getting your act together? Meanwhile, I had top marks and a scholarship but was forced to drop out because my family could no longer afford tuition, thanks to your dad swindling mine and the rest of his coworkers out of their rightful compensation! The same compensation you're probably wining and dining on right now!"

Wait, what? "No," Oliver immediately denied. "There's no way my father would ever do something like that."

That was the wrong thing to say. Teddy snarled at that statement before trying to throw himself at him, only to be restrained by campus security and pulled away. Their little confrontation had attracted a crowd, and someone had sensed the possibility of violence and had called in the appropriate authorities.

Even so, Oliver was shaken. His mind was elsewhere, even as he gave his statement to the police and was sent along his way. As he slid into his car, only one thought crossed his mind.

Walter. I need to talk to Walter.


Elsewhere…

Laurel peered out the window of the sleeper bus she was riding in, watching the city concrete gradually bleed into a forest with each passing second. She had once again mixed up her appearance, going for black hair and black eyes and decidedly gothic-like makeup — from nondescript to distinct and distracting, and completely separate from the Dinah Laurel Lance her loved ones knew. The bus was leaving Central City behind and heading to her next chosen destination: the Windy City, better known as Chicago.

Having already passed through most of the east coast, she was closing in on finishing the Midwest before heading down south. After the south was the west, where she would work her way up to Starling. The current plan was that she wouldn't make an appearance in her hometown just yet. Instead, she'd hook up with Selina and trade places with her before heading back to Lian Yu to stay there for three months and sell the castaway story. The older woman had owed them a favor and had agreed to fill in as Black Canary, making appearances in Starling to further divorce the idea of Laurel being her vigilante alter-ego.

It was an efficient little plan, and Laurel felt her chest tighten like it always did whenever she thought of it. Just six or so more months, and she'd be home. Her family, her friends, Ollie… she'd see all of them for the first time in five years. How would they react when they saw her again, when they learned she was alive? Would they see past her walls and find the old her, or someone they no longer recognized? Laurel was prepared for rejection, even though she knew that, intellectually, it was unlikely to happen.

Just as night was beginning to fall and they were closing in on Chicago, she felt a buzz in her pocket. Laurel took out her burner to find that Bruce had texted her, instructing her to contact him once she arrived in the city. She didn't even bother wondering how he knew where she was going. Bruce was going to be Bruce, after all. It was his way of showing that he cared.

The bus pulled into Chicago not long after. Laurel got off the bus and hailed a cab, having it drop her off near the safe house. Once she was fully settled in, she took out her newest burner (the old one shattered by her boot and tossed it into a dumpster next to the bus station) and called a number that she knew by heart. "Hey, B. How's Gotham doing?"

"We have intel for you," Bruce replied, never one to beat around the bush. "The Penguin has been getting weapons shipments overseas, and one of his usual dealers is currently in Chicago, plying his trade."

Laurel rolled her eyes. "You want me to take him down."

"Yes. But not just that. There's something else, something important to you."

"What is it?" the younger vigilante asked, frowning.

"He's on the List," her mentor answered, causing her to gasp. "Leo Mueller, a German arms dealer. This is your chance, Laurel — if you can get him to talk, then maybe you can find out more about the List. Where it came from, who possibly authored it. It would be invaluable information for when it's time for you to return to Starling."

Indeed, it would be. She would have a starting point to get to the bottom of the conspiracy, rather than just running through one name after the other hoping to shake something loose from the tree. Whatever they were planning, if they were planning something, she'd be able to stop before it could get off the ground — provided it hadn't already gone down.

"Thanks, Bruce," Laurel said. "Talk to you soon?"

His response was to hang up the call, to her complete non-surprise. Laurel rolled her eyes again, setting the burner down on the nearby table. Typical Batman.


She went to sleep not long after that, deciding that Black Canary could make her debut in Chicago the following night. The next day was spent stocking up the fridge with fresh food and taking in some of the sights, trying to get a feel of the city. Laurel allowed herself a short training session, followed by another long nap, before suiting up. When she was done, she found an address in another text from Bruce and memorized it.

Alright, Chicago, Laurel thought to herself as she climbed out her window and to the roof. Here I come.

Notes:

A little shorter than usual, but I'm just setting the scene for the rest of this year. I've got a lot of fun stuff planned, including a new character that I've been waiting to write for this story and who's going to play a pivotal part throughout not just this year, but all three seasons after. They'll make their debut next chapter, and boy, is it going to be fun.

Next Chapter: Laurel takes on Chicago.

Chapter 31: The Destroyer

Summary:

Laurel searches for Leo Mueller and finds trouble instead.

Notes:

Note (7/27/2023): If you got a chapter notice about this story being on Indefinite Hiatus, please ignore it. I accidentally posted that chapter in this story, when it's really for moral of the story.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The address Leo Mueller had set up shop in was in one of the more derelict and abandoned areas of the infamous Projects of Chicago. By the time Laurel arrived at the nearest rooftop, Mueller was already in the process of conducting another arms deal with one of the local gangs. Considering the already relatively high crime rate in the city, throwing in military-grade weaponry into the mix was sure to be a recipe for disaster. It was just as well that Laurel was here to make sure it wouldn't happen.

It was about half an hour before the negotiations finished and the trade was about to start. Before a single gun could be exchanged, Black Canary dropped down from above and took everyone out with a powerful, if controlled Canary Cry. The sonic energy was unexpected, and it wasn't long before they were all disoriented. Laurel quickly darted through and knocked everyone out, leaving only Mueller semi-conscious. After restraining them using some nearby rope, far away from the guns, she began interrogating her target.

"Hello, Mr. Mueller," she said coyly, going down to one knee so they could speak face-to-face. "I have some questions for you."

He tried to spit in her face — Laurel deftly dodged before he could. "Now that's not nice," she scolded him. "I just wanted to ask you about a few things."

"I will tell you nothing!" Mueller spat out, his German accent thick, his voice strong.

"Really? Not even about whoever is blackmailing you?"

That got through to him. The man paled and began trembling. "I do not know what you are talking about," he insisted. "Nobody is blackmailing me. I am an arms dealer — nobody has the courage to do so."

Laurel smirked. "Are you sure? I guess that means me finding your name on a certain little List from Starling City is just a coincidence, right?"

Mueller, if possible, paled even further. He almost looked ready to have a panic attack. It was satisfying almost as much as it was concerning. Whoever was behind the List clearly terrified him, and that in itself was not a good sign. Just what exactly had Robert gotten into before he died?

"Come on. Just give me something. We're all the way in Chicago — nobody's going to know."

"You don't know that," Mueller said, shivering.

"Think of it this way — you tell me, I take care of it, you're off the hook for good. They'll never bother you again. Isn't that something? You'll finally be home free."

The arms dealer swallowed. Laurel leaned in, just a little closer. "Come on. Just a name or two. That's all it takes."

She waited patiently, keeping that soft, comforting if slightly smug expression on. Finally, after a minute or so, he broke.

"Tempest," he said, almost too quietly.

Laurel tilted her head, pulling back in slight confusion to look down directly at Mueller. "Tempest? What's that?" The only thing that came to mind with that word was the play by Shakespeare.

Mueller gulped again and opened his mouth to answer… only to collapse dead from a knife in his eye. The vigilante jumped back at the sight, shocked, before turning around and drawing her quarter staff, eyes darting around the area trying to find the assailant. How had they managed to bypass her senses? She had been drilled in keeping a keen awareness of her surroundings from the very moment she first stepped foot on Lian Yu, even more so when she joined the League. Very little got past Laurel these days.

Finally, she spotted the responsible party — a fleeing shadow. Laurel didn't hesitate to follow, speeding down the alley as fast as she could to catch up. "Stop!" she shouted. "Stop!"

Eventually, the shadow did as they closed in on a dead-end. Laurel stopped alongside them and fell into a stance. "Alright, I don't know who you are, but you just made a big mistake. Either stand down now or I will have no issues using this little beauty against you." She twirled her quarterstaff to punctuate her statement.

"Oh, you wouldn't want that, Little Bird," a feminine voice replied, somewhat amused.

Little Bird? The vigilante scowled. "Come out, now!"

There was a beat, and then the shadow complied, stepping into the light to reveal a woman of Chinese Descent, about a decade or so older than Laurel. She had long black hair, dark eyes, and a lightly-tanned complexion. Her outfit consisted of a red qipao shirt, black pants, black combat boots, and a black trenchcoat, all of which did little to hide her svelte, yet muscular physique. It made for an intimidating appearance, especially coupled with the look in her eyes. The moment her gaze fell upon Laurel, the younger woman felt as if she was being dissected alive, laid bare, all for this woman to see.

Laurel did her best to hide how unnerved she was feeling. "Who are you?"

The woman smiled. "Come, and find out," she replied, falling into a fierce stance.

It was an invitation, Laurel didn't hesitate to take. She burst forward, seeking to end this fight quickly. Whoever this woman was, she was dangerous, and Laurel had a feeling if she gave her an inch she'd take a mile. The moment she was close enough, she swung several fast, powerful, and precise strikes, each aimed at the woman's head.

Only for each of them to be parried, quite easily. Undeterred, Laurel went after the body, but the woman deflected the blows again. Suddenly, she caught Laurel's quarterstaff on the last swing, and pulled, elbowing Laurel in the gut before disarming her completely of the weapon. Laurel grabbed her midsection in pain, glaring up at her opponent. The other woman merely smiled and beckoned her over again.

Laurel charged once more, opting for hand-to-hand — her specialty. She struck with everything — her fists, her forearms, her knees, her legs. All swift, bruising attacks that would put even the mightiest warriors on the defensive. But not this woman. No, just like with her quarterstaff, not a single one pierced her defenses. Laurel might as well be flailing at her like a useless child.

Okay. It looks like martial arts aren't going to cut it, Laurel noted, breathing hard as she backed away for a break. She opened her mouth and prepared to scream.

Only for gag as the woman struck her hard in the chest, followed by a chop to the throat. "Oh no," her opponent taunted. "None of that, Little Bird."

Shit! My Cry! That was her best shot at winning this fight. Laurel grabbed her chest and began massaging her throat as she glared. The woman arched an eyebrow and smirked. "Well then, Black Canary, you no longer have access to your little song. Are you going to give up?"

That just caused Laurel to snarl in response. She loosened her shoulders before flying forward, something her opponent welcomed with a wide grin. There was no need to hold back anymore, Laurel gave it everything she had. Every single move she had ever been taught, every single inch of fighting knowledge that she had absorbed these past four and a half years, she utilized, hoping to turn the tides of this battle. Everything she had.

But it wasn't enough. She had an answer for everything. Nothing Laurel did surprised her, caught her off guard, even so much as ruffled her hair. This woman, whoever she was, was in an entirely different league from just about every fighter Laurel knew, from Ivo's wild pirates up to Ra's al Ghul himself. Laurel was completely outclassed in every way imaginable. Even so, she refused to give up.

On and on it went, until her last breath. Laurel collapsed to her knees, hands on the ground. Her entire body was screaming with pain. She was trying to draw up the last reserves of strength she had left, but it just wasn't coming. A pair of boots walked towards her, coming into view, and Laurel glared up at the woman who had done this to her in hatred. The woman smiled down at her, sharp, and crouched down, fingering Laurel's jaw before pinching her chin.

"You have potential, Little Bird," she declared. "Colored me impressed. Rest now, and we shall speak again very soon."

With that, she jabbed Laurel's shoulder in several places with two fingers. Almost immediately, Laurel's body went slack and she felt herself unwillingly falling into unconsciousness. The last thing she saw before that familiar darkness claimed her was the woman's face.

And then… nothing.


Starling City

Queen Consolidated had become something of a place of comfort these past few years, a thought Oliver never once considered would ever cross his mind. Despite his resolve to make something of himself and become worthy of one day taking over the company, Oliver hadn't originally intended to become so heavily involved with QC so early on, but his mother had suggested he join her in her sessions with Walter as he personally informed them about the ongoings of the company, their triumphs, and their failures. Not just to help ease him into the life of a businessman, but also as his privilege as QC's majority stakeholder.

That decision had led to his internship and eventual apprenticeship with the older man, something that Oliver had considered an unexpected blessing. Walter was a kind, attentive mentor and the two of them had only grown closer over the years. He almost felt like a member of the family at times, and Oliver greatly enjoyed his company, even looking forward to their lessons together.

Now, however, he found himself dreading his upcoming meeting with Walter. Not because of the man himself, but rather for the answers he might have. Answers that Oliver feared more than anything else.

"Hello, Oliver," Walter greeted him warmly, gesturing for him to sit. They were in the man's office, and Oliver had taken advantage of Walter's 'open door' policy for him to visit. "It's good to see you, though might I ask why you're here? Last I checked, we weren't supposed to have another session until this Friday."

Oliver swallowed. "Something happened at school today, while I was picking up my papers. I was confronted by a former student at the university: Teddy Reston. His dad used to work at the old steel mill before my dad shut it down."

Walter's eyebrows raised a bit before the realization set in. He sighed. "I take it he accosted you over his family being cheated out of their rightful pensions and severance packages?"

The admission was like a punch in the gut. "Dad really did do it then?" Oliver whispered, almost feeling like he couldn't breathe.

"Unfortunately, and I confess that some of the blame falls on me," his mentor admitted. "I'm the one who found the loophole in their contracts and informed your father about it. I never expected him to actually use it, however; Robert had always been generous when it came to employee severance packages and other post-employment benefits. He said such generosity is what helped make Queen Consolidated so profitable. In fact, at the time your father had dismissed the loophole, not even wanting to consider it. It wasn't until we got bombarded with complaints and lawsuits did I find out he had, in fact, used it."

"We had a huge row about it, and your father was cagey on why he changed his mind. All he said on the matter is that the Board made a complaint about the unnecessary loss of revenue and he had already spent more capital he had with them than he usually did that quarter, so he had opted not to fight with them when the matter came up."

His apprentice frowned. "That doesn't sound like Dad," Oliver noted.

Walter nodded. "I agree, but when I pressed him Robert refused to discuss the matter any further, so I dropped it and let it go."

"Is there any way we can still provide the severance packages now?"

"Queen Consolidated can, but it will involve a lot of red tape and likely take years. We can still take the initiative if you want, however, if you're that determined."

The young, burgeoning businessman thought it over for a moment and then shook his head. "I think a direct approach would be better," Oliver decided. "How much were the severance packages for all the workers in total?"

"Approximately twenty-five million — I can have the accounting department draw up the exact number," Walter told him. "Why do you ask?"

"That's only a little bit more than the trust I gave the Adachis and a relative drop in the bucket compared to the overall family fortune. If it's that much, then I can just pay out the severance packages directly. Do you think that's possible?"

The British man smiled. "We'll have to consult both the legal and finance departments, but I think it just might be."


When Moira's son returned home later that night, he was tense. The Queen matriarch could only frown when she saw it. Oliver had been in such a good mood yesterday, having gotten into his first choice for graduate school. What could have possibly brought him down?

The answer turned out to be a lot worse than she thought. Moira almost felt her heart stop when Oliver revealed his confrontation with the son of one of the old steelworkers. Oh, for all the things to come back to them now! It hadn't really been Robert's fault in the end, just Malcolm's ego forcing the matter, but even so, it was still her deceased husband that would be taking the blame, and she could only hope that this shocking information wouldn't inspire Oliver to look into his father's actions before his death a bit deeper.

"You don't mind me paying out the severance packages, Mom?" Oliver asked as the conversation pivoted to his most recent decision about the usage of the family fortune.

Moira adopted a tremulous smile. "No, sweetheart. It's a good chunk of money, sure, but we have plenty to spare, especially ever since you began diversifying our portfolio outside of the company at Walter's suggestion. Besides, I'm in no position to protest — your father put you in charge of the money, not me."

Her baby boy nodded, still a little deep in thought. "Mom, do you know why Dad chose not to fight the Board on this? Walter said something about spending too much 'capital' he had with them, whatever that meant."

He didn't fight them on this because Malcolm threw a hissy fit and wanted to pull a power play, Moira thought to herself even as she put up her best reluctant expression, which was really not a trial at all. "Your father was trying to pick his battles carefully, honey," she explained. "The Board is all about profit margins at the end of the day and they don't really care about the human element of things unless it affects the bottom line. Your father decided not to fight them on this in order to conserve what leverage he had over them for even more… disagreeable decisions down the line."

"That's just something you'll have to deal with as a businessman, honey. The ultimate goal of any corporation is to make as much of a profit as possible, and not everyone has the same vision on how to achieve that. You need to be prepared to compromise with people who may disagree with you on your ideology in order to achieve your goals."

Oliver swallowed and bobbed his head. Moira frowned — her baby boy was strong, but he had a gentle heart. One that bled for others when it was touched in just the right way. It was an advantage as much as it was a weakness, and she could only hope he would come to understand that as he grew older and compensate for it appropriately.

"Thanks, Mom. I'll remember that."

"Be sure you do, Oliver. Now come, Raisa is baking cookies for dessert tonight. Let's see if we can sneak one or two before dinner." Her boy's expression brightened at that, making him look younger than he had in years, and he quickly headed towards the direction of the kitchen. Moira watched him go with a smile, as she internally breathed out in relief.

Disaster averted, at least for now.


Chicago

Laurel woke up groggy and in agony, a sensation she hadn't had to experience in a while. Her head was bleating with pain, and she groaned as she did her best to pick herself up from where she was laying down. It took some time before she had the strength to do that because she was aching that badly. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked around.

She was in a dojo of some sort, not quite opulently decorated but of a definite high quality. It was a little dark, the only light coming from various candles tastefully decorating a statue of some sort at the end of the building. The mat she was laying on was in the center of the room, and there were medical supplies surrounding her. It was only then that Laurel realized she had been stripped of her vigilante suit and weapons, and dressed in new clothes, something that nearly caused her to have a panic attack.

Bruised and slightly battered but alive, Laurel had no idea where she was and had no desire to stick around any longer than she had to. The young vigilante hissed as she tried to get her body to move, to get back up on her feet, and her only efforts only stopped when she heard the sound of a sliding door. Laurel turned toward the direction of the sound, and her eyes widened. "You!" she shouted.

The woman from last night smirked at her. "Slept well, Little Bird?"

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" Laurel demanded.

Her smirk, if possible, grew even more smug. "I guess you've earned that much," she decided. "My name, if you must know, is Lady Shiva."

And just like that, Laurel froze.

What? "Y-You're Lady Shiva?" she asked, suddenly very, very scared.

Shiva nodded, still smirking. "Indeed, I am. I take it you've heard of me?"

Of course she had. Laurel doubted there was a major martial artist or special operative in the world who hadn't heard of Lady Shiva. To say nothing of the League, where the woman was practically a legend, deemed 'The Creator' and 'The Destroyer'. The most skilled martial artist in the world, a deadly assassin without par. The only warrior equal to if not greater than Ra's al Ghul himself.

To those who knew of her, Shiva was the boogeyman's boogeyman. Even before the League, Laurel had heard all sorts of stories — both Slade and Shado had spoken of the woman in haunting terms, repeating tales about her countless (and often bloody) feats with the kind of awe-filled horror that made Laurel feel ill. The stories about her, about how she hunted down some of the world's greatest martial arts masters to learn from them and then killed them to test her skills, they were the stuff of nightmares. And considering all Laurel had been through these past several years, that spoke much of the brutality Shiva was capable of.

"I have," Laurel answered, swallowing, trying her best not to seem too afraid. "What do you want with me?" she asked, this time in a far more respectful tone.

The master martial artist smiled. "I am interested in you, Little Bird," she replied. "Tell me — do you remember the assassin named Orphan? You defeated him in Gotham some months ago."

The Calculator's enforcer? "Yes, I remember. What about him?"

"His real name is David Cain, and Cain is a man who has… history with me. He is also a man not so easily vanquished. Yet, you managed it."

"And that interests you?"

"Indeed." Shiva's eyes glinted darkly. "I have been observing you since then, and I must admit, I am intrigued. For one so young and with only a paltry amount of training compared to the decades others have, you have quite an amount of potential, Little Bird."

It was a compliment. From anyone else, Laurel would be pleased. But from Lady Shiva? Something like that could only inspire dread. Laurel knew what happened to those who intrigued Shiva, the martial artists she found that had 'potential', and Laurel desperately did not want to end up like them. Because usually, they ended up dead.

Before they could continue the conversation, however, a ringtone echoed through the room. It took Laurel a moment to realize it was her burner. Shiva picked it up from where it lay next to her suit (nicely folded, with all her equipment stacked next to it), and handed it to her, completely calm.

"It is for you. I believe it is the Bat. Please tell him hello for me — it has been a while since we last saw each other," the older woman mused.

Laurel swallowed again. With no small amount of trepidation, she took the phone and accepted the call. She pulled it up next to her ear, and breathed in, then out.

Something told her that this was just the beginning of their time together. And right now, nothing in the world scared Laurel more than that.

Notes:

Yup, Lady Shiva's here! Anybody who's read my Jason Todd stories knows how big of a fan of Shiva I am, and I couldn't resist including her in this story, since its main character is the Black Canary, after all. Shiva is going to be a recurring character throughout this and play a pivotal part in Laurel's development. A very important part, though I'll keep quiet on that front for now.

FYI, the thing about Shiva undressing Laurel while she was unconscious and changing her clothing? Completely in-character. She's not someone to care much about shame or personal space or anything like that.

Meanwhile, back in Starling, Oliver is getting a harsh crash course in the realities of business. Of course, not all of it was completely on Robert — Malcolm was indeed responsible for the decision to cheat the workers out of their compensation. Mostly because I feel that's more characteristic of him than it is of Robert as a businessman. How this affects Oliver later down the line? Well, you'll see.

Next Chapter: Laurel finds herself spending more time with Shiva than she'd like.

Chapter 32: The Steel Mill

Summary:

Laurel's journey home takes an unexpected turn, while Oliver makes a radical decision.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Black Canary? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Batman," Laurel thought it over for a moment, then amended her statement. "Well, not exactly. I'm injured right now, but I'm alive and recovering, so there's that at least."

She could just hear Bruce's frown over the phone. "That's good to hear. Reports are coming in about the arms deal — Mueller is dead. What happened?"

"I was in the process of interrogating Mueller when an independent actor got involved and killed him, throwing a knife in his eye. I chased her down to a dead-end alley, where we engaged in a fight. She… defeated me, and captured me. I'm currently in her base right now."

"What? Then why did she allow you to speak to me?"

Laurel closed her eyes and counted to three. "Batman, she's Lady Shiva."

And just like that, the line fell deathly silent. Laurel could just imagine the panic Bruce was feeling right now. He had his own encounters with Shiva over the years, and none of them were good. According to his own stories, he had never managed to defeat her in a straight fight — every victory always came with a lot of cheating on his end. It was for that reason that he didn't like to face Shiva at all.

On the other hand, Shiva had also been something of an ally of sorts over the years. She had helped Bruce train and get back into shape after his back was broken by Bane all those years ago, letting him regain his confidence in redonning the cowl. If it hadn't been for that, Gotham would've long been destroyed by now. That being said, rarely had those few instances of fellowship been driven by any sort of altruism. There was only one thing in the world Lady Shiva truly cared about, and that was the art of combat itself.

"Let me talk to her."

Laurel didn't bother protesting. Wordlessly, she held out the phone to her captor. Shiva was unsurprised at the gesture and took it, turning on the speaker function so Laurel could listen in on the conversation. "Hello, Batman. It's been quite some time since we last spoke."

"Shiva," Bruce growled. "What do you want with Black Canary?"

The older woman smirked. "Nothing, truly. Your little bird just intrigues me. I want to see more of her, see how far she might one day go. So I'm taking her along with me on a mission of sorts. You don't mind, do you?"

He very much did mind, Laurel knew, and so did she for that matter. But neither of them was in any position to argue. Bruce was all the way in Gotham, too far to rescue her and get her away from the woman, and Laurel herself was injured, completely at Shiva's mercy. Right now, she held all the cards, and they knew it.

"…Only if Black Canary agrees."

At the look she got, Laurel sighed. "You're not giving me much of a choice, are you?" she said knowingly.

Shiva shook her head, still smirking.

"…Fine."

"Good. You heard the Little Bird, Batman. She'll be coming with me. And don't worry — I'll make sure she comes back in one piece." She hung up the call before Bruce could respond, and then turned to Laurel. "Rest now, Little Bird. We have quite a trip ahead of us."

The younger woman swallowed.


Starling City

Oliver Queen frowned as he stared up at his family's old steel mill, one of the things that had been the backbone of their company before his father opted to close it down and move operations to China. A sound business move, but also one of the main contributors to the economic downturn in the city. Something that Oliver was only now beginning to pay attention to after it had been so blatantly thrown into his face a few weeks ago.

The sound of a vehicle pulling up behind him caught his attention, and he turned around to see Tommy's latest car parked on the curb. Once the engine was turned off, the doors unlocked, and out came the man himself, with Sara exiting the passenger's side. "Hey Ollie," his friend greeted him.

"Sara, Tommy," he said back, nodding to both of them. "Thanks for meeting me here."

"Yeah, that's the question," Tommy replied, rubbing the back of his head. "Why are we here?"

Oliver swallowed. "Did you know that when my father shut this place down," he started, jabbing his thumb back toward the abandoned factory. "He cheated the workers out of their rightful compensation?"

His two friends stared at him in shock. "What?" Sara nearly shouted.

"That doesn't sound like your dad," their other best friend noted. "He was always going on about the 'Queen Consolidated Family' and how you guys needed to take care of your employees."

"All true, but he still did it. According to Mom and Walter, he didn't want to do it, but the Board insisted on it, considering it a cost-cutting measure. He wanted to keep the leverage he had over them for bigger decisions, so he caved and went along with it. It was only $25 million, a drop in the bucket compared to QC's usual revenue, but apparently a drop too much to let go."

Sara and Tommy exchanged a look. "That's… something, Ollie, but what does this have to do with us? Or you, for that matter? You didn't have a hand in that decision."

Oliver sighed. "Maybe not, but the company is mine now and I feel responsible. So I'm planning on paying the compensation out of my own pocket. It's the least I can do, and the right thing to do. And this, all of this… it got me thinking." He put his hands on his hips, looking back up at the mill. "The reason I'm going to college, the reason I'm finally taking responsibility for the company — for everything in my life, really, is because I want to make my father proud. To make Laurel proud. To be the man they always thought I could be."

"But… is being exactly like my father the right way of doing that? Conducting business the same way he would? Cheating people out of the money they deserve just to please a bunch of other rich people and make them a little bit richer than they already are so those same people won't screw me over later down the line?" He ran a hand down his face. "I get the logic, unfortunately, but it was still the wrong thing to do in the end. If my father had to go through with it, fine, but he could've at least done what I'm planning to do and paid for the severance of those steelworkers out of his own pocket. But he didn't."

"And Laurel? Laurel would've never gone for something like this. She wanted to become a lawyer to help people, to stop something like that from happening, or at least get the victims what was owed to them. She would never be proud of someone like my dad."

"What are you trying to say, Ollie?" Tommy asked, for once completely serious. Next to him, Sara's own face smoothed out into a similar expression.

The Queen scion shrugged. "I don't really know, Tommy," he admitted honestly. "This, all of this, it's getting me to think that we should do more for the people of this city, more than what we're doing now. Because that's the biggest thing my father and Laurel had in common — they loved this city, and what they wanted to do, with all their hearts, was make it better. And honestly, that's what I want to do as well."

It was a profound statement that neither of his friends knew how to respond to. Sara is the one who collected herself first, and she was smiling. "That means a lot coming from you, Ollie," she stated supportively. "Got any ideas on how to do that?"

"Maybe? I was thinking of starting a few charities, like maybe a soup kitchen or something. But now that I'm really thinking about it, maybe we could do more. Like a foundation of some sort?" Oliver gestured back to the steel mill. "This place isn't being used for anything and is open space, so I can easily requisition it from the company if I wanted to. We could use it, renovate it, make it something more."

"I like the sound of that. How about—"

But whatever Sara was about to say was cut off. "I'm sorry," Tommy said, lifting his hands in a defensive gesture. "But I can't do this."

He walked away and headed back to his car. "Tommy—!" Oliver called out.

"Sorry, Ollie." And with that, he went inside his car and drove off.


"So you're certain that the Board is approving of the idea of acquiring Unidac for Queen Consolidated's new Applied Sciences division?" Malcolm asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"They are," Moira confirmed, nodding. It was her monthly meeting with Malcolm at Table Salt, where she kept him apprised of QC's ongoings — namely their progress on claiming Unidac Industries and thus the Markov device. "Walter is very open to the idea as well since Unidac's output has been so consistently well-received over the years. He thinks they would make a great addition to the company."

Malcolm seemed pleased to hear this. "That's good, that's very good," he mused. "I'm glad you've become so adept at manipulating him, Moira. He should be a useful patsy later down, should it be necessary."

The Queen Matriarch's smile became a little fixed upon hearing that. "Yes. Should it be necessary."

Their food arrived not long after. A few minutes of silence passed by as they settled themselves and began eating. About midway through, Malcolm began speaking again. "I've heard that Oliver has asked permission from Queen Consolidated to requisition the old still mill in the Glades for his personal use."

Ah. That. She had been expecting that. Malcolm had made it all too clear when she first joined Tempest that he had spies in QC and more influence over the corporation than he really should have. According to him, the company only continued to exist so it could serve his aims — something he had illustrated to her after revealing he had been the real reason why Robert had opted to utilize that loophole in the steel workers' contract. Apparently, Robert had opposed one of Malcolm's decisions in regards to the List and Malcolm had decided he needed to be put back in his place, best friend or not. And he had arranged a little "accident" for one of the workers to make it clear what the alternative would be.

Moira suspected it was a bit more to it than that, though. Malcolm was a classist bastard, it was entirely possible he wanted the 'Glades scum,' as he tended to call the residents of this neighborhood, to stay where they 'belonged.' Whatever the case, she knew better than to say it out loud.

"Oliver found out about the steelworker situation after an unfortunate encounter with one of the children of one of the workers, and it hit a little close to home for him," she said instead. "He's decided to pay for the severance packages the workers were owed according to their contract out of pocket. More than that, however, it's reminded him of his father's philanthropy and love for Starling, and of Laurel's own desire to help people."

"Ah, yes, the older Miss Lance. His dead girlfriend — the one who wanted to become one of those crusading lawyers, correct?"

"Indeed. She was always trying to 'save the world', as her friends would say," Moira noted with no small amount of fondness. Laurel had been such a sweet girl, the kind that always brought the best out of her son. Even after she was gone, that still rang true.

Malcolm, of course, cared little for an insignificant working girl he had gotten killed, and it was just another reason to hate him. "Just what does he intend to do with the mill, Moira?"

His right-hand woman sighed. "He intends to start a charity foundation, using the steel mill as its headquarters. A sort-of community outreach center. He wants it at the mill not just because of the sentimental significance, but because the building is both available and located in the Glades. That's where he feels needs the most help, and thus the place he can do the most amount of good."

That got her a scoff. "The Glades can't be saved," Malcolm said scornfully.

Doing her best to keep her true thoughts concealed, Moira agreed. "Yes, but the rest of the city hasn't really come around to your line of thinking, remember? Otherwise, we wouldn't have to be so secretive and you would've closed down Rebecca's old clinic already."

"True," the businessman mused. "Oliver would be suspicious if we tried to convince him not to put his foundation in the Glades because of that. If that's the case, we'll simply have to make up some excuse to keep him away from the neighborhood the night of the Undertaking. There's no need for him to die with the worthless riff-raff he's trying to help."

"Of course, Malcolm," Moira said, and it took everything she had not to spit the words out. Disgusting, absolutely disgusting. Whatever happened to the kind man she had met at Stanford all those years ago? Did he really exist or was he just a mask for the real monster beneath? How did Rebecca, good, kind Rebecca, end up marrying someone like him?

Not for the first time, Moira was glad Rebecca was dead. At least this way, her best friend wouldn't have to live with the atrocities her husband was willing to commit in her name. No, unfortunately, Moira would be the one who would have to bear that burden, and there was nothing more she hated than that.


Chicago

It took a little around two weeks for Laurel to completely heal from her injuries, something she suspected was sped up by Shiva's mysterious salves and ointments that she applied to her wounds and bruises. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth and knowing she wouldn't like the answer, Laurel hadn't bothered asking where they came from. Instead, she had used the opportunity to take a much-needed break.

The day they were due to leave Chicago, Shiva showed up at the front doorstep of her safe house. Laurel didn't bother asking how she knew about that either. "Okay, where are we going?" Laurel asked, crossing her arms and trying not to look or sound too impertinent.

"I've chartered us a private plane out of the country," Shiva revealed. "We cannot fly commercially since you are legally dead and I am a wanted international criminal. Luckily, I have more than enough favors to get us out of the country with little fuss despite that."

Alright. Out of the country again. Laurel had more than her fair share of experience in that. "And our destination?"

"London. You're going to help me dismantle a human trafficking ring."

The Black Canary blinked. "I didn't know you cared about such things." While Shiva wasn't one to partake in such activities, she never particularly cared about opposing them either.

Shiva smirked, tilting her head. "I've been hired by a secret organization called the Ninth Circle to assassinate a man by the name of Egon. He runs a high-level trafficking ring in the United Kingdom, one that he started with their backing. However, lately, they've been getting word that he's been deliberately shafting his tribute to them to hoard more wealth for himself. In addition to that, the trafficking ring has started to get more press as more of the disappearances come to light. So, they've opted to cut their losses."

"So what do you need me for?" Laurel asked. "Sounds like this is something you can handle on your own."

"Perhaps, though not as easily without your aid. Egon is not a man who carelessly exposes himself to danger. I will have issues getting close to him, especially when one considers my own famous reputation. That is where you come in."

"You want me to act as bait," the younger woman realized.

"Of a sort, Little Bird," the master conceded. "You will infiltrate the human trafficking ring as one of their products and help lead me to Egon. Then, together, we shall take him and his operation down in one fell swoop."

A simple plan, but an effective one. "Sounds easy enough. With my Canary Cry—"

"Oh, yes. That."

Laurel was cut off by Shiva abruptly darting forward and striking a pressure point in her neck. Laurel felt something in her throat react to the action, and she backed away, clutching at where Shiva had struck. "What did you do?" the vigilante demanded.

Shiva's smirk widened. "Try and scream," she ordered.

"What? We're indoors!" Laurel knew better than to try using the Canary Cry inside. Bruce's safehouses were sturdy, but not that sturdy.

"Try anyway."

She wasn't going to accept no for an answer. Laurel swallowed and screamed, but rather than the high-pitch sonic energy that usually escaped her mouth, it was just a random yell. Once it became clear that her power was gone, she stopped and glared at Shiva. "What the hell? What happened to my Cry?"

"Just something I've picked up in my travels," Shiva told her. "You'll be unable to use your Canary Cry until the mission is completed. Only then will I return it to you."

"But why? Wouldn't the mission be easier if I had access to it?"

"Yes, but that's not the point of all this, Little Bird. The point is to see what you're capable of on your own without relying on such a potent weapon. Only then will I be able to cast proper judgment upon you."

The words were ominous, and Laurel tried her best not to show the fear she felt on her face. Just what did Shiva have planned for her? Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

"Now come," Shiva ordered, gesturing to Laurel's things. "We have a plane to catch."

Notes:

A lot going on in this chapter. Laurel finds herself dreading whatever it is Shiva has in store for her and now has to conduct a dangerous mission without her Canary Cry. Something she hasn't done in a while, which is making her feel nervous for more reasons than one.

Meanwhile, Oliver is planning on starting a solid charity for the people of Starling, but while Sara is supportive, Tommy's not for some reason. And of course, Malcolm is being a dick as always, while Moira has to put up with his BS. Where is this going? Well, you'll see.

Next Chapter: Laurel goes to jolly old London.

Chapter 33: London

Summary:

Laurel flies to London for her mission with Shiva.

Notes:

Alright, here's the second to last chapter for Year 5. After that, there is one more chapter that will be posted next week.

As for Season 1, when that'll be started… I don't know. I haven't started it yet and have been working on multiple different plot bunnies all at once, including at least two different long fics. Once my head is a bit more cleared and I've had distance from the story, I'll probably start it. For now, just know that I've really enjoyed writing this AU for all of you and I hope you enjoyed it too.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

London

The flight to London took approximately seven hours. They touched down in a private airfield on the outskirts of the city, where a blacked car was waiting for them. After that was about an hour drive to a hotel, a classy place that was way out of Laurel's price range but apparently well-within Shiva's. Not entirely surprising, her services were well-sought out and Laurel was pretty sure she had multiple cults worshipping her as the incarnation of the actual Shiva from Hindu Mythology. The only reason Laurel didn't feel out of place was her own previous experiences with such wealth due to her friendships with Ollie, Tommy, and Bruce.

Once they were settled into the penthouse, Shiva gave her a tight, revealing spaghetti-strapped black dress and a pair of heels, and instructed her to change. Laurel swallowed when she saw it but didn't protest, and when she exited the bathroom with it on, Shiva was waiting for her, beckoning her forward. She took Laurel's arm and placed a clear patch on her forearm, sliding her thumb against it so it was adhere to the skin. "An embedded tracker," she explained. "See-through and practically indistinguishable from your complexion. A high-level piece of technology, it was gifted to me by the Ninth Circle for this mission. It will allow me to track you after you are taken."

"Right. And where exactly am I being taken from?" The vigilante asked, crossing her arms.

"A downtown nightclub by the name of Savant. It is manned by one of Egon's men, an ex-KGB agent named Aleksandr Creote. You will enter the club as a solitary patron and feign intoxication. Should you pique their interest, you will be offered a free room in the back of the club to sleep off your hangover, which is where Creote's men will take you and send you to Egon. Egon likes to personally 'inspect' each and every product before arranging them to be sold."

"And by 'inspect', you mean…?"

"He looks but does not touch," Shiva assured her. "Nor does he allow anyone else to touch. His usual customers like to 'break in' the girls themselves."

It was something, but that didn't make it any less disgusting and degrading. Shiva's words alone made Laurel want to nail this Egon to the wall herself. Human traffickers really were the worst kind of scum.


It was around ten p.m. when Laurel arrived at Savant, dressed in the outfit Shiva made her wear with a black, sheer cardigan to help shield her from the England chill. She had her hair done up in a nice ponytail, her hair curled in a more wavy fashion and her makeup tastefully light. All in all, an attractive picture, enough to interest Egon's people while also making sure it wouldn't be a detriment when it was time for her to escape and fight.

She flashed the bouncer outside a coy smile as she entered the club, immediately hitting up the bar and asking for a drink. Doing her best to imbibe herself with the bare minimum of alcohol while still appearing intoxicated, Laurel passed the next several hours by "drinking" a bit more before heading to the dance floor and acting raunchy and wild. She danced alluringly and provocatively, flirting with men and women alike, during her best to show off her "assets". The entire charade felt demeaning, but considering the end goal was putting down a human trafficking ring, Laurel did what she always did best and sucked it up.

Finally, the night began to die down, passing midnight and into the early hours of the morning. Laurel went to one of the bouncers, doing her best to play the part of being a completely smashed airhead. "Hey…" she slurred, sliding a hand down the man's arm. It took everything she had not to crush his face in with her fist when she saw the way he was running his eyes up and down her body lecherously. "I don't think I can make it back to my hotel." She hiccuped. "Got a place I can crash in?"

He eyed her for a moment, then nodded, gesturing for Laurel to follow him. She was taken to the back and welcomed into a room with a bed inside. Doing her best to hide her trepidation, Laurel flashed another coy smile at him, muttering a soft "thank you", before laying herself across the mattress. As she closed her eyes, she felt a slight pinprick in her arm and tried not to snarl. Tranquilizer!

And with that, she blacked out.


Starling City

The week after Oliver's bombshell saw Tommy doing everything he could to avoid his two best friends. No matter how much they entreated him, bombarding him with calls, texts, and even emails, he refused to respond to them. Eventually, both of them had enough.

Being the city's premiere playboy now that Oliver had gone on the straight and narrow, it took Sara minimal time to use her own extensive gossip network to learn where Tommy was spending his Saturday night: his favorite club, Camelot. Syncing up with Oliver, the two of them decided to ambush their friend there and see if they could get him to talk to them then. Whatever it was that was bothering Tommy, that had caused him to leave them out in the cold like that, they needed to know.

Ever since they had 'settled down', for lack of a better term, both of them found the bans they had steadily racked up in the wake of the Gambit's sinking gradually lifted one by one. Oliver and Sara were both once again welcome in the party circuit, even if they had lost interest in fully involving themselves in that kind of lifestyle. That meant they were both able to use their own connections to enter Camelot easily.

They found Tommy in the absolute last place they wanted him to be: at the bar, getting stupendously drunk. At the sight of his best friend sitting on a bar stool, slumped over the counter with a shot glass in hand, Oliver could only sigh. "Oh, Tommy."

"Ollie?" Tommy looked up to his side, hiccuping. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, buddy. It's me. Come on." He hooked one arm under Tommy's shoulder, watching Sara do the same with the other arm. "Let's get you home."


The talk they wanted didn't happen until the following morning at Tommy's apartment after he had woken up and had breakfast and a hangover cure. Oliver and Sara had opted to stay the night to keep an eye on him, with Oliver taking the couch and Sara, the spare bedroom. Tommy hadn't exactly been happy when he found out.

"You two didn't have to do that," he insisted. "I can take care of myself."

That only got him flat, unimpressed looks from both of his friends. Tommy wilted at those expressions, and breakfast was conducted in silence as he recovered from his hangover. It wasn't until the meal was over and the plates were cleaned that they finally got around to talking.

"Look, I'm not some kind of unfeeling jerk, or naive or anything like that," is what he started off with. They were sitting in the living room. Well, it was more like Oliver and Sara were sitting. Tommy was standing up, pacing around nervously. "I get it, I really do. A lot of the bad stuff that happens, the way the city's been going down over the years, it has to do with the bullshit laws that have been passed, the government favoring big business over the little guy. I get that."

"Do you?" Sara asked, arching an eyebrow.

Tommy shot her a look. "I do. Have you guys forgotten? My mom used to be the biggest humanitarian in this city. She always believed it was the duty of the wealthy to take care of the less fortunate." At his admonishment, Sara ducked her head apologetically.

"Tommy, if that's the case, then why…" Oliver trailed off, then shrugged. He didn't have to say much more than that.

"Ironically, enough, that's also because of my mom. We all know what happened to her."

That put a significant damper on the mood. Suddenly, Tommy's reluctance made a lot more sense. "Okay then," Oliver started, tone understanding and careful. "What does that mean for you?"

The other man swallowed. "I think what you're thinking of doing is a great idea, Ollie. A lot of people in the Glades aren't making something of themselves because they haven't been given the chance or the resources needed to do so. I get that. But if we're going to do this, we need to be careful about it. I don't want what happened to my mom to happen to us as well." There was a collective flinch.

"So you're thinking security," Sara realized.

"Strong security," Tommy confirmed. "And tight as well. The same kind the clinic has had ever since Mom's death. The Glades isn't just poor guys, it's also dangerous and volatile. That's the unfortunate reality. I'm not suggesting we have heavily armed soldiers outside or anything like that, but…"

"No, I get it," Oliver interjected, holding up his hand to stop Tommy from speaking. "I'll talk to my mother — she'll have some idea of which security firm we should use. Is that fine with you two?"

"Sounds good to me," Sara declared, Tommy nodding along.

"Alright. Now that is finally settled, we can finally get around to talking about what kind of services we want to provide if this gets off the ground."

That was the cue for the three of them to head over to Tommy's dining table, break out the notebooks, and actually start talking about this. They listed out questions they needed to ask, and what they needed in order to make this work. The legalities, the funding, the construction — everything. Then there were the actual services.

When that came up, Sara suggested they partner up with some of the other charity organizations already established in the local area. "There's the clinic, obviously," she noted, nodding towards Tommy. "But there's also this place called the City Necessary Resource Initiative, or CNRI — they're a legal aid office located in the Glades. I heard about them from one of my patients when I was volunteering at the clinic. It's the kind of place Laurel would've wanted to work for if she couldn't get a spot in the DA's office."

Oliver liked that. He liked that a lot, and so did Tommy, and just like that, they were off. The entire day was spent talking and talking doing more research. Tommy brought in his laptop and began Googling stuff. Sara and Oliver took turns transcribing things. By the time night hit, they had around four full notebooks full of ideas, and Oliver had a feeling that this was just the beginning.


London

The tranquilizer wore off a few hours later. When Laurel came to, she found her hands bound in front of her with rope and her ankles tied together. To her relief, her outfit was intact — just as Shiva said, nobody had 'sampled the goods'. Glad to see the woman had some standards.

She was in the back of a truck for some time, surrounded by other girls in a similar predicament to hers. Those that were awake were obviously nervous and afraid, quietly sobbing as they waited for their fates. Laurel did her best to act like them, not wanting to clue in anyone about how she really felt. That was just asking for more trouble than she was already in.

Eventually, the truck stopped, with the sound of the engine turning off. This, if anything, caused the sobbing to become worse. The back doors opened, revealing several armed and unfriendly men. They began gesturing for them to get out, a few dragging some of the other girls out to get the message across. Laurel played along, following the group out of the truck and landing on her feet.

When she got out of the vehicle, she cased her surroundings and hid her frown. They were at the docks, close to a nearby warehouse. The men were lining up the girls across from the warehouse near one dock, and Laurel went with them, not wanting to cause a scene just yet. Once they were all out and in a neat line, a blonde-haired man came into view. Judging by how deferential everyone was to him, this must be Egon.

"Welcome, my dears," he said in accented English. He was German like Leo Mueller, by the sounds of it. "Do not fear — do not cause trouble and there will be no trouble. As for why you're here, a certain count in Vlatava has paid a pretty penny to have you on the market there. Soon, you'll be boarding a ship, where you'll be taken to his country and be sold like the good product you are."

More girls began crying. Laurel tried not to vomit even as she feigned fear. Scum indeed — how could someone talk about other human beings like that? She might not kill anymore, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to Shiva finally getting her hands on this guy.

Egon began running down the line, going to each girl and observing them closely. The 'inspection', as Shiva had called it. Some of the girls flinched when he was near, others looked away. None of them could meet his eyes.

When he made it to Laurel, however, he paused. Laurel was doing her best to act as helpless and frightened as the others, to make herself look small, but she couldn't quite keep the disgust out of her eyes when she saw him. Egon tilted his head, and then suddenly grabbed her by the chin, pulling her forward. He adopted a more introspective expression, humming. "You've got fire in you," he declared.

Laurel frowned. Egon tapped his own chin with a single finger. "Maybe I should kill you for that. The ones with fire tend to cause the most problems. On the other hand, customers love breaking those ones the most." He pulled on Laurel's chin a little harder. Too hard.

Okay, fuck this. The vigilante wrenched her head away, much to his surprise. Then, she kicked him in the gnads.

Egon's eyes went as wide as plates as he wheezed, bending forward to hold his nether regions. He grunted and gasped in pain, even as he glared up at her, insulted. "Kill her!" he ordered to his nearest man.

Laurel cursed as guns were leveled at her. Not her brightest moment. Before she could begin to run, however, there was the whistling sound of something sailing in the air, and a knife struck Egon in the shoulder. "Ugh! What is this!" he demanded.

"Hello, Egon."

Just like that, every eye landed on the area behind Laurel. Laurel turned around and blinked; Shiva was standing on one of the storage units, smirking down at everyone imperiously. "Dante is not happy with you," she announced for everyone to hear.

Egon paled immediately upon seeing her. "Shiva," he whispered in horror before suddenly darting away in the opposite direction, far from the assassin. He began shouting orders in German, and many of his men began following him. Shiva jumped off the storage unit, tossing a knife toward the ground near Laurel, before pursuing him.

Laurel got to the knife before anyone could stop her, quickly using the blade to free her hands and then her feet. By the time one of Egon's men was near her, she was able to punch his lights out, knocking him out easily. More guards came at her, some even trying to shoot her, but she handled them easily enough.

Once they were all down, she went about freeing the other girls. They were shaken and afraid, but the idea of being free of this mess was too tantalizing for them to resist. None of them stopped her from cutting their bonds, and once they were all free, they didn't hesitate to follow her back to the trucks. The plan was to drive their way back to London.

Unfortunately, however, they were blindsided by an army of thugs descending from a nearby ship at the nearest dock. More of Egon's men, probably those that were supposed to be their guards once they had been properly 'loaded'. Laurel had to pull another girl out of the way of being shot and guided them behind several shipping containers for cover. "Stay here," she ordered, before looking around for something that could help.

She found a large piece of scrap metal nearby, big enough to carry as a shield. That'll have to do, Laurel thought grimly as she ran over to pick it up. She held it in front of her, inhaling a deep breath, before charging out from the side and into the fray. There were shouts of surprise at her decision from both sides, but Laurel ignored them all in favor of going to the nearest thug and slamming the metal into him, knocking him down. She grabbed his gun and knocked him out with another swing of the shield, then kneecapped several of the men nearby.

Once she was out of bullets, she dropped the gun and kicked it away, and went after another thug, disarming him and knocking him out. And another and another. Eventually, once all the bullets ran out and they resorted to rushing her instead. Just as well, Laurel swung her shield, braining one of them in the head as she dived into the crowd and began hitting everything that moved.

Without her Canary Cry on hand, she was vulnerable, much more vulnerable than she usually was. She had no choice but to fight harder than usual, to be as brutal and unmerciful as possible. Anything less would mean her death, and Laurel had no intentions of dying here, not when she was so close to home. I'm surviving, she thought, grunting, the memories of a far kinder man than those present and a bullet crossing her mind, no matter what!

The passage of time became meaningless. Laurel fell into some kind of zone, one she forgot just about everything except her surroundings, a single-mindedness focused entirely on fighting off Egon's army. Her hands, knees, and feet lost feeling with every strike she made, the pain no longer registering.

Finally, it ended. Before Laurel knew it, she was standing in the middle of a defeated army of groaning and moaning goons, bloody, bruised, and a little battered, but unquestionably victorious. She breathed hard, staring into nothing, just… there.

Suddenly, there was slow clapping, and Laurel, acting on automatic, fell into a defensive stance. She blinked when she saw it was Shiva, however, and straightened up. The older woman was visibly grinning, a touch of mania to her pleased expression. "Well done, Little Bird," she purred. "I knew you had it in you."

More praise. Laurel's mind was too foggy to really register it. Before she could respond, she felt her injuries and exhaustion finally catching up to her. Her body began to wobble, and her eyes began to close.

She fell to the ground, face first, and for the second time that night, fell unconscious. The last thing she saw before her world turned black was Shiva's proud, dark eyes.

Notes:

And that's the end of that mission! I hope you enjoyed reading Laurel being more of a badass. Egon comes from the Red Hood: Lost Days comic, while Aleksandr Creote is from Birds of Prey. Also threw in some Ninth Circle connection there because I couldn't help it, though, in the end, the real driver of this is Shiva. If you've read the Batgirl (2000) series and Birds of Prey, you probably have some idea of what Shiva wants with Laurel, but I'll keep you in the dark for now.

Meanwhile, we get some of Tommy's insecurities regarding the foundation, which is understandable. But now that he's gotten over it, the work can begin in earnest. As for the foundation itself, well, you'll see where that goes soon enough.

Next Chapter: Laurel prepares to return home.

Chapter 34: The Offer

Summary:

Laurel gets an unexpected offer, one that could change everything.

Meanwhile, Oliver decides on the name of his new foundation.

Notes:

A quick reminder that this is the last chapter of Laurel's five years away. I haven't finished planning Season 1 yet (been working on another story), so you're going to have to wait on that front.

Until then, please enjoy the chapter, and remember to update the TV Tropes page!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Starling City

Thea Dearden Queen popped her head through the open door of her brother's bedroom, watching quietly as he worked furiously on some paperwork at his desk. Work for the Foundation no doubt, though she was wondering when he was finally going to get around to naming it. They couldn't just keep calling it 'the Foundation', after all.

Her time at high school had smoothed out into something comfortable ever since that fateful, ill-fated birthday of Tommy's. Having taken Oliver and Sara's advice to just be herself, she joined several clubs, including the school's archery team. There, she found several like-minded people who shared her interests and finally found the friends she had been seeking. From there, she began to thrive, keeping her grades high, her life constantly busy with various school activities and archery practice, with the team advancing to Nationals every year ever since she joined.

Next year was her senior year and that meant she was going to be busier than ever. Already Thea's mind was on colleges, debating where and when she wanted to go. She was undecided, but there was time — she was even considering the possibility of a gap year to expand her horizons a bit more before pursuing college in full.

But as busy as her life was going to be in a few months, Thea was never too busy to bother her brother. "Hey, Ollie," she said, stepping inside, hands clasped behind her. "Whatcha doin'?"

Oliver turned to her and yawned, rubbing his eyes. "Just organizing some papers, Speedy."

"For the Foundation?"

Her big brother nodded. Thea leaned against the doorway, tilting her head. "How's that going, by the way?"

"Well," Oliver told her, slowly smiling. "Really well. I've been working with QC's charity arm to get things up and running, and Sara and Tommy are contacting various charity initiatives throughout the Glades to pitch in or at least coordinate with us. We've also begun posting information about it online to get some donors, hiring contractors for the renovation… it's a lot."

Thea frowned. "Do you have a tentative date for when you're up for operation?" she asked.

"Late summer to early autumn, according to our best projections."

Huh. That was earlier than she thought it would be. "That's good. Hey, do you think it's okay if I go volunteer there sometimes with my friends? We can do tutoring or something." Volunteering always looked good on college applications and she honestly liked the idea of giving back to the community, and many of her friends felt the same.

Oliver hummed. "We do plan on offering tutoring as part of our initiative, and we could always use volunteers for that," he mused.

That caused Thea to smile. "What are you guys planning on naming this place, by the way? You can't keep calling it 'The Foundation', it's too generic."

There was a pause as her older brother fell deep in thought. Slowly, his own smile began to spread across his face. "I think I have an idea of what it could be," he said, "but I need to run it by the Lances and Tommy first. I don't think they'll mind, though."

The Lances? I get Tommy and Sara, but why would he need to ask Mr. and Mrs. Lance… Thea's thoughts trailed off as her eyes widened in realization, and her smile grew a touch softer and wistful.

"If it's what I think it is, I don't think you have to worry at all, Ollie."


A few days later, Oliver and Tommy were invited for dinner at the Lance home. It had been a while since such a thing had happened; they used to do it a lot as kids, whenever their parents were too busy but still wanted to give Raisa the night off. The invitations died off as they grew into adulthood and were able to start eating out on their own (not to mention Quentin's general disapproval of Oliver and Tommy's turn to debauchery), but had been gradually revived over the years in the wake of the Gambit and Oliver's turn to the straight and narrow. Oliver and Tommy's support for Sara during her break up with Alex had only endeared her parents to them even more.

Quentin was the one who opened the door, greeting them with a smile. His relationship with both boys had improved a lot over the years due to shared grief over Laurel's death, though he still disapproved of Tommy's partying lifestyle very heavily. "Come on in," he said. "Dinner's just about ready to be served."

The place settings were already on the table, along with the food. The two young men greeted the rest of the Lance family, Dinah and of course their best friend Sara, before seating themselves at the dining table. Food was spread around, and everyone dug in.

The conversation veered towards catching up with what the Lances were up to. Sara, of course, was working with them on the Foundation and in her second year of med school. Dinah was teaching classes at the university as always, and Quentin was immersed in detective work. "You three need to be careful in the Glades at night," he warned them, grunting. "The mob has been really bolstered over the last few years and they have a strong presence in that neighborhood."

"Will they make trouble for the foundation?" Oliver asked seriously, ignoring the pointed look Tommy was giving both Sara and him.

The older man shook his head. "I doubt it," the detective admitted. "The city needs to be healthy for them to thrive, after all, and you can't fleece people who don't have money to take. But you can't be too careful, either."

That made sense, in a twisted kind of way. How Quentin dealt with that kind of stuff, Oliver would never know. It made him glad he never went into law enforcement or anything like that. "Speaking of the foundation," Oliver said, diverting the direction of the conversation to something much lighter. "I'm going to be filing the paperwork soon to legally establish it as an entity. Which means it needs a name. And I've been considering this for a while now, but I was wondering if it was okay with all of you if I named it after Laurel? It'll be called the Dinah Laurel Lance Foundation, if that's the case."

The words rushed out of him. He had been nervous about this for days, and now that the moment was here, Oliver was a bit scared to see their reactions. They wouldn't be offended, would they?

There was a brief silence as his words registered, and then a gasp. Dinah began to cry, and both Quentin and Sara had shiny eyes. Even Tommy looked stunned and touched. "We'd like that very much, Oliver," the college professor replied tearfully, speaking for her entire family.

"Yeah," Quentin added, swallowing. "Thank you, Oliver."

Oliver glanced at Sara, who was biting the corner of her lip. "Sara?"

"I'd like it too, and I'm grateful as well, but… Ollie, what about your dad? The steel mill used to be his, didn't it?"

Is that it? Oliver smiled and waved it off. "My dad is already getting QC's new Applied Sciences Center named after him, and the company is more his legacy than anything else," he told her. "He's already getting honored. Laurel deserves to be honored too, and the foundation is something more along the lines of what she would have done."

"That's true," Tommy said, speaking up for the first time since the topic changed. He was giving Oliver a proud smile. "She would've loved doing something like this."

It was all the approval he needed. Oliver felt his heart beating hard, and he closed his eyes for a moment. This way, you won't ever be forgotten, Laurel, he thought, determined. I hope that, wherever you are up there, you're proud of us.


London

I'm getting really sick of waking up like this, Laurel thought with a groan, her body on fire with pain. At least this time she was waking up in a bed, instead of a mat on the floor. She looked down at herself, seeing herself changed out of the black mini dress Shiva had forced her to wear and now in a slightly more conservative white tank top and shorts. She was bandaged just about everywhere, and she could feel the oily sensation of ointment on her skin.

"I was right to bring you along."

Laurel sighed and glanced to her side, where Shiva was watching her, seated next to her bedside. She had her legs crossed, and was eying Laurel like she had been searching for the other woman all her life, and had finally found her. "You have the spirit inside you," Shiva continued, eyes completely trained on Laurel. "The spirit of a true warrior, of a creator and destroyer, much like myself."

"What do you mean by that?" 'Creator'? 'Destroyer'? Weren't those just nicknames?

"Let me ask you this, Little Bird: what did it feel like to fight all those men? Didn't it make you feel strong, alive?"

It was a weighty question. The vigilante swallowed as she thought back to those frightful minutes when she had been fighting for her life against what seemed to be an endless army of goons, and found, much to her surprise and distress, that Shiva was startlingly close to the truth. Something that must've shown on Laurel's face, judging by the small smile the older woman had.

"You and I are kindred spirits," the master declared. "Like me, you live and thrive for combat. It is bone-deep, woven into your very soul. Remember that, Little Bird."

If Laurel had been disturbed before, she was almost in a panic now. The way Shiva was looking at her… and her words. Laurel didn't want to admit it, but they had a note of truth in it. If there was anything Laurel enjoyed learning these past four and a half years, it was learning how to fight. Combat lessons were the one thing she had never shied away from, not after she met Slade and especially not after she met Shado and saw what the other woman was capable of.

First, of course, it had been because learning how to fight was the difference maker between life and death when she was on Lian Yu. Either Laurel learned, or she died. But even with that, some part of Laurel just wanted to learn and learn more. Even in the League, where the tutelage was brutal and often lethal, combat had been what she 'enjoyed' the most, if she could enjoy anything at all there. Same with Bruce.

She enjoyed learning how to fight. And more than that, she loved fighting in itself. But did that really make her just like Shiva?

"Become my student."

What? Laurel blinked, startled, and stared at the other woman. Shiva looked deathly serious. "I will teach you everything you could ever possibly need to learn to be a martial artist like myself. A true master. As you are now, you can fight off thirty men — but after I am done with you, you'll be able to fight off three hundred."

It would be a ludicrous claim coming from anyone else, but this was Lady Shiva. The greatest martial artist in the world. Not only had she learned from the best, she had taught the best as well — Bruce was proof enough of that. If she said she could make Laurel that great, then Laurel had no reason to doubt her words.

The offer was tempting, so tempting. Part of Laurel wanted to accept it. But logic won out in the end, and she thought it over a bit more carefully. Shiva's offering of tutelage always, always came with strings attached, a price that needed to be paid. Typically it was a duel to the death with Shiva herself, a year after the initial completion of the training. But that was with someone that was a baseline human. Laurel was enhanced.

It was very likely the price would be different. And considering what kind of training Shiva was implying she would put Laurel through, what she would make Laurel into, the price would be high, higher than Laurel would like. To say nothing of the fact that whatever training she would have to undergo would take months or more, and she couldn't afford to waste that much time anymore. Not only did she need to establish Black Canary's alibi throughout the country before she returned home as herself, but she had been gone from all her loved ones for almost five years now. She couldn't bear to be away from them any longer.

"No," Laurel said, refusing the offer, surprising Shiva for the first time since they had met. There was a small part of Laurel that found pleasure in that — the part that was terrified that Shiva would retaliate for her refusal, perceiving it as some kind of slight. "I'm honored you'd think I'm worthy of your tutelage, Lady Shiva, but I have things to do, things that can't wait. I don't have time to undergo whatever training you have in mind for me right now. I hope I haven't offended you with my choice."

Shiva observed her for a long moment, before smiling sharply. "You haven't offended me at all, Little Bird," she replied, voice velvety. "The offer remains on the table. You may take it up any time, and I do not doubt that one day you will. There will come a day when you will realize that you need to unleash your full potential as a warrior to achieve your goals, Dinah Laurel Lance, and when that day comes, I will be waiting."

With that final word, she got up to leave. She reached into her jacket and took out a slip of paper. "The address to the airfield with the plane that will take you back to the States," Shiva told her. She turned to leave but paused, and turned back to Laurel. Fast as a mongoose, she darted forward and jabbed her neck with two fingers.

"Your Canary Cry," she explained, and then she was gone. As the door closed behind her, Laurel leaned back into the bed and sighed.


Seattle

Laurel returned to the United States a few days later, her injuries completely healed from whatever mysterious ointment Shiva had used on her. Doing her best to put that honestly hellacious encounter out of her mind, she continued her cross-country trek, going to the south like planned, before moving up to the west coast. Black Canary continued to get consistent press, some flattering, some not, but hardly a concern.

And then, after months of travel, she ended up in Seattle. This time, when she went to the designated safe house, it wasn't empty — someone was already there, waiting for her.

"Hey there, birdie," Selina Kyle waved with her signature cat-like smile from her spot on the couch. "How was the road trip?"

"Eventful," Laurel answered honestly after a moment of thought. "Though I guess Bruce already told you all about that."

"Indeed he did. Ready to pass the baton? I've already got my own suit and Canary Cry," Selina told her, twirling a high-tech collar around her finger. The public was still under the impression that Laurel's Canary Cry was the result of technology, and everyone wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Laurel nodded. "Spend a week or two here as BC, and then you're free to go to Starling. Meanwhile, I'll be heading back to my other 'home'."

Selina tilted her head. "The island, right? I thought you hated that place — why would you ever call it home?"

Why, indeed. Laurel closed her eyes as several memories passed through her head. Some good, a lot of bad, but in the end all essential to shaping her into the person she was today. Whether she liked it or not. "Because as much as I hate it, it's a part of me now. And I've made my peace with that." Much like everything else in her life.


Lian Yu

The weeks passed. Laurel did one last run through Seattle as the Black Canary, before putting away her suit and equipment for a while and handing it off to Selina, who would store it in what would be Laurel's base when she finally returned to Starling. After some debate, she opted to give her the List as well; better for whoever was behind to believe it had been lost at sea with Robert Queen than with her. All she was taking with her was the Hozen, something that could've conceivably been found on Lian Yu, and of course her Canary necklace.

And then, it was back to the island itself. The first thing she did after touching down was head directly to the graves of Yao Fei and Robert and pay them her respects. Now that her journey was nearing its end, it seemed only fitting she'd pay tribute to the two men who had made sure she would make it to this point. If only Shado could be here with her as well.

"I'm almost home," she told Robert's grave in particular. "I promise, I'll tell them that you loved them. And I will stop whatever conspiracy that was behind your death. No matter what."

She bowed towards the graves once more and then headed to the fuselage. Time to settle back in.


Once all her things were properly stored and she was done scavenging (or in some cases, making) the proper tools she would need to survive the next three months, Laurel started doing a trek around the island, trying to re-familiarize herself with the terrain. She paid particular attention to the ground, trying to remember the signs that indicated a buried landmine — one of the worst dangers of Lian Yu.

What she found instead was startling. Laurel stared at the burnt-out field, eyes wide. "What the hell?" she whispered.

She walked across the edges of the field, only to begin pinching her nose as a putrid smell entered her nostrils. Against her better judgment, she followed the direction from where the smell came and flinched back when she saw the source: a mass grave.

Several still-rotting bodies were piled together in a massive hole that had been dug up. There had been an attempt to re-bury the bodies, but it had been done poorly, and Laurel could still see a few limbs and heads sticking out of the dirt. It was honestly horrible, one of the worst things she had ever seen, and that was saying a lot. What had happened here?

When she returned to the abandoned plane later that night, her head was spinning. Laurel had spent the entire day investigating that side of the island, trying to figure out what had happened there, and she didn't like what she was seeing. All the evidence pointed to an abandoned military operation of some sort, one that had not just done severe damage to the island's ecology but had also mounted a high body count. To say nothing of the strange, empty, and open cavern that ran deep but held nothing. There was blood there, several signs of a fight of some sort, but no bodies. Laurel suspected they were part of the mass grave as well.

Who could be responsible for all this? Part of her wanted to know, but part of her didn't. And why? What could be worth so much death and destruction? Whatever the case, it happened while she was gone from the island, and the people involved were either in the ground or long gone. She wasn't going to find out here; she could only hope it would never come back to haunt her later down the line.

Instead, she took out her map of the island, drawn partly from memory and partly from whatever information Barbara had managed to scrounge up with her research. Laurel took out a pen, a leftover from Fyers's camp, and deftly marked off the section of the island where the burned field and mass grave were. That place set her nerves on fire — better to keep away from there, and just stick with the forest instead.


More months passed. Her hair grew longer, dirtier, as did her clothing. Her diet once again became fish, game, and whatever vegetation she could find. Whenever she wasn't hunting for her next meal and getting clean water, Laurel was training. Meditating, practicing katas, even scavenging for weapons, and practicing with those as well. Anything that would help her keep her skills sharp.

And then, finally, the day came. She had brought a calendar with her, carefully marking down the days every morning. Waiting, almost agonizingly, for the one where she would finally get to leave this place behind her for good. Leave, and finally go home to everyone she loved.

The night before she was due to leave, Laurel packed her things, deciding what she'd take with her and what she'd leave behind. Then, she made one last visit to Yao Fei and Robert's graves, setting down some flowers she had picked on both. A final goodbye.

In the morning, she grabbed her pack and trekked to the spot where the fishing trawler that Bruce had arranged to pick her up would be sailing by. There was already a beacon built there, one of the first things she had made upon her return. When she made it to the beacon, she took out a pack of matches, ones that she had kept dutifully dry, and set it on fire.

The people on the trawler noticed immediately, of course. They found her waiting on the rocks, and Laurel conversed with them in their native Mandarin easily, explaining who she was and why she was on the island. A few hours later, Lian Yu was gradually growing smaller in the distance, while she was seated on the boat, a blanket around her shoulders and her bag sitting next to her.

It was over. After five, long years, it was finally over.

A few minutes later, she was given a phone. Laurel stared down at it for a long moment, gathering her courage, before inhaling a deep breath, and punching in a phone number. One she knew by heart.

One ring. Two rings. Then…

"Hello?"


Starling City

Detective Quentin Lance, both physically and emotionally exhausted, entered his home and immediately headed for the couch, loosening his tie along the way. He flopped onto the cushions with a groan, throwing his jacket to one of the side chairs. "Why do they always send me to these things?" he asked the world.

In front of him, his wife Dinah and daughter Sara exchanged amused looks. The three of them had just come back from a charity ball for the SCPD. Quentin had been required to go by his bosses as a representative for his precinct, while Dinah and Sara had opted to go with him to try the fancy food. Needless to say, they had enjoyed their time there far more than he had.

"Easy, Dad," Sara said cheekily. "You're the one who managed to get his daughters into the fancy prep school and got suckered into courtesy etiquette lessons by the staff."

Quentin groaned again. "Don't remind me," he said sourly, laying his head against one of the throw pillows.

The Lance woman soon left him on the couch to go upstairs and store their things. Now that the ball was over, they could get rid of their pinchy heels and remove their jewelry before heading to bed. Quentin was about to go join them after his nerves had settled before the sound of the house phone ringing caught his attention. "I'll get it!" he called up the stairs before heading to pick up the call.

"Hello?" he grunted, a little curious. Who could be calling at this time of night?

"Dad?" a female voice replied, and Quentin's heart nearly stopped. "Is that you?"

"I'm sorry, I think you might have the wrong number—"

"No, Dad! It's me! It's Laurel!"

Quentin froze, and then a surge of rage coursed through him. A fucking scammer, seriously? How dare they! "Look, lady, I don't know who you are, but you have some nerve trying to impersonate my daughter like that and besmirch her memory!"

His piece said, he pulled the phone away and was about to hang up when the woman's voice came on again, "Sara had a stuffed shark when she was a kid and she still keeps it in her room."

Huh? "Have you been stalking us?" the detective demanded. "Because if you have, I'll have you know that I'm a detective for the SCPD and—"

"She also had this annoying canary she kept as a pet. It sang all the time, keeping us up all night until we finally convinced her to let us get rid of it. And me — you refused to let me join the police academy, said it was too dangerous. That's one of the reasons I started dreaming about becoming a lawyer instead. I was hoping to one day join the DA's Office, maybe even become the DA myself one day. Oh, and the day I met Ollie he punched out Paulie Marcus for calling me—"

Quentin paled with every word being spoken. There was no way, it couldn't be…

"…Laurel?"

There was a pause over the line, and the words that followed were watery. "Yeah, Daddy. It's me. I-I didn't die when the Gambit went down. I'm alive."

It was a miracle. A goddamn miracle. Quentin felt tears build in his eyes as he clutched the phone receiver tight, suddenly feeling more alive than he had in five years. "Baby, oh my baby," he cried. "Where are you?"

"I don't know," Laurel admitted over the line. "Not exactly, at least. But… I'm on a boat. They're taking me to the mainland." She swallowed. "I'm coming home."

That was it. The tipping point. Quentin felt himself break down into joyful sobs, having never felt so happy in his life. His little girl was alive, and she was coming home. He had never felt so blessed in his life.

"Quentin?"

His sobbing paused, and he turned to see his wife and other daughter staring at him in concern. "Quentin, what's wrong?" Dinah asked, stepping forward.

Quentin stared at them both, open-mouthed and silent, his tears sliding down his cheeks. Then, he went to the phone and turned on the speaker. He pulled the handset away and waited, and wasn't disappointed. "Dad?" Laurel's voice echoed through the now-silent living room. "Dad, where are you? Are you there?"

Both Dinah and Sara gasped at that voice. "Laurel?" Dinah asked, hopeful.

"Mom, is that you?"

A wail of happiness and relief escaped the older woman as she all but ran towards the phone, Sara hot on her heels. "Yes, baby, it's me!" she cried. "Laurel, oh Laurel!"

"I'm here too, Laurel!" Sara added, having also begun to cry.

"Sara! Oh, Sara!" They could hear Laurel sobbing over the line as well. "I'm alive, I'm alive. It's me, I promise it's really me. Just please, don't hang up!"

"We won't, honey, we won't," Quentin promised to her for all of them, still crying. God… thank you. Whatever, whoever allowed this to happen, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Laurel was alive. She was coming home. For the past five years, that was all Quentin had ever wanted, and now that it was finally here, he could safely he had never been happier in his entire life.

Notes:

And thus, we're finally here.

Laurel's home! And boy, a lot has changed in her absence. She's got a charity foundation named after her, for one, and I'm wondering how many of you saw that coming. Shiva offered to train her, but she said no — for now, at least. I won't say more on that front.

Her alibi for BC has been fully established as well, which means that it's going to be very hard for anyone to connect her to BC, putting her completely in the clear. She found the remnants of Shadowspire's little operation, and that will play a role later on since she wasn't there to interfere with that particular mess. And now, she's home.

This means we can now move on to Season 1. Whenever I get around to that. You'll just have to wait a while for that.

Until then, I hoped you enjoyed my depiction of this AU. Please, remember to update the TV Tropes page!

Chapter 35: Home

Summary:

After five long years, Dinah Laurel Lance finally returns home.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sara Lance had never felt so nervous in her entire life.

Never. Not while writing her senior thesis. Not while doing the MCAT. Not even when she almost got that DUI five years ago. All of those events had been nerve-wracking, but compared to now they were positively serene. At least with the former two, she had months of preparation, and with the latter, she had a cop father who had loads of favors to call on. She had been worried, but there was still a certainty to the situation, the subconscious knowledge that in the back of her mind that everything was going to be alright.

The same couldn't be said with this. This time, Sara was going in blind, as were her parents. They had, at most, a week to prepare for this. But if Sara was being honest with herself, nothing could ever really prepare them for what was waiting for them on the other side of those doors.

Laurel.

Laurel was alive.

Even just thinking about it made Sara want to burst into tears of joy. Her wildest, most desperate dream had, against all the odds, come true. Laurel was alive, and she was home, and finally, finally their family was going to be whole again. Dad had called it a miracle, and he was right.

Of course, intellectually Sara knew that there was more to it than that, that integrating Laurel back into their lives wasn't going to be easy. So much had changed during the five years she was gone, so much that she would have to navigate. And that wasn't even accounting for the changes Laurel herself had undergone during her time away.

"Several puncture wounds, multiple broken bones, many of which were not allowed to heal properly, and she has scars from what seem to be several large cuts and a few burns," the doctor — Dr. Lamb, arguably the best primary care physician in the city — continued to list out, a report given to them at her sister's insistence. He had been contacted to handle Laurel's initial examination upon her return to the city at the behest of the Queens, who had him on retainer. Moira Queen herself had insisted they use his services, stating she would handle any extra fees.

It made her think back to when the Queens had found out about Laurel's survival. Sara had gone to the mansion personally to inform them and had luckily walked in on one of Tommy's visits, meaning she didn't have to make a second trip to tell him as well. They had been just as overjoyed as Sara's own family had been, even if the mood had been dampened slightly by Laurel's confirmation that Robert hadn't survived the sinking of the Gambit. Oliver in particular had been rather tearful, and he had taken out that old picture Laurel had given him and stared at it, muttering constant 'thank you's under his breath. His mother, meanwhile, had made a few calls and called in a few favors to expedite Laurel's return, in addition to loaning Dr. Lamb to them. "The least I could do," she had said.

"I can take a look at the medical report later," Sara offered once it became clear that her parents couldn't bear to hear what kind of pain their eldest daughter had gone through the five years she was gone any longer. It would be hard for her too, but Sara was a second-year med student — she knew how to compartmentalize.

Dr. Lamb nodded to her, filing the report back into the folder in his arms. Mom swallowed, clutching Dad's hand. "Has she said anything about what happened while she was gone?" Dinah asked.

The good doctor shook his head. "Not a word," he admitted. "But whatever she underwent was clearly traumatic. I'll warn you of this now — the Laurel you lost might not be the one here, now. You should prepare yourselves."

They were allowed inside soon after. It took a moment for Sara to recognize her sister — Laurel's hair was no longer the dyed brunette it had been before the Gambit, but back to its natural honey blonde. It only made sense, it's not like Laurel had access to any dye on the island, but it was still strange to see.

"Laurel?"

She turned around, and Sara sucked in a breath. A certain weight was on her sister's shoulders, one that wasn't there before. Laurel always took on too much responsibility for herself, but now it looked like the entire world was bearing down on her head. Yet when she saw them, her expression brightened, and the world stopped.

Nobody said anything. One minute, they were mere feet apart, and the next, Laurel was buried in their parents' arms, the three of them clutching at each other like lifelines. Dad had one of his hands buried into her hair, murmuring something that Sara couldn't hear. Mom was shaking.

Sara kept away, allowing them to have this moment. She'd get hers soon enough.

When they were done, Mom and Dad stepped away, allowing Sara to get a clear view of her sister again. Laurel had been in the middle of wiping away her tears when she saw Sara, and then she started crying all over again. Sara started crying too, as she threw herself at her sister and tried to breathe in her scent.

Laurel's embrace was warm and comforting and oh-so-familiar even after so many years apart. If it were possible, Sara would never leave it again. She'd just hold onto her sister, day after day, and revel in the fact that she was alive.

But, alas, reality crashed in. Laurel gently pulled away and cupped her face. "You've grown up, Sara-bear."

Sara sniffled, and burst into tears again.


"Mr. Queen—Robert, managed to grab me before the yacht completely capsized and pull me onto one of the lifeboats with him and his bodyguard, Dave Hackett. As far as I know, we three were the only ones to escape in time. We drifted for about a day or so in the raft while waiting for the storm to subside, and then…" Laurel trailed off, then swallowed.

Dinah put a comforting hand on her eldest's knee. The four of them were still in Laurel's hospital room, listening to her tell the story about how she survived. Dr. Lamb was in the process of getting her discharged, so they weren't in a rush to leave just yet.

"You don't have to continue, baby," Quentin reassured her softly.

Laurel shook her head. "It's not that. I'll tell you soon. It's just that… I think the Queens should be here when I tell the rest."

Sara felt her stomach sink at those words, as the mood in the room dampened. They already knew that Mr. Queen hadn't survived the shipwreck, that no one else had. That had been one of the first questions Laurel had been asked once they found out she was alive—an unpleasant but necessary one, to give their friends closure. But judging by the grimace on her sister's face, there was more to the story than what she told them on the phone, and whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant.

"Well," she said instead, trying to change the subject, "you'll be seeing them—and Tommy—soon, if that's alright with you. We're having a small welcome-back dinner with them at their mansion tonight."

A blink. "I don't mind, but why aren't we going home?"

Dad grimaced. "We would, but some paps have been hanging around the house lately waiting to get pictures of you. Luke's doing us a solid and trying to clear the place out, but he needs more time before he can give us the all-clear."

"Wouldn't paparazzi be hanging around the Queen estate too, though?"

"Yeah, but they got gates," he pointed out, and Laurel giggled. It made him smile.

"They're very eager to see you again, dear," Mom added, rubbing circles on Laurel's back.

"Including Ollie?" she asked, biting the corner of her lip nervously. Her hand idly fingered the Canary necklace around her neck, a gesture everyone noticed immediately.

"Especially Ollie," Sara said, taking in the way Laurel's face flushed with no small amount of amusement and fondness.

Some things never changed. Sara was glad that this was one of them.


After Laurel was discharged, they left through the back entrance to avoid the loads of reporters hanging around the front entrance. Being vultures, a few of them were hanging around in the back too, and managed to snap a few pictures before they could get into the car and pull out of the parking lot. Sara tried not to take it too badly—in a few weeks, Laurel's survival would be old news and they would move on.

Laurel watched the road through the window during the drive, completely silent. Sara supposed she was taking in any changes she'd noticed. Starling was a bustling, ever-growing metropolis, and while Sara would like to think the city hadn't changed that much in the last five years, she knew that wasn't true. There were always changes, she just wouldn't notice them because she had been living here for the last five years and going through her own transformation. That wasn't the case with Laurel. All of this, she was getting all at once.

They pulled up into the driveway of the Queen Mansion, where a valet was already waiting for them right outside the door. Quentin handed him the keys so he could park the car, while Sara rang the doorbell. The door opened, and instead of one of the footmen or Raisa on the other side, it was Oliver.

Sara smiled, imprinting his desperate anxiousness in her mind before stepping aside to reveal Laurel, who had been standing behind her. She observed as the two stared at each other, almost entranced. "You cut your hair," her sister suddenly blurted out, and Sara had to hold back a laugh.

Oliver had no reservations and chuckled, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "Yeah. Makes it easier to take care of," he explained.

Laurel grinned at that, and in the next moment they were hugging, Oliver's nose buried deep into Laurel's honey-blonde hair. In the last five years, Sara had never seen him so at peace. Not with her or Tommy, or even with Thea or his mother.

When they pulled away, Oliver's gaze dipped down, toward Laurel's Canary necklace rested. "You kept it," he noted, with a touch of awe.

"It was a piece of home," was Laurel's response.

Those words were loaded with so many implications. Oliver silently took out his wallet and opened up, and Sara knew he was showing her the picture of she gave him right before she went on the Gambit. The picture he had carried with him for these last five years. Laurel's eyes took on a particular shine, and she reached over to take his hand and squeeze it.

Then Dad had to politely clear his throat and break the moment, and Sara had to resist the urge to glare at him. Oliver and Laurel finally remembered there were other people present and pulled their hands away, the former snapping his wallet shut and pocketing it back into his pants. "Right," he said, trying not to blush. "Let's get you inside."


After another round of reunions with Tommy, Thea, Moira, and even Raisa, all of them were seated at the Queens' long-ass dining table for dinner. Sara, being the diligent med student she was, had grilled her old nutritionary science professor on what kind of diet her sister should be on after being stuck on a barren island in the middle of the North China Sea. He had advised a diet of organic meals, using food with minimal to nonexistent amounts of preservatives and additives. Sara had passed on this information to the Queens so Raisa was aware, and then rapidly rewrote her family's latest grocery shopping list to accommodate the new recipes she had printed out for her dad to use.

Judging by the brief flash of relief in Laurel's eyes when she saw the spread and the fact that she was eating her food, Sara's hard work had paid off. She congratulated herself with an imaginary pat on the back and watched as Tommy tried to draw Laurel into a conversation. He was telling her about all the things she had missed while she was gone, from Obama to the ending of Lost. Knowing her sister wouldn't care about any of that (except for probably the Obama thing, Laurel always did her best to keep abreast of politics), Sara felt it was her sisterly duty to interject. "You also missed the last three Harry Potter movies," she added, right after Tommy finished.

Laurel blinked. "Really?" she said, sounding genuinely surprised. "But they had just finished the fifth one before I left. There should've only been two more."

"They split the last book into two movies," Sara informed her helpfully. "There was just too much material to cover in one. If you want, we can have the movie night and watch them together."

"I'd like that," Laurel responded, smiling.

"What was it like there?"

An awkward pause. Sara bit the inside of her cheek, as Thea blanched. At least she realized her mistake, not that it mattered anymore.

Laurel's smile turned a little thin.

"Cold and wet," she said after a moment. "A lot of rain. Boring, to be honest."

There was another pause. Thea was cringing, and everyone was looking everywhere but Laurel. Sara took her fork and speared a piece of seasoned asparagus.

"What about all of you?" Sara's sister continued. "What you've been up to?"

The tension in the room dropped with the change in subject. Oliver was the first of them to bite, eager to make up for his little sister's blunder. "I went back to college," he revealed. "Just finished my undergrad in business, with a minor in engineering. A few months ago, I started attending the Michael G. Foster School of Business for my MBA."

"Really? Oh my God, Ollie, that's amazing!"

"Thanks, Laurel," Oliver said, blushing.

Laurel reached over and patted him on the hand before turning to Sara. "What about you, Sara-bear?"

Her turn, then. "I'm in my third year of med school, down at the University of Washington."

Her sister gasped. "That's wonderful, Sara! Have you decided on a specialty yet?"

"Not really," Sara told her, wringing her hands together. "I'm torn between pediatrics or primary care."

"Well, whatever you choose, I'm sure you'll do well," Laurel asserted. "I'm so proud of you, little sister."

Sara puffed up at those words. Everyone had always told her that Laurel would be proud of her for her accomplishments, but seeing and hearing it firsthand was a different thing entirely. Her entire being was flooded with warmth, and she didn't want it to end.

"And you, Tommy?" she asked, turning to the last member of their little group.

Tommy shrugged. "Still enjoying the life of a jobless bachelor and trust fund baby, though I spend my free time volunteering."

"Oh?" Laurel perked up. "Where?"

He shared a look with Sara and Oliver, then turned back to Laurel. "How about we show you tomorrow?" he suggested. "The four of us, we'll go out to town, just like old times. If you're okay with that." He added the last part nervously as if just remembering it.

There was a flash of confusion on Laurel's face, but in a blink, it was gone. "Sure, Tommy. I would love that."


After dinner concluded, Dad got a call from Hilton, telling them that the coast was clear back home. Before they could leave, however, Laurel insisted they stay a little bit longer. "I have something to tell all of you," she said anxiously. "My resurrection hearing is next week, and I'll need to testify about what happened to me. And since I can't perjure myself, I'll have to tell them everything. Including what happened to… Robert."

Everyone fell silent upon hearing that. "I want to tell you what happened now," Laurel explained, "so you don't have to learn about it from some tabloid."

Well, that was as good a reason as any. Sara watched as Moira tried to order Thea upstairs, but the teenager refused to budge. "He was my dad. I deserve to know how he died," she insisted.

So that was how all of them were gathered in the Queens' living room, nervously waiting for Laurel to begin. Their parents and Sara were on one side of her sister, the latter holding her hand. Oliver was on the other side, with his mother and sister close next to him, with Tommy bringing up the rear as extra support for Thea.

"When the Gambit sank, I was in my cabin at the time," Laurel began, her voice breathy and far away. "I nearly washed out to sea and almost drowned, but Robert managed to grab me before I could and pull me into one of the lifeboats with him and Dave Hackett."

"He helped me put on my life vest and helped me warm up while we waited out the storm. After it was over, we just… drifted there, for I don't know how long. Hours, days, it just all blurred away. Our supplies slowly dwindled, and eventually, I guess he saw something wrong with me because he started repeatedly telling me that I needed to survive and get home."

"All I told him in return is that he need to rest. We couldn't do anything about our situation, and I wasn't in any position to think about much else. It was all just too much at the time. And—I don't know what, but that seemed to wake up something in him. Or maybe he had been thinking about this for a while, and that was what made him act."

She was breathing hard now, her pupils dilating. A traumatic response. Sara squeezed her hand. "Laurel, if you can't continue—"

"No, no," Laurel cut her off before she could finish. "I'm fine. I just… I just need a moment."

They gave her a moment. Laurel screwed her eyes closed, breathed out, and then continued.

"He had a gun," she revealed, turning to the Queens, and there was a sharp inhale. "It was strapped in his jacket. He got it out, and he—he shot Hackett, letting his body fall into the sea. And then he turned to me, and he told me to tell all of you that he loved you. He told me to survive, and then—then—"

Laurel choked out a sob, burying her face in her hands. The Queens were frozen, and the realization hit, and they were crying too. There wasn't a dry eye in the room as the grief hit them full force. Sara put an arm around Laurel as she felt her parents reach over to pull them both into a group hug.

"I'm sorry," Laurel told the Queens a half-hour later, once they all managed to regain some semblance of control. "If I hadn't been on that boat—"

"No, Laurel," Oliver cut her off, taking her hand. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't cause the boat to sink, and D-Dad… he made his choice."

"But—"

"But nothing, Laurel. The last thing I made him promise me before you guys left was that he'd take care of you while you were gone. He's the one who chose to keep his promise."

"Oliver's right, Laurel," Moira said next to her son, her daughter nodding tearfully beside her. "You aren't to blame for what happened."

"They're right, Laurl," Tommy asserted, firm. "Listen to them."

Laurel stared at them all, red-eyed and in complete disbelief, before giving them a nod. She looked down, and Sara saw a small bit of that weight leave her shoulders. Something in Sara's heart loosened—her sister had been carrying that burden for five years. It must've been a relief to finally be able to let it go.

"Did Dave Hackett have any family?" she asked, after another moment of silence. "If he does, I'd like to speak to them as well. I don't want them to get blindsided either."

"He has a son named Sam," revealed Moira. "I'll get you the address and have it sent to you tomorrow."

"Thank you, Mrs. Queen."

Moira smiled sadly. "Feel free to call me Moira, dear." She hesitated, then, "I know this is hard, but could you tell me what happened to Robert's body?"

"I buried him on the island, alongside another friend of mine. If you want the location, I can give it to you. He has a marker for his grave."

Sara's brow furrowed, and from the corner of her eye, she saw her parents frown. So Laurel hadn't been alone on the island? She hadn't mentioned that, though Sara supposed she hadn't wanted to. They should've expected as much after that brief snippet of the medical report that Dr. Lamb gave them. Even accounting for treacherous terrain, all the injuries Laurel received couldn't have been from self-inflicted accidents. Something to file away for later.

"Thank you, Laurel. I'll send someone to collect his remains so he can have a proper burial and memorial here," Moira decided, seemingly oblivious to the thoughts running through the Lances' minds. "You are, of course, invited to attend. All of you."

"Of course, Moira," Dad answered for all of them. "It's the least of what we owe him."

With that settled, it was time for them to leave. Tommy finalized their plans for tomorrow before letting them go. Sara slipped her hand into her sister's and intertwined their fingers together, as they waited for the valet to return with their car.

For the first time in five years, they were going home together.

Notes:

Finally, the start of Season 1. I've already finished the first eleven or so chapters of this season a while ago, I just held off on editing them until now because I just got back from vacation. Been trying to get rid of the jet lag for the last week or so.

But I've been feeling better now, so here's the first chapter. Updates will be weekly on Sunday this time around, that way I don't have to worry about this during work. Please comment and let me know what you think.

Chapter 36: A Familiar Place

Summary:

Laurel tries to settle into a new normal.

Notes:

I am so sorry this is late, everyone. I forgot to edit last week's chapter because of the long weekend (my job gave me both Thursday and Friday off work).

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When the Lances pulled up to their family home (a sight that filled Laurel with a nostalgic ache that proved hard to dislodge), they found the area free of the various paparazzi and reporters that had been congregating around the Queen Estate's gates. A police cruiser was sitting in the driveway, and leaning against the front render was another familiar face: Detective Lucas Hilton, her father's longtime police partner, and a close family friend. He perked up when he saw their vehicle pull into view, and when Laurel stepped out, his smile bloomed into a full-blown grin.

"Laurel," he breathed out, pulling her into a hug. "It's so good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Uncle Luke," Laurel replied as she hugged back, instinctively slipping into the childhood nickname with nary a thought. "How have you been?"

Hilton pulled away and shrugged. "Same old, same old: keeping your dad out of trouble."

Laurel giggled, ignoring the mock-offended sound her father let out behind her. The detective patted her on the shoulder. "You should visit the precinct sometime soon," he suggested. "Pike and a few others would love to see you again."

"I will," she promised.

Satisfied, Hilton turned to her father. The men exchanged a few words and a one-armed hug, followed by Hilton giving a short greeting to Dinah and Sara. That settled, he pulled into his cruiser and left, finally leaving the Lances by themselves.

The rest of the family guided Laurel into the house, with Dinah giving her own set of keys, copies to replace those she had taken with her on the Gambit. Laurel took off her shoes and placed them in the old shoe rack, before looking around. Some of the furniture had been rearranged, and there were a few new decorations, but for the most part, the house looked almost the same as it had when she left all those years ago.

She didn't know how to feel about that. She did know how she felt about the additional pictures added to the wall, including one of Sara's undergrad graduation. The ever-present vise around her heart tightened, and Laurel determinedly refused to look at the rest of the pictures. She could torture herself with all she missed later.

Instead, she focused on the practicalities. Quentin and Sara had some last-minute work they needed to finish when they both returned from leave, so Dinah took her upstairs and brought her to her room. "It exactly as you left it," she explained. "We didn't have the heart to change a thing."

Looking around, Laurel concluded that her mother was telling the truth. The room had been tidied up a bit so there was no dust and things were a little more organized, but other than that, it was the same as it had been in Laurel's vague memories. Textbooks, dog-eared LSAT study guides, posters of boy bands, TV shows, and movies, all things she hadn't thought about in a long time, if only because she hadn't had the luxury to. She would have to do some redecorating soon, if only so she wouldn't feel so out of place.

The only thing that stood out as new were the stacks of clothes for her on the bed, neatly folded for her perusal. Shirts, pants, sweaters, jackets, underwear—it was practically an entirely new wardrobe. Laurel turned to her mother questioningly, and the older woman cleared her throat. "We realized a lot of your old clothing might not fit, so your sister and I asked for your new measurements from the hospital and went shopping. We can donate your old clothes later, and if there's anything you don't like from the new ones, we can return it."

"This couldn't be cheap," Laurel mused, picking up a pajama shirt, her fingers slowly thrumming the material between them.

"Don't worry," her mother assured her. "Moira paid for most of it. I offered to pay her back with some of the money from my old trust fund, but she refused, saying that she had more than enough money to spare. Consider it a gift."

Laurel smiled. "I'll need to thank her when I see her again. And thank you as well, Mom—you and Sara. This couldn't have been easy."

Dinah patted her on the shoulder. "Think nothing of it, dear. We were more than happy to do it."

She planted a chaste kiss on Laurel's cheek. "Now why don't you get some rest? It's been a long day."

"I will," Laurel promised.

Satisfied, Dinah departed with some short instructions about the bathroom she shared with Sara—they had also bought Laurel some new toiletries as well, including a toothbrush. It wasn't long before Laurel was left alone inside her own room, and she let out a sigh as she gave it another once over.

"Well," she said, almost exhaustingly. "I'm home."


Back in the Queen Mansion, a worn Moira Queen was nursing a drink in her home office. The night had been a whirlwind of emotions, as the high of Laurel's return had been combined with the low of learning what Robert's last moments had been. Thea and Oliver had decided to spend the rest of the night before the former had to go to bed watching an old movie together, to help them keep their minds off their father. Moira had briefly joined them but had bowed out early under the excuse of work. In a way, it was true.

The last thing she wanted to do tonight was make this call, but she dreaded the consequences if she didn't. So with great reluctance and more than a little procrastination, Moira took out her cell phone and dialed Malcolm's number.

The man picked up right before the dial tone, and for a brief moment, Moira wondered if it was one of his stupidly petty power plays. "Hello, Moira," Malcolm greeted her calmly. "How was dinner?"

"She doesn't know anything," Moira said, biting back a cutting remark and getting straight to the point. "So I'm calling off the kidnapping and the interrogation. There's no longer any need."

"How can you be certain? You haven't seen the girl in five years, and before she left, she was planning on becoming a lawyer. Everyone knows lying is part of the job description."

"Because before she and her family left, she gathered us in the living room to tell us how Robert died so we didn't have to hear it from the press coverage of her resurrection hearing. Nothing in what she said indicates he told her anything."

"Oh?" Malcolm asked, sounding almost sympathetic. "I see. Could you explain what happened?" There was a curiosity, almost a yearning in his voice, but Moira could hear the accusation beneath it. She bit the inside of her cheek. Patience, patience.

"He made it to the life raft with Laurel and his bodyguard Dave Hackett," Moira explained, almost grinding her teeth, "but once it became clear that there were only enough supplies for one of them to survive, he killed Hackett and himself so she could live. According to Laurel, the only thing he told her before he died was to survive and to tell us, his family, that he loved us."

"I see. At least it was dignified," Malcolm complimented, sounding genuinely pained. Moira was dangerously close to drawing blood from her lip.

Then there was a pause, one where she could practically hear Malcolm narrow his eyes. "And again—how are you sure she isn't lying?"

"Because she was in tears while telling us! I don't know how much more I can give you, Malcolm—I can't read minds, and have no intention of traumatizing Laurel further. She's been through enough," insisted Moira, clutching her phone so hard she might very well break it. "Besides, even if that poor girl did know something, what could she do? She was stuck on an island for five years trying to survive and is now trying to relearn how to be a part of civilization again. She has no resources or connections, no money whatsoever. She's not a threat."

He fell silent at those words, and momentarily Moira feared she had overstepped. But then, "You're right," he said begrudgingly. "Even if she does know something, there's nothing she can do about it. We'll leave her alone and revisit her situation later if it becomes a concern."

The Queen Matriarch exhaled deeply at those words. Laurel was safe. She wouldn't have to break Oliver's heart a second time.

"We've got bigger concerns," Malcolm continued, "The Black Canary has hit another one of our associates."

Now it was Moira's turn to go quiet. The Black Canary—a name frequently buoyed about at Tempest meetings in recent months. Ever since the vigilante had debuted on national television a year and a half ago, she had been taking the country by storm. For a whole year, she seemed to pop up in a random city every other week, taking down many of their local criminals. Her targets were indiscriminate, and no one was spared: common muggers, mafia enforcers, and even corrupt one-percenters, not unlike those Tempest once blackmailed using the List.

Her crusade had been inspiring, if not a bit disturbing. While the results were undeniable, they were achieved through subverting the law and putting violent, near-crippling beatdowns on her enemies. Entire hospital wings were filled with her victims, their last stop right before they went to jail.

When she appeared in Starling six months ago, they had expected much the same, so Malcolm had originally ordered her left alone. They would wait her out and let her take out some of the refuse before letting go on her merry way to wherever her next target was. A sound plan, one that had promptly gone to crap when a whole month passed and the Black Canary had failed to do what she had done so many times before and leave.

For whatever reason, she seemed to think that this particular city needed more of her attention than the rest of them did. She had stuck around, mostly around the Glades, taking it to gangs, organized crime, and even the occasional white-collar criminal, many of whom were on the List. It wasn't a complete wash, as it turned out many of them were trying to branch out into the more affluent parts of the city (necessitating a reminder from Malcolm's enforcer that this was something they weren't allowed to do). But still, it was a… concern.

"The longer she operates, the higher the likelihood one of those fools will let something slip about Tempest, the Undertaking, or both. And a righteous, close-minded woman like her is unlikely to agree with our ideology," Malcolm monologued, words methodical and dark.

Moira swallowed. "So what do you suggest? We find some way to remove her from the playing board?"

A pause. "Not yet," the man decided. "If we make an attempt and it fails, she might become suspicious. We leave her alone for now, so she's not causing any real damage to our plans. But if she proves to be a threat…"

The words hung in the air, but the implication was clear. If the Black Canary became a real threat to the Undertaking, Malcolm would deal with her as he had with so many before and send his associate. And whatever the end result, it wouldn't be pretty.

"Very well," Moira finally said. "If that is what you believe is best, then I will support your decision. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

"No. You?"

"Just one thing. Laurel gave me the location of where she buried Robert's remains, and I plan on sending someone to collect them so we can have a proper funeral for him. Since you were his 'best friend', you'll have to make an appearance at the ceremony."

"Just give me the date, and I'll clear my schedule," Malcolm replied flippantly. "If that is all, then we can end this call. I have work to do."

"Goodbye, Malcolm," Moira droned.

He didn't bother responding. The call cut off, and Moira sighed in relief. She loosened her grip on her phone and set it down on her desk, before picking up her glass of wine and taking a sip. God, she was going to need a shower after this.

Moira hadn't been lying when she said she didn't blame Laurel for Robert's death. She already had someone to blame. But he was far too powerful a man to bring to any sort of justice, so she would have to continue the same existence she had lived these past five years—under his thumb.


The Next Day

Laurel ambled down the stairs in her new pajamas, her hair mussed up and bags under her eyes, yawning. She walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Near the stove watching her was a smiling Quentin, already dressed and with an apron on. "When you're done, I've got breakfast for you: your favorite chocolate chip pancakes."

"Oh," Laurel blinked, turning to him. "How much?"

"Not a lot. Sara and Dr. Lamb told me that you might not be able to handle a lot of processed sugar anymore. But two pancakes and a bit of whipped cream and syrup shouldn't hurt."

She smiled. "Thanks, Dad."


Dinah and Sara joined them not long after that, and for the first time in five years, the Lances were having a family meal together. Laurel tried to focus on her sweet, sweet pancakes, but years of situational awareness training made it impossible for her not to notice how every member of her family looked up from their own food every two minutes to stare at her. Sara looked ready to burst into tears, and Laurel tried not to show how uncomfortable that made her. It's not that she didn't feel the same way, it was just that she had the training to keep it under control.

"So, what are you doing today?" Quentin asked casually.

"Tommy texted me," Sara revealed. "He and Ollie are going to pick Laurel and me up for a day out on town at ten."

Dinah suddenly hissed. "We need to get you a phone as soon as possible," she realized, her words directed toward Laurel. "And put you on the family plan. Do you think we can get your old number?"

Her husband grunted. "Only if it isn't already reassigned to someone else. If it is, she'll have to get a new one."

Laurel flinched. She did not mention she already had a phone, even if it was only for "work"-related purposes. "Okay. Should we schedule an appointment at the store?"

"I'll put it on my to-do list today. We can go on Saturday when I don't have classes."

That's how Laurel learned her parents still had work for the rest of the week. They couldn't afford to take more time off—money was a little tight because Sara was still in med school and this country was for-profit as it came, and while they were grateful Laurel was back, that didn't change the reality that money was only going to get tighter. Every cent counted.

At least they would be able to attend her resurrection hearing. Both them and Sara, who had managed to every day up to the hearing off. She would have to go back to med school right after, though.

"After I'm resurrected, I'm going to study up to retake the driver's license exam and start searching for a job," was what Laurel told them when they asked her what she was going to do once she had fully settled back in.

The table quieted down a bit. "So I guess you're not going to law school anymore," Quentin grunted, sounding sad but resigned. It seemed that they had been expecting this conclusion, even if they hadn't wanted to hear it.

"Are you sure, honey?" Dinah asked her eldest daughter. "If this is about the money—"

Laurel shook her head, cutting her mother off. "It's not about the money. I wanted to be a lawyer because I wanted to help people. And I've had five years to think about how I would do that when I came home. And now that I'm here, I've realized that I don't want to wait and attend school for three years to start doing that. I want to do that now."

Her family exchanged looks. "Alright, Laurel, if that's what you want," Quentin decided, speaking for all of them. "Do you have any idea what you want to do?"

"I was thinking of going into charity work, or becoming a self-defense instructor."

Everyone blinked at her when she mentioned the latter occupation. "Self-defense?" Sara asked, sounding confused.

"I still remember the things I learned from the lessons you got for us Dad and some friends on the island taught me a few things of their own so I could protect myself in case something happened," Laurel explained, trying to sound as vague as possible. "They're gone now, but the lessons stuck. It only feels right that I pass that knowledge on, so others can use it to protect themselves."

And just like that, their expressions shuttered and softened. No doubt, they had taken the hint that there were people on the island that she had befriended and lost. Laurel hated manipulating them like that, but if that were what it took to keep them from probing too much, she'd take it. It wasn't like hating herself was a new thing, after all.

"If that's the case, then you really do need to come with Tommy, Ollie, and me today," declared her little sister once the awkward moment had passed. "There's somewhere we need to bring you and show you. I think you're going to like it."

Their parents nodded in agreement, and Laurel frowned, perplexed, before shrugging. "Alright. Then could you help me pick out my outfit, Sara? I don't know what's in style anymore."

Sara immediately perked up. "I've got just the thing," she said, a terrifying glint in her eyes.

Laurel wondered if she should start fearing for her life.

Instead, she returned to her chocolate chip pancakes.

Notes:

Here is the next chapter. We get a look at how Laurel is adjusting, and of course, Malcolm is as creepy and dickish as ever.

As for the changes, there is no kidnapping this time around, because Laurel told the Queens about the truth of Robert's death and made her trauma much more obvious than Oliver did at the beginning in canon. In addition, Moira feels extra guilty about Laurel being on the Gambit since she legitimately had nothing to do with the situation that led to its sinking (even Oliver was at least Robert and Moira's son, so he was tangentially involved, no matter how distantly), so she decided not to go through with it and told Malcolm to back off. Plus, as she pointed out, Laurel (by herself) is not a threat. She's (allegedly) been stranded on an island for the last five years and is from a middle class family. She has no money and connections, so even if she did know the truth, there would be nothing she'd be able to do about it. At least, as far as they are aware...

Next Chapter: Laurel goes around Starling.

Chapter 37: The Foundation

Summary:

Laurel receives a surprise.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The boys arrived in one of Tommy's cars, the newest model of some designer label that Laurel hadn't bothered to memorize even before the Gambit. What mattered was that it was large enough to fit all four of them comfortably and that Tommy had no intention of breaking the speed limit using it (on pain of death from Sara). One life-changing accident was more than enough for one lifetime, thank you very much.

"We're heading to the Glades first," Oliver explained as Tommy pulled out of the Lance driveway. "That's where the place we want to show you is. After that, we'll head over to the Palm for lunch—my family still has that standing reservation, and I've already called to tell them we're coming over. Then, if you're still up for it, we'll head to the theater to watch a movie. There's a new comedy out that Sara thinks you'll like, but they're also doing a special showing of the Avengers movie if you want to watch that, instead."

"I'm sure I'll enjoy whatever you all choose for me," Laurel replied diplomatically. She had heard about the Marvel movies, vaguely, during her cross-country road trip while on a four-way video call with Babs, Jason, and Dick, but hadn't bothered watching one. It was important to keep a low profile, which meant not being careless and spotted by security cameras just because she couldn't wait to watch a movie on DVD in three months. Her fellow vigilantes had enjoyed them, however, so they couldn't be that bad.

The drive through the Glades was filled with chatter, and it went through one ear and out the other. Laurel made sure to chime in at all the right places during the conversation, but most of her attention was focused on the passing streets. She hadn't ventured into the Glades often, her father wouldn't allow her to, but she had seen enough to know that things were… bad. It was the poorest neighborhood in Starling for a reason. But there was a difference between bad, and, well, this.

"Has it always been this bad?" she asked.

Sara grimaced. "No. It's gotten worse these past five years. Things are getting more expensive, the poverty line has risen, and the disparity between the wealthy, and, well, everyone else is growing."

"And local government?"

Her little sister winced, and Laurel's frown deepened. Bruce had sent over a file detailing the corruption within Starling, highlighting two individuals in particular: Police Commissioner Brian Nudocerdo, and District Attorney Kate Spencer. The former was no surprise, Laurel had heard enough of her father's gripes over the years to be tangentially aware of where Nudocerdo's inclinations lay, and having official confirmation hardly warranted a blink.

But Kate Spencer's was a punch in the gut. Back in her younger, more innocent days, Laurel had considered working for the DA's office in her neverending pursuit of "trying to save the world". Prosecuting criminals of all kinds and bringing the law down on their heads—there was a certain appeal to that even now.

But even if she had, she would've never gotten the chance. Apparently, Kate Spencer was on the take, and well-known to dismiss cases that inconvenienced the wealthy of the city. She was one of the main sources of that economic disparity that Sara had been talking about. The kind of disparity that led to the poor turning to crime, which led to the wealthy cracking down on the poor—a vicious cycle. If she needed any more proof that her efforts were better focused on her vigilante pursuits than spending three years pointlessly languishing in law school, this was it.

The car came to a sudden stop, and an excited Sara started tugging on her arm, urging her to exit. Laughing, Laurel followed her out the door and onto the street. They were in the middle of the Glades, though the area looked vaguely familiar. Laurel turned around, trying to find whatever it was they were here for—

And stared.

They were at QC's old steel mill, she realized. Except, instead of the abandoned factory Laurel had known it to be, the entire building had been renovated. The logo had been changed to a beautifully lacquered sign with "The Dinah Laurel Lance Foundation" etched into it in elaborate script. Laurel mouthed the words, genuinely astonished, before turning to her friends. "What's this about?"

Oliver rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, before launching into a story about a family called the Restons and how they had lost everything when Robert had closed down the factory and pivoted away from paying out their severance packages. That eventually led to Oliver realizing that he—all of them, really—could be doing more for this city. Which planted the seed for a charity foundation, one that could provide much-needed services to the poorer sections of the city.

"But why did you… you know…" Laurel couldn't even bring herself to say it out loud, instead gesturing to the sign.

Her ex(?) laughed awkwardly. "Because… you know… you always wanted to save the world. And we always thought that this was the kind of thing you would want to do."

Laurel blushed deeply at those words. "I'm sorry," she told them all, "I'm just a little overwhelmed. This is a lot."

The other three members of their group exchanged looks. Tommy suddenly clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "How about we go inside and show you what the foundation does?" he suggested.


The Dinah Laurel Lance Foundation—and Laurel had no idea how she was supposed to get used to that, why the hell hadn't Bruce and the others told her—provided various free and reduced-price services to the good people of Starling. They had food drives, blood drives, free tutoring (through willing volunteers from local schools and colleges), financial planning, and workshops for life skills, ranging from resume-building to cooking. In addition, they had partnered up with some of the already preexisting local outreach programs in the area, such as the Rebecca Merlyn clinic and the City Necessary Resource Initiative, which provided free legal aid to Starling's citizens.

When they went inside, they found it filled with both volunteers and patrons alike. The steel mill had been a big building and the founders had made sure to outfit it with everything they thought the people of the city, specifically the Glades, could need. Laurel could barely keep track of the number of people flittering through different rooms.

Almost immediately, they were met with one of their more frequent patrons, a man that Tommy introduced as Rene Ramirez, a navy veteran who worked odd jobs to support his wife and daughter. "My wife is a recovering drug addict," he explained to Laurel. "I had no idea how I was going to get her help until the foundation opened. Signed her up for their rehab program the first chance I got, and started going to the resume and interview workshops so I can find better-paying work."

Well, then, Laurel thought after he finished speaking. She was torn between blushing in embarassment and dissolving into a puddle of tears, and was grateful she had the self-control to refrain from doing both.

After Rene, they bumped into Thea. She was one of the volunteers for their tutoring program. Every Friday after school, she and her friends went down to the foundation and stayed until closing time, tutoring children, teens, and adults enrolled in the program. "Made a lot of friends this way," she told Laurel with a cheeky grin.

"Who's in charge of all of this?" Laurel asked after the teenager left, glancing over at her guides.

"We split the responsibilities," Tommy explained. "Though I do the lion's share because I have the most free time since Ollie and Sara are in grad school."

"Oh?" That was rather uncharacteristic of Tommy. "You enjoy working here?"

Tommy nodded. "It makes me useful, and it also helps keep my dad off my back. You know how he is, always demanding when I'm going to do something constructive with my life. Well, nothing's more constructive than this, right?"

Laurel arched an eyebrow. "I'm guessing your father is as cold as ever?"

"If not worse," her friend grunted resentfully.

She winced.


Besides Thea, there was another volunteer at the foundation Laurel recognized. It took all her training and self-control not to give the stink-eye to Barbara Gordon, CNRI's new Legal Librarian and the teacher for the foundation's tech workshops. She had also helped design their computer lab (complete with free wi-fi) and printing lab. Fast friends with Oliver, Sara, and Tommy, and Laurel was going to kill her later.

After a subtle wink and a shaken hand, Laurel asked if anyone knew of a gym nearby where she could work out regularly. "If they have a self-defense program, even better," she added. She needed information on how to get the necessary certifications to become a self-defense instructor.

"You should head down to Wildcat's, then," Rene suggested, having overheard the question from nearby. "It's a popular gym here in the Glades, one of the safest places in the neighborhood. I work out there myself."

"Do they have a licensed self-defense instructor?"

Rene nodded. "The owner, Ted Grant. He's a former champion boxer, and after he retired he opened up the gym here in the Glades so people could work out their issues without getting into some bad shit. He should be able to help you."

"Thanks, Rene," Laurel said, her expression thoughtful as she turned to her sister. "I'm going to need a new bus pass soon," she noted.

Sure, she was planning to get her driver's license as soon as possible, but the reality was that her family could only afford one car right now. And that car better served her mother and Sara, who had to travel far-off college campuses (one in an entirely different city) and regularly run errands. Laurel wasn't planning on leaving Starling anytime soon, didn't have a job, and the Glades weren't that far.

Besides, she already had alternative transportation prepped and hidden near the house. Not that anyone knew that, of course.

The perks of having a paranoid, crazy-prepared, billionaire of a mentor…


After they finished their tour of the Foundation, they drove to the Palm for lunch. Unsurprisingly, the maître d' had a private table waiting for them when they arrived, along with a selection of their favorite (non-alcoholic, because it was midday and one of them was driving) drinks and a carefully curated menu. Laurel's in particular was personalized to only include options with organic ingredients and minimized amounts of spice and other additives. She wondered if Oliver mentioned her dietary restrictions when making the reservation or if one of the spooky all-knowing restauranteurs who catered to Starling's elite pulled the information from the hospital to win favor with the Queens.

Once that thought ended and Laurel briefly contemplated the possibility she had learned too well under Bruce, lunch ended and she was whisked off to the theaters. Hours later, they were exiting the movie singing off-key to Pitch Perfect covers, and Laurel hadn't felt this relaxed in five years. That was probably what caused her to miss the conspiratory smiles Tommy and Sara exchanged before booking it to the car, leaving her and Oliver by their lonesome.

"They're unsubtle as ever," Laurel mused, doing her best not to show her nerves.

Oliver chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah. It's not their strong suit."

He cleared his throat, and there was a brief silence. Anxiousness emanated from them, the elephant in the room looming over them both. "So…" she started, trailing off.

"So," Oliver agreed. He swallowed. "There really wasn't anyone while you were gone."

"Same," Laurel blurted out before she could think it over. "I mean… there were other people, but they were only friends." Even though one of them really, really didn't want to be.

Another pause.

"I love you, Ollie," she breathed out, that impossible, swelling feeling in her chest finally finding an outlet after all these years of longing. Oliver smiled and took her hands and held them in his own.

"I love you too, Laurel," he replied earnestly.

She blushed and looked down. Oliver brushed a lock of hair from her face. "How do you want to do this, Laurel?"

Laurel swallowed. "I want to pick up where we left off," she admitted honestly, "but I know that we can't. So much time has passed, and we've both changed. I'm not ready to be in a relationship right now."

"Right," Oliver agreed. He looked tense.

"Is something wrong?"

He bit the corner of his lip. "There are some things I need to tell you," he told her, almost ominously. "Things you should know before we try to start anything."

The vigilante frowned. "Ollie, is something wrong?"

Oliver smiled sadly. "I don't deserve you, Laurel."

It was like having a bucket of water dumped over her head. Laurel knew that look. It was the sad, guilty expression Oliver wore whenever he had done something particularly stupid or selfish and only realized after the fact what a terrible idea was. The kind of face he wore when he was really sorry about something.

"Ollie," she said, carefully, "whatever you did, it doesn't matter. No matter where we go from this point forward, even if we don't become a couple again, you'll always be my best friend."

He squeezed her hand tightly at those words. "We need to talk," Oliver asserted. "Not now, but… soon."

"And we will. Once I've settled in a little bit more, we'll find a private place for just us and hash it out. But no matter what you say, my stance won't change: I'm always going to need you in my life, Ollie."

It was all that needed to be said. Oliver nodded one last time and pulled her into a hug. Laurel buried her head into his chest, and breathed.


"A free weekend and then back to the grind," Sara said, stretching her arms. Next to her, Laurel patted her on the shoulder.

Their night at the movies, Oliver and Tommy had dropped the sisters back home, where they watched another movie, this time Sara's copy of The Half-Blood Prince. Mom and Dad arrived home in that order somewhere through the third act, and it was another hour before dinner was prepped and ready to go.

"How was the Foundation, Laurel?" Dinah asked, curious.

"It was… good," Laurel replied, after a moment of thought. "A bit overwhelming, to be honest."

"I just hope the four of you were careful," Quentin said, frowning heavily. "The Glades are dangerous, especially now."

Sara glanced at him. "Something you need to tell us, Dad?"

He grimaced and grunted. "It's the mobs. They're acting up again. I can't give you any details, but you should probably up security down there for the next couple of months until things die down again."

Well, wasn't that something? Laurel wondered if it had something to do about the "Black Canary". Nobody had mentioned the vigilante around her yet, which was why she couldn't bring the subject up herself, but Laurel knew she had to be operating here in the city. After all, she was the one who had arranged her presence.

Something to deal with later tonight, when everyone was asleep.


The issue, as always, was Dad. Mom and Sara turned in not long after, while Dad, ever the workaholic, stayed up to work on some last-minute paperwork and review some old case files. Despite Dinah's ever-persistent wish to keep work away from home, nothing could stop Quentin Lance from hunting down a lead once it was in his grasp. A real dog with a bone, and that was why Laurel had to wait until he was asleep before making her move.

Finally, the telltale snap of his father turning off the lights in the hallway and the click of the bedroom door became her signal. Laurel's eyes snapped open, and she listened carefully to the bustling sounds in the master bedroom. When they died down to silence, Laurel slowly slipped out of her bed, making sure there was not so much as a creak. She stuffed her pillows under her duvet just in case, before taking out a slip of paper from under her sleeve, the note Barbara had discreetly handed to her half a day before. In a small, legible script were two addresses. The first one was at the corner of her neighborhood, and the latter smack dab in the Glades.

It was child's play sneaking out. If Sara could manage when she was a rebellious sixteen-year-old, then Laurel could manage as a twenty-six-year-old ex-master assassin and vigilante. She slipped out her window and climbed down the side of the house without triggering any of the alarms, before using the shadows of the streets to hide herself as she headed a few blocks down to the first address. When Laurel arrived, there was a large, abandoned shipping container sitting there, half-forgotten by the rest of the residents and far enough that none of them would be able to notice her presence.

There was a lock on the container, the only bit of it that looked new. Laurel looked around to make sure she was truly alone, before taking the lock and putting in the combination. The numbers had been inscribed on the back of the slip of paper, and Laurel had memorized them, repeating them under her breath until it was impossible to forget.

The lock opened, and Laurel pocketed it before pushing one of the doors. Almost immediately, a hatch made itself known, forming an opening big enough to let her inside. A handle popped out, and Laurel pulled on it, opening the hatch. Not a peep—Lucius Fox was a goddamn miracle worker.

She stepped inside, locking the hatch behind her, and the entire room illuminated.

A miniature base. A motorcycle, a small closet for her normal clothes, and most importantly, her Black Canary suit, complete with a mask. It was hanging on the side of the closet, looking as freshly cleaned and pressed as it was when she first got it. Perfect.

Laurel rolled her neck and put on her most determined expression.

It was time to get to work.

Notes:

Laurel gets reacquainted with Starling, learns about the foundation named after her memory (and God, that must be so embarrassing considering she wasn't dead), and gets some ominous words from Oliver. This should be the last of the setup chapters, and then we'll get on with the fun stuff.

Constructive criticism is welcome. Don't be afraid to comment or review.

Next Chapter: Laurel heads to her new vigilante base.

Chapter 38: The Clocktower

Summary:

Laurel heads to her new secret base.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The base Bruce had outfitted for her was an abandoned clocktower in one of the more derelict sections of the Glades, unimaginatively nicknamed "The Clocktower" (as expected of a man who allowed his eight-year-old ward to name his own secret base the "Bat-Cave"). Dressed as the Black Canary for the first time in six months, Laurel parked her new motorcycle in the underground garage of the newly-appropriated building and used the attached elevator to ascend to the hollowed-out turret clock.

When the elevator chimed open, she found herself at the top of the tower, retrofitted with all the best technology and equipment in the world, courtesy of Wayne Enterprises. Barbara was waiting inside, along with another familiar face: Selina Kyle, her stand-in as BC for the past several months. The older woman was dressed in regular old workout clothes, with that ever-present Cheshire grin.

"Birdie, welcome back," she greeted Laurel with a nod. Laurel nodded back, then turned to Barbara with a scowl.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Barbara was sanguine. "About what? Your ex-boyfriend, sister, and best friend opening up a charity foundation in your memory and naming it after you? Or me showing up in Starling as its newest resident to act as your tech support?"

"Both!"

The other woman shrugged. "The foundation thing didn't happen until you were back on Lian Yu, and we determined it would be less suspicious if your reaction was genuine," she explained.

Laurel gnashed her teeth. Ah yes, the ever-present Bat-pragmatism, and she hated to admit the logic was sound. If she had been told beforehand and had time to process it, it would've been hard to act surprised when it was time to see it in person. She would've been grateful and touched, not completely overwhelmed with emotion like earlier today.

"Fine, okay, method acting or whatever. What about you being here in Starling?"

She shrugged again. "Things are quiet back in Gotham now that the Joker is gone, and with Jay gelling with Bruce as the new Robin, Dick and I have decided it's time to spread our wings a bit."

"Wait, what?" Laurel blinked. "Dick's here too?"

"Nah. He's a stone's throw away in Bludhaven, setting up shop as a beat cop and their new resident vigilante," Babara explained, waving it off. "I considered moving over there with him, but with this whole Tempest conspiracy going on in Starling I figured you'd need me more and decided to move here instead."

Huh. "So he offered to let you move in with him?" suddenly asked Laurel, whose agitation gave way to knowing amusement. She glanced over at Selina, who was observing them with a certain casualness only a world-class thief who doubled as the part-time lover of the greatest vigilante in the world could maintain. There was a smirk on her face that held all the answers Laurel sought, and it only made her grin wider.

Barbara blushed, knowing she had been had. "We're dating," she admitted. "Have been for the last five months or so."

Laurel's grin gave way to a genuine smile. "Good. I'm happy for you both." She had watched them dance around each other for as long as she knew them, and she was glad they had finally taken the plunge.

"Yeah, well, expect me to take a few nights off for date night then. And also expect Dick to drop in occasionally. You know how he is—a real social butterfly."

They chatted for a bit more until Selina interjected and reminded them that she was eastward-bound for Gotham after tonight and wanted a decent spar before she left. Laurel took her up on the offer, knowing she needed some tuning up herself after six months on an island by herself. Barbara directed them to the sparring area, leaving them to it while she dialed in on some reports.

And just like that, Laurel never felt more at home.


"We've taken down a few Listers while you were on Lian Yu," was what Barbara started with when the other two women were done sparring and Selina had escaped from the Clocktower. "I'll pull them up on the screen for you."

Laurel looked up as a series of images and names populated the auxiliary flat-screen mounted on the side of the base. Adam Hunt, Justin Claybourne, James Midas… these were pretty big names, the kind Laurel had heard of (in less-than-glowing terms) long before she ever stepped foot on the Gambit. "You guys did good work."

"Selina will be happy to hear that. She had the time of her life robbing Hunt blind, even if she couldn't keep any of the money. And Claybourne was… ugh."

"That bad?"

"He's currently fighting off a terrorist charge for weaponized tuberculosis," the information broker deadpanned, and Laurel whistled. "I'm really hoping he's the worst on the List, but knowing our luck…"

She trailed off, but Laurel got the picture. "Who's next, then?"

Barbara replaced the pictures with new images. "Jason Brodeur. Peter Declan, the widower of one his employees, Camille Declan, was charged with her murder a few years ago and is up for execution soon. However, he swears he didn't do it. Says that Brodeur arranged to have her killed because she was going to blow the whistle on him."

"What for?"

"Dumping toxic waste in the Glades."

Laurel hissed. Not quite weaponized tuberculosis, but pretty close. "How'd she get caught?"

"She reported to her supervisor, Matt Istook, about the toxic waste the day she died. However, Istook testified at Declan's trial that he never met Camille that day."

Perjury. Of course. "He lied."

Barbara turned to her and nodded.

"I'll hit up Istook first," Laurel decided, putting her domino mask back on. She had taken it off for her spar with Selina, but now she was back on the clock. "Maybe he might have some kind of proof we can use to clear Declan's name. We'll take it to a news outlet or just post it to the Internet anonymously and arrange for it to go viral. That should be enough to at least delay the execution until we can nail Brodeur."

"Brodeur might try to kill Declan to silence him if that happens," Barbara mused. "You know, so the prosecution will have one less witness."

"If tries that, then we'll just nail him for that too," declared the vigilante as she turned to leave. "And that's if I don't stop him first."


The Following Day

"I do not want to be the detective handling this case."

Laurel popped up her head from her breakfast (plain old eggs and toast this time) to spot her father grimacing at the television screen. A hidden fission of pleasure ran through her body as she watched the local news rave about the report she had taken from Istook's office and had dutifully handed to Barbara to post on every major social media site on the Internet. A bit overboard, but it had worked.

Just then, a groaning Sara traipsed down the stairs, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. "What's going on?" she asked, elongating the last word with another yawn.

"Peter Declan might be innocent," Dinah explained, also riveted by the news.

That woke up Laurel's little sister. "Seriously?" She rushed to the couch, where the news was playing.

"Somebody found a compliance report written by Camille Declan before she was killed and anonymously posted it to the Internet. It's in the process of being officially verified, but analysis thus far it looks legit. If that's true…" Quentin winced. "Well, I'm glad I wasn't in charge of that investigation."

Laurel had a feeling the reason why her father hadn't been in charge of that particular investigation was because Brodeur called in a favor with Nudocerdo. Either that or sheer dumb luck managed to land him a detective who was on the take. Regardless, it was a bad look for the department and somebody was going to be raked over the coals for it. Laurel would pity them if their incompetence or corruption or whatever the hell it was hadn't almost gotten an innocent man killed.

They watched the news for a little bit longer, at least until Dinah decided that this was too stressful for a simple breakfast and asked for her husband to turn it off. Quentin obeyed with a grunt, audibly noting that he'd get all the nitty gritty details when he headed over to the precinct anyway.

"So, Laurel, what are you doing today?" Sara asked her as the meal began to die down. Nobody was available to hang out with Laurel today—Oliver and Sara were both catching up on their work for their upcoming return to grad school, while Tommy was volunteering at the Foundation.

"I'm going back down to the Glades," Laurel explained, noting how her father's frown deepened at those words. "I'm heading to the Foundation to visit Tommy and attend one of the workshops there so I can get started on my resume. Then I'm going to visit the gym Rene mentioned yesterday. I want to meet with the owner to consult him on what certifications I'll need to become a self-defense instructor, and, if I like the gym well enough, enroll myself in a membership once I have a job."

Quentin grunted again. "You're going to be spending a lot of time in the Glades," he observed. "Don't forget my warning."

If she hadn't been shipwrecked five years ago and believed dead, Laurel might've rolled her eyes. "I won't, Dad," she promised. "I'll be careful."


Tommy was in the middle of something when Laurel arrived at the Foundation but perked up when he saw her and greeted her with a smile. "Laurel! What are you doing here? I didn't expect another visit so soon."

"There's a resume workshop in about half an hour that I plan on attending," Laurel explained. "I want to start applying as soon as possible, and with everyone busy, I thought I might as well start today. Considering I won't be able to submit it anywhere until I'm formally resurrected by the courts, I'll have plenty of time to tweak it into something respectable."

Her friend nodded along, though there was a strange expression beginning to form that Laurel wasn't sure she liked. "Tommy?"

"How about this: instead of job-hunting at random charities, why don't you just work here at the Foundation?"

And there it was. "A bit morbid, don't you think?" Laurel pointed out, crossing her arms. "Working at a charity foundation created to honor my memory and named after me because all my loved ones thought I died in a tragic accident?"

Tommy waved her off. "We founded this place because we knew this was the kind of stuff you would've wanted to do. And now that you're here, alive and well—it only makes sense to do it with us, right?"

Now she had seen everything—Tommy Merlyn making actual sense, something Laurel only recognized because she was seriously contemplating the offer. On paper, the Foundation was the perfect choice: it was located in the Glades, near the Clocktower, she'd be working with Tommy and Thea regularly and Oliver and Sara less regularly, and it was the kind of work she wanted to be doing.

Still… "Is there even an open position for someone with my skillset?" Laurel asked, crossing her arms. She had been a history major with a minor in political science, perfect for law school but not much else outside of academia and politics.

"Actually, there is. We're looking for a Policy and Advocacy Coordinator—someone to help research laws, draft policies, organize events, keep track of the records, and more. I'm pretty sure that's right up your alley, Laurel."

Laurel blinked. It was, in fact, up her alley. Being a cop's daughter, she knew the law pretty well even without having attended law school, and her minor would help her form policies for the Foundation easily. "What are the hours?"

"Part-time. You'll have more than enough free time to study up for those self-defense certifications, whatever they are."

And that was the deciding factor. A part-time job was exactly what Laurel needed, to strike that ideal work-life balance with being a vigilante. It was everything she wanted, and Laurel was suspicious about how such a wonderful opportunity fell into her lap like this. But knowing Tommy, he'd never admit to it.

"Fine, but only if I go through the normal hiring process," Laurel insisted, pinning Tommy with a glare. "I'm serious, Merlyn—no favoritism whatsoever. If someone else applies and they turn out to be more qualified, they get the job. No exceptions."

Tommy held up his hand in surrender. "Hearing it loud and clear, Laurel. Neither myself nor Ollie or Sara will do anything to buck the process in your favor."

She glowered at him a little bit longer just to make sure he was sincere, before nodding in satisfaction. "Good. Now where is the workshop taking place? I brought one of my old college resumes as a starting point, and my old professors sent my parents recommendation letters before I touched down in Starling."

"At the computer lab. Here, I'll take you there."


Two hours of a resume workshop and an impromptu lunch in the soup kitchen later, Laurel took the bus again, this time to Wildcat Gym. The building was in good shape for something located in the Glades, and there were a lot of people inside, more than Laurel initially assumed there would be. She asked around for Ted Grant, and a young man in red pointed out an average-sized Hispanic man, who seemed to be a few years older than her.

"Ted Grant?"

Ted turned to her. "That's me. And you are…?"

"Laurel Lance," Laurel introduced herself. "I was told you're the owner of this gym."

"I am," Ted confirmed. "Laurel Lance… you're that girl who was shipwrecked with that billionaire a few years ago. The one that they named the Foundation after. What are you doing here?"

"Well, a lot of reasons. First, I'm looking for a place in the Glades to work out. I plan to get a job at one of the charity organizations down here and one of the patrons at the Foundation recommended your gym. Second," and here, she fished out a poster, "I was wondering if I could take you up on your offer."

It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, taking the poster. But once she thought it over, Laurel realized that it wasn't something she could really pass up. Boxing lessons might seem redundant for someone with her skillset but Laurel loved learning new martial arts. Not to mention, it would give her a regular sparring partner again. Babs couldn't spar often and Dick was in Bludhaven. This seemed like the perfect compromise.

"Is there a reason you want to learn boxing?" he asked her.

"When I was on the island, there were some people stranded there with me," Laurel explained. "They taught me a few things to help me survive, and I want to keep practicing them. I figure boxing will help with that, especially since I'm interested in becoming a self-defense instructor in the future. That's one of the reasons why I sought you out—I was told you were certified, and I'd like your advice."

The gym owner observed for a long moment. "Mind having a short spar with me?"

Surprised by the offer, Laurel slowly nodded. She set down her bag and took off her jacket before joining Ted in one of the nearby rings, ignoring how some of the other gym patrons were stopping what they were doing to watch. They each took a stance, and at Ted's nod, started exchanging blows and holds. Laurel did her best not to show off too much, not wanting to tip anyone off, but when Ted nearly got her in the jaw, she instinctively retaliated. Three seconds later, she had him knocked down and pinned to the canvas.

"Whoa," Ted breathed out, eyes wide.

"Oh my God!" Laurel exclaimed, quickly letting go and helping him get to his feet. "I'm so sorry about that. It was all instinct."

"Good instincts," Ted lightly corrected. "You're good, really good. Are you sure you need boxing lessons?"

The young woman rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "I enjoy learning new stuff and I want to be active."

"Okay then. If you're up to it, then I'll take you on. We'll waive the fee for the first month just to make sure you're committed."

Laurel beamed.


Her visit at Wildcat's concluded with hashing out the logistics of her boxing lessons (something that wouldn't be finalized until Laurel got a job) and discussing what certifications Laurel would need to become a self-defense instructor. Ted had suggested she aim for a RAD-Systems certification first, and had given her a website to look up to see what was required of her. He even offered to write a letter of recommendation for her.

She was on cloud nine by the time she left. The day had gone better than she'd originally hoped. Not only did Laurel have a potential job lined up, she had found a new sparring partner and a new teacher. It was more than she had been hoping for when she woke up this morning.

Maybe that's why the world decided it was time to screw up her day.

Ring! Ring!

Laurel quickly darted into the nearest alleyway and took out her phone—her vigilante phone, as she wasn't supposed to have an actual phone until she went out to the store tomorrow with her mother. She accepted the call, her demeanor turning serious. "What is it, Oracle?"

"Head down to Iron Heights, Canary," Barbara's voice filtered through the speaker. "Brodeur's made his move. He's sent his fixer to take out to Declan. Chatter says he plans to use a prison riot to cover it up."

The vigilante scowled. "Not if I can help it," she quietly declared, before hanging up. A prison riot, only three days after arriving in the city. It was never by halves, was it?

But that was fine. It was time for Starling to see what the Black Canary was really capable of.

Notes:

Yes, it's the same Clocktower Sara appropriated in canon. Here it was made into a proper base because Laurel obviously can't use the Foundry for her base. Since the place was abandoned, Bruce bought the place through a shell company and discreetly had it outfitted to have everything Laurel would need. As for how he did this without Malcolm noticing, Malcolm doesn't strike me as the type to pay attention to what happens in the Glades as it doesn't mess with his plans. Plus the residents of the Glades are the type not to talk for fear of bringing trouble on their own heads, a common thing in a dangerous neighborhood.

Next Chapter: Iron Heights.

Chapter 39: Iron Heights

Summary:

Laurel infiltrates Iron Heights to stop a prison riot and save an innocent man's life.

Later, Oliver and her have a much-needed talk.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Laurel had been to Iron Heights once before—a field trip in middle school that she only had vague memories of. Why the best private school in Washington thought a prison was a perfectly acceptable establishment for a field trip was a bit beyond her. Still, she was grateful for it now because it allowed her to vaguely remember some of the particulars about the compound without having to rely on Barbara to feed her intel. The more she could focus on the fight to come, the better.

The prison riot had already started when she arrived, the chaos crescendoing into full swing. Men and women were brawling throughout the building, taking advantage of the situation to settle old scores, establishing their positions in the hierarchy, or reveling in the pandemonium. Laurel didn't hesitate; she took out her staff and carved a path through the chaos as she searched for Peter Declan. Hopefully, he was still alive; once he was secure and the Brodeur's fixer was taken care of, she could take care of the rest of the prisoners.

Barbara gave her the optimized path to Declan's cell, and Laurel pulled out her grappling hook to swing over the crowd to arrive there faster. When she got there, the poor man was cowering in the corner with another prisoner, who was remarkably calm under pressure. Declan's companion only blinked in brief surprise when he saw her, before clearing his throat at her questioning expression. "Been in prison for close to fifteen years. This is an old hat for me," had been his explanation.

"Thank you, Mr…?"

"Henry Allen."

"Mr. Allen," Laurel finished. She scanned the cell, directing her attention toward the entrance, where the riot was still raging. "Has anyone tried to come in here recently? I have it on good authority that this riot was orchestrated as cover to murder Mr. Declan."

Peter paled. Henry grimaced, and if he was telling the truth about how long he'd been in jail, Laurel imagined this wasn't the first time something like this had happened while he was here. He probably survived this long by keeping his head down, and if he knew Declan for any appreciable amount of time, had advised the other man to do the same. Too bad it hadn't worked.

"Brodeur?" Declan asked.

"Brodeur," Laurel confirmed.

With that settled, Laurel advised both men to stay in the cell and not to open it for any reason. She closed and locked the door behind her, and then scanned the area, warding off the occasional attacker. Lying in wait, until the predator revealed himself, so she could strike him down.

Eventually, the culprit emerged. A tall, gray-haired nondescript man, leading a pack of convicts. They didn't even try to hide what they were doing (another indictment of the corrupt establishment) as they made a direct beeline for her—or, to be more exact, for Peter Declan's cell. Laurel drew her quarterstaff and didn't bother asking questions.

The first one tried to shiv her with what looked like a sharpened toothbrush. Laurel slammed the body of her staff into his wrist and knocked him out with a sharp elbow to the head, before ducking down a clumsy swing from one of his friends and sweeping his legs. She stomped on his sternum and kicked him in the head to knock him out, before going after the rest.

Eventually, it was just the fixer and her. The man had a gun (of course he had a gun) and fired a few shots at her. They were dodged easily, and Laurel quickly disarmed him, before grabbing him by the lapels of his shirt and slamming him back-first into the nearest wall. The man grunted and glowered down at her, while Laurel shoved the butt of her weapon into his neck.

"Brodeur?" she asked knowingly.

"I'm not telling you shit," the man snarled.

She smiled. "You don't need to. All you need to do is tell the police. Flip on your boss, clear Peter Declan's name and you'll never have to see or speak to me ever again."

He barked a laugh. "And just why would I do that?"

"Oh, I was hoping you'd say that."

And with that, Laurel leaned forward and let out a little cry.


"I brought Big Belly Burger!" Laurel proudly announced as she stepped over the threshold over her family, bearing greasy, fried joy.

Sara, who had been typing up a report at the dining room table (and what a strange turn of events that was), let out a ragged cheer and gestured to her with grabby hands. Laurel thoughtfully propped up one of the bags next to her sister's computer, before propping up another one next to her father, who was reading through case files right across from Sara. Dinah was bustling in the kitchen, making a virgin drink that she swore went with just about anything, and Laurel tried too hard not to think about why there was no more alcohol in the house.

Once all the food was set out, one of them turned on the television for some running background noise. The first channel that appeared was the local news, where one Susan Williams was delivering the latest update to the Declan Case. Ennis Ankov, bodyguard of Jason Brodeur, had just been arrested for breaking into Iron Heights and instigating a prison riot, for the sole purpose of murdering Peter Declan without suspicion. He had already confessed to doing the same with Camille Declan, and there were plans to have her husband released by the end of the week.

"Hilton's got the case, now," Quentin sighed from the other side of the table. "The original detective's been fired and arrested for corruption. They're looking for a replacement already."

"Happy it's not you?" Dinah asked knowingly.

"Elated, honey."

It was all nice and domestic. From where she was sitting next to Sara, Laurel allowed herself a small, discreet smile.


A Few Days Later

If there was one thing Laurel would never get used to, it was the paparazzi.

Which was an odd thing to say, because, in retrospect, they had always been a minor, background presence in her life. Her mother was from a branch of the Gotham City Drakes, prominent enough that there had been a small scandal when she married Laurel and Sara's father. When Laurel was born and her grandparents realized Quentin and Dinah were a done deal, they cut her family out of the will. Her mother never regretted it, and Laurel never bothered looking her mother's parents up or seeking them out when she was in Gotham. They were nothing to her.

But they were something to Gotham. A few of the paps from there had invaded the carefully private and low-key domestic life the young couple had built for themselves to take pictures of them when Laurel had been born so they could splatter it all over the tabloids. They started up again when Sara was born, and one of Laurel's earliest memories was Quentin threatening to arrest a particularly determined columnist for going through their mail (a federal offense). It was one of the first things that endeared her to the idea of becoming a cop (and then, after Quentin put a nix on that, a lawyer).

Gotham paparazzi were gone by the time Laurel was five, only for the Starling edition to enter her life when started attending Berlanti Prep in the same year as Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn, the scions of the two richest families in the city. Though, to be honest, it wasn't just them—Berlanti Prep hosted the children of numerous famous businessmen, politicians, and celebrities. Ollie and Tommy just happened to be the newest to join the student body.

It was irritating. On the bright side, they got after-school media training every week, which was helpful when Laurel started dating Oliver. And, well—here and now, when she had become a minor celebrity in her own right.

"Miss Lance, Miss Lance! Can you tell us how you felt when you saw Robert Queen die?"

"Laurel, are you and Oliver Queen back together?"

"Can you comment on the rumors that you're dating Tommy Merlyn?"

On and on it went, and Laurel, side by side with her family, ignored them all with deft practice as she exited the courthouse. Her resurrection hearing had just finished, and she had just gone through the harrowing job of describing some of the worst days of her life for the third time this week. The first time had been with her own family, the Queens, and Tommy. The second time had been Monday with poor Sam Hackett, who had to learn his father had been killed by Robert Queen so Laurel could live. The man had raged and screamed, and while he hadn't blamed Laurel in the end, he understandably didn't want to see her ever again. Most likely, he was planning to move out of the city soon to escape the storm of publicity, and she couldn't blame him for it. Under different circumstances, she might've done the same thing.

"Vultures, all of them," her father groused once all four of them were safely ensconced in his police cruiser. "One of these days, I'm going to arrest a few for my own peace of mind."

"Quentin," Dinah admonished with a sigh.

"Let's just head to the precinct, Dad," Laurel consoled him from behind, Sara nodding beside her. "I want to see everyone."

Quentin grunted but didn't argue. Instead, he turned on the engine of the car. The sound immediately caused the reporters and cameramen to back off to avoid being run over. The detective pulled out of the parking lot as quickly as he could and left them all in the dust, and once the crowd was completely out of sight, the tension in the vehicle dropped immediately.

"So you're seeing Ollie today, right?" Sara asked, trying to fill in the silence.

Laurel nodded. "We're heading to this restaurant, Table Salt. We decided that before we tried anything again, we needed to have an honest talk. Just the two of us."

"Do you want to try for something again?"

A pause. "I do. But we've both changed. And we just want to make sure there's still a chance."

It was a candid statement. Sara reached over, and squeezed her hand.


When they arrived at the precinct, there was a crowd of people waiting to greet them—or more specifically, to greet Laurel. At the front of the crowd was Lieutenant Franklin Pike, another close friend of her father's and the current head of the MCU. He greeted Laurel with a big hug and promised her she was welcome to visit the precinct anytime she wanted.

After him was Hilton, and then several of her father's friends and coworkers, many of whom had met her over the years before the Gambit. She got more hugs and well-wishes, offers for meals and outings that she wasn't entirely sure were sincere. At least until she saw another unexpected face: McKenna Hall.

"Oh my God, McKenna!" Laurel exclaimed, pulling the other woman into her arms. "What are you doing here? You're a cop now?"

"Detective, actually," McKenna explained with a laugh. "I'm in Vice, cracking down on drug dealers."

Laurel was impressed. "Important work. If that's the case, what are you doing down here at the MCU?"

"Other than to see you? I'm digging up information on a new wannabe drug lord we're tracking down. There's a new designer drug going around the party scene called Vertigo, and we're trying to get it off the streets."

Now the blonde was frowning. A new designer drug? That didn't bode well. She'd have to pass this information to Babs and see what the hacker could dig up. If Vice couldn't track down whoever was behind this, maybe they could.

"Laurel, honey," and there was her father, interjecting himself into the conversation. He looked serious. "I'm sorry, but it looks like I won't be able to take you to Table Salt. We just got a call—homicide of a young woman, and I've been tapped to take on the investigation."

"Don't worry, Dad," Laurel told him once the momentary shock passed. "I can take the bus to the restaurant. You go do your job."

Quentin smiled, then pressed a kiss to her cheek and gave her a quick "Love you," before joining up with Hilton and heading out. Laurel allowed herself a brief moment to compose herself before turning back to McKenna, who was smiling at her knowingly. "I'm happy for you, Laurel."

Laurel smiled back. "Thanks, McKenna."


With Sara and Dinah opting to head home, Laurel alone headed over to Table Salt for her meeting with Ollie. The entire trip, she was nervous; her mind recalled that unpromising encounter with Oliver last week, the sadness and guilt in his eyes when he told her there were things he needed to tell her. Try as she might, she couldn't keep it out of her head. What was wrong? What did Oliver want her to know that was so bad?

When she arrived, she was told that Oliver was already in the restaurant, in a private booth for both of them. The hostess guided her to the booth and handed her a menu before she was seated. Oliver saw her from the other side and perked up. "Laurel," he said, happy but with a hint of bittersweetness.

"Ollie," Laurel greeted back, trying not to sound too nervous.

They talked and perused the menu while waiting for their waitress, who came with bread and water. After giving their orders to her, a brief silence fell over the booth. Laurel cleared her throat. "Ollie?"

He swallowed. "Before we even think about restarting our relationship, I need to be honest with you, Laurel. Before the Gambit, I lied to you a lot. I kept things from you that you should've known, the kind of things that would've… caused you to break up with me."

Laurel froze. What…?

"That's why I'm telling you now," he continued, desperately. "You deserve to know and deserve to cast your own judgment on me. And for what it's worth, Laurel, I am sorry."

With that, Oliver launched into one of the most painful stories Laurel had ever heard in her entire life. He had prefaced it by revealing that he had intended to cheat on her while she was in China because he didn't want to tell her that he wasn't ready to move in with her yet. And the reason why he hadn't been ready, the real reason, wasn't just because of immaturity and selfishness (though that had been a part of it), but because he hadn't felt worthy of her.

Because it wouldn't have been the first time he had cheated on her.

"I slept with Samantha Clayton while we were both drunk at some college party," he shamefully admitted. "And… she got pregnant."

Her breath hitched. "So you have a kid? A daughter or a son?"

"No. She miscarried."

A stab of pain and empathy entered her heart. Despite the swirl of sadness and anger Laurel was feeling, there was no pleasure in learning that the pregnancy hadn't come to full-term, that Oliver had lost his chance at being a father. It was clear the incident still hurt him even now.

"Ollie…"

"I don't deserve you, Laurel," Oliver said, resigned. "I never have. If you don't want anything to do with me anymore, I don't blame you at all. But if you do, somehow, find it in yourself to forgive me and take me back, then I'll promise you this—I will never lie to you ever again."

It was that last statement that caused Laurel to stiffen. The entire world stopped, cleared out at a singular point. I will never lie to you ever again.

She had every reason in the world to doubt that promise. But she didn't. She knew Oliver in her bones and knew this was a promise he had every intention of keeping. If Laurel forgave him (an if) and took him back (a bigger if), he would do everything in his power to tell her the truth, no matter how painful it was.

The problem was her. Because Laurel was the one who could no longer tell him the truth.

Right now, she was playing the part of a poor, traumatized woman who had spent five years on a deserted island, and it was a lie. She was lying to him, lying to everyone—about what she had really been doing those five years, about being the Black Canary, hell even about Robert's death. She hadn't told them about the List after all, had she? Even though his family had the right to know that there might be more behind his death than a simple accident.

Oliver was right. They couldn't restart their relationship if there were secrets between them. And that went both ways.

"Thank you for telling me all this, Ollie," Laurel choked out. "I'm not ready to forgive you yet, even though I think I probably will. But as to whether or not we get together again… I need time to process everything before I make that kind of decision."

Her ex-boyfriend nodded, a lump in his throat.

"But…" and here, his head shot up, "…I stand by what I said the other night, Ollie. You're always going to be important to me. You're always going to be my best friend."

Oliver's face brightened immediately, and he looked like he was about to cry. Laurel swallowed down her guilt and smiled back.


The food came and went, as they dipped into lighter topics. Laurel told Oliver what she had been up to these past couple of days, from her college resume to Wildcat's to her resurrection hearing to heading to the precinct and finding out that party guru McKenna Hall had become a detective for Vice of all things. They both shared raised eyebrows at that.

Oliver, in turn, told her about grad school and his part-time work at both the Foundation and QC and then asked her if she was still okay with attending the groundbreaking ceremony for the Applied Sciences Center at the end of this week, the building that's to be named after Robert. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," Laurel assured him.

It's while they're waiting for dessert that they touch on a heavier topic again. Not as heavy as earlier, but something… big.

"You and Sara kissed?" Laurel blinked.

"Yeah," Oliver confirmed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "It was at Tommy's twenty-fourth birthday party, three years after the Gambit. She and I spent a lot of time together planning the party, and for a minute we thought we had something, so… a kiss. You're not mad, are you?"

"I was dead, Ollie," Laurel bluntly stated, ignoring his flinch. "As far as both of you knew, I was dead. You both had the right to move on. If it had been right after the Gambit, maybe I would've been mad, but it was years after. Neither of you were doing anything wrong. And besides, it looks like nothing came of it anyway."

"You're right," Oliver sighed. "It took only one kiss for us to realize it wasn't going to work. I was still hung up on you, and I didn't want to risk treating her like some… replacement. And she told me that trying anything with me felt like it was betraying you. So nothing happened after that. I went back to focusing on school and Thea, and she eventually started dating someone she met at med school."

"Oh?" Laurel perked up—Sara hadn't mentioned that to her yet. "Who?"

Oliver stiffened, then grimaced. "I think that's something Sara should tell you."

And there was that ominous feeling again. "Ollie—"

"It's nothing bad," he quickly rushed out. "I promise you, Laurel. It's nothing bad. It's just—it's something you need to hear from her, not me."

Well. That was… something. She no longer felt so afraid, just confused. "Okay," she said slowly. "I'll ask her when I get home."

The statement sent a wave of relief through Oliver, and Laurel wondered what she was missing.

Notes:

Apologies for the sudden delays in posting. I've been distracted by a bunch of stuff lately and have put fan fiction on the wayside. As an apology, I'm posting this chapter early, will post another chapter on Friday, before resuming the weekly schedule on Sunday.

Back to the story, here's the reason why Laurel and Oliver don't get back together immediately. They want total honesty between each other, and that means Oliver has to admit his biggest mistake to Laurel. While Laurel needs time to process this, this is not the only issue. The biggest reason why they're not getting together yet is because Laurel can't return the favor and be honest and transparent with Oliver like he wants to be with her.

I'm not going to lie; this is partly because Bruce was her mentor. Laurel is well aware of Bruce's messy love life and how the secrecy around his identity as Batman has screwed up every relationship he has. There's a reason why his two most prominent love interests are Catwoman and Talia al Ghul, two women who are heavily involved in his life as Batman far more than his life as Bruce Wayne. Understandably, Laurel wants to avoid that, and as disappointed and angry as she is at Oliver right now, she knows he deserves better than what she can give him right now.

As for why Oliver didn't tell Laurel about Sara and Alex, it's because he has matured. Enough to recognize that he shouldn't be the one to tell Laurel her sister is bisexual. That's something that needs to come from Sara herself.

Next Chapter: The Triad.

Chapter 40: The Triad

Summary:

Laurel has a talk with Sara.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Laurel returned home with a miasma of emotions that she still didn't know how to process. She probably wouldn't get the chance until she had some alone time, or at least had the opportunity to talk with someone about what she and Oliver had discussed. But before that, she needed to find Sara.

She believed Oliver's reassurances that whatever it was with Sara's last relationship wasn't bad, but as a big sister, she couldn't help but worry. Especially since Sara hadn't told her about any sort of relationship she was in, and when she mentioned that to him, Oliver told her that it was because the relationship had ended several months ago. "The break-up was cordial, but it really cut her up," he had explained, solemn. "She's better now, but she doesn't like to talk about it if she can."

That statement tempted Laurel to just leave it be and wait until Sara was ready to tell her. But she knew her sister, and there was a decent chance that if she let it be, then Sara would never get around to telling her and then it would all come out at the worst possible time in the worst possible way. Laurel didn't want that either.

So she decided on a compromise—she'd ask Sara about it, and see how she reacted. If Sara wasn't ready to open up, Laurel would let it go and let her sister know that they could talk about it when she was ready. If she was ever ready. Whatever Sara wanted. And if she was, then Laurel would sit with her in one of their rooms and talk, like they did when they were younger before their lives were completely upended by a (probably) sabotaged boat.

Laurel was about to get started on that plan when she spotted Sara back to work at the dining table. She quickly bustled to the kitchen to put the leftover cake she had brought over from Table Salt into the fridge. It was a gift at Oliver's insistence, even though Laurel hadn't been able to eat more than a few bites. It was too sweet and filled with artificial flavoring, but at the sight of his earnest expression, she couldn't find it in herself to refuse.

"Sara-bear, can we talk?" she asked once the cake was safely stored, popping her head outside the kitchen and into the dining room to speak to her sister directly.

"Sure, Laurel," Sara replied, looking up from her flash cards. "How was your talk with Ollie, by the way?"

A flinch. "It was… difficult," Laurel said carefully, "but we can talk about that later. Right now—"

SLAM!

Sara jumped, while Laurel instinctively went for a nearby kitchen knife for an impromptu weapon. She quickly stopped when she realized the person who had slammed the front door open had been their father, and thankfully both he and Sara had been too distracted to notice what she had been trying to do.

The sound of the door opening so loudly had also alerted their mother, who quickly exited her office, frazzled. "Quentin!" She almost shouted, not pleased.

Her husband ignored her, practically ripping his jacket off as he snarled under his breath. Dinah faltered when she saw his mood, and she spoke up again, this time with a more comforting tone. "Honey, what's wrong?"

Quentin groaned and turned to his family with an exhausted expression. "The homicide I started investigating today? The victim was Emily Nocenti."

Dinah and Sara gasped in horror. Laurel, completely out of the loop, blinked. "Who's Emily Nocenti?"

"She was the daughter of a stevedore who was killed about a month or so ago, named Victor Nocenti," her mother explained, pale. "Initial reports indicate he witnessed some kind of deal between his boss Martin Somers and the Chinese Triad at a port Somers controls and was killed for it."

"Emily was campaigning for further investigation into his death and went to CNRI for legal help," Sara continued where Dinah left off. "Last I heard, they were about to take her case."

"And now she's dead," Laurel flatly stated. She didn't bother saying why.

Quentin grunted. "It's like I told you both before," he said to his daughters. "They're getting bolder by the day. It's stuff like this that allows vigilantes like that Canary chick to spring up. It makes people believe that they can't find justice with the law, so they take things into their own hands and find justice outside of it instead. Sickening."

He ranted a little bit more, blind to how Laurel had stopped paying attention to him. Instead, she had an inquisitive frown on her face, her gaze far off.

Somers is on the List, isn't he? She thought to herself, making an idle note to have Babs check to make sure. Regardless of whether or not he was, it looked like Laurel had her next target.


It was still a few hours before she could slip out of the house and get justice for the Nocentis, so Laurel decided it was time to get the talk with Sara out of the way. Her sister had migrated from the dining table to her room after dinner, and Laurel waited an hour in her own room before knocking on the door. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Sara idly responded, still typing on the laptop in her lap.

Laurel carefully opened the door so she wouldn't break her sister's concentration before locking it behind her. She sat at the edge of the bed and just waited, watching Sara as she worked. No lie—before the Gambit, she had been a little worried. Sara had always been a little too into the party lifestyle, and after high school, it had only gotten worse, to the point that Laurel had been to suspect something was up. Her baby sister always seemed to have too much free time and a worrying lack of concern over her grades, very unlike the college student she was supposed to be.

But now, there was no longer a concern. Sara had found a goal and was intent on accomplishing it with everything she had. It made Laurel proud.

Eventually, her little sister finished whatever she was working on and closed her laptop to focus completely on Laurel. "So what do you want to talk about?"

Laurel inhaled a deep breath. "Ollie and I had lunch together today, to talk about our future together. And he revealed some stuff that he hid from me before the Gambit."

Sara blinked, and then reached out to take her hand. "What did he tell you?"

"…he cheated on me," Laurel blurted out.

Her sister cringed. "Who?"

"Samantha Clayton."

"Wasn't that one of your sorority sisters?" Sara sounded angry now.

"Yes. They got drunk at some party and had a one-night stand. He was so ashamed that he didn't tell me and started subconsciously sabotaging our relationship. Apparently, he was going to cheat on me while I was in China as some roundabout way of telling me he wasn't ready to move in with me yet."

Sara snarled at that, furious. "Why that jerk!"

"Sara, he said he was sorry—"

"I don't care if he was sorry! That's fucked up!"

Laurel sighed. "Maybe it is, but Sara, don't be too hard on him for it. The thing with Samantha… it didn't end well."

"What do you mean by that?" her sister demanded.

"It just didn't, Sara," Laurel told her, refusing to say another word. What happened to Oliver and Samantha—she didn't feel it was her place to tell anyone else what happened. It was something private, and Oliver only felt the need to tell her because she was involved in the matter. Sara wasn't.

Sara eyed her critically before reluctantly relenting, crossing her arms. "Fine. But I reserve the right to be pissed at him for a while."

"Of course, Sara."

There was a moment of silence as Laurel patiently waited for her sister to calm down. Sara continued to grumble her breath, and one thing caught Laurel's ear. "I can't believe I ever had a crush on him…"

Laurel blinked. She had known about the kiss, but the way Oliver had worded it, it had been a resulting build-up of emotions after spending a lot of time together. And maybe it had been, on his end. The same, as it turned out, couldn't have been for Sara.

"You had a crush on him?"

Sara froze, and then her face fell into the lines of guilt. Not unlike Oliver earlier. Laurel interlaced their fingers and squeezed. "Sara, whatever it is, I won't get mad—it's all in the past now."

The guilt didn't leave her face. If anything, it got worse. "Sara?"

A swallow. "I did have a crush on him," she admitted. "And I was… thinking of seducing him while you were in China."

Laurel's mouth fell open. "What… Sara, why? Did I do something—"

"No, Laurel, no! It was me. I was just… jealous, you know? You were always the good daughter, the responsible one—the one who had it all together, had her entire life planned out. Looking at you made me feel like I wasn't good enough."

"Oh, Sara…"

"It's one of the reasons I was so wild back then," Sara continued, looking everywhere but the heartbroken expression on her older sister's face. "When I was drunk or high out of my mind or just in the arms of someone else, I didn't feel inferior. I felt like… me."

It was a heartbreaking claim. Laurel knew things were bad with Sara and had done her best to curb the damage, but she didn't think to treat the potential cause. She had just assumed it was just Sara hanging around Ollie and Tommy and their crowd of hanger-ons and getting sucked into their antics. Perhaps that had been a part of it, but there was a deeper reason that Laurel never noticed. It filled her with guilt.

"I'm sorry, Laurel," Sara finished, her eyes welled up with tears.

Laurel pulled her into another hug. "You don't have to apologize for anything, Sara-bear. I just wish you had told me about all this sooner. This shouldn't have been left between us for so long."

She pulled away, her expression determined. "From now on, promise me you'll never hide your feelings from me like this again. I'm a big girl, Sara—no matter how much it might hurt, I can take it."

Sara sniffed and buried her face into her sister's shoulder. "Okay."


It took a bit for Sara to calm down and continue their talk. Once she was ready, Laurel gently touched on the kiss Oliver and Sara shared at Tommy's birthday party. She assured her sister she wasn't mad, especially since nothing came of it in the end, but then mentioned something else Oliver told her. "He said that you entered a relationship around the time you first started med school," Laurel said, noting the way Sara stiffened at the words. "For some reason though, he was very cagey about it, and said that I was better learning about it from you instead of him."

Sara looked down, and Laurel sighed. "Sara, if you don't want to talk about it now—"

"No, no," Sara cut her off. "It's fine."

It didn't sound fine, but Laurel wasn't sure arguing was a good idea at this point. If Sara was ready to tell her, she'd tell her. If she wasn't, then she wasn't and they wouldn't speak of it any further.

"I met Alex in med school," she started. "We were study buddies—they needed help in Pharmacology, and I needed help in Anatomy. It seemed like a fair trade, so we hacked out a schedule to study together twice a week at their apartment. Over time we got closer, and then around Christmas, they kissed me."

Laurel nodded along to the story, trying her best to hide her confusion. So far, nothing about the situation sounded strange or out of place, so she didn't understand why Oliver had been so reluctant to discuss the relationship, or why Sara was acting so nervous. There was something about Sara's language that was off, but Laurel couldn't tell what it was first.

And then—

"I didn't realize how she felt about me until she kissed me," Sara rushed out, then winced.

She.

Oh.

Well, that made a lot more sense.

"Thank God," Laurel breathed out. "Ollie told me it wasn't anything bad, but I couldn't help but worry."

Her sister blinked. "You don't… mind?"

"Sara, of course I don't mind. You're my sister, and I love you. Besides, there's nothing wrong with liking girls."

Sara released a breath of relief. "Thank you, Laurel."

There were a few more questions—like whether or not Sara was bisexual or a lesbian ("Bisexual, though now that I've allowed myself to really look, I think I prefer women more than men.") and why she hadn't mentioned her relationship with Alex earlier besides the obvious. Sara revealed that the relationship was starting to turn serious when Alex abruptly broke it off after her father died so she could move back to her hometown to take care of her grieving mother. Unlike Sara, Alex thought a long-distance relationship wouldn't work out between them.

"I still love her, Laurel," the younger woman admitted, a little tearful. "And I miss her. It's been almost two years, and yet it still hurts to think about her."

Laurel sighed sadly, her arms once again around Sara as she brushed through her sister's hair. "She was your first love, Sara. You never forget your first. Just give it time, and remember that you still have other people in your life who care about you."

There was a brief pause.

"I've missed you, Laurel."

"I've missed you too, Sara-Bear."


Later That Night

"Meet Martin Somers."

Laurel watched attentively as the flatscreen was filled with numerous images and reports of Somers. On top of the standard portrait, there were pictures of him at work visiting various docks, and of him meeting figures, both of great and ill repute. A stereotypical corrupt businessman, not unlike those she had encountered in Gotham and during her journey throughout America. "What's his rap sheet?"

"The usual. Drug trafficking, human trafficking, smuggling—all the greatest hits. His most frequent associates and rumored partner," and here, a new series of images replaced Somers', "is Starling's chapter of the Chinese Triad."

Laurel frowned. She already knew many of these names, but two stuck out. The first was Zhishan, the leader of the local chapter, who regularly coordinated their efforts and acted as their primary contact with their superiors in mainland China. A dangerous man, if one that was known to keep his hands clean from the nitty gritty dirty work.

Instead, he let his protege and second-in-command handle all that. Chien na Wei (nicknamed "China White" on the streets) was the Triad's top enforcer and Zhishan's unofficial heir apparent. She had joined them as a young teenager and had risen through the ranks to become one of their top assassins, specializing in knife combat. It was very likely she had been the one to kill the Nocentis.

It was strange. Laurel had been taught to fear and avoid these people ever since they had first stepped foot in Starling by her father. Now, here she was, suiting up as a vigilante to deliberately take them on. It was a good thing Quentin was completely unaware of her double life, otherwise he would have a heart attack.

"After Nocenti was killed, they would've changed the port where they're conducting their operations," she said as she prepared to roll out. "Have you figured out which one?"

"Indeed, I have," Barbara cheekily replied, pulling up an address. "There's been significant activity at this port after-hours, a lot of it unlogged. Likely this is where Somers has moved his illegal business to."

Laurel smirked, and put on her mask. "Perfect."


The first thing Laurel noticed when she began investigating the port was that Somers was being careful. The docks were completely locked down, not a soul in sight. The only sign of life was in a hidden, isolated area that she only noticed because of the peak in the electricity grid that Babs was tracking.

It wasn't surprising. Everyone knew he was dirty, knew he had something to do with the deaths of the Nocentis, and the police were just waiting for him to give them an excuse. Laurel imagined one or two contacts in the force were allowing him to stay one step ahead, but even that only allowed for so much leeway. One slip now could end everything for him.

Hopefully, in all his precautions, he was not accounting for any interfering birdies.

She hid within the shadows of the many ships and shipping containers dotting the area, her steps swift and silent. Gradually, she approached the hidden port, cursing when she spotted the ship docked there beginning to depart. There went that potential avenue for evidence.

Thump!

But not all is lost, Laurel mused as she pressed her ear against the nearest shipping container. Once the coast was clear, she broke open the container's lock and ripped open the doors. Sure enough, sitting right there were several young, pretty girls of various nationalities, dressed in dirty rags. Human trafficking.

"Wait here," Laurel told them while telling Babs to call the police. She took out her wireless camera and took pictures of them, wanting to have documented proof in case the worst happened. Once done, she started removing their bonds, instructing them in various languages to head toward the parking lot near the docks and wait until the police arrived.

When she was done, she moved to the other shipping containers and began opening them up as well, delighting when she saw they were filled with contraband like drugs and weapons. Laurel quickly took pictures of that as well, doing her best not to smirk. Somers would have a hard time arguing his way out of evidence like this.

She was about halfway through her fourth shipping container when the Triad finally took notice of her and decided to intervene. A stark contrast to Gotham, where Laurel would've never gotten this far without somebody attacking her already. If this was their idea of "careful", it made Laurel wonder just how lax Starling's finest had been on crime these past few years, because Laurel was certain things weren't this bad before the Gambit. Was there a connection?

Something to think about, Laurel presumed as she knocked out her first attacker with a kick to the head. A second one tried to punch her and she ducked behind the swing before kicking him in the chest and slamming his head against a nearby container, once, twice. He was out like a light by the time she was done, and she absentmindedly dropped his body to the ground.

There were a few more guards, all easily dispatched, until the big fish finally arrived: Chien na Wei. China White.

"Ah, the Black Canary. Finally gathered your courage to come after us?" White taunted her, brandishing her signature knives.

"I guess you could say that," Laurel replied, falling into a stance. "Though if I'm going to be honest, it wasn't much."

With that, they pounced. A rapid exchange of blows, knife hands, and kicks, followed by a brief reprieve while they searched for openings in each other's guards. They maneuvered between the shipping containers, with Laurel occasionally using them as platforms to kick off when she needed more space to fight and as the occasional shield.

She had to admit that China White lived up to her reputation. This was by far the hardest fight she'd had since before the end of her countrywide tour, and certainly her hardest fight thus far in Starling, if one didn't count her spar with Selina the other day. Laurel found she had to keep all her focus on her opponent if she didn't want to get sliced to ribbons, a point proven when she was briefly distracted by Martin Somers' arrival and got a cut on the cheek for her troubles.

Laurel clicked her teeth as she wiped away a line of plasma. White smirked at her, waving the knife that had delivered the cut, and an annoyed Laurel noted she would need to grab that before she left. She couldn't leave her DNA lying around, especially here.

"What the hell are you doing?" Somers demanded, hands on his hips. "Kill her already!"

White nodded, complying by lunging forward with both knives poised to strike the killing blow. It was her first and last mistake—Laurel saw the opening for what it was and launched herself, dipping below White's charge to tackle the woman by the midsection and slam her to the concrete ground with powerful force. Before White had the chance to react or recover from the attack, the Black Canary slammed her knee directly into her solar plexus before slamming a powerful haymaker into the other woman's face. She went out like a light.

Satisfied that her opponent was knocked out, Laurel grabbed White's knives and pocketed them before turning to the now-pale Somers. The man tried to make a run for it, but Laurel took out one of her miniaturized bolas and threw it, watching as they enlarged themselves and wrapped around the fleeing businessman. He snarled as he struggled against the powerful bonds, helpless as Laurel pulled him up by the lapels of his suit and slammed him against the nearest metal box.

"Bitch!" the man yelped.

"The police will be here soon," Laurel said, ignoring his whining. "When they arrive, you're going to confess to all your crimes: the smuggling, the trafficking, the murders—all of it."

"And just why would I do that?" Somers demanded. "Gonna tattle on me? Without proof, nobody is going to believe some crazy kung-fu chick like you."

Said crazy kung-fu chick arched an eyebrow, before languidly letting Somers go and turning to the rest of the hidden port, the shipping containers, and transportation equipment. Once she was certain no one was in the line of fire, the Black Canary opened her mouth and screamed.

The force of her Canary Cry obliterated everything in the vicinity, destroying multiple shipping containers and a nearby crane. From behind her, she practically felt Somers' horror as his operations were all but erased right in front of his very eyes.

When she was done, Laurel turned to Somers with a bright smile. The man had slid to the ground, gibbering. She sauntered toward him, bending down so they were eye-to-eye, before giving a mocking pat to his cheek. "If you don't confess to the police, it'll be you next," she told him cheerily.

Somers stared up at her in terrified silence. Then, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he fell to his side in a dead faint. Laurel blinked, then shrugged, before taking out the zip ties from her utility belt to tie him up.

And with that, she made her leave.

Notes:

Here is the next chapter. Laurel and Sara have a much-needed heart-to-heart, and Laurel learns Sara is bisexual. She also has her first encounter with the Triad, which may or may not be very important later down the line.

Next Chapter: More Encounters with Organized Crime.

Chapter 41: The Shooter

Summary:

Laurel continues her war on Starling's organized crime.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

A Few Days Later

"Man, did you hear about Somers?" A man hissed to his colleague.

"What about?" she asked.

"He's claiming to the police that Black Canary was responsible for destroying the docks. Said she has some sort of 'freaky scream' that let her do it, whatever that means."

"Wow. Think there's any truth to it?"

"Bullshit," Quentin grunted, cutting through Laurel's eavesdropping. "If ya ask me, it's just some crazed ramblings from a condemned man."

Sara frowned. "Maybe, but you got to admit Dad, the damage to the docks was pretty extensive. You sure it wasn't her?"

"Oh, it probably was, but she probably used some sonic weapon she nabbed while she was in Gotham. They engineer all sorts of freaky tech over there." He snorted. "Way more plausible than her having superpowers of all things."

Laurel bit the inside of her cheek as she tried not to laugh. They were at the opening ceremony for QC's new Applied Sciences center, waiting for the event to start. Despite the occasion, however, all everyone could talk about was the recent downfall of Martin Somers at the hands of the Black Canary. He had been exposed for his crimes and was staring down a lifetime sentence, and Laurel felt satisfied that the Nocentis would be getting justice for their deaths. She kept an eye on things just to make sure Somers didn't wiggle his way out of justice, but for the most part, her business there was done.

A few minutes passed before they were joined by the Queens (who greeted them happily) and the Merlyns. Tommy said hello to everyone before doing his best to ignore the father who had accompanied him. Malcolm had to clear his throat to get him to cave, and with a sigh, Tommy gestured to him half-heartedly. "Laurel, you remember my father, Malcolm Merlyn," he said, sounding like this was the last thing in the world he wanted to be doing right now.

"I do," Laurel said politely, before shaking Malcolm's hand. There were no tender feelings here—she had never been close to Mr. Merlyn, and that had been partly by the man's design. She was a part of Tommy's life, and Malcolm had never shown much care for his son or who associated with him, as long as they weren't someone who could bring shame to his name. "It's nice to see you again, Mr. Merlyn."

"And you as well, Laurel. It was wonderful news to learn you had survived that dreadful accident," Malcolm replied smoothly. It was hard to tell whether or not he was sincere.

After Malcolm, Oliver brought forward another new face, a man named Walter Steele. "He succeeded my father as the CEO of Queen Consolidated, in addition to being my mentor and a good friend of our family," Oliver explained.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Lance," Walter told her as they shook hands. "I've heard a lot of good things about you over the years from Oliver. He was over the moon when he learned you had survived the shipwreck."

Laurel blushed. "Thank you, Mr. Steele. Please, call me Laurel."

They let go, and Walter smiled. "Robert would be honored to see you here today," he said sincerely.

Her expression turned a little fixed at that, though thankfully nobody noticed. Now that the greetings were out of the way and all the important players were here, it was time for the ceremony to begin. Laurel watched near the front of the crowd as several people came forward to deliver speeches, either focusing on honoring Robert or emphasizing the good work the Applied Sciences Center was to conduct in the future. She tried her best to pay attention, but inevitably, her mind was drawn back to Walter's words.

Robert would be honored to see you here today.

Walter was right. Robert would have been happy to see her today, alive and well and attending a ceremony honoring his memory. But what would make him happier, what would allow his spirit to rest, was to get justice for what had effectively been his murder. And there was only one way to do that.

It's time to find out what 'Tempest' really is, Laurel decided.

Her resolve hardened, and Laurel turned her attention back to the stage. She'd start tonight, with her next target on the List—James Holder.


A Week Later

With a sigh, Laurel parked her bike in the Clocktower's underground garage, rubbing her neck to loosen some of the muscles there. She headed toward the elevator and ascended to the top of the tower, running a hand through her hair. The dye that the Foxes had concocted for her was effective for the most part, and they had made sure the damage it would do to her hair would be greatly minimized. It was just hard to get used to—after so long of using wigs to disguise herself, not feeling that occasional itch in her scalp left an… absence.

When she arrived at the top floor, Barbara was waiting for her. She turned to Laurel and tilted her head. "Anything this time?"

Laurel shook her head. "No dice. Pattel clammed up when I mentioned Tempest, just like the others. Wouldn't even crack when I made a veiled death threat—don't tell Bruce that, by the way."

"My lips are sealed," Barbara promised. "And sucks about Pattel. At least you prevented him from having a bunch of people killed."

"Mmhmm. Deadshot showing up at that auction would've been a complete disaster." The man was the greatest sniper in the world for a reason—even the League had heard of him, and it was only the fact that the targets he was paid to kill by terrible people were terrible people themselves that had spared his life thus far. "Well, in any case, the whole thing is a dead end for now, so let's move on. Any news on my other side project?"

Barbara responded by pulling up a few pictures, and a standard mystery person stock image. "Dead end there as well. Vanch is careful keeping his little cash cow hidden. It's not just the police after the Count, after all."

The Black Canary frowned. Ever since she had learned of Vertigo from McKenna, Laurel had done her best to track down the source with Barbara's help. Eventually, they uncovered the creator and primary distributor of the designer drug, a man known simply by his street name of "The Count". Despite his unexpected rise, he was a shadow, with only rumors and stories trailing after him, making him hard to track.

Part of that might've been by the design of his much louder backer, the arrogant Cyrus Vanch. An upstart mob boss who had been on a tear the last few years, his stock had increased exponentially since he and the Count partnered up. With a cut of the newest and most lucrative drug in Starling, one rumored to soon be expanding into the rest of the West Coast, the sky was the limit for Vanch as far as anyone could see. Judging by how many more holdings Laurel had to hit after the last few nights, the rumors might very well be true.

"If you're still up for fighting more of the mob, however, then I've got something else for you."

"Really?" Laurel asked, surprised, "Who?"

"The Bertinellis. Somebody has been hitting them up lately. Just this week alone, two of their top earners have been killed. If things continue at this rate Don Bertinelli might decide the culprit is one of his rivals and retaliate to keep his standing."

"And thus, start a mob war," the vigilante surmised. "Dad was right—the mobs in this city really have gotten too bold."

The other woman hummed in agreement. "It'll take me a bit to track where the next hit might be, but I think I can manage it. It's not like the Bertinellis' regular haunts are all that secret."

Laurel nodded. "Tell me if you need any help making the list. I'm pretty sure I had all of them memorized by the time I was twelve."


The Following Day

When the Queens announced that they were holding a second funeral with Robert Queen's recovered remains, it was received in two fashions by the people of Starling. For those close to the family and the wider public, it was a solemn ceremony to put Robert to rest and find closure with his death. For the rest, particularly the upper set, it was the social event of the season and a chance to curry favor with the Queens.

They came bearing gifts, some subtle, some grand, all opulent and expensive. Laurel was no stranger to the magnificence of the Queen Estate, but today it seemed amplified to the point of garishness as Moira Queen's tasteful and respectful decorations clashed with the offerings of her many sycophants. It made her eyes bleed.

She only allowed herself a moment of staring before following Sara to where Oliver and Tommy were. The boys were setting down a large arrangement of flowers next to the ever-growing pile of gifts. They noticed the sisters when they were done, greeting them with waves. "Thanks for coming," Oliver told them both.

"We wouldn't miss this for the world, Ollie," Laurel replied, quite sincerely. She glanced over at the floral arrangement—unlike the rest of the gifts, it wasn't… loud, for lack of a better word. The colors were muted, and Laurel recognized the flowers as some favored by the Queens. "Who sent this?"

Oliver followed her line of sight. "Ah. This was a gift from my half-sister, Emiko. We don't keep in touch all that much, but when Mom decided she was going to hold a second funeral for Dad, I reached out to see if they wanted to come. They decided not to because it would be awkward if they did, but they did send their condolences along with the flowers."

Laurel nodded along with the explanation, listening intently. Oliver had told her about Emiko when they were discussing his affair with Samantha, and while it was a shock to hear, she had time to make peace with the idea. Robert had been a human being with his own mistakes, but whatever they were, they didn't diminish what he had sacrificed for her. "Do you think they'll come to visit the grave at least?"

"Eventually, once all the attention has died down."

That made sense. She was still dealing with some determined paps herself, and the funeral had caused the ruckus to fire up again. Laurel could only imagine what they'd do if Robert's biracial bastard daughter showed up at the same time. The tabloids would have a riot. She couldn't blame Emiko and her mother for wanting to avoid that.

Off-handedly, Laurel glanced toward the casket, where Moira and Thea were standing, accepting condolences and well wishes from the other attendees. It was closed because the corpse inside had gone through five years of decomposition, and not even the best makeup artist on the planet could do anything to fix that. The last thing they needed was to have pictures of Robert's rotting body plastered all over the headlines.

"It's not your fault, Laurel," Sara gently reminded her. "He made his own choice. You were just the one who brought him home."

A sigh. "You're right, Sara," Laurel said, swallowing. "You're right."


"You think with the number of gifts that this was Robert's birthday, not his funeral," Moira complained as she dropped into her chair, exhausted. Over at her desk, Walter hummed and poured them both a drink.

"What do you plan to do with them?"

Moira waved him off. "I'll have the staff help me sift through them and see which of them are sincere, which might be useful, and which we can store in some closet somewhere until we can sell them under the radar. Or give them to the staff as part of their bonuses. God knows they deserve them after helping me deal with this circus."

"A fine idea," Walter noted, handing over a glass to Moira. His lover accepted it gratefully, immediately taking a sip and sighing in relief as the taste of alcohol hit her tongue. Instead of following her lead, he instead swirled his own drink a bit, deep in thought. "It must be difficult, having to bury him a second time.

"It is," Moira admitted, lowering her glass. Her eyes were glassy. "Heartbreaking, to be honest. But it also feels like a long-open door that's finally closing. One I can finally leave behind."

He hummed again. "Do you still love him?"

A brief silence.

"I do," she said. "I think I always will. He was my first love, the father of my children." Both of her children, and Tommy as well for that matter, because God knew Malcolm hadn't had the right to call himself any sort of a father ever since Rebecca died.

"I'll always love him for that if nothing else. But as much I loved him, it can't compare to what I feel for you, Walter."

"Moira…" Walter lowered his glass, genuinely touched.

She reached out to him and took his hand. "I know I haven't been fair to you these last few years, asking you to keep our relationship a secret for so long."

"You had your reasons, Moira," he reminded her. "And they were good ones. Besides, I didn't mind—as long as we could be together, that was enough for me."

"Even so, you deserve more, Walter," Moira said, cupping his cheek. "Which is why I'm telling you this now: sometime in the next year, I want us to go public with our relationship. Obviously we can't do so now, so soon after Robert's second funeral, but once the worst has flown by…"

Walter blinked, pursing his lips. "Are you sure?"

Moira smiled. "I am."

He smiled back, and the two shared a kiss.


A Few Nights Later

Much to Laurel's consternation, it seemed the Bertinellis had expanded the number of hangouts they frequented in the city. Whether that was a sign of Frank Bertinelli's growing influence or just how lax the police had gotten in the last couple of years, she wasn't sure. What she was sure of was that it meant more work for her. She spent her nights after her regular patrols staking out restaurants, bars, and clubs of varying legalities hoping the mystery shooter would show up and make their next move. It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that she was essentially on her own; Barbara was a great conversationalist and a close friend, but she was only one person and had a tendency to go through periods of silence when she was in the "zone".

Laurel was lonely. It wasn't so obvious when she had been on the road, because she was constantly on the move and rarely had any long-term contact with anyone beyond the Bats (discounting that stint with Shiva, which she was desperate to forget even now). She simply didn't have time to dwell on how alone she was. But here and now, when she was back home and with the friends and family she had dreamed about for so long, Laurel couldn't ignore the fact that she was keeping half her life a secret from them. It was stifling.

"Oi!"

Before she could think about that depressing thought any further, a small scuffle below caught her attention. Laurel grew alert when she saw that one of the men was Tony D'Urso, one of Frank Bertinelli's main drug distributors. Judging by how he was stumbling against the front of the bar after being thrown out by the bouncer, he was likely drunk out of his mind.

Normally, this would hardly warrant so much as a glance, but Laurel inherited her father's instincts, and there was a gut feeling that just wouldn't leave her. Carefully, she climbed down the rooftop using one of the nearby fire escapes, keeping her gaze trained on the jelly-legged mafioso. Her efforts were rewarded when she made it to the ground and saw an unknown motorcyclist in black speeding down the street. When they took out a gun, she made her move.

The Black Canary tossed a bird-a-rang, knocking the gun out of the shooter's hand before they could off the drunken Tony. Upon realizing how close he had been to death, the criminal ran back to the bar. The shooter got off their bike to chase after them, but Laurel knocked them and their motorcycle down with a small Canary Cry. They got up in time to engage her in a brief fight.

Once she had gotten close enough, Laurel quickly determined that the shooter was a woman. Her opponent had done her best to disguise her gender through thick clothing, but they hugged her form just well enough for Laurel to figure out her secret. It at least explained why the Bertinellis were having such a hard time identifying their attacker—the only prominent female assassin in the city (as far as they were aware) was Chien na Wei, and if it was her, she wouldn't bother hiding her identity.

As the fight continued, Laurel had to admit that this woman, whoever she was, had decent skills. While she didn't have the polished training Laurel had, she was clearly talented and it showed. Even so, the breadth of difference in experience was too great for her to overcome, and it wasn't long before the Black Canary had her on the backfoot.

Her last, near-fatal mistake came when she drew out her handgun to level the playing field. Hardly the first time she had a gun drawn on her, Laurel reacted on instinct and disarmed the other woman, breaking her opponent's arm in the process. The shooter hissed as she crashed to the ground, clutching the broken limb.

As Laurel closed in on her with the intent of restraining her, the sound of a door slamming caught both of their attention. The Black Canary turned around to see that several men, led by the drunk Tony, were spilling out of the bar. They spotted the two women, with a gesticulating Tony next to them. As the realization hit, Laurel cursed and fled, taking out her grappling hook and shooting it toward the nearest rooftop.

As she was reeled up, she chanced a look back and saw that the shooter had fled as well, speeding away on her motorbike.

Laurel sighed; another night, then.

Notes:

Alright, here is the third chapter of the week. Now we're going back to the weekly schedule.

In this chapter, Laurel learns a bit more about the organized crime situation here in Starling and has her first encounter with Helena. Now, I won't give out any spoilers, but Helena is going to have a substantial role in the story—though not for the reasons many of you are probably thinking of. You'll see this in the following chapter.

Please don't forget to review, and if you could update the TV Tropes page, that would be greatly appreciated. The link is in the first chapter of AO3 Version, and on the Fanworks Page for the Arrowverse on the website.

Next Chapter: Vertigo.