The Earth designated "22" by STAR Labs on Earth-1 was an intriguing place. That was not a compliment. The universe could best be described as dystopian at best and ruthlessly nihilistic at its absolute worst. Emotions were kept in check by inhibitors attached to the amygdalae at birth. Efficiency was expected, and deviation from one's assigned caste was punishable by neural reprogramming, which was really just a euphemism for brainwashing. Emotions caused wars and pain and suffering, so they had to be experienced in moderation. Like alcohol or recreational drugs, emotions were considered forbidden fruits only to be experienced responsibly and in brief amounts before being bottled up again. Love was not a socially acceptable concept, it was not something encouraged to be found but stamped out and overcome like the flu; it hadn't been for decades. Marriages were arranged once the sex of two fetuses were determined, and only if the parents who begot the children had something to gain through the eventual marriage alliance and bloodline continuation.
Governments had long since imploded in the wake of infighting and were replaced by powerful corporations called Projects. The American Project's influence gradually expanded until the continents of North and South America were unified under the flag of the totalitarian state. The Lance and Bertinelli families had been the heads of the American Project since its inception. The Bertinelli's daughter, Helena, was betrothed to the wealthy Oswald Cobblepot, while the Lance's eldest daughter Laurel was intended for one Oliver Jonas Queen.
This is, in brief, the world in which these two women live. Dark and controlled, as though all of humanity are lab rats to be tested and any variation is punished. In a world all about control and efficiency, what happens when one is in love for the first time? When they experience true emotion, not something preprogrammed for them to feel as though they were simple wind-up toys or robots? These were the inquiries floating around in Dinah Laurel Lance's head as she woke up in bed next to Helena Bertinelli on the morning of February 12th, 2017. This couldn't be right, could it? Two women could not produce an heir, but such a union would benefit their parents. Right? There was at least some positives to it. Helena had other ideas.
"What good would it do our families for us to be together in more than a friendly fashion?" The question was unnervingly flat in its delivery, as though she were a GPS device giving someone directions as opposed to a person with motivations and anxieties. One's heart was irrelevant, they had both been taught, and feelings were the most dangerous things in existence, but oh how Helena's heart sang whenever she was in the presence of Laurel. Not that she understood what she felt, it was nevertheless important to her to continue feeling it. Even the inhibitors couldn't prevent such a feeling.
"What even is this, Laurel?"
"This is us," came a slightly less monotone reply.
"It is not the way."
"Perhaps the way is obsolete."
"You sound like one of those terrorists on the news. What's the name of the leader of that particularly bothersome organization Pathos? Damien Darhk, correct?"
"How is a terrorist relevant to this conversation? In fact, how is this conversation relevant in the first place when you have informed me that you have been able to access emotional responses? That said emotional responses are instigated in my presence?"
"Are you implying our inhibitors are malfunctioning?"
"I imply nothing, I am simply aiding you in identifying the crux of your discomfort, Helena."
"Perhaps last night's sexual encounter is the crux of my discomfort. Perhaps we should speak no more of it."
"But? I sense a certain reticence in your voice."
"Perhaps I also enjoyed the encounter and wish to repeat it."
"Perhaps I do as well."
With that, Helena leaned in and kissed Laurel.
"Perhaps the inhibitors are the true problem," Laurel suggested after breaking their kiss. "Perhaps we are indeed meant to experience all that our ancestors did."
Helena thought long and hard about Laurel's argument. "Perhaps this is just as valid as the marriages laid out for us since before birth," the brunette replied. "Perhaps attraction is what makes a good marriage?"
"It would be wise for us to contain such conversation for the privacy of this bed," Laurel sighed as she finally turned over to look at Helena. Her head propped up by her arm; she gazed into the Bertinelli woman's eyes, as did Helena with Laurel. Oceans of brown and green met for a long beat before Helena smiled. A genuine smile, one born of happiness and not societal expectation.
"Yes. We shall do this again. And regularly," Helena kissed Laurel and departed. The blonde watched her leave.
"Perhaps we can be more than what is expected of us."