"The Fatal Wound" (Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Thea Queen, John Diggle and Eve Diggle)
Writer's Notes: This is not the introduction of our character, EVE, but this is the birth of her character. This is the first piece written about EVE, and is subject to change when I incorporate this into her story. This is the first piece I wrote before I started writing her actual introduction chapter.
The air was still, my breathing faded into the darkness, and panic consumed me. It was happening again, this disgusting, nostalgic, feeling, and there was nothing I could do, even breathing became hard and slow. The GHOST henchman in front of me was no longer a concern of mine, I blocked his attack and shoved him into the wall, anxiously looking around the room. My eyes desperately tried to search every inch of this god forsaken room, looking for the anomaly, but they couldn't move fast enough - I was always too late.
My voice couldn't escape my throat fast enough, and my feet couldn't leap from the floor quick enough. I could feel them, the hot tears, seething out from my eyes, I could feel it. It was happening all over again. The cries in my throat couldn't come out the way I wanted them to, it was ugly, it was screechy, and it was small - like it always is . . .
"Black Canary!"
There he was, standing over her body as it fell back to the floor, Darhk.
Air vacuumed into my lungs, the tears steamed down my face and I couldn't move. I could see it, the blur of neon green flying into her side. The little flicker of life, fleeting from her eyes. And I couldn't do anything. I couldn't ever do anything.
Dragging me to my knees, my tears fell and all the air I had left in me heaved out a loud uncontrollable sob. I've lost many people, I've watched so many people I love die and every time I was powerless - but why her, why did I have to lose her, why did I have to feel even more powerless with her?
A punch landed against my head, and an unearthly roar escaped my lungs, and my joust found it's way through the GHOST henchman, his innards smeared on the other side. Holding his body close, his eyes against mine, I watched fear consume him, the last bits of life fading alongside any humanity I had left in me.
Not her, anyone but her.
For the first time in six months, my shoulders felt heavy, how nostalgic, with the deadweight in my robotic limbs, I slid the garbage off my joust, my soul following after. I couldn't find the strength to turn around, to see her, I couldn't bare it. I was losing another person, all over again - no, I wasn't losing another person, I was losing her.
I could hear Speedy's uneven breathing, I could hear Diggle's clenched fist, I could hear Oliver's heart fluttering frantically, and I could hear her blood, gurgling in her throat, her wound bleeding, and her heart slipping away. Now, tell me, how I could bare to see it, did I want to see it, would I ever question myself if I chose not to have this image? Did I really want to remember her this way, did I really want to have this be the last image of her, did I really want this?
I don't want this.
Laurel left before I could. Laurel told me life is worth living, but what happens when the people you're living for die before you can even get to that point? Life. Is it really worth living without her smile?
I don't want this, but I need this, this is for me.
My gut twisted and I swallowed back the feeling of regret, this is what I needed - I needed to see her. Turning to face her, the rumble in my throat found it's way out in a lame whimper, choking on my tears, I silently screamed watching Oliver comfort Laurel.
No, God, please no. If there really is a God out there, save her, save her.
Oliver scooped Laurel into his arms and rushed out the building, it was the first time he wished he was the Flash and not the Green Arrow - it was the first time I was rooting for him.