AN: I'm so sorry about the wait for this chapter. I started a new fitness regimen, and I have been working overtime. Thank you all for being so patient with me. This chapter will get to see Laurel finally start to take her power back and begin her process as the Black Canary. I want to thank you all again for all of your reviews last chapter. I'm so glad so many people are enjoying this story. I really miss Laurel on the show. I'm still angry with how they treated her, and I'm sure next season is going to be some Felicity circle jerk just like the back half of season four. But, it doesn't matter. With the rumors of Black Canary being in the DC cinematic universe, I'm hoping we get great writing for Dinah Laurel Lance.

A Caged Bird

A Rock and a Hard Place

The next morning, Laurel wakes with another hangover. She groans to herself with mild frustration. She glances over to the bottle of wine, and there's this mild temptation to start her day drinking. Laurel sits up and takes the bottle of wine in hand. She's glances at it for a moment.

Laurel remembers her last thoughts before passing out. She had this rather absurd thought that she could be like the vigilante. Maybe she shouldn't still be entertaining that thought, but she does. It will be impossible for her to achieve anything if she continues down this road, and Laurel refuses to keep doing this to herself.

Alcohol cannot be the answer to what has been done to her. Laurel tightens her grip on the bottle and forces herself to stand up. It's hard to walk into the kitchen, and it's even harder to pour the red liquid down her kitchen sink. There's still this part of her that's begging her to replace what she's poured out. She won't let herself.

There has to be another way.

Laurel steadies herself with one hand against the counter. Her mind is racing with ideas. How does one even become a vigilante? Did some injustice happen to The Hood? Was he an ordinary man with a job and a family like her? She wonders what drove him to act. What was it that finally pushed that man over the edge?

Laurel's imagined meeting the real man underneath the hood. He's dressed in a suit sometimes, and other times he's dressed in a t-shirt and blue jeans. She has this idealized vision of a man that is just so good. There's something inside herself that can't see him hurting good people.

If she wanted to be like him, Laurel would first need a costume. She's not even sure where she'd start with that one. Laurel goes to her closet and slides the door opens. She sifts through several different outfits. There's pants, dresses, and dress clothes for work. There's bags from purchases she made right before her kidnapping that have never even been worn.

Laurel slides the closet door closed and goes to her dresser. She pulls open the top drawer and glances down at a that pair of fishnets she wore years ago. She remembers wearing them at one of Oliver's party, and she just couldn't ever bring herself to throw them away.

Laurel takes the fishnets in her hands and sets them on the top of her dresser. She has a few ideas floating in her head on what her vigilante costume might look like. She sees a leather jacket and long thigh high boots to match the fishnets.

The next thought she has is "where would she even start?" Laurel knows that there's this part of her that really wants to save people just like The Hood, but there's also that unresolved anger she has towards Count Vertigo.

Some of her memories with him are foggy, but she remembers some names of men he's worked with. There's also a few locations she remembers that Vertigo took her too. She remembers one of his henchmen snapping his fingers in her face and laughing in amusement that she was rendered absolutely powerless by a drug. Vertigo gave her various commands to follow to demonstrate the extent of his drug.

The man walked up to her till was inches away from her face. "Who you going to prosecute now, bitch?"

Laurel couldn't say anything in anything in response to his taunt. She stood with a vapid smile on her face and both her feet practically glued to the cement floor. She couldn't move or speak. She was powerless.

Laurel shivers at the memory. She takes a deep breath as she tries to trace the location from her cloudy memories. There was a warehouse. There was boxes upon boxes of drugs. Laurel searches her memory for the name of the road that warehouse resided near - Presley Lane.

It's in one of the absolute worst areas of the glades, and it's definitely a place that no one would want to be at night. Laurel's skin crawls at the memory of that day.

Laurel goes to her kitchen and fires up her coffee maker. She refocuses her thoughts as she tries to think of some sort of vigilante plan. If she wants to find Count Vertigo, she'll have to start at that warehouse.

Her father taught her self-defense, and there is that scream she emitted when Sara was kidnapped. If she could throw together a costume and manage to overpower one of Count Vertigo's henchmen, she could find out where he is.

Laurel touches her wrist at the spot where the The Hood injected the vaccination. Count Vertigo can't control her anymore, and she could stop him from continuing his sick crimes. That would be enough for her. If she could put an end that man's crimes, she could move on. Maybe she could get her job back, and she can just be Dinah Laurel Lance again.

Laurel places both of her hands flat on her countertop and breathes. The rational part of her is trying to talk herself out of a potential suicide mission. She could end up dead, or even worse, she could become Vertigo's prisoner once more. Her heart lurches at the thought of that potential outcome.

Laurel remembers the night the vigilante saved her from the penthouse. She'd felt so safe around him from the day he rescued her to the last time she saw him in her apartment.

He's probably trained his entire life. How can she even be so foolish to think that she could be like him? Her entire body tenses as her hands press against her countertop. Anyone would tell her to let this idea go and to move on with her life, but Laurel can't just let it go.

Laurel opens the wooden cabinet above her and takes a ceramic coffee mug. She pours herself a cup of coffee and takes a sip. She needs to do this. If she talks herself out of it, she'll probably keep drinking. She can't do that to herself. Laurel Lance cannot and will not let Count Vertigo reduce her to an alcoholic mess.

Laurel goes to her bedroom and sits on the side of her bed. She sets her coffee mug on her nightstand next to the vigilante's phone. She was supposed to give this to her father. She should make do on that agreement today at least.

Laurel takes her phone in hand. She sends her father a text to meet up.

But, first, she decides she'll go vigilante costume shopping.

…

Laurel's hands grip the steering wheel of her rental car. The rational part of her brain is asking her to go home and call a therapist, because this is the worst possible way she can cope with her trauma. She can't let this go, because if she doesn't hunt Vertigo down, she'll never truly recover.

Laurel mentally counts to three and exits the car. She approaches the costume store. Part of her is convinced that she's just looking, and that she's not actually going to buy anything. That part of her tells her that this is some odd way of coping with her sexual assault and Sara's kidnapping. Then, there's the part of her that craves this like a drug addict - except instead of booze and bills, Laurel craves adrenaline and vengeance.

Laurel tells herself it's normal to feel like this. Isn't anger part of the grieving process? She pulls the door open, and she's bombarded with several colorful costumes. She remembers her Halloween costume - the one with the fishnets. She draws inspiration from that risqué outfit. She thinks maybe instead of a leather skirt to go with a leotard and instead of high heels maybe go with practical boots. Also, she needs a mask. Laurel's alter ego is about to make herself an enemy to the biggest drug traffickers in Starling City. She'll put Sara and her father in her direct path.

Laurel just needs a vigilante name to go with her outfit. She draws a complete blank. Then - it comes to her. Pretty bird. She could name herself after a bird to honor her masked vigilante savior. Raven? No, it sounds way too gothic. Perhaps The Canary. It feels a little like it needs a little bit more. She thinks to her outfit. It is all black. Perhaps...Black Canary.

It does have a nice ring to it.

She thinks to her leotard, her fishnets, and her boots. She feels like it's missing something. She needs a leather jacket? There's one in her closet that she's never worn. She'd bought it a day before…

Her anxiety starts to spike momentarily. Laurel's heart races as she forces the memories of Count Vertigo to the back of her mind. She has to get through this one day without dissolving into a mess of tears and alcohol. Laurel breathes slowly and steadily. He's not here right now, and as far as she knows, she's safe.

And, if he finds her, she'll scream till his ears bleed.

She pictures him crouching as he covers his ears. It eases her anxiety enough so that she can make it to the register and pay for her items. One day she'll make that thought happen, and he'll regret everything he's done to not only her but every one of his victims in her city.

The cashier bags her items and hands the plastic bag to her. They exchange brief words before the cashier hands over her bagged items. Laurel grasps the plastic bag, and suddenly it all starts to feel real to her. She's actually going to do this. A burst of adrenalin rushes through her as she rushes over to the rental car.

Laurel clicks a button on her keyring to unlock her car. She flops down in the leather seats of her rental. She's going to miss this car when the police finally release her Ford back to her. She smiles as she sets her purse and bag of purchases on passenger seat.

She can hear her phone vibrating in her purse. She grabs her phone and sees Dad on her caller ID. She had almost forgot she agrees to meet so that she can give him the vigilante's phone. She tenses at the thought. Her father may feel gratitude towards the vigilante, but she's not sure how he'll feel about working with him. Aside from that, it could get him into a considerable amount of trouble in his department.

Laurel puts her keys in the ignition and fires up her rental car. Adrenaline is still running through her. She puts the car in drive and flies down the road without a care in the world to the speed limit.

…

Laurel had originally thought to meet her father at the station to hand over the phone, but there are too many eyes and cameras. So she settled with asking her father to meet her at the Starbucks a block from his work. She sits with a steaming cup of mocha in her hands as her father's car parks in the lot.

Her father climbs out of his car and spots her through the window. He makes a b-line towards the door and meets her at the table without bother to order a cup of coffee. Laurel debates one last time whether to give her father the phone. On one hand, it will keep him safe in the department. On the other hand, she feels some kind of loyalty to the vigilante. He had asked her to give her father the phone, and besides, shouldn't her dad have a choice in this matter?

Laurel looks towards her dad as he takes a seat across from her at the table. He looks in her eyes, and then, he releases a rough sigh. Her father can read her like a book, and she can already tell that he knows it's something difficult. She sets the phone in front of him on the table. It's black with a hint of green.

"He gave this to you, didn't he?" her father says.

"Not to me," she says. "He asked me to give it you."

Her father pauses for a moment before clearing his throat. "Laurel, I know you look up to this guy, and to an extent I feel like I owe him a huge debt. But, this could get us both in serious trouble."

"You don't have to use it," she says. "He told me it was for you. I thought I'd leave it up to you to decide what to do with it."

"You're putting me between a rock and a hard place. This guy knows things. He solves crimes that puzzle even the best of our department. Working with him could solve a lot of things," her father lowers his eyes to the phone and pauses before saying, "But, this is illegal, Laurel. I know we're both thankful for what he has done for our family. I like the guy just as much as you do, but we can't get too involved with him. Laurel, I'm not sure how many more meetings you've had with this guy…"

"Just one," Laurel interrupts. "After Sara…"

"Okay, one," her father says. "But, that has to be it. If we're seen with him - if there is even an inkling that we've communicated with him - both of us can be charged as accessories to his crimes."

"You can always throw it out," she replies. "Or turn it over to the police. It's not up to me at this point."

"Laurel…" there is a tone of warning in his voice. "Don't - please. Don't get drawn into this guy or pretty soon it might be you in a mask on TV, and I don't want to be the one to put you in jail."

The irony of his statement feels like a punch to the gut. She hadn't even considered that possibility prior to now. She almost wants to take back her plan, but she's already made up her mind. It's too late now. She couldn't stop herself even if the whole world was against her.

"You have your sister. You have Oliver. I know your mom isn't around right now, but you have me," he says. "If you need to find a way cope, we're here for you."

"Dad, I'm fine," it takes everything for her to steady her voice. "I just - well - just take it or leave it."

Laurel pulls her purse over her shoulder as she stands. Her father looks up at her with concern. Laurel takes in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, dad."

Her father rises from the table and puts his arms around her. "It's okay, sweetie. I'm just worried. I know things are difficult for you right now."

Her father parts from her and places a hand on her shoulder. He smiles down at her. "I have to get back to work, Laurel. You can call me if you need anything."

Laurel nods to her father. She hates that she's going to be a wanted woman behind a mask. She hates that she'll put her father in the position where he'll have to investigate her alter ego. If she still had faith in the courts and the justice system, she wouldn't put her father through this.

"I love you, Laurel," he says. "You are my world."

"I love you too, dad."

Laurel takes the coffee from her table. She looks up at her dad. He eyes her with worry. She musters a fake smile. She'll be okay - as soon as she gets justices - she'll be okay. This is just to get vengeance. Then, she'll stop. She need this though, and unfortunately, she will become a wanted criminal. She hopes for her sake that her father won't be the one to catch her if the day comes where she's finally caught.

...

Endnotes: Thank you all again for being patient. The next chapter is going to be really fun. Laurel will get to kick ass. Thank you again for all your reviews. They really keep me going!