Disclaimer: Don't own it.
Well, here it is. There's a few endnotes for the chapter you can read when this is done (or skipping ahead, if you feel like it).
Vigilantes Dawn was an idea, and I kicked it around for a good while before writing it. And then I started. And it has been one of my more popular works these last few years. If not for you, my readers, and especially for the support and encouragement of the people in the Lauriver Discord Server, this story might not have been finished, and it certainly wouldn't have been finished now. Their support - and their help with moments of writer's block or when I'm unsure about a scene - has been essential to the completion of and quality of this story.
For those of you who are preemptively mourning the end of the fic, don't worry. There will be a sequel. Multiple sequels, in fact. More on that in the endnotes.
Vigilantes' Dawn
By Kylia
Chapter 32: The Age of Superheroes Begins
Henri Chaudhari: Some of the critics of your most recent work, 'The Age of Superheroes: Dawn of the Vigilante' have argued that it's not really a work of history, and certainly not very academic. Dr. Fellipe Vasquez at Harvard School for Vigilante Research even called it 'psuedophilisophical drivel', and claimed that to call it even pop history would be an insult to pop history. What do you have to say to that?
Diana Queen: *laughs* Well, I'd say my critics are right that it isn't really a work of academic history. Not in the same way as, say, my various published articles, the Frostbite biography I published two years ago - which outsold Dr. Vasquez's book on the history of Lian Yu by about a hundred and sixty-odd thousand copies, I might mention - or the book on the passage of the Vigilante Incorporation Act of 2031 I co-wrote with Dr. Stein six years ago. It's history, yes, and Dr. Vasquez is wrong, as he often is, *Henri laughs* but my critics are not wrong when it isn't academic. I certainly plan to do more with the memoirs, and I fully intend to make them available to others. I'm in the process of donating them to Starling City University's libraries, and any interested scholar can check them, and copies will be produced.
Regardless, yes, the Age of Superheroes was always meant to be more of an accessible work - when Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance set out to do what they did, they were treading new ground, blazing new paths and struggling with the kinds of complicated questions that today, we've largely answered. I didn't feel I could be true to the struggles my Great-Grandparents had without addressing those questions. The digressions are indeed quite casual, but I considered it more an ongoing conversation with the reader, rather than the more lecturing style of my other work.
Chaudhari: Certainly quite a complete answer. I do see your point - your writing has always been quite accessible, but this one was written with a broad audience in mind. Speaking of broad audiences - in a way - unlike many others who have tackled the same topic, you disagree with the popular image that paints Malcolm Merlyn as a mastermind, scheming and plotting. You explicitly refuse to call him a Chessmaster. This flies in the face of Dr. Stein's book - the one you yourself said made you want to work in this field - 'Merlyn: The Life and Times of the First Supervillain' - for instance. You make quite the case against this consensus, so I won't ask you to hash it out again - the curious can read your book and judge for themselves - but I do want to ask - does this mean you disagree also with Dr. Stein's conclusion that had Merlyn managed to successfully fake his death, as he was supposedly planning in those last hours, he'd have been a major threat to the Hood and The Black Canary for years to come?
Queen: Well, with all respect to Dr. Stein - and I have nothing but respect for the research that went into that biography - I'm not convinced Merlyn was at all capable of being self-aware enough to realize faking his own death was his best way out. But, that said, I don't disagree he would have been a major threat. Merlyn was not, to my contention, a true Chessmaster. His overreliance on people acting exactly as he expected them too, even when he was right how they'd act, shows his inflexibility. But he could plan, and if his quest to make himself feel better through mass murder had failed, he'd have been able to dedicate all of his time and energy to making the people who had ruined his plan suffer. I have to imagine he'd have ensured Moira Queen was executed, rather than acquitted, would have probably ruined Thea Queen's life by outting her as his daughter, and no doubt sabotaged every effort the Green Arrow and Black Canary made to beat the various threats to Starling City that rose up in subsequent years. He was lethally capable in a fight, and without anything to ground him, could very well have fought hit and run for years, but in the end, all he'd have been was a bitter, spiteful husk of a man - which, as Dr. Stein points out, is really all he ever was.
-Excerpt from the interview of Diana Queen, PhD by Henri Chaudhari in January 2124 Issue of Superology Magazine, after her book "Age of Superheroes: The Dawn of the Vigilante" hit the bestseller list.
April 14th, 2013
Warehouse, Starling City
Oliver hated this.
He hated that it had come to this.
He'd done everything he could to shelter his family from his actions as the Hood, even when it turned out his mother had been hip deep in everything - even if likely because of his father's own actions. He still didn't have a complete picture of how that had happened.
And he likely never would, since Merlyn was going to have to die as soon as possible.
But now - now it was all going to come down on his mother. He could only hope that the public would cut her some small slack for coming forward at all. And if her warning could save enough lives...
Oliver took a breath and tested the rope tying his hands behind the chair. Sturdy and convincing. He nodded to Laurel, "Alright. I'm ready."
Laurel nodded and pulled a blindfold around his eyes, tying it. He heard Diggle's footsteps coming towards them.
"As long as you don't look at the camera directly, you should be good," Laurel said.
"I feel ridiculous in this," Diggle muttered. "How do you go out in this every night and not feel like you're doing Halloween early?"
"Habit," Oliver admitted. The first time he'd worn the Hood as a protector of his identity, after Hong Kong, he'd felt more than a little absurd, but it was tempered against everything he'd been through the preceding three years.
"Well, hopefully it's a habit I won't have to develop," Diggle muttered. "Alright. I'm ready." Diggle added, this time through the voice modulator, making it clear that he had that set up.
"Video set up and being streamed to a secure website," Felicity said, over a speaker phone. She wasn't in the room, still back at the Foundry, but she was playing a key role in getting his mother the proof that her son was being threatened with death. "Once you send the link to Mrs. Queen... then she'll have proof you're threatening to kill her son." She stumbled over that part a little.
"Alright. Thank you." Laurel hung up and used the secure phone to dial Oliver's mothers phone, holding it out on speaker phone.
"Moira Queen speaking," his mother's voice on the other line. "Who is this?"
"Mom?" Oliver said, in a plaintive, shaky tone, sounding afraid for his life but trying to put up a good face on it. Having been in such situations before... it wasn't hard to recall them and sound like it, more or less.
"Oliver!? What's- is something wrong? Are you okay?"
"He's fine, for now," Diggle said, modulated, sounding like the Hood had that night she'd been confronted in her office. "Whether he stays that way is an open question."
"You-!" His mother let out a half-strangled sound of anger that broke off into almost a sob of terror as she realized who had her son, what it might mean. "I - I told you everything I know!"
"You did, but things have changed," Diggle replied. "You're going to get a text containing a link. Open it." Oliver hissed involuntarily as he felt the tip of an arrow press against his neck - Diggle had placed it so that even if his hand slipped, Oliver wasn't actually in that much danger of dying, but it would look convincing to his mother over the camera.
This is the only option. Oliver reminded himself. And...
Morally, if people died from the coming earthquake, wasn't his mother at least a little responsible? She'd had five years to come forward - threats to herself, her family... they only covered you so much. Her attempt to have Merlyn killed was something - though not really something that could be used at her trial - but still.
I didn't want this to happen, to her, to Thea, but... there's no other choice.
Diggle had already delivered the information to ARGUS through Lyla Michaels, and they were probably already at work going through it, verifying it - Oliver wasn't concerned that they'd be able to take down Merlyn before Oliver and Laurel could. They didn't know Merlyn was the Dark Archer, and would underestimate him.
Sara was on her way to get the information to the SCPD, but even then, they weren't going to order an evacuation - not until everything was at least partially verified. Not with an area as big as the Glades.
"Oliver!" His mother's voice could be heard over the phone, and clearly, she'd opened the link and could see him, see the threat the Hood was making.
"Mom, I-!" Oliver started, but then he was cut off by Diggle pressing the arrow into his neck just a tiny bit harder.
"Quiet," Diggle growled, and then he looked back to the camera. "The Undertaking happens in less than eighteen hours. Both devices have already been set."
"I was promised you'd-"
"You were promised we'd do everything we could," Laurel cut in, stepping into view of the camera, full Black Canary outfit, also using a modulator, as she only occasionally did. "But things have changed, like the Hood said. Dealing with Merlyn is something we can do. But getting everyone out of the Glades, in the time left?" The Black Canary shook her head.
They'd debated telling his mother that they had the location of one device and were going to be disarming it in short order - assuming ARGUS didn't beat them to it -
"The police won't exactly trust anything we give them, and they'll take too long to verify the information. If we give it to the press, again, too slow." Diggle growled. "So the choice is simple - tell everyone. Call a press conference, call the police - you can get reporters and cameras from every network in the city in less than an hour. Tell the city what's going to happen, warn the people of the Glades that they need to evacuate, and your son lives."
"Please! Please don't - you can't -" His mother begged, and Oliver was glad they weren't doing this in person, which had been the first idea. He had a harder time than he'd ever had, almost, resisting the urge to react, hearing the terror in his mother's voice.
"Your son is innocent, but you aren't!" Diggle growled. "You had five years to come clean, to stop this, and you didn't, and now we're forcing your hand!" He pressed the arrow into Oliver's neck again and Oliver let out a pained gasp, exaggerating it more than a little for the cameras.
"Please, don't-" Oliver begged, but Laurel covered his mouth with her gloved hand, cutting him off.
"Silence," she said, going with the plan. Oliver had to act believable, including trying to speak as his life was under threat,even afraid, but not letting him actually say much would make this more believable.
Laurel looked back at the camera. "I don't kill, and I don't want to let the Hood kill an innocent man, but when it comes down to it, your son'[s life against the lives of everyone who lives in the Glades? Every second we waste is one less second for people to escape the Glades alive."
"I- I" His mother stammered, and then he heard it, "I'll do it! Just please - let him go! Don't hurt my son!"
Diggle relaxed the arrow, though it was still at his neck.
Laurel went on: "He'll be released the moment we see your press conference. And he'll be unharmed as long that conference happens within two hours from now."
"If you hurt him at all..." his mother warned, though the threat didn't mean much, despite her tone.
"We won't, as long as you do what you're supposed to do." Laurel shut off the camera and hung up the phone, cutting off the feed. Then she untied Oliver and removed the blindfold.
"So what's next?" Diggle asked, turning off the modulator and removing the green hood.
"You're going to find Thea and stay with her," Oliver said. "Mom will be fine until the press conference, and then she'll be in police custody - she'll be safe there long enough for us to stop Merlyn. But if he sends someone for her... or tries to come for her."
"Don't try to fight Merlyn. Run, and keep her safe." Laurel warned.
"This guy beat you both, I'mnot going to try to face him one on one." Diggle agreed. "Give me an M72 LAW and maybe I'll consider it," he added with a chuckle.
"We're fresh out of anti-tank weapons," Laurel replied, also smirking a moment, the small joke defusing a tiny bit of the tension.
"Call Sara," Oliver suggested to Laurel, getting up out of the chair. "If we time her disarming of the device we know about for when we go after Merlyn, the chances of him reacting to that and activating the other device early are lower."
"Agreed," Laurel nodded.
Oliver inhaled. Everything came down to this. The whole last year was done to this. Everything since he and Laurel had gotten on the Queen's Gambit was down to this. Merlyn had to die - for his crimes, and for Laurel's safety from the League.
Starling City Police Department
April 14th, 2013
"Dad, you have a minute?" Sara asked, finding her father at his desk. She tried to sound casual, but from the look on her father's face, he was getting the note of urgency she was trying to tamp down on.
"Sara? Something wrong?"
"Outside, in the back," Sara said in a murmur. "Please?"
Now she really had his attention. He stood up from his desk quickly and followed her to the back door, outside, fortunately no one else was around just this second. Laurel took a flash drive containing a copy of all the evidence they had.
"Two hours ago, I got a call from the Black Canary." Sara said softly.
"Sara! You - so you were working together the other night!?"
"No! I told IA the truth - that was an accident. But I did - I did work with her before. Remember Peter Declan?"
Her father furrowed his brow a moment, then nodded. "The guy who was on death row for killing his wife, turned out to be her boss, that Jason Brodeur scumbag." Then it clicked. "Matt Istook, he was the wife's old supervisor, he testified that the Hood threatened him at a train track. You gave the Black Canary his name." It wasn't a question, just an accusation.
"I did." Sara confirmed. "And she and the Hood helped with Garfield Lyons."
"You're working with that psycho? And you're telling *me*? Sara, I should be turning you in right now!" Her father hissed. "He's a murderer, and his girlfriend isn't much better!"
"If it wasn't for them, and the fact that I could reach out to them both, then Laurel or I or both of us could have died when Vanch kidnapped her!" Sara shot back. "I'm not going to apologize for doing what I could to stop that!" Sara shot back. She inhaled.
"Well - no, I can't say that's something -" Her father started and then he glared at her, obviously upset at her argument and his lack of a response.
"Dad, if you want to berate me, or turn me in or anything else you want to do, you can." Sara said. "I stand by helping them and accepting their help, and I'm not going to apologize for it." Her father started to say something, but Sara barrelled forward before he could get the words out. "But right now, we have bigger problems, because in about seventeen hours, give or take, according to the Black Canary, the Glades are going to be leveled."
Her father started at her. "Leveled? What the hell are you-"
"It's all here," She handed the flash drive to him, pressing it into his hand. "I looked over the evidence, and I'm convinced - it sounded insane when she told me, and it sounded insane when I looked at it, but those are files from Merlyn's own private, secure server. He has a device that can create artificial earthquakes. Two devices. They know where one is planted, in the old subway tunnels at Puckett Station." Sara said. "But they don't know where the other one is, and there's no guarantee they'll find it in time."
"Artificial earthquakes? Sara, are you hearing yourself? Hooded vigilantes, mad science weapons, what the hell is this?"
"Apparently, it's our lives for the moment," Sara replied dryly, unable to stop the sarcasm - the absurdity of all this still didn't sit right with her, but reality was what it was. "Look at the evidence yourself if you don't believe me. But we need to evacuate the Glades, and get to the people behind it - not just Merlyn. Before he kills them or they go to ground."
Her father searched her expression. "I should report you for this. God help me, I should report us both, I helped the Hood once, gave him evidence he used to try to track down that Dark Archer bastard, for all the good it did-"
"Merlyn." Sara interjected. "According to this, Merlyn is the Dark Archer."
"Merlyn's a jackass CEO one percenter, but now you're telling me he runs around shooting arrows in people and he's gonna level the Glades with an earthquake machine? Just what the hell is this supposed to be all about!?"
"If I had to guess? The death of his wife," Sara supplied. "I always knew she died in the Glades, but after I got this, I looked it up. She died just above where Puckett Station is. Bled out to death. No one helped her."
"I'm familiar with the case," Lance admitted. He grabbed at his temple with one hand, the other hand pinching the bridge of his nose while still holding the flash drive. "Jesus Christ Sara, I know I questioned your choice of friend in high school and college sometimes, but this -" he inhaled. "We're not done talking about this, but... you believe all this... insanity about Merlyn and earthquakes. I'll check this, quick as I can..." he swallowed. "And then I'll take it to Pike. Tell him I got a call from the Hood, this drive was left at a drop."
"Dad-" Sara started, but her father cut her off.
"If I told IA everything you just told me- at a minimum you're kicked out of the force and they turn your life upside down. But they're just as likely to arrest you for aiding and abetting. I'm not..." He inhaled. "You didn't kill anyone, and I'm not seeing you go to prison for this. We are going to talk about this," he repeated. "But right now, if you're right, we don't have time for it."
"That doesn't mean you have to-"
"No, it doesn't, but I've got some favors left with the captain, and no track record of having had any interaction with the vigilantes that wasn't hostile - even when he told me about that sniper at that fancy auction, it was at the point of an arrow digging into my back. I'll be covered with Internal Affairs. Suspension, maybe a demotion for a bit, but it's sure as hell better than anything that could happen with you." He inhaled and then, "Even with what little they've got, there's some people at IA just about licking their chops for an excuse to investigate you."
Her father inhaled slowly. "I'm not gonna give them an excuse."
Sara blinked quickly, feeling what might have been the start of a small tear forming, though thankfully nothing else, and she nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Then,
"I'm sorry." She knew telling her dad the truth was going to disappoint him, and upset him, and that wasn't what she'd wanted, nor had she wanted him to take the metaphorical bullet for her. But she couldn't...
"Sara, I'm angrier than I want to think about right now with you about all this," her father admitted. "But there's one thing that isn't going to change, so don't think it will - you're still my little girl, and I'm still going to love you." Sara nodded, and then before she realized what was happening, her father had pulled her in for a quick hug, before stepping back.
"Alright. I'm going back in." He turned around and went inside. Sara didn't go in, needing a moment to gather her thoughts. She wasn't as confident as her dad was that he'd have no fallout, but he was right that he'd probably be better insulated.
She spent the next thirty-odd minutes in suspense, her heart pounding fast enough to beat out of her chest,or so it felt, feeling jittery like when she downed way too many espresso shots to cram for an exam, but she'd barely had any coffee today. She tried to focus on the case in front of her - normal murders didn't stop because Malcolm Merlyn was a psychopath - but the words on the witness statements, the photos of the crime scene - they blurred together for her, it was impossible to get anywhere, so she just ended up shuffling around the papers and pretended to be looking busy.
Her father had gone into Captain Pike's office after fifteen minutes to look over the drive. That wouldn't have been enough time to verify it, but he believed her when she'd told him - truthfully - it was legitimate information.
And then someone said something from the break room. "Holy shit! Guys! Channel 7!"
The press conference. Well, they'd know she could go fast.
Sara pulled up a live news feed from their website on her computer. Moira Queen was standing in her office at Queen Consolidated, and she could hear the murmur of assembled press and camera people, see the flashes of photos being taken of the CEO, as she was speaking.
"...and the lives of my family, I have been complicit in an undertaking with one horrible purpose." She paused a moment, and Sara knew she wasn't hesitating - Mrs. Queen had come this far - but she clearly had to pause a moment to cross that final line. "To destroy the Glades and everyone in it."
"But I realize - my family's safety... it's not enough. Not against the lives of those who will die if I let this dreadful act occur." Kind of late for that, especially given the real reason you're doing this. But there wasn't much bite. She'd seen how much Moira cared about her children, and she had been honest when she said she couldn't imagine what this had been like for the woman, but it would have had to have been hell.
And she had tried to put a stop to this, even knowing the risk.
Sara wanted to believe that Moira Queen just needed that extra push to do the right thing - it was impossible to say, but it was a preferable thought to the alternative.
"But what you need to know is that the architect of this nightmare is Malcolm Merlyn," there were several sounds of surprise from the assembled reporters, and people starting to ask questions, but she went forward, ignoring them. "And I have proof that he has arranged the deaths of dozens of people as part of this plot - including Adam Hunt, Frank Chen... and my husband, Robert Queen."
Sara tensed, and she could've heard a pen drop in the main room of the station, everyone watching the screen in the breakroom - it was always on one news channel or another, people catching a glimpse of the headlines as they poured themselves a cup of coffee or had a quick bite to eat - or on their computers, or phones.
"Please... if you reside in the Glades, you need to get out now. Your lives and the lives of your children depend on it. Please." She finished her statement and as people started shouting questions at her, but instead she was moving away, and a detective she vaguely recognized and a uniformed officer approached her and spoke quietly too her, too quiet to be picked up by the hubbub around her, and then she was walked away, out of her office, out of sight from the cameras.
Everyone was silent for a moment, and then the station exploded with conversation, confusion, questions - fortunately, it didn't take long for Captain Pike to hear from the commissioner. A whole team was being dispatched to bring Merlyn in, complete with SWAT, in case he had protection of some sort, and just above everyone else was being pulled off whatever they were doing to help organize evacuation.
The Glades was going to be chaos - everyone was going to be trying to leave, but someone would take advantage, try to steal, or worse, the entire district would be insane, and the SCPD was not equipped to try to control it given what was going to happen.
She caught her father's gaze from across the room as people moved on their assignments, and he gave her a look.
"They didn't let you in on this?"
"They didn't say anything about it to me," Sara told him. "If I'd known... there'd have been a lot less urgency."
"I told Pike that the Hood said Merlyn was the Dark Archer over the phone, but I'm not sure he believed me about that. Then again, he realized the drive was true when that press conference came up so..."
Her father looked away, "They're going for him, aren't they?"
Sara nodded. "That's what they said."
"God help me, but I sure as hell hope they get to him before SWAT does." Her father murmured. Then he shook his head. "Right, we've got thousands of people to evacuate. Where did Pike assign you?"
"East side, Malden Street," Sara answered. "I'm about to head there now."
"Good. EOD's going to Puckett Station, and we've got people trying to figure out where the other device will be," her father shook his head. "This is still insane."
Sara laughed humorlessly, "Dad, I think sanity went out the door the day a pair of masked vigilantes saved Oliver, Laurel and Tommy from kidnappers."
"Damnit if you're not right," Her father muttered, and then they separated, off to their respective assignments.
As Sara got into her car, her phone started ringing. Sara looked at the ID. Tommy.
Fuck.
Sara answered on speaker as she started the car.
"Tommy, I really don't have time to talk," She said quickly. "If you're in Verdant, get out, now."
"That's easier said than done, the entire area around the club is starting to go insane!" Tommy replied. "What the hell was Mrs. Queen thinking, accusing my father of - what the hell is going on? Dad's not a killer!"
"You know Oliver's Mom, do you think she'd lie about that?" Sara shot back, "on live TV, right before calmly walking away with the cops?"
"My dad's a coldhearted bastard most of the time, the last few months kind of notwithstanding, but he's not - he's not a murderer, and he's certainly not capable of killing Mr. Queen! Oliver's dad was his best friend!" Tommy replied. "
"If there's one thing I know after even just a short time in the SCPD, you never know what people are capable of until they do it," Sara said, without saying what she wanted to say which was that Tommy's father was a monster. "Look, Tommy, I'm on my way, I'll try to clear a path, or something. Is there anyone else in the club with you?"
"A couple of the staff, but they moved the moment the press conference ended. I... I'm still sitting on the stool." Tommy admitted. "This - this can't be real. Someone has to have made a mistake."
"Tommy, I get that this is your dad, but how much do you really know him? You've told me he's practically a stranger a dozen times over the last six years, something like that." Sara wished she could just grab him by the shoulders and shake him, scream at him to realize what his father was.
"I know him well enough to-" Tommy cut himself off. "Why are you so convinced that it's true?"
"Because I don't think Mrs. Queen would lie about it," Sara replied quickly.
"No - no, more than that." Tommy replied. "You believe her completely. What do you know?"
Sara bit her lip, hesitated, then, decided to be honest without the truth. "The Black Canary. She gave me a file of evidence three hours ago. It had the whole story - everything your father was up to. It - the evidence was -"
"And you just believed-" Tommy started, cut himself off and then started again.
"Laurel."
Sara blinked. Shit.
"What does-"
"Don't even," Tommy said quickly. "There's only a few people you'd trust enough to just accept information like that, and Laurel's the only one who could be the Black Canary." He gave a humorless laugh, "Which means Oliver really is the Hood. How - How long have you known? Did you know the whole time?!" He demanded.
"Tommy, if you want to be mad at me, you can. I can't stop you from being mad at Oliver or Laurel either, but right now, you need to get out of the Glades!" Sara was running her siren, but the streets of the city weren't exactly clear even outside the glades, with people living near them trying to run just as much, and other people freaking out in general.
"I'll get out on my own," Tommy said, a little flatly. "Just tell me this - are they going to kill him? Are two of my best friends going to kill my father?"
Sara inhaled sharply, then let out the breath, swallowing slightly, but after the long pause, she nodded, even if Tommy couldn't see that, and made an affirmative noise.
"Yes," she added. "They... they will."
Tommy hung up the phone.
Merlyn Global Group, Starling City
April 14th, 2013
"I've got the last of the most important things and I'm on my way out," Felicity said over the comms, as Laurel walked into Merlyn Global Group, in broad daylight, in costume. Sara had confirmed that the device they knew the location of would be disarmed, and soon. So now was the time to deal with Merlyn, before he had a chance to get away.
"Good. But - Felicity, are you sure you can get out okay? The Glades are... the chaos in the streets-" Laurel asked, concerned for the hacker - this was the sort of thing she wasn't equipped to deal with. She couldn't exactly defend herself if a bunch of thugs tried to rob her, at least not against many. She had a taser and by Laurel's estimation wasn't half-bad with it, but there was only so much one taser could do.
"I'm about as sure as I can be?" Felicity offered. "One of the advantages of driving an SUV is that people make way, so I should... hopefully be fine." Felicity chuckled nervously, "You two are the ones about to go up against a mass murdering crazy terrorist guy." Laurel could hear Felicity swallow. "...Good luck, both of you." Laurel heard the comms switch off on Felicity's end, for the moment.
The lobby of Merlyn Global was empty of people, trashed, with papers, chairs, tossed bins and garbage scattered everywhere. People had started fleeing the moment Mora Queen''s press conference hit - believing it, or just being afraid of the fallout of the police coming for Merlyn or the public's reaction.
At this point, there was no concern about raising an alarm - the solution for getting to the top would be quite simple. Elevator to the 24th floor, and then force open the emergency stairway access door and go up to the 25th.
Laurel wasn't sure if Merlyn would still be here, but Oliver was certain he would be. He wouldn't be at the Manor - Merlyn was fanatical about showing up to work early and staying there all way, until late. And unless he was going to find Thea to punish Moira - not impossible, which was hy Diggle was on her - he would want to fight the people who had ruined his plan.
And since he didn't know where the Hood and the Black Canary were, he'd want them to come to him.
Which meant, at least for a brief time, he'd be here.
The argument made sense, but there was really only one way to know.
The elevator door dinged open, and Laurel stepped in with Oliver, the whole experience of riding an elevator to this fight feeling surreal, like something out of a parody of an action movie.
Here we are, in our 'superhero costumes' set to face a mass murderer down in a fight to the death,and we're getting there by an elevator. And because time always seemed to work like that, the ride that was, technically, brief, stretched on for forever.
It felt absurd.
Laurel closed her eyes one last moment and centered herself. The League had taught her many ways to bring herself under control before a fight, and she couldn't afford even a little laxity. They'd faced Merlyn before, and he'd nearly killed Oliver. She could very easily have been the one nearly killed, if things had gone slightly different.
And this time, 'nearly killed' wasn't going to be enough.
Nor for them, and not for him.
Finally, the forever ended and the elevator dinged, indicating they were on the 24th floor.
"This way," Oliver murmured, void modulator on, gesturing down the hall. They passed through the hallways - here, the place wasn't trashed, at least not like the lobby had been, but doors were closed, and Laurel could hear murmurs from behind a few. People hiding, or hunkering down or at least trying to stay in their offices until all this was over.
Breaking open the emergency stairway door set off an alarm, the sound blaring in their ears, but from there it was a short matter to go up to the top floor by stair, break another door and find themselves in the executive suites.
Unfortunately, on this floor, they actually had signs of something more than just people running or hiding. In the hallway outside of Merlyn's office entrance, they passed a dead SWAT officer, his throat slashed, hand bloody, like he'd tried to hold his throat shut for a moment, to no avail. And then another, his hand hacked to the bone and a deep cut to his side. Laurel thought he might barely still be alive, but she couldn't stop to help him. She had nothing to help him with and -
I'm sorry.
They stepped into Merlyn's office. More bodies - two more swat, and several uniformed officers, and at least two detectives. At least seven bodies, with arrows in them, or sword slashes. The office had been shot up, Merlyn's desk shattered, statues knocked off, the head knocked off another statue.
There was a TV playing a feed from a local traffic helicopter, but it was showing the chaos in and around the Glades as people panicked and tried to flee, others tried to loot as they went, fires, chaos.
And there was Merlyn.
He stood behind the ruin of his desk, wearing the League uniform, but no hood. He wasn't trying to hide his identity now.
"And here you are. So predictable." Merlyn said with a smirk. He gestured to the TV, "These are the people you're so determined to save. Reacting with violence, theft. Like animals."
"Funny how when you cage and mistreat an animal, it doesn't always react well," Laurel countered, her hands going to the Hilts of her tonfas. She heard Oliver pull back the string to his bow, but Merlyn didn't react. He didn't seem worried.
"You spent five years on this plan, and wasted how much money and resources?" Laurel went on. "You could have done so much for the Glades with that."
"I told you both once, on Christmas Eve, that what you two are doing can't bring justice to the city. You're just fighting the symptoms of the problem."
"And you're the disease," Oliver replied coldly, then shot the arrow. Predictably, Merlyn moved too quickly and evaded it, and then battle was joined - Merlyn threw two knives, one after the other, at them each, and Laurel dropped and rolled, jumping back up and lunging for him as he blocked her attacks, kicking at her leg and sending her reeling. Oliver took the opening to fire another arrow at him, which he once more avoided.
What followed was a flurry of blows and blocks as both Laurel and Oliver went on the attack, Oliver using his bow as a weapon up close as well as punching and kicking, Laurel striking with her tonfas, and Merlyn fighting back with bow, hand and foot. But their offense was soon pushed back to defense as Merlyn forced them onto the back foot, swinging out, keeping them on their guards - it was all they could do to avoid giving him ground, any prospect of attack lost as a jab got through Laurel's guard and got her in the gut, and then Merlyn managed to knock Oliver's legs out from under him, sending the green archer sprawling.
It was only a moment, but Merlyn used that moment well, throwing another knife at Laurel - she managed to avoid it only by dropping to the ground entirely -and then he moved to the wall, a section open and running into it. They were both after hm in moments, revealing a room with a fan, part of the building's central air no doubt, on one end, the room itself lined with weapons - swords of all types - katanas, scimitars, a broadsword, jian, dao, and a tulwar, among others. Several bows, of many styles. A mannikin that had no doubt once played host to Merlyn's league uniform when he wasn't wearing it.
Merlyn now stood at one end, his bow slung over his back once more, and a sword in hand - a katana.
"Five years. Almost six, and you both ruined it all in a day." Merlyn said, a combination of cold, icy anger and amazed wonder underlying his words.
Laurel considered her options. She hadn't brought her swords with her - she'd brought a few knives, for when the fight came to that moment, if she had to be the one to kill Merlyn, but despite knowing she might need them, she hadn't been able to bring herself to take them out into the field.
"How did you manage to get Moira to confess, to sign the death warrants for her entire family?" Merlyn asked, coldly. Laurel was about to answer as she sheathed her tonfas, but Oliver beat her to it.
"By being her family," Oliver said, turning the voice modulator off. Oliver! Laurel looked at him a moment, unable to believe that he was doing this, and yet, he was. Oliver pulled down his hood, revealing his face, his identity.
"Oliver..." Merlyn stared at him. Laurel stepped closer to the swords and moved her hand slowly to the hilt of a scimitar that looked close enough to the ones she was used to. He laughed, looking to Laurel. "Miss Lance," he added. He gave a quiet laugh. "If only I had known what you two were doing with your nights..." he shook his head. "I suppose it's too late."
"It was too late the day you murdered Robert Queen and damned us both to five years in hell," Laurel replied coldly, pulling the scimitar from it's holder on the table, giving it an experimental twirl as he spoke. "It was too late the day you decided to murder thousands of people - innocent people - as revenge."
"Murder?" Merlyn laughed, "This isn't murder, this is justice. True justice is balance - eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, a life for a life."
"And yet, you'll kill everyone in the Glades for your wife." Oliver countered. Laurel saw him lower his bow, slowly. What is he doing?
"I'll kill everyone in the Glades because they're a cancer, rotting at this city's heart!" Merlyn shot back, starting to shout. "I'll kill everyone in the Glades because they spend all their time feeding on each other, like rats and cockroaches, making their own homes worse. They are the root of their own failures, and they destroy everyone and everything they touch!"
Merlyn inhaled sharply, "My wife gave everything to the Glades, and the people that lived there. And they killed her. They left her there, bleeding out, dying, alone, begging for her life! My only regret is that no plan I could create was ever going to give them what they really deserved - to die cold, afraid and alone, like she did!" He was practically screaming, all composure gone.
"And now," he said, returning to a more level tone with every word, "and now you both destroyed everything I sought to build- but the Glades will still suffer. Because you'll never find the other device." He smirked, smug in his confidence that at least some part of his plan would work.
"Maybe not," Oliver growled,"But you won't live to see anyone else die," moving almost too quickly to follow,Oliver pulled a flechette from around his wrist and flung it at Merlyn - and this time, he didn't manage to dodge entirely - the small sharp blade embedded into his shoulder - Merlyn made no noticeable reaction to the pain, instead, he was moving. Laurel and Oliver both charged at him, on either side of the table, but Merlyn was moving, running once more, another exit, stairs going up - the rooftop.
He was going to die, there.
They were on his heels, coming out onto the roof right after him, not giving him a moment to ready himself - but as he turned around and swung at them with his sword, it was clear he could manage without it.
Laurel blocked the blow with her own blade, kicking out at him as OIiver attacked him from the side, but Merlyn stepped back, avoiding Laurel's kick and trying to knock Oliver's bow from his hands. He failed, but Oliver had to pull back a moment himself, to avoid the attack, and then they closed at eachother again, swinging, metal clashing on metal, every attack blocked.
Merlyn, despite being older, was proving that he was just as fast as Laurel and still possibly better, blocking her every attack - but she too was blocking his attacks, for now, and sooner or later, the flechette that got him in the shoulder would take its toll, or so she could hope.
Laurel swung at his side, he blocked, and swung back, Laurel caught the blade on hers, and all the while, Oliver was attacking, but getting dodged or blocked just as much, Merlyn proving able to cover against them both.
Is he slowing? Laurel wondered, as he blocked her again, ducking under Oliver's attack. Laurel wasn't sure, but it almost seemed like he was, and yet, she wasn't sure.
"Ra's al Ghul already knows you've betrayed the code, Merlyn," Laurel shouted over the sound of their fighting. "Even if you kill us both, he'll find you, no matter where you try to escape to."
"If he knows, why hasn't he already tried to make a move?" Merlyn shot back, jumping away from then, all three of them stopping for a moment, to catch their breaths as they spoke. She watched Oliver ready another bow, and realized he wasn't pulling a normal arrow.
But he didn't point it at Merlyn, as Laurel answered Merlyn's question.
"Because I told him we'd handle it. Once you're dead, I'll be free of my oath of obedience - and unlike you, I'll never have a need to turn on the League's code." Laurel replied, coldly.
Merlyn laughed, "I never knew Ra's al Ghul to have a sense of humor. He's sent you both to your deaths, and I'll oblige him that."
"You're not leaving this rooftop alive," Oliver growled, lifting his bow and firing at Merlyn, head on. Merlyn caught the arrow by the shaft, an inch from his chest.
"Trying the same trick again? I would have thought you knew better than that."
"Not exactly," Oliver countered, and Laurel watched Merlyn's eyes look down at the beeping light on the arrow and it exploded, sending Merlyn flying backwards, into one of the surface exterior vent pipes, his sword falling out of his grasp.
Laurel moved on Merlyn - he was back on his feet before she could get to him, but he was weaponless, his sword out of immediate reach now that he was under attack. She slashed at him, and he sidestepped, but then she switched grips and came at him from the side, catching his arm and scraping along it for a moment. Merlyn pulled another knife and flung it at her, and it scraped along her thigh, drawing blood.
Laurel ignored the sudden stinging pain for the moment, and pressed on. She got another cut along Merlyn's arm, but no killing stroke, nothing that left him open to an attack. Merlyn kicked out, under her guard and got her just below the knee. Biting her lip bloody, Laurel staggered back and fell to her other knee for a moment. Merlyn took the opening to once more pull another knife as Laurel struggled to her feet. An arrow sailed past Merlyn and then Merlyn flung the knife - at Oliver. Laurel saw the weapon connect with Oliver's side, and he fell down to his knees.
"Oliver!" She nearly screamed, but she didn't make the mistake she had the last time she'd faced Merlyn. He's not dead, that didn't hit a vital area, and even if it did the best chance he has for survival is killing Merlyn and getting Oliver to medical care!
That thought raced through her head as she moved towards Merlyn again, but this time, he had his blade once more. He tried to go on the offensive, but his blood loss, greater than hers, seemed to finally be slowing him noticeably.
Metal clashed on metal, and Merlyn scored a cut on the back of her hand, shallow, even as she managed to get his leg, but still, they fought, and then -
Laurel wasn't even sure how it happened, the flow of fighting almost instinctive, her mind not even touching it it almost seemed like, but then her blade got past Merlyn's guard and connected with his swordhand, slicing along his fingers and making him drop his blade. Laurel moved, cutting at his other hand when he tried to block, and grabbing his throat, holding him back, his stomach exposed for the perfect kill -
Struggling, pleading, gasping for air
His arms, flailing uselessly against hers, desperation in his eyes,
The sword, gleaming in the starlight of the new moon, dead eyes behind the weapon as she drove it in, expecting, hoping, needing to feel nothing, and hot blood spilling around the hilt and her hand as she pushed it up towards his chest.
The blood felt like an inferno, or like acid, burning her, but still she didn't stop, couldn't stop, the League had ordered this man, some corrupt Indian politician taking bribes from sex traffickers and drug kingpins.
The look in his eyes, as life left him, locked on hers, the terror in them as his body went limp and collapsed against her-
The memory to her first kill with the League burned in her mind, and for a split second, she nearly froze, nearly found herself unable to kill, no matter the need,no matter the-
If I kill him, I'll be killing most of what's left of my soul. Laurel knew, had known, had known the whole time. But if she didn't know, he could escape, he could kill her, kill Oliver. Sara, her father, Thea, Mrs. Queen. And more. So many people had died at his hands, and more could before the day ended.
Laurel pulled her sword back for the killing blow as Merlyn tried to grab at her arm and pull it away, but he couldn't -
The blade was barely an inch from Merlyn, or so it seemed, when a thudding sound pulled Laurel into full awareness of her soundings, the thud almost meaty and squishy and then she saw the green fletched arrow in Merlyn's back, between his shoulder blades.
Oliver, standing once more, blood staining his uniform from the wound in his side. Their eyes met across the distance, and words seemed unnecessary.
Laurel had made a promise, to never kill again. She'd been prepared to break that promise, here, now, and Oliver had made sure she didn't have to.
She dropped the scimitar and Merlyn laughed, blood mixing with splittle as another arrow hit him in the back again.
Laurel let go of his neck and he dropped to his knees.
"So I guess this really is how it ends then," Merlyn laughed. "How does it feel, Oliver? I never asked - how does it feel to be a killer, just like your father?"
Laurel kicked Merlyn in the face, sending him sprawling back, the arrows breaking off, still buried in his back.
"Shut up," Laurel said, breathing heavily, as much from the effects of the flashback as from the exertion of the fight - or so it felt.
"My father was a better man than you could ever hope to be, Merlyn," Oliver said softly, as he approached the fallen man.
"Whatever you want to tell yourself to feel better, now that you've damned this city forever," Merlyn replied, blood still coming out of his mouth with coughs every other word.
"You're never going to understand," Oliver shook his head, and then fired once more, into Merlyn's chest, right for the heart, the arrow digging into the flesh... hopefully piercing his heart.
He was dead.
"Ollie..." Laurel murmured, turning to dropped his bow for a moment as well, and they embraced, holding each other as much to remind each other they were alive, as anything else, the battle over.
Laurel would be free from the League, and the man who had - and would have, if the other device couldn't be found in time - such a terrible effect on their city, and their lives, who had done terrible things in the pursuit of his mad vengeance, was dead. Justice, of a sort, finally done.
"It's over... for now, at least." Oliver murmured.
"For now, at least," Laurel agreed.
Merlyn Global Group, Starling City
April 14th, 2013
With Laurel's help, her arm hooked under his and holding him up a bit as he leaned on her, and she leaned on him just a bit in turn, they made their way back down the stairs, and into the office. Oliver pulled up his hood as they reached Merlyn's armory. But as they stepped into the office, they saw someone standing there, looking pale, horror on his face, disgust in his eyes.
Tommy.
But the disgust wasn't directed at them as he looked at them. And even though Oliver had his hood back on, and Laurel had her mask and wig on, he could tell from his expression that he knew.
He knew who they were.
"You know, when I saw your mom's press conference, I didn't want to believe it." Tommy said quietly. "I just... sat there. It didn't seem possible - cold bastard or not, my dad wasn't a killer. He wouldn't kill his best friend. Wouldn't try to destroy the Glades. I called Sara, expecting her to tell me the SCPD knew it was all fake. Or maybe I just wanted her to."
"But she didn't," Laurel replied, just as quietly.
"No." Tommy admitted. "Didn't tell me - I figured it out. Who else would she trust so utterly then you two? Her dad. Me. But neither of us could be the Black Canary, who gave her the information she believed, about my father...about... this." He gestured to the bodies.
"Is he dead?" Tommy asked, looking away from them.
"He is," Oliver admitted. "Tommy, I - I'm sorr-'' He wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for. Was he really apologizing that he'd killed Merlyn? Killed Tommy's father?
Tommy cut him off, shaking his head, "No, don't say it. You're not sorry you killed him. Why would you be, after everything he did?"
Oliver had to shake his head. "No... but I am sorry it had to happen. And... I'm sorry I never told you."
"Would you ever have?" Tommy asked, almost plaintively.
Oliver stared at Tommy, unable to come up with an answer. He looked to Laurel, and she looked back at him, as helpless as he was. I couldn't have. It wouldn't have been safe... and I - I didn't want to see one of my best friends looking at me like he is now.
"I guess that's my answer," Tommy concluded. Oliver started to say something, anything, but even as he opened his mouth, took a breath, he couldn't find the words.
"Don't," Tommy said again. "Either of you," he looked to Laurel. "I thought... I thought when you two came back, I had two of my best friends back. But I guess... I guess the people I knew died, when my dad sank that yacht." Tommy turned away from them. "I won't - I won't turn you in. But... I need you to leave. And..." he paused a moment, and then his posture relaxed,he slouched a little, defeated. "I don't want to see or hear from you. Not now. Maybe never."
Tommy laughed humorlessly, "You probably did the right thing... here, at least. But-" he cut himself off, as if unable to find the words.
"I understand." Laurel nodded, even if he couldn't see it.
"You know how to find us, if... if you're ever ready." Oliver replied, the words almost catching in his throat.
He might very well have lost Tommy forever.
Together with Laurel, that reality settled in on him as they moved to the elevator.
Queen Mansion, Starling City
April 16th, 2013
The Glades were not leveled.
At least 271 people were dead, and possibly more - between people missing, some people trapped, potentially still alive, and bodies not found, the death toll could rise.
Half the Glades was ruined - not rubble, like Merlyn might have hoped, but roofs caved in, walls broken, collapsed, upper levels of some structures fallen inwards or off the side entirely.
Thousands were homeless or jobless. The city's homeless shelters were stretched to the breaking point. The Red Cross and the National Guard had descended on the city, right alongside FEMA, trying to cope with the damage, but it was the early days yet.
Laurel looked out at the setting sun, about to turn around and go back inside.
She wouldn't be staying for long. Neither would Oliver.
Thea refused to come home - she was staying with Roy, it seemed. Oliver had tried to talk to her, but she'd remained as stubborn as he could be at his worst. Thea had refused to see her mother - Oliver had gone this morning, once he was allowed to, but not with his sister.
He'd had to pretend he only knew what was on the news now, what he'd overheard. Moira could only fill him in so much, in the short visit he was allowed, but it gave her a chance to apologize to her son, for what she'd nearly let pass, uncommented.
But with Thea gone, and in prison, there was nothing keeping them living here, right now. And frankly... neither of them wanted to stay here, detached from Starling City like this.
Tommy had been taken into protective custody by the FBI, apparently, according to Sara. Federal Agencies of all sorts were involved in trying to pick through the aftermath of this. Other members of Tempest had been arrested - though Dr. Markov and his team at Unidac were apparently all dead.
The city had come together, for the moment, people trying to help one another, help the dislocated, the refugees, the injured...
Laurel could only hope it lasted.
"It is done then," Laurel heard Nyssa's voice behind her, and she turned, facing her friend. Nyssa was wearing her League garb, but at least now, her expression was a smile - something she only rarely ever did. Rarely had cause to, rarely was allowed to feel happiness, thanks to Ra's' stellar parenting.
"It is. I'm sure you've seen the pictures that got leaked." The police had found Merlyn's body, and someone had leaked pictures of it, three arrows in it, to the media. The whole city knew the Hood had killed Merlyn.
"I saw his body in your city's morgue," Nyssa countered. "Your beloved, bound to you by ties far stronger than anything else, fulfilled your charge, as is allowed under the laws of the League." She approached Laurel, her expression grave. "My order of my father, Ra's al Ghul, the Demon's Head, I, Nyssa, Heir to the Demon, release you from your oaths of service and obedience, Tayir 'Aswad. In the eyes of the League, you are, now and forever, Dinah Laurel Lance."
Laurel couldn't help but smile a little at that, a few tears in her eyes, relief flooding through her that now, finally, she really was free of the League.
She hadn't even realized how much she needed to hear it, until she had, but the loss of the weight made her feel like she was eight feet tall, standing up straight for the first time.
"Do you swear to continue to abide by the code of the League of Assassins? To protect the innocent, and fight those who bring harm to then? To use the skills the League gave you in pursuit of justice, and only justice." Nyssa asked, the formality clear in her words, but the slight smile still on her face made it clear she knew she didn't need to ask.
"Gladly, and easily, I swear." Laurel confirmed. She pulled Nyssa in for a hug, the other woman awkwardly and badly returning it, but trying to, and then Laurel pulled back. "Will I ever see you again?"
Nyssa looked down, "I cannot say for sure," she admitted. Then she looked up and met Laurel's eyes. "But I hope I will be able to see you again, Laurel. My affection and fondness for you does not end, now that you are released."
"Nor have mine," Laurel confirmed. Laurel looked back at the sun dipping finally below the horizon.
"What will you and your beloved do now, with Al-Saher dead, and his plot complete?"
"Complete... not exactly. He didn't accomplish what he set out to do," Laurel murmured. "But he certainly tried. He may be dead, but the work, the cause... it never ends. The people of this still need help, still need inspiration." She shook her head.
"We might have paused, for a moment, Oliver and me. But... the work never stops. Starling City and its people, especially the least among them, still need someone to stand up for them."
Laurel laughed a little. "Once or twice, Oliver imagined that when he was done with the List, the work might be done, but only then. He knows better. I know better. This... this is only the beginning, I guess."
"I suspect it will be the beginning of much more than it seems," Nyssa said quietly. Laurel looked at her, eyebrow raised.
"An intuition, nothing more," Nyssa assured her.
"Well... I suppose we'll find out." Laurel admitted, softly. "Thank you, Nyssa. For helping me, even when you were disobeying your father to tell us who Al-Saher was."
"I could do nothing less." Nyssa assured her. "Goodbye, Laurel. May I see you again, in days to come soon." She turned away, stepping into the shadows cast by the porch and seemed to vanish.
Sometimes I think she does that just to be dramatic and mysterious. Laurel went back inside, and found Oliver in their bedroom, packing up more of their things. Even what didn't come with them at first, would be packed up here, for now.
"Nyssa was just here," Laurel told him. Oliver looked up, and Laurel nodded, smiling, her body sagging with relief even as she said it. "She released me. I'm free." Oliver smiled and he embraced her, holding her close as they shared a brief, intimate kiss, and Laurel put a hand on his chest lightly.
"Good." Oliver whispered. "I know... I know how much you needed it. How much that weighed on you. I'm glad it's done."
"My oath to the League is done, but the work doesn't end. Starling City isn't saved from everything. And then there's your mother's trial and god knows what's going to happen with your sister, and there's Tommy and -" Laurel pointed out, but Oliver smiled and kissed her forehead.
"You're right. You were always right - finishing the List doesn't end the mission. But... something is done. And whatever else comes, we'll face it like we faced everything this year. Together, side by side."
Oliver kissed her again, and the world fell away as she returned the kiss, passion and love in equal measure. She pushed him back, towards the bed, and as they fell into it, still embraced, lips still locked, everything else left their minds but each other. Nothing else mattered for the rest of the night, save for two souls, come together to burn even brighter together.
For that night, in each other's arms, all was right with the world.
Author's Note: So... here it is. The end of Vigilantes' Dawn.
It has been quite an experience, writing this. Education, sobering, interesting. Exciting. I love writing, and I love sharing my writing with others. And though Vigilantes' Dawn is done, the story of these two characters, of Detective Sara Lance, and of the alternate universe created by Oliver's different choice before the Queen's Gambit sank, is not.
There will be a sequel. Several sequels, actually, given time. A new fic, covering the events of an alternate Season 2 in this continuity, will be released. The title will be The Siege of Starling City. As events in Season 1 have been different, the events of Season 2 will be diverged, and continue to diverge, as things go further and further away from canon.
Following The Siege of Starling City, there will indeed be a sequel to that, staying in Starling City, title still to be settled - let's call it Jade Orphan for reasons that probably won't make sense to you right now, or possibly ever. There will also, however, be a sequel covering the events in a very different city.
Oliver's actions have a butterfly effect far more than anyone could expect, things rippling to Central City - and the Flash will find, in Frostbite, that while he might celebrate his new powers, Dr. Caitlin Snow finds hers to be a very different experience.
Now, all this said, don't look for Siege in the immediate future. I need a break from the Arrowverse for a few months, and time to work on all the details anyway. I don't have an exact ETA, but it will be somewhere in the 4-6 months range from now.
You can just keep your eyes open for it and read it when it shows up here that way or you can follow me here me as an author, and you will get the alert when it comes.
Either way, I'll see you then, and until then... thank you.
Thank you so much for reading, commenting, reviewing, kudosing, bookmarking, subscribing, favoriting and following this fic. Thank you, and...
Thank god 2020 is almost over, am I right?
