Chapter 140: Sara

"What a day…" Laurel sighed as she locked her office at CNRI behind her. She still felt a little sore from her unexpected midday jaunt as Black Canary, and having to sit in that office chair, looking over so many documents that her head was starting to blur, didn't help.

She still couldn't believe she was already the director of her own law firm, only five years out of law school. It felt unreal at times, how much things had changed these past couple of years. Laurel just knew if her younger self saw her now, she'd freak, in more ways than one. That girl — she'd probably thought Laurel would be a member of the DA's office right now, working towards one day becoming DA herself. Not the director of CNRI, or a metahuman vigilante, or dating Ollie.

Ollie. Just the thought of him made her smile. The day he had been revealed to be alive again, had come back home, was still one of the happiest days of her life. Everything since then had only reaffirmed that belief. Ollie had changed everything in her life, both as himself and as Green Arrow. He had been the one that had inspired her to do more, to be more, and had brought others to help her become that person — the most important, of course, being Nyssa.

Just the thought of Nyssa brought out a feeling of deep love and longing. Ollie and her were happy in their new penthouse apartment, certainly, but they both knew that something — or, more specifically, someone — was missing. The extra-sized bed they had specially ordered was proof enough of that, considering that it was large enough for three people. Not to mention that third section of the closet, empty and distinctly lacking both their things, because it was specifically reserved for someone else. They both knew that Nyssa couldn't always be here with them, that she believed with all her heart that she belonged with the League, but…

Well, Laurel was in love. And so was Ollie. So it didn't make it hurt any less.

Ping!

Laurel glanced down at her phone. A text.

She read it, and then rushed over to her car.

Laurel didn't quite run to the front of her childhood home, but she did walk with a purpose. She already had her keys out in hand, set specifically on the copy of the key her parents had given her when she was sixteen years old and finally able to drive. She had kept it with her, through the rest of high school and college and even as she moved into her own apartment. A symbol that no matter what happened, no matter where she went, she always had a place to go to.

She opened the door and — there she was.

"Hey!" Sara practically sang, getting up from the couch where she was talking with their parents and throwing her arms open for a hug.

Her big sister practically squealed, throwing herself at Sara with all the enthusiasm of a hyperactive chihuahua. Sure, she had kept constant contact with Sara since her last in-person visit, but emails, text messages and phone calls could never, ever replace the real deal. "Sar-Bear!"

"Hey, Laurel," Sara greeted her sister, "How've you been?"

Laurel gave her a squeeze. "Good, good, especially now that you're here." She let go of the embrace for her a moment, let herself take in her sister's appearance. Her hair was as long as ever, and her skin was tanned a bit from all her time in Africa, but she was fit, healthy, with that happy, cheerful glow of hers. Just what Laurel wanted to see.

"How have you been? I thought you weren't visiting again until this year's Thanksgiving and Christmas?" Sara had been unable to come to last year's due to some kind of emergency at the humanitarian site she was working at. Nothing serious, but enough to ground her and miss the festivities. The family had been saddened, but nonetheless made sure to store her presents for her next visit and send her lots of pictures and videos so she wouldn't feel too left out.

Sara rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "I've been good, actually. But my agency feels I've been working a bit too hard lately, and the fact that I missed last year's holidays didn't help. So they're benching me for the time being."

The other woman blinked. "Really? How long are you staying, then?"

"At least for three months. Maybe longer."

That only made Laurel squeal louder.

"Oliver and Tommy are gonna be so happy that you're back," Laurel told her sister as their father started setting down food around the family table. She had already called Oliver earlier to inform her that she'd be having dinner with her parents tonight, and that she'd explain why later. "We can do brunch on Sunday, just the four of us."

"And I can see whether or not Tommy really has gotten his head out of his ass," Sara mused.

"Sara!" Dinah gasped, scandalized.

"Sorry, Mom. But we all know it's true."

Quentin let out a grunt of agreement as he sat himself down on his own seat, at the head of the table. "She's got a point, Dinah. I love that kid, but it was hard to remember that for the last couple of years. Not that he didn't have a reason to be like he was, but…" He shrugged.

Laurel sighed. "Yeah. It sucked, I'm not gonna lie. But it really does feel like we're all on the same page again. Especially now that the stuff about Malcolm has died down with the man's death. He's been getting a lot less crap thrown his way." Everyone ignored the disdainful sniff Dinah gave. She was a wonderful mother, but working as a college professor at a prestigious institution like Balliol had given her a certain level of propriety that the rest of her family lacked.

"Speaking of that, has anyone been giving you shit about the Black Siren thing?" Sara asked, deadly serious. "Because if they have, just tell me. I'll take care of it."

"Oh no," her big sister immediately denied, internally grimacing at the mention of her evil doppelgänger and arch-enemy. "People had a hard time reconciling the differences between her and I at first, but they got over it soon enough. And it's been close to a year since the Battle of Earth-1, so the backlash over the news has died down. Honestly, I doubt anyone really remembers I'm her counterpart."

Sara eyed her for a moment before smiling. "Good."

Laurel let out a breath of relief at that, before heading directly for the mashed potatoes. Comfort food sounded really good right now.

"Afternoon, Doctor Shelby," Eddie said as he greeted his therapist, sitting down in the usual chair.

"Afternoon, Eddie," Aryton Shelby greeted his patient back. "But what did I tell you? Call me Aryton while we're in a session."

"Right."

After Eddie settled in, they went through their customary questions, asking Eddie about his day, if anything stood out, if anything was bothering him, etc. It was standard procedure for all their sessions, allowing Eddie to relax and get more comfortable speaking with his therapist. That way, whenever it was time to work on something that the good doctor noted about Eddie, his patient would be more willing to open up about it.

"Now, Eddie," Shelby started once all the starting questions were out of the way. "It's been over a month since your parents died. How are you feeling about that?"

Eddie blinked, swallowing. "My… parents?" He looked pale.

Shelby nodded patiently. "Yes, Eddie, your parents. I understand if the feeling is still raw and you don't want to talk about it now, but we do need to talk about it eventually. Whatever feelings you have about them and their deaths, you can't bottle them up."

The younger man still looked reluctant. "I know," he said, very slowly, "but…"

"But?"

"I feel guilty," Eddie blurted out, and tried not to wince. That was a bit too close a statement to the truth. "About… about how I feel about them."

"And why is that?" Shelby prompted.

Eddie grimaced, before inhaling deeply. He began to speak. "I hate them," he admitted, and it wasn't lost on either of them at how he was speaking in present tense. "I really hate them. They… they were terrible parents to me. They were never there for me. They never cared for me. They only ever used me for their agenda. I never felt like their son, just their prop or their employee. Honestly, I can barely remember a time I spent with them where I was genuinely happy."

"And yet, they're dead, and I guess I'm supposed to feel sad, and I do. Because despite all that, some part of me still wanted their approval. That they would just accept me as I am. But… but at the same time, I'm also relieved, because I don't have to live by their expectations anymore. I'm finally free of them, and that — that just makes me so happy at times that I nearly suffocate from it."

He met his therapist's gaze. "Is it wrong of me, to be so happy in the wake of my parents' deaths?"

Shelby peered at him thoughtfully for but a moment, before smiling comfortingly. "No, Eddie. That's not wrong of you. You're only human, after all."

Despite the atmosphere, Eddie perked up at those words.

If his therapist said it was okay, then it must be okay.

You're normal. You're normal. Just remember that you're normal.

Sam chanted those words in her head again and again. Maybe if she said it enough times, it would become true. She would be normal. No, she is normal.

After all, she's just a normal mom making some normal pasta in her normal home while waiting for her normal best friend to return with her normal daughter. Normal. Totally normal. Not strange at all.

Just cook the pasta, Sam, Sam reminded herself. Just cook the pasta. Don't think about the bullet. Don't think about the spaceship. Don't think about that stupid blinking crystal in your safe that you've taken out like fifty times in the past two days. Just cook the damn pasta.

It was just pasta, after all. Anyone could make pasta. Just heat the pot of water to a boiling temperature, then throw the pasta in. Let it soften the pasta up until it was eatable, then drain out the water over the sink. Put the pasta on the plate. Then put the sauce you were making—

"Shit!" Sam swore. "The sauce!"

She set the bowl of uncooked pasta down and rushed to her fridge, taking out the ingredients she needed for the sauce, such as tomatoes and onions. After setting them down on the cutting board, she rushed over to her spice cabinet and picked out the spices that would be needed. Oregano, maybe some paprika…

"Come on," she muttered, irritated, "where's the damn pepper?"

Sam slammed her fist onto the marble countertop in frustration, accidentally knocking over the pasta. She blinked when she saw what she did, before groaning in exasperation. It really wasn't her night tonight, was it?

With a sigh, Sam closed the spice cabinet and began cleaning up her newest mess. She frowned when she saw some of the pasta had landed on the farthest reaches of the stove, and unconsciously reached out to grab them. Even with her long arms and tall height, she was unable to reach them without standing a bit on the tip of her toes, and had to anchor herself with other hand as she grabbed them.

And that's when she felt it. The water.

She quickly tore her hand out of the boiling pot of water, dropping those few pieces of pasta on the ground. Not that Sam cared anymore. Instead, she cradled that wet hand, noting the way it lacked blisters or any sort of injury, how it didn't feel hot at all. She then glanced at the pot of water where the hand it been, how it bubbled and steamed, clearly at boiling temperature.

Sam wanted to cry. She almost did.

But the sound of her front door opening stopped her. Sam quickly rushed to the towel that hung on the handle of the hoven, wiping it dry with due haste. By the time Kara, Ruby, and Kal all appeared to say hello, there was no evidence of what just happened to her. Well, besides the mess of pasta still on the counter and floor.

"Sam, we're—What the hel-ck?"

Sam smiled shakily at the group. "Yeah," she tried to speak flippantly. "Just some kitchen mishaps. Guess I haven't really recovered from yesterday."

All three of the arrivals looked at her, deeply concerned. "Are you sure you want to be cooking then, Mom?" Ruby asked, frowning. "We can just order a pizza or something."

Her mother glanced at the mess the kitchen was. "That sounds a great idea, sweetie. If that's okay with you, Kara, Kal."

Kal shrugged. "I've got no problems with it."

"Same with me," Kara concurred. She plastered on a smile. "How does veggie sound with everyone?"

The teenagers exchanged looks. "It has mushrooms," Kal pointed out.

"Mushrooms are good," Ruby agreed.

"That's great you two. Here," Kara took her phone out of her purse and handed it to Kal. "Why don't you two go upstairs and order it for us, then work on your homework together? I'll help Sam clean up the kitchen."

Ruby and Kal exchanged another look before nodding in unison. The two of them trudged up the stairs, Kal glancing down at the phone so he could put in the number of their usual pizza place. Kara watched them for a moment with a smile, before allowing it to fade. She glanced at Sam, who was already beginning to clean up.

Sighing, Kara set her bag down on the nearest chair before heading over to help Sam. She didn't say anything at first, just allowing comfortable silence to settle between them as they just gathered things together and returned them to their proper places (or to the trash).

After turning off the stoff and draining the water into the sink, Sam allowed the pot that would've contained the pasta sit there to be cleaned and dried later. As she went over to dry her hands, she found Kara leaning against the counter, one hand against the marble as she looked at her best friend expectantly. Sam tried her best to avoid the other woman's gaze, not wanting to betray anything.

"What's wrong?" Kara gently probed after Sam finally finished drying her hands.

Sam glanced at her, trying to keep her expression as untroubled as possible. "Nothing's wrong," she insisted. "It's just the stuff about yesterday, it finally hit me now."

Kara did not look convinced. "Sam."

Of course. Kara was her best friend. Nobody in the world knew Sam better than her. But still. "Like I said, Kara, nothing's wrong."

This time, Kara didn't say anything. She just had that look on her face, that stubborn expression that said she wasn't going to stand for Sam shutting her out like that. Sam had always been weak to that look, and they both knew it.

Sam tried her best. She really did. But in the end, she did what she always did when faced with that look. She broke.

"There was something that happened at Patricia's will reading," she started carefully. While she was willing to speak to Kara about this, she wasn't ready to share the full truth. Sam wasn't sure Kara would believe her, and even if she did — well, what if it was dangerous? She didn't want Kara to get hurt. "It turns out… well, it turns out she lied about my biological parents. They weren't what I thought they were, and there might be some inheritance involved. It's been driving me mad for the last couple of weeks, because I'm still debating what to do about it. I mean — it means I'm not who I thought I was, you know?"

Kara pursed her lips. "Sam," she said, reaching over and grabbing Sam by the shoulders as gently as she could. "It doesn't matter where you came from. That doesn't change any of the choices you made, the path you took in life. In the end, you're still you: the rising CEO of A-Corps, the super mom who raised Ruby, and above all else, my best friend. And nothing is ever going to change that."

Sam flushed at those words, and smiled. This time, she was the one to reach over and hug Kara, trying to convey all the gratitude and relief she felt. "Dammit, Kara. How is it that you always know what to say?"

She felt a soft pat on the back. "That's simple," Kara said, and Sam could hear the smile in her voice. "I just say the truth."

The older woman laughed, let go of the embrace. "Come on," Sam said, finally feeling her worries flee her mind, if only temporarily. "I've got like twenty hours of Gossip Girl loaded up on my DVR. Let's go watch them."

"Sounds good to me." With Kara, took her hand and tugged her towards the living room. Sam couldn't help but follow, still smiling.

She's right. It doesn't matter where I came from. I'm still me.

Yeah, there's a lot going on in this chapter. Sara's here, and she's staying for a while. I'm kind of happy — I always love writing Sara. Yeah, she has a lot of her own faults in canon, but she's always such a fun character to write.

And Eddie… oh, Eddie. His path of self-destruction continues, not that he realizes it.

Same with Sam. The irony in her scene just hurts to read, especially her decision to keep Kara out of it. I don't think I'm the only one who sees the parallels between her decision and the Queens' regarding the Malcolm situation. Like I said, all the secret-keeping is beginning to backfire!

Well, next chapter we get more Sara and then a look at Barry. We're winding up to the next big action piece, though I'll keep mum on that for now.

As always, feel free to make comments, flames will be ignored and deleted, and don't forget to update the TV Tropes page!