Author's Note: Hi, guys! I know today was supposed to be a Black Canary Rises post day, but I thought I'd spice things up a little. I've been wanting to incorporate an OC of my choosing into the Arrow story, for awhile now. So, here I give you, A Hero is Born. Just a few side notes before you read; this starts off about a month before Oliver comes back from the island in S1. I did this just to make to storyline flow better, so that Rosalie's introduction and Oliver's return wouldn't clash with one another. It also, obviously, takes place in Starling City. All the characters are the same as they were in the show, except for Laurel's mom, which you will find out about. Also, the only thing that I own in this is Rosalie Mayberry (my OC). If you have any questions or suggestions, just leave a review ?. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy Chapter 1! And yes, it is a pretty long chapter, I just felt that in order for it to be a good first chapter, it needed all of the info.
A Hero Is Born
"SCPD! Drop your weapons and place your hands behind your head!" Detective Quentin Lance shouted.
There were several men, dressed in all black leather, standing almost protectively over a group of women.
Only, these weren't just any women. They were kidnapped, beaten, raped women. They had been through hell.
They looked at Quentin and the other officers feebly, pleading showing in their eyes.
The men took one look at the officers, then at each other, before opening fire.
Quentin immediately took cover behind one of the police cruisers, as bullets rained down.
Carefully, he aimed his handgun at the leader and took a shot. The bullet tagged the guy, as he fell to the ground with a thud.
The other thugs noticed, as they quickly readjusted their aim, so that it was for specific officers.
The officers took notice of this, as they quickly and efficiently took down all four of the remaining thugs, before they could do any more damage.
As the officers walked out from behind the cars, they each set their sights on one of the women.
Quentin engaged himself on one of the more determined looking ones.
She kind of reminds me of Laurel, in a way, Quentin thought, looking forward to tonight, as it was family dinner. Even if it was just the two of them, it was still family, no matter how much they missed Sara and Dinah.
As he started walking over, though, she panicked and fled the scene, stumbling over broken cement.
"Wait! It's okay. I'm one of the good ones," Quentin said, as the girl, who looked to be no more than 15, turned around.
She looked at him, intensely, with her bright green eyes, which again reminded him so much of Laurel, hope dazzling her gaze.
But it was quickly extinguished by terror, as she disappeared behind the brick wall.
That girl must've gone through some pretty tough stuff, to react like that, Quentin thought, as he dashed over to the wall.
He squinted down the alley but sadly, he couldn't see anyone.
Quentin sighed, knowing that it would be pointless to go after her; she clearly didn't want to be found.
He turned, walking back to his fellow officers and helped the remaining three girls into the back of one of the police cruisers.
He then exchanged a few words with his buddies, which ended in them dispersing; with one of them calling the precinct, to get a CSI team to the crime scene because there were dropped bodies.
Before Quentin got back into his cruiser though, he made a quick call.
The phone only rang for a couple of seconds, before his baby girl picked up the phone.
"Hey, baby."
"Hey, Daddy. If you're calling me to cancel our plans for tonight, don't even think about it. I already got your favourite pizza, which I am not too fond of," Laurel said, jokingly.
"No, no, it's nothing like that. I just wanted to hear your voice," Quentin replied lovingly.
"Why, did something happen? Are you ok?" Laurel replied, concern showing in her voice. She had already lost a sister and a mom; she didn't want to lose her dad as well. They were each others' rocks.
"No. Well, kind of. I don't know. I'll tell you at dinner," Quentin said, his mind yet again drifting off to that girl.
"Ok, bye Daddy," Laurel replied, intrigued to find out whatever her dad had to say.
"Bye, baby," Quentin said, as he hung up the phone and slid it back into his pocket.
He sat down in his cruiser, shutting the door.
He went to put his keys in the ignition, still thinking about that girl and the long scar that almost split her beautiful face in two.
It's terrible that something like that could ever happen, Quentin thought; it was a sad reality to face.
He hoped that someone would come looking for her, a family member or friend.
He also made a mental note to visit a sketch artist, to try to put an identity to that face.
He stashed the girl back in his mind, as he started driving to Laurel's apartment.
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[
Rosalie raced around the corner, mustering up all of the strength she had and sprinted down the alley.
I can't trust anyone anymore, not even the police, Rosalie thought, hopeless.
After all, dirty cops were the whole reason that she was kidnapped in the first place.
Four years ago, she was just a regular kid.
Apart from the fact that she was abused daily by her conservative parents.
Emotionally, physically, mentally, everything.
She did her best to hide the scars and bruises that came from it, genuinely thinking that this was regular behaviour from parents.
That was, until she met Summer.
Summer was a gorgeous, beautiful, intelligent girl in Rosalies class.
Rosalie had had her eye on Summer for awhile, knowing that the attraction that she had wasn't just as a friend; it was a crush.
She mooned over Summer for years, until she finally got the courage to go up to her and make friends.
Lucky for Rosalie, it worked.
It was almost effortless, how they just bonded so quickly.
After a couple of weeks, they were basically best friends.
They talked about everything; home life, school life, social life.
Of course, Rosalie had to skirt around the fact that her parents beat her; she didn't want to seem weak. Because, after talking to Summer, Rosalie found out that abuse wasn't regular.
However, she did confess that she was lesbian. When she did, Summer didn't seem surprised, in fact, she seemed kind of relived for it.
After a couple more months of friendship, Jasmine decided to tell Summer about her crush.
She didn't want to, because she knew that Summer would probably be grossed out and not want to be friends anymore.
But the exact opposite happened.
Summer confessed her love back. She said how much she had wanted to tell Rosalie, but was afraid that it would ruin their relationship.
They talked about it, then decided to start dating. Since they'd already been friends for a couple months, it was kind of the same thing, except with more physical touching.
After about a week of officially dating, Rosalie told Summer about the abuse.
Summer was horrified that anyone, let alone Rosalie's own parents would be treating her like that.
They discussed it and said that they would keep it between the two of them, but also try to find a solution.
They also made a pact, to never tell anyone that they were dating, as both of their families didn't support it.
They continued dating, only growing closer as the months passed by.
One night, as Rosalie was nursing the latest bruise that her dad had given her, she heard a quiet knock on her window.
Not just any knock, either.
It was a special knock that only Rosalie and Summer knew about.
Rosalie quickly got up and quietly opened her window, only to reveal her love.
"Summer, what are you doing here?" Rosalie asked, looking in concern at Summer's face, which was swollen and bleeding.
"My parents," Summer said, through tears," They found out somehow. They kicked me out," She cried, collapsing into Rosalie's arms.
Rosalie, slightly trembling with anger that someone would do this to her love said," It's okay, Summer. We can run away together. I'm just so tired of the abuse," Rosalie admitted.
As Rosalie was leading Summer over to the bed, Summer said," Really? You'd do that for me? Leave everything you've ever known and loved?"
"Well, I think we both know that it was going to happen at some point. All it took was a night like this one," Rosalie said, looking affectionately at Summer.
"And, for the record, the only thing in this world that I love right now is you, Summer Hawke," Rosalie smiled.
Summer smiled back and they kissed.
It was the most passionate kiss that they had shared so far, blowing both of their twelve-year-old minds.
It was about to escalate, as Rosalie's bedroom door suddenly slammed open.
They pulled apart a second too late but, it would've been no use if they had done it in time.
They both started in horror at Rosalie's dad, as he had a look of white-hot outrage on his face.
He looked from Rosalie, to Summer, immediately knowing what was going on.
So, he ran over to them, slapping Rosalie so hard that she fell over off the bed, and grabbed Summer by the hair.
Rosalie quickly jumped up and pleaded," Please! Please, hurt me, kill me! Just don't hurt Summer," Rosalie cried, falling to her knees as she started to sob.
Rosalie's dad took one look at her and knew that this was the right thing to do. To punish his so-called daughter in the worst way.
He dragged Summer over to the door, hoisting her high up in the air.
"No! You are a sin! Your very existence goes against god's wishes," he yelled, pulling his handgun out of it's holster.
Rosalie took one look at the gun and lunged toward her father.
Sadly, she was too slow, as her dad quickly shot a bullet into her shoulder, causing her to scream and fall back.
The pain was unbearable. It was like someone was ripping her shoulder in two, with their bare hands.
"No! You have done a terrible mark against our family! Now, you will pay," he yelled, waving the gun in front of Summer's head.
"No," Rosalie whispered, gazing intensely into Summer's eyes.
Summer gazed back and it was almost like they were telling each other that no matter what, they loved each other, always and forever.
"You will never sin again!" Her dad yelled, as he shot Summer in the head.
"No!" Rosalie screeched, keeping her eyes locked with the now dull, lifeless ones of Summer.
Rosalie's dad dropped Summer's limp body onto the floor, as he proceeded to pull out his phone and call someone.
Rosalie didn't care. She just crawled over to Summer, with one hand pressing against her bloody shoulder, crying.
"No, no, no," she whimpered, cradling Summer's head in her lap, Rosalie's tears falling onto Summer's beautiful face.
Rosalie didn't know what just happened.
She couldn't comprehend why it did.
Why did she have such crummy luck?
She was in such a dark place before Summer came along.
She was cutting, wishing death upon herself.
But Summer somehow managed to pull her out of all of that.
To get her to see the beauty in the world, instead of all the hate.
Now that she was gone, Rosalie didn't see a reason to keep going.
It was just going to get worse. Her dad would probably abuse her and torture her even more now that he found out about her sexuality.
Rosalie just bowed her head over Summer's, as a last thanks.
Come to think of it, Rosalie didn't think that she ever actually told Summer how grateful she was.
Just another thing to add to her plate of guilt.
She collapsed onto the floor, closing her eyes, as her mind got hazier from blood loss. She just wanted to die.
But of course, her dad wouldn't, couldn't let that happen.
He put his phone away, satisfied with the call that he had just made.
He looked over at the girl who he had once called his daughter, disgusted, as he gruffly picked her up and dragged her down the stairs.
Rosalie, being dragged, said her last goodbye to her love, as she was brought around a corner and out of Summer's view.
The rest was a bit hazy but, Rosalie remembered the key parts.
She was dragged down the stairs and out the front door. Her dad dropped her on the driveway, spitting on her as he walked back into the house, slamming the door.
The pain in her shoulder was blinding, but she managed to stay half-awake, at least for a little while.
Then, about five minutes later, two police cruisers rolled into the driveway. Rosalie could tell because of the sirens.
Two police officers stepped out of one of them, as the other car just idled. They exchanged a few muffled words, as they each took one of her arms and lead her to one of cruisers.
Rosalie, thinking that she was being rescued, said," Please, my girlfriend. My dad just shot her, and me. Please. He's ruthless, you've got to help me."
The officers smirked at each other and snapped," Shut up, bitch. You're not getting any help. You're going where no one will see you ever again."
At first, Rosalie thought that they meant prison. But she didn't know how.
She'd done nothing wrong, if anything, she'd been the victim of a wronging.
She was then thrown into the back of a cruiser, landing uncomfortably on the seats.
It was pitch-black in there, so she didn't know where she was going.
She closed her eyes, her hand still pressing fiercely against her bullet wound.
After a long ride (she couldn't keep track of time), the car stopped and the dirty cops pulled her from the back seat.
They picked her up by her hair and dragged her over the rough pavement and into an abandoned building.
They handed her off to another man, as the man gave the beat cops a wad of cash in return.
The man then threw Rosalie into what looked like a makeshift cell, and locked the door.
She ended up passing out, but she could only assume that someone had come into her cell, as when she woke up, her shoulder was stitched up and there was an extremely thin blanket aside her.
She draped the blanket over her, as she stared into the darkness, her head woozy from blood loss.
She doubted that sleep would take her anytime soon; there were too many nightmares that she could come upon.
So, for the next three years, Rosalie was tortured, beaten, raped and whipped nearly everyday.
And each and every day she wished for death to take her, but no such luck.
So, when the police had come, Rosalie used it as an escape from torture.
So, there she stood, leaning against the wall, threatening to pass out, trying to plan what she would do next.
For now, she just found a nearby box and crawled in it, trying to conceal herself inside it.
She stared at the sky; the stars blurry because of the fog.
She found herself unconsciously rubbing her right wrist, because of the scar, or brand.
When the fake officers had first come, she had made the mistake of telling them that her girlfriend was shot. They had remembered and put her through more hell because of it.
The human trafficking group that she had been taken to, was very religious, not unlike her father. They also believed in ancient rituals and marks. One of them, being the triangle mark.
Rosalie didn't know what it stood for but, she assumed it had something to do with sinning.
They had first just carved it into her wrist lightly with a knife, every day, until the scar was very noticeable.
Then, Rosalie didn't know how, they had put some sort of dark magic into it, so that it glowed whenever magic was near.
But it also hurt like hell, every day.
Rosalie was ashamed of the scar. She didn't know how she was supposed to hide it when she finally got to go out in public.
Honestly, she just wanted to be normal. She had wished to be ever since that dreadful night of Summers' death. Now, it wasn't possible.
Rosalie didn't know how her life was going to go, she only knew that she wanted to do good with it; by helping people, and honouring Summer.
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Knock, knock.
Quentin's hand rapped on Laurel's apartment door.
He didn't have to wait long, as she came to the door with open arms.
"Dad!" Laurel said, as she wrapped him into an almost suffocating hug.
Quentin couldn't help but laugh; why was she being so clingy?
"Yes, and I'm the same one that you saw yesterday," he said, sarcastic, as Laurel pulled away, slightly embarrassed.
She smiled, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink.
"Oh, it's just, you sounded kind of worried on the phone, so I just wanted to see you, you know? To make sure that everything's okay," she confessed, leading him into her living room, which already had a pizza box and two sodas set out.
"Yeah, it's just a case that I was working. You know the one, the human trafficking group?" Quentin asked, eager to get that girl off of his mind.
"Mmhmm," Laurel agreed, opening the pizza box and handing her dad a slice, while taking one for herself.
"Well, we finally found their location. That's where I just came from," Quentin said, opening his soda.
"That's great, Dad. So, why the somber mood? When you catch thugs, you're supposed to be happy," Laurel asked, confused.
"Well, when we got there, there were some girls there, you know, the victims," Quentin paused, biting into his pizza.
"We took the guys out no problem, but it's the girls who were the real issue. They were deathly thin, Laurel. I just- I can't help but think of what I would do if something like that happened to you," Quentin said, snatching a loving glace at Laurel.
She returned the glance, a flash of fear going through it.
"What, did one of them remind you of me?" Laurel asked, getting curiouser and curiouser.
"See, that's just the thing. Me and the other officers on patrol, we all kind of picked one of the girls to look after, and get to safety. I guess, my eyes just skimmed the group, trying to pick one of them. Immediately, though, one of them caught my eye. Well, not her, as much as her face.
"She had a long scar going across her face, almost dividing it, you know? But- but the thing that really caught my attention were her eyes. They looked identical to yours, Laurel. Bright, vibrant green emeralds." Quentin said, once again remembering her beautiful face, so full of unnecessary fear.
But then, Quentin thought, I don't know what she's been through. She probably had a bad experience with some dirty cops.
"But you got her, right?" Laurel queried, grabbing another slice.
"Well, no. When I started walking in her direction, she got spooked. She ran around a corner, and when I called for her, saying that I was on her team, that's when I really saw her face. She looked as if she wanted to believe me, to go with me to safety, but she physically couldn't. Like her body, or soul or something wouldn't let her," Quentin said, happy to get the girl off of his chest.
But he was also worried.
A girl like that, she wouldn't survive out on the streets for very long.
Laurel looked at him, worry tinging her gaze.
"Well, if she escaped, didn't you try to go after her?" Laurel said, her lawyer side clearly showing through.
"I didn't see the point in chasing a girl who didn't want to be found," Quentin explained, only to have Laurel look back at him with a look of skepticism.
"That's literally the first thing in your job description. 'Going after people who don't want to be caught'. So, why couldn't you have just chased her? It would've been better for her," Laurel said, sarcasm latching on to her tone.
"Because. She looked so traumatized, I- I just didn't want to cause more of that, it being my fault or not," Quentin said.
Laurel now looked at him with a look of realization.
I know that I would've done the exact same thing, she thought.
But she still wondered if there was a way to find that girl, to help her.
"Laurel, I know what you're thinking," Quentin told her, amusement evident in his voice.
"You want to help everyone you meet, but baby, that's not possible," Quentin said.
"I know, Dad. Just, are you going to see a sketch artist or something? Just in case someone finds her?" Laurel asked, hoping for the best.
"Of course. I was going to go back down to the precinct right after this and see Connor, the sketch artist." Quentin said, drowning his soda.
Laurel nodded in approval, as she closed the pizza box and took it into the kitchen.
"And," Quentin said, following Laurel into the kitchen, "You never know. They might decide to keep the investigation open for that girl."
Laurel put the pizza box in the fridge and said," Good. Wait, what about her parents? When the girl went missing, they probably called it in, because she was missing. And all the parents give a good, in depth explanation of their child's appearance. What if you look through missing child records and see if you can find one that matches her description?" Laurel asked, leaning against the counter.
"That's a great idea, baby. I just, I don't want to leave, not yet. I mean, I just got here. I want to spend some more time with you," Quentin said, reaching over and rubbing his daughters' shoulder.
"Aww, dad. I'm touched but this is a girls' life that we are talking about. You can come back after you solve this mystery," Laurel said, giving her dad a smirk.
Quentin was torn. He wanted to spend more time with Laurel, as he had been feeling especially guilty lately with all of the cases that he had been working. They had taken his focus off of what was the most important; Laurel. He had lost his wife and his youngest daughter, he should he appreciating the father-daughter relationship that he had with Laurel.
But on the other hand, he knew that Laurel was right. This was a girls' life that they were talking about. A girls' life on the line.
"Okay, I'll go. Thank you, Laurel," Quentin decided, giving a silent thanks to her for how understanding she had been.
"There's one more thing, Dad. If you need an attorney for this case, call me. I would love to work with you again," Laurel asked.
"Of course. And I'd love that too," Quentin agreed, as he kissed Laurel on her forehead and headed towards the door.
Laurel raced ahead of him, opened the door, and said," Bye, Daddy. I wish you the best of luck." Laurel smiled.
Quentin smiled back and said," Thank you, baby."
As he walked down the hallway towards the stairway, he heard the apartment door gently closing.
I just want to help that girl, Quentin thought, as he walked into and down the stairwell, his steps echoing throughout the air.