Author Note: So, here's chapter 5! I actually wrote all of it, right after I finished watching Arrow's series finale. I honestly just want to say how much Arrow had helped me over the years. Like, words just can't describe. If I was having a tough time, Arrow was always there to distract me and help me get through it. Sure, Supergirl might've been my first love, but Arrow will always and forever be in my heart. I couldn't contemplate with the fact that Arrow was over, so I just wrote a chapter of Fanfic instead. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and like usual, please leave a review, because they help more than you know:)
P.S: I obviously don't own Arrow or any of the characters that I use, because if I did, Laurel never would've died.
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Laurel awoke. She could feel her mind getting less fuzzy by the minute. But, in that same amount of time, anxiety was rising.
She felt stronger than when she had fallen asleep. Speaking of which, how long was she out for? Laurel usually didn't sleep for very long, due to the very real fear of someone getting her.
The air where she was didn't smell like the old, dingy air of her cell, and instead of a rock- hard concrete floor, she was laying on what had to be a couch. There were fuzzy blankets atop her and a feather-soft pillow holding her head up.
Ow, my head, she thought. She then reached out to the rest of her body, only to wish that she hadn't. Her whole body felt like it had been beaten and lashed out on. Then again, she thought, that is what happened. Every time she tried to breathe, her chest felt like it was going to explode. And even trying to think straight was difficult, what with her head feeling as if someone was pounding on it with a jackhammer.
Even though all she wanted was peace, in sleep, Laurel decided to find out where she was, since she had little memory of what had happened the night before.
She reached out with her ears, and could hear typing, then whispered murmuring about something. Feet were shuffling, not close to her but also not far away.
So, Laurel made the brave, but anxiety inducing move; she opened her eyes. Honestly, she was surprised that she even could, judging by how tired and weak she was. So when she did, she was amazed but also confused.
Above her, were metal rafters, reaching very high. She used her powers of deduction to figure out that this place was probably underground.
There were green and white lights reflecting from everything; it looked almost like a base. Reaching back into her memories, those lights reminded her of something.
She, Oliver, Thea, Digg and Felicity were all being taken down an elevator, which had the same color lights. They had then walked into a huge base, complete with military-level tec, several different training and sparring mats and a wall full of display cases, to keep their suits in.
She latched on to that memory as she slowly tilted her head to the side, only to find six faces staring back at her. Because of her concussion, her memory was foggy. But even though it was foggy, she couldn't mistake the people that she saw anywhere.
" Oliver, Felicity, John? Am I in the bunker?" Laurel asked in a small voice, amazed by what she was seeing.
Among those three, there was also Barry, Caitlin and Cisco, her friends, or really family from Team Flash. They all gazed at her with such a loving warmth that it made her heart break.
The Ghosts had told her that they were all dead. That they'd been killed by Damien Darhk, that they had lost the seemingly ever-going war.
Yet, there they were standing, healthy and happy. Laurel couldn't help but cry tears of joy. She had been rescued! This was what she had been wanting for the past nine months. Words couldn't describe the thoughts that were going through her head.
She wanted to go over to them, to hug them and feel their touch to make sure that this wasn't just some sick game. But, as she tried to get up, she found that she was too weak. She wasn't surprised, so she just settled for propping herself up on her elbows. Still very difficult, but manageable.
Oliver could see that she was struggling, so he bent down beside her, emotions taking him over, and said," Laurel, relax. You're weak."
And as he did, he reached out towards her, wanting to hold her hand.
Laurel wanted to meet him halfway, for their two hands to embrace. But all she could imagine when she saw his hand, so willing to meet hers, was the filthy, dirty, grimy hand of a Ghost.
They had always grabbed both of her hands and slammed her against the walls, leaving bruises as they forced themselves on her. Laurel closed her eyes as her breath hitched, tears pouring out of her eyes as her thoughts spun uncontrollably.
Before she knew it, she had her trembling hands rested on her face, trying to calm herself down as she fought a rising sense of panic. It was getting harder and harder to breathe by the second.
As sobs racked through her broken body, Oliver stayed by her side. Seeing her reaction, he had drawn his hand away, not wanting to upset her more. Instead he just gazed at her, the love of his life, trying to think of what to do.
Oliver had had these, he guessed they were called panic attacks, many times before. He reached back into his memory, trying to remember the things that he did to calm himself. He hadn't been with anyone when they happened; they had mostly occured when he was reminded of a not-so-nice memory from the island.
Laurel's mind just kept replaying those terrible moments of torture, as her sense of reality dipped away. She was trying, but she couldn't make it stop. She then found herself gasping for air, as her panic peaked.
Suddenly, Oliver remembered. He had always thought of Laurel. How she had gotten him through those five years full of pain and suffering. Maybe, just maybe, if he got her to think of some happy, joyous moments with him, or her family, it would be enough.
Laurel was sinking deeper into the darkness, as she heard a voice. It sounded detached, far away.
" Laurel, just breathe. Focus on my voice. Focus on all the happy memories that we have together," Oliver soothed, hoping that it would help.
As Oliver said this, Laurel's mind drifted a little bit. It drifted to the night when Oliver had told her that he was The Vigilante. There had been so many emotions, but most of all, love. At that, she was reminded that she still loved Oliver.
Laurel's breathing became a little steadier, as she listened again for that detached voice, that was so familiar.
" Remember, the first time you put on you Black Canary suit?" Oliver asked, wanting her mind to ease off of the panicking topic.
Laurel's mind flashed to another memory. She was walking into their old bunker, with her sister's Canary suit on. Digg and Felicity were there, looking at her with happiness in their gazes.
" You know, if this is going to become a regular thing, we need to come up with something other than ' The Canary', as your code name," Digg had said.
" Yeah, I was thinking, ' Black Canary'." She had said, a dazzling smile lighting up across her face. It was close enough to ' The Canary', so that she could still honor her sister but different enough to distinguish between the two of them.
As she thought about this, Laurel's heart rhythm slowed, until it was almost back to normal. Her racking sobs ceased to regular tears, as she tried even harder yet to rid the bad memories from her head.
She thought more about her family, how they had always been there for her. And, if Laurel was being honest, they were the reason that she was still alive. The memory of them, or most importantly of Ollie, was the light at the end of her never-ending tunnel.
As part of her senses returned, she heard Ollie say," Laurel, it's okay. You're safe now."
Laurel was calmer, but could still feel the looming threat of panic. Even so, she slowly removed her hands from her face, and opened her eyes.
Her friends and family were staring in her direction, concern in their eyes. She wanted to thank all of them, to catch them in a tight embrace but she just let her body go limp. The crying and shaking and the memories, oh the memories, had left her both physically and emotionally drained.
She willled for sleep to take her, but she knew that it wouldn't; she was too scared. Still violently trembling, Laurel tried to block out the memories. It was impossible. She tried to think of other, much happier memories, but every memory lead to another one, which always lead back to torture.
Seeing this, Oliver sympathized for her. He knew exactly how she was feeling. Alone, helpless, afraid. How you felt as if nothing and no one in the world could help you.
Slowly, Oliver got up from his kneeling position and walked over to Caitlin. The two exchanged a few short words, which ended with Caitlin sighing and pointing to the smallest of three boxes. Solemnly, Oliver walked over to it, only to open it and reveal several packaged medical needles.
He picked one up, along with a glass jar full of very powerful sedative. Oliver then unwrapped the package, glancing over at Laurel, who was still visibly in pain and sucked some of the clear liquid into the needle.
Oliver walked over to the love of his life and, staring at her with such love and affection, stuck the needle into her arm, quickly injecting the liquid into it. There was some struggle, clearly she didn't like it. But, Oliver decided, It's for the best.
Laurel then hung limp once more, the notes of trembling slowly leaving her bruised body. He turned away, sadness and grief in his eyes, as he said," I think that we all need to prepare ourselves for the worst. Laurel, well, she's broken," he sighed, a tear escaping his eye.
But before he knew it, more and more were leaking out, and he was in Diggle's arms. He knew that he was safe but Laurel, he was hopelessly unsure.