Chapter 137: Best Friends

"Are you sure I couldn't come?"

"Positive, Kara," Sam told her best friend. She was currently in a taxi, being driven to her old hometown Sunvale on the outskirts of Metropolis for the reading of Patricia's will. The funeral had already happened the previous day: a short, but somber affair arranged by the local funeral director and financed by Sam. Ruby and her attended it with several of the residents of Sunvale who were close to Patricia and/or her long-deceased husband.

Sam was taking a taxi to Sunvale again because she had deemed it too much of a hassle to rent a car for what was going to be a brief visit, especially since Sunvale wasn't that far from Metropolis, where she was staying. "The lawyer was very clear that the beneficiaries had to come alone unless they were underage. I couldn't even bring Ruby, even though she's legally Patricia's granddaughter." Ruby, instead, was spending the day with an old college friend of Sam's, with the promise of meeting later tonight for dinner.

"Well, okay. If that's how it goes. Tell me if you need anything?"

"Of course," answered Sam. She peered out the window as the familiar sight of Sunvale began to seep through. "Sorry, got to go. We're almost there. Later, Kara."

"Later, Sam."

Sam hung up the call, before quickly surfing her email on her phone to make sure there was nothing important she needed to deal with. Once that she was certain that there wasn't, she put the phone on sleep mode and stored it into her purse, just in time for her taxi to arrive at the office of her adoptive mother's lawyer, who was also the executor of Patricia's will.

She supposed the will reading wouldn't be particularly long. Patricia had already paid off all her debts thanks to Sam's help all those months ago, but she didn't have a lot of income herself, so there wasn't a lot of money to inherit for anyone. Truth be told, the only thing Patricia had of value was the farm and homestead. Chances are that Sam wouldn't be getting any of the money since she was the last person that needed it, and it instead would go to charity or whatever other beneficiaries of the will there would be.

But as for the farm and homestead — well, more than likely that is what Sam would inherit. She had grown up on that farm for sixteen years, worked its fields and tended to its livestock. That farm had been everything to Patricia, and she would do anything to make it sure it was cared for, that it was in the right hands after she was gone for good. For all that their relationship was terrible, Sam doubted Patricia would've trusted anyone but her with making sure that happened. She might not be able to run the place herself anymore, but she could certainly ensure it would be treated with respect by whoever would come to run it in her place.

Sam entered the small storefront and headed directly towards the secretary's desk, where she was directed to the lawyer's office. The rest of the beneficiaries were already there, old family friends that she had seen at the funeral the previous day. They each gave her respectful greetings and nods, ones that she returned before finding her own seat in front of the executor — a young woman named Rachel Dawes that Sam was fairly certain she attended high school with.

With all the beneficiaries now present, Rachel did a customary greeting before running through some guidelines and offering to answer any questions at the end of the reading. Then she began, first by revealing the last date the will had been updated. Sam was not particularly surprised to learn that it had been about a month and a half ago, not long after she and her adoptive mother had their final falling out. Patricia's financial status had done a complete turn around during that time, which would've necessitated a change in the will depending on what assets she had managed to keep or buy by that point.

Rachel ran through the will with a well-practiced neutral tone and a customary pause after each clause, likely for outbursts. A habit, most likely, from wills with more… unexpected dispensations. It was polite but unnecessary, and just made things drag on a little longer than it should have for Sam. Nothing in the document was surprising. It was all as Sam expected; money and valuable heirlooms split between various friends and charities, and the farm and the land it sat on gifted to Sam to do as she wish — with one tiny caveat.

"A letter?" Sam blinked, automatically reaching out to take the sealed envelope Rachel was giving her.

"Yes," Rachel confirmed. "She's asked you to read it today, while you're visiting the house. In the will, Patricia insisted you do it alone, though obviously there's no way for me or anyone else to legally enforce that."

Sam frowned as she stared down at the parchment. It was in good condition, but clearly old and dated. Whatever it was, Patricia had written it a long time ago, likely not longer after their estrangement. There was no reason to do something like that unless her adoptive mother suspected she might die before she got around to telling Sam whatever was in this letter. If that was true, well…

Patricia had always been distant. And as their last interactions proved, a liar. It's not surprising she had some kind of dirty little secret that she never told Sam before, one that she was confessing in death so she wouldn't have to face consequences of it in life. It was tempting to let the letter burn for that, but curiosity won out. Sam would read it. She guessed she owed Patricia that much.

It was hours later before Sam got the chance. First she had to pack up everything inside the farmhouse that was going to the other beneficiaries. An easy, if tedious thing to do. Patricia didn't have many heirlooms or anything she really particularly valued besides the farm. Everything that wasn't hard cash was more-or-less going to Sam.

After that was done, it was nearing sunset. Sam knew that she needed to leave soon to make it back to Metropolis for dinner with Ruby, but she still had to read the letter, see if there was anything else she had to clean out or report, like stolen gold or a dead body in the backyard. The CEO supposed she was being unfair to her dead adoptive mother, but, well… hard feelings didn't go away so easily. Even when you're mourning.

So, with a deft hand, she located Patricia's trusty letter opener in its usual drawer in the kitchen and cut the envelope open in one fell swoop. Sam took out the letter and set the envelope somewhere else, before unfolding the letter and beginning to read, furrowing when she saw it was rather short. Or at least, shorter than expected.

Dear Sam,

If you're reading this, then not only am I dead, but I never got around to telling you the truth about your parents. Now I know what you're thinking, you're parents are dead and I raised you, etc. That it doesn't matter at all, as we've both said before.

But it does. I lied to you Sam, about your parents. You weren't ready to know the truth then. I was planning on telling you when you were eighteen, but then you got pregnant and… well, we both know what happened. That was my fault, I can admit that now. Maybe I should've just brought you back and told your truth right after the birth. But… for a while, I guess it didn't matter.

Sam, I can't tell you the truth in this letter. You wouldn't believe it. So, instead, you need to see the truth yourself. You remember the shed in the back of the house? The one I forbid you and everyone else from entering?

There's a key for the lock to that shed hidden in my room, on the bottom drawer of my right nightstand. Use it to open the lock, and make sure you're alone. If it's night, turn on the light. Only one thing is in the shed, it's hidden under a tarp. Once you remove it, you'll see why I couldn't tell you outright. There'll be another letter for you by me inside it. You'll see it.

There wasn't a signature. But of course there wasn't — this was a two-part letter, and Patricia clearly wasn't done telling Sam whatever she wanted to tell her. Honestly, the entire thing was giving her this weird feeling of doom, but curiosity won out, so Sam followed Patricia's post-mortem directions and found the key.

She headed out of the house and walked around the left side of the building, the path towards the shed. Sam remembered that place well, approaching it when she was young and even more curious than she was now, only to be warded off — rather harshly, now that she was thinking about — by her mother. She had tried sneaking in for weeks before Patricia issued an ultimatum involving her ice cream privileges. After that, Sam stopped, and eventually stopped caring about the place altogether.

The lock was a touch rusty, but still opened. She removed the key and took the lock with her, not wanting to risk being locked inside, however unlikely it was. It was already nearing sunset, so the shed was dark inside. Sam turned out the light, pulling on the metal string, before she saw it — the tarp.

"Now let's see…" Sam looked around until she found a loose edge of the tarp. She grabbed, lifted, pulled…

And froze.

"What the hell."

It was a spaceship. A spaceship.

Was this some kind of joke? Was she getting Punk'd? Was Patricia gonna show up out of nowhere and yell "Gotcha!" or something?

Sam quickly searched the… ship over, searching for that letter Patricia had promised her. The one that would explain everything. Surely it was a joke. Surely Patricia didn't spend her… her entire life lying to her about her origins. About the fact that she wasn't human!

It was a hoax, it had to be. Sam found the letter in the seat of this clearly fake spaceship. She quickly ripped it open and unfolded the letter inside, eyes running over the words with a deep desperation.

Sam,

If you're reading this, then you've found the ship. Now, I know what you're thinking, but it's not fake. It's real. I… I didn't adopt you. I found you, in this.

I probably should've reported it to the government, but you looked so helpless… I couldn't do it. I didn't have the heart to do it, as hard as you might find that to believe. So I took you with me, and I raised you.

I was going to tell you when you were eighteen. I swore I would. But then… well. And I thought that was better, because it meant you got to live your own life. A normal life. One that you wouldn't be willing to give up when you finally did find out the truth.

If you hate me for this, then I don't blame you. God knows I haven't been the best parent. But I did love you, if I didn't show it well. As long as you remember that, then I can rest in peace.

With all my heart,

Patricia

Sam dropped the letter, and stared.

It's real. This is real.

She was an alien.

She was an alien.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…"

Sam touched the ship, trailing across it's hull, still desperately trying to prove that this wasn't happening. Unfortunately, the universe was not a fan of her today, because all her touch did was activate some kind of panel hidden on the side. It glowed ominously, before causing an apparatus to extend itself from the front of the ship. On it was some sort of crystal that Sam couldn't help but stare at.

She should leave it where it is. Throw back the tarp on, lock up the shed, and pretend this, none of this, ever happened and that she was never here. That…that this didn't exist. Do that, leave the farm as is, and hope that no one would ever find out what was here.

But…

Sam swallowed, and took the crystal. She put the tarp back on. She turned off the light, left the building, locked the shed…

And fled.

"A house fire?" Tommy blinked.

"Yeah," Oliver sighed, twisting his fork in his pasta. "According to Barry, the initial report said that one of the Thawnes' cars had an unexpected gas leakage near some kind of combustible — they're not sure what. The fire started in the garage and quickly spread throughout the house, trapping the Thawnes in before they could escape."

"Poor Eddie," Laurel said with no small amount of sympathy. "To be with his parents like that, only to lose them a few hours later and not find out until the next day? I couldn't imagine how he felt when they told him."

Oliver winced. Both Laurel and Tommy noticed. "Ollie?" Tommy probed. "What are you thinking?"

"Well, from what I understand from Barry, Eddie's parents weren't… well, they weren't really what you'd call model parents."

Laurel frowned. "How bad?"

Another wince. "Barry said they made Malcolm look like Father of the Year," Oliver admitted with a bit of reluctance.

Both of his dining companions were stunned. "My father was a terrorist," Tommy stated bluntly. He had made peace with that fact a long time ago, and reconciling with the kinda-but-not-really-dead Malcolm had not changed that. Tommy was many things, but he wasn't someone that was going to ignore reality.

"Yeah, but at least he loved you, Tommy. It was a really twisted and messed up love, but we all know he would've never done anything to deliberately hurt you." Oliver exhaled. "If what Barry is telling me is true, Eddie's parents only ever saw him as another extension of themselves, a prop to help Hugo with his political career. They didn't even visit him during his coma."

"Seriously?" Tommy gaped. "That's messed up, man."

"Yeah—"

And suddenly the lights shut off, darkening the entire apartment. In the darkness, Tommy allowed himself a small smirk, before changing it in favor of shock and surprise. It was finally time.

This had been the moment they had working towards ever since Tommy had come back to Star. The turning point where Tommy would reveal the League of Shadows to Oliver and bring him into the fold. A staged attack by the "Assassins", upon which Tommy would intervene and save Oliver and Laurel, and reveal what's going on. After that, Tommy would bring Oliver to Malcolm, who would reveal himself to Oliver as his true father and explain the situation fully to him, how he had trained Tommy so he could protect them both.

They'd have to keep the Queens' involvement in the plan on the down low in order to fully turn Oliver to their side, but it would be worth it. With the resources of Queen Consolidated behind them when Oliver officially became CEO, they'd be able to properly arm themselves for war with the Assassins, and more easily arrange a death for Green Arrow. They would have to wait until Supergirl was out of town for a JL mission of course, and probably have to kill Black Canary as well, but it would be worth it just to make sure that Ra's al Ghul's lap dog could no longer threaten them.

It was all coming together. All that was left was staging this attack properly. Obviously, Tommy didn't intend to actually kill any of his fellow members of the Shadows. There were techniques that he had been taught by his father to help simulate a state of death for people. All he had to do was make sure their head coverings stayed on, and Oliver would be none the wiser.

The lights turned on. The "Assassins" were there, already beginning to draw their weapons. Tommy tensed—

But Oliver moved first. He skid his chair across the floor, kicking over the table and creating a makeshift barrier for Tommy. "Stay there!" He shouted at his best friend, stunning the other man and the "Assassins".

Ignorant of their disbelief, Oliver flipped over his chair, grabbing it by its back and then smashing it over the head of one of them, knocking him to the ground. He grabbed the shaft of the arrow fired at him by another and then twisted and turned his body so he could launch it back in one smooth motion. The arrow flew as if it had been fired by an actual bow, piercing the neck of the "Assassin" and causing her to collapse, dying as she choked on her own blood.

The other assassin finally managed to shake off the cobwebs and tried to cut down Oliver from the back, only for the other man to sense him and dodged. Undeterred, the warrior continued to swing, Oliver dodging each blow until he saw the opening he wanted. The archer slammed a single palm strike into the solar plexus of his opponent, causing him to stumble back in pain, before disarming him entirely of his sword and stabbing him with it. The "Assassin" let out a final, pained gasp, before expiring.

As for the last assassin, upon realizing how classed he was, tried to flee. But he was sent flying by a low-level Canary Cry, landing on his back, disoriented. He sat up, trying to get his bearings, when he saw Oliver approaching him. In panic, his bit down and accidentally crushed the cyanide pill hidden in his tooth. Both Oliver and Laurel both watched grimly as he collapsed from cyanide poisoning, foaming at the mouth.

Laurel, standing from where she delivered her Cry, walked over to her boyfriend and took his hands. "You alright, Ollie?"

"Yeah," Oliver breathed out, only a touch out of breath. "Not a scratch. They weren't particularly skilled."

His girlfriend nodded, peering down at the dead assailants. "They're dressed as Assassins. But unless we did something to piss of Ra's, which I highly doubt, these are probably Shadows. Talia?"

Oliver shook his head. "Talia is too clever to use the same trick twice. If it is the Shadows, then they're likely under new leadership."

"Well—"

"What is going on?"

The couple blinked and turned around, seeing Tommy standing behind the table. He was staring at them both as if he had never seen them before. "Ollie, Laurel… how…?" He trailed off.

Laurel swallowed. "I'm sorry, Tommy. We've been keeping things from you. I know that it makes it seem like we don't trust you, but what we do is dangerous. We thought you and everyone else would be better off not knowing."

"Not knowing what?"

His friends exchanged another look. Laurel sighed. "I'm Black Canary, Tommy," she confessed.

Tommy froze. "You're Black Canary?" He almost couldn't believe it, if it hadn't been for that sonic scream Laurel used. The Black Canary was the only person on this earth known to have that metahuman power. Laurel had to be her.

But if Laurel was the Black Canary… "Then… Ollie, you…?"

Oliver sighed as well. "Yeah, Tommy." He looked up, and looked his friend dead in the eye.

And then he said them. The words Tommy never expected to hear.

(The words Tommy never wanted to hear.)

"I'm Green Arrow."

And that's it for this act! And what a way to end it, right? Just wait until the next act — that's when the fun really begins.

That's gonna be for a bit, though. Still need to finish Act III before I start posting again. Luckily I've already got like four chapters of that done. I don't know how many are left, but when it's done, I'll start posting again. For now, however, you can all chew on this.

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

(Seriously, it needs updating.)