2009

New York

She stalked her prey, melding into the shadows just as the Al Ghul taught her too. Her target was Beatrice Quail a businesswoman of sorts, a 'charitable angel' in the public eye being an advocate for human rights. What the public did not know was that this was Beatrice's ingenious cover to become a human trafficker in Eastern Europe. Beatrice deserves to die, she told herself, still, the knowledge that the target was unmarried with no children made Taer-Al-Asfar's job slightly easier, at least no one will miss her.

Beatrice entered her five story brownstone townhouse, the assassin was already inside having disabled the security system. There were no shadows to hide in as Beatrice turned on all the lights, completely oblivious to the intruder inside her home. Nevertheless the assassin was taught to work in total brightness too.

It was strange being in the States again, Starling City was only a 1 hour flight away. She could surprise her family at home. Will they be happy to see me? Especially after this? She lingered on that thought for a moment. It didn't sit well with her as if she had swallowed a stone.

The assassin treaded lightly on the cream carpet towards the bedroom, she had to make the death appear like a suicide. She had an idea of what she wanted to do, and she wished she did not have too. She peeked behind the wall and saw Beatrice sitting in her nightclothes in front of the dressing table, her back to her. It was ample opportunity, but as Taer-Al-Asfar leaned in to strike, the girl she used to be-Sara found her feet stuck to the floor.

Taer-Al-Asfar had to do this as per her orders, but Sara Lance was not a murderer. Sara Lance liked buying clothes online and craft classes, she made dumb mistakes with bad boys and bickered with her sister about whose turn it was to do the dishes, not this. It was an identity crisis of sorts. Her heart seemed to hammer in her head; she was already taking too long.

She took a step and then another, but as she turned into the room, her distorted figure reflected on a jewelry box and Beatrice saw it, rookie move. The trafficker spun wielding a gun; the assassin kicked it out of her hand. Beatrice was calling for help, and the assassin's mission was going to hell. I cannot fail, I cannot, it's my life or hers Sara repeated, it is only flesh, only blood. Mom, Dad, Laurel, I'm so sorry. Taer-Al-Asfar numbed her heart and rushed her, tackling Beatrice to the ground.

The woman was shocked by the masked assassin on top of her, her mouth one big 'O'. The guard outside could have heard something. She couldn't do this the way she wanted too, nice, slow and painless, no, she had to do it quick before the security system unjammed the locks. There was terror in the woman's eyes, pure and animalistic, human. Sara almost begged Beatrice -this vile, disgusting woman who sold innocent children and women into slavery-to forgive her. Taer-Al-Asfar jabbed her in the throat to silence her and then stuffed a rag inside. She spread Beatrice's hands, held them down with her knees, and then took out a knife.

Carve upwards at an angle; hit the artery, half an inch deep, right handed. Her target was crying but her screams were muffled. Emotionlessly and solemnly she said, "Ra's Al Ghul sends his regards" and slit Beatrice's wrists. The knife was coated with an anti-coagulant to prevent clotting. Beatrice was fighting to push her off, but the assassin was stronger. It took the longest time for her to die.

Blood gushed out, drenching the carpet and Beatrice's eyes went dead.

The stomp of feet sent the assassin on high alert. Coming towards her was one of the security guards who had responded to the cry for help. Before he could even cross the threshold, he was killed by an arrow through the back.

Nyssa Al Ghul sighed and bent to retrieve the arrow from the dead man, grunting as she pulled it out and redness soaked the carpet. When she straightened she met Sara's eyes directly, she felt a reprimand coming along.

"Are you alright?" The Al Ghul asked with concern Sara did not expect from the Heir.

Sara stepped away from Beatrice's body before the pooling blood could wet her boots. Both to prevent them from getting wet and also because she was utterly shocked at what she had just done. She'd taken someone's life. The rush of adrenaline made it feel as though her heart would leave her chest. "I'm sorry, I hesitated" she looked down, feeling inadequate standing before the Heir to the Demon. She left a forged note on the dresser. It was a final tiny detail to add to the evidence the League would anonymously release in the morning once Beatrice's maid found her, when they saw she had committed 'suicide'.

"You were able to carry through with the mission. Better than most I can assure you." Nyssa took out a switch blade which was so sharp and thin it was almost transparent. She delicately cut the skin around the arrow's puncture wound to make it appear rounder like a gunshot.

"Don't fret about the guard, once our evidence reaches the FBI, no one will ask any questions".

Sara silently nodded.

Nyssa glanced at her then at Beatrice's body, "Your first kill is not meant to be easy. It shows you." The Al Ghul got the gun from Beatrice's body and returned to fire it into the wall at the exact height and angle Beatrice would've if she had shot her own security guard herself. That was the way with the League sometimes, they had to make it seem as though they were never there.

Once they were done setting the scene, the pair left the brownstone via the rooftop. Sara felt heavy in her chest and stumbled more than once on the landings, her mind conflicted with itself, her head hurt.

"How do you feel?" Nyssa asked when they stopped for a moment. Normally they would leave in silence after Sara watched the Al Ghul do the killing, but this time was different. She had endured through watching Nyssa slice and stab and skewer victims with arrows. At first it was horrifying and disgusting, but the island had made her stomach stronger for these types of tasks. Then she accepted that it was a job, nothing more. But now that she had done her own killing, her entire body felt weighed down by some imaginary boulder on her shoulders. Underneath her jacket the hairs on her arms were still standing and her heart fluttered with each breath.

Nyssa had saved Sara from death in the North China Sea, but she had never been very chatty. She still did not know where she stood with her. Should she be eternally grateful? Were they friends? Or just teacher and student? Whatever it was, it seemed as though the Heir to the Demon was making some sort of effort to connect with Sara. She wasn't going to push that opportunity away. It could get lonely at times at Nanda Parbat, and Sara had no one else there but her to talk too.

"Guilty" she finally spoke, "like it wasn't really me who was doing the… killing" she said with remorse. "If I'd just stabbed her through the heart, ended it quickly, maybe it would be different…but I slit her wrists and let her bleed out. She fought…she really fought…"

What would Nyssa understand? Killing was part of who she was, she believes in it. She probably feels responsible for me, probably thinks I'm weak now. I swore my allegiance, I'm here to learn, and I have to kill to survive. Again and again…

"Repeat the code in your head, it helps for some" Nyssa suggested.

Sara sighed she tried to push the memory of the fear in Beatrice Quail out of her head. But it was as large and clear as a billboard shoved in her face. Will I even be able to sleep again? Yet everything the League had taught her was becoming clearer, as if it made...sense. She wasn't entirely faithful to them and the weight on her shoulders suggested she might not be able to give herself to League yet, if ever.

"What would really help is a drink."

Nyssa's eyes widened and Sara began to apologize for the outburst, "I'm sor—"

"There is nothing to apologize for." It was a dark, gloomy night and she could've been mistaken, but Nyssa was actually smiling. "I can see that you feel different. Maybe as if you're not yourself anymore? Taer-Al-Asfar, you should be proud, you were born with the instincts, the steel in your heart to do what we do. Death is the natural order of things, a merciful end to suffering. You should understand, you've returned from the brink of it twice. It is a freedom, a gift that Beatrice Quail did not deserve."

Sara agreed with her, but she didn't say anything, if she did, it would make how she truly felt more real…she was becoming one of them. She was raised by great parents whom believed in the justice system as it was, not this perversion of it. She was changing, but for better or for worse? Her heart ached at the thought of the little girl she used to be and what she would see if she were her now, looking at herself in horror—

Nyssa touched her arm. "You can talk to me Taer-el-Asfar, I won't judge."

"You don't understand…"

"Try me".

Present Day

September 15th 2014

The Glades, Starling City, 18:29 PM PST

Sara didn't often return to the memory of her first kill. What she did return it was to the memory of the first time she and Nyssa treated one another as friends. After that was established surviving in the League no longer felt so daunting and their friendship had blossomed into more. Half the reason she was even in the League was because of Nyssa. It terrified her to allow Nyssa into her heart, but she realized that it terrified Nyssa too.

They might kill for a living but that very fact made Sara appreciate life so much more. It taught her to see every human's role in the grand scheme of the world, or at least whatever vision Ra's had for it…

"Welcome back" called Laurel merrily, walking towards her. They met with a hug.

"You look great" said Sara. Her older sister had a happy aura surrounding her. She even looked healthier. She was glad Laurel had recovered from her alcoholism. It would've been harder to leave Starling if she had not. For the first time in years it seemed as though the Lance family had finally survived a crucible and had grown stronger for it.

"I've been doing really well actually. Have you seen dad?"

"Not yet, but I will soon. How's he doing?"

Sara had checked in on him periodically during her time away and visited him in the hospital sometimes unbeknownst to him or her sister. It was still a life of secrets and that was the only regret she had when she re-joined the League. She wished it wasn't one, especially now with the chaos she would face once she left Starling.

"He's making a steady recovery. But his little midnight escapades with the Arrow—Oliver, aren't doing him any favours." Oliver had informed Laurel of how far her father was pushing himself. She made a note to yell at him about it later.

"I don't want him to know I'm in Starling yet."

Laurel was worried Sara would say that, it would really help their father to see her. "So I'm guessing you're here for work and not a vacation."

Sara looked towards the distance, contemplatively. "These past few months in the League have been complicated."

When Sara was younger, Laurel could've read her insinuations like an open book. Nowadays her sister wore a mask even when she wasn't wearing one. "I wish I could tell you to quit your job."

"Some days it feels like that, but I chose this life because I wanted too" she smiled thoughtfully. No matter what Laurel intended to support her sister. It made no difference the person she was before and who she was now or whatever happened in the years she was presumed dead. It was not complicated for Laurel; she loved her sister unconditionally and missed her too.

"That's all we need to know Sara" she held her little sister's arm supportively. "Whatever is going on in the League, I know my sister is going to get through it and kick some ass while she's at it."

Laurel's cell phone blared with multiple messages, her countenance fell when she checked. "Urggh I have to go."

"Trouble at your job?" Sara asked. Laurel grimaced and put her phone away. "Long story short, I got a huge case today, it doesn't work with my morals. But it could save a lot of people too." She had thought about it for hours before meeting her sister. After doing some research and discovering that Vertigo was going international; she knew that a few liberated mercenaries and drug cooks was a small price to pay on her conscience if it could end the drug's manufacturing for good.

"I definitely know how that feels" Sara snickered. "Are we ever going to get tired of trying to save the world?"

Laurel chuckled and hugged Sara. "I guess we Lance's never learn" she looked at her sister before she left, "love you."

The Foundry, the Glades, Starting City, 19:03 PM PST

"When we get to Kyle Lim, don't let him out of your sight" Oliver told Roy, "get him to safety in case our archer tries to get in a kill-shot before I capture him".

His protégé slipped the mask over his eyes and nodded at the instruction. Oliver quickly smeared burn salve across his torso. It was an effort not to hiss when he rolled his undershirt back over the burns. They were still raw and ropey, coiling like a snake down his back. Digg would not be pleased if he was here to see him already suiting up for the field. Oliver gave one last sidelong glance at Felicity at her station and Roy took the hint to get the bikes ready on his own. He was in full Arrow suit but didn't flip his hood on yet.

"Felicity, we need to talk."

She breathed out a sigh of exasperation and stood up to face him, "those are four words no one likes to hear" she joked, but he could hear the doubt behind it. "And now is definitely a good time; we need to catch this guy".

He agreed, but she wasn't going to get rid of him that easily. "I hate leaving like this. Remember last week? After our date—"

"Literally exploded in our faces? Yup I remember" she ducked her head a little, fiddling with her nervous hands.

"I put my hood on and left you with questions, half answers, and I came back dying of Vertigo."

Felicity met his eyes and smiled, but unlike her other smiles this one wasn't as encouraging.

"And just like last week, this is not a good time." There was a slight pound in his chest that he knew was not due to the nerves of their upcoming battle.

Roy knocked and quietly told him the bikes were ready to go. Oliver took his comm from Felicity and held her hand before she could retreat it.

"This isn't over" he reminded her and squeezed. It was all he could give to her in that moment.

Starling International Airport, Starling City, 19: 41 PM PST

"ETA 2 minutes" Oliver said into his comm as he ran down the service entrance of Starling International, Roy running beside him. The assassin could not have a chosen a more public locale to murder his target, it just made Roy and Oliver's job that much harder. They would need to get to Kyle Lim and isolate him as soon as possible, while simultaneously trying to detain the archer.

"I got a trace on the archer's GPS device; he's headed to the South Wing. He'll intercept Kyle Lim in less time than that" Felicity warned.

"The airport is going to be packed with people Roy, let's try to avoid mass hysteria". The vigilantes entered silently through a warehouse full of unrecovered baggage, an area Felicity had conveniently ensured would be empty of airport security. "Over there I see him" Roy pointed to Kyle at the departure gate and sprinted to him.

A startled Mr. Lim did not take long to comprehend the situation he was in, but hesitated to go with the red archer, standing his ground adamantly. Plane travellers around them were beginning to gasp and stare open-mouthed. The Arrow readied his bow. If Lim was here, the assassin would be close by; he searched the rafters for vantage points.

"I've got Lim, no sign of—Arrow behind you!"

He rolled in time as an arrow landed vertically where he stood. Chaos broke out. As he came up from his roll he directed several arrows to the overhead balconies. There was no retaliation. The crowd went mad running for the exits, rocking like waves as they pushed past Oliver to get to safety. Roy had Lim pinned to the ground behind a counter. It felt as though he was waiting for hours before he finally saw a figure descending from directly above his head. He moved away in time as broadheads shot down intended to go through his skull.

"I was hoping you would not get in my way. Now I have no choice but to kill you" the assassin scorned as he landed softly onto floor. He was of medium height like Oliver, decked out in black hood and bow, wearing an outfit that eerily reminded him of Malcolm's League attire.

"Then you have no idea who you're up against" the Arrow swung his bow but the assassin lunged back before it could smack his jaw. The assassin's eyed flittered to where Roy was keeping Lim safe. Oliver got in his line of vision and they traded blows, his opponent moving with a fluid fighting style that was characteristic of the League. He threw a haymaker that the assassin ducked but didn't parry, then another. The assassin swung under again—and responded in turn with an uppercut. He heard the material of his sleeve rasp and leapt back as the assassin swung again, aiming for Oliver's throat, yielding a knife in his palm.

They were now in range to shoot one another. Arrows from both archers skittered to the floor, missing their targets as they played cat and mouse. Enough of this, it was time to go on the offensive. He charged, sending a net trick arrow at the archer. The assassin leapt five feet, the net missing him. He turned and crashed through the window. Oliver jumped out, twisted in the air and used a graphing hook to swing down to chase after the assassin. Oliver landed on the tarmac and spotted the archer stealing into a fuselage hanger.

The Arrow and his partner cornered the assassin. Oliver aimed two quick hits in the chest whilst Roy kicked the assassin's hamstring. They worked together but it was too soon to say they had succeeded.

An unfortunate mechanic appeared from beneath the plane's arching wing, baffled at the three archers before him… The Arrow knew what was coming next. The assassin jumped and kicked Oliver in the chest, simultaneously using him as a ledge as he shot at the mechanic.

To him it happened slowly. Roy ran backwards and took the arrow's hit, saving the innocent bystander. Oliver was at a loss for words. Distracted by the sight of his partner lying wounded on the floor he did not notice the assassin slinking away. There was no choice to make, he sprinted to the younger man on the floor. "We need back-up! Roy's been shot!" He reported, thereafter remembering he did not have back-up, because he did not have Diggle anymore.

"Oliver, I'm fine" Roy rasped. He ordered the ogling mechanic to run for the hills. Oliver dropped to one knee beside his protégé. The arrow was lodged in the left shoulder. It would make drawing his string a little more difficult for the next few weeks, but it was not fatal.

"Don't move. I'm catching this guy!"

"Digg called in an ARGUS favor, they've got Kyle Lim, but the archer is headed back to the south wing" Felicity informed. As Oliver neared the building, he skidded to a halt when Felicity was shouting into his ear piece; "stop! Stop! Something's happening!"

"What?" He demanded impatiently.

"Sara's there".

The Starling Archer reused his grappling hook to re-enter the departure hall. He was confused. Sara had said she did not know the assassins or the targets, but then why else would she be here?

Unless she had lied to them.

"Simon Lacroix!" A booming voice called. He could recognize that voice anywhere; it was the Canary's.

"Taer-Al-Asfar, it's been too long" the assassin-Simon-greeted with a mix of comradery and spite. He was incredibly tempted to interrupt the confrontation, but for some reason he didn't. They hadn't seen him yet. Oliver hid behind a podium and listened.

You should have died a traitor's death" said Sara contemptously.

"It takes one to know one, little bird" he sneered, reminding her of her runaway attempt. "It seems the League has double standards now. It has worsened since my departure. Was it worth it? Selling your freedom to Ra's?"

"I didn't sell it. I joined because I wanted too. And now I must carry out my orders."

"Which are…?"

"…to bring him your head."

The Arrow vaulted across the balcony railing. His arrows flew at Lacroix before his feet touched the ground. Sara cursed, but her anger was directed towards him as well. She spun her staff at Simon's chest. Lacroix back-flipped away and before either of them could charge an attack, a cloud of smoke burst through the room from a distant source that none of them could explain. It cleared within moments. Oliver stared at empty hallways. Simon Lacroix was nowhere to be found.

And neither was Sara Lance.

The Foundry, Starling City 20:40 PM PST

He was starting to see how annoying it was when he pulled disappearing acts of his own, similarly to the one Sara and Simon had pulled on him. Disappearing in a puff of smoke, are they magicians now? By the time he went back to grab Roy the airport was swarming with cops. There was no way they could track Simon or Sara with Roy injured. The very fact that she had to be tracked was worrying enough. She should be on our side.

"Kyle Lim was the last name on the Hit List. Call Lance; tell him that Lim is safe with ARGUS, but we don't have our man yet" he ordered Felicity a little too bossily. From the returning surly frown she gave he could feel an argument itching its way to the surface. He went to get the first aid kit out for Roy.

The wound was not deep, but he wasn't going to let his sidekick back into fights like that anytime soon. Roy did a brave thing, saving that mechanic from the arrow. If 'Simon Lacroix' was willing to injure an innocent who was not his target just to distract his enemies, then he was definitely not a mercenary to be trifled with.

"Where's Sara?" Felicity asked.

He didn't look at her, just focused on bandaging Roy, "she disappeared in the midst of the fight. But she knew the archer, Simon Lacroix, he's former League" he said between clenched teeth.

Felicity could read between the lines, it was troubling for her to process. "Oh.I see. Sara didn't tell us that when she came to see us" she said hesitantly. "So—"

"-So she lied to our faces" he continued, saying what was on all their minds.

"I'm sure she has a reasonable explanation".

"Maybe-" he turned to her and met her eyes for a moment before going to his bow case "-but we can't trust her."

"Oliver—"

And here comes the argument. He bowed his head and spun on his heel to face her. "Three people are dead Felicity. We could've stopped them if we knew who he was."

She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled; "Sara didn't know who he was targeting—"

"She did. She saw the list of potential targets before your algorithm finished. Otherwise how would she have known to find him there when we did? The only thing that was important to her was capturing Simon Lacroix for treason. Not stopping him from killing."

The truth deeply saddened him. He loved Sara. But she had darkness within her, and many years ago he had it too, but there was no remedy for hers. You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved.

Felicity stepped in front of him and raised her voice. He was surprised by the silent fury in her blue irises. "That might be true. But you've had your share of secrets too. But I—" she licked her lips and corrected herself, "—we still trusted you".

"There's a difference."

"How is it any different?!"

"Because I'm here! I'm looking out for the people of this city. I don't have someone else's agenda in the back of my mind!"

"Give her a chance" by then he could hear the plea in her voice. In the end, he needed her to help him see the right direction to take.

"I will" he said slowly, sighing, yielding to her. "This is Sara, and I haven't forgotten how important she is to us. But if I think there's something we deserve to know—then I have no choice but to call her out on it."

That sated Felicity enough to put out the fire she wanted to unleash on him. She was obviously angry at him for a great many things, not just this, he couldn't blame her. She went upstairs for some air and Oliver tended to Roy's wound. The night was just getting started.

Starling General Hospital, 21:44 PM PST

Felicity Smoak liked to think she had a positive outlook on life. Sure her life had been threatened more times than the average IT tech would be expected too (a probability even her most efficient algorithms could not determine). And sure, she lived in a city that had survived two separate terrorists' attacks in less than as many years, plummeting employment and population rates.

And sure, she had a depressing job (she couldn't make 'I have a night shift' sound any less horrible than it does) but despite it all; there were special, rare moments where she appreciated the beauty of life and all its gifts. What was making her feel this way? Watching Lyla and Diggle gazing adoringly at their new-born baby girl.

She delicately brushed the baby's little tuffs of hair. "She's so cute. Congratulations you guys" she told Diggle and Lyla, a dopey smile on her face as she soaked in the baby's cuteness.

Oliver arrived at the ward then and gave his congratulations. She truly hoped whatever was going on with Sara would blow over. Sara might have joined an insidious organization of highly-skilled assassins but she was no less a good person. Felicity would never understand why anyone would want to choose that kind of life. Forever living in the shadows. But similarly no one would ever understand why she chose to spend her nights in a run-down foundry/lair helping a green-hooded archer vigilante save the city with her tech prowess. It's all relative.

...

Diggle pulled Oliver aside intending to speak with him, but his eyes never left his baby as he indulged in her loveliness. "You were right Oliver. I can't miss out on this, being part of her life. Seeing her changed everything for me, for the better."

He clapped Digg on the shoulder and pulled him into a brotherly hug. "That's all I wanted for you."

Felicity and Oliver left the new parents to coddle their new born. A close friend having a child made him nostalgic. He could've been a father once if Sandra had not lost the baby. He remembered being extremely frightened yet thrilled all at once.

Maybe it was for the best that she had lost the child given what he would eventually become. But he could not think about the past like that or he would drive himself insane. Sara's visit and Diggle's child put things into perspective for Oliver. It was what made him pull Felicity aside so that they could finally have that forsaken talk they'd both been avoiding.

"They make a beautiful family" she said smiling in genuine happiness, which made him think, does she want children of her own? Sometimes he wondered what she wanted from this life and what he could give her. Thus far, it didn't seem like much.

"Yeah they do" he touched her arm, gulping down the lump in his throat, "Felicity, we need to have that talk."

Her face instantly fell, "I don't want too. In fact, we don't have too. I know what you're going to say." She looked ready to walk away, but not talking about something as important as this, from his experience, never ended well for both parties.

"Please Felicity" he pleaded and she listened, albeit reluctantly. "I am so sorry. When I asked you out, I was ready to be myself, to be Oliver Queen. When I started all this I had to put him aside. I didn't think I could ever be a real person, or let my guard down, or trust anyone. Until I met you and then for a moment I thought it was possible to be him again." Oliver wanted to tell her a thousand more things, but telling her that he loved her would only make it real and more hopeless than it already was. He felt like a bull in a china shop destroying everything in his wake.

"But now, I don't think I can be both."

She stared at him in incredulity, "both? Oliver, you aren't the Arrow or Oliver Queen. You aren't a mask but neither are you an ex-billionaire playboy who lost his company. You're so much more. To me, you are yourself when you're in the lair with us. You're not pretending to your family and you're not shooting criminals with arrows. You are completely honest with who you are. That's the man I became friends with, who I trust...who I—"

She didn't get a chance to finish when his Arrow phone beeped. His alter ego was getting in the way of many aspects of his life. All the more reason he was not suited to be Oliver Queen anymore.

"It's Roy."

"You should answer it" she urged. "He wouldn't call on that number unless it was an emergency. Something might have gone wrong." Indeed she was right about the last part as he was about to find out.

Oliver heard the tell-tale sounds of arrows being fired and the grunts of struggles and then Roy's cry;

"HELP! I can't hold them off! I need back up!"