To Be a Bird of Prey

Origins

II .The Coveted

Chapter Five

"How do we always end up here?"

Sara rolled her eyes at Helena's remark, though maybe she had a point; they did seem to end by at the docks a lot, wherever they went.

This time, however, they were doing it in daylight – with a few accessories to make them less easy to recognize, of course. Sin had a place by the docks where she liked to hang out, often by herself, and Sara hoped to catch her at such a time.

Her friend didn't disappoint.

She jumped from behind a few barrels, poised to either fight or run, then promptly froze in the spot; the next moment, Sara was catching her in a hug.

"Good to see you, too," Sara told her warmly when Sin pulled back, taking a moment to give the girl a proper onceover; she looked good. Better than when she'd last seen her.

Sin was still holding onto her arms, with a smile that showed all her teeth, and she looked like she was about to speak when Helena's presence finally seemed to catch her attention. Her head tipped to the side. "Who's your friend?"

Sara looked over her shoulder, to where Helena stood a couple of steps away. "Sin, this – " she motioned for her partner to come closer – "is Helena."

Helena stepped up to them, briefly waving her fingers through the air. "Hi."

Sin frowned for a moment, before her eyes widened. "Wait...Helena, as in Helena Bertinelli, as in the Huntress?"

Sara could have laughed at the way her jaw dropped.

"You're friends with the Huntress, no way!" Sin let out.

Helena clucked her tongue. "Well, at least people still remember me," she commented.

Sara shook her head, smiling at the dumbstruck expression on Sin's face, before she asked, "So, how've you been?"

There was a beat, where she still looked at Helena like she couldn't quite comprehend that she was there, before she shrugged, a little smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. "I got myself a high-profile friend, too," she said, and Sara couldn't help but grin. Same old Sin.

"As it happens, that's exactly why we're here," Helena interjected.

It only took a moment for Sin's expression to grow more guarded. "What do you want with her?"

"Malcolm Merlyn, actually," Sara said, to which Sin turned her wary look on her. "Look, Sin," she added, "there's a lot you don't know about me. Like why I left without saying goodbye last time."

"Yeah, that was a dick move," Sin agreed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"She does have a history of those," Helena supplied, making Sin frown; Sara cleared her throat pointedly.

"Wait..." Helena let out, catching on. "You don't know who she is, do you?"

"I know enough," Sin stated flatly.

Sara threw a rather self-satisfied look in Helena's direction; the latter ducked her head to hide her smile.

"I'd tell you more," Sara turned back to Sin, dropping her voice to a more serious note, "but it's best for everyone, and me, that very few people know the whole truth."

Sin gave an annoyed little tilt of her head. "Yeah, I get that," she deadpanned. "So, Malcolm Merlyn?"

"We need to know why he ran," Sara said simply. "And your friend Thea was the last to see him."

"So...what? You want me to fish for answers?"

"If you wouldn't mind," Helena said sweetly.

Sin spared them both looks, then stuffed her hands in her pockets. "Look," she said, "it's cool that you're going after that freak or whatever, but Queen's in a bad place right now, and Abercrombie's not helping either. So, I'm not down with adding to that and lying to her."

"You don't have to," Sara told her, just as Helena asked, "Who's Abercrombie?"

"He's the boyfriend," Sara informed quickly before turning back to Sin. "I'm not asking you to lie to her about who you need the answers for, Sin. You can tell her who's asking – " Helena made a little noise of protest but Sara ignored her – "and why. And...if she agrees to it, then there might be some answers in it for her, too."

"Like what?" Sin asked.

Sara gave her a small smile. "Depends on what she'd like to know."

Her friend didn't seem to appreciate the cryptic turn of her words, but eventually, she nodded. "I'll see what I can do," she agreed.

Sara nodded. "Thank you," she said. "I'll text you the number you can reach me on."

"Okay, cool. See ya around, Blondie."

"Were you out again last night?"

Thea watched as Roy paused in his tracks, his eyes dropping to the crate of vodka he was carrying to storage – which he was doing while trying to avoid running into her.

She marched up to him, planting herself firmly in his line of sight. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" she asked. "Because you don't have to go to all this trouble, you can just ask me to do it."

He clenched his jaw, and she just knew she was about to get treated to another tirade about the Arrow and his mission and how someone had to stand up for the city with him, and how he was a role-model and whatever else not.

"I can't just do nothing, Thea," he told her. "Especially not now after – " He stopped himself short, but she knew what he was going to say.

"Now that my father targeted the Glades again, right?"she asked bitterly.

Roy looked away, moving to let the crate drop onto the bar with a thud before turning back to her. "Yeah," he said bluntly. "And after he kidnapped you and wanted to take you who-knows-where, and I couldn't do anything about it."

She cocked her head to the side. "What, no big speech about how the Arrow tried to stop him and that makes him an example all who can pack half-a-punch should follow?"

Roy's face hardened. "This isn't about him anymore," he said quietly, with an amount of disdain Thea had never heard him speak with before. Not about the precious vigilante, anyway.

"Since when?" she let out.

"Since he left!" Roy snapped. "He's gone, he bailed on this city, but someone has to keep doing what he did!"

Thea felt the sinking in her gut that told her she was about to find out someone else she loved had been lying to her. "How do you know that he left?" she asked quietly.

When Roy's face fell and he looked away again, she had her answer. "You were working with him, weren't you?" she hissed.

"No, I – " Roy sighed. "Not really. He was teaching me, training me, and I was – I was his eyes and ears on the streets."

Unbelievable. "So, all this time, you were his little sidekick?" Thea raised her voice. "Even after you told me you were done with him and everything he did? You were lying to me!"

"No, Thea, I – "

"You what?" she fired back. "I mean, you were the one person I expected to be honest with me, and you just – no, you know what, I can't do this right now." She shook her head. "I'm way too tired of being lied to, and then having people tell me it was to protect me or because they loved me or whatever – 'cause that's what you were going to say, right?" His expression told her she was right on all counts, so she nodded. "That's what I thought."

She turned away, walking until she was exiting the club, and ignoring Roy's calls to wait all the while. She got into her car, slammed the door shut, and just let her head hit the seat; everyone seemed to be under this impression that their lies would protect her when, in fact, she rather thought that it was the lies she needed protecting from.

She flinched when a loud tap came from the passenger side window, only to sigh when Sin's face floated into view. Her friend didn't wait for an invitation before she was letting herself in. "What's wrong?" she asked when she'd made herself comfortable in the passenger's seat.

Thea felt like laughing. Hysterically. "That's a long list," she said, "but right now, what's wrong is that my boyfriend was also lying to me, just like my mother and brother, and has actually been moonlighting as the vigilante's little sidekick for months."

She turned to Sin, only to find that the latter looked rather...guilty.

Thea huffed. "You knew, didn't you?"

"I...kind of did," Sin admitted. "But like, even before you and I hung out and – "

"That really doesn't make it any better."

" – I sort of knew when I led him to my friend so she could beat him up for answers. Speaking of that – "

"Your friend beat him – what?"

"Oh, no, she didn't, she just – okay, look." Sin shifted in her seat, turning to face Thea fully. "This friend of mine, right, she's sort of...into the whole vigilante thing, too. A little."

Thea only raised an eyebrow at her.

"Uh, remember that woman who was beating up creeps in the Glades a while back?" Sin asked next. "Like, before we met?"

There had been a few rumors and reports about a woman going through the Glades and beating up rapists and similar scum that Thea remembered; slowly, she nodded.

"That's my friend."

"You know her? Who is she?"

"I don't...really know."

"You just said you knew her."

"Well, I don't know her, know her – I mean, I don't know like, her full name or anything, I just...know her."

"Right," Thea deadpanned.

More quietly, Sin added, "She saved me from some creeps, too. And we just...spend some time together, I guess, down in the Glades. Anyway – " she cleared her throat – "she's back in town."

"That's...nice."

"And she brought a friend."

"Okay..."

"That friend being the Huntress."

Thea blinked at her friend. "Helena Bertinelli?" she let out. "What sort of people do you hang out with?"

Sin gave her a very pointed look, then said, "I don't actually hang with the Huntress – though that'd be kinda sweet..."

When Thea raised an eyebrow, Sin pressed her lips together and gave a little nod. "Right, so the point is," she went back to her original thread of conversation, "they're both in Starling, and they're...interested, in Merlyn."

Thea huffed. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."

"I don't know what they're after exactly," Sin went on, "but they wanna know why he ran. Apparently, that's important. So, they – "

"Want you to get answers out of me," Thea concluded. "Sorry to disappoint, but I don't actually know why he went up and away, or why he didn't stick around to kill the Arrow, or why he didn't go through with his plan to whisk me away so we could form some sick, twisted, happy family – "

"Whoa, slow down," Sin cut in. "It's not like that – I mean, it is, but..." She sighed. "I'm telling you all of this 'cause I wanna do this whole honesty thing with you. So, here's the deal: you're the last person who saw him, so they think you might know something. And they said there could be some answers in it for you, too."

"What does that mean?"

"I've no idea."

How insightful.

Thea fell quiet, considering her options. Oh, what the hell, she thought. "Okay, I'll tell them exactly what happened with Merlyn," she agreed. "But I wanna do it in person."

"Wait...you wanna meet with them?"

Thea nodded. "Yeah."

Sin let out a low whistle. "Hey, I'd be happy to play the messenger, but this works too. And I gotta say, you've got guts, Queen."

Maybe. But these days, she didn't feel like much of a Queen at all. Her entire life was built on lies, apparently, and the one solitary truth she had now was that she didn't really know who she was anymore.

Felicity stared the at the TV, intent on immersing herself in some quality mindless sitcom, but none of the flickering images really registered and everything that was said only sounded like white noise.

"How's the hand?"

She smiled when Diggle plopped down on the couch next to her, offering her a beer. Taking the bottle with her good hand, she said, "Let me put it this way: you'll have to grab that bowl over there by yourself."

John snorted, leaning in to snatch the bowl of nachos on the coffee table. "It'll heal just fine," he assured. "Give it a little time."

"Too bad I'm not the patient kind," she grumbled, then turned to him with a small smile. "So, how was your day?"

He let out a long-suffering sigh. "I can't believe I'm saying this," he told her, "but I think working for Oliver spoiled me. I'd forgotten how profoundly boring this line of work actually is."

Felicity chuckled. "Entitled rich white boys giving you grief?"

"That too," he said. "But – I don't know. I guess I miss all the...excitement. And after what we did, everything else just...seems less glamorous in comparison."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Felicity agreed quietly. And evidently, John knew her too well not to notice that statement was full of underlying meaning.

"So," he prompted softly, "how was your day?"

Felicity let herself sink into the cushions, resting her cheek against the back of the couch. "You know how I told you Sara came by last night?" she asked and waited for him to nod before adding, "Well, she wasn't just checking up on me – I mean, she was, kind of, but...well, she also said some stuff and..." She sighed. "Now I can't stop thinking about it."

"About what?"

"I was...telling her about how I miss what we used to do, and how I don't want to give it up," Felicity said quietly, picking at the hem of her pajamas, "but how you and I can't make it work without Oliver and his skill-set, so Sara...pointed out, that there are...people who do have said skill-set and are currently here." She bit her lip. "Her and Helena."

Diggle barked a short laugh. "That's funny."

But when Felicity didn't add anything further, he grew still. "Wait, you're not – Felicity, are you seriously considering this?"

"I'm not," she said quickly. "I mean, I am – no, I'm not. Okay, maybe I am." She sighed when John looked so dumbstruck he couldn't even put on any sort of discernible facial expression. "Don't look at me like that, Digg, it's...tempting."

"Really?" he deadpanned. "So, the work we used to do, the kind of team we had – you'd be okay with doing all of that alongside Helena Bertinelli?"

Felicity looked down at her hands. "I don't – I don't know," she whispered. "Sara thinks she's okay, maybe..."

"Maybe what? Maybe she's not a psycho?" Diggle let out. "She killed her own father."

"I know," she said. "So does Sara. She...helped Helena track him down."

It took a moment for that to sink in with Diggle; he only shook his head and blew out a quiet breath. "Just because she's Sara's friend, doesn't mean she's yours too, Felicity," he said.

"I know that, but – okay, I did some digging today, and it took a really long time, since you know, one functional hand – I actually had to use a mouse at one point – but I've found a pattern. Since Frank Bertinelli died, there's been a string of entire local branches of the mob, especially Italian, being taken down, all over the country – actually, not just the country, since I have that nifty trojan that feeds me A.R.G.U.S. intel, and there was this drug cartel bust in Columbia and a Bratva member was taken out in Buenos Aires, and – and I think that was them, Digg. Sara and Helena." She paused for a moment, replenishing her air supply, before she quietly added, "It's what we used to do, too, right? Taking down organized crime when we could?"

John was silent for a while. "Just because a former mob princess has an ax to grind with the mafia," he eventually said, "doesn't make her like us, Felicity. And just because she did it with Sara by her side doesn't mean they're the kind of team we were." He shook his head. "I don't think they do it for the same reasons we did."

"Yeah, but...Oliver wasn't exactly Mr. Noble Intentions when he started out, right?" she pointed out. "When we started out, with him. Nothing is just black-and-white...working with you guys taught me that."

That did earn her a small, and maybe just a wee bit proud, smile from Diggle. He blew out a long, deep breath, then asked, "So, how long have you spent trying to convince yourself this could actually be a good idea?"

Well, he had her there. But on the bright side, she never really had to hide anything from John. "Too long, probably," she admitted.

"Felicity, I'm not going to change my mind about Helena," he said, "but I can't tell you what to think either. Just..." With a sigh, he set the bowl of nachos aside and covered her hand with his. "Be sure this isn't just you trying to get back to what you loved in whichever way you can without thinking it through."

"Wise words," she agreed softly, squeezing his fingers in gratitude. He returned the gesture with a smile and a raise of his beer bottle; Felicity brought her own to clank against it, in toast to the wisdom of John Diggle.

Helena grunted at the sharp sting of wood against her mouth, tasting blood on her tongue as she licked over the spot.

"You take too long between attacking and reverting to defense," Sara chided. "It leaves you vulnerable."

Straightening, Helena ran her thumb over her split lip. "I'll keep that in mind when I come at someone with a stick."

"A bō," Sara corrected.

"It's a long wooden stick," Helena deadpanned.

Sara grinned. "Hey, you're the one who said you wanted me to teach you everything I knew," she reminded. "Maybe you should stop complaining every time we practice."

With long wooden sticks, Helena thought sourly. "Well, I didn't think it'd involve this much of you trying to knock all of my teeth out," she retorted. "I'm better with just my bare hands."

"The bō is an extension of your limbs," Sara said. "It follows all the same rules you already use when you fight. And if you master it, then it will improve your hand-to-hand skills, too."

Helena pursed her lips. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I didn't either, at first. Before it grew on me." Sara told her. "Got half of my teeth knocked out."

Helena cocked her head to the side; there were no gaping holes in the other woman's mouth that she could see. "What, does being in the League come with dental benefits?"

Sara's head tipped from one side to the other. "More like, one of its members is a dentist."

Helena raised an eyebrow. "A dentist assassin?"

With a small shrug, Sara said, "She does wonders with veneers. And knives."

And the infamous League of Assassins kept on being demystified, Helena thought. She gripped the damned woode – the bō, tighter and shifted her stance. "Again?"

Sara complied with a smile. When she charged, Helena deflected, and when Helena dealt her own blows, she took care to revert back to a defensive stance more quickly; Sara smirked when she got better at it.

Helena spun in her spot, aiming the bō at Sara's head; she knew her partner would duck, and try and kick her legs from under her as she crouched. Helena jumped when the wood came sweeping at her shins, intending to land a blow in that split-second of shifting stances Sara had caught her in so many times.

But the Canary, of course, was a master of her craft, and Helena's staff only met wood on its way down. Still, Sara grinned. "You almost had me," she praised.

"Almost," Helena emphasized, preparing to strike again, only to pause when the tower began filling with the sounds of vibration against concrete, and some obnoxious bird song. "Your ringtone is the sound of chirping birds?" she let out.

Sara only threw a quick grin over her shoulder in response, already moving to take the call. Helena gathered it was Sin calling with news – or lack thereof. There wasn't much said on Sara's part during the conversation, only a few words and some humming, but Helena noticed her furrowed brow; evidently, the news were different from what she had expected.

"Okay," Sara said eventually. "I'll call you back."

"So?" Helena prompted once she hung up.

Sara clucked her tongue. "Thea wants to meet with us," she informed. "Talk to us face-to-face."

Well, that was certainly not how Helena had envisioned this going down. "So much for her not wanting to talk to us willingly, I guess," she commented.

"Hmm," Sara agreed absentmindedly, staring down at her phone.

"Something else you'd like to share?"

"No." Sara shook her head. "It's just that...I haven't actually spoken to Thea since she was a kid. She was twelve when Oliver and I boarded the Gambit." She let out a soft chuckle. "Little Speedy."

"Speedy?" Helena echoed dryly.

"Oliver used to call her that all the time," Sara said, sounding a little wistful. Her eyes dropped to the ground as she added, "Tommy did, too."

Ah, Tommy Merlyn. "I broke his wrist once."

Sara raised an eyebrow; Helena shrugged. "Oliver wasn't being cooperative."

Pursing her lips, Sara said, "Well, just refrain from breaking anyone's bones if Thea isn't cooperative either."

"Don't worry, I'm reformed now," Helena waved her concerns off. "Partially, anyway."

Sara only shook her head.