Pre-Author's Note: Regarding Quentin's behavior last chapter, for those of you who asked about it - think of it from his perspective. His eldest commits suicide and the deciding factor is his youngest (who already betrayed his eldest once before) showing up with her new boyfriend, said eldest's ex, and rubbing the new relationship in her face during their first family dinner in six years. When said ex is the reason their family fell apart in the first place. And then said ex goes ahead and says the words that drive the eldest over the edge.

Yeah. There's a limit to how much 'scapegoat/trophy child' can handle, and that was it. When you combine that with him being drunk, it's no wonder he ended up lashing out at Sara.

Move

She ended up moving to Gotham.

Some might call her crazy for that decision, but to Laurel, it made the most sense. It was on the other side of the country, making it unlikely for anyone to recognize her; the rent was cheap, which was a balm for her depleting savings; and it was easy to find work, because people were always eager to leave thanks to the insane crime rate. Something Laurel might've considered herself, if it weren't for the secret weapon in her throat that was guaranteed to take out any criminal that might come her way.

It didn't take her long to find an apartment she liked, even if it was in one of the seedier parts of town. There was a job opening at the local legal aid office for a legal librarian, at the surprisingly generous salary of $90,000 — apparently a standard for all charity ventures backed by the Wayne Foundation. It was a bit different from her previous job as an attorney, but Laurel found her groove easily enough, and before she knew it, she was completely settled in.

Being the new girl in town, she didn't have any friends and wasn't eager to get close to anyone just yet. Instead, she found a local gym called Wildcat's that was offering one-on-one boxing classes for a relative pittance and signed up. A decision she almost regretted when the owner and instructor, a graying, middle-aged man with crow's feet around his eyes, recognized her.

"You're Laurel Lance, aren't you?"

Laurel stiffened and pursed her lips. "You've heard of me?" That wasn't good. She came to Gotham because she was hoping no one would've heard of her.

The owner, one Ted Grant, held up his hands defensively. "I've got a son that lives in Starling," was his explanation. "Owns a gym there, just like this one."

Ah. That made sense. "Is that going to be a problem?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Nope. If you want to learn, then I'm willing to teach you." His gaze softened a bit. "I'm guessing there's a lot you need to work out, huh?"

"Yeah," Laurel said, her mind flashing to the events of the past seven years. "There is."

Memento

When deciding what she wanted to bring with her to Gotham, Laurel had two main criteria: utility, and sentimentality. The first was the most important, because unlike the Queens, she wasn't made of an unlimited amount of money. If she could use it and not to have to buy a replacement, she would, and not give a damn about where it came from. She didn't have that luxury.

The exceptions to that were, of course, stuff that came from Ollie. Or involved Oliver Queen in any way. With the exception of old childhood photos from before they were dating, pictures of Thea and them (where she could just fold Ollie out if need be) and anything involving school (like their high school graduation), she got rid of it all. The jewelry like the Tiffany ring and the diamond necklace she sold for extra cash, since she needed as much as she could get with a huge move like this. But everything else — pictures of their relationship, small little gifts like that sweater from a movie date that was almost a lifetime ago, and that stupid letter he left behind for her mere months ago, along with the picture that came with it — she packed up in a box. Thanks to Thea she was able to get Mr. Diggle's number, and when he arrived she handed the box over to him to take back to Oliver.

"My way of saying goodbye," was her explanation. To his credit, John barely reacted, instead giving her an understanding nod.

When he was gone, all Laurel could feel was relief. It was like the breaking of another chain, another step towards freedom. Except for those few traces of her childhood, the pure wholesome memories she couldn't find it in herself to throw away, Ollie was completely gone from her life, as if he had never been a part of it to begin with. A more bitter, resentful part of herself couldn't help but wonder how much happier she would've been if that had truly been the case.

Gotham

The thing was, Gotham was a dangerous city.

Laurel had known that when she first moved there. There was a reason why the rent was so cheap and everyone walked the streets with some kind of weapon concealed on their sides and a million different antidotes in their bags. Why they never traveled alone at night and why holidays were rarely ever celebrated outside.

But it didn't really hit her until her first supervillain attack. One of the more low-key villains, a man calling himself Condiment King, tried to hold up Gotham City National Bank while she was there trying to check in on her account. She had been in the midst of speaking with the teller about issuing new checks to accommodate for her new address when the man barged in and started squirting condiments at everyone.

She had been confused at first, especially at the collective groan from the other customers. There were jeers for 'Condiment King' and the guards had walked over to restrain him, and then that's when another one, a woman called Firefly, burst through the windows and started torching everyone she could see. Screams were heard as people hit the deck, and Laurel, startled, could only follow their lead, hiding beneath the counter.

"Burn, burn, burn," Firefly spoke, her voice holding a certain crazed tilt that reminded Laurel of Barton Mathis and Cyrus Vanch, something she did not like at all. Figured she'd attract more of the crazies.

"Oh, crazy am I?"

Laurel bit back a curse. Had she spoken aloud?

She didn't get a chance to lament her loose lips before the barrel of the flamethrower was shoved into her face. "Get up," the supervillain ordered, and God, how was this Laurel's life?

Grabbing the edge of the counter, Laurel pulled herself up, keeping her hands up in a defensive manner. "Look, I don't want any trouble," she said.

Firefly laughed. "You're new to Gotham, aren't you?" the other woman asked mockingly. "See, around here, we don't care if you want trouble or not. You're not the target — you're just bait."

"Bait?" Laurel repeated, blinking. "Bait for who?"

The answer came in the form of the skylight shattering into glass pieces above them. A man descended from above and landed on the ground, sweeping out Firefly's feet before she could even pull the trigger and torch Laurel to the crisp. Laurel could only blink, even as her savior — wearing a Bat-suit of all things — pinned Firefly down and restrained her, kicking the flamethrower away.

Once he was done, he gave her a nod and then ran off. When he was gone, the other customers began to climb out of their hiding places, while Laurel dropped her hands, now feeling like an idiot. "Who was that?" she asked, not really asking anyone in particular.

"Batman," someone answered.

Batman

The Urban Legend of Gotham, as it turned out, was real.

Her dad had told her stories about him when she was kid. The boogeyman of the GCPD, a fable they used to scare criminals straight. That was the reputation of Batman outside of Gotham — but for those who lived within, he was no mere fable. He was a fact of life.

The EMT treating her told as her much before giving her the address to a local website to look up information about him and his 'rogues gallery'. It didn't make Laurel feel like she was in a comic book any less, but then that was her life ever since Ollie came back from that godforsaken island. She had a bazooka in her throat to prove it.

For the next couple of the days, she spent her free time researching everything she could about Batman and his associated rogues gallery. As it turned out, he wasn't the only vigilante in town — he had a sidekick named Robin, who many suspect had a "Dread Pirate Roberts" thing going on. Rumor had it that Nightwing, a vigilante that made his home in Bludhaven back in the west, was the original and that the current Robin was the second one. There had also been a female vigilante unoriginally named Batgirl, but she disappeared a few years back.

The next time she had a training session with Ted, she brought up what happened, and he could only sigh in response. "So you had your first supervillain attack," he mused, lounging against the ropes while taking a drink for his bottle.

Laurel crossed her arms. "You could've warned me," she pointed out, trying not to sound too snippy.

Ted shrugged. "Would you have believed me if I told you?"

"I would have, actually," she replied, mind involuntarily flashing back to the worst day of her life. "I've seen some stuff that are… well, they're pretty out of this world."

Her mentor gave her a curious eye, but didn't press. Instead he let her do an impromptu Q&A, answering all her questions to the best of his ability — the most noticeable villains in the city, what she needed to do to prepare for their attacks (now she knew why that antidote kit Ted told her to carry around had all those weird names), the vigilantes and their habits…

"Do you know what happened to Batgirl?"

That particular question caused the former boxer to falter. "There are rumors…" Ted sighed and looked away.

"That she died?" Laurel asked, swallowing.

"Yeah. But I don't think she did. I think she just retired."

"What makes you think that?"

The man smirked. "Trade secret," he responded cheekily.

Barbara

The next time Laurel visited the gym, Ted was talking to a young, bespectacled redhead in a wheelchair. She turned around at the sound of the door opening, and blinked. "Dinah Laurel Lance, is that you?"

Laurel blinked back. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

"Yeah. I'm Barbara. Barbara Gordon?" she explained, and Laurel's face lit up in realization. "My father was your father's mentor during his time in the police academy down in Starling?"

"Right, I remember you!" A genuine smile spread across her face. "You visited our house a few times when we were kids, up until you and your dad moved back to Gotham."

Barbara nodded, then glanced at a surprised Ted. "You know my dad used to be a marine, right? Well, after he was discharged from the Navy, our family settled down temporarily in Starling. Dad attended the police academy and worked for the SCPD for a bit, mentoring new recruits up until mom got a job offer in Gotham requiring us to move. Her dad, Quentin Lance, was one of his students."

"I guess you played together a lot as kids?" Ted asked, smiling.

The two women exchanged smiles. "All the time," Laurel proclaimed.

Laurel's training session that day had an extra participant. Barbara, as it turned out, was a former student of Grant's who occasionally visited to keep her skills sharp. "Might no longer have my legs, but still got my arms," she said, doing a pose for punctuation.

"Right," the other woman replied, rubbing the back of her head. "This might sound rude, but…"

"…what happened to land me in this wheelchair?" Barbara finished for her. She didn't look or sound particularly offended. "Well, my dad's the Commissioner for the GCPD, which means a lot of enemies. One of the psychos that take up residence in this city visited our house for a lark and shot me in the stomach to spite him. I survived, but the bullet permanently damaged my spine."

The entire story sounded familiar, and Laurel found herself sympathizing with her old childhood friend. "I know what that's like," the Gotham newcomer echoed back. "A few months back, when I was living in Starling, this serial killer my dad caught escaped from prison and captured me, tried to kill me in front of him. If it hadn't been for the local vigilante, I would've died." Even thinking about those memories made her shudder. The experience was so traumatic, she still had the occasional nightmare.

"Using women to hurt the men that love them," Barbara mused, crossing her arms. "A tale as old as time."

Ain't that the truth. "You know what they say: hating women is the oldest past time of men."

"And some men are just too self-absorbed to figure out a better one," the redhead added, and the two newly-reunited childhood friends shared a commiserating look.

Training

It's nice having a friend again. Well, a friend that lived in the same city with her — Thea and Joanna still kept in touch, after all. Laurel had been feeling so lonely, missing someone who just wanted to do stuff with her, and Barbara more than fit the bill. She couldn't really do any late night stuff because of something with her job, but she was always up for the occasional weekend out.

Barbara was the one to suggest that Laurel start branching out a bit in her martial arts lessons, learning other styles besides boxing. Martial arts was pretty popular in Gotham thanks to the wealth of criminals that required the common citizens some knowledge on how to defend themselves, so finding a few dojos to train at was easy enough, especially at such cheap rates.

A month later, Laurel thought it to be sound advice. Originally she had taken up boxing to find some way to work out all the anger and conflicted feelings that had been welling up inside her for the past seven years. A physical outlet. But eventually she had come to enjoy it, and enjoy all the other lessons she was taking. She felt alive, more alive than she ever had since the Gambit first went down all those years ago.

"How'd you know?" she asked Barbara one day, while they were getting ice cream at a nearby parlor.

"Because I was where you used to be," Barbara answered. "Frustrated, angry at the world, drowning inside at everything that happened to me. It took me a while to find something to make me feel alive again, and I knew that's what you needed too. And when I saw how much you enjoyed learning with Ted, I thought maybe this could be it. Glad to see I was right."

Laurel smiled, and reached over to place a hand over the other woman's. "You're a good friend, Babs."

Robin

When Laurel saw those two goons dragging away the beaten body of Robin while she was out on a late night snack run, she knew she was about to lose whatever she had left of a normal life. Robin couldn't be older than eighteen or nineteen, and either way didn't deserve this. He spent his nights saving lives, which was more that could be said for the men currently dragging him away.

"Hey, you!"

They turned around. Laurel opened her mouth, and screamed.

Like always, the booming waves escaped her mouth like some kind of beam. She had been practicing her ability in secret ever since arriving in Gotham, sneaking out at night to find abandoned buildings and other places on the outskirts of the city where she didn't have to worry about hurting anyone. So far she had managed to dial it down so she didn't outright kill people with the first hit, which was why she was confident using it tonight.

The men holding Robin hostage were sent reeling, flying through the air and crashing into the other side of the alley. Once they were down, Laurel quickly checked them over to make sure they were knocked out, before calling the police to make sure they were arrested. After the call, she went ahead and checked in on Robin.

He was out too, and there was no way she could leave him like this. Not for the police, and certainly not for any enterprising criminals that might still be wandering about. So with a sigh, Laurel carefully picked him up bridal style and headed to her car, silently thanking God for all the working out she had been doing lately. Robin was a touch heavier than he looked.

Once they were inside her apartment (which, being where it was in Gotham, had no security cameras stationed anywhere), Laurel set down Robin on her couch and got out her first aid kit. As a teenager her father had enrolled her into first aid training, and had drilled it into her to always attend a refresher course every year so her skills wouldn't get lax. Something she stuck with even through the aftermath of the Gambit.

She treated his cuts first, cleaning them and bandaging them, before moving to his bruises. She was just in the midst of applying some ointment to the one on his cheek when a slow moan escaped the young man. "Wha…?"

"Don't speak," Laurel told him. "Rest. You're injured."

"Who…?" He coughed weakly. His caretaker slowly guided him down, propping up the pillow behind his head so he could be more comfortable.

"My name is Laurel. Laurel Lance. I rescued from those two guys that were carrying you away and brought you to my apartment to treat you." She cracked a grin. "I figured you wouldn't want the hospital. Can't keep a secret identity there, can you?"

Robin actually chuckled at that. "…thanks."

"Think nothing of it."

Laurel finished the treatment. When she was done, Robin was already fast asleep. She smiled down at him, then turned off the lights of the living room before heading to bed.

When she woke up the next morning, she wasn't surprised to see he was already gone.

And so, Laurel starts her new life in Gotham, and slowly becomes absorbed into the Bat-Family's web.

Those of you who read Ray_Writes' stories might see the easter eggs sprinkled in Memento, referring to his awesome one-shot These Foolish Things. Highly recommended, to the point that I created a TV Tropes page for it! For those of you reading this on FFN, the story is on AO3.

The headcanon about Barbara and Laurel being childhood friends is from ArlyssTolero. His version has it because the Lances originally lived in Gotham and moved to Starling when Laurel was eight and Sara was six. Here, I had it the other way around, where the Gordons lived in Starling for a bit before moving to Gotham.

Firefly is a woman because I opted to use the Gotham version, since Garfield Lynns was a thing in S1. Please note that the plan is to eventually go full AU post-S2, so not everything in the Arrowverse will be a thing, which is why there's a DCAU tag on AO3 and why this is a crossover on FFN.