Disclaimer: Yeah, no, not mine.
It's been long awaited for, since basically the moment I started the first fic. You've been waiting for it, I've been waiting to write it, and now it's here.
You know it, you love it, it's time for THE CANARY CRY!
Also, unrelatedly: It's the Age of Superheroes series Drinking Game! Take a shot everytime someone compares their life to a comic book! Take an extra shot if it's Sara, and a third shot if it's Sara believing something because of everything else insane that's happened. If you still have functioning a liver by the time I'm done with the series, I'll be amazed :p
Once again, many thanks for the people in the Lauriver Discord server, their help when I'm unsure on a plot point, or need a second pair of eyes on a passage, sounding boards for ideas, and endless inspiration.
The Siege of Starling City
By Kylia
Chapter 11: Cry Canary Cry
"My critics call this class warfare, and to that I say: if it's class warfare to ask why the richest people in this city are allowed to have two tracks of justice, then I am a class warrior. If it's class warfare to ask why the poorest people in this city are reduced to such low priorities for the city's government that they have to rely on vigilantes to deliver them even a sliver of justice, then I am a class warrior. If it's class warfare to ask for the elites that dominate this city to give even the tiniest morsel to you, the people who make this city work, then I am a class warrior. So, I ask you this, people of Starling City:
Are you class warriors!?"
-Excerpt from a speech at a Campaign Rally by Sebastian Blood February 16th, 2014
Central City Memorial Hospital, Central City
December 4th, 2013
I feel fine, Mom. Laurel could imagine she was going to get very sick of the sound of dry erase markers writing if she didn't recover use of her voice quickly. She kept writing, At the very least, I want to get out of this hospital gown. Laurel started erasing the board once she was sure her mother had read it.
She did feel fine. A bit of dull pain at the back of her head, bruising across her back - nothing she hadn't dealt with god knew how many times before - and then there was the fact that she couldn't talk.
Which was new. But the doctors assured her there was no reason to believe it was permanent.
"Laurel, you've lost your voice, and you were thrown clear against a building by the blast, humor me, please, and stay in observation for another night?" Her mother pleaded.
The hospital is overcrowded as it is, Laurel paused to erase that, then, I just want to sleep in my own bed. Waking up in an unfamiliar bed, a place she hadn't remembered choosing to go to sleep at had nearly had her attacking the nurse checking on her. She'd managed to hold back, at the last minute, just giving the woman a start as she'd woken up and lurched up, rather than lunging at her.
And then they'd both found out she couldn't talk.
Her mother frowned a moment, no doubt wanting to suggest she stay longer in Central. That had been the plan, and of course, Laurel had been away from home for a few days after the argument and then -
But it wasn't as if staying in Central was really the calming thing to do right now. From what the news was saying, the city was a madhouse.
"Oliver is on his way here with your father, they should be here any minute. Apparently SCPD can't spare both him and your sister, so Sara's staying back in Starling," Her mother grimaced. "Just... I - I know why you want to go back, but are you sure you can't stay in Central for a few more days?"
Yes. And then rather than write anything else, she pointed to the muted TV, still broadcasting the live CNN coverage of the ongoing situation in Central City. Then she added, You should come to Starling with us. Erase once her mother had read it and was about to respond. It's not like classes aren't canceled at CCU right now anyway.
"Well, that and it's exams now, and I don't actually need to be there for that..." She let her voice trail off, sounding like she was coming around to the idea. "I'd have to get a hotel room-" she started, then stopped talking when Laurel started writing again.
We have a guest room, Mom. There were reasons - very good reasons - not to have her mother in the guest room at the penthouse, but... Laurel also wanted to have her around. Yes, she'd gotten into an argument with her mom and let her anger keep her away for a few days, but she was still her mother, and with her living in Central, and so many obligations keeping Laurel busy in Starling...
She didn't get to see her mother enough.
It will make things harder for a few days, and especially with the Mirakuru... But -
A few days wouldn't ruin everything, right?
"Laurel!" Laurel heard the sound of her father's voice from the doorway, and looked up just in time for him to nearly tackle her, pulling her into a tight hug, which Laurel returned, slowly. "You're alright. Oh thank god, when your mother called, she couldn't reach you and then - the explosion and she called again and -" He pulled back as he realized she wasn't saying anything. "Laurel?"
"She's lost her voice, Quentin," Her mother explained gently.
The doctors say there's nothing medically wrong with my vocal cords but strain. Wait. Erase. They think it's mostly psychosomatic.
"And now I'm reminded why you always won at family scrabble nights." Quentin managed a small laugh, an attempt to inject humor. Laurel smiled faintly at the comment, then he took a breath. "Are you - are you sure you're alright? I - the city's a madhouse out there."
I'm fine. I promise. Pause. Erase. Where's Ollie?
"We ran into a bunch of fuc-" He cleared his throat, "A bunch of reporters in the lobby. Vultures, the whole lot of them. Apparently they heard you were up here, and when they saw Oliver and me... they swarmed us. Oliver and that bodyguard of his played interference so I could get up here. He should be up here soon-"
"I think the reporters have decided you're three floors up from this one," Oliver said from the door. He didn't run across the distance to her side, but she could tell he wanted to. He approached and then pulled her in for a hug, holding her tight, kissing her lips gently, leaning down as their foreheads touched. "I - I - I'm- you're okay."
Laurel nodded, closing her eyes, feeling her heart rate drop, tension she hadn't even realized she'd been holding slipping away now that her other half - literally, really - was so close again. She swallowed, kissing him again, before gently pushing him away so she could write on the board again. Quickly, with her mother's help and her own writing, she explained - again - the situation with her voice.
The doctors think that as long as I get plenty of fluids and don't strain my vocal cords or anything, my voice should recover entirely in the next few days.
"But you're okay otherwise?" Oliver pressed. "That's the important thing. Sara's been texting like mad, she's been losing her mind since she can't come. Speaking of," He reached into his pocket and handed her a phone. "New phone, with all the apps you like." Properly secured and encrypted, in other words. The burner she'd been using when she'd been hit by that... wave from the particle accelerator explosion had been fried in the blast or whatever it was.
I'm fine. I'll text Sara. Pause. Erase. Mom, Dad, can I have a moment with Ollie?
"Right." Her father nodded, then looked over at her mother. "We'll - we'll go talk to the doctors about getting you released." Her mother hesitated a moment longer, then nodded, leaving the room with her dad.
What happened in Starling? Mirakuru!? You said someone made more?
Oliver spoke quietly in Russian, quickly, though Laurel had already confirmed there were no cameras or listening devices in the room. "Someone - they had a soldier, Cyrus Gold. He was... it was like fighting Slade, but at least Gold wasn't a trained killer, not in the same way. The murders at the Applied Sciences building - they were stealing a centrifuge. And then they stole blood, and ketamine."
Laurel could add the pieces together without Oliver needing to say it. She knew the serum better than Oliver, she'd sat through Ivo's countless lectures and rants on it, that first year on the boat. Every moment burned in her memory. She felt her breath catch a moment, and she reached over, grabbing Oliver's hand, squeezing it, forcing herself to take another breath, trying to center herself.
"It was just one. He's dead. And I destroyed the centrifuge." Oliver reassured her. "There's more - whoever was behind it will try again. But... we have time." He grabbed the chair and pulled it over to rest by the bed, not not letting go of her hand, running his thumb across the back. Laurel closed her eyes for a moment, taking another breath.
She'd faced many opponents during those five years, especially once she joined the League. None had terrified her the way Slade had. People she'd sparred against in the League had been more dangerous combatants - Al Owal, Nyssa. She'd never actually sparred against Ra's al Ghul, but she'd seen him fight. He was a more skilled fighter than Slade, but Slade...
Slade had been something else. The strength, the speed -
A thought rose, unbidden to the top of her mind, and despite everything, she laughed, or at least tried to, no sound actually escaping her lips.
"Laurel?" Oliver asked, and Laurel regretfully pulled her hand away, quickly writing.
I just imagined - Ra's Al Ghul fighting Slade. And imagining Ra's losing. It was a satisfying mental image, the Demon's Head smashed into paste on the ground. She took a breath, closing her eyes and banishing that happy thought. As important as it was to understand everything about what had happened in Starling, and who could be behind this new Mirakuru...
She needed to tell Oliver about Samantha, and her son. His son.
The reason Mom and I fought and I left the house. She erased it to write more, and Oliver raised a hand.
"We can talk about it later." Oliver assured her, voice soft, but Laurel shook her head. It was a lot to drop on Oliver, especially now, but it was important, and she wasn't going to keep it secret.
No. This is important. I ran into Samantha. Clayton.
Oliver flushed, looking away. Laurel reached out and gently turned his face back towards her, and the whiteboard.
I ran into Samantha Clayton...and her son, William. She said he was five, but - he looked closer to seven.
"Sev-" Oliver's breath caught, and he snapped his mouth shut, staring at her, processing for a long moment, staring. She could almost imagine his brain rebooting as she told him he was in fact a father. As a teenager, she'd once imagined what it would be like to tell Ollie that, and to be honest, she'd imagined a very similar expression on his face.
It wasn't as if marriage and kids with Ollie had been her only ambition in life, but it had been something she'd wanted. Still wanted, even if... Well, there were a lot of reasons children especially were a bad idea, right now.
"You mean- you think-"
I can't imagine any reason she'd lie about his age - and she was lying - if he wasn't yours. On some level, she couldn't blame Samantha for lying about losing the baby. Oh, she was upset with her former roommate for sleeping with her boyfriend, or had been, for a brief while, once told. But she'd been more upset with Ollie, even if she forgave him by then, given everything that had happened, by the time he told her...
But while she could understand why Samantha would want to lie, she didn't forgive her for it. Yes, the fear of tabloids, the fact that Oliver had cheated with her, the fact that rich or not, Oliver back then... he wasn't exactly well positioned to be a good father. She believed firmly he would have straightened out his life very quickly if he had found himself a father then, in reality, but... well, she couldn't blame Samantha for not thinking that much.
But Oliver still deserved to know. Still deserved the choice.
I'm not - I don't think Oliver should just be able to... sue for custody, get half time with him. It wasn't like either of them were in any position to have a seven year old boy in their lives, living with them. But Oliver could visit, get to know his son, let his son get to know him...
He's had a good life already, he doesn't need to have it uprooted... That had been her mother's argument. That, and she'd been worried that Oliver might leave her for Samantha, or something. The idea was of course laughable. The argument had been made worse by the fact that mentioning William had required detailing the whole 'Oliver cheated on me with my roommate' thing. Which had even made her mother - very briefly - seem confused Laurel had ever forgiven him in the first place. Laurel had shut down that line of conversation very quickly. Her mother just... didn't understand. Couldn't.
"I... I have..." Oliver trailed off, unable to find the words. Laurel took and squeezed his hand again, and he returned the gesture, taking a breath. "She lied... she lied about losing... why would she..." he grimaced. "No. I can understand why she would have lied. I -"
Mom thought I shouldn't tell you. That - that's what we argued about.
"Which means she knows about..." Oliver flushed. "Laurel, you know-"
You don't need to apologize again, Ollie. And Mom can think what she wants. Erase. If she tells Dad, he can think what he wants. Erase it all, since there wasn't enough room on the board for more. You've more than made up for your mistakes.
"Still... you shouldn't have to stand between your parents and me if -" Oliver looked down. "If your father decides he wants to hit me for it, I'll give him a free shot. One."
Laurel smiled, laughing a little soundlessly. I suppose that's fair. Then she frowned. Her mom might already be telling her Dad, or soon, and really, it was probably going to come up with him soon anyway, but there was Sara. If both her parents were going to know... If Mom does tell Dad, we should tell Sara too. It was Oliver's story to share, more than hers, but this was a pretty big thing to keep under wraps, and it wouldn't stay that way forever.
Oliver stiffened, then grimaced, "She might just decide to out me as the Arrow and arrest me at that point," he smiled as he said it, but obviously he was a bit concerned about Sara's reaction. "They're going to have trouble understanding why you forgave me. Even Sara."
At some point, understanding doesn't matter. They just have to accept it. Laurel countered. She understood it, but it wasn't like parental disapproval of her relationship with Oliver was new, and Sara understood enough. And as for what even she didn't understand... Well, it didn't really matter. Oliver was more than just her soulmate, and ultimately the only person who had an opinion on the subject that mattered to her felt the same way about her as she did him.
"I love you," Oliver murmured, pulling her in for another tight hug, kissing her forehead. "I'd say I don't deserve you, but I know how you feel about that."
Damn right you do. Laurel glared at him. She knew he wasn't really meaning it, not the way that he might have once. She'd had to beat it into his stubborn, often self-loathing skull enough, that 'worthy' wasn't really a thing, that no one 'deserved' anyone else, that love and relationships didn't work like that.
And it had eventually taken. So he didn't really mean it that way, anymore. Which was good. But still. She glared, just a little.
Oliver and Laurel's Apartment, Starling City
December 5th, 2013
"I've fought professional killers that punched with less force than your dad," Oliver muttered, rubbing his jaw. The punch had come pretty much the moment they'd walked back into the apartment, Laurel's parents in tow, once they were somewhere private where they could have it out.
That was an hour ago, and now it was just past midnight, and Oliver's jaw still hurt. Just a little, but still. He hadn't fully braced himself as he might in the field, to avoid any suspicion, but...
Even after I told him I wouldn't let him hit you again, I was sure he'd try. Laurel wrote. Her voice still wasn't working, which was annoying to both of them, but - they'd have to live with it. It would make field work harder, but there were ways to cope with it. Text to speech devices, though that wouldn't be the most practical. He could tell it was especially bothering Laurel.
Defending him to her father had required Laurel to write a lot, and fast, which had necessitated them moving to paper and pen, so she could just tear off a sheet from a legal pad and keep going, rather than erasing. Even without being able to talk, Laurel was passionate and incredibly persuasive when she argued, and she'd at least convinced her father that trying to talk her into breaking up with Oliver over his mistake eight years ago was a non-starter.
Once Quentin had gotten that - though he clearly needed more time to internalize it - he'd actually given Oliver some advice, good advice even.
'If you're even a quarter of the man my daughter insists you are, you'll be there for this kid, once you've gotten it all worked out with his mother. But - go gentle. This kid doesn't know you, and he's not gonna handle having a new father in his life all of a sudden all that easy, at least if his mom's any good. Take it slow, and listen to the kid, about who he is, what he's like, what he likes. I've seen too many criminals come out, ready to stay on the straight and narrow for the kid they didn't get to see grow up, and then find out the kid wasn't what they expected, or wasn't ready to embrace someone they didn't know the way they wanted. Some of them?' He'd shrugged. 'Well, they're in prison again.'
'Not the same thing here, with you, but just - be careful. And don't tell the kid he was a mistake.' He'd added.
It was good advice, and he was surprised Laurel's father had given it, but Oliver supposed maybe he'd grown on the older man that much. Or at least he didn't want to see an innocent kid hurt in all this.
"I'm sure he wanted to. I'm surprised your mom didn't have any choice words for me." Laurel's mother was in the guest room, on the other side of the apartment, but they weren't speaking very loudly, and the walls here were good anyway. Oliver agreed with Laurel it was inconvenient, and it would make their other work harder, but he also agreed that Laurel should have the chance to spend the time with her mom.
I think she already figured out arguing with me about this wasn't going to work already. Laurel pointed out, shrugging as Oliver read it. And you do know my Mom. She's not not the most confrontational of people. Which was also true. She could be stern, as a teacher, when she'd taught at Balloi Prep, but before the Gambit, when he'd been at Laurel's place, or whatever, Laurel's mom hadn't been one for yelling at people, most of the time. More passive-aggressive.
Dinah - then Lance - had definitely been more accepting of Laurel and him dating, when they were younger, but he'd definitely felt like she was judging him a few times. Not that he hadn't merited some of that, but the passive-aggression almost had been worse than her father's much more overt disapproval.
And... Mom's always been more of a romantic than dad. Laurel paused, clearly thinking for the right words. Or at least the... following your heart. I love you, and she accepts that whatever she thinks about it, I forgave you years ago. As far as Laurel's parents knew, Oliver had told her all about Samantha, and the cheating, and the pregnancy and the 'miscarriage' in the earlier times on the Island. In truth, it hadn't been until after their reunion in Russia. That time together, that second year on the island - there'd never been a moment for them to have a conversation like that.
Oliver was about to say something when his phone buzzed with a text. He picked it up. Sara was finally off-shift and she was on her way here. Oliver showed Laurel the text. He sat down on the bed next to her. "We should probably just bite the bullet and tell her." Then something occurred to him, something he'd made a note about needing to tell Laurel, once he'd gotten in touch with her again...
And then of course she'd called, and then the particle accelerator explosion, and it had been driven out of his mind entirely.
"There is something else. In all the - I think... I think it might be time to bring Roy in more. Or cut him loose." Oliver held up a hand. "It's still your call, we agreed on that, but... much as I hate to admit it... I'm not sure cutting him loose is a good idea, and... he's earned the chance to have the choice, I think." Oliver was grimacing as he said that. It wasn't an issue with Roy at all. He'd been impressed by the young man's tenacity, drive and his courage in standing up to him - to the Arrow - and then pursuing leads on his own. And of course, he'd proven to be a good boyfriend for Thea, even to Oliver's rather high standards for anyone who should be allowed to date Thea.
Of course, it was Thea that was the problem. He didn't want Thea anywhere near this. She had her whole life ahead of her, a chance for a real, normal life. Hopefully one that involved her going to college next year, and doing better than he had, but that was something he'd not quite managed to convince her of the necessity of yet.
But if Roy was brought into things more fully, even if they kept their identities secret, he'd have to keep that secret from Thea. And Thea deserved better than to have a boyfriend who was keeping secrets from her. Even secrets for her own good.
What brought this on?
Oliver explained. How Sin's friend had gone missing, Sin had tried to reach out to the Black Canary, but she was of course out of town, so Sin had gone to Roy, but Roy couldn't make contact, and so then they'd done their own searching, and then he'd tried to reach her again, only to get his 'second favorite' vigilante.
Laurel had smiled at that part, laughing just a little - silently. For what it's worth, I do think Roy actually does like the Arrow. He just likes the Black Canary more.
"Well, I can't actually disagree with him, seeing as I like the Black Canary better too," Oliver murmured, smirking. Laurel rolled her eyes a little at that, and then Oliver grimaced again, going on: "But - that wasn't the end of it. With the tip Roy gave, we were able to track the front that whoever was behind the Mirakuru was using." He told her about the Langford Institute, how Sara had talked to Blood about the blood drive, and gotten their name. Oliver had gone there, found the centrifuge, Cyrus Gold, and the man in the mask.
And Roy.
"I arrived just in time to stop them from injecting him, but... the fact that he refused to back down. Maybe you could have talked him down, but he's clearly tired of staying on the sidelines, and... he's dedicated. I know I worried about how much he actually cared about the cause, but... you were right and I was wrong."
Well, the Black Canary will have to talk to him. And there's Thea to consider. You've made the point about him keeping secrets from her not being good.
Laurel paused, then added, We can work it out later. It's... we do have a lot to deal with.
"True." Oliver inhaled, then exhaled. "For Sara..." he trailed off, not sure what to say. "She'll probably be more willing to let you explain without interruption, but... maybe you should prepare some writing ahead of time?"
Laurel cocked her head to one side, then nodded. Not a bad idea. She started writing, and Oliver stood, pacing, trying to figure out the best way to broach this whole thing with Sara. And if Sara would ever forgive him.
With Tommy still keeping his distance, Oliver's actual circle of friends was small, and Sara was a big part of it. They'd been friends for a long time, anyway, so...
And then Oliver blinked as something else he hadn't thought of until just now occurred to him.
Mom. And Thea. Oliver had no plans to try to sue for shared custody. For one, the media circus. Laurel didn't deserve that, Sam didn't deserve that, and William didn't deserve that. Besides, right now, with the mission and -
He was in no position to have any custody. Nor did he want to uproot William from his home, his friends...
But Oliver was going to be part of William's life, or... he was going to try very hard to convince Samantha of that. And maybe eventually he'd be able to be at a point where William could... visit? Or something?
And that meant that even if he tried to hide it from them, they were going to find out, sooner or later.
Mom already knows about... knows that I got Sam pregnant. But she still thought that the baby was lost. So the only real issue there was if his mother would try to encourage him to have nothing to do with William, for the sake of appearances. I think she'd be fine with me... trying to set up some sort of college fund, or more, for him, but...
As for Thea... well, after the revelations about their father, how often he'd cheated on their mother, he didn't want to...
Thea didn't know. About the times he'd cheated on Laurel - Sam being the worst, of course, but not the only, unfortunately. Well, maybe she knew - some of them had been more noticed by paparazzi than others. But those, while bad, weren't the same as the far more deliberate decision he'd made with Sam.
He didn't want Thea to be disappointed in him. But there wasn't much choice. Sooner or later, he'd have to tell them both, about William.
The sound of Sara knocking at the door, calling out, drew Oliver's attention, and with a nod to Laurel, he went out to the door to get it, seeing Laurel's mother coming out of the kitchen, a cup of coffee in hand. He supposed he wasn't surprised she hadn't tried to go to sleep yet. Oliver opened the front door.
"God, Oliver, I'm so - I tried to get off shift sooner, but the's been near riots in the streets for the last sixteen hours, after someone leaked that Star Labs has a storage facility in town, and there was an attempt to actually lynch someone who worked at Star Labs, and people are trying to storm the storage facility which has god knows what kind of crazy science shit inside it, and City Hall wants the Storage facility emptied but of course it's not like there's anyone at Star Labs who can oversee removing that shit safely since the whole place blew up and half the employees are in the hospital, so we've been trying to get the crowd to disperse and -" Sara paused for breath, finally, and Oliver held up a hand.
"It's alright. We only got back here an hour ago. Laurel's in our room." He stepped aside to let Sara fully into the apartment, closing the door behind her. Sara glanced past him and saw her mother, the cup of coffee in hand.
"Mom?"
"Since classes at Central City University are canceled right now, and - your sister's trip got abridged, especially after she left after..." Sara's mom trailed off, then shook her head. "Laurel and Oliver invited me to come over for a few days."
Sara nodded, shooting Oliver a look that said 'you couldn't have warned me?'. Then she took a breath. "I suppose you both had a lot of other things to -" she trailed off, then walked over to her Mom.
"It is nice to see you, Mom." She said softly, and hugged her for a moment - Dinah returned the hug, one armed - and then pulled back. "I just - I just want to check on Laurel, and then I - I need to get back to my place, I'm on shift again in nine hours... I'll - I'll call you?"
Dinah handed her the cup of coffee. "It's more cream and sugar than you like, but I think you're going to need this more than me, right now." She murmured softly, looking past her daughter a moment to meet Oliver's eyes. Oliver nodded, slowly. Sara looked at her, then back to Oliver, raising an eyebrow.
"...what's going on?"
"There's something that Laurel and I need to tell you." Oliver said quietly. Sara looked even more confused, but followed silently into the bedroom, where Laurel was still sitting on the bed, writing more. Sara sipped at the coffee, making a face at presumably the amount of cream and sugar in it, but that didn't stop her from taking another sip a few moments later.
"So... I'm going to guess, from Mom saying I would need this cup of saccharine coffee that's practically milk at this point that... I'm going to find out what it is that you argued with her about, Laurel?" Sara let out, then dropped her head in her hand, clearing her throat. She approached Laurel, setting the coffee down on a side table and hugging her sister, tight.
"Sorry - I - I haven't slept in twenty four hours and I'm stressed, I should have opened with... - I -" Sara flushed. "Asking if you're okay seems a little inadequate, since your voice isn't -" She let out a breath, pulling away. "Are you okay, Laurel? I know you said you were, but you're still okay?"
Laurel held up a piece of paper. I'm okay as I can be, under the circumstances. The doctors say my voice should come back on its own soon.
Sara let out a breath, "Oh thank god. How - how did -"
"The doctors said they don't know." Oliver saved Laurel from having to write it all out. "Laurel's last memory before the explosion hit her was screaming, so they think it's a combination of strain and psychosomatic reactions."
"I guess... I guess that makes sense. I assume, between that, and Mom being here, you're still going to be taking a break from the... other job?" Sara murmured that last part, and Laurel nodded, writing quickly.
If it lasts for more than a few days, I'm not letting it stop me, but yes, for now. Then she found one of the papers she'd already written on, and added a few words, before holding it up. As for the argument Mom and I had - it was about what to do about the fact that Oliver has a son.
Laurel! Admittedly there was no good way to ease into it, but -
Oliver and Laurel's Apartment, Starling City
December 5th, 2013
As for the argument Mom and I had - it was about what to do about the fact that Oliver has a son.
Sara knew better than that, but she still found herself looking at Laurel's midsection. She picked up the cup of coffee again, taking another sip, grimacing again. I used to like this much sugar and cream in my coffee. It was something her mother and she used to have in common Being a cop really has fucked over my taste buds when it comes to this.
"...judging from the look on Oliver's face, I'm guessing this doesn't mean I'm going to be an aunt in half a year, so..." she trailed off, looking at Oliver. She knew Oliver hadn't always been faithful to Laurel way back when, when he'd gotten too drunk, at a party, or - and then there'd been a few times they'd briefly broken up... "So... I'm guessing that means you ran into someone who had a kid of his..." Though she found it hard to believe that someone with Oliver's kid wouldn't have tried to go public with that information... or maybe not, given what had happened to the Queen name, since the Undertaking, but what about before?
Laurel nodded, holding up a prewritten piece of paper. I ran into Samantha Clayton. And her son William. She lied about how old he was.
"Samantha Clayton... that name sounds..." Sara furrowed her brow. "Why do I know that name?"
Laurel turned that piece of paper over. Samantha was my roommate in college.
"Right. I remember you saying something about your roommate moving out in the middle of the year abruptly, and -" Sara blinked, then turned to Oliver. "You cheated on Laurel with her ROOMMATE?!" Sara was stunned she didn't screech those words, but somehow she just hissed them. "That's - that's - cheating with your girlfriend's roommate is just a step or two below cheating with her sister, which I mean - at least that couldn't happen because I'd never - but -'' Sara gabbled wordlessly for a long moment, unable to even find the right words, then finally shutting her mouth, and inhaling sharply.
It was one thing to cheat when you got drunk or high or worse at a party. Sara had sometimes wondered if Laurel was right in taking Oliver back those times, but he was Oliver Queen, and that long ago, Sara would have said Oliver was hot enough to be worth that. And it wasn't like Sara could throw a ton of stones for most of it, given her own habits at those same sorts of parties.
"I know." Oliver said quietly.
"You know! Is that all you have to say-"
"There's not much I can say. It was one of the stupidest decisions I ever made, but I made it. I told Laurel about it, about everything, when - when we found eachother again."
Sara only knew the outline of all five years for both of them, but he did know they'd met back up in Russia, and -
Sara felt her hands balling into fists, and she was still breathing in and out, quickly, sharply, feeling her jaw clench. She turned back to look at Laurel.
Dad already punched him. Oliver gave him the free shot - his choice. It's up to Oliver if he gives you the same chance.
"Oh, I'll do more than just punch him! How can you - he-" Sara closed her eyes, taking a breath, then letting it out, slowly. "...I - I guess, by then, with everything -" He gritted her teeth. "I can sort of understand it, but you - you -" she turned back to Oliver. "I am hurting you worse than Dad ever did, because I have a much better idea of what you're capable of taking than him."
Oliver grimaced, opened his mouth to say something, then stopped as Laurel started writing something. Sara held her tongue as well, until Laurel held up the paper again.
Whatever you do, whatever Oliver lets you do - and it's up to him. If I was up to me, Dad wouldn't have even been allowed the one punch - you can't kick him between the legs, or anything like that. And knowing you, it's crossing your mind.
Laurel held up another sheet, a deadpan, almost flat expression on her face. I like what's down there to be in full working order, thank you very much. Somehow, the deadpan expression,and the fact that she wasn't saying it out loud actually made that absolutely ridiculous line sound more -
Despite everything, Sara cracked a smile. She looked over at Oliver, who had looked over at Laurel, making a face at her, but Laurel just raised an eyebrow at him.
"I'll keep that in mind." She looked back at Oliver. "We'll talk about what I'm doing to you later, because we still have your son to talk about." God that sounds fucking weird to say. Sure it was probably inevitable eventually but - you expect to have some time to get used to the idea that someone you know is about to become a parent. "You didn't know about him, or there wouldn't have been Laurel having it out with Mom over it."
"Samantha said she lost the baby." Oliver nodded.
Well, that... I mean, that's surprising. At the very least, she'd have imagined anyone impregnated by Oliver Queen would have tried to get child support, or a trust fund - this was back when the Queens had ungodly sums of money, instead of just a lot of money. With most of Oliver's assets now invested into his effort to hold onto Queen Consolidated, or the trust that Laurel ran, that sort of thing wouldn't be as profitable now.
On the other hand, maybe she wanted to spare her child the media circus. Or worse.
"Well, clearly she lied. Are you sure her son is-"
When I ran into her, the first thing I did was tell her I know about the cheating, and that I forgave her. So she knew I knew about things. So she'd have no reason to lie about her son's age if he wasn't Oliver's.
"...point." Sara admitted. "You told Mom all this?"
I wanted her advice on - William has a life. Should I really uproot it? Should we? I knew I had to tell Oliver, but- what was there to do afterwards? Mom tried to convince me I shouldn't tell him at all.
"Wait, really?" Sara blinked. "What on earth was she - what, did she think Oliver was going to leave you for his baby momma? Whatever thoughtless, cruel, stupid shit he did all those years ago, that's not him now." She scoffed, "Hell, even if he was that sort of person still - and he's not, he's really not - he'd always come back to you, as long as you took him." The sky was blue. Water was wet. Oliver and Laurel would always get back together. Universal constants, really.
Yes, Mom thought that. Laurel shook her head. I know she meant well, but she doesn't understand.
"And you got angry with her and stormed out, during the argument?"
After the Count, I was, I still am, feeling raw. She lowered the paper and wrote a bit more. Exposed. Like a nerve. She swallowed, and Sara felt her anger at Oliver - well, not melt away, but at least get superseded. There were bigger things.
"Right. And... and I suppose an exploding particle accelerator, losing your voice and having to beat it into Dad's head that you forgave Oliver didn't help." Sara murmured, letting out a long sigh. "I'll - I'll try not to make it worse, for now."
Thank you. Laurel wrote. We still need to figure out what to do about William. He deserves a chance to know his father.
"I'm not planning on suing for custody or anything," Oliver murmured. "I - I just... he's my son."
"You don't need to explain that to me. I understand." And she understood not wanting to sue for custody. It was the right move, for a kid who was about to have his whole world change. But it's the right move, not suing for custody. At least as long as she doesn't try to keep you away from him entirely." Sara agreed. "You don't have to figure it out right now either." She sipped at the coffee again, then just downed the entire cup. Given how little she was running on, it would be enough to keep her awake until she got home, and then...
True. But we can't wait forever.
"No, but you have someone trying to make supersoldiers running around too." And IA was giving her another way too close look, since once again she was involved in a case - had actively taken over a case - that had vigilante fingerprints all over it. A friend of a friend in IA had even very obliquely hinted that they were taking another look at the prospect of Oliver and Laurel being the vigilantes.
Or at least, that was one way to interpret the warning. That friend of a friend was probably the only guy in IA she knew that appreciated what the Arrow and Black Canary were trying to do.
Well, in IA's defense, any good cop who works there has to be even more dedicated to upholding the letter of the law. Most of the SCPD wasn't a fan of the vigilantes, though some, like she'd been able to do before finding out who they were, could see why they were necessary.
But IA especially hated the vigilantes, and she knew they had it out for her. There were too many suspicious things piling up in her record.
"And..." She hesitated. This was her problem first, since IA was looking into her, first and foremost, but - if there was...
What?
"It - it can wait." IA moved slow, at the best of times, and it wasn't like they hadn't all covered their tracks. They had. There was - it could wait until things were -
There's only so much IA can actually do. The Vigilantes aren't their remit, technically. Sara told herself.
Sara. Laurel gave her a pointed look.
"Just - it's nothing that can't wait, I promise. Just a few days, okay?" She hugged Laurel again, holding her sister tight. "If you drop out of communication like that again, I'm tracking you down and dragging you back home myself."
You can certainly try. Laurel smiled, and Sara rolled her eyes.
"Okay, yes, I'd try. But I'd try very hard, so don't do it again. Even a pay phone or an unsecured line just to let us know you're alive!"
I didn't know an emergency was happening that was having you call that much to be worried! Laurel countered.
"I would have been calling you every day anyway, you know that." Oliver pointed out, and Laurel slowly nodded, conceding the point.
Next time I'm somewhere that has a run on phone characters, I'll find a different way to reach out, promise.
"Good." Sara said, chuckling a moment, allowing herself that moment of humor. She stood, then "I know there's a lot to discuss... and you and I," she looked to Oliver, "need to have words. But - I also need to get some sleep before my next shift, and I need... I do need to think. I'm still coming to terms with super soldiers too."
"...that did take some time to get used to the first time around," Oliver admitted. He looked away from her for a moment. "As for the words-"
"Later." Sara said, softly. Then she let out a breath. "Laurel forgave you, and she's the one you wronged, so that's the important thing. I can't control being upset on her behalf, even if she'd probably prefer I just move on."
It would be ideal, but I'd probably have problems doing that if our positions were reversed. Laurel admitted.
"Angry or not, you're still my friend." Oliver didn't do anything so obvious as sigh in relief or anything, but she could see a bit of tension leave him. "Worried about that?"
"Just... just a little." Oliver admitted quietly.
"Well, don't." Sara assured him. Besides, with as tiny as my social circle is, cutting him out would leave me with even fewer friends. And since Laurel and Oliver wouldn't break up even if faced with the heat death of the universe, even if she had decided she hated Oliver until the end of time, she'd have to learn to live with him anyway.
She covered her mouth as the yawn she'd been holding back all day finally escaped her lips, even as she tried to stop it. "And with that - I should move now, while I can still drive safely. I'll talk to you both in the morning."
The Foundry, Starling City
December 8th, 2013
Laurel's voice still hadn't recovered.
A quick check at Starling General had confirmed that things were still fine, she should have it back any moment. There was something a bit 'unusual' about her bloodwork, but after a second check by the lab, the doctors couldn't find anything to be worried about.
But Laurel was worrying. If there was no medical reason why she could have lost her voice, it was entirely psychological, and that meant she had some sort of... mental block? Somehow?
It didn't make any sense to her. And it was driving her to distraction, distraction that had brought her here, back down to the foundry, working the wing chun dummy and the salmon ladder. She was pushing herself as hard as she could, trying to push past this block, this distraction, everything coiled tight, inside her.
Her mother had, somewhat reluctantly, headed back to Central a few hours ago, getting word that classes would be starting up again next week. Her mom wasn't the only person she knew going from Starling to Central either.
Oliver and Sara had filled her in on all the details, about the CSI from Central - Barry Allen - and how he'd helped them, how Barry had saved Oliver's life. It wasn't ideal someone they didn't have time to vet knew the secret, but it had seemed to work out.
Only Allen had ended up also dealing with the effects of the Particle Accelerator explosion, which had left him in a coma. Which was why Felicity was taking a brief break from both of her jobs to head down to Central to visit the guy she was crushing on. According to Sara, the two were pretty cute together.
But more interesting, more concern, was the story relayed about Barry's mother's murder. Someone, moving in the lightning, being the real killer. It seemed impossible, but what little she knew about magic, and other... strange things, that the League had more experience with, it seemed possible. The League, and the circles it moved in, were rife with stories. Gossip, even, like Sara had described it a few months back.
Stories of the more strange and esoteric enemies that the League had killed, or dealt with. Most of the League's kills were of corrupt politicians, well-guarded warlords, people who had paid up with all the right people to be untouchable. Ordinary justice wouldn't deal with them, and so the League did. But there were always stories, of the kinds of people that ordinary justice couldn't deal with.
Malcolm Merlyn would have been - had been - a potent enemy for a SWAT team. Impossible, probably. But a bunch of SWAT Teams? An attack helicopter or two? Even Merlyn couldn't have handled all that at once.
But someone like Slade? Maybe. And the stories, not just of people like Damien Darhk and Felix Faust, with magic at their command, but other strange, unusual powers that defied explanation.
Some of them had to be fake, but others?
Unfortunately, try as Laurel might - and she had, wanting to pay Barry back for saving Oliver's life - she couldn't recall any stories about someone with the power to control, or become, or... move inside lightning, or whatever it was that Barry had apparently seen.
All that and more worked through her mind as she tried not to think about her lack of a voice, or how this might stick around, long-term. The problems it could create in the field, if she couldn't communicate directly. She could learn sign language of some sort, Oliver could as well, but -
I can't let it stop me. There's too much that needs to be done. More work to save this city.
The door started to open, and Laurel pulled away from the dummy, breathing harder than she usually did after a training session, having put more effort into this -
"Laurel." Sara greeted, coming in. Laurel nodded, raising her hand in a simple wave of greeting, grabbing a towel and drying off quickly, getting the worst of the sweat off her. "Do you have a minute... or ten? Or, like, thirty?" Sara's tone was slow, cautious and - anxious. Her sister was doing a good job of hiding it, but Laurel knew her too well to not notice the tense way she was standing, like she was ready to bolt. Not that she was, but it was her tell, when she was nervous, anxious, worried - a subtle shift in her stance, but one Laurel recognized.
Laurel nodded, looking for the pad of paper she'd brought with her, in case she needed it, finding it resting next to the computers. She grabbed it, and Sara nodded.
"So... you know how I said it wasn't anything that couldn't wait, the other day?" Sara started slowly, and Laurel nodded again. "I wasn't lying... it could wait. It can wait. But - it - you and Oliver you have so much on your plate and I -" Sara cut herself off. Laurel started to write, but Sara interrupted her. "I - I need to get this out now, because there's a lot to say, and if you interrupt me, I'm not sure I'm going to finish."
Now Laurel was worried. She swallowed, then nodded. What could be this much of an issue, affecting her this much? Sara still hadn't had a chance to have her 'words' with Oliver about Samantha, yet, but that couldn't be related to this.
"You know that there's people in SCPD, in Internal Affairs, who think I'm involved with the Hood and the Black Canary. Correctly, even if they don't know that for sure." Laurel remembered getting very annoyed, even a little angry with Sara over how she'd been unable to warn them about the SCPD's attempt at a trap, with the medical supply trucks. She'd been unfair about it, not really thinking about the pressures Sara had to be in. Which was doubly stupid, since worry about leaving Sara torn between her family and her job was the whole reason she'd been hesitant about bringing her in, asking for her help, accepting her help, initially.
"What you don't know, what I didn't know until just four days ago, while Oliver and Dad were driving down to Central to get you and -" Sara paused, took another breath, then went on. "...IA is looking even more closely now. Like, full on opening an investigation into me. And more importantly, someone at IA has gotten it into their heads that if I am working with the Black Canary and the Arrow... then the most likely candidates for Black Canary and Arrow are you and Oliver."
Laurel tensed. This is her definition of something that can wait? It wasn't that suspicion was the end of the world. They had plans for this. Oliver had a guy he knew, who could throw more mud into the water, distract, like she had when they'd arrested Oliver the first time. But they could only prepare for that sort of thing when they knew what was coming! Or even deliberately laid some leads themselves just to lure the SCPD and DA's office into overextending their hand.
This - this was not something that could.
"I know what you're thinking, and yes, it could wait, yes it can wait. IA moves slow at the best of times, and this is not the best of times." Sara insisted. She tensed more, biting her lip, crossing her arms in front of her chest, then uncrossing them as she kept going. "The SCPD - most of the department doesn't like the vigilantes. You know, for making us look bad, for breaking an ungodly number of laws - I've broken 262 laws at this point, depending on how you count! IA has every right to want to string me up and leave me out to dry," Sara laughed, a sardonic, pained bark without any humor. She kept talking, voice rising, sounding almost a little hysterical.
She's been letting this fester. That was a problem with both her, and her sister. They got it from Dad. Sitting on emotions, letting them ball up, repressing, and then... they kind of blew up. I got so good at that, in the League, I didn't realize I was even doing it so much, until after... until after the Count. Laurel closed her eyes a moment, forcing herself to take a breath, pushing back the sudden hit of anger and self-loathing that hit again as she remembered, the guilt, the shame -
"But - IA really doesn't like you two. It comes with the job, really. To be a good cop in Internal Affairs, not the kind of obstructionist asshole on the crime shows, you have to actually - you have to believe in the letter of the law. Like, deep, in your bones. So... IA really doesn't like you, or Oliver. Or the Vigilantes, anyway. You. Mostly. There's one. A friend of a friend. He's one of the few cops that - that sees why you're both necessary. Even if he doesn't like it. He let me know that IA was opening a formal case, made a very oblique reference, that they were looking into you, into Oliver." Sara held up a hand, starting to pace.
"All in the context of looking into me. They can't - IA can only investigate other cops. And IA's cases - they can't just hand information over to other branches of the department. Not without a whole, complicated process. Normally, I'd call it very stupid, but right now, it's a good thing."
Sara... you should have told us sooner. She'd only mentioned IA a few times, months ago. Nothing since. Even if this formal opening of a case was new, the eying her and Oliver, Sara still had to have known something was building. She hadn't come to them.
She doesn't need to be handling this by herself.
And she should have said something. She - they couldn't do their work if one of them was keeping information like this back! But she closed her eyes again, trying to push down on her anger. She'd - she'd yell at Sara later, when she had her voice back. Just - just a little yelling. As much because she was worried about her sister as anything else, but...
You can't keep this sort of thing secret, Sara.
Laurel approached Sara and touched her shoulder, gently, making her stop her pacing. Laurel wrapped her arms around her sister, hugging her for a moment, and Sara hesitated, then returned the hug, just for another few moments. Sara's breathing slowed, a little, she seemed less on the edge of hyperventilating.
Sara pulled away, "I... I -" She paused, saying nothing for a long moment. Laurel assumed she was done, and started writing, quickly.
We'll figure this one out too. We can cut back on how much you help us, for a while, try to get involved in other Detective's cases, actively muddy the waters... It's not like the SCPD's firewalls are so secure that Felicity can't get past most of them to get the info we need.
"It's more than that. I was a good cop, a good detective." Sara started, voice soft again, at least. A little calmer. "I had a good case closure rate, never had even a hint of any sort of corruption, and in a city like Starling, that's hard. Even good cops end up with... some kind of blemish." Sara turned away, then back to her. "Did you know that ninety percent of the detectives in SCPD get at least one use of force complaint against them, at some point in their careers?"
Laurel had found that statistic, when she was pre-law, doing a project for one of her classes. And she'd found that her father - their father - had had several, then. And while a few were unfounded, a few - a few probably weren't. It was one of the first times Laurel had ever had trouble looking her Dad in the eye, for several weeks after.
"Sure, some of them are nonsense, and some of them are complicated, but a lot are legitimate, even if - even if there's more to the cops behind them. Sometimes. But - I never had one. Sure, I sometimes pushed protocol, ran investigations without full approval, a lot of people complained to their lawyers about me digging into them too much, and some of the warrants I got were... dubious. I won't pretend to be perfect, I'm not sure any cop could be and damn me to hell if that isn't an indictment on my profession. But I was a good cop. And now - I've had IA open multiple investigations against me and -"
Sara! Stop! Laurel tried to get her attention, to get her to stop, finally settling for the very direct expedient of covering her mouth with one hand, like she had when they were -
I was... what, sixteen last time I did this to her?
She pulled her hand back, and Sara at least gave her a moment to write.
Sara. I'm sorry. I never wanted you to I never meant for you to have to end up in this situation. If you need to stop helping us entirely, I understand. Oliver would understand. This was not what she expected. And it was not something she wanted.
She - she understood why this might bother Sara. Why this - she didn't want to see Sara leave the team, the work. It wasn't just for her help, but for -
As sisters, she and Sara had always loved each other, but there had been times, especially when Sara dove into her partygirl antics too much, where she and Sara hadn't been friends. She'd been closer to her sister now, with her sister now, on the team, than she had for years before the Gambit.
She didn't want to lose that. And...
She couldn't deny being... again. Angry. Just a little. That Sara was potentially about to abandon the work. She understood, but -
She knows the SCPD has issues, she knows the work is important, and she wants to leave? Abandon - Laurel knew she was being unreasonable, but -
"That's just it! I can't stop. If I stop now, everything I've done, every law I've broken, will have been for nothing! And - the work you two do. I hate that it's true, but Starling City needs you. Both of you. Crime has dropped thanks to you, more people are alive because of you, and people that the SCPD could never have dealt with, or at least, not without a lot more work, a lot more deaths, a lot more time, are in prison or dead or just - not an issue anymore. I can't just stop helping you, knowing what I know. And if - if something happens, something where you, or Oliver, you need my help, and I'm not there... I wouldn't be able to live with myself."
You don't need to do this to yourself, for me, for Oliver. Please don't. Don't light yourself on fire to keep me warm, Sara.
"It's not that simple. It - it's too late. I -" Sara started pacing. "There's - there's more - there's something - I can't - I can't just quit, Laurel. This problem is mine. Mine to deal with. We'll - we'll have to work on the - we can deal with IA, you're right, I just -" Sara ran a hand through her hair.
Laurel moved to stand in front of her sister, writing again. There's more? Sara, whatever it is, you can tell me. Yes, I'm a little upset you held this back, and if my voice was working I might even yell at you a bit, but I understand why you did, and - I don't want you to quit working with us, with the team, but I don't want you to feel so torn in two.
"You don't get it, Laurel! You need to stop being so - you need to stop being supportive and understanding! This isn't the only thing I'm keeping from you, from Oliver. And my worst - I've done more than just obstruct justice and leak information and - I stole two kilos of Heroin from evidence lockup for Cyvus Vanch because he's blackmailing me with footage of you killing the Count!"
Sara's eyes went wide with horror, her mouth dropping open as if she was only realizing what she'd actually said. "Laurel, no - I -"
Laurel felt her heart pounding in her chest, breathing suddenly quickening. She - she felt something in her throat. A - something gathering, or coiling or - she didn't have the right words for it. It was - it was almost like something was stuck there, some piece of food, but she wasn't choking, she could breathe just fine.
She was - she mentioned Vanch calling her, making threats, talking big, and then she never - she knows better than this! Knows better than to - she - she stole evidence, not to hide our work, not - everyone knows I killed the Count, it-
And Vanch. Vanch was coming after her sister. Again. He hadn't learned his lesson the first time.
"Laurel you - He was - He was the one who told The Count where to go! He was the - he set the Count up. He had everything planned. That footage - it's not just you killing! I saw how - anyone who's seen the Black Canary fight, who has even the slightest inkling - and it's more than the cops! He could send it to Danny Brickwell, China White - he has backups, deadman switches- you can't do anything to him! I didn't - I shouldn't have told you-"
YES YOU SHOULD HAVE! Laurel wanted to scream. This wasn't just - a bit of a delay, keeping something bottled up until it was too big to hide or -
This was -
She stole heroin, gave it to Vanch. That just gave him more dirt on her. What else was he going to demand from her? The video - they could deal with some video, or even -
"This is my problem to deal with, not yours. I'll deal with Vanch - you don't need to-" Sara was talking quickly. Laurel felt like her throat was on fire as Sara kept trying to walk back what she said, pretending it wasn't what it was. She was talking around something, trying to avoid saying something else, about Vanch, about.
Why didn't she - she had no right to keep something like this quiet! This isn't just about her! We could have planned for the video, gotten out in front of it-
She was seeing red. Some small part of her mind she wasn't really listening to was trying to point out it really hadn't been that long since she'd killed the Count, despite it feeling like months (and yet feeling like yesterday, at the same time), that there was still plenty of time to lay some sort of ground work, get out in front of the video. That Sara's concerns about how she'd have reacted to the news, especially right then, might have been reasonable -
No. None of that was registering in her mind, against an unassailable brick wall of half-reasonable, half-unreasonable rage, and that feeling in her throat, almost like her anger was -
She felt something rising, almost like she was going to vomit, about to force it's way up - but it wasn't vomit, couldn't be vomit -
I can't - I need to turn away from Sara. Some instinct told her she had to turn, had to look away-
Laurel turned, facing away from Sara, towards the computers, the equipment on the tables - her mouth all but forced itself open, and she screamed-
And she watched, as her scream seemed to travel in visible waves, from her, into the computers, the equipment, Oliver's tennis-ball shooting device for arrow practice - all of it exploded, sparks flying from the computers, the diagnostic medical cart, the visible sound waves crashing into the wall, actually making pieces of the concrete fly off, concrete dust rising.
Laurel stood there, surveying the damage, the wreck her scream had left of their hideout, the damage mere sound - sound she'd made, not some sonic device or -
"Madha bihaqi aljahim?" Laurel found herself saying, her first words since the particle accelerator explosion in Arabic, her mind instinctively going back to the language she'd practically thought and dreamed in, while in the League.
What the hell?