Clean slate

Laurel thought about going home as the elevator sped past all the floors in the building. The idea no longer petrified her as it had the night before. She could mull it over in her mind without feeling revulsion or protest rise as rebellion in her throat. But she also felt no need to rush back there. When she tried to pin the feeling down, the best way she could describe it to herself was that the events of the past day had cut away any strings or chains that had held her where she'd been. She was a planet knocked out of orbit and just now she was deciding whether she wanted to be a planet at all. She could become a comet and speed away in the universe. The possibilities were endless.

For the first time in a long time she thought about what she wanted. And not in the context of basic necessities or duties or pleasing other people. She was learning to break things down into very small and manageable parts. She tried to remember what she used to like, but as she listed things off in her mind – none of them struck a chord. The elevator doors opened – she had walked in with her head held high and now her eyes were staring at the floor again. She couldn't imagine what would make her happy. Wasn't that what had led her to where she'd been last night in the first place? Maybe everything was hopeless.

She took a deep breath as she walked out. No. Last night, past year, hell, her whole past life had been about Oliver. Mainly about Oliver. And everybody else – people she didn't know and people who were her family. And she had invested so much in them foolishly hoping that they would invest right back, that somehow they would fix for her whatever it was that she was missing. She'd been a fool. And if something was hopeless, then all that was hopeless, and right now she had already decided to focus on herself. She chided herself that she couldn't give up that easy without even trying. A little fight. A little fight and a little courage. She reminded herself that she didn't need to find a magic cure. All she needed was one thing she might like. Just one small thing. Baby steps.

Starling city was alight with street lights and lights from buildings. The pollution from the light concealed the stars and Laurel realized she wanted to see the stars with a near desperate need. She turned on her phone and booked a midnight viewing at the observatory in a city app that had been sitting in her phone for forever. She vaguely remembered using it once before to buy Opera tickets. She had ended up going with a friend from work, because Oliver couldn't have been bothered. That had been before the Gambit.

That prompted her into action. She stood on the street in front of the hotel and frantically deleted every app on her phone that she couldn't remember using within last six months. When her fingers were stiff from the cold and the doorman asked for the third time if she wanted him to call for a taxi – she realized that her phone was not the problem. Another thing that she craved was a clean slate. A fresh start. Her breath came out in white puffs as she laughed at the thought.

She also finally noticed the red little receiver at the top info line of the screen. She pulled the notification board down to read three missed calls from Thea, five from Oliver, one from her father and several from unknown number. The responsible side of her felt like she should react immediately. Call them back – find out what they wanted, but the rest of her… Was exhausted at the thought. She felt dangerously fragile.

The last thing Laurel needed right now was bad news from the BAR council or a lecture from her father or a 'you should really love your sister, Laurel' from Oliver. She couldn't even think of those scenarios without wanting to scream with frustration. There was also a notification about 1 unheard message in her voicemail. Her fingers felt too cold to click on it and check the caller – it felt like a slippery slope. If she checked who the message was from – she would listen to it, and then she'd forget about the stars at the observatory tonight and all she'd think about would be how much more peaceful the water under the bridge is.

I said I'll try, I said I'll try, she muttered without sound as she turned and walked up the street. She hadn't really – said that, that is, but she did now. She promised herself to try, and that meant she had to be cruel to be kind. She switched off her phone and took out her SIM card. She broke it before she could fully process her decision or change her mind. She dumped the phone, it's battery and the card in separate parts in trashcans as she walked past them. Clean slate. Clean slate.

She almost walked past a little café before deciding to warm up. The smell of fresh baked goods lured her in. She ordered a coffee. A croissant still warm from the oven. And asked for a phone. Of all the unanswered calls - one bothered her the most. The barista let her use the office phone as he prepared her order. The call on the other end was picked up too fast.

"Hello?"

"Thea?"

"Laurel! Thank… Where are you? I've called you! Ollie called you! I left you a message! Where have you been?" Thea rushed it all out in one breath.

"I'm…," Laurel forced a smile at the barista who looked her way, "I lost my phone," she lied.

"Oh…" Thea had been prepared to do a long speech, but that stopped her in her tracks. "Are you okay?"

"What? Yes, I'm fine," Laurel winced. Every sentence out of her mouth was a lie.

"No, wait…," Thea had almost a sixth sense to telling when people were lying to her. "What's going on?"

"Look… I'm… Good. For the moment, I… I really don't want to talk about it," Laurel bit her lip, wincing. She was not ready to tell Thea what had happened. She was not sure she'd ever be. "I need some time, and that's the truth. Please. I just don't want you to worry."

"You say that and you expect me not to worry?!" there was a shuffling noise as if Thea was moving around.

"Just… Tell Oliver not to call me, alright? I can't talk to him right now," this felt like the most awkward conversation of her life. She didn't want to put Thea in the middle between herself and Oliver, but Laurel knew that he wouldn't let things off if she continued to ignore him, and she just couldn't deal with him at the moment. Thea had done nothing to deserve this. And Laurel honestly didn't want to hurt her, but she also needed her space.

"What did Ollie do?" then Thea huffed as if rolling eyes at her own question. "Never mind," with Oliver there was always something. "Where are you?"

"Thea, you don't have to…"

"No, I have to," Thea protested. "You disappear on me for nearly a day and now you're all 'I need some time' and you think I won't come to you? You forget I'm the one that partied with kids that used every cliché in the book to dull their pain," she sighed. Her voice went a tone softer and quieter, "I don't know what happened, and I swear I won't tell Oliver anything if you don't want me to, but let me come to you. You were there when I needed you. Let me do the same."

Thea was just eighteen. She was whole ten years younger than Laurel, and she had been through a lot too. She had no idea what had happened, but she wasn't going to let it go. Last time she had seen Laurel spiraling she had called her brother and he had just bounced her back at Thea, asking to call for a taxi and cut off the bar. Thea wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

She had hoped that maybe things between Laurel and her brother had improved, but… To be honest, she couldn't blame Laurel for the fact that they hadn't. Ollie wasn't making it easy. If Thea were to be brutally honest – Oliver wasn't making it easy to be liked in his own family. He ditched important events. He could be intense about the weirdest things or entirely distracted about everything at other times… It just didn't feel like he was back at all sometimes.

And the way Laurel now sounded on the phone… Thea knew that unique sound of loss and despair. It was easy to look at her and see Thea Queen – the spoiled, little, rich girl. But Thea could read people well and pain best of all, because she was intimately familiar with it.

She knew how grief felt, she'd had her lessons when she lost her brother and father. She knew how it felt when the light seemed to go out of everything – when Queen manor became dull and grey and her mother withdrew, and they even stopped celebrating Christmas. She knew how it felt when she could do anything and nobody would care. How money could solve everything but give her back what she needed most. She knew how it felt not to give a damn, or rather, desperately wishing that that would be the case and how willing she had been to do anything, to use anything to achieve that. That's how she had ended up in the car crash. That's when Laurel had pulled her out of potential prison sentence and back into light. That's when she learned to find purpose and fire inside herself. That's how she met Roy.

Thea wasn't just going to stand on the sidelines and watch Laurel drown. "Please," she said. She used to have this friend who didn't live until her nineteenth birthday. The same friend who'd brought her drugs chasing the same high. Thea knew how easy it was to overlook people when they needed help, and how easy it was to lose them barely a moment later. She didn't know what had happened. But she could hear Laurel's voice. She was not… was not going to lose someone else.

Laurel closed her eyes to shut the world out. And told Thea the address of the café.

"I'll be there in fifteen," Thea promised.

"Don't...," Laurel took a breath, it took more effort than it should have. "Don't speed."

"Twenty then."

"I'll be here," Laurel promised.

"You better," Thea reproved, but there was a smile in her tone.

Laurel ended the call and handed the phone back to the barista wondering what she'd done. She hadn't meant to get Thea involved in this… Whatever it was that was happening to her now. She'd just seen Thea's call, and she just hadn't been able to leave that without answer and somehow Thea was now on her way and – what on earth was Laurel going to tell her? She couldn't tell her the truth. What kind of a conversation was that? And she couldn't lie to her face either.

Laurel found a table and sat down almost in a daze. She had resolved to do this… living thing. She had made the decision to do this alone. She had been sure she'd… That she'd try. That she'd make an effort. And through it all she had been utterly convinced of one core thing – that she didn't want people to know. She didn't need their pity or their understanding. She didn't need coddling or sympathies. She had been so sure she needed to figure this out all on her own.

And then there was Thea - a true force of nature. Laurel certainly hadn't counted on Thea being so forceful, or of her sensing that something was wrong and leaping on it like a hound on a blood trail. Absent mindedly she turned the teaspoon in her coffee a couple of times to mix in the sugar. She could only hope that Thea wouldn't arrive with Oliver on her heels. Or, heaven forbid, Sara or her father. Laurel was not ready for all that.

Dreading the upcoming meeting Laurel took a slow sip of her coffee. To tell the truth, she couldn't remember the last time she had the simple time to sit down and have a coffee. It was always takeaway. Always on the run. She hadn't actually sat down in a coffee shop in ages. The realization of the newness of the moment ignited something small and warm in her chest. It felt like something happy. She smiled and took her time taking another sip.

Thea arrived seventeen minutes later. She came alone.