Laurel didn't know how long she screamed after Robert killed himself. It could've been minutes, or hours. All that she knew was that by the time she was done, her voice had grown hoarse and his body cold. She couldn't bear to look at his destroyed visage anymore, so she quickly found a loose cloth and covered his face with it, setting the body aside, somewhere far away from her.

It was just her now. Alone, adrift at sea. Once she could find it in herself to actually think without descending into terrible, earth-shaking sobs, she found the supplies and counted them up, knowing that she had to ration them carefully until… until she either found land or was rescued. Or died. Whichever came first.

Survive. That was Robert's last request. He had killed himself and Dave so she could live. Her. Laurel had no idea what could have possessed him to do that, but she owed it to him at least try, so his sacrifice wouldn't be in vain.

The days passed. By the time land came into view, Laurel was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. But the sight of land invigorated her, if only slightly. Once she was at the island, she could find water and food. And then all she had to do was just wait until some nearby ship passed by and signaled them. She would be rescued, and then she'd be home.

She didn't have anything to push the life raft towards the island. No oars or motors. So all Laurel could do was wait and hope the tides and wind guided her directly to the beach. Luckily, they did, as she found out one morning after another fitful night of sleep.

When Laurel found the life raft properly beached, she stumbled out of it and onto the beach, grasping at the sand in relief. She wasn't going to die. At least, not yet. There was still a chance she would make it home and see her family and Ollie—

Laurel stilled, and turned back to the life raft, where Robert's body was still waiting. When she saw the seagulls beginning to descend upon the corpse, she stiffened. "Hey!" she shouted, finding some kind of inner strength in her to rush over. "Get away from him!"

Scaring the seagulls away, she gazed down at the body, before she steeled herself and snaked her arm around Robert's stiff neck. She couldn't protect his body from the birds all the time, and it's highly unlikely it would ever make it back to Starling. Which meant she needed to make him a proper resting place herself. It was the least she could do, for everything he'd done for her.

It took a minute for her to find a suitable spot. She didn't have a shovel, so it wasn't like she could bury him in the nearby forest. But there was a rocky hill far enough inside with a lot of stones that could work in lieu of dirt. With all her strength, Laurel dragged Robert's body away from the life raft and to the spot she had chosen, and began painstakingly covering him with the stones she found, from head to toe. Once he was completely covered up, she found a stick and some hardwood and scratched his name on it, before settling it at the head of the makeshift grave.

When she was finally done with her task, Laurel stared at the grave for a long while, as she slowly began to tear up again. Already she could feel the well of desperation and despair crawling up her chest and into her throat. God, she had just buried her boyfriend's father. A man she had known since she herself was a child. How was she supposed to tell Ollie? Or Thea or Mrs. Queen? Especially when it was because of her that Robert chose to kill himself?

Would she ever get the chance to?

Before Laurel could even begin to comprehend the weight of her situation, pain bloomed in her shoulder. She gazed down to see an arrow there, piercing right through her skin, and looked up, catching a glint of green. A man?

The pain was too much. She passed out.

Starling City

Moira Queen, feeling every single year of her age, sighed as she entered the SCPD's drunk tank, guided by what looked like an equally resigned beat cop. She was far more familiar with this place than she'd like, especially in recent weeks, and would rather be anywhere else. Like at her home, where she could curl into the old comforts and memories of Robert and pretend he was still there instead of somewhere at the bottom of the sea, murdered by his best friend.

But the police had called and she had answered, if only because she had no desire for her only son to spend his day at a rank, disgusting place like this. Some would say that Moira should be harder on Oliver, that she shouldn't let his increasingly outrageous behavior get more out of hand. She agreed. But—it was hard to find the heart to do it. After all, Oliver was suffering far more than her.

It was almost routine, checking Oliver out. Before she knew it, she had her son stumbling into her arms, unkempt and hangover-induced, but undoubtedly cognizant. Moira gripped Oliver's wrist tightly as she all but dragged him out of the building and towards the front of the police station, where their car and its driver were waiting for them. The man needed no prompting and opened the door to the backseat automatically; Moira guided Oliver inside first before smoothly sliding in herself, ignoring the flashing lights of paparazzi throughout the entire exchange.

Within seconds after their seatbelts were put on, they were guided out of the throng of photographers and back onto Starling's streets. Once the silence settled in, Moira deigned to take a look at her son, who was doing his best to sightsee out the window in return. Understandably, Oliver seemed determined to look at anything but her.

"Oliver."

Oliver didn't answer. Or move.

Moira sighed. "Oliver, honey, please. We need to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about. I got drunk, and then arrested. You picked me up. That's all there is to it."

"For the third time this week," the Queen matriarch pointed out, a little stern and fed up with her son's attitude. He had been caustic like this for weeks, ever since the news about the Gambit had broke. She had let it slide, because he was careful to never direct his anger towards Thea or any of the house staff, but… "Oliver, this can't go on."

"I'm an adult, Mom. You can't control what I do, and Dad left me more than enough money to live independently if I want." Which meant she couldn't even threaten to cut him off to make him behave.

"Sweetheart, your father wouldn't want this." A pause, and then Moira decided to take a gamble. "Laurel wouldn't want this either."

There was a beat, and then finally her son bothered to look at her. His eyes were red, glassy and shiny. It wasn't just from the alcohol, she knew.

"Both of them are gone," he said coldly. "It doesn't matter what they would've wanted."

"Oliver—"

"Let's just go home."

There was a finality in his voice that brokered no argument. Moira fell silent, and didn't push any further.

When Dinah Lance trudged inside her home, baggy-eyed and carrying far too many papers to grade, the last things she wanted to be faced with was a family argument. Unfortunately, the universe had proven a few weeks ago that it didn't care about what Dinah wanted, so that was what she was faced with when she arrived to her house. Right in the middle of the living room were Sara and Quentin, face-to-face and in another horrendous screaming match.

"How long has this been going on, huh?" Quentin demanded, waving some kind of piece of paper in his hand. His eyes were bloodshot, no doubt from another night of heavy drinking. Dinah had long since thrown out their own stores of alcohol once it became clear Quentin wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon, but that didn't preclude him from buying more anyway.

"I told you not to go through my stuff!" Sara screeched back, hair frazzled and her own eyes red. That was another reason to get rid of the alcohol — Quentin wasn't the only one spending their nights getting drunk, though Sara seemed to be finding her fix anyway at the clubs she had been going to every night and with boys she barely knew.

Quentin ignored his daughter's tantrum and continued reaming her a new one. "You've been skipping classes at school for months and keeping it a secret from your mother and I! You lost any right to complain once we learned you were wasting the college fund we set aside for your education!"

"Well, maybe if you paid attention to me more often, you could've figured out what I was doing!"

"Don't you dare try to deflect the blame, young lady! Your sister would've never done something like this—"

The detective was cut off from the barked, bitter laughter of his youngest and now-only daughter. "Of course she wouldn't have. She was perfect like that. Well guess what, Dad, I'm not her, and I'm sorry I'm the daughter you got stuck with." With that, Sara snatched the paper from her father's hand and stormed away, leaving her shocked parents behind.

Lian Yu

I killed something.

That was the only thought going through Laurel's mind as she mindlessly picked at the chicken Yao Fei had cooked for her. She had snapped this chicken's neck with her own two hands, too hungry and desperate for food. Finally, the man had bothered to talk to her in English, and said the words that even now were haunting her. You want survive this place, bird not last thing you kill.

Survive. The last thing Robert had told her before he put a bullet in his skull. And according to Yao Fei, the only way she could survive this place — Lian Yu, Purgatory, whatever — was by being willing to kill.

Laurel had never killed before, nor had she ever wanted to. She never had that kind of malice inside her. Sure, she had wanted to become a police officer at one point in her life, and that included the possibility of having to kill someone someday to protect someone else, but back then the idea of doing that had been abstract. Distant. She had never expected to really do it, and then her father had laid down the law and told her no, she wasn't going to the police academy, and she thought she never would. Instead, she turned her dreams into becoming a lawyer and using the law to help people that way.

And yet now, here she was. On an island in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but the clothes on her back and this chicken she was eating. With only some crazy guy in a hood with a bow and arrows as her only ally. A man who was telling her there was something or someone dangerous enough on the island that she would have to kill to survive.

It was just so absurd that Laurel was almost tempted to laugh. Instead, she fingered the necklace around her neck, the one that Oliver had given her before she went on that godforsaken boat. Just days or weeks ago, they had been discussing moving in together, dreaming about their future. And now, she might never see him again.

God, just the thought of it made her want to cry again. And then she saw the canary and thought of her family, and felt the tears well up. She did her best to hold them back — she didn't think Yao Fei would appreciate hearing her sob again.

"What is that?"

Laurel blinked, and looked up. Yao Fei was gazing down at her hands, specifically at the medallion. The young woman swallowed. "It's a necklace my boyfriend gave me," she explained. "It was supposed to be a memento of him and my family, to help me remember them while I was away in China."

Yao Fei hummed. "Forget them too," he ordered. "Only way to survive."

That only caused Laurel to bite her lip instead. It took everything she had not to break down then and there.

"Now, I'm going to ask you again: do you know anything about this man?"

Laurel closed her eyes, preparing herself for the pain, and shook her head. A moment later, she found herself jabbed once more with the stun baton, electricity running through her as she grit her teeth. It seemed like forever before it finally ended and relief came, but she didn't allow herself to let her guard down. She knew it was just a brief reprieve until they started asking more questions she refused to answer and began torturing her again.

It had been just a few days since she arrived on Lian Yu and met Yao Fei. This morning, while he had been out hunting for their breakfast, Laurel had been nabbed by a bunch of unknown men. She was taken to a tent where she was introduced to a man named Edward Fyers and his associate, Wintergreen. Before she even had a chance to really comprehend what was going on, she was strung up by her wrists and slowly tortured by the masked man as Fyers demanded she tell him everything she knew about Yao Fei.

Laurel refused to budge. She had lost much ever since the Gambit went down, but not all of her principles. Yao Fei had helped her when he had no reason to, imparting important advice and even helping her get food. It would be poor form to betray him now, even in the face of torture like this.

But then, Fyers suddenly stopped. There was a spark in his eye, one Laurel didn't like. "You're stronger than you look," he complimented; the woman tried not to roil away in disgust. She had a feeling that would've just gotten her another bad shock. "It's obvious that conventional torture isn't going to work with you, so how about this — either you tell me what you know, or I'll let my men have some 'fun' with you."

Something in Laurel went cold. "W-What?"

The mercenary shrugged. "What can I say? They've been stuck on this island for the past two years, not a woman in sight. They're in desperate need of some stress relief, and even all muddied up like this, you're a beautiful little thing. Once you're a bit cleaned up, I doubt a single one of them will have anything to complain."

Laurel was spitting in his face before she even realized what she was doing, lips twisted in snarl. She was not some toy for him to pass around! "Fuck you!"

However, it was soon proven to be a mistake. Fyers had reeled away from her spit, quickly wiping it off with the sleeve of his shirt. When he looked at her, the amusement was gone. Instead, there was a downright predatory expression on his face, one that made Laurel's stomach curl.

"You know what? I'll think I'll have you myself first," he declared.

Laurel tensed upon hearing that and prepared to fight him off as much as she could when he began to reach out for her, but then help arrived. She let out a sob of relief as Yao Fei suddenly appeared and attacked her two captors. He knocked away Fyers and had a small duel with Wintergreen, before managing to knock him away too. He cut Laurel down, carefully wrapping his arm around her as they rushed out of the tent.

"Thank you, thank you," she babbled to him as they fled. "They tortured me, but I refused to say a word, so he was planning to-to…" It was too horrible to even think about.

Yao Fei's face turned grim upon hearing that. They kept fleeing and fleeing, but the sounds of the approaching men meant they didn't have long. Yao Fei seemed to realize that too, because he suddenly stopped and helped her lean against a tree. "Can you run?" he asked.

Laurel stumbled a bit, but while she was still in a bit of pain her legs were still working and she felt like she could keep running forever. The adrenaline, most likely. "I can."

He eyed her for a bit, but seemed to be satisfied, and took something out — a map. "Go to place I marked here — there should be abandoned plane. Help will be waiting there," the archer revealed.

A blink. "What?" Laurel asked. "Aren't you—" She was cut off by more shouting and the sounds of running.

"Go!" Yao Fei ordered. "I'll lead them away!"

Laurel still looked reluctant. She didn't want to leave her only ally — friend — alone. But the sounds were getting louder and it was clear Yao Fei wasn't going to budge. So she turned towards another direction and ran, and tried not to feel like too much of a coward.

Starling City

Sara's head was spinning. What was going on? The last thing she remembered was getting kicked out of the club and stumbling back to her car. She got behind the wheel and then…

Oh.

No wonder the red and blue lights were familiar. They were police cruisers. Seconds later, the door to Sara's own car was wrenched open, and she found herself dragged out of the vehicle and into waiting cuffs. She looked around to see if she recognized any of the officers, but it was dark and her eyes weren't the best after a night of hard drinking. Then she was roughly dumped into the back of a cruiser, and it didn't seem to matter at all.

A freaking DUI. Wonderful.

Dad's gonna kill me.

"Do you have any idea how lucky you are right now?" Quentin growled as Sara followed him into their home. Dinah was already waiting for them in the living room, looking every bit as disappointed as her husband. "I had to pull so many strings to get you off, and that's only because you didn't harm anyone but the car and yourself! If you had killed anyone, you would be in jail right now, waiting to be arraigned for your next court date!"

Sara rolled her eyes. "But I didn't, Dad. And I've learned my lesson. Next time I go out, I'll make sure to get a taxi or something when I leave."

"Oh no, Sara. You are not getting off that easily," the father announced, hands on his hips. "No more going out or drinking. You're grounded until we can be sure you can act responsibly."

Naturally, this didn't sit well with the younger Lance. "You can't ground me!" she declared, incensed. "I'm twenty years old! I'm an adult! Besides, aren't you being a hypocrite, Dad? You've been downing around three bottles of scotch a night ever since Laurel died!"

Both of the Lance parents flinched at the reminder of their eldest daughter's death, and Dinah decided it was time for her to get involved. As much as she loved her daughter, even she couldn't stand her lashing out at them like this. "Sara, at least your father is limiting his drinking to his off hours and isn't letting it affect his work. You, however, have been out of control for weeks. And what happened last night—you could've gotten someone else killed honey. Or… or yourself." It was clear Dinah couldn't bear the thought of losing her remaining daughter.

And just like that, something in Sara snapped.

"Well, it's too bad I didn't!" she screeched, to her parent's shock and horror.

"Honey—"

"I was always such a bitch to Laurel. I hated her so much at times. She always so perfect, so smart and good that everyone always expected me to be just like her," Sara ranted, tears streaming down her eyes. "She got everything. She got Ollie. And I thought I could have Ollie too while she was away. Everyone except her knew he wasn't ready to move in with her yet, that he wasn't ready to grow up. And when he's like that, he cheats, and I though I could convince him to cheat with me. I could finally have him to myself, if only for a little bit. I was so happy that she was going away."

"And now she's gone for good and me, the bitch that was thinking of sleeping with her sister's boyfriend just to hurt her, is still here instead." She buried her face into her hands. "It should've been me who died instead."

With those final words, Sara collapsed onto her knees, sobbing. Her parents rushed forward to catch her, and as she was in their arms, looked at each other helplessly.

By the looks of things, the chapters are going to be in the 3k to 4k range for this story, which is fine. Truth be told, I'm mostly searching for natural stopping places for the chapters. Length doesn't really matter to me, as long as it passes a certain threshold.

As for the story itself, everyone's having a bad time. Laurel is coping with the guilt of Robert's death, the despair at the possibility she might never make it home, and the terror of landing in a place like Lian Yu. Especially after her first encounter with Fyers; while I can confirm now that Laurel isn't going to suffer any sexual assault, I will say people will be threatening her with it. It's implied, after all, Sara faced some form of sexual assault on the island (mostly in regards to her relationship with Ivo), and most of the men Laurel is going to deal with on Lian Yu are violent people with very little morals, who, as Fyers notes, haven't had the company of beautiful women for several years. It's just not realistic for her not face that threat as well.

It's also for that reason that Yao Fei opted to send her to Slade much sooner than he did with Oliver. Laurel suffered a little bit less torture because Fyers knew he could make that threat, meaning she was still able to move, enough to conceivably make it to Slade before her injuries caught up to her. Sending her to Slade also means she's under another person's protection and reassure her that none of Fyers's men will get to her to carry out his threat.

Back in Starling, everyone is grieving. Oliver is getting the double dose of losing both his father, and Laurel, while the Lances, especially Sara, are beginning to realize how much they took Laurel for granted. And that culminates in Sara's DUI and subsequent rant, where she reveals how much guilt she feels that she's the one alive while Laurel, who she views as a much better person than her, is the one who "died".

Quick warning, Laurel's first year on the island is going to be very similar to Oliver's. It isn't until the second year that things seriously begin to go off the rails and we begin to see how much Laurel being the one who "died" changes things.

Next Chapter: Laurel meets a certain Australian intelligence agent.