"Come on, Ollie!" Tommy threw an arm around his best friend and guided him away from the bar. His cheeks were red, flushed with heavy inebriation. "Some lovely ladies are waiting for us on the dance floor."

"Tommy…" Oliver trailed off. The two of them had been hitting up every club in the city for weeks now. Ever since Tommy had gotten back to Starling from that business trip his dad and him had been on and they had finally gotten word about the Gambit, in fact. The deaths of the man Tommy had always viewed as his true father and one of his three closest friends had hit him almost just as hard as it hit Oliver. He had been more than willing to joining his best friend in the debauchery to help distract them from their grief.

Most of that debauchery, however, involved a lot of drinking and weed. Oliver couldn't really find it in himself to flirt or dance with any other woman, his mind constantly on Laurel. Meaningless sex didn't hold anywhere near the appeal it used to have. What were those brief bouts of pleasure and lingering guilt in the morning compared to being with the woman he had loved since he was sixteen? A woman who was gone, never to return? He had always enjoyed his time with Laurel, but it was only now was he beginning to realize how little he had properly appreciated those moments.

"It'll make you feel better," his best friend insisted, a bit of desperation in his eyes. Oliver knew that it wouldn't, but Tommy was already dragging him away before he could protest any further. Before the grieving man knew it, he found himself in a throng of beautiful women, all smiling and giggling at him, heavy and heady music playing around them.

Oliver, seeing no way out, tried his best attempt at the signature playboy smile and tried to get into the mood. With the alcohol in his system and the upbeat atmosphere, it wasn't hard. For those brief few minutes, he even allowed himself to forget about everything: Laurel, his father, his mother…

And then one of the girls tried to touch his chest.

His mind flashed to Laurel in that single instant, and then there was a cry of pain. Oliver blinked as his mind righted itself and he suddenly became aware of his surroundings. The dancing had suddenly stopped, even though the music was still playing. Everyone staring at either him or the girl on the floor, who was looking up at him in disbelief. Whispers were flowing from everywhere.

The bouncers came to kick them out not long after. Truth be told, Oliver couldn't find it in himself to care.

Lian Yu

Laurel winced as she leaned against a tree, feeling the burn scars and cuts that were decorating her midsection. Once she was far enough away from the camp, she had done her best to treat the wounds, but the basic first-aid training her father insisted she and her sister get could only account for so much, and she didn't have supplies besides. The best she could do in the end was make sure that she didn't push herself too hard while she tried to make it to the plane like Yao Fei ordered. It was likely her friend's life depended on it.

After what seemed like forever, she finally stumbled upon the plane wreckage Yao Fei told her about. Relief flowed through her body at the sight, and she collapsed to her knees. She tried to crawl her way inside, but her eyes grew heavy, and she knew, instinctively, that she was beginning to pass out. It seemed she had pushed herself too hard after all.

The last thing she heard before the blissful darkness claimed her was the rough sound of footsteps. And then finally, Laurel blacked out.

When Laurel came to, she found herself propped up against a wall, her arms tied around her back and her ankles tied together too. She shifted a bit as she tried to get out of her bonds and into a more comfortable position, and winced. Bandages were wrapped around her middle, and it seemed like someone had applied medicine to her wounds. A silver lining, but that didn't get rid of the sting of whatever had been applied to those burns and cuts.

"Slept well?"

She stiffened a bit at the new voice and turned her head. A man was there, tall and muscular and wearing military gear. He had a sword in his hand, one that made Laurel swallow. "Are you the help Yao Fei was talking about?" she asked in a small voice.

The man narrowed his eyes.

"My name is Laurel. Laurel Lance," she continued. "I'm a castaway. The ship I was sailing on sank and I washed up on this island on a life raft. Yao Fei saved me and helped nurse me back to help. Then Fyers captured me and tried to torture me for information on him. He saved me again and sent me here, telling me to come here for help."

"Believable story," her new captor noted. "And Fyers doesn't have any women among his people, making it highly unlikely you're a spy. But I'm still not sure if I should trust you, or if I should bother trying at all."

He crouched down so they were more eye-level, and Laurel found herself swallowing again in fear. The sword in his hand was suddenly thrust outward, and Laurel closed her eyes to prepare herself for the pain, but instead of being stabbed death, it stopped just short of her chest. She felt her necklace shifting a bit, and opened her eyes to see the tip of the blade instead playing with the medallion hanging from the strap.

"Maybe I should just kill you now," he continued. "You're a pretty little thing, and it would honestly be doing you a favor. Better a quick death than whatever Fyers and his men have waiting for you."

A flash of anger ran through Laurel, though she wasn't quite sure she was driving it. Maybe it was the built-up stress from the Gambit, maybe it was the fear that she was once again at another man's mercy, or maybe she was just sick of everyone seeing her as helpless. Whatever the case was, it gave Laurel the strength to dislocate her thumb, slip one arm out of the zip ties restraining her, and punch the man right in the face.

There wasn't much force to the blow. Laurel was reasonably fit for a young woman her age, but she was weak and malnourished and had just suffered torture. When it connected, she barely moved his head. He fell silent, however, and stopped playing with her necklace, so that was something at least.

For a moment, Laurel believed she had finally signed her death warrant.

And then the man laughed.

"You've got some fire in you!" he exclaimed, looking a bit wild and delighted. "Maybe you have it in you to survive here after all!"

Laurel frowned. "That's great to hear. Could you untie me now?"

"Sure," he said, and reached downwards for the ties around her ankles first. "The name is Slade, by the way. Slade Wilson. And you said your name is Laurel, right?"

"Yes. It's actually Dinah Laurel Lance, but I usually go by Laurel since my mom is named Dinah too."

"Right," Slade said slowly. "And you're a castaway?"

The young woman nodded.

"Well, let me tell you this now — your time here isn't going to be anything like Robinson Crusoe. Things are lot more dangerous here than that."

"Trust me," Laurel said, flashing back to her torture at Fyers and Wintergreen's hands. "I know."

He peered down at her thoughtfully. "Yeah. I guess you would, wouldn't you?"

"So you chose to sail with your boyfriend's billionaire father from home to China to save on air fare, and somehow ended up here," Slade shook his head. "That is an insane amount of bad luck."

Laurel shrugged half-heartedly, mindlessly flipping through the book Robert had given her before his death. She had kept it with her in her backpocket, and for whatever reason Fyers hadn't seen a reason to confiscate it from her. Probably because the pages were blank; the only discerning mark was a strange symbol made of criss-crossing lines embossed on the back of the front cover. She hadn't been able to recognize it, and considering it had to do with Starling, it was likely Slade or Yao Fei wouldn't either.

"You'd think a yacht belonging to one of the one percent would've been a little more high-quality," the Australian continued, probably finding some kind of amusement out of the perverse irony.

"The quality of the yacht probably wouldn't have mattered," Laurel noted, frowning down at the book. There almost looked to be writing on the pages, but she couldn't really see it. "Mr. Queen—Robert's last words indicated that it was probably sabotaged. Why, I can't say though. He was being a little confusing, and then he killed his bodyguard and then himself to make sure I survived."

That actually caused Slade to blink in surprise. "You've had a rough couple of weeks, haven't you?" He almost sounded sympathetic.

His companion glanced at him, and nodded. "And I doubt it's going to get any easier." She closed the book, and set it aside. "What about you? How'd you end up here?"

Slade leaned back, his expression hardening. "I'm an agent for the ASIS. Australian Secret Intelligence Service. My former partner, Billy Wintergreen—"

Laurel hissed, causing Slade to give her a knowing look. "I take it you've met ol' Billy?"

"He's the one who did the actual torturing while Fyers was trying to interrogate me."

A click of the teeth. "I can't say I'm surprised," Slade admitted. "Being on this island tends to bring out the worst in people."

"I can't imagine him being any kind of a good person," Laurel said in response, twirling a lock of her hair, "but then again our only interaction saw him torturing me, so I guess I can't be called an expert."

That statement received a chuckle. "Yeah, I guess so," the ASIS agent mused. Then his gaze darkened. "He was my best friend. I even made him the godfather of my son Joe. And then we were sent here on a mission to rescue Yao Fei. He's a former Chinese general whose own country deliberately shipwrecked him here."

"What? Why?" Laurel knew that national governments were not lily white, China's especially, but why shipwreck him? She had no doubt the actual intention was to kill him, and Yao Fei had survived despite the odds.

"Because they framed him for a massacre they perpetrated nine years ago. They didn't want him blowing the whistle. About a year ago, Billy and I were sent to rescue him, but our plane was shot down before we could land using the island's airstrip by Fyers and his men. That over there is the wreckage of what's left." He nodded towards the makeshift habitat he had been using.

"So how'd Wintergreen end up working for Fyers?"

"Because Fyers made us an offer when he captured us. We could either join his cause or be his prisoners. I refused, and Billy accepted." Slade spat something out to the side. "My best friend and the godfather of my son sold me out and left me to rot in that camp for over a year until Yao Fei managed to save me. And if there's anything that taught me, is that you can't trust anyone."

It was a sobering tale. Laurel didn't say anything in response, and simply looked away.

Starling City

She was always so heavy when she woke up these days. Like a lead blanket had been thrown on top of her over the night, every night, and the first thing she had to do when she opened her eyes was push it off. At least it wasn't because of a hangover this time. Sara had been starting to get sick of the headaches.

After cleaning herself up, Sara was torn between going downstairs to get something for breakfast from the kitchen, or just crawling back into bed and going to sleep. Ever since her breakdown in the wake of her almost-DUI, she had been completely listless. She honestly didn't know what to do with herself anymore. Even class wasn't an option — between her constant absences and depression in the wake of her sister's death, her parents had taken the prerogative to request a temporary leave for her for the rest of the semester. So Sara was technically home-free until the next semester started, and that was only if she chose to go back to college at all.

Most of her didn't want to. She hadn't been passing her classes, it all had been too much hard work, which is why she started skipping. Laurel would've been disappointed if she knew, but Laurel wasn't here anymore, was she? And if she had known what Sara had been planning to do while she was gone, she would've been disappointed anyway.

Eventually, her stomach decided for her. Sara trudged down the stairs, still dressed in her sleeping clothes, her hair in slight disarray. She ignored her parents sitting at the dining table and headed directly for the pantry, taking out a bowl for cereal and some cornflakes, before heading to the fridge get some milk. Behind her, Quentin and Dinah exchanged a worried look.

"Sara," Dinah started, speaking carefully. "When you're done, your father and I would like to talk to you. Is that alright?"

Honestly, it wasn't. But they'd tried wearing her down if she said no, and Sara didn't have the energy to deal with that today. So she swallowed her latest scoop of cereal and nodded, and tried to ignore the relief she saw on both of her parents' faces.

Once breakfast was over, her parents guided her to the living room and sat Sara down in one of the love seats, while they took the couch. They angled their bodies so they were facing her, clasping each other's hands. It was a bit of surprise to see; Sara knew her parents were having their own issues over the past several weeks, ever since the shipwreck. Her father's drinking had ensure she wasn't the only one that was being difficult. What had prompted their reconciliation?

"Honey, your mother and I have been talking for the past couple of days," her father started, swallowing slightly. "And we both agree that you have been dealing with a lot, and it's been causing you to act out for these past several weeks." Ever since Laurel's death, was what went unsaid.

"So we were thinking that you should consider the idea of therapy," Dinah continued, speaking carefully.

Therapy? Sara was aghast. They're kidding, right? "No way," she said, lip curling in anger. "I don't need a shrink. I'm not crazy."

Quentin shook his head. "We're not saying you are, sweetheart," he said gently. "But you do need help. Remember what happened after you crashed your car, when we brought you home?"

The youngest Lance looked down. She remembered very well.

"Your sister… L-Laurel — she wouldn't want you to be like this, honey. Whatever issues the two of you had, you loved each other. It would've destroyed her to see you falling apart like this."

That was true too. For all Sara had resented her sister, she never doubted for a moment that Laurel cared. Probably far too much than she should have. It would've broken her heart to know her death was causing Sara so much pain.

But still… "I'm not going," she declared. "It's not like you are." Sara wasn't the only person here who needed help, after all, but it's not like her parents were ever going to admit it themselves.

Her parents exchanged another look. "If we go, will you?" Quentin asked seriously.

Sara couldn't mask the surprise on her face when she heard those words, and answered the question before she could really think about it. "I would," she admitted, and to her further surprise, it was the truth.

"Then that settles it," Dinah spoke, getting up and heading to her home office. "We're getting a family therapist instead. I'll start researching immediately."

Oh my God, they're serious. What the hell? "Wait a minute, we're actually doing this?"

Quentin sighed, and reached forward to grasp his daughter's hand. "You're all we have left, Sara. We can't lose you like we lost Laurel. And if this is what we need to do to ensure you get the help you need, then this is a small price for us to pay."

Sara didn't know what to say. She didn't know if there was anything she could say. So instead, she just pulled her father forward into a hug, and let herself breathe in his familiar scent. "I miss her so much, Dad," she confessed, her voice choking up.

"I know, honey, I know," her father replied, and it took her a second to realize he was choking up too. "I miss her too."

Thea Queen stomped across the hardwood floors of her family's mansion, a furious pout on her lips. She gave a polite nod to their long-time maid, Raisa, before throwing the door to her brother's room open. Her stupid, jerk-face, promise-breaking brother.

Just as she thought, there Ollie was, sleeping on his bed in the clothes he had been wearing yesterday. Probably another hangover. Thea's hands curled into fists as she went over to the side of her brother's bed, briefly taking in a look of his snoring expression before grabbing the sheets he was sleeping on. With all of her strength, she pulled, watching in spiteful glee as he was forcibly rolled off his mattress with a surprised yelp and landed on the floor. Served him right.

Ollie popped up from the floor with a groan, rubbing the back of his head. "What the hel-heck, Speedy?"

The younger Queen rolled her eyes and glared at him. "You blew off movie night."

Almost immediately, her brother's face fell into the familiar lines of guilt. "I'm sorry Thea," he apologized. "I… I just wasn't up to it."

"We were going to watch one of Dad's favorites," Thea reminded him, and she couldn't help slightly choking up at that. It was still hard thinking about how… how her father was dead.

Oliver didn't say anything to that, though his expression became even more shame-filled. Good, his sister though vindictively. Her brother had been a real jerk lately. This hadn't been the first time he'd blown her off.

"What are you even doing these days, Ollie?" she couldn't help but ask. "Laurel's… Laurel's gone," and didn't that hurt to say, Thea still couldn't believe she was gone too, like Dad, "and all you do is go out with Tommy and party now." Which, granted, he tended to do a lot of even before the Gambit, but now it was practically every night.

"I know, Speedy. It's just… it's something that's helping me deal with everything."

"Yeah, but you never spend time with me anymore because of that."

Oliver cringed, before smiling shakily. "Then how about I set aside some time for us later? Just the two of us, I promise."

Thea scowled. "Don't bother," she shot back. "You'll just skip out on me again, and we both know it."

With that, she turned around to leave, leaving behind a wounded brother in her wake.

Laurel meets Slade, and they have a different dynamic compared to Oliver and Slade's relationship on the show. Slade has more respect for Laurel than he does for Oliver since she's marginally less useless than Oliver is and considerably less spoiled (and thus less whiny). The different circumstances of their meeting, namely Slade encountered Laurel while she was extremely vulnerable and in need of serious help, also played a factor. All of this will be important later, though how I'll keep to myself.

Oliver, meanwhile, is dealing with a lot of crap right now. The grief over his father and girlfriend's deaths is clearly getting to him. He's beginning to realize how much he took Laurel for granted and it's affecting the way he interacts with people. And of course, his desire to forget everything means he's not really being the brother he needs to be for Thea right now.

The Lances are taking the first step to healing, something they never managed in canon. This is because of two factors. First, Dinah isn't suffering from the guilt of secretly letting one daughter go on the Gambit and betraying the other, meaning she's better able to serve as the family's support. She's still grieving heavily for Laurel, but the loss of that element means she doesn't feel the need to run away from everything.

Secondly, Sara is lashing out far more than Laurel would have in her place. Laurel is the type of person to throw herself into work to not face her grief and present herself as if everything is fine. That's likely what she did when she got word of Oliver and Sara's "deaths" in canon. While that's fine, we all have our ways of dealing with grief, it did have a negative effect. Because of that, her parents didn't feel they had to really help her and watch out for her in the aftermath, allowing them to focus on (and be absorbed by) their own problems.

But Sara, prior to the Gambit (and after, when she finally started seriously recovering from her trauma), is a far more emotional person whose main outlet is partying and debauchery instead of work. That means the red flags in her behavior are far more obvious, culminating in the DUI from last chapter. With her problems so "in your face", her parents can't ignore them, which ironically means they're better able to process their own issues for the sake of helping her.

Next Chapter: Laurel and Slade infiltrate Fyers' camp and encounter another potential ally.