A quick reminder that this is the last chapter of Laurel's five years away. I haven't finished planning Season 1 yet (been working on another story), so you're going to have to wait on that front.

Until then, please enjoy the chapter, and remember to update the TV Tropes page!

Starling City

Thea Dearden Queen popped her head through the open door of her brother's bedroom, watching quietly as he worked furiously on some paperwork at his desk. Work for the Foundation no doubt, though she was wondering when he was finally going to get around to naming it. They couldn't just keep calling it 'the Foundation', after all.

Her time at high school had smoothed out into something comfortable ever since that fateful, ill-fated birthday of Tommy's. Having taken Oliver and Sara's advice to just be herself, she joined several clubs, including the school's archery team. There, she found several like-minded people who shared her interests and finally found the friends she had been seeking. From there, she began to thrive, keeping her grades high, her life constantly busy with various school activities and archery practice, with the team advancing to Nationals every year ever since she joined.

Next year was her senior year and that meant she was going to be busier than ever. Already Thea's mind was on colleges, debating where and when she wanted to go. She was undecided, but there was time — she was even considering the possibility of a gap year to expand her horizons a bit more before pursuing college in full.

But as busy as her life was going to be in a few months, Thea was never too busy to bother her brother. "Hey, Ollie," she said, stepping inside, hands clasped behind her. "Whatcha doin'?"

Oliver turned to her and yawned, rubbing his eyes. "Just organizing some papers, Speedy."

"For the Foundation?"

Her big brother nodded. Thea leaned against the doorway, tilting her head. "How's that going, by the way?"

"Well," Oliver told her, slowly smiling. "Really well. I've been working with QC's charity arm to get things up and running, and Sara and Tommy are contacting various charity initiatives throughout the Glades to pitch in or at least coordinate with us. We've also begun posting information about it online to get some donors, hiring contractors for the renovation… it's a lot."

Thea frowned. "Do you have a tentative date for when you're up for operation?" she asked.

"Late summer to early autumn, according to our best projections."

Huh. That was earlier than she thought it would be. "That's good. Hey, do you think it's okay if I go volunteer there sometimes with my friends? We can do tutoring or something." Volunteering always looked good on college applications and she honestly liked the idea of giving back to the community, and many of her friends felt the same.

Oliver hummed. "We do plan on offering tutoring as part of our initiative, and we could always use volunteers for that," he mused.

That caused Thea to smile. "What are you guys planning on naming this place, by the way? You can't keep calling it 'The Foundation', it's too generic."

There was a pause as her older brother fell deep in thought. Slowly, his own smile began to spread across his face. "I think I have an idea of what it could be," he said, "but I need to run it by the Lances and Tommy first. I don't think they'll mind, though."

The Lances? I get Tommy and Sara, but why would he need to ask Mr. and Mrs. Lance… Thea's thoughts trailed off as her eyes widened in realization, and her smile grew a touch softer and wistful.

"If it's what I think it is, I don't think you have to worry at all, Ollie."

A few days later, Oliver and Tommy were invited for dinner at the Lance home. It had been a while since such a thing had happened; they used to do it a lot as kids, whenever their parents were too busy but still wanted to give Raisa the night off. The invitations died off as they grew into adulthood and were able to start eating out on their own (not to mention Quentin's general disapproval of Oliver and Tommy's turn to debauchery), but had been gradually revived over the years in the wake of the Gambit and Oliver's turn to the straight and narrow. Oliver and Tommy's support for Sara during her break up with Alex had only endeared her parents to them even more.

Quentin was the one who opened the door, greeting them with a smile. His relationship with both boys had improved a lot over the years due to shared grief over Laurel's death, though he still disapproved of Tommy's partying lifestyle very heavily. "Come on in," he said. "Dinner's just about ready to be served."

The place settings were already on the table, along with the food. The two young men greeted the rest of the Lance family, Dinah and of course their best friend Sara, before seating themselves at the dining table. Food was spread around, and everyone dug in.

The conversation veered towards catching up with what the Lances were up to. Sara, of course, was working with them on the Foundation and in her second year of med school. Dinah was teaching classes at the university as always, and Quentin was immersed in detective work. "You three need to be careful in the Glades at night," he warned them, grunting. "The mob has been really bolstered over the last few years and they have a strong presence in that neighborhood."

"Will they make trouble for the foundation?" Oliver asked seriously, ignoring the pointed look Tommy was giving both Sara and him.

The older man shook his head. "I doubt it," the detective admitted. "The city needs to be healthy for them to thrive, after all, and you can't fleece people who don't have money to take. But you can't be too careful, either."

That made sense, in a twisted kind of way. How Quentin dealt with that kind of stuff, Oliver would never know. It made him glad he never went into law enforcement or anything like that. "Speaking of the foundation," Oliver said, diverting the direction of the conversation to something much lighter. "I'm going to be filing the paperwork soon to legally establish it as an entity. Which means it needs a name. And I've been considering this for a while now, but I was wondering if it was okay with all of you if I named it after Laurel? It'll be called the Dinah Laurel Lance Foundation, if that's the case."

The words rushed out of him. He had been nervous about this for days, and now that the moment was here, Oliver was a bit scared to see their reactions. They wouldn't be offended, would they?

There was a brief silence as his words registered, and then a gasp. Dinah began to cry, and both Quentin and Sara had shiny eyes. Even Tommy looked stunned and touched. "We'd like that very much, Oliver," the college professor replied tearfully, speaking for her entire family.

"Yeah," Quentin added, swallowing. "Thank you, Oliver."

Oliver glanced at Sara, who was biting the corner of her lip. "Sara?"

"I'd like it too, and I'm grateful as well, but… Ollie, what about your dad? The steel mill used to be his, didn't it?"

Is that it? Oliver smiled and waved it off. "My dad is already getting QC's new Applied Sciences Center named after him, and the company is more his legacy than anything else," he told her. "He's already getting honored. Laurel deserves to be honored too, and the foundation is something more along the lines of what she would have done."

"That's true," Tommy said, speaking up for the first time since the topic changed. He was giving Oliver a proud smile. "She would've loved doing something like this."

It was all the approval he needed. Oliver felt his heart beating hard, and he closed his eyes for a moment. This way, you won't ever be forgotten, Laurel, he thought, determined. I hope that, wherever you are up there, you're proud of us.

London

I'm getting really sick of waking up like this, Laurel thought with a groan, her body on fire with pain. At least this time she was waking up in a bed, instead of a mat on the floor. She looked down at herself, seeing herself changed out of the black mini dress Shiva had forced her to wear and now in a slightly more conservative white tank top and shorts. She was bandaged just about everywhere, and she could feel the oily sensation of ointment on her skin.

"I was right to bring you along."

Laurel sighed and glanced to her side, where Shiva was watching her, seated next to her bedside. She had her legs crossed, and was eying Laurel like she had been searching for the other woman all her life, and had finally found her. "You have the spirit inside you," Shiva continued, eyes completely trained on Laurel. "The spirit of a true warrior, of a creator and destroyer, much like myself."

"What do you mean by that?" 'Creator'? 'Destroyer'? Weren't those just nicknames?

"Let me ask you this, Little Bird: what did it feel like to fight all those men? Didn't it make you feel strong, alive?"

It was a weighty question. The vigilante swallowed as she thought back to those frightful minutes when she had been fighting for her life against what seemed to be an endless army of goons, and found, much to her surprise and distress, that Shiva was startlingly close to the truth. Something that must've shown on Laurel's face, judging by the small smile the older woman had.

"You and I are kindred spirits," the master declared. "Like me, you live and thrive for combat. It is bone-deep, woven into your very soul. Remember that, Little Bird."

If Laurel had been disturbed before, she was almost in a panic now. The way Shiva was looking at her… and her words. Laurel didn't want to admit it, but they had a note of truth in it. If there was anything Laurel enjoyed learning these past four and a half years, it was learning how to fight. Combat lessons were the one thing she had never shied away from, not after she met Slade and especially not after she met Shado and saw what the other woman was capable of.

First, of course, it had been because learning how to fight was the difference maker between life and death when she was on Lian Yu. Either Laurel learned, or she died. But even with that, some part of Laurel just wanted to learn and learn more. Even in the League, where the tutelage was brutal and often lethal, combat had been what she 'enjoyed' the most, if she could enjoy anything at all there. Same with Bruce.

She enjoyed learning how to fight. And more than that, she loved fighting in itself. But did that really make her just like Shiva?

"Become my student."

What? Laurel blinked, startled, and stared at the other woman. Shiva looked deathly serious. "I will teach you everything you could ever possibly need to learn to be a martial artist like myself. A true master. As you are now, you can fight off thirty men — but after I am done with you, you'll be able to fight off three hundred."

It would be a ludicrous claim coming from anyone else, but this was Lady Shiva. The greatest martial artist in the world. Not only had she learned from the best, she had taught the best as well — Bruce was proof enough of that. If she said she could make Laurel that great, then Laurel had no reason to doubt her words.

The offer was tempting, so tempting. Part of Laurel wanted to accept it. But logic won out in the end, and she thought it over a bit more carefully. Shiva's offering of tutelage always, always came with strings attached, a price that needed to be paid. Typically it was a duel to the death with Shiva herself, a year after the initial completion of the training. But that was with someone that was a baseline human. Laurel was enhanced.

It was very likely the price would be different. And considering what kind of training Shiva was implying she would put Laurel through, what she would make Laurel into, the price would be high, higher than Laurel would like. To say nothing of the fact that whatever training she would have to undergo would take months or more, and she couldn't afford to waste that much time anymore. Not only did she need to establish Black Canary's alibi throughout the country before she returned home as herself, but she had been gone from all her loved ones for almost five years now. She couldn't bear to be away from them any longer.

"No," Laurel said, refusing the offer, surprising Shiva for the first time since they had met. There was a small part of Laurel that found pleasure in that — the part that was terrified that Shiva would retaliate for her refusal, perceiving it as some kind of slight. "I'm honored you'd think I'm worthy of your tutelage, Lady Shiva, but I have things to do, things that can't wait. I don't have time to undergo whatever training you have in mind for me right now. I hope I haven't offended you with my choice."

Shiva observed her for a long moment, before smiling sharply. "You haven't offended me at all, Little Bird," she replied, voice velvety. "The offer remains on the table. You may take it up any time, and I do not doubt that one day you will. There will come a day when you will realize that you need to unleash your full potential as a warrior to achieve your goals, Dinah Laurel Lance, and when that day comes, I will be waiting."

With that final word, she got up to leave. She reached into her jacket and took out a slip of paper. "The address to the airfield with the plane that will take you back to the States," Shiva told her. She turned to leave but paused, and turned back to Laurel. Fast as a mongoose, she darted forward and jabbed her neck with two fingers.

"Your Canary Cry," she explained, and then she was gone. As the door closed behind her, Laurel leaned back into the bed and sighed.

Seattle

Laurel returned to the United States a few days later, her injuries completely healed from whatever mysterious ointment Shiva had used on her. Doing her best to put that honestly hellacious encounter out of her mind, she continued her cross-country trek, going to the south like planned, before moving up to the west coast. Black Canary continued to get consistent press, some flattering, some not, but hardly a concern.

And then, after months of travel, she ended up in Seattle. This time, when she went to the designated safe house, it wasn't empty — someone was already there, waiting for her.

"Hey there, birdie," Selina Kyle waved with her signature cat-like smile from her spot on the couch. "How was the road trip?"

"Eventful," Laurel answered honestly after a moment of thought. "Though I guess Bruce already told you all about that."

"Indeed he did. Ready to pass the baton? I've already got my own suit and Canary Cry," Selina told her, twirling a high-tech collar around her finger. The public was still under the impression that Laurel's Canary Cry was the result of technology, and everyone wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Laurel nodded. "Spend a week or two here as BC, and then you're free to go to Starling. Meanwhile, I'll be heading back to my other 'home'."

Selina tilted her head. "The island, right? I thought you hated that place — why would you ever call it home?"

Why, indeed. Laurel closed her eyes as several memories passed through her head. Some good, a lot of bad, but in the end all essential to shaping her into the person she was today. Whether she liked it or not. "Because as much as I hate it, it's a part of me now. And I've made my peace with that." Much like everything else in her life.

Lian Yu

The weeks passed. Laurel did one last run through Seattle as the Black Canary, before putting away her suit and equipment for a while and handing it off to Selina, who would store it in what would be Laurel's base when she finally returned to Starling. After some debate, she opted to give her the List as well; better for whoever was behind to believe it had been lost at sea with Robert Queen than with her. All she was taking with her was the Hozen, something that could've conceivably been found on Lian Yu, and of course her Canary necklace.

And then, it was back to the island itself. The first thing she did after touching down was head directly to the graves of Yao Fei and Robert and pay them her respects. Now that her journey was nearing its end, it seemed only fitting she'd pay tribute to the two men who had made sure she would make it to this point. If only Shado could be here with her as well.

"I'm almost home," she told Robert's grave in particular. "I promise, I'll tell them that you loved them. And I will stop whatever conspiracy that was behind your death. No matter what."

She bowed towards the graves once more and then headed to the fuselage. Time to settle back in.

Once all her things were properly stored and she was done scavenging (or in some cases, making) the proper tools she would need to survive the next three months, Laurel started doing a trek around the island, trying to re-familiarize herself with the terrain. She paid particular attention to the ground, trying to remember the signs that indicated a buried landmine — one of the worst dangers of Lian Yu.

What she found instead was startling. Laurel stared at the burnt-out field, eyes wide. "What the hell?" she whispered.

She walked across the edges of the field, only to begin pinching her nose as a putrid smell entered her nostrils. Against her better judgment, she followed the direction from where the smell came and flinched back when she saw the source: a mass grave.

Several still-rotting bodies were piled together in a massive hole that had been dug up. There had been an attempt to re-bury the bodies, but it had been done poorly, and Laurel could still see a few limbs and heads sticking out of the dirt. It was honestly horrible, one of the worst things she had ever seen, and that was saying a lot. What had happened here?

When she returned to the abandoned plane later that night, her head was spinning. Laurel had spent the entire day investigating that side of the island, trying to figure out what had happened there, and she didn't like what she was seeing. All the evidence pointed to an abandoned military operation of some sort, one that had not just done severe damage to the island's ecology but had also mounted a high body count. To say nothing of the strange, empty, and open cavern that ran deep but held nothing. There was blood there, several signs of a fight of some sort, but no bodies. Laurel suspected they were part of the mass grave as well.

Who could be responsible for all this? Part of her wanted to know, but part of her didn't. And why? What could be worth so much death and destruction? Whatever the case, it happened while she was gone from the island, and the people involved were either in the ground or long gone. She wasn't going to find out here; she could only hope it would never come back to haunt her later down the line.

Instead, she took out her map of the island, drawn partly from memory and partly from whatever information Barbara had managed to scrounge up with her research. Laurel took out a pen, a leftover from Fyers's camp, and deftly marked off the section of the island where the burned field and mass grave were. That place set her nerves on fire — better to keep away from there, and just stick with the forest instead.

More months passed. Her hair grew longer, dirtier, as did her clothing. Her diet once again became fish, game, and whatever vegetation she could find. Whenever she wasn't hunting for her next meal and getting clean water, Laurel was training. Meditating, practicing katas, even scavenging for weapons, and practicing with those as well. Anything that would help her keep her skills sharp.

And then, finally, the day came. She had brought a calendar with her, carefully marking down the days every morning. Waiting, almost agonizingly, for the one where she would finally get to leave this place behind her for good. Leave, and finally go home to everyone she loved.

The night before she was due to leave, Laurel packed her things, deciding what she'd take with her and what she'd leave behind. Then, she made one last visit to Yao Fei and Robert's graves, setting down some flowers she had picked on both. A final goodbye.

In the morning, she grabbed her pack and trekked to the spot where the fishing trawler that Bruce had arranged to pick her up would be sailing by. There was already a beacon built there, one of the first things she had made upon her return. When she made it to the beacon, she took out a pack of matches, ones that she had kept dutifully dry, and set it on fire.

The people on the trawler noticed immediately, of course. They found her waiting on the rocks, and Laurel conversed with them in their native Mandarin easily, explaining who she was and why she was on the island. A few hours later, Lian Yu was gradually growing smaller in the distance, while she was seated on the boat, a blanket around her shoulders and her bag sitting next to her.

It was over. After five, long years, it was finally over.

A few minutes later, she was given a phone. Laurel stared down at it for a long moment, gathering her courage, before inhaling a deep breath, and punching in a phone number. One she knew by heart.

One ring. Two rings. Then…

"Hello?"

Starling City

Detective Quentin Lance, both physically and emotionally exhausted, entered his home and immediately headed for the couch, loosening his tie along the way. He flopped onto the cushions with a groan, throwing his jacket to one of the side chairs. "Why do they always send me to these things?" he asked the world.

In front of him, his wife Dinah and daughter Sara exchanged amused looks. The three of them had just come back from a charity ball for the SCPD. Quentin had been required to go by his bosses as a representative for his precinct, while Dinah and Sara had opted to go with him to try the fancy food. Needless to say, they had enjoyed their time there far more than he had.

"Easy, Dad," Sara said cheekily. "You're the one who managed to get his daughters into the fancy prep school and got suckered into courtesy etiquette lessons by the staff."

Quentin groaned again. "Don't remind me," he said sourly, laying his head against one of the throw pillows.

The Lance woman soon left him on the couch to go upstairs and store their things. Now that the ball was over, they could get rid of their pinchy heels and remove their jewelry before heading to bed. Quentin was about to go join them after his nerves had settled before the sound of the house phone ringing caught his attention. "I'll get it!" he called up the stairs before heading to pick up the call.

"Hello?" he grunted, a little curious. Who could be calling at this time of night?

"Dad?" a female voice replied, and Quentin's heart nearly stopped. "Is that you?"

"I'm sorry, I think you might have the wrong number—"

"No, Dad! It's me! It's Laurel!"

Quentin froze, and then a surge of rage coursed through him. A fucking scammer, seriously? How dare they! "Look, lady, I don't know who you are, but you have some nerve trying to impersonate my daughter like that and besmirch her memory!"

His piece said, he pulled the phone away and was about to hang up when the woman's voice came on again, "Sara had a stuffed shark when she was a kid and she still keeps it in her room."

Huh? "Have you been stalking us?" the detective demanded. "Because if you have, I'll have you know that I'm a detective for the SCPD and—"

"She also had this annoying canary she kept as a pet. It sang all the time, keeping us up all night until we finally convinced her to let us get rid of it. And me — you refused to let me join the police academy, said it was too dangerous. That's one of the reasons I started dreaming about becoming a lawyer instead. I was hoping to one day join the DA's Office, maybe even become the DA myself one day. Oh, and the day I met Ollie he punched out Paulie Marcus for calling me—"

Quentin paled with every word being spoken. There was no way, it couldn't be…

"…Laurel?"

There was a pause over the line, and the words that followed were watery. "Yeah, Daddy. It's me. I-I didn't die when the Gambit went down. I'm alive."

It was a miracle. A goddamn miracle. Quentin felt tears build in his eyes as he clutched the phone receiver tight, suddenly feeling more alive than he had in five years. "Baby, oh my baby," he cried. "Where are you?"

"I don't know," Laurel admitted over the line. "Not exactly, at least. But… I'm on a boat. They're taking me to the mainland." She swallowed. "I'm coming home."

That was it. The tipping point. Quentin felt himself break down into joyful sobs, having never felt so happy in his life. His little girl was alive, and she was coming home. He had never felt so blessed in his life.

"Quentin?"

His sobbing paused, and he turned to see his wife and other daughter staring at him in concern. "Quentin, what's wrong?" Dinah asked, stepping forward.

Quentin stared at them both, open-mouthed and silent, his tears sliding down his cheeks. Then, he went to the phone and turned on the speaker. He pulled the handset away and waited, and wasn't disappointed. "Dad?" Laurel's voice echoed through the now-silent living room. "Dad, where are you? Are you there?"

Both Dinah and Sara gasped at that voice. "Laurel?" Dinah asked, hopeful.

"Mom, is that you?"

A wail of happiness and relief escaped the older woman as she all but ran towards the phone, Sara hot on her heels. "Yes, baby, it's me!" she cried. "Laurel, oh Laurel!"

"I'm here too, Laurel!" Sara added, having also begun to cry.

"Sara! Oh, Sara!" They could hear Laurel sobbing over the line as well. "I'm alive, I'm alive. It's me, I promise it's really me. Just please, don't hang up!"

"We won't, honey, we won't," Quentin promised to her for all of them, still crying. God… thank you. Whatever, whoever allowed this to happen, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Laurel was alive. She was coming home. For the past five years, that was all Quentin had ever wanted, and now that it was finally here, he could safely he had never been happier in his entire life.

And thus, we're finally here.

Laurel's home! And boy, a lot has changed in her absence. She's got a charity foundation named after her, for one, and I'm wondering how many of you saw that coming. Shiva offered to train her, but she said no — for now, at least. I won't say more on that front.

Her alibi for BC has been fully established as well, which means that it's going to be very hard for anyone to connect her to BC, putting her completely in the clear. She found the remnants of Shadowspire's little operation, and that will play a role later on since she wasn't there to interfere with that particular mess. And now, she's home.

This means we can now move on to Season 1. Whenever I get around to that. You'll just have to wait a while for that.

Until then, I hoped you enjoyed my depiction of this AU. Please, remember to update the TV Tropes page!