So Luke has at least read Ella's fanfiction, does that mean that he is also a superfan or does he just read because he likes Ella? Or does he like to be in the know about what's going on in the fandom?
Our writers room headcanon was that Luke’s eventual goal wasn’t to become a writer or creator like Ella or Marina, but to become an executive and eventually, the head of a TV network or studio.
So he would consider it good research / part of his job to be in the know about what’s going on within the show’s fandom generally, but he doesn’t come from a fandom background and he doesn’t see it through the same positive lens that Ella does. For Ella, fandom is a magical thing. For Luke, it’s a useful tool for marketing.
Luke is very utilitarian in his approach to his work / life in general - we imagined he’s a great assistant, but hard to get close to so not too many people would consider him to be a good friend.
As far as why he reads Ella’s fanfic specifically - I think at first it’s out of trollish curiosity, because she’s so different from him and frankly, annoying, and this is one way to annoy her back. Then, idk, I think he secretly enjoys reading it for a number of reasons.
E1!Layriver and coming home (specifically after 11:59)
So I’m just gonna say I know the prompt meme said ficlet/drabble but this got...a bit out of hand. Hope you don’t mind a longfic for this one, not to mention a fixit au!
It wouldn’t have caught his eye if it hadn’t been so soon after, but as it was the photograph made him stop at the front desk.
His newly appointed personal assistant looked up. “Mr. Queen?”
Oliver blinked. “Uh, sorry. Would you mind if I took a look at this?” His fingers tapped the front page of the paper sitting there with that picture in the upper-right corner.
“No, go right ahead.”
He took it and continued on to his office. There were already forms on his desk, but Oliver sat down and unfolded the paper instead.
ER doctor wanted for questioning
Accompanying the headline was that photo, the one that had stood out to him. Because he recognized this particular doctor. She had been Laurel’s doctor.
If she was wanted, was it because she’d helped them? Even if public opinion about vigilantes was currently mixed, he couldn’t just let that happen. Yet as Oliver read further, it became clear that wasn’t the case.
Suspected for taking bribes. Connections to laundered money. What was going on?
He took up his phone and dialed.
“Hello?”
“Felicity? Have you seen the paper?”
“Uh, no. Technically I have a digital subscription, so I wouldn’t be seeing a paper — but that’s not what you meant.”
“The ER doctor who treated Laurel is wanted for questioning by the police.”
“Oh. That’s bad.”
“We need to find her.”
If she was an innocent, then they owed it to her to help clear her name. If she wasn’t, then he had some questions about the level of care she truly afforded her patients.
He thought again of the promise Dr. Schwartz had made that Laurel would be fine. The suddenness of the embolism. True, things could honestly be missed, but how closely had this doctor been keeping a watch on things if she’d been busy accepting bribes? And for what?
It didn’t take Felicity long to track a location. Schwartz had shown up on a traffic cam just outside the city limits. The only thing of note in that direction was a roadside motel. Clearly she was planning to lay low for the time being until the police interest died down and she could make her next move.
Too bad. He was making his first.
It was almost too easy to open the single window in Schwartz’s room so he could slip inside.
“Oliver?”
He paused. Felicity had been planning to go out that night; if she was still in the base, it was probably important.
“Did Schwartz move?”
“No, but I got into the SCPD files on the case. They’re working with the federal government on this one, because the money put in her account — well, it’s been traced back to HIVE.”
HIVE. He hadn’t expected to hear that name ever again after Darhk had been killed. But his efforts to infiltrate and corrupt the city had been extensive. It made perfect sense Darhk would have had influence over every public institution he could, whether through bribery or threats.
“Oliver, if Schwartz was paid off by Darhk and was Laurel’s doctor—”
“It can’t be a coincidence,” he finished. His hand clenched around his bow. “I’ll get the truth out of her, Felicity. Good work.”
“I can stay on the comm,” she said. “I’ll just ask Billy for a rain check.”
“No, you should go. I can handle this.”
He was done asking Felicity or any of the others to put their lives on hold for him. And truthfully, Oliver wanted this confrontation to be just between him and Schwartz. It was personal. When it came to Laurel, it always would be.
He waited just over half an hour, still as a statue as night slowly fell outside.
Schwartz unlocked her door and trudged inside, only to gasp and spin around in his direction.
“You!”
“Yes.” Oliver didn’t bother with disguising his voice. She already knew exactly who he was. “Damien Darhk. How much did he pay you to kill Laurel Lance?”
“Kill? I didn’t kill anybody.”
An arrow embedded in the door right where her hand had been about to reach kept her from getting ideas about leaving. To further make his point, Oliver began to circle around her, placing himself in the way of escape.
“You told us she would pull through. The next minute, she’s seizing from an embolism. When did Darhk make the call? When did HIVE order you to do it?” He took a step closer. “I know you took their money. Don’t try to tell me that you didn’t do their dirty work for them.”
“I took the money, yes, but I’m not a killer! I didn’t kill your friend, please, you have to believe me,” Schwartz begged.
He took out an arrow. “But you were working for the man who did.”
“No, no, please.” Schwartz had both hands raised as though that would offer her any protection. “I know I shouldn’t have taken the money. I had so much debt—”
“I’m not the judge,” he said, nocking the arrow on the string.
“She’s alive!”
Oliver froze. “What?”
“Laurel Lance. She’s alive,” Schwartz gasped. “She survived the stab wound, you were right.”
“But the embolism—”
“It was fake. They paid me to fake an emergency so they could take her. The staff helping me weren’t with the hospital. They were his people. They switched her out for a double — I don’t know where they found the body, I swear,” Schwartz explained in a rush. Her hands were still raised.
He wasn’t sure if any of this was even real anymore, but Oliver demanded, “Then where did they take her?”
“I don’t know! All I had to do was give them the time to switch her out. That’s all I knew. I got my first payment a month after. The second never came.”
Because Darhk was dead, what remained of his ghosts scattered to the wind. Was there even a way to know she was telling the truth?
And if she was...then Laurel—
Oliver stowed the arrow back in his quiver. “Give me everything you have that tied you to them. Contact numbers, names, anything.”
He couldn’t let himself think it just yet. He didn’t know if he could come back from discovering Schwartz was wrong.
The base was still empty when he got back from the motel. That was good. He didn’t want to discuss this with anyone until he had tangible proof. Even if the clock had to be ticking.
If Darhk had had Laurel taken captive, it must have been for some part of his plan that was scrapped after Ruve’s death. What if he had given the order to have Laurel killed in retaliation? What if his men had done so after he had been killed and they had no use for her?
Oliver worked into the early morning, back-tracing the information Schwartz had given him as far as he was capable. He lost Darhk’s pointman on this mission somewhere after crossing the Rockies.
He’d be expected at the office soon. Oliver frowned, thinking through his options. Eventually, he picked up his phone again.
“Oliver, not all of us are public servants who need to be up this early,” Felicity groaned after the second ring.
“You’re awake.”
“Yeah, well I made Billy some coffee before he left — which was more information than you needed to know.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. But this was familiar, comfortable. He was relieved things had gone back to how they used to be between the two of them and that Felicity was happier. “What I do need to know is where some of Darhk’s former ghosts are now. I tried following the trail from Schwartz, but—”
“You hit a wall? I can trace them. What are we doing this for specifically?”
Oliver paused. He hadn’t thought of an alternative reason. But he also couldn’t bring himself to get her hopes up, or to have his crushed when she told him Schwartz had to be lying.
“They still have some of HIVE’s supplies. Weapons.”
“Why does this feel like when you used to ask me to do things without telling me it was for vigilante purposes?”
Oliver was thankful this was over the phone so she couldn’t see from his face how true that was. “I just think it’s important to tie up any loose ends this time. Make sure something isn’t going to come back to bite us.”
“You mean like Malcolm always does?”
He grit his teeth together. “Yeah.”
Felicity’s sigh came through loud over the phone. “I’ll get on it. Soon as I’m actually awake.”
“Thank you.” He knew it would be suspicious to urge her to hurry, yet it was hard to end the call there. Harder still was preparing for and going into work that day. He couldn’t even pretend to be focused on the papers on his desk. All he knew was that there was the smallest, most impossible chance that he hadn’t lost her, that there was still time.
He tried to imagine it. Laurel, alive and returned to them the way Lance had been hoping when Evelyn stole her costume. Lance would have back the rock he desperately needed. They all would. Thea wouldn’t be so alone in the apartment. John wouldn’t have to keep carrying that guilt over Andy’s actions. The team could be whole again.
And as for him? He couldn’t count the number of nights lost in dreams where Laurel had healed and come home from that hospital. Where she had been by his side as always helping to bring Darhk back in. Where her smile as he accepted the appointment of interim mayor was near-blinding with radiance. Where she loved him, and he loved her.
He could say the words back this time. He could show her she was the great love of his life. But only if Schwartz was right. Only if he made it in time.
Oliver left the office early and barely avoided speeding on the way back to the base. His foot tapped impatiently on the floor of the elevator as it descended.
“Felicity, what do you got?”
She swiveled around in her chair to face him. “I’ve traced them up to about three nights ago.”
“How far east does that put them?”
“Actually, that was your problem. They doubled back after reaching Midway City, which is where you lost them. About three weeks after everything was over here.” She turned back and pulled up another window on the computer screen. “Their most recent stop was in a gas station outside of Opal City. Looks like they were still traveling west.” Felicity looked up. “Maybe they’re coming back?”
That didn’t make sense. If they had Laurel, they wouldn’t just bring her back without some way of leveraging the situation in their favor. A random notice, something. But if they were traveling west...
His expression hardened. “They’re heading to the shore. Felicity, I need their location now.”
“Oliver, what’s really going on?”
He was already marching to his case for his suit and shook his head. “There’s no time to explain.”
He couldn’t afford to waste a single second, not when it meant the difference between finding or losing Laurel for good.
—-
What stood out the most was the stench. She couldn’t even remember how long it’d been since she’d last had a shower. Of course, it was hard to know how long it had been at all when she was chained to the wall of a shipping crate and blindfolded whenever she was brought out of it for her single bathroom break of the day.
None of that was the worst part.
Laurel had done her best to listen in whenever she could. It was Darhk’s people holding her hostage, though that much had been easy to guess on its own. Back home, everyone thought she was dead. She couldn’t even imagine what her father was going through right now. She’d never wanted to put him through that. And what about the others? The team, her sister, Oliver?
She’d been such an idiot to tell him the truth. What good would it have done? What did he have to be going through, thinking she was dead after that kind of confession? She knew the kind of pain that could cause, the marks that left on a person even if they couldn’t be seen. Laurel could only hope the others were there for him, that they’d all managed to find some form of happiness and moved on.
In the last two months, the talk amongst her captors had changed. Darhk was dead; how, she didn’t know. But that left whatever threads of his plan hanging. Including her.
Laurel knew she had a very short window of time left. There were arguments most nights about what to do with her now. How best to get rid of her.
The first few weeks of her captivity, she’d still been too weak from her wound to attempt a workable escape, though upon waking she’d struggled as much as she’d been able. They were clearly aware of her abilities as well, and she was never allowed a moment alone where her hands weren’t chained down.
That couldn’t stop her forever, though. She’d started off by scraping the edge of one of her cuffs along the floor, sharpening it into something she could use. The next step was one she had to be careful with, because if they noticed her progress it would be all over.
Laurel had been steadily cutting at the chain holding her with the sharpened cuff, as close to her arms as possible so she could better hide it whenever someone entered the crate. The chain was about a meter long and was fed through a metal loop bolted into wall before fastening over each of her wrists at either end. If she could break it, she’d have both arms free and a potential weapon.
There were cuts all over her wrist she could only hope weren’t infected, some deeper than others. It was hard to see with her arms stuck behind her, and misses happened especially during those long stretches between the pathetic meals they afforded her.
But she could deal with those consequences later. Right now, her first and only priority was escape. She was the only person who could make that happen. No one else even knew she was alive, much less where she was.
Laurel had woken to the taste of saltwater heavy in the air, what little of it filtered through the air holes of her crate. They’d reached a coast. She was going somewhere, and she didn’t imagine it was anywhere she’d like. Escape had to be now. Who knew how long it’d take her to find her way home if she was taken out to sea?
She slowed her cutting attempts as the sound of footsteps approached, and Laurel held her breath while straining her ears.
“...want to see what I’m buying.”
“She’s not in the best condition. We’ve had to keep her chained up. She’s too strong, otherwise.”
They were selling her. Her breath quickened without her say so, and Laurel began taking mad swipes at the groove she’d cut into the chain.
“This photo shows her off better.”
There was an agreeing hum from somebody. “How do I keep her from fighting back if she won’t be chained?”
“By the time you’re across the Pacific, she’ll have given up. She hasn’t even tried fighting us in weeks. She knows no one’s looking for her.”
“Couldn’t even send the father a ransom note,” a third voice claimed. “He’d skipped town with his girlfriend.”
Laurel did her best to shut the voices out and focus on freeing herself. It wasn’t her father’s fault. He thought she was dead. He was doing what he needed to do to keep going. Everyone was. She hadn’t been left.
There was a rattle as the chain snapped in two, falling to the ground. Laurel sat up and listened. The men had stopped talking.
Before she could decide what her next best move was, a yell of pain sounded some distance from the shipping crate. Then another. And another, closer this time. And if she listened…
She knew that sound. Arrows flying through the air.
Laurel’s heart leapt into her throat and she stood, pulling the chain free.
People were shouting outside and guns were firing, but the most important noise was that of the padlock on the crate rattling. Laurel hugged the wall and moved closer, the chain held between both her hands as she watched the lock rattle.
“Shit, shit,” one of her captors burst through the door with a ring of keys in his hand, blinking at the spot where she was supposed to be. “Shit!”
Laurel stepped out from the wall, throwing the chain over the man’s neck and pulling him back tight. “Drop the keys,” she hissed in his ear.
He did, both hands going to pull at the chain. Laurel released him first, kicking him forward into the opposite wall. He smacked against it and crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
She bent down and scooped up the key ring. She’d need it later. For now, she crept to the door with the chain held tight between both hands again, peering out into the night.
Laurel couldn’t hold in a gasp. Bodies littered the ground, arrows sticking out of chests or backs — and they were green-tipped.
“Oliver…” This couldn’t be him. Could it?
Another howl of pain beyond the next row of crates had her running, though it was a pitiful effort compared with her usual. She rounded a crate to find a man in a suit who she didn’t recognize on the ground, clutching at his leg. An arrow had pierced through it, and another embedded in the top of a crate as the Green Arrow zip-lined down. He didn’t even pause to speak as he took out another arrow.
Laurel darted forward. “No!”
It was Oliver that froze and looked up at her. Oliver’s eyes that widened behind the mask. Was it coincidence that he was here? Had he not even known she was?
She took halting steps forward, bringing herself level with the man that would have bought her. “He’s a trafficker. He’ll have information about other women and girls that prosecutors and human rights organizations need.” Laurel took a final step to put herself between both men. “And this isn’t you.”
The arrow he’d meant to draw back in his bow slipped from his grasp. He drew in a breath, but whatever he meant to say seemed stuck.
There was the rustle of cloth behind her, and Laurel spun around, Nyssa’s training sharp in her mind, to crack the man over the head her wrist cuff. He dropped to the ground like a stone, knife falling harmlessly from his fingers.
“Typical,” she muttered, wincing as she rubbed at her wrist with her other hand; the cuff had scrape over half-healed cuts, some of them reopening.
“Laurel.”
She looked back over her shoulder. Oliver was watching her with both pain and wonder in his eyes. His fingers twitched where they hung at his sides.
“Yeah, it’s me.” She faced him again, but her eyes lowered to the ground as she added, “Sorry about...all this.”
“Laurel, you are the last person who needs to be sorry.” He places both hands on her arms, and when she glanced up his smile was delicate but beautiful. “You’re alive.”
He pulled her into his chest, arms enfolding her, and her breath left her in one shaky whoosh of air. The weeks or maybe months of stress and fear and loneliness were over. Oliver was there, real and solid and holding her back. She was safe.
“How did you find me?”
“Schwartz confessed. The doctor in the ER,” he clarified. “Darhk paid her to help them fake your death.” One of his hands rose to cup the back of her head. “I almost didn’t make it.”
“But you did.” Her hands shifted at his back, and the chain still hanging from her wrist rattled with the movement.
They both pulled back, and Oliver looked her over for a second time, his smile fading.
“I took the keys,” she said, holding out the ring. “Not sure which one works.”
“Here.” He took a gentle hold of one of her arms, testing out each key in the lock until he found the right one. The cuff over her wrist fell with a clatter. When her reached for her other arm, his expression darkened as his thumb rubbed over the cuts.
“Who did this?”
“I did.”
He looked up at her in shock.
“I had to cut the chain, and it was behind my back, so sometimes I missed.” She shrugged, looking away as she added, “It was the only plan I had.”
He unlocked the second cuff and placed both hands on either side of her face, leaning forward to press his lips to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I should have figured this out sooner.”
“Well, Darhk died, so it wasn’t as if he could’ve told you,” Laurel remarked. Oliver went still, and she looked up at him. “How- how did he die?”
A distant siren caused them both to turn and look. The police must have been alerted to all the noise from the fight.
The way she clutched at his suit was at odds with her own words. “You have to go.”
Oliver frowned and nodded. “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
“No!” She hadn’t meant to sound so sharp, and she looked down, the mess of her hair hanging over her face. “I mean, I’ll just go to the station with them. I’m sure they’ll have questions.”
“Laurel, you’ve been through too much to be interrogated right now. You’ve been starved, you’re probably dehydrated, and someone needs to take a look at your arm.” He bent down to meet her eyes. “I promise, I’m not gonna leave your room for a second. Not even if they try to force me. Nothing is going to happen to you there.”
She drew in a shaky breath and nodded. The sirens were growing louder with each second. “You need to go. Now.”
Oliver pulled away from her, looking as though it caused a physical pain. She had to wrap her arms around herself to avoid reaching out. He took another arrow with a line on the end and shot it into the top of another container. Then he was rising up and over the top, disappearing into the night.
Red and blue lights washed over her as a squad car rounded the corner. Laurel lifted both hands into the air as the driver and passenger doors opened, two cops getting out with their guns unholstered.
“I’m unarmed! Please help me, these men have been keeping me captive since April.”
“Stay right there, Miss.” One of the officers slowly approached her while the other went to the still unconscious trafficker. “What’s your name?”
“Laurel.” She cleared her throat. “Dinah Laurel Lance. I’m sorry, I don’t have any ID. Where are we?”
“Just outside of Coast City, Laurel. You say these men abducted you?”
She nodded. “Except him. I think he was planning on buying me.”
The officer looked to his colleague, who stared back in shock. “I’ll run his driver’s license. See what we can find.” She turned to Laurel and stood back up to full height. “Have they abused you, Laurel?”
She shook her head. “Mostly I just didn’t have enough to drink or eat. I, um, cut my arm trying to escape.”
“We’ve got arrows! Green ones, like that Star City maniac,” a third voice proclaimed as another officer walked into view. Laurel winced; it had been a while since she’d heard Oliver referred to that way.
“How many dead?” The first officer asked.
“Seven, and there’s one unconscious inside a shipping crate.”
Seven men. Oliver had killed seven men. Why? What had happened while she was gone?
“Should the victim be taken to a hospital, Jones?” The second officer asked, eyeing Laurel. She’d probably mistaken her distress over Oliver’s return to killing for a more general upset.
“Yeah. Yeah, Martin and I’ll finish up here. You stay with her.”
“Right. If you can come with me to the car, Laurel.”
Laurel followed after her police escort, arms folded over her chest once again. She was free, but somehow life only seemed to be more complicated than before.
Oliver had found her, had held her in his arms with a tenderness she hadn’t thought to hope for in a long time. But why were seven men dead? And where were the others?
—-
Oliver paced back and forth in the hallway outside Laurel’s room. This was the closest he was being allowed while a doctor and nurse did their preliminary diagnostics, but he was confident in his position. He had the only door to Laurel’s room covered, and he was keeping a mental tally of each and every person who entered and left through that door. Darhk’s men were gone, but he was done taking chances any longer.
He was tempted to ask Felicity to run background on the entire staff of the hospital, but that would involve actually telling her what all this was about. She knew he was in Coast City, that he had been down by the docks, but that was about it.
Oliver knew he should text her and Thea, that he should find out if they had some way to contact Lance. But this still felt so new, so fragile. He had to see her again first, he resolved. Then he could confidently tell the others this was real.
“Mr. Queen?” A nurse poked her head out into the hallway, and he stopped his pacing. “You can come in.”
Laurel was in a hospital gown again, which was hard to see, but she was sitting up and totally alert. There were bandages around her one arm and an IV inserted into the other.
“Hey.”
Laurel’s smile was a little tight as she looked up at him. “Hey.”
He glanced between her and the doctor, a little uncertain. “Is everything okay?”
The doctor nodded. “She’s been deprived of nutrients and water, but there shouldn’t be any lasting effects once properly treated. We’ve dressed and bandaged the cuts on her arm, and she’ll be taking an anti-bacterial medication to ensure there’s no chance for infection.” He glanced down at Laurel. “You’re certain about no painkillers?”
“Yes. I, um, I’ve had a history with them.”
“Ah.” The doctor made a note on his clipboard. “Then we’ll just proceed with the treatment plan as-is.” He looked up and afforded them both a pleasant smile. “We’ll give you both a moment.”
Once the door was shut behind him and the nurse, Oliver took the chair at her bedside. “Was everything okay with the police?” He’d noticed an officer sniffing around the front desk, but Laurel obviously wasn’t under lock and key here.
“Yeah. They didn’t ask too many questions.” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she added, “Probably because they were more worried about the bodies Green Arrow left behind.”
He couldn’t meet that gaze, and he couldn’t find anything to say.
The bedsheets rustled as Laurel sat forward. “Ollie...what happened? This isn’t who you wanted to be anymore.”
“No, but it’s who I have to be. It’s the only way to stop what happened — what almost happened to you from happening again.”
“You killed Darhk.” It wasn’t a question.
“I know that’s not what you would have wanted,” he said quietly. He’d already admitted as much to her grave. Which was no longer her grave.
“Then why do it at all? Killing Darhk wouldn’t have brought me back to life if I’d really been dead. Killing other people wouldn’t do the same either.” She wasn’t yelling, yet somehow that was worse. Because he knew she was right.
“I’ve tried doing things the right way, Laurel. The way you would have been proud of, or Tommy. But all that does is just give people like Darhk another chance to hurt others.”
“And what about the hurt you’re causing yourself? I don’t believe this doesn’t weigh on you.”
He shrugged. “I can handle it. There was already too much darkness in me to be some kind of hero. It’s better for everyone else if I stopped pretending to be one.”
Laurel was silent for a moment, though when he looked up, she was frowning. “Where exactly did you get that idea?”
“An immortal sorceress in Hub City told me.”
She blinked, but worked immediately to school her features. “Well, just because she’s immortal doesn’t mean she knows everything. What about the others? The team, what do they think about this?”
He grimaced. That question was bound to come up at some point, but he didn’t have much to tell her that she’d like to hear. “The team is kind of over.”
“What?”
“It’s been hard, Laurel. Without you. A lot went wrong, and a lot of decisions had to be made. Thea doesn’t trust herself to be Speedy anymore, your father took time away from Star City, and John went back for a fourth tour.”
“In the army? But what about his daughter?”
Oliver shrugged again, though this time more out of helplessness. “He’s dealing with a lot of guilt, and this is the only way he knows how to process it.” At her look, he explained. “Andy threatened Lyla and Sara. After he turned on us, and what we thought happened to you, John wasn’t willing to take the chance. He killed his brother.”
Laurel covered her mouth with one hand, eyes wide.
There was a knock on the door and it opened, revealing the police officer he’d noticed before. “Excuse me. They’ve finished pulling up your information, Laurel. It looks like you’ve been declared dead while you were missing.”
Laurel took her hand away to reply, “Yeah, my friend was telling me.”
The officer nodded. Then she stepped further into the room, shutting the door. “I was also hoping to ask you some questions about tonight, seeing as the vigilante called the Green Arrow was involved. You might be able to tell us more.”
Laurel’s head tilted. “Because I’m from Star City?”
It hit him a moment before the officer spoke where this was going, and Oliver felt a spike of horror go through him. What had he done?
“Because you’ve been named as a partner of his. The Black Canary.”
Laurel’s mouth fell open. “What?”
This was going to require some quick thinking. He couldn’t let her go to jail for a mistake he made. Oliver stood. “Actually, officer, I was the one who named Laurel—” he didn’t miss the way she whipped about to look at him and could only imagine the expression on her face. “—but I was mistaken. You see, we were having issues with a terrorist named Damien Darhk, and Laurel was the one who initially prosecuted him. When he broke out of jail, he had her abducted while paying off a doctor to fake her death, and I was led to believe by them that she was killed fighting him as the Black Canary.”
“And she wasn’t?”
Oliver shook his head, keeping his tone level and sincere. “No.”
“Why would a terrorist have wanted you to think she was?”
“People back home really love the Black Canary,” Oliver honestly replied, thinking of the proposal for a statue he’d signed only last week. “I think he hoped that by making us all believe she was dead, it would demoralize the city. As for what the vigilantes are up to in reality, I couldn’t tell you. The Green Arrow is the only one who’s been seen the last few months.”
The officer was frowning, but seemed to realize that was the only story she was going to get from him. She looked to Laurel instead. “Is there a reason the Green Arrow was there tonight?”
Laurel shrugged and rather expertly feigned innocence. “None that I’m aware. Damien Darhk was the one who had me abducted, so maybe the vigilante was following up on Darhk’s people? I don’t know if he knew I was even there.”
“I see.”
“If that answers your most pressing questions, officer, I’d appreciate if you let my friend rest,” Oliver said. “Laurel’s been through a lot.”
“I understand that, Mr. Queen.” The officer glanced between them, then turned and headed for the door. “I hope your recovery goes smoothly, Laurel.”
“Thank you.”
The door shut, and Oliver let out a breath. For a story on the fly, it would have to do, though some of the kinks would need to be worked out before they returned home.
“You told people I’m the Black Canary?” Laurel hissed.
“I — there was an issue with an impostor, and — pretty much anything you ask about, you’re not gonna like, okay?” He dropped back into the visitor’s chair. “Nothing good happened while you were gone.”
She didn’t look like she wanted to believe that. “What about Felicity?”
Oliver considered. “She came back to the team after you — after we lost you. She wanted to see Darhk finished. And she still helps out on the comms and everything now.”
“Well, that sounds good to me.” Laurel paused. “Have you two…”
He shook his head. “Felicity has a new boyfriend she’s very happy with.”
Her face fell. “Oh. Oliver, I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’ve always wanted Felicity to be happy, and it’s pretty clear that was never going to happen with me.” He looked down at his hands in his lap. “Making people happy hasn’t ever been my strong suit, Laurel. I can’t change who I am.”
The island hadn’t cured him of his lying or keeping secrets. If anything, it had made those problems worse, made it so that he lied and kept secrets because he didn’t trust. And Tommy’s death hadn’t kept him from killing, hadn’t taken that instinct away from him. Felicity was right that he would always be the same person, and that was why he was alone.
Laurel swung her legs over the side of the bed and leaned over to take both his hands. “But you did change, Oliver. You have. That doesn’t mean it’s easy or that once you’ve changed it’s permanent, and you can never fall back on your old ways. You just have to keep trying, and that’s something you’ve always done.”
“Trying isn’t enough.”
“It is to me.”
He looked up and met her eyes. Those same, familiar eyes he had known most of his life, that had taken on pain and hard-fought wisdom, compassion and love. It was humbling, to be looked on that way after all the intervening years and everything that had happened between them.
Oliver opened his mouth, swallowed, then tried again. “Laurel, what you told me in the hospital, before they took you...is that still true?”
Her breath caught, and her hands shook in his grasp for a moment.
The door opened yet again, this time to admit the nurse. “I’m sorry, Mr. Queen. I know the circumstances of Laurel’s case are unusual, but it is long past visiting hours and she needs to be resting.”
Oliver squeezed Laurel’s hands briefly before letting go to stand up and turn around. “I understand you have policies, but without meaning any offense, the last time I left Laurel alone in a hospital room, she was taken from me. I promised her I’d stay this time.”
The nurse sighed. “As long as it does not interfere with the patient’s ability to rest.”
“Of course.” He stood aside to allow her to help Laurel back under the bedsheets without disturbing the IV, which she also changed the bag for. He was fixed with a meaningful, no-nonsense look before they were left alone again, though not before the lights were shut off.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, and when they did he headed for another chair sitting in the corner of the room.
“Ollie?”
“You really should rest, Laurel. And I’m pretty sure she’s gonna kick me out if she even thinks we’re still talking in here.” He was hit with a serious wave of deja vu as he said the words, visions of a taser-wielding Lance dancing in his head. He barely held in a snort.
She rolled onto her side to face him, her knees curling in. How could someone so strong be simultaneously so adorable? “You don’t actually have to — you should get some rest, too.”
“I can do that here.” He made a show of tucking both arms behind his head and kicking his shoes off. “Goodnight, Laurel.”
God, he almost wanted to say the words over again, they awoke something so warm inside him. He wanted to be able to tell her that every night, for those to be some of the last words he said before sleeping.
“Goodnight, Ollie.” She shifted onto her back again and within minutes was breathing deeply. He couldn’t imagine the last time she must have gotten real, sound sleep.
A part of him was angry; at Darhk and his special brand of cruelty; at Schwartz and her willingness to go against her oath for money; at himself for not realizing the truth for so long, for making Laurel wait again.
But he knew that wasn’t what Laurel would want him to focus on. She was alive, unlike what he had thought, and she was safe now. They had her back.
And with that calming thought in mind, he drifted off to sleep himself.
—-
Laurel did not wake up until the nurse returned to take her off the IV and change her bandages in the morning. She felt somehow more tired and groggy after sleeping than she had the previous night. Probably a lack of adrenaline.
Oliver was asked to step out while the nurse set to work, and she was barely able to exchange a sleepy good morning before he did.
Laurel finally got her much-needed shower in between changing the bandages, and she stood under the hot spray for much longer than strictly necessary. It just felt too good to be able to run her hands through her hair again and be clean. It wasn’t coming back to life, but it was coming back to feeling like she should be among people again.
Laurel dried off, the cool air in the bathroom helping to wake her up. She poked at the dark scar on her abdomen from the stabbing that put her in this situation in the first place. It was the first time she’d really been able to look at it. It almost didn’t seem like a part of her yet.
There was a knock on the door. “I’ve brought you a change of clothes,” said the nurse.
“Thank you.” Laurel opened the door a crack to reach out and take them. They were more like pajamas, but better than the thin hospital gown she’d been in before.
She walked out and sat on the bed to let the nurse wrap her arm and give her a glass of water to take the anti-infection medication. Laurel drained the whole glass before setting it aside.
“Is Oliver still out there?”
“I think he’s trying the cafeteria coffee. Your breakfast should be here soon.”
“That’s okay. I’ll just go down there and eat.” She was tired of the small room, anyway, and she needed the walk to think.
Oliver had asked her about what she’d said before Darhk’s men had taken her. Whether it was true.
She couldn’t just lie. For one thing, that would make her a massive hypocrite. For another, she wasn’t sure he would believe her.
But what did that sort of confession do to their friendship? She didn’t want things to feel awkward or strained when they’d finally reached a sort of equilibrium. Not to mention how the others might feel.
There were a few people seated in the cafeteria when she reached it. Oliver was at a table in one corner facing the doors, and she caught his eye as she walked in. He was on the phone, so she continued to the line to get some food. By the time she joined him, he was still on the phone.
“I wanted to be sure before I told any of you. It wasn’t — yes, she’s fine,” he was saying. Laurel touched his shoulder briefly before sitting beside him, and he looked at her with a smile. “Better than fine.”
She fought back an answering smile of her own and mouthed, “Who is that?”
Oliver covered the phone with one hand. “Thea and Felicity are yelling at me on speaker phone. Apparently Felicity hacked the Coast City Police Department and your name came up.”
“You didn’t tell them?”
He opened and shut his mouth, then listened again on the phone. “Yeah, I’m still here. Look, I know. I know I always do this. You’re right. I just didn’t want any of you to have to go through this if Schwartz had been wrong.”
Of course he’d been planning to shoulder that pain by himself, if it had come to that. Laurel couldn’t even be surprised. That was just who Ollie was.
“Here.” She held out her hand for the phone, which he gladly passed over. Laurel put it up to her ear. “Hi, guys.”
There was a shriek and an exclamation of, “Oh, my God!” loud enough she was pretty sure Oliver still heard it.
“It’s really you,” Thea said, her voice sounding choked. “Laurel.”
She felt a pang in her chest even as she smiled. “Yeah, yeah it is. I’ve missed you all so much.”
“I’m so sorry, Laurel.” Felicity definitely sounded like she was trying not to cry. “I would’ve found you in five seconds if Oliver had actually told us that was what we were looking for.”
“That’s okay.” She snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He was watching her fondly, and she decided to try and help him out. “I’m okay, really. There’s nobody to blame here.”
“Except Dr. Schwartz,” Thea growled.
“Yes, well, she better have a good lawyer.”
“Which hospital are you checked into?” Felicity asked. “I’m looking up flight times.”
“No, you guys don’t have to come out here. I should be able to leave soon, and I just want to be home with everyone.”
“Are you sure? We don’t want you to be alone out there.”
“I’m sure, Thea. And I’ve got Ollie, so I’ll be fine.”
“Oh, he should probably make sure he’s back in the office by tomorrow morning. Unscheduled personal days for the mayor kind of make people nervous,” Felicity commented.
“The what?”
“Yeah, Ollie’s been named the interim mayor. Ruve kind of died in an explosion,” Thea muttered.
“Well. That is news to me.” Laurel was hesitant to ask if anyone they’d met in the last year was still alive, at this point. “If it’s okay, I’m gonna eat my breakfast now. I promise I’ll call you when we know more about when we’re leaving.”
“Yeah, of course. Please eat things,” Felicity replied.
“And come home once they say you’re better. Take care of yourself,” Thea added. “We love you.”
“I love you, too.” She had to wipe at the corner of her eyes after she hung up. It was so good hearing everyone’s voices again.
Oliver took the phone back. “You’re a miracle worker.”
“And you are a liar.” She cheated in on the bench to face him. “‘Nothing good happened’? Is being the mayor a bad thing suddenly?”
His eyes widened a moment. “Oh. Right.”
“Yeah. When was that gonna come up?”
He sighed. “It- it is a good thing, I suppose. I just...it’s been hard even noticing any of the good, lately. I wasn’t even sure about running once they get the election process started.”
“Why not?” She knew the passion Oliver had developed over the campaign was real, and that being forced to quit in the first place had been a hard blow even if it had been the only choice to make at the time.
He smiled for some reason, even as he shook his head. “I don’t know how to get through to you that nothing was the same when you were gone. I’m the Green Arrow and I’m the mayor, but I’ve just been...going through the motions. We all have.”
Laurel pushed her plate away, not really feeling hungry after all. “I know this is going to sound weird, but if I were actually dead, I wouldn’t want that for you. For any of you.”
“I know. I can only tell you it’s how I’ve felt.”
Laurel looked down. Feelings, right. “Oliver, about what you asked me last night...I meant what I said in that hospital. I love you. And that doesn’t have to change anything about how we are, or our friendship, because—”
“I love you, too.”
Laurel looked up sharply. “What?”
“I do. It’s one of those things that isn’t going to change about me, no matter how much I try or how little I deserve it.” His brow furrowed as he drew in a breath and continued, “The truth is, I never ran after you, Laurel. I was always running away. And I expected more than I deserved from you, more than I was willing to give back.”
She wanted to speak, but she had no idea where to start. It was hard, hearing him speak that way about himself, yet they were words she’d needed to hear for a long time now.
“But losing you made me realize how much I can’t do this without you. I need you in my life.” His lips twitched, just the barest of smiles. “From now on, that’s on your terms. As friends, partners...whatever you need me to be, I swear I’ll work every day to be that person. The man you fell in love with.”
Her eyes were stinging, and her chest felt tight. Laurel took a shaky breath, then threw her arms around him. He hugged her back, and it almost hurt how perfect a moment this felt. This sort of thing didn’t happen to her. But here it was.
“Ollie, I just need you to be yourself,” she said in his ear. “That’s who I fell in love with.” She leaned back and brought her hand to his cheek. “Past all the masks and the things you’ve tried to hide behind. You are a hero.”
His eyes were closed, and she wasn’t sure when she’d last seen him looking so peaceful.
Then his phone buzzed on the table again. His eyes blinked open, and Oliver sighed before glancing at the caller ID and answering.
“Yeah, Barry? It’s true. I’m with her right now.” Oliver smiled. “Yeah, it is great.”
Laurel felt herself smiling as well. It was touching to know that her friends cared that much. She reached to pull her plate back over, even though the eggs were definitely cold by now. She’d want to have something in her stomach before they started working on getting her discharged.
Oliver was still talking to what sounded like at least four members of Team Flash at once, so she took his free hand with hers under the table. He paused and looked at her, then leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek.
Laurel finished her food and leaned into his side. Even if she couldn’t wait to get back to Star City, she already felt like she was home.
singing "come on motherfucker, you survive,
you gotta give yourself a break"
but there's nothing i wouldn't do to settle up with heaven
(everybody lost somebody by bleachers)
put a "∞" in my ask box and I'll shuffle my music player and give you my favourite lyric from the song that comes up
1. Describe yourself how you would describe a character you’re introducing.
Okay, I have spent WAY TOO LONG THINKING ABOUT THIS.
The young woman is tottering on high heels she really shouldn’t be wearing in this weather, frigid wind whipping her red hair around her face as she hurries past people, avoiding eye contact and only offering strange half smiles, half grimaces at passersby. Her bright red lipstick brings out the paleness of her skin and the dark circles under her eyes. There’s an awkward kind of coldness about her that makes you think she fully believes she’s better than this Wal-Mart and the people in it.
(Long story short: I was literally just told that my anxiety can make me look like an asshole. Not great to hear but I 100% believe this. I can come off as cold and snobbish from a distance. For the record, I do not believe I am better than Wal-Mart. Or anyone. I’m just shy. And I do wear heels when I shouldn't.)
3. What is your absolute favorite kind of fic to write?
Angst. Pain. Sadness. The angstier the better. Also with a side of romance. For a long time, I didn’t have an explanation for this. I had no idea why I liked to put my faves through so much (especially when I complain so frequently about canon putting them through so much terrible and painful shit) but I think I just really like the idea of people going through pain and still managing to come out the other side and find their happy ending. I find it oddly comforting. Also, I just really love writing intense emotions.
6. First fic/pairing you wrote for? (If no pairing, describe the plot)
Oh my gosh. I don’t even remember. I want to say that it was probably something to do with BTVS/ATS. Most likely Angel/Cordelia or Cordelia/Buffy but I feel like I’m forgetting something. I have no idea what the plot would have been. If it was Angel/Cordelia, it was inevitably a season 4 fix it fic.
