Athena and the League of Assassins (An Arrow: Season 3 Fanfiction)

Chapter 5: The Denial

The Arrow and I crept through the halls after our previous altercation with Lacroix. We soon came face to face with him, Arrow holding his bow up, Lacroix holding his bow up, and I holding up my daggers at the ready to kill if needed. 

'So you're the Arrow. And Athena. I thought the two of you would be taller,' Lacroix remarked. 

'It's over,' the Arrow said. 'Drop your bow and live.'

'We both know that's not going to happen,' he replied. The three of us fought, trading blows, until finally the Arrow and I gained the upper hand, fired an arrow into Lacroix's arm and sent him reeling to the wall. Yanking the arrow out, the Arrow came forward and I ripped off his mask. 

'Who hired you?!' I demanded. 

'Who is she?' the archer asked. The both of us whirled around to see Laurel Lance standing there, her 9mm handgun pointed directly at Lacroix, ready to fire any minute. 

'You don't want to do this,' the Arrow said, walking close to Laurel, but still minding the gun. 

'Yes, I do.'

'Killing him won't bring her back.' 

'I know it won't bring her back, she's dead!' Laurel yelled, her hands shaking with the gun, eyes filling up with angry tears. The Arrow walked closer. 

'I have stood where you are right now; where you're so consumed with rage you can hardly breathe, and you think that taking revenge will make it better, but Laurel... it won't.'

'It only makes it worse, Laurel. Put the gun down,' I said, trying to assuage the situation, but I knew it wasn't going to work. 

'No, he murdered Sara!' she yelled bitterly. 

'Who's Sara?' the archer asked, still slumped against the wall. 

'My sister, you son of a bitch,' Laurel said, walking towards him, still aiming the gun. 'Two nights ago, you put an arrow in her chest.' 

'Two nights ago I was drunk in Bludhaven.' 

'You're lying,' she snarled. 

'I'm proud of my work. I wouldn't deny it.'

'Even with a gun in your face?' she taunted. 

'Laurel, you need to stop and listen to him,' I said. 

'No. No, he killed my sister.' 

'Laurel, Sara wouldn't want -' 

'Don't you dare tell me that this isn't what Sara would have wanted!' she yelled, her hands shaking more. 'Don't you tell me to think of her, because I am thinking of her!' 

'Laurel, if you pull that trig-' He was stopped by the clicking of the gun, indicating it was empty. Sirens sounded in the distance as she looked in horror at the Arrow. 

'You took the bullets out of the gun.' 

'We have to go,' the Arrow said, grabbing Laurel's arm, me following behind. 

Several hours later (in a cemetery)...

Diggle, Oliver, Felicity, Roy, Laurel and I stood around Sara's grave, the headstone saying: SARA LANCE. 1987 - 2007. Loving daughter and sister. 

'She can rest now,' Oliver said softly. 'She's home.' Felicity walked forward, grabbed a handful of dirt, and tossed it on the wooden casket. Upon mine and Roy's confused looks, she explained. 

'It's a Jewish custom. I know she wasn't, but it feels right.' Then Oliver did the same as Felicity, and so did I. When I'd finally wiped the dirt from my hands, Oliver turned to Laurel. 

'Laurel,' he said softly. 

'No, this isn't right,' she said, her voice thick and heavy with grief. 'This isn't - it - she doesn't even get a fresh grave? It's so perverse.' 

'She deserves a proper burial. She's earned it.' 

'No, it's not fair!' Laurel spluttered. 'No one will ever know who she was. Oliver, it's not fair. It's not fair!' Oliver pulled her in for a hug, gently cradling her in his arms, stroking her hair. Diggle walked forward. 

'Laurel, we'll know.' She disengaged herself from Oliver to look at Diggle. 'I know this doesn't count for much, but me and Lyla, we're naming the baby Sara. We will never forget.' 

'Thank you.' 

Later (at the hideout)... 

Oliver sat alone, staring at that same lonely table that Sara's cold, lifeless body once laid on. That was, until Diggle and I came up to him. 

'I'm going to catch whoever killed her,' Oliver said. 

'I know you are. And until you do, I'm back on the team.' Oliver met Diggle's eyes. 

'But what about your family?' 

'Sara is family, Oliver. Just like you, man. And Evelyn.' 

'So now what?' I asked him. 

'Now we got to go get Thea,' Oliver replied, meeting my eyes this time. 'It's long past time she came home.' John walked over to a shelf. 'John, Evelyn.' We turned to look at him. 

'I don't want to die down here,' he admitted, his voice still carrying lingers of grief from the past few days. 

'So don't, Oliver,' John replied.

Elsewhere, Laurel hugged a worn toy shark to her chest, then picked up the small jacket that Sara had given her before she left with the League, the same one that she'd been wearing on the night of her death. 

In another place, Diggle watched over his baby girl Sara, playing with her teddy bear in her crib, looking at him with wondering eyes. And he smiled down at her. 

In another place, just outside of some shipping containers, Roy was looking at his phone, seeing a photo of him and Thea together. Pocketing the phone, he walked away. 

In Queen Consolidated, Ray Palmer was walking out of the building, after the altercation with Simon Lacroix had been done and over with, when he stopped in his tracks to see Felicity Smoak walk through the door. 

'Hey,' he said awkwardly. 

'Hi,' she replied. 

'You changed your mind?' 

'I just decided I wanted more out of life.' 

In a large island town called Corto Maltese, Malcolm Merlyn walked into a large mansion-like building to see someone taking on two opponents with sticks. Clashing, parrying, blocking, striking. The person took them on with ease. When the person had struck her two opponents down, the person turned to see Malcolm clapping slowly. The person came to a slow stop in front of Malcolm, breathing heavily. 

'Well done,' he remarked. Thea Queen pulled off the headgear she was wearing. 

'Thanks, Dad.'