White Wolf (Laurel Lance)

Acceptance.

AN: This is a filler But I promise I'll work on the next chapter after this.

April 2016

Star City

A week after Quentin's Death.

Oliver took a deep breath before knocking on the door of Laurel's apartment. It's been a week since Quentin was killed and Team Arrow tried to call Laurel individually but they could only reach to her voicemail so Oliver decided to take matters into his own hands.

The door opened and Laurel was standing in front of him with a backpack in hand. He sighed in resignation, having a idea of where she was going to and it was not Bahamas. She was going to find another Lazarus pit to bring her father back.

"Get out of my way." Laurel said not in the mood for any argument.

Oliver shook his head slowly. He won't allow her for her own sake. "No."

"I won't ask you again." Laurel snarled lowly but Oliver remained firm in his stand.

"No."

Laurel huffed before throwing the backpack away, turning her back on him. "Who sent you? Was it Thea? John? Or Felicity?"

"I came here by my own accord." Oliver replied, Laurel scoffed, not believing him. "And I also want you to know that I understand what you're going through right now."

His sincere words seemed to fell on deaf ears as Laurel picked up the backpack that was a few feet away from them and walked past him."No you don't. You didn't have a father who gave up his life to save you so you're in no position to tell me that."

Laurel was wrong on that one. He of all people had been in her position before. "Yes he did." He admitted, causing her to freeze at the doorstep with a surprised look.

"What I told everyone about what happened nine years ago... that was a lie." Oliver confessed, he walked to her cautiously as Laurel turned around to face him. It was never easy to tell the graphic details of what really happened, even now but he felt it was necessary to make her understand. "After the Gambit went down, Dad and I both made it to the life raft with a crew member named Dave Hackett. We drifted for days. When my father realized that there was only enough food and water for one person, he pulled out a revolver and shot Hackett first and then he pulled the gun on himself. Laurel, I understand what you're trying to do, really I do but it's not gonna work. Your father is dead."

She shook her head in dismay, trying to push the harsh truth out of her mind. "No. He's not. He's not. He's gone." When she said it out loud, she froze in shock. It was as if she realized what she had just uttered. "He's gone."

Then the floodgates had been opened as Laurel crumbled to her knees, crying her eyes out as Oliver embraced her in an emotional hug. Her gutwrenching sobs echoed through the apartment into hallway as her mind accepted the reality. Quentin Larry Lance was dead.