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raywritesthings · 4 years

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Mended Hearts 3/3

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, Thea Queen, John Diggle, Quentin Lance, Barry Allen, Cisco Ramon, Henry Allen, Sara Lance Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: When Felicity refuses to take part in the plan to capture Cupid, Oliver must find something else to lure the love-obsessed archer in… or someone else. The trouble with the best laid plans is that they often have unintended consequences. *Can be read on my AO3 or FFN, links are in my bio*

Oliver’s heart plummeted as Laurel’s eyes slipped shut.

“Laurel, come on! You have to stay with me.”

The device stopped sparking and he finally managed to rip it off of her. Then he went back to cradling her head.

“Please, Laurel.”

Someone crouched in front of him. “Oliver, wasn’t it?” The only man he didn’t know here, but he had some of Barry’s features. God, Barry. He couldn’t believe his friend had just… disintegrated in front of his very eyes. “I’m a doctor. Let’s get her upstairs so we can see what she needs.”

Mutely, he nodded and picked her up. The last time he’d held Laurel like this, he’d been carrying her over the threshold of her apartment. He wished he could go back to that time, hold it close and appreciate it like he should have.

Dr. Allen directed him to one of the lab rooms. Oliver was forced back as the man felt around Laurel’s throat where an ugly bruise had already formed in the shape of the speedster’s hand. His own fists clenched, hating the powerless feeling he always got going up against what amounted to practically gods. Even if he’d had his bow and arrows on him, he wouldn’t have risked handing over a weapon the way he’d nearly done to Darhk mere weeks ago.

“We’ll need to run an x-ray, and then I need to help Wells with his daughter,” Barry’s father said. Oliver nodded numbly. He didn’t even know this new Wells had a daughter, or why she needed help.

“You might want to contact her next of kin, if any of them are aware of all this. In case some decisions need to be made.”

“Decisions?” It hit him a moment later, and Oliver swallowed. “I’ll call her father. But, um, please go forward with the x-ray and anything else you need to do until I can reach him. I’m her husband,” he said, voice cracking a little on the word. “I’ll take responsibility.”

Dr. Allen squeezed his shoulder, his eyes full of kindness and old pain. “I’ll do everything I can for her.”

“Thank you.” He was left in the room with Laurel after a short time, able to reflect back on what had happened for the first time.

Laurel had attempted to use the Cry device to destroy Wells’ machine like Oliver had requested, only it had gone wrong. She’d been struck by something, some kind of energy. But she’d seemed mostly unharmed as he’d helped her up off the ground.

Then that other speedster had appeared. At first to mock them for Barry’s demise, then singling Laurel our for some reason. He’d looked about to kill her.

But Laurel had reacted on some kind of instinct, screaming in his face. Only it hadn’t been like her normal Cry. It had sounded harsher, louder, and in that short burst he’d thought he’d seen something like rippling air.

The speedster had escaped long before it had had the chance to hit him, and Laurel had sunk to the floor, her device sparking with that same energy she’d been hit with. Now Oliver didn’t know what to think.

He needed to call Quentin. He knew that, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. How did he explain that after surviving Darhk, Laurel was now suffering some unknown injury thanks to a mistake of their allies?

“Hey, any changes?” A voice asked quietly in the doorway. He looked up and saw Cisco standing there with red-rimmed eyes.

“No. I think Dr. Allen’s waiting on an x-ray and some bloodwork.”

That got a nod. “I’m gonna work on her suit, cause she’ll need it,” Cisco told him with confidence Oliver suspected the engineer was forcing himself to feel. “But, uh, I found some personal items in her belt she might want someone to hang onto.”

Oliver reached out a hand to take what Cisco passed to him, only for his eyes to water anew upon seeing the items. The ring he had made her and the photograph he had once left behind. The letter in her desk wasn’t forgotten, wasn’t a mistake. She had kept them for herself.

He turned away from Cisco, a silent request to be alone that was fortunately granted. He took up Laurel’s hand in his, pressing the knuckles to his lips.

“Please wake up,” he murmured to her. There was so much he needed to say to her.

He was a coward. He should have asked her the moment he found the letter, not let it hang there between them this last month.

But he’d worried about being wrong. He’d worried about being right, too. How could Laurel still love him after everything? How did he even deserve it?

He didn’t, but in equal measure, Laurel deserved to be happy. If that happiness included him, how could he keep depriving her of that just to feel he was being appropriately punished for all the terrible things he had done in his past? All he’d ended up doing was hurting them both and seeking solace with a woman he truly hadn’t known as well as he’d thought he did.

“I’m so sorry,” he told Laurel. They could’ve had years by now, they could’ve been married without any pretext of needing to catch a criminal.

Movement in the doorway had him looking up again. Dr. Allen was back.

“I have some answers, but it’s caused a lot more questions. Cisco tells me she isn’t a metahuman.”

Oliver nodded. “That’s right.”

“Was she ever tested for the gene?”

“Not that I’m aware. She wasn’t in Central when the particle accelerator exploded. She’s never had any kind of powers.”

Dr. Allen nodded. “Then we might never know for sure, but the fact is she now has an active meta gene. If it was dormant before, I have to assume that the interaction with- with the reattempt to give Barry his speed triggered it.”

Oliver tried to wrap his head around it. Laurel, a metahuman? “And that’s what that was, when that other speedster attacked her?”

“We won’t know for certain until she wakes. Have you called her father yet?”

Oliver shook his head. “I was meaning to. I will. Um, thank you, Dr. Allen. Please get some rest if you can. I can’t imagine…”

But the doctor shook his head. “If I stop moving now, all I’ll be able to see is — well. I need to go check on Jesse again. Excuse me.”

Oliver say there for another minute or two, then got out his phone. He couldn’t keep putting it off.

Quentin picked up after a couple rings. “Oliver? Something the matter?”

“Yeah. Um, it’s Laurel. She was affected by this, uh, this experiment the Flash’s people were running. She’s stable but she’s not woken up yet.”

“Well, what- what kind of experiment? I mean what kind of effects are we talking here?”

Oliver took Laure hand again with his free one as he explained, “They’re not totally sure yet, but it had to do with the particles that, um, that create metahumans.”

There was silence for a moment on the other end. “Are you trying to tell me what I think you’re trying to tell me?”

“We won’t know for certain until she wakes up what’s happened. They don’t know when that would be. If you wanted to come out here—”

“I can’t. Wouldn’t look good to the IAB if I leave the city while under investigation,” he explained, regret clear in his voice. “Keep me updated. And look after her, alright?”

“I will. I—” He nearly spoke the words he was thinking, the words he hadn’t let himself say for such a long time. But it wouldn’t be right. He wanted her to hear it first.

“I care for Laurel very much,” he said eventually instead. “If I could have prevented this—”

“I know you would’ve. Listen, just…” Quentin didn’t speak for a moment; it seemed like he was weighing his words. “When all of this marriage business is over with, in a year or however long there’s left, you’ll be a standup guy about this, right?”

His heart missed the next beat. “What?”

“I mean you’re not just gonna disappear this time, right? Cause Oliver, I respect the man you’ve become. Don’t fall back on old habits.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t.”

“Well, good. You know, I may not have gotten to walk my girl down the aisle—” the slightest hint of ire in his tone made it clear this was something that, fake wedding or not, bothered him still. “—but I’m gonna be there for her every step of this divorce.”

Oliver swallowed. “I understand, Quentin.”

“Good. You get back to watching over her.”

“I will.”

He sat there for a long time, thinking over that last part of the conversation. Everyone, including Laurel, was under the assumption that their marriage had an expiration date. Even if she still cared for him that way, loved him, that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted to remain tied to him legally the rest of their lives, did it? She might not even want to be with him at all. Love didn’t fix all the things that he knew were wrong with him or the ways that he’d hurt her in the past.

He stayed by Laurel’s bedside as she continued to sleep, listening whenever Dr. Allen came back with some new piece of information or to run a basic check on her condition. Oliver was shown the x-ray which revealed an oddity in her larynx, one the doctor wanted to monitor to make sure it didn’t negatively impact her breathing.

He was told to get some rest, which for him meant leaving to make use of the bathroom before returning to sleep in a chair. Laurel remained unconscious through the night as far as he could tell. By morning he knew he needed to find something to eat soon, but he didn’t know what the lab had and didn’t want to head out into the city for that long. Not until something changed in her condition for the better.

He checked the news for Star. Nothing out of the ordinary and no mention of the team, which likely meant Thea and John had done little more than the basic patrol and interceding on any small crime they witnessed. One name in a headline jumped out at him.

Palmer Tech ousts Felicity Smoak as CEO

Against his better judgement, he clicked on the article. It contained statistics about the company from the last few quarters, the last one Ray had been in charge of versus when Felicity had taken over. From the little he knew of business, even he could admit it didn’t look good. If anything, it mimicked his own numbers as CEO. There was also a statement from the head of the board at the company.

“Our decision was based on a number of factors, but simply put, Ms. Smoak had not the experience nor the decorum to helm a company at the forefront of the age of technology such as Palmer Tech.”

Oliver winced. He was sure that had to sting. As upset as he had been with her the last few weeks, a part of him could look back on the friendship that had existed before their rushed romance, and he wondered if he ought to reach out. Then he remembered that all other evidence pointed to the fact that Felicity had blocked his number. He exited out of the article with a sigh instead. Maybe John would be able to do something for their former teammate, or Laurel might have ideas once she woke up.

Trying to focus on more productive things, Oliver borrowed some graph paper and started sketching out a few rough ideas and designs. He knew he needed arrows that couldn’t readily be turned into weapons for the use of his enemies, but how to still make them effective when he used them? Tranquilizers like John sometimes fired, or perhaps blunted tips like rubber bullets? He thought of his improvised use of a boxing glove to soften the blow when he’d once fought Laurel’s old teacher and smirked to himself. The idea of being able to punch someone without even being near them had a certain appeal hard to deny… he’d have to see what Cisco made of some of these rough concepts.

At some point during the wait, he received a call from an unknown number. He ignored it. Sometime later, Thea called.

“Hey, I just heard from the city council. They say they tried contacting you?”

“I’ve been — it’s been busy,” he said.

“Okay, well, they said it was kind of important. You know, Ruve’s office has been kind of quiet lately, since…”

“Yeah.”

“I’d call them back as soon as you can. How’s the new suit coming?”

“It’s, um, I haven’t seen it yet,” he said, glancing out at the empty hallway. He hadn’t seen Cisco for a while now. Or much of anyone.

“Ollie, is everything okay?”

He paused. How much did he really want to get into this?

Voices outside in the hall drew his attention. “Uh, let me get back to you on that. I’ll talk to you soon, Thea.”

Oliver hung up and started to stand, only to sit back down hard when Barry walked through the archway.

“Laurel’s in here?”

“Barry?”

His friend grinned at him, full of life. “Yeah. Sorry about the scare.” He then walked to Laurel’s bedside and touched her hand. A crease formed between his eyebrows. “I was hoping since it worked on Jesse... it must have been a different set of particles that hit her. She probably just needs more time to adjust.”

“You died.”

Barry shook his head. “No, just ended up in the speedforce. Iris and Cisco got me out.”

Oliver wanted to protest and say that was impossible, but then he was talking to a man he knew could time travel by running fast. He buried his face in his hands.

“I’m glad you’re back, I swear, this is just… a lot.”

“Yeah. But it’s gonna be okay. Zoom, I know I can stop him now. And Laurel will be fine, too.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because she’s a fighter. She wouldn’t be on your team if she wasn’t.” Barry was watching him with an easy smile when he looked back up, and his eyes were kind as he added, “Most people wouldn’t marry someone for the safety of others, but that’s just the kind of people you both are.”

Oliver took out Laurel’s ring, staring down at it rather than respond.

“You look like there’s a lot weighing on you, Ollie.”

He sighed. “Yeah. I don’t expect you to understand. For as long as you’ve known me, I’ve tried to ignore it or downplay it or — I don’t know. But Laurel, she’s…” He looked at her face, peaceful and so, so beautiful in sleep.

“She’s your first love.”

He turned back to Barry, who didn’t look the least surprised.

“Joe said once, it never really goes away. And maybe this whole wedding thing got away from you before you realized, but Oliver, all you can really do now is try.”

“I’ll screw it up.”

“Maybe,” Barry admitted. But his newfound confidence returned in the next instant as he added, “But that’s why they say for better or for worse. She’s stuck through it this far, right?”

Oliver felt himself return it with his own soft smile.

Barry was soon called away, leaving Oliver to those thoughts.

If he wanted — if he dared — a life with Laurel, the life she had believed they could have once, all he could do was try. It was as simple as that. He couldn’t ask for more than she might be willing to give, but he could ask. Someday, once he had proven himself worthy of it. And she deserved to be asked, to have a say in this.

If she would only just wake up.

---

Laurel couldn’t remember if she dreamed at all or not. All she remembered was Oliver’s voice calling her name, and then the feeling of a steady presence at her side through the span of time she’d spent in darkness.

Now she registered other things. A mattress at her back. The brightness of fluorescent lights even behind her eyelids and thin sheets covering her.

She could still hear his voice not far away.

“I understand that the decision needs to be made quickly, but I can’t leave Central City until I know my wife is okay. She’s in the hospital.”

Laurel licked at dry lips as a warm feeling spread through her body. A thumb rubbed over the back of her hand and her fingers twitched, gripping onto the hand loosely holding hers.

“Excuse me, I need to go,” Oliver said. She heard him shift and lean closer. “Laurel?”

“Hey.” She grimaced and coughed, hoping to clear up some of the hoarseness in her voice. “How long was I out?”

“Almost two days.”

Her stomach growled. She chanced a sheepish glance at Oliver, who smiled softly.

“I think there’s a couple things I need to take care of, actually,” she decided. He helped her out of the bed, holding her steady when the room swam for a moment. Then she walked on her own to a small bathroom to the left.

After taking care of that and splashing some water in her face, she evaluated a couple things. They’d been here longer than they meant to, she’d been hit by some weird science stuff and then attacked by a speedster before something else happened and Oliver was putting off important phone calls to post sentry at her bedside. And calling her his wife. Her cheeks turned a little pink in the mirror and she narrowed her eyes at her reflection.

“Get a hold of yourself.”

“Laurel? Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she called back through the door. Then she opened it. “Just could really use a shower.”

He nodded in commiseration. “Barry’s father will be here in a minute to check a couple things and explain what they think happened.”

Sure enough, Dr. Allen soon arrived. “Hi, Laurel. It’s good to see you awake. I’m Henry. I don’t think we had the chance to get introduced before.”

“That’s okay. Sorry to just pass out on all of you like this.”

He shook his head. “Sometimes when the body goes through significant trauma, it needs time to rest without interruption.”

“So what exactly has happened to me?”

“Well, what we know is that you have, whether as a result of the incident two days ago or some earlier incident, developed an active metahuman gene. We can’t know for certain how that will choose to manifest, but I believe we may have seen a hint of it when Zoom attacked you. Like a survival mechanism kicking in.”

“Okay. And it’ll just keep coming back?”

“Yes.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to process that. Her DNA had been changed in such a level that she had, for lack of a better term, powers. How crazy was that?

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to in order to figure this out.”

“No, we need to get home.” She looked back up at Oliver. “Who were you talking to on the phone?”

“A city councilman. Ruve, um, she’s disappeared. Must have taken her daughter and left the city.”

“Oh.” She supposed it made sense. With her husband dead, whatever plan they had had was effectively defunct. Then it hit her. “They want you to step in?”

“I don’t know yet. They want to talk to me in person.”

“Then we definitely need to get home. Thank you so much for all your help, Dr. Allen.”

On their way out, Cisco promised to send her the new suit as soon as possible. Seeing as how busy the Flash team seemed to be these days, she didn’t mind so much. And she had a feeling she was benched from the field until they figured out what this meta gene situation meant.

Thea got Oliver into a suit and off to City Hall as soon as they returned while Laurel headed over to her father’s after he sent an invite to lunch.

Though that lunch wasn’t just for the two of them.

“Sara!”

Her sister grinned wide as Laurel moved to embrace her. “Hey, I’m glad you made it back when you did. I can’t stay long.” Then Sara pulled back, grabbing onto Laurel’s left hand. “Well, where is it?”

“What?”

“The ring! Dad told me all about your sham wedding. I’m proud of you, that’s like something I’d have done in college.”

Laurel shook her head. “It’s really nothing.”

Sara snorted. “Look, the last person you’re gonna fool with that is me. I mean, I’m glad you both finally got your act together even if it was totally by accident. Really wasn’t sure what was going on with him and Felicity when I got brought back, you know? Don’t get me wrong,” Sara added, both hands raised. “Felicity’s cute, but Ollie just doesn’t do cute, you know? Especially now.”

“So you’re glad the playing field to Felicity is clear?” Laurel remarked, partly to deflect.

Sara gave an easy shrug. “Hey, if she’s up for it. But I’ll talk to her some other time. You tell me what’s going on with you.”

Laurel let herself be pulled down onto their dad’s couch with Sara but insisted, “Nothing. I’m serious. It was a sham wedding like you said, and once the year is up it’ll be over. I’ve been meaning to start preparing the papers, but things have just been busy.”

“Uh-huh.”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “They really have. But I’ve got time now so I’ll get started on it. Maybe I’ll have them ready for Oliver to sign for his birthday.”

“Some gift,” Sara muttered.

“It would be. It doesn’t matter that things didn’t end up working out with him and Felicity, that doesn’t suddenly mean he wants to be married to me.” Even if he’d been calling her his wife on the phone and waiting at her bedside while she was an invalid. Even if he was living in her home and making them dinner most nights. She couldn’t let herself get caught up in those things, because the minute she did would be the minute they were all taken away. Laurel was sure of it.

“If you say so,” her sister finally sighed, but she perked you a moment later. “Can I still see the ring?”

Laurel might have shown it to her to get her to leave it be, but then she remembered, “I, um, had it in the belt of my old suit. I’ll have to make sure Cisco sends it back with the new one.”

“Getting a new suit yourself? Nice.”

They were able to pass the rest of the time while waiting for their dad to finish preparing lunch on other topics, like Sara’s adventures through time so far and the various eccentric personalities she was essentially roommates with.

Just as they were finishing up eating there was a knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” their dad said. He went out to the front of the apartment and returned a few minutes later with Oliver and Thea.

“Sara, hey.”

“Hey yourselves. You both look fancy.”

“Just came from City Hall,” Thea informed them. “They’re looking for an interim mayor since Ruve skipped town.”

“So they did offer it to you?” Laurel asked Oliver. It was strange; he didn’t look happy they way she thought he would have been.

“They did. I, uh, told them I’d think about it.”

“Nearly turned them down outright,” Thea revealed, though she didn’t seem angry about it.

Laurel exchanged surprised looks with her family, but it was her dad who asked, “How come? Thought you really wanted the job?”

“I did — do. But for me to accept… they don’t like the idea of the mayor being married to someone in the DA’s office.”

Oh.

“They want to kick Laurel out?” Asked Sara.

“That’s why I said no.”

“But Thea stepped in?” When both Queens nodded, Laurel said, “Good. Ollie, you’re going to go back there tomorrow and tell them you’ll take the job.”

“What?”

“Laurel.”

Both her father and Oliver had spoken. Laurel stood up from the table, the better to make her point. It was habit. “We all agreed after you started your campaign that the biggest thing Star City needed from its leadership is stability. We can’t control for that with any other candidate. But we know you can protect yourself and can get in touch with any of the team if things get out of hand.”

“But that shouldn’t mean you have to leave the DA’s office,” Oliver insisted.

“But maybe it does. Ollie, when you came back and became the Hood, it was to get rid of a group of elites that had the city in a stranglehold. The people that exploited the system and got away with murder. The people that let the Undertaking happen.” She walked around the table. “I trust you, and I trust us, but I can see why people might be worried about corruption, about a new group of elites coming in and taking the place of the old.”

“But Laurel, this has been your dream.”

“My dream is to help people. I’m doing that as the Black Canary and I can do that as a lawyer in or out of the DA’s office.”

“You want to join the ACLU or something?” Her dad asked.

“Or start something specific to the needs of the people here. Like CNRI.” She looked down for a moment. “After the quake and Tommy dying there, going back to something like that was just too hard. But I think I’m ready now.” She turned back to Oliver. “And I could still help you while doing it.”

He looked at her conflicted. “It’s just for the interim. There’s no guarantee you’d win a real election.”

“Except you were guaranteed to win before Darhk interfered,” Thea spike up. “And we’ll all work twice as hard to make sure you win this time, Ollie. Laurel’s right. This city needs a mayor who cares and who can stand up to the threats that are out there. That’s still you.”

She noticed the grateful look he gave his sister before turning back to her. “You’re sure?”

Laurel nodded. It was maybe only a seed of an idea in her head at the moment, but the more she thought about it the more certain she was. The DA’s office was a good place to work, but there was far less of that personal touch CNRI had had. She missed being out there amongst real people she was helping.

“Oh yeah, she’s definitely made up her mind,” Sara remarked. “There’s nothing for it now.” She stood up and stretched. “Wish I could stay to see you set things up, but I’m pushing it as it is.”

Laurel and her father both hugged Sara, followed by Thea and even Oliver. Though Laurel thought she saw Sara’s lips move by Oliver’s ear…

It was later on the way home that she decided to ask, “What did Sara say to you?”

Thea leaned into the front to look at her brother in interest as well.

“Oh just, you know, some advice.”

Laurel resisted the urge to rest her head on the steering wheel. “She threatened you, didn’t she?”

“Not in some many words.”

Thea sniggered and sat back. “Better watch out, Ollie. Or it won’t be the terrorists our new mayor has to worry about.”

“It can never be simple.”

The next morning, Oliver was up just as early as she was, already pouring over some papers on the coffee table. “Do you think you could take a lunch meeting today?”

“I could. Why?”

“I’m meeting with the city council at 12:30. I’d like you to be there, because I’ll be giving them our decision.”

She fought down the little flutter in her chest and nodded. “I’d be happy to.”

Laurel made sure to set a reminder on her phone for the meeting, as she ended up getting caught up in prepping her office for her impending resignation. She wouldn’t hand in her two weeks notice until Oliver’s appointment as mayor was confirmed by the city council, of course, but she could organize her papers a little better.

As it was, she made it just on time. Oliver looked up with a smile and opened the door to the office for her. Inside waited the full city council.

“Councilmen, councilwomen, I believe you’ve met my wife,” Oliver said, his tone casual and light. It garnered a few smiles around the room. He led her to a seat at the table and sat beside her.

“We understand you’ve reached a decision regarding what we discussed yesterday?”

“I have, and thank you for allowing me the time. I needed to talk with Laurel before deciding anything. This wasn’t just about me. So I can tell you that I am happy to accept the position of interim mayor of Star City.”

Various members of city council nodded or smiled, clearly glad to have that matter settled.

Oliver continued, “Laurel has graciously agreed to step down from the position of ADA, which is good because I’m planning to have her run the nonprofit I’ll be pushing for the creation of as my first act as mayor.”

The assembled men and women looked at each other with surprise and interest. “And this nonprofit is?”

“A successor to the unfortunately scrapped CNRI. The Citizen Action Network and Resources Initiative. Otherwise known as C-A-N-A-R-I.”

Laurel bit her lip as Oliver met her eye and gave a wink.

“CANARI,” a councilman said with raised eyebrows.

“Yes, if you want to shorten it that way,” Oliver agreed, as if the idea hadn’t even occurred to him before.

“That move may signal to the public this new administration’s openness towards vigilantism, Mr. Queen, which would be a stark reversal from Mayor Adams’ stance.”

“I’m not saying that vigilantism will be legal or even tolerated under this administration, councilman. But there’s no denying the effect those individuals have had on the public. None more so than the Black Canary. I hear the kids especially love her,” Oliver said, and if he was planning to keep this up she was liable to kick his shin under the table to get him to stop. “Besides, a new and expanded CNRI deserves its own name.”

“A legal aid office for those of lower income has been sorely lacking since the earthquake,” one councilwoman pointed out. “It wouldn’t be a hard sell to allocate those funds.”

“We’ll need to see a proper plan for the organization of course,” a second councilwoman added.

“Of course,” Laurel agreed. “Oliver and I will be drafting a proposal for the council to read as soon as possible.”

“Very good. And thank you, Ms. Lance, for making the necessary choice for the sake of this city,” the first councilman said.

She nearly jumped when Oliver took her hand. What was he doing? “Few people have made as many of those choices as Laurel has.”

There were a few more technicalities to discuss before the meeting ended, then she walked out of the building with Oliver to grab a quick bite before heading back to work.

“So what was that in there?”

“What was what?” He asked.

Laurel opened her mouth to respond but that was when she noticed a man in a strange gray shirt and pants like pajamas step out from behind a dumpster with a knife.

“For the new world and for Damien Darhk!”

“Oliver!”

Laurel had only meant to shout in warning. What resulted was something entirely different.

Her scream exploded outwards from her, hitting the attacker like a physical force and sending him flying back into one wall of the alley. Oliver himself has reeled back out of the way of the blast and slowly lowered his hands while staring at her as glass from windows in the buildings above rained down around them.

“I think we know what those particles did to you,” he said, loud in the otherwise complete silence.

They moved together to check on the man. A large bruise was forming where his head had impacted the wall, and blood trickled out of his right ear.

“There’s no real way we can explain this. We’ll have to call it in anonymously.” Oliver took her arm and pulled her the rest of the way down the alley and a few blocks away. Oliver dialed the police and quickly left the tip.

He hung up and looked at her. “Talk to me.”

“Should I?” She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding when her voice came out sounding normal.

“It must have been the stress. It’s like some kind of trigger. We should see what STAR Labs thinks.”

“I’ll go see them after my resignation.”

“Okay. We can—”

“Oliver, you don’t — this doesn’t have to be some kind of, of political marriage. Where we act like everything’s all picture-perfect in front of the cameras but secretly you’re seeing your secretary and I’m a day drinker. Everyone already knows that’s not what we are, so just—”

“You thought I was acting,” Oliver said, less of a question and more of a horrified statement. “I — God, I’ve been going about this whole thing wrong.”

“What are you talking about?”

Her phone beeped, the second alert telling her she needed to be back in her office. Laurel nearly wanted to scream it into oblivion since she could apparently do that now.

“I have to go. Keep me updated on whatever was happening with that guy back there, okay?” She hurried away before he could reply.

Laurel spent most of her remaining workday cursing herself for that little outburst. She shouldn’t have let it get to her. But then, the more like a real husband he acted the harder it was to accept she was never really going to have that kind of partnership in her life. Didn’t he get that?

They all met up in the base. From what Oliver had been able to get from the SCPD database — it was a good thing Felicity had left a lot of her programs downloaded onto their computers — the man was claiming he was one of the ‘chosen few’ for Darhk’s new world. He’d been planning to destroy the old one, and now a lot of people were angry they didn’t get to live in solitary paradise anymore.

“We’re gonna have to round these people up or we’re gonna have a mob on our hands,” John remarked.

“Yeah, and it sounds like they need some serious therapy,” Thea added.

“Alright, we’ll suit up. Laurel, if you could run the comms? At least until we have a better idea about—” Oliver gestured at his throat.

“Yeah.”

“Speaking of suits, I did find this waiting here for you. Probably a speedster delivery,” John said. He passed a wrapped package of decent weight her way.

“Thanks, John.”

Laurel waited until the others had suited up and left before opening it. She kind of wanted the first look all to herself, childish as it sounded. The suit was still mostly black, but she could tell the material covering her torso was now a dark navy blue and much more reinforced than her black top had been. Her boots were more flat with a steel heel she was sure would do some serious damage. He’d also added some mesh on the outside of each leg of her pants.

Underneath all of this was her jacket, totally restored, and the remnants of her old suit. Lastly, there was a note.

Sorry this took so long. But in the meantime, we met your doppelganger and I got some ideas. There’s a ripcord in the sleeves of your jacket. If you pull them, it’ll release the panels I added and give you some control over a controlled fall — which you should be able to do with those sonic scream powers. Theoretically. Maybe even fly. This is so awesome. Call me for questions. -Cisco

Laurel read the note over again, her head shaking in wonder. Flying? She couldn’t even imagine it. Regardless, she put the new suit away for now.

As she was shutting the case, John’s voice came over the comms. “Heading back for the night.”

She went over to answer. “Sounds good.”

Laurel then went back to the package, taking out her old boots and top. She’d have to find some other purpose for them now. She lifted the belt out and opened each pouch, frowning when every one of them came up empty. Looking through her new belt showed all the usual supplies, but the old photo and her wedding ring were missing. Where had they gone?

Laurel took up her phone and walked into the little side room to call Cisco, not really wanting the others to walk in on this.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Cisco, I just got the suit.”

“What did you think?”

“It’s great. I was just wondering, in my old belt there were some things of mine that I can’t find. Were you still hanging onto them?”

“Oh. No, I gave them to Oliver for safekeeping.”

Laurel’s heart flipped over. “Oliver?”

“Yeah, so I’d ask him to see what he did with them.”

“Okay, I guess I will. Um, thanks again for everything. I’ll try and get out to see you and the others soon.” She hung up and hung her head.

Oliver had the ring. Worse, he knew she’d had the ring and kept it in a special place with an old memento of their love. What did he have to be thinking? She just didn’t understand. If anything, he should have been trying to distance himself instead of growing closer. Shouldn’t he?

Laurel walked out to the main room and nearly collided with him standing there. The others were nowhere to be seen.

“I — how much did you hear?”

“Enough. You, uh, would like your things back?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

Oliver took the old photo out of a pocket on his own belt. He looked at it for a moment, his eyes soft. Then he held it out. She plucked it from his fingers.

“And the other…?”

“If I’m going to give that to you, there’s some things I need to say first. If that’s okay.”

Laurel nodded.

Oliver drew in a breath. “Laurel, when we agreed to this plan, I was rushing into something I didn’t realize would become so much more to me. I was just focused on my own pain and my own life, and that wasn’t fair to someone I was asking to share my life.”

“Oliver, you weren’t—”

“But I found some clarity the night of the wedding. Not just from your vows or mine, but a pledge I made to you years ago. To never doubt my love for you.”

She froze. The letter in her desk. She’d never had the heart to throw it away even at times when it had felt like it was mocking her.

“I’ve thought a lot about those words since that night. What I meant then, what I still mean.”

“Still?”

He smiled ruefully. “Laurel, it’s been a journey, trying to move on from you, and every time I end up standing back in the same place.”

“But you keep trying to leave,” she pointed out softly.

“I know. And I’m so sorry. There’s this fear I have that I’m just going to keep screwing this up, and then I leave which screws it up anyway. I’ve always been a coward about that. But the wedding, seeing what a life with you could be like if I just let go of that fear, it’s helped me more than you could know.”

Laurel had no response left to give, too overwhelmed. Her eyes felt heavy with tears she was trying to stop from falling and her throat felt tight. Her face was hot. She probably looked a mess.

Oliver took out the ring. “So, if that’s a life you could possibly still want, I’d like to do this properly.” Then he got down on one knee.

Laurel sucked in a sharp breath.

“Dinah Laurel Lance, will you stay married to me?”

Now she was dreaming. Had to be, right? But the more she looked at him, she could see the nerves underneath the calm, and surely her head wouldn’t be pounding if this were her dream proposal. He was still in his Green Arrow suit, they were in the Bunker and she had on her workout sweats. It was that strange combination of them that told her this was real.

“I — well, I have to until March,” she pointed out, stalling for time.

“And after?”

Staring into those blue eyes, she could really only hold out for another moment. Laurel nodded, not trusting herself to speak for it might come out a scream. Oliver’s smile spread across his face, and so she whispered anyway, “Yes.”

He stood up, taking her hand and slipping the ring back on as he did so. It was still a perfect fit. Then his finger tilted her chin up towards his own face. Laurel’s eyes fell closed.

“Yes!”

They both looked towards the source of the noise to see Thea had come out of hiding around the cases for the suits. John was poking his own head out as well.

“Aw, we should’ve had you change, Ollie. I wanted pictures!”

“Pictures later. Do you mind?” He asked his sister.

“Right. Sorry,” Thea said sheepishly. I’ll just be in the car.” She and John slinked away, and Laurel shook with laughter as she rested her forehead on Oliver’s shoulder.

She felt him clear his throat as well as heard it, so she looked back up again. “Sorry, where were we?”

“I think about here,” he replied, leaning in. His lips ghosted over hers, an echo of the past and, with any luck, a promise of the future. Laurel pressed back just as lightly, wanting to savor this moment. A part of her was still in the habit of hoarding their days.

He nosed along her jawline and towards her ear. “I owe you a proper wedding kiss.”

“Mm-hm.”

“And a wedding night.”

Laurel’s breath hitched as goosebumps rose along her arms and tickled the hairs at the back of her neck. Then she threw her arms around his neck.

“Yes, you do.”

It was the last thing she would say for a while, since he sealed his lips over hers in the next instant. It was better than all her closely held memories.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing #so i'm maybe considering a smut tie-in to this story #it'd probably be an archive exclusive #since this site is so weird about that kind of stuff #i guess let me know if there's interest

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Powerless Part 8 (Branjie) - athena2

A/N: Thank you to everyone that’s still reading! I’ve finally fed the children some fluff after all this angst! This chapter has so much fluff it lowkey made me wish I could draw so I could draw some parts of it. Thank you so, so much to @youre-a-kite, for your support and amazing feedback with this. I would appreciate and love any comments or feedback you have!

Brooke has been asleep for three days.

The doctors at the base removed the bullets from her abdomen and thigh. They found and removed a GPS tracking chip in her left shoulder after Vanessa mentioned it. They controlled the bleeding, stitched her up, put her on antibiotics. She’s hooked up to monitors, her life reduced to lines and beeps and numbers, and her chest rises gently, but she still won’t wake up.

Vanessa shivers as she remembers holding Brooke in her arms as the blood gushed out of her and her breathing got faint and her eyes slid shut and didn’t open again.

No one knows what the latest shot from the lab might do to her. Vanessa’s ears shut down at Silk’s long-ass explanation of the drug and its possible effects, and all she got out of it is the worry currently buzzing inside her.

She’s taking a break from the crime-fighting and part of her is relieved. She honestly doesn’t care if the world goes to shit when the world did this to Brooke. Let the burden of protecting it make someone else’s shoulders tense. She spends every second next to her bed, chatting about everything and nothing for Brooke’s deaf ears, her own form of whistling in the dark, so Brooke doesn’t wake up alone. A’Keria stole Silk’s prized comfy chair for her to sit in, both of them acting appropriately puzzled and innocent when Silk chucked a soda bottle across her office in anger and led a witch hunt, complete with pitchfork, for the thief.

She’s dozing in the chair, which is truly worth anything Silk could do with that plastic pitchfork, forcing her eyes back open because every time they close she sees Brooke bleeding in her arms, only this time Vanessa didn’t get her to base fast enough. She ignores her heavy limbs and tells herself she’s fine, that she’s used to little (or no) sleep, and this way she’s guaranteed to be awake for Brooke.

“Vanessa?” A’Keria patters across the floor. “Silk wants to talk to you. It’s important.”

“But Brooke-”

“It’ll only be a few minutes.” A’Keria is apologetic, and Vanessa understands there’s not a question involved.

She huffs and puffs her way to Silk’s office like a middle-aged white lady whose coupon was expired.

“This better be good.” She crosses her arms and digs her heels into the ground.

“Vanjie, we can’t find anything on Brooke.” There’s a tone to Silk’s voice that Vanessa doesn’t like.

“What are you trying to say?”

“It’s just a little…suspicious.” Silk ticks points off on her fingers, and Vanessa knows she’s been sitting on this a while. “She wakes up in the lab with no memory. She said the lab ‘helped’ people like her, but where are they? She never mentioned anyone else, and there’s only a few costumed villains in this city. We can’t find anything about this lab, and don’t you think it’s weird they’re not looking for her? We found one recent report of a plane that crashed in an ice storm, but she’s not on the flight manifest. Facial recognition got nothing. Not to mention all we have to go on is a first name–”

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t get her social security number when she was bleeding to death in front of me!”

“Vanessa,” Silk tries. “I’m just saying, how do we know she was on the plane? What if that’s another lie the lab fed her and told her to use when someone questioned her? How do we know everything she told us wasn’t just lies they made her believe?”

Vanessa’s stomach churns. She doesn’t like what Silk is implying, but she has to admit it could be possible.

“Are you saying we can’t trust her?”

“All I’m saying is I haven’t made it this long in the game by believing everything I hear.”

She thinks of Brooke sleeping in her arms, gulping hot chocolate like a little kid, smiling like she was afraid to. The way Brooke’s eyes fought through their shadows of pain and lit up like the sun when she remembered her name. That Brooke would never lie to her. But if she didn’t know she was lying…

Vanessa distracts herself with the plane diagram on Silk’s computer screen.

“How many people were on the plane?”

“Sixty, all with some ballet company.”

“How many does it hold?”

“Sixty-one.”

“But you don’t think that’s suspicious?” Vanessa demands. “One empty seat. What if it was Brooke’s? She said they took her from the crash. What if they deleted her records? The whole plane went down, and with the record gone, no one would know she was there! That empty seat was Brooke, it has to be.”

“The plane crashed last March,” A’Keria cuts in. “Frost appeared eight months ago, at the end of November. They could have kept her there, training her, making sure their drugs worked, before they set her out. It fits with the time frame,” she concludes and Vanessa could kiss her.

She can tell they’ve swayed Silk, or at least given her some doubts, which is sometimes the best you can hope for.

“Keep looking. Please, Silk, I…I love her.” It’s the first time she’s told anyone else, and any doubt she might have had is gone as the words leave her. She loves Brooke, and she doesn’t care who knows it.

Vanessa speeds back to Brooke’s room, trying not to be disappointed when she’s still asleep. She’d had some overly hopeful fantasy that Brooke would be wide awake and ready for another kiss when she got back.

She drops a careful kiss on Brooke’s forehead. “Please wake up, Brooke,” she whispers. She nestles into the chair, praying she won’t fall asleep, but she does. —

Vanessa shoots awake in the semi-darkness, wall clock reading 6:17. She’s unsure if it’s morning or night until a shaft of morning sun breaks through the window and punches her in the face. She gets up to close the curtains when Brooke’s finger twitches.

Brooke’s eyelids are fluttering, breath quickening, and Vanessa’s heart leaps when those green eyes meet hers for the first time in four days.

“Where…” Brooke rasps. Her eyes flit around in fear, and Vanessa understands at once. Waking up in a strange bed with no memory of how she got there…

She repositions herself so Brooke can see her. “You’re not at the lab, I promise. I’m right here. You’re safe.”

Brooke looks wearily at her, fingers fumbling at the IV. “No, you wanna leave that in, okay?” Vanessa takes her hand before she does any damage to herself. “That’s helping you, I don’t know doctor shit, but it’s okay.”

“V-Vanessa?” she asks, voice sounding like she’s had a cocktail of gravel and broken glass, breathing still ragged.

“It’s me. I’m here. You’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt you.” She gives Brooke’s hand a light squeeze and grabs a water bottle from the nightstand. “You want some?”

Brooke nods and Vanessa holds it to her mouth while she sips slowly, breaths calming.

“Do you remember what happened?” She knows she has to call a doctor, but it’s been four lonely days and Vanessa just needs to hear Brooke’s voice, needs to see that she’s okay.

“I…my name. My name is Brooke.”

“That’s right,” Vanessa lays encouragement over her desperation. “Anything else?”

Her eyebrows knit together in concentration, but she seems dazed, and there’s a glassy, far-off look in her eyes making Vanessa’s chest tight with worry. She’s about to press the call button when Brooke’s shoulders heave.

“I remember he hurt me and I…I…”

“Oh, Brooke,” she soothes. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Vanessa blinks back tears, her heart sinking. She doesn’t know how she was naive enough to think Brooke would wake up with a perfect memory and her trauma wiped clean. Brooke will need help to get through what the lab did to her, she knows that.

“Vanessa, I don’t feel good,” Brooke says quietly, lowering her head.

“I’m gonna get someone to check on you, alright? I should’ve called sooner, I’m sorry. Does anything hurt?”

She shakes her head. “It’s too hot.”

Vanessa has Silk and a doctor in the room in seconds. Brooke flinches away and curls in on herself when she sees the doctor, breath catching in her throat and soft whimpers falling from her lips as she trembles.

“It’s okay, she won’t hurt you. I’ll be right here with you the whole time. I got you, I promise.” Vanessa squeezes her hand tighter and Brooke grips back like Vanessa is her lifeline.

“I trust you,” Brooke replies, an echo of days and several lifetimes ago, and Vanessa’s heart lightens.

“Heart rate’s a little elevated,” Dr. O’Hara explains the monitors for Vanessa’s benefit as she pulls a thermometer from under Brooke’s tongue.

“99.7,” she announces, shooting a glance at Silk that Vanessa can’t read.

“That’s not too high, right?” Vanessa asks hopefully.

Then Silk informs her that Brooke’s normal temperature is 95.6, and Vanessa allows herself to panic. —

“There’s no infection. Doctor thinks it’s a residual effect of the drug. It’s like it needs to burn through her system before it’s gone. Her bloodwork is different from the first sample we took, so this must be a new formula. Probably why she’s reacting to it like this,” Silk explains as Vanessa applies an ice pack to Brooke’s forehead.

She nodded off just after Silk left this morning and has been asleep since, drenched in sweat and mumbling unintelligibly as the number on the new monitor rises steadily, currently hovering around 102.

“I think it should pass in a few days,” A’Keria muses. “When she talked to us, she said the drugs made her feel weird at first, which is why she was so out of it when she fought you. Then she would sleep, which she’s been doing. This is the rest of it. Since she went every week, I’m figuring this’ll wear off by Sunday.”

“She’ll get through it. She can take higher temperatures because of her powers like you can, Vanj,” Silk pats her shoulder in a rare display of comfort.

It’s nice to think this could all be over soon, but that still means days of sitting here uselessly, watching Brooke thrash around and sweat and futilely putting ice packs on her.

Shooting fire out of her hands has never seemed so stupid.

She is powerless. —

A’Keria was right. The fever starts to break Saturday afternoon, hours after it hit 105 and A’Keria had to drag Vanessa away from Brooke’s bed while the doctors put ice on her.

By that night she’s back at safe levels, and it’s another waiting game. Vanessa wears out the tile floor wondering how much Brooke remembers and is still up when Brooke coughs awake, instantly holding water to her lips and gripping her shoulder comfortingly.

“Vanessa, I remember something else,” Brooke says once she’s able to talk.

“What is it?”

“I love you.”

Vanessa leans down as Brooke stretches up and their lips meet after what feels like years. Brooke’s lips are cool and yet Vanessa melts at their touch. She shivers with delight as Brooke’s hand roams down her spine. Brooke is here, she’s alive, and whatever happens, they’re together. She perches on the edge of the mattress and lays her hand on Brooke’s chest, feels her heart race with excitement beneath her touch.

They’re interrupted a few minutes later when Brooke’s heart monitor goes off. —

Brooke is released Tuesday night, and Vanessa takes her to the safe house Silk set up for them. A’Keria even went to their apartments and stocked the cozy space with their own stuff, and Vanessa collapses onto her familiar brown couch with a sigh.

Brooke stands in the doorway, picking at her nails.

“Hey, you wanna sit down? Or we could go to bed if you’re tired,” she offers. Brooke is like a skittish animal, eyes darting around nervously, and Vanessa keeps her voice low and even.

“Um, bed is okay. Can I get changed?”

“Of course you can. A’Keria brought your clothes, they’re in the second room down the hall.”

Vanessa changes into her own pajamas and raids the kitchen, drooling at A’Keria’s chip selection.

Brooke comes back in gray pajama shorts and a white T-shirt, and again Vanessa marvels at how much smaller and more vulnerable she looks when she’s not in her suit.

“Anything you want to eat?” Vanessa asks as she rips open a bag of chips.

Brooke shakes her head.

“How about toast? You really should eat something,” Vanessa insists lightly. Brooke has lost weight, not just over the past week but in the months since they first met, and Vanessa can feel Brooke’s ribs whenever she rubs her back.

“C-Can I have hot chocolate too?”

“You can have all the hot chocolate you want.”

Brooke eats her toast while Vanessa crunches on chips. They’re in her bed that A’Keria had moved in (she conveniently only had time to bring one bed, not that either of them has complained) and it’s so much like that night Vanessa is half-expecting the lab to burst in and take Brooke away from her again. She forces the thought away. They’re safe now. The silence is comfortable, and peaceful, and Vanessa lets out a breath she’s been holding for well over a week, feels the tension slowly dissolve from her limbs. On Friday they’re meeting with Silk to indulge her love of “debriefing”, but they had the next two days to themselves, and Vanessa could be content with this for two days, maybe even for her whole life.

“You doing okay, Brooke? Anything you need?”

“No, I’m good. Um, Vanessa?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, but are we…what are we? Like, you know…”

Vanessa’s been asking herself that same question, and she honestly doesn’t know the answer. She’s still trying to wrap her head around the fact that she is in bed with a woman she would’ve happily punched in the face a month ago.

“I know what you mean. We can be whatever we want to be. If you want to go slow, get to know each other better, we can do that. If you want to go fast, we can do that too. I love you, Brooke, and I’m comfortable doing this either way.”

“I love you too,” Brooke breathes. “I think…I think I want to go slow.”

“Then we’ll go slow. Take it a day at a time. We don’t need all the answers right now. We’ll do what feels right, okay?”

Brooke nods, stifling a yawn.

“Get some sleep, Brooke. We can talk more tomorrow.”

Brooke nods again, burying her head in the pillow. She’s asleep in minutes, and Vanessa puts her chip bowl on the bedside table (you never knew when a midnight craving would hit) and quickly follows suit. It’s been a long day.

She feels like she’s barely closed her eyes when a shout lurches her awake. Brooke is thrashing around beside her, asking someone to please stop hurting her, and Vanessa places a cautious hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay. You’re not there. It’s just a dream.” she repeats softly until Brooke bolts up in the bed, panting, shirt damp with sweat, cheeks wet with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“No, Brooke, don’t apologize. It’s okay.” She holds Brooke to her chest, puts the blonde’s head on her shoulder until her breathing becomes steady again. She falls back to sleep with her arms wrapped securely around Brooke, ready to fight her nightmares away. —

They live the next two days like royalty, laying in bed and eating chips, taking breaks for soft, salty-lipped kisses. It’s not until she’s in bed with Brooke, their legs tangled together, Brooke laughing at something she said, that Vanessa realizes she wasn’t entirely happy before. She wasn’t miserable, exactly, but she knows she hasn’t cared for another person, or for herself, really, since before the fire.

Now that the drug is out of her system, Brooke’s head is a little clearer, and between her glimpses of memory and Vanessa filling in the blanks, she is able to reconstruct the night before the lab’s ambush.

Vanessa remembers every second of that night, the image of Brooke beside her and the softness of Brooke’s hair as she ran her fingers through it permanently engraved in her brain. She knows Brooke is still a little fuzzy on some of the details, but she also knows that Brooke still loves her, and she lets it be enough for now.

The debriefing goes on far too long, in Vanessa’s opinion, and Silk has a mile-long list with Brooke’s answers to her questions, which probably aren’t as helpful as she hoped.

Brooke was allowed on one floor of the building. She only interacted with the doctor and the General. She doesn’t know anyone’s real names. She never saw other people there. She knows there was snow on the ground when her plane crashed and that the leaves had changed colors when she started doing her missions.

The legal issues are taken care of. Under the Superhero Protection Act, Brooke was within her rights to defend herself against the General and the doctor, even though Brooke, who has her knees up to her chest the whole time, goes rigid in her chair and keeps muttering I’m bad as they explain this. She didn’t sleep at all last night, and Vanessa hopes seeing Dr. West on Monday can help her.

Dr. West–Nina–used to be a superhero herself, West Wind, back in the day, but retired to practice psychiatry and spend time with her wife. She’s dealt with cases similar to Brooke’s and A’Keria had recommended her, knowing she’d be gentle enough for Brooke.

Vanessa runs her thumb over Brooke’s hand. Things are going to get better for them. She knows it. —

Vanessa wakes up to an empty bed and the scent of vanilla wafting through the apartment, which means Brooke had a nightmare. She’s taken up baking when she can’t get back to sleep after. She says it helps calm her, and gives her instructions to follow, which she likes. She’s gotten better the past few weeks, and Vanessa smiles as she remembers the disastrous first attempt when the smoke alarm woke her at 3am and she had to defrost their stove after Brooke panicked and shot ice at it so it didn’t catch on fire.

There’s vanilla cupcakes on cooling racks, and even though Brooke has deep purple bags under her eyes and her cuticles are chewed up, Vanessa waits to mention it.

“Cupcakes, huh? She fancy. You stepping up in the baking world, boo.”

Brooke’s smile doesn’t meet her eyes.

“Did you have another nightmare?”

Brooke’s face falls. “Yeah. I’ve been out here since 4,” she admits.

Guilt washes over her as she realizes that she slept through it, that Brooke had to deal with it alone, but that could mean the nightmare wasn’t intense enough to wake her, which is hopeful.

“You know you can wake me when it happens. You don’t have to suffer alone,” she puts on her concerned voice, making sure to never yell at Brooke or make her feel bad for this.

“I bother you almost every night. I wanted to let you sleep.”

Vanessa goes quiet. She knows Brooke has been working on this with Nina. Trying to understand that she’s not a burden and she’s not a bad person for asking for help. She also knows that, even though Brooke is doing a lot better with the therapy, the lab’s cuts run far too deep to be healed so quickly.

“Well, let’s try one of these cupcakes,” she puts on a smile and stuffs one into her mouth. —

“Vanessa?”

“Yeah?”

“So, Nina said it might be good for me, but I wanted to ask you, um…”

“What is it, baby?”

“Do you think maybe we could get a kitty?”

“Of course we can. I’ve always wanted a cat, actually. We can go to the shelter tomorrow if you want.” —

A colorful ball of fluff masquerading as a cat paws at the front of his cage when Brooke walks by. The shelter worker lets him out, and he immediately latches onto Brooke’s leg. She sits on the floor and reaches out a hand, then hesitates, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she looks at Vanessa questioningly.

“Oh, you can pet him,” the worker thankfully supplies before Vanessa has to explain that Brooke is still used to asking permission for everything she does.

She strokes his fur tentatively, smiling as the cat begins to purr.

“I think he likes you,” the worker says. “His name’s Henry. He was brought in with another cat, and they’re kinda friends now. This here is Apollo,” he explains, opening another cage for a gray cat to strut out. This one also nuzzles against Brooke, who pets a cat with each hand and grins in a way Vanessa has never seen.

“They like me,” she whispers incredulously.

Vanessa smiles at the worker. “We’ll take them both.” —

The next month passes by both slowly and quickly. The days seem long and indistinguishable when living them, but when Vanessa looks back at the end of the month, she sees how much things have changed, how different every day has been leading up to now.

Brooke is understandably wary of taking medication, and Nina says they can ease into the idea later if needed, but even just being away from the lab, going to therapy, and taking care of herself is working wonders. She makes it through the night once, then twice. She eats more. She talks beyond just answering questions. The skin around her nails begins to heal.

She still has her bad days. Still has nightmares, still says I’m sorry more than one person should, still calls herself bad for things she’s done. But when they finally have a Sunday where Brooke doesn’t jump out of bed and scramble to go to her appointment, Vanessa cries tears of joy in the bathroom.

And Brooke is making her better too. She goes to her own session with Nina. She starts to think about her mom more, and even talks about her. She digs the memories up from where she’s buried them and lets them see the sun. Nina mentions that helping at the animal shelter might aid Brooke’s progress, and Vanessa goes with her because she’s not quite ready to do something like that alone yet. She institutes Sunday brunch, which her mom did when she was a kid, and she creates her own sort of family, Silk the grumpy uncle who yelled on holidays and A’Keria the cool aunt that always got you the good presents.

They take things slow, like Brooke asked for. They talk for hours at night, Brooke listening intently to stories about Vanessa’s family, helping alleviate some of the ache. They cook dinner together, and Brooke massages her shoulders, and she eases Brooke into sleep with gentle neck kisses and holds her through the nightmares. Vanessa’s never taken a relationship this slow. Usually she ran through them like a blaze, the heat and passion consuming her while the flames grew, and if she happened to make a few girlfriends (or buildings) crumble from her heat, so be it.

But Brooke is a cold winter snow, a slow and quiet chill fiercely penetrating through your heavy coat and bulky layers of clothing straight to your heart, taking your breath away if you weren’t used to it.

Vanessa hasn’t felt this kind of joy, this pure bliss, in years, and she knows Brooke feels the same way. Which only makes it that much worse when Silk corners her with an idea one day.

“Vanjie, I have a plan but we’re gonna need Brooke. Frost, really,” Silk begins.

“I have a bad feeling about this, but what is it?”

“Well, I think we need to destroy the lab. If you and Brooke went in together, we could get records, information, we can get those doctors in custody and make sure there’s no building to return to. So they don’t do to someone else what they did to Brooke.”

Vanessa runs a hand through her hair, mind already weighing the dangers of this. “What makes you think she would want to go back there? Do you really think she should go back?”

“That’s up to her. We could really use her knowledge on this. Doctor says she’s okay physically, but I don’t want her health at risk, and if her or Nina don’t think she’s ready, we can wait. Just ask her.”

And Vanessa says she will, but the days go by and she still hasn’t. Brooke has been doing so well. The nightmares have been less violent, and she’s happy. They’re both happy. Will bringing this up ruin it all? Steal her happiness, make her get bad again? How can she even ask Brooke to go back there?

Over two weeks later, when Silk brings it up again, Vanessa knows she has to ask. But that night Brooke has a nightmare so bad she shoves Vanessa off her and it takes her torturous seconds to realize she’s not the doctor, she’s not trying to hurt her. Brooke’s tears soak into her shirt, Vanessa’s heart rips in two, and she knows the question won’t make it past her lips. —

She is able to keep the question secret, planting it down deep and ignoring it in favor of Brooke’s safety and contentment, but all it takes is one moment, at a godforsaken debriefing, for it to break through the dirt, demanding an answer.

“So, Brooke, what do you think of the plan?”

“Silk,” Vanessa hisses, but it’s too late.

“What plan?”

Vanessa sighs as Silk ducks out of the line of fire. “Brooke, Silk wants to infiltrate the lab and destroy it. I was supposed to tell you, but I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Brooke sounds hurt and Vanessa never wants to hurt her.

“Brooke-”

“C-Can we talk about it later?” she asks, and Vanessa nods.

“Okay. Um, Silk, I want to hear about this plan. Please.”

Silk never passes up an opportunity to lecture, and Vanessa gets herself comfy before she starts. Silk should really pass out snacks if she wants people to pay attention for this long.

Brooke’s face is blank and unreadable as Silk drones. She nods once it’s done, eyes downcast and bottom lip between her teeth. She lifts her head up when she’s ready, and Vanessa isn’t sure what she wants Brooke to say, but she’ll support her either way.

“I want to do this. Let’s bring down the lab.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #angst #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #superhero au #powerless #athena2 #tw mention of blood #tw implied PTSD #tw therapy #concrit welcome #submission

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