Archive of Our Own ^beta

One minute they were in Russia meeting Diggle’s wife on a rooftop, prepared to confront her, and the next thing Laurel remembered was being swallowed up by darkness. It was unfathomable and endless, wrapping around her, choking her, filling her lungs…

She was gasping for air, drowning in nothingness, it was cold and eternal and suddenly it no longer existed. She was trembling, greedy lungs filling with air. A blinding light made tears burn in her eyes, god, where was she? And where the hell was Oliver?

The light filling the boundless space around her only made the darkness that much more apparent. Laurel blinked, her eyes finally adjusting to the space around her, she could make out a walkway, an unfamiliar length of alien metal floor leading from her to another beam of blinding light. Inhaling, the air that filled her lungs was tasteless and dry as she walked across the narrow walkway. She flinched under the light, her eyes squinting as she recognized a figure standing at the center of the bloom of light. The figure stood inhumanly tall, a garish dark cape draping across the foreign metal armor the being wore. His broad shoulders look heavy, burdened with the weight of the universe.

“Oh, it’s you.” Laurel sneered, she still hadn’t gotten over this bizarre being asking her to betray Oliver. If he was all knowing and all seeing, he probably knew what they had been up to in Russia...needless to say it wasn’t a family friendly vacation.

“Miss Lance.” The Monitor replied in that same emotionless voice, she couldn’t tell if he was happy to see her or not. Personally she didn’t care if he was mad at her, angry space god or not, she wouldn’t betray Oliver for him.

“Where’s Oliver?” Laurel demanded, eyes squinted in distaste.

The fashionless supreme being turned towards her, head tilted ever so slightly as he regarded her with cold eyes the same unending black color of the space around them.

“You are in an unfamiliar space, without weapons or any form of protection, yet your first concern is The Green Arrow?” He asked, despite his lack of intonation Laurel could sense his curiosity.

She gave a shrug, refusing to meet his cold gaze, “What can I say,” She drawled sarcastically, “I’m starting to get attached.”

The Monitor eyes narrowed slightly which was followed by a gentle hum like he was accepting her answer.

“He is...elsewhere.”

Laurel’s lips curled back over her teeth, her canary cry welling in the back of her throat. She knew Oliver was going to die, they had discussed it privately, but if this was some weird reach around plan to kill him faster, she was damned if she was going to lose him without a fight. The Monitor was wrong when he said she was without a weapon...her cry was woven into her DNA, no one could take it from her, not even him.

“He is unharmed.” The Monitor added, sensing the incoming threat of the sonic scream threatening to tear from her lips. Laurel’s breath fleeted from her lungs in a quick exhale.

The leather of her jacket creaked subtly as she folded her arms across her chest. She wasn’t really cold in this unending space, but there was a chill that seemed to creep beneath her skin. It was creepy in this place, she just wanted to find Oliver and get the hell out.

“Well,” She said after a moment, shifting her weight from foot to foot impatiently, “What am I doing here?”

“This,” The Monitor said gesturing with outstretched arms to the space around them, “Is a gift.”

Laurel rolled her eyes, craning her head in either direction confirming that outside of their little spotlight all she could see was darkness. There were no balloons, or colorful wrapping paper, no new motorcycle or her fucking boyfriend , so how could it be a gift ?

Apparently her displeased expression said enough as the alien god took a step closer, a single step that seemed to ring out into the dark nothingness that surrounded them.

“Oliver Queen altered your fate, Laurel Lance.” The being said in his monotonous voice. Laurel nodded in understanding, Oliver had explained his reasoning for dragging her through that portal as her planet was collapsing, dissolving and taking everyone with it...everyone except her.

“Yeah, I know.” Laurel replied, arms still crossed in apprehension as she stared at the being before her.

“In altering your fate, he has also changed his own.”

Laurel felt her breath leave her in a shaky exhale, that sounded suspiciously...promising. Ollie had told her not to get her hopes up, his fate was sealed, but now the same guy who told him he was going to die was telling her something else.

“What are you saying? Is he still going to die?” Laurel asked impatiently, she had no clue how Oliver dealt with all of this suspense.

“Oliver’s fate is...indeterminate.” The Monitor said simply.

“Meaning?” Laurel prodded impatiently.

“Meaning the chance of death is still present, yet there is also hope...hope that he may yet live.”

Hope . Laurel felt winded and giddy, could this really be true? If there was any chance she had to save Oliver, she was taking it. If he was allowed to be selfish and save her from her fate, wasn’t she allowed to save him from his?

“What do I have to do?” Laurel asked, more determined than ever. Her shoulders set with purpose as the Monitor stepped forward once more.

“First,” He began lifting a gloved hand, her eyes watching the way the light seemed to dance over the gold bracer covering his forearm, “You must know the truth.”

“What are you-” Her voice died in her throat as his thumb pressed to her forehead, her whole body felt like it was glowing. She felt warm, uncomfortably so and her temples began to ache and her vision swam with dark spots.

--

Colors materialized before her eyes, spinning around her like film on a reel. The colors swirled before her eyes, until they blended together to make images and those images sutured themselves into a story.

Things were fuzzy but she could make out the image of a man...a young one at that, the kid hardly had hair on his chin. Laurel wasn’t sure what this kid had to do with Oliver’s fate, but if he could help the more the merrier.

The young man raked a hand through his long blonde hair, adjusting the strap of a his messenger bag on his shoulder, oblivious of the audience he had now gained. Laurel watched on, scanning the corners of the world around him trying to determine where her new ally could be found. Even though she was from a different Earth, her father was still a detective and had taught her to be observant. She couldn’t make out much, blurred glimpses of what looked like some hallway. Then came the shrill cry that was undeniably a school bell…

Wait, was this kid still in school? Laurel tried to ignore a feeling of guilt twisting in her stomach, this young man was just a kid, with his whole life ahead of him…

Laurel continued to watch the young man as he walked down the hall of the school, ugly teal colored lockers stretching in a long row behind him. The beige tiled floors looked dull beneath the boy’s warn sneakers. It had been quite some time since Laurel herself had been in school, but she still recognized what a classroom looked like as the young man walked inside.

Shaggy blonde bangs hung just over his eyes, they were a pretty shade of blue, she thought, the kind a girl could get lost in. She noted the way he sat as far away from his classmates as possible. An older man walked into the class with horn rimmed glasses that sat low on his nose, the teacher Laurel assumed.

“Before we get started,” The teacher began, placing a worn leather briefcase on the large wooden desk at the head of the room, “I wanted to remind you that your Meta-human research project will be due next week. If you haven’t started yet, I suggest you and your research partner make it a priority.”

The boy seemed to sink into his chair, a muscle in his jaw twitching as every eye in the room seemed to be turned towards him. Laurel  sneered, her arms folded over her chest, high school was such a shitty place.

The image seemed to melt, dissolving into a kaleidoscope of color before swimming back together in a new image. The same boy with his denim jacket, ratty sneakers and pretty blue eyes. He was sitting rather stiffly on a couch in a living room, he looked hesitant of leaning back on the vibrant orange throw pillows. A pretty dark haired girl soon joined him on the couch and Laurel couldn’t help but feel like she was intruding on something.

“Uh,” The boy began and Laurel perked up at hearing his voice for the first time, “I gotta say I’m a little surprised you wanted to pair up with me on this project.” The boy said, a hand raking through his long hair to push it out of his face. For all of the boy’s typical teenage nervousness his friend seemed calm and collected as she gave him a startlingly sweet smile.

“Surprised?” The girl echoed, “Why?” 

The young man shrugged, pretty blue eyes lifting to meet the dark eyes of his classmate, “Most people who talk to me only want to ask about my parents…”

The girl’s face softened into a look of understanding, “Connor, your parents-”

“ - Died,” The boy cut in, “Just the same as any other person.” The girl’s hand reached for his and he jumped at the contact, now Laurel truly felt like she was intruding. She recognized the look on his face, it was warm and vulnerable, the same look her Oliver had given her ages ago when she first kissed him.

If this kid, Connor as Laurel had recently discovered, was supposed to help change Oliver’s fate, how was watching him fall for some girl supposed to help?

The girl smiled at Connor and to Laurel’s surprise he smiled back, a warm dimpled smile that made her stomach tingle with a sense of dejavu.

“We should probably get started on our project.” The girl said in a low voice, lips parted as she leaned slowly into Connor’s personal space. The way the boy nodded, practically hypnotized by the girl’s dazzling smile and doe eyes told Laurel to turn away and allow for some privacy.

Thankfully Laurel’s vision blurred and a new image appeared before her eyes. It was Connor again and his young love, the girl’s doe eyes filled with watery tears.

“I-I don’t understand.” Connor stammered, stumbling back from the pretty arched doorway where his lover stood.

“I was just pretending to like you.” The dark haired girl said back, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Okay?” She continued, her voice rising in pitch like she needed to make it seem believable.

“It was all fake…” The girl said, her voice trembling with emotion and Connor seemed to be shaken even more. Laurel felt a pang of pity for the young man, love sucked sometimes.

“You don’t mean that…” Connor said, “You can’t fake what we shared together.”

The girl turned away, cheeks hot with shame and Laurel felt her stomach get tight in anger for the young man she had been watching.

“Connor, you’re just a freak…Like your parents.” Laurel winced as the young man staggered back, face twisted in a haunted expression.

“Wait!” Laurel called as her vision swirled with colors, “Look, this kid’s life kind of sucks, but so do a lot of people’s, what makes him so special? How is he supposed to help me save Oliver?” She demanded, not so far gone that she didn’t remember her original intention.

“Look closer.” The chilling voice of the Monitor instructed from within the void around her.

Laurel turned her attention back to the broken hearted young man, as he walked down a poorly lit street. His shaking hands pulling at the collar of his denim jacket to help shelter him from the heavy rain showering over him. Laurel squinted, observing the young man more closely, something about his walk reminded her of…no…no, she was just seeing things.

His long blonde hair was soaked, sticking down to his scalp as the rain drenched him though the young man continued seemingly unfazed.

A scream tore through the air, unintelligible and frightened, it was a woman’s scream no doubt. She’d spent too long being the Black Canary to not know what a distressed woman sounded like. Laurel chewed on the inside of her cheek as the high school student seemed to pick up the pace, walking just a bit faster.

“Help me!” Came the next terrified plea for help and Connor rounded the next corner without hesitation. Laurel wouldn’t say she was attached to the kid, but he wouldn’t be much help to her if he was dead, right?

There around the corner was an adult male, nearly 2 heads taller than Connor and had at least 60 pounds on the reedy high schooler. The man had a middle aged woman pinned to the wall, a knife brandished against the throat. God, what was this kid thinking? He didn’t have so much as a weapon, yet here he was trying to be a hero.

The woman’s attacker turned towards Connor a disbelieving look on his face that turned to an amused smirk.

“Mind your damn business, kid.” The man snarled, turning his attention back to the woman, a vicious expression in his dull eyes that made Laurel want to vomit. The woman squirmed, tears in her eyes as she stared at Connor.

“Hey asshole!” Connor called and Laurel resisted the urge to grimace at the beating that would result from the young man’s foolishness. His lips curled back over his teeth in a snarl that was achingly familiar. Laurel could sympathize with the anguished look in the young man’s blue eyes, it was something she had done for years before finding Oliver, before becoming the Black Canary; turn her pain into rage .

A cry tore through the air...her cry? That was impossible.

Laurel felt winded, nearly doubled over in a chilling shock as a sonic scream left the boy’s lips. Her hand clutched at her stomach in some attempt to steady herself. Hot tears welled in her eyes as the powerful cry tore up chunks of asphalt and crushed a dumpster like an empty soda can. The blast was so strong that it sent the mugger sailing back through the air only for him to collide with the far wall of the alley with a sickening crunch .

The woman scrambled back from the immobile body of her attacker and towards her young savior. Blood trickled from one of her ears, though the woman hardly noticed as her trembling hands took Connor’s.

“Y-you’re like her...The dead vigilante...The Black Canary?” Her voice wavered in a mix of wonder but shook with the rush of adrenaline.

A sad smile parted the boy’s lips, that dimpled smile was all Oliver and the thought pulled a different cry from Laurel.

“Runs in the family.”

The last thing Laurel saw at the image began to dissolve in a wash of colors was the boy’s smiling face…

--

A gasp left her throat as her mind seemed to snap back into her body, the Monitor stood before pulling his hand from her forehead. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, a shaking exhale left her as she turned to the being still stunned.

“I-” Laurel choked on her breath, hands trembling as she tried to come to grips with what she had just witnessed.

“Oliver,” Laurel stammered, “Where’s Oliver? He needs to know.”

The Monitor gave a lazy wave of his hand and the light around them flickered, swallowing them in darkness before blooming with light once more. Bright and blinding. Laurel was still reeling but as she came around she finally noticed Oliver standing beside her. A similar stunned expression on his face as he threw his arms around her in.

“Ollie.” Laurel croaked struggling to find the words to explain what she had seen to her lover.

“I know.” He whispered back sounding equally as raw as she did.

“I saw him too.” Oliver murmured against her blonde curls, his hands clutching her tightly.

The pair turned towards the Monitor who was watching on impassively.

“So, our-” Oliver seemed stuck on the word, emotion catching in his throat in a way that made Laurel beside herself.

“Connor,” She added on, struggling to say the word too.

“Our Connor, Oliver continued, “You’re saying that he is a possibility? A change in my fate?”

The Monitor shook his head in a stiff robotic motion, “Laurel Lance, along with the child have changed your fate.”

Oliver swallowed as Laurel held tightly to his bicep where she stood at his side.

“So...he’s already been…y’know?”

“The child was conceived during your reunion with Oliver on Earth-2.” Laurel felt her cheeks burn a ruddy shade of red. It was weird hearing a space god so casually mention the events on Earth-2, she certainly remembered their spirited reunion and the distinct lack of protection. That had been weeks ago...

Oliver turned to the Monitor with a fierce determination in his gaze, “I can’t...I can’t die during this crisis, okay? The whole universe isn’t worth me not being able to raise my son.”

The words finally leaving his lips made Laurel’s whole being quiver with an energy she couldn’t define. It was a primal feeling. Mere hours ago, Oliver was resigned to his fate, to the possibility of never seeing his other two children again...yet this, this news had changed him; it rocked him to his core.

“So, what do I have to do to ensure that I live to be able to meet my boy?” Oliver demanded.

“Your role in the events of the coming crisis has not changed.” The Monitor said flatly to Oliver, his dark gaze shifting subtly to Laurel who felt dread swirl in her stomach.

“But yours has. To ensure Oliver Queen’s survival during the coming crisis, you, Laurel Lance will play a vital role.”

“No! Absolutely not.” Oliver roared, his pretty blue eyes were dark with rage at the thought of both Laurel and Connor’s life being jeopardized.

“Oliver-” Laurel interrupted, earning an earnest look from Oliver.

“I can’t lose you...not both of you.” Oliver murmured weakly.

“Individually you are both formidable, but together you are unmatched. If the Green Arrow is to survive this crisis, he needs the Black Canary.” The Monitor’s voice echoed through the air and into the expansive darkness around them.

Laurel took a firm hold of Oliver’s hand, meeting his gaze with warmth and patience that she could only muster for him. Raising his trembling hand she pushed it beneath the hem of her jacket and under the shirt she wore beneath to meet her skin directly.

“We’re right here, Ollie…” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, “We’re not going anywhere.”