#laurelxthea

“Laurel was not my girlfriend.”

“But you loved her, did you not? Would you have come all this way with her dead body with your friends in tow if you did not?” Talia reaches out, cups Nyssa’s cheek with her hand. “Oh, ukhti sagheera. I will not pretend to understand the pangs of young love. But I will allow you to use my Pit.”

“You will?”

“You have grown into a remarkable young woman - a woman father would be aghast by. Meaning you have my full approval. So go. Prepare her for the ceremony, ya Nyssa.”

That night, clad in a white dress, as custom, Laurel is lowered into the Lazarus Pit by Nyssa, Thea, Oliver and Quentin. Talia’s acolytes chant the ritual as they do so.

When Laurel rises from the Pit, for a moment, Nyssa’s sure her heart’s stopped. The sight of Laurel, her Laurel, staring back at her when Nyssa thought she would never open her eyes again, is almost too much to bear. Her blonde hair is wet, her eyes cold and unfeeling, and when she jumps out of the Pit and goes straight for Quentin he’s knocked off his feet, just before Talia injects her with a sedative.

Nyssa watches anxiously as Laurel’s taken to Talia’s quarters, and she follows with the rest of Oliver’s team to the room. Everyone is silent as they wait for Laurel to wake up. Nyssa remains standing, while Quentin sits on the bed, Laurel’s hand in his. Dinah is beside him, watching through tears as Laurel sleeps. The rest of the team are on their feet, waiting, waiting.

Finally she comes to, and as soon as she starts to stir, everyone shifts a little, realising what’s about to happen. When she opens her eyes, she frowns a little. “D-dad?”

“It’s me, sweetie. I’m right here,” Quentin breathes.

“Mom?”

“It’s so good to see you, Laurel,” Dinah says tearfully.

“Wh-where am I? And - who are you?”

For Nyssa finds herself taking a step forward, barely even realising she’s extending her hand to Laurel.

“It’s all right,” Nyssa finds herself saying. “The confusion will pass with time.”

“What’s going on?” Laurel demands.

“We’ll explain later, Laurel,” Oliver says, but she flinches when he makes to take a step towards her.

“I don’t know you,” she says, and for the first time she looks afraid.

“Laurel, it's me,” Oliver says. “Ollie.”

“No, Ollie died,” Laurel says, shaking her head, “on the Gambit, with Sara. I don’t understand, what’s going on?”

“We’ll explain everything once you get some rest,” Thea says firmly.

“Speedy?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Thea says with a smile. “Don’t worry about everyone here. Just get some sleep and it’ll be okay.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Dad, you’ll still be here when I wake up, right? Mom?” Laurel says, looking up at her parents, searching their eyes.

“Of course, sweetheart,” says Quentin, and Dinah kisses her daughter’s forehead. “We’re not going anywhere.”

And Nyssa watches as Laurel turns on her side and slowly drifts off to sleep, looking at peace, but now that it’s over it’s slowly starting to hit her.

What has she done?