#sirenwave

The last time she’d even talked to her sister she’d been six. After her parents split their mother had taken Laurel away from her father and sister to grow up in Central City.  Her mother had hated her father so much, Laurel had never been allowed to visit him or her sister. Laurel had been told again and again that her father didn’t love her enough to visit. That her sister had forgotten her. Soon, she’d grown to believe it... She’d gotten into fights at school. The first time she was arrested she’d been thirteen and charged with assault. She’d barely managed to finish high school and never went to college. She’d gone to Star City once to visit her father and sister. To see if they really had forgotten her. When she stood outside the house and saw them eating dinner while laughing and joking... Laurel knew, then, that they had forgotten her. That they didn’t miss her one bit.Then she’d heard her sister had died in a boating accident with Oliver Queen. Shortly after that she’d gotten her powers and the anger that she’d kept down inside had been released when Zoom had found her. When she came to Earth-One and found that this version of Laurel had everything she’d ever wanted... She’d wanted to destroy everything. Kill everyone... She wanted everyone to hurt the way SHE hurt.

“Laurel...” said Sara softly, and Laurel smirked at seeing the pain in Sara’s eyes. “It’s really you.”

“It’s not,” warned the Flash. “I told you-”

“Shut up,” said Sara, whipping her head toward the flash, a look in her eyes that had Laurel perking up. A look of a killer. “You’re lucky I don’t do more than just punch you for keeping her here.”

“I could still set him on fire,” said the hulking man, making Laurel look to him, tiling her head in slight curiosity.

“She’s dangerous,” said Barry. “She-”

“Is coming with us,” said Sara simply, before looking back to Laurel. “That is. If she wants to take the deal.”

“And what deal is that?” asked Laurel, stepping away from the glass.

“Were do you even go to the bathroom?” asked the other guy. The one with the full head of hair.

“You don’t want to know,” she answered.

“Man, Ba---I mean, Flash, this doesn’t look very-” started the man.

“Humane?” supplied Laurel. “It isn’t. So tell me the deal.”

Sara held out her hand and Ray handed her a device that Laurel knew very well. It was one of those fucking collars. One that hindered her useless. Immediately she felt her body tense and she glared at those outside her cell. Sara, calmly pressed it to the glass, her blue eyes now full of serious determination.

“Put this on and come with us.”

“I’d rather die than put one of those fucking things around my neck,” she spat, her voice dripping with venom.

“I like her,” said the hulking man.

“Not now, Mick,” ordered Sara, and surprisingly, the man listened. Sara Lance had authority over these people. Despite hating her sister on Earth-2, Laurel held a sort of respect for this version. Maybe she’d feel bad about killing her.

Maybe.

“It’s just temporary,” said the other man. “Until we get you to our ship.”

“Ship?” asked Laurel with a tilt of the head. “What sort of ship?”

“A big space ship,” said Mick. “Beats this box. Trust me. Been in enough boxes in my life. It’s a sweet deal.”

“And then what? I come with you, wearing that,” she said, scowling at the device. “What then?”

“When we get on the ship, and away from here... You’ll get a choice,” said Sara. “But you won’t be a prisoner.”

“Deal,” she said without hesitation.

If all else, Laurel could think of a plan to escape their custody. Anything was better than this place. Sara nodded and soon the collar was being fed into the cell much in the same way her food was. With slightly shaky hands, she fastened it around her, and her eyes closed in annoyance as it hummed. The collar was active. Her scream was useless. Of course, it didn’t mean she didn’t have other means to defend herself. The doors opened and Laurel got a burst of fresh air that filled her lungs. Slowly she walked out of the cell, eyes narrowing at the Flash, before she smirked in slight satisfaction. She was leaving. He hated watching her leave. She made a show of stretching out her limbs, neck cracking before she turned to her sister’s doppelganger. 

“Lead the way, Sis.”

“Don’t call me that,” warned Sara, making Laurel shrug.

“Whatever you say.”

Black Siren walked in the middle of the group. Entering the main lab she saw the stoic faces of Flash’s friends and she couldn’t help but to laugh. Oh, how they were all hating this. Hating seeing her just stroll out of their prison. Just as she did with the Flash, she offered a wave that mocked them all.

“Until next time, Team Flash.”

“There won’t be a next time,” insisted Caitlin.

“You know, I really liked your Earth-2 counterpart,” said Black Siren. “You’re such wasted potential.” Black Siren watched as the woman rubbed her wrists where bracelets were. She swore she saw a flash of white hit her eyes and she noted that as very, very interesting. “Tah, tah!”

“Stop it,” said Sara. “Before I change my mind and leave you here.”

“Way to ruin my fun,” sighed Laurel.

“She’s known to do that,” said the man.

“Mick,” warned Sara.

“What, it’s true, isn’t it Haircut?”

“Uh, well... I mean no! No!”

Black Siren couldn’t help but to crack a smile. That smile fell, though, when she saw what was waiting for her outside those doors. The ship had been camouflaged and when it suddenly appeared she stilled in her steps to look at it with wide eyes. THAT was the ship she just agreed to go on?

“Well, you coming or what?” asked Sara over her shoulder, a mirth in her blue eyes.

“Yeah,” said Laurel, all thoughts of escaping suddenly put aside. Her curiosity had won out on her. “I am.”

.

.

.

“This is where you can stay,” said Sara.

“We had a deal,” said Laurel, fingers on the collar. They’d just entered the temporal zone. After Laurel regained the use of her legs, apparently the numbness a side effect to traveling through time, Sara had decided to show her where she could stay. Her toes were still tingling and she had a slight ringing in her ear. Of course, the ringing could have been from the constant jabbering of the others, who apparently had no idea they’d be bringing her along. The old man had almost earned a clock to his jaw for the way he spoke of her as if she hadn’t been standing right there.

“When we drop out of the temporal zone, I’ll help you out with that.”

Laurel narrowed her eyes at Sara. A part of her screamed to attack her now. The woman was already backing out of the deal. Laurel’s hands clenched and the leather gloves creaked at the movement. Sara straightened her stance, facing off to Laurel, who only sighed and backed down. For now. 

“Can you at least show me where the shower is? Could use some new clothes, too. And food. Anything but Big Belly Burger, though. That’s all I’ve had for months.”

“I’m sorry for that,” said Sara. “That they kept you locked up. Though, to be fair, you did try to kill them. Come on, I’ll show you to the showers.”

“I know some of your story,” said Laurel, following her at a leisurely pace. “That you died and came back. More than once. That you had some fun with your sister’s boyfriend, Oliver, before being trained by the League. How was that by the way? I hear they’re pretty-”

Laurel winced as Sara suddenly pushed her into the wall. Sara had her arm over her throat, just under the collar. It was then, that Laurel felt like she was looking in the mirror. This Sara was a killer. An assassin. Just like her. 

“All you need to know is that if you so much as even think about betraying us. After getting you out of that cell. I wont hesitate to put you in a place where you won’t see or hurt anyone ever again. You understand?”

Laurel nodded, and Sara released her grip. It wasn’t long before they were in the showers. Laurel immediately started to strip, peeling off layers of leather, until fully naked and in the hot spray of water. She moaned slightly, the feel of hot water as close to heaven as she’d probably get. Thankfully, this version of the collar was also waterproof, and didn’t so much a spark by getting wet.

“There’s soap in there. And shampoo. I’ll get you some new clothes.

Laurel just hummed her answer. It wasn’t until twenty minutes later, when she turned off the shower, that she grew annoyed. Waiting for her was a stack of clothes that weren’t hers. At least the jeans and boots were black. She slipped on the skinny jeans and socks easily. The boots were snug, as if new, and didn’t have the large wedge heel she was used to. The bra was the right size, as was the green shirt. Her arms were a bit too bare for her liking, and showed the scars from the night she’d gotten her powers, the powerful blast of glass had shredded her skin. She’d screamed in pain, doing her best to block all the pieces that’d blown into the store she’d been in, just as one last piece pierced her throat. She’d nearly died that day. Instead, she’d been made into a meta.

A God of sorts that could topple buildings and make people wreathe in pain. 

“Now look at you,” she said, running her hands over her bare arms. “At the mercy of heroes. How far you have fallen, Laurel.”

A throat cleared and she turned to face the woman she remembered being called Amaya. Looking her over, Laurel saw a tribal necklace around her neck and despite her size she could feel this woman’s power. 

“Sara said to come show you the replicator room,” said the woman. “If you needed anything else. Toiletries mostly. Don’t get any funny ideas about weapons. We’ve already informed Gideon on what you’re allowed to do here.”

“Gideon?”

“The ship’s artificial intelligence.”

“Hm. I see.” Laurel gestured forward. “Lead the way.”

“I am Amaya, by the way” said the woman, introducing herself, her eyes falling onto Laurel’s arms. Laurel frowned, not hiding her scars whatsoever. Amaya finally looked away before leading her to the room. When there, Laurel replicated a black, leather jacket to pull on over her arms, as well as the toiletries. When shown her room, Amaya left her alone. She brushed her brunette hair, then looked in the mirror. After a while she put on the make-up. The smokey eyes were familiar to her. She left off the lipstick. For now. After slipping on deodorant, with a mental note to remember a razor for her next shower, she walked back out of her room. 

“Now where would a girl go to find a decent meal on this hunk of metal?”

“Turn left and head down the hall. The fifth door on the right is the galley.”

“Who...” Laurel smirked. “Gideon I presume?”

“Hello Ms. Lance.”

“Don’t call me that,” snapped Laurel. “If you are to address me. Call me Black Siren. Or Laurel, if you must.”

“Of course, Laurel. Do you need anything else?”

“Where is everyone now?”

“The library.”

“No where near the kitchen?”

“No.”

Laurel smirked.

‘Good,’ she thought.

.

.

.

“Where are all the damn knives?” she asked out loud, slamming another drawer closed. 

“Captain Lance deemed it fit to remove all the knives from the galley for the time being.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” muttered Laurel. “How the fuck am I supposed to put the cream cheese on my bagel?”

“I suggest using a spoon.”

“An A.I. with a smart mouth. Great.”

“I do not possess a mouth,” said Gideon, and Laurel could practically feel the snark coming off the A.I. 

“Don’t take it too hard,” said a deep, rumbly voice that had her looking over her shoulder. “She took the knives away from me one time. Here’s a tip. Never threaten to stab someone for stealing your pop tarts.”

“Noted. Mick, was it?”

“Yeah. Gideon! The usual...” A beer was replicated. “Ah! Yes...” He looked to Laurel. “Want one?”

“Sure,” said Laurel. “Been wanting one for quite some time.”

“Flash didn’t give you some booze during your time out?”

“No,” she said, taking the bottle he offered as Gideon made another. She twisted the cap off the cold beer and took a long swing, the taste of the alcohol welcomed on her tongue. “He didn’t.”

“What a jerk,” he said, reaching into a different drawer and pulling out a spoon. He tossed it to her and she caught it easily. 

“So what’s your story?” asked Laurel, wanting to get to know the others on this ship. When it came time to escape, she could use their weaknesses against them. 

“Hm. Stole stuff. Set stuff on fire. Came here with my partner. Who got himself killed. Decided to stick around for a while. Beats being back in the slammer. Which is where I’d probably be now.”

“So you turned hero?” she asked, spreading the cheese over her bagel. She had an apple, too. As well as a large piece of chocolate.

“I’m no hero,” he said, taking offense to the word. 

“But you stay here.”

He shrugged. “Get all the booze I want. Get to bust some skulls and set things on fire without getting arrested. And I get away with stealing shit. It’s a sweet deal.”

“Hm,” she said, pondering his answer. “Sounds like.”

“So, I hear you can huff and puff and blow some buildings down.”

“You heard correctly.” She pointed up at her collar. “Or I used to be able to. Help a girl out?”

He laughed, a loud bark that she felt in her chest and fingertips, before grabbing his beer and heading to the doorway of the galley. “I like you, Toots, but not that much.”

“Call me Toots again and see what happens,” she warned, eyes narrowing, but he only laughed. 

“You have the same look as Blondie when she’s pissed. Hm, okay then, no to Toots. I’ll think of something else...”

“Or you could call me Black Siren,” she said. 

“Nah. Too long to try and remember.” He snapped his gloved fingers. “Ah. Pipes! As in, you got a nice set of pipes on you.”

“I-” He left before she could argue. “Whatever.” She started eating her bagel when Gideon informed her that the others wished to speak with her in the library. She finished eating, taking her time, before heading toward the library to find out her fate. After her talk with Mick, she decided that maybe it would be okay to pretend to want to be here. For a while. Let them trust her. Let them think she was on their side. Work with them, gain their trust...

And when the right time came along... 

She’d strike.