|(dinah) laurel lance | black canary (definitelyblack) wrote in welcomethreads,|
@ 2016-04-20 01:37:00
|Entry tags:||laurel lance / black canary|
who: Laurel Lance and OPEN.
what: Laurel could really use some help.
where: The park.
when: Late evening.
status: References to violence and blood.
notes: While I don't like to limit open threads, I would prefer to only have a character respond who can actually do something to help Laurel or get someone else to. Given she dies in canon in spite of medical attention, I'd like to avoid that obviously.
It was almost anticlimactic, the way the arrow sank between her ribs. In some ways, it made sense. Damian Darhk had been threatening this for months. Of course he would follow through. Somehow, that wasn't a comfort when there was blood in her mouth and she was pretty sure she was dying. She swayed on her feet and collapsed onto dirt and grass, damp leafs beneath her the palm of the hand not pressed to her side. For a moment she was confused, because she had been inside the prison when Darhk had stabbed her, but it was hard to focus past the pain and the struggle just to breathe.
This wasn't what she'd wanted. She wanted to go out on last time as the Black Canary. To stop Darhk so she could step into the light and be a hero in a new way. And then, fighting with the others, she had realized she didn't want to give this up. She loved fighting with her friends. She wanted to find a way to do both. To be the DA and the Black Canary. And now it looked like she would never do either again. It was sad. She thought of her father and her mother and Sara. They had all suffered enough. They didn't deserve this. She thought of Oliver and how he would carry this weight the way he carried so many. She thought of Diggle who would blame himself, even though his only mistake had been trusting that his brother was a good man. She thought of Felicity, who had left the team because she couldn't bear to stay and who would feel like this was her fault for not being there. Of Thea who would berate herself for not shooting Darhk in the face. All of them would blame themselves needlessly for this. And she thought of how she didn't want this. And fuck it. She was going to live if it took every ounce of her strength. She was not going to give up. And she definitely wasn't going to die in a black leather fetish suit.
"Help," she gasped out between wheezing breaths, as loud as she could make it though that wasn't very, dragging herself along the ground to try to get toward people. "Someone...help."