Sara hears the boots hit the roof and turns around in surprise to see Nyssa.
"What-"
"My father is going to kill you."
The words just hang between them for a few moments, Sara's blood running cold, Nyssa's eyes filling with pain.
"Many people risked their lives to tell me this."
Sara swallows hard. "And what are you going to do about it?"
Nyssa says nothing, looking down. Sara closes her eyes.
"I'd prefer you do it, rather than him," Sara says, resigned. Nyssa is her father's daughter, and the agony is written all over her face. "You can make it fast."
There's a hand on her face, and Sara is surprised to open her eyes and meet Nyssa's gaze, an arms-length away.
"I am not going to kill you," Nyssa says forcefully. "No one is. I promised your father. I promised you."
"But Ra's-"
"We will figure something out," Nyssa cuts her off, kissing her quickly. "But for now we must move. And quickly."

They fake her death.
Again.
It's agonizing to do it on purpose this time, to make her family believe that she is gone for good, instead of just letting them assume.
But Ra's al-Ghul is all-seeing, all-knowing, all-powerful, and only someone like Nyssa could pull this off against him.
Maybe.
The vial Nyssa hands her is enough to render her all-but dead for twenty-four hours. Nyssa positions her carefully, so that an awning will slow her descent, and fires three, non-lethal, arrows into Sara's chest just half a second after loosing one into the would-be assassin's knee.
Sara feels the white-hot tear of each arrow, registers the agony in Nyssa's face, and then the world goes dark.

"Breathe deeply, habibti. Slowly."
Her chest is burning and her vision is swimming. She focuses on Nyssa's voice as everything comes back to her. She has conquered pain, had it burned and beaten out of her, but rising from the dead with three arrow wounds is not particularly comfortable.
Finally she silences the rush of returning reality and narrows the sensations down to one: Nyssa's fingers softly stroking her cheek. She expands her senses to feel herself cradled in Nyssa's arms.
"Hi," she tries to say. It's more of a croak than anything discernible, but Nyssa smiles gently.
Nyssa is whispering reassurances in a swirl of languages, and Sara's pretty impressed with herself that she can both distinguish the languages and more or less remember what it means. Not bad for the formerly dead.
"Did it work?"
Nyssa's smile fades, but she nods.
"Your sister found your body as we suspected. Oliver Queen and the others held your body for almost the entire twenty-four hours before burying it in your former grave. They plan to hold a funeral in two days, when your mother gets to Starling. Your grave is, of course, empty now."
Sara shudders. Now. Having actually been buried in your premature grave is even more creepy than having one.
"I administered a sedative to aid in transportation. Felicity had already stitched your wounds."
"But she thought I was dead."
Nyssa nods. "She took great care with you, still. You will take longer to heal. An unfortunate side effect of the elixir. But you should recover."
"And do what?" Sara says. "I'm dead."
"You are not," Nyssa says sternly. "That was the point."
"You know what I mean. What now?"
"Now, we find somewhere for you to recover."

It's a crappy hotel, because crappy hotels are anonymous. It's not a long term solution, by any means, or even a medium term solution, but Sara can't even walk, so it'll do for now. Until they figure something else out. Tomorrow is the funeral, the fake funeral everyone thinks is real. Nyssa has already been recalled to Nanda Parbat, but her supposed grief buys them three more days. Two together, one to travel.
Nyssa keeps Sara as comfortable as she can.
"What now?" Sara croaks for the tenth time.
"Shh," Nyssa soothes, brushing a warm wet cloth across Sara's brow.
"No, Nyssa. We have to have a plan. Where can I go?"
"We," Nyssa corrects.
"No. Me. They'll find us together."
"Who will protect you if we are apart?"
"I can take care of myself. We need to pick a place. Get me an identity the League can't trace. Go get my money. Leave a little aside, then get the rest to my family. Then-"
"Habibti. Please rest. Our plans will be for naught if you die of your wounds."

Sara finally falls back asleep. Nyssa continues to watch her, refusing to close her eyes, lest Sara slip away.
She made a choice, chose Sara over her father, over the League, probably over her own life. And she would do it again and again, just to keep her Ta-er al-Sahfer safe. But the sting of betrayal, her beloved's murder by order of her father… It boils within her. She must seek revenge. As soon as she gets Sara to safety.

Nyssa attends Sara's funeral. There's a moment of awkwardness when Dinah and Laurel begin to object, but surprisingly, Captain Lance comes to her defense. With a teary Felicity at his back, he insists she be allowed to stay.
Still, out of respect, she stays on the outskirts of the small assembly. And though she knows that Sara is in actuality alive, she finds herself forgetting. Finds herself imagining what would have happened if she hadn't been warned, if her father's man had completed his mission…
It takes all of her training not to break down.
When the funeral is over, she quickly disappears. She cannot face all that grief right now, not when she knows it's all a lie.

"Thank god you're back. I'm starving!"
"That's a good sign."
Nyssa deposits a bag of Big Belly Burger on the nightstand. She turns up her nose, but her yellow bird deserves a little spoiling right now.
Sara grins at the sight.
"I should almost die more often."
Nyssa glares at her, and Sara manages that playful half-smile of hers, even with pale cheeks and dark circles around her eyes.
"I'm kidding," she soothes. "Come, sit with me. Where are you going to hide me first?"
"Hopefully only once. And I shall take care of the details. Your work now is to be well enough to protect yourself, as you tell me you can. Enjoy your lunch. I have a few more errands to run, but I shall return shortly."
"You're leaving again?" Sara pouts.
"Briefly. For supplies." She kisses her warmly. "Keep the door locked."

"I need your assistance."
Felicity jumps, phone flying out of her hand and up over her shoulder, clattering onto the ground behind the couch. Shit.
She's been frayed at the edges since Laurel appeared with Sara's body. Frayed and hollow. And jumpy.
But leather-clad, red-veiled, daughter of the demon, is sorta an okay thing to be jumpy about.
Not scared, though.
There was so much pain in Nyssa's eyes at the funeral this morning. Sympathy had evaporated Felicity's terror.
"Hi," Felicity says, straightening her askew glasses.
"I apologize for startling you," Nyssa says formally. "I've come to recruit you for something of the utmost secrecy."
"I, um - What?"
"I must return to Nanda Parbat, but I need eyes and ears in this country on a very special… project. Talented eyes and ears. Invested eyes and ears."
"I'm… not sure I want to work for the League of Assassins."
"This is not for the League. This is for me."
Felicity considers. Felicity thinks of Sara, of how much, how obviously, she loved Nyssa. (Obvious to her, at least. The boys are a little dim.) For some reason, she says yes.
"What I am about to tell you, where I am about to take you, must remain only between us," Nyssa says, eyes flashing steel. "I will kill anyone you tell. Including Oliver Queen."
"Whoa - hey, wait - "
"Sara is alive."

"We buried a live body. We buried a live body," Felicity is still trying to process. "I sewed up a live body. I - "
"Felicity," Nyssa interrupts, not taking her eyes off the road. "Are you alright?"
"Sara is alive!" Felicity cries. "That's - that's crazy! And you want me to help you hide her and never, ever, ever tell any of the people who love her."
"Yes."
"But she's alive," Felicity says softly, letting her eyes drift out the window. "She's alive."
"Yes," Nyssa replies gently.
"Holy crap."

She's not expecting it, but when she sees Sara for the first time again, Felicity sobs.
Beautiful, brave, a little broken, but miraculously alive Sara.
"Hey you," Sara grins softly.
She still looks tiny. Not dead on a table tiny. But bundled in a blanket, still pale and weak, curled in a bed in a sketchy hotel room. Felicity rushes forward, gathering Sara up in her arms.
"It's okay," Sara soothes. "It's okay."

"Your new ID will be waiting at the house tomorrow. Here's all your new bank accounts," Felicity turns her tablet to Sara, "Cards are in the mail. You're a former defense contractor. I'll try to find a job for you once you've recovered a little more. Speaking of, lemme see your sutures."
She's already tugging at Sara's tank top, and Sara sees Nyssa's barely-there grin out of the corner of her eye.
"It's fine. You did a good job," Sara shoos.
"Stop whining."
Nyssa raises an eyebrow as if seconding the assessment.
"Fi-ine."
Felicity tuts over the stitches. "If I'd known you were alive…"
"I've got plenty of scars, Felicity. It's part of the look," Sara calms. "Don't worry."
"And you're sure I can't tell anyone? Not even your family?"
Sara winces, and not from Felicity's prodding. "Especially not my family."
A frown crosses Felicity's face, but she nods resolutely. Sara knows she can trust her.
"John and Lyla named the baby after you."
"They did what?!" Sara bursts. She looks immediately to Nyssa. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I did not know of such a child," Nyssa shakes her head.
"That's gonna be awkward when you come back from the dead," Felicity comments.
She says when, but Nyssa and Sara exchange a look: they both know it's an 'if'. Felicity is not dumb or naive, so she probably does, too.
"Do you have a picture?" Sara deflects from the moment.
"Just a couple," Felicity grins, immediately fishing in her purse for a phone with a now-shattered screen. "Crap. Guess I need a new phone. Speaking of…"
She keys a few things into hers and then sets it down, retrieving another smartphone from her bag. Sara smiles when she sees the baby pictures pop up on the new phone screen.
"This is yours. That's Baby Sara. And if you hit this icon," she taps an unassuming tile, "There is a secure connection to me. 'Cause I'm your backup. I mean the whole phone is secure. And untraceable. But this part especially."
"Thanks. I appreciate it." Sara notices the time when she takes the device from Felicity. She smiles sadly. "Nyssa should take you back. Ollie'll notice."
Felicity shrugs. "He's probably just hitting some things." But even she has to admit it's time to go. She begins to pack up her things. "I'm leaving very specific wound care instructions, okay? Take care of yourself."
"You got it, doctor."
Felicity studies her intently for a few more seconds, then her face crumples and she throws herself into Sara's arms again.
"Please take care of yourself."

tbc