Right now Shawna wanted to punch Hartley right in his smug face for waking her up, but she kept the urge hidden behind an angry glare and a bag of very legitimately acquired medical equipment. What? You can't prove that they had been stolen, so just shut up, what are you going to do about it? That's right, you're not gonna do jack shit!

But that's not the point right now, the point is that Hartley had asked her for help and she had to help him. She might not have been able to become a doctor, but she still held herself to the Hippocratic Oath. Still wanted to help people. But when she'd shown up she hadn't expected this, yeah, working with the Rogues she'd seen some serious injuries, but when she saw the condition Cisco was in she hadn't even known where to start.

Injuries stacked upon older injuries, some were not so bad but each one worse than the last. It was almost overwhelming, but this was what she had wanted to do, wasn't it? Helping people, making a difference. She just wasn't sure if she even could do anything to help in this case. You can't help people who don't want to be helped.

Sure, you can clean their wounds, patch them back up, but the moment they have the chance to they'll just go out and get themselves hurt again. Back in med school, she'd learned of cases like Cisco's, and she's never understood why people did it. Sure, she knew the feeling of helplessness and she was no stranger to emotional pain, but she never understood why people would take it into their own hands.

"Why do you do this to yourself, Cisco?" Shawna knew what the scars on his arms meant, and she knew it would one day be the death of him. She cleaned and wrapped up the last improperly cared for cut and moved on to the split lip and bloody nose. "What are you trying to run from?"

Hartley fidgeted on the opposite end of the couch, he knew Cisco didn't respond well to questions, he'd seen that firsthand. He didn't want to see him get angry again.

"Well…" Cisco avoided eye contact, knowing that everything he was feeling was still laid bare on his face, readable to whoever looked at him. "More than you know," he shrugged, "you know, it's not so much trying to run than just trying to forget." He sighed softly, there was something about being so close to someone that just made him want to talk about his problems. Or maybe it was the alcohol in his system that was doing that… yeah, it was probably the alcohol. "Recently I just, I learned something… something about myself that I wish I could forget."

Shawna finished cleaning the blood away from Cisco's face, she hadn't expected an actual answer to her questions, but she just silently nodded and set up the rest of her equipment. Cisco was going to need more than a few stitches before she was done with him, she hadn't seen the cut on his forehead until she'd cleaned off all the blood. She knew the only reason he was so talkative was because of alcohol, sitting this close meant that she could smell it on his breath, but that didn't mean that what he was saying didn't need to be said.

"I just don't know what I'm supposed to do…" Cisco cast his eyes downward, he was saying much more than he had wanted to, especially with Hartley sitting on the opposite end of the couch. There was no way in hell he could say more about what had happened, but he could talk about what he was doing out on the streets. "I just want to keep what happened to me from happening to anyone else. I've been out there almost every night, trying my damndest to make an impact. Trying to make a point. Apparently, I'm not very good at it." He huffed out a bitter laugh and rolled his eyes. "I wanted to die when I learned what had happened, looks like I'm making that wish come true, huh?"

On the opposite end of the couch, Hartley frowned, he didn't know what had happened to Cisco, but he was trying to put the pieces together, few that there were.

"Well, I don't know about all that," Shawna tried her best to keep the stitches even, but Cisco's talking wasn't making it easy. "You're the one out there saving people, and to most of us, it seems like you're doing a damn good job. I don't know what it is that drives you, but you need to take care of yourself before you can take care of others."

"...I just don't see the point of it all," Cisco sighed, this was something he had barely started to admit to himself, and now here he was, spilling secrets to an old enemy. "I just don't, I mean, I'm not worth saving." He shrugged, ignoring the pain from his new stitches and he snuck a glance at the other man on the couch. He looked uncomfortable, almost as much as Cisco felt. Cisco chose to ignore the little voice in his head that told him to stop, and he just kept talking. "And now the only thing that really gives me something to look forward to is getting drunk and beating the shit out of criminals." He chuckled bitterly, "I'm not even good at it, I'm not a hero." Cisco sighed, gazing down at his hands. "I'm not a hero, I'm just a criminal."

Shawna listened quietly, noticing how Cisco was hunching in on himself. Chest injury, she should have known it. "You're not a criminal, Cisco. You're more than that, you help people." She shook her head and grabbed some more gauze and bandages from her bag. "Alright Cisco, we're just about done here, I just need you to take off your shirt."

Cisco tensed up, hands tightening into fists. "No thanks, I'd rather not," his voice was shaking and he knew it. "...I, I just can't do that. Not with..."

"I can't see your injury with your shirt on."

"I know, but I just…" Cisco fiddled with the hem of his shirt, gaze jumping back and forth between Hartley and Shawna. He mumbled so quietly even while so close Shawna could barely hear, "I don't want him to be in the room with me. I can't, I don't want anyone to see ." Fear tinged his voice and Cisco quietly continued, "I don't want anyone else to see me without it. I just… I'm not weak, you know, I just can't do it."

With his advanced hearing Hartley heard everything Cisco had said, and immediately had more questions than he could ever ask. But he couldn't ask, he couldn't let him know that he's heard and he couldn't make Cisco feel unsafe. So he feigned ignorance, sitting on the end of the couch and pretending he hadn't heard anything.

Shawna turned towards Hartley and raised an eyebrow, she knew that he'd heard everything that had been said. She pointed to the door, "Hartley, go outside."

Hartley stood slowly, his gaze locked on Cisco. He didn't want to leave him like this, he didn't want him to be scared.

"Now, Hartley!" Hartley walked back towards the door, and Shawna turned her attention back to her patient. "Are you alright, Cisco?"

"Yeah, I'm … I'm good." Cisco closed his eyes and grasped the hem of his shirt, pulling the bloodstained fabric over his head. He held the shirt in front of himself keeping it as a thin barrier between himself and someone who used to be his enemy. "Just be quick about it, okay?"

"Sure, just let me take a look."

Cisco dropped the shirt onto his lap, and Shawna gasped in surprise. His entire chest looked like one giant bruise, a sickening blend of purple and red and edged with yellow. "What the hell… what happened, or do I even want to know?"

"It's not that bad, just a Glock .45 millimeter at close range. Could have been worse." Cisco shrugged, "I got what I deserved. I wasn't paying attention, it's my own fault. It's not the first time I've been shot at, and it's not anything I can't deal with." He tapped his foot anxiously and kept his gaze somewhere above Shawna's left shoulder, "can I put my shirt back on?"

"Hold on, I haven't even gotten to see what's going on with your ribs. Raise your arms to shoulder height and keep them there."

"Fine, just be careful."

Outside in the cold Hartley paced, he could hear everything they said inside the warehouse even without trying. He didn't want to eavesdrop but his enhanced hearing made that impossible. Besides, he had so many questions he needed to have answered. Why did Cisco think he had deserved to be shot? What the hell had Cisco done that had gotten him shot at in the past? And why the fuck was he so adamant not to have Hartley see him without his shirt?

Hartley pulled the hood of his costume back up, blocking out the wind chill as he lost himself in thought. The sun wasn't quite up but it would be soon, the people in the city would be waking up and driving to work within a few hours. Maybe Shawna could help him convince Cisco to get out of the warehouse and back into town. Keeping to himself was just making him worse, Cisco was falling further and further down into the depths of humanity's worst places and he needed help getting back out. Maybe he could stay with Hartley… No, bad plan Hartley, don't do that, you've seen the way he deals with stress. But then again…Cisco needs someone to help him, and Hartley was more than willing to step up to the plate and do his part. He didn't know why, but he felt a little bit responsible for how Cisco was feeling. Maybe it was because of how he had always treated him while at STAR Labs, maybe it was just because he had never thought that his actions could have negative repercussions later on in life. Whatever it was, he knew he needed to at least try and help.

He continued to pace, wishing he had brought his sonic gloves with him, this just wasn't a good place to be, even in the daylight hours. Hartley stopped, trying not to listen to the people in the warehouse behind him, instead focusing his attention outwards and listening to the sounds of the city. Cars driving on the main roads, trains in the distance, the sound of thousands of people going about their morning routines. The sound of the door of the warehouse squeaking opening behind him brought him out of his concentration.

Hartley turned around to see Shawna standing in the doorway, a grim look on her face. She looked rattled, and she was shaking as if she'd been told something terrible. "You need to get him out of here, Hartley. If he doesn't get help soon," she trailed off, her silence saying more than any words could ever hope. "Just get him out of here, Hartley. Promise me that you'll help him."

"What?"

"He needs you to be there for him, and you need him. Just promise me, alright?"

Hartley nodded, wondering what had been said that could affect Shawna in such a way. "I promise."

Shawna smiled softly at Hartley's promise, she nodded slowly and walked out of the building, and in an instant, she was gone, teleported away to wherever she could see. Wherever she was, she probably was trying to find someone else to heal and to help.

Hartley slowly walked back through the open door, processing what he had just promised he was going to do as he was heading to the back corner, grabbing his sonic gloves off the shelves as he passed them. He needed to check on Cisco, but his mind was distracted, still turning over what had just happened in front of the warehouse. That conversation had just made everything so much more complex. How was he supposed to help someone when he didn't even know why they needed to be helped in the first place? Hartley pushed his questions to the back of his mind the moment he saw Cisco lying across the couch holding a cold compress to his forehead and a wide grin on his face. His shirt was back on, but it was on backwards and it was obvious that he either didn't know or he just didn't care.

"Heey, Hartley!" Cisco waved and tried to sit upright, but he just fell back against the arm of the couch instead. "Shawna gave me some pain medication, and guess what?" He didn't wait for an answer from Hartley before continuing with his rambling, "So, I don't actually have a concussion! Just a really bad migraine and some serious bruising from being hit in the head so much!"

"Well that is good news," Hartley pulled on his sonic gloves and moved over next to the couch, trying to figure out how to convince Cisco to leave the warehouse. "It's always good to not have a concussion." Hartley paused and then continued. He might as well just get to the point already. "Cisco, you can't stay in this warehouse."

"What? Why not?"

"Well… it's not a good idea for you to stay out here by yourself while recuperating!" Hartley kicked himself mentally, why couldn't he just tell him that it was because he was a danger to himself and others? "Besides, um, I have an apartment out in City Center! Yeah, it's much safer, and warmer too!" Dammit, was that the most convincing thing he could come up with?

Cisco frowned, this didn't sound quite right, but the painkillers were starting to kick in and everything was getting all… fuzzy. "Well, if you think that's a good idea… I'll have to move the computer somehow, but yeah, why not?" He pulled himself into a seated position and swung his feet over the edge of the couch and onto the floor. "I guess I'll be staying with you then, Hartley!"

Hartley tried not to let his doubt show as he helped Cisco to his feet and back into his leather jacket. "Alright then, I'll just make a call then we'll be on our way…" He wasn't sure why Cisco was suddenly so cheerful, especially after how he'd been before Hartley had gone outside...

Cisco collected his gear and started pulling apart the contraption in the corner, lost in his own thoughts and completely ignoring Hartley who was pulling out his phone and muttering quietly to himself under his breath. Hartley frowned as he dialed the number of the only person willing to drive out to Lawrence Hills. "God, I just hope I don't fuck this up too."