A/N: Woot, another chapter and on time too! I feel so accomplished! And on a side note, before you start on this one, I'll admit that yes, I know that I'm an evil author, but you still love me. Right? :P

Once again, thank you all for the reviews, favs, and follows! And as always, please read and enjoy.

She barely paid any attention throughout the car ride, nibbling at the cap of her pen as she tried to compile her notes with those that Lassiter had written down. That is, what she could read of his chicken scratch. Muttering under her breath, she underlined a couple of lines in his notebook, circling a few of the letters that she was iffy about as a reminder to ask him later when he could look at it with her.

So she was highly surprised to see when she did look up that they were outside the station.

"I thought we were going by Henry's."

Lassiter cut the engine with a flick of his wrist.

"It was quicker to just come by here first." He rolled down both windows. "I figured you'd want to have all the latest reports before we got there."

"Oh." She gave him a considering look. "Thank you. That was...thoughtful of you."

His lips twisted sardonically. "You don't have to sound so surprised about it."

She almost said that she did, because she was surprised, but she let it go. They'd had enough blow-ups for one afternoon. Instead, she asked, "How long do you think you'll be?"

"Not that long. You good waiting here?"

"Yeah. It'll give me time to finish this up."

He nodded and got out, shutting the door behind him. Felicity watched him enter the precinct, then let out a quiet breath. She still felt drained, but at least things had calmed down once they'd talked, or argued, as the case may be. They hadn't exactly set parameters about their relationship, but at least they'd both admitted that they wanted one, of some kind. It was a step, at any rate. She could live with that, for the moment.

For the first time in a while, she felt that she was content in her own mind. She still felt tugs of energy whenever she was around him, but she was starting to think that wasn't ever going away. Not with the way she felt...about him, about them. She shook her head slowly and let that thought go too, letting her eyes fall to her lap, the point of her pen tapping against the pad of paper. He cared about her. That had to be enough for now, until this case was over and she didn't have to be constantly looking over her shoulder.

As she was looking back over his notes, the thought struck her that he probably needed them while he was in there, especially if he had to stop and check in with the Chief. Cursing herself nine ways from Sunday for being so absent-minded, she stuffed her other materials into her bag and opened the car door. A nice, warm breeze was wafting in from the west, bringing with it the scent of salt and water. She paused for just a minute outside the car to appreciate the wonderful aroma, the memory of sitting out on the dock, the waves rocking beneath the worn boards floating through her mind's eye. It made her smile. Yeah...things were definitely starting to look up.

That was when she noticed the slight chill.

With the tail end of that breeze drifting past her, a cold air suddenly clung to her skin, making her shudder. It crept over her bare arms, leaving trails of goosebumps in its wake, up her shoulders to the back of her neck to make the hairs there stand on end. The muscles in her jaw clenched and unclenched rapidly, knocking her teeth together and when she exhaled, she could see her breath like a fine mist hang suspended at her lips for a brief second before disappearing in a wisp of wind.

Her eyes went wide.

He was here.

"Shit!"

Felicity spun on her heels, frantically looking left and right. She could feel eyes on her, sweeping up her body like iced fingers. He could see her, he could be right behind her! Her gaze roved everywhere, up the steps, down the twisting sidewalks that ran at each side of the station, across the highway to the marching line of neat buildings, the crosswalk just beyond the parking zones; no one caught her eye. Hell, how could they, she hadn't ever lain actually eyes on the bastard. And he could look like anything, really. She only had impressions to go on. He could change his appearance, wear a cap, cut his hair, anything!

Gulping air past her lips, she forced her galloping heart to slow. Panicking wasn't helping, she told herself sternly.

She focused, feeling the wildly whipping tendrils of searching, psychic energy around her cease their flailing, and allow themselves to be drawn inward. She narrowed her awareness to her own body, tuning out the busy parking lot around her, her eyes glazing over slightly, becoming distant. The back of her knuckles brushed against the hot hood of the car as her hands hung loose at her sides, but she could barely sense the heat. An almost paralyzing frigidity was slithering its way up her legs, as if determined to slow her progress.

Or perhaps it was the opposite.

He wanted her to see him. Why else would he be here? It was a challenge, a taunt, a dare...a threat.

It doesn't matter where you go. I'll always find you. I'll always be right in front you, just out of sight, two steps ahead.

She didn't know if the voice in her head was his or her own imitation of him, but it was enough to forcefully center her mind.

She made a low sound in the back of her throat, her eyes shifting back into focus. Her head automatically tilted to the right, looking towards the intersection. Near the base of the furthest stoplight, she saw a tall, broad figure. They stood out in the crowd, wearing a long, thick leather overcoat in the dead of summer. His hair was long and fair, hanging around his head and shoulders in ragged clumps. That hardly softened his features, which were sharp and angular, his mouth a slender slash just above his chin. His eyes were set wide apart and nearly colorless, a paler grey than her own storm-colored irises. And when they locked on hers, all she could feel was the ice solidifying in her gut, making the pit of her stomach sink.

Her breath caught harshly in her throat, every inhale a fiery burn in her lungs and mouth. The hairstyle was different, but there was no denying that it was the same guy. She couldn't feel her hands anymore, or her feet; they were numb. They stared at one another across the expanse of concrete and asphalt, Felicity barely registering that no one besides her even seemed to notice him. Her jaw clenched, locked in place as her unfeeling fingers curled into fists, crumbing Lassie's small notepad. An alien sensation of amusement tickled the back of her skull as she watched him. It was slight, like the barest brush of a feather's tip across her consciousness and it sparked her attention. Then she saw those razor thin lips part in a toothy grin.

She'd never known cold like she did in that moment, her heart stuttering to a complete stop for the space of two heartbeats, making her chest ache. The flow of life around her ebbed away to nothingness, a blackness so complete that it was encroaching at the edge of her vision.

Oh, god, he was in her head.

Her eyes unfocused again as she tried to catch it. It was akin to trying to cup a patch of midnight, weaving through black cracks and crevices as she mentally chased it. Get out, get out, get OUT!

"Sawyer?"

Felicity nearly flew out of her own skin at the scorching heat of a palm touching her arm, a shriek barely held back. Even though the touch was light, it felt like she'd been slammed back into her own body. Blinking rapidly, she realized that she was still standing next to the car, staring off at the intersection that was now empty. When had he-

"Hey, you in there?"

She jerked again, Lassiter's voice in her ears as rough and coarse as sandpaper to her.

"Y-Yeah," she replied hoarsely, reaching up to massage her throat with senseless fingers, moving them rapidly to hide their trembling.

She didn't need a mirror to know she was pale, her eyes too wide and too bright, and her breaths echoing too close together, almost panting. His look said it all. His brows furrowed together darkly as he gave her the once over. He didn't even seem to question it, just took her hand, a gesture she didn't feel, and guided her back into the car, shutting the door for her. Heat had already begun to build inside it, making the air thick and hard to breath, but she couldn't feel it. She could hardly feel anything and Felicity was hard pressed at the moment to figure out if it was the physical numbness leaking into her emotions, coating her insides in ice, or if it was the other way around.

The sound of the driver's door slamming made her jump again, her neck snapping towards the sound so fast it was painful. Her heart was going to pound itself out of her chest, a heavy staccato that was going to rip through her ribs at any second, she just knew it. Somehow, she got the impression that Lassiter knew it too, because he was watching her with a look that bordered on full-blown worry. That was an odd look on him. In any other circumstance, it probably would have warmed her, but at the moment, she felt encased in ice, and she knew that wasn't a good thing, but she had no idea how to make the sensation sto-

"Sawyer."

Well, that might work. It helped slow down her brain, at least.

He'd already rolled up the windows and started the car. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but it was like her body was in overdrive. And the trembling actually got worse. She couldn't even keep a good grip on his notepad between the shivering and the numbness, frowning as it slid from her senseless fingers and hit the floorboard with a soft thump. That was a really strange color for her knuckles to be turning. Kind of...blackish. That was a bad thing, wasn't it? His fingers suddenly closed around hers and she realized that she'd gotten distracted again. Glancing up, she tilted her head towards, willing her teeth to stop chattering.

"Y-Yes?" The 's' dragged out, sounding more like a hiss than a question.

"What did you see?"

How did he know? She blinked, her mind sluggishly fighting to keep up. It was like her thoughts were both spinning into hyperactivity and yet still unable to properly function. Ideas and suspicions were pinging back and forth like they were in a kid's bouncy castle, higher and faster until she couldn't identify them. But she couldn't get a good grip on them either, as if her ability to rationalize was slowly freezing too. Why was that? Unconsciously, she'd started tugging at the ends of her fingers, trying to both warm them and encourage circulation to return. But she couldn't feel the motions, so remained unaware of her body's attempts to right itself. She was too far in her own head.

Of course he would know. Lassie was one of the most observant people she knew, at least when it came to police work. And to her. Well, these days, at any rate. She almost giggled, feeling giddy. He still hadn't picked up on how she really felt. A rush of euphoric befuddlement surged in her belly, scattering butterflies and making her feel light-headed. Well that was a nice change from the constant cold. Wait, why was she cold? Felicity frowned.

Suddenly the hand that had been touching hers was cupping her chin, hot enough to sear her skin and she winced at the contact. Unable to resist, her head was turned until she was staring into bright blue eyes that were all too intensely focused on her. She didn't want to look into them. They would see everything and that couldn't be good.

Could it?

Thankfully, they left hers, instead glancing down at her lap where her fingers were still trying to work over themselves. She followed his gaze, noticing idly that the black color had spread. it made her hands look...dead, really. Dimly, she was aware of someone gruffly cursing before she was being pulled across the seat, then pushed back into it as the car was suddenly thrown into drive as she was tucked against an impossibly, painfully warm body. She hissed in a breath and tried to struggle, but with her hands absolutely numb, they were practically useless. And the sensation was spreading, sapping her limbs of any strength.

"Stop it, Felicity."

There was something in the command that made her obey. She went limp with a small whimper, her head spinning. The numbness wasn't exactly fading, but it was being compounded with a horrible cold tingling that felt like hundreds of tiny pinpricks under her skin, stinging, biting, clawing, burning, piercing… It was like she was being slowly paralyzed, unable to feel anything except what was happening inside.

Lassiter lifted his arm from around her long enough to reach over and turn the heat on full blast, hot air exploding from the vents. Felicity bit her lip hard, trying not to cry out at how the warmth aggravated the blazing sensation coursing through her. Her entire body felt like a live current, too hot and too cold at the same time, but alternating too, in an agonizing circuit that streaked through her blood with every heartbeat. Her hands somehow managed to curl into the lapel of his jacket, scrabbling in a vain effort to flex hard enough to grab a hold of something, anything, to use as an anchor.

"C'mon, sweetheart, hang on, just a couple more blocks."

She didn't hear him, wishing with all her might for the consuming stupor to return. All of her external senses were becoming dulled, muted, an imagined ability in a past that was no longer hers. She questioned whether she had ever been able to do anything other than feel this...this...she couldn't even find the words for it, and to try was akin to scraping a fingernail over a raw nerve. Time didn't pass, didn't matter. She was in a place that it didn't even exist. She couldn't even be sure that she did. Who would know? Who else was there? Was there anything besides this? The muscles in her face were stiff now, her eyes emptily staring, unseeing, set in a blank mask that couldn't reflect the internal upheaval that she was rapidly losing herself to.

She never felt his arm sliding under her knees, or the other arm that cradled her upper body to his. Her world had gone black and cold, and yet she was still awake, her breaths ragged and shallow as he carried her into a building that should have been familiar. His constant stream of profanity falling against her ear didn't penetrate the silence that had encapsulated her, leaving her trapped. She felt like a hive of bees had taken residence in her head, buzzing and jangling around until she thought her skull would right burst.

Was it possible to be this full and this empty all at once? She couldn't seem to remember. The pain receded a little, just enough for her to take a couple of deep breaths. Well, gasps, really. She did it again when he jostled her accidentally, sending a sharp bolt of pain through her body when her bare arms slid roughly against his jacket, struggling to open the thick door that led into his apartment and hold onto her at the same time. She didn't feel it, but somehow she registered that something had caused her pain, something outside of herself. The knowledge helped her to tighten her grip on the reality that had been slipping beyond her reach.

Unknown to her, Lassie set her down gently, cradling her against his chest protectively as he jerked his gun from the holster and fired at the door knob, splinters and bent metal flying. The smoke clung to them as he swept her inside, kicking the remnants of the door shut as he tossed the Glock onto the table. He bent to slide his arm under her legs once more, the long slender limbs clearly unable to function. Another unconscious mewl escaped her.

"Just a little further, sweetheart, I promise."

Maybe she could hear him, it would have soothed her, but she couldn't. There was nothing. She was retreating further and further inward, despite the fact that she knew...she knew that she needed to push out. But she didn't remember how anymore. Everything was so dark, unwelcoming even in her own mind. As carefully as he could, Lassie set her down on the bathroom floor, propping her back against the wall. Her arms hung limply at her sides, a life-sized doll with wide deadened eyes, her pupils so dilated that they appeared black.

After making sure that she was as stable as she could be, he turned around and rung the knob all the way around in the bathtub, tossing his jacket off and over the hamper. Not even bothering to shrug out of his empty holster, he rolled his sleeves up past his elbows and reached into the tub, plugging the drain. When he turned back around to her, it was with a determined expression, which melted into relief because she was out cold. Clearing his throat, he stuck one hand under the gushing water while the other worked his tie loose.

"You're not going to like this one bit, but it's the only way I can think of off the top of my head where you get to keep all your fingers and toes."

She didn't respond, and maybe he was grateful for that. When the water hit the right temperature, he twisted the tap again to keep it there. Then he straightened, toeing out of his shoes and kicking them towards the sink. He crossed the small space and crouched in front of her, his eyes lingering on her face before he took a deep, shuddering breath.

She was going to kill him when she woke up.