A/N: TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter contains self-injury scenes. If this is uncomfortable for you, please skip this chapter. If you or someone you know struggles with self-harm, please contact someone to talk to. If you don't know of anyone to talk to, please, please, PLEASE always feel free to contact me. I promise I don't judge, I only listen and love. I'm always here for anyone who needs me.

"Cisco? Cisco are you, oh! Hello." I squeaked in surprise as I rounded the corner and almost plowed right into him.

"Hey, Bennett, what's up? Did you forget something, or…" He asked me.

"No, no I didn't forget anything. It's just, you seemed kind of off, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. Did I do something wrong?" He had been so quiet. Not saying anything to me, and hardly a few words to everyone else. I thought maybe I had offended him in some way I couldn't remember.

"What? Why would you think that?" He genuinely seemed surprised.

"You just weren't talking to me. Did I upset you?"

"Upset me? Upset me." He nervously laughed as he leaned his back against the wall. "No, Bennett you didn't upset me. You saved my life." Stunned, I could only look at him, my mouth hanging slightly open. He was mad because I saved him? "Why did you do that? You could have died. You could have been killed trying to save me, to save someone you just met. If Barry hadn't been there, I don't know! I don't know what I would have done."

Slowly realizing what was really going on here, I moved closer to him, prying the tablet from his fingertips. Placing it carefully on the table beside him, I wrapped my arms around him, not letting go until he returned the hug.

"Cisco, I saved you because your life was worth saving. You were worth saving. And I would do it again, in a heartbeat. No pun intended." After I finally got a smile from him, I headed back towards to elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor.

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Felicity waited downstairs with Barry while Ray pulled the car around. Bennett was meeting them downstairs any minute now, and she checked over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't there yet.

"So, Barry, what do you think of Bennett? She's nice, huh?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. She is really nice. I can't believe she took that bee sting for Cisco. He would have freaked if it had stung him."

"Yeah, she's like that. I told you about how she saved Oliver and the guys right? That time they all got kidnapped? Crazy stuff. Yup." Felicity popped the 'p' at the end of her sentence, waiting for Barry to say more.

"Is that how she got those scars, and that bump on her head?" He asked. This was not the direction she was hoping he would take.

"Uh, no. The bump was from last night. The scars are from the past couple of years. Not exactly sure from what though. She hasn't told anyone." Anyone but Oliver, Felicity begrudgingly thought to herself.

"Huh. So does she have-" Just then the elevator binged, signally Bennett's arrival.

"Hey, Bennett. Ready to go?" Just then Ray pulled up and they all piled into the car. A short ride later, they were being seated at a five-star restaurant. After ordering a bottle of red wine and some appetizers, Felicity welcomed the warmth of Ray's hand in hers. Even though they were only holding hands, Felicity felt her cheeks redden. Maybe it was the fact that she couldn't help but remember the last time he had held her hand, when he had spent the night with her, his naked body pressed against hers. Mouth enamored with every inch of her skin as his fingers clasped around hers, preparing her for what was the come next.

"Felicity? Felicity, hello?" Her elbow slipped from the edge of the table. Oh dear, what just happened?

"Huh? What? Sorry." She realized Barry had been trying to get her attention.

They all laughed as the first round of food was delivered.

The next few hours went smoothly. Everyone laughing and enjoying their food. Well, except Bennett. She seemed a little off. Felicity noticed she only picked around her food, not really eating any of it. Every once in a while, her face contorted into one of pain and flushed white in what seemed like fear. Felicity noticed her slip her fork into her lap, then return it a few minutes later when she thought no one was looking.

"Well, I definitely ate too much. Bennett, want to go to the bathroom with me?" She seemed a little startled when I said her name, but agreed and followed me into the bathroom, pulling her sleeve down and over her thumb.

In the bathroom, Felicity turned on the faucet and pumped some pink foam into her hands.

"You doing okay, Bennett? You seem a little out of it." Shit, maybe that was offensive to say.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I'm just tired. It's been a long day, and I'm not used to being away from home this long."

"Okay well I'll tell Ray I'm ready to go to the hotel and we'll get you to bed, okay?"

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Ray had paid for a hotel for the night in Central City. I didn't particularly like hotels, but this one was clean and considerably nicer than a lot of the hotels I had seen overseas. I told myself several times that this was different, I was here willingly, and with friends. Still, I found myself checking under the bed and behind the shower curtain.

I had already decided there would be no way I could sleep in the bed. I had spent too many nights, and days, I suppose, in grungy hotel beds. My skin crawled just thinking about climbing into it.

It really had been a long day, and the hotel room was putting me on edge. My nerves felt exposed and raw. The slight course of adrenaline pumped through my veins as I tried to force memories back down the way one swallows to prevent vomit from crawling up your throat. I could feel them coming to the surface. Just nudging my consciousness. The blood covered man appeared briefly by the window. The mirror above the dresser caught the reflection of a man coiling and uncoiling copper wire. Any time I looked at the bed, I saw a girl (it was hard to tell if it was me or not, she was so dirty and lifeless), strapped down with men around her cackling like crows picking her apart, piece by piece.

My throat burned, and so did my skin. The fleshy part of my thigh, right below by hip, started whispering to me. Convincing me it was what I needed. That it could help ease the pain. Take away the memories, at least for a little while. Quiet the thousand screaming voices in my head.

In a panicked flurry I turned the shower on, the water as hot as I could get it, and climbed in the tub. I didn't dare take my clothes off. Instead I let the water burn over me, competing with the fire ignited on my legs. My hands started to shake. My head clouded. Every thought was becoming consumed. A silent scream began trying to rip itself out of my chest. Suddenly it felt like every cell in my body was screaming, too. My self control was dwindling, fast. Too fast. I climbed out of the tub, not bothering to turn off the water or even towel off. I grabbed the phone off the side table, dialed the operator, and asked to be connected.

"Please pick up. Please, please pick up. Come on!" I listened as the phone rang, and rang, and rang. No answer. He wasn't home. My eyes watered as I slammed the phone down. I sank to my knees. I tried counting. Tried holding my breath for two seconds, breath for four, repeat.

I lifted my head up, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, noticing a dismantled spider web, as a final tear slid down my face and into my ear.

It had gone too far. This time is was too bad. The numbness had set in, quietly. So quietly I didn't even notice until it was too late.

Standing up, I robotically scanned the room. Looking for just the right thing. There, at the bar, someone had left a wine opener.

My muscles carried me back to the bathroom, and I sat with my back against the sink cabinet. I slid off my socks, my pants, and my shirt. Holding the wine opener just right, I let the screw point hover just over my skin. I found just the right spot. Not totally clean, but there weren't any fresh marks there. Several bright red lines leered up at me, egging me on. Begging for new friends to play with.

Then, after giving myself a few extra seconds to change my mind. I plunged the screw into my skin. The first pressure point, the first pop of skin, the first drop of blood, I was hooked. I was a junkie, just getting the next fix.

But then the part of my brain that was screaming "no" at me shut up, as did every other voice. I saw no men with their pants unzipped, no chairs with chains on them, no wires. There was only the wine opener. There was only the blood, dripping into the porcelain tiles. When I reached the point where I felt good, I dropped the opener to the floor, laughed without humor as it landed in a small red puddle.

I lay there for a while longer. Not moving. Not thinking. Just staring at the puddle. Running my finger through the clots of blood on my leg, a distant part of my brain recognizes that the phone is ringing. But I don't really hear it. Or if I do, I don't move to answer it. Let it ring, I think.

Life can wait just a few more minutes.

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Arriving home, Oliver opened the fridge, hoping to find something edible. A couple days old rice and some peanut butter was all he found. Peanut butter and a spoon it is. He stretched out his stiff muscles and inspected a wound on his arm.

In between spoon fulls, he noticed a light flashing on his phone. He had two missed calls. One from Felicity, and one from a Central City area code. He redialed the number.

"Hello, thank you for calling the Hilton, how may I help you?" A cheery woman chirped through the phone.

"Hi, I received a call from here about two hours ago? I'm not how to tell who it was from."

"Let me check for you, just one moment." The line clicked into a cheesy classical song. Oliver got to listen to the whole thing twice through before the woman switched over again.

"Yes sir, the call was from one of our guests under the name of Mr. Ray Palmer, shall I call him for you?"

"Um," Oliver debated for a moment. "Yes, please."

"Alright, here you go."

The line rang for a couple of minutes. Oliver checked his watch. It was only a few minutes past 11:30, but maybe they were already asleep. Hanging up, Oliver sent a quick text to Felicity.

"Sorry I missed your call. Was out with Dig. Hope you're having fun."

Oliver closed his phone and set it on the counter. He really did hope they were having fun, but his stomach still turned slightly sour thinking about Ray and Felicity together. But when he thought of Bennett, he felt the corners of his lips twitching into a smile. Although he did worry about her, she hadn't told him much, really. He had definitely told her a lot more about himself. She had a way of saying things that at the time make sense, but later when you think about them again, she really didn't say much of anything at all. Kind of like verbal 'beating around the bush.'

She still didn't want to talk about the past two years. She did tell him however about the flashbacks. The trouble she had sleeping. When she had stayed at his place, he had let her sleep in his bed. In the middle of the night when he went to the bathroom, he peaked in and checked up on her. But when he found her, she wasn't in the bed at all. She was curled up in a ball on the floor, no pillow or blanket, fast asleep.

When he mentioned it in the morning, she had only said, "it's how I'm used to sleeping."

He had also seen her arms that day when the practiced with his bows, for fun. He had seen glimpses of her wrists before, and he could only imagine what other scars her body held. Her arms had been bound, several times. The creases of her arms were bruised, veins shredded, which he guessed had been due to the heroin they poisoned her with. But some of the marks on her arms were peculiar. Straight, clean lines in sets of twos or threes.

Yes, she was very peculiar indeed. But then again, so was he.