When Ray had asked him to come over, he knew something must be really wrong. Seeing Bennett in the chair, unresponsive, was terrible. Ray was almost frantic. Checking her pulse, her breathing, making sure she was alive.

But Oliver had seen this before. Even experienced it himself. He had been trapped in his own mind before; trapped in his own pain.

He carefully picked her up and carried her outside. He asked Ray to bring a damp cloth to put over her eyes.

A few minutes later, her body woke up all at once. She rolled, dropped herself to the floor, and began crawling away.

"Bennett, hey, it's okay. You're okay." Oliver tried to console her. Ray reached for her, but Oliver told him to wait.

He gently held her in his lap and moved the hair out of her eyes, carefully avoiding her head wound. Her hazel eyes burned into him, glowing gold in the dimming sunlight. His hand rested on her cheek.

"Oliver." Her voice, barely audible, gave Oliver the relief he was looking for. She was back. Well, sort of. She reached for his face, as if she was checking to be sure he was real.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay, Bennett. I'm here. And so is Ray."

"Ray." Saying his name, a panicked look overcame her face. Hearing his name, Ray rushed over.

"Benny, I'm here. I'm here." Immediately, Oliver saw her close herself off. Not in the same way. She was conscious again, but she was distancing herself. Building walls.

He took guilty pride that she hadn't done that with him.

"I'm tired." She said.

"Yes, yes, of course. Let's get you to bed." Ray stood and reached down as if to pick her up, but instead she leaned into Oliver. Wrapped her arms around his arms, cradling her head in his chest, eyes already closing.

Oliver carried her to the bed, and Ray turned off the light.

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The next day came and went. I slept through most of it. Ray came and checked in on me a few times, tried to get me to eat something. Oliver called and checked in. I didn't have anything to say. I was still trapped inside my head. Doing my best to keep the pain at bay.

I felt how I always did after a cut. Empty and alone. I couldn't even get myself out of bed.

When the sun set again, I heard Ray on the phone with Felicity.

"No, I'm planning on staying home again tomorrow, too. Yeah, she's still in bed. She won't eat or speak to me. I don't know what to do, Felicity. I just—I don't know what to do." I could hear the pain in his voice. The clipped, strained words.

I got out of bed.

I walked out of my room, and then out of the apartment. I didn't make a sound.

Out in the streets of Starling city, the street lamps burned my corneas.

It took me a few hours before I realized I wasn't wearing shoes. The heel of my right foot was bleeding. I hadn't even noticed.

I walked to the park and sat on the nearest bench. A few lights down, a homeless man slept, covered in soggy newspapers. I picked the rocks out of my feet, and hated myself more when I enjoyed the pain.

What had I done? Look what I did to Ray. He was so worried. So afraid for me.

I wanted to be better. I wanted to explain everything to him, so he wouldn't worry, but I didn't know how. And I knew he would worry no matter what. At least, that's what I told myself.

I thought of my parents. My biological ones. I wondered what they would think of me now. Of this horrible person I had become.

I thought of my mother, and how she would always let me sleep in the bed with her if I was sad or sick. All I wanted now, more than anything, was to crawl into her bed, wrap her arms around me, and tell her that I loved her.

But I couldn't do that anymore.

I lost track of time. I realized the sun was rising, Ray would be checking in on me again soon. I needed to get back.

As if she knew I needed her, my mother sent me a message. Just as the morning glories began to open their petals, a swallow-tail butterfly came to soak up the pollen. In Russia, butterflies are almost a holy symbol, signifying re-birth and second chances. My mother loved them, more than the rest of us. She used to say that she must have spent her previous lives as one of them. This one was blue, her favorite color. My mother might be gone, but here she is, sending me the only version of a hug that she can.

I needed to be better. Stronger.

I needed to fix myself. So that I could get back to helping others. So I could prevent others girls from ending up like me.

I walked out of the park, stripping off my jacket and setting it near the man in the newspapers.

On my way back to the apartment, I found two twenty dollar bills in my pocket so I decided to stop and pick up some bagels. And also some shoes.

The closest store was a moderately sketchy gas station that smelled like old smoke and mold. The man behind the counter was in his late fifties, balding, and wearing a gold chain necklace, complete with a navy track suit.

"Hey, sweetheart, you're up early. Walk of shame with no shoes on huh? That's a new one by me." I faked a laugh and passed him the money. While I was waiting for my change, a blacked out van pulled into the lot to gas up. The man behind the counter noticed and cursed under his breath. I thought I heard him say something about "dirty Albanians". Immediately, the hair on the back of my neck shot up.

The doorbell chimed as I left, but the men didn't look up. They were too busy arguing. The back windows were blacked out, but with the gas stations lights I could just make out that they were barred.

The sharp pop of glass cracking pierced through my skull. I had to swallow several times and steady my breathing to bring myself back. This time, I wasn't the one in the back of the van. This time, I could do something.

I wasn't sure anyone was in the back of the van, but I knew that these men would lead me back to somewhere. The two men were finished pumping, and I averted my gaze as they got back in.

Scanning the area, I made a less than acceptable decisions and broke the window of a nearby Camry. The van was leaving the parking lot. I yanked the plastic from under the steering wheel and started splicing wires.

"Come on, come on!" They were getting away.

Just as the van rounded the corner, the car revved to life.

"Finally!"

Peeling out of the parking lot, I found the van turning onto the highway. For a moment, the rationale part of my brain told me to turn around. Or to call Oliver and let Team Arrow take care of this.

But no. I was done being weak. I was done sitting idly by hosting my own pity party. I can do this. I pushed the car into the final gear, and merged onto the highway.

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"Oliver? Hey, this is Ray again, umm…Bennett's not…is she with you?" Oliver was confused. Not only because it was barely 6:30 in the morning, but also because Ray thought Bennett was with him.

"Umm, no. I haven't seen her since the other day. Why? What's wrong?" He asked.

"Shit. She's not here. I can't find her." Ray seemed like he was about to cry.

"When did you see her last?" Immediately, Oliver was texting Felicity.

"Last night. I checked in on her before I went to bed. Then, this morning, she's gone. I checked the apartment. She left her purse and cell here. You don't think, I mean, you don't think someone took her or something, do you?"

"Ray, stay calm. I'm going to have Felicity look into it, then I'll get back to you. We'll find her. I'm sure she's fine." Oliver hung up the phone. He wanted to believe she was okay, but he wasn't so sure. She was having some sort of mental break. It wouldn't be too out of the ordinary if she was having a flashback and left the house. Ran away. He just hoped wherever she was that she was okay.

He grabbed his jacket and headed down to the club. He was meeting Felicity there to try and figure out what happened. On the way, he hoped to himself that she would show up at home and everything would be fine. But he had a gnawing feeling in his gut that worried him.

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I followed the van all the way to the docks. The two men were joined by two other men, this time with semi-automatics. The opened the doors to the van, and the back of my throat burned with bile. Three girls who couldn't be older than fourteen were pulled out and thrown to the ground. My Albanian wasn't very good, but I could make out that they were selling the girls to the men with guns, who would presumably sell them again for a higher price.

My fear was burned out by rage, and I searched the car for a weapon. Unfortunately, the Camry didn't come complete with a gun, but after finding a stash of cigarettes and matches, I had a different idea.

I snuck around the back of the warehouse the men came out of and made sure no other girls were inside. There was only one other man in there, asleep and drooling. And yes, as I suspected, there was a large amount of cash and heroin inside. Perfect.

I found a ladder and climbed to the roof. The exhaust vent was easy enough to find. I unfolded my jacket and pulled out the wire I had soaked in the car's engine oil. I fit it through the vent, and looped it around, securing it into place. Peering down, I was pleased to see the wire hung almost in the center of the cash pile. I took three more breaths, and lit the match. The wire lit up in a single blaze, dripping the burning oil onto the cash. It was engulfed in flames in an instant.

I ran to the ladder and climbed back down. All four men had run inside to try and save the money/heroin, and lucky for me had left the girls in the back of the van, keys in the ignition. A crooked smile played over my lips.

"It's okay, you're okay. I'm going to help you." I spoke my best Albanian and hoped the girls understood I wasn't going to hurt them. I shut the door and ran to the driver's side. Just as I started the engine, one of the men ran out with the gun and unloaded a clip into the side of the van.

As I raced toward to highway, I prayed the girls were unharmed.

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"Here she is! There." Felicity had been combing through street cams for almost an hour. Finally, she tracked Bennett to a park. The time stamp on it read 4:32 a.m., almost four hours ago.

"She doesn't have shoes on! What is she doing there?" Ray was practically pulling his eyelashes out.

"Felicity, where did she go after this?" Oliver was more concerned that the live cam revealed Bennett wasn't at the park anymore, nor did she come home to Ray's.

"Umm, let me see if I can track here. Hold on. Okay, it looks like she went to this gas station. Then, oh my god!"

"What?! What is it?" Ray rushed over to see what Felicity had exclaimed about.

"She just broke into this poor person's car! Oh my god, I think she's going to steal it!"

"What? Why would she, she could have just called me! I would have picked her up."

"No, she's following that van. Felicity, see if you can get anything off those plates. I'm going to see if I can find her." Oliver turned and grabbed his gear. He didn't know what Bennett saw in that van, but it had to be bad if she was willing to steal a car for it. Who knows what kind of trouble she was in.

"I found it! I found the van. Umm, it's actually at the station. SCPD just logged it and the car Bennett stole."

"I'm calling the SCPD. Yes, hi, this is Ray Palmer. I'm calling to see if a woman named Bennett is there? Is she…yes…is she okay? Okay. Yes. I'll be there right now. Thank you. She's there. Let's go." Ray rushed to the door, Felicity right behind him.

"Oliver, aren't you coming?" Felicity asked.

"Yes, I'll meet you there." Oliver restacked his bow and grabbed the keys to his bike.

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