Two thousand and Seven; Starling City

"Daddy, he's going to love this surprise!" Dinah Laurel Lance urged as she packed up a couple bags to take with her to China. She had her passport ready in one for when they finally got there aboard the Queen's Gambit Quentin Lance, a Starling City police officer well on his way to becoming a detective, gave her a dubious look.

"I don't know about that, baby girl." Laurel rolled her eyes. Her father just didn't understand. Oliver and Laurel were meant to be. The two twenty-two-year-olds were it in Laurel's mind. "Honey, I just don't want to see you hurt. We both know the Queen boy is just going to hurt you in the end." Dark hazel eyes glared at him.

"You can't stop us from being happy, daddy," Laurel argued, hoisting one of her bags over her shoulder and walking towards her bedroom door. "Just let me be happy."

Two hours later, the Gambit had taken off and Oliver was nowhere to be found. Laurel sat down on the bed in what was supposed to be Oliver's room, seeing the bottle of champagne in the corner and a rose on the bedside table, and a horrible thought crossed the brunette's mind; Oliver was planning on having someone there with him. Someone that wasn't Laurel. "Miss Lance?" Her gaze shot up and she saw Robert, Oliver's father, staring at her with kind, blue eyes.

"Hi, Mister Queen," she greeted.

"I talked to Oliver; he was surprised to hear you stowed away on the yacht and that he promises to meet us in China," he informed her. Laurel scoffed.

"Did he also tell you who he happened to have all of this planned for?" She questioned, motioning to all of the things scattered across the small room. Robert sighed.

"I don't know, Laurel."

"But it wasn't me," she confirmed, and he just looked at her sadly. He looked like he wanted to say something in defense of his son, but he just sighed.

"Let me know if you need anything," he finally said. "I'm going to send one of the cooks in with some lunch."

"Thank you, Mister Queen." About thirty minutes later, maybe an hour; Laurel was so lost in her own mind, time was processing a bit differently, a woman with blonde hair pushed a cart into the room after knocking twice.

"Mister Queen wanted me to bring some food for you." Her voice was deep, a bit husky, and she had blue eyes. During all of the trips she'd taken with Oliver, this was the first she had even seen of this woman.

"Thank you," she trailed off, fishing for the woman's name.

"Donna," the woman smiled. "Donna Nance."

The next night, Laurel was lying in the bed, listening to some sad song on her iPod, asking herself what she had done wrong and why Oliver would be prepared to cheat on her when there was a loud crash of thunder coming from outside. She ripped her earbuds out of her ears and listened as a bolt of lightning lit up the darkened sky. She climbed out of bed and walked out the room to see Robert talking to the captain. He glanced back at her with a small smile. "Don't worry; it's just a Category two storm. We've sailed through worse," he promised. Laurel nodded and went back into the room, shutting the door behind her.

She laid back on the bed, putting her earbuds back in.

We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her and I go back to-

Laurel hadn't noticed her eyes were closed until a boom sounded way closer than before and then the yacht seemed to groan as Laurel was thrown across the room and into the wall. She could feel blood dripping down her face as she shakily reached up to touch a cut on her forehead that was steadily bleeding. Another boom sounded and the wall opened up and dragged her out into the open water. She thrashed around in the dark waters, not sure which way was up, and which way was down before finding her way to the surface.

Laurel took a deep breath before a wave crashed over her head, her lungs filling with icy water before she broke the surface again. "Laurel!" She heard a voice shout. She looked around, blinking ocean water and tears out of her hazel eyes and saw Robert in a life raft with the captain. She swam as hard as she could, her arms getting tired more easily than she was used to. Laurel finally made it to the raft and Robert lifted her up and in.

She was shaking, and Laurel was pretty sure she was in shock. She was cold and Robert wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in tight to his body. "You're alright," he soothed, his teeth chattering. "Everything's going to be okay."

Laurel took in a lung full of air, breath rattling in her chest. She had to believe him.

They drifted for days, finally getting to the point where they ran out food and were getting extremely low on water. Laurel was leaning against the side of the raft, her head resting against Robert's shoulder. Her hair had dried with salt in it, making it feel brittle and dry, her lips were chapped, and she was sunburnt. "I need you to promise me something, Laurel," Robert said lowly, grabbing her attention. "I have failed our city, and I wasn't the only one. I left a video for Oliver to find, explaining how much corruption is in our city and how I was a part of that corruption. Please help my son right my wrongs," he begged.

"Save your strength, Mister Queen," Laurel rasped.

"Both of us aren't making it out of this alive, and you know it," he urged. "We don't have enough resources. Please, Laurel, right my wrongs." He moved suddenly, startling Laurel from her leaning position against him and watched him pull out a gun and aim it at the captain.

"Wait-" The man protested, scrambling back against the raft before a bullet slammed into his chest and sent him overboard. Laurel pushed herself away from Robert, screaming.

"Mister Queen, what are you doing?"

"Survive," was all he said before turning the gun on himself and pulling the trigger. Laurel flinched back, feeling the warm spray of blood hit her in the face. Her vision tunneled and she gasped for breath. Robert Queen had just murdered someone and then committed suicide right in front of her. And he was expecting her and his playboy, cheating son to fix what he did wrong back in Starling? How was Laurel supposed to do that when she was stuck on a raft in the middle of the goddamn ocean?

She drifted for a few more days, running out of water a day before, and Robert's body had started to smell two days before that from being out in the sun for so long. That's when she finally saw it; an island. Laurel reached it about two hours after setting sights on it, and she hopped out, pulling the raft to the shore. She collapsed into the sand, letting tears of relief fall from her eyes. She had made it to land, after all that time. She laid there for a moment, basking on the dry land before pulling herself up and looking at the life raft. Bird were starting to swarm Robert's body. She yelled, waving them away before pulling the man on to land. Panting, Laurel looked around, deciding that it would be a good idea to bury him. She didn't want any more birds to try to eat him. Struggling, she pulled him further inland and with waning strength, managed to make a decent grave for him and covered him with large rocks.

Stumbling to her knees, Laurel blearily looked around for anything she could eat or some fresh water to drink. She barely heard the whistle of something flying towards her, but she sure as hell felt the impact through her shoulder. An arrow tip was sticking out of the front of her shoulder and Laurel gazed at it for a moment, not understanding what happened until the pain hit her full force. A scream tore out of her raw throat and she fell forward, arms bracing her. Spasms shot through her shoulder at the impact and she groaned, looking around to see what happened.

Before finally passing out, Laurel saw a man in a hood with a bow making his way towards her quickly before her vision finally blacked out.

When Laurel came to, she was sitting in a cave, the man with the hood coming toward her. "Who are you?" She croaked, throat dry. "Why did you bring me here? Why did you shoot me?" Her voice raised as she looked down and the pain radiating from the arrow in shoulder made its presence known.

"Drink," he urged, handing her a cup. She frowned, not understanding what he said.

"What?" She asked before the cup was put to her lips and the drink was forced down her throat. She sputtered; it tasted like an astray. While Laurel was distracted, the man grabbed the arrow and pulled it out through her shoulder. Her eyes widened and she screamed, passing back out into blissful unawareness.

Laurel awoke again with a quiet groan. Her wound was cleaned and treated as best as it could be without a pharmacy. The man in the hood was sleeping against the other side of the cave wall, breathing even.

Laurel weighed her options; while he was asleep, she could attempt to escape. This man shot her. Was she really safe with him? On the other hand, there was no way she could survive this island on her own. Who knew what she could face? Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the mouth of the cave, not realizing that the man had woken up and was watching her.

She decided to stay, leaning against the wall until she was told it was okay to move. A man who wanted her dead would never have tried to keep her alive. Staying with the man in the hood was her best chance at survival.

Laurel saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and jumped, realizing he was moving. She tensed, pushing herself a bit harder against the cave wall. The man motioned for her to stay put, grabbed his bow and a quiver of arrows and made his way out of the cave.

He came back a few hours later, one dead bird hanging from his fist and in the other one was a bird in a cage. Laurel frowned. What was he planning? Was the caged one for later?

The man got to work preparing the dead bird, and when it was cooked, he wouldn't share. "Sir, I'm starving; may I please-"

"Shengcún," was all he said. Laurel was worried her concerned frown would become a permanent fixture on her face.

"What?"

"Shengcún," he said again, motioning to the caged bird.

"What does that mean?" Laurel demanded. "Does that mean bird?"

"Shengcún." Why did he keep saying bird? What did he want her to - oh.

Oh.

"No," Laurel shook her head firmly. "I'm not killing the bird. I can't. Please don't make me." Her voice lost the firmness and became an almost desperate plea. She'd never killed an animal in her life. He just stared at her. "I-" She swallowed. "I don't know how." The man mimed grabbing the bird and made a motioned with his hand as if snapping the neck. The thought alone destroyed any hunger she had.

She hunkered back into the corner of the cave wall and curled in on herself. There was no way she could do this.

She wasn't strong enough.

After two days, Laurel caved. She stares longingly at the bird the man was eating and then looked over at the caged bird. It was getting weaker; would probably die within a couple days of starvation. Just like her. She looked back over at the man and saw him staring at her intensely. "Shengcún," he urged. Laurel slowly reached into the cage, stroking the top of the bird's head lovingly. She steeled herself, gripped the bird more tightly and twisted. She flinched as the crack reverberated through the cave and teared up.

The man showed her how to skin the dead bird and get it over the fire. As she was eating for the first time in days, the man nodded approvingly. "Shengcún," he repeated.

"Yes," she sighed. "Bird, I know."

"Shengcún not mean bird," the man answered in English, startling Laurel. "It means survive."

"You can speak English?" She questioned. It was admittedly broken, but very understandable.

"If you want to survive this island," he continued as if Laurel hadn't said a word. "Bird not last thing you kill."

Laurel would find out soon enough how true his words were.

After healing and getting her strength back for a few more days, the man, who Laurel learned was named Yao Fei, decided to take her hunting. And by hunting, she meant he shot an animal and she had to retrieve the carcass. "Can I try?" She questioned lowly when Yao Fei was lining up a shot. He lowered the bow slightly and glanced at her. He handed the bow over to her, and Laurel struggled to pull back the bow string. The arrow tip quivered violently in her line of sight and she loosed the arrow. The arrow sprang forward, and instead of hitting the targeted rabbit, it soared in between some brush. Laurel frowned and gave a half-hearted shrug in Yao Fei's direction. "Maybe it hit a different rabbit?" He shook his head and muttered something in Chinese. Her frown deepened. "What does that mean?"

"It means you die badly." There was movement by the same brush and Yao Fei quickly nocked an arrow and let it loose. Laurel flinched when she heard she scream of a rabbit, something that was becoming an unfortunate normal for her, and Yao Fei motioned for her to go get it. She sighed and made her way through the brush and towards the dead rabbit.

It only took her a couple of minutes to find it, Yao Fei's arrow buried in its gray side. As she reached for it, something caught her eye and she turned her head to see the other arrow she had shot. She leaned to the side, grasping the shaft in her hand when something covered her mouth. Her eyes widened in surprise and she gasped behind the hand. It was too rough to be Yao Fei, and her captor seemed to tower over her; not something Yao Fei could do.

Laurel struggled, knocking the heels of her feet into the man's shins and clawing at his arm; anything to get him away from her. And then she remembered, the arrow. She gripped it tightly and stabbed the tip into the man's arm, twisting it deeper. The man let out a scream and dropped her. Laurel tried to scramble away, but another pair of hands grabbed her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders and across her chest tightly with one arm and the other grasped her hair and tugged.

She let out a sob as the man dragged her off to the side and threw her in a cage made of bamboo. "Please!" She cried. "I don't know what you want! I don't know what you want!" The men ignored her; the one she stabbed with the arrow was rubbing his steadily bleeding arm and was glaring at her. He looked so intimidating. All she could see were dark eyes, pits of black. He was wearing a balaclava so she couldn't see the rest of his features.

"Stupid bitch," he growled at her, jabbing the arrow tip through the gaps in her cage and towards her middle. Laurel gasped, pushing herself back as far as she could. He managed to graze her, but it was deep enough to start oozing blood immediately. He laughed cruelly and he another man lifted her cage and took to her to an unknown place.

She was taken to a camp. There were dozens upon dozens of people and many tents erected on a plot of land that had to have been bulldozed into a clearing. Laurel was shaking; and confused. Why did they take her? What did they want? She thought back to every bad thing she'd ever done in her life. Was this her punishment for something? She didn't remember doing anything bad enough to warrant his. Maybe it was taking Oliver from Sara. She and her younger sister both had a crush on the young man. Laurel felt that she was better suited to the scion, but Sara had more in common with him. Oliver and Sara had both attended a party when Laurel was twenty, and she decided not to go. She couldn't remember what measly excuse she conjured up to stay home, headache? Stomachache? Cramps? Either way, she had waited until the party was in full swing before calling her dad, giving a tip about underage drinking. The result? Sara was grounded for two months and Laurel had a new boyfriend.

Laurel was broken out of her thoughts when her cage door swung open and someone reached it and dragged her out. She was taken to one of the more central tents and pushed into a chair. She scratched at her arm nervously, waiting for whatever was coming. A man with blonde hair and cold blue eyes walked in. "I do hope my men weren't too rough with you." British. "I am Edward Fyers. What is your name?"

"Laurel Lance," she answered. "Please, help me. I was on a boat and it sunk, and I washed up here." Her green eyes turned watery as she fought back tears. "Please," she pleaded again. The man sat down and tilted his head a bit to the side, studying her.

"I'm going to need you to answer a few questions for me," Fyers continued as if Laurel had never spoken.

"I- okay." Laurel swallowed. "What do you need answered?" He shuffled through some papers on his desk and pulled one out. It was of Yao Fei. Laurel collected herself from her slight surprise, schooling her features and falling back on her pre-law classes. Lawyers had to be good at keeping straight faces. "Do you know this man?"

"No," Laurel shook her head. "Who is he?" Fyers placed the picture down gently and leaned forward. His cold eyes met her weary ones and he pointed at her.

"You are a good liar, Miss Lance," he admitted. "But, not good enough to fool me." He leaned back and clasped his hands. "Do you know where you are?" Laurel shook her head again, slowly. "This island is called Lian Yu. It's Mandarin for purgatory," he said and then smiled gently at her. It made Laurel's insides freeze. "But I can make it feel like Hell."

"I'm not lying to you," she explained loudly, shooting to her feet. "I don't know who that man is! I'm just shipwrecked!"

"You stabbed one of my men with an arrow, Miss Lance," Fyers continued. Oh, shit. "Where did you get it?"

"I found it," Laurel answered. Kind of true. He sighed, standing up.

"As fun as this is, I have other things to do. Maybe my associate here can help jog your memory." He motioned with his hand, and from behind her Laurel heard someone approaching. She turned her head to see a man with a mask that was half black and half orange. All the bravado Laurel had managed depleted quickly at the look in the man's dark eyes. It looked like he had no soul. "Try to get as much out of her as you can. I want to know what she knows. Use any means necessary, but keep her alive," Fyers ordered before making his exit.

The man stood there, gaze piercing and menacing. Laurel backed up as the man took a large step towards her and she tripped over a chair. She fell to the ground hard and she barely had to time to process the fall before the man was on her, seizing both of her wrists with one hand in a tight grasp. She kicked out, hitting his knee. He barely stumbled and lifted her, tossing her face first into a pole. Her vision dimmed a bit at the hit, and he used that to his advantage to tie her hands above her head, connecting the rope to the top of the pole. He reached in front of her, ripping her shirt open enough to reveal her bra.

Laurel heard the sound of one of his swords attached to his back unsheathe and tears filled her eyes and rolled down her face. He put the pointed tip to her stomach, dragging it up her skin, pushing the material of her button up out of the way. The sharp blade cut through the front of her bra and it fell to the floor. "No," she sobbed, trying to lean into the pole to get as much distance between them as possible. "Please, no."

He wasn't listening. Laurel was actually pretty sure he enjoyed hearing her beg if the erection digging into her hip was any indication. His other hand reached around her to unbutton and unzip her jeans, pulling the fabric and her underwear down in one motion. Her sobbing got worse; this wasn't happening. She was dreaming. This had to be a nightmare. She heard his own zipper being undone and she closed her eyes.

No.

Laurel wasn't sure if five minutes had gone by or five hours. She was sore; wasn't sure if the pain radiating from her new cuts that now littered her torso and back or if the pain between her legs was worse. She felt like she had been ripped in half and was sure there was blood caking between her thighs from the man's force. He had pulled her pants back up, but it offered little comfort because other men under Fyers' control had come into the tent to watch this man rape and torture her.

She had never felt so humiliated and violated as she did at that moment. Fyers showed his face a few minutes after the man had finished, thankfully not inside her, and walked around her shaking form still attached the pole. He watched the blood from her wounds seep through her barely held together shirt. "Are you ready to answer my questions honestly now, miss Lance?" Laurel tipped her head back, staring at the man defiantly.

"I do not know the man in the picture," she asserted in a tone she hoped sounded strong. Fyers sighed in disappointment.

"Pity." His eyes cut towards Laurel's rapist and then back to her. "Kill her." She felt the blade bite at her neck as the man prepared for the killing strike when the shouts started.

Yao Fei burst through the tent, arrows flying and green hood up. Fyers ducked for cover and the man in the mask was forced back by Yao Fei's weapons. They started fighting, the man's hand to hand combat skills on par with the archer's, before Yao Fei got the upper hand and knocked the man in the mask down. He walked towards Laurel, cutting her down from the pole and slinging her over his shoulder when she had difficulty running. He expertly turned himself around without Laurel falling off his shoulder to nock an arrow and send it flying into someone's chest.

They made good time back to the cave. Yao Fei was able to cover their tracks well and as soon as they got back, Laurel was set down gently against the cave wall. She let out a low whine when her pains became noticeable again; the adrenaline was wearing off quickly.

Yao Fei got some herbs together, urging her to drink. From the taste, Laurel was pretty sure it was the same medicinal herbs she drank before. He hovered over anxiously as she drank the ashy medicine, and as soon as she finished, he stood up with his bow in hand. "You stay," he ordered, making his way to the mouth of the cave.

"Wait," Laurel gasped, pushing herself to her feet. "Don't leave me, please!" A large boulder moved in front of the cave's entrance, sending her into darkness.

As per usual for Laurel's life at that time, she had no idea how much time had passed. She was pretty sure she ran out of food and water days ago. She was sure the effects of dehydration were starting to take effect on her mind when Sara sat down in front of her. Sara's bright blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, bangs hanging loosely across her forehead. Her blue eyes were just as bright and mischievous as always. "You know it was me, right?" She questioned in a soft tone, moving to sit next to Laurel's prone form. The brunette swore she could feel Sara's body heat through the thin material of her shirt.

"What was you?" Laurel asked, remembering the question her sister asked. Those blue eyes looked softer and a bit guilty.

"I'm the one who was supposed to be on the yacht with Ollie," she admitted. "You know it's true. You've seen the glances between the two of us when we think you aren't looking. You've seen the way I laugh a little bit louder when he's around." Sara kept throwing all these facts at Laurel, facts she didn't want to acknowledge. Facts she knew were true. "You know that I'm a little bit in love with him."

That was the final straw for Laurel's sanity. She threw the empty bowl that previously contained the herbs at the place where Sara was seated, but she was gone, leaving the bowl to shatter against the cave wall. She was shaking; in pain, in rage, in fear. She was twenty-two years old, goddamnit! Why was this happening to her? She fell back into a seated position and cried. Cried for Robert, cried for herself. For her father, her mother, Sara, Tommy, Ollie.

Laurel thought she was going to marry Oliver Queen. Had the whole thing planned out in her head. His best man would be Tommy, her maid of honor would be Sara, obviously. Her bridesmaids would have worn champagne colored dresses to match the sash she would wear around her waist. Oliver would stare at her like she was the only woman in the world for him.

That wasn't the case, though, was it? She might have been a woman in his life, but she would never be the only woman. She needed to be the only one. How could she naively believe that Oliver fucking Queen would ever commit to her? Could the playboy even be monogamous? She began to wonder how many women he cheated on her with. One? Three? A dozen? How could she have been so stupid? So blind? You were in love, her mind whispered.

It was true. She had been in love. No longer, though. Oliver Queen could kiss her ass. "Now that you're dead," Sara continued, rematerializing in front of Laurel again. "Ollie and I can be together. We can by happy. We both know that you and Oliver could never truly be happy unless he stopped sleeping around."

"Stop," Laurel pleaded in a whisper. She clearly didn't need the reminder. Why was Sara doing this to her? "Please, stop!"

"Help him right my wrongs, Laurel," Robert Queen said, taking Sara's place when Laurel opened her eyes back up. He was a ghastly sight; he looked just as he did when she last saw him. Deathly pale and with a blood trailing down his neck from a bullet wound blown into the side of his skull. "You need to survive this to help my son right my wrongs."

"How?" Laurel snapped, standing up on shaky, weak knees. "How am I supposed to do that, Mister Queen? I'm dying."

"Stay strong, Lore," Sara whispered in her ear, though Laurel couldn't see her, and Robert had disappeared, too. As soon as they were both gone, the boulder in front of the cave entrance moved and Yao Fei entered.

"Where have you been?" Laurel spit in anger. "I ran out of food and water iidaysii ago." She stopped when she saw him drag someone in behind him. It was Fyers. "You," she seethed, moving forward with renewed strength to punch with a quick right hook, followed by an uppercut with her left before she fell to the ground as her strength diminished quickly. Fyers fell down with her, landing on his side, but still facing her. "I'm going to kill you," she hissed out, green eyes narrowed.

"No," Yao Fei cut in, helping her back up and grabbing a flask of water from his hip so she could drink.

"No? What do you mean, 'no'? Do you know what the maniac did to me? What he let one of his men do to me?" Laurel shook her head, dirty brown hair tumbling down her shoulders. "He needs to die."

Laurel never thought those words, those thoughts, would be a part of her. She was raised knowing that murder was wrong, and that she should always trust that the judicial system would do what it was supposed to do; bring justice to those that deserved it. She knew that killing this man wouldn't bring her justice, but fuck, would it feel good. Her dad would be disappointed in her, probably. Her mom, too. Sara wouldn't, though. She remembered when the blonde had punched one of her classmates in the face for teasing another boy. Sara was a fighter. Maybe it was time Laurel became one, too.

"He can take you home," Yao Fei said, breaking her from her thoughts of vengeance. She paused; her head tilted as she considered his words.

"Are you sure?" She had to be certain. Fyers didn't seem like the type of man who could be trusted, but Yao Fei was. Laurel trusted the Chinese man with everything in her. Yao Fei nodded, his dark eyes conveying his hope that Fyers was telling him the truth before they showed up in the cave. Laurel nodded, understanding, but she glared hotly over at Fyers. The blonde man was staring at them both in surprise.

"So, you were lying to me, Miss Lance," the man mused.

"Shut up," Laurel snapped. "No one wants to listen to you speak right now." God, what was this island doing to her?

A few minutes later, the three were traveling towards where a plane was supposed to be landing soon, Yao Fei in front with his bow at the ready and Laurel was trailing behind with Fyers in front of her. "How well do you know him?" Fyers questioned in a low tone. Laurel stayed silent. "Did you know this island was a prison? We were sent here to pick up two prisoners who escaped. One of them works for me; I believe you two became acquainted with each other quite quickly." Laurel paused for a moment, letting that information sink in. Fyers must have noticed her hesitation because he stopped as well and turned to look at her. "He was the second prisoner we were sent after." Laurel studying the blonde man for a moment, shifting her gaze over his shoulder to glance at Yao Fei, and then made up her mind rather quickly.

Fyers was not to be trust. Period. She trusted Yao Fei. The man had kept her safe and rescued her from Fyers and his men. She shoved at Fyers' shoulder again, pushing him forward until they came to a clearing. Yao Fei handed the blonde man a radio. "Call men to bring plane," he ordered. Fyers grabbed the radio and smiled at them cruelly. Laurel's insides froze at that look and she took a step closer to Yao Fei.

"No need," Fyers commented airily. "They're already here." Laurel gasped when a figure moved out from behind a tree, that orange and black mask bringing back events from a few days previous. Yao Fei grabbed her arm and shoved her towards the entrance they just came through.

"Run," he ordered.

"What about you?" She cried, shuffling back.

"Run!" Laurel did.

She didn't make it far before she had to stop when it was getting dark. Laurel knew she couldn't go back to the cave. Fyers knew where it was, so that means his mean would, too. She hunkered down, lighting a small fire to keep warm. It didn't take long for her to pick up on the sounds of someone coming towards her, so she kicked some dirt over the fire and took off behind a tree.

Laurel peeked from behind the tree, only seeing one mercenary. She steeled herself, gripping the knife Yao Fei had given her earlier tightly in both hands. She took a deep breath, and when the mercenary stepped past her tree, she pounced. The tip of the knife slid cleanly through the man's neck, but got stuck in the spinal cord. The man dropped, taking the knife with him. Laurel scrambled back, gagging as she remembered the feel of pushing through the spine.

She watched the mercenary jerk and gasp for a few moments before finally stilling. She had just killed a man. She stared at his form for a little longer, but the need to save Yao Fei pushed aside any lingering guilt for killing someone who would've done the same to her.

Trudging over the fallen man, she pulled the knife out of his throat, wincing at the squelching sound it made, and rubbed the blood off the blade on her jeans. She looked at her barely held together shirt and tattered jeans, and then back at the dead body in front of her with a head tilt.

She had an idea.

Walking into Fyers' camp had been much easier than she expected. With a balaclava covering her face and the dead man's larger clothes covering her feminine form, Laurel slipped passed people with relative ease. She nodded at someone who acknowledged her and made sure not to speak to anyone.

All she had to do was find where they kept prisoners. She vaguely remembered where her own cage was, and tried to back-track. She managed to make it without any troubles, and peeked around the cages. "Yao Fei?" She whispered, trying to find him. "Yao Fei?"

"Looking for something?" Laurel's spike straightened and her body went cold. Fuck. She turned slowly, seeing Fyers standing there with a pleasantly curious look on his face and standing in a relaxed pose. "Nice to see you again, Miss Lance."

"Can't say the feeling's mutual," she spat, hoping she sounded much braver than she felt. Fyers smiles, seemingly amused, and then motioned for one of the men behind him to grab her.

The man moved forward, ripping the balaclava off her head and gripped the top of her arm tightly. She thrashed and screamed, kicking at his shins. Another one came up, tying her hands together behind her back. "I assume, Miss Lance. That you are here for him?" Fyers added, motioning with his head towards another mercenary behind him. The balaclava came off and Yao Fei's brown eyes looked back at her guiltily.

Laurel's breathing hitched; Yao Fei was one of them? Had he always been one of them? Why would we try so hard to keep her alive and then try to help her find a way home if he was just going to betray her? "I came back for you," she whispered brokenly, and then glared at Yao Fei. "I came back for you! Have you been with him since the beginning?" She accused harshly, snarling when one of the other mercenaries pulled her closer to Yao Fei and Fyers. Yao Fei just looked at her before she was dragged off. "I trusted you!" She shouted back over her shoulder, kicking the mercenary holding her again for good measure.

Her hair was gripped tightly and pulled back, making her let out a grunt of pain. "Kick me again, bitch, and watch what happens," he growled. Laurel lifted her green eyes, glaring into the pools of brown shown through the eye holes of the balaclava. Mustering up the rest of bravery, she spit in his face. The backhand to her left cheek sent her to the ground, jarring her shoulder. She was pulled back to her feet and dragged into a clearing where what looked like most of Fyers' men were gathered in a circle. They parted, and Laurel watched, horrified, as the man who assaulted her before was fighting another man.

The masked man had a clear advantage, using his superior height and strength to quickly one-up the other, before finally grabbing him in a backwards chokehold. The resounding crack of the man's spine would give Laurel nightmares for weeks. The masked man looked over in her direction. Bile rose up in her throat. Please let my death be quick, she prayed to whatever God existed. "So, it's me and him again?" She questioned with false bravado. Fyers' amused expression never left his face, watching as Laurel was pushed into the middle of the circle, her bounds being cut.

She whirled around, looking for any available exit. When she made her second circuit around, someone was facing her. It wasn't the masked man – no, that would've been far too easy for her.

It was Yao Fei.

At least he'd make it quick. Yao Fei attacked; still recovering from her ordeal earlier, Laurel was slow to block and was slow to strike. Like it was child's play, Yao Fei had her in a chokehold, a strong forearm cutting off her air supply. She gasped, smacking at the limb choking her, but nothing helped. Her vision started blacking out around the edges and her limbs started giving heavy. She tried to get in air one last time before the darkness completely overtook her.

Laurel came to what felt like seconds later and she felt like she was under water. Correction: she was indeed under water. Swimming to the surface, she took in deep breaths, coughing at both the water and the pain around her windpipe. She swam to land, collapsing against the ground and looked around. How had Yao Fei gotten her out? Pulling herself to her feet, she noticed that there was something tucked into the shirt she was wearing. After pulling it out she saw it was a map. Written on it was only word – Shengcún. Survive. "Alright, Yao Fei," she sighed, following the map. "Let's see where you want to me to go."

A day later, she stumbled upon a downed plane. It was broken into three parts with the end the largest and most held together section. She looked over the map again, double checking, and made her way forward cautiously. She stepped into the plane, squinting her eyes in hopes of being able to see better.

A blade was pressed to her throat almost instantaneously and Laurel held her breath. "Twitch and I'll open your throat."

Goddamnit, Yao Fei.