Note: This is one of those triggering ones.

Warning: Self-harm and depression.

...

As Sara scanned the room, making sure she was alone, she sat on her bed with her head in her hands. She would have screamed, but then they would check on her, and she wouldn't cry in front of them.

Still, she grabbed her pillow. Before, all she had felt was rage. Rage at Oliver, at Rip, at Laurel, at herself. How had this happened?

She looked at her knife and remembered the control it gave her. She had the power to control lives, including her own.

She made a cut on her arm. She watched as the blood ran slowly down her arm.

It was memorizing. She didn't know how she would hide it, with her suit being short sleeves and all, but who cared?

As the blood slid down her arm, she thought about Laurel. Why didn't she ignore Rip and save her anyway? Her sister needed her, and she wasn't able to be there. What kind of sister was she?

When Sara cried, she didn't always cry with tears. This time, there were definitely tears. She felt them sliding down her face, almost like it was racing the blood on her arm.

She didn't care how unhealthy this was. It was the only thing that allowed her to be the Captain she was. Rip was gone, and there was no one else.

She was smart. That was why she had told Gideon not to tell anyone. But Gideon could do other things, so Sara always made it quick and shallow.

She grabbed a towel, wiped up her arm, cleaned the knife, tossed it aside, and pulled down her sleeves. As soon as she was done, Ray walked in, which was obviously a failed attempt on Gideon's part to bust her.

"Oh, uh..." Ray said, seeing as she wasn't wearing pants. "Yes?" she asked. She had mastered that act because it almost always made them leave because of the awkwardness. Now everyone thought she had something against pants.

"Gideon told me something was up. Is it your sister?" Ray asked. Sara's warm glow immediately vanished. Ray noticed it, but he let her answer. "Go away, Ray. I'm busy." Ray looked at her. "Doing what? Crying? I see the tear marks, Sara."

Damnit.

"Well, it's none of your business, Ray, and you're not welcome here, so go away," Sara stated. Ray took one last look at her, turned, and left. Sara sighed. She was so close.

She didn't know what she would do without her trusty knife.

...

Ray knew something was up.

He felt like he was doing a puzzle that had a missing piece.

And he had no idea where or how to find it.

Gideon was trying to help, but for some reason, she couldn't.

Maybe Sara had forced her to not? She could command Gideon, after all.

No one else had any ideas, that part was obvious.

Maybe he should just wait by her door...

...

Ray wondered how he was going to be able to sneak in.

Maybe Gideon could help with that?

He decided to talk to her privately.

...

Sara sighed.

The blade felt... amazing.

She made another line.

...

"Ray!"

Ray nodded and bolted to Sara's room.

...

Sara was making another line (fifth) when he door opened.

She heard a gasp, but she didn't really care at the moment.

Suddenly, the knife was snatched from her hand.

She glared at whoever it was.

Ray looked down at her, sadness in his expression.

"I'm sorry," he whispered before she felt a needle in her arm and the blackness was filling her vision.

...

"-ra? Sara?"

She opened her eyes and was greeted by her entire crew, sadness in their expressions.

She gave them a questioning glance before moving to sit up.

She couldn't.

She looked at her wrists.

She was tied down.

She looked at them again.

Then at the exposed scars.

Oh, shit.

"It's not what it looks like," she said quickly.

"Actually, it is. Ray busted you. Remember?" Nate said.

Then it came rushing back.

"I-I-I," she stuttered.

Suddenly, her dad and Oliver stepped into the room.

"Why did you relapse, Sara?" Lance asked.

"Why did you?" she countered.

She struggled against her bindings.

It took Metal Nate, Elephant Amara, and Oliver to hold her down.

She wished she had Barry's powers.

"Sara!" Oliver said.

Sara looked at him, tears in her eyes.

"Laurel."

Lance nodded.

"You aren't sending me to rehab," Sara stated. It wasn't a question.

"Sara... please," Lance said.

"It's not like you're going," she pointed out.

"Well, I'm not making myself bleed on purpose," he pointed out.

"Sara, you have to stop. There are other ways to cope," Ray said.

Sara wished she hadn't been caught.

...

After nine months, she was finally allowed to be around knives again.

The only time she almost relapsed (again) was when her dad died.

...

After she was better, she decided to thank Ray with a cup of coffee in 2357.

One thing led to another, and the ended up becoming closer than friends.