#kiki242

She needs to get out. She needs to crawl and fight until she dies. But it seems so difficult. She's so tired. She is choking and she wants it to stop. To lay down and know it will stop.

"Laurel!"

There is a voice. That is her name, she remembers. Like everything had floated away from her as dark spots edged into her vision.

She wonders who it is and why they are here. They shouldn't be here, in flames. It was impossible.

And somewhere in the recesses of her mind, a thought comes to her. It must be Sara. Sara must have come for her. She must be dead and this must be hell and Sara was here.

No, that was wrong, Laurel thinks. Sara could not be in hell. This was wrong.

Laurel blinks a few times. She's dizzy and the ceiling starts spinning but that must mean that she was alive.

"Laurel." The voice calls again.

"Sara?" She does not know if she whispers it or thinks it. But that name, that most precious of words, must be a beacon. Because a face hovers above her then, like the tug of that thought, the tug of her heart must have pulled someone to her.

It is not Sara. She coughs as strong hands slide under her back and pull her up. It is not Sara, but she knows those hands and even though everything was dying, she was dying, she allows herself to feel safe just for a second.

"Laurel, we have to go." Nyssa says, trying to pull her up.

Laurel's body feels like its apart from her. She cannot force her legs to move. Everything is numb, like she is drunk, like she is heavy and sinking, like she is nothing.

"Just go." She says. She doesn't know if Nyssa even hears her over the lion's roar of the flames.

"Not without you!" Nyssa cries. "Don't you dare make me lose someone else that I love, Laurel Lance. Weakness does not become you." Nyssa's voice is hoarse and she coughs. From where she is cradled against her Laurel feels it, like it's rattling her bones.

And she knows then that Nyssa is right, that they had to leave, because Sara was dead but Nyssa was alive, and she was here and she loved her and she was asking her to.

So she shrugs off her numbness. She breaks her bones like wings spreading out. She sobs and chokes until the cold night air hits her face, until oxygen punches her lungs back to life.

Nyssa doesn't let go of her the entire way, nor the entire way home after that. Laurel doesn't want her to.

"You should get some sleep." Nyssa says. She'd watched Laurel drink what felt like an ocean of water and she had laid her down in clean sheets as gentle as if Laurel were a baby bird.

When Nyssa shifts to get up and leave the room, Laurel takes her hand, stilling her.