Illuminating the interior of S.T.A.R. Labs were fluorescent lights, bright enough to pierce through the skin covering a person's eyeballs. Those lights alone were the main factor in Parker's head when piecing together where she came to at. 

Felicity, however, had no clue that Parker was awake. Sitting by her bedside, she spun in a computer chair, singing, "Parker Elizabeth... Parker Sylas... Parker Sylas-Allen? Parker Allen...?" in various voices to entertain herself, since Oliver refused to. 

The vigilante knew Parker was awake, and had been for a while. He noticed in the change of her chest when she took a breath. He decided to exclude Felicity on the information, if not for more points in their Game of Uncomfortable, for his own personal enjoyment. He allowed the tech woman to continue babbling. 

"Parker, wake up, we need you for our plan," whined Felicity. 

"'Plan,'" echoed Parker, raising her hands over her closed eyelids. "What plan?"

"How long were you awake?" asked Felicity, frowning. She turned to Oliver. "Did you know she was awake?

Oliver decided to ignore the inquiry. "How do you feel, Parker? Do you know where you are?"

"I'm at S.T.A.R. Labs," sighed Parker. 

"How do you know that?" asked Felicity, impressed. 

Parker opened her eyes. She winced, blinking rapidly to adjust her eyes to the light. Irritated, she pointed above them. 

"That's a pretty good factor," agreed Felicity. 

"What's up with my shoulder? Did you successfully fix me?" asked Parker.

"Not exactly," said Felicity softly. 

Parker seethed, "Excuse me?"

Oliver tossed a hat on Parker's stomach. "We decided to wait until you were awake. Put that between your teeth," he ordered. 

"No! I passed out specifically for you to fix me while I was knocked out, you can't just wait for me to wake up, then decide to torture me some more!" yelled Parker. 

"That's too bad," said Oliver flatly. 

Felicity, on Oliver's orders, was forced to hold down Parker's legs and remaining arm, as she continued to kick and punch at his approaching figure. No extra limbs remained to cover Parker's consistent swearing. 

"Stop resisting, you'll just hurt yourself further," warned Felicity nervously. 

Parker continued to scream, this time, screaming the names of every Team Flash member. (Specifically, Barry.) 

Desperate, Felicity muttered, "Oliver, she's terrified. We have to find something to knock her out so we can do this."

Oliver drew his arm back, causing both Felicity and Parker to scream with protest, in utter fear of physical contact for the panicking woman. The duo quieted when a needle was placed into his hand. Shaking his head, he grabbed Parker's flailing arm and steadied it as best as he could. 

"Sorry, kid," he told her sincerely. 

Then, the needle went through Parker's arm. Soon, her blinking came to a stop, and her ears stopped receiving noises.

××××

When Felicity saw Parker's eyes start to flutter, she asked, "Are you alive?"

"Barely," winced Parker. 

"Caitlin says twelve weeks of taking it easy should heal your shoulder," said Felicity. 

"I would listen to her," suggested Oliver. 

"Thanks," said Parker. "Thanks for knocking me out, too, Oliver. I appreciated the drugs and not your fist."

Oliver smirked. "I wouldn't hit you, Parker."

"You know, for some reason, I have a hard time believing that," said Parker. 

Felicity and Oliver decided they wasted enough time postponing the inevitable group discussion. They helped Parker into a wheelchair, then wheeled her into the Cortex, where Dr. Wells, Caitlin, Diggle, Cisco, and Joe were gathered. 

Cisco rushed across the room to hug Parker. "You live!"

"I live," chuckled Parker, hugging him back tightly. 

"How do you feel?" asked Caitlin. 

"Shitty. I think I'll survive, though."

"As you do," said Oliver. He grabbed his uniform and his bow, stepping towards the door with purpose. "I'm going to start searching for Barry."

Parker, distraught, flipped her head between the doorway and the remaining people in the Cortex. "When? How? What?"

"Dr. Wells figured it out," said Felicity, her tone strange. 

"See, I knew the Arrow was Oliver Queen," boasted Cisco excitedly. He then scratched his head. "I mean, I had it narrowed down to a list of one hundred and fifty people, but he was definitely on that list."

Diggle stared at Cisco until the man's overjoyed smile turned flat. He looked to the others. "Do you have a way to stop Barry's rage fest?"

"I have an idea about how to do that. Joe, I'm going to need your help," said Dr. Wells. 

"I have him," said Felicity from the computer. "Facial recognition picked him up on a traffic camera downtown."

Barry was shown verbally taunting a bruised and beaten Eddie Thawne. The sound didn't have to patch through to the Cortex for them to see he was livid. He began to lean down, fist drawn back, when an arrow shot dangerously close by his face. He whipped around. 

Collective sighs of relief circled the Cortex. 

"I hope they turn Barry back before he kills Oliver," prayed Caitlin. 

"Me, I'd be more worried about what Oliver might have to do to Barry," disagreed Diggle. 

Caitlin tilted her head. "Barry has superpowers; Oliver has a bow and arrow."

"Do you have any idea how many people Oliver has killed with that bow and arrow?" asked Diggle. 

"Recurve bow arrows can travel up to three hundred feet per second, so two hundred miles an hour. Barry can run three times that fast," said Cisco proudly. 

"Whatever," said Diggle, rolling his eyes. "Oliver's been doing this a lot longer. My money's on experience."

"My money's on speed," bet Cisco. 

"Please tell me you're not actually having this conversation right now," sighed Felicity, ashamed of her colleagues. 

"We should go," decided Dr. Wells. 

Parker jerked her skinny arms on the wheels of the chair, snatching the keys from the hook beside the door. "I call driving!"

An excited twinkle in her eyes, Felicity uttered, "The Fast and the Furious: Parker Edition," which turned out to be an entirely accurate description of what was to happen next. 

××××

Despite the woozy feeling in her head, the nauseating motion in her stomach, Parker buried the sickness for two reasons. First, helping Barry was important. Second, she would be crazy to pass up the chance to ditch safe driving. 

"Dr. Wells, get ready for one crazy ride," warned Parker. 

He shifted from his wheelchair and into the passengers seat rather gracefully. He applied his seat belt, ensuring it was tight against his chest, then grabbed the arm rests for dear life.

Clear road ahead, and a destination to arrive quickly at, Parker slammed her foot on the gas pedal and sped out of the S.T.A.R. Labs garage as though she was going Back to the Future. 

Parker tried desperately to hold her arm still while she drove wildly through the streets of Central City. She briefly followed the G.P.S. She mainly followed the red dot and drove faster than the voice could direct her. 

Poor Dr. Wells squeaked when she took off. 

"It's okay, Doc, this car and I have a bond. This one's my favorite," assured Parker. 

"This is the only one you've driven," said Dr. Wells, confused. 

Parker paused, then nodded, a fake shake of her head. 

"I don't believe you're supposed to use the company cars unless it's a destination given by the company," sighed Dr. Wells. 

"I like to believe that doesn't apply if said person almost died here," disagreed Parker. "However, I will start asking."

To other people, joking about a traumatic experience could be diagnosed as a way of hiding pain. For Parker, it was the exact opposite. Finding humor in her brush with death was a way to come to peace with it. Turning it into a joke was helping her to throw it in the past. 

It didn't matter what other people thought about her methods of coping. What mattered, in the end, was Parker imminent return to her normal self. Whether that was joking about it, or finding a minor distraction in the people around her, becoming okay with what she went through was happening slowly, but surely. 

"Parker, turn, turn, turn!" said Dr. Wells quickly. 

"That's what I get for zoning out while driving," shamed Parker. 

Squeals from both Dr. Wells and Parker occurred when she made a sharp turn into the alleyway. The headlights of the truck illuminated the darkness between the buildings, allowing them to see Oliver tricking Barry into a choke hold. 

Parker accelerated towards the two. 

"Okay, I should have asked this earlier, but this is going to work, right?" wondered Parker.

"He just needs to see the right colors," assured Dr. Wells. "Now, Parker!"

In one quick, fluid motion, Parker jerked her left hand from twelve to six. She pivoted the car, then hit the brake, forcing the car to come to a screeching stop mere feet away from Oliver and Barry. 

Thanks to Dr. Wells pressing a button on his remote, the side doors to the van blew open. Varying colors of lights brightly flashed into Barry's open eyes. He stopped struggling to wiggle from Oliver's grip. Furiously blinking, his chest heavily rising and falling. He let out a deep breath. 

Parker turned her earpiece on. "I don't know about you guys, but I think would count that as a tie."