Her feet come out from beneath her, her knees going in different directions, and she crumples to the ground. Defeated. Done. As she breathes - hard - and tries to catch her breath, she realises she can't come back from this. She can't.

She has put every part of herself into fighting, but it isn't enough. It'll never be enough. She's just not good enough to pull this off. She's not good enough to keep doing this and survive.

Why is she doing this anyway? What made her think she can fight bad guys?

Rage that her sister died? She thinks that may be it. She likes the idea of helping people, of course, but if she's honest with herself, she started this because she was angry.

She took to the streets and started trying to save people not because she wanted to save someone, but because she needed a release from all that was going wrong in her life. Her sister dying, her problem with alcohol, the lies she told her dad because she wasn't strong enough to tell him the truth about Sara.

Her life has been beating her up for so long that she decided to fight back. But she's losing. Again.

She catches sight of a blur - out of the corner of her eye - and knows that Oliver has come to save her, again. Her fault. She's putting herself at risk when she has no hope of winning, and in doing so, she's endangering those who she considers friends. She's not even sure she cares.

Oliver won't support her doing this. And she never asked him to come and save her. That's his choice. Just like fighting is hers. Still, she feels a warm moving across her cheeks, and a new flush of rage passes through her.

Pushing off from the ground, she staggers to her feet. Runs in the direction she saw the blur. Maybe she's not good enough now - but if she works at it, trains, maybe she'll get there. Maybe she'll be a hero.