(A/N): I wrote this well before the most recent set of episodes, so some details got jossed. I'd still like to see something like this, though.
Rage is not hot.
Rage is … cold.
Everything is cold.
Everything is cold and swirling in mist and crusted with frost, and under her, Jay's skin is white and his lips are blue.
"You wanted this," she says to him. "Didn't you?"
The icicle in her hand is thick enough for her to grip it firmly at its base, tapering down to a razor-sharp point that hovers just over Jay's heart. He has to breathe very, very shallowly for it not to cut right through his Star Labs sweatshirt.
The shirt they'd given him when he'd first arrived.
"I - " he stuttered. "I - "
"You were watching us," she crooned. "For months. You saw all of us. You saw what we needed. What we wanted. What we'd lost. And you made yourself into those things and fit yourself into us like a puzzle piece."
She'd been fooled by his warm, easy smile. By the scientific mind. By the gentle flirtation. By the way he asked for her help. By the way he needed her to save him. By the way he'd looked at her as if she were the only thing that mattered.
They'd all reminded her so much of Ronnie.
Ronnie who she missed like something had been cut out of her. Cut out over and over again. You could only lose something so many times before it all went numb, and Jay had saved her from going numb.
Until.
Until she knew.
Not Jay.
Never Jay.
All a lie.
Her knees press against his hips. It's a familiar position. She'd moved over him like this before, his fingers on her naked skin, panting, moaning, at the sensation of being touched again, being loved again.
LIE.
Outside the pipeline cell, Cisco and Barry hammer on the glass, screaming. The mechanics are frozen solid, coated in ice. They won't budge no matter what Cisco does. She lets them scream.
"What did you want?" she whispers to Jay. His panted breath spills out in clouds, but hers is cold enough that he turns his head away from where it hits his skin. "Did you come here to make your own little gang? Were you jealous of your double, Hunter? Did you intend to set yourself up as Zoom here, on this Earth?"
His mouth trembles. What a weak mouth he had. How had she never noticed?
"How terribly were you disappointed when none of us manifested the things you wanted? Cisco's not Reverb and he never will be. He never could be. Ronnie is gone. He'll never be Deathstorm. And me - well. One out of three isn't bad, is it?"
"I cared about you," he chokes out.
She lowers the icicle a millimeter. He stops breathing entirely.
"Maybe I believe that," she says. "Maybe. Or maybe you knew that was the way to turn me. To break my heart and let the cold flow out."
He mouths something. She doesn't know what it is. She doesn't care.
"It doesn't matter," she says. "You lied. You lied for so long. You put my friends in danger. You put both our earths in danger. For what? For me? To get your own frozen pet?"
She smiles. Though she doesn't know, it's the perfect replica of a blue-painted sneer of a smile on Earth-2.
"What an accomplishment," she tells him. "Enjoy your success. You made me this."
A single droplet of water trickles down the side of her icicle - down, down, down, until it reaches the tip, resting against the Star Labs logo. A tiny wet circle blooms in the cloth like blood from a pinprick.
He shuts his eyes and presses his lips together. He doesn't look at all heroic now.
She rises to her feet and steps off him, to the side. His eyes open, blank with terror and confusion. He stares up at her.
"But I make me this," she says, and hurls the icicle.
Sideways.
Not down.
It bites deep into the metal wall. He lets out a choked cry and folds up like a pillbug, trembling.
She closes her eyes and drags the razor ice and the crawling frost and the bitter, bitter cold back into herself, folding it up, packing it in, caging it in her broken heart, locking it firmly away.
She turns in time to see the door, freed from its frozen lock, spring open. Warmth spills in. Barry rushes in with it. "Caitlin!"
"Better not," she says, holding up her hands, and he jolts back, eyes fixed on the mist still swirling off her skin. "Better see to him." She walks past him as Barry drops to one knee to check on Jay.
Just outside the cell, Cisco stares at her.
"I told you Killer Frost would never be on this earth," she says. "I promised you."
He swallows. His hands shake.
When she steps toward him, he doesn't jolt back.
"I haven't killed anyone," she says. "So the name doesn't apply. And it won't."
She starts walking down the ramp, mist swirling around her like a cloak. Tears roll hot down her face.
By the time she reaches the hallway, the mist - and the tears - are gone.
FINIS