One minute Caitlin is in the Cortex, minding her own business and running calculations on whether or not their fix for the Speed Force is going to hold, and then with a whoosh and a red streak she finds herself standing in the time vault with windswept hair.
"Barry!" she gasps.
"No time to explain," he says before speeding off.
"I—" she groans.
In another flash he's back, this time with Harry in tow.
"Allen, what—?" Harry starts to scold, but Barry cuts him off.
"No time, I just need you both to stay here."
"In the time vault?" Caitlin asks, confused.
"Yes, I'll be back for you later...ish."
Before she can stutter out a response he's gone again, the door closing behind him.
With a long-suffering sigh, Harry tries to open the door, but it won't budge.
"Gideon, open the door," he orders.
"Hello, Dr. Wells," Gideon greets. "I'm afraid I—I—"
The AI's voice stutters and falls silent, and the room falls into darkness.
"Gideon? What happened?"
Caitlin reaches into her pocket, grateful her skirt actually has pockets, and fishes out her phone. She turns on the flashlight mode, angling it up, casting a dim light around her immediate vicinity.
"Barry must have disabled her," Caitlin suggests. "He's the only one who knows how, and if it were an EMP it would have fried my phone as well.
"Then there's no way to open this door. We're trapped."
Trapped. With Harrison Wells, she thinks, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.
"I'm, um, sure that Barry had a good reason," she tries, but then frowns, "probably."
Running a hand through his already ruffled hair, Harry leans against the wall and slides to the floor.
"You're positive there's no other way out of here?" she asks him.
Caitlin paces the edge of the room, her fingers trailing over the wall, trying to detect any sign of another hidden door.
"After Barry first showed me this place, I studied every inch of it. That door is our only way in or out. Without power there is no way to open it," Harry tells her.
"Oh."
Caitlin stands in the middle of the room awkwardly, chewing her bottom lip, not sure what to do.
"Would you please sit down," Harry complains. "I don't like people standing over me. It makes me anxious."
"Sorry," she mumbles, making her way closer to him.
Following his lead, Caitlin sits down with her back to the wall a few feet away from Harry.
She sets the phone down between them.
"I hate this room," she admits after several minutes of silence.
"Why? It's technologically fascinating. When it has power, at least."
She hesitates; she hadn't truly meant to voice her opinion, it just slipped out.
"It's not so much the room itself," Caitlin explains, "but what it reminds me of."
"Your Wells."
Her stomach twists.
"He wasn't really Wells, and he certainly wasn't mine, but yes. Sometimes it's still hard to remember he was always that person. That the man I… I respected and idolized had been playing me for years. Sometimes I don't want to remember."
She stares intently at her lap, her hands resting there, fidgeting nervously.
"Sometimes I like to pretend that he was two different people. That maybe Thawne only came into the picture much later. This room, though, it won't let me. Whenever I walk past it I remember that it was here all along, that he was there all along."
Silence wraps around them, stretching out for so long Caitlin can feel her cheeks flushing and embarrassment flood her for her moment of weakness.
"I'm sorry," Harry says simply.
"No, no," she says, waving him off, "please completely ignore everything I just said. I don't know why I told you any of that."
"Because I look like him."
"I know you're not him, though, and I shouldn't have made you an outlet."
"Maybe that's exactly what you need," he suggests.
Harry turns his whole body so he's facing her.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you're never going to get over all the pain he caused you if you keep pretending and living in the past. We need you in the here and now, Snow. So, I want you to use me as an outlet. Everything you've wanted to say to him, every mean thought and hurt feeling, every betrayal he paid you, I want you to get it off your chest."
"You want me to look at you, and tell off our Wells—er—Thawne?"
"Exactly!"
"I can't do that," she argues. "You didn't do anything, Harry! You shouldn't have to keep paying for his actions."
"Oh, come on, Snow. It's like therapy. Besides," he counters, "what else are we going to do in here?"
Her head is turned to the side, studying him, trying to read whether or not he's being sincere.
He's watching her earnestly, waiting for her answer.
Against her better judgment, Caitlin slides her phone out of the way and shifts herself so she's facing him. They are both sitting cross-legged, so close their knees knock together.
Harry straightens his back and smoothes his face into a neutral expression, and just like that she's staring at Harrison Wells, the man who spent years lying to her.
She opens and closes her mouth, the words getting caught in her throat.
"I…I want to hate you," she says quietly. "More than anything, I want to hate you. You used me, lied to me, made me believe you actually cared about m— us. All of us. You betrayed us. You killed innocent people, and injured even more. I want to hate you with every fiber of my being… but I can't."
Harry's brows scrunch in confusion, but he brushes it away, trying to remain neutral.
"Mostly, I just hate myself."
Caitlin looks away, trying to blink back tears.
"I hate myself for not seeing that something was wrong, for not knowing every word from you was a lie. I hate myself for being so self-absorbed that I didn't realize you weren't just pushing me away, that you wouldn't let anyone get close."
She balls her hands into fists, suddenly determined to put the past to rest.
"I wish I could have found the right words to get through to you…" she shakes her head, urging herself to be strong, "but I know that I need to move on. I can't keep dwelling on the past and wishing things were different. Like I said, I want to hate you, but I can't. Hate is too strong an emotion, and you don't deserve my emotions. Not anymore. Where there is hate, forgiveness can be found. So, I may hate myself, but one day I will find forgiveness. For you, though, I feel… nothing."
As she says it, she feels herself grow lighter. She lets out a long slow breath, and lets her head fall forward and shoulders sag.
It's completely quiet in the room, save for their breathing.
"Thank you," she says finally, glancing back up at Harry.
He's very much "Harry" again, and she wonders how he slipped in and out of character so well.
"No thanks needed," he insists.
This time he's the one to look away.
"I, um, didn't know about you two," he says. "That you were… something."
"We weren't," she rushes, "not really. I guess it was more of an almost. Nobody else knows. Cisco always had his suspicions, but after Ronnie and I— well, he kind of dropped it."
"What does almost mean?" Harry asks.
Caitlin bites her lip, not sure she wants to have this conversation.
"Sorry, never mind. I doubt I'm the person you want to talk to."
He waves his hand at his face.
"No," she sighs, "It's okay. I've never talked about it, but maybe I should. Back when we were still building the particle accelerator, Dr. Wells and I worked very closely. There were lots of late nights, and the free open discussions you have at 2 a.m. when all filters fly out the window."
She looks down and starts toying with the edge of her skirt.
"I started to feel something towards him, something I thought he felt too. There were so many longing glances, and electric grazes when we bumped into each other or touched, that I thought for sure he was feeling the same chemistry I was. Then, on one of our late nights in the lab we were talking and he reached out to brush a hair away from my face."
Unconsciously, she reaches up and tucks a curl behind her ear.
"He let his hand rest on my cheek, and then suddenly we were kissing. A lot. When we came up for air, I saw something shift in his eyes, and then he was pulling away. He apologized, said something about stress getting to him and that he overstepped. He said given our working relationship it was completely inappropriate. Suddenly he stopped working so closely with me, and cut off all conversations that weren't completely related to the accelerator. Sometime later I met Ronnie, and that was that."
She peeks up from beneath her lashes to see Harry watching her intently.
"At least I thought that was it. Then the explosion happened, Ronnie was gone, and I was a mess. He was there, though, he and Cisco. Both doing what they could to put me back together. It brought back a lot of emotions I thought were gone. Then the next thing you know, he's trying to kill my best friend."
"It must be hard for you, seeing me every day. I know it's been an adjustment for Allen and Ramon, but I never suspected how hard it must be for you."
"It's not bad, actually," Caitlin tells him. "You're so different from him. Even if you do share a face, I could never really mistake you for him."
Harry actually smiles at that.
"You should have known he was crazy," he says casually.
Caitlin snorts.
"Yeah? Why is that?"
"Because, no man in his right mind would ever kiss you and push you away."
The bubble of laughter that bursts out from her shocks both them, but she can't quite control herself, and it feels good to laugh.
"Maybe I'm a terrible kisser," she giggles after a moment.
Harry glances down at her lips.
"Hmm, I doubt it."
She has no idea what makes her do it.
Caitlin leans in close and wraps her arms around Harry's neck, then ever so slowly she closes the distance and places her lips against his.
His slight gasp of shock gives her an opening and she deepens the kiss, darting her tongue out playfully.
After a brief second of surprise, Harry's arms come up to wrap around her, pulling her closer.
When they pause for a breath, they hold tight to one another, and Caitlin rests her forehead against his.
"Definitely not a bad kisser," Harry murmurs.
Smirking to herself, Caitlin seeks his lips out once more.
"Caitlin," he breathes, pulling back slightly, "I—"
"I know you're not him," she cuts, him off. "That's not what this is."
"Okay then."
His hand comes up to cradle the back of her head and he leans into her.
They end up lying down; Caitlin with her back on the floor, and Harry perched above her. He places a hand on her hip and runs it up her side.
Just as she feels his thumb brush the side of her breast, the lights flicker and flare back on.
Harry pulls away, and sits up, dragging her with him.
The door to the time vault opens and Barry speeds in.
Before she can start berating him, he's gone again, and when Caitlin looks over, she sees he took Harry with him.
Whoosh.
Barry stops in front of her.
"What in the—" whoosh "— hell is going on, Barry Allen?!"
She's back in the cortex, surrounded by people.
"SURPRISE!"
Caitlin's mouth pops open as she looks around at her friends and all the decorations.
"Happy birthday!" Barry cheers.
"I—I— you locked me in the time vault to prepare a party?" she asks, half annoyed, half amused.
"I knew I couldn't leave you alone in there, and Harry volunteered to keep you company. I hope you two weren't too bored."
"I certainly wasn't bored," Harry chimes in from beside her, making her jump.
"No, definitely not."
"Good," Barry beams. "Are you hungry? There's lots of food, and cake, oh man you should see the cake. Oh! And Iris wanted to talk to you, I think she needs wedding advice or something."
"You better go join your party," Harry tells her.
"I will, but I definitely want to finish our discussion later," Caitlin says, hoping she's not the only one. "If you want to, that is."
"I want to," he reassures her with a smirk. "There are quite a few topics left to cover."
He flashes her a wink and she feels her stomach flip in eager anticipation.
"I look forward to it."
Caitlin lets Barry lead her away, feeling much more optimistic than she has in quite a while.