AN: I know there's a million of these, but they're one of my favorites to read, so I'm gonna write one. End of discussion.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Flash.
Some days, bitter reminders of what's happened in our past are all around us. Sometimes they're there when you close your eyes, and you're afraid to blink; afraid to sleep. Sometimes they're there when you open your eyes, in the scenery around you. Sometimes they were there when your eyes were shut, and when they were opened; when you turned around or stayed put. They acted as a crushing weight that you had no ability to lift, and didn't wish to trouble everyone else with your problems. So you kept the burden to yourself.
However much Caitlin Snow wished to keep it a secret, that she saw reflections on the window that weren't actually there, that her breath hitched every time something was knocked over -people noticed. She assured them that she would be fine, that it was nothing to be worried about. She was just tired, that was all. Wells asked if she was okay when the spells happened. He didn't push it further when she didn't reply or said she was fine. Cisco was always there for her, and Barry did what he could.
But the rainstorm that started emitting lightning strikes a few minutes before she was about to leave STAR Labs made it difficult for her to pretend it was okay. Dr. Wells was busily working downstairs; it wouldn't be difficult for her to avoid him. Cisco had already left with the remark that he was done with his smart shit today. She had assumed Barry had gone, too. She was contemplating pushing through it, and going home even though the blue hue of the lightning strikes were hauntingly familiar.
She even had her purse in hand, and had entered the "doctor's office" to grab her keys. A bright blue flash came, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. All thoughts of going home left her mind, and she slid her purse back onto the table. Her breaths became rapid as the flashes continued, and she fought to keep her focus on something other than the reflections on the windows or the lightning. Her head began to spin, and her hands began to draw up. She eased herself into a chair, folding her arms on the table and lying her head down.
It would pass. She would be okay. It would pass.
Barry was about to leave STAR Labs when he heard it. The fast breathing that was much heavier than breathing should be, which was accompanied by a choked sob every few seconds. He looked around, frantically, his first thought that someone was hurt. But then lightning struck, and his eyes shot straight to the place Caitlin had tended to so many broken bones. A mop of brown hair was resting on the table, the woman's back rising and falling quickly. Barry didn't run in, so as not to scare her, but rather walked to her side.
She flinched at his touch when his tentative hand met her shoulder.
"Caitlin -Cait, it's okay. It's me. It's Barry," She eased her tension a little at his words, but her breaths continued to come rapidly.
She lifted her head slowly, as if it took an effort (and judging by the red of her face and the crippled stature of her hands, it probably did). Her eyes were puffy, and if she had been wearing any makeup it would've been smeared to no end. Her ponytail, messy in the first place, was matted and was only loosely in the tie still.
Barry kept his hand on her back, rubbing circles that he hoped were comforting. Caitlin's arms dropped to her lap, and she buried her face in Barry's chest.
"I can't do it, Barry," She said, her words, muffled against his shirt, not running together smoothly, "I can't even look out a window, or in a mirror...and here I am, acting like a toddler in a thunderstorm,"
"Cait, it's okay. Your state right now -it's perfectly normal. You've been through a lot, you have to give yourself credit," Barry said.
"I don't want this to keep happening. I don't want to be like this every time something throws me off," Caitlin said, her breathing slowing down a fraction.
"You have to remember that we're here for you, Caitlin. I'm here for you. You don't have to pretend like it's nothing, or try to hide it around us, because I know you do," Barry said.
Caitlin took a while to form her reply, "What if I don't get better, Barry?"
Barry didn't hesitate, "You will. I'll make sure of it,"
Caitlin lifted her head and forced a smile. Barry grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Caitlin's gaze shifted to the window. The rain had almost stopped, and all that remained of the storm was a slow drizzle that lighting was absent from. She turned away before Zoom's face could plant itself in the glass. In all honesty, she didn't feel like returning home.
"You're not feeling up to going home, are you?" Barry asked, although it hardly sounded like a question.
She shook her head no.
"I can walk you, if you want," Barry offered.
She shook her head no again, "I'll just stay here,"
"Are you sure?" Barry asked her.
She yawned, and nodded her head faintly, "...yeah,"
Barry could tell she hadn't gotten much sleep in a while. Her head starting lolling forward, her nose hitting his shoulder involuntarily. Barry picked her up, bridal style, and set her down on the bed (it was close enough to a bed, anyway) and covered her with the thin sheet. Barry was afraid that if he were to leave, Caitlin would wake up from a night terror and need someone there, and no one would. So he sat in the chair, however stiff and uncomfortable it was, and stayed there.
His consciousness didn't hold for much longer, and he found himself drifting off as well. His head found its place on a section of the cushion where Caitlin was sleeping, and he succumbed to fatigue.
Both slept peacefully, unaware that Cisco had come in two hours early the following morning. Resisting the urge to yell 'yo, lovebirds, up and at em!', he had simply left the room with a grin on his face. He could use this to his advantage, some day.
AN: This was originally just a oneshot...but the "he could use this to his advantage, some day" got me thinking.
UPDATE: I am continuing. Expect the second chapter by December 1, I need a little while to think of a good way to weave it in.