A/N: Hey everyone! So I was feeling extremely uninspired for my writing (hence the unfinished two part story on my profile), but I got an idea. In season 1 of The Flash, we don't really see much of Caitlin's relationship with Eowells. I was thinking, what if he did something to her as well, to complete the full circle of Eowells hurting Team Flash? So I decided upon this idea. I think I dedicated about 2 and a half weeks on this, and the ending might be very rushed, but it's something for me to jog my brain again. I also like how the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements have started up to fight back against rape and sexual harassment, so I think the release of this one shot will promote more awareness.
TW: dubious/non consensual
Note: I do not mean to romanticize rape/non-con/dubious consent in any way, I promise. I wanted to stress how Eobard was someone extremely evil despite what he claims. And yes, some of these characters may be extremely OOC, but I wasn't sure how to fully incorporate their personalities into the story.
Enjoy!
XXXX
The Man Who Destroyed Central City
Ronnie Raymond's death was never supposed to happen. It's something she's still accepting with the pain of a thousand knives.
They'd had it all planned out- where the wedding venue was going to be, how the declarations of love would go, how Ronnie's habit of flipping his hair would inevitably cause his fiancee to slap him during the vows.
Every memory is etched in her brain, and they burn in her mind continually after the accident. Denial had preserved the memories at first, numbing the horror of the explosion. But that hope has all gone, the moment the accelerator incinerated his body, the moment after hours of numbness and waiting, when Caitlin Snow finally realized his fate.
"He's dead," she whispers day and night, in the midst of nightmares and horrible grief. "He's not coming back."
So she buries herself in her work, in watching the heart monitor of the young coma patient at STAR Labs, in collaborating with Cisco's engineering- distancing herself from emotion as her mother once did with herself. Nonetheless, whenever Cisco happens to stay in his workshop past working hours, he can hear her muffled sobs, exhausted and hopeless, echoing down from the cortex. And there is an unspoken rule not to disturb her during an episode, for fear of her personality breaking down. It's fair enough; Caitlin wears her heart on her sleeve, and she is far more sensitive than what strangers might think.
XXXX
Tonight's episode is far, far worse than the norm, and everything on her mind is screaming for help.
Caitlin Snow has her head down, reliving the moments prior to the explosion. A playful kiss from Ronnie. A bad pun from Cisco and subsequent annoyed groans. The accelerator's gleaming lattice.
The deafening fire that threw her to the ground, engulfing her in smoke and dark matter.
All she remembers is horrible pain: fiery lines of agony finely etched into her skin and burning her blood. It hurts, and everytime she thinks it can't get worse, it does. She buries her head further into her arms, blocking out the sounds and memories, and therefore doesn't realize that the motion activated lights have turned on behind her and smooth wheels have rolled up to stop next to her.
"Dr. Snow," she suddenly hears behind her, muffled but present. She slowly removes her hands from her ears and turns in the chair to meet her mentor's piercing blue eyes.
"Dr. Wells?" she asks, eyes still teary. "Why are you still here after hours?" Harrison says nothing but silently maneuvers himself to mere inches in front of Caitlin. She can feel his soft breaths stir her hair, and she tries her best to remain unaffected.
"I could ask you the same question, Dr. Snow." His voice is thoughtful and rough and deep- the tongue of a lion licking at her neck. Caitlin can't help but shiver as he wheels himself toward the comatose young man and smoothly adjusts the nasal cannula. "How is Mr. Allen?" he asks, eyes still focused on his sleeping face.
"H-he's doing well," Caitlin states, slightly stumbling over her words. "I've checked his vitals every half hour or so, and his heart rate hasn't stopped again."
Harrison spins around and concedes with a slight nod, yet his strikingly bright eyes narrow at her. "You're not simply staying here just to check in on our patient, are you?" Caitlin opens her mouth to protest, but he cuts her off. "You live a two minute drive away from here, Dr. Snow." He leans forward in her direction, and though he is yards away from her, she can still feel his astonishingly bright gaze probing her, demanding answers, dragging a soundless sob from her throat.
"Ronnie," she chokes out, and the tears start up again to etch dripping lines down her face. "We were going to be so happy together, and then he… he's gone now." Her brown eyes are reflective and shiny with tears, blurring out her mentor, who is moving slowly towards her shaking figure. When Caitlin manages to compose herself again, Harrison is next to her again and looking at her, lips parted to say something.
The man's eyes are calm and collected, yet the longer he stares at her, the more she can feel the uncomfortable electricity gather on her skin. Why is here here, just mere inches away from her trembling arms? Why do his eyes look like they carry the undertone of an animal's?
Harrison's tongue flicks out to moisten his lips, sending an involuntary shiver through her, and he finally speaks with a rumbling tone. "Dr. Snow, you are a scientist," he begins, "and you cannot let your emotion cloud your work. Ronnie's death was devastating for all of us."
She continues to sob into her arms as he takes off his glasses and gently places them off to the side. "I remember when Tess died," he murmurs, and Caitlin is momentarily shocked. He doesn't talk about the accident 14 years prior; not even Cisco has gone that deep into his trust. "It was exhausting when I emerged from the car and realized she was gone."
He pauses to gaze level headedly at her trembling body. When he speaks again, his voice is deeper, slow and honey thick. "But here we are, fourteen years later, and I'm okay." He leans in slightly closer, close enough so she can see his blue eyes pulsing with energy. "You will be okay too."
Despite the comforting words, they have been laced with something faintly bitter, like cyanide, but Caitlin chooses to ignore it. She simply rubs her arms and quietly asks, "How can I just forget?"
In a hazy flash, Harrison has placed his nimble fingers on the side of Caitlin's tear streaked face. Before she can process the sudden turn of events, both of his hands cup her face gently and his lips are softly flush against her own.
Caitlin sucks in a slight gasp, too stunned to give anything in return, and all she can do is feel the surprisingly soothing way her mentor's mouth works its way around her lips, seeping warmth and gentleness. Harrison takes the lack of response as consent to move forward with increased pressure, sucking and licking tenderly at her swollen mouth. She whimpers from the caress of lips and tongues, sighing ever so slightly and feeling the aching pressure building in her extremities.
Wait, she thinks.
The kiss is blissfully clouding a good portion of her judgement, but Ronnie is still alive in her mind, and her boss who is twice her senior is being inappropriately intimate with her. She starkly realizes that she's making a mistake.
Caitlin breaks away with a start and tears herself away from his grasp, backing away from her wheelchair-bound mentor, realizing too late the danger in his intentions. "Dr. Wells," she whispers, brain clouded and reeling, "why- why did you do that?"
Instead of responding, Harrison grabs her trembling arm, pulls her back to him, and holds her chest firmly against his torso- it's a bit of an awkward position, but it makes do for the situation at hand. Despite the needy gasp that issues from her, Caitlin's eyes are tearing up again from the harsh approach, so he presses his mouth into the soft flesh of her neck, planting gentle, open kisses along her collarbone. The man lifts his head slightly to whisper to her, his voice low and dark. "You have to learn how to move on from him, Caitlin," he murmurs up at her spaced out expression, and he trails his fingers insistently down her spine, feeling every reluctant moan vibrate through her bones. "I am here for you," he adds, voice dropping to the sympathetic whisper that overwhelms her brain.
Then his kiss is again pressing deep and dark against her lips, almost bruising them, and she doesn't know what to think. She's thinking about resisting, but her emotions are conflicted and overridden by the dark, so she keeps silent out of numb fear.
Harrison keeps his head up to watch the transfixed Caitlin, who is running solely on grief and hurt and the absolute need for comfort. "I know what it's like to lose the love of your life," Harrison says, "but you learn to overcome it, Caitlin. I promise you will, but under one condition for me."
"What is it?" Her voice is cracking, but her eyes betray her, her pupils blown into dark pools that drip with desperation and want. She feels depersonalized and exhausted, but there's nothing she can do about it as his petal soft lips drag along the skin next to her earlobe.
"Let me have you, Caitlin Snow."
His mouth works its way up her throat, along her jawline, and back up to grind against her trembling lips. She whines plaintively, but she knows she has lost the battle of caresses and kisses and hunger and blood.
There's nothing Caitlin Snow can do about it, and the mouth that envelops hers burns so much like Ronnie's, so she completely surrenders the fight to Harrison Wells.
XXXX
"Barry! Right on National Street and 47th!"
Of course, due to his clumsiness and overeagerness, Barry Allen, known to the city as The Flash vigilante, struck with inhuman super speed just a few months ago, crashes into a dumpster sticking out of an alleyway. Caitlin flinches slightly as she hears his groans over the comm systems, grateful that she doesn't have to be in that particular line of work.
Cisco laughs a little, sucking a bit on the lollipop in his mouth. "Fastest man alive," he jokes, "yet you can't outrun a dumpster."
"Shut up, Cisco!" His voice is light despite the obvious pain in his words; Caitlin wishes she could smile like that again. "You realize that…"
As her friends banter back and forth, Caitlin hears the familiar turn of wheels behind her, and she spins around in her chair to face an impassive Dr. Wells. His gaze is calm, his posture relaxed, yet Caitlin always feels a shiver of apprehension ripple through her at the sight of him.
Ever since the incident a little while ago, Harrison has not spoken to her about what transpired that night, always keeping his tone professional and sympathetic when speaking to her about the development of Barry's powers, the metahumans in the pipeline, et cetera. It's as if, to him, that night had never happened.
But everytime Caitlin sees his sharp blue eyes lingering on her, she involuntarily remembers his mouth brushing along the surface of her lips, his gaze sending electric flashes throughout her body, his dangerous breath ghosting against her ears. She represses the memories, of course, but any self-respecting doctor who has even taken the psychology course knows that repression just intensifies the memories.
However, it's so hard for her when fear triumphs over reason. And once again, as the psychology course taught her years ago, fear is a dangerous emotion.
But what is the sensation of fear combined with unwanted attraction and need? Especially so soon after her fiancé's unexpected death?
The rest of the team hasn't noticed the faint bruises that decorate her neck, her cheeks, her mouth. Barry has already noticed the withdrawn expressions on her face, and he tries to go up to her and talk about her worries. It warms her aches, but Caitlin doesn't want to burden her friend, and she wants to believe Harrison's goodness, so she makes up excuses about stomach ache and tiredness and distraction, and he raises his eyebrows but takes them as true.
The lies taste bitter against her tongue, but what can she do?
She nods quickly at Harrison, then quickly grabs the mike to say, "Hey Barry, Cisco, I'm going to take a rain check. My head weirdly hurts for some reason, so… good luck finding that water guy." It's a painfully weak excuse, worse than the others; she can see Dr. Wells slightly shift behind her, eyes narrowing in a question.
She hears Cisco scoff lightly behind her as she turns heel towards her makeshift bed, hearing something about bad nicknames and naming privileges. The young woman could care less, however, as she quickly strips down to her undergarments and falls into the soft blankets of the cot.
Despite the exhaustion and confusion prickling at her eyelids, her desperately needed sleep manages to evade her, and she turns in the bed, trying to get the burning memories out of her head. It hurts, even more so than Ronnie's death, because it's accompanied by hot black regret and self-hatred and that uncontrollable need. She's ready to collapse on herself again, ready to hurt again, when she hears the door to the room open and familiar wheels roll into her waking nightmare.
"Caitlin," the deep voice behind her sounds, and her chest aches with desire despite her disgust and fear. She doesn't dare open her eyes as the wheelchair moves closer to the cot. For a moment, the room is silent besides her labored breathing, and the suspense seems to claw at her heart.
Harrison doesn't waste time when he gently pulls her out of the covers and, in response to her yelp, presses the softest kiss she's ever had onto her mouth. Caitlin's eyes are blown wide in terror, yet she can feel that attraction and warmth trickling down her spine as his lips brush feather light across her own.
"Caitlin, it's okay," he murmurs, and his hot breath once again stirs goosebumps across her skin. "I've told you that lingering on him does nothing for you." The reassurance is uttered deep and velvet, accompanied by a slight purr. Its execution is the epitome of control, confidence, seduction, and it draws her in invitingly.
So she tries to enjoy it and melts into the kiss, pressing very slightly against him and closing her eyes. It's actually quite comfortable; she can hear him sucking in a breath as he slips his tongue into her mouth to taste the crevices inside. She gasps embarrassingly loudly as Harrison abandons his careful approach, tangles a hand in her hair, and leans in so her half bare chest is flush against his. Caitlin quickly can taste sizzling desire and comfort and need and that want in the kiss, and she instinctively presses in. Soon, they've passed about ten more lines that shouldn't have been crossed, and she's keening against her will as they press into each other. It tastes to her like smoke and lava, like a summer storm, and neither party is backing down from the furious clashing of mouths and heat.
At least, not until Harrison's free hand trails dangerously hot down her naked, exposed stomach and towards-
A final and unspoken boundary snaps in her brain, and she instinctively shoves the man away from her, not caring about his wheelchair crashing into her makeshift bookcase. Her previously repressed rage and terror spills out of her lips in a torrent of screams and exhaustion and hurt.
What has she done?
"Dr. Wells," she manages to choke out as she covers her exposed body with a pillow, "I've done so much for you ever since I started working here. I've been the top bioengineer, and I've stuck by you even after the accident-"
"-That claimed your fiancé, yes," he quietly interrupts, slightly ashamed blue eyes watching her reddened face contort in conflict. "I apologize for my insensible actions, Dr. Snow." He's using that flat and professional tone again, and Caitlin realizes she may have gotten over the top, but all she feels is a mixture of terror and attraction clashing together in the pit of her stomach. It all hurts so much.
When she speaks again, her voice is hoarse. "Never come after me again, or the others know about it too," she hisses at his dumbfounded face. She hates how Harrison barely flinches at her words, but she wants so desperately to believe it's his fault.
So when she storms past his apologetic visage and out of the room with her clothes on, she pretends that he is simply the man who almost destroyed Central City.
XXXX
Caitlin can barely think anymore.
She saw him, albeit in a haze of smoke and fire and harsh words that spilled from his mouth, but she saw him alive.
Countless questions burn through her mind, but she can't muster the strength to talk or even think about what happened in the parking lot. It feels surreal, the sight of her fiance bursting into flames while she's at the local mall to buy a Christmas present for Team Flash. If her head isn't spinning right now, she'd laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Of course, her friends at STAR Labs eventually find out about the situation, how Ronnie is, as Cisco so eloquently dubs, "the burning man," and how he is determined to never speak again to his fiancee.
As they're discussing in the cortex, Caitlin often sees Dr. Wells observing them wordlessly, only speaking occasionally to provide insight about Ronnie's meta-abilities. And while the memories of his ghastly touch remain in the back of her mind, she is determined that the ideas will never resurface. And by the seemingly shameful looks on Harrison's face when the two converse, it's clear that he also would like to refrain from the topic.
She wants so badly to forgive him, even if his repeated actions seem inexcusable. They don't seem like him, the same man who gently mentored her, bolstered her, offered her a job after she rejected Tanhauser Industries. To her, it feels like she has unleashed a monster within him. It's irrational, yet the whispered conflict inside her threatens to tear her apart from the inside.
She's trying, really, but she is so tired to trying to remain strong, and she has no one else she can turn to for the type of comfort she needs.
Just two weeks after the second incident, Harrison Wells turns in his wheelchair to take a break from solving the speed equation, and he meets Caitlin Snow's broken eyes and exhausted psyche. Caitlin does nothing as he approaches her to grasp her chin and pulls her spinning head into another fiery yet calculated kiss. Instead of refusing it, she pulls him in harder and sucks messily at the flesh of his lips, tasting mint and cayenne, seeking to drown and forget the horror that probes at her chest.
As the situation devolves once again into a spectacle of both carnality and desperation, she feels his lips pull into a smile and helplessly realizes how he must be thinking that the third time's a charm.
XXXX
He's the Reverse Flash.
Duh.
Caitlin mentally kicks herself at this long awaited revelation. After Cisco mentioned his repeated dream about Dr. Wells standing up and driving a vibrating hand through his heart, after finding the body of the real Wells, she still refused to accept the truth, too scared of what would happen to her dubious source of comfort. Despite recent events, he was the one who stood by her and taught her for years and years and nurtured her scientific spirit.
But there should be no excuse. Ronnie's returned into her life, and Barry's deduced the warning signs; it's only her stupidity that's allowed her to be destroyed by him.
She's trembling despite the warm caress of the cotton sheets, and she remembers the heated conversation she had with Barry back in Starling City. She remembers her adamant defense of Harrison and her terrified breakdown; Barry's quiet reassurance and his sturdy words.
And she's so disappointed in herself, for believing her mentor's lies, for taking hedonism over the truth, for betraying her once-dead fiancé.
Caitlin knows it's completely stupid to loathe herself like this, but the strangled cry that leaps from her dry throat spills all the emotion that she's been trying to repress.
It hurts so damn much.
"Cait?"
She looks up from her pillow to see- speak of the devil- a concerned Ronnie standing in the doorway of her bedroom. Instead of smiling at the sight of him like she used to, she groans again and falls back to the bed, shaking incessantly.
Ronnie is by her side in a flash, and out of the corner of her vision, she can see his concern magnify several times. "Cait? Please talk to me," he whispers, tenderly tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.
She shudders at the thought of opening up. What is she supposed to say? Any explanation of what's happened seems completely, utterly ludicrous, so she just buries her head deeper into the pillow and sobs raw and hoarse. Ronnie's both dumbfounded and helpless as he slowly eases himself into the covers to wrap his arms around her.
Caitlin stiffens slightly as the move brings back more unwanted memories of Harrison mouthing over her, touching her, coercing her into one, two, ten kisses, violating every principle she's kept since childhood. But Ronnie's arms are soft, firm, and trustworthy, so she falls a little backwards into his body and snuggles close.
He nuzzles her cheek slightly and tenderly. "Cait, please," he whispers into her ear, "I promise that we'll catch him and end all this. And we'll get married afterwards, and everything will be okay."
He'd run if he knew what the real reason is, she thinks, and she remains silent.
Ronnie doesn't ask for a response, just presses a gentle, light kiss onto her forehead and runs his hand along her shoulder. His voice starts up again, and it's velvet and chiffon and utterly raw with emotion.
It's three simple words that both warm and shock her core to the root, that feel like summer lazily stretching on her skin.
"I love you."
And for the rest of the night, with her fiancé enveloping her softly, Caitlin Snow feels secure and safe. It may just be temporary, but in these moments, she has never felt so content and loved and warmed.
This isn't blind trust or conflicted emotion. This is Ronnie Raymond.
So her sleep that night is, at last, undisturbed.
XXXX
"Eobard Thawne?"
The man tilts his head ever so slightly and nods in agreement as he delicately walks to the front of the glass in his cell. When he speaks, his voice is husky and lilting. "Yes, Caitlin?"
Once again, it's the tone of voice which sends hot need and regret though her blood all at once. It's the tone of voice that would lead her to desperately kiss him in the cortex when everyone else has gone. But it feels different this time, and it's because she knows the truth about her friend Harrison Wells- or rather, Eobard Thawne.
"It's over," she whispers as her fists clench by her sides. "I trusted you through the explosion, through the metas, but we know who you are. You're going to hell, Thawne, for everything that you've done this past year."
He raises an eyebrow, and his mouth morphs into a self-satisfied smirk. "Even if you fell into my seduction," he responds, "so quickly after his first death?"
"Be quiet, Thawne." Caitlin's rage is spilling over again; she barely manages to keep her composure steady. A thought occurs to her suddenly, and her eyes begin to blaze in earnest. "Is that what the explosion was for?" she whispers, voice tasting of salt and blood. "So that you could take everything I had from me?"
Thawne laughs, the sound dry and humorless, and it's the most soulless thing she's ever heard. "Don't flatter yourself," he whispers, "because it's not something I chose to do when I came back here. But when opportunity arose after he supposedly died, I decided to take it." He pauses, then presses on with calculated conviction. "I'd kill him again in a heartbeat, just to control you. I own you, Caitlin Snow."
Her eyes are welling up with tears despite her resolve to stay strong, and she feels the last few bits of sanity in her break again. Just as she's thinking about breaking the glass on the cell, Barry flashes in with Cisco and notices her terrified expression.
"Hey Caitlin, we've got him and he won't hurt you, so please try to calm down," Barry whispers, his voice cracking slightly- Caitlin is once again reminded that he isn't a god despite his abilities, that he is just as affected by everything that's happened. When she turns to look at him, she sees his eyes puffy from tears, and she sees that Cisco's face isn't faring any better.
The three stare at Thawne for what seems like another lifetime. When his cold blue eyes meet hers, she sees them soften slightly, as if to apologize for his actions. As if he feels remorseful, somehow, for saying that he hates the team, for saying that he owns her
"No!" she snaps, breaking her barely stable composure as she lunges for the cell door. Barry and Cisco try to hold her back, but she rips free from their grasps and presses her flushed face up against the glass. "You do not get to apologize after what you did to us for months, constantly, unapologetically, you bastard!" The shriek is torn out of her stomach, built upon the remaining fight she has left in her, and she's so caught up in her fury that she doesn't hear footsteps echoing on the metal steps behind her.
"What did he do?" she hears, and she whips around to find Ronnie standing there, his eyes collected yet burning.
Instead of running up to him and sobbing her eyes out, she turns back to the impassive Thawne without breaking her gaze. As she takes a breath, he lets out another chuckle and mutters something under his breath. She remains still as she speaks.
She first lists off his rights under Central City and national law, citing his grievances against the group, especially against Barry and his family. The entire time, Thawne's eyes are Harrison's, and they are void of emotion and locked with hers. They are insistent, hard, goading, not letting her turn away, and they overpower her.
Go ahead, they crow, go ahead and let your anger out. I am the reason you are exhausted everyday, so I've deserved to die ever since the explosion, correct? But they'd also learn about what you did with me.
She's trembling from the deafening silence.
Let your anger out, and I win, because I. Own. You.
So she doesn't further elaborate on what he did to her.
Once she's done, tiredness pressing against her eyelids, she presses the lock against the cell and turns away. She can feel Thawne's eyes still piercing her body as the door closes, as she and her friends walk away from the man who destroyed them all.
Still, there's that tiny voice planted into her subconscious, and it festers like a rusty wound at the back of her head.
I own you, Caitlin Snow.
XXXX
From the cortex, she numbly watches Eddie shoot himself and collapse with Iris by his side.
Her mentor's blue eyes are still locked on her when his face changes and his body disappears into non existence.
She ignores them.
XXXX
But of course, it's not over because there's a singularity brewing over Central City and it's going to destroy everything under it.
"I know what I need to do," Barry suddenly shouts, and in a flash, he's streaking up towards the singularity and becoming a blur of yellow lightning.
Cisco sucks in a breath as he talks to Barry on the comms. "Keep doing what you're doing!" he encourages as debris flies up everywhere around him. Caitlin is clinging tightly to her husband and vice versa, and she can smell charred woodsmoke and vanilla on his impeccable suit jacket. Amid the chaos and horror, it smells so much like home.
The STAR Labs group anxiously watches the circle of yellow lightning pulse around the rim of the singularity. It's okay, she quietly thinks, because Barry's skills are beyond imagination and because she and her friends are there to support him, unlike what happened in her case.
To her horror, the color suddenly fades out and Barry is screaming into Cisco's comm and it's not enough to stop their impending doom.
After a few moments of terrified silence, Professor Stein yells and Caitlin can barely hear him, but it's something about Firestorm's fusion and separation in order to stabilize the two event horizons.
Caitlin's world goes blank.
No, she can't lose him again, she can't, she can't, and she grips onto Ronnie tighter. It's futile though, and she knows she's being selfish, but all she can think is nonopleasenotlikethis.
Ronnie cups her face in his hands and whispers that he loves her, but it's no use because the person who disappeared minutes ago should not still be taking the love out of her life like this. It shouldn't be possible, but it is.
The dead man who wore her mentor's face for fifteen years is still taking everything from her.
When Ronnie and Stein merge to fly up towards the singularity, she already knows that they're not both coming back alive. There's a slim chance, but she's too exhausted to feel hope.
After the professor falls to the ground unconscious with Barry in tow, she and Cisco doggedly take their time searching for Ronnie, but it's to no avail. She feels like she's cracking wide open, exposed, weak, unable to do anything to stop the torrent of horror and grief. Barry rushes up to her and whispers over and over, "It's okay, Cait," but all she feels is numbness.
What did she expect?
It's all because of the man who destroyed her life.
XXXX
The funeral is a quiet affair. It's just a small group of her friends and his family.
Caitlin sends an email to her mother a week prior, but she doesn't come.
Of course not.
She's alone.
XXXX
It's still surreal to see Harrison's blue eyes staring at her, albeit pre recorded and projected on a flat screen. Right now, his confession is paused in the middle as she watches Barry feverishly clip away at the video, his eyes lit up with relief.
"My dad's going to be free," he whispers as his fingers type nimbly over the desktop computer. Caitlin looks up at his eyes, and she smiles instinctively. His face looks completely radiant; she can see his eyes glowing with hope, something so different from the determined vengeance she's so accustomed to.
He's happy, and she's grateful for it.
But she still can't say the same.
Her Ronnie Raymond has died a second time. Her reputation is gone. Her friend Harrison Wells is a murderer.
She's only worked at Mercury for a little while, so the memories still burn sharp and painful in her mind. There are too many still at STAR Labs, of her friends fighting metahumans, of Ronnie, of bitter death.
It's been more than a year since the first tragedy, yet all she can feel is exhaustion eating away at her stomach. Caitlin's convinced that soon, it will dissolve her into nothingness. There is no denial to numb the pain this time, and it's infinitely worse as well.
After a few quiet moments, Barry turns to look at her with a concerned and puzzled look on his face. "Caitlin?" he asks as he gestures her to come over. She does and is alarmed by the sudden paleness in his cheeks. He says nothing, but his eyes are wary and cautious.
Her pulse drops to her stomach, and her head begins to swirl with apprehension. His posture is hard, suspicious, a contrast to the sunny personality she was witnessing moments ago.
What has he found?
"Caitlin?" he asks again, voice puzzled yet cold, and it's enough to send her body and mind tumbling to the cortex floor.
He's by her side in a flash, arm gently draped over her back and shoulders as she breathes unsteadily into her arms again. She can vaguely hear him whispering reassurances, telling her it's okay, and it's just like what Ronnie said before he died, and nopleasewhy fills her head with iron blows.
She's going to lose him to Harrison Wells as well.
"Caitlin, it's fine," he whispers, "I just found a video that looks like it's addressed to you." Her stomach drops a bit farther, but her composure straightens out enough to see Barry offering her another sleek flash drive. "Have you watched it yet?"
She shakes her head. "No," she answers, but her muscles seize at the implications. "Why? Did you?"
Barry blinks, and she feels the knot of apprehension in her stomach tighten tenfold. It's quickly resolved, however, when he says, "No. I was waiting to see if you'd want to watch it with me, just like you did for me. I promise you that I will be there for you too."
Her throat is dry yet grateful when she nods a tiny yes and flashes a small smile.
XXXX
His face is filling up the screen again, blue eyes neutral yet dark. Caitlin instinctively shrinks into Barry's draped arm when the video begins to play.
"Hello Caitlin," the voice says. "If you're watching this, that means that something has gone horribly wrong." The video starts the same as Barry's, and she shoots him a look of apprehension as the voice continues.
"I'm dead." His face is cold, analytical, but she knows the levels of emotion he can go to. "I'm assuming that there will be some collateral damage, nonetheless. By the way, I'm recording this video at midnight, about one week after the third casual encounter."
Barry pauses the video and turns to look at her quizzically. "Casual encounter," he murmurs, "does it mean what I think it means?"
Caitlin barely hears him as her eyes burn slightly. "Keep watching," she says, her voice surprisingly steady for the circumstances at hand.
The video unpauses. "And yes, Caitlin. My actions have been uncharacteristic of me- or rather what you all thought of me. I've done many regrettable things in this life. And yet…"
His eyes are intensely focused, dark, bottomless, and she shudders. This is not a man caught in the throes of passion or anger. This is someone who knows exactly how to bend, manipulate, and break everyone around them. Barry senses her uneasiness and responds by gripping her tighter.
"And yet, I found some solace when I began the encounters with you, Caitlin.
"You see, you might've thought that all I did was hurt you with every intimate moment. I understand how it's hard to grasp what I was trying to do." He sighs defeatedly, then continues. "Some people, like Barry, would see my actions as evil, and even I could partially agree, yet in a way, I was always by your side, Caitlin.
"And I will never really leave you."
Caitlin's eyes are squeezed shut in pain as the words seep into her brain. This is what she's been afraid of: his actions blamed on her grief and instability. When she looks at his projected blue eyes again, all she feels is agonizing pain.
Everything is my fault.
"No," she hears, and her brain takes a few moments to process it as Barry Allen's voice, uncharacteristically filled with defensiveness and anger. Before she processes anything else, something is hurled at the TV, and the glass shatters into thousands of sparkling, tear-like fragments.
She sees Barry's face contort and twist in pure rage, something that doesn't fit on his kind and gentle features. When he turns to look at her, she shrinks away slightly, but he merely directs a glare towards the shattered glass and speaks below a whisper.
"I never knew that he was capable of this…" His voice trails off and his face melts into compassion when he turns to face her again. She's still trembling, eyes welling with dry terror and tears and shock.
"It's been going on for so long." The words tumble out of her mouth like a flood, like water that's been crushed back by a dam, and they're finally out there in the open, spilling hatred and regret messily over both of them.
Barry's eyes widen in sympathy, then immediately meld back into defensiveness. "When you were in the coma, I thought Ronnie was dead, so he said he was by my side." She feels all of her weakness bare and exposed, naked to the fastest man alive- and also the kindest, most intelligent man she has ever met.
He'll understand, so she isn't afraid.
So she tells him everything.
Once she's done, his body is shaking slightly, and his entire being trembles with the compassion that's so characteristic of him. She tries to shake her head, tries to refuse his help because she doesn't need his sympathy or honey comfort.
But when Barry throws his arms around her, it feels like summer shining steadily on her clammy skin. She finds herself thawing slightly, and her heart feels just a little more whole with comfort.
"Thank you," she whispers, "for supporting me." Her arms curl reflexively around his back, fighting back the sensation of helplessness, and she soaks and breathes in the scent of his warmth.
He smiles a bit, and his eyes are filled with hopeful tears and no malice or falsification. "We're all here for you: me, Cisco, Iris. You're not alone, ever, and he can't ever hurt you again."
She doesn't quite believe those words because she knows how long it'd take to recover from Harrison's scalding touches and words. She knows how her repressed emotions can start up any minute during the long, coming recovery process. What's happened over the last year and a half is not something that can be solved with a soothing word and an empty promise, and in the future, what's happened can repeat itself easily.
It's okay, though, and she doesn't have to repress or break or struggle from the ache as they eject the two flash drives from the broken screen.
Because the rusty voice at the back of her head has disappeared, and her friends at STAR Labs are by her side.
So one month later, when she wakes up in her bed screaming for Ronnie to be there and for Harrison to stop, through the midst of the pain, she knows two clear truths, both light as day.
One: it isn't her fault.
Two: she won't be alone ever again because she's stronger than before.