A/N: And so the six week wait for the next episode begins! I figured I could fill the time with a bunch of short, choppy one-shots, right? And so here we are.
summary; it was the faintest memory, but it stood out the most. "That door...you never locked it." (Caitlin/Ronnie)
- fire and ice were never meant to coexist
but sometimes it is the glittery cold that can sustain the brightest and most untamed flame -
She truly didn't understand how she was supposed to take in Ronnie's new...personality. Existence, if you will. For over a year, she had thought her beloved to be dead, burned into nothingness deep within the mechanical heart of the accelerator. But no, he was back, but he wasn't the same. He wasn't her Ronnie.
She let out a soft sigh, rolling around in her bed-sheets to get comfortable. His clothes that she wore to bed were slowly losing his scent, no longer a physical reminder of his touch. And yet she still wore one of his shirts to bed, snuggling into the soft material as her thoughts raced along.
He claimed he wasn't Ronnie. He claimed that he wasn't the same person she fell in love with, the same person who put the ring on her finger. And yet? He managed to somehow find her on his own free will, in that parking lot only a few days ago. He had appeared out of nowhere when she and Cisco and Barry needed him the most, inadvertently saving her life. Or was that his reason for the appearance? The wishful part of her brain seemed to want to think so.
'Don't try and find me again' he had said, more or less. He didn't want to see her again. Unbeknownst to her, the tears were already cascading down her cheeks, a telltale reminder that she was not the 'Ice Queen'. That she still had feelings, a beating heart, deep under the icy ridges of her exterior. She could feel, and all she was feeling was pain. And loneliness.
A dull thud interrupted her thoughts, drawing a gasp of surprise from her lips. Quickly, she sat up, gripping the sheets and whipping her head back and forth. The thud had soundly eerily close to that of someone, something, hitting the floor, albeit muffled, as if it were...outside?
Her head snapped towards the balcony, where the curtains were drawn shut. Goddamn it, she was so stupid, she never, ever locked that door! Why would she? It was on the second floor, and she had nothing of value to lose! Yet now she was regretting it, berating herself for her stupid naivety. It was going to get her killed, or maybe even worse. Her breath picked up. Oh god.
She tried to remind herself that she was strong. She could get herself out of this, she just...she needed a plan. Her eyes scanned the room, and she resisted the urge to cry out in frustration at the lack of items she could potentially use as a weapon.
The door was being pulled open, quietly. Could she text Barry? Would he get there in time? The snarky part of her brain reminded her that her friend was the freakin' Flash, of course he'd get there in time! But where the hell was her phone-
The curtains were pushed to the side. And in walked whoever was out on the balcony.
Caitlin couldn't stop her jaw from dropping at the sight of Ronnie, looking tired and haggard and all kinds of nervous.
"R-Ronnie?" She voiced her confusion as she stumbled out of the bed, yanking down the, his, shirt as far as it would go. It reached her thighs, baggy and hiding her intimate parts from sight.
He didn't know why he was here, in her house. It was a stupid, rash idea; he had remembered her house as their's, remembered the balcony door was never locked. He was agitated, unable to sleep, and confused by the dark-haired beauty that had come looking for him. Calling him 'Ronnie'. He figured coming and looking around would help him distinguish her motives, but...he hadn't exactly anticipated her being awake. It was late.
He took a good look at her, frowning at the tear-stains on her cheeks and the fact that she was obviously in a man's shirt. He had been her 'Ronnie', that much was clear from what had transpired between them and the garbled mess of memory figments in his mind. But...it had been a year, if his time was correct. A year was more than enough time for someone like her to move on from him, especially if she thought he was dead.
"Why'd you come looking for me?" He suddenly demanded, his voice gruff. He fought to keep his anger-disappointment?-in check, in fear of igniting and hurting her."Why come looking for Ronnie when you moved on?"
She was even more confused, even a bit offended. What made him think that? More importantly, did he think she could just...move on from the trauma his supposed death had caused? And then she remembered. The shirt.
Hesitantly, she moved towards him, gaining confidence with every step when he didn't move away. Soon, she stood directly in front of him, tilting her head up to look him in the eye. "It's...the shirt is your's," she explained, her voice quiet, quivering with all her suppressed emotions. "I wear it to help me...help me re-remember what you smelled like."
He hadn't been expecting that. A flicker of something shot through him, an emotion he could identify as guilt. He suddenly felt the need to explain himself, too. "I remembered this house, and remembered...you never lock the balcony door."
He paused, resisting the urge to reach out and hug her. Damn it, why was it all he wanted was to hold her close and never let go? He wasn't Ronnie, he wasn't her's, he wasn't her lover. He wasn't, he wasn't he wa-he shook his head lightly, trying to force the conflicting thought out of his head. In the silvered moonlight, he could see more clearly the tear streaks on her cheeks. Upon what he thought was instinct, he reached up and ran a thumb over them, flinching at the stark contrast between his charred hands and her creamy skin.
She could see the warring emotions flicker across his face. He was disgusted with himself, she realized, and her heart hurt at the idea. She reached up and placed a hand over the one wiping away her tears, noticing how warm they were. So warm, so loving, and he didn't even know it.
"This house is our home," she murmured quietly, eyes flickering from his lips to his eyes. "We were going to start our lives here, once we were finally married."
"...I don't have a home," he replied quietly, wanting to rip himself away from this woman and her loving eyes, wanting to run back into the darkness of the night.
"This will always be your home," she told her firmly, eyes glittering in determination. He was captivated, trapped, and found himself drawing closer. She continued. "I will always be your home, will always be here for you."
And he found a part of him relenting, his brain aching as it attempted to string together his broken memories. He realized he wanted to remember her, he wanted to remember the love he had for the incredible woman standing before him. And he was surprised to find he was beginning to, albeit slowly. Her soft words, her promises, they were awakening dormant thoughts and dreams, holding him close. Keeping him in her orbit.
And suddenly, he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back.
Caitlin was surprised once he pressed his chapped lips against her's, but did nothing to stop him. Screwing her eyes shut, she responded, all their forgotten emotions sparkling to life in wake of their inevitable reunion.
Nothing about the kiss was tender. It was brutal, relentless, and full of desperation. It was the culmination of their sleepless nights, their pain and suffering, their loneliness. And Caitlin was crying again, but she wasn't alone, because Ronnie was there. He was there and he was silently wiping away her tears as they fell down her face, backing her up into the bed and laying their entwined bodies down.
They laid on the bed, under the thin sheets of cotton, simply holding each other and enjoy each other's presence. Caitlin found herself slowly falling asleep, wrapped up in the arms of the only man she would ever love.
And come morning light, he was still there. Because this was their home, and he was her Ronnie. He may not remember all of it yet, but he could remember that he loved her.
And she loved him back.
A/N: Well, there you have it! I hope they didn't seem too OOC; I've been thinking that when Ronnie finally accepts Caitlin, there would be just as much of desperation/longing than there would be love and tenderness. Thoughts/Reviews? I'd also take requests (but keep in mind I have the right to skip over any I don't feel like doing)!
Please note that these vignettes won't be explicitly connected, albeit are all somewhat related/won't contradict each other; HOWEVER, they will not be going in order. (As in what happens next chapter could have possibly happened before this chapter).