When he eventually stumbled into STAR Labs, his body still aching from the fight that ended only seconds ago, the suit all but destroyed, he was welcomed to a sight he would cherish for the years to come. Because there was Caitlin, sitting at her desk, as though there was nothing wrong with the world, as though she hadn't been kidnapped but hours ago.

He stilled at the image, taking in all that he could, from the ponytail she had tied her locks in, to the bruise developing on her forehead.

He attempted to move forward, closer to her, wincing at the pain of his injuries which had not yet healed, his step rather heavy footed. The noise echoed in the quiet laboratory and he knew that his presence would no longer be unknown to the woman who had proved her strength tenfold that day.

She jumped, turning around to rebuke whoever would startle her in such a fashion when she saw him, and those words died on her tongue.

"Barry, my goodness, what happened?" He realised what he must look like to her, suit utterly ruined, the burns of both flame and frost doing damage to much more than the material, but to the man underneath as well.

"I needed to stop Snart Cait. And I did." He could tell how disturbed she was by the answer, but she didn't respond immediately as he could tell she wanted to, she merely fussed over him, pulling the ruined suit off his body and dragging him to the bed.

(He never told her that he had to catch them, that it was not motivated by a sense of justice, but by the overpowering need for revenge. Because they took her, they took Caitlin, and there was nothing in the world he had desired more than seeing them pay for their deeds.)

"You need to stop risking yourself like that Barry, you need to come back from these missions, you know." She took care of him, tending to his wounds, and he relaxed, his eyes falling shut as he relished in the warmth her hands emitted, warmth that proved she was alive, that she was okay.

"Caitlin," he called to her but she ignored him, instead continuing to attend to his wounds, her focus solely on helping him, healing him, being there for him. (And he hated that he could not confess to having done the same). "Caitlin." And this time she did stop, his hand holding her wrist steady against his chest, his eyes burning with such an intensity she felt as though she would not be able to move whether or not he held her in place, she could scarcely believe that the effect of him was not more pronounced.

"What is it Barry? Is something wrong?" And the concern in her voice, that she hadn't done enough, that she missed something, that she was hurting him, it was too much. She faced possibly the greatest criminals in the city, demanding that he protect his identity without a flicker of hesitation, and here she was worried about him.

"I'm so sorry Caitlin." Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, unsure of what had elicited this type of response from the man. "I'm sorry that you were put in danger because of me, I'm sorry that I wasn't there to help you, I'm sorry I put you in a position that you would die for me, to protect my identity." And it was him that broke eye contact, unable to keep looking into her compassionate eyes. "I'm sorry that you felt that would have been better for me to stay away than it would be for me to come for you."

"Oh Barry." And she was at a loss for words, seeing such a defeated look on his face, guilt etched so deeply, she didn't know what to say to make it all better, to see that smile she had grown so fond of. "The city needs you Barry, it needs you more than anybody needs me." And it was like a physical blow, hearing those words come out of her lips, knowing that she believed it. He sat up instantly, pulling her closer to him, as though their proximity would have any bearing on her understanding of his feelings, of just how much he had come to need her in the short time he had known her, of just how serious he truly was.

"I need you Caitlin, I probably wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you so please - " He paused in frustration, forcing him to ground out the rest of the sentence. "- Never say that again." He stretched, his body already healing most of his wounds, and he let go of her, preparing to leave, stopping only to say one more thing to his doctor. "Oh, and if you need me, for anything Caitlin, I will be there." She nodded silently, her mind already drifting off back to her research, but in an instant he was in front of her, pulling her back to him, refusing to let her forget, refusing to fail her again. "I'm serious Caitlin, promise me you'll call if something happens."

"I promise Barry."

And she did.

That night.

Pain. All she could feel was pain. The rope was digging into her skin, the hot atmosphere doing nothing to remove the deep chill that had settled upon her. She was kidnapped, of that she was certain, but the people were no where to be seen. She couldn't remember who, or why - all she knew was that they were after Barry and he needed to be protected at all costs. He couldn't come, not for her, not since the area was rigged with explosives.

She had to escape. She was suffocating, the humidity and lack of oxygen in the room was making her feel nauseous. She struggled against the ropes, the burn of the friction doing nothing to discourage her attempts to set herself free.

But then the Flash was in front of her, a stupid grin on his face, unaware that he had triggered the alarm. She tried screaming at him, telling him it was a trap, that he had to run or he would die.

But there was silence; she couldn't speak, couldn't scream. Her mind was pleading for any form of noise to escape her, praying for any warning that would tell him to stay away. But nothing did.

However, there was also no explosion.

He was kneeling beside her, his fingers quickly working the knots tying her in place while he looked up at her, that ever present cheesy smile lighting up her heart as she felt that maybe, just maybe, they would both be safe. She reciprocated with a hesitant one of her own, hope filling her as she was finally being freed. But they were both so distracted by the other that they never heard another person come from behind, they never saw them lift up the gun and they never knew the shot had been made until it was too late. She saw the life slowly drain from him, the light in his eyes dimmed as he took his final breath. She thrashed about, needing to save him from the cold effects of the gun, but she couldn't, she could only watch in horror as he died, the cold stripping the life from the hero, her panicked face the last thing he saw before succumbing to the oblivion calling his name.

And yet again another person she cared about was in danger because of her. Barry, Ronnie, both weren't supposed to be there, dying, but they were and it was all because of her.

She heard the crunch of the footsteps, the murderer still present. And she turned, looking the killer dead in the eye, hatred overtaking all else in her soul, pure, unadulterated fury towards whoever would kill Barry. But she caught a glimpse of the killer's face and a numbness just spread through her, unable to move, to turn away from what she had just seen.

It was her. She was holding the cold gun built by Cisco - she had this demented smile on her face, joy at his death undeniable to even herself.

It was her fault.

Caitlin Snow killed the Flash.

She awoke with a jerk, her body drenched in sweat, her heart racing faster than it ever had before, unaware of the tears rolling down her face. Images were flashing in her mind, the nightmare and reality merging together in that horrid moment.

Her hands trembled as she reached for her mobile, desperate to hear his voice in her ear, to soothe the feelings that were haunting her.

But it continued to ring.

With every passing second the fear grew, the thought that maybe it wasn't just a dream, but a repressed memory expressing itself becoming more firm in her mind and she couldn't help the tears that were welling up once more.

But then he was there, his anxious gaze all she could see, the panic he felt on full display. The ringing in her ears lessened as she took in the sight she was gifted, Barry Allen safe and sound and alive, his hands resting on her shoulders, pulling her against his own chest, the steady beat of his heart calming her down, lulling her to sleep. Because she was safe now, he was safe now, and that was all she needed.

She could feel the vibrations as she leant on his chest, curled in his lap, comforted by his embrace. She pulled away slowly, her eyes solely focussed on him, making sure that this was not a dream, but reality. She watched his long fingers rise, wiping away the remnants of tears that had been streaming down her face, and she saw his pain as earnestly as she felt her own.

"What was it Caitlin? What was wrong?"

"It's stupid really." And he could see her walls rising, the emotions drifting away, leaving a guarded heart behind.

"Cait, please." They both heard his voice crack, desperation seeping into his tone and she couldn't say no, not to him. She nodded her head slowly, missing the warmth of his fingers against her skin as he pulled his away from her.

"I was kidnapped again, and you came to save me... you came and- and you got killed. By me. But it wasn't me because I was tied up and you were releasing me, but when I saw who shot you I saw my face and -" She broke off hyperventilating, the emotions still so raw, the recollection of the dream painful, tears falling yet again as her mind continued to torture her when the others could not.

"Oh Caitlin," and he pulled her against him once more, his shirt soaking up her tears, his hands rubbing her arms, willing her shaking to stop. He hated those men for doing this to Caitlin, for trying to break an already damaged girl and he despised himself for being responsible.

"You don't get it Barry, I killed you, I - I killed you." He could feel his heart break as she screamed those words against him, the scars left by those kidnappers more than the bumps and bruises he could physically see. "I don't think I could survive losing another person I care about and knowing I could have done something to stop it."

"You won't lose me Caitlin, not if I have anything to say about it." He pressed a kiss against her forehead as he felt her relax in his arms and reluctantly, he decided to put her back in her bed before leaving. His arms felt empty, his chest almost hollow as she was no longer cocooned in his arms. He had lingered by her doorway, watching the woman as she rested peacefully and he felt a stirring in his heart, of something he couldn't quite explain. He turned to leave when her voice echoed in the room.

"Wait Barry, please don't leave." Her voice was hoarse, the toll of the day finally catching up with the woman, and he couldn't. He couldn't resist her request, he couldn't leave her, not now, not after it all. And so he returned to her side, sliding himself in the bed, relaxing himself against the headboard, running his fingers down her arm, attempting to comfort her in any way he could.

"I'm so sorry Caitlin, I'm sorry that I did this to you."

"You're sorry you saved me?"

"No! But I -"

"But that's exactly what you did Barry Allen, that's what you've been doing every day since you've awoken from your coma, you're saving me now." She snuggled closer to his warm body, her voice filled with fatigue as she struggled to finish what she wanted to say. "The Flash may be the saviour of the city, but I've got a personal hero in you Barry." And she fell asleep. She would never know how his breath caught at her words, how he looked down at her, awe written across his face as the words resounded in his soul.

(And in a few years, when she walked down that aisle in a white dress, as the exchanged vows and I do's, she reminded him yet again of her words that fateful night.

Because the city would may have the Flash, but she had all of him, and that is all she desired.)