Author's Note: While this one shot can be read on its own, I recommend that you read Salvation first, if you haven't already, because I make some references to that piece here. Remember, reviews are greatly appreciated and they motivate me to write more!
I must acknowledge "The Grinning Psychopath" for brainstorming with me, listening to all my warped ideas and giving me so much of in-depth analysis and ideas about Savitar and Killer Frost that you undeniably improved the contents of this story. So thank you for your inspiration!
. . .
REVELATION
SHE was dead still in his arms and he could not help the angry growl that escaped his throat because of it. If Savitar had not needed Cisco, then he would have chosen to do a lot more than swat Vibe away from Snow tonight.
He laid her down gently, not keen on releasing her from his protective hold, but needing to be free from his suit of armour so he could properly check her pulse. His tense muscles unwound themselves as he studied the gentle rise and fall of her enticingly full chest.
A ragged sigh left him and he bowed his dark head for a moment, his forehead touching her cold, immobile arm. The contact reassured him slightly. Sitting on his knees besides the small cot that held Killer Frost, Savitar tried to regain his control over his tumultuous emotions. He did his best to remind himself that a God was not concerned with petty human emotions but he could not stem the flow of wild memories pushing to the forefront of his mind.
. . .
"Go now." Her voice was determined but he could hear the strain colouring her words as she held off Cisco and Gypsy. He stopped abruptly next to her, from catching the meta-human power dampening bullets Joe and Harry were cleverly trying to fire at him, to glare at her angrily.
He should have left immediately but his bloody feet were stubbornly rooted to the ground, refusing to pick up speed again. He saw a bullet approaching her and out of pure instinct and a primal need to protect her, he rushed forward. Savitar grabbed onto her, arms wrapped tightly around her slim waist and sped off into the distance with her.
When he set her down safely she turned on him, out of breath and huffing, but gloriously enraged. "What the hell is wrong with you? You idiot." She made a swipe at him but he easily caught onto her wrist, growling down angrily at her.
"I will not tolerate this insolence. I damn well saved your life." He spat.
"At the cost of your own." She countered and he turned his back on her because she was right and he could not come up with a reply that would sound convincing in return. "Time is catching up to you." She continued over his silence, her voice calming as she caught her breath again. "That means that the timeline is stabilising and if Team Flash gets their hands on you, they will keep you contained until you are erased from existence. You will cease to exist. You'll die." She said rationally now, her unhappy voice riling him up further.
"I know." He hissed, turning around at her regretful tone, anger burning inside of him.
He grabbed a hold of her arms, shaking her slightly, but she did not shrink back from his callous touch. Her harsh blue eyes softened and he was not quite sure if this was the little of empathic Caitlin left inside of her, of if it was all Killer Frost, who cared enough for Savitar to sacrifice her life for him.
His thoughts were halted as he saw his hands start to fade away. He dropped them quickly but of course she noticed. He wished he could have told her that he did not care about the fact that he was about to be erased from existence, like some inconsequential bug splattered across a windshield, but he could not lie to her and that was something they both knew.
That was why she was telling him to leave, to save himself from a fate worse than death. He felt anger and hatred boil inside of him over being placed in this uncontrollable situation. First he had been shunned by everyone who had been supposed to love him unconditionally. Joe, Iris and even Cisco, who had harboured some not so subtle reservations towards him, had rejected him for being a time remnant and not the real Barry Allen they had made memories with. They had called him a cold replica, even after he had tried his damn-dest to be Barry Allen, The Flash, a hero. But apparently his merciless killing of threats separated him from everything that had made Barry their idol.
Only Caitlin had refused to lose him, finding him in the most hopeless of circumstances and trying to help him connect with his memories. She had been unsuccessful though, because instead of fixing him like she had planned on doing, he had broken her. Barry had broken her and created Killer Frost.
That had turned out to be the last and best thing he had ever done in his short and miserable life as Barry Allen. Liberating Killer Frost had in turn evolved him. She had brought him to his senses, made him see that it didn't matter what people wanted him to be. He no longer had to be a broken image of Barry Allen, a figment of everyone's imagination and a temporal duplicate created to die, because he was a God. A God of speed whose purpose was to be more than a body of useless emotions. So he had finally given in to his lust, removing the pain and suffering within him and filling himself with power and her. She had made him who he was today. A God.
Savitar.
They had made one hellava team, wreaking havoc across Central City when anyone dared to challenge them and the best part was that even Team Flash had been incapable of stopping them. Savitar and Killer Frost were ruling over mere mortals like Gods and he had felt more alive than he had ever felt since coming to this timeline. Only now he was dying and he did not want to.
"Selflessness isn't becoming of you." He mocked and she rolled those daring blue eyes at him.
"I was being selfish, Savitar. With you no longer needed, this timeline will cease to exist anyway. I will die either way." Her words made something repulsive claw at his chest and he swallowed it down. He told himself he was no longer susceptible to insignificant human emotions. "I need you to save me and the only way you can do that is by saving yourself. Make sure Savitar exists in every damn timeline and that he rescues me from Caitlin no matter what it takes."
"I'm not a hero, Snow." His lips curled up in distaste.
"No." She agreed huskily, stepping closer, placing her cold hands on his chest, exciting his rapid heart beat all the more. "You're a God. Offer me salvation, Savitar."
He lifted his hand, brushing his thumb across her full bottom lip one last time. At first he used to do it instinctively, every time she bit her lip, but then it had become a form of affection he showed her, the only moment he was gentle with her. This time she snaked out her tongue and flicked it across his thumb pad.
"Come with me." He momentarily allowed some of his irritation over their situation to prevail but she smiled wickedly up at him.
"We don't have enough time to create a frictionless suit for me. Besides, what will you do with the me of that time, kill her?" She taunted and he answered without hesitation.
"Yes." There was conviction in his voice but when the realisation of what he had just admitted to settled in, he knew it for what it was; a lie. And so did Snow. She always knew.
She laughed, the sound utterly wicked and he sneered down at her. "That pretty face doesn't fool me, Savitar. You've grown fond of me. So much so that you wouldn't kill me, even as Caitlin." His only response was to snort at her words making her sultry smile widen. "Run, Savitar. Run."
. . .
She stirred in the present, bringing him back from a time he should not be thinking of. He trailed his fingers down the side of her lovely face, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip in a rare moment of tenderness because no matter how cruel he was to her, she was the only woman who could bring him to his knees. Savitar stood slowly, giving her face one last lingering look before walking off.
. . .
He felt the temperature around him drop slightly and he knew she was approaching him.
"What are you doing?" Her voice had that honeyed lilt to it, the one she always used when they were alone together.
He gave her a cursory glance before turning his attention back to his suit, but he watched her from the corners of his eyes. He admired the way her hips swayed invitingly from years of expensive dance lessons that he knew Caitlin had been sent to when her mother had no idea what to do with her. It was strange, but Barry had always noticed Caitlin's absence in a room while he had always appreciated Snow's presence. Barry had always taken what he had had for granted, pining for the things he never could have instead. Like Iris West. The idiot.
"Eh, Flash damaged my suit in our fight." He told her distractedly. Only she was not aware that it wasn't his now repaired suit keeping his mind occupied.
He had been wondering when she would seek him out. Ever since her failure at the warehouse the other night, she had been determinedly avoiding him. He had allowed her the time to sulk in the shadows and lick her wounds in peace. He knew better than anyone that her disappointment over failing him was far greater than his own.
"Pretty bad ass." She assessed. "Very God like." She said seductively, running her fair fingers down the metal and he almost expected his suit to shudder in response to her teasing touch.
He let out a small chuckle in response. She always did know how to break the ice. "Well, dress for the job you want." He spread out his arms mockingly.
He could feel her eyes watching him as he bent down to the tail end of his suit. She was over thinking again and he inwardly sighed. He was not yet ready to answer any of her questions and he just knew she was full of them.
"We're a team, right? Barry and Caitlin at it again?" He looked up slowly, anger making his eyes flash and a slight frown marred his forehead.
"You're not Caitlin." He enunciated slowly. "And I'm not Barry." He said deliberately, unkindly and his lips curled in distaste as he mentioned the name. He tilted his head to the side, wondering what she was hoping to gain by that reference. Besides pissing him off, she herself hated being called Caitlin.
He saw something close to hurt flicker on her face, her heavy eyelids lowered, before she turned her back on him and sauntered a few steps away from him. He did not like the direction this conversation was going down and he tried to anticipate her next question.
"You're sure you're going to go through with this?" Her voice was louder than expected, almost as if she was unsure of him and was looking for reassurance. Then he remembered that they had not endured as much as he and his Snow had been through, of course she still had an underlying mistrust towards him.
"What?" He drew out the word, pretending he had not heard her from his crouching position, hoping to learn more of her thought process if she elaborated.
"Killing Iris." She spat and he hung his head at the futile question, because hadn't he already killed Iris and didn't she already know this. "You're going to take her to Infantino Street and ram a metal spear through her back?" She turned around to face him again, her eyes searching his face.
He lifted his dark head slowly. "Well, it's either her or me. If she doesn't die, then I'm never born." He told her honestly, because he had done it before and he would do it again. He felt nothing for Iris West.
There was hesitancy behind her smug smile and he could tell that she was not entirely convinced by his reply. "Right, but behind that pretty little face of yours, you still remember everything that Barry does." She continued and he closed his eyes in irritation. Had she not yet figured out that he was not Barry. Maybe her own inability to silence Caitlin was being projected onto him.
"So you remember growing up with Iris, falling in love with her, kissing her. You're sure you're ready to end her life?" When he noticed the frown on her porcelain skin and the worry etched in her glacial gaze, it became clear to him why she was suddenly questioning him.
He rubbed at his nose, standing up slowly so that he could form the right words in his head. He was close to her again, drawn to her by a force that rejoiced in their proximity. "What I remember is being created as a disposable life, something to be thrown away when Barry Allen was done with me. He didn't care about me. Why should I care about his love?" He watched her lower her eyelids and he could tell that the last part, his revelation, had pleased her greatly.
And it was the truth; Iris had never been Savitar's love. Maybe she could have been, if she had accepted him when he had tried to be Barry, but as always, Iris had expected him to conform to her wants, her desires, in her time. Barry might have accepted idealistic, fairytale notions because he was naïve and could never see further than his nose, but Savitar was not weak. Iris was the only dream from Barry's past that he still had the ability to make a reality.
Savitar looked over at Killer Frost, her face inches away from his. He tilted his head closer to her. Unlike Barry, Savitar was capable of seeing what was right in front of him. "You're not having second thoughts are you?" He pried, staring at her intently, knowing she had never been able to lie to him.
She shook her white head slowly and he nodded. "Good." He said sternly, watching her closely for the smallest sign of weakness. "Because you know what you need to do and when the time comes I expect you be ready." When she gave him another nod, his lips twisted sadistically, satisfied with her reassurance he decided it was time to cut straight through to the real issue at hand. "Unless, this isn't really about Iris, is it?"
He saw her frown. "I don't know what you mean." She shrugged slightly and his smirk grew.
"I think after the other night you're afraid that I might betray you, and that you would actually care." He mocked.
"I don't take random sex to heart." She said coldly.
"Because you don't have one?" He ridiculed and she glared at him. "Tell me, Snow." He tugged hard on one of her platinum locks before twisting it around his forefinger. He let the back of his hand brush against the bare skin of her chest and she lifted her head defiantly, not swatting his hand away. "What are you really questioning here, Snow, whether I'll go through with killing Iris for our plan or for your sake?"
He watched her arctic eyes narrow. "I'm merely ensuring you know where your loyalties lie."
"Oh, I know, Snow, I know." He smirked at her, pulling her face closer to his by tugging hard at the tendril of hair wrapped around his finger. "Do you?"
"With myself." She told him patronisingly and he released her tresses so that he could reach for her body with his inhuman speed. She gasped and he knew she would never get used to that sudden movement from him.
"And?" He asked softly, his voice threatening.
He knew how much she loved making him ask, he was well aware that she always tried to assert her dominance during their time alone so that she could feel in control. And because it was her, he allowed her that.
"And with you." She whispered, her words parting on a frosted breath and his smirk grew. He knew that breathy voice well.
"Good girl." He bent his head, touching her nose with his.
She rubbed her cold nose against his, her breath flirting with his skin, making his eyelids droop. "You're going to use her, aren't you? You need Caitlin." His hands stilled and he lifted his head, opening his hazy eyes to look down at her.
She was watching him with an intensity that unsettled him. The more time he spent with her, the more she became the Snow of his past. He let go of her before turning around. Of course she would figure it out.
"We're a team." He told her honestly, answering her question from before. "You have nothing to fear from me." That was the truth.
In the back of his mind, in the deepest corner of the place where his heart once resided, he knew that Caitlin would betray him. However, that was a chance he was willing to take because he needed Caitlin for his plan to succeed. Caitlin's loyalties had always belonged to Barry, but Killer Frost, she had always been his.
There was a version of her in the future, happy to be stuck in a cell, reminiscing over the time they had shared together, waiting for his return. And when he was done, that Killer Frost would have her Savitar back and he would fulfil his promise to the Snow of his past.
"I don't." He turned around to see her shrug and this time she was approaching him. "But of course I figured out that you didn't just save me because I was the best fuck you've ever had. That was why you pushed for Caitlin to emerge the other night, didn't you? It wasn't about me controlling her; it was about you ensuring she's still there. Why would you take that risk?"
Savitar sniffed. He wasn't bothered by her figuring out his motives, but he was completely averse to sharing them with her. He needed both Caitlin and Killer Frost right now. "Am I taking a risk, Snow? Have you yet to get rid of sweet, sensitive Caitlin?"
She glared at him. "Why do you call me that?"
He watched her answer his question with one of her own. These were the games they played, turning questions around on each other when they weren't capable of answering truthfully. The irony was though, that they both knew the answers to the questions they asked. They always had. It was not because they did not want to hurt each other that they kept secrets, but because they took perverse pleasure in tearing each other apart, just so that they could put themselves together again. They did this countless of times. They enjoyed the games they played together. It excited them.
She was close to him now and she had a hand on his chest, her nails digging down the front of his shirt. He looked down at the action, keeping his body as still as he could. He decided then that this time, an answer would shake her more than his evasion.
"It's in between Dr Caitlin Snow and Killer Frost." He spoke softly and her hands stilled, eyes meeting his.
He could see the confusion swirling in the depths of her eyes and he resisted the urge to say more. She would figure out in time that while she called herself Killer Frost, like her doppelganger on Earth two had, on this world, she was his creation.
She was Snow, pure, but deadly.
She was Killer Frost to the world and Caitlin to those who had known her before now, but to him, she was both of them. She possessed the best and worst qualities of both women that made her his parallel, his equal. The one being who understood who he was and embraced him, drove him, accepted him. Snow would kill for him and only him.
She twisted her fingers in the fronts of his jacket, pulling him towards her. Her head tilted to the side, lifting up and he looked down at her, a slight smirk on his face.
"Am I really what you want? Who you want?" She asked huskily and he did not answer her.
Instead he bent his head and kissed her. She groaned against his mouth, wrapping her hands around his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at his nape, and it sent a thrill straight through to his groin.
He grabbed at her bottom, squeezing her flesh, lifting her feet off the ground. He could hear the gasp of pleasure she gave before arching into him, exposing her delectable neck to him. She knew he would show her no mercy, biting at the expanse of enticing flesh there, running his tongue along her silky skin, making her rock against him, but she did it anyway because she needed him as much as he needed her.
He allowed her to steer him down as she straddled him. Their clothes disappeared in a flurry of heated caresses and desperate touches and he revelled in the feel of her slightly colder skin touching his. There was something utterly intoxicating about the way she felt against him. She shimmered in the dim lighting, a diamond he had polished, and he grabbed onto her waist, fingers digging into her flesh. Grease lines trailed pale skin and desperate to taste her, his head lifted so that hungry lips could catch onto a rosy nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh there. Her feline hiss only served to sound incredibly sexy and he felt himself harden painfully.
She ran her hands up his forearms, squeezing the cords of muscles there, her eyes meeting his and he allowed her to see the only shred of vulnerability he still owned.
She bit her lip, in that way that told him she was ready for him and he obliged with a rumble from his chest. Lifting her slightly he placed her over his shaft as he entered her with a sharp thrust that made her groan out loud, her back curving.
Her nails dug into his chest but he loved the way she always inflicted pain on him when they were fucking. It was as if she knew she was the only one who could get away with making him bleed. Like she understood that the combination of pain and pleasure sent him spiralling over the edge. She ground her hips against his and his response was to rock deeper into her.
She rode him like a surfer does the highest crest of a wave, with passionate intent, and he felt the tension build inside of him just as her muscles clenched around him, holding him to her so he was left with no other option but to give in to her.
He lifted his back off the ground, sitting with her. He latched onto her mouth with his, his arms curving over her back, fingers pressing into her shoulders as he pressed her so deeply into him that if he moved, he would phase right through her. In an insanely intense moment of blinding passion, he almost wanted to do just that. Savitar wanted her to be a part of him, for them to fuse together in a way that would never make her question his motives with her again.
Then the wicked woman bit his bottom lip hard, drawing blood from him as she climaxed all around him, shuddering in his arms so uncontrollably he almost suspected that it was her who was trying to gather up speed.
And when she collapsed on his chest, thoroughly spent, their breaths mingling, individually uneven but in sync together, he vibrated a touch to expel the cold mist that was surrounding them. She relaxed slowly in his arms, allowing her powers to calm down and he could hear the way her heart thundered in her chest, its sound echoed by his own.
So he intertwined his fingers through hers and she closed her eyes, focusing on her raging emotions. With deep breaths she finally exhaled, her abilities under control once more. She looked down at their interlocked fingers and he saw something undeniably raw and vulnerable flash through her eyes.
He would never tell her that he could never kill her. That yes; he still had the ability to feel like Barry did. Only his emotions did not originate from the same noble sentiments Barry shared. Savitar's feelings were twisted and emanated from a place of darkness and hunger for power. And it was because she would never ask him to say those words, that he allowed her to see that she was his and he was hers through his actions. As it had always been.
He released her hand when the sudden pulling pain in his head made him touch his temples in an attempt to soothe the ache there.
"Savitar?" He heard the worry in her voice and it dulled the throbbing sensation of new memories infiltrating his mind with piercing clarity. "What is it?"
He opened his eyes to see her hovering over him and he decided to reassure her. With an amused, dark chuckle he told her that Barry went back in time to get Snart's help with stealing the power source from Argus.
"Power source? For what?" She frowned and he could see the cogs in her brain churning. He would tell her about his plan, but now was not the time so he deflected.
He gave her a smug shrug. "It doesn't matter."
"Well, should I stop them?" She asked eagerly.
"No." He replied too quickly and picked up on his error when he noticed her frown deepen. He did not want her anywhere near the Flash while her emotions were this raw and exposed.
Barry would never harm Killer Frost because he still saw Caitlin in her, and it was the same reason Savitar could never bring himself to harm Caitlin, because the God of Speed would always see Killer Frost in her. However, Barry had a way of reaching Caitlin, that unbeknownst to the Flash, stemmed from a deeper connection that had always been there but had never been properly explored.
"No, let them take it." He told her more calmly. "No speed gun can stop a God." He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip, to release it from her teeth and he almost lost sense of time and reality when she flicked out her tongue and licked his thumb pad seductively.
Once again, he felt like the God he had always been meant to be.
