Chapter Four

Barry didn't come after her.

Caitlin knew she had said she wanted to be alone – and she had at the time – but she wished that he would have followed her, would have made sure that she was alright. When she said she needed to be alone what she meant was she needed to be alone with him. What she had needed was to get away from the crowds, from Jitters, from Iris, from people who didn't know her.

She had lied to Barry when she said she was going home. She hadn't known where she was headed, but even when she said it she knew that she could not return to her apartment. It was too quiet there, and the mess would just serve to remind her of last night, and of the chaos of her own life.

As Caitlin drove up and down the streets of Central City, she started to consider where she should go. Most of her life was spent between her apartment, Jitters, and S.T.A.R Lab, but she couldn't go to any of those places. She had no errands to run, nor any work to do, not that she could have proceeded to accomplish something so mundane on that particular day. It was too soon for another coffee, and too early to start drinking. She considered stopping in to see Cisco's parents, but she was sure they wouldn't want to see her, and she didn't actually want to see them.

So Caitlin did the only thing that she could do: drive. For hours, Caitlin drove aimlessly through the city. She had no destination in mind, taking turns at intersections at random. She ended up in parts of the city she had never seen before, but she didn't care. The driving gave her something to do.

Sitting alone in her car, her thoughts bombarded her. She could think of nothing but Cisco and Wells. She replayed a thousand memories, trying to see if she could identify anything in their past that indicated that Wells could be capable of something like this. Was there anything in his behaviour that should have alerted her to the fact that he was a cold-blooded murderer? How could she not have known his true character? How could she have worked so closely with the man who had killed an innocent woman fifteen years ago, when his true objective had been to murder a young child? Worse, oh god how it made her stomach churn, how could she have admired such a man? It disgusted her to think how truly two-faced Wells was.

And as she started to reexamine every day, every hour, she had spent working with Wells, she couldn't escape the other memories that came rushing in. She remembered when Dr. Wells interviewed her for the lab position, how she felt when she had received the job. She thought about the day Ronnie had asked her to marry him, and how excitedly Wells and Cisco had congratulated her. She recalled in perfect detail the first time she met Cisco, the way he had his hair pulled back from his face, how he wore a graphic t-shirt under a blazer. Hartley had been his usual rude and arrogant self, and when she first saw Cisco, he had looked more like a kicked puppy than the enthusiastic mechanical engineer she came to know and love. She and Ronnie had introduced themselves, and she had given him some words of encouragement for his first day, and Ronnie had made some joke she couldn't remember now. Cisco had started to relax and he smiled – Cisco, Caitlin thought, had the most genuine smile in the entire world – and he had started talking. He hadn't shut up since.

Until now, she thought.

Then the tears came. The numbness she had been feeling all day broke down, the floodgates opened, and she bawled in the driver's seat of her car. She attempted to continue driving, but her vision was blurred, and she was forced to pull over on the side of the road. She rested her head against the steering wheel and allowed herself to cry, great sobs that shook her entire body. Her face and hands tingled, she couldn't catch her breath. She was too tired to keep crying, but she couldn't stop.

Caitlin feared that perhaps this was what the rest of her life would be like. Walking through each day like an automaton, until something broke through her surface, broke her. How much of her life would be spent oscillating between the numbness and rage, loneliness and despair? After everything she had gone through, how could she possibly be expected to start over, let alone keep going on?

She didn't think she could.

Caitlin turned the ignition, and pulled away from the curb. She forced herself to hold the tears in long enough to drive to the bridge at the edge of the city. She parked the car, got out, and walked onto the bridge, half-way across. Then she stopped. Putting her hands on the ledge, she leaned over the side and stared into the churning depths below. The water was so dark it looked almost black. She thought the wind-whipped waves were a pleasing sight. They would rock her into a dreamless, painless sleep, and the murky surface would close over her, and she could finally rest. When was the last time she had rested?

Caitlin, what are you doing?

The voice sounded as though it were right beside her – loud and clear. And worried. "Cisco?" she looked around frantically, then shook her head. "Of course it wasn't him. I'm hearing things." This final idea caused her no little distress, since Caitlin had built her life on empirical evidence and the capacity of her senses. Whatever it had been, it was enough to jolt Caitlin from her emotional state. "What am I doing?" She wasn't one to behave impulsively or to be driven by her passions, no matter how intense or despairing they might be. She took a deep breath and attempted to steady herself.

Caitlin couldn't give into this urge – not now. It wouldn't be fair to Cisco. He deserved justice, and she was determined to get it for him. Wells needed to pay for what he had done, and she knew that Barry wouldn't be able to stop him on his own. He would need Caitlin's help. That was what she needed to focus on – Wells. She would take it one day at a time, make this her sole mission; leave the rest of her life to worry about itself.

The question was: what should her next step be? Caitlin climbed back into her car. She needed to find Wells, but she couldn't do that until she figured out who the man was, and what he was doing. She knew where she needed to go.

TheFlash

Iris had wanted to stay with Barry, but he told her to go back to work. There wasn't anything she could do for him right then. He would be at the hospital visiting Joe, and she could reach him there if she needed to. She was reluctant to leave him, and protested, but he was firm in his decision. She should continue with her day.

Barry didn't feel like running, so he took a cab to the hospital. It was slow-going, but he enjoyed the time it gave him to think. Was it only yesterday he had kissed Iris? Barry took the elevator to the sixth floor, dodged the inquiring glances of the nurses, and entered Joe's room. He dropped into the chair he had occupied during the night, released a sigh, and laid his head back.

"Didn't think I would be seeing you this early," Joe commented. "I thought I told you to get out of here."

"I tried."

"What happened?" Barry explained how he and Caitlin had gone to the coffee-shop and run into Iris, how he had told Iris about Cisco's death, and the way in which Caitlin had abruptly left, how he felt like he didn't really want to be anywhere else. Then, as an afterthought, he told Joe about the cut on Caitlin's hand, and how she had sustained it. "Barry," Joe sighed. Sometimes his foster son could be dense. "Do you really think you should have let Caitlin go off on her own?"

"She said she wanted to be alone."

"But she clearly wasn't in a state to drive."

"I thought she would be okay."

"If you thought that then you wouldn't look as upset as you did when you came in that door. Listen, Barry, do you remember when your mom died?"

Barry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It seemed like a ridiculous question – how could he forget something like that? He didn't know where this was going, but he wasn't sure he would like it. "Yeah."

"You suddenly found yourself alone in the world. It was a confusing and desperate time, so I brought you home with me, and from that moment on you became a member of our family."

"I don't know what I would have done without you and Iris."

"I imagine Caitlin is feeling much the same way as you did then."

This didn't fully make sense to Barry. "But she's not a kid." And, he thought, she hadn't just lost a parent - though Barry of all people should have realized that family doesn't end with blood. Fifteen years ago, Barry had suddenly found himself near-orphaned, and completely dependent on the kindness of others for his well-being. He hadn't known who he could turn to for help. Caitlin was a grown woman, who could support herself, keep a roof over her own head. She had years of experience and connections to sustain her.

"That's not the point. You can feel that kind of isolation at any age. Ronnie's gone, Cisco's dead, and Wells has betrayed her. This is a heart-breaking and confusing time for her. She probably doesn't know who she can trust. You're the person she has closest to her." Barry considered this. He supposed there was validity in this statement. Caitlin probably didn't feel like she had anyone else to turn to. But he still didn't understand what had happened at Jitters. Joe watched Barry's face as the young man attempted to figure things out. "Did she say where she was going?"

"Home."

"Maybe you should check and make sure she actually went there." Barry hadn't considered that Caitlin would go anywhere other than where she said, but suddenly it occurred to him that she may have told him she was going home so as not to worry him. He remembered the look on her face when they had parted, and he raced from the room. He didn't feel sluggish anymore. Concern gave him the strength to run.

Barry flashed into her apartment. "Caitlin?" he called her name, and surveyed the mess. Wow, she really had destroyed the place. His brow wrinkled, and he flashed out again. Barry searched the entire city, but she was no where to be found. It was like she had disappeared. He didn't want to give up, but he didn't know what to do. He had tried calling her several times, but her phone went straight to voice-mail each time.

Barry was about to call her again, when his own cell-phone rang. "Did you find her?" Joe asked, as soon as Barry answered.

"Not yet. I've looked everywhere, Joe."

"I think I know where she is."

"Where?"

"Eddie just called to tell me, the police are responding to a B&E call. Someone tripped the alarm at Harrison Wells' house. You better get over there before they do." Barry hung up and ran faster than he had that day.

TheFlash

Caitlin was inside the house. It looked almost as bad as her apartment. In her mad pursuit for answers, she had overturned Wells' study, and was now making her way through the rest of the house. She was growing increasingly frustrated. She couldn't find a shred of evidence. He must keep everything at some separate location. What she did notice only further convinced her of things she already knew: the house, particularly bathroom and kitchen, were not designed to be paraplegic-accessible; and if the man was Harrison Wells, there was a strange lack of any kind of keepsakes. No photos of family members, no mementos of his dearly beloved late wife Tess. But there was nothing to suggest where Wells might have gone.

Caitlin was standing in the center of the living room, attempting to determine her next steps, when she suddenly became aware of distant sirens. Damn, she hadn't been careful, and had probably set off the alarm.

Suddenly, she was whisked from the room, and stood outside in a nest of trees, half a mile from the house, in under a second. "Caitlin, what are you doing?" Barry demanded. He was wearing civilian clothes, but his hair was a tangled mess, as though he had been doing a deal of running.

"You'll wear out those shoes if you continue to run in them." She didn't appreciate being moved without consent or warning.

"Caitlin," Barry's voice was stern, and further fuelled her frustration.

"What, Barry?"

"What were you doing breaking into Wells' house?"

"I was looking for answers."

"And you thought you would do that by breaking the law?"

"What else was I supposed to do, just sit around and wait – for what? The longer we wait, the further Wells gets away from us."

"You should have called me."

"So you could do what, talk me out of it?"

"No, to help you. There's a better way. We need to do this together, Caitlin."

"You mean the way you helped, Cisco? Or the way we worked together to protect him, huh?" Caitlin spat the words at him, but as soon as she said them, she didn't feel angry. She felt tired and sad. Her search had been fruitless, and she was starting to feel hopeless. She just wanted to go home and sleep. Barry saw the change, and he wrapped his arms around her.

"We're going to get him, Caitlin," he breathed into her hair. "I promise." Caitlin clutched at his shirt and buried her face in his shoulder.

"I know." She wanted to believe him.