Caitlin is still sitting in the med-bay, staring blankly at the wall when Dr. Wells approaches her.
He has to say her name twice before her gaze finally snaps to him. He expects surprise, a hasty apology for not having noticed him. Instead, her face morphs into a thin, forced smile. "Yes?"
"I wanted to see if you were alright," Dr. Wells says gently.
She'd looked fine when they checked her - Captain Cold and Heatwave hadn't harmed her, but trauma usually ran far deeper than the surface.
"I'm fine."
"That's a lie," he says idly. "But I hope you understand how brave you were."
Caitlin shrugs aimlessly. "I couldn't let them kill Barry. Not over me."
"His life is no more important than yours."
He gets an odd look for that. "He's the Flash."
"And?"
Silence. But her cold mask breaks, just a little. He places his hand over hers, looking her in the eye. "I won't let him hurt you, I promise."
"They've already escaped."
"I know," he whispered. "We'll catch them again, and I'll make sure they're locked away for good. But I need you to focus on recovering."
Caitlin's head tilts sideways as she pauses. Her voice is flat and empty when she says, almost innocently: "He threatened to melt my skin off."
Thawne can't let go of the wave of fury that sweeps him then, but for Caitlin's sake, he keeps it contained. "And you still would have suffered that to save Barry."
She nods aimlessly, and that is enough.
. . .
That night Mick Rory's body is found in an alleyway, empty eyes staring blankly at the night sky, gaping face burnt and skin melted beyond recognition.
The only witness report details a streak of dark red lightning.