So I love writing tags to scenes from the show but usually by the time I post them, they happened ages ago, because my main one-shot series Oh How I Burn, is posted months after. I finally decided to just create separate place for all my quick episode tags and extended scenes.
This one was requested: Anonymous asked: Did you see today's 14 sec promo on the flash's twitter? "What are you doing here?" "I- I wanted to see you." "It's been a while." A FANFIC SHALL BE BORN AND YOU SHALL BE ITS MOTHER (please)
i set you apart
There's a long moment where he just watches her work—pressed white coat, neat black heals, bare legs with a hint of red skirting her knees, curls loose but still under the force of her concentration. His heart beats heavy in his chest and something rises in his lungs, thick and overwhelming at the familiar sight of her. Loss and grief—they're old companions now, not quite fair weather friends but he knows them well enough, except this time they're inspired by someone who has never been far away, even if the distances have lately felt unfathomable.
He's missed her, missed this, these quiet moments they once shared as easy as the scant breathing room they've always barely kept between them. He could drink her in for ages, let the warmth of her presence (even unawares as it is) balm the chafed edges of his weary soul but he knows it's not fair to linger, to take without giving and if he and Caitlin are anything, it's an even trade. So he settles his weight against the door frame and taps one quiet thumb against the metal, let's the hushed sound announce his presence and steals a few last selfish seconds of unregulated, uncomplicated comfort as she turns.
She's surprised, but in that quiet, unassuming way she has—questions without accusation and he could drown in the depths of his gratitude, because guilt dogs his every step, everywhere but with her. And it's because of that, all that, that he doesn't bother couching his words in anything but the honest truth: "Oh, I wanted to see you." Their eyes meet immediately and it's like the weeks have gone unmarked and un-passed: so much has changed but she's still the same Caitlin—soft brown eyes, gently creased brow, hushed words, painted lips and an expression that says she reads every line of his heart like it's a book kept open on her table.
And then she says what they've both been feeling, at every frayed edge of their souls: "It's been awhile." It's not the same words but it's the same sentiment, laid bare between them: she wanted to see him too. This aching, this emptiness, this tiny piece that no one else fills, it's a twin imprint on both their hearts, a mirrored hole left gaping by his self imposed reclusion; a matched set between them, regardless of what it means (friendship, kinship, a shared survivor sense or maybe something so much more).
"I know, I'm sorry," he tries to bridge the distance, leans into the room with a kind of hesitance he's not used to feeling here only to remain hovered at the edge of his exit strategy. "It's just been…" There aren't words, or there are, but they're too abundant or too hard or too heavy where they lodge between the folds of his intestines—he's not sure which it is but it hardly matters. Caitlin knows them, picks up all his pieces where he leaves them off.
"A lot, I know." And there's something that settles inside of him, falls back into place at the click of her heels across the lab floor before she bridges the distance and asks, with the slope of her eyes and the tiny bit of lip her teeth find, for the hug he's been burning to give her since he made up his mind to stop running away from the one person he knows will always give the forgiveness he doesn't feel he earns. He buries himself in the embrace, not sure who's holding who but warmed and settled by the familiar press of her skin and scent of her hair and the distant but constant beat of her heart. "You know you didn't have to deal with all this alone."
"I know. I didn't, I always knew you were here." (And she was, ready and waiting every day).
Listened to the Boyce Avenue cover to "The Scientist" while I wrote this. If you haven't heard it, you totally should.