A/N: Thanks to Ballycastle_Bat for encouragement with this chapter, as well as to sweeter_than over on Flarrowverse Shipyard Discord server for help with one of the Cisco-isms in this.

No Quick Fix

Barry never has taken Caitlin being kidnapped well – it happens way too much for anyone's liking. Any time his friends or family is endangered it feels like his fault somehow, something that needs fixing fast. This is why he can, mostly, understand how Savitar must be feeling too. For all their differences, they both remember the other times Caitlin disappeared.

Even so, Savitar's pacing and fidgeting as they go over the few details they have is bordering on irritating. And after every idea the team throws out there, he has a snappy reply for it, but there's none of the usual sly amusement to what he says – just blunt criticism, poking holes in their strategies. He's otherwise quiet, focused, brimming with barely contained anger and it sends a chill down Barry's spine. Because the last time he saw Savitar looking like this, he was hell-bent on ruining his life. None of the plans meet Savitar's approval and Barry is scared what exactly would, what Savitar intends to do if they can't find a reasonable solution.

There's a nagging thought at the back of his mind he can't shift, that this is over-the-top despite how much they all care about Caitlin. Maybe it has something to do with how Savitar has only just won them over, protective of the few people he has in his life. Maybe.

They're all worried, but Savitar's reaction seems that much stronger. Like it's a step further along a path Barry can't bring himself to name. There's no doubt Savitar is attached to Caitlin in a different way than he, given the strange history Savitar and Frost had, but exactly how isn't clear. Savitar's behavior now brings up the question of whether that attachment is of a type Barry has never been privy to.

Funny too how he's gotten used to a softer version of the man who once hated him. Savitar's come so far in his time with them and suddenly he's plunged back to how he used to be, except with a side of the frantic. If Frost could manage to get in control, Caitlin would be back by now, meaning she's alone. There's no certainty today, no future knowledge to fall back on. Barry realizes suddenly that it's not as simple as anger with Savitar. No different than the last time he saw this strain on his remnants face, what he's seeing is the mask of a concealed pain. Barry's willing to bet it's worse than what he feels right now even if he can't pinpoint why. For whatever reason, Savitar can't bear the thought of losing her, even more so than Barry.

Of course she got kidnapped when it was her day.

Of course she couldn't get the power dampening necklace off in time.

She'd only had it on for privacy, since her and Frost were still working out the kinks in their shared life deal, and she'd wanted a day in the lab to herself without any of her snarky commentary. Especially in case Savitar ended up helping her with her research because Frost always had choice comments on them working together and Caitlin could do without the added distraction. Now she regrets a little her not trusting Frost more. She also wonders if Cisco's crackpot sounding idea to implant GPS trackers in them all was really such an awful notion as she'd initially judged it.

It's the fifth time she's been kidnapped and no matter how hopeless things look without access to her powers she'd remained calm and made do with what she had to work with, rubbing away at her bonds on the rough metal screw at the back of the chair. She'd been okay with the possibility it was going to take her quite a while to get free but the sudden static in the air around her brings a sense of relief. Though she's not free just yet, the familiar light traces of not one but two speedsters joining her makes her smile.

Barry touches her on the shoulder, briefly pausing to ask if she's okay. A quick nod and she already feels the pressure of the ties relieved as he cuts through them with his powers and helps her up out of the chair, her legs weak at first. Stretching her arms finally she goes to take a deep breath and feels it catch in her throat as she glances over to where Savitar is.

He has the already plenty bruised meta held by the throat against the wall. She can't hear precisely what he's saying but the words are said as harshly as his hold, choking the meta. The scene makes her flashback uncomfortably to the memory of Zoom doing the very same to Barry – Savitar knows exactly how that feels.

Barry rushes forward to intervene, "Hey, that's enough."

But Savitar drives him back with a lightning strike that barely misses Barry, stumbling out of Savitar's range hastily. She wants to believe he meant to miss, rather than it be casually thrown with little regard for the outcome.

Barry gets up again, warier, hands held up as he approaches. Ironically enough for a speedster, he's clearly trying not to make any sudden movements because he isn't sure Savitar wouldn't hurt him to get what he wants. Not when he's like this, his anger spiraling out of control. This is what they've been afraid of ever since he joined the team.

Savitar scowls at him and hisses at Barry loud enough for her to hear it, "He's mine!"

Two words and she understands then what is happening. Two words full of desperation as much as anger. It's not vindictive pleasure. It's not as simple as he's out of control. It's him wanting to take back control of a situation that has been out of theirs.

But what's happening can't happen. She can't let it. This isn't what they do.

She takes off her necklace and begs Frost to cooperate with her even though she knows Frost would happily take her vengeance and Savitar's side. It's important, she says. He'll regret it. Maybe not today but one day.

Stalking up to where the two men are in their standoff, Barry looks quizzically at her, his expression seems to say 'Cait, what are you doing?' But he trusts her, says nothing about her approach. Savitar doesn't expect what comes next.

She doesn't reply to Barry's unspoken question, and she doesn't hesitate. Savitar's attention isn't on her, assuming her no threat. The blast freezes him from the back, nicely leaving the meta free as the shock to his muscles causes Savitar to drop him. Barry takes the opportunity to speed the meta away to Iron Heights.

Cait wants to reassure herself he's fine, that they haven't hurt him with the ice blast, but there's something more important that she can't ignore and needs to be done first, lest it be forgotten in her eagerness to check on him. Frost drops back mentally again, leaving her to do what she must.

He doesn't say anything, the silence all hers to fill. She intends to keep her words quick and to the point. There can't be any misunderstanding about this, she has to make it clear he was in the wrong without making it about her disappointment. Shame isn't what he needs, even if he'd naturally pile it on himself unhelpfully. What's necessary is imbuing him with the certainty she won't accept it, that no matter how she feels about his potential to be a better man she won't make excuses, or let him make excuses, for his unacceptable behavior.

"Never do that again. You don't get to hurt people in my name."

Savitar stands there panting out cold puffs for a second before he gets to vibrating the ice off. Once he does, he's by her side in an instant, except he holds himself at a distance still, that one step away from her. He doesn't say a word but, as she's gotten used to, so much with him is communicated through his eyes and in other small ways, like where he holds his tenseness. The microexpressions on his face flit between hints of anguish and possibly contrite but he's there with her, really present, rather than consumed by his worst emotions as he had been not so long ago. Only it's like he won't allow himself to comfort her. The major downside to that is she doesn't get any comfort either, so she takes the initiative and hugs him.

He sinks into her embrace, arms snaking around her back to hold her close and it feels like he's coming back to her. He clings to her and she rubs his back, wondering how it is he's taking this harder than the person who was kidnapped. Her stomach flips at the sensation of tears against her neck. She simply hugs tighter giving him the moment without comment. For all his history, the tragedy inherent in his creation, she's never seen him cry like she has Barry.

Turns out she still won't see that. Barry blips back in, breaking the moment and Savitar extracts himself, turned away, not letting anyone see proof of his vulnerability. He doesn't say anything before he whooshes away and she is left to wonder the tangle of emotions that today's unexpected events have cast light upon. Her heart aches knowing he's out there alone when he shouldn't be. Barry takes her back to S.T.A.R. Labs to get checked over before he takes her home. While there, she smiles, says all the right things, but she wishes everything had ended differently. Her heart aches doubly for the fact she doesn't want to be alone either.

Avoiding Caitlin probably doesn't make any sense to anyone else, not after he got so worked up at the possibility of losing her.

He's been skipping out on group missions for the last three days, though he isn't shirking the duties he's gotten used to again. Savitar is just doing stuff alone; he works better that way anyhow. No discussion, no second-guessing what to do. Catch the bad guy... not quite by whatever means possible it turns out. Caitlin had made his failing clear there. Even avoiding her as he is, he knows better than to go against that rule. Mind you, he can still bend it here and there. A little roughing them up is passable as a reminder of who they're dealing with, incentive to avoid him in future.

Avoiding group missions he can get away with it appears. Surprisingly nobody has bothered him since he skulked away from the rescue mission. But if the familiar, rapid clack of heels down the hallway means what he thinks it does then it appears his avoiding the medical checks post-mission is where a certain someone puts her foot down. He almost grins at the implication she cares about his frankly minor injuries.

"Post-mission debriefing isn't optional, Savitar."

She's still barrelling towards him as she tells him off. That doesn't last long, she comes to an abrupt stop about a meter away. Crossing her arms and uncrossing them awkwardly right after. Despite her imperious tone, her body language belies nervousness. Coupled with the distance she's holding from him, he comes to an unpleasant conclusion: she's finally afraid of him.

He scowls at her before turning away, trying to ignore both her and the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"You need to take your safety seriously. What if there's something wrong you didn't notice? I know you have basic first aid training, I gave you it," she points out, rankled, "But that's for emergencies; it's not a substitute. You're not a medical professional. And what if a meta whammied you again?"

Caitlin doesn't hesitate at that slip, of comparing him to the Barry he shares so much history with. He tries not to flinch at the reminder of the rage Bivolo unleashed, a rage once foreign to who he was. These days he's intimately familiar with it, though in truth it's no less disturbing to him when he can't channel it into a righteous purpose anymore.

"This is why we have these checks," she finishes, adding a small huff he might've considered a cute side-effect of her getting worked up, if he weren't so frustrated at her inability to leave him be.

Evidently, he's going to have to dial it up a notch to get her to give up. Either he has to storm off, which most likely would just postpone this argument, or he has to induce her to.

"I'm fine. And I know how to use all the toys you have. They're actually pretty primitive compared to what I was used to."

He chances a glance back over his shoulder, trying to gauge her reaction to his haughty reply about the superior medical equipment she has to wait years to experience for herself. It doesn't work. She's closing on him. He should have gone for something more personal, cutting, but it's hard to find the heart – or rather, the lack of it – he'd need to push her away efficiently and effectively.

"Why can't you accept that we care about you?" Her voice is initially so soft and full of confusion as she asks, but after he elects not to respond to that, it quickly clouds with irritation as she continues on, "Why do you have to be so...so..."

As always, he's acutely aware of any motion behind him, set on edge by it and his senses only semi-reassured by the knowledge it's Cait. And then there's an almost comical hrmphf sound. He turns around properly to see Caitlin throw her arms up in frustration, having also stepped significantly closer to him in the meantime. The look she's giving him is unadulterated exasperation. So much like one she once leveled at him in the Cortex what was many years ago for him in his memories of Barry's life. Maybe she's not so far away from giving up on him like he's intending, just another push...

"You all knew what you were getting into when you took me on."

He glances away as he speaks. What he's saying isn't a lie, yet it doesn't sit right to bring it up when it isn't all there is to him, to their situation, anymore. He knows, despite his fears, he isn't a charity case. Caitlin has proven again and again she doesn't see helping him as a duty, not for her friend, even if that regard she holds him in doesn't seem befitting to who he had been to any of them with the actions of his past he'll never erase. Them helping him, it's 'the right thing to do' – predictable for Team Flash - but that isn't why she chooses to do it.

The choice matters. And yet here he is ready to imply she should expect to be scared of him. The only way he can rationalize it is that he is dangerous and perhaps she shouldn't forget that.

Caitlin closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in. On the count of ten she opens her eyes again, still visibly angry, her face flushed, but not succumbing to the anger he expected would overflow by now with his attempting to push her buttons. He must be losing his touch. Somehow he can't entirely regret that because a large part of him doesn't want to watch her walk away like he'd theoretically been aiming for. Several days solitude is catching up with him and he's not inured to it like he used to be.

She very obviously changes tack then, tensing up in a manner that indicates steeling herself for whatever she thinks he's going to lash out with. Worryingly, that probably means nothing short of the extreme can succeed in getting her to go away. He doesn't want to do that but he's at a loss for what he can do to escape where this conversation risks going. As it is, she's eliminating what little distance had remained between them and it's only a matter of time before she physically reaches out and he won't be able to bring himself to refuse her touch. When she speaks again, it's more on the side of neutral, though she can't stop some gentler annoyance creeping into it.

"Do you think you can't get hurt? Do I have to remind you we stopped you from being wiped out of existence? You're not a god, you can't just do what you like!"

Her irritation is building back up with every word. Seems she can't stick to unpassionate about this topic. He has to resist smirking at the implication, in case that would infuriate her further. There's a strange comfort to seeing her this angry over his welfare, to know without a doubt how much she cares, the effect he can have on her.

"I know," is all he feels able to reply with, the concise agreement said gruffly and avoiding meeting those wide eyes of hers surely searching his for something. He's hoping the strategy of agreeing with her might actually get her to drop it. It's worth a try, but it doesn't work.

"Do you?" she asks in an exasperated tone, trying hard to meet his avoidant gaze. "Because anytime I get too close to you, you... you-"

That's when her voice breaks and he glances up at her brimming eyes to be hit with a metaphorical punch to the gut knowing it's not purely anger she's feeling here. Anger he understands; anything else is alarming to witness, liable to throw him off his game if he doesn't rein in his own emotions.

Quickly he glances away, pursing his lips, not trusting himself to say anything because he wants to ease her suffering and that's a path he shouldn't take. He knows the answer to her query too well and no matter how much part of him wants to confess it - and explain his need to draw a line between them - he should know better than to give in to that urge.

Caitlin isn't put off by his undeviating lack of reaction, pushing harder, her voice still fluctuating wretchedly as she gets what she has to say out.

"Why do you get to be concerned about me but I'm not allowed to be concerned about you? You don't get me to tell me how to feel. I can't turn off caring about you. How does it make sense that I'm expected to do that when you can't control yourself, when you fly off the handle."

She reaches out, her hand gripping around his shirt sleeve as if she needs him instead of just needing to understand him. It's too much. She's too close. He wrests his arm back protectively, as if it's wounded, and pulls away further, stumbling two hasty paces out of her reach. Caitlin's face crumples at his actions but she stays her place, respecting the boundary he's imposed. Still, she won't give up the hope - stubbornly determined he'll explain himself if she applies pressure the right way.

Her voice cracks as she pleads with him, an awful blend of anger and confusion that tortures him to hear. "Why, Savitar? Please just tell me what I'm doing wrong. I don't understand. What possible reason justifies-"

"Because I love you!" he practically spits out in an explosion of his own frustration, having missed how effectively she's pushed his buttons. He feels sick as soon as it passes his lips, said with so much distaste for exposing himself when he's so desperately wanted to avoid that.

The shock on her face right after tells him how terrible an admission it is. His mind is reeling and he can't tell if she's hurt he said it like that, hurt he shouted, or not expecting it at all, blindsided by feelings he shouldn't have, let alone express.

"I'm in love with you," he repeats more sedately, but still tinged with as much regret because it isn't anything to be proud of. Caitlin Snow isn't hard to love after all. He, however, should know better than to let himself need, or want, anyone. A weakness he swore off and is liable to be utterly ruined by if he can't shake these damned feelings sooner rather than later.

She can't look at him, instead, she's staring through him blankly, mouth agape. He didn't expect anything positive to come from telling her, which was why he never intended to. Despite the fact it could be worse, the sight of her dismay, and the reality of what he dreaded, creates a miserable tightness in his chest. He wants to push her away more than ever. Better that than to be rejected outright. So he speeds away in the blink of her eye, to be alone with his pain. Alone like he wanted all along, that's what he tells himself.

In the aftermath of his outburst, he doubles down on his previous behavior. Isolating himself as much as possible. Caitlin lets him. Anytime they're in the same room, he ignores her and leaves as soon as possible. She doesn't ever say anything to stop him.

This time it's the other's who won't leave him alone. So many questions asked he refuses to address, keeping his interactions stern and business-like. They don't give any indication they know why he's doing this - other than it being blatantly obvious it's about Caitlin by the gaps they must leave in each other's lives - which only makes matters worse.

There's a gnawing guilt eating away at him for how he told Caitlin he loved her as if he hated her. That thought twists his stomach each time he's reminded of it – every incidental mention of her by Barry or Cisco, and every time Iris deliberately talks about Caitlin in his presence, clearly trying to figure out something from his reaction. Each time he pushes the pain deeper down, using the excuse of helping others to run away from his problems. He knows what he's doing - avoiding any chance their dear doctor will slip back into wanting to help him.

He might want her but he can't afford to need her, to need any of them. They tolerate him now but it's too fragile for him to believe it can last. Carving out a place for him isn't acceptance of who he is because they can't accept his darkness and he can only do so much to dial it down, chipping away at who he is. If they expect the end result to be another Barry Allen they'll be forever disappointed and he can't take that either. More pressingly, he lives in fear that they'll find out the truth any day now and hate him not for what he did before he came to them but for this recent choice that he failed to bury inside himself where it belonged. For hurting her. For daring to love her.

Later, not that much later, he realizes he can't leave it like that with Caitlin. His pain is the cost of having her in his life, however it will be. Besides, he has a feeling if he continues like this they'll end up having yet another passionate argument in a corridor about his risk-taking and that's not a scenario he can take after what she inspired the first time. He can't predict how she'll react to him talking to her again, but it's preferable to the alternative. More controllable, he assumes.

It's hardly dangerous territory and yet somehow stepping into her office has him on high alert. As she snaps her gaze up to meet him, he sees he's not the only one alarmed. Caitlin tenses up at the same time she straightens up, the effect of being on guard that looks wrong on her. He doesn't want that to be what he inspires in her but the alternative isn't better to hope for – what his foolish heart wants isn't a real option.

Her gaze rakes over him briefly and she replies too coldly that he's lost weight, concern somehow kept out of her words. It isn't like Caitlin. He's made her like this and he doesn't want to forget that, except she can't keep it up for long. She bites her lip as they stand in silence and eventually rushes to rummage in a draw.

"Here," she says as she shoves a bag into his hands, "One every hour, doctor's orders."

He lets the bag drop to the floor wordlessly and raises an eyebrow. She knows how awful the nutrition bars taste, even after all the effort Cisco has put into improving them. They're still barely edible. She might as well prescribe Big Belly Burger every hour, that he could at least stand.

She stands there, too close, wringing her hands and he can see her annoyance falling away in the softening of her eyes as she looks up at him. It makes his stomach plummet at the thought she's forgetting why she should be angry. And then she does what he's been half hoping she would do, she reaches out.

This time, her hand curling around his arm gently is welcomed, albeit in the only way he can, by not rejecting it. As she strokes a thumb back and forth over the fabric of his jacket – a soothing action barely felt but so greatly appreciated - he doesn't want this moment to end. But what more is there to it? This is a simple touch that he has yearned for. A simple touch that against all odds scares him like nothing else can. He doesn't want to move. He should, but he wants the opposite, to close the distance. He's missed her and the temptation to let her do whatever she wants here is too great.

"You should stay away from me," is what he manages to croak out in response. He can't move away but maybe he can convince her she should. "I'm not anyone's happy ending."

Caitlin only tightens her grip in response and it's like his heart is squeezed in a vice too, knowing she might actually want him. Knowing things could change if he let it. Suddenly he can't breathe properly and the moment is broken by him jerking away. Reverting to form.

"I don't need anyone!"

Anger flashes up on her face again at his response and he thinks 'Good' because he desperately needs to put distance between them again. If she's angry she might not notice how spooked he is by what she implied.

"Could have fooled, me," Caitlin snaps back.

He's half-way out the door when she shouts at him, "Forget need. What do you want, Savitar?"

He looks to Caitlin then, he can't not. There's a challenge in her eyes as fierce as he's ever seen from her or Frost and a palpable tension, as if her question is suspended, pulled tight across the room waiting for his answer. An answer he won't give for fear of how she'd use it against him.

Because how she's looking at him isn't like a friend would look at him and he knows then without a doubt it isn't one-sided. The things he wants to do to her... The knowledge of how easily they could slip into something else entirely right now if he let it.

But he won't go there today, so the admission sits uncomfortably in the air instead. As good as rejected. Turning to leave, he hears Caitlin take a small shaky breath in; he knows that sound too well, the precursor to things he can't bear to witness. He knows then she deserves better, it only reinforces his decision to storm off.

Leaving things as he had might have been an act of self-preservation, but it does nothing to calm his stomach, the unease in it betraying his true feelings. Even the crackle of lightning on his fingertips feels off to him, his body rebelling. Everything screams wrong, you were wrong. What he wants to do is to storm right back into her office and give her whatever she wants, whatever he has to give though it would never feel enough, be enough. That last sentiment is exactly why he can't, he needs her to understand why it's no good. Somehow she can't, so he avoids Caitlin, avoids facing the difficult questions.

He runs, because running is the one solace in his life, the one thing he can depend on. He runs until he is ragged, sweat beading on his forehead and wicking down the back of his neck. The suit sensors must be going haywire, but Cisco says nothing over comms. He returns to the Cortex, carefully checking who is around before he raids the medbay stash for a couple dozen post-run comfort jellos.

Lazily strolling back into the Cortex, he's dissatisfiedly picking at his seventh pot, to find Cisco is staring intently at him. Cisco scowls and makes a hand motion indicating he should follow him. Savitar is curious enough to go along with whatever this is.

When he steps into Cisco's lab he finds Cisco holding an inconspicuous box with purpose. Savitar folds his arms and leans against the doorframe.

"You gonna exposition at me or do I have to search your lab for the blueprints to that?"

"This box is death to you. I want you to know that."

Savitar stills, going rigid and fists clenching tight at the verbal ambush. Attention successfully grabbed.

Cisco walks towards him and the look on his face means business. Fear is instilled into Savitar despite his rational mind telling the rest of himself not to overreact, that Cisco is, if not his friend anymore, at least on his side. A good guy.

"I could end you. With one button press. That's how easy it is. But I won't."

Cisco walks away from him, sets the box on the table loosely and swivels around, a finger held up in the air indicating he's not done with his monologue. Savitar watches carefully, not sure how to take any of this.

"I won't, because even though I don't really care about you, Cait does. You know, I watched her love Barry from afar for waaay too long. Then you come along and I watched her try to fix you. I really thought she was trying to make you into a substitute Barry and I'm totally not here for that -"

"Do you have a point that isn't threatening or insulting me?"

"Hey, no, hear me out. I thought, at first, you'd be like Anakin to her Obi-wan, bringing out the worst in each other. Sometimes you do, but the rest of the time you're... much as it pains me to admit it, better together. You helped her heal too, you showed her and Frost how to be. I couldn't do that and Barry couldn't do that. Made me realize, you're not Barry anymore but I think I've got a handle on what kind of man you can be. So, you better damn well be him for her or Vibe is coming for you. If Caitlin and Frost don't kick your ass first of course."

Savitar lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Are you done?"

"Yeah. Why, you got a better place to be?"

Savitar smirks, small enough it's almost a smile in a genuine way that he's twisted into his more usual expression.

"I freakin' hope it's where I think you oughtta be. She's in the Speedlab by the way but she's not alone. And you owe me like a zillion," Cisco rambles, counting off the reasons on his fingers, only some of which Savitar hears as he takes his leave, "For saving your ass, for dealing with the tears on my shoulder you caused, for giving you a heads up I'm only 80% sure you deserve -"

Savitar can't get to the Speedlab fast enough, and yet the closer he gets the more his nerves get to him. Taking the last few steps down the corridor to Caitlin is where he finds himself paralyzed.

That's how Iris comes across him. She eyes him up and tilts her head, squinting slightly at him.

"You're going in there empty-handed? I know you're not Barry, but you could do with learning a few lessons from how you used to behave. Going in there without a peace offering is a big N-O."

He flashes in and out of S.T.A.R. Labs, grateful for an excuse to stall, and Iris beams at him when she sees the Jitters coffee takeaway cup and a small cupcake box in his hands.

"That's better. Now prepare to grovel."

He narrows his eyes at Iris, so many questions raised; his brain sent spinning at how matter of fact she is about what's going on.

"How much do you know-"

"More than enough." Iris takes in his look of disbelief and scoffs, "What, you think you're so smooth? Nu-uh. Just because some people couldn't tell, namely Barry, didn't mean people who know, really know you deep down, couldn't see it. Barry wears his heart on his sleeve. With you, it's more like the opposite," Iris says, shrugging her shoulder as if it's nothing she noticed. "When you're trying too hard not to be seen, that's when it matters to you."

"Now go get her," Iris says, hand firm on his back, a light push towards the door that gets him stumbling in the right direction.

Stepping through the door he feels like he could throw up. The feeling only intensifies when Caitlin looks up and looks at him. Really looks at him. Her eyes are a little red which sends a pang through his heart.

He walks up and places the two gifts on the desk next to her, not knowing what to say. They aren't enough. He isn't enough. That's the problem that he's circled around in his head this whole time, why it is they've ended up here – it doesn't do anyone any good to ignore it.

"I'm sorry. I don't deserve you," he says, intending to step away. Caitlin doesn't let him, hand catching on his arm, though she doesn't grip him tightly as she had in her office. There's room to move away if he wants, but he doesn't want to. He never really has.

"I don't know what either of us deserves but I know one thing."

"What do you know, Doctor Snow?" he asks, glancing up, wondering what she is going to surprise him with next. This is such unfamiliar territory to him, his heart hammering in his chest.

"I want you," she says simply. Said not with lust but with heartfelt sincerity as she stares up at him, into his eyes, searching for that answer he didn't give her before.

He doesn't know what to say in response, and he worries she'll take that as another rejection, so he instead moves closer, his other hand raised to rest on her arm in symmetry. And Cait moves closer still, and then him, step by step they come together. Like they are satellites in decaying orbits, falling down together into the gravity well of where they meet until he is almost holding her and their foreheads practically touch. Cait is the one to lean in further to press a tender kiss to his lips and then they stand there, resting his forehead on hers, breathing in the same air intimately.

The tension is back and though he's breathing slow and sure, the air seems thick with the promise of more and he feels lightheaded, a giddiness that prompts ill-advised humor.

"Are we just going to stand in the Speedlab for everyone to gawk at on the security footage, or is this more of a 'your place or mine' deal?"

The tension only ramps up further at that. Cait's eyes darken, she licks her lips and bites down on them for a second. Possibly in anticipation, which stuns him momentarily. Not that she acts on it if so.

"I didn't mean... I don't want to rush...I can take my time-"

"I know," Caitlin replies quickly, scoffing a little, amused. "You don't have a place to go to yet. And as for taking your time, you sure do."

The last comment is said flippantly but affectionately too. Caitlin follows it with the totally unexpected, "Let's go to mine."

He wastes no time speeding them over to hers, nabbing her handbag on the journey out of the labs. However, he stops in front of her door, waiting on her permission to go in even though he's already deposited the coffee and cupcake inside. His being invited in is different. She opens the door and waves him over the threshold like it's natural he join her.

Closing the door behind himself, Savitar walks haltingly to where she now sits on the couch. It's Cait who tugs him down, causing him to tumble into the seat next to her. It's Cait who wraps herself up in his arms and presses her face into the side of his neck like she belongs there.

Despite the innuendo he'd come out with in his nervousness, the main thing he wants is just to be close to her, however that is. To hold her and know she is alive, safe, not going anywhere.

He doesn't think he's going to believe she can be happy with him for a while yet, he finds that hard to picture, but this is what she wants right now. He can accept what she wants today.

As for the future, he hasn't thought of his future in a long time, too plagued by what it was intended to be. The things his head holds of what he was created for, what he was destined to be, rattle around accusatorially – those are the things that lose him sleep, that stop him from being present in what remains of his life. But that's not true now. Now his heart is beating, Caitlin's ear pressed to his chest, listening. They stay that way for a while, until she is satisfied it seems.

"I'm safe. You're safe."

He isn't sure who she aims to reassure as she says it, stroking his hand gently. He thinks it's for her peace of mind too, after the worry he caused and must continually put her through every time he goes out without her. Perhaps this is due to residual fear from the time they didn't speak and she couldn't see for herself. Guilt floods through him at how bad that must have been for a perpetual worrier like her.

He looks down at her nestled against him and swallows his own fear, repeating the sentiment with one significant change.

"We're safe." Left unsaid is, we're together.

Whatever else he fears is true, today it's enough.

End note: Hope you enjoyed. I'd love to hear what you think of it and also do let me know which of the other plot bunnies mentioned you'd be most excited to read next. :)

Upcoming oneshots:

- Savitar rejects his destiny and asks for help getting him out of the speedforce (including elements of 4x01).
- Savitar gets his own personal powerless Groundhog Day.
- Caitlin is gone and Savitar won't accept it.
- Savitar's paradox fix fails and Caitlin won't let that be.
- role reversed SaviSnow
- Savitar doesn't fit in and goes to help Team Arrow but Barry brings him back when Caitlin becomes Frost.
- secret relationship, with some Savitar whump
- Savitar suceeds in spreading himself across time but it's more painful and more than even a speedsters mind can take.
- Savitar suceeds in godhood but it's not all it's cracked up to be and it affects Barry too, so Team Flash need to fix it.