A/N: Unbeta-ed. Read at your own risk.


It took him four months.

Four full months before he returned to the apartment he had shared with Iris.

And even then, Caitlin noticed his hesitance as they stood in front of the building, stack of folded boxes by their feet.

Caitlin didn't think that he was ready to return to this apartment, but it was time to move on.

Barry was there when the topic was brought up in their mini celebration dinner. Joe was the one who brought up the topic when he asked Caitlin if she wanted to have a look at Iris' belongings before he donated them to charity. The detective thought it's time to move on, and since he only has Wally left, there was no point in keeping all of Iris' stuffs that were still at her childhood home.

Barry lost his appetite after that.

That was last week. Barry didn't come to the cortex after that night, telling them that he was busy with his jobs, especially now that it was the finals week for CCU while some of his patients at the hospital required close monitoring and full attention from him. It was understandable that he wouldn't have time to spare for Team Frost.

Though, Caitlin had a hunch that he wasn't telling the complete truth.

Joe couldn't have chosen an even worse timing to ask that question.

It was honestly a bad timing. Barry seemed like he was finally getting over Iris' death, as he was no longer overworking himself. Frost had commented on it multiple times, because it was exhausting to watch him juggling between CCU, the hospital, Team Frost and his increasing volunteerism, but he simply smiled at her despite her worries. Thus, it was a relief when he started paying attention to his rest time recently, and no longer declining the team's invitation to the bar for the break he deserved. It was a great progress, because despite the cheerful and unfazed behaviour he displayed ever since the funeral, Caitlin noticed that he was avoiding any topic about Iris, and if he couldn't avoid it, he would suddenly volunteer at random shelter or orphanage the very next free time he had, and there were always cracks in his voice or facial expressions whenever they breached the topic.

It was a bad timing of Joe's part to tell them that the West's were giving Iris' stuffs away when Barry had shown such great progress. The downtrodden expression on Barry's face was prominent even with the festivities mood of the dinner at Dr. Wells' house—his mood was completely ruined for the rest of the night. Caitlin felt bad for him, because they were supposed to have fun that night, in the belated welcoming party for Barry as well as celebrating Len's full recovery and the months of silence from Scarlet Ripper.

Yep, speaking of a more serious news, it has been three months since the serial killer last made a move.

Woodward's murder was the last case of the serial killer and true to the fashion of the flamboyant serial killer—even his last stunt was an extravagant end. CCPD and the City Hall had gone under fire after Ripper's stunt. The media seemed to focus more on Tony Woodward's scandal rather than highlighting the gruesome murder, that it seemed like they have forgotten that the serial killer was still on the loose. The civilians started questioning the integrity of law and demanded for each officer in CCPD to be investigated to be sure that they were not corrupted. The State Attorney was stripped off his position and power as each of his dirty secrets suddenly come to surface, plunging the Woodward family into the depth of disgrace.

The months went by, and it wasn't after the scandal calmed down did they finally realised that the Ripper has missed his deadline.

For three months.

He missed his scheduled murders for three months.

Speculations started to spring out then, saying that Woodward's murder was the grand finale of the Scarlet Ripper's show of terror. Newspaper headlines, TV shows and online articles were hot on discussing the sudden disappearance of the serial killer, though CCPD and most of Team Frost were trying to convince themselves that Woodward was the last time they would deal with Ripper's handiwork.

Caitlin and Frost, on the other hand, believed that this was just the calm before the storm.

And if that wasn't bad enough, Barry seemed like he was plunged back into deep grief.

"We could do this later, you know?" Caitlin offered, placing her hand over his shoulder in assuring gesture. "We can pack her belongings later."

Barry blinked, almost in slow-motion while his throat bobbed, and his jaw set tight, making it seemed like he was swallowing bile and the bitterness had hurt him. He tilted his head to look at her, his smile was plastic, green eyes dull—and it was the first time Caitlin had seen him so broken. He didn't even behave like this during the funeral.

But the idea to fully get rid of the traces of Iris from his life must have cracked him.

"It's okay," he shook his head and picked up the folded boxes, his voice was soft as he led her inside. "I already had a buyer. We need to clear this place soon anyway," he murmured as they entered the elevator, heading to his floor.

He unlocked and opened the door for her, motioning her to step inside.

The moment she stepped inside, Caitlin felt like she was dragged back to her university years when she often crashed at Iris' place on her bad days.

This apartment screamed Iris everywhere. She must have been in charge of the interior design, since this was a complete contrast to Barry's own penthouse. While Barry seemed to prefer minimalist style, Iris preferred homey and comfort style. The warm colour scheme, soft and plush furniture with extra blankets and cushion, as well as the clusters of pictures on the walls—this was the home everyone wished to return to.

Caitlin found herself striding towards the cluster of frames on the table at the corner, her own lips quirked into a melancholic smile upon seeing the glittery pink frame at the center. Once upon years ago, a drunk and heartbroken Caitlin had gone into a DIY mode and made this stupid frame for Iris, claiming that Iris was the love of her life since all men suck and impossible to date or love. The other woman merely laughed at her drunken babble and accepted the frame, holding Caitlin close as Caitlin cried her heart out for yet another unsuccessful relationship.

It was beautifully melancholic that the picture in the frame was the one they had taken the very next day, when a very cheerful Iris dragged the still hungover Caitlin for a trip to the petting zoo.

Despite the hungover, Caitlin was still able to smile when Iris insisted on a picture of them hugging the cute alpaca.

Well, attempting to hug the alpaca was a more accurate description. They had a proper picture of them hugging the alpaca like a normal tourist, the picture that Caitlin chose as the background of her personal laptop, but Iris has chosen the more disastrous of the pictures taken on that day—of which when the alpaca become affectionate with Caitlin while Iris being an ass of a best friend and did nothing to help Caitlin.

The picture was of a very hungover and shocked Caitlin receiving a wet lick from the alpaca while Iris beamed at the camera, her dark brown eyes squinted in glee while she has her hands frozen in mid-clap.

Caitlin couldn't believe that Iris displayed this picture in the apartment that she shared with her boyfriend.

"Both of you are so cute."

Caitlin turned around towards Barry, feeling heat rose to her cheeks when she realised that he had been seeing this embarrassing picture for months without even been properly introduced to her. He didn't look like he was judging her youthful silliness though, as his gaze fixed on the picture, his eyes softened and completely unguarded, thus allowing Caitlin to notice the waves of emotions inside those green orbs.

"I was so depressed back then," Caitlin smiled sheepishly. "And Iris was a perfect best friend."

"She is perfect," he agreed easily, eyes still fixed on the frozen image in the frame before he reached out to take the frame from her hand, his thumb brushing over the glass longingly. "She is the kind of soothing comfort you want to return home and curl up to."

Caitlin couldn't even disagree.

Iris was her comfort—be it when Caitlin Snow was dormant or when Frost was holding the reign.

Barry's soft snicker then attracted her attention, and she felt her cheeks heated up again when she saw that he had picked up a few more frames from the cluster—all were the pictures of her and Iris. There were two pictures placed in a twin picture frame—at one side was the picture when Iris came to Caitlin's university graduation and the other woman was holding her tight in a proud embrace, while the other side was the exact same situation, only that Iris was the one in graduation robes. There was a collage of pictures from their vacation at the beach right after college graduation, just the two of them—two single ladies having fun belly dancing—and Caitlin had Iris' lips pressed smack on her cheek in one of the pictures in the collage.

Caitlin didn't know what to feel to know that Iris had dedicated this corner for the memories of their friendship.

"I used to worry you know?" Barry started, placing one frame back on the table, just to pick up another one. "She had lots of pictures with you, and all of them, are like, dated back years in the past, and you girls look so close…," he grinned, showing her a particularly scandalous picture of Caitlin and Iris doing the pocky challenge—their noses were touching while Caitlin was tilting her head to bite more of the chocolate biscuit.

Caitlin was blushing for real right now.

The upturn of Barry's smile was teasing and mischievous as he added, "I honest to god thought that you two were a couple and I was her unknowing beard."

"Oh, god, NO!" Caitlin quickly denied, embarrassed at the thought. "Iris would never toy with anyone's heart like that!" she defended, gesturing in complete panic at the picture, "that was a party game, I swear! We were trying to get that minimum 1.5 cm length to win the challenge," she spluttered out, honestly wondering why Iris displayed pictures like this at open place where her boyfriend could easily see. "She truly loves you!"

Barry stared at her for a long silent moment before he finally cracked a genuine grin of the day.

"I know, Cait," he laughed, placing back the frame onto the table. "Though I do admit, that the first month we moved in together, I was honestly wondering if you are her secret girlfriend," he shrugged and laughed softly. "She had all of these intimate moments with you on display, but never introduce us—so I was wondering if she was hinting to that possibility."

Mortified and embarrassed, Caitlin was grateful that Frost was completely asleep since her mental counterpart was still exhausted after the battle last night. God, her alter-ego enjoyed acting gay with Iris and Lisa. Frost even had once given Lisa a lap dance, and a strip show to Iris in one of their girls' sleepover—and that was without any alcohol involved.

Frost would have a field day if she knew that this topic was brought to light.

"She probably never introduces us because she wanted to groom you properly," Caitlin suggested, trying to force her blush away as she added, "…. you know, so that I would have no reason to disapprove you."

Barry's expression contorted to a pained look for a split second before he quickly replaced it with a smile.

The smile seemed forced and Caitlin couldn't help but wince.

"So, did I gain the best friend's seal of approval, Cait?" he laughed, his voice sounded so monotonous and his cheerful expression was obviously forced.

Caitlin felt her heart break for him.

"Yes, Barry, yes," Caitlin nodded, spreading her arms, an offer for a hug. "You're the best man Iris has ever dated. You earned my stamp of approval."

He accepted her offer in a heartbeat, his taller body went pliant in her arms—as if he was melting right there in her cold embrace. It always amazed her that Barry seemed to not have any problem with her naturally cold temperature. Barry never flinched away, even in the coldest of nights; he never subtlety grabbed a sweater and wore it whenever he needed to be near to Frost and he never turned down any offer or chance to hug her—be it when she was Caitlin or Frost.

Caitlin had no questions why in these few months since he joined their team, Barry suddenly became Frost's favourite person, ranking above Lisa and Len, but still slightly below Iris.

She held him tight, patting his back when she heard the slightest sound of choked sob from his throat, knowing how much he had loved Iris, and returning here was a painful reminder that she was gone from their life.

They fell into silence after that. Caitlin remained in the living room—feeling too intrusive to follow Barry into the bedroom—as she started sorting out the personal effects in the living room into the boxes. Barry had planned to sell most of the furniture along with the apartment, opting to only take few of the furniture he was personally attached to, but even excluding that, there were so many personal effects to be sorted out. Caitlin recognized the quilt blanket she and Iris had sewn from their old t-shirts, a fond smile spread on her face as she remembered the other half of the blanket that was folded neatly on Caitlin's own bed back at her apartment. She also recognized all the DIY projects Iris had taken interest in, being the first person that the reporter would send pictures of her completed projects. The picture frames needed to be taken down too—most were pictures of Iris and Barry, with few with her family and also that one corner dedicated to Caitlin and their years of friendship; while the rest were paintings that Iris was fond of.

It took Caitlin two long hours of sorting to notice that there seemed to be nothing that belonged to Barry here.

Did Barry have no personal items in here?

Caitlin didn't have any time to ponder the question because the bedroom door opened, and Barry's legs made appearance as he kicked a box into the living room, the upper half of his body was hidden behind the boxes he was carrying. He placed the boxes down, huffing a heavy breath as he grinned at Caitlin.

"I have never noticed how much clothes she has in the closet…," he huffed, nodding to one of the boxes from the stacks that he had carried out. "That was mine and the rest were hers."

Caitlin gave him a teasing grin. "Did you check under the bed? She had a habit storing her unused shoes in boxes under the bed."

Barry's face twisted to a horrified look. "Are you serious?" he blinked, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. "She had a whole closet of shoes at the front door."

"Go and check."

He did, and soon she heard his voice softly muttering from the room;

"Oh my god."

Caitlin couldn't help herself. She burst to an amused laughter.

What the hell, Caity? Frost muttered groggily deep within their shared subconscious, awoken by Caitlin's giggles. You lost your marbles or what?

Caitlin didn't have the chance to reply because Barry walked out of the bedroom, this time with a slight traumatised look on his face.

"We're taking a break," he decided, throwing himself onto the couch, back slumped against the soft surface, one arm thrown over his face.

Caitlin burst to another fit of laughter.

"Weakling," she teased, reaching out for the box containing Iris' clothes.

"Meanie," he retorted, removing his arm so that he could send a sulky glare at her.

Caitlin giggled.

Barry scowled at her.

The fuck is happening? Frost questioned, this time sounding confused.

We're helping him sorting out their stuffs before he sells this place.

Frost fell to silence after that, and Caitlin could feel her counterpart was looking through her memory, trying to catch up with today's events. Then, she felt the fond melancholy stemmed from Frost's side of the mind as the images of the glittery pink picture frame came up to her mind.

I miss her, Frost admitted softly.

Me too, Frost, Caitlin agreed, shooting a quick look at Barry while her hands continued to sort out Iris' clothing into categories. All three of us miss her.

Frost fell back into the silence, and Caitlin let her mental counterpart wallowed in the grief she rarely admitted, as images after images of the good times Frost had with Iris throughout the two years of her existence since the particle accelerator explosion filled their shared subconscious. Frost rarely felt safe enough to show weaknesses, but it seemed like she had considered this moment as safe enough for her to be emotionally vulnerable. She let the soft sobs of Frost resounding in the depth of their subconscious and quirked a smile at Barry, who now had sat cross-legged in front of her as he helped her to sort out the clothes.

She couldn't help but think the horrified frown on his face was hilariously amusing.

"Do you think it's possible for me to rent out her dresses to teenage girls who couldn't afford to buy dress for their prom?" he randomly muttered as the pile of Iris' dresses kept growing. "Like, a small shop that girls on budget could rent a dress without having to spend lots of money? Some of these dresses weren't exactly Goodwill materials…"

"Maybe…," Caitlin hummed, eyeing the pile of dresses. "That was nice of you though," she commented, gesturing to the pile, "…to give out these expensive dresses to teens on budget."

"It's not like they are any use to me," Barry merely shrugged.

Half of the dresses in the pile Caitlin had recognized as the ones they bought together when they were out shopping, but the other half was high-end, expensive designer dresses that she was sure were gifts from Barry. Only his pay check could afford such dresses, and Barry was completely right when he said that the dresses sure didn't look like they would fit to be donated. The pile of Iris' more casual clothes would definitely be donated while the smallest pile was the clothes Caitlin considered to carry sentimental value and she would like to keep….

… such as the sweater that Caitlin and Lisa had painstakingly knitted for Iris and the scarf that Len had crocheted for the reporter. There was no way on Earth she was going to donate those. Those were definitely going into the box in her closet, along with the glittery pink frame—as a memory of their friendship.

Though, she stopped sorting when she noticed the blue sweater that Barry was folding, the bronze raven symbol at the front was too familiar to not be noticed.

No way…, Caitlin thought.

"Is that Ravenclaw sweater?" she asked, shock was evident in her voice.

"Hmm…?" Barry looked up from the sweater and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh?" his gaze fell back to the sweater; the lightest tint of pink suddenly rose to his neck. "Yeah, it is."

Iris never watched Harry Potter, Frost voiced out, now paying attention to the outside world. Why does she have the official Ravenclaw sweater?

"Iris never watched Harry Potter," Caitlin said, an inquiring statement to Barry as well as an affirmation to Frost's comment. "She said that it isn't her thing."

There was a beat of silence.

"She made me watch all seasons of Games of Thrones….," he finally said, coughing once and averting his eyes to not meet her gaze as if he was about to reveal something embarrassing. "It's only fair if she watched Harry Potter with me too…and I kinda have this thing for couple looks…," he cleared his throat, hints of pink spread to his cheeks. "So, yeah…I bought that for her."

Caitlin stared at him, a teasing smirk grew on her face.

"So…you're a Potterhead too?"

He quirked a smug smirk. "A proud Slytherin," he said, tipping his head in her direction. "You?"

"Forever Gryffindor," Caitlin grinned back, before adding; "Even Frost got sorted into Gryffindor on Pottermore."

I still think that the quiz was rigged, Frost grumbled. I'm totally Slytherin material.

Oh, shush, Frosty.

"Oooh, ouch," his smirk grew to a genuine smile now, green eyes gleaming. "We are supposed to be mortal enemies."

Caitlin laughed. "We don't have to be."

He just smiled at her words, but didn't comment further. Instead, he put the clothes in front of him away and stole the blouse in Caitlin's hand. He gave her that charming smile again, the expression on his face was an impersonation of a puppy.

"Let's take a break," he suggested, giving her his best cute puppy face. "Let's order some food and watch a movie before we back to packing?"

Caitlin honestly couldn't resist that puppy face, so she simply grinned and nodded.

She was starving anyway, so she won't say no to a break and food.

"Pizza sounds good?" he asked as she was putting the unsorted clothes away, his phone was already in hand.

"That sounds lovely," she agreed and crawled towards his DVD collections, browsing through the selections before picking out a title. "You up for Fantastic Beasts?" she asked, hoping that he would say 'yes' since she hasn't gotten around to watch the movie yet.

"Oooh, I love that movie," he beamed, seemingly pleased with her selection.

And that's how half an hour later, she found herself resting her back against the armrest of the couch with her feet on his lap, two large boxes of pizza—since they both couldn't agree on the same topping—were on the coffee table as they engrossed themselves watching the movie. Caitlin ended up leaning against his shoulder halfway of the movie, while he seemed to take comfort in hugging his own knees, his head tilted to rest on Caitlin's head as they watched Newt Scamander wrecking chaos in New York city.

Even with the mess and clutter of boxes, this apartment still felt like home.


"Oh my god, we're finally done!"

Barry quirked an amused smile when Caitlin plopped onto the now clear floor, her arms were stretched out to the side, legs bent as she stared at the ceiling, her breathing was slightly ragged. It was already late at night when they finally managed to clear all the personal effects in the apartment, leaving only the furniture that Barry intended to sell to remain untouched, hence it made sense that they both were dead tired from the day of cleaning.

Barry honestly didn't know what to feel when he returned here.

He thought that by heeding to Killer Frost's advice to take a break from his night job would put him back in track, would help him stopped regretting his decision to murder Iris and made his life normal again. However, he couldn't stop the rise of nausea and twisting pain in his chest when he heard Joe's suggestion of donating Iris' belongings to charity. Jesse Wells' cooking suddenly tasted like sawdust in his mouth the moment Joe breached the topic, that Barry found it hard to pretend that he was enjoying the food. It was weird. Iris shouldn't matter anymore to him since he made the choice to kill her, but the discomfort welled up his chest at the notion of getting rid of traces Iris from his life.

He couldn't understand his own feelings. Iris had toyed with his feelings right from the beginning, so why was he so devastated every time he let himself thinking about her?

It felt so wrong—incredibly wrong—to be rid of her when he knew that she still has a strong grasp on his heart even from the realm of death.

The fact that he was ironically surrounded with warmth from Team Frost's friendly hugs made it even harder for him to forget Iris.

Everything warm reminded him of her.

Thus, he often sought solace in Frost's coldness, the only person that did not remind him of Iris' warmth. Oh, the irony. He had planned to use Team Frost to achieve his goal to heal the Flash, yet he grew dependence on the woman that was supposed to be his enemy. He found comfort in her freezing hugs, as it was a complete opposite of Iris—something that he was currently craving in his mission to get over his dead girlfriend. Frost and Caitlin were like drugs for him, his own personal morphine, as holding her dulled him from the odd pain he felt every time Iris reached out from the dead to remind him of his love to her.

Iris had played him. She toyed with his heart. He shouldn't feel any guilt for murdering her.

But he did. He did feel the guilt drowned him in regret every time he was reminded of her warmth and their good times together that he couldn't even stop the mournful sobs from escaping his throat.

He hated it so much when he lost control over his own emotions.

His throat clenched while his eyes stung with heat when he threw himself next to Caitlin, laying as close as possible to the vigilante, craving her coldness, wanting her freezing body temperature to dull the pain in his heart and reminded him that there was something else that could sooth him other than Iris' warmth.

He casted a quick glance to the length of her body, suddenly needing the coldness to engulf him.

Would it be creepy if he hugged her now?

Barry glanced to his side again, where Caitlin had her eyes closed and hands clasped on her stomach and decided that yes, he would seem creepy if he suddenly hugged her now, since they only knew each other for like four months and random hugs when they were lying on the floor of his apartment would definitely breached the friendship code.

Caitlin stretched from her lying spot. "I should get going," she said, turning her face to the side to smile at him.

"It's late. You can take the bedroom," Barry suggested before he could even think, and then had to wonder why the hell he wanted her to stay when he had arranged a night out with Killer Frost tonight.

Though, he still couldn't stop himself from adding;

"I'll sleep on the couch."

His mouth was really having a rebellion against his mind now.

The strategic side of his mind convinced him that this was a strategy to ensure that she didn't get in his way while he tried to get his groove back by terrorizing the city with her villainous doppelganger.

Another uncategorized part of his mind seemed to disagree though, suggesting that she needed to stay here because it was safer for her, since Killer Frost wouldn't even care if she hurt her own doppelganger.

Unlike the Flash, Killer Frost has no sentimental attachment to any of her doppelgangers.

"Barry, I'm not exactly a helpless damsel in distress, you know?" Caitlin deadpanned, brows rose to her hairline. "Len, Lisa and Cisco are out patrolling tonight, and I have Frost—so the possibility of danger is small even if I walked home," she explained, grinning at him. "I'm not depraving you of your own bed."

"The couch is comfortable," Barry retorted, turning around to lie on his side, eyes peeking up at her in the way that he hoped would be enough to melt the hero's heart. "And I appreciate the company."

The city was not safe for either Caitlin or Frost tonight—not when Killer Frost would be visiting.

He must have looked convincing because Caitlin's expression fell and twisted to that of a sympathy, her eyes softened, and it almost seemed automatic and natural of her—the kind-hearted Mama Bear Caitlin—when she reached to him and ran her cold fingers through his hair.

The way her fingers thread through his hair felt so familiar yet so new that his eyes fluttered close, his shoulders slacked in complete relaxation.

She was the exact opposite of Iris, yet she offered the exact same comfort.

Barry was so fond of her.

Thus, half an hour later, when she was in the shower in the very bedroom he had shared with Iris before, Barry found himself hesitating. His hands halted mid-air when he was about to pour the sleeping drugs inside her hot cocoa, guilt started clawing at his heart. It was a drug he had tried to concoct for the Flash, and wasn't strong enough by speedster's standard—since the Flash only got drowsy and half-lucid for half an hour before he was back up and running—but he knew that it was enough to knock Caitlin out for the rest of the night.

But, would he really drug her tonight?

Barry exhaled heavily, squared his shoulder and dumped the drug into the mug.

He knew that if his path crossed with Len, Lisa or Cisco tonight, they were bound to call her for backup and that was a major nope for him.

Killer Frost was itching for an ice battle—and Barry knew Caitlin and Frost were at a disadvantage against the ruthless ice villain. Central City Frost was no match to Killer Frost who had single-handedly massacre a whole military force in the war that the Flash started on Dark Earth.

The body counts and experience between the two version of Caitlin Snow were astronomically different.

"Thank you for letting me stay," her voice startled him that he almost jumped, but he managed to not do so as he curled his fingers around the mugs, plastered a smile on his face and turned around to face her.

"Not a problem," he grinned, offering the tampered cocoa to her. "I appreciate the company," he said, resisting the urge to wince when the guilt clawed again in his chest as she trustingly sipped on the cocoa.

"You just said that because you don't want me out there fighting criminals," Caitlin huffed, smiling behind her mug.

"You need your sleep. Plus, it's your day off," Barry retorted, shifting into his no-nonsense-doctor tone. "And Len would adore me for life if I stop you from stealing his comeback glory."

There was a beat of comfortable silence.

"Is he really going to be okay?" Caitlin murmured, her eyes drooping while her voice slurred in a huge yawn. "He has fully recovered, but is it okay for him to go on being a hero right after getting the 'okay' from you?"

"He will be okay," Barry smiled, amused that Caitlin has emptied her mug in seconds. "You, on the other hand, seemed like you're about to pass out."

Caitlin gave her a shy sleepy smile. "I don't know, Barry…," she murmured, her drooping eyes flashed white and Barry knew that Frost was the one who was talking to him now, "…I just feel safe around you." she yawned, half of her hair were turning white while the rest remained red as she turned around to face him. "And sleepy…I'm definitely sleepy…Oh my god, when was the last time I actually sleep?"

Barry felt his breath hitched when her transformation stopped halfway. He was staring at both Frost and Caitlin—red hair and brown eyes on the right side while platinum hair and white eyes on the left side, and they were looking at him—both of them—as they struggled to remain properly standing.

Barry placed his own mug onto the counter, the cocoa tasted like guilt on his tongue when he tried to drink it as he tentatively threw his arm around her shoulder and led her back to the bedroom. He didn't know why it felt so wrong to drug Caitlin to sleep. Was it because he was her nemesis? Hell, it shouldn't be. Even if he wasn't her nemesis, his action was justified. Her body needed the sleep—since the switch between Frost and Caitlin made their body to be constantly used and awake—and he also was genuinely trying to protect her from a confrontation against her evil doppelganger.

Though, he couldn't stop the odd discomfort of guilt from growing within his chest and ensnared his heart.

Caitlin promptly threw herself onto the bed the moment Barry helped her to sit on the mattress. Barry could see that the drug was working nicely on her as she yawned again and climbed under the duvet, burrowing herself until only her dual-coloured eyes and the top of her head were visible. She gave him another sleepy smile and patted his thigh.

"Night, Barry~" Caitlin murmured, before both of her eyes flashed white and her smile switched to a teasing sultry smirk as Frost added;

"Feel free to climb in and cuddle if you're lonely on the couch, doc."

Barry laughed, amused at the blush that dusted Caitlin cheeks when the right eye switched to warm brown again.

"Let me take you out for a dinner first and then we can discuss about that," he said, shifting his thigh to avoid the swat from the woman's cold hand. "Good night, Cait," he murmured softly, as those bi-colour eyes fluttered shut. "And sweet dreams, Frost."

Barry sat there in utter silence then, with only Caitlin's soft breathing resounding in the room as he stared down at his own knees, twisting and pulling on his fingers nervously.

It felt so wrong to drug Caitlin like this. She had done nothing to hurt him.

She had done nothing to hurt him.

"My oh my, Barr…," a sweet voice cooeda strangely familiar yet impossible voice that greeted him from the doorand Barry stiffened, eyes still on his knees as he dared not to lift his head up, shock and disbelief washed down his spine. "I can't believe that you actually drugged her."

No way. There is no way…. No way this is possible—

Barry started shaking.

"You're not going to look at me, Barr?" she cooed again, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight, wanting to get rid of the image of a sulky pout that he once considered irresistibly adorable. "I'm wounded."

Then, cold fingers suddenly grasped his chin, tilting his face up to stare into her eyes.

"Don't you miss me, Barr?"

The moment he met the gaze of those dark eyes, heat stung at his own, a drop of hot tears trickled down his cheek as he croaked out;

"Iris."

She still looked the same, felt the same. The same dark brown eyes. Her skin was the same colour of roasted chestnut and still so soft like the finest silk—just like the last time he remembered touching her. Her hair carried the same hint of her favourite strawberry shampoo, wavy loose ebony curls that fell over her face and brushed over his neck, the familiar ticklish sensation made his heart twisted in pain. Her hands then moved to cup his cheeks, as she climbed up his lap—her coldness felt oddly familiar, but the touches were foreign, so unlike what he remembered.

She was still Iris, though.

"Iris," he whimpered, looking straight into her dark brown eyes as she nodded and bent down to nuzzle her freezing nose to the underside of his jaw. "Iris," he sighed, eyes squeezed shut when she trailed a kiss down his throat. "Iris."

The last one was close to a whine.

She giggled, her breath felt freezing cold against his skin—far colder than Frost herself—though Barry's throat still tightened at the familiar softness of her kisses. He almost let out a pathetic whimper and was so close to wrap his arms around her smaller body, wanting to cling to her before the pain engulfed his heart—reminding him of her harsh words, her confession of never loving him and that she was toying with his heart for the sake of justice ever since the beginning…

The anger overwhelmed his pain and he promptly pushed her away.

That was when he noticed the slight flash of white in Iris' eyes.

Of. Fucking. Course.

Everyone on Dark Earth has horribly wicked sense of humour.

"Oh, for fuck's sake…," he groaned, sending a light kick to her knees as 'Iris' doubled over the floor in a barrage of laughter. "It's not funny, you little bitch."

"What's wrong, Barr?" her lips curled to a smirk as she crawled towards him, resting her chin on his lap, her fingers trailed cold path up his thigh. "Don't you miss me, baby?"

"If you want to fuck a Barry Allen, ask the Flash, Frosty," Barry grumbled, glaring his nastiest death glare at the woman. "Or Savitar," he added as if as an afterthought. "They are always up for sex."

She pouted, looking so much like Iris in once upon Barry's memory, but in the same time, she looked completely different too—from the predatory glint in her eyes, to the malicious hint in her grin and the deadly cold of her skin, it should be obvious from the start that she was not Iris. Her gaze darted briefly to the slumbering Caitlin, her grin grew wider when she fished out a small device from her pocket and pointed the device to her face.

A bright flash of light later, a completely different woman stood in front of him.

"Not. Funny." Barry huffed, relaxing now that it wasn't Iris face that was looking at him. "It's really not funny."

"Oh, baby," Killer Frost cooed, pressing her cold palms over his cheeks. "Did joining Team Frost make you lose your funny bone?"

Barry rolled his eyes and tried to pry her hands away.

"Barry, Ripper, come on," she drawled, ignoring his attempts and cup his neck instead. "You used to be so sporting to my jokes."

"Your joke crossed the line, Killer Frost," he spat venemously.

"Hey, in my defence, this is your dear doppelganger's idea," Killer Frost retorted, moving one hand to cup his jaw so that he would look at her as she nudged his legs open and situated herself between his legs. Her white eyes darted towards Caitlin again, blue-tinted lips quirked to a mocking smirk. "We can't have the good name of Central City's hero to be sullied with my charms."

Barry tensed up, feeling the slight dread grew in his heart at her implied meaning. Saying that this was the Flash's idea was just a nicer way to phrase that it was an actual order that Killer Frost was obliged to follow. Barry knew that there was no way for him to stop her from wearing Iris' face whenever she joined him terrorizing the city.

"In another word, all of you want to torture me," he chose to deadpan instead, acid leaked from each syllable.

"Oh, Ripper, baby, that would only be me," Killer Frost grinned, pressing her cold palms to his chest, making him shudder at the unexpected cold. "Your pain excites me," she cooed, her thumb stroking over his thumping heart, "…and I feel so good seeing you being tormented with guilt and broken love."

Barry's jaw hardened as the pain twisted in his chest again.

"You're adorably arousing when you're in pain…," she hummed, before adding, as if an afterthought, "…and the Flash is more interested in ruining Iris' name rather than torturing you, even when she is already dead."

Barry groaned, completely annoyed. "Fuck off."

She grinned back at him, retreating just slightly so that she could flash the light to her face and transformed to Iris West once again before she tossed his costume to him.

"Change or I'll strip you. We're going to have a date," she ordered, nodding to his costume and winked at him. "I need to make sure that Central City's favourite serial killer has a powerful comeback murder."

Barry remained sitting at the edge of the bed, and didn't make any move to change.

Killer Frost rolled her eyes and stalked towards him, only to scandalously situated herself on his lap, straddling him.

"Trust me that I'd enjoy stripping you, Ripper," she purred when he remained unmoving, her cold hands played with the hem of his shirt. "You have the similar sexy body as your doppelgangers, and you wouldn't have the powers to phase out of my ice like them, so, hurry and change, Scarlet Ripper, before things gone south," she urged, reaching out one hand to his collar—the first few buttons of his shirt popped undone to her strength—while her other hand has definitely gone south.

Barry stared at her, struggling to look straight into the face that she was wearing, as he muttered;

"You're a sadist."

"And that's why you love me."


A/N: Uh-uh. Killer Frost visited while wearing Iris' face. Team Frost is up for a shock.

I honestly think that this version of Barry Allen would fit in Slytherin easily, and that was not because he was evil but because he was cunning and ambitious. And Frost as a Gryffindor is easy to decide because she and Caitlin would both jumped in front of danger to protect their friends.

Hope you enjoy this new update. Next update will be a confrontation with the rest of team Frost and I'm so excited to write it!

And thank you to all of my readers that had reviewed my story. I do read your review and your beautiful words made me write faster. Thank you so much!