The walls of the engineering room were far better for interdimensional video calls than the walls of Caitlin's bedroom. For one thing, there was no competing light coming from the window, so it was easier to see. For another, there was no odd, Orange Peel gray texture behind the image.

It wasn't helping, though, that she was surrounded by the ghosts of projects Earth-66's Cisco and Ronnie and the other engineers here hadn't lived to finish. She couldn't have told you what even one of them did if she tried, but it hurt to look at them all the same. She could tell which table was Cisco's—out of everyone else's similar mess, his had a little bobblehead of Captain Kirk in its midst, and there was an empty bag of Swedish Fish beside a clump of wires. Earth-1's Cisco Ramon detested Swedish Fish, so that one was new, but no one else could've been sporting that bobblehead.

Ronnie's had her name carved into the tabletop, probably with a hot piece of metal in one of his more distracted moments. It didn't have any hearts by it, or their paired initials nearby, nothing so cliched, but she recognized the handwriting. When she saw it, Caitlin wondered if coming in here had been a bad idea, had been too much. But she was at peace with Ronnie's death now. Both of them. At least on this Earth, she reminded herself in a sort of twisted attempt at solace, we died together.

Besides, nothing could be too sad when she had Barry in the room with her. In a manner of speaking.

"Hey, Cait," he greeted as the projector flickered to life, after a moment of the two of them setting it up. He was in Earth-1's med bay, according to the background, and Caitlin's eyebrows came down.

"Are you okay?" she checked, not returning his hello, eyes on the gurney behind him. He wasn't in his Flash suit.

Barry glanced around, realizing what was worrying her. "Oh! Yeah. Yeah, no, I'm fine—it's just quieter in here. Wally almost blew up his Kid Flash uniform earlier and Cisco's doing the 'my suit' thing." He gave her a cheeky grin. "This is our spot anyway. Thought I'd stick to routine."

Caitlin rolled her eyes at him, but she was beaming. "You seem cheerful."

Barry shrugged a shoulder. "I'm happy to see you. Oh—" he held up a small piece of paper. "And Iris just showed me these last night." He brought it closer to the camera so she could read it. "Can you see it?"

Caitlin squinted. It was a Save the Date! notice for their wedding. She tilted her head as Barry pulled it back. "No red and gold lettering?" she teased.

He raised his eyebrows, still grinning. "Nah, we thought that and making Mirror Master our ring bearer was one hint too many. People might start to think Iris is marrying the Flash or something."

"Right," Caitlin chuckled with him. "Well, congratulations, Mister Allen."

Barry heaved a happy sigh. "I spent so much time worrying we'd never make it this far." He gestured aimlessly with a hand. "With Iris—not knowing if she was gonna live long enough to even make these..." He set the flyer down somewhere off-camera. "It's like I was wearing a...really heavy backpack, you know, and somebody just ripped it off me. I'm free."

Caitlin nodded. "We're due for a happily ever after around here," she told him quietly. Eyebrow quirking, she added, "And it's nice to see a smile on that face for a change. I'm pretty sure the one on this Earth doesn't know how to smile anymore."

Barry folded his arms, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "You'll fix that." He lifted his chin. "How's he doing?"

"He's..." Caitlin bit her lip.

Barry leaned forward, jostling the speaker. "Did he do something to you?" his voice had become louder, harder. "Cait?"

Caitlin made a face that told him he was being too hasty. "No—he's...adjusting."

She told him about Savitar's latest endeavors, keeping Central City safe without really showing himself. She told him how Savitar had caught Heat Wave, and Barry's face crackled and broke just a little when she mentioned that Eddie Thawne was alive and well on Earth-66. She knew Eddie was one of his biggest regrets. Caitlin told him about Savitar's two bullet wounds, and his snark, and how he'd kicked Wally out. She told him what Savitar had said about her Killer Frost powers. It felt so good to spill it all, to hand it to him as if pulling items from her purse, one by one, for him to examine. She hadn't realized how much she needed to vent until her hero was onscreen.

Barry just looked at her with his kind green eyes and his tensed mouth, listening. With his arms still folded, she was reminded immediately of Savitar, and a pang of homesickness for the Flash threw her. For her friend. She didn't know that she still hated Savitar the way she had before all of this—before they saved him from the Paradox—but she was sure they weren't quite friends yet. It was unbalancing, to look at him and so clearly feel the absence of that fondness and trust. He was supposed to be a copy of Barry, but they weren't friends? It didn't make sense. Her mind and emotions didn't know what to do with it. The situation was disarming, even as they were learning to work together.

Finally, she came to her plan to save Clarissa Stein. "If we can find Kyle Nimbus on this Earth," Caitlin wrapped up, "and I can use his genetic information to—to develop some kind of cure for what Stein's wife is facing, we'll not only be saving a life; it could be the key to getting the Professor on our side." She waited, hoping he was proud of her brilliant plan. It wasn't often she was the one coming up with schemes.

But Barry looked apologetic, hands on his knees. "He's not gonna want a team, Cait. Not yet."

Caitlin's eyebrows puckered. "He needs one. He can't be this Earth's hero like he has been on his own. You of all people should know that. And..." She tucked her own hands underneath her in her stool, glancing up at the projection. "I can't come home until I know he has friends to keep him in check. That's what I promised him."

Barry nodded. "I know. But—I mean, you've gotta understand, Savitar comes from...a time where we—us, our Team? We let him down. We threw him away." His voice had become thick, echoing through the engineering room.

Caitlin was shaking her head, looking at the floor stubbornly, before he had finished. "I don't believe that. He's you. We would never—"

"No, they would." Barry was staring at something off-camera, probably the wall. "They would. The Team Flash from 2024, the year he was created? The year we trapped him in the Speed Force? They were...broken, Caitlin. After Iris died..." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "My future self kicked everybody out. He shut down S.T.A.R. Labs, he shut down the team."

Suddenly it was colder in there. "I don't un—"

"I sent Joe away." Barry said it as if that would explain exactly how much 2024's Flash had snapped. "I wasn't there for him. I wasn't there for any of you. To see me, a duplicate of me, a time remnant, going to them and asking them for help?" The picture flickered, but Caitlin thought his eyes looked a little too wet. "Yeah, they abandoned him. I abandoned them. I was selfish, I chose to be alone. So they left me alone. That includes Savitar."

Caitlin stared at him, heartbeat slowing. She tried imagining it again. Imagining a Barry Allen that would close down their home, their headquarters, a Barry that would send them away and leave Joe all on his own. He had lost his mother, he had lost his father. They way he described it, Barry had lost both parents more than once. If that hadn't brought him so low, seeing Zoom kill Henry right in front of him, having to order the Reverse Flash to murder his mother in order to restore the timeline—if that couldn't make him broken enough to cast them all aside, but losing Iris could...she couldn't wrap her head around it. That wasn't the Barry she knew. Something had been missing the second time, the Infantino Street time, something that should have kept his heart beating even after Iris was taken from him. 2024 Barry didn't have to be alone, but he had allowed it to swallow him, he'd chosen it. Why?

Barry let out a little puff of air, finally adding, "Believe me, he's gonna need some time to trust people again. I mean, from what you told us, it sounds like he's out there trying to be the Flash—"

"He doesn't want to be called Flash," Caitlin interrupted.

Barry faltered. An adorable twist of confusion raided his expression. "What? What does he call himself?"

"Nothing yet."

"He's gotta have a name."

"The newscasters are calling him a shadow," she offered, showing her palms.

"The Shadow?" Barry made a face. Then he made a discouraging noise. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I."

"Shadows aren't fast."

"Exactly—"

Barry waved his hands, shaking his head. "Anyway, sorry—just—" He sighed. "At least he's trying to be a hero again, right? One step at a time. He'll get there. But he needs your help, Cait, he needs you to show him." He hesitated, then added, a little more earnestly than she would have expected, "Then come home. Okay?"

Caitlin gave him a small smile. "As fast as I can."

"I can't have you missing my wedding," Barry added, delivering an ultimatum.

Caitlin almost pouted, offended. "You wouldn't change the date for me?"

"Talk to Iris."

"Barry!"

"Talk to Iris!" While she was laughing, he added, "I'm serious. If it comes to it, I'll run over there and drag you out myself."

Caitlin opened her mouth to object to that, but suddenly the image rippled, static claiming Barry's voice as he tried to continue his threats. Not again, Caitlin wanted to groan, but she held it in.

"What's—on—" The sound on Barry's end came in and out, the picture freezing and starting up and freezing again. "Cait?"

"I think that's Savitar calling me," Caitlin explained, voice raised, as if volume were the problem. She bent down to pick up the walkie talkie projector. "I'm sorry—I'll talk to you later, Barry!"

The sound was completely cut off by the time, but as she narrowed her eyes up at the image, she thought she could make out what he seemed to be saying by reading his lips. She caught the word promise. Keep your promise. His green eyes looked so pitiable for a moment, image frozen again, she wanted to call Cisco and demand a breach right then. She missed Earth-1. She missed Barry, she missed all of it.

More static. But duty calls.

The device collapsed back into walkie talkie form. Using the heat sensor, she transformed it into her comms, attaching the bluetooth to her ear.

"What is it, Savitar?" She hadn't meant to snap, but these interruptions could only be handled with grace and poise for so long.

"You busy?" came a harsher, colder version of the voice she had heard laughing just ten minutes ago. Sounded like he was shouting over something.

"I— "Caitlin tucked a piece of hair away from her cheek. "Not anymore," she admitted, forcing her tone into neutrality.

"Got time for a house fire?" he asked again, and she noticed the rush of noise in the background at last. "Or would you rather go back to Skyping your boyfriend?"

Somehow he knew she had been calling Barry? Caitlin's eye roll was award-worthy. She considered telling him about the Save the Date! flyers, just to shut him up, but she knew how cruel that might be.

"Don't be insufferable," she huffed. "What do you need me to do?" All business now.

"Go to the Cortex. Get a 3D blueprint on the building. I need to know if this thing's coming down."

Caitlin wondered if he might spontaneously combust upon using the word please, but decided quickly that now was not the time for Cisco-esque jibes. She hurried into the corridor, almost running. As she turned a corner, she heard a loud noise—a kind of shuffle.

Caitlin stopped suddenly.

She made a face, and she must've made a noise too, because she heard Savitar say, "What's the problem?"

"Nothing, it—" Caitlin looked around, but the hallway was as wide and empty as ever. "There's a...a very...weird smell in the corridor."

Savitar didn't respond. He had probably shut off the comms. He didn't have time to deal with odd smells, apparently. Caitlin took one more turn around the area. The scent was acrid, like the smell of mop detergent or gasoline. Was one of the machines they had patched up on the fritz? This S.T.A.R. Labs was improving with their stay, but it was still very much a beaten-down, neglected shell of what they were used to. Maybe something had gone wrong and now there was some kind of chemical leak.

Whatever it was, aside from the smell itself, there was no corporeal evidence of anything out of the ordinary. Nothing but the floors leading on, the lined walls surrounding it, the low ceiling, the air vents, and herself.

But there was a house burning down somewhere, and Savitar needed a 3D map if he was going to keep civilians safe. She rushed to the Cortex, dismissing the scent for now.

Her monitor seemed to take hours to boot up, but it had been a long time since Caitlin had thrown a come on you stupid thing tantrum over an electronic device. She had been working with them for years; she was very aware that the machines were not sentient and would not respond to shouting and physical scolding. It took even longer to get a diagram of the specific house up, based on Savitar's location.

Caitlin tapped her comms, leaning toward the screen. "Can you hear me?"

"What do you have?" That was a yes.

"Did you get everyone out?" Caitlin demanded, a sudden fear clenching her.

"What do you have?" Maybe that was a yes too.

"The structure from the outside seems to be mainly brick," she rattled off, clicking and dragging to turn the 3D house. There was no sign of flames in the picture, but then, the analyzing program was only designed to copy a live version of the building, not the elements or living beings surrounding it. "The fire must've come from something inside, a timber frame maybe, or more likely an outlet. It was probably the roof that caught first."

"Doesn't matter."

"Right—right, basically it shouldn't fold in on itself just yet, but it could take roughly thirty-two minutes to start decomposing from the inside. No big collapse...but..." She chewed her lower lip a little. This next part might take convincing. "It would probably help the authorities if you put the fire out yourself before any more damage was done."

"I just wanted to know if I had to get all these idiots out of the area," came the wooden response. "Somebody's house goes up and everybody wants to take a picture."

"Millennials," Caitlin agreed, a flower of teasing in the undertone.

Whether he caught the hint of friendliness or not wasn't clear. "I'm done here."

The flower shriveled and died. Caitlin flung an arm halfway out in frustration. "You can't at least put some of it out? It's not like you don't have time."

"I'm hungry."

"Being a hero again means doing everything you can." Caitlin mentally pulled out her soapbox. He may have been Barry's remnant, but Barry's instinctual urge to help was being actively smothered. Instead he was favoring the Flash's more stubborn side. And his appetite. "Not running away once the bare minimum is over with."

There was a moment of silence. Caitlin pulled off her comms and checked that the little green light was on. He hadn't shut off their connection. He'd heard her.

"Savitar—"

"Is the river north or west of here?" He sounded exasperated, as usual.

Caitlin tried not to smile and failed, so settled for not letting him hear it lest he change his mind. "It's north. Five blocks. But you don't need water, you—"

"Too far away." Savitar's little dot onscreen darted toward a pocket of heat signatures outside the one mammoth blotch of red that was the burning house.

"What are you doing?" Caitlin demanded, squinting.

"Borrowing their hoses."

She tried to finish her earlier thought, confused. "You could just create turbulence using your arms. Remember?"

"No thanks."

"But it's faster." Caitlin zoomed in on the structure's heat signal. "More efficient."

"No thanks."

Four minutes later, he had drenched the building, and the blotch of red on Caitlin's screen had disappeared. She sighed, switching off the comms. He didn't take the best routes, he barely thought things through—he was like the rookie version of Barry, but with zero listening skills.

The Cortex seemed lonelier than ever today. With Wally gone and no Team Flash of Earth-1 to crowd her workspace, Caitlin surmised that this room was actually pretty dull. There was no laughter, no high-fives, no stressed calculating, no sound of clicking keys or the squeak of the marker on the demonstration board. Even the colors were less than stylish to her, suddenly. I want to go home.

FWOOOSH!

Savitar, changed out of his costume and back in the dark clothes he usually wore, appeared in front of the winding white desk. He was carrying a bag of Big Belly Burger products, and there was ketchup on the thumb he popped into his mouth for the moment. No sign he had even been near a house fire today. He may not have had Barry's dedication to detail as the Flash, but he was very good at the civilian turnaround portion of the job.

Caitlin scowled at him. "Honestly, what is the point of calling me for help if you won't take my advice?"

Savitar's eyebrows jumped once, he leaned down to set his bag of food on her keyboard. "My speed. My way."

"You did get everyone out of the house, didn't you?" She had to check. After that scare he'd pulled on their first day here, she couldn't help it.

Savitar paused in his stretch to retrieve a few fries, tilting his head at her in a really? fashion. "Yes, Doctor Snow, I got everyone out. Even the cat." He pulled up his right sleeve, showing her a line of no-longer-bleeding scratches.

Caitlin winced for him. "Good. You know, when someone gives you an option that makes your job easier, you should actually consi—"

With a thud, there was a large cup in front of her.

"What is this?" Caitlin lifted it, surprised by the weight.

Savitar was finishing the burger now, making his way around the desk to the other chair. "Poison."

To counter his sarcasm, she tested this, taking a sip. Snow closed her eyes at the taste of it for a moment, then wiped her lower lip with a thumb, blinking at him in confusion. "You got me a milkshake?"

Savitar's eyes followed her thumb lazily. He spread his arms. "I had time."

"It's banana." Caitlin took another sip, delighted. But there was still bewilderment in her tone. "That's my—"

"Favorite?" When she gave him a look, he flicked the side of his head lightly, indicating his copied memories. His eyelids were lowered; there was a little smirk on his face, but she couldn't see any contempt in this one. It unnerved her.

Caitlin turned the cup in a circle, holding it from the top, manually stirring the shake without opening it. "Thank you," she mumbled awkwardly, going in for more.

Savitar didn't respond. He was just watching her drink.

"How's your shoulder?" Caitlin asked, setting the milkshake down with great reluctance. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. "Did any more stitches come undone?"

She opened the bag on the keyboard, reaching in for the french fries at the bottom. Upon retrieving one, she felt a slight breeze, a little jolt, and looked down at an empty hand halfway to her open mouth.

Savitar was chewing. "Nope," he responded, swallowing. He laced his fingers behind his head.

Caitlin decided not to entertain this anomaly—or his smugness—with a reaction and simply went for another fry. Maybe she'd dropped hers; benefit of the doubt. But the same thing happened: one second she was on her way to diabetes, and the next, no fry for her.

"That's very childish," she muttered, glancing at him. "And an abuse of your abilities." She wouldn't say anything more, he couldn't have the satisfaction. But she would have one fry. A sense of indignancy was rising up inside of her; just because he had super speed didn't mean he could antagonize with it and win.

The moment her hand touched the open bag, Savitar was up, standing over her, and then her hand was no longer touching the bag.

His scars were no less angry from this angle, and he held the bag full of food as if it weighed the same amount as a third grader's plastic ruler—with two fingers. His hair seemed cleaner up close, actually soft, the way Barry's usually did early in the morning. The nearer she was to him, the more human he seemed, and she struggled to remember a time where they had all been kept awake on Earth-1 by imagining that very face. He was just a man, with flesh the team could recognize.

She didn't think Barry had ever given her that exact expression, though. She didn't dare call it playful, because that didn't work for him, but it wasn't negative either. He leaned down, and she resisted the urge to roll backward in her chair. He wasn't frightening enough to keep her awake anymore, but there was something about seeing Barry with one damaged eye, half a face, and no smile that got to you after a while.

"Hands off my fries," he told her throatily, heading for the exit.

Caitlin took a moment to compose herself and called, "Where are you going?"

"Sleep." A flash of sickly yellow, and he was gone, taking the fries with him.

He didn't need fries to nap. Caitlin stood up, sighing. The Cortex was back to being empty. She glanced at the milkshake on the desk, and shut her eyes for a moment.

She'd forgotten to feed Heat Wave today.

Forgetting to feed a person being is not the same thing as forgetting to feed your Golden Retriever. Heat Wave, no matter what abilities he had, was still a human being, when you forgot to feed human beings, they became what Cisco referred to as 'hangry'. Animals didn't seem to get aggravated over a late lunch, just desperate to finally eat it.

Mick Rory was definitely hangry.

When she opened the hatch that allowed her to drop his lunch into the chute, he glared at her, and she thought he might actually be growling, but she didn't strain to hear it and make sure. His skin was beet red, but with the cuffs still firmly clamped around his wrists, changing colors was about all he could do. He grabbed the bag of Thai takeout rather clumsily; bound hands were not good for coordination, superhuman or not.

Rory didn't begin eating right away. Instead, he opened his hand deliberately and let the food crash to the floor. Yellow bean sauce began slowly leaking its way out of a small plastic cup. Caitlin, ignoring this silent tantrum, used one palm scanner to close the chute, reaching for the one that would bring down the metal barrier with the other.

"You're his pet doctor, huh, little lady?"

Caitlin began punching in the proper code; hesitation had logged her out of the scanner again. "I'm his personal physician. Eat."

Some of the sauce had stained Rory's hands; he pressed it to the glass, making even more of a mess. "Your friend's in over his head, physician."

She paused. On Team Flash, you learned when to stop and listen to the psychotic villain rant. In her experience it was all bravado and rage, but sometimes—if you asked the right questions—there could be valuable information to file away. And this sounded like the start of one of those rants.

Seeing her halt, Rory pressed his nose to the glass too, encouraged. "He thinks locking me up in here solves all those problems out there." He pointed, as if gesturing to the outside world. "He's got no idea. Super speed? He got one guy." Rory brandished his cuffed wrists. "Freakshow's not fast enough to lock us all up."

Caitlin tilted her head, but before she could ask what he meant, a thin voice from behind beat her to it.

"You're not paid to spill the beans, Rory."

She whirled around, heart climbing up her throat. Wide eyes, pale skin, high collar. Kyle Nimbus stood with his arms spread in the entry to Mick's pocket of the Pipeline, looking very rankled and impatient. Caitlin's hand flew to her bluetooth comms, but nothing was there. Heart in her mouth now. She'd left it in the Cortex.

"That's enough talking," The Mist went on, staring Heat Wave down. He started toward them.

Caitlin stood in his way, feet moving without her noticing. Everything was on autopilot. There was a primal hero's switch her brain had chosen to flick, and she knew what to do without focusing too much energy on it. Everything else was blind fear. She couldn't think of what else to do—she couldn't think of a plan to stabilize Nimbus.

But she could stall him.

"How did you get in here?" she demanded, though she was certain she already knew. That acrid scent before—that had been him, hiding.

Kyle's expression did not change. "Vents."

"What do you want?"

"Him." He nodded to Rory. "Boss's orders."

"Hurry up!" Rory snarled behind Caitlin. "I been dyin' to scratch my wrists." Metal scraping glass. "Can't do that when you're locked up in their fancy bracelets!"

Caitlin struggled to find something else to distract him with. Then, of course, the most obvious answer she needed slammed into her. "Why did you attack Clarissa Stein?"

This, the third and by far most random inquiry, seemed to confuse Nimbus, and his stare faltered for a moment. "Who?"

"Clarissa Stein," Caitlin repeated, voice growing stronger. She imagined the older woman, catatonic in a hospital bed, a sweet, intelligent Professor practically hopeless because of this careless man five feet from her. "Wife of Martin Stein—at a bistro you contaminated."

"I don't keep a record of people that choke on me," Kyle's eyes bore into Caitlin. "I was just following orders that night. Restaurant in panic? Check. Who's this?" he added, calling to Heat Wave.

So much for stalling him. Nimbus didn't seem interested in conversation—Caitlin got the feeling any more questions would receive either a one-word answer, or none at all. He was apparently short on time.

"It's the running man's mousy doctor girl," Rory growled. "Like you said, enough talking. Get a move on!"

"Is she important?" The Mist demanded, getting quieter and quieter.

Caitlin looked past Nimbus, over to the palm scanner, back to Nimbus.

"Not even a little bit," Rory replied, and she heard him grinning.

"That's all I needed to hear."

Caitlin didn't have time to suck in a last breath of clean air to hold. Kyle Nimbus disappeared in a cloud of green, a paler shade than she was used to on Earth-1, but obviously it was toxic either way. Everything around her became that particular green. Her eyes stung, her hands flailed. She had time to think, This is not sanitary, before uncontrollable coughing consumed her every working part. Her body was trying without fail to heave out the poison gas, whether it made her chest feel like a collapsible lawn chair or not.

Eyes streaming, she clutched the wall. Nimbus was back in human form, and he had her right wrist in one hand, wrenching her over to the palm scanner and placing her hand on the screen. Caitlin heard the whirring of Rory's cell doors being opened.

There was nothing she could do. She couldn't breathe. She sank to the floor, coughing and coughing, gasping for any oxygen that didn't taste like that, like death itself. Her left hand gripped desperately at her necklace, but her vision became cloudy, and her hand dropped. It was all she could do to remain conscious.

She felt Rory and Nimbus step over her.

"Leave her," Nimbus snapped. "She makes a nice warning for the shadow guy. This is what happens when you stick your nose where it doesn't belong."

There was a gravelly chuckle from Heat Wave, a flash of boots, and then they were gone.

Minutes dragged by, and Caitlin struggled to move from that one spot. Everything still looked green, and there were spots of light flashing in front of her gaze. She couldn't even hear herself gasping alarm couldn't have gone off; the Pipeline wasn't breached according to the system. It was her authorized scan that had released the metahuman.

But he found her anyway.

"Caitlin!"

When she heard her first name, in that voice, hoarse as it was, for a moment her exhausted brain tried to convince her she was back on Earth-1. It tried to convince her that Barry was the one lifting her off the ground, Barry was the one racing her down corridors faster than sound. But it was the black sleeves of Savitar's jacket when she turned her head, not Barry's warm S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt. He smelled like clean laundry, like the Cortex, but stronger.

That was her last real thought before the green seemed to expand, and everything faded out.

(So this one was shorter, please forgive me. Next chapter coming soon! Reviews are my very favorite thing besides pizza. -Doverstar)