A speedster should not be affected by allergies.

Because of his superhuman immune system, Savitar never expected to fall prey to what half the population succumbed to around this brisk time of year—the sniffles. But he felt his head getting stuffy that morning as he ran, on his way back to S.T.A.R. Labs after another manhunt for Rory or Nimbus with zero results. He'd stopped to thwart a few guys who had been harassing a young mother outside a supermarket, but other than that the day had been dull. He was tired of dull days. He was tired of the same routine—he wanted something to get started. Becoming a god had been such a tantalizing goal at one point; everything after that seemed a little lackluster.

It was hard to hide this embarrassing crack in his metahuman armor when he sneezed, without warning, loudly into his comms, passing Jitters and pulling some leaves off the trees through turbulence.

"Bless you," Caitlin commented, sounding a little far away from the mic. She was probably in the middle of some kind of tidying up in the still run-down Earth-66 Cortex and had heard it from across the room. Great.

Savitar ignored this and said, as if the sneeze hadn't happened, "What else you got?"

"...Nothing, according to what the scanners are picking up," Caitlin admitted after a moment. "Or—not picking up. Did you have any luck finding clues as to where Nimbus and Rory are hiding out?"

"If I did, they'd be in the Pipeline by now," Savitar grunted, breezing past the gate and onto the Labs' property.

"What if it's some kind of faux gang?"

"What?" he sighed, in the corridors now after racing through his room and donning his civilian clothes.

"They're all stirring up trouble. Lisa acted like they were one big group, following the same orders. You know, like a crime gang. She mentioned Rory and Nimbus, and from what she said it sounds like they all know you. Two out of the three have actually been in our facility. I'm starting to think we need to beef up security, just to be safe."

He sneezed again, coming to a stop behind her in the Cortex.

Caitlin turned around, spitting hair from her face in his wake. She was indeed tidying up; there was a rag and a bottle of cleaner in her hands. "Bless you."

"Stop." Savitar ordered, blinking a few times.

"I have some Claritin in the med bay," Caitlin offered, wiping down the glass demonstration board.

"I don't get sick," Savitar informed her, pulling on his jacket.

"Barry got a head cold a few weeks ago," she countered, glancing sharply at him over her shoulder. "If he's not immune, neither are you."

Savitar felt a familiar twist in his chest at the comparison. He crossed his arms. "If they're taking orders from someone, that's who I need to be looking for," he growled, back on topic. "Not the lackeys."

"No, you need to find the metahumans who know where you live first," Caitlin argued. "They could launch an attack here at any moment, and we can't take that chance. You can't stop anyone if they pull your base down around you. If you're not sick, " she used her fingers to make quotations in the air, "you should be out there trying to catch them."

Savitar shook his head. "I've looked everywhere in this city ten times over. I want a break."

Caitlin set the glass cleaner down harder than she needed to on the white winding desk. "Fine. And while you're taking a break, I guess I'll call Cisco and figure out how to put this version of S.T.A.R. Labs on lockdown. Maybe then I can keep history from repeating itself—alone."

The speedster stiffened, head tilted back, making an exaggerated ahh of surprise in one breath. "That's why you want me to go after them." His voice became quiet; he pointed at her, eyelids lowered. "You're afraid the Mist is gonna come back and finish the job."

She threw the rag next to the bottle of cleaner, glowering at him. "Of course I am! I can still taste the gas, Savitar. I'm not invincible. I get scared, and—if he and Rory both have the freedom to just waltz in here—"

"I said I was gonna find them," Savitar spoke over her, narrowing his eyes. "Didn't I promise?"

Caitlin looked apologetic, just for a moment, and stammered a bit before finally saying, "Yes. I know. But so far..."

He sneered at her as she launched into some kind of detailed explanation, to do with getting sidetracked and not having enough resources. She wasn't listening and clearly she wasn't trusting him to keep his word. Didn't she know that searching for the two goons was all he did when he wasn't out playing hero? Barry's face and she still couldn't quite look at him as if he were solid yet. Saved her from death by suffocation and all she was doing was bossing him. Again. He'd said she was safe at S.T.A.R. Labs, and she was. Hadn't he proved it? But it was the same problem as always. A suit and a chat on a gurney was nothing, it wouldn't make her see him.

"You want me to go back out and look again? Sure. Maybe they're hunkered down under the counter at Jitters." He drew his arms in, mimicking a hunkered down position. Straightening, he snapped his fingers, walking backward toward the exit. "Or hey, I forgot to check the bathrooms at the police station, bet you that's where they're hiding."

Caitlin's arms swung slightly, loose at her sides. She tilted her head, exasperated. "The satire is getting really old," she said quietly.

He cut the act, spreading his arms. "I told you I was gonna keep you safe." He raised his eyebrows, halting, encompassing his face with a pointing finger. "But I guess we both forgot who you were talking to."

"That is not—"

But he'd already left the room, kicking up papers in his wake, the rag tumbling to the floor.

Savitar ran through the city until it was dark, checking and rechecking all the shady, obscure places he could think of that might be hiding two metas. He'd switched off his comms—he didn't need Caitlin in his ear right now. She had a tracker on his suit, he knew, but it was satisfying to think that even if she could see where he was, she wouldn't be able to prattle on and on while he went. It was easy to let everything blur away when he was running. It wasn't like running in the Speed Force, where everything was trained on him and turned against him. Out here, he was moving too quickly for people to bother him, too quickly to take in any real details if he didn't want to.

But running didn't pull him out of his own head. It was like being in the shower—you had so much time to think, uninterrupted, that your mind went all-out in several different directions at once.

She stayed with him while he slept. She patched him up when he received injuries. She directed him on missions. Caitlin Snow did everything for him that she did for his counterpart—for Barry. Everything but trust him.

WHOOSH. He was in, up, down, through, and out of the CCPD. No metas.

He hadn't wanted her trust. He hadn't wanted her help or her time or her efforts, but she gave them anyway. More often than not, he felt he still that way. He didn't need any of it. But once he had it, it was surprisingly difficult to imagine going back to doing things solo. It had only been about a month, give or take a few extra days, of living on Earth-66 with the flustered bio-engineer, but already he was adapting to it, becoming used to it. Used to her voice on the comms, used to seeing her when he passed the Cortex, used to smelling her mild perfume in the corridors.

Now, slowly gaining everything Barry had once had in a friendship with Caitlin for himself, Savitar was acutely aware of the element that was missing—he could feel the lack of trust. Her fears today proved it.

While she had been unconscious from the poison gas, he had taken a look at the video footage from the Pipeline. She had reached for her comms when Nimbus had approached, he noticed—she had been trying to signal him, but in a pathetic, albeit rare moment of humanity, she had left them in the Cortex and forgotten them. That was what she expected. She expected him to rescue her. Didn't that show trust?

He couldn't tell anymore. And it irritated him that it suddenly mattered, whether or not she viewed him with that credence, that faith. She trusted the Flash with her life. Why was it such a far jump to trust Savitar?

The warehouses on the edges of downtown were empty. Completely empty, save a few cockroaches, crates, and broken umbrellas. Back into the city.

Suddenly he wanted coffee. His head hurt, he felt cold. A hot, steaming drink sounded pretty satisfying. But he couldn't very well step right into Jitters the way he used to. Not with the scars caking one side of his face. It wasn't as though disfigured people weren't accepted into society—but he was more than just disfigured, and that wasn't self-pity talking. He was frightening to look at, he was scary. At first he'd relished it. It matched him, those scars, it matched what he'd become. It overlapped anything that might still look like sweet little Barry Allen, replacing that countenance with something more sinister, with the dripping anger he felt day in and day out.

But now that he was supposed to be different—now that he was trying to turn things over, make them better for himself, the scars were starting to actually hurt in a way they hadn't hurt before. Not physical pain, obviously. He didn't want them there, not anymore. He couldn't start a new life if he couldn't even walk down the street without someone staring, then looking away in poorly-disguised horror. They still matched him—sort of—but he was beginning to resent the matching. This was a new feeling, and he wasn't sure he appreciated it.

A car alarm in the mall parking lot. The thief was tied with a bike lock to the handle of the SUV in seconds, blinking around in confusion. Savitar raced out of the lot and took a left down the nearest street.

And Caitlin, why did Caitlin's opinion, her trust, matter so much to him now? Why did he even care? Caring was nothing but a waste in his experience. It never ended well. He couldn't remember—in his existence, not Barry's—when he had last cared about someone, something, in a way that was positive. In a way that produced something fruitful.

The last time he had cared about anything deeply was when Team Flash had turned their backs on him. The care had eaten him alive, turning him into the shard he was now. Only a negative repercussion.

After that...nothing.

He had, in a way, cared about becoming a god—but not the same kind of care, never as strong as the one that had to do with people. Becoming a god was about stopping the constant, plucking spasms of pain and emptiness that gnawed and ripped at him. But he hadn't reached his goal, so that care, too, had been wasted.

Caring about his family and friends abandoning him—that was focusing on himself and his own heartache and the unfair blow life had dealt him.

Caring about becoming a god—that was a desperation to end his own suffering. Still all him.

Caring about Caitlin, her opinion, her feelings, her—that was blindingly different.

He wasn't sure where he was now. There was a clothing store open to his right, a man eating french fries beside a stoplight up ahead. Still in Central City, a billboard above told him. He'd been running for hours.

For human beings, there are really just two ways to care. One was that you turned your attention and your heart and your considerations on a thing or person, and you attached it there in a way that could not be undone without some irreversible change happening in you after it was all over. The other was that you protected, defended, looked after that thing or person with the utmost devotion, and the result was that you never actually stopped caring from that moment forward, whether the feeling was negative or positive in the end.

Savitar had cared about himself—his suffering and his loneliness, and then his plan to become a god—using the first definition of the word. But the way he was beginning to care about Caitlin Snow was undoubtedly the second definition, and, putting it simply for once, it bothered him.

Ultimately, to care was to connect with importance. There was a selfish way to do this and a selfless way to to this. Caring is never, ever easy. Once you cared, things got hard.

Savitar cared what she thought of him, how she saw him. Suddenly he cared whether she lived or died, a certain meta had made that clear to him. He cared what she liked and disliked, he cared about her expressions and her comfort and her trust. He'd both locked his attention on her, and—recently—had begun to look after her.

None of it was too much deeper than a kiddie pool just yet, but if today's spat was anything to go by, he might end up drowning.

The fact that it mattered to him at all was unexpected. Nothing had mattered for a very long time, nothing but him and his plans and his pain. Until now.

So: why did he even care?

Because Caitlin was the only one who had volunteered to help him further than just tossing him into the nearest Barry-less Earth? Because she was useful? Because he owed her for all the stitches and bandages? Because her eyes were brown and she scrunched her nose when she was confused? Because she cared about him first?

Whatever the reason, one thing was inescapable—caring is a choice. You have to first choose to care about anything.

Savitar had chosen to care about Caitlin, somewhere along the way. Even if it was small to start out with. And he got the feeling that trying to turn it off would only get more difficult as time went on.

This was pointless. It was nearly 8 PM, and no sign of the pyro or the undead convict. He would go back to S.T.A.R. Labs to try and sleep and continue the search tomorrow. Caitlin could rest easy, knowing he was wearing out the material in his suit's boots scanning the city.

When he stopped in the corridors, giving his legs a break to walk the next few yards to his room, Savitar heard an eerie wshhhh, a kind of vacuuming sound coming from around the corner.

Caitlin's room.

He used his speed; it was helpful that her door was wide open, so he didn't have to break anything getting in. Everything was organized, from the clothes folded on the cot to the pens all facing up in the coffee mug on the single metal table in the corner. It was a copy of his room, only neater, fuller.

And there was also the added difference of a tear in the cloth of the universe swirling in the corner.

Savitar's tensed body, ready for some kind of enemy, sagged and relaxed. His arms swung limply at his sides and he dropped his head back, side-eyeing the breach as if it were the cat that had knocked over the broom and forced him to come running.

It drained in on itself a moment after he came into the room, disappearing altogether. Savitar looked at the fully made bed, the lack of the duffel bag Caitlin had dragged here with her.

I guess Ramon finished his little project. She was gone. Savitar stood there a moment longer, perplexed to find that he could feel the difference in the building without her. Something was darker, the shadows looked deeper. She didn't warn him she'd been called away. She didn't say when she'd be back. Right. He'd switched off the comms. Fair was fair.

Savitar exhaled through his nose, not really a sigh. He didn't need a goodbye. And nothing was exciting about loitering in a bedroom that wasn't his. He turned and left, stifling a sneeze that wouldn't have gotten a bless you even if he had let it go.

Stepping through a breach was cold and it made you nauseous. Your body was moving, just for a moment, into a space that was essentially nothing. No air, no sound, no smells or colors, just blinding white and a sucking feeling in your gut.

Then it was over, and you were back in an actual atmosphere, but the feeling wasn't something you ever got used to.

Cisco had called Caitlin just as the sun was setting on Earth-66. "It took me like five days, but it's finally done. Bad timing?"

Caitlin had hesitated. She never did anything without thinking it over. There was no reason she shouldn't go and retrieve the devices they needed, and she was longing to see her family. That, and the fact that Savitar had blatantly discredited her fears and accused her of having shallow judgement in one breath made for a compelling argument to go ahead and leave for a bit. She was the one who needed a break.

"No, Cisco, today is perfect. Thank you."

She could practically hear him pumping a fist in excitement over the walkie-talkie. "Sweet, yes! Yes. Okay, I'll fire up the Gauntlets. One sec."

Savitar still hadn't come back from his mopey mission when nighttime had officially arrived and Caitlin was fully packed. He'd switched off his comms, which did nothing to improve her mood regarding him at the moment, so she couldn't actually inform him that she was leaving until he returned. Another twenty minutes passed, and no sign of the former God of Speed. The breach appeared in one corner of her room, just as she had requested, and with a final glance around, a cocking of the head in case she heard a whoosh of entry from the speedster, she'd stepped out of Earth-66.

Caitlin smelled Earth-1's S.T.A.R. Labs basement before her eyes adjusted to the light. It smelled a little musty, almost too clean, like a hotel lobby. She felt the temperature move from the 75 degrees her Earth-66 room had been to the 40 degrees the breach room was kept at. She heard Cisco closing the portal and the click of his Gauntlets as he lowered his hand. She also heard him shout breathlessly, "Guys, she's back!" and then there were many footsteps getting louder, coming her way.

But she wasn't home until someone hugged her. It could have been any of them embracing her to make her feel secure and content, but this one was distinct because of the incredible bone-crushing tightness that came with it. There was a flash of yellow-gold light and she was finding it very difficult to breathe.

"Barry—" Caitlin coughed out, "—I-I think you just fractured one of my—ribs—"

The Flash's grip relaxed just a little, but he didn't let go. "Hi, Cait." His voice was dipped downward and strained.

Caitlin sucked in precious air, hugging him back, then pulling out of it so that she could see his face. It was like the past month had been a dream of some kind, and looking at him woke her up. No scars, no blue eye, lighter hair, zero scowl. Eyes full of heat and hope and kindness. Big, closed smile that filled his entire body.

"Hi," she replied, beaming.

Barry was nudged playfully out of her line of sight and Cisco took his place, chiding, "All right, all right, save some love for the rest of us, thank you. Move."

Cisco's grip was warmer than Barry's, much looser, probably because he was tired as usual from opening a breach. "Missed you," he said quietly, and she could hear his grin over her shoulder.

Caitlin sighed, finally at ease. She'd been craving a Cisco hug. "Have I ever told you how much I love your inhuman ability to open holes in the fabric of the multiverse?"

"Not enough, please continue."

Joe's hey was long and riding on a chuckle, and Wally smelled like a fresh shower when he put both arms around her. Iris was dressed a little more casually today than usual—hence she wasn't wearing heels—and she rubbed Caitlin's back in her hug, up and down, comforting as ever.

Caitlin only had to glance at Barry to thank him for hoisting up the duffel bag she'd let go of when the greetings had begun. "You have no idea how good it is to see all of you," she breathed, smoothing the wrinkles from her top by pulling the hem down farther.

"It's great to have you home," Barry replied, speaking for all of them as was the norm, and they all wore matching smiles at that.

They took their time leading her back to the Cortex, the Cortex she was used to, the one that was well-lit and mostly tidy, filling her in on anything important that had happened while she was gone.

They had stopped a new meta Cisco referred to as the Wooden Man, and Caitlin politely declined a trip to the Pipeline to get a look at him. Apart from that, Wally assured her, it had been pretty quiet without Savitar to terrorize them all. He had missed one or two classes because of his moonlighting as Kid Flash, which Joe had already lectured him over, as Caitlin learned while walking with the group through the corridors. Barry had, obviously, recovered from his head cold a while ago, but he told Caitlin that the Benadryl actually slowed him down about three paces when speeding through the city, due to the side effects of drowsiness despite his superhuman system. Cisco had heard from Gypsy three days ago, something about traveling to an Arctic universe in search of a rogue drug dealer from Earth-19, and unfortunately she couldn't find time to visit Earth-1 on this little escapade, much to Cisco's disappointment. Iris and Barry hadn't had time to find a venue for their reception, and Iris wanted Caitlin's opinion on a cake flavor—because any time she asked Barry, he was too hungry due to his unusual metabolism and liked every suggestion she made, so he was no help. Joe had taken Cecile on their first ritzy date that weekend and was already planning the next one, though he swore his bank account was wailing at him for it.

All in all, life had been running on their same normal-not-normal treadmill for the past month, minus one member of the team or no.

An hour later, Caitlin was seated on the winding white desk—not in her chair behind it, a testament to how much more comfortable she was here—and everyone was talking at once, cutting in on one another's stories, asking her questions, making her laugh, when Joe waved both arms, silencing everyone.

"I got an idea," Joe announced, leaving one hand raised. "How's about we go get some pizza?"

Barry took one half-step toward the exit, but Joe slapped an arm to his chest, barring his path.

"Let's actually go and get some pizza," Joe explained, raising his eyebrows. "Everybody."

"As in, like..." Barry exchanged an affronted look with Wally. "Carpool?" Wally winced sympathetically, as if someone had just insulted his older brother in front of him.

"Yeah, carpool." Joe tilted his head in an admonishing fashion that told them not to question their elder. "Eatin' at a restaurant? You know, somewhere you go and you sit in a real chair and a tired waitress takes your order and there's a table somewhere in there? 'Member that?"

"What exactly are you suggesting, Detective?" Cisco demanded in a warning tone.

"Famulari's." West jabbed a thumb backward, to indicate the pizzeria downtown.

Cisco brought steepled hands up to his mouth, gasping exaggeratedly. "Adopt me."

Joe gave him a look that said get in line.

Iris glanced at Doctor Snow jovially. "Yeah, what do you say, Caitlin? Are you hungry?"

Caitlin's cheeks hurt, she'd been smiling so much. "As a matter of fact, I am."

"Shotgun," Barry called out, resigned. But Wally had said it at the same time.

The two speedsters sized one another up.

"Race you for it," Wally offered.

"You're on."

Restaurants become brighter by default when you have to pull two tables together. That's when you know you won't be doing much eating, that you'll have fun during dinner.

Famulari's had wooden walls that were painted grass-in-the-sunshine green and seats that were cream-colored. The tablecloths were black and white picnic patterns, rather than the cliched red and white. The dulled, scarlet tiled floors made up for that, though. The smell of mozzarella, fresh-baked bread, and warm, bubbling tomato sauce hung moist in the air as the group walked in, and while Joe and Barry moved the tables together, Wally and Cisco made a beeline for the buffet.

Iris sat across from Caitlin as they each took their seats, meandering from the buffet to the table and back periodically. "So—how's life on the...other side of the tracks?" she asked.

Caitlin's eyes widened briefly to allude to stress. "It's...been better." She screwed up her face, thinking about that for a second. Then she backtracked, "Actually, I think right now is better. Better than it was when we got there, I mean."

Iris placed her napkin in her lap. "What do you mean?"

"Savitar—he can be tricky to get along with," Caitlin began.

Cisco sat down beside her, plate piled with three different kinds of pizza. "I've heard that about crazy people," he said sympathetically.

"He isn't crazy," Caitlin objected.

Joe's eyebrows rose as he reached for the red pepper flakes. "You defending him now?"

Wally was using his speed to subtly keep Cisco from the parmesan cheese. He would let it sit long enough that Vibe would be lulled into a false sense of security, and just when Cisco's fingertips brushed the container, Wally suddenly had it, shaking the powdered cheddar glory slowly and innocently over his own supper.

But Kid Flash looked up at his father's question, distracted from this game, narrowing his eyes at Caitlin. "He broke my leg and tried to kill Iris."

"And become a god," Cisco added, eyes on the parmesan with the same grim look of determination he wore when he'd confronted Hartley Rathaway two years ago.

Iris waved her hands. "Let the woman talk, guys."

Caitlin dipped her head to Iris gratefully. "I'm not—not necessarily excusing anything that happened. But he is trying to start a new life, and I can also confirm that he doesn't show any signs of being clinically insane." She shot Cisco a pointed look. "He's just...stubborn, is all. He does things differently than Barry."

"Hmm?" Barry took his seat beside Iris, carrying more pizza than Cisco by about twelve slices. "I heard my name."

"Caitlin was just telling us about how things are going with Savitar," Iris explained, plucking a pepperoni off of one of his slices.

To Caitlin's interest and slight concern, Barry's face seemed to darken almost instantly. Some of the light whisked out of his gaze as he glanced at her, waiting.

"He's settling into being Central City's savior pretty well," Caitlin went on, clearing her throat. "I-I mean—aside from those times I have to keep him from beating someone to a bloody pulp..."

Barry's fingers tightened on the edge of his plate. Caitlin's eyes flicked to the movement subconsciously, but no one else was watching him; all eyes were on her. Whatever else you could say about her unorthodox group of friends, they were considerate listeners. Experts, really.

"And he doesn't quite have your..." Caitlin pursed her lips, looking for the right word. "Charms as the Flash."

Barry's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "Charms?"

"You mean when he makes those lame quips at all the baddies he fights?" Wally asked.

Joe gestured with a point, swallowing a sip of lemonade. "Or how 'bout when he actually signed a piece of metal from that car crash and gave it to one of the kids involved?"

"Or that big cheesy smile he always has when he comes back to the Cortex after he's done saving the day, like he's on some kind of 90's TV series?" Iris added.

Barry was looking between everyone as they spoke with an indignant expression. It turned to wounded at Iris' tone and he glowered at her.

Iris noticed and quickly submitted "No, no, it's cute! You're cute!" and Caitlin tried not to sputter into her drink.

Barry shook his head, just barely, at all of them, head sunk beneath his shoulders like a turtle. "Okay, I am not like that."

"Don't be modest, bro, you're adorable," Cisco admonished. He had finally snagged the parmesan cheese and was taking his own sweet time using it, eyes on Wally. Joe was silently chuckling at the end of the table, watching them.

"Right," Caitlin grinned, bringing it back on topic. "Savitar has none of it. It's hard to get him to really...care, sometimes, I guess."

"About what?" Barry asked, voice low.

Caitlin glanced at him, replying a little reluctantly, "About anything." She almost said it as if it were a question. Barry's eyebrows knit, and Caitlin wanted to ask him what he thought, how he felt, only his fiancee spoke up before she could.

"But you said things were getting better," Iris reminded her, looking puzzled.

"They are," Snow assured her, sitting up a little straighter. "I mean, he saved my life, so that has to be a good sign, right? And—he could have gone after Rory, at the EXPO, but he didn't, he saved Wally. That version of Wally," she clarified, glancing at a nodding youngest West. "He's trying. I've seen that."

"He can try all he wants. No hero's getting far without a team to back him up," Joe informed them between bites. "I don't care if he's a god or not."

"He's not," Barry muttered. His shoulders seemed tenser than they had been a moment ago.

"It's gonna be hard getting anybody to back him when he's got a face like something out of a Goosebumps cover," Cisco grunted, chewing. "I'm not playing, okay, he just literally looks evil." He mimed with a clawed hand in the air around the left side of his own face. Wally was grinning at him.

Caitlin nodded to him quickly. "And that's one of the reasons I came here," she added. "Not that I didn't really want to come home," she went on, offering them all a fond smile, "but not only do we need something to pacify the Mist's poison, we were hoping there was something here we could use to—"

"Fix his condition?" Cisco finished, making a face.

Caitlin lowered her eyelids. "Yes."

Cisco wiped his mouth with a napkin, waiting a moment before responding. He grew more serious, and his eyebrows came down low. "I can't...erase the scars," he admitted. "Those aren't going away permanently, okay, that's some futuristic, time-loop crap I can't mess with. But I was thinking about it. After we played chess," he added, looking over at Caitlin. "And I drew up some plans—some stuff I was working on with H.R.'s transmogrifier thing. Y'know, the light refractor?"

Caitlin brightened. "What kind of plans?"

"They're in the car—" Cisco scooted his chair out, but Caitlin hopped up, energetic suddenly.

Science. Technology. Working in tandem with Cisco. This was her element. "I'll get it. I wanted to put my purse away anyway." Joe tossed her the keys, getting up to revisit the buffet. Wally joined him.

Caitlin made her way out to the parking lot. Something about the air out here—it even smelled more familiar than Earth-66. Maybe she was biased, just convincing herself that every aspect of this dimension was better. But it was there, and she was content to drink it in as much as she could for now. She unlocked the car, rooting around through the backseat for Cisco's iPad, which was what he usually kept all his blueprints and random notes on.

When she got out, locking the van again and turning back toward the pizzeria, she was surprised to find someone watching her.

"Barry?" Caitlin cocked her head, nose scrunching up. "What are you doing?"

Barry was leaning against a pillar outside Famulari's, hands in his pockets. His green eyes were dull, telling her he was zoning out, lost in thought. He stood up straighter when she faced him, one set of fingers jumping to his hair. "I...was just—"

"I found it," Caitlin assured him. He'd wanted to help her look for the iPad. He was always helping.

Barry glanced down at the device in her hands, blinking. "Oh, good. Yeah."

"Come on. Let's see what Cisco's been tinkering with now."

Silent, Barry followed close behind her as she went back inside, rejoining their family at that long table.

Caitlin was on Cloud Nine, in a way, for the next two and a half days. Waking up in her own apartment, in her own bed, going to the right Jitters in the morning, the Jitters she'd been wishing she would see every time she opened the door to the one on Earth-66. Researching the properties of the transmogrifier with Cisco, in her S.T.A.R. Labs all day. Eating from the Big Belly Burger in the mall, not from one downtown somewhere the way it was on the 'other side of the tracks' as Iris had referred to it. Wearing the clothes she'd left on this Earth. Most of all, though, it was seeing the faces she'd left behind that really made her giddy.

She must have laughed a little longer than usual at one of Cisco's ridiculous puns on the first afternoon, because he raised his eyebrows over his clipboard and said, "Dang, girl, you gonna be okay? What're they doing to you on that other Earth, making you watch Titanic all day?"

How could she explain that she was just delighted to be home? She couldn't do the feeling justice.

Cisco had modified the transmogrifier in a way she would never have thought of. It was, of course, brilliant. "So it used to project somebody else's face onto yours, right? Well, we don't want it to project somebody else. We just want it to make all the general nasty disappear. So I souped it up. Little did you know..." He began rolling up his shirt.

Caitlin held up a hand, wincing. "Cisco, no one needs to see your stomach unless it's an emergency."

He gave her an insulted look. "Little did you know that the sight of my stomach is a privilege, not a right, Caitlin, thank you for interrupting me," he finished hurriedly, scowling.

Caitlin shook her head hard. "Just. Please."

"Fine, little did you actually know, I've got a few scars of my own. Check this out." Cisco brandished a long, thin white scar just beneath his belly button, and his glance told her she should be impressed, or at the very least sympathetic. She was neither.

"Where did you get that?" Caitlin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Dante," Cisco seemed reluctant to explain, voice taking on a slightly hushed tone, the way it always did when he mentioned his late brother. "When I was like ten he pushed me out of a tree and I landed on a picket fence." When she gave him an inquisitive stare, he added, "We were trying to bust out of the backyard, parents were in a meeting. Not a good day, anyway..."

He held up the transmogrifier, shining it on the scar. It wafted away, as if someone had blown on it the way you blow on sand or eraser dust.

Caitlin's eyes bulged. "It's gone?"

Cisco held up a finger. "No. Not gone. It scans your skin, your cells, and it codes together what that part of your body would look like originally. Without any damage, just plain. Not even a tan." He paused. "Which could make this really fun at parties."

"So it's still there," Caitlin murmured, unsure if she was disappointed or not. If there was any disappointment, it would be for Savitar's sake.

"Well, yeah," Cisco admitted, looking a little miffed she was finding fault with his genius. "But it's like you're hiding it. I told you, I can't do anything to heal Savitar's jacked-up face. And this is just a mini scar, from like twelve years ago." He flashed the transmogrifier back onto the spot, and the scar reappeared. "I can't promise it's gonna be strong enough to have the same affect on what he's got goin' on. But it's definitely gonna be better. Guaranteed."

Caitlin accepted his low high five and took the transmogrifier, examining it. "Thank you, Cisco. This is a big help."

"Don't thank me." He turned and went back to his worktable, flapping a hand at her good-naturedly. "I don't want my name on it or anything. I still don't think the guy deserves any of this."

"What about something to counteract the Mist?"

"Patience, young Padawan."

"You said it was finished!"

"Slow your role! Finishing touches are very important."

The banter in the engineering wing, the laughter in the Cortex, the early mornings at Jitters and the group text when she got home at night—Caitlin hadn't known how much she needed all of it until she'd left. The thought of returning to Earth-66 that evening was daunting to say the least. But she intended to enjoy it, to soak it all in, right until the last second. Being with the people she loved, somewhere fully familiar, was bliss, and she wasn't about to waste it.

There was one thing that was starting to trouble her, though, being back on Earth-1.

Barry.

Caitlin hadn't noticed it right away, but gradually, by the time her second morning back was half over, she had begun to suspect something was off with Barry. His behavior had transformed from helpful best friend to that of a very loyal collie. On missions, if he needed them to direct him, he would ask specifically for Caitlin to take over his comms, leaving Cisco Kid Flash's. Even when he didn't need directions, he would ask her questions about his surroundings, about the criminal, questions that were easily answered if he'd just use his eyes. It was like he was checking to make sure she was still in the Cortex with everyone else.

He walked her—or rather, ran her back to her apartment the first night, which wasn't too out of the ordinary. But when she went to close her bedroom curtains, after getting into her pajamas and brushing her teeth and generally preparing for bed, she had looked down and seen him there, in the street. Sitting on her front step on his phone. She'd turned her bedroom light back on and had gone to the front door, but upon opening it, she realized he'd left before she could come outside.

The next morning, he'd been the first to greet her when she came into S.T.A.R. Labs. Again, not too unusual for him, but then when she'd gone with Cisco to the engineering room to see the transmogrifier, and when she turned around, Barry was walking with them. She dismissed it as curiosity at first, but when Cisco had gone to get himself some lunch, Barry hadn't offered to run out and pick up the Chinese takeout for them. He'd stayed there in the room while Caitlin worked, drinking his coffee, asking a few questions. Not that she didn't love his company, but it wasn't normal for him, to be where he wasn't needed when he could be where he was. At the CCPD with Julian working a case, out as the Flash stopping crime. But he wasn't.

It was like that for the duration of her stay. She and Cisco would be working, and Barry would join them at random, until Joe or someone else would come looking for him. It was Caitlin telling him where to go when he was out in the field, while Cisco sat fully available beside her, albeit content to eat a few fries and just watch and listen for once. He offered to walk with her to Jitters all three mornings she was there—walk, not flash. And even on the days when he'd already had his coffee, he'd stay until she was finished there and take her back to S.T.A.R. Labs when she left.

Finally, when she was headed to the med bay to stock up on supplies for Earth-66—and a few of her favorite tools she hadn't expected to need—it was too much. She had enjoyed Barry's talk of Wally's recovery from Savitar's attack, nodding and reacting in the corridors, but once they actually reached the med bay and he stood back, leaning against the wall and watching her, Caitlin decided enough was enough. Maybe Savitar had rubbed off on her, because she spoke right over the tail of a story he was telling.

"...Joe was so mad, he thought Iris—"

"Barry, what are you doing?"

Barry's tale shuddered to a halt and he squinted at her, confused. "What—what do you mean, I'm..."

"You've been acting...different." Caitlin stood up, brushing the hair from her face.

"Different?"

"Mm hm."

"Different like how?"

"Like this." Caitlin glanced widely around the room, focusing back on him with arched eyebrows. "This, you. In the med bay. Aren't you supposed to be meeting Iris for lunch? But you're here. Or what about yesterday, in Cisco's workshop? Or last night, outside my apartment?"

Barry's head came up quickly at that.

"I saw you." Caitlin gave him a small, worried smile. "You don't need to be everywhere I go, but—and you can tell me, please, if I'm wrong—it feels a little like...you're following me."

Barry was nodding before she'd finished. When she had, he let out a short sigh from his noise, arms crossed over his dark red sweatshirt. "I guess I have been."

Caitlin blinked, unprepared for his agreement. "Why?"

Barry stood up straight, coming off the wall. "I just—I just feel...responsible."

Caitlin's shoulders sagged. She knew immediately what he was talking about. Of course. He always wanted to help. And he couldn't stand the thought that he—or any version of him—hadn't been there in time.

"Barry, you're not responsible for what happened with Kyle Nimbus."

He snorted, disregarding that. "But I was."

"No—"

"Yes, Cait, I'm responsible, I'm responsible for Savitar because he's me." Barry closed his eyes. "You could've died—"

"Listen, we have been through this—"

"You could've died and I wasn't there!" Barry raised his voice, talking over her, and it would've felt like Earth-66 if he hadn't sounded so upset. Savitar didn't usually use that much emotion in anything he said or did. As a result, Caitlin fell silent, letting him speak. "But he was. He could've done something to help you and he was late."

"Barry, he did do something to help me!" Caitlin burst out. She couldn't understand why everyone had disregarded Savitar's response to the situation. Were they so used to looking at him as a murderer that the thought of him saving a life instead was too much of a leap?

"By taking your necklace off?" Barry's voice got even more desperate to be understood. "You could've become Killer Frost. How is that better?"

She couldn't argue, of course, that becoming Killer Frost was the choice she'd make over death. She knew she would take death any day. But he wasn't hearing her.

"I didn't," she argued. "I'm still here. I'm me. And I'm only alive because Savitar—your time remnant—found me and brought me back. Saying that you are responsible for Savitar is taking credit for saving my life, Barry. Not for putting me in danger."

Barry's thumb traced patterns in the cables of his sweater as he kept his arms folded. He watched her as she spoke, and she saw him relax, bit by bit, at her words. It felt so refreshing to have a Barry Allen actually listening to her, all the tension drained from Caitlin too.

"When Iris told me what happened," Barry began quietly, "I don't know, I—I couldn't stop thinking about what it would've been like if you'd died there. On that Earth. A whole world away from us. It's what I was trying to tell you before you left, Cait, if—" He took a deep breath. "If something bad goes down over there and I can't do anything about it, I can't know that he will." His eyebrows bounced. "I can't. And it scares me."

After a moment of silence, a slow smile crept unbidden across Caitlin's face as she asked, suddenly seeing his logic, "So...you following me around like a puppy is going to keep that from happening?"

"Okay—" Barry started grinning then, too, looking away from her in an attempt to remain serious but failing in the end.

"Are you going to follow me to the other Earth, too?" Caitlin went on, encouraged, wanting to extract even more of his anxieties using his smile.

That smile stayed, but his tone was serious again as he said, "If that's what it takes, yeah. I want you to be safe, Cait."

Caitlin's expression matched his, so fond of her own personal superhero. She gave him a warm hug. "I missed you, Barry."

He hugged her back, breathing in slowly. "When are you coming home? For good."

"As soon as I know he's not alone without me," Caitlin told him, pulling away. "I can't leave if he's on his own. We've seen what you're like when you don't have people who care about you."

Barry's tense shoulders made a return then, and he cut in, "What's he been like?" nodding upward, once, to her. "For real. How's he treating you? How's he treating everybody?"

"Some days..." Caitlin bit her lip, thinking. She could never explain all of it. So she settled for, "Some days are better than others."

Barry sighed, turning toward the door, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know I said I wanted to get him some help, but not like this." He shook his head. "It's hard, seeing what you could be. Seeing the...the darker side of you. Hearing how different he is."

"Believe me," Caitlin grunted, ignoring the suddenly obvious glare from her snowflake pendant. "I know."

"Yeah. But you'll teach him how to fight it, Cait, I know you." Barry turned to offer her a reassuring smile this time. "Good thing we've both got someone who understands, huh?"

Caitlin forced a smile back. "Good thing," she murmured.

When it was time to leave, Caitlin had that same sense of dread she'd had when she was about to step through the breach for the first time, a month ago. She didn't want to do it. She wanted to stay, she never wanted to see another portal for as long as she lived. But she knew this was the right thing to do—and Caitlin Snow never did a job halfway.

After most of the hugs and the goodbyes had passed, and she stood with her back to the breach, duffel bag over one shoulder, Caitlin looked around. "Where's Cisco?"

"Right here!" Cisco hurried into the breach room, wearing what looked like a bronze backpack. "I had a few last-minute adjustments to make, but it's ready."

"What's ready?" Wally demanded.

Cisco reached backward and opened a small hatch in the backpack. He pulled out a long tube, a different kind of metal than the rest of the device. The end was coiled with some kind of blue padding, the same used in the Pipeline.

"This baby is a titanium-lined, power-dampening, Mist-containing—"

"It looks like a vacuum," Iris interrupted.

Cisco blinked a few times, clearly highly offended by this intrusion. "Chill, Iris, okay? You make the gadget, you make the presentation, whose is this?"

"It's yours," Iris sighed impatiently, obviously resisting an eye-roll.

"A+, yes, it is." Cisco scoffed. "Thank you."

Barry raised a hand sheepishly.

"My man."

The Flash squinted slightly, almost apologetic. "Is it a vacuum?" Wally snickered.

"It's a lot more than that, my friends," Cisco replied dramatically, brandishing the tube. "With this, when Nimbus goes full-on gas mode, you'll be able to pull him in and keep him sealed up in a controlled container that keeps him from morphing again until you stick him in the Pipeline." He patted the backpack portion of the device. "Before anybody goes breathing in the chemicals."

"Like anybody would be dumb enough to try that," Caitlin huffed, and Cisco smirked at her. "So, apart from the whole imprisonment part, it is a vacuum?" she checked. Joe gave her a grateful glance for the clarification.

Cisco, resigned, dropped the tube, eyes drifting to the ceiling as if praying for strength. He admitted, "Okay, yeah, it's kind of a tricked-out vacuum." Then, delighted to redeem himself, he added, "It sucks."

"Nope." Iris threw up her hands.

"I'm goin' back to work." Joe turned and feigned an exit.

"Come back, come on, I had to, it was right down center field!" Cisco whined, grinning.

Barry, laughing, turned to Caitlin to give her one last crushing hug. "You have to call me if anything happens," he whispered while the others were berating Cisco. "If you...suck in poison gas, if you're attacked walking to your car, if you stub your toe, I wanna be the first person you tell. Okay?"

Caitlin gave him a squeeze. "I promise. But Savitar's already proven he's looking out for me. You should at least try to trust him, Barry." She raised an eyebrow as they pulled apart. "Give him a chance. You know him best, right?"

"Yeah." Barry shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I mean it, though. If you don't call at least once a day, I will follow you over there." He stood up taller, folding his arms stubbornly. "Like a puppy."

Caitlin grinned. "Agreed."

She pulled on Cisco's vacuum gadget. It was lighter than she thought it would be, and cold against her back. What a sight she'd be, coming back through to Earth-66 with this strapped to her body.

This time, she forced herself not to take a second look backward before she stepped through.