(Author's Note: So I only made you wait a week this time, guys! Christmastime is upon us. Please don't hesitate to talk to me! It's much easier to believe people are really reading the story when I can read your thoughts about it, hear your voices, not just noticing a number of Follows or Favorites on the bottom of the fic's description. Thank you for being patient and kind, Jell-O Squares! Enjoy this one!)

Professor Martin Stein of Earth-66 had three more PhDs than Earth-1's Stein had. He'd won varied awards for his theories and papers and inventions, and had made more money with his scientific career, heading his own enterprise, than Caitlin or Savitar would make in two lifetimes. His vocabulary was 98% more evolved than that of anyone else's in the country, and his IQ rate was simply unfair, so we won't mention it.

But for all his smarts, all his formalities, when Caitlin showed him with fumbling hands the positive test results for Clarissa's cure, the man practically danced. There in the Cortex. The look on his face said he was strongly considering framing the test results and hanging them in various sizes and fonts on every wall in his home.

For a good twenty minutes, he couldn't seem to form words. The two of them had been testing the antidote against Nimbus' poison gas on and off for two weeks, over and over, factoring in every variable. They couldn't risk making Clarissa any worse with one wrong move; they had been dealing with something inhuman for so long, they had to be certain their science held up against it. Now, finally, it was finished. Everything was in place, everything appeared to work just fine.

They'd worked with a kind of test pair of corrupted lungs, using Nimbus' gas. It was really a simulation, much like the kind airplane pilots used in courts when weighing their options in the event of a crash. Stein had commissioned an employee at Hudson Industries to create the lungs—answering no questions, of course, as the public remained disbelieving when it came to a man who could become toxic air itself, therefore a curious subordinate would only get in his way. Once they'd set it up at S.T.A.R. Labs, Caitlin and Stein had been doing several calculations and making modifications each day to their antidote, releasing it into the simulation and watching what worked and what didn't.

And today they'd gotten it right. They'd gotten every inch of it perfectly right.

"It appears Thomas Jefferson was right. The harder we work, the more luck we've got." Stein was now in one of the seats behind the white winding desk, glasses in one hand, eyes damp. He looked again at the paper in his hand, mouth gaping. "Miss Snow," he announced, "I'm afraid I feel like celebrating."

Caitlin laughed, taking the goggles he passed her for cleaning. "I might be up for that."

"Of course," Stein cleared his throat, donning his spectacles once again, "we'll need quite a bit of pull with the hospital in order to get it past the lobby, never mind up to Clarissa's ward."

Caitlin shook her head. He was always thinking too logically, more than she ever had. In a moment of jubilation, he was focusing on yet another obstacle. "Professor, what matters right now is that we did it," she reminded him, hanging the goggles up. "We'll deal with that when we—"

FWOOSH!

Savitar had returned, full costume, from his daily Rory-scan of the city.

As he had been doing ever since he and the speedster had formally met, Stein stood upon the hero's entry. "Savitar," he greeted. His hands folded behind his back, but one still gripped the test results, as if afraid they might blow away if he let go.

"You're still here," Savitar sighed, looking Stein up and down. His hand moved up, as if to pinch the bridge of his nose, something Barry did when irritated. But at the last second, it dropped back down again.

"I am." Stein's smile was small, but genuine. He was in too good a mood to be put off by Savitar's exasperation. "I want to thank you," he said warmly.

Savitar's eyes were cold. "Thank me?"

"Wasn't it your idea to combat Nimbus' fatal substance with a—em—quote-unquote, gas of our own?" Stein held out the test results proudly, glancing at Caitlin. The bioengineer stood off to the side, hazel eyes bouncing from the professor to the would-be god. "It was just the right amount of risky to work, as it turns out."

Savitar took the paper and looked at it for about half a second. Caitlin hoped it wasn't disinterest, but merely his super speed reading they were witnessing. His eyes came back up to glower at Stein, almost lazily. "I wasn't doing it for you."

Caitlin stared at her feet, but not quickly enough to miss Stein glancing again at her, this time a little more briefly, a little more studiously. Savitar wasn't looking at her, but of course he didn't need to; she knew who he had done it for. It hadn't achieved his desired effect, though she would never tell him that. She had switched from losing sleep by trying to come up with a medium for the antidote—to losing sleep by testing the medium her friend had given her. Caitlin didn't mind—Cisco always called it being wrecked for a good cause. He, too, had missed his fair share of rest trying to save the world, whether it was working with the Flash or with Dr. Wells, pre-Barry.

"Whatever the reason," Stein went on, undeterred but a bit stiffer now, "as I've told our Miss Snow here several times—I find it remarkable that you opt to use your abilities to better Central City." His mouth tightened. "Instead of squandering it with petty crimes, like so many others. Thank you."

Savitar was quiet for a moment, just staring at Stein. His posture, which had been all wooden, slackened at the word better. He nodded, ever so slightly, and Caitlin thought she could gauge him well enough by now to assume that was his version of a 'you're welcome' to the professor.

But the moment was shattered when her phone rang.

Caitlin winced, then decided she didn't mind the interruption when she saw who was calling, heart jumping in excitement. "Wally?" she said into the cell, not bothering with a hello. "How's it going?"

It had been five days since she'd told Wally everything. Since she'd come to Mercury Labs with a plea for help he'd been all too prepared to answer as best he could. She'd told him who she really was—where she was really from, where Savitar was really from. He had swallowed the story of the true Flash without hesitation; he had something to base it on in the former God of Speed, of course. What with the metas on Earth-66, he seemed to believe in the multiverse a lot more easily than he would have without the particle accelerator's affects. This didn't mean he hadn't needed to take a moment to process. Several moments. Possibly two days, with frequent phone calls loaded with questions that had occurred to him at work, or while he was brushing his teeth, or while he was walking home. Wally West-66 had quite a bit more curiosity than his Earth-1 counterpart. The part of her tale Wally had really been struggling to take at first was that of Savitar's origin. He couldn't quite wrap his head around the time remnant reality, or the loop of Savitar's creation and end—how he created himself and helped to defeat himself, both in 2024, unwittingly. It was a lot to take in for anyone, whether you were a scientist or a grocery store clerk.

Once he'd accepted the truth, Caitlin had had to introduce Wally—via the very choppy Bluetooth device—to Cisco Ramon, who she swore up and down was, in fact, a genius, despite the Godfather references and the sound of Pop Rocks in his mouth as he'd spoken. But it was hard to dislike Cisco, and soon he and Wally were getting along just as easily as Kid Flash and Vibe did back home. They had been putting together blueprints for the machine when Wally was off of work, at Jitters with Caitlin or on break. Both boys were working hard and working fast, and Wally had not uttered a single complaint—he seemed to think this was minimal, compared to what Caitlin and Savitar had done and were doing for him.

Just in the past two days, Cisco had been coaching Wally down in the engineer wing of Earth-66's S.T.A.R. Labs, as he and Caitlin had planned, over the communicator. But whatever was interfering with the two worlds and the breaches was getting worse by the day, taking its toll on the multidimensional walkie-talkie, and it was more frustrating than it should have been for Wally to learn anything. Static and glitches in the Bluetooth's sound for hours on end was enough to make anyone throw a wrench into the wall—which Caitlin had promised did not need to be paid for or fixed any time soon. The whole place was still pretty run-down; one dented wall wouldn't matter much.

He was in the engineer's workshop now, and the frame of the portal was beginning to form, piece by piece, though Wally had heavy doubts than any of this would actually work.

"I'm just an intern," he'd confided to Caitlin yesterday, covered in grease and welts before heading home. "You need an old computer or something fixed up, or like—a car engine's freaking out on you—that stuff I can do. I'm not used to all…" he'd gestured weakly to the pile of metal and tools on the cement floor. "This."

But Caitlin had assured him he was capable. She and Cisco both never forgot to encourage him in their own ways while he was downstairs working, regaling him with stories of Kid Flash's greatest moments on Earth-1. Caitlin couldn't help wishing H.R. were there to do it himself; he'd always been best at "boosting Wallace's morale", as he'd put it.

Now Wally sounded a bit excited as he replied, "So the framework's basically done—it's massive, you gotta come see it!"

Caitlin glanced at Stein and Savitar. "Give me one minute, I'll be right down."

Stein was gathering his supplies as she hung up. "That sounded urgent," he chortled. "I'm guessing this is where I leave the area for the time being." Before Caitlin could apologize as usual, he held up a hand. "I'll be in your medical wing, preparing a sample." He smiled. "Someone has to properly prepare our masterpiece before we grace the local hospital."

Caitlin hugged him goodbye. It was one of the first embraces she'd given this version of Stein, but it seemed fitting today. Given their success, he didn't seem to mind. She wanted a bit of a longer farewell, maybe a chance to map out a little more of their next meeting—she felt nervous and flighty when there wasn't a set plan for every detail of a situation—but she could feel Savitar suddenly staring holes into the back of her head, so she refrained.

When Stein had gone, Caitlin turned to meet his stare.

"Wally needs you downstairs again," Savitar told her coolly, arms folded tight. All traces of a slackened, softer posture from Stein's words had evaporated. The look in his dual-colored eyes was hard.

Caitlin's mouth opened to reply, but nothing came out right away.

She hadn't told Savitar yet about Wally.

It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to—she just didn't know where to start, and it was too easy to put it off, working with Stein and trying to get back home. She wasn't sure why she hadn't let him know. It was only recently that Wally had actually moved to the basement of S.T.A.R. Labs to begin building; he was never there for more than four hours, and Savitar could easily fill that time outside in the world, looking for Rory. Just going for a run.

If Caitlin were being honest with herself, it was probably an intentional thing, avoiding the subject with him. She'd only had to direct missions for the speedster over the comms a few times during the past five days, and other than that he was always back late or out early. They'd seen each other since she'd gotten Wally on the job, of course. They were living under the same roof. But she'd never managed to bring it up with him, not all week. He hadn't reacted well to her helping Wally before, or Stein for that matter—and not being asked about building a portal back to Earth-1 with Earth-66's Kid Flash copy was definitely going to make him sore. She'd been putting it off, really.

And now it was backfiring on her. Of course it was. She could tell by the rock in his expression, the dullness of his voice. Because she was such a smart little bioengineer, but when it came to other human beings, did she ever really think?

Cautiously, she began with, "I meant to tell you sooner—"

Savitar shoved his hood off, shaking his head. He was walking out of the Cortex before she'd gotten the first three words out. Storming. Arms tight even as they swung at his sides, steps hard and quick, shoulders hunched, head straight.

It wasn't dignified, but she sped after him, trying to complete her explanation.

"Cisco came up with something we think might work," Caitlin went on, raising her voice as she came up behind him, struggling to match his pace. "But we needed an engineer—"

"Stop."

"We had to try something—"

"Stop saying we." Savitar finally quit walking, turning around so suddenly she almost smacked into him. Caitlin looked up at him, knowing the picture of Cisco's often-used my bad was written all over her face. She was mentally smacking herself for not learning from her mistakes, not telling him sooner. The speedster didn't seem to read it. "This was you. We is for teammates. You and I aren't a team, Caitlin." He moved a thumb between the two of them, words dropping into the air like building blocks.

Caitlin felt her fingernails digging into her palms. "Yes, we are."

"No." Savitar's head was shaking again. "No, because I remember Barry's team." He pressed a finger to the side of his head, talking quickly. "I don't get to have it, but I know it, and it doesn't work like this. Teammates make decisions together. Isn't that how it goes, Doctor Snow?"

He sounded so much like the Flash, if she closed her eyes, she was easily back on Earth-1. "You're right. Yes. You're right and I'm sorry, I should've told you right away—"

"You should've asked me," he snapped. The finger that pressed into his temple was now pointed angrily, generally, at the floor. "Before you brought him here for this. Did you think I wasn't going to hear him down there? Wasn't gonna see his car out back? I'm only supposed to be blind in one eye, Caitlin."

Caitlin threw her arms up in the air. "He was already here before; he's trying to get his father out of prison! What's wrong with bringing him back if he can help us, too?"

"Help you." Savitar licked his lips, almost smiling as he exhaled, but it was one of those exasperated, bitter smiles while he spoke, shifting in place. "Didn't I already tell you I'd run you back?"

Caught up in the argument now, tired of his attitude, she took a step nearer and let some flint slip into her voice. "And I told you, Barry already tried that. Wally already tried it, they're doing everything they can! Your speed—no one's speed—is gonna cut it, Savitar. I needed external help, and this Earth's Wally can do it!"

Savitar didn't seem to have a response ready. He wasn't waiting for her to finish so he could interject with more accusations. He simply glared down at her, mouth still open, head still shaking.

"Now, I am sorry that I didn't ask your opinion first," Caitlin went on, some of the fight dying out as she realized he was giving her space to talk. "And it means a lot to me that you want to contribute. But this is my problem to fix, not yours. You have to let me. Even if—even if I do something stupid, like…not telling you right away. Okay?" She reached out and put a hand on his arm when he began to turn and walk off.

True to his nature, Savitar stopped when she touched him, but he shut his eyes, almost as if he were bruised there and she was agitating it. He stood like that for a couple of heartbeats, clearly calming down a bit, then pulled easily away from her.

"I need a run."

Caitlin twisted him.

He'd needed a run, but in speedster language, what he'd said was that he needed to think. Without interruption.

She twisted him up inside, she made him so confused. He wasn't used to being confused; he was used to calling his own shots, being in control, god of his own world. She shook it all out like she was emptying a piggybank.

For Savitar, after having dismissed the memories including Caitlin that didn't belong to him, she'd simply started out as a means to an end. She was part of a group of people he'd vowed to contemn, a group that only mattered to him anymore because they were key to saving his life. Then she'd become an unwanted accessory on an unwanted journey into another Earth entirely. Someone to babysit him, to take monitoring his vitals to a new extreme. A temporary nanny.

Then she'd inhaled poison gas, and when she survived, she'd sat beside him and claimed him, without so many words, as her friend. Which was not part of the deal, not part of his governess image of her. It didn't fit the bossy bioengineer that fussed at him and was only helping him to make sure he didn't go back to the dark, try to take over the multiverse. Rather, it fit four years' worth of another man's memories in which a compassionate, awkward personal physician stitched him up inside and out, putting in time and effort to someone who really only made her life harder. It matched that evening after Nimbus' attack, as they'd sat on that gurney in the Cortex, putting a hand on his shoulder and making him something else, something to her. She couldn't have knocked him over more wholly if she'd hit him with a crane.

So he'd gone from planning to end them all, planning to murder Iris West and take Caitlin's identity from her—welcoming Killer Frost—to buying ice cream sandwiches and sitting there on Earth-66 while she lectured him. Sometimes twice a day. Was that all it took? She could wrinkle her nose—or smile—or roll her eyes—and he felt something that should've been ancient and forgotten crashing inside. Something that said he really had been the one to grow up in Joe's house and high five Cisco and get struck by lightning. Something that said Caitlin Snow had sung karaoke with him once and had played Operation with him and had remained by his side for four years of hero's work, despite losing two loves and gaining powers she'd never asked for.

He remembered so much of her that he could reference when they were together. Unfortunately, they were Barry's moments to call up. Savitar could only base any interaction he had with Caitlin on the experiences they'd had thus far—on Earth-66. No bar diving, no quite the pair, no long conversations about losing his mother or losing her fiancée.

And what he had to go on here was very little—they were friends. She cared about him, she'd said. She trusted him. They were a team.

But even in the timeline that had been erased—the one where he managed to end Iris and recruit Killer Frost—being a team meant communicating. How was he supposed to feel and act when she turned things topsy-turvy? Changed the rules to suit herself?

If she did trust him, if they were friends, like he—like Barry and Caitlin had once been, he should have heard about her plans to get back to Earth-1 before Wally had. She didn't want his help. It was almost as if she'd forgotten he was even an option, forgotten he was there to ask. He couldn't run her through the multiverse? Well! Then he was as useful and relevant as a pocketknife was in a swordfight. Stick him in a corner, on a wild goose chase after a pyro. We won't be needing the speedster anymore, not for this, not right now.

She was so determined to go back to Earth-1. It made his head ache, thinking of it. The steel surrounding her when she was talking about it, the more frequent frowning. It was distracting, seeing her quietly concerned when nothing else was going on, in the moments where she was just sitting there, staring into space. It was irritating. Recently it seemed Caitlin was already another world away in her own mind. He knew her strengths, he knew her weaknesses. She loved to worry.

Caitlin had come with him here, to this echo of what the two of them knew best, and had slowly unraveled him. Everything he'd become since 2024, she had grabbed one string and just pulled and pulled—somehow she'd done it without moving, it seemed—and now he was frayed all over. She was getting too caught up to see it, caught up running after Stein and constantly patting Wally on the back. She was blind to her own handiwork.

Because of Caitlin Snow, Savitar had become so much thicker, so much more colored, he didn't know how to carry it when she wasn't in the room. He felt it, felt the more Barry Allen side being tugged and coaxed back into him, when he was sure he'd banished it eons ago. And when she was there, his old teammate, his new companion, it was as if she'd poured gasoline on the flame. She gave the colors somewhere to go. He didn't need Stein or West or Thawne there, they didn't do anything like that for him. It was an I'm screwed slap in the face. Because he wanted her there.

When Caitlin was there, Savitar felt he could breathe better. However frustrating she could be, however easy it was to argue with her.

And now she wanted to take that freedom, that feeling of breathing easily, with her. All the way back to Earth-1. How could he complain? She'd turned him into something different—someone who, he was slowly realizing, would be far too good and noble to complain if this went on much longer.

There was nothing he could do about it. How could he get her to stay, just him? There was no way. She hadn't needed to be Frost to defeat him. Being Snow was dangerous enough.

Eddie Thawne seemed undaunted by the Cortex when he arrived to debrief the speedster that day.

This could've been because the CCPD—before it had been burnt down—was a lot nicer on this Earth. It also could've been because after having seen Savitar speed through the city and Mick Rory lighting himself on fire, a high-tech facility (however neglected) wasn't such a big leap. Or maybe nothing really fazed Detective Thawne.

Whatever the reason, Caitlin was glad there wasn't a new basketload of questions to answer when Eddie was introduced to S.T.A.R. Labs.

"So this is where it all happens," he whistled, glancing around. He seemed tired, moving gingerly, eyes half open. "Saving the day?"

"Part-time, yes," Caitlin replied, smiling. She held out a hand. "I'm—"

"Caitlin Snow." Eddie finished for her, setting his coat down on one of the chairs to shake with her. "I know, I'm Eddie. Wally can't seem to shut up about you."

Caitlin smiled. "We're pretty big fans of him around here, too," she told him. She knew Wally must've explained the bare minimum to Thawne—she'd given him strict instructions not to tell a soul about where she and Savitar were really from, and had no doubt he'd follow them.

"He's a good kid." Eddie grinned a very sparkling, very Hollywood grin at her response.

It was funny—Iris had once, to Caitlin, described Eddie as that annoying kind of person who is so drop-dead handsome (Iris' words), who shines so often, he's blinded by it. Completely unaware of it, which only made everyone around them notice that much more. Caitlin had admitted to thinking he was rather pretty at one point herself, but looking at him now—even another version of him, with darker hair and possibly a different height—Iris' description simply didn't fit. Yes, he was handsome, but there was something honorable and good in Eddie that made him attractive, perfect teeth and great hair or not. He was a kind of average superhero.

"So," Eddie went on, smile reaching his eyes at last in slight excitement. "The—streak, the shadow, your friend—"

"Savitar."

"Savitar." Eddie made a scrunched face, almost as if he didn't quite fancy the name. "Wally said he wanted to help us with this case—I've gotta say, I didn't think he'd get his foot in the door." He shrugged, still grinning away, but it looked slightly forced now. "Every time I've seen the guy, he's just—" Eddie snapped his fingers. "Gone. It's been kind of a confusing partnership."

"Tell me about it," Caitlin muttered. She clapped her hands together, once, winding them a little with nerves. She hadn't realized how awkward it might be, talking to Eddie on her own. Not only was it weird to be conversing with someone who had died in front of her—in front of the whole team—but Caitlin couldn't begin the debriefing without Savitar. She suddenly wished Wally or Stein were here—or better yet, Iris. Iris had always known how to make Eddie comfortable, in any situation. She'd told Caitlin that Eddie had had a hard time talking to people if it wasn't work-related.

This Eddie didn't seem to have that problem, though. "I'm guessing he's out doing his thing, huh?"

Caitlin bit her lip. "He should be back any second now—I told him you were coming." Yesterday. She'd told him yesterday, and Savitar wasn't the kind of person to just forget important meetings. After all, he'd been the one to suggest Eddie give him any information they had.

"Wally's here too, right?" Eddie looked at the entrance, as if expecting West to come trooping into the Cortex. "He mentioned he had some after-work project going on with you guys."

"He's downstairs," Caitlin began falteringly.

It would take too long to explain. Wally had indeed gotten the framework done for the machine, but now that he was getting it in position—with Cisco's guidance—taking Eddie down to greet the boy would be a massive distraction. If Eddie hadn't had any questions before, he certainly would have then.

"How…" She cleared her throat. "How do you two know each other, exactly?" She sat in one of the chairs and motioned for Eddie to join her, resisting the urge to boot up one of the monitors and track Savitar's location. "I mean—I know you worked together with his dad—"

"We were partners," Eddie agreed, taking a seat. "When I joined the force, I had just moved here. I didn't really have anybody I knew, but after I was assigned to Joe, his family—kind of became mine, for a while." The smile was back, bigger than it had been before. "They would invite me over for dinner or some kind of outing on my days off. I guess…" He blinked, staring at the floor, near one of the white desk's legs. Picturing something. "I guess after what happened—after Joe was convicted—I couldn't just step back and leave Wally to deal with it. I felt responsible, you know?"

Caitlin, listening with her head tilted, pursed her lips in sympathy for him. She kept waiting for him to mention Iris, this Earth's Iris. If he had been such good friends with Family West-66, how had he and Iris not gravitated toward one another? Before Iris had died here, there had been no Barry Allen. No childhood friend turned sweetheart. When Eddie had been alive on Earth-1, Caitlin had always felt for Barry—stuck watching the love of his life entwine herself with someone else—but the blonde detective was clearly just as smitten. He and Iris had always seemed happy together, always seemed right for each other. Barry and Iris seemed right, too, but who said you were destined for only one person in your lifetime? If your first love passed, the way Eddie had, Iris and Barry were just as compatible. Both couples had the same ring around them (no tragic pun intended) that Caitlin thought she and Ronnie always had.

But there was nothing of Iris in Eddie's story. He went on to describe one of the family's outings—a trip mini-golfing—then to tell her how he and Wally met up every once in a while, to catch up on life and compare notes when it came to Joe's case. Still no Iris. Could it be that he and Earth-66's version of Barry's girl had never gotten together at all? She had been a cop here—it should've been so easy.

Savitar arrived just as Eddie had begun to trail off.

Thankfully, he was still in full costume, and Caitlin could tell he had remembered Eddie would be there by the way he was vibrating all over before coming to a complete stop in the Cortex.

"Shouldn't you be rebuilding, detective?" he offered instead of a greeting, not looking at Caitlin as he came in.

"We're working on it," Eddie replied, apparently assuming Savitar spoke out of concern for the force. Caitlin was pretty sure it was the speedster's usual unfriendliness. "Right now the CCPD's stuck using a hotel downtown for headquarters, but…" He shut his eyes, shaking his head with another, tighter smile. "This is more important."

Savitar shifted his weight, turning to face Eddie, though he continued to vibrate. "I'm listening."

"I know what Wally told you, but it's…it's different if you were there." Eddie took a deep breath and began. "It was two years after the accident here—with Wells' particle accelerator going nuts. At the end of the day, when we were all heading home, the station got an anonymous tip about the location of the Darbinyan crime family. We've been trying to track these guys down for years, and someone called in to tell us where they'd be—the guy said to have the chief meet them on the pier for the information."

"It had to be a trap," Caitlin broke in, shaking her head.

Eddie glanced at her, pointing. "Sighn figured that—and so did Joe. They went together in case there was any trouble." He paused, but didn't look guilty when he added, "I followed them. Joe told me to go home, I wasn't supposed to be there, but…if I hadn't gone, no one would know the truth."

"It was Rory," Savitar interrupted. "Rory called with the tip."

Thawne's eyes became hooded, almost darker. "He met them at the pier. I hid a good distance away, close enough to see everything. I remember pulling my weapon the second I saw him, but…back then he wasn't on the radar, no records. I had to wait until I was sure he was a threat, that it was really a trap, but I was too late. It was the first time I ever saw him use his powers. Joe got the chief out of the way, but he had to drop his gun. Rory used it to fire three shots into Sighn—it only took a second. Then he was gone."

Caitlin could picture it all easily. Flames reaching out for Joe and the chief, Joe's gun hitting the wet wood of the pier, Eddie in the shadows further down. She could almost hear the bullets whizzing through the air. Savitar remained silent a few feet away, but she could see by his stillness that he was listening.

"Wally told us he wore gloves," Caitlin recalled. "That the only fingerprints on the gun were Joe's." She tilted her head. "He said Joe had motive? But he wouldn't tell me what it was."

If it were possible for Eddie to look further in pain, this comment pushed him over the edge. It was clearly hitting him hard to tell the tale, though Caitlin was sure he must have done it a million times over, trying to prove Joe's innocence. "Joe and the chief didn't always get along," Eddie admitted, voice quieter now. "But it got worse after the explosion here—at S.T.A.R. Labs. Sighn assigned Joe's daughter, Iris—she was a cop—to security right outside the lobby. She never came home. Wally doesn't like to talk about that part because…because we both know Iris meant the world to Joe. To her whole family. It's just adding insult to injury, you know? That Joe would be accused of—of murdering someone for Iris' sake. There's just no way."

Caitlin risked a glance at Savitar, but he didn't seem to be affected by the news. He'd already known Iris-66 was dead—but she would've thought, given who he remembered being, hearing the story from someone familiar would pump some emotion into the situation. Then again, he himself had planned on killing one Iris West in the past. Hearing that another had died, false memories or not, shouldn't be much to shake him.

"Joe blamed Sighn for Iris' death," Eddie concluded. "Everyone knew it. But Joe—he's a good guy. An even better person than he is a detective, believe me. I didn't need to see what happened to know he would never have…"

"We believe you," Caitlin assured him. "And we are going to do everything we can to help."

Eddie nodded gratefully to her. Then he turned to Savitar, as if waiting for a reaction.

Savitar had stopped vibrating at some point during the story. He hadn't really needed to, Caitlin reminded herself, as Cisco's costume did a pretty good job of hiding his identity. He didn't have scars to blur anymore, either. "I'm gonna find Rory," he promised bluntly. "But I'm gonna need more than a tragic backstory to do it. I need to know where he's hiding."

Eddie made a face between confused and indignant. "If I knew that, we'd've had him already."

"You've been following him," Savitar countered. "You have to know some of his favorite places. I've met him twice, detective, you know more than I do about the guy."

"There's no pattern." Eddie spread his palms, shaking his head in frustration. "None. He's somewhere new every time, nothing's related. If I'd just nabbed him at the pier two years ago, none of—"

"Assistance!" came a sudden cry from the hall outside.

Everyone turned as Martin Stein came rushing in, doubled over just a bit, holding a beaker of something cloudy-white, almost a full mist, but clearly still enough of a liquid to make Stein's hands a bit wet as it spilled past the top. Indeed, it was overflowing from the glass container, and there was a measuring cup in Stein's other hand. He was attempting to catch the falling substance in this, holding it below the beaker. Caitlin noticed that the glass of his wristwatch was fogging up.

"Is that…?" Caitlin began in a warning tone.

"Yes yes yes, it's the antidote, I'm afraid," Stein huffed. He glanced at Caitlin out of the top of his eyes, though his glasses were trying to cloud over in the same way his watch was. "This is just a-a small sample I've extracted, in hopes of getting it into a presentable state for the hospital, but as you can see, the change in climate seems to have agitated it dramatically."

Eddie was looking from Stein to Savitar to Caitlin in a baffled game of eyeball ping-pong, as if trying to make sense of the interruption. An explanation from Stein, stranger or not, was bound to stupefy anyone, even on a slow day.

Stein paused, glancing at Eddie. "Pardon me, whoever-you-are, but are you going to stand there gaping like a Victorian aristocrat exposed to an ankle for the foreseeable future, or are you actually here to serve some purpose? Hold this." He shoved the antidote into Eddie's hand and held the measuring cup more steadily beneath it.

Eddie's eyes widened. His expression was that of panic as he turned to Caitlin, who shrugged. His mouth closed abruptly at Stein's words and he eyed the antidote as it tumbled over his knuckles and into Stein's measuring cup. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" he finally managed.

Stein barely looked up. "It's possible. I've won several awards—televised ceremonies. Careful, please, Mister…"

"Detective Eddie Thawne."

"Professor Martin Stein. Both hands! This is my wife's salvation you're carrying."

"Sorry."

Again, Eddie searched Caitlin's face for an explanation, but Caitlin, trying not to laugh, ignored this and said instead, "Professor, let me get you an actual phial for that."

"At last, someone with a head on their shoulders!" praised Stein, shooting her a glance that held a smile, even if his mouth remained tight and stressed.

Caitlin turned to leave the Cortex, faltering when she noticed Savitar was no longer there. He must not have sped away; there had been no blast of wind and no sickly yellow light. She headed quickly into the corridors, just in time to see him turn a corner.

"Savitar," she called, jogging a little to catch up with him.

Savitar didn't stop. He didn't need a talk. Having Thawne and Stein in the same room—Caitlin too—it made the Cortex seem fuller, it reminded him of the days when the Flash had everyone he'd ever needed to back him up. He wasn't ready for that feeling yet.

"I'm sorry," Caitlin blurted, folding her arms across her chest as she fell in step beside him. "I keep…taking all these pet projects instead of focusing on making sure you—"

Pet projects? "I don't care about that, Caitlin," Savitar interrupted, deadpan.

"Still," Caitlin cleared her throat. "It's a lot to do."

"Hey, when you're not working to become a god, you need some new hobbies," Savitar muttered. He still wasn't looking at her. Intentionally, he hadn't made eye contact with her since he'd come back to S.T.A.R. Labs. If he looked at her, he'd get softer, and he was desperately scrambling to put some distance between the two of them. In case she went through with it, after all this work. Earth-1 bound. But trying to create distance was like trying to cobble together the walls of a sandcastle that had just been soaked.

Her voice wasn't helping. The way it quieted down and all the bossy went out of it. "I haven't been fair to you. I guess I just thought…" She glanced at his face; he'd taken the hood of his costume down. "Without a way back to my Earth…I can't do anything about that. But until then, I can make a difference here."

Her Earth. Savitar snorted very softly. "You don't have to help everyone." A pause. She deserved some kind of explanation. "They're never gonna be it, Caitlin."

Her eyebrows rose. "What do you mean?"

Savitar looked backward, toward the Cortex. "They don't measure up."

He could feel her getting tense beside him. She was frustrated. As usual. "You promised you'd give them a chance. One chance, you said."

The speedster's head wagged back and forth. So smart, but she wasn't listening. "Not what I mean. Even if I give them a chance—they're not—"

"Do you think maybe your standards are too high?" She cut him off. "It's just—you don't even know them yet. Not really."

Now they were getting somewhere. Savitar chanced a glance at her. Her hair was tilting toward a kind of vanilla coffee color, in the pulsing lights on the corridor walls. She was trying to meet his eyes, moving pathetically slowly, but a speedster had no trouble avoiding a shared gaze. He shifted to looking at her hands, then at the far wall behind them, before she'd completed a blink.

"That's the problem." He felt the corner of his mouth twitch up, an old exasperated smirk surfacing. "Eddie, Stein, Wally—they're all…clean slates. I don't have to worry what they think of me, whether we're in the same room together or not, Snow." Savitar threw his arms up halfway, letting them slap back down. It made him feel better.

"I don't follow," Caitlin admitted. She was biting her lower lip. He didn't have to see it to know. He could hear it in her tone, he knew her. Of course she was. "You get so frustrated—they just want our help. And sooner or later, they're going to want to pay it forward. To be on your side. Wally already does." She slid her hands in her pockets. He saw it out of the corner of his eyes. "You have to give them the chance to choose you, too. How can you do that if you won't even try to get to know them?"

She still wasn't getting it. She wasn't hearing what he was trying to tell her. Did he actually know how to communicate it? Barry had been so good at tender speeches. He was rusty. He didn't want it enough.

How could she not understand? Getting this close to her was now a major problem. It was Caitlin that kept him from outright mauling common criminals, it was the thought of Caitlin that had him donning the suit at all. It was Caitlin combating all the rage and the hurt trying to drag him down every day. Like a lifeline. And she was trying so hard to cut the cord, turn him loose, take all that away. He had to worry what she thought of him. How much he meant to her. Daily. He couldn't do it with three more people. He didn't have to have anyone else.

Did he need Caitlin Snow?

The God of Speed was—just for a moment—afraid.

"I'm tired, Caitlin." Savitar finally looked her in the eyes. "I don't need a lecture right now. Okay?"

Caitlin's expression froze. For a moment, she seemed hurt. Then she stiffened up, and there was a hint of Frost as she turned away. "Fine. Get some rest. But they will be here when you wake up."

(Author's Note: Next chapter is on its way! Don't leave me. We're almost done with this monster story! I wanna hear what you've got to say! -Doverstar)