I love all the theories and questions you guys have. It makes this even more fun for me, and it makes me feel even more like an evil mastermind.

Enjoy!

A white ceiling, antiseptic stench, burst into Caitlin's awareness. She gasped and shot up, eyes burning and breath ragged, and nearly blacked out again. Her heart racing, she looked around wildly, trying to comprehend where she was.

A hand rested gently on her arm, warm, non-threatening. "Hey, Cait. It's okay. You're safe."

Beside Caitlin, Iris' face swam into view. A momentary horror blasted through Caitlin's mind: had they taken Iris too?

"Lie back down," Iris said. "Come on, it's alright."

Then Caitlin's surroundings came into focus. Not a warehouse. A clean hospital, with starchy sheets and plasticky pillows, but still soft and safe. She allowed herself to be eased back onto the mattress—thankfully, because she was so weak she wasn't sure she could sit up much longer. Once back on the pillows, her head unclouding somewhat, she took stock of her own body, perhaps because of her doctor instincts. The most noticeable was, of course, the brace on her arm, the IV in the opposite one. When she winced, she felt the pull of bandages on her face as well.

"You're in the hospital," Iris said without prompting. "You've been out for a while, but seems like you needed the rest. They've been working on getting whatever drug that was out of your system, plus rehydrating you."

"A while?" Caitlin said. "How long is 'a while'?" She craned her neck to look at the window. Though the blinds were closed, light streamed in. The sight made her heart stutter, hard to disguise with the active heart monitor. "It's morning?"

"Early afternoon," Iris admitted. "My dad found you around three in the morning."

Early afternoon. It had been almost twenty-four hours since they'd been taken. The heart monitor continued to speed up. She almost didn't dare ask the question but knew she had to. "Barry and Cisco?"

Iris biting her lip was all the answer she needed. "My dad couldn't find them. They must have been transported somewhere else. They're still working on it."

Caitlin's eyes burned, and she squeezed them shut in an effort not to let the tears fall. Along with the accelerating heartbeat, her body was again betraying her by shaking itself to pieces, her breath coming in gasps. Iris threaded her fingers through Caitlin's and squeezed her hand gently. She waited patiently for Caitlin to regain control of her emotion, even looking away as Caitlin reached up to wipe away tears.

"STAR?" Caitlin said, swallowing, again fearing the answer she would receive. "The explosion."

And, again, Iris tensed, though the worry didn't appear to be as sharp. "We're all okay. I mean—we will be okay. It was Harry who got there first."

"Oh, God," Caitlin breathed. "Is he…?"

"He's going to be fine," said Iris quickly. "The explosives these guys rigged up were pretty crude. He's scorched and nursing a concussion, but he's on the mend. At STAR, of course. His being alive would be hard to explain to an actual hospital." She offered a tight smile.

Although it wasn't much, a tiny weight was lifted from Caitlin's chest. "He's going to be okay, though? He's going to be okay?"

"Yes." Iris squeezed her hand again to slow the wave of inconsolable anxiety. "We're safe. We're here."

"Not all of us," Caitlin breathed.

"We're working on that part." Caitlin jumped at the sudden voice from the doorway to the hospital room, but it was only Joe, looking drawn. "Sorry to scare you, I should've knocked."

Caitlin tried to relax, but found that the presence of the detective and everything he signified didn't allow for it. "Any progress on Cisco and Barry?"

"How are you feeling?" Joe asked, sidestepping the question about as nimbly as he shuffled closer to Iris. "Glad to see you awake."

"Joe," Caitlin persisted. "You're not here to bring me good news, are you?"

Joe sighed heavily and sank into an extra chair. "The good news is that you're safe, and recovering. The bad news is that no, we've had no luck with Cisco and Barry. Canton won't crack."

"Canton?" Caitlin asked, creasing her forehead.

"Rose Canton," Joe explained. "The woman who was holding you hostage. We have her in detainment back at the station."

"I thought you shot her."

"In the arm," Joe said. "We need her, especially if she knows where exactly Barry and Cisco and the other kidnapper are."

"Jason," Caitlin said. "His first name is Jason." Her frown deepened. "How did you know it was just one other?"

"When we raided the warehouse we confiscated the security camera and all of its footage. It's okay," he added quickly, holding up a hand when Caitlin made a noise of agitation, "only I have seen it. I figured there might be a chance of visible evidence of Barry and Cisco's powers—lucky I got to it first." His jaw tightened. "Lucky we found you at all, really. We caught them on security footage after they broke into Mercury Labs last night."

"And you can't find where this Jason went?" Iris said.

"It's not like they had an intense security system," Joe said. He took a breath. "Caitlin, I'm sorry to bother you so soon after…" He visibly swallowed. "The quicker I can get your statement, the easier this will be."

"Of course." Caitlin hoped the words sounded less shaky than they felt. "Whenever you need."

"I'm off to another interrogation right now," Joe said. "You need your rest."

"Let me help," Caitlin said. "Let me talk to her."

Joe got to his feet, pushing her back down to the pillow as he did. "No," he said firmly. "I cannot let you get involved in this."

"I'm already involved," Caitlin said. "I was involved from moment one."

"No. Absolutely not." Joe gave her a parting squeeze on the shoulder. "Get some rest. I'll be back soon. With any updates. I promise."

"Joe," Caitlin said, but it was too late. Although he appeared pained, Joe had made up his mind and was already turning his back. The fight was over. The hospital room door closed.

"He's right," Iris said softly. "You should get some sleep. There's nothing you can do now but heal."

After a pause, Caitlin nodded stiffly, angry at the fresh tears slipping down her face. This time she didn't even bother wiping them away, staring fixedly at a spot on the ceiling.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Iris asked.

In reality, Caitlin hadn't considered that. She supposed she should have been afraid to be alone, ready for comfort, but in reality she was so consumed by everything else that the fear of isolation didn't have room to manifest. Still, logically, she guessed that it might. That's how she was used to thinking. That's how she had to think. Logically.

"I guess," she replied in a monotone. "Did you bring anything to do?"

With her free hand, Iris produced a paperback from her purse. "I'm all set," she said. Her thumb stroked lightly against the back of Caitlin's hand and over her wrist—a wrist marred by ghastly purple and yellow bruises—before pulling away. "I'll be right over here. Try to close your eyes."

She retreated to the windowseat, where there was at least enough light through the blinds that she could squint at her book. The loss of touch, of warmth, was immediately felt.

Caitlin stared at the ceiling for as long as she could keep her eyes open. When they started to inevitably drift close, she rolled stubbornly to her side, fighting the wires that kept her tethered and immobile. In a semi-fetal position, she continued her staring at the far wall. She wouldn't close her eyes. She couldn't.

Eventually, her body's instincts took over, and she began drifting. Intermittently she would be awoken by a nurse passing through, or a chill, which she felt often but was reluctant to fight. As long as she still felt something on the outside, she was reassured about gradually going numb inside. The longer she lay there, hopping in and out of awareness, gazing blankly at the wall, the more her emotions felt dampened.

Logically, she might have guessed it was the shock setting in. But even that, even that gut response to trust facts, was being dampened.

Every waking moment, and every stretch of unconscious time when she could not count the moments, was another that Barry and Cisco went unaccounted for. Each tick of the clock was one where Joe had not called with news, and each tick of the clock was one where Caitlin's imagination wound itself tighter and tighter.

She wrenched her eyes open, stared at the blank walls, and willed herself not to dream worse.

"How has she been doing?"

It was Joe's voice that drew Caitlin out of her most recent trance. She refocused on the wall, but her muscles were so tight that she didn't move from her position. Instead, she simply listened.

"I don't think she's slept much," Iris whispered back. "Can you blame her? Dad, you have to let her help."

Joe sighed. "She's in shock, Iris. What she went through…it's a lot. I want to give her enough space. And I'm not sure what she would be able to do."

The forceful breath from Iris was audible even across the room. "I hope you're right. You know she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if anything happened to the boys and she wasn't there to help."

The chair creaked, there was a stretch of silence. Apparently the conversation was over. After a few seconds, soft footfalls crossed the room toward Caitlin, approaching from the back. There was a pause, and Caitlin wondered if Joe could see that her eyes were open. A large, warm hand rested lightly on her upper arm.

"Caitlin?" he said softly. "How are you doing?"

She debated not answering, of feigning sleep, or, worse, continuing to stare with her lips sealed. But in the end her need for information won out.

"Have you learned anything new?" She cut straight to the chase. Joe knew how she was doing.

"Not much," Joe said. "We're having trouble breaking her. All she's given us is the fact that she hates metahumans. And where she was the night of the particle accelerator explosion."

"With Jason and his brother, her fiancé," Caitlin said matter-of-factly. "They were attacked by a new meta and her fiancé was killed." Finally she rolled to her back to confront Joe face to face. "I've talked to this woman. I've spent time with her. You have to let me see her."

Joe hesitated. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"When has anything we've done been a good idea?" Caitlin levered herself up on her elbows and looked him straight in the eye. "Joe, please."

She didn't know what she was channeling—the spirit of a daughter, or of an equal—but whatever it was, it softened Joe's features. His eyelids fluttered closed as he took a few more seconds to consider, but Caitlin could see that she'd won.

"Okay," he said finally. "Tell you what. Iris will work on getting you discharged. It should only take an hour or so. In the meantime, I'll go back to the station to explain the situation. I'll meet you there."

"Here's a new plan," Caitlin said. Spurred into action, she reached across and peeled away the tape on her arm. "I go with you to the station right now." Hardly a wince accompanied the removal of her IV. She let the line dangle and swung her legs off of the bed.

As she stepped into a pair of slippers, she didn't miss the glance between Joe and Iris. Iris stood from her windowseat. "I'll take care of it."

Caitlin was too busy steadying herself to pay much attention to the muted conversation that followed, even with the nurse that came bustling into the room asking questions. Joe handled him while Caitlin mastered her balance and trembling legs and started making her way to the door. Eventually, somehow, Joe managed to pass the nurse off to Iris and joined Caitlin, guiding her with a hand on her elbow.

"Nothing I say is going to slow you down, is it?" he said quietly as she dodged curious looks from hospital staff and patients alike.

"No." The sooner Joe accepted that, she reasoned, the better it would be for both of them.

Once in the car, the plan formulating in Caitlin's mind gained solidity. The engine rumbled to life, and she curled her hand around the leather seat.

"Can we stop at STAR on the way?" she asked.

The car peeled out of the lot, daylight streaming into Caitlin's eyes. "Of course," Joe said. "It's on the way. Want to pick up some extra clothes there?"

For the first time Caitlin became fully cognizant of the fact that she was still in her hospital gown. However, she shook her head.

"There's just something I need to get there."

Thankfully, he didn't press further. He allowed the car to be steeped in silence, allowed Caitlin to drift into that liminal space where her thoughts grew fuzzy. Though she stared out the window, her gaze was unfocused.

When they finally pulled into the STAR parking lot, Caitlin unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door before Joe had the chance to cut the engine.

"I'll be right back," she said. "I'll only be a minute."

Again, she didn't wait for him to protest. She slammed the door shut and shuffled, slippers and all, toward the door.

The air still smelled like smoke, like char, even if there was no evidence of it from outside the building. One she crossed the threshold into the building, though, there was a different story on display. At the main doors were clearly scorch marks, one of the walls pockmarked by the aftermath of an explosion. The floor was clearly grainy with dust and residue. She wondered where Wells was—how he'd ever convinced everyone to leave him alone and injured in STAR Labs after what had happened.

Well, they had other problems, she supposed. They needed every help they could get. And Caitlin wasn't going to let her own skills go to waste.

Once in the cortex, Caitlin moved to the tiny lab where she kept supplies. The effort not to look too hard at her workspace was deliberate—yellow evidence markers littered the floor, by her fallen papers, by Cisco's half-eaten chocolate bar, by the shattered phone. She clattered around in a few of the drawers before finding exactly what she was looking for. With surprising speed and steadiness, she set up the two vials and sucked up a sample of each into two syringes.

"Snow?"

The suddenness of the scratchy voice wasn't even enough to make Caitlin jump now. She merely finished collecting her samples and looked up at her own pace. "Good to see you're doing okay." It wasn't a lie. Though burns streaked down the side of Wells' face, he looked remarkably normal, cool.

"And good to see you alive," Wells responded. "Ms. West at least informed me that you'd been rescued. She didn't tell me you were well enough to be discharged."

She felt his pointed gaze on her hospital gown. "If you ask me, you probably shouldn't be up and about either."

"Any luck with Mr. Allen and Mr. Ramon?" Wells said, apparently nonplussed.

Caitlin emerged from the room, clutching the two syringes. Wells' eyes immediately went to them. "We're working on it."

She brushed past Wells. However, he stopped her with a hand to the arm. "Snow. Don't do anything you'll regret later."

The motion, and the words, were the final snapping point within her. She wrenched her arm away viciously, and her voice dropped in pitch just as her disposition dropped in temperature. "I just spent hours—hours—held captive in an empty warehouse watching my best friends get tortured in front of me. They are still there, and the longer we wait, the slimmer their chances of surviving are. So, no, I'm not going to do anything I will regret, and if I do, do you really think I'll give a damn if it means my friends are alive?"

Wells stood, mouth drawn tight in a thin line. The burns on his face glistened. He didn't say a word. Caitlin waited for him to break the gaze, which he did; then she turned on her heel and strode from the room.

"You good?" Joe said as she re-entered the car, the syringes hidden in the folds of her hospital gown.

"Fine. Just drive," Caitlin responded. Perhaps he sensed the iciness in her voice, because he did. No questions asked.

If you couldn't tell already, I really love Cait, and this is primarily a story about her, so I hope you're ready to dive into this second half of the fic-the rescue attempt. Come explore moral gray areas with me. It'll be great.

Thanks for reading. You know the drill. Y'all are great.

Till next time,

Penn