A/N: Okay, so this is the officially the last chapter of Taken! It has been a BLAST writing this story, and I'll be posting a new SnowBarry story in a day or two. I would like to thank everyone who has so kindly reviewed - your comments are what have inspired me to continue writing, even through the hard times. Thank you for reading this story. I hope everyone's enjoyed it!

Just close your eyes

The sun is going down

You'll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I'll be safe and sound.

Singing. A boy singing. Fat green fruits hang above her head; long pointed leaves cast shadows on her white dress, which spreads across the ground beneath her back. She's lying on a green field, dotted with daisies, watching sunlight fade into shadow, clasping Ronnie's hand. She never knew he could sing her cares away, open up space in her heart for sunshine and music and the clean green smell of chlorophyll.

But Ronnie's real voice is a rumble like the deep whir of air purifiers, not silky like the inside of an avocado, never capable of high hums and low timbers. She's heard Ronnie sing before, and if she's being honest, he sounds like a drowning donkey.

Caitlin opens her eyes, expecting to see him. She doesn't. It's Barry. She glimpses milk chocolate brown hair, cheekbones like razors and eyes that sparkle. His hand is warm in hers, and Caitlin clutches it like a lifeline, watching Barry's lips open and close as he sings.

"Caitlin?"

Caitlin. Not Cait.

The music has stopped.

She blinks in her dream, opens her eyes and opens them again to take in reality. She's in the clean, sterile environment of a hospital room. It's dark except for a sidelight, and all is quiet. Her head and her chest ache, and Caitlin feels like she is swimming in a bathtub. Like the world isn't quite big enough. Her right arm smarts, and she notices the IV attached to it on the inside of her elbow. The air smells of something sharp and antiseptic.

Barry hovers anxiously by her bedside. He looks awful – haunted even – as though he hasn't slept for days. Unlike in the dream, his face is pinched and pale, with dark bruises ringing his eyes and he's dressed in a flannel shirt that looks like it might fall apart with one more wash cycle and a pair of jeans that look like they have seen better days. He wears sneakers without socks, and hastily backs up once he notices that she's awake.

"Hi." Caitlin croaks.

"Caitlin." Barry sounds as though he's about to cry. "You're awake."

"How long was I out?" Caitlin whispers, feeling as though she's just gone ten rounds with a T-Rex.

"About two days." Barry hesitates, gnawing on his bottom lip. "You have some cracks in your skull, bruised ribs, a fractured wrist and bruises covering every inch of your skin."

Ouch.

"What happened?" The last thing she remembers is being cradled in a warm and gentle embrace, the smell of sugar and wind and summer nights tickling her nose. Her mind rebels against her as she tries to recall. "Tony. Oh God, Tony, he's –"

"Locked up tight." Barry's voice is choked, hoarse. "Caitlin, do you have any idea how dangerous that was? He could have killed you, I could have been too late –"

"I'll heal." Caitlin rattles off.

"He nearly killed you. Do you have any idea what you looked like last night?" Barry has difficulty speaking, as if the words are too big for his mouth. "Blood all over your clothes, blood in your hair -" He breaks off with an exasperated groan. "Caitlin, you're not like me, you're human. You can't heal like I can."

Caitlin glares, struggling to sit up. The spinning in her head accelerates, and Barry hastily pushes her back down onto the pillows. "So it's okay for you to get hurt all the time?"

"What?" Barry radiates confusion, his brows pulled together. "Caitlin, I –"

Caitlin fights to keep a grimace off her face. "Barry, I've had to patch you up ten times since you became the Flash. And each time, your injuries get worse and worse. I just . . ."

"Caitlin, I'm sorry." His eyes are luminous with contrition. "But you can't pull a stunt like that again. Dr. Wells is furious, and Cisco's been worried sick."

"I just . . . I don't want to see you die." Caitlin closes her eyes on a sigh, and she winces when her ribs protest. It hurts. "Tony could have killed you, breaking the sound barrier could have killed you . . ."

This time, Barry looks surprised, disbelieving almost, as if he can't quite comprehend why anyone would be worried about him. It's enough to make her splinter on the inside. She attempts to pat him on the shoulder, but the IV pulling at her hands stops her.

"I know I should have called for backup, but I thought I could handle it. I wanted to be able to stop him on my own, so that you wouldn't have to –" Caitlin's shoulders slump. She'd tried, but it seemed that her futile efforts had all but landed her in a hospital bed. "I wanted to protect you, instead of it being the other way around. I can't . . . I can't lose you like -"

Even after all these months, saying his name is hard. The words clog up her throat, refuse to leave her lips, but Barry's eyes soften and she knows that he gets it.

"Caitlin, I –"

The nurse bustles in, brandishing a syringe. She leaves after injecting the medicine into the tubes. It doesn't take long for drowsiness to trickle through Caitlin's bloodstream. Barry stands by the bed, looking tired, and in spite of the fact that she wants him to stay, she knows she should try to persuade him to go home.

"You should get some rest." She hears herself saying. "Go home, Barry. You look exhausted."

"It's fine, I've been sleeping on the sofa." The lack for his own health never fails to irk Caitlin. "I didn't want to leave you."

Because it's my fault that Tony came after you. Reading in between the lines lets Caitlin know all that Barry is reluctant to say. Her eyelids droop, but Caitlin stubbornly gestures to the covers by her left leg, indicating that he should sit. The conversation isn't over yet.

"Caitlin, you have an IV, I don't think -"

"Please?"

Barry sighs heavily, but a nanosecond later, perches gingerly on the very edge of her cot. Deep in thought, he reaches out and clasps her hand in his, idly running his thumb over her gauze-covered hand. His feels as if Caitlin is clutching the full blazing sun in her palm. So hot, and hers so cold. The friction and heat is divine.

"I wanted to help." Caitlin's eyelids droop; she fights the urge to fall asleep once more. "I wanted you to be safe."

"Caitlin, you do help. More than you know. I mean, you patch me up all the time. Without you, I'd be –" A straight crease appears between his eyebrows. "- I don't know what I'd do without you."

Caitlin tries to shake her head, but it feels too heavy, as though liquid steel has been injected into her veins. "I might not be able to reach you on time. What if you don't come back?"

She's grown fond of Barry. He's grown on her like roots in fertile soil. Whenever she's with him, it feels like something warm, a slowly kindling fire prickles behind her ribs and spreads to her belly. She can't explain what it is, only that it's multicolored and alive and makes her hold her breath, wrap her arms around her chest and try to cage it in.

She isn't sure if she's in love with Barry, or if this means that he's managed to melt down the layer of frost encasing her heart.

"I will always come back." He reaches a hovering hand down, and Caitlin feels the brush of a calloused hand against her forehead as he brushes runaway strands of hair from her face. "Scout's honor."

She thinks she smiles. That will do, for now. His words ease the anxiety that makes her heart take off like a frightened baby bird. "'Kay."

She isn't really there at all anymore. But she fights against the stupor weakly. There is just one more thing she wants to tell him.

As if from a distance, Caitlin hears herself say, "He said I was in love with you."

"Who?"

"Tony." Caitlin struggles to pronounce his name correctly.

"He said that? No way, I don't think –"

"I think he might have been a teensy bit correct."

And as the night closes over her, she feels the lightest pressure over her lips, along with the familiar and comforting smell of sugar and summer nights.