A/N: For the sake of this story, I'm pretending WestAllen doesn't exist and also, I'm pretending that the Killer Frost story arc is the biggest thing going on within the Flash team right now.

I hope you enjoy! I'd love to hear your thoughts. :)

"Barry," she breathes out his name and the word is sweet on her lips, but in the back of her head screams a voice telling her that she is a traitor. She is at war with her body, she is at war with the world.

"It's okay," he says and pulls Caitlin's trembling frame against his. He is warm and soft and it's so different from anything she's felt in so long. She wants to melt into the heat he radiates. She wants to disappear—go far, far away where she can't hurt anymore people she loves. But at the same time, her feet stay firmly on the ground, she cannot yet bring herself to part.

"I got you. It's okay," he repeats.

"I'm sorry, Barry. I'm so sorry," she whispers. God, she barely recognizes her own voice—it's so hollow, so fragile.

"No, Cait, it wasn't you. We're going to fix this. We're going to help you."

"I don't know if you can," she sobs.

He doesn't know how to respond, doesn't know what words will still her trembling body or alleviate the quiver in her voice; so he stands there hugging her and seconds pass, turn to minutes. Until she finally sinks back and looks him in the eyes. "You guys need my help?"

He nods.

"Let's go," she says and there's something different in her eyes. It's not Killer Frost, but it's not the usual Caitlin he's known for so long. Instead, he sees the same look glinting across the scientist's face that she wore when Ronnie died or Jay died or his evil identity was revealed or all the times Barry stumbled back into the Cortex, half dead and injured.

He watches her as she works, as her fingers dance across test tubes and chemicals without hesitation. He watches as her leg bounces, shakes back and forth beneath her and notes the way her bottom lip is pulled beneath her teeth. He notices when tears brim in her eyes and she bites down on her lip so hard she draws blood.

He has seen her broken and shattered and falling apart; this is the first time he's even seen her so shaken and unsure of herself.

When they're done and everything's done for the day—everyone with their happy ending, except for Caitlin who wallows by the hall and it almost looks like she wants to lock herself up again just to keep them safe.

"Hey Caitlin," Barry says, appearing by her side as the Cortex begins to empty and the buzz slows.

"Hey." She turns around and his eyes linger on the blondish white streaking her hair.

"You should go home, get some rest. We'll figure everything out tomorrow."

Caitlin sends another glance down the hall. "I don't know… I don't want to, you know…" she trails off and he fills the silence.

"Come home with me, then. I have a guest room. I'll make sure nothing happens, and Cisco, he worked on the handcuffs. They're stronger now. You can't hurt anyone."

Her bottom lip gives a soft little quiver and he watches a storm rage inside her head. "Okay," she says finally, giving a small nod.

He smiles and offers his hand, feeling light when her skin meets his and their fingers curl together. "Ready?" he asks.

She nods, hair bouncing, eyes distant.

Caitlin expects him to race off into the night, all super speed and rushed, but instead he walks slowly, guides them out of the building and onto the windy street.

They traipse down the sidewalk through bustling seas of people; Barry doesn't let go of Caitlin's hand. Not when she tenses up, not when she shivers.

"Are you hungry? When was the last time you ate?"

She shrugs, genuinely unable to remember.

"We're definitely getting take out then," he says and steers her into a nearby restaurant.

They arrive at his new apartment half an hour later and as he spreads out the food, she sits at the kitchen counter, helping without comment. Everything is changing so fast she thinks with a pang in her chest. She doesn't want to leave Barry, doesn't want to leave all the people and places she loves, but she won't ever be able to live with herself if she hurts them.

After a few minutes of pushing Pad Thai around her plate and Barry's attempts at light conversation, Caitlin drops her fork. The metal clatters against granite.

"What's wrong?" he asks, passing and diverging immediately from the longwinded story about some middle school catastrophe he and Iris had gotten themselves into years ago.

"I'm just not hungry anymore," she says. She feels hot and cold and sick. Everything is just wrong. Everything is falling apart and she can't—

"I can't keep doing this," she whispers and drops her gaze toward the floor.

"Doing what?" Barry asks, tilting his head in an attempt to catch her gaze again.

"Pretending that everything is okay, that—that this is normal." Her words come out in a rush, growing more frantic, more rushed. She pushes herself out of her seat and begins pacing, hair scrunched in her hands, breaths quick and sharp.

"Cait—" Barry begins, but Caitlin cuts him off.

"Barry, I almost killed you today. I—whatever this thing inside me is—wanted to kill you…"

He sees the panic building inside her, watches as her steps grow faster.

"…and that is not okay. That's never going to be okay."

Her breaths are shallow, catching in her throat. "I can't do this. I can't stay, I have to go where I can't hurt you—where I can't hurt anyone…. I—"

"Cait, listen to me. We're going to work this out. We can fix this."

"No we can't!" She screams back. "We can't. I'm broken, Barry, we can't fix that." Her words disintegrate into sobs that rack her small frame and she backs into the wall, sinks to the floor so her knees curl up against her chest and her head falls into her hands.

Barry is by her side as fast as his super speed will allow. He drops himself to the ground next to her, so that their legs are just barely touching. It all comes pouring out—all her tears, all her grief—like she's reliving every misery and anguish in her life. She cries for Ronnie, for Jay, for Cisco and Barry, and she cries for the future, for the monster she is bound to become. She isn't ready to leave this life.

Her shoulders heave, her hands quiver, and her breaths come as quick, heavy gasps.

Barry lets her cry it out until the tears slow a bit and she sniffles. He sees her muscles relax just the slightest.

"Caitlin," he says gently and even though she doesn't look up he continues talking, sliding her hand into his. "We've done the impossible before." He runs his thumb over the soft skin of her palm. "And there's no reason it can't happen to you."

Her gaze is still trained on the wood floor but she raises her free hand to brush tears from her cheeks.

"Caitlin Snow, you are not alone." Something in that phrase pulls her eyes upward. Tear drops cling to her lashes, fluttering against wet, puffy, red skin and carving paths across soft cheeks. "You will never be alone. I promise."

The scientist is still for a moment, diaphragm moving up and down, up and down; lungs filling with air. Then she scurries to close the distance between them and she's in his arms and he's hugging her close and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, there's a small chance somewhere in this infinite universe that not all is lost.

New tears fill her eyes and drop onto his shirt. Barry runs his hand up and down her back, uses the other to keep holding her close. He can feel her heartbeat, her lungs inflate and deflate, and the tremble ever tear sends through her body. "I'm sorry," he whispers into her hair. His lips brush her forehead. "I'm so sorry, Cait, I'm so sorry. You don't deserve any of this."

She murmurs against his coat as she's pressed against his chest. "Of all the people in the world to go through this with me, I'm glad I have you."

His heart hammers. "I'm going to do everything I can to help you."

"I know," she says softly. She leans back, pulls away slightly and stands. A yawn escapes from her lips and he sends her a look. "Tired?"

She shrugs. "A little."

He brings her a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. They're too big and they pool around her frame, but she doesn't mind. It makes her feel less alone. "You'll stay?" she asks. "Until I fall asleep."

"Of course." He knows he'd stay forever if she asked.

Caitlin slides over, makes space for him to climb in next to her. She turns toward the wall and closes her eyes. He thinks she's asleep minutes later, after the sun has sunk in the sky, but her soft voice cuts through the darkness. "Barry, I'm scared."

She turns back toward him, eyes glancing up at him through the darkness.

His heart is in his throat. "Me too," he admits and rubs her shoulder, threads his fingers through her hair. "But it'll be okay. We'll figure it out."

She nods and her eyelids are tugged closed by exhaustion. She falls asleep to his to his touch, to his hand on her back. It is the first time, in months, that she feels warmth reach her core.