Returning the Favor ; (Heavy Lies the Head, chapter 2)

When Caitlin turns up missing after a relatively minor mishap involving the treadmill getting covered with ice (and Barry subsequently slipping off and bruising a few ribs), he knows exactly where to find her.

Sure enough, when he arrives at the little pocket park three blocks from the lab, Caitlin is sitting at the water's edge, just like he'd expected. Even from this distance, he can tell that she is absolutely distraught: her posture is sagged but tense, her brown curls are in disarray from tugging her fingers frustratedly through them and she's sitting with her bare feet firm on the ground, arms hugging her knees tight against her chest (he's also 99% sure that's she's shaking but she's curled up so tight it could just be the force of her breathing fighting the press of her knees). Barry's heart breaks a little at the sight, the shattered pieces sweeping themselves up to tangle in his worry, and he crosses the grass quietly, removing his sneakers and socks as he moves, rolling up the legs of his jeans, desperate to get close and soothe her.

Clearly distracted with her (guilt? grief? regret?), Caitlin startles when he sits down next to her, landing heavily and gritting his teeth against the jarring of his ribs—an action he desperately tries to hide. But Caitlin recovers quickly, her dark gaze finds his face and of course she notices the tiniest pull of his jaw, the minute tension at the corners of his eyes that, for all his best efforts, he can't completely wipe away. "Oh God Barry, what did I do?" Her voice is wrung over with guilt, with grief, with regret (all three then).

He doesn't answer her question, instead let's a brief, skittering silence dance between them before turning, smiling, toward the clear, shallow water that flows lazily in front of them. "You know, ever since that afternoon last summer, I always think of this as our place." Barry leans back, jostling himself into a comfortable, languid position: feet stretched out, toes in the water, braced on his arms and looking up at the sun. It's just as beautiful as the first day they'd come here, Caitlin trying to distract him from his own dark thoughts. He wishes he didn't need to return the favor now, but for her he's always more than willing.

"We haven't been here since then Barry," Caitlin points out, confused by the change in subject, eyes still clouded over and her chest still pressed against her thighs. He notices the whites of her knuckles, the force with which he still grips, and knows he has a long way to go to distract and soothe her, but she's talking, so that's a start.

"I know," he shrugs, that easy smile ever present. "But whenever I start to feel a little hopeless, I like come here and think about that afternoon. Looked a lot like this, actually." Here he shifts his weight again and lifts an arm to gesture around them. "Bright sun, blue sky, birds singing everywhere."

She remembers. She thinks about that day too: splashing around, laughing, burning with the victory that was cheering up Barry Allen. When things get hard, especially lately, that afternoon reminds her of what they're fighting for, who they're fighting for. "It was gorgeous," Caitlin comments quietly, the hint of a smile chasing some of the darkness still looming heavy across her brow.

"You were gorgeous." For the first time, he breathes the words that had hung on his lips that afternoon, watching her wade through the water without a care in the world, save to make him smile again. Caitlin whips around at that, turning enough to break her iron grip on her legs and look at him in surprise. Barry laughs, light and easy and affectionate as he meets her gaze dead on. "Well you were! And still are Cait—even when you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders."

He means the comment to be light, but it trips her two steps in reverse and she's drawn back to why she'd come here in the first place: her accidental use of her poorly controlled powers, which had caused Barry to get hurt. He watches her close down again, watches the way guilt steals away the smile he'd coaxed out, and the only ice he feels now is the chill against his heart. "I'm a monster Barry, not any better than anyone we've got down in those cells." That icy grip tightens, but he refuses to let it take over.

Barry knows that her troubles controlling her powers—the random patches of ice, frozen pipes and occasional, accidental body heat snatching—have been frustrating her but he hadn't quite expected that comment. "Hey," he says softly, one hand bridging the space between them to rest against her cheek, guiding her gaze back to his. "You are nothing like them Caitlin—you'd never hurt anyone on purpose, you'd never choose to use your powers to cause harm." She's had mishaps here and there, sure, but so did he when he'd first started. It happens, it's not her fault and he's not going to let her wallow or wear this self-loathing like a scarlet brand above her heart.

For a long second, Caitlin wars with her desire and disgust: she wants so badly to accept his words and bask in the comfort and understanding that Barry's trying to give but she doesn't feel like she deserves it. She's done a lot of stupid things lately and it seems like she should be atoning for them, suffering the consequences, something more concrete than her own personal shame. But it's such a heavy burden to bear and she's exhausted by it. Eventually it's Barry's thumb, sliding softly against the curve of her jaw, that does her in and she leans into the affectionate touch, caving to his comfort. "I just hate not being able to control this," Caitlin sighs, looking defeated but a little more at ease than a moment ago.

"Hey, you'll get there." Barry promises, soft and sure and so glad she's coming around. "If I've learned anything over the last few years, it's that there's nothing we can't all do when we work together." His grin is bright, his words a promise and then he's up and moving, sliding his hand from her cheek to her back, his other arm sliding under her bent knees. In a flash, Barry has her in his arms (a familiar position) and he's wading into the river.

Completely distracted from her earlier worries, Caitlin lets out a shriek of laughter, squirming in his grasp while he playfully threatens to drop her. She's wearing a light dress, her heels back in the grass and a wild smile on her face—Barry's heart soars and he tips her in his arms so that just her bare toes skim along the water's surface. The action just causes her to nestle herself more tightly against him, still laughing and calling vague threats. "Barry Allen, put me down right now or I'll…"

She doesn't get the chance to finish because, careful to keep her steady and standing, Barry drops her right into the current. The subsequent splash soaks the hem of her dress and the rolled legs of his pants, temporarily staining them dark. "Really Barry?" Her head shakes, her eyes roll and then she's leaning down to splash at his face, which dissolves into a wet, messy tussle between them. Just like the last time, they give into the childish game and let it drown out the worries and the fears that too often follow them, the sound of laughter echoing brightly in their little corner of the world.

A few minutes later, wet and winded, they fall back against the carpet of grass on the riverbank, breathing heavily and smiling. "Always playing the hero," Caitlin teases softly, turning her head to look at Barry, laying just a few inches away.

There is a part of her, that part that's always a little too chilly these days, that wants to fall back into the grief and loathing, but it's easy to beat back with the warm weight of Barry's gaze on hers, a smile gentle across his lips. "Just returning the favor, Cait. Just returning the favor."

In part one we had Caitlin cheering up Barry, so in part two we have Barry cheering up Caitlin.

This was my first stab at anything involving Killer Frost and I took a lot of creative license with her powers. In this, she can't control her heat sapping at the current, but it doesn't happen all the time and she's not miserable for any reason other than she keeps freezing things by accident. I know it's not in line with comic-verse but a) I'm not well read in the Flash comic-verse and b) I'm not sure how well that would all work with this premise. Hopefully you guys don't mind! (Also, this was originally written back in February so still far from compliant with our current canon)

Thoughts and suggestions always welcome and appreciated :)

Take Care & Best Wishes,

AOR