I'm hurt, Cait.

Those three little words sent a line of pure dread through Caitlin Snow as she stood in the quiet of her bathroom.

In an instant, she practically dropped her phone and rushed to the front door. The low sound of knocking filled the air as she flipped the locks and grasped the smooth handle, yanking it open to reveal an unsteady and exhausted-looking Barry. He was leaned heavily against the doorframe and fell forward as soon as she did, his arm still poised for a knock.

Caitlin quickly caught him in her arms, his larger frame heavy against her own.

"Sorry, sorry," Barry's hoarse voice apologized as he made a weak attempt to take back his own weight.

Caitlin refused to let him and instead shifted herself around, bracing his arm over her shoulders and wrapping hers around his torso.

"What happened?" She questioned as she began to guide him inside.

"It's my ankle, I think it's dislocated," he ground out as she hauled him over to the couch and slowly lowered him onto the cushions. "The right one. I—I tried to pop it back in myself but I couldn't and I think my speed healing's already kicking in."

Taking the information in, Caitlin quickly closed the door and swiped a nearby ottoman to prop his leg up.

"I didn't know where else to go." There was a pained and helpless kind of look on his pale features.

"You should've called me, I would've come and picked you up," Caitlin scolded gently as she began the delicate process of taking off his shoe and sock. "Did you walk here?"

Barry nodded tightly, wincing a little as she wiggled the sneaker free.

"How far?" She pressed further, her tone becoming firm and her eyes growing wide.

"A few blocks," he admitted sheepishly.

"And exactly how many is a few?" She narrowed her eyes. "Because as far as I'm concern, one is already too many."

He didn't speak for a moment, and Caitlin suspected it was because he was afraid to tell her.

"Seven," he finally said.

"Barry," she blurted out, her voice carrying a chastisement.

"Caitlin," he echoed, putting his hands up defensively.

She gave him a disapproving look and he crumbled in on himself just a bit, his shoulders sagging and his body sinking further into the cushions.

"I mean it isn't exactly like I own a car..." he tried to defend himself, his words barely a mumble.

"You could've called an Uber," she said flatly from where she knelt on the floor in front of him. "Come on, Barry. You know better than this."

"You're right, you're right," he relented weakly, a kind of tiredness about him that told Caitlin he simply didn't have the energy to even pretend to argue.

A silence settled over the room as she began to assess the injury, keeping her touches as gentle as possible.

"You're right, it is dislocated," she eventually spoke, her voice softer now. "It doesn't feel like there's any surrounding fractures or torn ligaments. You got lucky. But I'm going to have to slide it back in and that isn't going to be pleasant."

Barry nodded tightly, already bracing himself for the pain to come.

Caitlin rose to her full height and placed her hand reassuringly on his leg. "I need to go get a few things first, try not to move. Okay?"

He nodded again and Caitlin soon vanished into the depths of her apartment. She reappeared a few minutes later with supplies, a syringe, and the materials for a splint in hand.

Barry regarded her as she began to prep everything, watching as she slipped on a pair of medical gloves and filled the syringe with practiced ease.

"Do you always keep all this stuff at your house?" Barry found himself inquiring, his tone slightly amused.

"How long have you known me?" She glanced at him, quirking an eyebrow.

"Fair point," he replied, a faint laugh bubbling past his lips. "And besides, I guess I should be grateful that you do."

Caitlin made her way over to him and Barry leaned his head back against the couch, letting out a deep and fortifying exhale. She rolled up his shirt sleeve and then sanitized a patch of skin at the bend of his arm.

"This is for the pain," she informed. "I don't have anything here that's powerful enough for your system, but it should take the edge off for a little while."

"Okay," Barry acknowledged quietly as she inserted the needle and pressed the plunger down, the cool liquid sliding into his veins.

He began to feel the effects almost immediately, the pain in his leg dulling ever so slightly. It wasn't much, but it was still a relief that Barry welcomed with open arms.

Caitlin wasted no time as she moved her supplies closer and quickly got into position, placing both hands at precise points on the disjointed foot and ankle. She then looked back up at him, her demeanor instructive and that of practiced and perfected calm.

"I want you to look at me, Barry. Just breathe and look at me."

He complied, taking several deep breaths and willing himself to get lost in her dark eyes. She gave him a look that translated to 'ready?'

He steeled himself and gave her a determined nod.

An explosion of renewed agony shot through him as Caitlin gave his foot a sudden and forceful pull, maneuvering it out and around and back into its original position.

A sharp and pained sound escaped Barry, but it was already over, Caitlin's hands now making quick work of setting the splint around the realigned joint. She had it finished in two minutes flat, the searing pain slowly ebbing into a dull and persistent throb.

After that, she peeled off her gloves and set to work cleaning up the remnants of her supplies.

Barry watched her quietly as she did, his heart rate gradually beginning to slow and his shot nerves calming little by little. There was something oddly soothing about the way she moved about in her own space, something strangely comforting in the way she walked so purposefully, even in her pajamas.

Yet, as serene as it was, the sight before Barry made him ache somewhere deep inside. It brought to the surface some hollow and yearning part of him that wished that he could see that side of her every day.

Barry shook himself from his musings just as Caitlin stepped out of the room to wash her hands. The speedster took the opportunity to wiggle his foot around a bit, trying to get a feel for the splint.

"You know, it already feels better," he found himself calling to her, the faint sound of running water drifting through the apartment.

"Good, that means your powers are doing what they're supposed to. You might even be fine by tomorrow." She leaned back into the doorway after a moment, surprising him. "But only if you keep your leg still," she scolded and Barry immediately stopped the wiggling.

"Will do, Dr. Snow." He cleared his throat awkwardly, suddenly abashed.

He gave a tiny salute with two fingers and Caitlin could only smile and shake her head, crossing her arms as she leaned into the doorframe.

Steadily, Barry pushed himself up off the couch and onto his feet, allowing a moment to adjust his balance.

"I'll even call an Uber this time," he promised, slowly trying to limp his way towards the door.

"Barry, wait a minute." Caitlin's words quickly halted him.

"Yeah," he replied, turning back from the seemingly monumental task he was trying to undertake.

"How—how exactly did it happen?" She inquired, a worried look creeping its way onto her features and making her brow crease in an endearing sort of way.

Barry didn't say anything at first, he just took a breath and raked a hand through his slightly messy hair. It struck Caitlin in that moment just how drained he truly looked.

"Mugging," he eventually told her, glancing back up with tired eyes. "Honestly, he wasn't even a meta. I just messed up. I let his partner get the jump on me."

"Barry, it's almost one in the morning, what were you even doing out?" She found herself asking with equal parts concern and care, taking a few measured steps forward.

"I just couldn't sleep," he tried to shrug it off. "I guess I figured I'd 'patrol' for a bit. See if there was anybody who needed my help."

Caitlin just looked at him for a moment, wearing that critical yet knowing gaze that always seemed to see straight through to his soul. Barry suddenly found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop, trepidation and perhaps a bit of anxiety stirring beneath the surface.

He knew he was spiraling, he just had hoped no one would notice.

"Barry, when was the last time you slept?" Caitlin's gentle voice broke through the silence.

And there it was.

He held her gaze, every last reserve of his resolve and composure slipping away before her eyes.

"Please don't make me answer that, Cait." The words came out far more quiet and broken than he meant for them to. "I honestly can't tell you."

Her eyes softened, an openness and understanding there that Barry wished he could get lost in forever.

"It just...hasn't worked for me lately," he found the courage to continue. "I kept trying and trying, but sleep never seems to come easily anymore so I just...stopped."

"Oh, Barry," she whispered softly, her words almost inaudible.

"I was gonna go to bed early tonight, I really was," he began, almost in an attempt to soothe her. "But as soon as my head hit the pillow I got to thinking about tomorrow and—" he broke off, looking down at the floor.

Caitlin closed her eyes for a moment, wondering how she could be such an idiot. "Right," she suddenly realized, a pit forming in her stomach. "The court hearing."

Barry nodded, almost imperceptibly. "I knew immediately that I wouldn't be getting any sleep anytime soon."

They stood there in silence for a few breaths, Caitlin mentally weighing her options. Eventually, she gave in and decided to throw her better judgment to the wind.

"Come on," she said quietly, reaching her hand out to Barry.

He looked at her with mild confusion, but took it anyway, allowing her to slowly lead him out of the room and down the hall. She directed them into her own bedroom and Barry's bewilderment increased tenfold.

She let him go and moved over to the bed, peeling back the covers and rearranging the pillows.

"Um...Caitlin," Barry mumbled, glancing around the room with no small amount of awkwardness.

"Come on," she prompted, tapping the empty space she had prepared. "I want you to try and sleep again. Please. For me."

"Caitlin, it's okay. Really. I can just go back to my place. I don't wanna impose—"

"Please, Barry," she repeated, stressing her words more this time, her soft doe-eyes pleading. "I'm still your doctor, let me take care of you."

Barry felt every last ounce of his resolve melt away, any fight he had in him disappearing like ashes in the wind.

How on earth was he supposed to say no to those eyes?

"And besides, I'm going to have to check your ankle in the morning anyway," she continued, but he was already sold. "It's better if you don't jostle it around anymore than it already has been."

Barry nodded, slow and wordless, and shuffled his way over to the bed. He sat down carefully and went to work taking off his other shoe. After that, he rid himself of his jacket and any other unnecessary garments, before sliding under the covers and laying his head on the fluffy mass of pillows.

The first thing he noticed was that the blankets were soft, and that they smelled like her.

He carefully got settled in, allowing Caitlin to prop a few pillows beneath his foot to help ease the pain and swelling. She covered him back up, tucking the blankets neatly in place.

"I'll be on the couch if you need anything," she informed tentatively, placing her hand on his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze

She turned to walk away, disappointment washing over Barry as her touch vanished away. Suddenly, impulsively, he found himself reaching out, his fingers grasping the hem of her shirt sleeve.

She turned back, looking at him with both worry and curiosity.

"Please don't go," the words spilled from his lips and his tired mind couldn't bring itself to stop them.

"I mean," he tried to correct, to seem less desperate and needy. "Would you mind staying? Just for a little bit?"

Caitlin's eyes softened and she slipped her hand into his, the pressure solid and reaffirming.

"Of course I will," she assured.

Caitlin quietly walked around to the other side of the bed and turned off the lamp. She laid down carefully and settled herself beneath the large comforter.

Barry breathed out a quiet exhale, weeks of pent up tension seeming to slowly drain from his body. Caitlin's hand drifted back over to him, her fingers sliding between his as though they were made to fit there.

He closed his eyes, the world drifting away as her thumb drew soothing patterns along his knuckles.

...

Caitlin stirred awake the next morning, feeling as though she'd actually slept properly for the first time in months.

She blinked a few times and let her eyes adjust before glancing over at Barry. To her surprise, he was already awake, hazel-green eyes there to greet her in the golden light.

"Hey, good morning," she said softly, suppressing a yawn.

"Good morning," he answered from where he was still nestled under the covers, his voice devoid of any sort of grogginess.

"Did you sleep at all?" She frowned blearily, rolling onto her side to face him.

"I did, actually. I slept really well," he replied, and Caitlin couldn't help but note how much better his color looked. "I only woke up just a bit ago. I was just...thinking," he explained with an almost absent smile.

"That's good, I'm glad to hear that," she spoke with a bit of relief. "How does your ankle feel?"

"It doesn't hurt at all right now," he answered with a tiny shrug, "Honestly, I would have gotten up and made you breakfast as a thank you, but I figured you'd be more upset if I messed with the splint while you were sleeping."

"You were absolutely right," she said, actually yawning that time.

Barry laughed a small, quiet laugh, and Caitlin pushed herself to a sitting position, stretching her stiff shoulders.

She got out of bed and walked around to Barry's side. He sat up and she began the process of taking off the splint, the air feeling cool and fresh to his previously restricted skin. She examined it, rolling and flexing the joint and asking if it hurt every few moments.

The answer was a resounding no. It didn't take her long to clear him for running and the rest of his usual everyday activities. However, she did issue a warning, saying he should at least try to be gentle with it for the next few days.

They migrated to the kitchen after that, working together to whip up a batch of pancake batter. They turned on the radio, laughing, and smiling, and even dancing a little as they cooked, their troubles forgotten for the time being.

Breakfast was served with a side of bacon and orange juice, the soft sound of Vance Joy drifting through the backdrop. They sat down at the kitchen table, Barry's pancakes topped with syrup and banana while Caitlin had hers with strawberries and whipped cream.

Overall, the morning passed in calm contentment, despite the looming shadow that lurked over the hour of 11:00; when the hearing was to begin and documents were to be finalized.

Barry was relaxed and open in a way that Caitlin hadn't honestly seen in quite some time, his smile meeting his eyes as it once had when he was younger and his spirit was lighter.

After breakfast they washed the dishes and tidied up, Caitlin giving his ankle one last look for safe measure. As ten o'clock rapidly approached, Barry reluctantly said that he needed to get going so he could change and get cleaned up before he made his way to the courthouse. Caitlin agreed and helped him gather his things, wrapping him in a tight hug as they drew close to the door.

"And you're sure you'll be okay going by yourself," she said over his shoulder, her words low and careful. "I could call Cisco."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine," he breathed out, a somber look spreading over his features as they pulled away. "This is just something I need to face. And I think it's best if I do it alone."

Caitlin nodded wordlessly, her hand lingering briefly on his arm. They exchanged their goodbyes and Barry turned to leave, but not before promising that he would text her later and tell her how everything went.

She watched him as he walked away, the nagging feeling that refused to leave her alone only growing as he swung the door open.

"Barry," she found herself calling out his name, and he found himself turning back, his eyes instinctively flickering to hers.

"Before you go, can—can you promise me something?" There was an unsteadiness in her words.

"Anything," he vowed softly.

"Remember how you asked me to call you if I was ever scared or unsure?" She took a small step forward, her voice sounding far more vulnerable than she would've liked. "Well, can you promise that you'll call me too if you're ever hurt, or unsure, or just...need someone to talk to?"

He held her gaze, an array of emotions crossing his features as her words sunk in.

"I will," he nodded, and Caitlin did her best to give him a reassuring smile.

"Thank you," he said after a moment, his eyes almost misty.

"For what?" She shrugged lightly. "I really haven't done anything spectacular."

"For everything. For just being who you are. For caring for me." He paused, trying to reign in the emotions that were rapidly coming to the surface. "I'm really grateful to have you, Cait."

"You got it backward," was her only reply.

He smiled at her, eyes all warmth and tenderness and something else Caitlin couldn't quite place.

After that, he walked out the door and closed it behind him, both of them secretly wishing there would come a day when they wouldn't have to say goodbye anymore.