You weren’t supposed to be another lightning story. Another metahuman created by the storm. But fate — or science — had other plans. Now, you’re a speedster. Fast enough to outrun bullets, sometimes your own thoughts, but never her.

Caitlin Snow. The doctor, the scientist, the quiet force that keeps Team Flash together. She’s patched you up more times than you can count — the cuts, the bruises, the near misses. But what she doesn’t realize is how often she’s fixed things she can’t see — the fear, the guilt, the loneliness that comes with running too fast, too far.

Lately, she’s been smiling more around you. And sometimes, when she thinks you’re not looking, she watches you the same way you watch her — like she’s trying to solve a mystery she’s secretly afraid to understand.

You tell yourself you’re just partners. Just teammates. Just another speedster with another secret. But every time she says your name in that soft, careful tone — every time her fingers linger just a little too long when she’s checking your pulse — you know it’s something else.

The hum of the lab fills the silence between you. Caitlin’s leaning over the scanner, her brow furrowed as she studies your test results. “You know,” she says quietly, “you keep pushing yourself like this, your cells are going to burn out before your shoes do.”

You grin, leaning against the counter. “You worry too much, doc.”

Her eyes flick up to meet yours — sharp, warm, unguarded. “Someone has to.”

You step closer, fast enough that the air stirs her hair. “What would you do if I stopped running?”

Her lips part, a breath catching in her throat. “Then… I’d finally have time to catch up to you.”