Title: Midnight Talks
A/N: So I have a lot of prompts filling up my Tumblr inbox- which I am working on- but this came to me after last nights episode. I mean, how are there not already a bajillion fics about Caitlin staying with Barry? And like I said just a second ago, I do have several prompts in the works but you're always welcome to send me more, either here or on my Tumblr (link in the bio) :]

Barry found her well after midnight, curled up on the middle of his couch, staring out the window. The mug her fingers were curled around, if his memory served him correctly, was the same one he'd handed her hours ago, in the early evening. They'd sat around for hours, just talking about whatever, and she didn't appear to have moved an inch since he'd told her he was going to bed.

Stumbling down the stairs in the middle of the night, half asleep, it had completely slipped his mind that Caitlin was staying with him. He paused for a brief moment, surprised to see that she was still awake.

"Caitlin?" He asked tentatively, not wanting to startle her. She glanced up at him, not looking surprised in the slightest. She'd probably heard him coming. "I didn't think you'd still be up."

With emotionless eyes, she swiveled her head around to look at the clock. Her voice void of conviction, she said, "Oh. It's late."

Barry frowned. "Are you feeling alright? You should be asleep you've got to get up for work tom-"

"Why are you still awake?" She shot back, abruptly cutting him off. Well, Barry thought, at least she was showing emotion now. Even if it was annoyance.

"I just came down for a glass of water," Barry perched on the arm of the couch. "You haven't moved a muscle since at least ten o'clock."

Caitlin shrugged, as if it were normal to sit and stare at nothing for three hours. "I didn't want to go to sleep."

Barry raised an eyebrow at her curiously. He had a lot he wanted to say but he felt that it was in everyone's best interest to let her continue on her own.

A few more breaths passed in silence before, "He's everywhere," an exhale, "If that makes any sense. Which it… doesn't."

Barry didn't respond as she carded her hands through her long curls, fingers bent in agitation. He wondered briefly if maybe she was speaking more to herself than him at that point.

"I just… I go in that room, which isn't even mine so I shouldn't be reacting like this, and I just I see his stupid jacket on the back of the chair or his toothbrush on the dresser and I just…" her hands floated aimlessly in the air for a few moments as she struggled to find the words to convey her thoughts. She seemed to give up though as she sank back into the couch.

"It's okay to miss him," Barry finally spoke, hesitant, not wanting her to curl up back inside her walls again.

She laughed humorlessly, but stopped abruptly. She turned her head sharply to the side, looking him directly in the eyes. "Is it always going to be like this?" she wondered, eyes glassy, voice dry.

"Like what?" Barry prodded gently.

She worried her lip with her teeth for a moment but seemed to remember that he can read all her tells, and stopped. "Just when I finally have him back, he's gone again. God I sound so selfish. I should be grateful. There are people out there that legitimately lost people that night and I'm here worrying about the fact that my boyfriend came back from the dead only to leave again because it's the best thing for him."

The fact that she called him her boyfriend and not her fiancé didn't escape him but, wisely, he didn't comment. "Cait… it's okay to want things for yourself every once in a while."

She stared at him for only a few moments but the seconds seemed to span into years in those moments, each second more meaningful than the last. She ended up being the one to break the eye contact.

"I'm sorry," she said dismissively, abruptly. "I'm being ridiculous."

Her smile was forced and he could tell that she knew he wasn't buying it. She angled her body away from him ever so slightly so she was facing the window.

"I'd just hoped that… for the first time in a while… I wouldn't have to spend the night alone."

And there, at 1:11 in the morning, in the middle of his living room, Barry's heart broke.

"Hey," Barry said, forcing cheerfulness into his tone. "You aren't alone okay?" he slid into the space next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, feeling immensely relieved when she automatically sank into his side. "You're never alone. And you aren't gonna spend the night alone either."

She looked at him, the question evident in her face. "I'm going to stay right here," he told her firmly. "And we're going to stay up all night watching bad movies on TV, or at least until I can make you laugh."

She stared at him for a second, disbelief clouding her face. Perhaps she was waiting for him to tell her that he was just messing with her but he didn't.

"Thanks, Barry," and he knew her well enough to know that the slow smile spreading across her face was genuine.