We've made it! Long thoughts below, but for now, enjoy an extra-long chapter.

Enjoy!

Iris' arms were the first around Caitlin when Barry deposited her back in the cortex, and for the first time, Caitlin returned the embrace.

"Thank God," Iris said. "Thank God you're safe."

"She was fantastic," Barry chimed in.

"Everyone was," Caitlin corrected, though her mouth was muffled in Iris' thick hair. Her hair usually smelled like strawberries, but the fruity scent was masked beneath that of sweat. Caitlin wondered how long they had been forgoing showers on her behalf.

"I don't doubt it." Iris pulled away, took Caitlin's face in her hands. The corners of her mouth creased. "You're really cold."

Caitlin's breath hitched. Barry cut in, thankfully, blurting, "Yeah, everyone was great. Cisco's earthquake really did a lot of damage."

"Two thumbs up for effectiveness, two thumbs down for rebound factor," Cisco said. He had collapsed into one of the hospital beds and lying with one arm thrown dramatically over his eyes, blood still leaking down the sides of his face from his nose. "Thorn was a life-saver, literally."

All eyes turned to Canton, who shrugged indifferently. "She may have stepped in when he passed out. The soldiers who got a little too curious were taken care of. Thorn held them off until the police showed up."

The group was moving slowly, almost unconsciously, toward the other empty hospital beds. Barry perched on one and started unzipping the top part of his suit, wincing. He was damp with sweat, that much was visible, and the leather stuck to his skin. Peeling away the front revealed the gashes where the animalistic meta's claws had raked across his chest.

The sight prompted Caitlin to ask, "Are all of the metas safe downstairs?"

Barry nodded. "We should go down to them soon, check up. Most of them are traumatized. And I'm not sure any of them know that this batch of serum is permanent."

Caitlin shuffled to the bed furthest away from the group, quietly pulling herself up onto it as Barry spoke. She felt the shakiness that she usually associated with extreme hunger. She knew that was probably part of it, but it was also a symptom of the adrenaline crash, the remnants of the electricity. She felt wearier than she ever had in her life.

"Permanent?" Iris said. "Eiling succeeded in creating that, then?" When nobody answered, Iris shook her head, defeated. "Well, I guess we should count ourselves lucky that you got out in time, Cait."

"I didn't." Caitlin looked up. Iris, Cisco, and Canton's heads all swiveled her way. Barry's eyes were still cast downward, uncomfortable. "I mean, he didn't...he didn't inject me. But I found the serums, all of the permanent ones, and I found the one meant for me. I got scared and I injected myself."

The silence was profound. On one hand, she didn't think she should move, break the silence in any way. On the other hand, she was too tired to care much anymore. She gathered up her pillow and blankets pressed the ball of them into her chest.

"Where are you going?" Canton said.

Caitlin shrugged, biting back her emotion. "I don't know. I just...I need...space."

Nobody begrudged her that. She half-expected someone to follow her, but the room was as quiet as midnight. She strode out without looking back, afraid her legs would give out beneath her, afraid she would break down then and there.

She didn't go back to the pipeline—she didn't ever want to go back to the pipeline again—instead finding a quiet corner in Cisco's workshop. She didn't know why she was drawn to that particular location; in the vastness of STAR Labs, there were plenty of abandoned rooms and secluded crannies in which she might be able to hide herself. Here, though: here was a room that was filled with things, the opposite of cold and empty, with signs of life spilling over tables and pinned to walls.

She didn't turn on the lights, preferring it dim, but moved through the space as though it were sacred. On her way through, she touched a scrap of material that looked as though it belonged to Barry's costume, a screwdriver, a stack of papers that she soon realized were printed-out articles that Iris had written.

Eventually Caitlin found the ragged old couch that Cisco kept in the back of his workshop. It was truly on the last legs of its life—literally, considering one of the legs was missing and replaced with two thick books. The dark green fabric of the couch sported dark coffee stains, a few loose strings, and enough fade that the color was barely recognizable. It was well-loved, though, as evidenced by how deep the cushions bent.

She knew that Cisco often slept here, when he worked so late on a project that he unwittingly dropped off to sleep, or when he was suffering from a period of night terrors so bad he needed a change of sleeping arrangements from home. She'd found him on this couch periodically, snoring.

She'd sat there too, sometimes, to read or to entertain him while he worked. On more rare occasions, they would set up a projector and she and Iris or she and Barry would sandwich Cisco on the couch after a long day. It was an unconventional arrangement, especially considering they had actual TVs and an actual break room with more seating, but sometimes the ragged couch was all they needed.

She sunk into the cushions now, feeling the warmth that they invariably brought—almost enough warmth that her blanket was unwarranted. With the serum, she wasn't cold, exactly, but something about the illusion of warmth was enough to motivate her. She propped her pillow against the arm of the couch, curled her legs up to her chest, and buried herself in all the comfort she could find. After everything that had happened, not just the past few hours, but the past few months, she didn't want to think. And she didn't have to, not if she could help it. For once, for one night, she wanted to find comfort in not thinking. With one more glance toward the open door at the other end of the room, almost invisible due to how secluded the couch was, she closed her eyes. And, blessedly, the exhaustion was enough to carry her into sleep.

As expected, she startled awake. She couldn't pinpoint why, or what she had been dreaming about, but she felt her heart pounding so fiercely in her chest she thought she must be having a heart attack. She looked down and saw her blue hands, the ice reacting to the fear. Reality in all of its jagged pieces shrieked down at her.

"It's okay."

The voice was another startle. Caitlin's legs were caught up in the blanket, restricted, so she thrashed in an effort to get away.

"Sorry, sorry. I think you were having a nightmare." Cisco raised his hands in surrender. He sat on the other end of the couch, as far away as he could possibly get from Caitlin. He looked as though he had just emerged from sleep as well. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Caitlin gulped in breath, tried to steady herself. The room was still dark, casting everything in gray. It was then that she realized what a mistake it had been to come down to a place without windows. She grasped just how much she disliked the persistent darkness, not knowing the hours. "What time is it?"

"Um." Cisco looked around for his phone.

"Five in the morning." Another voice. Just below Caitlin, on the floor by the couch, Iris lay curled on top of, and within, more blankets. Beside her blinked a groggy Barry, who interjected with a half-cognizant, "Whassamatter?"

"Your, uh..." Cisco nodded uncomfortably at Caitlin's hands. "Your hands. Do you need, uh, help?"

Right. They still glowed blue, frosty. "Sorry," Caitlin said. "No, I can...I can..." Her words trailed off as she concentrated. The familiar panic of the uncontrollable rose within her as she regarded her power, but she kept her breath level. She knew what she was doing. There was no need to—to panic. Gradually, the blue retreated, the frost begrudgingly relenting to her will. "Sorry," she said again.

"No need." Cisco said. "Sorry to barge in on you like this. I know you said you wanted to be alone."

The awakening had definitely been an unexpected one, Caitlin had to give him that. Barry and Iris shuffled on the floor, rubbing at their eyes, wrenched from likely a far deeper sleep than Caitlin had been experiencing. A pink blotch smudged Cisco's cheek where he'd been propping himself up on the arm of the couch.

"It's okay," Caitlin found herself saying. The lack of sleep, and the remnants of the nightmare, disoriented her. "I just wasn't anticipating..."

"We can leave if you want," Iris said. "If you don't want us around."

"Of course I want you around," Caitlin said, her throat burning. "But you need to sleep. You don't have to accommodate me. This isn't...I can handle it on my own. And I don't want to hurt you if...if I have another nightmare."

"Oh, Cait," Barry said. "You're not going to hurt us. You proved that back at the facility. You can control these powers—you exhibited amazing restraint back there. You saved my life."

"I know." Caitlin swallowed.

"And we're all here for you, for whatever you need," Iris said.

"I know," Caitlin said.

Cisco must have seen the way her throat bobbed, the way the tears were starting to leak from the corners of her eyes. "Do you want us to leave?"

She couldn't speak anymore. She just shook her head. Then, when the tears overwhelmed her, she sunk down onto her side. Cisco opened up, abandoning the scrunched-up, defensive posture at the other end of the couch. His hand found her hair as she rested her head upon his leg. She felt Barry and Iris press closer, too, soft in the sleepy dawn. Someone's hand found her knee, rubbing in soothing circles.

She couldn't count how many times in the past months she had cried herself to sleep. Back then, she had known that it was useless—she had known that shedding tears would make no difference to Eiling, that it was a literal cry into a void that did not notice or care. She had been alone on the floor of a gray cell with no inkling of what the outside world looked like, no hope that anyone cared enough to keep looking for her.

While she drifted off to sleep now, the sobs did not feel better. But they did, at least, feel different.

"I may have burnt the eggs a little."

"By a little, do you mean..."

"Cisco, this is why we should have let my dad cook."

"Easy." Cisco brought the pan of scrambled eggs closer to his chest protectively. "I made these with the heat of a hotplate, okay? It's hard to control the temperature. And I was distracted."

"By the bacon, which is also burnt, by the way."

Cisco looked mock-offended a moment more, setting the pan down on the table and breaking the levity only briefly to glance at Caitlin. She didn't participate in the banter, leaving all of it to Iris and Barry and Cisco, too intent on munching on a piece of plain toast. Iris had insisted she start off with the bland foods, so as not to upset her stomach, but she wasn't complaining. Miraculously, it was the one thing it seemed Cisco had not burned.

"Just because you all left the cooking up to me doesn't mean you get to criticize all of it," Cisco reprimanded. "Who wants coffee?"

"Is it as black as this bacon?"

"I swear—"

Caitlin managed a smile, setting down the half-finished toast to reach for her glass of water. It technically wasn't even breakfast-time. While she'd drifted in and out through the night, even taking to wandering the halls in one period of insomnia, she hadn't truly woken up until midday, and it seemed the rest of the team was just as sluggish. They all had needed the night to begin healing.

Still, perhaps in an effort to make things feel as normal as possible, Cisco had taken it upon himself to declare it a "good morning" when Caitlin finally emerged from her stupor and had wildly suggested a team breakfast. It had taken longer than anticipated to get ready. Caitlin moved slowly, stiffly, without speaking much. A well-intentioned shower turned into ungraceful panic attack; it landed her a humiliating rescue by Cisco and another hour on the couch.

"Go ahead, I'll be fine," she'd told a concerned Iris, who had been the first to check on her after the incident. "Eat without me."

They hadn't. Well, she had a sneaking suspicion that Barry might have, what with his metabolism, but he was among the shining and eager faces to greet her again when she managed to heave herself to the cortex.

She sat at the head of their impromptu breakfast table now, cross-legged in her chair, constantly trying to make herself as small as possible but finally allowing herself to bask in the glow of normalcy her friends were making such an effort to project.

"Do you want anything else?" Barry asked between bites of scrambled eggs. "Juice? Milk? I can run and get hot chocolate, or, or…"

"This is more than enough," Caitlin said. "Really. Thank you."

Barry nodded, and three more pieces of bacon disappeared from their skillet.

Caitlin flinched when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned, hugging herself, to see Canton striding into the cortex.

"Are you going to join us for breakfast?" Cisco asked cheerily. It seemed that all ill will toward Canton and Thorn had disappeared over the past three months; or, at least, since they'd saved his life the night before.

However, Canton just looked at him. "It's three in the afternoon," she deadpanned. Her gaze shifted to Caitlin. "How are you holding up, Snow?"

Caitlin gave a small shrug. Canton's chin dipped in understanding.

"That's alright," she said. "You'll manage. I know you will. And, hey, now that you have powers, maybe you'll join this silly band of costumes."

"Um." Caitlin rubbed the back of her neck, self-conscious. "Yeah. Maybe."

"Speaking of teams," Canton continued, "I need to be taking off. The metas are waiting downstairs."

At Caitlin's confused look around the table, Barry stepped in. "Sorry, you were asleep when we worked all of this out. Most of the metas in Eiling's care were early in the…process. They are stuck with these powers, and they're traumatized. Canton's going to manage their rehabilitation."

Canton shrugged. "Just try to get them back on their feet. Kind of like you did with me. I've been talking with them all day. Some want to get back to normal, but some have expressed interest in doing good with the powers they've been given." She looked meaningfully at Caitlin. "Street superheroes led by Rose and Thorn. What a terrible idea." But, past it all, Caitlin could see the pride. The purpose.

Caitlin untucked her legs and stood clumsily from her chair to fully face Canton. However, once she was standing, she didn't quite know what to do—a hug seemed too personal, a handshake too formal. So she stood, gulping, the distance between the two of them shorter than it had ever been.

"Thank you," she said.

Canton frowned. "For what?"

"I don't know," Caitlin admitted. "Just…everything."

She could've sworn Canton's eyes softened with emotion, just for a moment, but it was gone. The once-criminal cocked a smile. "Never would've guessed it, Snow. But here we are. I've got a lot to make up for, but I'm going to do the best I can with what I've got. I suggest you do the same." Finally she broke gaze and took in the entire group. "See you on the other side."

"Be careful," Iris offered.

Canton scoffed. "Like you'd know what that's like." A final nod, a fleeting, gracious smile, and she was out the door.

Caitlin took a seat again, folding her hands nervously on the table. "You didn't tell me that Canton was going to be taking all of Eiling's prisoners under her wing."

"Sorry, we discussed it late last night and this morning," Iris said. "Are you okay with that? We weren't sure if you—if you would want to be a part of that."

Caitlin considered it a moment, but she knew the answer already. "I think I need to work on putting myself back together first," she said. "I trust Canton's ability to help these people heal."

"That's what we figured," Cisco said. "You should've seen her these past few months. Oliver would be so proud of her vigilantism. I think she could do some real good with a team of street-level metas, if they're willing. Picking up some of the cases we don't catch."

"You just want to give them all superhero names, don't you?" Iris teased.

"The thought never crossed my mind." Cisco kicked up his feet onto the table, but Iris swatted them away.

Caitlin continued picking at her toast. The cortex grew strangely quiet as everyone continued to munch on their breakfast. The afternoon light streaked through from the high windows, warm and golden. Caitlin blinked slowly, heavily.

"Do you need to rest again?" Barry said. "We can clear all of this out."

Drawn out of her reverie, Caitlin straightened, shook her head vigorously. "No. Just…thinking."

As an experiment, almost a thoughtless impulse, she reached forward and brushed her fingers over her water glass. The frost surged, excited, through her blood toward her fingertips. She directed it, reigned it in just enough. The water did not freeze, but chilled.

It was only when Caitlin looked up from her test that she registered all of the stilled, maybe-terrified faces turned her way. She blinked, her jaw working.

"Sorry," she said.

Cisco was the first to jump back into action. "I've been thinking," he said. "I realize a power-suppressing serum is probably not the best idea, but I think I can translate the idea into some kind of technology. Like the Boot, but more stylish. Power-suppressing bracelets, or something."

But Caitlin shook her head. "No," she said. "I don't think I need to do that. I don't…want to do that. These powers are a part of me now. I can't…I can't lock that up anymore. Or pretend like it's not there."

Cisco's eyes crinkled in the beginnings of a smile, but he looked back down at his eggs. "Maybe a costume, then."

Iris rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, too. "Give it a little time, Cisco."

Despite the good cheer around the table, Caitlin sobered. She chewed the inside of her cheek a while before saying, "I did a lot of damage. I killed people." When all three of the others began to interject, she continued, "I know I was brainwashed. But those people are still dead. And some of the metas in the pipeline—I may have been used to torture some of them."

She'd seen the look on the man's face when she'd opened the door to rescue him. You're her. You're Killer Frost. She remembered, too, everything that had come before, beginning with a day ages ago, when she'd poisoned Rose Canton in the middle of a police station in order to save her friends.

"It's getting harder to follow my own advice," she confessed, swiping at a tear. "Eiling always said that I was like ice. That I would break before I would bend. And now that I'm broken, I'm not quite sure how to put myself back together like before."

Iris reached across the table for her, though she didn't reach back. "I think the first step is realizing that things aren't going to be like before. It's just a new piece of the puzzle you'll have to fit in, somehow. What Eiling did to you…it's unspeakable. But Killer Frost is dead now."

"No," Caitlin corrected suddenly. "Killer Frost is alive. She just has a name now."

Quiet, quiet. A monitor flickered, briefly, a muted map of the city on a cracked monitor. So much of this lab was broken, but the worst had been swept up during the night. Only a few traces remained of her rampage from the other day. Already it seemed like an eternity ago.

An eternity ago, also, was Jason—Jason, who still lurked at the edges of her anxiety, who had somehow, improbably, started it all.

Your accident created abominations that have unchecked power to cause calamity.

"I'm going to need some time," Caitlin stated plainly. "I don't think I can just step back into old routines. I'm not going to become some instant superhero. I need time to rebuild."

"And we'll give it to you," Barry said brightly. "A lot of people in your position wouldn't be sitting here right now. You're doing so well already."

Caitlin offered a wet laugh. "I can't even shower without breaking down."

"We'll put up with the smell," he said faux-valiantly.

"You take all the time you need," Cisco reassured. "You lost months of your life."

"We'll be there every step for you," Iris said. "To rebuild."

Caitlin blinked upward against the tears, unable to look at any of them. Her eyes traced a fracture along the ceiling of the lab. Even though it had undoubtedly been there for years, a remnant of the explosion, she had never noticed it until now. This room was so bright—and, more importantly, warm—and she could see so much more now that she looked skyward.

Harrison Wells had once waxed poetic about how they were creating a future, creating good. He'd said as much just before the particle accelerator sent its dark matter rippling through the city, creating metahumans; creating the crack in the ceiling; creating, through a series of inexplicable events, the moment in time she found herself in now.

Perhaps they hadn't created good. But they hadn't created evil, either.

"I'll take some eggs," she said finally, quietly. She tore her eyes away from the ceiling, the tears streaking into her hair, and met Cisco's startled gaze levelly.

"Are you sure?" he said, glancing sideways at the suspicious-looking pan of scrambled eggs. "I can make some better ones. These are a little burned."

"They're perfect." And her smile came a little easier.

Wow, it's done! I'm really bad at these end notes and I am unbelievably sappy, so I'll try to keep it brief:

Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to keep writing, to keep expanding this series, to explore places I was nervous to explore. Hedgi, Fern, PaperKatla, my idea-bouncers. Those of you who inexplicably stayed through a three-part series, and, what's more, took the time to comment and send messages that make me giddy. Thank you for being so generous with your time and your ideas.

I'm not sure what the future holds for my fanfiction, but you have been such a wonderful source of encouragement for my writing, wherever it goes from here. I'm so happy and proud to have this series completed, in no small part because of you all. I cannot adequately express my gratitude for everything you have given me. Through intense periods of frustrations, fears, and self-doubts, you were there with a positivity that never failed to surprise me.

If you want to chat further, find me on Tumblr at pennflinn. Goodbye for now, and happy holidays to everyone!

Till next time,

Penn