#snowestedit

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Iris and Caitlin in season 4

We're more than work friends, and we've been through a lot together. for @fouroct​ <3

“My dad and Cecile are meeting with Judge Hankerson tomorrow to go over the appeal. We’ve been pouring through the evidence piece by piece but ...”

“Frost,” Iris says, watching her hands shake. “Frost. Killer Frost.” Killer Frost keeps balling something in her hands, wringing her fingers over it. Her nail bits, strained, blue, sickly, catch Iris’ gaze, and she remembers the sort of intimate malaise she feels looking at the veins under Frost’s skin. “Caitlin,” Iris snaps. “What’s in your hands?” The tone is more to draw Caitlin out of her revere, but the brief shock does little to quell the forlorn expression plaguing her features. “It’s-“ It’s a paper ball, and she makes an attempt to smooth it, but the creases are inescapable. “It’s me.” The paper had been slightly frozen, now thawed, but the ice left water and smudged ink. Iris offers her hand, and Caitlin procures the paper. “So they’re finally looking for us.” “They’re looking for me, at least,” Caitlin says, with a sad, small voice that is no parts Killer Frost. “See?” She taps her pallid finger against the photo on the paper. “Yeah,” Iris says. “Because you-“ She meets Caitlin’s gaze. “Yeah,” Caitlin says. “Because I.” “Listen,” Iris says, and she takes the paper, only giving it one more cursory glance, the words that read WANTED: INFORMATION ABOUT CAITLIN SNOW before tearing it in half. “This is- This is just what’s going to happen to us, Caitlin. This is how people are going to see us.” She thinks about her father putting up a flyer that says WANTED: INFORMATION ABOUT IRIS WEST and takes Caitlin’s hand in her own before the thought can progress. “I mean,” Caitlin says, and her grip on Iris is tight and pleading. “I did kill… more than one person.” “We haven’t-“ And Iris bites the lie back before it can bloom. They have given up pretenses, they made that decision as a group, blood is blood is blood but it’s not their blood and they have to protect each other. “You need to get used to seeing these kinds of things.” “But that’s-“ Caitlin worries at her lip. “You- Everyone is going to hate us.” “Do you hate us?” Iris asks, very softly, very seriously. “Is that what you’re worried about?” “No,” Caitlin says, and the discoloring of her eyes bores into Iris’ skull. “No. I’d never hate us. You guys- You, you’re the only people that feel like home.” “It doesn’t have to be perfect,” Iris says. She thinks it’s kind of funny that they’re still touching each other so intently, when Iris could kill Caitlin or Caitlin could kill Iris, just with the touch of their hand. Could, but would never. Not to each other. Not ever. “It just has to be ours.” “Ours,” Caitlin repeats. She bows her head, and Iris leans in, kissing the top of her winter-wheat hair. “No one’s gonna tear us apart,” Iris says, and there’s a finality in this. Caitlin accepts this, Iris can tell- And this is what they have. Each other, and this silent acceptance. 

Did she...I...kill anyone?