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“Is this what heaven looks like to you?” Frost asks, glancing around at the house that would be pleasant enough by most people's standards. An idyllic family home Frost never was privy to. It's infinitely better than the first time she visited, surrounded by the static storm that made talking next to impossible, or the following time which was a haze of nothingness. Clearly some things have changed since then with how he's getting on in here.
“Not me. Barry. I'm always in his shadow,” Savitar says with just a little less bitterness than when she last saw him.
She bites her tongue and thinks it could be worse. You could be in his prison.
And she knows she could be in their prison too, locked up in Iron Heights, like Barry saw in the future – a different future now than what seems likely with the changes to the timeline. Their lives are still so incredibly far from perfect but everyone has been spared their original fates. One choice they'd each made that had made all the difference – not just from her and Savitar, but from Barry and Caitlin too. To see the good in themselves even when that was the hardest thing of all for them.
Savitar isn't home and free, but he's not erased from existence and for that she, at least, is grateful. The fix to save him in a more permanent form still isn't forthcoming, but the alternative isn't the worst she could imagine. If only his fake mom could let him move on from the family home that clearly isn't any comfort to Savitar.
“Just be thankful the Speedforce isn't here with her abundant platitudes and mystic BS to top it all off.”
Frost simply nods. Her first instinct is to move for the chintzy couch to sit down next to Savitar who is lounging there, but then she remembers with longing that she can't. It doesn't really exist, unlike her. Savitar watches her carefully and seems to realize her intent, getting up and standing too, so they're on the same footing and also closer in that one movement.
Meeting like this is hardly ideal. For one, Cisco is barely out of earshot, his connection tenuous but necessary because she isn't a speedster. Her powers are the antithesis to this realm, and Savitar is hardly king here, merely tolerated thanks to the stalemate negotiated with Barry. How that resolves depends entirely on the team's ability to follow through on their promises. So far they've upheld those to her, and she hopes - with a secret desperation she doesn't let on to Team Flash - they will deliver on all fronts given time.
She misses him. It feels wrong to think that, to want anything, because she doesn't want to want anyone. Not when something more powerful could take them away at any moment. But he is the first person who accepted her and things feel so much harder without the only support she could fully trust. She can only imagine what it would have been like if he had truly been ripped from her life by the paradox. Distilled down into such short interactions here is bad enough.
The others are starting to warm to her, ironically enough – Cisco offering they could try a visit again today, on Valentine's day of all days. But it isn't the same, to have Caitlin's friends and family co-opted as hers. She selfishly wants something, someone, of her own. And Savitar is that, however broken he may be. He needs her as much as she needs him. Though he barely shows it.
“Are they making progress?”
“They're 'working on it'. Who knows if they're actually going to be good at 'it'-”
“Hey, I heard that! We're saving his ass from being obliterated, so some appreciation would be nice-” interrupts the voice of Cisco, ringing through the house like an odd echo even though he doesn't manifest there. She's not sure if that's because Savitar doesn't want him here.
“Forgive me if I'll save the hallelujah for when you've succeeded,” Savitar deadpans.
Frost ignores their little spat and reaches out to close the distance between her and her partner. Her hand stops short of touching his actual person, even though she knows it isn't exactly him, that the space is only an illusion they maintain. A space they've not crossed before and she can't bring herself to cross here either.
“You deserve better than here,” is what she says instead.
He looks to the side, away from her gaze, in a way that seems so uncharacteristic of him and she worries the isolation is getting to him here. There is a harsh whisper that follows. “You deserve better than this.”
The sentiment feels more unreal for the fact she could have whispered it to him instead, though she would never have held that opinion back, it would be vehement and unapologetic. He does deserve better, just like her. Not relegated to being forgotten and pushed down, and so she pushes back every day for that resolution. How could he not believe it too? That they deserve it, that they deserve a future together. A better reality than they were given, something they forged one way or another – first with fire and ice, and now with an attempt at acceptance and forgiveness. She'd never envisaged it would be with help outside their own, but that matters less and less; she doesn't care what makes it so, so long as it happens.
“I'll be here for you. No matter how long it takes.”
“What if 'it' never comes? What if this is my 'life' now?”
She glances at the surroundings, nondescript, ordinary.
“Who cares where it is, I've seen worse. I put up with our shabby not-so-chic lair, didn't I? You're lucky I'll live so long. You've got me as long as you'll have me-”
”-I'm not gonna bring you here for sex!”
The all too serious moment is broken and Frost laughs because Cisco's interjection is probably just the right kind of levity she needs right then. A reassurance outside what Savitar could give her that their lives will continue, however weirdly they end up together. And after that, she's starting to think Cisco offering to bring her here today was no mistake, that he already knew what they tried so hard to keep a lid on.
“Better work hard, Vibe, so you never have to risk finding out,” she shouts back at Cisco. She feels the insistent tug on her back that means it's time to return to the so much harsher seeming reality in the Speedlab.
“I don't wish you were here” are the somehow tender last words she hears Savitar say, before the cacophony of the true Speedforce overwhelms her as Cisco pulls her back out with him.
She doesn't look forward to the moaning from Cisco about the migraine it will cause, which seems to be part of the cost she pays for this type of favor. She'll go back, no matter what Savitar says - and no matter what Cisco complains about the cost, he somehow can't deny her - but she hopes one day she won't have to. That they'll meet again surrounded by the plainest concrete walls, and the silence of wonder, and the strange buzz of what could be when nothing else holds them back from touching.