[ Caitlin doesn't reply to his last message. There's no need, really, not when she could walk right out of her room and meet him in a minute. She doesn't even bother slipping on shoes; he's that close, and she fully intends on getting him to either go down to the clinic with her or to the privacy of her lab. Or her room. Only to assess his injuries.

(Her room would ultimately be more comfortable, but, as he didn't specify exactly how far behind her he is, she's ready to have options available.)

But sure enough, there he is, sitting on the stairs, cap pulled down over his face. He looks as tired as she feels; he might notice some differences in the Caitlin he last saw back home and the Caitlin who hurries up the stairs to meet him. She's paler than usual, which only makes the dark circles under her bloodshot eyes more prominent. She's also dressed far more casually than she ever had been before Jay's "death." ]

Harry. [ She's happy to see him, despite also being frustrated with him. But he wouldn't be himself if he didn't make her just a little aggravated. ] Let me help you up.

[ The average person might not notice anything amiss, that's true enough. But Caitlin isn't average, despite all of her claims to the contrary. She watches him as he moves, how he holds himself. Mentally comparing it to her memory of him before, noting what seems different. She folds her arms across her chest, not even attempting to hide the fact that she's assessing him.

Strange as it is, it's good to hear him call her Snow again. It makes things feel closer to normal. ]

Come on. [ She tips her head towards the fourth floor. ] I can take a look at that shoulder in my room.

[ Then she takes a step back, flattening herself against the railing. Clearly meaning he should go first because maybe, just maybe, she doesn't trust him to follow her. ]

[ She gives him her best innocent look as he passes, or at least, the best she can muster currently, which isn't much. It isn't a surprise that he knows what she's thinking. ]

Eventually, Harry. Eventually.

[ Once they're on the fourth floor, she hurries to get ahead of him. Look, eventually is right now. As they move down the hall, she stops at number nine. ] Iris. [ And then, at number eleven. ] Barry.

[ She looks at door number thirteen, pulling a face. He needs to know. He should at least be warned. Rather than touch the door, because why invite that trouble, she merely points and mouths Thawne. Then she looks across the hall from Barry's room. ] This is me, number twelve. [ She pushes open the door and takes a step back so he can enter. It looks less like a bedroom and more like an expensive hotel suite: a large king-sized bed in the center, a vanity table across from that, a sitting area and a large desk on the far side of the room, almost tucked away in an alcove. ]

What?

[ She asks that innocently, not really sure what he could be huhing at. Her room conformed to what she needed the most, what she still needs, somehow: comfort. And despite all the plush surroundings, she still looks like she hasn't slept in a day or two.

As she slips off her hoodie, the bruises on her wrists are uncovered, as are the fading-but-still-discolored bruises on her back and shoulders that peek out from under her tank top. The hoodie she hangs on one post of her footboard, doing the same with his coat.

She gestures to the wooden chair at the vanity.]

Sit down. Please.

[ He's about as good a patient as she is

But Caitlin isn't going to complain if he's going to take care of a few initial things for her. Seeing that he's rolling up the sleeve, she very nearly suggests that taking care of whatever it is will be easier if he just took the t-shirt off. It's not as if she hasn't seen him without it; he had worn a whole lot less when she had to care for him after Patty shot him. But she'll hold off for now, wanting to get a look at it first.

The wounds look too familiar. ]

I wasn't going to. [ Her voice is quiet, small. ] Zoom did this.

[ Her expression shifts from concerned to pained. Jay had marks like these when he arrived. No, it was probably a remnant, one that agreed to be injured to better sell the story. ]

How old are these?