riverviewlogs | introductory mingle: MEMORIA

Entry tags:

introductory mingle: MEMORIA

who: everyone in Riverview!
what: Introductory Log and Memoria Commemoration
when: May 1st - May 8th
where: Anywhere around the city.
warnings: please put any necessary warnings in the subject lines

memoria

In the days leading up to May 1st, residents new and old will notice preparations beginning, a flurry of activity getting the city ready for the upcoming celebration: Memoria. A more solemn celebration than Sampremi or the Flower Festival, Memoria is a week-long time of remembrance for those lost in the Great War and the epidemic that decimated Riverview Quarantine's population 10 years ago. Memoria traditions include lighting lanterns for the dead, telling stories about lost loved ones or lost homes, eating meals with loved ones, and a special gathering to send floating lanterns down the river in honor of those lost.

a solemn commemoration of those lost

While the main city-wide event associated with Memoria is the floating of lanterns down the river on the evening of May 8th, the holiday is generally seen as a time of reflection on and appreciation of things that have been lost - people, homes, cultures, and planets. It is also a celebration of the things that remain. Many locally-owned shops will host displays of culturally-significant food, and will hand out informational flyers sharing the unique customs of their own homeworlds. There is a heavy emphasis on sharing time with family, friends, and lovers, and anyone who is able to will cook meals or treats for loved ones, or at least purchase them something good to eat.

i. hanging lanterns

Throughout the entire week of Memoria, residents will be hanging lanterns around the city. Lanterns are generally placed in greater number in places of passage - streets, bridges, and all alongside the train lines are particularly well-decorated, as are any trees alongside paths, and most homes and businesses have a profusion of lanterns around their doors and windows. This tradition is twofold; some people believe that the lanterns are hung in these places in order to guide the spirits of the dead back to those who still love them, other people believe that the lanterns are to give light for living loved ones to find their doors in times of darkness...many people believe both.

No matter what your character might believe, you can be sure they will find themselves offered a lantern for free from various businesses or friendly citizens passing by, and invited to hang it before the sun sets, or they may be handed a bundle of lanterns and asked to help share them with others.

ii. sharing life

Throughout the city, characters will find groups of people gathering to share hot drinks and talk about their loved ones lost, their homes and planets, or their experiences during the Great War and the epidemic. Anyone who has lost someone, who has fought to survive, who is feeling cut off and homesick, is welcome to sit and share their story. If your character chooses to sit and to share their story, they will find that people will gather to listen, will generally be respectful of the telling, and may share their own similar experiences in return. This is an excellent time to air grief in an environment where most people understand and respect grief, and a good time to deepen the connections to others around you, to understand them better.

There is also a very large focus on cooking or purchasing meals or treats for loved ones during Memoria, with many people taking meals with everyone they care about during the week of the holiday. Some go the extra mile and will hand out baked goods (usually chocolate or cinnamon), packets of candy, or other little treats to acquaintances, especially if they would like to form a closer bond with them. This is a great time for characters to reach out to someone they would like to get to know better with a surprise treat!

iii. floating of the lanterns

On the evening of May 8th, just before sundown, many of the city's residents will head toward the banks of the river, where they will light lanterns in a wide variety of shapes, sizes, and colors, in honor of their dead loved ones. The types of lanterns vary wildly, based on personality (either of the person floating it or the person they are honoring), culture, and many other factors. Some lanterns are very simple, others are incredibly complex, but the one common feature they all have is that people write on the shades of them - they write about their feelings for their loved ones, their wishes for their relationships and friendships, a memory from childhood or home, or even just lines of poetry or lyrics from songs that express something they miss, or something that hurts them.

Once those emotions are written on the lanterns, the lanterns are set free, floating down the river in the darkening evening, in a cathartic gesture shared by most residents of the city. Waves of lantern floating will start around 7 pm and continue until the sun rises on the morning of May 9th.

iv. roommates or wildcard

Feel free to use this prompt to set up headers for a communal floor, or threads open to roommates for the purpose of getting to know each other. Or if you have an idea for a prompt that isn't in this list, set during Memoria, feel free to write it up!

visual inspiration

click on thumbnails for larger view

Credit: image i: glowconcepts, image ii: by trenchmaker, image iv: cherryorange; image iii: found uncredited on Pinterest - please let the mod know if you find credit!

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[On the heels of all the happy, celebratory holidays since he'd arrived in Riverview, this seems a little bit like a downer. It wasn't what he was expecting at all, and it's dredging up a lot of stuff Eddie doesn't particularly want to deal with. The best way of coping that he's found so far is to get a spiked cinnamon hot chocolate and wander around sipping it, listening to other people's stories. It's always been easier for him to listen to other people, to empathize and focus on other people's problems to get his mind off his own.

So he's spent a lot of time doing that, trying not to dwell. The last thing he'd expected, though, was to run into someone from home telling a story, which is exactly what happens when he moves into the fringes of a small group all settled together, and sees Cisco sitting there, looking into his cup and speaking. Cisco's voice is a lot more hesitant, more somber than he's used to hearing from the younger man, and it only takes a moment for Eddie to decide to stay.

Sipping from his cup, he slips into the edge of the group and listens, his eyes trained on Cisco. Almost immediately, that description makes it clear who Cisco is talking about, because Eddie had heard most of the story - Ronnie Raymond, Caitlin's fiancé, who he'd attended the wedding of just before he died. Something in his gut sinks when he hears that Ronnie had truly died, it explains a lot about Caitlin and how she'd acted since he met her here.

So, despite how many questions immediately rise up, he keeps his mouth shut. Cisco will likely be answering them in just a few minutes.]

[ Cisco doesn't see Eddie in the crowd; the only way he can keep himself going is to keep his eyes averted, to focus as little as he can on the people around him, though there are occasional reminders he can't ignore: a quiet cough, some movement in the corner of his vision as someone crosses their legs, the soft sound of someone sipping their drink.

He talks about that first time, with the accelerator. Promising he'd give Ronnie two minutes and then shut the door. His watch going off, and him doing what he'd promised. Ronnie might not really have died that day, but this festival is all about grief, and he'd carried that grief and guilt for a long time, and in silence. ]

And even though- he didn't die that day... the more I think about it these days, the more it seems like it really is my fault. If I hadn't shut that door, Ronnie wouldn't have gotten his powers. And if he hadn't had powers, he wouldn't have died closing the singularity.

[ Cisco pauses, clearing his throat. He is trying, hard, to keep going. To keep the rising tide of grief contained enough that he can finish his story. He doesn't seem to realize how nakedly the sadness shows on his face; how even if no tears are falling from his eyes they are audible in his voice, that the tip of his nose and around his eyes have gone a bit red. Cisco goes on: ]

A bunch of stuff happened and... there was a black hole opening up above the city. It would've killed all of us, and he knew that. Not just me, and my friends, but everybody in the city. Maybe the whole planet, who knows. So he sacrificed himself. Flew right up to it and did what he had to. And- and before he went I couldn't even make myself say goodbye because I just- I knew. I knew he wasn't gonna make it out.

[ Cisco pauses, drinks a little of his drink. There is a kind of catharsis in it - being able to say all this to these people who had never met Ronnie, who won't be expecting excuses about how he knows it was worse for Caitlin than him and he shouldn't complain. Without worrying about secrecy or anyone else's feelings. Just... the truth. ]

I don't even remember what my last words to him were. Maybe it was... maybe at his wedding? He'd just gotten married. Like... just that morning. I think I might've said congratulations. Pretty ironic last thing to say to someone, if you ask me.

[ He looks up, finally, to see if there are any bitter smiles in the audience to match his own. Which, of course, is when he recognizes Eddie, and he falls completely silent. ]

[There's something about listening to the story that feels like sitting at the beach while the tide rolls in, not moving but feeling the water surging against him, washing over him, knocking him back. At first it's sympathy for Cisco, hearing the backstory about Ronnie in the explosion at STAR Labs that he hadn't really known in any detail before.

The worst of it starts to dawn on him when Cisco says 'a bunch of stuff happened' and explains the singularity. Explains that Ronnie had sacrificed himself, done what he had to do, that he hadn't had a chance to say good-bye. For a moment, Eddie manages to convince himself that it has nothing to do with him - not everything has to do with him, not everything is his fault, he doesn't have to take responsibility for everything, who knows when it had happened. A bunch of stuff is always happening at STAR Labs.

But he knows it in his gut before Cisco even gets to the last few words, grief written raw all over his face, his nose and eyes red, having to stop to take a sip of his drink so his voice doesn't crack. Knows that that grief has something to do with the day Eddie died, and when Cisco says Ronnie died only a few hours after his wedding, the tide of empathy turns into a tide of guilt. It takes him a few moments for his mind to catch up to his instincts, for him to register why he feels guilty, to consciously acknowledge that the 'bunch of stuff' had been his death, that the singularity everyone had been talking about in hushed tones had happened.

At first, for one moment, he thinks maybe it was Barry's fault. Maybe it had been his trip back in time that had done it. But he knows that's not true, because he'd seen Barry come back, had heard Ronnie and Caitlin over the intercom as they'd run to stop whatever was causing that problem. He might not know the intricate scientific details of it, but he understands that what caused the singularity that Cisco is talking about had probably been his death. If Barry going back in time to save his mom could've caused such a big problem, it registers that what Eddie had done could certainly have done something worse.

He hadn't thought about it in that moment. It hadn't clicked as clearly as knowing that he had to die to stop Eobard, that it was the only way to save all of them. It hadn't registered, all the things that his choice could cause. Stein had told him he was an anomaly, that he got to choose his own future.

And choosing to end his own future had ended Ronnie's too. Eddie had killed Ronnie, only a few hours after his wedding.

Part of him registers that Cisco is looking at him, but his ears are ringing and his head feels light with shock and he freezes, like a deer in headlights, incapable of moving. Then, suddenly, moving is all he wants to do, and he exhales heavily, realizes he's dropped his drink and spilled it down the legs of the person in front of him only when that person turns and talks at him in an alien language that he can't understand aside from the angry, hurt inflection.]

I'm sorry.

[He says it abruptly, his voice chokes off, and he struggles to breathe for a moment.]

I'm sorry.

[Choking it out again, he turns, eyes abruptly hot and vision blurry, and ducks his head, hunches his shoulders, starts to speedwalk back toward the apartments.]

[ Cisco is distantly aware of the people around them noticing that there's something different about this pause, following his gaze to Eddie, who looks shell-shocked. His face is so white Cisco almost doesn't recognize him. He drops his drink, and that's when Cisco knows he's been there for a while, that he was listening.

His heart is racing but he is frozen, can't seem to speak or move. Cisco watches as Eddie apologizes to the person who got splashed by his drink, as he turns away and bolts. Cisco remains frozen. Somehow, he senses it - this isn't just a moment, but a Moment. A decision that is going to have an impact on his life, and Eddie's, too. Does he let Eddie go, let him have his privacy? Or does he follow?

Cisco is a scientist, and there are many situations where he thinks through the logic of his choices before taking action. But right now, he acts entirely on intuition. His heart, his guts, some internal organ is telling him that he cannot, under any circumstances, let Eddie go off alone right now.

So he gets to his feet, dizzy, ears ringing, not even hearing the questions and protests of the people around him. Then he is running, hair flying behind him as he chases after Eddie. Even running, it takes a little bit of time weaving around people to get within earshot, and then he says, voice raw but unmistakable: ]

Eddie! Eddie, wait!

[ Cisco shoves past a knot of people much more rudely than is his custom, coming close enough to catch Eddie by the sleeve of his shirt and latch on. He pants to catch his breath, gasps out: ]

I didn't- see you- there- before when- I was- when I was-

[The intention was to walk back to his apartment so he could bury himself in his bed for a bit and then change and go to the gym. The intention was somewhere in him, but it's gone now, lost under the instinctive desire to simply move until he's outrun the shellshocked pain. He's not sure where he's going, just that he's moving, his chest rising and falling too quickly, his heart beating too fast, his mind racing so quickly that he can't actually follow his own thoughts consciously.

Barely able to see, vision blurry, he keeps moving, weaving between people, trying to get physically away from the source of the distress in him that he can't even mentally verbalize to himself. Can't put in words. Everything is a jumble inside him, and it takes Cisco calling him a few times before he even registers his name, it takes a few more moments before he can wrangle himself into stopping. In the end, it's Cisco's hand clutching at his sleeves that makes his feet stop moving.

Turning, he blinks repeatedly and tries to listen to what Cisco is saying, his thoughts a jumble, twisting and turning at a frantic pace, and he swallows hard. Tries to focus.]

It's okay.

[It comes out of him unbidden, blurted, and he shakes his head, forces a smile that probably looks ridiculous with his eyes red and his breath obviously coming at breakneck speed, too fast and too shallow.]

I mean, I'm fine, it's okay, I just didn't realize...Ronnie...you know...

[For a moment, he has to stop, he chokes a little on his words, before he can take a deep breath, hold it, his lips twitching just a little.]

I'm sorry.

[ The moment he sees Eddie's face, Cisco is profoundly glad he'd made the choice he did. It's not even that there are tears on his cheeks, or that his expression is contorted or miserable. Instead there is a kind of blankness, a lost look that is somehow a thousand times worse. Not as bad, though, as when Eddie tries to make himself smile. It's awful; the straightest whitest teeth in the world wouldn't make Cisco believe in that smile.

Eddie's breaths sound thin and it sinks in that this might be even worse than he'd thought. Cisco had never seen Eddie like this. Not even right after they'd found him under the pipeline. Not after Reverse Flash had attacked during their failed trap; not after Barry had attacked him while he was under the influence of Bivolo.

He doesn't let go of Eddie's sleeve. ]

No offense, Eddie? But it's super obvious that you are really really not fine right now.

[ Maybe not the most tactful way to put it, but Cisco isn't thinking through his words carefully. He's still hurtling along the emotional rollercoaster that had started with talking so openly about Ronnie's death.

Ronnie. ]

You didn't know he died.

[ It's not a question; Cisco is just speaking aloud the revelation that had come to him. That's why Eddie is so upset: hearing about Ronnie's death. But a moment later, he is confused again. Eddie hadn't known Ronnie. Not well. Not even a little, in fact. Sure, he'd met Ronnie, knew who he was, had even been to his wedding. But Cisco doesn't think they'd actually ever had a conversation. So why does Eddie look like he's about to burst into tears? ]

I'm the one who should be apologizing. I didn't mean for you to find out like that.

[ Maybe it was the parallel to his own life - Eddie thinking about Ronnie's wedding, his own engagement to Iris... maybe that's the key. Maybe. Cisco isn't sure. Might as well ask. ]

Why'd you run away?

[Most people would probably give in after being called out like that - admit they're not feeling okay, say what the problem is, open up. But Eddie doesn't know how to verbalize what's going on in his mind, isn't sure if he wants to or is able to verbalize it. So he drops the fake smile and swallows hard, but doesn't say anything, just quietly looks at Cisco while the younger man guesses at what's wrong, his voice choked up in his throat, too much to speak through.

Cisco doesn't let go of his sleeve, doesn't let him go so he can run away again without having to explain this, because Cisco's guesses are all just slightly off-base, he's not making accusations. Not placing blame for Ronnie's death, something that Eddie can tell must've hurt him terribly, judging by the look on his face, and that means that Cisco can't have put it together yet. Eddie doesn't know how, but somehow, Cisco has not realized that this is his fault.

Exhaling heavily, Eddie tries to make his brain function, but it's like trying to swim through molasses.]

I didn't. I don't...

[Eddie swallows hard, licks his lips anxiously, his eyes flicking down to Cisco's hand on his sleeve, then back up to Cisco's face.]

Why are you apologizing? It's fine. I just...

[Another swallow.]

It's my fault, isn't it? The singularity?

[ Cisco sees Eddie's gaze go to his hand, but he doesn't let go. If he wanted to, Eddie could no doubt get free. He was a police officer, and Cisco isn't exactly a weakling, but he's an engineer. He's a behind-the-scenes guy. He fights with the power of his mind. But Eddie doesn't pull free, and eventually, he makes the words come out to explain.

And then Cisco sees what must have happened. He hadn't been giving Eddie enough credit, and hadn't been thinking what it must all look like from his perspective. If he'd heard Ronnie died the day of his wedding, well, hell, Eddie had been at that wedding. Even if he'd died before Ronnie, it didn't take a genius to piece together that Ronnie's death had followed close on the heels of his own. And they'd both watched Eobard disintegrating into the air - the fabric of reality being rewritten by Eddie's choice.

It takes a moment or two to do that catching up, and then there is an awkward, pregnant silence between them. ]

It wasn't anybody's-

[ Cisco starts and then stops again, abruptly. It's the safe answer, the one he jumps to as a tool to smooth out the situation. But is it the truth?! No. And he has a feeling Eddie will see that right away. So he gives up, and gnaws at his bottom lip. The truth. He will just have to tell the truth. Hard as it is to talk about. Cisco's voice is a touch raw as he says, quickly: ]

Not only you.

[ Cisco has never seen Eddie this nervous, and he can't imagine how weird it must be, hearing about this stuff that happened after he died. Feeling like maybe he almost destroyed the world. That's some heavy shit. ]

Not even mostly. It was mostly because of what Barry did. Running back in time like that was like - I guess it was like tearing a hole in the fabric of reality. Like a really big hole. And when he came back it was like that hole to closed up, but not properly. It woulda, if it had had time. But the way it happened it was just like somebody stuck a piece of regular old scotch tape on it. So... so when you... what you did, it tore the tape off, and the hole Barry had made was still there. And... that became the singularity.

[It isn't a consideration of whether he could break free from Cisco's grasp that has Eddie glancing at the way Cisco's hand stays on his shirt sleeve - it's something else. It's the fact that Cisco hasn't let go of him yet, that he hasn't dismissed him and walked away. The guilt is so thick in him he could cut it with a knife, but somehow, it feels like Cisco hasn't gotten the message that Eddie is a failure at having saved people, that he's the one to blame for the loss of someone Cisco obviously cares a lot about.

By the time Cisco cuts off his own argument that it wasn't anyone's fault, Eddie is already shaking his head. Ears ringing, he tries to comprehend that Cisco is trying to brush off his involvement in the whole thing. It feels more right when Cisco gives in and goes in a different direction, Eddie squares his shoulders and his jaw goes tight, preparing himself. But Cisco's response is only to say that it was mostly Barry's fault, and that what Eddie had done only exacerbated an existing problem. Brows furrowed, he exhales heavily, tries to catch his breath, and shakes his head.]

Still my fault. It would've been okay if I hadn't...I just couldn't...

[Licking his lips nervously, he forces himself to make eye contact with Cisco, just for a moment, before speaking again, his voice tight and his breath shallow.]

I still tore the tape off. It was me who killed him, not Barry. Just...just admit it. I failed. I tried to fix things, and I failed, and I killed him.

Hey... Eddie.

[ Cisco's heart is beating much too fast, and time seems to be going too slow. He has never seen Eddie like this, and he doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know how to fix this. He spares himself just a single moment for regret, and guilt, and self-blame. If he hadn't been talking his fucking mouth off in public where he could be overheard, he could have explained all this to Eddie in a gentler way, in a way that wouldn't leave him looking wretched and heartbroken.

He's worried now, to push too hard, to cross lines, to say the wrong thing. But when Eddie says it would have been okay if it weren't for him, that's where Cisco draws the line. ]

No. Just- just no, okay. Look, it- he was gonna- [ Cisco lets out a short breath, tries again. ] It most certainly would not have been fucking okay. Like I really... I hate that you died. I can't stand thinking about it. But if you hadn't done what you did, Dr. Wells would've killed Barry. And Joe. And Iris and Caitlin and- and me, again. And who knows, maybe a ton of other people, too, you saw how he was. You think he was just gonna stop?

[ Cisco can hear his own voice shaking now, but he doesn't care. He sees the people near them giving them a wider berth, and they're making a scene in public but that doesn't matter. What matters is stopping Eddie from talking about himself in that tight, clipped way, with so much pain in his eyes. ]

And hell, for all we know, the singularity would've gotten opened up by him killing Barry. I mean, he'd come back in time in the first place because of Barry in the future, right? So the singularity would've happened anyway, and there wouldn't have been a Flash to help stop it. Ronnie didn't do it on his own.

[ Finally, Cisco lets go of Eddie's arm, but it's only so he has two hands to run through his hair, pushing it back. ]

So... just no. I'm not gonna admit shit that isn't true.

[ Then, without prompting, Cisco hugs Eddie, sudden and tight. Acting on intuition, again. ]

[The truth is, Eddie doesn't really know what to do either, doesn't know where he thinks he's going, how he expects to escape from this. There's a strange shaky fear in him, like he's on the verge of losing control, losing his grip on something - his emotions, maybe, his sanity. Like if what Cisco is saying is true, it revokes the heroism of what he'd done, and that heroism is the only barrier holding back the intense, heavy waves of grief over himself and his own death. Like being a hero, saving them, is the only thing that makes his short, pathetic life worthwhile, and if Ronnie had died because of him, that means he is not a hero.

And then Cisco is interrupting him, rejecting his assertion that he'd failed, that what he'd done had been for nothing. Eddie has always been a logical man - that's why he'd gone into police work, become a detective, and excelled at it. Logic is how his mind works, it's natural, and what Cisco is saying is logical, it makes sense. And if it makes sense, then Cisco likely isn't lying to spare his feelings. Something about that cuts through the panic, the fear of the overwhelming emotion that's threatening to break through his restraint.

For a moment, he's quiet, watching Cisco as he pushes his hands back through his hair, and finally says he's not going to admit shit that isn't true. Eddie chokes a little, a noise that's halfway between a laugh and a sob, and he doesn't have the time to respond before Cisco's suddenly hugging him. At first, he's a little stiff, caught off guard, but a moment later, the emotional clout of it hits him along with the logical.

Cisco's arms are warm and surprisingly strong around him, and Eddie slumps a bit, tilts his head and buries his face into Cisco's neck, eyes squeezing shut, his arms coming up to close around him. A few shuddering breaths, and the pressure starts really coming off, Eddie is left trembling slightly, overwhelmed.]

I'm sorry.

[It's soft, and tight, but it's all he can get out.]

[ It's a bit of a surprise, that Eddie doesn't remain rigid, that after a moment or two the tension seeps out of him and he hides his face, breathing hard and shaking a little. But Cisco takes it in his stride: he keeps hold of Eddie and asks, voice soft: ]

You, uh- You talked to anyone about it?

[ There's a risk of hypocrisy here, and a risk of scaring Eddie away. Cisco knows that. How many times had he had similar conversations to this with Caitlin and Barry about their problems, and they never heeded his advice. Still... the intensity of Eddie's reaction is worrying him. A lot. So he presses on. ]

Not about Ronnie, I mean, obviously not you only just heard. I mean about... you. About dying. Have you talked about it?

[ He has a strong suspicion that the answer is going to be no, and that wouldn't surprise him. Eddie has been here longer than him, had time to make friends and forge connections. But even then, those friendships can only be three months old, perhaps a bit more? And is that really enough for a deep enough bond to talk about something so awful, so deeply personal? Especially to someone who didn't know the circumstances, who Eddie would have to explain the whole thing to from the beginning? At least with Cisco, he knows the facts already. He was there. ]

[The truth is, Eddie is a physical person, he enjoys hugs and cuddling, casual touches. But he doesn't really have anyone here to do that with - Yuri is withdrawn, the way he shows affection is esoteric, distant; Taako, he can touch, but Taako is also somewhat distant, flippant about anything emotional. So it's nice to have Cisco hug him for comfort, it's too easy to relax into it and accept the comfort, and it's then that he realizes how needy he's feeling, like an emotional nerve rubbed raw and exposed.

Swallowing hard, he listens to Cisco as he asks about talking about it. About dying, and Eddie winces.]

No. Not really. I mentioned that I had, but I haven't really...

[Shrugging, he pulls back from the hug, biting at the inside of his lower lip, trying to keep his expression neutral and hide the fact that he's doing it.]

I mean, what's to talk about. It's done. I'm not dead anymore. So I just need to settle here and build something new.

[ There's only a slight hesitation, when Cisco feels Eddie pulling away from the hug. He'd done it for Eddie's sake, embraced him because he thought Eddie needed it. But maybe... it's just possible Cisco had needed it a little bit, too. But once he's sure Eddie's trying to separate, Cisco lets him go, arms dropping. He puts his hands in his pockets and listens to Eddie's excuses.

Because they are excuses. Doesn't take a master detective to see that. Informing people of the situation, that he's dead back home, is one thing. But that wasn't what Cisco had meant by talking about it. And as he listens to the ways Eddie is invalidating the need to do so, the words are familiar. Really familiar, actually. ]

Wow. Wow, this... is really one of those can't kid a kidder situations, huh?

[ Cisco huffs out a soft, entirely humorless laugh, shaking his head like he can hardly believe the situation. He clears his throat, voice a bit tight as he explains: ]

You forget who you're talking to. 'Cause if there's anyone here who knows that there's stuff to talk about, even though you're not dead anymore, it's me. I was dead before, too, remember? So I know.

[ He looks up at Eddie, then, dark eyes keen, seeing right past that careful blank expression, looking right into him with a sad kind of understanding. ]

I know it isn't done.

[When he feels the hesitation in how Cisco lets him go, Eddie regrets pulling back from the hug, just for a moment. The contact felt nice, but he hadn't wanted to be awkward, and realizing that Cisco wanted the contact too makes him regret letting it go. But he's already made the decision, so he steps back and watches as Cisco's hands tuck into his pockets and looks at him like he's reading his soul.

When Cisco says 'wow' a couple times and then directly starts calling him on his cover, Eddie feels panic well up in him. His heart is beating too hard, his breath goes fast and shallow, his ears ring a little bit, but not loud enough that he can't hear it as Cisco explains that he's also been dead before too. For a few moments, Eddie goes still and stares at Cisco like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes wide, his lips parted, all shock, and tries to get his racing mind in order.

Because he can't brush off what Cisco's experienced. He can't. He has a lot of empathy for Cisco being troubled over what happened to him, but he can't reconcile that with empathy for himself and what he's gone through.]

It's different.

[There's no way he can get his brain to put the words together right, in the usual diplomatic, well-meaning, casual way he likes to talk, even when he's addressing serious issues. His ears are still ringing and he's caught up in the shock of being called out like he was. That just...doesn't usually happen to Eddie Thawne.]

It's different, what happened to you. You didn't choose... [He doesn't want to say it, doesn't want to say 'you were murdered' because that would be horrible. It's bad enough to even bring up what happened to Cisco, when Cisco looks so stricken and he'd seen the grief on his face when he talked about Ronnie. So he goes back to himself, to downplaying his own experience in contrast.]

I killed myself. I chose to die, and I did it to myself on my terms. So it shouldn't...it's not...it's not the same.

[Eddie licks his lips, breath still shallow, every nerve in his body insisting he run, get out of here, get out of this situation.]

I'm just sorry that it hurt you and everyone else anyway.

[ Eddie doesn't have to say it, for Cisco to know the sorts of words that would go in that gap, the silence as he trails off rather than vocalize what had actually happened to Cisco. But his gaze stays steady through it, and he doesn't let himself get distracted by thinking about it too much. This isn't about him, not really. He'd only brought up his own death to make Eddie recognize he knows what he's talking about.

And it's all too clear that Eddie is switching tactics, that he saw he didn't have a leg to stand on by saying that it's all neat and over and there's nothing to emotionally process. Cisco had shut that down, so Eddie's moving on to a new line, saying that because he'd chosen to sacrifice his life, that changes matters. It's not an argument that makes any sense, and Cisco's pretty sure the both of them know it, especially considering Eddie's uncomfortable body language. He looks ready to bolt. If he does, Cisco has every intention of chasing after him. ]

You're right. It's not exactly the same. Not exactly.

[ Cisco takes a tiny step closer, reaching up to set his hands against Eddie's arms, expression sad and just a touch pleading. ]

But that doesn't mean what happened to you isn't something you gotta deal with. I mean. I was there, remember? I know how fast you had to make that call. It was either do what you did, right that second, or there were gonna be a whole lotta dead bodies. Just... not yours.

[ Cisco exhales a short sigh, chews at his bottom lip for a moment before he adds: ]

If you ask me, he basically murdered you, too.

[ A part of Cisco is uncomfortable talking about this, too. It was such an awful day, such an awful time in his life. And for all that he's getting on Eddie's case about talking about all of it, processing it, it's not like he's done any of that for himself. Not really practicing what he's preaching. But right now, all he knows is that Eddie's trying to act like his death wasn't a big deal. And even though everything else might be complicated and messy, Cisco is sure, at least, that that isn't true. ]

I was- if you hadn't been there, I was gonna talk about you, next. At the story sharing thing. I mean, I didn't know you as well as Ronnie, but... I went to your funeral, man.

Edited 2017-05-23 23:28 (UTC)

[It catches him a little off guard, the way he can watch Cisco recognize the words he's trying not to say, and then keep his gaze completely steady. There's not a flinch, no evidence of trauma that Eddie can see, and instead, he just calls Eddie on trying to brush off his own feelings. The panic is still there, welling under the surface, and Eddie shifts from foot to foot, looking around as if he could get some escape from this situation.

There are so many levels of confusion and uncertainty in him as Cisco pins him with that gaze, puts his hands on his arms and holds onto him, speaks with such conviction and empathy and then talks about how he'd been to his funeral.

For a moment, Eddie's ears are ringing, and his breathing is shallow and harsh, his eyes a little wide, he feels trapped, pinned down, he wants to run away. Eddie isn't used to people seeing past his smiles, he usually makes it apparent when he's ready to talk about something, ready to be pushed, by making his displeasure known until he's approached, by telling someone he needs to talk. He's not used to smiling and brushing things off and having the person he's speaking to keep pushing, and he feels vulnerable, blank, like he can't form words. He doesn't have words for what's going on in his mind, why he's afraid, why he wants to just pretend he's not upset about having died.]

I just... [He swallows hard, takes a breath and tries to exhale, shaky, his eyes on Cisco's face, expression almost pleading.] He didn't murder me.

[Abruptly, he realizes why that upset him so much. Why Cisco's pushing and prodding is making him feel threatened. And knowing the reason, but not being sure how to word it, being confronted, not having the time to make it eloquent, has him licking his lips anxiously as he looks at Cisco like a trapped animal.]

He didn't murder me. I sacrificed myself. I chose it, because I wanted...I wanted Iris and Joe and Barry and everyone else, and you to keep living, I wanted to...

[It comes out rough and a little broken, forced-]

I wanted to be a hero. I didn't want to be another murder victim. [And once he's said it, voice choked with shame, it becomes abruptly easier to say.] I wanted to be a hero, I wanted to be proud of what I did, not...not a wreck. If I'm sad about it, if I'm all torn up with grief and homesickness, I'm not a hero anymore-

[His voice chokes off and he looks at Cisco pleadingly.]

[ Understanding dawns across Cisco's features. It's not something he would have ever thought of, if Eddie hadn't come out and said it so plainly. For Cisco, with his own death, there had been a very small sliver of comfort in convincing himself that it was not his fault, that his choices - to investigate Dr. Wells, to convince Caitlin to try to distract him, to go down into that basement alone - hadn't caused his murder. But for Eddie, it seems, the opposite is true. He is clinging to evitability, not inevitability.

And, too, there is the fact that Eddie seems to want to salvage something good from his death. For Cisco, there'd never been any question of that. Nothing good had come from his death. It had been only cruel, and horrific, and pointless.

But even if he can now grasp the logic that Eddie has in mind, that doesn't mean he buys it. Cisco keeps his gaze steady, expression soft as he says, quietly: ]

You were a hero. Are. What you did was heroic and there's literally nothing you can feel now that could possibly change any part of that.

[ The sadness in Cisco's chest feels like a physical thing; he can see just how much this conversation is distressing Eddie, how badly he wants to avoid it. But Cisco has a feeling that if he doesn't get Eddie to talk about this now, he might never get the chance again. Better to finish what he's started; better to stick it out with a little ever so slightly tough love, than to let the issue fester. ]

Don't you see? You can... you can be proud you were strong enough to do it, and still be sad that it meant you had to give up so much. It isn't one or the other. You're allowed to do both.

[ Cisco exhales slowly, pauses to shoot a quick but murderous glare at a gawking passer-by, who quickly turns and goes on their way. ]

Y'know what I think? I think we should- we should get one of these lanterns and hang it up. For you. As a gesture. [ With the tiniest rueful curl of a smile at the corner of his mouth, Cisco offers: ] I can do one for me, too, if you want.

[The moment where Cisco realizes what he's getting at is obvious, written all over his face, and Eddie feels, for a moment, even more uncomfortable. It's as if everything inside him, all the secret things that make up the core of him, his shameful, desperate desire to be a hero, to matter in a way he's never felt he truly did, to be noticed in a good way, like he never was growing up, to prove himself to Iris, to Joe, to his parents, his gym teacher, to Barry, to everyone who'd ever doubted him, to everyone he'd ever wanted to impress - all of it is laid bare. Pulled out in the open for Cisco to scrutinize and judge and know.

Back tense, jaw stiff, he pulls a few breaths in and out between his clenched teeth, and then Cisco is speaking, in a voice that is gentle, coaxing, reassuring. Cisco reassures him that he is still a hero, that what he did was heroic and that nothing he feels now could change that. Eddie doesn't know what he expected, but it wasn't this, and something tense in him snaps and falls apart, leaves him breathing brokenly, eyes hot and wet, wanting to cry so badly it feels like he'll choke on the tears if he doesn't do it, doesn't let go. He barely manages to hold them back, teeth clenched, fists clenched at his sides, struggling with himself. It takes a few moments before he can manage to speak, but he manages it, exerts his control to try to keep his cool, to try to force himself to relax.]

I think...if I regret it...it doesn't count anymore. You know? And I don't regret it, but...but it feels like being sad means I'd take it back if I could.

[It comes out choppy and strained, but he gets it out, and then he makes his hands relax, makes his shoulders loosen, brings a hand up to his face to scrub at his eyes, and struggles to regain his composure.]

A lantern? For me?

[ It's a little hard to watch, the way Eddie struggles not to cry, the stiffness in his shoulders and the redness of his eyes. Cisco's heart aches, a lump in his own throat, but he waits for Eddie to speak without interrupting. He wants to tell Eddie it's okay to cry, that it's all okay, but he knows he should give Eddie time to process what he'd already said, give him the courtesy of pretending not to notice how close he is to breaking down.

When Eddie speaks again, finally, Cisco nods along, face grave and full of empathy. ]

I get it. I do, Eddie. But I gotta say, from where I'm standing... they're two separate things. I don't think anyone would see you... grieving for yourself as a sign you wish you could take it back.

[ Cisco's voice has gone a little throaty and low with emotion, but there is conviction in the words. ]

And even if you wished you could take it back, even if you full-on regretted it and so angry about the way things happened that you wanted to scream... even if all that were true, it wouldn't make it not count. You feel this?

[ He reaches out, pulls Eddie's hand against his wrist, pressing his fingertips over where his pulse is beating. ]

This- me being alive- this counts. Iris and Joe being alive counts. Dr. Wells being fucking dead and gone forever counts.

[ Cisco lets Eddie's hand go, turning away from him and casting his eyes around. It seemed like for days people were shoving lanterns in his face nonstop, and now, the moment he actually wants one, there are none to be found - not that aren't hanging up already. ]

Yeah. Yeah, a lantern for you. I think we should.

[The worst thing Eddie can imagine, in this moment, is breaking down and crying, in public, where people can see him. He knows it would be awful, ugly crying, gut-wrenching sobs, and he can't afford that, not right now. Not when he and Cisco are barely more than acquaintances and it isn't fair to drop that on him, not when he wants to make a good impression. It's just that Cisco's expression is so empathetic, his eyes are trained on him, he's taking this seriously, he's engaged, and Eddie isn't used to being seen like this.

So it's much easier to take Cisco seriously when he says that they're two things, that it's okay for him to grieve for himself, that it doesn't mean he wants to take it back. And then Cisco goes on to explain that even if he did, it wouldn't not count. When Cisco takes his hand and presses it against his wrist, Eddie can feel it, the slow, steady thrum of Cisco's heart, the blood moving through his veins with that steady pulse of life, and it's then that two tears well up in his eyes and spill down his cheeks. Lifting his chin, he glances up at Cisco's face, takes a shaky breath, and wipes at his eyes, a little cross, a little afraid, a little elated, and nods.]

Thanks, Cisco.

[It comes out of him much more easily than anything he's said yet, and he exhales a shaky breath.]

I get it. Hard to swallow, but I get it. Sorry for being so... [He gestures vaguely with one hand.] ...you know. And okay.

[Glancing around, his eyes still red-rimmed, he takes a deep breath and then lets it out, sees someone walking by with a bundle of lanterns, and holds a hand out curiously. Taking one look at him and seeing the red rims of his eyes, the young girl, her skin a distinctly orange tone, with two small horns like a lamb's poking out of her forehead, hands over a little bundle of the ones she's carrying. She's alien, something Eddie's never seen before, but her smile, small and tentative and empathetic, destroys any semblance of a barrier between them.]

Thanks.

[He manages a weak smile, and she moves on, then Eddie turns to Cisco again, taking a deep breath.]

Here. There's a few, we can...we can send one out for Ronnie, too.

[ He could make a whole separate speech about how Eddie doesn't have to apologize, but for right now he thinks he's done enough speech-making. In truth, he's just relieved that Eddie agreed, and seemed to really accept what he was saying. Or at least, acknowledge it, with a hope for acceptance later on. That's a start.

So, with friendly ease, he waves off Eddie's apology and says: ]

It's cool.

[ Cisco takes the opportunity, while Eddie is getting the lanterns from the nice alien girl, to gather up his own composure. It's a quick process, only takes a few seconds. By the time Eddie's facing him again, Cisco has managed to pull himself together, and his voice is normal again when he replies: ]

Yeah, that's a good idea.

[ He takes one of the lanterns from Eddie so that they are easier for him to carry, and quietly, the two of them begin to walk side-by-side in the direction of the river. The hush between them is odd - that feeling of slightly-forced normalcy after a period of emotional intensity. Cisco sneaks little glances over at Eddie, but for now, he doesn't risk saying anything that might break the fragile calm between them.

Once they reach the side of the river, Cisco sees that a few people have already started sending off their lanterns. Dusk is slipping closer towards night, and they look surprisingly beautiful, bobbing up and down on the water. Clearing his throat, he says, quietly: ]

I think we're supposed to write on them before we...

[It's a relief when the weight of the speech Cisco wants to give, hanging in the air between them dissipates with that simple 'it's cool', because Eddie's not really sure how much more pressure the emotional thunderstorm brewing in him could build up before he couldn't hold it back anymore. So he lets go of a bit of it, lets Cisco catch his breath, regain his composure, and then they take the lanterns and start toward the water. It's good to have someone to support him in this part, because it's something he hadn't even wanted to consider before Cisco had suggested it, the thought of taking his grief over his life and letting it float away from him.

He couldn't have done it alone.

When they get to the river, at a relatively good spot, with the sun setting and the planet they're orbiting slipping out of the sky, Eddie takes a breath and looks at the lanterns, then up at Cisco. For a moment, he feels an intense rush of fondness toward the younger man, for this, for being beside him, for pushing him, as uncomfortable as it had been. Now, he has someone beside him who is also feeling sad, so he feels a little more capable of balling up all the grief and homesickness for a place he can never go back to, putting it inside the lantern, and letting it float down the river.]

Yeah. We are. Do...do you have a sharpie or something? I have a ballpoint pen, but I don't know if it would work on this...

[He takes a deep breath, and then looks back at Cisco again.]

Let's do Ronnie's first? I'm not ready to do mine yet.

Yeah, hang on-

[ Cisco searches around in the pockets of the jacket he is wearing, and pulls a large permanent marker from one; it's not like he goes around carrying sharpies all the time, but it had occurred to him that he might want to dedicate a lantern to Ronnie, to participate in this festivities. He hadn't been decided, but he'd felt better knowing he would have the tools he needed if he did make up his mind. Cisco's grateful for that, now. ]

We can do that.

[ It's stalling, and they both know that, but in this case, Cisco thinks that's for the best. He looks at the lanterns they have, chooses one with deep red paper that reminds him of fire. It seems appropriate, given Ronnie's abilities. Cisco uncaps the pen, handing the cap to Eddie absently as he props the lantern against his stomach so he can write on it steadily. His handwriting, as he spells out RONNIE RAYMOND is neat and even.

Cisco pauses, the marker hovering an inch or so above the blank space beneath Ronnie's name. He'd been the one to suggest this, but now he finds himself stuck. He stands there like that for a heavy moment or two, looking down at the small space, thinking how much he wants to say. The problem isn't that he doesn't have any words or ideas, but rather, that there are too many of them. There had been so much stuff left unfinished between him and Ronnie.

Swallowing, Cisco carefully writes:

LOVE YOU
MISS YOU
I'M SORRY
THANKS FOR EVERYTHING ]

[ The words seem pathetically insufficient, jagged and ineloquent, but at least, they fill up that blank space so that there's no room left. ]

[It's a bit of a relief, having the pressure off him, the attention off him. It gives him a chance to regroup, to regain his composure by letting him shift the focus to something else, someone else. It's much easier to get himself under control, to find his footing, when he's thinking about someone else, about Cisco and how he was affected by Ronnie's death.

It's still hard to think about, the fact that Ronnie had died, and that it had been at least in part because of what Eddie had done. But Cisco is here, in front of him, struggling as he holds the lantern, looks at it, marker in hand, and Eddie can see the changes in his face, the heaviness settling over him, the way his mouth twitches and his lashes move as he goes through the motions of trying to figure out what to write. And when he figures it out, even though Eddie is curious, painfully so, he doesn't look, doesn't invade that privacy.

Instead, he reaches out and settles his hand on Cisco's shoulder, squeezes gently, eyes on Cisco's face instead of on the lantern.]

You okay?

introductory mingle: MEMORIA

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