[ open ] call it your 2.0, your rebirth, whatever

[franciscoramon]

who: cisco + anyone!
what: catch-all + tdm prompts + fajro prompts
when: february
where: various places!
warnings: will add as needed

I. DREAM A LITTLE DREAM

[ Cisco thought that the crystal caves sounded exactly like something from a fantasy series he had loved as a child, so of course, he dragged Eddie to go and see them with him. There had been nothing ominous about the place, at the time. It isn't until a few days later that Cisco's dreams start to show the sign of outside influence. They become vivid, surreal, and most importantly, he starts having guests. A few times he'll have a passing thought about a friend before falling asleep, only to run into them in his dream. He's no stranger to unusual dreams, and - after what had happened in October - not even a stranger to encountering other people in them.

But it's still pretty damn weird. ]

You see that, right? It's not just me?

[ Cisco asks the question to whoever is standing next to him, pointing down an empty city street at the looming figure of what is, unmistakably, a Godzilla-sized robotic panda. ]

II. CLEANING HOUSE

[ Cisco had rolled his eyes at first at the idea of a whole holiday based around cleaning. What could be less fun? He's always been somewhat inclined to keep stuff. After all, you never know what use it could be later. He spends plenty of his time scavenging the things other people left behind in the abandoned parts of the city, for materials and parts for his work.

But once he and Eddie decide to share the same room, he realizes he is going to have to get rid of at least some of his stuff, to make room. So he reluctantly starts, only to find himself getting more and more into the task. He can be seen either having a cute little yard sale to get rid of various items (clothing, books, etc.), or else taking what remains after the sale down to the bonfires by the river. ]

III. CLEARING THE AIR

[ Along with everyone else in the Quarantine, as the month progresses, he finds himself dwelling on resentments from his past. Unfortunately for Cisco, most of those resentments pertain to people who aren't even here. Once the 15th rolls around, he finds that his sense of taste has vanished completely. A few conversations with others tell him that this is probably something to do with the holiday, that he needs to clear the air.

But what is he supposed to do, when the people he's feeling resentful towards aren't even here?

So Cisco can be found all that week making his way around town, sitting in a park or perhaps at a bar, slump-shouldered and wan and uncomfortable, needing (but not knowing it) someone to talk to. A good heart-to-heart will put things right, but he's not aware of that yet.

He is also, despite his distraction, more than happy to listen to others' woes, or any resentments held against him. ]

Comments

[bythehand]

[ Finn knows when he's not in top form to hold a good enough poker face. Most of the time, he's not especially good at it. More at valiantly attempting to contain his own implosions.

Or in any case, he figures Cisco's seen him a lot less calm and even less okay than he is right now. And he went more than out of his way helping Finn piece himself back togethr. If it might help return the favor a little, there are worse things he could do than be upfront, he thinks.

Finn (a little belatedly) holds up a hand, fingers spread. ]

Can't feel anything. I'm not a fan, either. [ He could almost, almost make his peace with the fact that he didn't get a choice in coming to this city all those weeks ago. Between meeting good people, doing some genuinely fun things, and it being an apparent accident, he's been able to get by as well as he can with anything.

The measures being put into this holiday are unnecessary and unacceptable. It's forcing things onto people to try to make them deal with things they don't want to, or that they can't. There's no choice. It's all but impossible to live around that without feeling like he's about to vibrate out of his skin. ]

Not being as bad as it could be doesn't make it fair that they did it.

[ Because someone, somewhere, one or multiple, did this. He really wishes he knew who. ]

[franciscoramon]

Shit, seriously?

[ Cisco's eyes are wide, and he's looking at Finn with obvious concern, irritability fading away for a moment in the wake of his worry. ]

Yeah, yours is way worse. You gotta be careful, Finn. I mean- I've heard stories. People with this disease that makes it so they can't feel pain. They have to go to the doctor all the time, 'cause if they get hurt, they can't feel it, and they can make it worse. It's, like, dangerous.

[ He knows he can't be helping with Finn's bad mood, is probably making him more scared than he was before, but Cisco feels obligated to tell him. If it's an issue of safety... well, Finn will forgive him for being a bit insensitive.

The resentment, so close to the surface these last few days, bubbles up. ]

I can't believe they'd do that to you - like, not being able to taste food sucks and all but it's not that. Honestly, I can't believe this entire lousy excuse for a holiday. It's so... god, it's so self-righteous, you know? Like... just leave people alone. Let them decide when they wanna deal with their shit.

[bythehand]

[ Finn is maybe a little capped out on stress, which is the one thing he's been left wishing he actually couldn't feel, but it's safe to say his face took an appropriate journey through jaw-tightening acceptance of the warning. He doesn't seem especially offended by the intent behind it. He's just done plenty of overthinking on this in his downtime already. Right now he... almost thinks he'd rather just have a horrifying pain-numbing disease than some high and mighty magic side effect. Almost.

Then Cisco is absolutely speaking his metaphorical language. Self-righteous. That's the right way to describe it. He's been trying to think of the words. Join him in the no chill squad, Cisco. Everyone here has a lot of very strong opinions about the nature of free will, and might want to pvp the moon. ]

Exactly. That's exactly it. This whole thing is them going out of their way to tell people they can either do what they want or they'll have to suffer, because they've got the power to make sure it happens.

[ It's all suffering, no matter where it falls on the scale of things that hurt. It's something no one asked for that they get no option but to deal with. It's all enough to count by Finn's measure. ]

That's not doing someone a favor for a holiday. I'm pretty sure it's just cornering us. And I don't care much for not getting to make my own choices.

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco doesn't say anything, as Finn speaks. The things he's saying, the words he's choosing for this, the anger in his voice - all are an almost direct mirror of how Cisco feels. This isn't something he's talked about with anyone, yet. He'd expressed annoyance, sure, but he'd been keeping things safe, talking about it like an inconvenience, rather than a kind of coercion.

He crosses his arms over his chest, tightly, jaw set, nodding but not interrupting. The truth is, if he stops to think about it for too long, he does feel cornered. Enough that he's starting to actually shake a little, and hoping Finn doesn't notice it. ]

No. I don't really care for it, either.

[ He still doesn't know too many details about Finn's life, why he is the way he is. All he knows is, when it came to the threat of Kylo Ren, Finn reacted to that danger the same way Cisco would have: by planning for the worst, and trying to get all the variables under control. And when those fireworks had been going off, he'd had a panic attack. That sort of thing didn't come from nowhere.

So when he says he doesn't like not being allowed his own choices, it doesn't take much, to connect the dots, assume Finn has been in situations where other people have not given him any choice. Which makes it easier for Cisco to admit, voice gone staccato and hoarse: ]

I don't like... I'm not, um. Good with feeling- powerless. It fucks me up.

[ Then, because it's all so close to the surface, he blurts out more than he'd planned to (half-hating himself as he does, because even talking about all of this is like giving in): ]

And I don't like people watching me. Creeps me the hell out. I know it's- the spell probably doesn't work like that, but it still makes my skin crawl.

[bythehand]

[ There's a visceral sense of relief for knowing that Cisco understands it, in some way. That he isn't just making himself look like someone going overboard about something that can't be... explained to people who have never felt it.

Relief, and the sharp cut of thinking he wouldn't wish the familiarity onto anybody else. He doesn't even like it on himself. It shouldn't be something people understand at all. ]

I know the feeling. [ Finn hesitates. Vulnerability's still not one of his strong suits. But Cisco has more or less seen him at the worst mess he's made of himself here, barring maybe Poe.

They're in this together, he thinks. And neither of them are at their best right now as it stands. It can't hurt to measure out his own understanding. ]

I never really had privacy before I got here. No real chances. [ There's less observation in the Resistance, but no guarantees with them. More about limited space and unfortunate necessity than control.

He shrugs one shoulder, a jerky movement. ] I've only had it this long and even I hate the idea of this thing-- keeping track of me somehow. I don't think it's fair. I think it's fair not to think it's fair.

[ If there were someone to punch to fix this, he'd invite Cisco to come along with him. Get in a good hit or two. That's probably not the greatest plan. ]

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco's noticed, of course, how little Finn talks about his background. There have been enough significant gaps, and subject changes, and elisions, for him to get the idea. They've never talked about it explicitly, but Cisco had tailored the sorts of questions he asked, made it easier for Finn to not-talk about it, for as long as he wants. That didn't mean he wasn't curious, but he wasn't willing to pry. Part of that was because he knows, from personal experience, what it's like to be on the other side of intense interest in experiences he doesn't like thinking about.

So when Finn mentions his life before coming here, says that he had no privacy at all, Cisco takes notice. He listens carefully, wondering what sort of environment excluded privacy completely. Boarding school? Unlikely. Commune? Possibly, but it didn't feel right. Institutional, maybe. Something in those lines, perhaps. ]

That sounds super shitty. I mean, even if it's all you were used to. That's the sorta thing everybody ought to have, you know?

[ It's an invitation to speak more, an opening that Finn can walk through or dodge, depending on his preference. It helps, though, that Finn has said that much. Cisco can think of his own answer as being a response to Finn, to make him feel more comfortable, rather than a capitulation to the wishes of the people who had cast this spell. He's not talking for their sake. Only for Finn's. That distinction matters, to him. ]

I thought I had it. Assumed I did, you know? 'Til I found out my- [ He pauses a long time, trying to find the next word, the label he wants to give to Eobard. Eventually, he settles on ] - found out this person I had trusted had set up hidden cameras. In the place I worked. In my favorite coffee shop. In my apartment. My bedroom, you know? Everywhere.

[ Cisco's voice grows increasingly grim, and by the time he's halfway through he regrets saying anything at all. But... if anyone would get it, Finn will. Right? Or would he think it was nothing - having never had the privilege of expecting privacy in the first place? ]

[bythehand]

[ He swallows ]

Yeah. [ Then, almost like an afterthought: ] I got out. Right before I got here. But once you get out, it's-- you start figuring out there are a lot of things like that. That you lost by never getting them.

[ Kindness, affection. Room to make mistakes, even big ones, to lose control without having to brace for the worst outcome. Trust. And yes, privacy.

He doesn't like being alone, really. He's not used to privacy by any stretch. Not even used to real silence. There was always someone right there with him, or observing, overseeing. This semi-breach in the privacy he's had here, it's almost not even a surprise. It's just something happening.

He's been able to embrace the concept, though, in some ways. Even if only as a concept of something that people are supposed to be able to trust in having, normally, to relax into without thinking about it. Part of him never fully relaxes, never fully trusts in having something like that. So this is maybe another thing he can't personally understand all the way down to the root. The same way that he'll never fully understand what it was like for Poe, having Kylo Ren dig into his mind looking for whatever he wanted. What it's like for Rey to have the Force, and no idea how to handle her own power.

Some things are outside his sphere.

But it's something Cisco understands, and it's something that Cisco relaxed into having, trusted in having. Should have been able to trust in having, from someone that he trusted as a person. And what happened to that was wrong. Finn can make that distinction. He can feel the spark of outrage on Cisco's behalf. ]

That sounds 'super shitty,' too. If you don't mind me borrowing words.

[franciscoramon]

What...

[ Cisco hesitates for a long, awkward moment, chewing at his lower lip in silence. He's avoided asking prying questions until now for a reason. He doesn't want to alienate Finn, to make him uncomfortable. And he doesn't know, now, with 100% certainty, if his feeling that it's the right time to ask is coming from his own intuition or from the coercion of the spell. But he realizes, during that pause, that it's going to bother him too much if he doesn't at least ask. ]

What was it you were getting out of?

[ He's gotten closer to Finn, has had fun with him, has tried to help him when Finn needed it. But there is a distance between them, filled with ignorance. There's so much about Finn that he doesn't know, and in turn, so much about himself he hasn't allowed Finn to know, either. Sure, he'd told him about working for Team Flash, about some of the adventures and the details. But none of the stuff that had shaped him into the person he is. None of the painful things, that mattered, that still hurt. ]

'course I don't mind. It was definitely super shitty.

[ Then, because he's already worrying he'd made the wrong call in asking, Cisco's quick to add: ]

You don't gotta answer that. If you don't want to, I mean. I'm not like the dicks who did this to us. Any time I'm getting nosy and all up in your business, it's strictly a 'say as much or as little as you want' type deal. Okay?

[bythehand]

[ Finn's own pause isn't quite as long. Less awkward, more a moment of consideration. The whole-- spell thing, it weirdly doesn't crop up in Finn's mind in regards to this. Just the question, and the elaboration. ]

Okay.

[ And a pause again while he thinks, this one on the longer side. At this point, with as much as Cisco's ever done to help him, as good as he's always been to Rey, it's not a matter of trust. He trusts Cisco. It's usually about control over what people know, for a lot of reasons. About, despite knowing he didn't get to choose it, despite knowing that he left, still feeling... that curl of shame, for what he was. Could have been.

If he said I can't or I don't want to, if he started and stopped, he knows he could trust Cisco not to push it. To let him still have that control.

That's no small thing to him. People he can place that trust in are few and far between in his life so far, no matter how much he might trust them to be good people or to watch his back. So Finn leans forwards, elbows to knees, hands clasped. Looks out towards the people passing by a little ways off, minding their own business, and holds himself still. ]

I was a stormtrooper. [ It comes out soft. He tries to sound measured and matter-of-fact with it, but it's safe to say his tone veers more into uncertain territory. Waiting for second shoes to drop is sort of his hobby. He's not one to assume things will automatically go well. ] The, uh. The First Order raised me. That's what I was getting out of.

[franciscoramon]

[ It's clear how hard this is for Finn; he doesn't show any signs of struggle, externally, but that long silence says plenty. Cisco doesn't know what internal debates or struggles are going on inside him - he can only infer that they are difficult. So he waits, without interruption, or distraction, or movement. And when Finn does speak, his reaction is a muted: ]

Oh.

[ For Cisco, the word doesn't have the same weight it would doubtless invoke for someone from Finn's own universe. Sure, he knows what it means, what it implies. A foot-soldier, working for the First Order. Waging war on the innocent. But it is a moment of intellectual comprehension, rather than a visceral recognition.

Still, it makes sense. The lack of privacy Finn had described, his unfamiliarity with things like sledding and big parties and fun. If he had been raised to be a disposable soldier, to be canon fodder for an evil empire, they would want to crush out any individuality, anything good worth living for, that might make him unfit for his horrible fate. Cisco leans back, rubbing a hand across his mouth. There is no accusation, no fear, in his expression. Only sympathy, and sadness. ]

So you left, and joined the rebels. With Rey, and Poe. To make sure other people got to grow up free.

[bythehand]

[ He expects an "oh." The tone comes as a little bit of a surprise, if a pleasant one. More pieces of a puzzle coming together than something sharp, wary. Even when he told Rey on Takodana, there was sort of a... moment. Everything coming together, on top of him leaving. He's never asked if it was because of what he said or because he'd been lying. ]

I never planned on joining the rebels. Not at first. [ At this juncture, honesty feels like the best policy to adopt. ] I just left because I didn't wanna kill for them. My first battle, I couldn't do it. So I ran. Busted Poe out of holding and asked him to help me steal a ship. Met Rey and BB-8 on Jakku. Poe and Rey treated me more like a person in five minutes than anyone ever had.

[ If there's a shade of bitterness there, it's certainly not aimed at Rey and Poe. A lot of the important things in his life have just. Happened to him, he's realizing. Luck, maybe. ]

Now I have a name. A place where I fit. I know I can't stand back and let a war keep going like it's not my problem. Took me a while, but I got there.

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco can see the wariness in Finn, the expectation of... something. He doesn't know what. But he can tell that the stakes for Finn couldn't be higher, and he listens quietly, without interruption, even though there's a million questions spinning around in his mind. Some of them, he knows, are none of his business. Others, Finn might answer on his own, given opportunity.

His dark eyes stay fixed on Finn as he admits that he didn't plan on joining the rebels, that he "just" left and wanted to be free at first. Cisco can tell from the way he frames it that Finn sees that as less virtuous, somehow, but he doesn't really get why. ]

Doesn't matter how long it took you to get there. When it really counted... you made the right call. Despite everything. You didn't want to kill, so you ran away, even though it must've been real fucking dangerous.

[ It hurts, hearing Finn talking about being dehumanized, about not even having a name. But Cisco swallows and tries to keep as much of his horror as possible from showing externally (he only succeeds somewhat). ]

Sounds like my instinct was right about you. You're a total hero, Finn.

[ Cisco's eyes are a little brighter, now, and it's clear he means every word fervently. ]

[bythehand]

[ One stormtrooper can't make a war stop. One stormtrooper is as negligible and replaceable as the armor they wear. Cannon fodder. Fighting didn't cross his mind.

But he could make it so they didn't have him to use. He could have that much control. Which made a nice overall plan, since once he left, his options narrowed down to "get away" or "die trying." And those both fit nicely into that slot. Better than staying, he thinks.

If anyone has given him a look like that before, so close to the fear and repulsion he was preparing for but not quite on the mark-- feeling it for him, not because of him-- he hasn't managed to catch sight of it. Finn files it away, a small, complicated point of hard light behind his ribcage. ]

I'm not a hero. [ In light of everything he got from that canister, and remembering his talk with Poe a while back about people generally thinking what they're gonna think, he's trying not to sound too insistent. ] But I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.

[ Then Finn hesitates. Leans in closer, intent, and reflexively reaches for one of Cisco's hands (not too tight, he reminds himself. if you can't feel it you can't grip hard and hope for the best, because it isn't just your hand. and for all that the First Order didn't deal in gentleness, it at least taught him how to deal in calculated restraint).

Welcome to the Finn zone. Nobody has personal bubbles and almost everything merits high-octane intensity. ]

I don't want you to think you're the reason I didn't. You're a good person. I like you. I trust you. My hangups are all on me. Okay?

[ His problems, all the parts of himself that sometimes hurt and don't quite fit, aren't sparks he wants lighting to spread by proxy. If there's something wrong with him, he doesn't have to create the possibility of making someone think it's actually a problem in them. Someone he's friends with, least of all. ]

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco doesn't push, with the hero thing. At least, not out loud. But there's something behind his eyes - a brightness, a conviction - that remains unchanged even after Finn's protest. He might not think of himself that way, that his one act of self-liberation was worth celebrating and honoring, but Cisco disagrees. Finn had survived. He'd freed himself. He had chosen goodness, when all the forces were stacked up against him, making it so easy for him to be evil. If that's not heroism, Cisco doesn't know what is.

But he bites that back, for the time being. There would be other days to say it, to show how deeply he felt it. For now, he wants to make sure Finn knows that Cisco's going to let him define himself, that he isn't going to take that away from him. ]

Hey, it's okay-

[ His voice trails off as Finn takes his hand. His touch is careful, and Cisco is startled by the gesture. It's so simple, and deliberate, and entirely unexpected. He can't think of the last time someone, apart from Eddie, just took his hand. He wonders what it means, if there is some bad news or awful added confession coming. But then Finn merely explains that he'd kept it secret for his own reasons, and not because he didn't trust Cisco. He says he does trust him. And Cisco, who'd been ready to laugh off the explanation, suddenly feels that his throat is very tight. He clears it, feeling perplexed and honored and happy and nervous all at once. ]

Okay. I didn't think that, Finn. Just- for what it's worth. Not because I'm, like, so obviously a great guy. Even though, I mean, duh.

[ He can't help trying to lighten the mood with a little humor, pauses to toss his hair back, a joking show of vanity and self-assurance. ]

I just. Um. I get it. The whole secrets and hangups routine. There's... stuff I haven't told you, yet. About me. And it's not because I don't like or trust you, either, so don't worry about me getting the wrong idea.

[ And maybe the day would come, sooner rather than later, when Cisco would tell Finn about his powers, about the complicated history there and all the things he can do. If he were a better person, he would do it now. Secret for secret, confession for confession. But he can't bring himself to. Not just yet. ]

I don't imagine it's the kind of thing you could tell somebody from your world very lightly, huh? I bet- there's a lot of people who wouldn't understand. Who would blame you, or be scared of you.

[ He squeezes Finn's hand lightly, forgetting for a moment that he won't be able to feel the shift in pressure, before reassuring, in a firm voice: ]

I'm not scared of you.

[bythehand]

[ The First Order builds up a certain view of the world outside of it. Haphazard and chaotic, unbalanced without cause. Rife with deprivations and depravity.

And it's true, in some ways. Injustice. Cruelty. People turning a profit on galaxy-wide suffering, people with nothing to their name. Those kids on Canto Bight, they hadn't had any more choice in being there than he'd had about being an inductee. The real world is unpredictable, uncertain. It operates in unspoken rules and languages he was never allowed to learn, and he's made the mistakes to show for it.

But it's still so much better than what the First Order wants to do to it. It's still so much better than the First Order tells any of them to believe.

The good things that walk hand-in-hand with freedom, that coincide with messy uncertainties and the unbidden anxiety of seeing how genuinely big and unpredictable the universe is-- they shine so much more brightly and go so much farther than any of the bad. ]

Yeah?

[ He grew up in something cold and sterile, not allowed to be attached to so much as a real name. He grew up meant to be a mindlessly devoted warm body, only good for shooting until he got shot down or for rising through the ranks to train up even more soldiers like himself.

He woke up.

He broke out a prisoner and Poe Dameron somehow, miraculously, trusted him enough to help them both get out. He wandered aimlessly through the desert and somehow, miraculously, he met Rey, the only kind and beautiful thing to ever grow on Jakku. He met Leia Organa, and Rose Tico, a dozen other people who've lost everything and made themselves that much stronger fighting for what they've found since.

He found things worth fighting for, for the first time. A place he not only fit into, but belonged in. Somehow. Miraculously.

Finn found the real world.

Sometimes he meets someone so inexplicably, unbelievably, unerringly kind that it's hard to figure out what a person is supposed to do with the feeling it leaves behind.

Somehow, miraculously, he wound up sitting on a park bench with Cisco Ramon. Who, while certainly far from the first person to not be afraid of him, is the first person who's ever outright said it. People he likes, even considers friends, finding out... there's a broad span of reactions Finn is ready to expect or accept if or when they do. Fear is maybe the one thing that would hurt the most to see.

He swallows. Nods once. His eyes are bright, but dry. ]

Thanks. I'm glad you're not.