riverviewlogs | [semi-open] it was so quiet

Entry tags:

[semi-open] it was so quiet

who: established cr (anybody who has interacted with cisco before)
what: cisco kills someone in self-defense, is a m e s s
when: june 8
where: various
warnings: death, guilt, will add as needed

Cisco doesn't have very many people he considers enemies, and almost none of them are in the Quarantine. But there is one. One motherfucker on his radar: the guy who stole schematics from him and Tony Stark and tried to sell the stuff (through a third party, of course, because the coward didn't want to show his face) at the tech expo back in March. Cisco doesn't know the guy's name, or where he works, or what world he came from, or anything about him. Well, anything except two things. Cisco knows what he looks like, and he knows the guy can turn invisible. That was how he'd stolen the designs. Cisco wouldn't have ever solved it, probably, if it hadn't been for his powers - and even that was mostly just luck.

He and Tony had tried to set up a sting operation, catch the guy in the act the next time he snuck into either of their workshops. But he must have had allies, because their trap was never sprung: he never came back, and so Cisco moved on. It was always there in the back of his mind, though. Unfinished business. A loose thread.

So when Cisco is out walking through the city one day and sees the guy, just wandering through the club exhibition like he's thinking about taking up badminton maybe, Cisco almost doesn't believe his eyes. He rubs them, looks again... and he isn't sure. Not one hundred percent. So he walks over, with purpose, a frown just beginning to form between his brows.

"Hey..."

And then he gets the confirmation he needs. Because the second the guy looks up and sees Cisco striding towards him, he clearly recognizes Cisco. Cisco's heart is racing, and he's expecting confrontation, sure. But he's definitely not expecting the guy to whip a laser gun out of a shoulder holster and just open fire in the middle of a crowded club faire. Cisco reacts on instinct, diving out of the way, though he feels a stinging heat against his cheek. He raises his fingers to it and they come away bloody.

No time to think about that, though, because everything bursts into chaos - everyone at the booths around them runs away - panic, commotion, gawking, and the guy still coming towards him. Cisco rolls back onto his feet, pushing his hair out of his face and holding up both hands, placating.

"Whoa! Whoa whoa, come on, man, there's no need to get all shoot-y here-"

Evidently, knowing Cisco is unarmed and trying to negotiate is only encouragement; the guy fires again, and as Cisco dodges, he loses sight of him. Which, of course, is when the guy goes invisible. Cisco yells at all the people nearby, telling them to get out of there. He can't see where the guy is, but the laser gun makes a sound when it fires, just far enough in advance of when the beam of light arrives that Cisco can get out of the way - for the most part. His shoulder gets hit, which is when he starts firing back.

The fight is short but ugly, and at every moment Cisco is convinced he's going to get shot and die and it's going to be so pointless, or some bystander is going to get in the way and they're going to get hurt. It feels like it lasts forever, but it's probably only about three minutes until he gets lucky, and one his vibe blast makes contact. He knows, because the guy goes visible again as he's flying through the air. Cisco isn't sure, later, if it was the blast that killed him, or the way he hit the back of his head against the corner of that table on the way down. Either way, the guy dropped, like a sack of potatoes, and didn't move. At all.

The next few minutes were even more of a blur than the fight itself. Running over. Trying to get the guy to respond. Realizing he wasn't breathing, that there was blood all over. Calling out for help. Standing back, shaking all over, as medics showed up - too fast, someone in the crowd had probably called them. There were police, too. They all know Cisco, of course; he makes some of the tech they use, and recognizing the face of the officer who walks up to him is just another level of surreality. Cisco explains, in stuttered and broken words, what had happened. He sees other cops talking to the people in the crowd - apparently plenty of them had stayed close enough to see what happened, are giving their account.

He keeps asking the woman interviewing him if there's any news from the hospital, did the ambulance get there, did they resuscitate him, bring him back? There is all kinds of fancy tech, all manner of magic. The guy was just unconscious, anyway. Just passed. Nothing really serious.

The officer seems to realize, belatedly, that not all the blood on Cisco is someone else's, and that his shoulder is injured. She insists on shepherding him into her car, then, to take him to the hospital to get checked up. On the way there, she gets a call, and Cisco listens to her monosyllabic answers like he's trying to crack a code.

She tells him that the person who attacked him came from a species that were immune to the effects of magic, that the people at the hospital had done everything they could, but they hadn't been able to save him. Then, her stoic professionalism cracking a little, she tells him that everyone knows it wasn't his fault, that about two dozen people saw him just come at Cisco out of nowhere. She says there isn't even going to be that much paperwork, and Cisco feels like he's going to be sick. He doesn't even know the guy's name, and how does he even start to ask that, when apparently, he'd killed him?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Something has changed. It doesn't change how Eddie feels about Cisco, not exactly, not in any measurable way, and certainly not negatively. Cisco had killed someone. He had done it in self-defense, Eddie is sure, or by accident. He'd done it to protect people, he'd done it for reasons that made sense in the moment, he'd been protecting himself and the other people at the exhibition, and the death, itself, was an accident. Eddie knows that, because he knows Cisco, knows who he is as a person, knows that if he had any choice in the matter, Cisco would not have killed someone. Wouldn't have even hurt someone.

But killing someone - it changes a person. Eddie's seen it first-hand, in his fellow officers when they'd had to shoot someone in the line of duty, the shell-shocked expressions, the disbelief, the hollow sense of having lost something; all the counselling, the paperwork, the time off work to recover. All of those procedures are in place because killing another person has a deep effect on the person who had done the killing. Because there is a permanent change.

This morning, he'd been jittery, anxious and excited, he'd finally decided that today was the day he was going to propose, the ring is in a box in the inside pocket of the jacket he's wearing. All day he'd been picturing it. Buying some sandwiches, taking Cisco to the park, sitting together in the sunshine by the river and proposing. What Cisco's face would look like, how things stood a chance of, somehow, impossibly, getting even better than they already are.

But everything has changed now.

Eddie is afraid. Not that Cisco is less or ruined or sullied, but that Cisco won't be able to bear up under this, that he will be broken under guilt. Afraid that he won't know what to say to him, because Eddie hasn't had to kill before, besides Eobard. And that...that had only been killing himself, with collateral damage. He can't think about that right now.

When he sees Cisco, he goes still for a moment, just looking at him. Bandaged and wearing an ill-fitting shirt, expression blank and a little empty except when he tries to smile and doesn't quite succeed. Some of the shock subsides, then, and is replaced by intense, gut-wrenching anxiety, worry with a twist of grief. A fear and empathy that is almost painful, because he loves Cisco so much and can't even comprehend the pain he's in. Moving forward without a word, he comes up to his boyfriend, he pulls him into his arms, holding him close against himself, careful, gentle.]

God. Cisco. I love you so much.

[What else can he say right now?]

[ Caitlin had tried to explain to him before, how an emotion could be powerful enough that it caused a physical sensation of pain. She'd said a lot about neurons and had started naming sections of the brain, and it was at that point that she usually lost Cisco.

Whatever the reasons, though, Eddie's hug hurts. Not from any of Cisco's injuries, but in that bone-deep, stabbing way when the pain is all sadness making itself felt. Eddie embraces him so gently and says he loves him, and Cisco can't even make his body move enough to lift his arms and hug back. The most he manages is to lean into the contact, eyes slipping shut.

Cisco feels like he is suspended, incapable of moving or speaking or even processing any of what is happening. It's all too bright and sudden and close. Quietly, he asks: ]

Do you know... am I allowed to leave?

[ He does not look at the station with the nurses and other workers, but instead over to the few police officers, including the one who brought him here, who are talking to one another a few feet off. Cisco lifts his eyes to look at Eddie, but his gaze slides away again a moment later, Adam's apple bobbing. ]

Or do they want me to- to... go to the station.

[ That brings on a rush of shame, sudden and awful. God, what a question. What a fucking question he never dreamed of asking. The implicit am I being arrested for murder? Eddie must regret ever meeting him, right now. Must be re-thinking all of it, even if he does still love him, or want to love him at least. ]

[Eddie can feel it, how Cisco simply rests against him and doesn't hug back, just leans in and closes his eyes, not responding. He's hurt, and Eddie understands why, doesn't make any movement to force him to respond, to come out of that shell. He just holds him, his arms around his shoulders, rubbing his back and running fingers through his hair, pressing his mouth against the crown of Cisco's head. For a long while, they just stay that way, until Cisco finally speaks, asking that question that makes Eddie's heart ache.]

Yeah, of course you're allowed to leave, babe. They already got your statement, I heard them on the radio. I told them I was coming to pick you up.

[Shifting back a little, Eddie looks down at Cisco, searching his face, lifting one hand to cup his cheek.]

You didn't do anything wrong, baby. You didn't. You protected people around you. You protected yourself. That's everything I could've asked for.

[Lifting a hand, Eddie gently slides Cisco's hair back behind an ear, brushes his thumb against Cisco's full mouth, searching his face, holding eye contact so Cisco can see it. Can see that he's telling the truth, that he means what he's saying.]

Edited 2018-06-17 02:29 (UTC)

[ Cisco trusts Eddie, giving a tiny nod and accepting it as fact when Eddie tells him he's allowed to leave, that it won't be doing anything wrong, breaking any rules. He lets Eddie move his face, not resisting, but it takes a moment longer for him to actually look up, meet his boyfriend's blue eyes. Eddie looks paler than usual, the stubble standing out a little more against his chin. The worry on his face is raw and naked and makes something in Cisco's chest constrict painfully.

He hears the words, understands them, but don't make him feel comforted. All they do is chip away at the last little layer of numbness keeping Cisco from falling apart. Throat too tight to speak, Cisco gives a tiny, jerky shake of his head. A wordless no.

Because he had done something wrong. Something unforgivably, unfixably wrong. Something that could never be undone. No control z, no going back to the last save point. No making it any less than it is.

Cisco's chin wobbles a little and his eyes fill with tears. He can't keep looking at Eddie, head falling forward, hair shielding him, blocking out some of the awful fluorescent light and the sight of people all around them. ]

I should've-

[ But he can't get any further. No more words would come, and Cisco couldn't hold it back any longer. His shoulders start to shake and he tries to keep quiet as he can as he cries. ]

[He'd already known - how guilty Cisco would be, how bad he would feel, how he would be sure that it was his fault, that he'd done something wrong. That he was a murderer. It's obvious that Eddie had assumed correctly, that Cisco is struggling, that he's guilty and full of regret, and for a moment, Eddie's chest aches, he wishes he could take that pain and guilt away from Cisco, that he could make it so Cisco feels the way he does - happy that Cisco is alive and here and that he'd defended himself. Proud of him for protecting the people around him.

When Cisco's chin wobbles and his eyes go red around the edges, wet and hot, and Eddie's do too. His throat feels tight, his chest aches and he feels a clenching hurt in his gut. He knows that there's nothing he can do to fix this, to make it go away. Then Cisco is saying he should've...something. He should've done something, and Eddie knows, he has gone through all those motions about things in his life, all the things he should have or could have done to change them.]

No baby. No. You did what you did, okay?

[Gathering him in closer, he holds Cisco as he starts to tremble with tears, buries his face into Cisco's hair, and rubs his back in wide, smooth circles, eyes closing.]

Let's go home, okay? Let's go home where you're safe, okay? You did what you did, Cisco, and telling yourself all the things you should and could have done is just...it's never going to stop. There was no good option, okay?

[ Cisco gives a tiny nod - acknowledging Eddie's words, even if he doesn't agree. After all, Eddie is just assuming there were no good options. He wasn't there. He only has the information Cisco gave him, and that's barely anything so far. Once Cisco explains, lays out the whole scene, well... Eddie might not think the same, then. In fact, he almost certainly won't.

But he does want to go home. It has always been Cisco's instinct, whenever he is hurt or vulnerable, to hide. To find a place where no one will be able to see anything apart from the smiling, joking, carefree, capable, best version of himself.

He lets Eddie direct him out the doors, to the car. His hands still feel numb, but the motions of opening the door, sitting, doing up his seatbelt, are all automatic by now. He can do them without needing to be able to see through his tears, much. Cisco lets his head tip to the side, resting his forehead against the window, watching the city go by in a haze. For a while, the silence and the motion bring back that numb feeling, and Cisco is grateful. It doesn't feel real. He can't have really killed somebody. That can't be a thing that's true, in the waking world.

Until he adjusts the angle if his head, feels the brush of his hair against his cheek. Only it feels wrong. There's a lock of his hair that's stiff and clumped together, and Cisco realizes a moment later that it must be dried blood. He had washed his hands, had changed into this strange shirt, but there is still blood in his hair. Someone's. He doesn't know whose.

Then all at once it is real again, and he covers his face entirely with his hands, as if he could block it out. He knows he must be freaking Eddie out, which is the only reason he doesn't scream or swear. Instead he just curls forward, presses his forehead to his knees and just stays like that. Unconvincingly, he reassures: ]

Don't worry, I'm okay, I'm just...

[ There's no way of ending that sentence, no word that will fit. He just braces himself like that for the rest of the ride, thoughts running amok. He starts to make a list for himself, of things he needs to find out. What was the guy's name? Did he have a family here, or significant other or anything like that? Was anyone at the club exhibition hurt? Did all of this end up on the news? Was that laser even capable of a lethal shot to begin with? What was the cause of death - the vibe blast or the table? Is there going to be a funeral? Has Eddie every killed anybody? Did he go to their funerals? Is that something people do? ]

[The reassurance does very little for Eddie - he doesn't believe for a moment that Cisco is okay, that he's just fine, because he's curled over, hunched in on himself, hiding his face. Eddie keeps driving, eyes on the road, mouth pursed.

Honestly, he believes that there were no good options. In a situation like that, there never are good options. Everything is bad. He'd heard the check-ins on the radio, he'd had a chance to glance over a couple reports, and he knows. Cisco could have not talked to the guy, but there's no reason to believe that talking to someone will automatically result in violence. There was no predicting that. Cisco could have not fought back, but then far more bystanders would have been hurt, Cisco could have been hurt much worse, or killed.

Eddie knows, instinctively in his gut, that he would rather the other guy died than Cisco. It's bad, it leaves him feeling guilty, but there's no denying it.]

It's okay to not be okay, Cisco.

[He says it soft, voice patient as he pulls up into their parking space, stops the car. Glancing over at Cisco, he frowns a bit, mouth curved down at the corners, reaches out to touch Cisco's shoulder, squeezing and rubbing gently.]

You ready to go inside?

[ Cisco only realizes the car has stopped after Eddie asks the question. He raises his head, face a bit flushed from bending over, looking around. It's strange, how a place that is so familiar it has become invisible can suddenly look new. Cisco feels like he is seeing it for the first time.

Is everything going to look different, now? ]

Yeah.

[ He gets out and walks to the apartment. Cisco tries hard not to drag his feet or hang his head or any of those things he wants so badly to do right now, because he wants to show Eddie that he's alright, he's going to keep it together. When they're both inside, Cisco brushes his hair out of his face, an automatic gesture, feels the blood in it again. For one moment, the impulsive thought enters his head that he should just grab a pair of scissors and hack it all off. Some kind of self-punishment.

There's no saying if he would have given into that impulse, if he were alone, but Eddie is there, and so Cisco dismisses the thought, turning to his boyfriend instead and saying: ]

I gotta shower. I'm really gross right now.

[ In a way, Cisco thinks it would be easier if Eddie weren't here right now, if he were all by himself to sink deep into his thoughts and not have to say anything, not have to be a person. But maybe... it's for the best. Hard as it is, forcing himself to look up, ask, in a small voice: ]

Do you need to get back to work?

[It's impossible, trying to know what's going on inside Cisco's mind right now. His expression is unreadable, his eyes half-lidded and hidden by his hair, his mouth set in a straight line that doesn't give anything away but misery, without making it clear what kind it is, how Eddie can alleviate it.

His stomach clenches, and he gets out of the car on his side as well, walks inside with Cisco, sticking close to him, a hand on the small of his back to support and encourage him. Cisco is faking it - that much Eddie can tell. He's keeping himself together and Eddie knows it's for his benefit, and not Cisco's, and that hurts. He doesn't understand why Cisco would need to hide his hurt from him, when he never has before. Wonders if it's the guilt, the shock, or if it's because of the things that have changed inside him because he's killed someone.

When Cisco says he has to shower, Eddie licks his lips, his eyes on Cisco's face, anxious and a little twisted up. Usually he knows what to say because he knows what's going on in Cisco's mind, because he has some kind of experience in what's happening to him, can relate in some way. This...he understands, but he can't relate, has no experience.]

I'm not going back to work.

[For a moment, he's quiet, his heart in his throat, not breathing properly, and he reaches out to Cisco, doesn't touch him, drops his hand before he can.]

Do you want me to come with you? Into the shower?

[ Cisco sees that gesture - the way Eddie reaches out, hesitates, and changes his mind. Rationally he knows that Eddie is probably just struggling with how best to comfort him. He knows that sometimes Eddie feels like he doesn't know the right things to say, that he's probably just worried.

But that doesn't stop all the alarm bells from going off in Cisco's head at once. Eddie's spent his whole career putting away murderers. He'd probably never thought the man he lives with would become one. He is probably disgusted. Probably won't be able to bring himself to touch Cisco all much, anymore.

A tear spills down onto his cheek and Cisco brushes it off quickly, turning away, playing it off as if he's just heading towards the bathroom. He should give Eddie an out. Say he wants some alone time. But instead, voice cracking, he says: ]

Please?

[ If it's weak and selfish, then hell. At least it's not the worst thing he did today.

The roomiest shower is attached to what used to be Eddie's bedroom; Cisco heads in there, pulling off his clothes in the space that is now half-workshop half-gym. He doesn't pull his clothes off and strew them all over the place, the way he does sometimes when he is pulling Eddie in with him to make out in the shower, or after a long day of scavenging, even though he can feel Eddie's quiet annoyance at the mess. Instead, he folds up the shirt from the hospital, neatly, leaves it on the work bench. He undresses the rest of the way, begins to fold the jeans, until he gets to the blood-stains. Face crumpling, he shoves them instead into the trash bin.

He speaks then, voice harsher, raw and awful, all the hollowness and fake calm gone, the words tearing on the way out: ]

I feel like I'm having a nightmare but I can't wake up and it just keeps going.

[It hadn't occurred to Eddie, to be disgusted by Cisco, to think of him as a murderer. What Cisco had done isn't murder, in his mind. It was an accident, self-defense, a terrible side-effect of unnecessary violence on the other man's part.

Eddie doesn't see the tear, but he sees the way Cisco turns away from him, heads toward the bathroom and starts stripping - but he says 'please' and that means that he wants Eddie with him, that he isn't shutting him out. Not more than he has so far, at least, and so Eddie follows him, gladly, he strips out of his clothes and leaves them hanging over the back of a chair as he follows Cisco further into the room and toward the bathroom. He sees him shove his bloodstained jeans into the garbage, his chest and throat tightening again, and closes the door behind them as Cisco continues to speak.]

I'm sorry baby. I know that feeling, maybe not as bad as you're feeling it right now. I just...please know I love you, okay? When you wake up, I'm going to be here beside you.

[Shifting, he turns on the water, getting it heated up and ready, glancing back to Cisco as his boyfriend stands there.]

I'm here beside you now. I love you so much.

I love you, too.

[ For just one moment, after Eddie says he knows what Cisco is feeling, he thinks Eddie is going to tell him about the first time he'd killed someone. It would make sense, given the context, for him to share his own experiences, how he'd felt, how he'd coped. But instead, he just reassures Cisco that he still loves him, that he's not going anywhere.

That reassurance does help some - at least it quiets the panic that Eddie is repulsed by him, now - but a possibility is dawning on Cisco. He'd always just assumed that Eddie had had to kill someone at some point in his career. In self-defense, to protect innocents. Cisco knows that Joe has. But why had he just assumed that would be true, for Eddie? Now, he's questioning that. ]

You haven't- I mean, you've never...

[ Sure, there was Eobard, but that was different. And it makes sense, now that he thinks about it. Eddie's too damn good at his job to have been put in a situation where that was necessary. Even before he'd discovered his powers, he'd been too clever, too careful, too good to ever mess up that badly.

Cisco looks down then and sees that his hands aren't as clean as he'd thought. He'd only given them a quick wash at the hospital, and there's still a small amount of blood under his fingernails. Cisco turns on the sink (and the water pressure is low thanks to the shower) and starts cleaning his nails with a slight air of panic. ]

Edited 2018-06-18 01:44 (UTC)

[Truth is, Eddie hasn't ever killed someone - he's injured people, he's wounded them badly, he's had to shoot at people, but he's never killed someone. It isn't because he was good or careful or clever, though, as far as he's concerned. It was luck. Pure luck.

And so he knows that it was simply luck that made this happen too. That it was just bad circumstances that put Cisco in the wrong place with the wrong person and the wrong furniture, in the wrong situation.

When Cisco looks at him and asks if he's ever...and Eddie doesn't need the end of that sentence to know what Cisco was asking...he shakes his head.]

It's probably going to happen someday. I hope it doesn't, and it hasn't yet, but I've never...I've hurt people, but never...

[Lifting a hand, he reaches out to touch Cisco's hair, pushing some of it back from his face, he feels that clump of blood-soaked strands and shivers, winces just a little, before Cisco is turning to the sink and starting to scrub at his hands.]

Hey. Hey, go easy, Cisco...

[Walking over, he takes hold of Cisco's wrists, careful, shakes his head and takes over the task, holding Cisco's hands firm and gentle, brushing blood out from under the nails, letting it melt away with the hot water.]

We're going to get you clean, okay? I promise. Just try to go easy on yourself, because...because hurting yourself isn't going to make it easier, isn't going to make it hurt less, and you've got no reason to...you don't deserve that baby. Please.

[ Eddie can't bring himself to say it out loud, either. At least Cisco's guess just now had been right. He smiles, suddenly, nodding. His eyes are swimming with tears again, but the smile is not forced, not an attempt to mask the fact that he's in pain. It is all pain, somehow more awful than any grimace could possibly be. Amidst the guilt and awfulness, he feels a fierce relief that Eddie hasn't gone through this, at least. ]

Good. I'm- I'm glad one of us-

[ He feels Eddie touching his hair, the way he does so often. Eddie is always burying his fingers in Cisco's hair, when they're laying on the couch together watching movies, when Cisco has had a bad dream, when Cisco is doing the dishes, when Cisco is just waking up next to him. Before Cisco can speak up and warn him, he feels Eddie's touch falter, draw away slightly. Out of everything, that is the final straw that breaks the camel's back. It might not make sense, from an outside perspective, that that is what makes Cisco's back heave with sobs. But Eddie has always touched his hair with such gentleness, such love. And now, it feels as if that's been dirtied, quite literally.

Cisco doesn't resist as Eddie takes his hands and starts to clean his nails less ruthlessly. He just lets him, hot tears spilling onto his cheeks as he gives in and just sobs. When Eddie says he doesn't deserve to hurt himself, Cisco chokes out: ]

D-don't I?

No. You don't.

[It's firm, vehement, spoken forcefully but without any anger behind it. Eddie is serious, he means what he's saying, and he tries to catch Cisco's eyes when he does, his hands coming up to Cisco's face again, even though they're wet with slightly brownish water.]

You don't.

[But Cisco is crying, now, his shoulders shaking and his head ducking down, tears rolling down his cheeks and Eddie abandons Cisco's nails, opting to pull him toward the shower, guiding him inside. Eyes on his face, Eddie pulls him into the hot spray of water, lifting his hands to start working water through his hair from root to tip.]

It's okay, Cisco. Let it out, okay? I'm going to be here. And when you can, we can talk, you can tell me about it, talk through it.

[ For a while, Cisco can't bring himself to talk. At least the sound of the shower dampens the sound of his harsh, jagged sobs, and the hot water is soothing to Cisco, almost against his wishes. Because he doesn't believe Eddie is right. He deserves to hurt, deserves to feel like garbage. But Eddie's hands in his hair are gentle again, and Cisco can see the blood coming out of his hair, from the faint redness of the water falling down and slipping past his feet and to the drain.

He cries himself out in a few minutes, and feels after like he has purged himself of something. He still feels miserable, and shaken, and guilty, but the worst of his shock and self-hatred and wretchedness is gone. Cisco looks up at Eddie, the wet hair plastered to the sides of his face, but that awful yawning horror behind his eyes is less. ]

I recognized him. I should've just- I don't know what I was thinking.

[ But that's a lie, and Cisco cannot let himself lie. Not now, at least. He could lie to anyone else about it - anybody at all - and forgive himself in some measure. But it has never felt more important in all his life than to be as detailed and honest as he can right now, in this moment, with the man he loves. He has to tell Eddie all of it, give Eddie the chance to judge him with all the facts. Nothing softened, nothing held back. ]

No. I was thinking, if I didn't do something right then, he'd get away, and I would be pissed that he'd gotten away with it. It was- it was a pride thing. When he fooled the security, stole from my workshop. Stole my designs. I hated the guy and I wanted to catch him so I could win.

[ There's an air of desperation in Cisco's voice, tight and still interrupted by the occasional shaky half-sob. It feels, more than anything else, like a confession. Not to a priest, not to a police officer - but to the person whose opinion and authority matters most to him. Eddie's always had a stronger moral compass than him. He'd never been fooled by Dr. Wells, had never let Joe or Barry or Singh or anyone talk him into anything that went against his sense of right and wrong. ]

I guess- I mean I must've looked like I meant trouble. I shouted to get his attention, and I was walking over, and he- he pulled a gun.

[ Cisco touches the waterproof bandage covering his cheek, eyes going unfocused for a moment as he remembers how close it came, with that first shot. He'd only just gotten out of the way. He was so sure, as soon as he dodged that shot... ]

He was- I mean, I'm not sure, but, I really thought, he's trying to kill me. I mean he wasn't- there was no warning shot or- or aiming for the knees or you know. Just. And I tried to talk to him, get him to stop, but he just kept firing. Everybody was screaming and running... and I saw people falling, you know, and knocking stuff over, and I was really scared someone was gonna decide to play hero and jump in and then he'd shoot them. There were some people who were- they were kind of lingering, and I shouted at them to run, to just get out of there. And he- I told you that... I mean the way he broke in in the first place was he can go invisible. So he did that, and I was like-

[ Cisco's throat is starting to close up again, but the words are coming too fast now for him to stop, even as his voice comes out cracked with emotion ]

-I thought for sure that was it. You know? I was- was g-gonna die again, 'cause I don't know the f-first thing about fighting, and how am I gonna fight somebody that I c-can't even see?

[It makes perfect sense, that Cisco can't get the words together at first. Eddie imagines, with a sick clenching in his gut, that it's probably hard to find words for what Cisco's feeling, that Cisco is probably ashamed of what he's feeling, what he's done. It isn't just the tears, Eddie can tell, though he knows that the way Cisco is crying, with those harsh sobs that wrack his entire body, would make it impossible to speak. While Cisco is gathering himself, emotionally, mentally, finding his words, crying out his tears and emotions, Eddie busies himself with washing Cisco's hair, gently massaging water through it, squeezing their coconut scented shampoo into his hands and lathering it through Cisco's hair, working the tips of his fingers in soothing circles against his scalp.

The suds go slightly brown-red, and Eddie winces, glad that Cisco's head is ducked so he can't see the reaction, a gut instinct. Death and violence are repulsive to Eddie, they always have been. They're things he tries his best to stop, even when that means he has to engage in violence himself. He's shot people. He's tased them. He's tackled them. He's killed himself and in doing it caused someone else to not exist. But he's never done what Cisco's done. He's never directly killed someone. It's a terrible thought, and Eddie tries to keep himself from dwelling on it, from attaching that label to Cisco - a person who's killed. That's not who Cisco is. Cisco is someone who had an accident and someone's life ended. Cause and effect with no malice, no plan, no reason, nothing to gain and everything to lose.

Eddie listens quietly, and all the while he rinses Cisco's hair of suds, squeezes more shampoo through it, scraping his nails and the tips of his fingers against Cisco's scalp until no more blood runs out of it, and then rinsing again. Squeezing conditioner into his hands and working it through Cisco's hair, into his scalp, down the thick, smooth, wet curls of it. Cisco's voice is tight and shaky, he's still crying while he speaks, and his explanation has that slightly plaintive edge of confession in it. Like he's telling Eddie all the things he thought and felt and saw and experienced in order to vent it out of himself. Like Eddie is a judge and Cisco needs to be pardoned or condemned.

As Cisco describes it, his certainty that he was about to be killed, that the guy hadn't aimed over his head or at the ceiling or anywhere that could be construed as a warning, that people had been screaming and running, that there had been a stampede, he feels a chill go down his spine. It could have been so much worse, and Eddie can see it in his head - people getting trampled, shot, pushed into things, hurt and killed. He can picture how Cisco had been crying for them to run away, to get away while they could so they wouldn't be hurt, can imagine the guy disappearing.

Eddie's breath catches in his throat.]

Baby, if you shouted...if you were walking over, maybe he thought you meant trouble. But that's no excuse to pull a weapon on you. That's no reason to shoot to kill, not alone in an alley, not in a crowded room full of people. Innocent people who had nothing to do with that. I know it feels like you started it, but you didn't, baby. That wasn't you.

[Exhaling heavily, he presses his palms against Cisco's cheeks, lifts his head a bit, eyes catching Cisco's.]

Maybe you wanted to yell at him. Maybe you wanted to argue. Maybe you even wanted to punch him in his smug face, or threaten a lawsuit. None of that means you deserved to get shot at. None of that means it's your fault that he escalated to lethal force. Okay?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[semi-open] it was so quiet

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject