[open] cancel your reservations

[franciscoramon]

who: cisco + anyone!
what: catch-all, amnesia event
when: august
where: anywhere; if you want a starter, please hit me up!
warnings: discussion of murder, use of alcohol to cope, will add more as needed

i. pre-amnesia (august 5-10)

[ Cisco knows that he is probably opening himself up to a world of headaches and unnecessary trouble, but there have been plenty of new arrivals, and more and more he is noticing that people who show up from non-technologically advanced worlds simply have no support system to really teach them all the cool things they can do even with their phones, not to mention other machines and devices. So, one day when there's a lull between projects for the RPD and other emergency services, he goes to a print shop and has flyers made:

TECHNOLOGICAL CULTURE SHOCK??? NEED LESSONS ON HOW TO USE YOUR PHONE, LAPTOP, OR OTHER ELECTRONIC GADGET??? STOP BY THE ADDRESS BELOW FOR A FREE INFORMAL LESSON!!!

Normally it's the kind of announcement he would make over the network, but what if someone is really struggling and can't even get on there? No, flyers seem like the way to go for this crowd. Cisco adds some fine print at the bottom, below the address for his workshop, but all it says is:

*NO HIDDEN AGENDA JUST A HELPFUL DUDE WANTING TO SHARE THE WONDERS OF TECHNOLOGY, LESSONS ARE FREE BUT TRIBUTE PAID IN CANDY IS ALWAYS ACCEPTED]

ii. amnesia (august 12-19)

[ The changes in Cisco are not, at first, as obvious as they may be in other people. He remembers Riverview, and everyone he has met here, and all the details of his life in this place. He remembers his name, all the movies and video games that he loves, all the technical skills and scientific know-how necessary for his job. He even remembers most stuff about his own past - that he worked at S.T.A.R. Labs, that he's a member of Team Flash and friend to Barry Allen. That he is a metahuman, with various abilities tied to manipulating multidimensional energy.

The only thing that has been carved away from his memory is, in fact, Eobard Thawne. Cisco doesn't remember his mentor's betrayal, or being murdered, or the circumstances that surrounded him discovering his powers. All of the shame and dread he's been carrying about his powers, because of Eobard and the things he'd said and done, has just vanished. In addition, Cisco's trauma over that whole experience is, for the moment, covered over. To anyone who knows him even a little he will seem inexplicably younger. Quicker to smile and laugh, volumes more trusting, and also a lot more inclined to talk about some guy named Dr. Wells in a positive, even devoted manner.

Cisco will spend this week doing what he usually does - working at his workshop (still offering those lessons), trying out new restaurants, shopping for graphic tees and games and movies, exploring the safe parts of the city a little - but with an extra spring in his step. If you've wanted your character to find out about him being a metahuman, now would be a good time for it! ]

iii. post-amnesia (august 20-31)

[ The not-remembering? Had been good. But when that's done, and all of Cisco's memories are restored to him, the transition is... rough. Putting it mildly. Back when all of it had happened, there had been so much going on - one life-or-death situation after the other - that he hadn't had time to linger too much on how he was changing, being shaped into an older, sadder, more broken version of himself.

Now, though, there is no big crisis, no distraction to divert his attention. One minute he is the old, sunny Cisco - the one he still thinks of as the person he was supposed to be - and the next, it all comes rushing back. The contrast is stark, and it's kind of fucking him up a little. Or, rather, a lot.

He goes back to having nightmares almost as often as he did in those first weeks after his death, which means he isn't getting a whole lot of sleep, and it shows in the dark circles under his eyes. Cisco withdraws somewhat - not enough to worry that he's abandoning anyone, but he takes longer to answer texts, doesn't reach out to people first, doesn't go out and about in the evenings. He is quieter, with considerably more strain behind his smiles. He throws himself into his work, staying in his workshop long hours, sometimes falling asleep there, for a few fitful hours. When he can't work any more, he spends a little more time than he should in some nearby bars, drinking a little more than he ought to, trying not to think about the person he is now compared to the person he was the week before. ]

iv. misc

[ Come plot something! ]

Comments

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco hesitates a moment, standing by the side of Eddie's bed and playing with the hem of his t-shirt. Would it be better to borrow Eddie's clothes, or to sleep in a state of semi-undress beside Eddie? Which is more of an imposition - which more of a dangerous intimacy that he isn't sure he has earned, yet? Eddie hadn't made the choice very easy, and Cisco gets a little stuck, trying to weigh the pros and cons.

Which is, perhaps, silly. But there are a lot of things right now that Cisco feels he cannot control. He had been wrong about Eddie and about the state of things between them. He had been wrong about Dr. Wells. Had been wrong about not having amnesia. So it seems suddenly, urgently important to make sure that for this one thing he actually has a choice in, that he makes the right call.

Eventually he has stalled too much and is starting to let himself think about all the things he wants to avoid, so he makes an impulse choice, based purely on what he wants. He moves over to the dresser and pulls open a few drawers, dragging out the first pair of sweats that he sees. It's on to the closet, next, where he pushes a few hangers aside to find a sweater that he has seen Eddie wearing around the house - one that looks old and soft and cozy. Cisco pulls the sweater on, pushes the too-long sleeves up as he quickly changes from his jeans into the sweatpants.

As he is changing, he says, jerkily. ]

Naw, I'm an awkward nerd whose biggest idol was apparently a- a murdering psycho and I didn't even notice, and you're this big damn hero who martyred himself to save everybody and also just happens to look like a swimsuit model and be really good at volleyball, and cooking, and...

[ But he stops there, biting his lower lip. He pulls the hood of the sweater up and over his head, tightening it. He slips in under the covers of the bed and, after a second's hesitation, reaches up to turn off the bedside lamp. He doesn't move closer to Eddie, or get comfortable, yet. Just stretches out, legs straight, lying on his back.

In the sudden darkness, it's harder to push away those thoughts he's been avoiding. But it is, at least, a little easier to talk. ]

It doesn't feel real yet.

[causational]

[Eddie can see Cisco's hesitation, but he isn't exactly sure what's causing it. It doesn't occur to him that Cisco might be feeling hesitant and torn over which option he should take because, in Eddie's mind, both are perfectly acceptable. There is no wrong answer, neither option is too intimate or an imposition.

When Cisco digs in his dresser and then his closet, pulls out a big comfy hoodie and a pair of sweats, Eddie smiles at him and pats the bed beside himself again. Once Cisco has changed, pulled the hood over his head and adjusted the sleeves and cuffs, climbed into the bed beside Eddie, the light is off and Eddie's reaching down to pull the blankets up over both of them. Shifting a bit, Eddie turns to face Cisco in the bed, resting his head on one of the big, soft pillows. Cisco's body is tense, he lies on his back and doesn't move, praises Eddie and then says that this doesn't feel real yet. Eddie guesses that he means everything with Eobard, the amnesia, with Eddie being dead, and he makes a soft noise in his throat.

Reaching out, tentatively, he rests his hand on Cisco's stomach, fingers curling so he can gently rub, comforting.]

Cisco, you're not awkward. I mean, sometimes, yes, but everyone is, including me. I'm awkward a lot. And there's nothing wrong with believing in the people you care about, overlooking their flaws and forgiving them. It's my job to see red flags and warning signs, so I saw them. You're genuine and trusting and you believe in people, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. It's one of my favourite things about you.

[Shifting a bit closer, Eddie licks his lips and flattens his hand, sliding it gently against Cisco's belly and chest, avoiding going up near his heart, just yet.]

Can I hold you?

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco doesn't say anything for a few moments - from the sound of it, Eddie had suspected Dr. Wells of being up to something before Cisco ever did. He still can't recall any of it, can't force those dark patches in his memory to light up. But he wonders what his past self was thinking - why he didn't listen to Eddie, if Eddie had warned him.

He can hear and feel Eddie coming closer within the bed, the way his hand moves ever so slightly in small motions, over his stomach. It helps, a little, with that feeling like his guts are tying themselves into knots. When Eddie asks if he can hold him, Cisco shuts his eyes, a too-hot tear spilling from the corner of own and spilling sideways down towards his ear. ]

Please.

[ Cisco can't seem to make himself un-tense, or initiate contact, but he badly wants to be held again, to have something to ground him when it feels like the world is shifting around beneath his feet. ]

Was it Caitlin or Barry who found me? Or... was it you, or Joe? Did he- did he try to hide my b-body?

[ For some reason it is this - thinking about the mundane, banal details of any possible cover-up, that finally shatter what little is left of Cisco's composure. He starts to cry again, almost silently, his gasps for air in between sobs the only sound he makes, sharp and painful-sounding. ]

[causational]

[While Eddie hadn't had a chance to warn anyone, Joe certainly had, but that's not on Eddie's mind, not really. Honestly, all of Cisco's reactions and everyone else's had made sense at the time, considering how good a manipulator Eobard had been, how much they'd trusted him, how much time he'd taken to set himself up as a trustworthy person with a genuine background using the life he'd stolen.

In fact, Eddie's mind is occupied with Cisco, with his soft, needy 'please' and the fact that his body is still tense, that he's not moving to get closer on his own. So Eddie slides forward, gently gathers Cisco up into his arms and helps roll him onto his side. Fitting himself against Cisco's back, he wraps arms around him and pulls their bodies close. With the hood up, he can't bury his face into Cisco's hair, but he does hold him, nuzzles into the back of his neck, his arm tight around Cisco's waist and hand pressed against the base of his sternum.]

I don't know. I don't know the details. I think Barry might've changed the timeline before any of us even knew...Cisco...

[And then Cisco is crying, and Eddie shifts, lifts himself slightly on one elbow so he can gently gather Cisco closer, into both his arms, so he can bury his face down against the side of Cisco's and twine their legs together and squeeze him close while he cries huge, horrible wracking sobs.

Eddie doesn't say anything at first. There's nothing to say, nothing that will make Cisco feel better, nothing that will make the pain of the betrayal go away. But he holds him close, he makes soft comforting noises in his throat while the worst of it tears through Cisco's body and when they ease a little, Eddie finally speaks.]

You're safe now, Cisco. I'm never gonna let something like that happen to you again. I'm never gonna let anyone hurt you like that...I'm sorry, baby...

[It comes out of him without him meaning to say it, and when he realizes he has, he doesn't bother to correct it, just goes back to making those soft humming noises in his throat.]

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco feels an obscure but intense guilt, as he cries, and Eddie makes shushing noises, pulls him in close and holds him tightly. Does he have any right, to be so upset? When he must have already been through all this, before. Even if Eddie had not held him this way the first time through, surely he'd at least witnessed Cisco's meltdown. He'd been aware of it, and now he's getting a rerun, and Cisco knows how tedious those can be. And he doesn't even remember any of it, anyway - so he ought to be fine. These tears are superfluous - are self-indulgence, and he ought to suck it up for once. But he can't seem to stop crying - that, too, suggests the truth of all this, that some part of him remembers.

Maybe it is better, not knowing what Dr. Wells had done with his body, what his plan had been. Sure, it means his imagination is running wild, constructing far too many scenarios that are making Cisco wish he'd watched fewer crime shows, so his brain had less material to draw from.

But Eddie's arms are tight around him, constricting him in a way that helps to ease the fear and nausea, that makes him feel like he won't tumble down into that yawning gulf of sadness. He cries himself out quickly, subsiding into shivery, hiccuping little sobs, and then relaxing at last, breaths growing ever steadier. ]

Thank you.

[ Cisco reaches up to wipe his face with the sleeve of that sweater, pushes down the hood, because he had cried on it and the damp fabric against his skin is annoying. He is still sniffly and his head hurts, now, but he feels a bit better having purged himself of those tears. Eddie is warm and solid against his back; Cisco can feel him breathing, and the steady rhythm of it is more soothing than he would have thought possible. ]

Can you just- can you talk to me? About anything. Anything that's not...

[ He gives a small shrug that Eddie will be able to feel, wrapped around him as he is. ]

[causational]

[The truth is, Eddie has never seen Cisco grieve about this, has never really dealt with the fallout of that. Cisco had basically made a joke about it, when Eddie first found out, an off-the-cuff comment about his heart being shredded, and that had been bad enough. But back then he hadn't been close enough to Cisco to see any of the real emotional response.

Now, he's experiencing it, and it isn't tedious, it isn't annoying - it's hard, certainly, to see someone he cares about suffer so much, to hold him as he sobs out his grief, his slim body shaking against Eddie's, his tears soaking the sweater of Eddie's that he's wearing. So Eddie just holds him, tries to alleviate some of the pain, tries to ease it, a little, with his presence, with his care, with the soft noises he makes and the reassurances that Cisco is safe now, protected.

And when Cisco pulls his hood down, wipes at his face, Eddie buries his face into Cisco's hair and kisses his temple and cheek, nuzzling against him. That request for Eddie to talk about things makes him panic a little, he's never been very good at making things up to talk about, but after a few seconds, he thinks of something.]

So, remember when I mentioned that I was still losing some of the weight in college, and I used to do boxing competitions? Well, one time this completely hilarious thing happened...

[And it's easier, then, to talk. Eddie tells Cisco stories about his boxing tournaments in college, about his gym trips, about his ill-advised trips to the club before he'd turned 21 and dodging the bouncers. He keeps talking, until Cisco finally drifts off a bit, still weak from crying, limp in his arms, and it takes him another hour after that to fall asleep himself.]