[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

[causational]

[Cisco immediately lets go of him and slides to the side of the bed, and Eddie moves with him, both because Cisco is tugging him along and because the way he's moving is familiar, the practiced movements of someone who wants to share a bed. It only takes a few seconds before Eddie is lying down on his back and Cisco is curling against his side - Eddie takes it a step further, sliding an arm around Cisco's shoulders and hauling him up a little, against his body, with Cisco's head against his chest. They're both warm with fever, but it feels nice, anyway, to be pressed together in the bed.

As Cisco curls up against him, speaking quietly, Eddie makes a soft hum in his throat, shifts his hand so he can bury it back into Cisco's hair, gently playing with it while Cisco speaks. Explains all the trouble going on in his mind, the traps his emotions have set for his logic, his fears and anxieties and struggle with understanding himself and who he is now, in the wake of trauma.]

It's okay. If I've learned anything since I started working with Barry and the rest of you, it's that feeling safe isn't a given. It's not something that just happens. It's something you have to learn, and relearn every time something compromises it. That's just part of being a person, you know? You'll learn it again.

[It takes him a moment to parse how to respond when Cisco says that he's been thinking about the past week, how he was and how he is now and that question of whether Eobard broke something in him that can't be fixed. Shaking his head slightly, he sighs and presses a kiss into Cisco's hair, and when he speaks again, it's soft, barely above a whisper.]

You're not broken, Cisco. You're different, yes, but that doesn't make you broken. People can be broken, I've seen it, and that's not you. People who are broken aren't trying anymore, they've given up, on themselves, on the world, on life, and that's so far removed from you and who you are and hat you stand for that...there's no way, Cisco.

[Exhaling into Cisco's hair, he makes a soft hum to try to comfort him a bit before speaking again.]

He changed you. He changed all of us, me included. But that doesn't make any of us broken, including you. You aren't worse now than you were before. Okay?

[And, when Cisco asks that question, his voice tight and small and forlorn, Eddie's throat feels tight too.]

Because I care about you. Because you deserve to be cared for. You're always supporting everyone around you, in every way possible, and that's one of the things I really like about you. That I'm attracted to. And I want to make you feel the same way you make everyone else around you feel.

[franciscoramon]

[ The logical part of Cisco's mind knows that what Eddie is saying is the truth. He won't feel this bad forever. It had been awful, for the first few months after he'd died, and Eobard had died, and the singularity and the rest of it. But then, things had, by tiny degrees, begun to soften. He'd come here, and that had made things easier. Bit by bit he'd crawled out of that hole, and he thinks he can probably do it again.

And he knows, too, that he would never look at Barry, or Caitlin, or Eddie, and call them broken because of how Eobard had changed them. But it is so hard, taking that and applying it to himself. Cisco can't shake the feeling that he had become a worse person - more paranoid, more needy, more weak. It's hard, trying to talk himself into not feeling those things.

At least it doesn't have to happen all at once. Cisco sighs, a little tremulous. He can't stand his own thoughts, can't stand being himself right now. But Eddie is there, tracing fingers through his hair, pressing little kisses into it. So Cisco shifts his attention to him, and the way it feels to have him so close. He'd dreamed about this, and it's happening, but in such a different way than he had hoped. ]

I hope you're right.

[ That's all Cisco can manage to say; it sounds woefully inadequate, particularly in the face of Eddie's eloquence. And yet words have never been Cisco's strong suit, in times of stress, and they are failing him right now. But maybe that's okay. Cisco forces himself to relax, pressing his cheek against Eddie's collarbone and letting his eyes sink shut. Eddie is too hot, his skin just a little damp to the touch, and there had been something a bit worrying earlier about the sound of his coughs.

Cisco asks: ]

That tea make you sick, too?

[causational]

[Cisco is quiet for a long time, and that's okay - it takes time, processing this sort of thing, and there's no way that a few words from Eddie are going to correct the damage that Eobard has done, not in such a short time. Besides, none of this is to comfort Eddie, it's all for Cisco. So Eddie is simply present, and quiet, and gives Cisco space and time to think and try to internalize it, try to believe it, while Eddie just holds him, a calm, quiet support.

He keeps kissing into Cisco's hair, soft little things, almost mindless, comforting and gentle. Whatever bad things Cisco is thinking about himself, Eddie wants to contradict with his words and his actions, his gentle care, his affection. So he holds him and kisses his hair and strokes it, squeezes gently and firmly around Cisco's shoulders, trying to demonstrate how much Cisco is worth, how he's lovable and not a broken bad person.]

I know I am. I see you, Cisco.

[His voice is quiet, and it's only when Cisco asks if the tea made him sick that Eddie remembers himself, how too-hot and too-cold he is, how stiff and sore. Making a soft, humorous noise in his throat, he nuzzles into Cisco's hair, eyes falling shut.]

Mm-hmm. I heard it passes pretty quickly though. I'll be fine.

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco is so deeply unaccustomed to this - Eddie's particular brand of being present, of persistent, tender physical reassurance. He's no stranger to contact, sure. But usually, when he had sought comfort with others, it had been a sexual thing. In theory, that ought to be more intimate, but the truth is, this far outstrips it.

With Barry and Caitlin, what comfort they had provided had been mostly verbal - reassurances, promises - but with just brief touches to his shoulder, maybe a hug if he was actually crying. He doesn't know what to do with this: with Eddie stroking his hair, kissing it a dozen times, over and over, soft little presses of his mouth. Cisco's throat goes tight, because Eddie's answer had not solved the mystery for him yet, of why Eddie would treat him this way. Just caring about him can't be it, can it?

He swallows, but there's a tiny bit of roughness in his voice when he offers: ] I can make you stew tomorrow. Family recipe and all. It'll make you feel better.

[causational]

[It feels better than it should just to lie in bed feeling ill and vulnerable and holding Cisco close against himself, Cisco's head against his chest and Eddie's mouth in his hair, and the two of them being quiet while Cisco calms down, slowly but surely, even just a little. Cisco's presence is soothing, makes the fever and chills feel a lot more bearable, and he feels a guilty little thrill of pleasure at the idea of Cisco staying in his bed with him for the next few days, sleeping up against him, a solid presence in his bed. It's been a while since he consistently shared a bed with anyone, and he's missed it, missed the security and comfort of it, and it doesn't matter if Cisco will have nightmares and wake him up, because he'd rather be there with him, beside him, comforting and being comforted, than have a full night of sleep.

This is the moment when Eddie realizes that his feelings for Cisco run a little deeper than he'd realized. Deeper than his feelings for Taako had.

Swallowing hard, he just keeps stroking Cisco's hair and squeezing him gently, eyes closed, face buried into his hair, inhaling the scent of it, of Cisco's conditioner and his sweat and his skin. Giving him time and space and feeling guilty for enjoying it, because Cisco is upset, Cisco is struggling, and Eddie shouldn't have any positive feelings about that, not at all.]

You'd make me a family recipe? I...I'd love that. Seriously.

[franciscoramon]

's not fancy or anything. Just what I like to have when I'm not feeling good.

[ Eddie might not even like it, but at least, if he's ill, his taste buds probably aren't his top priority. It feels good, anyway, deciding on something concrete he can do in return. Some way to help Eddie, the way Eddie is helping him.

They are both quiet for a handful of minutes, no sound but the faint ticking of the clock hanging on Cisco's wall. Bit by bit, the tension leaves him, and he breathes slowly and evenly. There's an awful, trembly, raw feeling that he knows well, that sticks around for hours after a panic attack, but at least the thing itself is over. Eventually, Cisco breaks the silence to say: ]

Thank you. For... being here.

[ Cisco shuts his eyes. There is something he needs to say, something he hasn't laid out explicitly to Eddie, yet. He's sure that Eddie deduced much of it, from Cisco saying he didn't want to go back to Central City. From the way he had spent this last week not only speaking much more fondly of Dr. Wells, but also of Barry and Caitlin. He had mentioned them more, mentioned missing them. Which probably made it clear that, by contrast, he normally doesn't talk about them or missing them as much as perhaps he should. ]

No one really... was there. For me. Between the singularity and me coming here. Barry and Caitlin, they weren't- [ He skirts around it, just shy of speaking any actual ill of them. It is hard enough to accuse them even by implication. ] They had other things on their minds. Joe tried, some, but he had Iris to take care of, and I always wanted to impress him way too much to actually say when I wasn't doing so great.

[ Even that feels too harsh, so Cisco qualifies: ]

It's not their fault. I don't think they realized I wasn't joking about the... PTSD thing. And anyway Caitlin was messed up about Ronnie and Barry was messed up about his mom, but... it took weeks sometimes for them to even text me back. Hard not to feel...

[ Cisco trails off, shrugging just a little, leaving Eddie to fill in the rest of that sentence himself. He feels shame, mostly, which is one of the reasons he's not said it until now. Shame that he had been so happy, thinking he had these great friends who would never desert him, and then realizing he meant much less to them than he had thought. Pathetic, really. ]

[causational]

Doesn't have to be. Comfort food never is. And maybe afterward, you can teach me how to make it so I can make it for you sometime. If you want. I mean. I know family recipes aren't always for sharing...

[Eddie lets his voice trail off because, in the scheme of things, that's not really that important. He's still feeling the surge of emotion from holding Cisco like this and being offered something that Cisco considers special. And, lying quietly in the dark with Cisco against his chest, the high of complicated bad-good feelings slowly starts to dissipate into something more subdued and constant, an affection that runs to the core of him, abides inside him, calm and steady. Eddie feels so full of it that he needs to express it in some way, and so he keeps touching Cisco, running his hand through his hair, along the line of his shoulder, tracing the curve between his side to his hip, pressing his palm against his back, learning the line of his jaw and ear before slipping back into his hair and anchoring there, fitting perfectly against the curve of his skull.

Eddie's hand keeps running that circuit, gentle and careful, while Cisco talks about how things had been back in Central City, and it makes sense. He'd guessed a lot of it from Cisco's behaviour over the past week, but he cherishes the fact that Cisco is telling him, overtly, about what he's feeling. For a few moments, Eddie feels a distinct keening anger, at Cisco's friends, at Barry and Caitlin and Joe, for not taking care of Cisco, for leaving him alone. And he gets that they were all grieving, that it's hard to not be selfish when suffering, but how could they know Cisco, how he is, and not want to make sure that he doesn't feel abandoned?

How could they know Cisco the way they do, and be okay with acting in a way that seems to confirm all of Cisco's deepest fears?]

People who are sad are selfish. It isn't really an excuse for not being a good friend, but that's probably what it was. I don't think it was because of you.

[His voice is gentle, and he leans down to kiss Cisco's hair again, his hand resting against the curve of his waist for a moment.]

I'm sorry that happened, and you were alone. But I promise, this time, you won't be. I'm right here. I want to be here.

[franciscoramon]

I'll teach you.

[ It would have never even occurred to Cisco, to keep the recipe a secret from anyone - particularly not Eddie. It's not like he is some random stranger on the street. He is Cisco's friend. But Cisco realizes, right at that moment, that it goes beyond that. Not that maybe someday they'll go on a real date and it will start to become something beyond that, but that it already is.

He may not have an extensive roster of people he has been close friends with, but Cisco certainly knows, from this experiences and from media, that most friends would not go this far to comfort him. Would not offer to sleep in his bed despite the drawbacks. Would not be softly stroking his hair the way Eddie keeps doing, touching his face so gently, rubbing his back in such a calm and hypnotic pattern. ]

Thank you.

[ It feels so small, so insufficient, in the face of Eddie's loyalty, his dedication and goodness. But he feels as if all his words are spent, and there are none left in him anymore. So he says the rest of his thanks nonverbally, shutting his eyes and just letting himself meet Eddie's small touches halfway, sleepy and a touch shy but obviously starved for any kind of physical affection. He settles himself in, against Eddie's chest, presses his forehead against Eddie's collarbones and lets out a long, satisfying sigh.

Eddie is here, and that means he isn't alone, and being un-alone means he is safe. It may not be logical, but it is how Cisco feels, and it is what allows him to relax enough to start nodding off again, without even realizing it at first. He blinks slower and slower; his hand, which had started tracing little loops and circles into Eddie's side, begins to stall now and then, fingers going lax. ]

'm 'na sleep.

[ He manages to mumble at least a few of the sounds associated with the thought "I'm gonna sleep", not realizing how abundantly obvious it must be to Eddie that he is dropping off. And almost as soon as he has actually said it, Cisco is out like a light, resting dreamlessly, the care gone from his face, leaving him looking peaceful, and younger than when he is awake. ]